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tomtenadia · 3 years

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Remember Us - part 2

Double feature this week. Here we go with part 2. Rowan takes another step on the path of recovering his life.

Also, we get to meet the kids <3

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When Aelin got home that night after her shift at the hospital, she was tired and not just from the long hours spent in OR. She was tired in her soul. Aelin had managed to keep her thoughts at bay while operating, but as soon as she was out they came back. It had been hard to fight the urge to go and see him again. He wanted space. That was clear so she just went home instead.

Once she crossed the threshold, laughter welcomed her. Her kids sounded happy.

She shed her coat and removed her shoes and followed the happy sounds.

Walking into the kitchen she found her mother cooking and Thomas helping her setting the table and little Freyja banging her plastic cutlery on her high chair. She was a shy girl but would become alive and loud when she was hungry. Just like her mum.

“Mama!” Shouted her daughter as she spotted her.

“Mum,” Thomas echoed his sister and ran to her, hugging Aelin at her knees “hi my darling, how are you?” She kneeled at his height and ruffled his blonde hair.

“Helping grandma cook.”

“Food.” Shouted Freyja who got agitated trying to get the attention of her mother. Aelin went to her daughter and lifted the wee girl in her arms “hi my love,” and she snuggled her head against her mother’s chest.

“Hi mum,” said Aelin to Evalin. The woman stirred something in the pan and turned to her daughter “welcome back, darling.” She said and her gaze turned worried at her daughter’s tired expression.

Aelin shook her head, knowing what her mother was about to say “later,” she added. She did not want to talk about Rowan in front of the kids.

“Come on Tom, sit at the table. Dinner is ready.” On his grandma’s orders the boy climbed on his chair and started eating his meal.

Aelin joined them a moment later, all changed in house clothes and sat at her daughter’s side.

Thomas was three and had just started learning how to use a fork properly. They would cut the food for him and he would try to use the utensil. Rowan had been teaching him. A pang of sadness hit her and pushed back the tears, now it was not the time. She would feed Freyja who was only eighteen months old.

“Did you help grandma cook?”

The boy nodded while taking a bite from his fork and gave her a big smile. His green eyes lighting up with joy. Eyes just like his father’s.

“Aelin, let me feed Freyja. You have your dinner. You haven’t touched it yet.”

Aelin shook her head “I am fine. It can wait.”

Truth was… she felt nauseous and that feeling had nothing to do with being pregnant. It was fear. Terror of losing Rowan. Terror that he would never recover his memories and her kids would be left without a father and her without her soulmate. She almost lost him once. She would never forget the day she got the call from the hospital. Those horrible moments were forever etched in her memory.

Later on that night, once the kids were in bed Evalin joined her daughter on the sofa and brought her a chamomile tea.

“The kids are asleep. What’s troubling you?”

Aelin sighed and her hand went to her stomach “Rowan woke up.”

“Today?”

She nodded in confirmation and leaned her head on her mother’s shoulder “I had just left the OR when I got a page from his doctor. I went to his room and he was awake,” a loud sob broke from her lips “he does not remember me or the kids.”

Evalin pulled her daughter closer and hugged her knowing the pain she had been feeling for the past month “Yrene had told you it might happen.”

Aelin nodded slightly “I didn’t think it could hurt that much. He had no idea who I was. He doesn’t remember our kids.” Her sobs turned into proper crying “I am so scared, mum. So, so scared.”

“I know, darling.” Evalin kissed her daughter’s head “you will have to be strong a bit longer. Does the doctor think he will regain his memory?”

Aelin gave her a small nod “but it might take time and what if he realises that he doesn’t want us in his life anymore?”

“Rowan loves you and the kids madly. The road ahead might be bumpy but he will come back.” A ragged breath escaped from Aelin. She hoped her mother was right, because if she was not she doubted she would survive loosing him a second time.

Rowan woke up the next morning with an horrendous headache. He had a fitful sleep and his thoughts had been stuck all night on her. Aelin. His wife. At her side two small shadows representing their kids. In his mind he had this picture of him holding someone, the smell of lemon and verbena strong around him. But he was sure it was more a feeling than an actual memory. He had woken up all of a sudden and hadn’t been able to fall asleep properly since. His body recognised the other one.

A nurse brought breakfast and of one thing he was sure. He hated hospital food. Which led to another series of questions. What did he eat for breakfast? Was he a good cook? What was his favourite food?

Reluctantly he finished the food on his tray and decided to kill the boredom by watching tv. According to the news it was January and the meteorologist were warning all the citizens of Terrasen of a snowstorm warning.

He was so bored watching the news that he felt glad when Aelin knocked on the doorframe “Mind if I come in?”

He shook his head “is tv always this boring?”

Aelin chuckled and for a second she saw a glimpse of him. He always hated tv. The only reason they had one in the house was because she had pestered him about it “yeah. You find reading more interesting.”

He switched off the television and faced her “I am…” he sighed “yesterday… I was overwhelmed. It was… it still is too much.”

“I know,”said Aelin trying to suppress the instinct to touch him. Not until he was okay with it.

“Tell me something about me, about my life. Us… anything.” He started, eager to know more. He needed it “do I like breakfast?”

Aelin laughed “you do, and you are a great cook. On Saturdays you always make us pancakes and let Thomas help you flip them.” She smiled at the image. Thomas on his knees on a chair beside his dad.

“You are a healthy eater so you tend to scoff enormous quantities of fruit and veggies while complaining about my crazy dietary habits.”

She was dying to show him pictures of the kids but decided against it. One step at a time. Let him become familiar with the idea of being married first.

“You are a lawyer. A kickass one at that.” His green eyes were trained on her “you and Lorcan opened your own practice. After graduation you two got a job in a fancy company but eventually got tired of dealing with rich bastards and opened a firm that deals mostly with family law but also offers legal support to us common human beings.” She had been so proud of him. The big job had left him miserable and with very little time to live. He had been stressed and after two years he had realised that the huge salary was not worth it. Lorcan had followed him and together they had started their new adventure. They had started small snd simple, but slowly as they took in more cases they had to start hiring more people and the firm had gotten bigger and successful.

“You love hiking, nature in general and winter. We are both in love with theatre and on our first date you took me to a play.”

Rowan looked at her and that tug in his chest came back for a visit.

“We have been married for seven years and you proposed at my best friend’s wedding. We were dancing and you asked me what if we were the next ones to do that? Then you went on one knee and asked me to marry you.”

He kept listening, adding some more pieces of info to what he had gathered so far. And the more Aelin spoke the more that connection he had felt the day before grew stronger.

“What type of doctor are you?”

“I am the chief of paediatric neurosurgery and I work two floors above this.”

Rowan took a deep breath and asked a question that had been burning in him since she has appeared “do you have any photos of us, of the kids?”

Aelin felt like crying and extracted her mobile phone and scrolled through her huge quantity of photos “This is Thomas. He is three.”

Rowan looked at the boy and saw a blond mop of hair just as golden as his mother’s and two striking green eyes just like his. In the photo the boy was laughing while he held him in his arms.

Aelin swiped and the image of a little girl appeared and he gasped. There was no doubt that she was his daughter. Her hair was silver as his and even her eyes were the exact copy.

“She is so much like you.” He noticed the smile appearing on Aelin’s face. While she talked about their life her face had lit up and in front of him he had the most stunning woman he had ever seen. Probably. He wasn’t sure but Aelin took his breath away.

“Are we happy? As a family?”

Aelin nodded without even thinking about it. They were, she had no doubts about it “Yes. We wanted a family, kids. It was our choice.”

Rowan nodded and wanted to believe her, needed to believe the passion and the love in her voice.

“I need time.” He said quietly, averting his gaze from hers for just a brief moment “This is a lot that I need to process. I will need time but I want to hear more.”

Aelin sobbed and grabbed her backpack and extracted another mobile phone “this is yours. It survived the crash because you used a military grade protecting cover. I just charged it. The password is 0305.” She gave him the mobile “it has photos, texts. Everything is still there, maybe it will help.”

Aelin looked at her watch and stood “I have to go, I have a surgery in two hours.”

Rowan nodded.

“You can text me if you want. My contact is under Fireheart.”

He looked at the phone and then at her “will you come back?”

Aelin took a step toward him and kissed his silver hair as she did the previous day and then nodded.

She waved at him and disappeared through the door.

He moved his attention to the phone and tried to figure out how to switch it on. Once he did it asked him a pin code and he entered the digits she had told him.

Once the phone was unlocked he was welcomed by a picture of him, Aelin and the kids on a beach. He had Freyja on his shoulders and was laughing as she patted his head. Aelin was holding Thomas potato sack style and the boy was grinning. With his fingers he traced her face and then went looking for the photo album. Before opening he hesitated. His life, his memories were there and he was scared.

There were picture of his wife. Plenty of them and she always had an amazing smile. Of one thing he was sure:Aelin took his breath away. Photos of their kids and he spotted one of what he suspected was a newborn Freyja. He held the little bundle in his arms while Thomas was at his side staring at his sister. He saw happiness, he saw joy, but most of all he saw love. Deep love that bound the four of them. Aelin had not lied. They seemed happy. He found photos of what he assumed were friends but he could not tell who they were, he hadn’t covered that part yet. Accepting the idea of a wife and kids was hard enough. He was not ready yet to add more people. The mere idea made him feel dizzy.

He was getting tired again even if it was only morning, but he pushed through and found the app with the text messages and went to look at the ones from Aelin and he read the last one she sent him go and win your case and then tonight I will show you how proud I am of my sexy lawyer.

He scrolled back through the thread and read random texts between them until he went back a few months and saw a text with a picture attached.

You are away for work and I miss you. I went for my first proper check-up and I am proud to share with you the picture of the new member of our family. The image was greyish and grainy but the message was clear: Aelin was pregnant again.

He placed the phone on his lap and closed his eyes calming the sense of panic overwhelm him.

And with his eyes closed he tried to remember.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #rowan x aelin #aelin galathynius #rowaelinkids #angst

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nocapesdahling · 3 years

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As the World Falls Down - Chapter 2

Helmut Zemo x Gender Neutral Reader

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: In which we hear a little from Helmut Zemo, the city is flying, and you find a baby. Not necessarily in that order.

Rating: Mature (17+)

Chapter Warnings/Tags: Slow Burn; Here there be angst; Accidental Child acquisition; Mentioned child neglect by others

A/N: I made myself sad while writing this chapter, knowing that certain things mentioned will never happen. Here begins the forewarned angst. Maybe once I finish this story, I’ll write a fluffy AU.

Chapter 2: Beneath a Fallen Sky (Age of Ultron) - Part 1

Word Count: 2.1k

Colonel Helmut Zemo repositioned his earpiece. He was not a man prone to fidgeting and never had been, especially on the job, but he had counted his squad after they had gotten clear of the city and they were one short.

You were missing.

His family was safe, his squad was safe, but you were not. While he kept his expression neutral, inside was a different story. You had to be here somewhere. You just had to be. He would not accept any other outcome. Once they arrived at their base outside the city, he searched room after room and asked person after person and could not find you. You were not in the Mission Control Room or in your workshop fiddling with your gadgets. You did not seem to be anywhere, which meant that he had to consider the idea of you still being in the city.

“Q, come in Q. Where are you? Branko is in need of you. He broke his new infrared glasses and Ana tore her body armor. Don’t ask me how she did it, darling. We thought it was indestructible, but you know Ana. She took that as a challenge.” He let a hint of his desperation show in his voice. “Q, please come in.”

All Zemo heard was static before a voice, your voice, answered and he breathed out in relief. “Hey, Boss.” you started haltingly. You sounded tired and out of breath. “Well, I’m still in the city.” Here, you paused and Helmut’s hand clenched into a fist. “We’re in the air, Helmut... I don’t know if I’m going to make it. You’ll have to give Carl his birthday gift from me. I think he’ll like it.”

His smile was filled with clenched teeth and looked more like a grimace. “Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

__________________

You held back a sob at the pain you could hear in his voice.

You had been meant to rendezvous with the rest of your squad at the checkpoint, but had stopped as you passed an orphanage. You thought you had heard a baby crying, but that couldn’t be right. The orphanage looked to be and should be empty. You strained your ears, knowing you couldn’t leave a baby or a child there to die. There it was again, a baby’s cry. You knew your squad was long gone, but you reassured yourself with the thought that you could easily catch up with them after you saved the baby.

You searched through the rooms on the lower floor before finding one with cribs. No baby was in sight. You paused, hearing fighting and chaos outside. Knowing that you had to move quickly, you hoped for another cry. Just as you were about to dig out your infrared glasses from your pack, there it was again. There was a cry coming from behind some hospital style curtains. You pushed them aside and found what looked like a newborn baby or close to it, abandoned before their life could even start.

You didn’t have much experience with kids, but hoped your time as a babysitter would help somewhat. You had been the babysitter for the family with twins that lived in the apartment complex a few blocks over. They had been cute kids, a boy and a girl, but they weren’t babies. You had been on the job when their apartment was bombed and heard the news afterwards. Even with your connections, you had no luck in finding out what happened to them. You assumed they died alongside their parents and mourned them accordingly. You were never able to bring yourself to watch The Dick Van Dyke Show anymore. It brought back too many memories.

You picked the baby up and cradled her to your chest as she blinked her eyes up at you. Well then, maybe not as newborn as you had supposed. Her eyes had already settled on a color that was close to your own. It was a bit uncanny. You smiled at her, tickling heir stomach as you checked her diaper. You crinkled your nose at the smell. “I see that’s why you’re crying, little one. Let me fix that for you.”

You laid the baby down to change her when her eyes scrunched up and she let out an almighty wail. “Oh my, little one. What strong lungs you have. What about a song? How does that sound, hmm?”

The baby continued to cry and squirm, and you knew this needed to be done quickly as the sounds of fighting had escalated outside and you didn’t want the robots to be alerted to your presence.

You began to sing, “We have been waiting for you. Now you are here. More perfect than I imagined. Our house is now a home. No matter where you go. Sunlight shines on you.” You sang the lullaby again as the baby stopped crying and blinked sleepily.

“There. All done. I’m glad you liked it, though I don’t know if I’m much of a singer. My mother used to sing it to me. You should hear my friend sing. He has such a lovely deep voice and my godson loves it when he sings ‘Baa, Baa, Black Sheep’. I’m sure they’ll both be excited to meet you.”

You smiled down at her and searched the room, finding a baby carrier hidden behind some blankets and formula in the fridge in the next room over. You lifted the baby and put her in the carrier, strapping it to your chest and chatting idly all the while. You noted that she must be around 4 to 5 months old as she supported her own head just fine. You fed her the formula, mopping up her chin, and prepared yourself to go outside. You positioned yourself by the window, gun in hand and infrared glasses in place. There didn’t seem to be any robots in the vicinity at the moment, which meant that it was time to leave and catch up with your squad. You checked the baby one last time and were glad to see that she was still asleep.

You were ready. You stepped outside the orphanage and started to jog in the same direction you were going earlier, doing your best not to jostle the baby. Maybe, you could get through this and get both you and your little charge to safety. Maybe, you would see Helmut again. Then, the street behind you began to splinter and crumble and the ground gave a great lurch. The city had begun to rise from the ground.

__________________

You debated what to do and came up with some semblance of a plan that had at least a 65% success rate. That was not in the least bit promising, but it was better than the 0% chance you had if you stayed here. You needed to get you and your new passenger off the city somehow, and this was the only plan you had thought of so it would have to do.

You had ducked down in an alley that you recognized as not too far from one of your favorite cafes when your phone began to ring. Quickly, you picked it up and answered it with a brief glance at the caller ID. It was Helmut. __________________

“... Even now, you joke, my Q. Even now.”

“Well, Helmut, you know me. Always look on the bright side of life, even when the city is flying and you’re carrying an orphaned baby.”

“A baby, Q?” His tone was disbelieving and you could picture what he would have said if he were here in front of you. “Only you, Q, could get yourself into this mess. For someone so intelligent, you can be kind to the point of stupidity. I admire it as I admire you, but you must not let your compassion come before your safety.”

“Yes, Helmut. A baby. I think I’ll call her Alena. Maybe give her Heike as a middle name. What do you think? Oh, and you’ll be the godparents of course?”

You could hear Helmut let out a heavy breath and the slight hitch in his voice when he answered. “We’d be honored, Q. Heike will be thrilled and Carl will love having a new playmate. They’ll be like brother and sister I’m certain, eating Turkish Delights even when I’ve specifically told them not to.”

You laughed a bit wetly. “That’ll be nice. If we can get out of the city. We have something to look forward to. Cavities galore.”

He laughed and when he spoke his voice was softer than normal. “You’ve always had a soft heart, darling Q. My friend, I told you that your compassion might get you killed one day.” There it was. You knew he wouldn’t be able to resist commenting on what he sometimes thought of as a weakness of yours. You also knew that he wouldn’t have you any other way. He sounded composed over the line, but you knew him well enough to know that he was suppressing everything and trying to hold it back for you to keep your focus on your current situation.

On the other side of the phone, Zemo was glad that he was alone so no one could see their leader fighting to keep his emotions contained. Now was not the time to be showing weakness in front of his squad. They needed him controlled and composed.

You were the only member of his squad that he could be soft with anyway.

“I guess you were right, Boss. I guess you were right. But I’m going to do my best to make sure that today’s not that day.” You paused, holding in a sob. If you weren’t careful and if your plan didn’t succeed, then today would be that day.

Over the course of the conversation, you had been walking as fast as you could, without jostling Alena too much, in the direction of your apartment that was luckily in the center of the city. You dodged more robots, and had the brief thought that whoever had made these things had to be compensating for something.

Why else would they have made so many?

You continued, mustering your nerve as you finally came in sight of your apartment. “I love you, Helmut. You know that, right?”

“I love you too, my Q.” He responded without hesitation.

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Helmut. The absolute best. Give my love to Carl and Heike.”

You had reached your apartment as the robots all began to fly towards the bridge side of the city, leaving the way clear for you. “Goodbye, Helmut Zemo. Use that exploding pen at least once for me, won’t you?”

With that, you ended the call and turned off your earpiece. You wanted to spare him what could be your final moments and selfishly did not want to hear a goodbye from him. It might be cruel of you to not give him the closure you now had, but a goodbye from him felt too final. It meant you would never see him or the little smiles he gave you, when he didn’t think it would be professional to laugh at your little asides during mission briefings, again.

Just the thought of never seeing Helmut smile or hearing him laugh again made your tears fall, which you quickly wiped away before they could hit Alena. You brushed your fingers through her baby fine hair and checked on her. “Still asleep, little one? It’s been a hard day for us and it’s about to get harder, but that’s okay because I have a plan.” Your eyes filled with determination as you walked towards your apartment’s makeshift workshop. You had just the project in mind for this.

__________________

You were unaware that in your squad’s base, Zemo was staring at his phone in horrified disbelief. You had hung up on him, and he was unable to help you from here. He was a powerful man, and this feeling of powerlessness both stunned and devastated him.

He could not save you.

Zemo threw the phone, smashing it against the wall, and screamed your name. Not Q, but your full name, the name he hadn’t called you in years. He received only silence in return. He trashed the room until his hands were bloody and as he fell to the ground, he finally allowed his anguish to break free and sobbed. He had not cried like this in years. The destruction of the room and his tears weren’t enough.

Nothing would ever be enough again.

He did the only thing he could do as he recalled your last words. “I will, my Q. I promise.”

Tag List: @rumblelibrary

A/N: I couldn’t help myself with the reference to the Maximoffs. The Sokovian lullaby is the translated version of the one Wanda sings in WandaVision. Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list for this series.

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luckyblackcloverrr · 3 years

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The Black Bulls and their bullshit in the modern time: jobs I guess – Part. 1

Here is what my brain came up with when I imagined the life of the Black Bulls or something in the present time. I did this instead of focusing during online classes, and 2 more parts are coming soon to cover all the members I guess. I didn't intend for them to turn out like headcannons but that happened :D

Yami Sukehiro

lifeguard

he probably signed up because he thought he was gonna get good money from just sitting on his lifeguard chair and sipping Tequila

his supervisor doesn't like that he's always drinking during work, but he's too scared to approach Yami about it

girls ogle at his body 24/7 but he's too dense to notice any of it

fell off his chair twice on his first day

gets approached by clueless kids who are lost and can't find their parents

helps the children find their parents, but they scurry away in fear that Yami would do something to them or their kids

soon he becomes a playground for children

5 of them simultaneously pull his hair and climb his body

at first he didn't mind, but now he's extremely careful

because one, he got kicked where the sun don't shine accidentally an energetic 6-year-old

and two, because he accidentally kicked a toddler into the pool while his vision was covered by a bunch of 4-year-olds

he couldn't care less about what people think, but he likes the praise and approval he gets from saving a few toddlers from drowning in deep water

Nacht Faust

opened a coffee shop at the corner of the street

is seldom there because he would rather do other things than spend his whole day watching some of them mess up their job

other than the coffee shop, no one knows what Nacht's job is

Finral and Gauche came up with the theory that Nacht works as a stripper

always pays the workers on time, because he thinks it's what they deserve from keeping the café alive

decorated the whole shop by himself

at first it looked like an emo kid's room

Finral hated it so much he worked his ass off to convince Nacht that it does NOT look good

now it looks better, like an aesthetic bar with lots of plants

continuously emphasises to the Bulls to keep the place clean

walks in one day to find coffee and cake all over the floor

gave them ^_^ this look and the place was clean in 10 minutes

once he slipped and fell face first when the floor was still wet from Grey mopping the floor

that moment birthed the loudest evil laugh that anyone has ever heard from Gauche

got up casually and walked away like nothing happened

recovery +100

after that, he never visits the shop in day time in case of embarrassment

honestly, he likes the coffee that Finral brews, but he'll never tell a single soul

Finral Roulacase

works at the coffee shop pt. 1

became the supervisor of the coffee shop by process of elimination

he does the job well even though he hates the responsibility part

no one really listens to him though

scratch that, no one EVER listens to him

the only person in the whole store who makes decent coffee

spent 2 months learning how to make a leaf with latte art

and now he's trying to master making a Pororo because once a child burst into tears when he didn't know how to.

whenever he sees a lady entering the store, he can't help but flirt with them

but he gets roasted by Gauche, who gets him back to work by rubbing Finral's fat crush on Finesse who works at an antique shop a few blocks away into his face

whenever Luck stops by, Finral gives him lessons on how to make a cappuccino

it never works out, and it ends with a huge mess that both of them help Grey clean because they feel bad

Grey

works at the coffee shop pt. 2

most of her work consists of cleaning the shop up, like wiping down the tables or sweeping the floors

also occasionally helps Finral make coffee and plates the dessert that Charmy sends to the café

absolutely REFUSES to serve customers

broke a whole table once because she was shy

no one knows how she did it

Finral once encouraged her to serve a cup of coffee and a plate of red velvet cake

everything went out the window, including the window itself

when the shop is empty, she lays herself on one of the tables near the window like seaweed to absorb sunlight

also she's the person who waters all the plants in the café

because no one else cares enough to do it

Nacht is secretly thankful for her for keeping his potted plants alive

she hopes that one day she can work at the counter and interact with the customers instead of shying away behind Gauche

Gauche Adlai

works at the coffee shop pt. 3

takes the orders of the customers at the counter and occasionally serves their food

tells off rude customers and will not hesitate to kick them out

he once beat the shit out of a customer outside for touching Grey inappropriately and no one dared to stop him

that day, Finral praised him, and let him clock out earlier to see Marie

has a framed picture of Marie left at the counter

when people ask who she is, he tells them that she owns the place

did not want this job, he was dragged into it

sucked at taking people's orders at first because he was insulting people left to right

Nacht wrote down sentences on a piece of paper for Gauche to memorise

it took him 2 weeks to get the hang of it

stares at his polaroid photo of Marie when there is no queue

when Sister Theresa visits with Marie, he becomes the most diligent worker in the shop

even Finral is surprised

good at working with numbers, mastered the cashier machine immediately

sometimes adds a few extra dollars into a rude customer's bill out of spite

passive aggressively forces customers to leave a good tip

once stole a potted plant from the shop to gift to Marie

Parts - 1 | 2 | 3

#black clover #the black bulls #black clover headcanons #yami sukehiro #nacht faust #finral roulacase #black clover grey #gauche adlai #obviously i did NOT think this through #should have kept this in my thoughts smh

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cornacopicimagines · 4 years

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best of friends pt.2 │t.h

pairing: singledad!mob!tom holland x singlemom!reader

words: 5.7k

warnings: SMUT, swearing, major violence, depictions of violence and blood, rough sex, oral (male receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, dom!tom & creampie.

summary: Everything was perfect. The two-and-a-half years since they first met have been nothing but love and respect. Until, y/n comes home one night, her husband gone for the time being. It all somehow crumbles in front of her, she can't help but question it. Though this thought is nothing to what he feels in that very moment. It's pure fear and terror, a pent-up storm of worry. Their comfort zone is nothing longer alive, it was buried and left to rot.

a/n: so. it must be said, i went through three different plots before i settled on this one. that is why this goddamn fic has taken me so long to write. This is probably the last mob!tom holland fic i'll write because bitch has a lot of other AUs that i would honestly prefer to write. enjoy!

part 1

masterlist

━━★✼☆｡

y/n waited for a moment. It wasn't long, but it was enough she had to check the clock on her wrist. 1:37am. Although she heard the snoring of Lottie, sound asleep in her bed, y/n knew otherwise. She knew that as soon as her feet hit the carpeted floor of her daughter's bedroom, the girl would shoot straight up and whine for y/n to come back. She loved Lottie with all of her heart, like all of her kids, however sometimes the precious little angels got on her nerves. Just last Tuesday is a prime example as y/n desperately fiddling with the buttons of Tom's shirt, wanting nothing more to take every inch of him while his whole operation continued below them. Just as she had popped the last latch, James called out for his father from across the house, most likely because one of the boys got hurt again from the play fighting they insisted they do. Sadly, y/n redid her husband's buttons and let him leave her widely aroused and dissatisfied.

As she watched Lottie take in her small breaths, y/n recounted the moments. She still remembers her wedding, clear as day. It was in their garden, with the trees dressed in beautiful pink silk and the flowers somehow in full bloom. No one was around, it's was secluded and perfect. It was just them, Theo and James stood side by side, their matching suits made her heart swell. Their perfectly rosy cheeks lit up as they saw y/n make her way down the grassy aisle. Though she never saw it, Tom admits that it was Theo who smacked him on the arm to turn around. To come face to face with his bride, a blushing bride that was 7 months pregnant. It was a rush of a events that y/n never quite saw occuring so early into her life. Yet, the day she told Tom they were going to be parents, he asked her to marry him. Of course, y/n organised a typical wedding after she had given birth but at that very second, every bad thing she had to live through suddenly became a single speck of sand on a vast beach. A prologue to her wonderful life ahead of her.

The door swung open slightly, though the light from outside Lottie's room was off, y/n could instantly tell who was stepping over countless dolls and plastic cars. Tom knelt at the side of his daughter's bed, just below his wife as she softly stroked Lottie's forehead. "You need some rest Sweetness," he told her quietly, watching over Lottie's snoring figure.

"I can't" y/n stifled through a yawn. Though she greatly needed to run to her bed and pass out, she refused to leave Lottie unless she knew her daughter was absolutely deep in sleep. Tom sighed, letting his forehead hit the soft linen of the bed cover.

"You need sleep, I can't look after the brady bunch by myself," Tom joked. His hand came to draw soft circles on y/n's thigh. It was nothing if not soothing to her. He could directly make out her face in the darkness, but Tom knew his wife was smiling, a low grin painted upon her fatigued face. "I'll take this shift."

y/n reached out for his face, finding it in seconds. Her thumb now matched the pattern on his cheek that Tom was drawing on her thigh. "We made a deal," it was his speciality, but he never wanted it to get this bad. "You would help Theo with his Valentine's Day gift if I could get this one to sleep."

y/n possessed many traits that Tom adored. She was empathetic, a woman of incredible wit and intelligence, had the stamina of a bull but her stubbornness seemed to be her crowing glory. Tom knew his wife as well as he knew how to count to ten. She wasn't leaving until absolute confirmation was handed to her. "Sweetness, I would prefer if you came to bed with me," he tried, the approach was simple and usually it worked.

"As much as I would adore that, I'm not going anywhere with you mister," y/n teased. Her attention focusing back on Lottie. Perhaps it was the way her eyelids seemed to betray her, closing every few seconds or if it was simply the way the mattress felt beneath her legs. Eventually though, the mixture of all of those and her husband's head laying flat on her thighs, she began to slowly creep off the bed. The pads of her feet pressed against the floor in such delicacy, y/n doubted that she even touching it. She reached out for Tom, grasping slightly at his bare bicep as she lifted herself up.

Tom caught on to his wife's movements and made sure that the path was completely clear of any of Lottie's toys. Calmly, the pair of them tip-toed out. Every move halted by their daughter's movements but eventually, the door closed and y/n was free from the little montress's grip. y/n wishes that she was more awake, more alert because even in her half sleep dazed she could make out the tight white singlet that clung to Tom's body. She reached out for him, it was the weakest of touchs. Yet, her hand fell on his shoulder and running up to the base of his neck. It wasn't sexual in any form, instead they stood in the dim light in complete silence. Watching each other feel the affected of forced insomnia.

"How am I going to get up this morning," y/n giggled as she accepted the sudden embrace from Tom. Her head finding it's way into the same shoulder she tenderly caressed seconds ago. Tom's fingers coiled around her forearm gently as the began to quietly walk to their bedroom. "Hopefully Meg will be around at that time," she sighed as the soft breeze of their room hit her face. Meg was their nanny, a woman who has been employed by Tom since James was a baby. She was a sweet old thing, a cliché of the lovely old lady in fairtales.

"She will, sadly I won't," Tom told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as they both hid themselves under the sating covers. y/n wanted to continue the conversation, she knew that Tom wouldn't be back at home until tomorrow night and for the first time, she would be in charge of everyone but she couldn't. As soon as her head hit the lavender scented pillow, she was out like a light. Tom just chuckled in return, pulling her into a soft embrace.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n wasn't an idiotic woman. She has been with Tom for two and a half years; married to him for two years, she immediately knew when something didn't feel right. As her fingers gripped the steering wheel, she peered in her rear-view mirror. It was something Tom's bodyguards drive around in. The vehicle was large and bulky, looking like it a take down a building with minimum amount of speed. It was painted in the midnight black, even the widows seemed to be darkened. Like before, y/n recognised the model of the car to be a sister of the cars she would frequently have to ride in if she accompanied Tom anywhere, he thought posed even the slightest amount of danger. She knew that with every corner she took, the car would mimic her turns. y/n caught onto it in seconds, watching through Lottie's car seat and Theo's mop of hair. It didn't help that when she called Tom's head guard, he told her that he had followed her orders. To let her pick up her children to avoid the never-ending shock from the ensemble of 6'5 muscular men accompanying her wherever she went.

"Do you want us to do anything about it ma'am?" he asked through the car's speaker. y/n pondered for a few seconds. While her gut was screaming at her that this was something completely out of the ordinary, if there was any ordinary being married to a Mob boss. Her mind knew that if she did say something to him now it was no doubt find its way to Tom. He would instantly assume the worst and cancel any important deal in front of him to race home. The guard's voice pulled her out of her concentration.

"Get the house under lockdown," she ordered, for the first time she felt truly in control but as all things it was slipping. "Do not tell my husband."

"Ma'am, it is imperative that Mr. Holland know of this," the guard protested. y/n had been going through quite a rough day. She was tired, overworked and constantly around wailing children. She refused to be around another. Her jaw clenched as she pulled into their street, the car still hot on her tail.

"I don't care, Tom will not know of this," y/n snapped, peering up for a final time but to her initial surprise that car had vanished. She had no clue where the fucker had gone. "It's probably nothing," she spoke quietly. The sentence was more reassurance for herself than from him, yet he had heard her, accepted her terms and hung up.

As she pulled the car into the impressively large garage, she lets her bare forehead hit top of the steering wheel. She closed her eyes for a moment, breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Mum," Theo called out from the backseat, "are you alright?" The boy's question was laced with genuine concern. It released whatever anxiety riddled grip had got a hold of y/n. She gazed up, smiling as she let all her negative thoughts leave her before turning to her three children.

"I am just really tired honey," she replied as she exited the car and proceeded to undo Lottie's buckled. "Not to worry, I think it is Boy's Movie Night tonight!" Both boys cheered in unison. The afternoon went on as usual. Theo and James spent the entire time with their faces glued to the screen in front of them. Squealing every time the supposed bad guys landed flat on his ass, jumping at every occasion that they could. Even if they lived in a mansion, y/n was positive that everyone in this house could hear their playful laughter.

y/n sat next to Lottie; her curly brunette hair clipped back into two adorable pigtails. Lottie was a carbon copy of Tom. Even next to her half-brother James, Lottie seemed to possess ever physical trait of y/n's husband. The smooth somehow flawless skin, the bouncy chestnut curls that y/n just knows will be her daughter's statement piece when she grows up and finally the pair of chocolate eyes that gets her father weak every time, she babbles up at him. She wondered how all of her children would look like when they get old enough to make their own decisions. While James doesn't have Tom's colouring like Lottie does, he has this glimmer of mischievousness in his eyes. Something y/n has loves about her boys, they all share this odd ball of high-energy. Theo looks exactly like y/n, her colouring and her features. Theo's look alikeness to his mother is something y/n feels is divine intervention. To show that, this is her son. Her baby boy and no one else's unless she says so.

"Ma'am" Meg's heavy Irish accent perks up. She's standing at the windows, peering through the curtains slightly. "I think you should see this," she advises before stepping away from the scene and running to grab Lottie from her highchair. y/n hesitantly waltzes over, she presents a cool face to her children, but she can feel her stomach crawling into her throat as she gets closer. y/n pulls the fabric back slightly, she prays that is it now in the early hours of the night and the light is off. It's the same car, it's now parked across the road from her house. Just outside of their camera’s visibility, the vehicle is camouflaged almost to perfection, she can still spot it. Its headlights are off and the car makes not a single sound. At first, y/n faithfully believes she is now seeing things, that her brain is so unfathomably tired it has resorted to petty tricks. That is until one of the car doors open quickly. She waits for a moment as does this figure in the car before a pair of fit hit the ground. Though it makes no clamour, it startles her. y/n doesn’t wait to meet his eyes as his head ducks under the car roof to fully meet the air. She turns around to meet Meg’s eyes, the women wear matching looks.

“Take the children into the spare room, go now,” y/n speaks softly as not to alarm her sons. Meg nods quickly, instantly holstering Lottie on her hips and shooing the boys away from the glowing TV.

She pauses until she hears the door close. It’s deafening. She turns her attention back to the scene, it’s worse than before. There’s at least 7 of them huddled around this car, pulling unknown bags from the seats. As the mystery bags hit the ground, the unknown men begin opening it. It’s filled to the brim with metal, the holsters of guns peeking through with the aid of the dim light of the streetlight. y/n refused to observe anymore, silently she alerts the guards in the house. She doesn’t even process the next second, it’s like nothing is working anymore. y/n knows what the sound is, she knows what is happening, she knows that in a matter of seconds the men have begun firing at her front landing. Killing anyone standing outside, she can feel the bullets entering their bodies.

It’s with that, y/n goes from a fast pace to sprinting. She rushes down the long halls to meet with her children. It’s feels like an eternity that she is opening doors, calling out for any of them. All the while, gunshots ring out like a bell, constant and terrible. Her phone vibrates,it send her nerves over the edge. y/n stops for a second to stare at it, Tom’s name lights up the screen. Instead of answering, her fingers lose all their function. Her phone drops from her hand and hits the floor. She wants to pick it up but her feet work against her and begin to simply pace herself away from her phone as it continues to hum against the tiles.

Finally, she reaches the room. Meg holds Lottie close to her chest, rocking the toddler back and forth as Lottie cries into Meg’s shirt. Theo and James are standing in the middle of the room. Both look like they are on their verge of tears and to be completely truthfully, so was she. Closing the door, y/n immediately wraps her arms around her sons. She feels the wet tears staining her shoulders. She feels their chests rise and fall drop as best they can.

“You boys are so brave,” she sooths, her palms rubbing circles atop their heads. Slowly, she peers up. While the gunfire continues to ring out, y/n stares at the people in the room with her. Not a single bulb is turned on, the area is pitch black, but she can still see how this if affecting the boys. How Meg clutches onto Lottie’s wailing body. “It’ll be over soon.”

“You promise,” James chokes out, he wipes his face of her blouse. y/n pressed a tender kiss to his hair. She lets a single tear escape her eyes.

“I swear handsome,” y/n tells him, but she’s not convinced by the sound of her own voice. The boys pull away from her, one of her hands reaches for their salty cheeks. “Everything will be alright, Mumma swears.”

She doesn’t want to; she wants to scream. She wants to burn the entire house to the ground. She wants to leave with her children and never come back. y/n has never felt this in her entire life. This is not only pure terror for the lives of her children but it’s uncontrollable rage. She’s being held together by a tearing material of a rubber band. Her limbs are coiled, feeling as though she has rusted in the rain. Her mind doesn’t stop, it runs as if it has never felt this wrathful freedom in its life. A million different thoughts threaten to take power, as if they should decide her next move. She doesn’t let them of course, y/n’s had practice at this, and she will not crack now.

“Meg, give me Charlotte now,” y/n’s voice is hoarse and breaking with ever vowel that drops from her lips. The old lady rushes over to y/n and hands her Lottie. The toddler instinctively wraps her arms around y/n, refusing to let go. Another 20 minutes go by, it's torture. The air seems to wash around y/n as she clings onto her children for dear life. Quietly, she pans over to Meg. The old woman looks as if she has turned from the humble baker's wife down the street to death herself. Their eyes lock, passing silent messages to each other.

I'm sorry, y/n pleads. She thinks if she spoke it aloud, it would travel barely above a whisper.

It's okay, sweetheart, Meg responded. Though the woman only truly meant the first part, y/n wanted to believe that she would have used the nickname to calm her nerves. Somehow it did.

The moment lasted for only seconds. A fleeting feeling of safety was ruined by the doorknob rattling furiously. At the speed of sound, y/n had handed Lottie over to Meg and told her to hide in the bathroom with the children. y/n heard everything, the door lock behind Meg and the muffled yelling behind the door in front of y/n. She scrambled to her feet, driving her to the wide bedside table. She threw open the doors until she landed on the one thing she never believes she's use. A small handgun. y/n didn't quite have time to question her morals at this very second in time. y/n wrapped her fingers around the handle just as the door swung open. Tears spilled as she pointed the gun aimlessly.

"Thank god," his familiar voice rang out. y/n sunk to her knees, the gun falling right from her fingertips. Tom rushed to her side; he didn't know what to say to her. He knew exactly what she was feeling, he knew whatever attempt he made at explaining the horrid situation would break his poor wife even further.

y/n studied his features in the dim light of the room as he got closer to her. She had never seen him in such a state. His hair flopping all over his face, hiding whatever panic was clearly evident over his features. More specifically, y/n watched as it became clearer. A large splatter of blood across his right cheek. She fell right into his arms, finally allowing herself to stain his shirt with her burst of weeps.

━━★✼☆｡

y/n's body was on fire. The fire was nothing but pure pain. As if bugs were nesting right under skin, desperate for a gasp of air. Even the clock ticked loudly, ever noise of the hand pressed her brain against her skull. Every joint rigid in its own specific way, damaged and tight.

"Sweetness, talk to me," Tom soothed, using the towel to clean the final fragments of blood off his cheek. Her eyes squinted at him, waiting for him to do anything other than be his normal gentle self. y/n slid herself off the foot of their bed and walked to the closed door. Flashing images of the other room crossing her mind.

"I need to check on the kids," she huffed. While y/n knew Meg was laying wide away on the floor of Theo's room as all three children slept contently, she wanted to be away from him at a moment like this. She needed to not see his face. Alas, Tom's hand gripped her wrist tightly. The touch sizzled her skin, the tension elevated for a split second.

y/n whipped around to face him; Tom felt his patience slipping from him. "y/n, be an adult," he hissed.

Tom knew he shouldn't be talking to her like this, but he was at his wit's end. A candle burning to the final wax. He mentally fucked himself over when he got that stupid fucking call. Sir, your wife has informed us of an unidentified vehicle following her, it engraved itself into his mind. Tom remembers sitting at the desk, wondering if she was witnessing the same group, he had fucked over a few months ago. Deciding it could wait, Tom told them to keep his updated throughout the night. As if whatever god was up there decided to play a tortuous comedy routine with Tom, it did begin to progress. First, the car pulling up hours before his arrival. Then the major security breach and finally as they began shooting at his house, ready to slaughter anyone they found inside. Especially his family.

She watched his intently. Waiting for a further response and yet, nothing. Her anger was bubbling over. "I am an adult," she seethed at him, her fingers unwrapping themselves from the doorknob. "I make sure that my children are safe, I make it my life's mission to ensure that I am not the direct cause of those certain dangers I wish to keep them so far away from!"

She had ripped her hand from his grasp, this wasn't something she was backing away from. It was something she could fight and to which she intended to do until the very end.

The little monologue broke Tom's heart. How could she believe that he would do such a horrific thing? How could she blame him for the events that unfolded tonight? He wondered if she truly knew this was never his intention. That he never wanted his family to come under direct attack all because he made one dangerous decision.

“You don’t talk to me like that y/n,” He grumbled. The air seemed to thicken with every word, cause more distance between the spouses. It was never like this they fought like a normal couple but never with this much venom. “I don’t deserve such criticism, especially from you.”

“Why?” she pondered, she moved closer to him. Inching closer with every second. “Is it because you question my authority? Or maybe is it because I am some silly little schoolteacher who got trouble with the wrong kind of people," she moved closer with every word of the sentence, pushing her dangerously closer. It’s a risk she must take if she wants to feel any sort of release.

“Stop being so theatrical y/n, you endured something horrible, but that is what you signed up for when you married me,” the room climbed in temperature. Tom had half a mind to strip himself just to get closer to peace, but with y/n so close to his chest, he preferred to work on her. Tom can’t pinpoint what made his mind switch in directions. Maybe it was the ever-growing heat, or perhaps it was the indescribable feeling of almost losing your wife and mother of your children. Either way, Tom thoughts were growing darker. The need to bruise y/n’s skin seemed to be the only thing he could really think about. “You wanted this,” he grunted, closing in on her. “Sweetness, you agreed to this lifestyle as soon as you sunk your sweet cunt onto me.”

The vulgarity of his words caught her off guard. Her breath stopped halfway when her back almost slammed into the wall. She wasn’t giving in so easily, even if the heat from her body had swiftly travelled to the valley between her thighs. y/n turned her head away from him in any desperation to not look at him. Unfortunately, Tom caught her actions as if he knew her every move. His fingers pressed against her chin to bring her eyes back to him. Tom was worried for an instant that she would truly be too furious with him to play into his game. Luckily, her eyes betrayed her. The big doe eyes of her stared up at him, pleaded to be fucked like an animal. Slammed into until all of her rage had slipped from her conscious.

“Screw yourself Tom,” she coughed out. She was playing along, y/n knew exactly where this was heading. A tender kiss was placed upon her lips, while the action itself was soft, nothing about the kiss genuinely was. It was the ultimate puzzle piece for him.

"You want to speak to me like a bitch," Tom chuckled, "you'll get fucked like a bitch." He kicked the back of her knees harshly, causing her to meet with the floor. "On your knees and hands behind your back." She wanted to protest, she wanted to act out the little brat but like most things, her arms instinctively pulled themselves behind her. "Now, I sincerely hope I don't have to punish you further sweetness," Tom soothed as he swiftly undid the buckle of his jeans, discarding the items of clothing across the room. His throbbing cock hit the base of his stomach with a soft slap. y/n bit her lip in instinct, it had been a while, and did she wholly miss this glorious scene in front of her.

y/n leaned forward and dragged her tongue from the base of him until her lips met with the beads of pre-cum drenching him. Slowly but surely, she wrapped her lips around him. Letting him enjoy the wet cavern of her mouth for a short time. He threw his head back in unison with a beautifully quiet moan. Her eyes never left him, as she bobbed her head gradually. If she was on her knees unable to reach out and touch him, she would at least make it fun for her. y/n only quickened her pace if their line of focus connected. As soon as Tom stared directly into her eyes, she would start her movements but if he turned away to enjoy the moment, everything would stop. It went like this before Tom had quite enough of it all. Without uttering a single word, Tom wrangle his hands into her soft hair and thrusted right up into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat roughly. She gagged loudly, making an awful sound as she attempted to regain her position. He pulled away from her, only to slam right back into her mouth. Unlike her plan beforehand, as he face fucked her, his pace begins to speed up.

y/n was now struggling to hold back her ragged gags as small tears slid out of her eyes. "Pretty girl, all worked out from my cock in your mouth huh?" Tom teased as he relished in the sounds of her cacophony of broken breaths. Just as quickly as he began, he pulled away from her complete. He dropped out of her mouth with a small pop and a trail of saliva that landed on the tops of her breasts. "Get up," to which she happily obliged. As soon as y/n had regained her footing, Tom's hands had completely destroyed her pants. The loose skirt was now in two pieces at her feet, along with her favourite pair of panties. Unfortunately, she didn't even get a second to scold him before he spun her around and slammed her chest against the wall. The pain excited her, it coursed through her torso and down into her legs, causing them to spasm slightly.

Tom looked at her, in the soft moonlight she was glowing. Ass facing him, tits pressed up against the wall. Complete ready for him. Tom gave her a small kiss on her shoulder, this time it truly was meant to be tender but in typical Tom fashion. As soon as his lips left her skin, Tom plunged right up into her. His hand covering her surprised squeal. God did he miss this. Filling her tight pussy right up to the brim. Even after everything they had been through, she still fit him like a glove. Hugged him so perfectly, Tom was worried he was shot his load right into her at this very moment. Sadly, he pushed the thought away and began rocking into her; his hand still covered over her mouth.

y/n could feel every inch of his like this. She could feel just how hard he was ramming into her cunt. Her nails gripped onto the wall in front of her as she whimpered into the palm of his hand. With every snap of his hips, her worries seemed to really melt away. All the tension built up in her body being oiled as he parted her legs to reach a nook in her that she thought impossible. “Tommy, f—fuck, oh my god,” it was incoherent garble. Nonsense talk as her eyes rolled back into her head for a few seconds. His head found the valley of her neck, peppering light kisses a major difference to the rough pace he had adopted.

“What is it sweetness,” Tom gasped right into her ear. The hot air tickling her skin. His other hand gripped callously at her hip, bruising the delicate skin under his fingers. “Come on tell me,” Tom was struggling to keep himself in check. The pure sound of skin against skin as he fucked her ass filled the air, pushing him closer to ecstasy. His hand pulled away from her lips, an immediately low moan tumbled from her lips. y/n waited for her body to response to anything, everything thrown out the window every time his dick hit her perfect spot inside of her.

“Har—harder,” she strained through strings of vulgarities and chants of his name. Tom smirked at her, she caught it before he pulled away from her. Tom started to slow his movements, observing how she swallowed him whole every time he thrusted into her tight hole.

“You really want it harder sweetness?” Tom asked, he was just as desperate for a release as she was. y/n nodded her head furiously, words seeming to fail her at this instance. “Turn around,” he ordered, she swivelled around to face him. Her once neat hair now a mess of pleasure tugged strains. Her lids fluttering shut and her cheeks flushed. She looked like a Greek statue. Tom bent and lifted her over his shoulders, earning a tiny giggle from his huffing wife above him. He frantically sprinted over to their bed and promptly chucked her on it. The force knocking a bit of wind out of her.

In a flash of actions, her face had been pressing into the mattress and her ass high up in air. Tom gave it a light smack before lining up and pounding right into her. Both of them let out a soft line of curses. It had never been this intense in their entire relationship.

The room was silent. Nothing could be heard outside but inside was a different idea. Tom brought her hips down roughly onto him, matching his tattered speed. y/n’s breaths were muffled by the cover of the blanks, her hands desperate for anything to latch onto for support as he fucks her relentlessly. It a beautiful mixture of sounds. Nothing like the soft breaths and gasps on a normal night. While those still as amazing as now, this was pure unfiltered animalistic need. No feelings, just a fantastic way to blow off incredible tense steam. Tom usually adored staring at her as her face scrunched up in pleasure but something about how every time his cock rammed up into her, everything moved with his thrusts. It was memorising, as if a painting had been brought to life. y/n had lost track of time during this, so focused on the way he was able to stretch her so wide that she had completely forgot how long she had been lying here. She didn’t dwell on it for too long before the divine familiar feeling presented itself to her, dwelling at the pit of her stomach.

“Go faster, I’m going t—to come,” she pleaded, lifting her head up for only a moment before diving right back into her muffled screams. Tom growled at this, picking up his already forceful speed. While he tried, his thrusts became sloppy and jagged.

“Come with me sweetness,” he whispered to her, his fingered rubbing cathartic circles on her sensitive clit. The sensation on her bud rupturing another last piece of sanity in her body.

With a final thrust, both y/n and Tom came. A relief as both almost shouted out in absolute ecstasy, their juices mixing together in a beautiful sense of the terms. y/n’s toes curled as she felt it all, every little piece of tension, anger and lust all combine and explode inside of her. Tom wasn’t even the slightest but worried as he had been before this had begun. His sweaty forehead lay against her spine, as his wife attempted to catch her breath. Slowly he pulled out of her, his cum leaking out of her. A sight he would love to have burned into his vision for the rest of his life.

“Feel better?” Tom asked her as he threw himself next to her. y/n turned to face him and for the first time that night an honest grin appeared on her face. A grin given to her by whatever relief she had received moments before.

“Much,” she replied.

━━★✼☆｡

951 notes · View notes

re-diesirae · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Chris

Chris watched his sister's back as she disappeared down the corridor. Something about her overall appearance was bothering him, but he pushed the thoughts away. Claire always hated it when he hovered over her, and, considering that he hadn't seen the woman in almost three months, he didn't want to spoil their time together by annoying his sister.

"Huh, she's going to be mopping about this later," Saya sighed, "she will be feeling guilty after all this."

The comment caught Chris's attention, and the soldier turned to the Asian doctor with a quizzical look.

"Guilty? Why?" Chris asked.

"Well, it isn't like she gets a lot of friendly visitors often. I can tell she was overjoyed to have you here, but with all this mess, unfortunately, with this mess, Claire has barely been a proper host, and that will haunt her."

Chris felt a pinch of guilt at the woman's words. He knew Claire was a strong girl. Claire had always been independent, but she valued family like nothing else. She probably missed him as much as he missed her; maybe he should consider dropping by more often.

"You seem to know her well," Leon said casually, looking around the place.

"We are old friends and colleagues," Saya said, picking a notepad and scribbling something, "we have grown close after sharing so many night shifts side by side. I am not sure which of us spends more time in this building. Maybe we should start a contest on that."

"Night Shifts?" Chris asked, "She has night shifts?"

"Well, her promotion carried a lot of extra work," Saya explained, "Sometimes the amount is ridiculous, especially when the other chiefs are calling and asking for help. She's too kind to say no. Sometimes she has so much work that she just gave up going home at night. I do the same, so eventually, we ended up making each other company."

"So, she hasn't been going home?"Jill asked.

"She does, but rarely. Deep down inside, I believe she prefers it here because that way, she won't feel lonely. You know she lives alone, and sometimes when something bothers her or she wakes up from a nightmare, it is nice to have someone to chat with and have some hot chocolate."

"Nightmares?" Barry asked.

"She still has them?" Moira asked.

Chris looked at the girl, and he saw Barry put his arm protectively around his daughter.

"Yes, it has become a regular thing lately. I heard yours have become less frequent," Saya said, tilting her head.

Moira nodded and looked at her dad.

"Natalia and I used to have them for a while, too," Moira said, and Barry rubbed her back comfortingly, "but they have almost stopped completely."

"Well, that's good," Saya nodded, "unfortunately, our Claire wasn't so lucky."

"I didn't know she still had them. I mean, we all lived a nightmare on that fucking island. She should have told me. Talking it out might help."

Saya smiled and sighed.

"You know she wouldn't say a word," Saya shrugged.

"Well, why not? We went through that hell together."

Chris was the one with the answer to that.

"Because she always keeps quiet," Chris sighed, "It's been like this since she was a kid. Claire never says anything when she is having trouble with something."

"She doesn't want to worry us, probably," Leon said.

He had spoken with her a few times on the phone. She usually asked how things were doing, and when he returned the question, she merely said she was bored or lots of work. On the phone, it was hard to tell when the girl was hiding something, and the younger Redfield was proficient in that area.

Their chat was suddenly interrupted by the sound of the automatic doors opening. They had expected it to be Claire, but instead, a tall blonde man wearing a black security uniform came in, walking impatiently.

"Ok, Redfield, why did you need me? It better be for a good reason, because I've got to reboot the system, and that is not doing itself."

The blonde stopped dryly and stared at the group in confusion.

"Ok, now this is weird..." he said, turning to the Asian doctor.

"Wallace," Saya said, surprised, "What are you doing here?"

"What do you mean? Red called me up here. Isn't Redfield here?"

"Well, that depends on which Redfield, kid," Barry snorted.

"What?"

The man was visibly confused, but it was Moira who cleared it up for him. She pointed at Chris lazily.

"What my dad means," Moira said, pointing at Chris, "he is Chris Redfield. I mean the Chris Redfield, you know. Claire's beloved brother?"

"Oh! Now, that makes sense. I'm Grant Wallace, Head of cybersecurity. he said, shaking Chris's hand ceremoniously, "It's an honor to meet you, at last, brother. Forgive my lack of courtesy. I am in a rush since I need to fix the crap those hackers did to my precious system. Let me be a little more specific, then, is Claire here?"

"No, she isn't here," Saya said, crossing her arms, "She left some minutes ago to find you."

"She... what? Why?"

"Why?" Saya said, indignantly, "You called her, and now you ask why?"

"What? I never called her. She was the one who asked me to come up here."

"This isn't time for jokes," Saya chastised him. "We all heard it. You said that there was something in the Command Center you wanted her to see."

"I never said..." Wallace said, "I was in command, and she told me she was having issues with the security system in the lab. She even told me to drag my lazy ass up here, or she would make me pay."

Everyone fell silent, and it was then that something clicked inside Chris's head. If the man had not called Claire, and he was there. Who was waiting for Claire at the Command Center?

"Where is the Command Center?" he said with a grave tone, "Save the talk, just answer…"

"Basement, but…"

Saya's eyes went wide, and Grant fell into realization.

"It is a trap. Someone lured Claire there," Chris said furiously.

Before anyone could react, Chris was already running out of the room, followed closely by Leon and Jill.

Everyone fell silent. It was then that a switch clicked in Chris's head.

"Where is the Command Center?" he said with a grave tone, "Save the talk, just answer…"

"Basement, but there's no one at the Command Center," Wallace said, "and you say I called her down? There's something wrong there."

Wallace's eyes widened, and he looked at Chris in shock.

"Someone lured Claire there," Chris said furiously. "It is a trap!"

Before anyone could react or say anything, Chris was making his way through the corridor, heading for the stairs. The others exchanged glances, and with no more to say, Jill and Leon ran after him.

"Claire, you better be in one piece when I get there," Chris thought out loud as he ran down the stairs, followed by Leon and Jill.

Leon was the first one to follow him as soon as they had found out that Claire was potentially in danger. They were good friends; that fact was not a secret. Both had gone through a lot during the first outbreak in Racoon City, and those kinds of events usually created everlasting bonds between people. If there was anyone as worried as Chris was, it had to be him.

The second set of footsteps were Jill's. The woman seemed worried.

"We need to hurry. I want to be wrong, but if I am not, Claire will need our help," Chris told his companions.

Claire wasn't a damsel in distress. If she had to kick some asses, she would do it without trouble. But if she got tricked down there, she would not have been able to foresee the ambush that awaited her, and the element of surprise would leave her in a disadvantageous position.

They reached the Command Center in a short time. The office door was ajar, and there was no sign of Claire anywhere. That made Chris have a bad feeling.

The trio stepped into the room cautiously. There were evident signs of a struggle: papers scattered on the ground, furniture turned over, and few bloodstains on the floor. There had been a fight, and Chris prayed with all his heart that the red liquid on the ground wasn't Claire's blood. After inspecting the place, they came to the sad conclusion that it was empty.

Chris cursed himself for being late as he watched helplessly around the empty room.

"Shit, where are you, Claire?" Chris growled.

"Chris..."

The soldier turned to Leon. The man had crouched, and he was holding something silver in his hand. Chris recognized it at once.

"That's Claire's necklace."

"It seems she got ambushed," Jill said, after looking at the scene, "No deaths, as there are no corpses, but judging by the looks, someone got beaten into a pulp."

As long as that someone wasn't his sister, it was fine. Chris could live with it.

"Three attackers," Jill said, "Male and trained. I think Claire knocked out two, but she missed the third one. They can't be too far."

"We gotta move if we want to find her, then."

Jill nodded. The group was ready to step out when Jill stopped them and brought a finger against her lips, telling them to be silent. Someone was outside the room. The trio exchanged looks and took cover to listen.

"That bitch didn't go down without a fight, huh?" an unknown male voice said, "she's feisty. I guess that is why they are interested."

"She's tougher than the other ones," a second voice said, "what do you suppose they do with them?"

"That's none of your business. Our task is to collect the subjects. The rest is up to them," the first man said. "Now, move. You don't want to be in the city when they drop those presents in the city."

"Now that's going to be a show. What do you think those guys will send this time?"

"Some of their ugly pets, probably."

Chris looked at Leon and Jill. Those last words made the hair on the back of Chris's neck stand up. They were planning an attack on the city, and if it were as bad as Chris imagined, Hughesville would soon turn into a second Lanshiang Catastrophe.

"Let's see how those stupid TerraSavers handle that," the first voice said with amusement.

The trio held their breath as the voices receded. Chris had to restrain himself from attacking the men with his fists. Those men were his best chance at finding Claire. He would make them pay, but until his sister was safe and sound, he would let them go.

"Are they planning to launch an attack here?" Jill asked, "I can't believe this."

"We should get used to this crap," Chris said with anger, "Jill, go back to Barry and the others. We need to warn the BSAA about a possible bioterrorist attack asap. We need the forces to get moving before things get out of control."

"Yes, of course," Jill nodded, "what are you going to do?"

"Isn't that obvious?" Chris said, fiercely, "I am hunting down those assholes and getting my sister back."

"Chris, don't get me wrong, but going after them all on your own..." Jill said, and Chris growled.

"If I wait, I'll lose them. I can't let that happen."

"Yes, I understand that, but you can't expect me to let you go alone."

"He won't," Leon said. "I'll go with him. I'll help him get Claire back, so you can focus on evacuating the people before this becomes another tragedy."

Jill looked at them and hesitated.

"I have Leon as my backup. I will be fine. The attack will happen soon. If we want to save as many people as we can, we need to hurry. I am sure everyone in TerraSave will help us."

Jill nodded. The woman turned on her heels and ran back through the corridor, leaving the soldier and the agent behind. Chris knew that Jill was reluctant to leave. She loved Claire, too, and the idea of the girl getting kidnapped by a bunch of terrorists didn't make her happier than it made Chris. However, duty was a duty; the woman turned on her heels and ran back through the corridor, leaving the soldier and the agent behind.

Chris turned to Leon and found the agent fidgeting with his mobile phone.

"I contacted Hunnigan and asked her to help us track down Claire's kidnappers."

"Great, that will come in handy," Chris nodded, "Did you bring any weapons?"

Leon gave him a smile of irony and showed him the holster under his jacket.

"After all these years," Leon said, "They never leave my side."

"Tch, it must be nice to have the government's permission to carry your toys," Chris scoffed, "Fair enough. Let's move, then."

The two men rushed out of the room, following the path that the two chatting men from earlier had taken. It wasn't long before Leon and Chris caught up with them. It was a group of six men wearing black suits and masks. One of them, as Chris noted, was carrying an unconscious Claire over his shoulders. The sight was enough to make the man's blood boil, and the soldier clenched his fists, ready to throw a few punches.

The eldest Redfield looked at Leon, sending him a tacit plan, and the man nodded. They pulled out their guns and shot, aiming at the legs. The first man fell to the ground. The group was confused for a moment, but they soon reacted to their attackers. Three of the closest men began to fire back while the remaining ones sneaked away with Claire. It was evident that their priority was getting her out of the building.

Chris cursed. He had no time to waste, and the men were right in the way. He looked at Leon, and the blonde nodded, raising three fingers, counting down. When the last finger was out, the two jumped out from their cover and began firing at the men. The encounter lasted a couple of minutes, and soon the three attackers laid dead on the floor.

Leon seized the chance to check the bodies.

"What's that?" Chris asked, seeing that Leon had pulled out something from one of the body's pockets.

"A badge. I recognize it. It's one of those small terrorist groups that have ties to Neo-Umbrella," Leon muttered, "I'll let Hunnigan know. Let's get Claire back before they escape."

"Roger to that," Chris nodded.

The two men made their way through the empty corridors until they reached the underground parking lot. Chris and Leon made an abrupt stop when a black van passed them at full speed and broke through the parking entrance.

Chris glared at it and ran to the guard's office. The guard was on the floor. The soldier checked his vitals and concluded that the man was dead. There was nothing that he could do, so he picked a set of keys and rushed to grab one of Terra Save's vehicles.

It took them nothing to catch up with the van, and Chris was glad that no traffic had tried to stop him for his reckless driving. He could picture his sister's lecture about it in his mind, but considering the circumstances, Chris thought that his recklessness was reasonable.

"There they are," Leon said, putting out his gun, "keep it steady. I'll try to stop them."

Chris watched Leon stretch out through the window and began shooting. His accuracy was on point, and Chris was grateful that the agent was pointing at the tires only. It was the safest way to stop the car without the risk of hurting Claire in the crossfire.

"Leon, watch up," Chris said.

Two men were coming through the van's windows with their guys aiming at them. The exchange of fire was unavoidable, and Chris had to maneuver the car the best he could to avoid the incoming fire.

"The bastards came prepared," Leon groaned, reloading his gun. "I guess this won't be easy."

"Has it ever been easy?"

"Right," Leon snorted. The blonde aimed his gun and shot the man on the left.

The bullet hit the man cleanly on his forehead, killing him instantly.

"Nice shot," Chris smirked.

Leon smirked at the compliment, but the light mood short-lasting.

A loud crash resounded in the street as one of the closest buildings collapsed right in front of them, blocking the way and forcing the black van to make a turn to dodge the flying debris. A strong inhuman roar echoed through the city, and Chris found that howl unpleasantly familiar.

"Shit," Chris groaned, pushing the door open, "not this guy again."

"Friend of yours?" asked Leon, doing the same.

"Old acquaintance."

The ogroman let out a savage howl, hitting the nearby buildings with his large hands. The men in the black van had stepped out with their cargo. Claire was still unconscious. They seemed to have forgotten about their human chasers and were only concerned with finding a way to escape the infamous creature. The ogroman, however, had other plans. It snatched a couple of the more unlucky men and broke their bones with its hand.

Their fate wasn't one Chris wished for anyone, not even those damned terrorists.

"Great, just what we need," he growled.

"I am guessing you know how to deal with this guy," Leon asked with a frown.

"Yeah, and I can tell you we are not ready for this fight."

"Why am I not surprised?" Leon sighed. His attention got momentarily diverted from the monster as he watched the men take Claire through an alley. "Chris..."

Chris followed the blonde's sight and frowned. They ran to the alley to chase the escaping group but got violently stopped by the Ogroman punching the street. Chris and Leon rolled in opposite directions, evading the hit and the flying rocks.

"Shit," Chris cursed, "Are you okay, Leon?"

"I've been better," Leon groaned, "Any ideas?"

"Yeah, you follow those assholes. I'll take care of this guy."

"Are you nuts?"

"Don't worry. I know how to deal with it," Chris replied, "I'll distract it. You get Claire."

Leon pondered their options and nodded. Chris wasn't a rookie. He was a veteran with even more experience than Leon in some things. If someone could deal with that thing, it was him. Leon took some of his extra ammunition and threw them to Chris.

"Take this. You'll need it."

"Really. Where were you hiding these, huh?"

"I've got my tricks. Be careful, Chris."

"You, too, and make sure Claire is safe, or I'll kill you myself."

Leon snorted. He gave Chris a wave and ran into the alley, leaving the soldier to face the ogroman.

Chris could only trust that the man would save his sister; then again, Leon had proved himself a competent fighter and probably was the person that worried most about Claire, after himself, of course.

"Time to do some clean-up."

#cleon #my fanfiction #fanfic #claire redfield #leon x claire #claire x leon #leon s kennedy #chris redfield #resident evil

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astarinthevalley · 4 years

Text

It Was Bound To Happen

Siblings get mad at each other, it happens. Siblings fight for silly reasons, it happens. Things can get out of hand, it happens.

Sebastian glanced at the clock on his computer and blinked a couple of times. Was it really 9:45 PM? It was only 4:30 PM a couple of minutes ago.

He pushed his chair away from his screen and looked around his abyss of a room, barely being able to make any piece of furniture out. He’d usually turn on the small TV by his bed for background noise and a source of light--one not too intense, but not too dim either--since he despised getting up and traveling across his room just to flip a light switch.

Sebastian stretched his arms high over his head, listening to the clicks his wrists made as he rotated them. He turned his head and his neck released a loud, satisfying crack.

He got up and heard his feet land on what remained of his lunch: empty, crumbled bags of chips. When did he eat those again? 11 AM? He should be hungry, his stomach should feel like it’s being ripped to shreds like it always does when he forgets to eat, but he felt fine. ‘I should eat something anyways.’ He thought to himself. His mom, Maru, and Demetrius probably already had dinner together, and had stored the leftovers in the microwave for him as they always do whenever he couldn’t--or didn’t--join them.

Sebastian began maneuvering his way through the dark room, shuffling his feet across the floor so he wouldn’t risk stepping on whatever trash he had tossed and forgotten about. He kept his eyes focused on the spot where his door stood and reached his hand out. The moment his fingers came into contact with the cold metal of the knob, he wrapped his hand around it, swung the door open, and was immediately blinded. Why were the house’s lights still on? His mom always turned them off at 9:30.

He walked up the stairs, hand on the railing, as his eyes adjusted to the sudden shift in brightness. As he ascended the stairs, he could hear his step-sister, Maru, talking aloud with the occasional giggle in between her pauses. She must be on the phone.

He reached the hallway and took a right, journeying straight to the kitchen, not interested in whatever Maru was blabbering about. Unfortunately for him, Maru also decided she wanted to spend some of her time in the kitchen. She was sitting on top of their kitchen table, wrinkling the pink cloth covering it that mom had washed today, phone pressed against her ear, and a big, stupid, punchable smile on her face.

Whoever was on the other side was taking their time talking, so Sebastian decided to ask “Where’s mom?”

Maru peeked at him and whispered a ‘Hold on’ to her friend. “They’re at the saloon, and hello to you too.” She said in a tone not nearly as enthusiastic as it was a moment ago.

His mom would always pop into his room to let him know she was heading off somewhere, why didn’t she this time? Or maybe she did and he had forgotten about it.

He brought himself to the microwave and opened it to see a bowl of pesto pasta sitting in the center. ‘Warm it up for a minute, stir, then cook again for another minute.’ His mom’s instructions rang through his head.

He shut the microwave again, set the timer up, got a fork from a drawer, then stood and watched the bowl rotate while listening to the low buzzing and the tiny pops coming from his dinner.

Sebastian always found the noise rather calming in a strange sense--that is until time had run out and his trance would be disrupted by the blaring beeps--but Maru’s rambling was impossible to block out.

“... And I got a letter from another college today--Yeah, yeah! I didn’t expect so many to be interested, I’m really overwhelmed!”

Sebastian couldn’t hold back his groan. She was bragging about her damn robot again. Normally he’d be mildly annoyed but understanding when it came to bragging about accomplishments, he was guilty of doing so himself, but to constantly hear someone praise themselves for well over a month would start to drive anyone insane. Maru had built a robot--with the help of Demetrius--that was about the size of a small dog. It was able to pick up certain objects, respond to commands, and write. She showed off it’s abilities to the whole town, and everyone, even Sebastian, was impressed with what she had created.

“... My dad said he was going to help me with future projects, but I need to be more independent.”

He expected the never-ending praise from his parents, and had prepared himself for the constant compliments Maru would receive throughout this month and the many months after. She could mop the floor and they’d shower her in affection for the whole week, it was something they were both used to. But what he wasn’t prepared for was everyone to constantly talk about Maru and her invention. Maru makes a dingy droid and you might as well have told everyone the second coming of Christ was happening in this very valley. Sure, they lived in a small town, and when anything slightly out of the ordinary popped up, it was bound to be talked about for a couple of weeks, but conversations about Maru have barely dwindled.

“... I still need to make some improvements on the little droid.”

The continuous praise at home was exhausting enough, so to hear her name in every passing conversation was a nightmare. He liked to leave his house to get away from her, to get away from his parents gushing, but now it felt like there was no escape. Even his best friends, Sam and Abigail, had mentioned both Maru and her machine during their nights at the saloon.

Three loud, obnoxious beeps finally escaped the microwave. That had to have been the longest minute of his life.

He took out the dish and stirred the contents recklessly, his fork clashing against the sides of the bowl and scraping the bottom, before placing it back in and setting the timer for another minute.

The second the dish is done, he’ll snatch it up, and rush back into the basement away from Maru. He wouldn’t care if the scalding ceramic would melt his fingers off, he couldn’t stand being in the kitchen with her for a second longer.

“... That’s the problem, I don’t know if I want to move out yet! I really love it here, and I know my parents would support me no matter what I choose, but…”

Is she capable of talking about anything besides herself? Everything has to be about her, her inventions, how her parents can’t get over her, her problems, her success, her feelings, her. Her. Her.

Sebastian hated it. When he stayed up countless nights programming with no help whatsoever, fueled by several cans of energy drinks and stress, all he’d receive were lectures. ‘Stop spending so much time on the computer’, ‘Stop playing games’, ‘Stop browsing the web’, ‘Staying in here for so long is unhealthy’, shut up. Shut up. Shut up.

Then when he was given the chance to share what he was doing, explaining how he tests and develops software with enthusiasm and bright eyes, he could see his parents’ lack of interest in their dull eyes. Their amazement and fascination was all used on whatever Maru had been doing that day, and all that was left for him was boredom and exhaustion. Even on the days he went outside to work on his motorcycle, Demetrius wouldn’t hesitate to bicker about how much noise he was making, how he was distracting Maru from her work, how he was making a mess. The man was impossible to satisfy.

“... Yeah, I’ll be able to come over tomorrow!”

Sebastian stared at the timer. There were 10 seconds left.

“... I was thinking of bringing some gadgets over--Oh! We could try…” He hated her. Perhaps that was a strong word, but it was the truth. Nothing good had ever come from Maru.

9 seconds.

“... I don’t mind what we do, I just hate being cooped up in my room all day…” He hated the bragging, he hated the never-ending praise, he hated how the moment she was born their parents shoved everything he had into the basement.

8 seconds.

“... My parents don’t mind…” He hated how she always acted so high and mighty.

7 seconds.

“... As long as I’m home before it gets dark…” He hated how Demetrius would treat him every time he was near her.

6 seconds.

“... I need a break anyways…” He hated how he was always blamed for any argument or feud that came between them.

5 seconds.

“... My wrists have been killing me…” It was never her fault. Maru can’t do anything wrong, it’s always Sebastian.

“... I swear, my projects will be the death of me...” He hated the mere sight of her.

4 seconds.

“... Oh, did I tell you about what I’m currently working on?” He hated her voice.

3 seconds.

“... I’ve been making these blueprints…” He hated her.

2 seconds.

“... For a new robot…” He hated her.

1 second.

“... And I’m hoping it’ll be able to do even more than my first--”

Without his command, his legs took him straight to Maru. He tore the phone from her hand and held it with a crushing grip.

Maru’s mouth hung open, processing what had just happened in those mere, few seconds.

“Please.” Sebastian started in a frigid hush, “Shut. Up.”

Maru blinked a couple of times and stared at him, dumbfounded.

She shook off her surprise and reached for the phone, “I was talking with somebody!”

Sebastian pulled it away and hung up on whoever she was speaking with, “Not anymore. You can call them another time.”

Sebastian turned back to the counter, ready to grab his dinner and leave. He threw her phone aside and heard it land with a gratifying ‘crack’.

Maru scrambled to pick it up, checking the screen to make sure it hadn’t been ruined, then looked back at Sebastian.

“What is your problem?!” She raised her voice, face tinting red.

Sebastian ignored her as he opened the microwave.

She placed the phone on the table and stood up, snapping her fingers to get her step-brother’s attention.

“Hey, hey! You can’t just treat me like garbage one second then pretend I don’t exist the next!”

“I said shut up.” Sebastian repeated coldly, facing away from the girl.

“No, I won’t!” Maru stepped closer, “I can deal with you acting like this most of the time, but these past few weeks you have been really, really--” She scrunched her face, struggling to come up with a word to perfectly describe his recent, foul behavior. “--Vile!” She finished, pointing a finger at him.

“Sorry I’m not kissing your ass like everyone else.” He rolled his eyes as he grabbed the hot dish. He set it on the counter and scanned the kitchen for napkins.

Maru watched him search for a minute, then the gears in her head started turning.

Her eyes widened, “It’s because of my robot, isn’t it--”

“No, that damned robot isn’t the issue,” He clutched the edge of the counter, “it’s you! That’s my problem, it’s always been you!” He growled.

A genuinely hurt expression flashed across Maru’s face before it was replaced with anger. Her hands curled into fists.

“I haven’t done anything wrong.” She muttered, her voice was shaky. “You’re… You’re just…” She hated these moments with Sebastian. She hated how often they’d come. No matter what she did, no matter what she said, the two of them always ended up arguing. She’d always lose. She’d always be given a repulsed look and grumbled cusses as he’d walk away. Sometimes her parents would intervene and defend her, but they weren’t here right now.

She can’t keep letting herself get stepped on.

“Because you’re jealous, aren’t you?” She finally said, her voice still unsteady.

Sebastian’s body stiffened.

“Because you’re in your basement all day, staring at your--your stupid computer, pretending everyone doesn’t exist…” She breathed in, “And while you were sitting around, being angry, I was out there doing something. I’m actually getting somewhere! I actually have the chance for a successful future, I have potential, and you--you--y…”

The confidence she was finally building up had been shattered into millions of pieces as she watched Sebastian reach over to the knife block. When his fingers curled around and held the grip of the nearest knife, she felt her blood drain from her face.

The world had stopped. Maru had stopped. She couldn’t move. She only stood and waited, hoping Sebastian would let go, tell her he’s kidding, or for him to go outside to smoke, anything. Anything.

Sebastian began to turn his head in her direction, the hatred in his eyes burned greater than the flames in the depths of Hell. The more he kept turning his head, the louder her heart banged in her ears. Her horrifying hypnotic heartbeat was soon overtaken by a single thought booming in her head: He’s going to kill me.

Maru made a dash to the hallway, hearing her step-brother’s footsteps right on her tail as he started shouting a slew of curses and threats. She had never heard Sebastian shout in such a terrible tone in her entire life. Even during their absolute worst fights, his raised voice would sound pissed at most. But here? Now? He was screaming. There were moments where his voice would strain as he swung the knife she barely avoided, threatening to hack her head off. Whatever restraint he had built up over the years, whatever had kept him sane throughout the entirety of their relationship had been thrown out. All that remained was a man who looked like her step-brother screaming bloody murder, fueled by pure hatred, and wanting nothing more than to see her bleed.

Maru saw the door to her parents room on the right and instantly ran inside. She locked the door and took lungfuls of air, hot tears running down her face as she almost choked on her own spit.

The knob began to wriggle faster and faster until Sebastian resorted to banging and kicking. He’d slam his body against it, causing the door to budge and Maru’s life to flash before her eyes.

“OPEN THIS DOOR!” She heard him scream, “OPEN THIS DOOR, OPEN THIS DOOR! I’LL KILL YOU. I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU.”

He kept shouting those words and other horrible threats at her. She needed to get out.

She whipped her head around, hoping to find any possible escape route, but a pit began to form in her stomach as she realized she had trapped herself in her parents’ room. This wasn’t like her bedroom, there wasn’t another door that led outside, and the only window in here wasn’t big enough for her to crawl through.

The banging on the door grew louder, so did Sebastian’s yelling.

“YOU BITCH.” Sebastian threw himself against the door again.

She couldn’t think straight. She couldn’t think straight. Block the door. She needs to block the door.

She saw two wooden chairs beside her parents’ bed that sat in the center of the room and grabbed one. She wedged the back of the chair underneath the doorknob, praying it’d be enough to hold back Sebastian.

She suddenly saw the blade of the knife jab through the crack of the door and watched it dragg up and down before being pulled back in. Whatever Sebastian was attempting to do didn’t go as planned; he resorted to charging against the door again, shouting, and now sporadically stabbing the door itself.

Maru would watch in horror as the blade made its way through the other side of the door with every other stab. She couldn’t tear her eyes off the door. She wanted to throw up.

“I HATE YOU.”

As Sebastian’s screaming and thrashing grew more and more voluminous, Maru backed herself against the wall, sat down, and brought her knees to her chest. She covered her ears, tears clouding her vision, as horrid thoughts and questions filled her mind. She remembered watching so many documentaries about serial killers with Penny, fascinated with how sick people could be. She never imagined her own step-brother would be the end of her.

“DO YOU HEAR ME?”

She wondered what it’d be like to have a knife plunged into her chest. Would it feel like a quick sting? Would it burn? Would her adrenaline prevent her from feeling anything at all, and she’d be stuck staring into her step-brother’s wild eyes? Would he drag out her demise? Or would he end her life as fast as possible?

“I HATE YOU.”

Maybe she deserves this. Maybe she should have treated him better. Maybe she could’ve tried harder. She should’ve kept her stupid mouth shut. She shouldn’t have said anything. None of this would’ve happened. Sebastian feels this way because of her. She deserves this. She deserves this. She’s going to die. She’s going to die.

She suddenly heard the front door open through Sebastian’s banging. Footsteps and muffled voices, which soon turned into shouting, grew near.

“Sebastian? Sebastian--oh my God, what are DOING!?” She heard her mom shout. Sebastian was rather too consumed with wanting to kill Maru, or no longer cared about the consequences, as his screaming and thrashing became more severe.

Demetrius’ shouting started clashing with Sebastian’s, and another, quieter male voice could be heard as well.

Sebastian’s ruckus came to an abrupt stop. He must’ve been pulled away from the door. She could hear his yelling, his legs kicking about, and--somehow--his knife swinging wildly.

Someone knocked on the door. “Maru, honey, are you in there?” Maru heard her mother ask through Sebastian and Demetrius’ shouting.

“It’s safe to come out,” Her mom said, “Dr. Harvey called the police. You’re going to be okay.”

Maru slowly got up and pulled the chair away. She cautiously unlocked the door and listened to the yelling grow louder as she opened the door more and more.

Maru was hoping seeing her mother would cause a wave of relief and security to wash over her, but Robin wore a false smile in a poor attempt to mask her fear, making Maru feel sicker.

Robin pulled her in for a tight hug and placed her hand on her head, whispering to Maru that they’re going to be okay, everything will be fine, it’s all over now.

Maru forced her head to the right and saw an enraged Demetrius and a terrified Harvey restraining both of Sebastian’s arms.

Sebastian had finally stopped shouting. He was sitting on the floor, panting through gritted teeth, tears running down his face, and staring at her with those horrible, loathsome eyes that wished to see nothing more than Maru’s demise.

#stardew valley #stardew valley sebastian #stardew valley maru #stardew valley fanfic #sdv fanfic #sdv sebastian #sdv maru #some swearing!#fun sibling fight :)#wrote this cause why not ya know #if tumblr format is not your style the lil #description/summary above has a link to the Ao3 if that's nicer!!

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sailorshadzter · 5 years

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Can you write a story about how Sansa has Jons baby without him knowing? Dany keeps him in kings landing and he comes backs to winterfell and sees Sansa’s son and knows its his

okay so i loved this & im sorry you sent this AGES AGO. but i finally got to it and i honestly want to do a part 2. so thanks! i hope it was worth the wait.

send me prompts

The day her son was born, she was woke from a dream of spring.

Laughter had floated along the warm breeze, the sun shining overhead as children played in the godswood. They wrestled in the melting snow, wolves and boys, while the little girls stood on the side lines, cheering the boys on. Somehow, in the back of her mind, she knows those children belong to her. There's a boy with dark curls and Stark colored eyes, he's the oldest of the bunch. Then there's the boy with Tully touched auburn locks, the second born that comes close behind the oldest. The oldest of the girls is small and dark, she's like the grandmother she's named for and the aunt she idolizes. Then there's the other two, a boy and girl with eyes the color of spring violets and silvery hair that catches the sun.

The first wave of labor pain is what startles her awake and she's unable to stop the cry of surprise, of pain, from leaving her lips. Brienne is in the room at once, the door thrown open without any sense of formality- it's been left behind at the sound of her lady's pained cries. At the sight of Sansa sitting up, doubled over in pain, Brienne knows what is happening and she's out the door, shouting for the maid that was making her way down the hall at that very moment. "The queen's time has come!"

Fear grips her but she swallows it down, focusing instead on the prospect of holding her child. She knows he will be her Prince of Winterfell- they will call him the Young White Wolf, a boy named for the uncle he'll never know. A child born of the wolves, the stories will say, born in the first year of his mother's rule. For one single moment, she can only wonder about the other children she has dreamed of... But then another wave of pain takes her over and the door to her room bangs open as maids filter in and suddenly, there is little else for her to think about besides the pain of labor.

Except for him.

She thinks of Jon even as she's bearing down, birthing the child he helped create. Sansa wishes he were here now, she wishes he even knew there was a child at all. She thinks of Jon as she feels the child slip from her body into the hands of the maester, she thinks of him as the babe gives his first angry howl at being thrown so rudely into a bright, new world he doesn't know. She thinks of Jon as they hand her the baby for the first time, where even now at two minutes old, the whole room knows the truth of his birth. He is a Stark born child, even in infancy he is his father's copy. "Robb," Sansa cries softly as she cradles her son to her chest, naming him as she had always intended, though she wonders if Ned would be more appropriate, given his looks. But the room melts at the name and beside her bed, Brienne drops to her knees, swearing to protect the child as she's always protected Sansa.

She thinks of Jon as she peers into her son's perfect little face, wishing with all of her heart that he was there.

If only, if only...

[ x x x ]

"I have news from the North."

It is Tyrion that speaks and Jon looks up from where he sits in his solar, at first annoyed by the interruption but it fades as his words settle on his brain. He's been here, trapped in King's Landing as he once was trapped at Dragonstone, all these months since Daenerys had conquered it with brute strength. On the back of Drogon, she had soared through the skies, belching flames and smoke until there was little left of the capital but rubble. Those who had survived the massacre now lived in fear of the tyrant queen. "News?" Jon questions, absently rubbing the back of his head.

He misses home, he misses Winterfell. He misses her.

Jon thinks back to the last time he saw her, the morning of his departure from Winterfell. She had been so beautiful that day, bathed in the morning sunlight, wrapped in furs. He had longed to kiss her that morning, to remind her of where his heart so truly belonged... But they had been stumbled upon and instead, he had embraced her as any good brother might have embraced his dearly loved sister. When she had slipped from his arms, he felt empty.

"There is a rumor that your sister has given birth to a son."

The goblet of ale Jon had been reaching for suddenly clangs to the floor and Jon curses, dropping to the floor so he might mop up the amber liquid, though it's done more to hide his face than clean the mess. "That is quite the rumor," Jon finally says when he's recovered from his shock enough to control his features. He rises back up, settling himself back into his chair and setting the now empty goblet onto his desk. "My sister remains unmarried."

Tyrion smirks, eyebrow arching as he climbs into the chair that sits before Jon's oak desk. "They say the child is sired by wolves." The imp explains, watching Jon's face for any sign of what he knows must surely be the truth. That the child born to Sansa Stark is Jon's own child, a child born out of wedlock between two presumed half siblings. There were very few who knew the truth of Jon's parentage, after all. "The queen wishes to know if it is only a rumor or not," the peace between the North and the remaining kingdoms is thin and it is only because of Jon's sacrifice of remaining beside Daenerys that the North was given it's independence. Dorne is hot with jealousy and there had been whispers of their itch for their own. The Iron Islands would not be far behind. Daenerys had lost her loyal allies and now only ruled through fear. But, there was only one single dragon to fear, how long would it be before there were none?

"She's also agreed that it should be you who goes to confirm the rumor," Tyrion's voice draws Jon's attention back and his sharp, Stark colored eyes settle upon the Lannister. The man steeples his fingers together and sighs. "I suppose, what the queen knows or doesn't know... Won't concern her." All he wants is this peace to last; he's riddled with guilt over the last few months, the ringing of the bells still yet haunts his every dream. Tyrion knows the rumor of the Northern queen's pregnancy must be only that- a rumor. True or not, the mother of dragons would not take kindly to hearing the true heir of the Seven Kingdoms had a child with the true heir of the North, who she herself has given a crown to. What a powerful child, what a power for the already disgruntled people to stand behind instead. If one wished to topple a tyrant queen, this would probably be the way. If one wished, that was. Tyrion reaches for the jug of ale and pours himself a goblet, draining it in two quick swallows before pouring himself another.

Jon understands the deeper meaning behind the imp's words. Who better than he understands what Daenerys Targaryen is capable of? He watched her sack an entire city that had surrendered, all because she could. Fine, let it be fear, she had told him that night after the feast. Fear. He had listened to her threats against his people, his family... He knew what she would do if she felt threatened by Sansa and the North. It would take no time at all for the North to look as King's Landing had once looked. Ash would fall from the skies like snow, blanketing Winterfell. "When am I to leave?" He extends his hand out, goblet tight in his grip, a silent request for ale of his own.

Tyrion raises his gaze to meet his eyes and leans in so they may clink glasses. "Tomorrow."

[ x x x ]

Sansa hears the cry from the guard tower from where she sits in her solar, Robb tucked against her chest as she looks over a letter from Dorne. She knows it's dangerous water she treds, even just opening such letters as the Prince of Dorne wishes to fight for his nation's freedom. There are whispers everywhere of overthrowing the dragon queen and though once Sansa would have involved herself readily but now... She glances down at the baby in her arms and knows she's got a whole lot more to protect these days. Sometimes she fears doing nothing at all leaves her son in more danger.

"Your grace."

It is Lord Royce in her doorway, dipping her a bow. As always, he smiles over the baby she holds, warming her heart at the sight of it. Sansa knows now how truly loved she is by her people, for there was not one who voiced displeasure over her baby born from wedlock. If there were any susipicions on the father, they were not mentioned publicly, and she laughs when she hears how they say her son was born of the wolves. "Yes?" She asks, lowering the letter from Dorne, focusing her blue eyed gaze on the older man.

"There's a rider at the gate, a rider from King's Landing."

Sansa's heart skips a beat but she dares not feel excitement. Jon would not be here, she would never allow that. "See that they are fed and warmed, then bring them here." Lord Royce gives her a nod and then bows before he backs from the room to do as he's been bid. What Lord Royce did not say was that he had caught a glimpse of the man who rode through, a man with unmistakable raven colored curls. But he goes on his way, sending a steward down to take the man to the kitchens, so he might warm himself before the great fires and eat a bit of porridage from that morning's breakfast.

In the minutes before the knock sounds on the door, Sansa cannot help but to fawn over the baby she holds. Robb is a sweet babe, though his angry cries can easily wake the entire castle. Peering into his dark eyes, she sees his father, she sees his grandfather. Little Robb is Jon's child, there is no doubt, his Stark genes undeniable. His gummy smile is frequently seen but his displeasure is just as easily heard, though Sansa loves every moment of it.

Knock, knock.

Hearing the knock, she jumps, chills racing the length of her spine. Somehow, she already knows who stands at her door. She turns and gently sets Robb into his cradle, hard oak wood carved with wolves and the weirwood tree. "Come in," she calls, adjusting her position in her chair as the door swing opens and the man comes through. The breath catches in her throat, stolen from her lungs as Jon sinks to his knees before her desk. She didn't dare believe it could ever be him, but now that he's here... Tears spring to her eyes as she opens her mouth, his name soft upon her lips. "Jon..."

He cannot believe how beautiful she is.

It's been a long eight months since he's last seen her, last held her. Her autumn touched hair is longer than ever, pulled back in a mound of intricate braids, leaving only a few soft curls to frame her features. Those blue eyes... Eyes he would willingly drown in, eyes the color of the open sea, of the summer sky. Her gown is of gray velvet, form fitting to a figure that is softer than he remembers and he only wants to take her into his arms. "My queen," he breathes as he hits his knees, holding Longclaw in the Northern gesture of fealty. For once, those words do not feel empty, they don't feel hollow.

She rises up from the chair she's been sitting in, coming around the desk, gray skirts sweeping across the rushes. "You're here..." She murmurs as she sinks down to his level, one hand cupping his cheek to her palm, his beard prickly against her soft skin. "I don't believe this," she shakes her head, blinking fast, the tears clinging to her lashes as she sucks in a breath. "Why.."

Before she can say another word, Jon is taking her into his arms. There on the floor, he pulls her to him and holds fast. She hears his sharp intake of breath as he buries his face into the crook of her shoulder, as his arms wind around her waist. Sansa breathes him in- he smells of horses and a campfire. "I'm an envoy now," he grins when he finally pulls back and the laugh she lets out sounds like a sob. "I've missed you," he sobers, his fingertips tracing the curve of her cheek as he stares into her eyes.

"I've missed you," she whispers, tears falling down her face faster than Jon could wipe them away. "I thought I would truly never see you again." She'll never forget that day, when they had hugged goodbye on the docks of King's Landing, she set to return to the North and her crown, he to remain behind with the dragon queen. "Jon, there's something I must tell you..."

Behind them, as if on cue, Robb lets out a cry.

Jon's eyes widen at the sound and Sansa rises back to her full height, drawing him up with her. "There was a rumor that reached Tyrion," Jon breathes and Sansa shoots him an apologetic smile. "It's... True..?" Sansa doesn't respond but rather takes him by the hand and guides him behind her desk, where the cradle sits just out of sight if one isn't looking for it. Jon knows before she says it, for looking at the baby is like looking into a mirror. The child is certainly his. "Sansa!" He tears his wild gaze from the now smiling baby to look at Sansa, who is staring dreamily down at the infant, her rosy lips curved with a smile.

"I wanted to tell you... That day on the docks..." She says softly, tears once again filling her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispers, looking back up to meet his gaze. Jon shakes his head and leans in, pulling her close to kiss. He wraps her in his arms and kisses her deep, a long slow kiss that he hopes makes up for all the ones they've missed. "Would you like to hold him?" She asks when she's pulled back and Jon gives a nod. Sansa reaches into the cradle and the baby begins to smile and coo as his mother lifts him into her arms. A moment later, she extends out her arms and slips the baby into Jon's. "I named him for Robb," she says, reaching out to brush her fingers through Robb's downy black hair, already curling at the ends like Jon's does.

"Robb," Jon breathes, leaning down to gently kiss the baby's forehead, his heart overflowing when Robb takes hold of his index finger and holds on tight. "My son." He tests out the phrase and knows without a doubt he can never part from them again. He can never stay away. Suddenly, a dark thought takes root, a dark but necessary thought that must come true if he ever wants to keep this child safe. If he ever wants to keep Sansa safe.

He will do anything to keep his family safe.

#anon asks #jonsa #jonsa au #jon x sansa #my writing #i wrote this #send me prompts #writing prompts

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mynameisjaxx · 3 years

Text

Daichi x Y/N

(Stuff happens, so read if you want to.)

I'm currently a first year at Karasuno and it's almost time for spring break. Since starting at the high school, I had special circumstances at the beginning of the year. Mostly because my parents had just died and I had no other living relatives or god parents to take care of me. Due to the fact that I was 15, I was given the choice to stay at a half way home or to go out on my own. Knowing full well, I would never get adopted for being a teenager, I decided to opt out and remain living on my own. For the most part, it was okay, I would crash at a few friends houses every so often to wash my uniform in a place that had actual laundry detergent. It wasn't long until the manager at the store I worked at started letting me have the left overs that didn't sell.

I guess, he got the hint that I was shedding pounds like no tomorrow. So one night, he flipped the sign to close and asked me to step into the back room.

"Hey, kid, how's it going?" He started.

"I'm okay." I shrugged.

"Don't lie to me, now." He lit up a cigarette.

"Well, if you gotta know, I'm currently living with the snacks I you let me have and couch surfing." I narrowed my gaze.

"What happened with your folks?" I look up and through the wisps of smoke, he was looking into my eyes and waiting for an answer.

"They're dead."

Silence. It last a few minutes and then he took a pull.

"Sorry, kid."

"Yeah, it's not something I'm ready to talk about." I wipe the single tear that fell from my right eye.

Tch.

"Alright, I have an idea, but only if you feel absolutely 100% comfortable with the idea."

"Shoot."

"I have a spare room, if you want you can stay there, instead of couch surfing or staying out in the streets." He takes another pull.

"I don't know, I don't feel right about just staying there. Is there someway for me to repay you?" I look up to him determined.

"Well, you can take on some extra chores around the house and we can call it even." He shrug.

"Alright then Mr. Ukai, thank you so much!" I bow.

"Don't worry about it kid, I just don't want you to end up hurt somewhere. You've been really good working for me the whole summer, and I see you like a little sister." He puts a hand on my shoulder with a light squeeze.

"I promise that I will do my best to not be a burden." I declare.

After our chat, I spend my time minding the store until closing time. I double check the floor and restock what's low and keep the journal of the day's sales. I make sure to keep everything organized before putting together a list of the things we need to order for the next week. Keishin came out with the broom and the mop, he swept and I mopped the floor behind him. We were done rather fast and put away the cleaning supplies. Stepping through the back of the store we take out the trash to the dumpster and then walk a little to the house behind the store.

"Well, this is home." He says.

"It's very nice."

"Thanks." He closes the door behind us, we remove our shoes and I walk in barefoot, taking my socks off and feeling the cold floors.

"Hey put these on, they should fit." He hands me a pair of gray slippers that seem my size.

"Thanks." I slip them on and he shows me around the house.

"So, living room is here, to the left is my room, the right is yours. The kitchen is down the hall and the bathroom is also down the hall. The is a small backyard if you ever want to sit outside and take a break." He rubs the back of his neck.

"Wow." Amazed at how neat and warm the house felt.

"Yeah, I haven't the heart to change a few things because its the way my mom left it. I just do upkeep." he shrugs.

"Well, I will be sure not to move things too out of place on cleaning day." I make a mental note.

"I appreciate that. For tonight, I'll make dinner. What do you want to eat?" He peers into the fridge.

"How about I make dinner and you tell me what my chores are while I work?" I counter offer.

"Oh, Okay." He steps aside.

I pull out the left over rice he has in a tupper ware, the shaved steak left overs, 3 eggs and a mixed veggie tray. Julienning and then sauteing them for a little color, I add the shaved steak to mix in with the juices from the veggies, adding a pinch of onion powder and a few dashes of soy sauce, I stir until the white rice has an even browning.

"So, we would be alternating cleaning duty, you'll get bathroom and kitchen and I'll do living room and front of the house. Following week, we switch. Cooking is up to you. I'm limited in what I know how to make, but it seems like you can definitely throw down in the kitchen." He motions to me.

"Well, I had to learn while my parents were at work, I made myself dinners." I smile.

"That's very smart." He compliments.

Adding the rice into the meat and veggies and adding a splash of water to make the rice a little fluffy again, I cover it. Cracking the eggs into a bowl and scrambling them before hand.

"So, you learned all this from being home alone?" He grabs plates out of the cupboard.

"Yep, we would have left overs and I'd take them to make them into a meal for myself. I hope you like it." with a half smile as I add the eggs to the same skillet. While the eggs cook into the fried rice, I clean all the utensils I used to cook, leaving just the wooden spoon I was using to help mix everything. Almost like a 6th sense, I could feel that it was ready, so I turn off the heat and proceed to spoon out a few into each bowl.

"It smells delicious!" He takes a whiff before carefully putting the steaming hot food into his mouth and hums something that sounded like 'yum'.

"Glad you like it." I laugh a bit.

That was my first night, it was very nice. It really did feel like having an older brother, despite knowing that I was practically alone in every sense of the word. He really made me feel welcomed. We worked out a deal for when I would get to school.

So while I did some early morning shifts to help prep all the sandwiches and meat buns to be sold for the day, he would take care of the store and then I would do homework while I worked the counter and he would take his break and go over to the house and prep dinner for us later.

It's been about 2 months with the same routine and there was this man, Takeda. He comes in once a day to ask where Keishin was and if he could spare a moment, everytime, he was turned away until yesterday. Kei actually agreed to whatever that Takeda man asked him to do.

"I'll be at the school gym tomorrow, so I want you to go there straight after practice. I'm not letting you out of my sight, kid." He sighs as he goes towards the back room.

"Oh, okay, but who will mind the store?"

"I'll get my nephew to watch the store." He pulls out his phone and dials a number.

"Alright, well, I'm off to school, sandwiches are ready to be stocked, coffee is in the machine brewing for the day, and the meat buns are in the steam tray." I put on my shoes.

"Alright, hon, have a good day at school and don't forget to meet me at the gym." He shouts after me as I jog out to school.

The school day was boring and quite frankly, I was just hoping to see what was going to happen after school, but I still managed to take down good notes in class. I wonder why Takeda wanted Keishin. Guess, I'll find out later.

The day ends and I bolt out of class and head to the gym, right outside is Takeda and Keishin, talking a bit.

"Hi, y/n." Takeda bows.

"Hello, Takeda Sensei."

"Lets see what we are working with." Keishin grumbles and puts out his cigarette.

Inside were boys, shouting and running around. They were playing a 3 4 on 4 game of volleyball. There were 3 boys I recognized as my senpais since one of them gave me a tour around the school my first day and introduced me to the other 2. Sugawara was very nice and detailed with directions, Asahi was super shy and told me I was scary until we spoke a bit more and then there's Daichi. He was just, woah.

Suddenly I'm down on the ground, my chest hurt a little. I wasn't sure what just happened. I definitely got the wind knocked out of me, somehow.

"Woah n/n! Are you okay??" Keishin bends down to check on me.

"Y/N!" Daichi runs over and slides right beside me.

"We are so sorry." I hear the boys shout in unison.

I cough a bit trying to breathe. Daichi helps me sit up.

"Hey, Kiyoko, toss me my water bottle!" Daichi looks at the blue haired girl.

She nods and tosses the water bottle at him and he catches it with ease.

"Here drink some. It'll help" I nod and do as he says.

A sip and I try to breath but it sounds like a heavy wheeze. He takes my loose hairs and tucks them behind my ear.

"It's alright, take your time." He stands.

"Alright, Ennoshita, sub for me. I'm going to look after her during this set." He takes my hands into his and helps me to the bench. He sits straddling the bench and pats the space in front of him.

"Sit with your back to me." He orders.

I do and his chest is warm. I hum.

"Alright, I'm going to rub your upper arms and I want you to take deep breaths with me." He whispers into my ear.

I could feel my face turn red and my chest tighten, but I nod.

After a few breaths, I feel much better. At some point I had closed my eyes and he had stopped moving his hands on my arms and just held me.

"Hey, earth to y/n. You okay now?" He whispers, bringing me back.

"Yes, thank you, senpai." I reply.

"Please, call me Daichi." He insists.

"Well, now that you are a bit better, please go to the bathroom and check if you're bruised, if you want take Kiyoko with you. She'll be able to help with ice or if you would prefer a salve." He motions to her and she comes over.

"Okay" meek and quiet, I leave with Kiyoko to the bathroom and she comes in with me.

Unbuttoning my school uniform, I see the yellow and blue starting to form.

"What would you like for me to do? Salve and bandage or just an ice pack?" She offers, cleaning her glasses on her volleyball jacket.

"Whichever would make the bruise slow down faster." I shrug.

"I'll get the salve and bandage, wait here." She hurries out.

She returns and quietly buzzes about, tending to the bruise.

"Thank you, senpai." I mumble.

"Of course, let me know if you have any discomfort." she guides me back to the gym and I sit quietly on the bench and watch the rest of the 'set'. In between sets, Daichi comes back over to me and asks me once more if I was okay and I nod, choosing to keep talking to a minimum since my chest was still in some pain.

"So, you have yourself a coach, Takeda." I over hear Keishin shaking hands with Takeda Sensei.

"Thank you. The practice game with Nekoma are in a few weeks. Here's the details and I will need you to come by the office tomorrow so we can formally fill out your paperwork as new head coach of Karasuno's boy's volleyball" He's super excited.

"Alright boys, line up." Daichi commands.

"Thank you for coming." They say in unison.

"Boys, let me introduce you to your new coach. Coach Ukai. he's the former Coach's grandson, he also happened to play for Karasuno when he studied here." Takeda lets Keishin take center stage.

"Alright, so the rematch against Nekoma won't be for another few weeks, and I have 'til then to whip you into shape to even be close to a tied game with them. I have faith in what I witnessed today that we will beat them. Maybe not in our first game but definitely in our second." Keishin riles them up.

"Come on, clean up and then you are free to go home." Daichi claps.

The boys grumble. Just like that time passed in a flash, somehow in that time I became the co manager of the team with Kiyoko and we've become really good friends. Though I know I won't see her around much after this year, with her being a third year and all

The practice game came and the boys played their hardest, in the end, they lost making it really close to a tied game. They were absolutely devastated but definitely not discouraged. After the game, Keishin treated them to dinner. As a way to show them that even in their losses they will learn and adapt, but for now eat and work on your strength. Some of them cried and others remained stoic.

It was weeks later that Takeda slipped by the door and announced that Nekoma had invited us to join in on their training camp. Takeda and Keishin shared a glance, one I knew all too well. 'The I'm not sure we can afford it' look. An idea popped into my head, so I decided to go up to Kei and whisper it.

"Doesn't sound bad, I bet if you got the guys to help then it would definitely go a lot faster. I mean you've got the skills." He nods.

"Takeda, I'm not sure if you know, but y/n is a wiz in the kitchen, can they borrow the cafeteria on Thursday night? Y/N wants to have a bake sale for the team. Of course if the boys help out then I know they'll be in good hands." He pleads.

"What a splendid idea, I'll run it by the principal tomorrow morning and have an answer by practice. Just give me a list of what you wanted to bake and what the cost to profit is, I'm sure it will work out just fine." He looks at a determined y/n who's already scribbling away in their notebook the recipes and how much the items would cost, specially through the store as a vendor they knew they could get a bit of a discount.

On a new sheet of paper, they write down the cost to profit and hand over the menu to Takeda, who looks in awe of the menu.

"Are you sure you can make all this?" He asks.

"With help, of course. I just need to know if I have permission before I go asking the team for help." I nod confidently.

"alright then, I will pass this along." He puts it into his folder of to-do.

The following day at lunch I got the approval of cafeteria use for the thursday night which was in 3 days. Yachi who was the other new co manager created posters to put up around the school and town. The school wrote a check for the cost and I gave it to Keishin when we ordered the ingredients. The entire team agreed to help, even salty Tsukishima. It was a nice night, we took off of practice and spent the evening working hard. The boys followed my every order, I was running a tight ship that night.

By nightfall, we were all packing up the small bundt cakes in the wax paper and twine. The muffins were placed into boxes to contain them for the night and the sweeter things we baked, we left for the afternoon. The entire day Kiyoko and I were manning the cash box, and thanking students for buying and donating the change.

At the end of the day we had made back what we spent on ingredients and more than tripled our profit. We gave back the initial investment that the school spent and we took the rest to the bank. Got the coins changed into larger bills. Gave the money to Takeda who in turn, put it towards the bus to take us to the training camp and food for those two weeks. Even after that we had a little left over, which we had decided we would save for any club emergencies.

"We did it!!!" We announced.

"We're raised enough money to go to the training camp!" Yachi jumps up high like Hinata.

"Yay!" He jumps even higher.

"Rest up, we leave next Friday after school and get there by evening. We are going to be there for 2 weeks." Keishin reminds them.

Time flies and it was just a a few hours by bus to get there. It was finally here, training camp weeks with Nekoma and Fukurodani. Being the last to arrive, the Nekoma team are the ones to greet us.

Everyone is polite enough, though the tension between the captains is so awkward. It makes me want to be a turtle and hide inside my shell. Being here was incredible. The days were spent between exercise and practice games. There were many losses for the boys, but with each game they learned more about their opponents, which in turn they adapted their strategies.

The night before the last day Daichi approached me with a concerned look.

"What's wrong sen-Daichi." I tilt my head.

"Well, tomorrow there's the barbecue and I think we have enough, but I'm not sure. If there's a shortage would you mind going to the store with Kiyoko and two of the boys to help you bring things back?" He places a hand on my shoulder.

"Of course, what kind of a manager would I be if I didn't take care of my team." I laugh it off.

"Thank you for taking such good care of us, if it weren't for your idea, we probably wouldn't have been able to participate." He squeezes.

"It's no big deal, besides, Yachi's posters were also a tremendous help with donations and you guys helped me back and pack all those tiny pastries. It's my pleasure, honestly." I raise my hands in front of me.

"Thank you." He smiles and walks away.

Practice felt like it flew by and the coaches had already started the grills to heat them up. The captains of each team was manning the grills and making sure that everything was cooked to perfection. Daichi gave me the look so I took Kiyoko's wrist and she understood. Looking around the only two boys that seemed the least busy were Tanaka and Nishinoya.

It was a short walk to the store, but while we were there, we had a slight hiccup. Some guys from Fukurodani's regular students were there. They had chosen to hit on Kiyoko and she looked uncomfortable. I tried to distract them from her, but failed. It didn't help that Noya and Tanaka got involved, until I stepped in between and diffused the situation a bit.

"Listen guys, I know she is really beautiful, but she can't go out with you, because she is with me." I step in.

"Yeah, sorry boys. Can't split up the happy couple." Tanaka makes his iconic intimidation face and Noya has a demonic look in his eyes.

"Now, if we can all go about our respective days, that would be amazing." I insist and drag the boys away with Kiyoko and the food cart in tow.

We paid and we left, thinking it would be the last of it. We got back in time with the meat and more soda. The boys celebrated our return and immediately took the items out of our hands and began prep work while the last of the meat had just been put on the grill, but the time it was cooked, the meat we had brought was being put on. The rest of the afternoon goes on with lots of laughter and a light atmosphere.

It was evening by the time the teams had began slowly breaking off to go shower and hit the sack. The captains and a few members stayed behind to help with clean up. Between us we finished up in an hour and placed the trash into the dumpster. The sun had already set and the navy blue sky, like a blanket being pulled over the day to rest.

I wasn't tired so I didn't go back yet, instead I decided to walk around a bit, take in the last views of the school before morning, since we'd be leaving around 7 am to get back by noon and send the team home to rest and study for the exams the rest of the week had instore for us. Thinking over the checklist of things that I could do to kill time, I thought it would be a great idea to go to the store for a last minute run, pick up some cereal bars, or jell-o cups, some kind of snack that didn't need much prep incase the team got peckish on the ride home. Mostly because we weren't going to make breakfast, just pack up, clean and leave.

Apparently the boys from earlier just didn't know when to stop. They just had to follow me at a distance, but I didn't even realize it. It wasn't until I had gotten closer to the gym that they started vandalizing school property. I saw them, with their trash and the faint smell of alcohol hit my nose. I took out my phone and dialed Keishin but he didn't pick up, so I called Daichi.

"Hey y/n, what's up?"

One of the guys had ran towards me and I dropped what I had in hand and my cell phone, luckily it didn't cut off the call.

"Hey, back off, you can't be here."

"Like hell, we can do what we damn well please," one of them slurred.

"Come on cutie, drop the bluenette and come have fun with us instead."

That was all he needed to hear to grab the team and race outside to where I was. Surrounded and trying to find a way out. Nothing seemed viable so I did what I thought and tried to duck under their arms and run, but they caught me by my jacket. I unzipped it and left it in their grasp. I ran until I bumped into something that was soft but sturdy.

"Where are they?" A stern voice.

"Back that way" I answered with my eyes closed still waiting to hit the floor.

"Noya, Tanaka, and Suga, go in first. Rest of you, stagger in." He orders.

"Hey, they didn't touch you right?" He lifted my chin up and I opened my eyes.

"No, but it was really scary." Tears pinching the back of my eyes, just thinking about what could have happened had I not worn the volleyball jacket.

"Shhh, it's okay now. You're safe." He tried to comfort me.

"I tried calling coach but he didn't answer."

"It's okay, we told Kiyoko to stay behind and look for all 3 coaches." He pet my hair.

We stayed like that for a moment until he pulled away first.

"I don't want you walking back alone so come with me and stay behind me. I'll make sure they don't lay a hand on you." He promises.

"Okay" I hesitate.

So of course it caused a commotion and a brawl broke out. Someone called the cops and Noya, Tanaka and I were taken in because of the fight. Daichi had driven to the station with Keishin and Coach Nekomata. While there, the boys were placed in the holding cell while Noya and Tanaka and I were sitting, cuffed on a bench.

"I'm taking the fall, you guys just say it was me that did all the fighting and that they tried to attack you so it's self defense. Okay? I started the fight. You guys can't get into trouble, they'll kick you out of school or something. I'll be fine. So don't fight me. I am your manager and I will hear no protest." I turn to either side of me and they nod in defeat.

After questioning about what had happened I made up a story. About how I was walking back to campus and they were just drunk and spewing nonsense. I tried to get them to leave until one of them grabbed my wrist and I pushed him off as defense, which escalated when his buddies joined in and I fought back, having called my coach to alert him of what's happening. Noya and Tanaka said similar things so the detective gave us all breathalyzer tests to fact check.

We we let go after a few hours.

"Kids!" Keishin is waiting in the lobby to pick us up.

"We're okay coach, a little shaken and roughed up, but we'll be fine." Noya answers.

"Let's go back to campus and you can retell what happened." He looks me up and down to make sure I was okay.

Once back, we went to an empty class on a different floor than the one where everyone was sleeping. I retold what actually happened and the lie we told the cops.

Tch.

"But, they didn't touch you, right?" Kei knelt in front of my seat.

"No, Kei, I'm fine. Scared, but fine." I assure him.

"God, kid, I don't want to think about what could have happened." He engulfs me in a hug.

"I know" muffled into his chest.

Headed to the floor where the rest of the team was, they couldn't sleep. Too anxious about what happened. They try not to crowd me and I bow.

"I'm sorry for worrying you." A few tears slide down my cheek without meaning to.

A chorus of 'don't' could be heard and I couldn't help but feel relief. They ended up giving me a group hug and then they let go after a little. I smile and wipe the tears.

One of the boys managed to grab the things I had dropped and brought them inside. The bag from the store was pretty intact, but my phone sadly was not. It was cracked and had a few scrapes on the exposed metal.

I take my phone and put it in the bag with the things I got. Leaving to the managers room, the tears flow freely. It was scary. I was alone until the guys came to my rescue. I was too scared to lash out. I couldn't move. God I was so stupid.

"Hey, hey, you're safe now, honey." I heard a soothing voice.

"I know, but I could've screamed, done something."

"No, no, none of that. You called us, you did do something and escaped them before we got to you." He cups my face.

I sob a little, but he leans close and looks into my eyes. Its like I was over come with warmth. Like a security blanket wrapped around me. Taking even breaths he thumbs away my tears and gives me a small smile. I flush and my cheeks start getting warm, feeling the blush spread, I look away but he follows my gaze. So I place my hand on his wrist.

Suddenly our lips are just whispers away from touching.

"Are you sure, because I don't want you to feel pressured." our noses grazing each other.

"Kiss me"

It was the sweetest kiss. So soft and gentle, he was treating me like a fragile, porcelain doll.

"I-"

"How about when you feel up to it, I take you out on a date. I'll make it special."

"I would like that." I blush having forgotten all those scary thoughts.

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lynelovespopculture · 4 years

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The Wedding Night-Sequel to the Wedding I worked like a dog to get this up before Part 3.

The Wedding Night

Holding hands, the lovers laughed as they ran across the lawn and up the stairs. They kissed passionately by the door.

“I can’t believe we finally did it! Did we just get married?” Diana asked with a golden smile.

Edward laughed. “Oh, believe it, Mrs. Spellman. You’re stuck with me now. Let’s see, I believe the mortal tradition goes like this-“

Diana laughed deeply as Edward scooped her up in his arms and crossed the threshold after he magically opened the door. It wasn’t until they were inside and he put Diana down that Edward noticed that there was a fire in the front sitting room.

“Hilda? Zelda? ”

But it wasn’t either of his sisters. Edward moved more into the room. Edward would know those nails and that hare topped walking stick anywhere.

“I know that man” Diana whispered to her husband. “He was at the wedding. When he wasn’t glaring at us, he was staring at Zelda. Do you know him?”

“Only half of my life,” Edward mumbled. “Go upstairs, Diana. I’ll be up soon.” Edward kissed his wife’s cheek to reassure her.

Diana left and Edward went to greet his guest. “Hello, Faustus. I was happy to see you at my wedding. I wasn’t sure you be able to make it.” Edward poured 2 brandys and handed Faustus a glass.

“I had to come,” Faustus replied. “I had to see for myself if you had the sheer nerve to betray your own people.”

Edward sat down, threw his head back and sighed. So much for the polite and friendly approach. “I didn’t betray anyone. I just got married.”

“To a moral!” The other man leaned forward heavily on his cane. “Just because you’re high priest doesn’t mean you cannot do whatever you want. There are rules!”

“And I have followed the rules! Diana and I pushed back our wedding a year before Enoch gave permission.”

“Enoch is one of your biggest fans. Of course, he gave you permission. The man is also an idiot.”

“You dare call the anti-pope an idiot?” Demanded Edward.

Faustus considered this. “When it comes to you? Yes. What will you ask for next? The world?”

“Enough!” Edward got up and downed his drink in 1 shot. “What do you have against mortals anyway? What did they ever do to you?”

Faustus chuckled. “I know I haven’t been your teacher in a very long time but here’s a quick history lesson. When witches are exposed to mortals, witches die. Think about Salem or even the 13.”

“I can’t have this fight with you again!” Edward threw up his hands. “Besides, this is not the time for anger. You see, I heard about Constance’s miscarriage-“

“No!” Faustus jumped up. “You don’t get to pretend to care about anyone’s happiness but your own. Not with me. We know that miscarriages occur when marriages displease the dark lord. How can my marriage please the dark lord when it doesn’t even please me?”

Edward rolled his eyes. “Oh, sweet hell, not again.”

“You marry a mortal and almost no one bats an eye, yet you forced me to marry Constance.”

“I did not.” Edward objected. “I gave you a choice.”

“Some choice! “Faustus spat. “You knew I worked on my thesis for decades, but you suddenly decided not to publish it until I married Constance, who just moved to Greendale, within a month! As you may recall, I almost stormed out of your office, refusing to whore myself for my work. Before I could reach the door, you told me of Zelda’s recent elopement with an English warlock and you even showed me a framed picture of the happy couple. You knew I would’ve married any witch you put in front of me after that and you could understand my shock when after my honeymoon, I walked into the school only to come face to face with Zelda’s new husband, mopping the floor! I asked around and I came to decide that either Zelda had married the academy’s new janitor, or you lied to me. It was confirmed when I sneaked into your office, found the exact picture you showed me, but it was only Zelda and Hilda, who both came home about 2 weeks later.”

“That’s all history now.” Edward dismissed. “What’s your point?”

“You’re married to the mortal you’re smitten with. I can barely stand being in the same room as my wife and both your sisters are unmarried and wasting their lives delivering other people’s children when they should be having babies of their own.”

“Hey, my sisters are allowed to marry whoever and whenever they want.”

“Anyone but me that is. Why Edward, why?”

“You really want to know? I’ll tell you. It’s because I don’t trust you, Faustus. I can’t really put my finger on as to why, but there’s something dark and dangerous inside you. Plus, I still remember when I was still a student and you took home and I will never forget how your father treated, what was it? Your 7th stepmother.”

“I am nothing like my father!” Faustus objected violently. “I never met a man I hated more until I met you!”

Edward shook his head. “You didn’t always hate me. We used to be friends.”

“True.” Faustus agreed. “I thought we were friends the first time I asked for Zelda’s hand in marriage and you rebuked me. I only slightly disliked when you were first made high priest and I begged you to marry Zelda and again you refused me. I only really started to hate you when you married me off and then you started to play matchmaker between Zelda and every single warlock in the coven.”

Edward advanced. “Well, hate this. I don’t think Zelda will be single for much longer. You see, my sister has been away from the house more and more lately. I think she’s finally found the man for her.” Faustus laughed. “What’s so funny?” Edward demanded.

“I’m that man,” Faustus informed him.

“You and Zelda are having an affair?”

“Only in my dreams. But we have been talking more. Unlike the rest of you Spellmans, Zelda actually respects witch law and is having trouble accepting your marriage and didn’t want to trouble her darling brother.”

“You’re lying. I know my sister; she would have gone to Hilda.”

“Wrong. Hilda is getting so chummy with your moral that poor Zelda feels that she’s losing her sister.”

“So, she turned to you?” Edward shook his head, walked out of the room and started up the stairs.

Faustus followed. “What are you going to do? Yell at Zelda for speaking to an old friend?”

“No. I’m going up to my wife. I suggest you go home to yours and accept that you will never have my sister.”

Faustus’s hand tightened around his cane. “Go to heaven, Edward! After this marriage, where else would you go?” Faustus turned and left.

“Faustus! Faustus!”

Faustus Blackwood opened his eyes as he felt someone shaking his knee. His neck felt a little sore as he lifted his head up from the soft leather of the limo’s backseat.

“What is it, Peter?” He asked of the monk who woke him.

“Sorry to wake you, but we can’t decide what to do.” Peter explained. “You see, the road has been washed out by the storm.”

“Storm?” Faustus looked out the window and sure enough, he saw big, fat drops of rain coming down so hard that Faustus couldn’t even see the road. “How long have I been asleep?”

“About 2 hours, Brother Faustus, and it’s been raining for 1. It’s been getting worse ever since.”

“We’ve been thinking about turning around and stopping at a hotel in the town we just passed.”

“We can’t!” Faustus objected. “We’ll miss our plane to Rome.”

“The driver is on the phone to the airport right now and if the plane is grounded, we may have no choice.” Said another monk.

Then there It was a strange noise.

“I’m sorry.” Peter said while rubbing his stomach. “I didn’t eat dinner.”

“Most of us didn’t. I’m hungry too.” Faustus confessed.

They were interrupted by the driver, who informed them that indeed that the flight to Rome would be grounded until the storm passed.

“Cheer up.” Peter said when he looked at Faustus’s face. “Did you really want to spend your wedding night on an airplane?”

“Good point.” Faustus smiled as he sat and looked at his new bride. Zelda was asleep, resting her head against her window. Faustus couldn’t help but let his eyes roamed all over her. Her perfect legs were crossed. She was still snuggled up in 1 of Judas’s baby blanket that Faustus tucked her in himself.

Satan, she’s beautiful, Faustus thought. And she’s finally mine, truly mine. My Zelda, my wife. At long last!

The limo took a sharp turn and a sleeping Zelda landed with her head on her husband’s shoulder. He put an arm around her and played with her hair.

“Damn it!” Roy, the night manager of the Dreamland Hotel slammed down the phone and looked up to see most of his teenage staff putting on their jackets. “Where do y’all think you’re going?”

“Home, boss.” Said a boy whose name escaped Roy. “Shift’s over.”

Roy shook his head. “I don’t think so. That call was about a party of 16. They’ll be here in about 20 minutes. They want dinner and rooms for the night.”

“Dinner?!” The boy objected “It’s almost midnight!”

“Relax. There 24-hour take-out place around the corner. We’ll just put the noodles on plates.”

“Why should we stay?” asked a girl.

“Because they’re willing to pay 3 times the normal amount for any inconvenience.”

The teens cheered while Roy smiled. He never said he would be sharing the money, dumb kids.

When the hotel’s lighted sign came into view, Faustus decided to wake up his wife. “Zelda? Sweetheart?” He gently shook her and then he placed a kiss on her lips, only then did Zelda awake.

She was groggy. “Are we already at the airport?”

Faustus smiled. “No, dearest. A storm came and had to change to our plans since no one has a weather spell on them.”

“We’re here.” Announced Peter, who got out of the car.

Zelda leaned forward to look out the limo’s window. “And where is here?”

“Just a hotel, dearest. A place for food, sleep and” Faustus whispered in her ear. “Other wedding night type things.”

“Splendid.” Zelda reached for her purse.

Faustus smiled. “Which? The food, sleep, or sex?”

“All” Zelda smiled.

Roy was at the front desk when the limo pulled up. The party of 16 ranged from some very old men, adults, some teens, and even an infant. Roy noticed that they were all dressed in black, even the baby! Like a cult! 16 freaks.

Correction, Roy thought as soon as he saw her, 15 freaks and 1 smoking hot redhead!

Some of them were going into the rec hall for their requested meal but most were heading to the restrooms. Roy snapped his fingers and placed a bellhop at the desk. He tried to cut off the redhead before she went to the restroom. He was too late, so he waited outside the bathroom for the redhead to come out. Finally, after what seemed like a million flushes and like 8 people coming out, some gave him weird looks, he saw the redhead. She had taken off her cloak, hat, and gloves and carried it all in her arms. Roy quickly looked down at her hand, no ring, good.

“Hey there!”

The redhead barely looked at him. “Hello.”

She turned away but Roy fell in step beside her. “You know, if I could rearrange the alphabet, I put you and me together.”

“I think you mean you and I. Me is a word, not a letter.”

The redhead was walking a bit faster, but Roy got in front of the woman, his hand on the wall, blocking her way. “What are you? A teacher or something?”.

“Yes.” She said simply and then ducked under his arm.

Roy didn’t or wouldn’t take the hint and was beside her again.

“So, what’s your name, pretty lady?”

However, pretty lady was more interested in the the woman coming toward them and stopped her. “Louise, do you know if we smoke on this floor?”

“I don’t think so, Sister Zelda.”

“Great.” She muttered.

“Zelda, huh? Well, you can call me Link baby, you can be my princess anytime.” He caught her hand and bought it up to his lips.

“You’re still here?” It was Zelda’s only comment.

“Why are you so rude?” Roy advanced and Zelda’s back was against the wall.

“I’m not rude.” Zelda was as calm as ever. “I’m tired, and even more than that, I’m hungry. I only had an apple to eat today.”

“Why didn’t you say so, beautiful? You see, I’m the manager here and I can open the kitchen just for you and you can pick anything you want from the menu and we’ll have a nice, quiet meal in my office. It’s a much better offer than the cold noodles I’m feeding the freaks.”

Zelda stared at him. “Freaks? You dare call my people freaks?” She shoved him away, harder than Roy thought possible.

“Hey!” Roy caught her arm as Zelda walked away or tried to.

“Excuse me.” Came a new, male voice. “Is there a problem here?”

Roy looked up to see a tall man, in a suit. To Roy, he looked like a vampire. “What’s wrong, Count Dracula, out of hair gel? You need to mind your own business!”

The man took a step forward. “My wife is my business!”

“She’s not married, dude! I checked her hand!”

Zelda chuckled, shook herself free and shuffled her things to her other hand to hold up the hand with a wedding ring on it. “Wrong hand, idiot.”

“Step away from my wife, mortal.”

“Mortal? Who talks like that? Who are you, guys?”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Faustus, my dear, you need to learn how to act with the outside world. I’m a little groggy to use magic right now but now I have no choice.”

Roy looked from one to the other. “Mortal? Magic? What the hell-“

“Never mind!” Zelda held a palm and Roy was in a trace. “Now, Link was it? You already behave like a child so why not play like a child? Go outside and play in the puddles.” Zelda ordered.

Faustus smiled. “You know it might rain all night?”

“All the better” His wife took his arm. “More puddles for him to find.”

By the time, Zelda sat down to supper in the rec hall, some of the party had already finished and left. Cold Chinese was hardly a favorite, but she truly was starving so she ate everything on her plate. As she nursed her wine, Zelda watched more and more people leave and Zelda longed to withdraw herself but knew as Lady Blackwood, she had to play hostess to the monks who barely spoke a word to her.

After a respectable hour, Zelda rose. “Gentlemen, by your kind permission, I wish to withdraw.”

Zelda got the permission when the men rose and bowed to her.

“I’ll be up as soon as I can,” Faustus whispered before he kissed her, and she nodded.

They rented out a whole floor and as the honeymoon suite was already taken so Faustus and Zelda was placed in another suite at the end of the hall. Zelda opened the door and heard Louise, a teacher at the academy scolding some schoolgirls.

“You three were brought along to attend to Lady Blackwood, not to play with some mortal boy’s minds.”

“What’s going on here?” Demanded Zelda, her hand on her hip.

The girls leaped up. “Lady Blackwood.”

“These girls were found playing with some mortal boys from the hotel staff when they were supposed to be preparing your room,” Louise told her.

“I’d my fill of mortals for 1 night. It has been a very long day for all of us. Why don’t you girls go to find your rooms and go to bed? The girls fled.

“You’ll just let those girls off the hook.” Louise frowned.

“The room seems fine and I don’t feel like being a teacher right now.” Zelda took off her jewelry. “All I want is a warm bath before Faustus comes up.”

“Should I run it for you?”

“What for?” Zelda smiled as both witches heard the water running.

“Showoff! I’ll just find your nightgown and leave it on the bed.

“Thank you.” Zelda grabbed a cigarette from her purse and the ashtray and headed into the bathroom. She turned off the tap and stripped. It felt so good to lower her body into the water and took a puff. 20 minutes later, Zelda toweled off and was putting on her nightgown when she heard a baby cry. She went into the next room to find another schoolgirl having trouble calming Judas. Zelda settled the girl and then took both bassinette and baby back to her own room. She changed him fed him and rock him to sleep while she sat by the fire.

“There, my little one, all you wanted was food and sleep. Just like the rest of us.”

2 hours! It took 2 hours for Faustus to escape that damn rec hall! It’s amazing how a little free-flowing wine could turn silent monks into huge asses! They could do whatever they wanted but he had a bride and a baby waiting for him. Faustus doubled checked that everyone was where they should be before he dismissed the boys. He walked into his room and stopped at the breathtaking scene. His baby boy, asleep and happy and in the arms of the woman who should have borne him, the only woman Faustus Blackwood had ever and would ever love. The light of the fire bounced off Zelda’s wedding ring.

Are you seeing this, Edward? Faustus wondered to himself. He had seen and heard a lot of Edward Spellman’s ghost lately. Even today, at the wedding, he knew it was Sabrina, because her father was already there, off to the side, glaring at even him before Zelda came down the aisle. It was just too ironic that it was the same glare that Faustus had used when Edward had married him to Constance. What he never told Edward, what Faustus never told anyone that he had only been able to complete that farce wedding to Constance by mentally transforming the bride’s ebony skin to ivory and her black hair to red. Faustus had said his marriage vows to Zelda that day, not Constance. The fantasy was over, however, as soon as Zelda opened her mouth and spoke with Constance’s voice. That day, Faustus lost something truly precious. He tried to get it back by sleeping with half the coven, but he only ever came close when he saw Zelda, be it at mass or around Greendale. He never felt whole again until that night he kissed Zelda by the fire. He was reborn at that moment. After making love, he vowed never to lose Zelda again. It was right after that night that Edward started to pop up everywhere. Faustus didn’t understand why until after Constance died that it became clear; not even Edward Spellman, hell’s own golden boy, the man who had broken all the rules and gotten away with it, could cheat Faustus of his fate and that fate was Zelda. True, this wedding day had not gone according to plan, but he couldn’t blame Edward for it. No, that blame went to Edward’s blond brat. It that girl had, for once, minded her own business and not gave Enoch Edward’s manifesto which had appeared out of nowhere after 16 years, Faustus wouldn’t have had to kill that Edward fanatic and could have actually enjoyed his wedding day instead of dodging Spellmans left and right and wedding the love of his life in the everyday setting of his office but none of that mattered now. The only Spellman who truly mattered was now a Blackwood and was asleep in the chair before him. Faustus knelt before them, trying to commit this perfect memory of his sleeping wife and son to his mind forever. When Judas began to fuss, Faustus stood and tried to ease him from Zelda’s lap without waking her. He was unsuccessful.

“Oh!” Zelda woke with a start.

“Hi. It’s okay, I got him.” He smiled and kissed her.

“Okay.” She kissed him back.

He put his already back to sleep son in his bassinet and carried it over to the bed. “Dearest, why didn’t you relax in bed? You would have been more comfortable.”

Zelda got up and followed him. “Faustus, I realized that nothing about our wedding day was traditional, but I’ll be damned if I went to bed alone on my wedding night.”

He went to her. “In that case, Lady Blackwood, you’re overdressed.” He pushed back her robe and kissed her neck as the robe fell the floor. He did love her neck. Zelda teased him more than once about being a vampire because he was always kissing or sucking on her neck. So much so that if he spotted Zelda wearing a heavy necklace or a high collar, he knew she was hiding a hickey. They undressed each other and made love as passionately as they were still having a secret affair. Faustus didn’t remember falling asleep, but the baby’s cries woke him. He got up, settled the infant and then turned and stared at Zelda, naked in bed, her red hair fanned out on her pillow and best of all, his ring on her finger. Why is the love of my life Edward’s sister? Faustus wondered for the millionth time. Why must she be a Spellman? Faustus wasn’t a fool. To destroy Edward’s family, once he returned to Greendale, Faustus knew that he had to remove Zelda, the true Zelda, from the situation, at least for a little while and that was a huge risk and his greatest fear. He pushed the thought away and as he got back in bed, Faustus noticed his wedding ring and smiled. He had convinced Constance that he just wasn’t a ring person, but the truth was that his 1st marriage was no true union. Now, he would proudly wear Zelda’s ring for the rest of his life. It was only now, this moment in time, in a dark hotel room, with rain falling on the roof, with his son 3 feet away and his wife in his arms, that Faustus Blackwood was truly happy.

#the chilling tales of sabrina #caos #fanfic #sequel #spellwood #zelda spellman #faustus blackwood #zelda x faustus

29 notes · View notes

wonderlustlucas · 5 years

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greatest gift - park chanyeol

⇢ prompt I cannot form an answer with my lips because I am so focused on yours. ⇢ pairing chanyeol x female reader ⇢ word count 8.7k ⇢ genre fluff & smut ⇢ warnings explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected bathroom sex!, dirty talk, chan loves mirrors, borderline dom!pcy but it’s pretty soft, friends to lovers, christmas, i kind of got some classic white people at parties vibe but that may just be me, chanyeol in christmas pajamas ⇢ summary After years of being in love with your best friend’s cousin, Park Chanyeol, one certain Christmas party leads to some unbelievable confessions and activities in the bathroom that most certainly would get you on Santa’s naughty list.—christmas party!au ⇢ a/n merry belated christmas!! i apologize for the lateness... anyway. & happy new year!! :) for being almost 9k and for me taking 15 centuries to write i actually wrote this moderately quick so yay i hope u enjoy sex c christmas chanyeol

read the sequel here!

Judging by the blinding streaks of radiant sunlight penetrating through the blinds and the distant hum of activity from the streets outside your window, you have slept way longer than you bargained for. With a mesmerized sigh you soak in the warmth upon waking up, stretch your arms and yawn, shedding the remaining glimpses of a dream.

However, the sound of your phone ringing like an annoyed rattlesnake renders your peacefulness impossible, having awakened you in the first place, and you grudgingly reach blindly for the chiming nuisance.

“Hello?” You mumble into the speaker after kneading your eyes with your knuckles and swiping across the screen, the thick enchantment of sleep still clouding your brain.

“Jesus, ___, did you just wake up?” The obvious bewilderment in none other than Park Seoyun’s tone causes you to laugh groggily, only fueling her astonishment tenfold. “Wow, I’m glad I called when I did then,” she utters.

“Why? What’s up?” You ask, converting the call to speaker mode and resting the device on your chest. “Because you’re supposed to be ready in three hours?” She says, tone laced with annoyance. “You know, the Christmas party? The one you’ve gone to with me every year?”

Oh, yeah.

Ever since you were young, Seoyun has invited you to attend nearly all of her family’s gatherings throughout the years, a tradition that began as a nonchalant need of a friend’s company to survive the dreadful hours spent with family and friends she had no real interest in seeing.

Sad, how that works.

Of course, you would not complain, considering over the years you have bonded with her family just as much as your own.

“Pfft, of course,” you laugh in a weak attempt to blow off your forgetfulness, “I totally remembered. I’m on top of the game right now, Sunny. Nothing to worry about.”

“Mm,” she hums in faux belief, you can practically see her eyeroll, “Chanyeol asked if you were coming.”

Chanyeol? Park Chanyeol? Park fuck-me-in-every-way-known-and-unknown-to-man Chanyeol?

“Of course he did,” you scoff, trying to play off the way your heartbeat rapidly picks up at the thought of him asking whether you would be there as if you do not care, “I’ve only been to every one of your parties for like, the past fifteen years.”

Seoyun laughs. “Anyway, I’ll be over around five. Try not to take too long just so you can impress your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” You shout in protest. At the silence that follows you realize she has already hung up. Bitch, you sigh, rolling over to check the time, sheets rustling loudly in your ears. The 2:00 pm blinking back at you from your digital clock takes a few moments to process through your brain before you realize just how badly you overslept and how much your sleep schedule is fucked.

Still, this cannot take the stupefied grin off your face.

It takes everything within you to kickstart your nerves into working, just some cereal and you’ll be on your way, you tell yourself, finally sweeping the ruffled blankets elsewhere and abandoning the warmth of bed. Walking out of the room, you make your way into the kitchen and wince at the momentarily blinding light bouncing off the windows before continuing on to unroll the bag of Honey Bunches of Oats and pour a hefty serving into a bowl, the scratching and ruffling of plastic filling the otherwise silent apartment.

Because even after eating, watching an episode of iCarly, and spending an unnecessarily prolonged time in the shower to shave, the thoughts racing through your brain are of one person and one person only: none other than Chanyeol.

Seoyun claims that it did not take her long to recognize your developing crush on her cousin, considering she had been shipping the two of you the second you told her that you thought he was cute in sixth grade.

According to her, the slaughter that your heart (and underwear, as you got older) endured every time you came twenty feet of the panty-dropping man was excruciatingly obvious and she forced the confession out of you like a fisherman casting mercilessly. Whether it was the effects of alcohol or solely the accumulation of being caught and needing to reveal everything to your best friend, you spilled everything to Seoyun after your first high school party without a hint of hesitation or embarrassment because let’s be real, there’s absolutely nothing shameful about being attracted to such a man.

Nonetheless, it was still terribly awkward. Not only is he Seoyun’s cousin, but Chanyeol has also always been a step ahead, considering he is three years older.

For example, years ago when he was starting university and you were only a junior in high school, you could have sworn that he was blatantly flirting with you over text only hours before he posted a picture with some gorgeous senior perched prettily on his lap. You mopped around for hours, and Seoyun’s only form of consolidation was, “Don’t worry. He’s a hoe.”

As if that helped.

Even before that, years prior when you were in eighth grade and he was a sophomore, you had joined Seoyun on her large family vacation for the first time. During movie night, you were curled up dangerously close to his chest and could not remember any of the horror film the following day considering you had prayed the entire time that he could not hear how your heart did somersaults in your chest or why your lower stomach squirmed every time his breath fanned against your neck. Weeks later, you cried yourself to sleep when you found out he had a new girlfriend, knowing it was way too good to be true for him to share your feelings when you were in middle school.

After all, you were just a ‘little sister’ to him.

Or, when the same event occurred only a few months ago, while you, Seoyun, and the rest of her cousins snuggled up to watch the new Jurassic World instead of going out for the third night in a row, Chanyeol eagerly leaped to sit beside you and, as a result of his dramatic begging, you became his pillow and slept through the night with his arms wrapped snuggly around your waist and his legs entangled with your own.

It would not have been so bad if you did not wake up with a boner pressing against your back.

Still, this excludes the random ab pictures sent over SnapChat if a conversation turned a certain direction, the videos of him playing a new song he would text, the intense checking-out, the questionable touches, the heart-stopping compliments, and so, so much more that has transpired over the years. And yet, the realization that hurts the most is not simply an attraction to a gorgeous man just out of reach, it is that you know that you love him.

If it was not for the years and personal time spent with him, you would have never developed such a raw emotion for Chanyeol. It would have never grown past a basic attraction. But no—his baby face mismatched with his deep voice, his bright personality that can lift the spirit of any room, the somewhat concerning way he still does not know how to handle his general largeness, his effortless ability to make anyone laugh, his unfailing kindness, his ears, his laugh. Oh, the list goes on and on.

The way he oozes natural charm fused with all the times and tiny memories spent together made for a solemn night several years ago where you had the incomprehensible realization that your universe starts and ends with Park Chanyeol.

Ever since they retired and moved into a smaller living space, Seoyun’s grandparents have held every holiday gathering in the common room of their apartment building. It’s convenient, free of charge, and, as a result of their first-class living, luxurious and very, very large.

After setting foot into the building’s first floor through the immaculately flawless glass doors and gawking at the pristine white marble floors, guests make their way to the common room just past the receptionist’s desk, where a woman sits in front of a computer, waiting drearily for her shift to end. The common room is like a perfect magazine cover with its linen white curtains, the kind of white untouched by hands and devoid of dust.

Upon entering said room, to the left is a fairly open space accessible for the Pollyanna gifts—aka where all the ladies in their mid-forties and fifties flock around like seagulls to discuss their favorite candle scents for the winter season.

To the right of this is a lounging area with a sofa, two loveseats, a long glass coffee table in the middle, and a fireplace against the wall. Nothing more, nothing less. Besides the facts that the leather of the couches and fur pillows appear to be real and that the fireplace’s mantel seems to contain enough expensive knickknacks to pay off student loans.

Past this is where the party really begins. Also known as the dining tables. Two huge mahogany tables with matching chairs take up most of the bright room’s space, left without a tablecloth and daring guests to ruin the perfectly varnished shine. Two tall, gold candelabras command attention from the center of each table, holding smooth white candles that go without being lit each year. To the right of the tables is a grand piano, shiny and pitch black against the white marble floors and white walls and waiting to be played. No one ever plays.

The far end of the common room is another lounging area, this one with an enormous television instead of an extravagant fireplace mantel. Next to this is the entrance to a small kitchen for the party to store and serve food “buffet style,” if so desired. Stainless steel appliances seemingly untouched by hands, brick walls painted white, and the same marble floor throughout the entire floor. Out of the kitchen, a hallway with two bathrooms leads back to the lobby.

Having been here so many times, walking in with Seoyun at your side is no problem. Even greeting all her family and their friends, albeit your awkwardness when it comes to being social, is not a problem. Trying to silence the animalistic sounds of your growling stomach until dinner is ready is also, surprise, ultimately not a problem.

Now, what is a problem, something that started as a minor concern during the first ten minutes after arriving but now consumes you alive, is that after two and a half fucking hours, Chanyeol has not spoken to you once.

At first, you thought he may have just not seen you. But after making eye contact for even a split second one too many times within the first hour, you know he had to of seen you. Even when you and Seoyun went over to stand by him and two more of her older cousins, he still refused to say a word. So now, as you sit alone on the leather sofa, angry, hurt, and trying to ignore a woman talking much too loudly about her new duvets while Seoyun is off doing God knows what, you have no other option but to just look around the luxurious room in order to occupy your thoughts in some way that does not end up going back to Chanyeol.

Deciding on the richly carved mantel of the fireplace just in front of you, you start from the exquisite plate-glass clock in the middle and scan to the right: a silver drinking-cup, a small oval portrait of a young woman framed in gold, and a crystal vase filled with white tulips. And then to the left: two dainty china figures of a lamb and a shepherd, a porcelain, heart-shaped box, a blue cloisonné pitcher, and several other bisque porcelain figures—a dachshund, a cat and kittens, and an angel.

Just as you are getting to the flower pots sparsely placed throughout the room, a flimsy box is suddenly flung onto your lap. When you look up, completely zapped out of your daze, Seoyun flops down beside you with a grimace.

“Pajama time,” she sighs, lifting the lid of her own box and pulling out the fuzzy Christmas top, “perhaps I’ll end my life now.”

Laughing, you do the same, amused and not as disappointed as you thought you would be when you lift the plain red long-sleeve shirt and plaid red and white pajama bottoms. “Hopefully it’ll be quick this year.”

One of Seoyun’s family Christmas traditions you have grown accustomed to is her grandmother buying all the children pajamas and forcing them into one big family photo, whether you are actually family or not. What many of you did not realize was that “children” simply meant the youngest generation.

So now, ranging between the age of two and twenty-eight, nearly half of the party’s guests have to stop what they are doing and change for the picture.

“I hope so, too,” she mutters, scowling as she watches a wave of guests head for the bathrooms, “come on. There’s a closet in the computer room where we could get changed.”

Nodding, you follow Seoyun to the hallway and head for the conveniently unoccupied computer room and shut yourselves in the dark closet before changing. “Are you okay? You’ve been awfully quiet,” she suddenly springs on you, effortlessly popping the bubble you have secluded yourself in. “What? No, I’m fine. Just tired… I guess,” you answer, laughing shakily as you pull the pajama bottoms up your legs. They are terribly snug around your butt.

Past the darkness speckling your vision, you can still see Seoyun glaring at you, seeing right through your bullshit. You take in a deep breath of the stale air.

“Just… I don’t know. I sound like a baby. Chanyeol has not said one word to me since we’ve been here,” you say, pushing your arms through the sleeves of the red shirt, “and I don’t know why, or if I did anything, or if he’s just being a dick. I have no clue.”

Seoyun exhales loudly, planting her hands firmly on her hips before, “Listen, I don’t know what is up with him, either. I know it’ll be hard, but don’t let him get to you. Just ignore him too, stop looking at him so he sees you don’t give a shit about him.”

“But I do give a shit,” you grumble, jutting your bottom lip out and staring at your feet.

“Well, today you don’t. Don’t let him win, okay? Show him you could care less,” she preaches, reaching out to pull you into a hug and you graciously take it. “Thanks. I’ll try,” you mumble into her neck, squeezing her tightly before stepping back and collecting your clothes.

“Ready for this picture?”

“I was born ready.”

You were not, in fact, ready. For as soon as you left the closet and met up with every other person dressed in ridiculous pajamas at the lobby, Chanyeol came sauntering in looking like he owned the damn place.

Even in Christmas pajamas, he still managed to look like a god.

Stop looking, you scolded yourself when he glanced over. And you did, turning away from where he stood and moving to the opposite side of the group for the twenty minutes it took until everyone was there for the picture. Huddling over one of Seoyun’s younger cousins, you smiled until your jaw was numb as every adult fumbled with their cell phone, proud that you managed to forget Chanyeol.

So, when you and Seoyun end up splitting up in search of another place to change since a young janitor had taken to cleaning the computer room, you were rather shocked to see that the only person in line for the bathroom was you. Perhaps everyone had gone home after the infamous picture.

But what is even more shocking is to watch disbelievingly as Park Chanyeol strolls towards you from the end of the hallway as you lean against the wall opposite of the women’s bathroom, waiting for whoever is inside to open the door. His entire walk you glare at him coldly, pulse quickly picking up as he gets closer.

After what seems like the walk to Calvary, he’s finally beside you.

“___,” he greets with an innocent smile, leaning on the wall with you and you wince, quickly looking away from him. From what you can see from your peripheral vision, he’s looking at you, yet you refuse to look back. There is simply no shot that you would so easily brush off the fact he has ignored you the past few hours, no matter how much you ache to.

“Aw, what?” Chanyeol whines after processing your lack of acknowledgment. He shifts closer, bare arm brushing yours and you cannot fight your shiver. So quickly you are putty in his hands. “Mad that I didn’t talk to you today?”

Yes. Biting your tongue to keep back the sarcasm that bubbles like acid at the back of your throat, you only grace him with an icy glance before crossing your arms and returning your gaze to the door across from where you stand. “Don’t be like that,” he grumbles, voice unacceptably low as he stoops down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Brain on overdrive at his proximity, you finally look at him with his big puppy eyes and sigh, “Say you’re sorry.”

“You’re sorry,” he smirks, eyes bright with triumph. What a child.

The hot annoyance burning its way through your veins only intensifies and you shrug his head off your shoulder, sidestepping further away and praying for whoever is occupying the restroom to hurry their ass up. When a quiet protest slips past his lips, you look over at him, head pounding because why does he have to be such a dick and why does he look so good?

You simply cannot fight it, the way your gaze mindlessly travels up his body, albeit the dumb Christmas pajamas that just barely stretch over his build, scanning over the proportions of his frame, lingering on how taut the white tee-shirt is against the expanse of his shoulders and chest, and finally struggling to settle back onto his face. When you meet Chanyeol’s eyes, you know he knows, for you were far from nonchalant.

When a noise analogous to a growl resounds from his throat, you are momentarily blindsided, seeing stars, as this was the last reaction you expected and yet, your nausea only triples when he takes two long strides to stand beside you. No—not beside you. In the blink of an eye Chanyeol is against you, hands reaching for your waist and pushing you back with enough force that a gasp escapes you upon impact with the wall. Or, maybe that was simply the shock from it all.

“You know,” Chanyeol mutters, voice so dangerously deep your stomach churns, “I did that on purpose. I like watching how you react to me.”

“Excuse me?” You laugh, sounding way more out of breath than you would like to as you stare wide-eyed at him, fear of the unexpected rooted deep in your stomach. Your mind simply cannot process his words or understand why he takes your change of clothes bunched up in your fist and drops it on the floor with his own. “You heard me,” he smirks, hands gliding lower, lower, lower, oh, you find purchase gripping his biceps when his fingers dare to press into the flesh of your ass, “I can read you like a book. Sometimes,” he pauses, tongue darting out to wet his lips, “I feel like I know you better than you know yourself.”

Every ounce of breath seems to be stolen from your lungs, floating in the air as he speaks, you cannot seem to think with him like this and the acceptance that you are simply a piece in his game of chess angers the sensible part of you. “That sounds like manipulation to me,” you finally say, cocking your head to the side and staring up at him with a certain hardness in your gaze. “Mm,” he hums, seemingly pondering for a moment before ducking down to press his lips under your jaw, placing a sloppy kiss to the tender skin before, “like I said, I enjoy watching. You can’t catch my hints to save your life, so I had to switch things up.”

Your mind is in no shape to process his words with his mouth on your throat, so quickly he tarnishes the skin there, bruising with bright magentas and deep violets and God, what about hints? Squeezing your eyes shut, you cannot help but wonder if this is it—the straw that breaks the camel’s back, shatters the vase and shakes the earth—whether you are stuck in some disturbingly unfair dream or if this is all happening because he somehow feels the same.

“You’re quiet again,” Chanyeol grunts, deserting your throat to meet your gaze and the curiosity softening his features has you weak in the knees, “what are you thinking?”

You swallow, overwhelmed, studying the hesitance that crosses his beautiful face before breathing, “I really can’t think when the only thing I’m focused on is your lips.”

That’s it. The chord inside him finally snaps and Chanyeol closes the distance, silencing the heavy breaths that leave your lips with his own. Twelve years still were not enough to prepare either of you for this moment. A sensation akin to the explosion of fireworks, kissing Chanyeol has a burst of vivid, fizzing sparks coursing through your veins and coloring your insides. The urgency of the kiss—opening his mouth with yours, his hands returning to knead your ass and pull you closer, your hands wrapping into his shirt—translates into a sort of unspoken mutual understanding that settles into the core of your heart, affirming that this should have happened a long time ago.

Chanyeol breaks away to trail his lips lower than before and your whimper of protest at the loss of just kissing him is quickly cut off with a gasp when he licks the indent of your collarbone, working back up your neck to slide over your jaw. When he pauses at the side of your mouth to offer you some recovery time and raises his eyes to meet yours, you gather the courage to tenderly cup his face in your hands and plant a softer kiss on his lips. In response he exhales in relief, hugging his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as his tongue finds its way working against your own once more.

Certainly, you must have died and gone to heaven to experience such bliss.

Warmth blooming in your chest, your hand slides away from his jaw to the nape of his neck, tugging at the hair there and Chanyeol gasps into the kiss, immediately responding with his lips moving and pressing in such a way that has your head positively swimming. Just like that, you are drowning in warm, heavy air as the dizzy sense of euphoria shifts into desire welling within you when he bites your lower lip, tugging it into his mouth to suck on. “I can’t believe,” he breathes against your lips, breaking away to stare down intensely into your eyes, “this is the first time we’re doing this.”

“In the hallway of your grandpa’s apartment lobby, to boot,” you laugh breathlessly, searching Chanyeol’s face for the emotion hidden beneath the darkening of his stare. You’re somewhere in between losing yourself to his lips roughly tumbling over the apple of your throat and dragging your fingers under his shirt, hands cool against the burning heat of his back, when the bursting open of the bathroom door across from where you stand turns the hot moment to ice. Scrambling to get away from one another, you and Chanyeol start in a frantic series of yelps, kicking limbs, and pat-downs before you urge yourself to glare at whoever occupied the single woman’s restroom for such an excruciatingly long time.

Gaze softening once you recognize that it is one of Seoyun’s distant cousins and her young daughter, you watch with a new wave of embarrassment flushing over you as her eyes flick back and forth between you and Chanyeol, both clearly riled up and panting, before leading her toddler in the opposite direction as she bites against a knowing grin. For a long moment you watch her go, the reality of what just took place sinking to the pit of your stomach and you trace your swollen bottom lip with the pad of your finger, clenching your eyes shut to somehow burn the touch of his lips into your mind forever.

Chanyeol’s loud exhale somewhere besides you cuts your daydreaming off short, and you turn to look at him as the fire in your veins starts to dwindle into ash. “We just,” you start, voice catching in your throat and sounding much weaker than you intended, “what was that?”

Having him off of you gives you unfiltered access to stare at him, pupils blown and his breath coming sharply, and your gaze subconsciously travels down the length of his body in order to engrave the image of how beautiful he looks in this moment onto your brain for eternity until, oh, you finally take notice to the bulge that the thin material of his pajama bottoms do little to hide. Seeing this, you at last register the hot drip of desire between your legs and the way your body trembles with uncontainable want.

“I… I don’t know,” Chanyeol admits, his low, hoarse voice draining any control you had left, “I would like to do it again, though.”

Do it, please, please do it, you want to say, pulse jump-starting at his declaration. Instead, you are rendered speechless, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words, with the muffled hum of festive celebration from his family just around the corners. In a sudden act of impromptu bravery, you bundle your clothes—his, too—into your arm from the floor and stretch over to grab his wrist before quickly kicking open the bathroom door and hurrying him inside after you.

“Let me get this straight,” you start once the door clicks shut, voice suddenly booming in the small confines of the bathroom and Chanyeol jerks in surprise when you slam the clothes onto the floor with an ungratifying thump, “what is going on here? Because that was not a normal kiss—that was like… a sicko mode kiss. And I mean, you have to know by now I have the biggest crush on you, no, actually, I’m totally in love with you. So if you’re just doing this to mess with me, then I don’t know wh—"

Overwhelmed but enamored by your quick, almost unintelligible spiel, Chanyeol figures his best bet at shutting you up is returning his hands to your hips to pull you flush against him and latching his lips to yours, capturing your mouth and train of thought in such a deep kiss it sucks all the air out of your lungs. Instantly, your fingers thread through his hair, lost once more to him—his musky fragrance, the sinful way his tongue wraps around yours, the effortless manner he lifts you up onto the marble countertop.

“Can I take this off?” He asks suddenly, breathless as he pulls away, fingers toying the hem of your tee-shirt up your back. Afraid your words would come off as a croak, you only nod, trying to reel yourself in on how oddly polite his question is juxtaposing to the darkness of his hungry eyes. In one quick motion, Chanyeol helps rid you of the garment, tossing it to join your change of clothes on the freezing tiles. Sighing at the sight, he brings his hands to your chest, lost in the way you shiver beneath his featherlight touches tracing the column of your throat, coasting over your collar bones and finally to the swell of your breasts spilling out from the underwhelmingly mediocre beige bra. It’s with yet another surge of bravery and desire do you reach behind you, fumbling to undo the clasps and watching as Chanyeol’s stare turns to something predatory as he soaks it all in.

“That’s just unfair,” he groans, hesitating, for he fears that if he reaches out and touches you this way, you will break under his fingers like a porcelain doll. In the end, he realizes he is being foolish—he knows you’re here to stay—and at last brings himself to stand between your legs. Finally. Your breathing turns heavy when his mouth starts its ravishing once more, nipping and sucking tender marks down your jaw and at the junction of your neck and shoulder. At last, his lips meet your breast and he does not hesitate in taking a bud gently between his teeth, rolling the other into a hard peak between his index finger and thumb. This time you cannot suppress your moan.

“Oh,” you swear, “fuck.”

Smirking against your skin, Chanyeol relishes in the sound, eyes heavy-lidded and blood pumping hotly under his skin as he bites a violet blossom on the mound of flesh before switching sides. “Chanyeol,” you whine, nails digging crescents into his arms when the sparks tingling up and down your spine seek for more. The sound of your voice, so weak, so needy, has his dick twitching against the restraint of his boxers and he growls into your skin before pulling away.

“___,” he starts, voice gruff as his hands come on either side of you, laid flat against the cold marble to cage you in, “I’ve fantasized about this moment for years, and I have to say I never once imagined it would be at our Christmas party.”

He pauses, gently taking your hands in his and helping you off the sink before hurriedly turning around to lock the door. Your heart suddenly seems to be surging electricity through your veins rather than pumping blood. When he steps closer again, he unexpectantly spins you around, hands splayed across your stomach to keep you upright, forcing you to take in the reflection in the mirror.

“On vacation, I’ve imagined waiting until everyone’s left to fuck you in the sand,” he starts slowly. Your eyes almost roll back into your head at the sheer audacity of his words. “Or, at Seoyun’s twenty-first birthday party. You had no idea how badly I wanted to rip that dress off and fuck you against the bar in front of everyone to see.” By now, you are shaking, knees ready to buckle under the weight of his words and yet you cannot find it in yourself to look away from the pink swell of his lips and the words that slip past them.

“I thought you would have caught on this summer when you woke up with my cock digging into your ass,” Chanyeol hums, nuzzling into your neck, “all night I had to keep myself from stealing you away and making that your favorite vacation yet. So tempting, you are.”

You press your legs together and swallow past the dryness of your throat.

“You seem to have forgotten that I’ve been waiting for this since I was like, twelve,” you sigh, his intoxicating touch making it rather hard to breathe, “well, not this. But having you. Being able to love you and… you know. Call you mine.”

“You’ve always had me, though. Always been yours,” he returns quietly, endearingly, and presses a chaste kiss to your shoulder. At this, you take a moment to try and memorize what the mirror reflects: the heavy breathing you share, untamed hair and swollen lips, cheeks over-heated, his hands traveling softly up and down the expanse of your abdomen in an oddly unfitting but appreciated act of gentleness, skin damp with a light sheen of perspiration and the cute curls of his dark bangs contrasting harshly to the heaviness in his eyes.

Washed in a warm glow from the dim overhead lights, you almost look untouchable together.

“It hasn’t always seemed that way,” you say, bitter, for all these years have passed of you hopelessly in love with him, “where we really both that dumb to never see it?”

Chanyeol blinks, understanding, before his grip on your waist tightens and he exhales on your neck once again before, quietly, “Let me prove it?”

His hot whisper against the side of your neck only causes a stronger wave of arousal to suck you in and you’re suddenly weak in the knees, the coil in your core winching tighter. Answering his question with only a miniscule nod, you are hardly able to form a response by the time Chanyeol is tilting your head to face him and melding his mouth to your own once more before nudging you forward, pressing you into the edge of the sink. His hands are quick to tug his shirt over his head and he does not even grace you with enough time to worship his figure as he is already crouching down, reaching around your hips to untie the knot of your pajama bottoms and shimmy them down your legs. An utterly embarrassing whimper leaves your throat when Chanyeol’s fingers hook around the elastic of your panties, yanking them down in an unceremonious rush.

You almost miss the gorgeous that slips past his lips when he rises back to his full height to admire you, licking his lips and surveying you with such a lecherous glint to his eyes that you quite literally feel yourself become wetter. “You okay?” He asks, pressing his chest to your back and growing harder just from watching you stare dumbly back at him with your fucked-out expression and he’s barely even touched you yet, every atom of your being vibrating with need as his hand travels tauntingly slow toward your center.

“M’perfect,” you gasp as he draws a featherlight line up your slit with the pad of his finger, “just perfect.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Chanyeol purrs in your ear, arm tense as a wire as it balances holding you upright and parting open your folds. Oh God he’s going to be inside me you think just as his middle finger finishes toying at your entrance and finally presses in enough to easily slide in to the knuckle. Your hands scramble to grip the lip of the sink as a moan tears from your throat, a shiver wracking your figure when he effortlessly adds a second finger to add to the delicious stretch.

“You are,” you rasp, squeezing your eyes shut when he takes care to draw a rough circle to your clit, “such an asshole.”

“How so?” Chanyeol chuckles darkly in your ear as you greedily roll into his hand to meet his thrusts and suddenly his shoulders are trembling. His control is chipping away at a much faster rate than he had hoped.

“You’ve kept me waiting—fuck,” you hiss when he dares to dig deeper, “all this time.”

His pace is absolutely agonizing, swirling his fingers as he pulls them out, massaging your clit for only a heartbeat before pressing back inside of you again. “How do you think I feel?” He growls back, ignoring how you whimper and writhe under him as he finally pulls out of you to ruthlessly flick at the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Chanyeol,” you sob quietly, arms trembling violently and knuckles white as you grasp the sink impossibly harder, “ngh, Chanyeol, please.”

“You look so pretty like this,” he sighs, other hand coming up to stroke strands of hair away from your face, “I bet you’d look even prettier with my cock stuffed in you.”

“Fuck, fuck,” you whine, clenching around nothing as the tight coil begins to unravel and you manage to choke out, “if, fuck, if you want that to happen you have—you have to stop.”

“Mm,” Chanyeol contemplates, obsessed with the idea of making you cum like this but also dying to bury himself within your velvet walls, “alright.” Not that he wouldn’t pay up to do both.

Next time.

With the muscles in his arm beginning to grow tired, he finally relents after a particularly brutal flick that leaves your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Without the sticky press of his body against yours and the relief of his fingers off of your cunt, you are left to shiver again, sucking on your bottom lip viciously to try and recover from the earth-shattering pleasure that still smolders like a forest fire in your core and ignites your nerves. You turn slightly to focus your gaze on Chanyeol as he stares, breathless, at the floor, chest erratically rising and falling and hand glistening as a result of your arousal. Finally, you can appreciate his figure in a different light, mesmerized by every curve and indent of muscle glistening with sweat. It is during this moment of adoration that you decide that Chanyeol’s shoulders are your next favorite thing, second to his ears.

Well, maybe your third, you remind yourself when his length, arching impressively long and thick beneath his pajamas, catches your eye. Ignoring the fragility that has your bones rattling, you cannot help but reach out for him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pressing your bare chest to his, breathing out a relieved sigh against his skin. He shivers, and you realize he is just as shaken up as you are no matter how sturdy his hold feels once his arms curl around your waist.

“You said you’re in love with me?” He suddenly asks, voice vulnerable as if he fears you are going to take everything back and desert him. “For as long as I can remember,” you swear honestly, it really has always been him, and lean up to skim your lips along the sharp angle of his jaw. Chanyeol exhales shakily and curls his fingers into your sides when you reach the soft nook under his ear and suck at the skin, proud that you can reciprocate the same effect he has on you.

Laving your tongue over the bite once you are satisfied with the mark, you step back until you can sit on the edge of the marble countertop, heart racing a mile a minute as he loosens the tie of his bottoms just enough so he can drop them to his ankles. “Cute,” you pipe, regarding his Santa-spotted boxers and ignoring the rush of heat to your already drenched core. Grinning at your comment, Chanyeol ultimately shuts you up when he tugs down his last article of clothing, his now unclothed length red and angry when it slaps against his stomach.

“Wow,” you say without remorse, staring only a second more before dragging your gaze up to his eyes, “I knew you had an award-winning dick!”

“You can’t just say that kind of stuff,” Chanyeol chuckles, guiding you to stand before turning you to face the mirror. Then, in a tone lower than you have ever known it, “Are you still on the pill?”

Impressed with how he happened to remember such a minute detail about your life, you offer a tiny nod, suddenly feeling flushed and dizzy all over again because how is this real?

“Thank God,” he says, leaning over your shoulder to kiss you and once more you cannot think or breathe with all the love and adoration loaded into one kiss. After pulling away and pressing a firm hand on your back to further bend you over, Chanyeol groans at the sight of your breasts swaying so enticingly at this angle, but redirects his attention to taking hold of his cock and dragging it along your slick center, coating it in your juices and his precum. You nearly jump at the contact, a shock of electricity darting up your spine at the realization that this is really, truly happening.

You have only just registered him carefully positioning himself to your entrance by the time Chanyeol is rolling his hips forward, slowly dragging against your velvet walls and filling you to the brim. “Oh my God,” you breathe, followed by a series of moans that tumble past your parted lips.

“Fuck me,” Chanyeol groans past gritted teeth, thrusting into you at a slow pace with you clenching so tightly around him. “I am,” you simper, dragging your eyes up from the floor to see his disappointed eye roll as your core slowly but surely loosens around him. “Still rude, even with my dick in you.”

You are keenly aware of Chanyeol leisurely drawing his cock almost completely out of you, nestling just barely within your entrance before slamming back in to draw a high-pitched cry past your open mouth. “Baby, you have to be quiet,” Chanyeol rumbles from above you, voice like thunder in the small bathroom as the powerful, rough tilts and thrusts of his hips ease slower but harder.

The fire in your stomach that had begun to simmer down after his fingers had left you only minutes before suddenly consumes you whole, pleasure washing over you hotly with each thrust of his cock past your slick walls. You’re a panting, mewling mess in no time, euphoria fizzling in your abdomen and shooting up your spine when the hand that is not anchoring you in place dips to brush against your throbbing clit.

“Look at me, baby,” Chanyeol shudders, fucking into you relentlessly, “please look at me when you cum.”

With your fingers growing numb as a result of your iron grip on the sink, you blink away the stars clouding your vision and focus on his face, strands of obsidian hair damp with beads of sweat that trickle down his sideburns, cheeks flushed and glowing rosy, and his soft features struggling to hide the haze sitting over his mind of how incredible you feel as your walls start to tighten around him once more.

“___,” he moans, hands curling into the dips of your waist to rock your body in synch with his drives, “I hope you know I love you more.”

This is all you need to hurl you over the edge. The coil within your core winding tighter and tighter suddenly snaps at his words harmonizing with a particularly hard thrust against your g-spot. For a blissfully long moment, all you see is searing light freckling your vision, body trembling as your orgasm washes over you. Chanyeol moans sharply at the feel of you clenching so impossibly tight around him, throwing his head back and praying to memorize your loud cry.

Ensuring you ride out every second of your climax on his cock, Chanyeol sloppily thrusts into you, chasing after his own high at the sight of you so blissfully fucked-out in the mirror. He quickly follows, coming inside of you with a harsh shudder. Limbs growing weak with pleasure coursing hotly through your veins, you remain in your bent position, eyes widened in adoration as you watch him give one last feeble thrust into your raw cunt to finish out his high.

Then, he draws out of your walls, trails of his pearly cum seeping out with it, and a rush of air escapes your lungs. The moments that follow are peaceful, quiet to catch your breath and not once do you worry that any of what just occurred was a mistake.

When you finally heave one last breath and open your eyes, you spin around to Chanyeol, who leans utterly exhausted against the wall. “Hey,” he smiles innocently when he looks up, all the lust that had darkened his features completely draining away. In its place is his usual soft goofiness. “Hi,” you reply, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist.

There is no roughness in this kiss. Instead, it’s deep and longing and reassuring in that this was not a one-time thing.

“If this doesn’t make you my boyfriend, I think I’ll have to end my friendship with Seoyun,” you breathe against his lips before reclining back to meet his eyes. He chuckles, hand dropping to pinch your ass and you yelp, jerking closer to him and away from his hand as he retorts, “This better make me your boyfriend. I don’t know what else I’d have to if it didn’t. I’m all out of ideas.”

“Yah,” you grumble, planting your hands against his chest to push yourself off of him, “or, you could’ve just flat out confessed.”

Chanyeol raises a brow, watching as you clasp your bra back on, “Hey, I’m not the only one who goes without blame. You could have said something sooner, too.”

“Yeah, whatever. We’re both dumb,” you grumble, sitting down to pee while simultaneously pulling your sweater back over your head. You watch on, calmly, naturally, as he dresses himself back to his regular clothes before standing to do the same.

“I don’t want to go back out,” Chanyeol whines, bumping his hip to yours to make room so he can wash his hands with you, “I wanna stay here with you.”

“In the women’s bathroom? Really?” You laugh disbelievingly, running your hands through your hair to somehow not only tame it, but lay it so it covers the love bites higher up on your throat. Groaning at your dumb sense of humor, Chanyeol waits for you to zip up your boots, not even bothering to explain what he meant, before gathering your pajamas with his and cracking open the door to check if the coast is clear.

“Good?” You whisper, clinging to his back. When he nods, you head out into the hallway together, clinging to his side like a koala and barely blinking an eye when his fingers intertwine with yours, his hand snugly enveloping your own. With a different wave of warmth blooming in your chest and up to your cheeks, you yank Chanyeol to the wall just before the corner, smothering his lips with yours and curling his sweater in your fists.

“Are we telling them… or just winging it?” You whisper, drawing back when his tongue threatens to slip past the seam of your lips. Too soon to get lost in his taste again, no matter how sweet he tastes against your lips.

There would be plenty of time for that later, anyway.

“Act natural now, but,” he murmurs, staring down at you with so much marvel weighted in his gaze you feel as if you may implode, “maybe by the end of this damn thing they’ll know.”

“Okay,” you agree, leaning up to peck his top lip one more time before continuing on through the empty kitchen and into the main room, ignoring the faint thrumming coming from your groin. Navigating through the dwindling crowd, you first make a pit stop to grab your cell phone where you left it on a coffee table before seeking out a spot on the sofa. Not even two seconds after sitting down, it dings with notifications.

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I can’t believe I can kiss you whenever I want now

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I miss you already

[9:04 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: even though I can see you rn

Your head snaps up, dying to find him and unable to hide your smile. Once you find him across the room, looking unfairly delicious for someone who just had their dick inside you, he winks. You grin, looking back down when your phone buzzes again.

[9:05 PM] yeol (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧: I want everyone to know ur my wifeyyyy

[9:05 PM] YN: yeol its been like

[9:05 PM] YN: a minute

[9:05 PM] YN: and slow down there, tiger. i need the ring first

[9:05 PM] YN: but don’t worry. they’ll know soon:’)

“___!” Shouts a familiar voice and you jump, scrambling to shut off your phone before searching over the cluster of guests until you find Seoyun waving near the piano. You make your way over, grabbing a bowl of potato chips on the way.

“Hey, where have you been? Took you an awfully long time to change,” she asks as soon as you are close enough, suspicious, “you missed Pollyanna.”

“Sorry, I, uh…” you trail off, frantic, mind drawing a blank as you try to think of a reasonable excuse, “had to—”

“She was with me,” a gruff voice cuts in, thick with smugness as his hand slaps onto your shoulder. Face draining of color you side glance to Chanyeol who stands closely behind you, his other hand sliding to hook his fingers into the belt loops of your jeans. When you dare to slowly look back to Seoyun, her gaze follows the path of his hand, processing, before focusing back on your face with raised brows. Then, “What are these?” She gasps, reaching to pull the collar of your sweater down, exposing a splotch of purple blossoming across your skin.

“Ay!” You grumble, smacking her hand away and jerking closer to Chanyeol. “You guys… seriously?” Seoyun grumbles disappointedly, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers. You tilt your head up to Chanyeol for help, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he gives a lopsided grin.

“It took you guys this fucking long just to fuckin a bathroom at our Christmas party?” She hisses, planting her hands on her hips as she bellows out a disbelieving laugh.

“We’re dating,” Chanyeol announces loudly once she has stopped snickering to herself like a lunatic. So loud, in fact, that a few heads close enough spin to see just who is dating who.

You suddenly wish the floor would swallow you up.

Seoyun nearly chokes. “Well, then,” she coughs, rocking on her heels, “shove a quarter up my ass because I just played myself.”

Her face softens when she watches Chanyeol securely wrap his arms around you from his spot behind you. She sighs. “I knew it was going to happen soon. You guys have been all over each other this past year. I’m pretty sure half the family has been waiting for this,” Seoyun beams, eyes twinkling joyously, “except you didn’t get a shot of getting one of Julia’s Italian cookbooks as a gift.”

“Fuck, man. I really wanted to add another to my collection,” Chanyeol fake whimpers and you laugh with Seoyun. “What’d you get?” You ask her, pouting in disappointment when Chanyeol unwinds his arms to stand next to you.

“Don’t be jealous, but,” she pauses, digging into her pocket before pulling out an Amazon gift card, “I actually got the best gift, to be honest. All the other shit was dumb knickknacks. Key chains and shit.”

“Seoyun!” Someone calls from behind you before you can express your envy. She grits her teeth.

“I’ll talk to you lovebirds in a bit. Mom needs me,” she sighs, giving your hand a squeeze as she moves past you.

Only a heartbeat later Chanyeol is stepping in front of you. “Sorry you missed out getting a gift,” he frowns, dropping his hands to hold yours but pauses when he realizes you are still holding the basket of potato chips, “I hope you’ll still have a merry Christmas.”

You laugh, brows drawing together when he seizes the basket out of your hands to place on top of the piano albeit the please keep things off piano sign. “Seriously? Nobody could ruin this Christmas even if they tried.”

When Chanyeol leans in close, resting his forehead against yours and sharing your breath, your fingers run down his spine to pull him close. The world falls always when he kisses you again, soft and slow and comforting in ways that words would never be. With his hand resting just below your ear, thumb caressing your cheek, you cannot help but smile against his lips when you feel the beating of his heart against your chest.

“Love you,” Chanyeol whispers.

Screw Pollyanna. In the end, you got the greatest gift of them all.

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darkhymns-fic · 4 years

Text

When the Wind Shakes Us

There is not much of himself that Kratos wants to tell – for none of it is worth telling. But a brief reveal of his wings had been enough to lay himself bare to her.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters/Pairing: Kratos Aurion/Anna Irving Rating: PG Mirror Link: AO3 Notes: This is late! Written for @krannaweek Day 3: Free, and maybe Day 2: Angst? I guess both. This got away from me a bit. The general idea for this story came from this fic originally, and thought Kranna would fit it well!

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Kratos had gone to painstaking measures to keep much of himself hidden from Anna. She had known he was of Cruxis, even as she was confused as to why a human would join. But his age, his history, his own list of past grievances - these were things he would keep buried under lock and key until his life would finally end under violence (for surely there was no other way).

But he had not meant for her to see his wings.

When they had been ambushed on the roads, it had not been the typical Desians he had come to expect. Instead, angels with dark eyes and darker countenances came swooping down from the skies, their descent accompanied by wings that beat harshly in the air, like ravenous birds of prey. He had not realized Mithos would already be sending the worst after them.

Anna had fought some of them off with the help of a sword she had lifted off one of the Desians they felled earlier, but it had not been enough. She had been far across the field, the fight taking her away from him without his knowledge.

Kratos had grown desperate.

“Anna!” he shouted, using her name as if it were the only thing that mattered to him. And there were so many years of nothing mattering until he saw her in the cellblock, the Exsphere buried deep below her collarbone, taking away her time little by little.

His wings manifested from his back on instinct, flying across the ground to cut an angel down with an expert stroke. Another rushed near his right and he parried away their attempt to slice off his head. A rush of adrenaline he had not felt since the night of Martel's death, trying to find a ray of hope to everything before seeing Mithos' look of despair and feeling his promises break in half.

Anna was watching him with wide eyes, once quiet settled over them both, bodies and feathers decorating the forest floor. The night wind cut through his clothes with a chill, lifted Anna's burnished brown hair. It made the blue light from his wings waver, carrying motes of light around them, like the strangest of fireflies.

"Anna, I-"

"You're hurt," she said to him swiftly, her voice quiet, eyes finally leaving his wings to land on his forearm. Only then did he notice the cut, made by an angel's spear. The material was torn, leaving a red streak that he could not feel, did not wish to feel.

"I will be fine," he stated, sheathing his sword and ready to cast first aid on himself. But she raised her hand, and something in her finality made him halt in mid-motion.

"Not here," she said, eyes darting behind them, into a copse of trees. "Just, not here."

Kratos had been the one to lead them for most of their journey, but now he followed behind Anna's back, confused, a bit unsettled. His wings finally dissipated, and he couldn't help but notice the way her eyes seemed to shine for a brief moment then, until it blended with the night.

A long walk, longer than anticipated, but eventually she stopped them near a hillside, the night sky turning into an impenetrable black, studded with stars. But so much less than before, he thought, the bitterness still running through him. When he had counted them, he felt he had left a part of himself within each and every star, until he was left hollow. But meeting Anna made him question if that was the case.

From their gathered supplies, Anna took out bandages, then gestured Kratos to sit down. He blinked at the suggestion.

"There is no need. I can simply use my healing artes-"

"Kratos, I don't ask for much," she said, once again interrupting him. "Now sit and let me help you."

Words built up in his throat, which he wisely pushed down with a swallow. Adjusting his scabbard, he sat on the ground before her.

He felt a pressure on his forearm, and only then adjusted to allow his nerves to feel again. A dull ache stemmed from that wound, followed by the touch of Anna's fingers before they would lift to wrap the bandage over his arm.

"...I did not know that you were a healer yourself," he found himself saying.

She scoffed. "Only for my little sisters when they would scrape a knee. Had to learn a lot for them. And-" A pause, one filled with pain. "And I guess it was good I learned anyway. The Desians would leave many prisoners injured at the ranch."

Words of comfort would always elude Kratos. 4000 years hadn't changed that. Yet still, he tried. "I am sorry."

She did not respond to that, continuing to tie up the bandage, to mop away the blood that had dripped down his arm and into the ground. Kratos was busy silently berating himself before she spoke again.

"May I see them?"

His heart stilled, his mind halted. The wind continued to rush through him. "I know they are not normal," he said, knowing what she meant. "It...is best that I don't."

Something tightened around his arm, pain immediately flaring up. "Gh!"

"Sorry," Anna said, fidgeting slightly. "I am just… just a bit frustrated."

He looked to her then. She was still holding onto him, eyes toward the small pool of blood on the ground.

"I just don't understand why you won't share anything with me."

Kratos looked down as well, his chest feeling tight.

"There is...so much that you do not tell me. I feel as if I am walking around with a shadow sometimes. A shadow who makes terrible coffee…"

"I thought I had been improving," he had to argue.

He saw the hint of a smile on her lips. "Maybe just a bit." She winked. "Could be better though."

But even her brief humor was not enough to stem the awkwardness, the unspoken feelings between them. Both on the edge on finally admitting something, anything, before retreating into the darkness that was familiar, if not comforting.

Kratos knew he was not helping matters.

“There is not much of me that is worthy to know,” he finally said, his voice low, the difficulty in speaking it much more than he expected. “My misdeeds have already been done. You do not need to share in my burdens-”

“That is not what I am asking you.”

Her voice was sharp, cutting through his melancholic rambles. The force of her tone was enough to pull his gaze back to her.

“I am asking you, - you, Kratos Aurion – to tell me who you are. I am not looking to correct anything, I am not even looking to help you. I am only wanting something simple. To know you.” A sigh. “Because how can I give my trust when one keeps so much from me?"

She took a shuddering breath. "Months I've been locked away. It hurt to simply breathe with this thing inside me. Then suddenly you show up, and… and I don't understand why still. I cannot understand you. I cannot understand what you see in me, out of everyone at the ranch."

Kratos felt her hands linger on his forearm, finally allowing himself to feel. It had been so long since he felt a touch such as this, so long.

"At least let me see you," she whispered. "Please show them to me."

In the world of Sylvarant, there were legends of angels, perfectly twisted to reflect Mithos' vision. The angels of Cruxis, messengers of the goddess Martel, represented salvation. Kratos worried. Is that how Anna was seeing him? Would he only keep perpetuating this lie as he always had for so many millennia?

Her hand was placed against his back, waiting. But her eyes were sharp. She had seen the wings, but it didn't mean she was blinded by their light.

“…I am not used to this much attention on them.” Kratos cleared his throat. “So, forgive me if I don’t summon them right away.”

Anna smirked. “I will not judge.”

Even with her dry humor, with her warm hands, Kratos hesitated. Soon, a thin line of azure, extending into fragments and curves, patterns within a night sky. The gleam of the Exsphere buried in her skin shone for a moment, catching the light of his wings before she adjusted her cloak around her neck.

She stared at him, at the wings from his back, a slipstream of mana that he could feel the wind rush against. It made him shiver a bit more. It was more vulnerable than he had imagined, for wasn’t this just another symbol of who he was? Betrayer, coward, jailer, weakling. The wings of the other angels from before were different, but they had once had wings like his own before they crystallized into something solid, pulling at their back, forever aching and writing inside them as tendons pulled and bones cracked. But it does not bother them for they cannot feel. He frowned, looking away.

Then Anna touched his right wing, fingers rushing right through it as easily as the wind.

He shivered. His breathing quickened. He widened his eyes.

Her hand pulled back. "I-I’m sorry. Did that… hurt you too?" For the first time since the ranch, Anna looked frightened. She was about to stand up. “This was stupid of me. I didn’t mean-”

He did not reach to grab her, even though he wished to. He had enough sense to hold out his hand to her, calming her down before she could go.

"No.." he said, his voice in awe. “Please stay.”

He had never felt like this, even when he had once been a mere human, fighting for what had once seemed so simple. To stop a war. To stop the constant suffering. It had all been so simple, but everything just kept going wrong, more wrong than he could imagine. Martel’s kindness met with betrayal, Mithos’ belief in others shattering before his eyes, Yuan’s cynicism only being repaid in the worst way imaginable. For years, Kratos had only known this, unable to even remember a time when things were different.

Her hand on his wings reminded him, transcended him.

His hand was hovering just over her lap. "I… I should not ask you this...but…"

Kratos was a coward. This he knew intimately. But Anna read the request in his trailed off sentence. Could he be touched like this again?

With that, she moved closer, face nearer his, and rushed her hands over his wings again.

Her fingers brushed against the fine edge of the wingtip and Kratos felt something then. More than something. Of so many years locked inside his own prison, and her hands setting him free.

He was vulnerable, he was laid bare. It felt like a weight had left his back, leaving only Anna with him.

Anna, he thought, and could not stop his weakness. An arm reached out to embrace her around the waist, pulling her to him. All the while, her hand traced over his wings, feeling the contours, the pulse of his mana, the depth of his guilt.

He had lived for so very long. So, so long. But only tonight had he ever felt truly alive.

#krannaweek2019 #tales of symphonia #kratos aurion #anna irving #kranna #fanfiction #one shot #lesson learned to never post from mobile because all it does is mess up the formatting :///

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starry-sky-1 · 5 years

Text

Jungkook's little adventure

Spinoff of this lovely series by @lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr who let me do this!!!! Lotso love to her and kookie who I couldn't resist writing uwu.

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“JK, JK wake up” Seokjin sighed as he shook the human bundle of blankets for the umpteenth time. The little Hatsune Miku figurine alarm clock on the bedside table chimed a dainty 8:30 am as the bundle in question groaned and shriveled into a tighter ball.

Seokjin stood, arms akimbo, and pursed his lips. “Yah! Jungkook-ah you have to wake up or did you forget its your turn to bring the groceries today? Its your free day so I understand you were up playing Overwatch till 3 am but breakfast is getting cold. I made hash browns with eggs benedict and that bread you’re fond of.We even have Banana Milk.”

Hearing about banana milk, the bundle rumbled and sat up, a head popping out of its recesses like a bunny, puffy doe eyes that were closed, revealed a mop of fluffy hair, sticking up in all directions as Jungkook let out a cute yawn before rolling on the other side and getting up, stubbing his toe in the process.

The shock of pain, made him wince and his eyes flew open, clutching the now sensitive toe in his hand.

“Ow, Ow, OW”

The elder had an amused smile on his face as he watched the entire scene unfold.

“Sometimes I wonder how you’re related to me Jungkook-ah, a graceful, beautiful human like me, sculpted by the finest, who ladies die over, and then there’s you.”

“Way to boost my confidence, hyung” He muttered and grasped his spectacles, promptly putting them on. “I’ll meet you down in 15 minutes.”

Seokjin nodded and moved to the door, kicking a one piece themed sweatpants pair that was lying on the floor for god knows how long and shut the door behind him.

Jungkook stretched, cracking his bones and made his way over to the ensuite bathroom, both brothers had their rooms connected , in a small apartment unit above the bar.

He made his way down to see Seokjin on a call, recently they had been getting quite a number of assignments. The aloof bartender was a former secret service agent and one of the finest in the nation. He knew and dealt with secrets, disillusioned by bureaucracy and corruption, leaving after finishing one of the most difficult assignments ever with him as the only survivor.

“Yes Yoongi I’ll be more than happy to babysit the squirt as you and Hoseok plummet yourself into another dangerous mission, I mean wasn’t Mist enough for you?”

Ahh Mist, that brought back some memories, quite the adventure.

Jungkook scarfed the meal on the table, marvelling at his hyung’s cooking, the meals he cooked could make him a celebrity chef and yet here he was, dealing with dangerous stuff.

“To each his own I guess” he muttered and rinsed his plate, putting it in the right place before moving to the coatstand, his trusty hooded jacket would be perfect for the crisp nip in the air. He shuffled his shoes on and went down, deciding to explore the city a bit before he would fetch groceries and then munch on snacks as he played Overwatch again, he had a score to settle with NoobMaster96.

Patting his pockets, he checked his phone, keys and wallet before making his way downtown. October would be here soon and the parks would be full of leaves in various shades of reds, oranges.He loved those.

The public park was near the older market with a lot of old shops who sold stuff the traditional way, he found the square market to be too boisterous, the stores too fancy with their automatic doors, self checkouts, the crowd too predictable. He would rather source his seaweed chips and ramyun packets from the old lady who would almost always mistake him for her grandson and give him a mangatteok whenever he dropped by.

Speaking of ramyun, he was running low on his nutrition source with cans of energy drink, that’s how he survived those gruesome matches and lived to tell the tale.

He was just rounding the corner near the store, when a police car caught his attention, the small group of people gathering near it obstructed his view from what was happening. He slipped his hood on and slipped into the gathering with practiced ease and noticed his old lady angrily ranting off to two policemen who he knew very well.

Jimin had on a strained smile as he tried to ease the temper of the lady while Taehyung stood flabbergasted, asking questions to an old man who answered them. He turned on his heel and looked at the crowd when his eyes landed at an all too familiar face. Jungkook ducked, having been caught by Tae who flashed him his signature boxy grin and walked towards him, swiftly pulling him out causing Jungkook to squawk.

“Well, well, well if it isn’t my favourite Dongsaeng” he said.

“I’m the only dongsaeng you know from school, hyung” Jungkook pouted as Tae ruffled his hair, causing his cowlick to stand once again which he had spent a lot of time setting.

Jimin noticed Jungkook and pinched his cheek, smiling his infamous eye smile “Still as grumpy as ever.”

“And you’re still as short as ever.”

Jimin’s smile dropped while Tae guffawed and slapped him on the back. Jimin kicked Tae’s shin and then smacked Jungkook’s neck causing the younger to cry out in indignance.

“Yah! Is this how you talk to your hyung after everything we’ve done for you, brat?”

Jungkook gave him a mischievous smirk and rolled his shoulders.

The crowd had begun to disperse and it was then he turned to look at his allies slash friends and asked them what was with the crowd?

Tae looked at him and sighed, “Recently there have been a lot of petty theft incidents here by individuals dressed in all black with helmets or masks and riding gloves. They snatch handbags, briefcases, anything that they can land their hands on. Moreover we can’t ID them as they have blurred their motorcycle number plates and move on a very common design, the physical build is also more or less the same so we can’t say if it’s a single person or a group.”

Suddenly his eyes shone and his grin came back, Jungkook knew that look all too well.

“No Hyung, I am not helping you in this case again, I have to defeat NoobMaster96” He whined.

“Consider it payment for helping your eccentric psychopath friend and his cute ward. Oho she’s too adorable for her own good.”

Jimin added “The coverup alone took us so much time, we hardly slept for a month and it almost cost us our current titles. I NEVER want to work on the desk again” He said with a shudder.

Jungkook nibbled on his lower lip, On one hand he knew he was obligated to help Hoseok hyung and Yana, who he considered his own little sister, on the other hand he still had to game…….

“Fineeeeee” he replied, huffing.

“I knew if there was anyone who could help us, it would be our dear little Kookie” Tae chimed and Jimin smiled as well, highfiving his partner.

“But I need the details you have, the police files and access to the traffic security cameras”

“Consider it done”

“And I want 5 packets of chili ramyeon and nori chips as thanks”

“Whaaaa”

“Don’t question him, Jimin, and done.”

Jungkook moved to their car and Tae fetched a brown paper bag with the words confidential written on it.

“Now lets move to someplace less public and discuss with fewer ears” Jimin suggested and both nodded and followed him to a cafe owned by an ex policeman.

The little bell chimed as they entered and the owner flashed the 2 detectives a toothy smile as he continued to wipe a mug in his hand. They moved to the little private cabin which he held for “special” customers and took a seat. Jimin and Tae knew it was soundproof on the inside meaning no noise from the cabin would go out but they could hear everything on the outside clearly.

Jungkook spread the files on the table and quickly went over them, clicking a few pictures of evidence on his phone, whose camera he had upgraded to give better resolutions. Taking pictures of the suspects from the traffic cameras, he placed them back into the folder.

“I’ve sent you a link that would help you get into the mainframe. I hope you know the drill. Do NOT leave any evidence of your presence, you know SPD’s IT team is getting better at tracking illegal hacking or data hostage attempts.”

The younger only rolled his eyes when there was a knock on the door. Jimin tapped in confirmation and the owner came in, placing two cups of cappucinos for the boys and a hot chocolate for him, closing the door on his way out.

They discussed more details as they took their respective drinks and Tae told him he’d told the owner to bring hot chocolate for him since he knew that Jungkook couldn’t stand the strong taste at all.

Jungkook remembered he had to get groceries and once finished, Tae and Jimin helped him fetch stuff from the aisles at the next door mart and told him they’d drop him off before going back to the station to “work”. He whined when they did not get his snacks telling him that would be his reward if he could give them the missing link to the case and close it.

Clutching the full bags, Jungkook managed to balance them as he slid his key in and went inside. The lights were off which meant Seokjin was out and should be back soon to prepare for opening the bar.

He deposited them on the kitchen counter, placing the perishables in the fridge and moved to his room, opening his laptop as he decided to copy the data from his phone. Maybe Namjoon hyung could give him an insight on this? Ahh no he’s busy so he mustn’t be bothered.

Jin returned and noticed that Jungkook was home a little earlier than usual. The boy would never drop in before 8 pm, just in time for dinner on his days off. So it was surprising to see him back so soon.

He knocked on his door “JK, did you have lunch?” the boy didn’t respond. Jin knocked louder this time. Jungkook fumbled with his headphones and peeped from the door.

“Yes?”

“I asked if you had eaten lunch yet?”

“I had a cup of hot chocolate”

“Yah! That doesn’t count as lunch! I’m making fried rice, come down in 10, irrespective of what you’re working on” Jin said, motioning to the laptop and the wires attached to his phone.

Jungkook swiftly nodded and closed the door, resuming the transfer of data as he waited. He checked his phone for messages, finding none. Of course who would message him, he smiled ruefully before checking progress of the tapes downloading in his system.

As soon as there was a single minute left to 3:10 pm, he went down in the kitchen, just in time to see Jin plating 2 servings, his being smaller than what he had poured for the younger one.

The smell was heavenly and before he knew it, the plate was wiped clean. Jungkook rose to put them in the washer but Jin shook his head.

“You have homework, right kiddo? Don’t worry hyung will handle it”

Jungkook smiled at him brightly before running upstairs, almost tripping on his feet before he plopped himself on his table again, working on a short code that would narrow his search to the bikes of the model, the perpetrators used. It would limit his view time to 5 hours. Something he was sure he could manage. He carefully scanned the now shortened footage and noticed that the perpetrators would always, exclusively be downtown. It was as if they knew their chances of escaping were better there. He also noticed how they seemed to know where to go, irrespective of whether they were on foot or bike. The alleys where the cameras could not record their further movement. Also not a sliver of skin was exposed so nothing could be said about their build, complexion or looks, even gender. All the footage looked the same.

He ran his fingers through his hair, pushing his glasses up, there was no clue, how could he help Jimin and Tae, when suddenly one of the bikes went too close to the pole. Jungkook narrowed his eyes and played the footage again. On the back of the bike was an imperceptible symbol, which he enlarged and screenshot.

One thing that he understood was that the perpetrator(s) had a good idea of the alleys, secondly they knew how to conceal their identity well so it would be physically impossible to identify them, thirdly they chose their victims randomly and finally another bike had yellow paint on its tires, from the footage of a day ago, the one with the old woman whose bag was stolen.

Jungkook knew that there was renovation going on in the eastern part which meant that atleast one of them had entered via Incheon.

He zoomed the footage as he spotted a man push the woman and snatched her bag in broad daylight as he sped off, the old woman screaming at him, which caused the few shopkeepers around to come out. Jungkook noticed that this bike was devoid of the same symbol but had another one in the same design.

He searched them and discovered 2 numbers, in a snake font, 13 and 55.

Weird!

He quickly overlooked the dates of the events and discovered that the dates were in fact a sequence! Running them through the algorithm detector he found that they were Fibonacci numbers and the

snake fonts actually represented their positioning on the cartesian plane.

He had heard Hoseok talk about a gang in town, slowly acquiring power through meticulous attacks, they hadn’t done anything severe, but their attacks were random enough to confuse the police. To make matters worse nobody knew of their arrival or departure, they chose less populated areas to target and left no evidence behind.

Putting the dates in sequence, Jungkook knew when the next attack would take place, coincidentally it was a free day for him as well. It wouldn’t hurt to give a little tip off to the detectives.

The only problem was how to confirm his suspicions, what if he was wrong? He couldn’t afford to let down another of the residents at downtown or undermine what was at stake for Tae and Jimin. He knew the pattern of such gangs all too well, it would slowly evolve to bigger crimes including shootouts and murders once they’d amassed enough power and terrorised the locals. It was an ugly spiral in the Criminal Underworld.

It was almost 11 pm by the time he had finished. Shoot! Just on time his stomach rumbled as well. He hadn’t had anything since lunch. He padded downstairs, knowing Jin would be at the bar but he’d chew his head off the next day for ignoring dinner. There was a plate of samgyeopsal with rice and clear soup, left for him. Jungkook felt a rush of affection for his step brother rise in his heart, who took care of him more like a parent than a sibling, never once questioning when he was dumped at his door out of nowhere and readily gave him a roof to live in and made sure all his needs were fulfilled.

He sat and ate dinner in silence and cleaned the kitchen up before wiping the table. Jin rarely let him in the bar, being fiercely protective of the younger one, wanting him to live as normally as possible.

He shut the lights and formulated a plan in his head. Oh he couldn’t wait to see it all unfold.

The D day had Jungkook nervous as hell, Tae had bombarded him with questions all week about his progress but Jungkook said it was difficult with lack of data but nonetheless sent him the designs on the 2 bikes just to not rouse his suspicions too much. They had thankfully bought the little lie and were busy running for matches through their databases.

He waited at the eastern end on his bike which he had borrowed from Yoongi, the sleek model was very flexible for driving in narrower lanes or taking sharp turns. The only condition was that he had to hack into some company’s financial statements, an easy job.

Hiding in the alleyway, he waited until it was just a few people out on the streets. If his calculations were correct, there would be an incident any time now. His notice turned to one of the shops in his direct line of vision, A girl with curly hair, sunkissed skin exit the cafe where had been the last week.

She had long, pretty legs clad in a pair of skinfit jeans and a white blouse tied in a knot above the highwaist as she put her slingbag around her and moved. He spotted movement on the peripheral of his vision.

Bingo! There were 2 people on the bike this time, heading straight for the woman who now had her headphones on, moving to whatever beat it played. Jungkook revved his own and gave chase right as one of them broke the bag from its sling and ran, clutching it tightly.

She screamed and gave chase, but wasn’t as fast enough as the person. Jungkook knew he’d take the alley with limited access to the traffic camera and his friend would be there, taking a quick shortcut he locked the bike and hid in the thick shadows knowing the person would be there anytime soon, as his friend waited at the other end.

The person came in, huffing as the outfit proved too much for the weather. Jungkook pounced on them, taking them down in a tangle of limbs as he subdued them. Their partner long gone when they realised that the ally had been subdued. He took the helmet off to reveal a young man with a nasty scar across his eye.This wasn’t an injury, no it was a deliberate slash. Quickly he found some spare plastic ties near the dumpbox and tied the man down. He dragged him over to the main footpath and saw the girl jogging up to him.She was even prettier up close and he blushed a bit. He dialed Tae and said

“Hyung, I have a certain present for you, come down quick” as he gave him his coordinates.

Taehyung cursed and kicked the table as his partner raised an eyebrow in question.

“That damn brat” was all he said before nudging Jimin into the car, speeding off.

Jungkook dusted the bag and gave it to the girl who muttered a “thank you”. Heck even her accent was cute and her voice had a lilt to it.

Before he could say something, the siren indicated that they were here. He looked down at the bound man who was glaring daggers at him.

Jimin stepped out first looking at Jungkook and then the man. “why am I not surprised? Of course you would throw yourself in harm’s way with 0 afterthought, Seokjin would have our skins as doormats if anything happened to you,brat.”

Taehyung looked at the man, amused.

“Can’t believe a kid took you down and those are some good knots, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re into some hardcore Shibari shit, Jungkook-ah”

Jungkook only reddened in response as the girl smirked at him.

Taehyung then looked at her and asked if they could ask her a few questions, she was free to go then. She nodded in assent and answered them, truthfully as Jungkook watched in rapt attention.

Jimin noticed and winked at him, wiggling his eyebrows, making Jungkook squeak and turn his head.

The detectives, satisfied thanked Jungkook after taking his statement as well.

“We’ll get all from him, but kiddo, next time you pull a stunt like this, do give us a call before jumping blindly, what if the other man was armed? and do mail us all the evidence you found, your ramyun and chips will be at your door by evening”

He smiled and waved them off before realising the girl was still there.

“So how does coffee sound?”

“Truthfully, Yakult is better than coffee, coffee is too strong for my nose” he replied, tapping his nose and shrugging. He looked at his watch.

“Oh dang I’m late for lunch again, hyung’s going to break my legs but I don’t need to buy snacks now so yess” he mumbled to himself.

The girl shook her head in amusement.

“I-I gotta run, have a nice day.Be safe” he bowed to her before taking off, picking his bike up and speeding his way over to home. Oh he was so dead today!

OMAKE

“You mean she asked me out on a date and I messed it up?” Jungkook groaned as Seokjin burst into laughter at his obliviousness.

Maybe he could spot her next time he was in downtown? It wouldn’t hurt to have her number. He flopped on the bed groaning and cursing. Atleast his Miku chan was still by his bedside to cheer him.

The End!

#btsau #bts friendship #bts fluff #bts fic #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts jin #bts taehyung #bts jungkook #hackerkook #fluff #jungkook is a baby #uwu

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cameronspecial · 6 years

Text

Sent From A Goddess (Ch.2)

Pairing: Demigod! Tom Holland x Demigod! Reader

Summary: (Y/N) (Y/L/N) is the daughter of Poisedon, and for twelve years she was all alone. Growing up at camp without any family and watching people she is closed to come in and out of her life has caused her to close up. So she made a rule, the only people she is allowed to be truly close to is her brother, his family, Chiron, Tyson, Annabeth, and Grover. When Tom in his brothers come around, will he be able to break that rule?

Word Count: 2 005

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Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 |

Tom and his brothers had been at Camp Half-Blood for a week now and it was safe to say that they were enjoying themselves. Tom was relatively good when it came to sword fighting, however, he was not the greatest at archery which was ironic because he was the son of Apollo. During the whole week, they have been here, Tom has not once heard her laugh or seen her smile. What happened to her for her to be like this? He wants to see her happy and he wants to help her. He nor any of his brothers could get her to laugh or talk about herself, and that made him even more curious.

(Y/N) sat on the beach with her sketchbook and pencil in hand. Everyone else was training, so all she could hear were the soothing waves and the distant sound of swords clashing together. She mindlessly sketches what was on her mind like usual and this time it was one of her many imaginations of what her mom looked like. Throughout her many sketchbooks pictures of what she thought her mom looks like are scattered all throughout them. She had done everything she can to find her mother, but she never found anything in her 16 years of life. She wants to know who she is other than the daughter of Poseidon. “Why won’t you tell me who she is?” she whispers to no one in particular. Percy stood on the path that leads down to the beach watching at his little sister. Even though they were born the same day in the same year, he always saw her as his baby sister because he was twelve years later. He didn’t like to see his sister likes this and the fact that anything he does doesn’t help makes it worse. He walks towards (Y/N) to keep her company.

She sensed her brother coming near her and closes her sketchbook. “How did you imagine her this time?” he asks softly. He sits down next to her and wraps his arm around her shoulder. She opens up the sketchbook to show her brother. He smiles at the drawing of the beautiful woman that looks like (Y/N). “I decide to make her look more like me this time,” she tells him. “Well, like all of your drawing it looks amazing,” he praises. All she can do is nod and close the sketchbook again. Percy sighs, “You know you can talk to me about anything right?” He knows that she has closed herself off ever since Luke died and it was killing him that he couldn’t make her feel better. She whispers I know before getting up and walking off. Percy sees that she left her sketchbook and takes a look at some of her drawings. They were all so sad. He felt like he could feel her grieving. Annabeth walks up to Percy and sits with him. “Did she blow you off again?” Annabeth questions. She knew how much this was hurting Percy because she felt the same way. She couldn’t help her best friend feel better and that bothered both of them. “I know how you feel. I tried talking to her this morning at breakfast and she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t tell me how she felt. Percy, she’s getting worse by the day and I am worried. Who knows how she is feeling or what she is thinking?” Annabeth worries. “I know, but I promise Wise Girl that I am doing everything I can to help her and I will continue too until she is better,” Percy vouched, Annabeth started crying and all he could do was bring her face into the crook of his neck.

(Y/N) watches in horror as Percy hands over the knife to Luke. She watches as the person she used to trust and still love plunges the knife into himself. She tries to run towards him to stop him, but Percy holds her back. Luke lies on the ground slowly bleeding out, but instead of dying as he did in real life, his body changes to look like Kronos. Everyone else disappears so that it’s just her and Kronos in the darkness. He stands up and walks towards her. She felt absolutely powerless. She couldn’t move her feet; she was frozen in fear. “You’re a nobody. You couldn’t save them and you won’t be able to save the rest. Not Percy, Not Annabeth, Not Grover,” Kronos continues to list the people she loved and the people that she has lost. Then it kept getting worse. Darian appears in front of Kronos. He begged and pleaded to be let free. Kronos just laughs and a sword appears in his hand. He raises it ready to plunge it into Darian’s heart and all she can do is scream and watch.

Before the sword plunges into his heart, (Y/N)’s eyes flutter open and her screams could be heard throughout the cabin. Percy is standing over her bed, shaking her awake. “You’re okay. You’re okay,” he promises as he holds her close to his chest. Once she calms down, she told Percy thank you and that he should head to bed. She makes sure he is asleep before putting her hair in a ponytail and putting her shoes on. She opens the door quietly and sneaks out. She passes the archery range as she makes her way to the climbing wall. She notices that a mop of brown hair was at the range where he was not supposed to be. She recognizes him as Thomas Holland, one of the newest campers, and decides to watch. She leans against the tree and observes. He draws back the string with the arrow and then let's go. The arrow doesn’t fly through the air as it would normally, the arrow drops to the floor which was funny because he is the son of Apollo. She doesn’t know what overcame her, but she starts giggling for the first time in months. Tom’s head snaps in the direction that he heard the giggling come from. He smiles when he sees that it was (Y/N); he finally gets to see that beautiful smile of hers.

She immediately stops when she sees that he was staring at her. “You know for a child of Apollo you are pretty shit with a bow and arrow,” she claims with her face turning back to its serious expression. Tom laughs and looks at her, “Yeah, well it’s not liked I asked to be his son and these things are harder then they look.” (Y/N) just shakes her head and taps her ring two times to change it into a bow and arrow. She walks up to the target, draws back the string with the arrow, and lets it go. It flies through the air and hits the bullseye of the target. She draws back another arrow and it splits the first arrow. She does the same thing two more times then looks at Tom with you were saying written on her face. “It’s not as hard as you think,” she brags with a wicked smile before turning the bow back into a ring. “Teach me,” he says in awe. He had never seen anyone that good, not even Will. (Y/N) just shakes her head as she walks away, “I am sorry, but I don’t teach anymore.” That was the first thing that she ever told him about herself and that made him hope. Hope that maybe he can get her to smile again.

She got to the rock wall when and gets ready to climb. “You’re really going to climb that thing in the middle of the night with no one around. Doesn’t seem very safe,” Tom comments as he watches her get closer to the wall. The girl scoffs and begins climbing the wall, “I have been climbing these walls ever since I was little, and I think I will be fine.” If Tom keeps this going, then he can finally learn more about her. “Well, I just want to make sure you are safe,” he admits out loud. He wouldn’t tell anyone just yet, but he may have developed a tiny crush on the mysterious girl. “I don’t need you to protect me. I am pretty sure you're supposed to be in your cabin, so why don’t you go back,” she claims, by now she was half-way up the wall which amazed Tom. “Yeah, well maybe I’ll keep you some company and try the wall myself,” Tom announces as he starts climbing the wall. She looks down at him, she wouldn’t admit it, but she definitely felt a bit of concern towards him. “I don’t care what you do or about you.” Tom ignores her, knowing that it was not true, and continues to copies what she is doing.

(Y/N) was standing at the top of the climbing wall, watching Tom climb up towards her. He tried to remember what holds she used to get up, but his memory failed him and he wasn’t fast enough to get up. The lava started slowly pouring when he was so close to the top; what was worse was that his hand couldn’t hold on anymore and he let go. (Y/N) was quick to grab onto his wrists and pull him up beside her. “That’s why you use the rope and harness, you dimwit,” she scolds, she pressing the button to stop the lava and starting to descend the wall. “Umm, how am I supposed to get down?” he croaks. He did not think this through. (Y/N) shakes her head and belays the harness up to him. “Put that on!” she shouts to him. Tom nods his head and does as he is told. Once he gets it on, she starts bringing him down slowly. He had to admit that he was a little afraid, but he trusted her. “My knight in shining armour,” Tom gushes with his hands over his heart. “Shut it, Holland. Now, get back to your cabin before I call the harpies to eat you up,” she growls before she storms off to her cabin.

Percy’s head darts toward the sound of his sister coming through the door. He lets out a sigh of relief, “Thank the gods you are okay. You know I worry when you are not in bed. What happened to you? Your closes are burnt to a crisp.” (Y/N) mumbles that she is okay and continues to collect a change of clothes for her. She walks into the private bathroom Chiron built for her cabin. She turns on the faucet of the bathtub and watches the water drain into it. Once it was full, (Y/N) starts to strip off the burnt clothes and examines herself in the mirror. Through the mirror, she could see the scar that was approximately 15 cm. It started from the top of her right shoulder and goes in towards her shoulder blade. The incident may have happened 7 years ago, but the scar still remains as a reminder for what happened.

The young female sinks herself into the tub and watches the water swish around in the tub. The music plays in the background whilst she is deep in thought. Why did Tom insist on trying to get to know her? Why couldn’t he just leave her alone like everyone else? Whatever he is doing, she does not like it. He may be handsome and cause other girls heart to flutter, but he didn’t have that effect on her. If the children of Aphrodite could know what she was thinking, they would say that she was crazy. They would say that his good looks, muscles, and delightful singing voice is perfect boyfriend material. (Y/N) on the other hand, thought that his consistent trying to get to know her was quite annoying. Plus, she would need to know more about him if she were to ever fall head over heels for him, she would need to learn more about him first.

*Tell me what you thought about the chapter here*

Next Chapter Comes Out November the 2nd

SFAG Taglist: @tmrhollandkay @embrace-themagic @whereartthouwakanda @smexylemony @bookgirlunicorn@mysteriouslydelightfulwolf @thequeensardine @mildlybad @loxbbg @superheros-and-others @yellowcanarys @allofthebitters @3blue-dreams3 @oceantostars @leelee--thebaek @awkward-record @escapetheshackles @youtubehelpsmesurvive @spideypancakes @greenarrowhead @nuyapudding @deadass-fandoms @cutiepiemimi13 @lilahdinhh @kittycake574 @spiderrrling @hollymollymomsravioli @nightwingbunny @justanotherfangirl2015 @everything-s-comin-up-aces @wayfaring----stranger @crazyfreaker

Tumblr won’t let me tag you, sorry 😕

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x yn #demigod! tom holland #demigoddess! reader #demigod! tom #demigod! reader #demigod! tom holland x demigoddess! reader #demigod! tom holland x demigod! reader #camp half-blood #percy jackson #sent from a goddess

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vampiricalthorns · 6 years

Text

Piercings and Pastels pt 2

Yo, so it’s finally here! Just ... 17 months too late. This is a continuation of Piercings and Pastels one-shot that I posted ages ago. There will maybe be a part 3 to this if I can be bothered to write it. I really do spend a lot of time on creating content, and even though I don’t post original stuff as often as I probably should... anyway, there’s a link to my ko-fi in my blog description if you want to support my content.

“And therefore, the sum of this equation will be …”

Will sighed, looking down at the notes he had so nicely drawn in red and black. Math class had never been of his favourites, but he was well aware that it was a subject he wanted to be good at. He did care a lot about school, even if he happened to be punk as fuck and wasn’t hesitant to have slightly questionable style choices. Will knew that his sister Kayla wanted him to have the best shot at life possible, and that was why she kept criticising his clothing.

“Mr Solace, are you paying attention?”

Will looked up sheepishly. “What?”

“I asked you if you could be so nice to tell us the answer on the blackboard.” The teacher was glaring down on him, and Will could have a fair guess that he was not too happy with Will’s inattention.

Will looked at him, and then to the board. Realising he had not solved the equation, he caught Nico’s look and peeked into his notebook for the answer. “X is 8, and Y is 4.5.”

The teacher looked at him for a minute before nodding. “That’s correct Mr Solace, but please refrain from spacing out in my classes in the future.”

Will ruffled his hair and looked up at the big Starbucks symbol hanging over the entrance door. He took a deep breath and walked inside, being ambushed by the warm, coffee-scented air as opposed to the slightly chillier outside weather that did not smell like coffee. He had agreed earlier that week to meet Nico at the Starbucks so that they could work through their ridiculous amounts of math homework. Will was taking a fair guess that their teacher was not terribly happy with how inattentive his class actually was to his teaching.

“Hi, Will! Over here!” Will heard someone call from further inside the store. He looked around for the black mop of wavy hair that belonged to his now best friend. Today, Nico was dressed in pastel galaxy leggings, the same brown boots as he had worn the last couple weeks and an oversized pink knit sweater.

He slung himself into the chair opposite Nico. “What’s up?”

Nico smiled- the type of smile where he closed his eyes and held his hands up to his chest as if he was about to flap them. Will thought that was oddly cute. “Not much. Work’s drowning us as usual, but at least that’s an excuse to be productive.”

Will nodded. “Should I go get something to drink while you figure out exactly what we should do today and what we can wait with for later in the week?”

Having Nico’s nod of approval, Will put his bag down and got up. Placing himself at the back of the line, he looked over at where Nico was reading in his planner while pushing a strand of hair behind his ear. The purple hair clips didn’t look like they were there for anything than decoration. Cute.

He had only known Nico for a little under two weeks now, but it felt like they had been friends for way longer than that. He was like a missing childhood friend Will had only just met again, but he knew that was impossible. Will let a small smile slip as he looked up at the menu for what to get. Nico seemed like a hot chocolate person. Or maybe a Frappuccino.

“One Coffee Mocha and one Hot Chocolate please,” he told the barista, who nodded and then told him the sum of what he had to pay. After paying, he stepped to the side and looked out of the window.

They were just a couple weeks into the school year, but Will didn’t feel overworked like he usually did. Will had easily fallen into the routine of working along with Nico, who had surprisingly good control of schoolwork and when stuff was due.

“What did you get me?” Nico asked curiously when Will came back to the table and put down two cups. Will looked at him, suddenly slightly anxious that he had gotten the wrong thing for his friend. “You didn’t specify what you wanted, so I just got you hot chocolate. Was that okay?”

Nico looked surprised for the fraction of a second before grabbing the cup with both of his hands and smiling up at Will- the same adorable scrunched-up eyes smile that made Will’s legs just the tiniest bit weaker. No, we will not fall for this person now, William, even though you already did, you dumb fuck.

“Thank you, Will,” Nico said earnestly. “I thought you were going to get me coffee, but hot chocolate is just as okay. Really. I enjoy hot chocolate too.”

Will sat down again and thought for a moment before pushing his cup of coffee over to where Nico was sitting. “You can have a sip or two if you need caffeine. That’s really okay. I don’t mind sharing at all.”

“It’s a nice apartment you got,” Nico commented after Will had locked himself into his and Kayla’s apartment. It was later in the day, and Will had invited Nico over for food and video games- if Nico was up to video games of course. In the back of his mind, Will was very well aware of all the boxes still unpacked in their apartment.

“Thanks,” Will replied, throwing his keys into the bowl on the small table they kept in the hallway. It was filled with what looked like Kayla’s asthma medication (Will knew she kept one in her bag too, so she was good, a pack of chewing gum and what looked like post:it notes and pens. “It’s a bit messy since we only moved in here like three weeks ago.”

Nico shrugged. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s not like my home is pristine at all times too. We’re all human, Will.”

Will snorted and flashed Nico a creepy grin, one that made his lip piercing glint in the hallway light. “Are you sure about that, di Angelo? For all you know, I could be a demon preparing to steal and devour your soul.”

Feeling accomplished that he had made Nico laugh, Will made his way into the kitchen to get a glass of water. He hadn’t had enough to drink that day, and to be entirely honest, he was aware that his head was not too happy about that. “Do you want a glass of water too, Nico?”

He turned around when he heard the sound of soft socks moving over the laminate floor. There was Nico, hands hidden inside the oversized sweater and dragging his feet across the floor. His feet- clad with soft purple socks. What an adorable person.

He didn’t hear Nico’s answer. “What did you say again?”

Nico laughed again. “No, it’s okay, Will. Yes, I would like a glass of water, thank you.”

Will turned around again and grabbed a glass, filling it with water from the tap, trying his best to hide his blush. He was sure that the water was safe to drink.

“Thank you for helping me out with homework today,” Will mentioned as he handed Nico the glass. “I’m a horrible procrastinator unless someone kicks my butt the entire time I’m working.”

He put down his glass next to the sink and looked at Nico. “I need to go to the bathroom, but I will be right back. If you want, you can wait in my room. Second to the right down the hallway.”

Having Nico’s nod of approval, he left the kitchen, walked down the hallway and into the bathroom, sinking down against the wall with a sigh. He was falling. Hard.

Why am I doing this to myself? Will thought desperately, staring at himself in the mirror. Staring back at him was a teenager with faded red-dyed hair, piercings and a black band merch hoodie. It had been through the wash so many times that it was impossible to read exactly which band it was. He knew though, and somehow Nico had too. My Chemical Romance was always recognisable.

Deciding that he had stayed long enough in the bathroom for it to be convincing that he hadn’t just contemplated 666 ways of isolating himself from the world because he was an emotional little shit, Will flushed the toilet and left the room. He took yet another deep breath before walking into his bedroom, where Nico was sitting on his office chair. “You look like a child when you swing your legs back and forth like that.”

Nico rummaged through his pockets and dug out a lollipop, ripping off the wrapper before sticking it into his mouth. “Do you mind that?” The look he sent Will made Will’s heart skip a beat. How dare you be so adorable you little shit. This is unfair because I really want to kiss you but what if you don’t want to kiss me. This is kinda awkward.

“Not really no,” Will admitted, slumping down on his bed, shielding his eyes from the harsh bedroom ceiling light. “I can’t handle all the light. Nico, protect me!”

Nico sighed, kicking Will’s shin with one of his floofy-socks-clad feet. “Oi, you’ll survive. Get over it. It’s not like the ceiling light will give you a sunburn or anything like that.”

Will looked at him through the curly dark red fringe. “Are you honestly sure about that? Don’t test me here, I can manage everything if I try hard enough.”

“Sure, because you can fly. I’ll believe it when I see it, Solace,” Nico said, not quite able to hide the smile and giggles.

Will didn’t even reply to that as he stared at Nico, wondering what he was supposed to do with himself if Nico continued to act like the cutest person alive. God damn it, he wasn’t supposed to deal with complicated feelings like this. Love really was a weird thing.

He coughed, trying to clear his throat, although there was nothing to clear. “Is there anything, in particular, you want to eat? I can order pizza.”

Nico nodded. “No, pizza sounds good. I don’t eat it a lot, but pizza is always good.”

After discussing back and forth for a couple minutes trying to find something they both liked, they settled for something along the lines of ham and mushrooms (neither of them liked the mushrooms, but they were always peel-off-able so it wasn’t an issue.)

They ate the pizza discussing different tv shows they had watched recently, but it quickly turned into a heavy debate and rant about the shitty teachers at school.

“The English teacher, Mr Reynolds, is shit,” Nico argued. “He’s always mean to me because my English isn’t perfect and he hates Italians for a reason I don’t even understand. I think his life goal is to see me fail, although I wish him good luck with that since I manage to score well on every single test.”

“He’s not the best, no,” Will agreed. “But the history teacher is worse. Or, the worst, Blackwell, math. He’s the nightmare of nightmares. I don’t like him at all. Especially with the amount of homework he sent us home with this week.”

Nico nodded, a piece of cheese hanging out from the side of his mouth. Will had to fight the urge to remove it. “That was ridiculous. He can’t expect that much of us this early in the term.”

“Well, apparently he doesn’t care that we have to sit an hour longer every night solving equations and trig questions,” Will muttered, staring towards his backpack that was on the couch, containing the damned math homework they had barely made a dent in. “I need to go buy more paper Monday afternoon. I’m out of grid loose leaf paper after all the homework.”

“I can give you some if you remind me tomorrow night to put some more in my backpack,” Nico offered around a giant piece of pizza. “Should last you through Monday at least so that you can go after school and get more. I can come with you if you want to. I need to get more whiteout anyways so I might as well get it done then so I can stop borrowing yours all the time.”

Secretly, Will hadn’t minded that Nico had borrowed his whiteout, even though he was running low too. It wasn’t like both of them wrote everything perfectly on the first try.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“Will! We-el! I’m here! Behind you!” Nico shoved his way through the school corridor calling for Will. “Will! You big emo oaf, stop so I can catch up to you!”

Will turned and looked down, where he saw a pastel figure fight his way through the sea of navy and beige trying to get to him. He motioned towards the door in the gesture of “I will meet you outside so I don’t get killed by the rest of year 10 for causing a clot in the school circulatory system.

Will quickly got out of the door and closed the flap on his bag while waiting for Nico. He had barely lasted through the day, being out of whiteout (he had given the very rest to Nico and resorted to writing with pencil most of the day which he typically didn’t like but it was worth it), but he had somehow managed. He had remembered to bring his wallet (a personal achievement in his opinion, considering how forgetful he usually was) and his crush on Nico was (as always) very present.

He looked at Nico fighting his way out of the mob of students either getting to a new class or leaving and smirked.

“Are you okay there, Nic?” Will said, teasingly bending down to the same height as Nico’s offended face. He knew that Nico was sensitive about his height, and truth be told, Will loved teasing him about it.

Nico scoffed and crossed his arms. “Don’t call me that.”

Will just laughed and ran his hand through his hair before staring in the general direction of the bus stop. “So, do you wanna go to the tiny bookstore around here somewhere and get paper and whiteout or do you wanna go to the city and get what we need and some coffee afterwards?”

Nico smiled up at him. “That sounds nice.”

And Will melted slightly inside.

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