#how am i supposed to *get* a sport if the person paid to explain the game doesnt help me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wannabemobwife · 4 years ago

Text

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas - Chapter 13

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Dad!Mob!Tom x Mom!Mob!Reader

-Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader, Rosie Holland x Henry Osterfield

-Warnings: Guns, bombing, language, murder, blood, hints to smut (none actual smut), typos, shitty writing, torture I guess

-Words: 4.9K

A/n: Can we get back to mob stuff? Please. I want to apologize for this chapter, it is absolute shit and I could tell by writing it. Kind of a filler chapter. Sorry it is long.

Chapter 13: Revenge Never Felt So Good

Words: 4.9K

It had been a week, since you got your memories back and you declared your love for Tom once more. Right after that, you and Tom were on the first train to Paris, refusing to fly for awhile.

You and Tom returned last night, just in time to see Parker and Rosie off to school the next morning. While you and Tom had been enjoying a second honeymoon in the city of love, Nikki and Dom so graciously offered to watch the kids. Everything was falling back into full swing. Parker and Rosie were going to school regularly. Rosie spending all her time with Henry and Parker still living his secret double life.

Things going back to normal. Somewhat.

It was a typical morning, but anytime everyone every thinks that, something gets massively screwed up. You woke up early to make pancakes and bacon.

“So what is plan for everyone today?” You asked, sipping at your steaming cup of coffee.

“Well, Rosie and I have school,” Parker explained.

“I have plans with Henry,” Rosie chimed in.

“I have meetings all day, love.” Tom said, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

“Ok, so I’m all alone today,” you muttered, a little disappointed.

“I’m sorry darling, you could join me. You know much I love it when you sit in my lap during meetings. Really show them who’s boss,” Tom said, wrapping you in his embrace.

“No, it’s ok. I have some errands to run anyway.”

“Alright, angel. I love you. I’ll see you for dinner.”

“I love you too. Come on, kids. In the car we go.” You said, pushing everyone out the door.

“Why is Jared not driving?” Parker asked.

“Cause, I have errands to run and besides he’s driving your dad today.”

“Now let’s go.” You said as Parker and Rosie hopped into the car.

Tom was having a hard time returning to his mob personality. Some business was conducted in Paris, you tagged along and enjoyed every minute of it. Tom sometimes overcompensated for not being as dangerous and intimidating. He had grown soft taking care of you after the helicopter crash. Helping you get your memory took most of his time, he had to step away from the mob for awhile. But you were his top priority.

Tom couldn’t remember the last time he sat in his office doing business. He missed it. He missed the thrill of torturing someone, having them beg for their life in front of him. He missed the feeling of firing his gun.

“Tom, you’re late,” Haz said as Tom got out of the car.

“Sorry not sorry Haz, I enjoyed breakfast with Y/N and the kids this morning,” Tom responded.

“I have to tell you something.”

“What? It’s never good news if it’s right when I get here.”

“We’re down two more.” Harrison mumbled referring to then decreasing number of soldiers part of the Holland Empire.

“Are you fucking serious? Haz, I’m so fucking tired of this bullshit. My men are getting fucking killed. Everything has gone to shit,” Tom screamed, enraged.

“Tom, we’ll figure it out. Just need to keep your cool.” Haz said, trying to avoid Tom’s wrath.

“Easier said than done. Alright, who’s here,” Tom asked, trying to forget about everything else.

“William.” Haz said with a straight face.

“What? Why? He’s always been loyal,” Tom questioned. One of his most valuable men, working against him, the rat?

“I got word from the soldiers he has been taking bribes from Parker,” Harrison explained.

“What the fuck for? Well, I guess we’ll find out.” Tom said, walking into the main room of the warehouse.

“William, I’d never thought it would be you in this chair.” Tom said, walking up to one of his most trusted employees.

“Tom, you gotta believe me. I didn’t do anything. I’m not the rat,” William pleaded. He knew what had been happening to the mob.

“Did you or did you not take money from Parker?” Tom asked.

“Yes, he just wanted to get out of the manor at night. So, he paid me to turn a blind eye.”

“Where was he going?”

“I don’t know, I assumed to some girl’s house.” “William, I trust you. So I’m going to let you off with a warning, but you can’t let him sneak out anymore. I’m afraid we are being targeted. If he tries to leave, you have to tell me.”

“Yes, boss. I’m sorry.” William apologized.

“It’s ok, but you understand what needs to happen right? I can’t be looking like I’ve gone soft,” Tom asserted.

“Yeah, I can take it. It’s ok,” William said, gritting his teeth as he waited for the collision of Tom’s fist to his cheek. Tom winded up to deliver one swift punch to William’s left eye. Not breaking the skin but creating a dark purple blotch.

All of Tom’s frustrations have been channeled into his mob duties. Each punch riddled with anger and frustration. A release of catharsis combined with blood. Tom wears the smell of blood and death like a perfume.

The rest of the day was full of uneventful meetings. Meetings with business associates, actual business associates for the company.

When Tom came home, he planned to confront Parker about his whereabouts if he tried to sneak out again. Everyone retired, you went to sleep first and Rosie went to her room. Parker said, he was going to bed but Tom could see right through him.

Tom was sitting in the den, sipping a glass of watered down whiskey. Waiting for his son to disobey him. At 11:55 PM, Parker made his way downstairs ever so slightly. Only to be met with the dagger eyes of Tom.

“Where the fuck do you think you are going?” Tom asked as Parker tried to sneakily leave.

“I… I thought I heard noise outside and I’m going to go check on it,” Parker stammered. Getting caught by Tom was not part of the plan.

“Oh, ok. Parker the guards can do that. Go back to bed.” Tom said, turning back to the TV in the den, broadcasting Raiders of the Lost Ark.

“Ok. Night, dad,” Parker said, trudging himself back up the steps.

“Night…. I know, you’re lying,” Tom whispered loud enough for Parker to hear.

“What? I’m not lying.”

“Parker, I know you’ve sneaking out for weeks and bribing William.”

“Dad, I’m sorry,” Parker immediately started apologizing, no bother in trying to lie himself out of this one.

“Why have you been sneaking out?” Tom questioned, seething with anger but refusing to show it. Trying to have a mature adult conversation.

“I’ve been going to a girl’s house, her name is Jamie.”

“Oh, glad you find someone. You know after everything with Charlotte,” Tom replied.

“Well since I told you the truth, can I go? We made the plan a couple days ago and don’t want to cancel,” Parker lied.

“Alright, just be back before sunrise or your mother will have may head,” Tom informed him.

“Thanks dad, you should get some sleep,” Parker said, making his way out of the heavily guarded house.

Parker left as quickly as possible. He knew Wilson would be pissed for him being late. The talk with Tom was not how this was supposed to happen.

He couldn’t betray his family and himself anymore.

Parker hoped this was the last time he would have to talk to him. He planned to quit, after the conversation with Dom. Parker had become everything he hated, someone who kills for sport.

“Wilson, this is the last thing I’m doing then, I’m out,” Parker said, walking towards Wilson.

“We’ll talk about it later, my boy,” Wilson said, patting Parker’s shoulder.

“Alright who am I killing? You never gave me a target.” Parker shouted at Wilson walking.

“Oh, this isn’t a hit, it’s a robbery. Here’s your new firearm,” One of Wilson’s men explained, tossing a MP5K at him.

“You okay kid? You know if you’re too much of pussy the boss might understand,” jeered one of the men as Parker gulped at the size of the weapon.

“Fuck you, I’m fine. Let’s just get this over with,” Parker barked, trying to put his mind aside. He has never done anything like this. It wasn’t just one person he was killing, it was the possibility of having many causalities. Altering his persona from a hitman to a mass murderer.

A million thoughts flooded Parker’s mind. He wouldn’t be killing people who deserved it like before, contract killers or drug dealers, these were innocent people. Stupid people for gambling all their hard earned money away but nonetheless innocent.

Parker’s heart nearly stopped when he saw where the van pulled up to. A place he knew all too well, it was one of Tom’s casinos.

The company that Dom had built, but all the Holland boys sent thriving in the new century, was more than it seemed. Holland Exportation and Luxuries was much more than exporting goods.

It was casinos that ran all along the French Riviera, more specifically Monaco. It was hotels across the entire globe. It was a business but not the family one. More of a front for the mob but it paid the bills. Harry and Sam had been in charge of running and establishing the hotels and casinos across Europe.

“Y’know your way around, right? That’s why the boss put you on this.” One of men asked Parker as he fiddled with his new machine gun.

“I guess so.” Parker replied.

“Here’s a map. Where are the guards? Which posts?” Asked a soldier, pointing to the main entrance hallways, where security was sure to be.

“I don’t know.”

“So we’re going in there fucking blind? Fuck, thought you’d be good for something. Just stay out of our way,” yelled one of the capos.

“No. I’m taking point. If you have a problem, you can fucking talk to me about it along with my Glock,” Parker threatened.

“Alright. Don’t screw this up. The boss wants big bucks from this. Says “it’s step two in the fall of the empire.” Whatever the fuck that means.”

“On my count, 1, 2… 3,” Parker screamed.

They came storming in, barricading all the entrances and exits. Parker and Wilson’s men clad in all black and payday masks. All various colors and designs. They looked as they were trick or treating.

This was the last thing Parker wanted to be doing. He came today to quit and now he was robbing a casino.

Parker kept repeating a mantra in his head “Last one, then I’m done” as held his gun high. Pointing it directly at innocents, he could see them shaking in fear.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND NOW!” He shouted, aiming his machine gun high.

“Don’t you fucking touch that button. I know what it fucking does.” Parker barks at the person behind the token counter. “Open the vault.” Parker said, pointing the gun at him.

“Why should I?” remarked the worker.

“Cause I fucking said so and I’m threatening your life,” Parker explained

“Enough of this shit!” He screamed, firing a few rounds close to the worker but not hitting him.

“You don’t have to do this. You could walk out of here, all of you. And we could go on with our lives. No need for money or the cops.”

“I think we both know that’s not gonna happen. I’ll ask nicely, please open the vault,” Parker mocked. “Boss said “start killing hostages in 10 minutes.” One of the other men whispered in Parker’s ear.

“Did you fucking hear that? We’re gonna fucking kill you if you don’t cooperate. So I suggest you open… the fucking… vault.”

“Sir, we can’t.”

“See this gun. LOOK AT IT! It has the power to put a bullet through your skull. Open the fucking vault. I won’t ask a fifth time.”

“That’s it. Now, type in the code.” Parker directed towards them.

The vault door creaked open, revealing trappings of pure wealth. Money stacked on tables, almost reaching the ceiling. And gold bars, glistened as the light reflected off of them.

“Now was that so fucking hard. Take all of it. Everything, even the gold.” Parker said, directly towards his men.

“Thank you, you’ve served you purpose,” Parker said to the worker, shooting him dead not even 3 seconds later. The screams of the other hostages echoed through the vacated room.

“Now to everyone here, there’s already one dead. I don’t mind making it more,” Parker barked.

“What’s your name?” Parker asked the nice looking girl kneeling on the ground.

“It’s not nice to not answer when someone asks you question, especially someone with a 9 caliber MP5K in your face. I ask again. What’s your name?” Parker spoke.

“Jane,” she whispered, shaking with fear.

“Well Jane, I want to thank you for your cooperation. You are in charge of talking to the cops, ok? And let your boss know, that Wilson is always watching,” Parker said, as he turned to leave.

“I will but you won’t get as far as you hoped,” Jane asserted, trying not to irritate Parker.

“And why’s that?”

“I know you. I remember you. You’d come in here with your dad.”

“You don’t know fucking shit!” Parker screamed.

“I know your name and that puts me at a high position of power,” Jane expressed, growing less afraid by the second. Realizing he is just some scared boy. Maybe not afraid of his own shadow but broken down by the fear of the world.

“I’m the one pressing fucking gun to your head. I HAVE ALL THE POWER!” Parker vociferated loud enough to shake the chandelier hanging above.

“You wish. Men like you always wish.”

“Seems like you’re doing some wishing yourself sweetheart. Wishing to be escorted out of here in a body bag. Now shut your fucking trap.”

“Hey. Let’s go. Leave her.” One of the Wilson’s men said, pulling Parker towards the exit.

“He still loves you and he’ll forgive you for this,” Jane shouted as Parker left.

Refusing to turn back, he had taken enough lives from this ill attempt at revenge. Parker didn’t know who he was fighting against anymore. Who was the hero and who was the villain?

All the wrongdoings as vast as the sea. All his attempts to make someone pay were misconstrued. Who actually deserved it?

The words of the woman replayed in Parker’s head. She was like a broken record, forcing him to listen to a truth he hoped to forget. How could Tom forgive him? Parker knew what he done was unforgivable. It was a mistake, all of it.

Parker marched into Wilson’s office and said, “Ever since I started working for you, my family has been in danger. I thought my dad was the reason for my girlfriends death, but I was wrong. I guess I’ll never know. Here Wilson, my gun. I quit.”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing? I own you. I could end you, boy. Just like I almost did your parents,” Wilson barked.

“What?” Parker questioned, a look of confusion are on his face.

“Oh, please. You really think it was just a malfunction,” Wilson scoffed.

“What are you talking about?” Parker asked.

“Their helicopter. Pretty brilliant work, if I do say so myself,” Wilson gloated.

“They almost died.”

“Yeah and so? Your dad is my enemy. That is the whole reason you came to me in the first place.”

“You promised you wouldn’t hurt them,” Parker screamed. “Promises are meant to be broken. They don’t call me the Merchant of Death for nothing.”

Wilson was ready for the fight and been the one pulling the strings the entire time. Tom warranted no quarrel. Never being the instigator in a fight with Wilson.

They had been divided for years to come, focusing on their separate mobs. Only acknowledging each other if they accidentally crossed paths. There was Wilson’s mob, then a few others scattered round London such as Graham’s which was almost non-existent and Shaw’s which was mostly the drug scene. But Wilson was Tom’s biggest competitor. Being a part of then game for years before didn’t matter, Tom eclipsed Wilson just like the sun does the moon.

Or the moon to the sun, that was exactly Wilson’s play from the start. Taking out the pillars of Tom’s life. First a reason to have his son turn on him, the death of a loved one. Next, removing you from Tom’s grasp. Eventually a play had to be made on Rosie. Leaving Tom utterly alone.

Only thoughts that would cross his mind be suicidal ones, having lost everything he ever cared about. It was a long play, one Wilson vowed to see through. Wilson saw all his work as justice and merciful. Almost biblical, they way everything was playing out.

“It was you. All along. The fucking puppet master,” Parker mumbled under his breath.

“If you are talking about your little girlfriend, that was strictly business, nothing personal. But yes, I have been the one behind the scenes driving your father mad. Remember the note?” Wilson exclaimed.

“She didn’t deserve to die,” Parker shouted.

“What? Are you really upset? That was ages ago. Plus, I had to get you on my side somehow,” Wilson teased.

“Wait, you knew I’d come here?”

“Parker, how stupid are you? When will you grow up and learn this rivalry is just the beginning of a war. What side are you going to be on? You have a choice. I’ve warmed to you and I want you on my side as I take your daddy down.”

“That’s your first fucking mistake don’t have any weaknesses,” Parker admitted, taking a lesson from Tom. He drew is gun, point blank at Wilson.

“Parker, what are you doing? Put the gun down,” Wilson pleaded for his life.

“No, you made me into a cold blooded killer. Not my dad. I quit.”

BANG

After a loud thud sounded, the room was silent. Only a faint smell of smoke from the gun was there as Parker fled as quickly as possible.

Parker made his way home that night a changed man. All his kills in the pass were strictly business. Never driven by emotion but this one was personal.

It wasn’t a job or a hit. He was no longer a contract killer. Killing for the sake of money or an obligation. He was cold blooded killer.

In some twisted way, Parker enjoyed Wilson and his company. Looking up to him. He was then one who saved him from the horrible life he thought he was leaving behind. The one full of deceit and betrayal. The one with Tom, you and Rosie.

The one that led him to be next leader of the Holland mob. The one that resulted in the death of his beloved girlfriend. The one that had almost taken you and Tom away from him. The one that almost took his life. The one that forced him to kill for sport.

But no, he was wrong Parker brought that on himself. Parker’s naivety was his greatest enemy. He was just a child not too long ago. Once afraid of his own shadow, then afraid of failing at life and school, especially the SATs. Now, he was an adult burdened by problems a 16 year old should ever face. He could sit there and blame Tom, but it would do him no good when all he had to do was look in the mirror.

Parker was his own worst enemy. Searching for justice, when none could be found in a world wear mobsters roamed. Causing shootouts, robbing banks, and killing innocent people. People deserved to be avenged and Parker sure as hell wasn’t doing anything to aide.

Parker drove home, took four showers and threw his clothes away. Anything to wash off this abhorrent day. The next morning, Parker went on like nothing had changed. As if he didn’t shoot his boss and Tom’s rival in cold blood. As if didn’t only see himself as a cold blooded killer. Everything that he is and everything he owns soiled with the scent of murder.

He played it as though it was any other morning. Eating his pancakes and bacon before starting the day. Telling you about his plans for the day. Trying to keep his cool. The lovely morning breakfast conversation was interrupted once Tom’s phone rang.

RING, RING, RING

“Haz, why are you calling me? I’m having breakfast with my family,” Tom asked, annoyed his precious breakfast was interrupted. “Charlie is here, you need to get here. I have to tell you something,” Haz informed Tom. “Ok, I’m on my way,” Tom said, brushing off the request. Why would the

company’s electrical engineer for aeronautical transportation be there?

“Love, I’m so sorry but I’m needed at the warehouse. Thank you for this wonderful breakfast, wish I could enjoy it. Bye, kids. Have a good day at school,” Tom said, making his way out the door. Bidding you all goodbye.

“Haz, what’s was so urgent that I couldn’t finish my breakfast.” Tom barked, annoyed he was pulled away from you and the kids even on a Saturday.

“We were robbed last night. The casino.” Haz explained, his head hanging low.

“How the fuck? Did they catch them?” Tom seethed with anger.

“No, we do have eye witnesses though.”

“How much is missing?”

“About 11 million dollars, from cash to gold bars.” Haz said, waiting for Tom to explode.

“FUCK. We need to make them pay. I’m done playing fucking games.” Tom shouted, calming himself down for his meeting with Charlie.

“Now, you said Charlie was here, right?”

“Yeah, in your office.”

“Charlie? What are you doing here?” Tom asked, a little annoyed he was taken away from his morning with his family.

“Tom, I ran my report and did diagnostics tests and it’s not good,” Charlie started.

“What the fuck does that mean, Charlie?” Tom yelled.

“I think the helicopter was sabotaged.”

“What? You mean is that someone tried to take out my wife and I while we were on a helicopter,” Tom repeated, making all the connections necessary .

“Yes, it wasn’t just a normal malfunction. Did they ever find the pilot?” Charlie asked.

“No… Jesus fucking christ, if it’s true then…Fuck, I’m sorry I have to go,” Tom yelled, running out to the car.

“Jared, home now.”

“Mr. Holland is everything alright?” Jared asked, concerned by Tom’s frantic manner.

“No. I just found out the helicopter was sabotaged. I think someone might being trying to take out Y/N and I.”

“Come on baby, pick up,” Tom whispered, frantically dialing your number over and over.

“Y/N answer the god damm phone!” Tom shouted, when heard the same voice message over and over again, “Hi, this Y/N Holland please leave your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.”

“God fucking dammit. Fuck, voicemail. Jared do you know where my wife is?” Tom yelled, afraid what your silence meant.

“Last I heard she was at the store getting groceries,” Jared explained.

“Fuck, I have here location on my phone. Change course,” Tom barked, praying you were okay. With the information he just learned he didn’t want to leave you alone, not even for a second.

“Y/N! You’re okay.” Tom said, inhaling a breath of relief. You were coming out of the store pushing a cart of groceries.

“Tom! Of course, I’m okay. What are you doing here?” You asked.

“I’ll explain later. Get Parker and Rosie we need to go home now.”

“They’re already home. Henry’s there also. You’re scaring me.” You said, Tom never acts like this.

Being a part of a mob there is a constant fear of someone behind you. All throughout Tom’s life he only had to worry about himself until he met you.

Tom’s worst fear is him being the reason you no longer walk the earth. The last week he had glimpse of life without you and didn’t care for it one bit. You weren’t a weakness but at the same time, you were. For anyone with a dangerous job there’s always a target on your back.

“Come on, love. In the car,” Tom motioned towards the car.

“Tommy, my car is here. I’ll meet you there,” you said, kissing his cheek goodbye.

“Ok just be careful please.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Ok, Jared. Home now plea—“ Tom directed but was cut off by a loud BOOM.

“Jared, what the fuck was that?” Tom asked.

“Sir, it was Mrs. Holland’s car.”

“Y/N! Y/N?” Tom jumped out of the car. Nothing else mattered in that moment, only finding you.

Time stood still as thick black smoke bled through the air. Coating everything in its path with a faint ash. Screams echoed from the bystanders as the car went up in flames.

“Tom, I’m okay. It wasn’t mine.” You exasperated, coughing from the smoke. It wasn’t your car but it was close in proximity.

“Thank god. I can’t keep almost losing you,” Tom whispered, kissing you hairline.

“I’m here now.” The second you were in his arms you knew you were safe.

“Yes you are. It sure does look hell a lot like yours, though. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Tom said, wrapping his right arm around your shoulder.

Pulling up to the manor, everything looked different. There were more guards posted at every corner with heavier weaponry. Tom had the gate barricaded with another car in case some where to ram into the gate.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” Haz said

“They tried to bomb Y/N’s car. Thankfully the dumb fucks who planted it, picked the wrong car.”

“Tom you need to tell me what’s going on.”

“I will. Family meeting in the living room. Now.”

“Some of us have some secrets to share. I want to know everything that happened here while your mother and I were in Paris. Someone start talking,” Tom said, pacing in front of Parker and Rosie sitting on the couch.

Rosie and Parker were both hiding something. Rosie’s however was a rather monumental milestone. Rosie reminisced of her wonderful night with Henry while you and Tom were away. She loved Henry so much and was overjoyed to share that experience with him.

Rosie had told Henry at the wedding that she was ready to take that next step with him. Seeing you and Tom re-commit yourselves to one another affirmed that for Rosie. That she loved him more than anything.

“I’m sorry, dad. You don’t have to worry, we were safe,” Rosie blurted out.

“What?” Tom barked growing more anger by the second.

“Henry and I used a condom,” Rosie responded.

“Rosie?” You questioned, knowing what she was talking about.

“WHAT?” Tom screamed.

“That’s not what you were hinting at?” Rosie stammered.

“No, this is about Parker,” Tom reckoned.

“Fuck,” she mumbled under her breath.

“Where the fuck is he?” Tom yelled, bolting out of the living room. Looking for the boy who had stolen Rosie’s innocence. You and Rosie soon followed hoping Tom wouldn’t do anything rash.

“Dad!”

“Tom!”

“Henry, you bastard! You fucked my daughter!” Tom shouted charging at Henry.

“Oh shit,” Henry muttered, he knew Tom could kill him in an instant.

“You went in my daughter! What’s stopping me from killing you right now.” Tom asked with gritted teeth, hoping this dumbass wouldn’t answer.

“Tom, put him down,” you said, as Tom was gripping his collar and dangling him in the air.

“Daaaadddd.”

“Tom, please,” you pleaded as Tom held a gun square to Henry’s head.

“The safety is on, I was never gonna shoot him. Just make him shit his pants a little. From now on, you two can’t be here alone. And if you are in your room the door needs to stay open,” Tom said, pointing fingers at Rosie and Henry.

“I believe we have more important business to get to. Now come on,” you said, pulling Tom away.

“Y/N, you know I was never going to actually hurt the boy right?”

“Yes, Tommy. Now please resume the family meeting.”

“Parker. Do you have something to tell us?” Tom asked, knowing his son will lie.

“I’ve been sneaking out at night and I’m sorry,” Parker started, you could hear the disappointment behind his voice.

“Why? I know it’s not because of a girl. I want to know everything,” Tom explained, fucking tired of all the lies.

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

Parker began by explaining how he felt by the loss of Charlotte and how he turned to Wilson. In Parker’s mind he was doing the right thing. Serving justice to those who wronged others. But in reality he was the one committing the wrongdoings.

Parker came clean that he was the one killing all of Tom’s men and that he killed Jazz. That he went Wilson before coming to Tom. Becoming Wilson’s secret hitman was never supposed to go this far. He only intended for it to be a big fuck you to Tom. Not destroy his livelihood and his family in the process.

Including all the details of Wilson’s secret agenda of taking you and Tom out. But Parker left out the fact that Wilson was no longer a threat. Having taken care of him the day before.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve never been this naive and stupid. I’m the one you’ve been searching for. I’m the rat,” Parker exclaimed. “Dad, say something,” he pleaded.

“Get out,” Tom said with an unchanging expression.

“What?”

“I said get the fuck out!”

“Tom,” you tried to reason.

“You are no longer my son. Betraying me, betraying your family. Get out.” Tom screamed.

A/n: I’m sorry. I like the content in this chapter but not the writing.

Guns, Glamour and Goodfellas Masterlist

taglist: @thenoddingbunny-blog @dummiesshort @adriannauni @bi-lmg @allthisfortommy

#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland series #tom holland fanfic #tom holland mob au #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland fan fiction smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland masterlist #mob!tom x reader #mob tom #mob!tom #mob!tom holland #mob!tom x mob!reader #mob!tom holland x reader #dad!mob!tom holland

68 notes · View notes

bucketslutz · 4 years ago

Text

Godspeed

Summary: You've been working as Marcus Moreno's assistant for years, but during all this time you've also been hopelessly in love with him. You're unsure if he feels the same way, but as of late you've been catching him stare at you. He's said things that have seemed to have an ulterior definition and it's made you suspicious of his feelings. When a pipe bursts in your apartment, leaving your home unlivable while it's being renovated, Marcus invites you to stay with him and Missy till it's fixed. Will you fold and finally confess your feelings for him?

You can read Godspeed on AO3 here.

Warnings: 18+, smut, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, Marcus takes reader’s v-card, fluff, domestic-ish, AFAB reader, bisexual reader.

If Marcus was good at one thing, it was making your job a million times harder than it needed to be. He didn’t do it on purpose, he just tended to be more forgetful than you’d expected someone of his reputation to be. Whether it’d be meetings with the Heroics, grocery shopping, or even Missy’s parent teacher conferences, everything always managed to slip his mind. You suppose it is your job to keep track of all these things for him, remind him, and make sure he stays on top of all of his responsibilities. When he hired you, you were still a junior in college and his wife had passed away only a year prior. You didn’t expect that you’d be using your BA in international relations to be babysitting a grown man, but you don’t mind. He pays you substantially and he’s taught you so much over the years. You’re thankful that he even considered you for the job, the leader of the Heroics, when you’re far from interesting yourself. But he’s always been so kind and patient with you. Your first day you were fumbling over everything; you spilled coffee on his white button up, you accidentally packed Missy a peanut butter sandwich in her school lunch when she has a severe peanut allergy (luckily Marcus had glanced inside the unzipped lunchbox and swiftly threw it away), and you forgot to go grocery shopping that day. You hid inside the half bath off of the living room and cried from the stress, feeling like an absolute and complete fuck-up. Marcus knocked ever-so-gently on the door and you choked out a measly “I’m fine. Be out soon,” as a response. He didn’t buy it, obviously as he heard your sniffling from down the hall, and opened the door with a concerned look on his face. You were sitting on the floor, absolutely spent from the emotionally exhausting day. He got down with you and comforted you, talked you down from the breakdown and explained that he knew his schedule will take some time to get used to, but you’re a capable and strong individual who will catch on quickly.

“Cariña, I’m not disappointed in you. Mistakes will happen, you’ve gotta break a few eggs sometimes to make an omelette,” he told you with a wink, which caused you to snort at his very dad-ish remark; at that point, you had already forgotten about all the things you screwed up that day and was ready to start fresh tomorrow. And he was right, you caught on quickly. He’d begun saying a million times how life has seemed to have gotten easier since you entered it. You could’ve sworn there was a glint of something behind his eyes when he’d say it, maybe admiration, respect, perhaps even love. But you’d brush it off with a modest smile, trying to soften the weight of his words by saying you’re just doing what you’re being paid to do. He’d shake his head, trying his best to make you understand how much you’ve impacted his life. But you’re not used to someone insisting you deserve more respect than you give yourself, and Marcus showers you in praise every single day. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find the compliments flattering, especially coming from someone like him. You’ve always found him very attractive, even before you started working for him. A lot of your friends in college would tease you about it, not finding him nearly as charismatic as Miracle Guy, but you stuck to your guns. You’d hoped that when you met him you wouldn’t be disappointed, praying that he was just as kind in person as he appeared to be on the news. But now that you know him, he’s more than kind...he’s considerate, caring, patient, and a wonderful father. You’re beyond lucky to have met someone like him. He’s changed your life for the better, and you’ll never stop being grateful for his generosity. He makes it too easy to fall in love with him; his warm smile, chocolate brown eyes, his dad jokes. You even love the parts of him that wouldn’t necessarily be that interesting to anyone else, yet they are to you; the way he eats sandwiches by nibbling all the crust off of the sides then working his way to the middle in a circular pattern, or the way he hates to make his bed because he’s “just going to get back in it at the end of the day anyways,” or how he sometimes takes a minute to get a joke in a movie or TV show and will laugh for way longer than he needs to. You’ve been hopelessly in love with him for years now, and it’s made your job uncomfortable from time to time.

Once he started going back in the field, he’d come back to his house in immense pain every day. And for a little while, you just gave him some advil and a heating pad to leave him to his devices. But the pain and discomfort got worse, and he suggested a massage would relieve the pain. Which of course it would, and you should have no problem doing that for him. He wasn’t even necessarily asking you, he just said that a massage would feel better and he should go get one. But you still took it upon yourself to give him one anyways, perhaps as an excuse to touch him, but you care about him and you wanted him to feel better. He protested, of course, not wanting to inconvenience you, but he ultimately succumbed when you straddled his back and began rubbing his sore muscles. You did everything in your power to not seem as turned on by his groans of pleasure as you were; trying to hide the way your breath hitched when he choked out a “Yes, right there. Perfect,” between his shallow grunts. He had you in the palm of his hand, and he didn’t even know it. Your best friend has been telling you to make a move for months, but you’re too shy, and you’re not even sure if he feels the same way. He could very well want all of his assistants to stay for dinner, or movie night, or offer to let you stay in the guest bedroom when a pipe burst in your apartment leaking water all over your living room. You didn’t want to accept at first, feeling like you’d be overstepping, but Marcus insisted. He said he and Missy didn’t mind, especially considering you were way better at cooking meals than he was. You finally accepted the offer, figuring it’d also be way easier to work when you’re in closer quarters. You’d be cutting out commute time, and you wouldn’t have to get up so early to get there in time to make breakfast before Missy leaves for school. And you do love sleeping. So you accepted, what’s the worst that could happen? It’s not like you’ll confess your love for him while you’re staying over; so long as you stay away from the alcohol.

You knock gently on Marcus’ bedroom door and call out his name softly, coffee cup and newspaper in hand. You hear a muffled groan in response, and take that as your cue to enter. Cracking the door open, you see him laying on his stomach tangled up in his sheets with a pillow covering his head. He hated mornings.

“Marcus, it’s time to get up. You have a meeting this morning,” you coo as you enter his bedroom. He rolls over and pulls his head out from under his pillow, sporting the worst bedhead you’ve seen on him yet; you bite back a laugh.

“It’s early,” he grumbles, obviously very groggy from his slumber. You settle on the edge of the bed, offering him the cup of coffee to which he sits up and takes the mug from you eagerly.

“You didn’t see me complaining about the hour when I had to get up at 4 am and bust my ass here every morning, just so I could make breakfast for you and your daughter,” you snide playfully. You don’t resent him for that, and he knows that. He works hard and has a lot on his plate, and he knows you understand that. But it’s become almost like a running joke between the two of you that he can’t complain because “you have it harder.”

“Touché,” he says, pausing to say your name, “Touché.” He takes a few sips of his coffee and holds his hand out for the newspaper, which you then hand to him. He takes a quick sip, contentedly. “Mm, why is it whenever I make coffee it takes like dirty socks, but when you do it, it tastes like heaven. Are you hiding a fancy coffee maker here that I don’t know about?”

“Hm, don’t know. Maybe I’m magic,” you remark jovially, smiling warmly at him. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment and he returns the smile.

“Yeah, something about you sure is magic,” he says, that familiar glint of... something in his eyes. Then he gets up from under his covers and pats your leg with the newspaper as he exits his bedroom, leaving you feeling strange after that encounter. Not a bad strange, you just sensed there was an air of something hanging around him. You’ve been feeling that a lot with him for a while. He’s just said or done things that hinted at meaning more than what it was, but you’ve been trying to brush it off as you looking for something that wasn’t there. You stood up from his bed, tidying up his covers a little so they no longer looked like someone just rolled out of them. You shook your head at the sight of some of his dirty clothes scattered all over the floor and took it upon yourself to pick them up and toss them in his hamper for you to wash later this afternoon. Making your way downstairs, you can hear Marcus shuffling around in the kitchen, humming the chorus of Raspberry Beret by Prince. Another thing you loved about him, he was always humming something around the house, to Missy’s dismay, but you never got tired of it. It warmed your heart to see him so happy. While you didn’t know him before the passing of his wife, you could tell that it still brought him down sometimes when you first started working for him. He’d come home late from work, immediately go to the liquor cabinet, and lock himself in his office for the rest of the night. A year or so ago he finally went through her old things with you and got rid of a lot of stuff. He kept a lot of her belongings, mostly for Missy, but was finally ready to throw a lot of her things away. So the times when you hear him singing absentmindedly, it reminds you that he’s healing and it makes you happy to finally see that after so many years of grief. Entering the kitchen, you cross over to the island and finish plating Marcus’ and Missy’s pancakes; Marcus was sitting at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and sipping on his coffee. You set his plate in front of him and he glances up at you, smiling brightly.

“Thanks, these look great. Do these have bananas in them?” he asks excitedly.

“Yep, of course,” you reply with a grin, running your hand over his shoulder before turning back to cross over to the island. You know full well his favorite breakfast is banana pancakes, so you make them for him whenever he has to get up extra early for meetings.

“You know me too well,” he teases, spreading a glob of softened butter on the top of his pancake. You hear footsteps descending the staircase rapidly and the appearance of Missy in the kitchen shortly thereafter, dressed and ready for school.

“Hi dad!” she greets her father, then you, and settles in her chair at the kitchen table. You set her plate of pancakes in front of her along with a small plate of bacon. Marcus glances at you, then the bacon, then back at you, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Why does she get bacon and I get fruit?” he whines, through a mouthful of pancake.

“Because you’re susceptible to heartburn, Missy is not,” you tell him, smacking his hand as he reaches for one of her slices. Missy sticks her tongue out at her father, teasing him as she munches on her bacon. “Quit your whining, Moreno. Fruit is good for you.”

“Outnumbered and outwitted,” he remarks dejectedly, poking at the fruit on his plate. You roll your eyes at his dramatics and finish plating your own breakfast, with extra pieces of the assorted fruits that you especially love. You catch Marcus’ gaze lingering on you for longer than what would be considered “a passing glance.” Once you lock eyes with him, he turns his head back to his newspaper immediately pretending he wasn’t just staring at you. Okay, you can safely say now that he’s officially been acting weird. You don’t have the energy nor the time right now to address his behavior, so you opt to join him and Missy at the table and silently finish your breakfast before you have to drive Missy to school.

…

These chores have been kicking your ass today. You were too preoccupied with the burst pipe in your apartment last week that you weren’t able to do the laundry, so now you’re gifted with two weeks worth of laundry to wash, dry, iron, fold, and put away. It’s almost the end of the work day and you just finished folding the last load. You huff as you haul the basket up the stairs and down the hall to Marcus’ bedroom. You hum absentmindedly as you put his clothes away, tuning out your surroundings as your music blasts through your earbuds. This is the only part of laundry you really like. Firstly, because it’s the easiest part, and secondly because you get to listen to your music in peace without anyone bothering you. Being in the house alone means you can scream/sing the lyrics to your favorite songs without Marcus or Missy making fun of you. Except you didn’t realize you weren’t home alone right now, because Marcus has been watching you, leaning against the threshold of his bedroom door. You stopped dead in your tracks and startled when you noticed his presence. Clutching your chest with your hand you laugh out of embarrassment.

“Marcus, what the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” you ask, frustrated that he just completely ruined your vibe.

“I like hearing you sing. I’ve got my own concert right here in the comfort of my own home,” he half teases, half remarks flirtily at you. He’s staring you up and down, as if you were a sight for sore eyes in your ripped mom jeans and bleach dyed t-shirt. Your hair was lazily thrown up into a messy bun for convenience, some strands hanging around your face to frame it.

“Whatcha listening to?” he asks, crossing towards you.

“Um, Godspeed, by Frank Ocean. You wouldn’t know him, as his career exists post-Prince and Queen, grandpa,” you joke playfully. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips.

“Alright, indulge me then. I wanna listen.” Sighing, you oblige and pull your phone out of your pocket and tuck your earbuds away. You start the song over from the beginning and turn the volume all the way up as the song begins. Marcus stares off and listens intently, taking in the synthetic sounds that prelude the lyrics. Once Frank Ocean begins singing, a small smile appears on his face and he nods his head.

“I like that, reminds me of you,” he says sweetly, offering his hand out to you. You glare at it suspiciously, not really sure what he’s asking. “Dance with me.” A blush creeps up on your cheeks and you take his hand happily.

Marcus moves one of his hands to the small of your back while the other clutches yours. You bring your hand to his shoulder and begin swaying with him to the music, singing along to the lyrics softly. He’s staring deep into your eyes and trailing his hand up and down your back, leaving goosebumps wherever it goes. You’ve never felt more in love with him than in this moment. He’s content just swaying with you and staring into your soul. And this song reminds him of you. Because of what? Is this how he feels about you? There will be mountains you won’t move. Still I’ll always be there for you, how I do. He has always been there for you. He’s said he will a million times; when your dad died and your mom became estranged, he didn’t expect anything of you. All he did was text or call you ever-so-often to check in on you and make sure you were doing okay. He was one of the only people who really made you feel cared for at that time. That’s when you fell in love with him. You realized that you wouldn’t have gotten through that without his support and care. He and Missy dropped off a gift bag of all of your favorite snacks and movies one night and they spent the evening with you watching movies. Missy fell asleep on your couch and you fell asleep leaning against Marcus’ chest. It was the best you’d slept since your father’s passing. The song ends, leaving you and Marcus swaying to silence, anticipating each other’s next move. Eventually you both stop swaying, your hands move up to lace around the back of his neck and his move to cradle the small of your back. His mouth keeps parting and he inhales sharply, as if he’s about to say something, but he’ll purse his lips, second-guessing himself. You don’t know how, but you know what he wants to say. You can feel it as you look into his eyes. You can feel it when you catch him staring at you. You can feel it every time he enters a room.

“Say it, Marcus,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You stare at him desperately, you want, no--need to hear him say it. Because you both know how he feels. He just needs to say it. He stares at you lovingly, and brings one of his shaky hands up to brush a stray strand of hair out of your face. You inhale sharply at his touch, anticipating the words you’ve been wanting to hear him say for years.

“I’m in love with you,” he admits, his voice dripping in his signature rasp, saying your name as if he was blessed by the gods themselves to have the ability to say it. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, cariña. I always have been, and I always will be.”

Your heart beats out of its chest by his admission, your stomach somersaulting and your skin ablaze. I love you, Marcus. Truly, deeply, I do. Your eyes begin to well up, not from sadness, or even joy, but from relief. After years of uncertainty, wonder, even frustration, you finally know how he feels about you. How he’s always felt. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off of your shoulders. You love him. You’ll shout it from the rooftops, if you have to. I love him, I love him, I love him, I love him. Tears begin sliding down your face as Marcus cups your cheek with the palm of his hand. You nuzzle into his touch, revelling in the way he so effortlessly cares for you.

“I love you, Marcus. I always have,” you finally confess, your voice shaky from the crying. You sniffle and let out a light laugh in relief. You finally said it, and so did he. His eyes look glassy, and he appears to be biting back tears. He smiles lovingly at you, clearing his throat to try and push down the lump that’s been forming. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, stroking your head with the pad of his thumb as he does so, and pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. He cradles the back of your head while his other hand wraps tightly around your back. Your arms hook under his, clutching his back eagerly.

“I love you too, cariña,” he whispers, his lips pressed atop your head. You close your eyes, revelling in his hold on you for a moment before you decide to pull away and look up into his eyes.

“Kiss me,” you whisper, your eyes searching his for the need you have to lock your lips with his. He doesn’t hesitate to dip his head and pinch your chin, tilting it up towards his face, and sealing his admission of love with a needy, gentle kiss. You sigh into the kiss, feeling sparks all throughout your body. He pulls you into his chest, your body now flush against his and your arms wrapping around his neck. He slides his tongue along your closed lips and you part them, welcoming his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues tangle, the both of you needily searching each other’s mouths. His hands begin roaming your body, sliding up and down your waist, toying with the hem of your top and grazing his fingers over the skin of your lower back. As if he was asking permission to slide his hands up your bare back. You nudge his arm lazily and he complies, sliding his hands up your spine leaving goosebumps in his wake. You gasp against his lips as his hands explore your back, pressing further into him as best as you can. He mumbles into the kiss, gripping your bare waist.

“Mm, Missy home?” he asks against your lips. You shake your head, of course he’d forgotten that she was staying over at a friend’s; you had to bust your ass this afternoon running errands and trying to drop her off in time.

“Friend’s house,” you tell him between kisses. He nods, tugging the fabric of your shirt up.

“Do you want me to take this off, honey?” he asks gently, his lips moving from yours to your cheek then your neck as he trails love bites up and down the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck.

“Yes, please,” you reply breathlessly. He slips your top over your head leaving you in your bra. Not wanting to be the only one shirtless, you bring your fingers up to his tie and loosen it before slipping it over his head, working impatiently on the buttons of his dress shirt. Soon you’re both shirtless, chests heaving as your lips lock together feverishly once again. He starts pushing you towards the bed till your calves meet it.

“Lay down--if-if that’s-if you’re okay with that, cariña,” Marcus says, trying his best to seem assertive, but in his heart he’s too gentle and caring to force you to do anything. You roll your eyes and spin him around, shoving him back onto the bed and climbing onto his lap. Supporting your weight by pressing your hands to his bare chest, you dip down to kiss him again. This time they were sloppy and needy, you wanted to savor every bit of him and memorize the way his lips melted into yours. The way his stubble poked your lip, the way his tongue glided across yours, the feeling of his breath against your face. His hands slide down to grip your ass, kneading it through your jeans. You grin into the kiss, enjoying his hands all over you and the way he’s possessively groping your ass.

“Take off my bra,” you command against his lips. He nods eagerly, his fingers fumbling with the straps of your bra before finally releasing the clasp at the back. You shrug off your bra and slip your arms out of the straps, the garment falling onto his bare chest. He chuckles once it plops onto him, he tosses it to the floor and smiles up at you giddily; he looks at you as if you just gave him the best thing you could have ever given him. You roll your eyes at his excitement.

“Why are you so excited? You never seen a pair of boobs before?” you tease, a blush creeping over his face as he realizes you’ve noticed the way he’s been ogling your chest.

“I just never thought you’d let me look at you like this,” he says, with a slightly somber tone. Did he really think you weren’t going to love him back? He must’ve been feeling the same way you have all these years; the yearning, the pining, and the pain of never really being sure if they loved you in return. But you were here now, on top of him in his bed without a shirt on. You grab his arms and pull him up towards you so he’s sitting up, while you remain straddling his lap. He strokes your face tenderly, taking every bit of you in. You turn your cheek into his touch and plant a chaste kiss against his palm, Marcus smiles at you in return. Your heart could not be full of any more love right now. The way he’s looking at you, touching you, kissing you...you’ve never felt this much love from anyone at once. You don’t think you’ve loved anyone like you’ve loved Marcus. Even though you haven’t really had a serious relationship since high school, a relationship that scared you away from love, but you still didn’t think that you’d let someone enter your heart again. Marcus proved to you from the beginning that he’d never hurt you, so you’ve always trusted him, which is something that you don’t like giving away so easily. Truth is, you’ve not even let a man look at you naked since you were a freshman in college; he was an asshole who took advantage of you and your body. And when you told him you weren’t ready to go all the way, as you’re still a virgin, he was fine with it...Till he decided to ghost you the next day. That made your experiences with men even more volatile. It left such a bad taste in your mouth that you never got around to actually having sex with a man. You got by in college with occasional hookups with women, but you always made sure to leave before they woke up, so as to avoid any festering feelings. Marcus got you to a point in your life where you could trust someone like him, finally. He’s treated you well, he’s loved you more than anyone ever has, he’s taken his time with you by being ever-so-patient. And he will always be your rock no matter what.

“Marcus, I want you to see the rest of me,” you whisper, holding his face in your hands. He smiles warmly at you, his coffee-colored eyes holding every ounce of your pain you’ve allowed him to hear and see. He obliges immediately, stripping you of the rest of your clothes, stroking your exposed skin with his feather-like touch. He’s gentle, loving, caressing your skin like you might crumble under his fingertips if he applies too much pressure. You straddle his clothed lap now completely naked, your slick lips gliding over the rough fabric of his jeans as his erection applies intoxicating pressure against the length of your cunt. Your lips are tangled together hungrily, but he kisses you slow and sensually as he searches your lips with his own, his tongue sliding inside your mouth.

“Let me see the rest of you too,” you whisper against his mouth, your fingers dipping down to his belt buckle as you pry it open. He nods his head and aids you in taking off his pants till he’s now clad in his black briefs. He groans as you palm his erection through his briefs, feeling his dick twitch under your touch as you glide your fingers up and down its tense length. He gasps into the kiss, sensitive and responsive to your hold on his cock. You tug on the elastic of his briefs and yank them down, Marcus adjusts so you can pull them down his legs more easily. His dick springs free, dripping with pre cum and twitching with need. Your pelvis settles firmly against his, Marcus’ cock sliding between your pussy lips and nudging your clit gently. You whimper against his lips as each thrust of his hips results in the head of his dick flicking your sensitive nub. Your clit aches for more friction, needing his fingers in your pussy and for him to stroke you. You grip his wrist and bring it between your legs, urging them into your dripping core.

“You want me to touch you, cariña?” Marcus grunts into your ear, his fingers tracing your entrance. His hot breath tickles your ear and makes your pussy clench with need.

“Marcus, my clit--please, baby,” you whimper against his neck. You thrust against his fingers, attempting to force them inside you, but he avoids your advances. He finally slides his finger up through your lips and to your clit, flicking the aching, swollen bud. You gasp, throwing your head back in pleasure as Marcus strokes you. He pulls his hand away and brings it to your mouth, prying your lips open with his finger, urging you to lubricate it. You swirl your tongue around his digit, then he pulls it out and brings it back to rubbing your clit. The pleasure builds inside of you, your breath hitching with each flick of his finger. You’re getting close to the edge, desperate for Marcus to let you cum; his lips trail up and down your neck, lazily licking and nipping at the skin there. He replaces his middle finger with his thumb and continues the pace of his strokes on your clit before sliding two fingers inside of you. The fullness causing you to mewl in his ear as you begin riding his fingers. Your climax builds as your pussy clenches around his fingers that are working in and out of you, curling with each thrust inside of you. The flicks against your swollen bud, your hips rolling into his fingers, his lips on your neck...the way Marcus is working your cunt right now is pushing you close to the edge. Your toes start curling and your pussy clenches around his fingers, causing Marcus to groan at your tightness.

“That’s right, hermosa. I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum,” he groans in his signature rasp. His hot breath sticks to your neck as the pressure inside of you builds. Shutting your eyes and moaning a slew of curses, you begin to see spots as your pelvis tingles and your cunt clenches hard around Marcus’ fingers. His fingers climb up to your scalp and he tugs your head back by your hair, pulling it away from where it was resting in the crook of his neck. You lazily part your eyes open through your climax, finding Marcus staring at you through his lustful brown eyes. His digits work you through the rest of your orgasm, relishing in the way he’s staring at you; your jaw slack, whimpering and moaning, your hands clutching his broad shoulders.

“You’re beautiful, my love,” he breathes, stroking the stray strands of hair out of your face. You smile lazily at him, panting as you come down from your climax. His dick twitches against your thigh as he pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy. He offers them to you and you part your mouth, welcoming his cum soaked digits into your mouth; sucking the evidence of your arousal from his fingers. He watches you, your lips sealed around his fingers and your eyes dark with lust. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and lightly grazes your jaw with his saliva soaked fingertips.

“I want you to fuck me, Marcus,” you tell him hungrily, still breathless from your orgasm. He nods eagerly and grips your hips, trying to position you above his cock. You resist his grasp, and he glances up at you confused.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asks, his tone dripping with concern as he cradles your cheek with one of his hands.

“Nothing, I’ve just--I haven’t really...I guess I’m--,” you pause to sigh. “I’m still--technically--a virgin.” You swallow hard, unable to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed by your admission. It’s stupid to feel embarrassed, especially in front of Marcus who would never judge you for something like that. He stares at you comfortingly, not an ounce of condescension in his eyes.

“Okay, honey, let me take care of you,” he says tenderly, flipping you on your back so now he’s hovering over you. “Do you want this?” He holds you gently, wanting you as comfortable as possible and trying desperately not to pressure you into anything.

“Yes, Marcus. I want you. I trust you,” you affirm, your fingers dancing over the stubble on his cheek, desperately wanting more of him. Trust has always been hard for you. This was more than just letting him take your virginity, it was letting him into your heart completely and earnestly; it was the first time in years you’ve let someone love, touch, and look at you like this. And you wouldn’t want anyone else to be here fucking you except for Marcus. He grins at you warmly, his eyes so full of love and want.

“I love you,” Marcus says your name, planting a longing kiss on your forehead and nuzzling his cheek against your cheek.

“I love you, too, Marcus,” you say, feeling all his love for you by simply looking into his eyes. He smiles and plants kisses along your jawline and throat, nipping at the flesh. He reaches into the drawer in his bedside table and pulls out a condom. He tears open the package and rolls it onto his cock. Marcus positions himself at your entrance, your legs wrapping around his waist in anticipation.

“You okay?” he asks nervously, he seems more anxious than you even are and it’s absolutely adorable.

“Marcus, sweetheart, I’m fine,” you giggle, your hands cradling the sides of his head. “Please, I want this. I’ve wanted this for forever. Fuck me, please.” He nods, planting kisses on your forehead, and his dick prods your slick entrance. Marcus sinks the head of his cock into you and hisses at the tightness of your pussy. You mewl as he stretches you open slowly, your arms wrapping around his neck and your bare chest pressing into his. He slowly buries his length into you, his cock twitching inside of you and he revels in the tightness of your cunt. You gasp once he’s sheathed inside of you, your pussy stretched wide open for him and only him. Your clit aches for more friction, and you desperately need him to move inside of you.

“You good?” he groans through gritted teeth, his lips hovering above yours as your breaths mingles together.

“Marcus, baby, move please--fuck,” you gasp, gripping his shoulder tight. He doesn’t hesitate to begin pulling out slowly, and moving back inside your aching pussy. His thrusts are slow and gentle, trying to get you used to his length before he picks up the pace. He wants this to be as enjoyable for you as possible and he’s only able to do so by starting out painstakingly slow. After a few more slow, languid thrusts, he gauges a slightly quickened pace. You moan, locking his lips with yours, and sloppily kiss him as you begin to try and thrust against him, searching for a rhythm. Your hips rock with his, his thick cock gliding in and out of your pussy, but your clit still craves more friction.

“My clit--shit, Marcus,” you hiss against his lips. He dips one of his fingers between your bodies and begins flicking your clit gently and expertly as he continues to fuck you. You gasp and whimper into the kiss as he keeps flicking the sensitive bud in rhythm with his thrusts. You bring his lower lip between your teeth and tug it gently, Marcus groaning before locking your lips again.

“Fuck--cariña, you’re so tight--so good--for me, shit,” Marcus growls into the kiss, his thrusts keeping pace but becoming harder. You moan, the pressure on your clit becoming almost too much for you as his cock stretches you wide and fills you each time he thrusts all the way into you. “Wanted you--wanted--I’ve dreamt about fucking this tight little pussy, cariña.”

The way he speaks to you makes your body run hot, his words burning into your skin and making you flush. You moan your affirmations, wanting to urge him on to keep going.

“Baby, keep going--keep talking,” you choke out between gasps and moans. Marcus continues his pace on your clit and with his thrusts, not faltering even once as he groans in pleasure.

“I wanted to bend you over my desk and fuck the shit out of you. I--shit--wanted to eat your pussy out while you made breakfast; on my knees, my head between your thighs, licking your cunt like that’s what you were serving me,” he growls, dipping his head down briefly to lazily suck your nipple, switching between both breasts. “You--fuck--mija, you’re mine. You’re finally mine, I won’t lose you.” His hot breath tickles your breasts and he kisses his way back up to your lips locking them together again. His words were not possessive by any means, they were desperate, needing you to know how much it would hurt him if he were to lose someone else he loved the same way he lost his wife. The pressure he’s creating from the flicking of your clit partnered with his cock buried deep inside your pussy as it tickles your g-spot, becomes too much and before you know it you’re close. Your cunt clenches around his cock a few times, making Marcus groan into your mouth. You gasp and whimper, wanting to cum for him again; you want to come undone in front of him, show him just how much you’ve wanted to fuck him all these years. You roll your hips up into his, frantically searching for your orgasm as your thrusts begin to quicken and your pussy clenches around him once again.

“Marcus, I’m close,” you whimper into your sloppy kiss, clinging to his back and dragging your nails up and down the skin there.

“Cariña, cum for me. You look so sexy when you finish,” he whispers huskily against your lips, nipping at your bottom lip as he thrusts harder into you again, the slapping of skin echoing throughout the room. Your body tenses underneath him, white spots clouding your vision as your cunt clenches around his dick, milking him. Your body tingles and you spasm against his bare chest, digging your nails further into his back. Marcus thrusts into you, hissing when you clench around his throbbing cock, as he rides out his climax. His groans and whimpers growing louder as he reaches his orgasm, then promptly quieting down once he begins to come down. You pant, your chest rising and falling as you also come down from your own climax. Marcus slumps next to you, his twitching length still sheathed inside of you as your legs tangle together. He grabs your chin and tilts your head towards him to kiss you, slowly and featherlike, wanting to savor your taste. You lay like that for a moment, your sweaty chests rising and falling together as you both try to catch your breath.

“I’m so in love with you,” Marcus says your name, draping his arm over your stomach and squeezing your waist gently. “And I will show you just how much I love you every day, mi amor,” He plants a kiss on your shoulder. “I’ll never let you forget it.” He kisses up and down the length of your neck, his tongue darting out occasionally to taste you.

“You’re my hero,” you giggle, turning on your side to face him while his dick still remains buried inside of you. He rolls his eyes playfully, having heard hundreds of different women say that very phrase over the course of his career, but it strikes something inside of him when he hears you say it. “You saved me. I love you.” You snuggle into his chest and pepper kisses along the sweaty skin there.

“I’ll always be here, cariña. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll catch you when you fall, like how you catch me when I do. I would be so lost without you, mi corazon,” he says tenderly, planting a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you tighter. He loosens his hold on you, and pulls his half-hardened cock out of your pussy. He disposes of the condom then pulls the sheets back over your bodies, bringing you into his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Marcus plants slow, languid kisses all over your face, wanting to make you feel all the love he holds for you. Your eyes droop shut, fatigue beginning to overcome your body as you’re trapped in Marcus’ arms. But this is a place you wouldn’t want to escape, no, you feel safe here. Marcus won’t let you go, and you wouldn’t let him go either. Marcus has your heart, and there’s no one else you’d trust to keep it. He’s your hero, after all. The hero who saved you with his love.

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno x reader #afab reader #marcus moreno x afab reader #we can be heroes #pedro pascal #marcus moreno dilf #mutual pining #yearning #domestic fluff #marcus moreno takes your virginity #marcus moreno is caring af #marcus moreno marry me pls #miracle guy #godspeed by frank ocean

68 notes · View notes

fanartfunart · 4 years ago

Text

Fly Away

Episode 6: Riposte

Ao3 - First - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. - Marinette and Sabrina try out for D’Argencourt’s fencing academy, and a mysterious person challenges Adrien for a spot in the academy.

“You've been reviewing the fencing rules all weekend, it's going to be great!” Tiki exclaimed cheerfully. Marinette smiled and nodded.

“Oh! Marinette!” Sabrina waved cheerily, holding her fencing helmet under her arm. Tiki squeaked and hid in a fencing helmet as the other teen ran up to Marinette.

“Hi? Sabrina?” Marinette said slowly, looking around the room, “...Is Chloé here?”

They nodded, “Yep! She’s going to be watching!”

Marinette grimaced. Great, now she had to worry about Chloé judging her too. She shook her head, “I… didn’t know you were interested in fencing?”

“I thought it’d go well with my self defense training. It should be fun too! For lots of reasons! Chloé and I roleplay as superheroes sometimes... Well, actually, Chloé’s always Ladybug-” Marinette made a face, but Sabrina didn’t comment on it, “and I used to play the villains. But now that Paon Lilas showed up, I finally have a superhero to play as! …. Anyway, while I researched the sport, I noticed much of his combat style is informed by fencing-” she shifted into a fencing stance, making a few combat poses (which did in fact, remind Marinette of Paon Lilas), “You can tell by the way he moves.”

“You roleplay as… Paon Lilas? Why?” Marinette frowned, crossing her arms, “What about Féline Sombre? They’re cool.”

Sabrina straightened their posture, smiling almost nervously, “...You think Féline Sombre’s cool?” she shook her head, “I, uh, do too... but... I uh- I... Paon Lilas matches my color scheme! Blue and purple!”

Marinette sighed, “Of course… Well, good luck Sabrina-” She grabbed a fencing helmet, and dropped it on her head. Marinette yelped, stumbling back, noticing something inside the helmet. Tiki stared at her from inside with wide eyes. After the initial shock, the kwami had to cover her mouth to contain her giggle.

“...You okay Marinette?” Sabrina asked.

She gave Tiki a glance and took the helmet back off to allow Tiki to subtly hide in a better spot. “Yep. Yep, don’t mind me, just- thought a loose hair was a spider for a second…” she pointedly brushed some of her hair away from her face and grinned awkwardly. She ran from the room to get in place with the rest of the prospective students.

“I am the fencing master, Mr. D'Argencourt. Instead of the estimated one open spot, we have two, due to an… unexpected drop out…. The coward,” Mr. D’Argencourt said, flourishing his saber, “So, in order to select the best possible candidates, I will observe the beginners performing a number of attacks on the experienced students,” he gestured to the group of the current students, “Get into position!”

Marinette squeaked as one of the students walked towards her, “Actually, maybe I’m not cut out for this…”

“If you’re worried about why Landon dropped out, it’s because of the akuma attacks, not because of the classes. He and his mom are moving out of Paris,” the fencer explained.

“Oh thank goodness- Oh well, I mean, not for Landon because that must be hard- I- It’s just- I mean, the akumas certainly aren’t great- ” Marinette sputtered. She sighed, and offered her hand, “I’m Marinette.”

The fencer raised his helmet. Adrien smiled, “I know. It’s nice to see you here.”

“Wh-” Marinette’s brows furrowed, “Wait, weren’t you sick? Why are you doing sports?”

He blushed a little and rubbed the back of his neck, “I’ve been feeling better since last week. And, uh, skipping class… wasn’t an option. Don’t worry, I talked to Mr. D’Argencourt beforehand. If I ever raise both of my hands in surrender, it’s because I got dizzy or something, and we’ll stop. He’ll get you rotated with a different partner.”

Marinette nodded firmly, “As long as you’re being safe.”

“Get into position!” D’Argencourt commanded.

Adrien smiled at her and dropped his helmet back over his face. With a quick instruction on her form, Adrien stepped back into his side of the strip, waiting for Marinette to get a hang of what she was doing. They fenced for a while as Adrien explained how saber fencing worked. Eventually, he regretfully had to request a time out.

Marinette pushed her helmet up, “You feeling okay?”

He nodded, pushing his own up, taking in a deep breath of the unrestricted air, “Just winded, I’m gonna get some water and I’ll be good to go for another bout.”

When Adrien returned, the class was bunched together. He easily spotted Chloé in the crowd (being the only person not in fencing gear) and walked next to her. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, Adrikins!” Chloé hugged him, and really, he’d rather not have had the air squeezed out of him at the moment, but resigned himself to it anyway. “This kid in red showed up and says they’re the best fencer everywhere they’ve been- but don’t worry, they’re obviously not as good as you.”

He raised a brow but said nothing.

“All right!” D’Argencourt exclaimed to the newcomer, “I may consider your admission, shall you defeat one of my students.”

The fencer in red strode forward, “Which one of you is the best combatant?” the fencer demanded. The crowd parted, and Adrien found himself alone in the center. He glanced towards Marinette, who gave him an awkward thumbs up.

D’Argencourt gestured to the primary fencing strip, “Adrien, please give our visitor a lesson in chivalry.”

He halfway suspected D’Argencourt had entirely forgotten he wasn’t at his best, but, if everyone thought he was the best here, who was he to disappoint? He nodded, “Yes sir.”

Chloé could care less about fencing. It’s all sweaty and involves clashing and clanging metal together. But, it's her Adrien's sport, and Sabrina seemed to think it was fun too. Least she could do was watch in support. With Marinette’s incessant questions and the answers other students were giving, Chloé could somewhat follow the bout. Really, who did this random red rouge think they were? Trying to take her Adrikin’s place as the best fencer in the Academy?

“Uhhh… Abstention!” D’Argencourt called. The fencers returned to their starting line.

Adrien pulled his helmet up to breathe, and looked up at the fencer in red, brows furrowed in determination. He dropped the helmet back over his face.

“Tired yet?” The fencer taunted.

“Just getting started,” Adrien called back, straightening his stance.

“... Shall I request we do this the old fashioned way then?” they turned to D’Argencourt, “We'll be much more at ease without the machine.”

D’Argencourt considered it, “Adrien?”

He smiled behind his helmet, “Fine with me.”

Chloé focused on each move and clash and blow. Freed of their attachments, the fencers moved with agility and panache. Jumping, spinning, clashing. Some boring person muttered “Aren’t they supposed to stay on the strip?” The fencers raced up the stairwell and Chloé made her way to the front to watch them closely. Chloé didn’t pay much attention to the fact that Marinette was the only other person who had kept up with the fight. Nor did she pay attention to the fact that Sabrina had been clearing her path among the crowd before.

The fencer would lunge, Adrien would parry. Adrien feinted a step and pulled back, drawing them in, and the fencer would leap out of the way of his counterattack. Blades clashed and clamored. Adrien knocked the fencer through the doors of the Library. Marinette stood in front of the opened doors as the pair fought, watching intently.

“Out of my way,” Chloé huffed, shoving Marinette to take her spot in watching the pair fight. She yelped as a book cart was sent her way and she narrowly jumped out of the way, “Hey!”

Neither fencers paid any attention. (Which, ouch, really? Is she not important enough here?)

“Let’s finish this!” the red-clad fencer announced, and they both lunged. Chloé blinked and both sabers were being pulled away from the other fencer’s chest.

The fencers turned to look at Chloé. “Who got the first hit?!” The figure in red demanded, “Who?”

Adrien pulled off his helmet and rubbed the spot he’d been hit, grimacing slightly.

“Er…” Chloé frowned and the group finally caught up to them, whispering curiosities. “Adrien?”

“Wait, you’re not even one of my students….” D’Argencourt noted, “Are you sure?”

Chloé huffed, tilting her head up, "Of course! And I'm sure my father, the Mayor, would love to explain to you why I’m right~” she side stepped closer and lowered her voice, “You already lost the election to him, do you really wanna lose your job as well?"

Adrien frowned. “Actually, I think they touched me first,” Adrien said, turning to D’Argencourt.

“Er- Referee has the last word!” D’Argencourt exclaimed, “This victory is… certainly an honor to the D’Argencourt Academy!” He chuckled nervously as Chloé grinned.

Adrien frowned and watched as the fencer walked away and thrust their saber into the ground. “I’m going to offer them a decisive match,” he said, and raced after them.

“Hey! Adriekins, why are you following them? You won!” Chloé sighed and followed him, rolling her eyes.

Adrien pulled the fencer’s sword from the ground and ran towards the fencer’s car. “Wait! Your saber!”

Chloé raced down the entrance, “Come on Adrikins, you won, what’s this...” she halted as she looked up. The red clad fencer removed their helmet and…well she was unfairly pretty. Dark hair and dark eyes and a dusting of freckles like stardust on her cheeks... “About…”

Adrien continued forward anyway, “Let’s do a, er, decisive match?” Adrien offered, smiling.

“Like she said-” The fencer said, gesturing to Chloé, “You won. There’s no such thing as second chances in my family. Goodbye.” She turned and got into the car.

“Hey! What’s your…” The car door slammed and the car drove off. “...name.” He frowned and glanced down at the red saber.

Chloé shook him. “Who was that? I must know immediately.”

He sighed, watching the car retreat into the distance. “Well… I saw her ring, it reminded me of something... Give me a second-” He grabbed his phone and looked up the imagery of the ring.

“Oh curse the passage of time,” D’Argencourt grumbled, “We will finish the last rounds of candidate selection next Thursday. Er, you four-” He pointed at Marinette, Sabrina, and two other students, “You’re in for the last rounds. Everyone else, farewell, no need to return,” he waved the group of prospective students away and the group dispersed.

Sabrina was suddenly next to Marinette. Marinette yelped as she noticed the other teen so close. “You’re in the last bracket! That’s awesome!”

Marinette raised a brow, “Uh… Thank you. Congrats to you too.”

They smiled, “Yeah! I’m super excited!” she bounced in place, “I can’t wait to master the blade.”

Somewhere outside, Chloé screamed.

Sabrina gasped, “Chloé! I’ve gotta check on her!” Sabrina ran off, brow furrowed in determination.

Marinette frowned and ran off in another direction, finding somewhere to transform. Chloé’s screams usually meant akumas.

“Adrien!” Chloé cried out as the akumatized villain pointed their sword at him. Adrien was on the ground, holding the red handled saber against Riposete’s sword.

“I’m taking you up on your offer for a decisive match!” Riposte exclaimed.

Adrien strained against the sword. He gave up and rolled out from under her. “I can’t fight you like this!”

“Fight!” she demanded with another slash. Féline Sombre tumbled in and knocked the sword away with her staff.

“Hey now, play nice,” Féline said, shifting to get in front of Adrien.

“I’m not playing,” Riposte said, “I will show you all just who the greater swordsman is!”

Adrien groaned and scrambled to a stand, moving through a blur of dots in his vision, only to run into someone. Strong hands balanced him. “Careful,” Ladybug said.

“She’s after my Adrikins!” Chloé explained to Ladybug, hiding behind a pillar, “You need to protect him!”

“I can protect my-” his body decided this was a perfect time to betray him. He stumbled and coughed. ...Probably too much exertion today.

Riposte knocked Féline Sombre back, and rushed towards Adrien and Ladybug. Ladybug wrapped her yoyo around Riposete’s sword and yanked. Riposete’s arm was pulled away from Adrien, but the yoyo slipped off.

“It’s fused to her hand?” Ladybug exclaimed.

Féline Sombre got back up and vaulted towards Adrien and Ladybug.

“I guess you can’t dis-arm her!" Féline Sombre chuckled awkwardly.

"Puns? Seriously?" Ladybug shook her head, “Féline, get Adrien somewhere safe, I'll keep her occupied.”

"Can do Bug, come on Adrien," Féline grabbed him around the waist and he yelped as they extended their staff into the air and the ground twirled away from him without his input.

Riposte growled under her breath and sliced a pillar and kicked it towards Ladybug. She stumbled back and lassoed the pillar before it could fall into her. Riposte was already bounding off after Féline Sombre. Ladybug sighed and hooked her yoyo on a nearby chimney to follow after.

"I really need somebody who's better at distraction than I am."

Féline Sombre landed on a bridge, gently dropping Adrien. She looked around, "Okay, okay, we're probably far enough to pause and make a plan of action. If she's looking to fight you then hiding might be your best bet, but that could become dangerous if she finds you and you're somewhere you can't escape-"

"No, hiding is great!" Adrien grinned awkwardly, already stepping away. He glanced around for places to transform. "I can do that! I'll just-"

Riposte landed just a few feet away from them before Adrien could run away. "Stand and fight, you coward!"

"I’m not going to fight you like this!” Adrien protested, “You're not yourself! What's the honor in this?"

Riposte lunged forward and he ducked, rolling out of the way. Féline Sombre twirled on their staff and kicked Riposte away.

Riposte growled and slashed the lampposts. Féline Sombre’s eyes widened as the old metal lamps crashed and caged her against the edge of the bridge. They strained against the metal, “Adrien look out!”

Riposte immediately turned to him. She advanced quickly and he scrambled back, automatically shifting into a fencing form, red handled blade in hand. Riposte slashed at his feet, forcing him to leap up onto the edge of the bridge.

Féline Sombre called for their cataclysm. Riposte prepared to strike at him. Féline wouldn’t be able to interfere fast enough. He knew it.

“If you really are Paon Lilas, transform, Adrien,” Hawkmoth muttered under his breath, brows furrowed in concern. Because if he didn’t, what did that mean? His son was in danger and he put him there. Does he have to hope for yet another failure? Is it a failure if his son is safe? He practically growled under his breath, pushing such things out of his mind. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

Adrien closed his eyes. He jumped. Riposte’s sword crashed on brick. Wind whipped around him. He held his breath and splashed into the water below.

It was cold. His lungs were already protesting. He opened his eyes and spotted a red figure dive in after him. Ladybug’s arm wrapped around him, securing him as she pulled him up and secured her yoyo to land. He hacked on coughs as soon as they breached the water.

Ladybug dropped him on the ground and he groaned.

"You're kinda reckless, aren't you?" Ladybug noted with some sort of half smile on her face.

His lungs hated him. He wheezed with a cough, "I trusted Féline Sombre not to leave me."

Ladybug frowned at him briefly. She glanced towards the bridge as Riposte looked down at the waters below. Féline Sombre gave Ladybug the quickest of a wave, and she ran out of sight, presumably to detransform.

"Come on," Ladybug said. She picked him up (really these superheroes have got to stop doing that, it's making his vision blur) and bounded away.

"What about Féline Sombre?" Adrien exclaimed, closing his eyes and tightening his grip on Ladybug’s shoulders to keep the dizziness from overwhelming him.

"They'll be back, we need you somewhere safe before Riposte figures out you're not in the water." Ladybug landed and gently put him on the ground. He looked around, finding she had brought them to a park.

He coughed more, shaking from the wind-whipped, damp, cold settling in his bones. Ladybug frowned at him again strangely.

"How are you doing? ...You seem ill."

He forced a smile, "Just the after effects of my little dive I think. I'll be fine."

Her expression changed strangely yet again and she nodded, “Okay…” she looked around and nodded to herself, “here,” she grabbed Adrien’s hand and tugged him towards a statue, “Hide behind here. I’ll uh, come get you when we deakumatize Riposte.”

Adrien nodded and watched as Ladybug dashed to the edges of the park, activating the phone in her yoyo. “Duusu,” he whispered, “we should help them-”

“You’re sick,” Duusu said, coming up and pushing against his cheek, “I’m sure Ladybug and Féline Sombre can handle it from here, right?”

Adrien frowned, glancing back towards where Ladybug was talking to Féline Sombre on the phone. “Maybe…” he muttered, “but it’s also the easiest way to get Adrien out of the way while still doing something, right?”

“You’re not in the way,” Duusu whispered.

Adrien grumbled anxiously, watching from behind the statue.

“She’s coming your way, bye Bug!” Féline Sombre exclaimed as they ended the call.

“Bye Kitty,” Ladybug searched for the silvery akuma with a frown. “Hm, better safe than sorry- Lucky Charm!” Ladybug called. The charm produced a metal wireframe chair. She tilted her head. “A...chair. Am I supposed to sit around for Riposte to come attack Adrien?”

Riposte dove in, sword aimed, and Ladybug yelped as she tumbled out of the way.

“Where did you hide him?” Riposte demanded, flourishing her weapon.

“You think I’d tell you?” Ladybug scoffed, briefly glancing to where Féline Sombre was inching forward. Hidden. Waiting for an opening. “This is just between us. Unless you’re scared to test your mettle against me?”

Riposte huffed, turning her full attention to Ladybug, “Oh? I’ll defeat you swiftly and then I’ll take your miraculous!” Riposte lunged and Ladybug twirled to block with the chair, gasping as she noticed the sword slip between the backrest supports. Riposte was too fast however, and the sword slipped back out before she could do anything about it.

Féline Sombre vaulted in on her staff and kicked Riposte from behind, into the park fence. They shifted into a fencing stance, staff aimed like a sword, “You wanted some fencing, right?”

“Who told you all these puns?” Ladybug frowned, glancing at her redheaded partner.

“Would you be mad if I said all the puns is because I’m kinda missing Paon Lilas’s jokes?”

Ladybug made a face, “What? No, but-”

“Your face says otherwise!” Féline Sombre exclaimed, chuckling.

“Oh hush!” Riposte exclaimed as she lunged towards Féline. Féline Sombre used her staff to block the sword and shifted to get behind her.

“So Bug, what’s our plan?” Féline asked, extending her staff to hit Riposte again. They twirled out of the way of the counterattack.

“The sword!” Ladybug said, “That’s got to be where the akuma is. But she’s too fast!”

Adrien frowned, “I- I can’t just watch. Duusu-” he was caught off by a cough.

Riposte huffed and leaped out from the middle of Ladybug and Féline Sombre, skidding backwards. She turned her head to the sound of a cough. “Of course,” she sent a slash through the statue.

Ladybug gasped, “Adrien!”

Adrien dropped to the ground, then leaped up over the broken base of the statue. He tightened his grip on the fencing sword, frowning towards Riposte. “You want a fight? Fine. Let’s fight.”

Riposte grinned, “Finally.” She lunged and he doubled back, towards Ladybug and Féline Sombre.

Ladybug looked between the fighters and Féline Sombre and ran forward to meet them, smiling. “Féline, I’m gonna need your ribbon soon.” Adrien continued to retreat and block.

The cat hero tilted their head briefly but pulled the ribbon off. Féline Sombre moved in around Riposte’s other side.

With the heroes in the right positions, Adrien drew in another attack from Riposte and called, “Ready?!” He twirled, switching positions with Ladybug. Féline Sombre came around with the ribbon and secured the sword into the metal bars of the chair’s backrest. They ran and tugged backwards to keep it secure as Riposte struggled in the snare.

“Prêt, Allez!” Adrien and Ladybug announced as they both used their combined weight to snap the sword trapped in the chair’s back.

Ladybug grabbed the back of the chair as Adrien fell into the seat, keep him from falling with the chair. Adrien blinked, “Huh, handy.”

Ladybug smiled at him as she grabbed his arms and pulled him up to a stand.

He looked up and down at her and barely flickered a smile at her. He turned towards Riposte with a frown.

“Wow, impressive fencing,” Féline said.

He shrugged, “I’ve been in fencing since I was really young.”

Ladybug caught and purified the butterfly. “Bye bye little butterfly...” She grabbed the Lucky Charm, frowning towards Adrien, “You didn’t have to do that. You put yourself in danger.”

“What happened?” Kagami muttered, looking up in confusion.

Adrien frowned and glanced down at the ground before shaking his head, ignoring Ladybug in favor of the fencer. Ladybug sighed and called for her miracle cure.

He leaned down to the fencer and offered a hand. “You were akumatized,” he said softly, “It’s… a… whole thing. It’s fine now though.”

Ladybug walked over to Féline Sombre. They high-fived and smiled at each other.

“Hey, Adrien,” Ladybug said, “...take care of yourself…” she smiled, and waved as her miraculous beeped, “Bug out!”

Féline Sombre waved goodbye to Ladybug and turned towards the two civilians, “Do either of you need a lift home?”

“I have a chauffeur,” Kagami said.

“Same,” Adrien chuckled awkwardly.

Féline shrugged, “Alright! In that case, I should probably head out too. See you later!” She vaulted away and Adrien turned back to Kagami.

“So…” Adrien muttered.

“Listen I-” she sighed and glanced at the ground.

“I’m sorry” both teens said.

Adrien laughed and offered the saber, “Here’s your saber back… Maybe, uh, we could do a proper rematch?”

She shook her head, pushing it back towards him. “No, I lost. Keep it.”

“Chloé really doesn’t know anything about fencing. I personally think it was your point. Besides… red’s not really my color.”

“She certainly acted like she knew.”

“She can be… enthusiastic, she just… she means well, just goes about things wrong.” Adrien sighed and shrugged, “but I… I think- If you want, we could uh, be friends?”

She looked almost shocked, “You… You want to be my friend?”

“Of course! I- Here, let’s start over-” Adrien huffed a smile and offered his hand, “My name’s Adrien. What’s yours?”

She paused, glancing between his face and his hand. She took the offered hand and shook it. “Kagami.”

“Nice to meet you, Kagami.”

“...Yeah. Nice to meet you too, er, Adrien,” she smirked, “You better get ready for that decisive match.”

He laughed, “Oh, I will.”

Fencing swords clashed. One fencer lunged, and the other spun and hit. The buzzer sounded.

“Point!” D’Argencourt called, “Sabrina Raincomprix, welcome to the academy!”

Sabrina pulled up her mask and smiled at Marinette as she disconnected herself from the buzzer cord. Marinette raised her mask up with a sigh. They saluted with their sword and Marinette did the same.

“Good game,” Marinette muttered with a sigh, preparing for whatever mocking she would receive.

“You did awesome! It was a close game, you almost had me there."

Marinette raised a brow. "Uh. Thanks?"

Sabrina sighed, "It's really too bad there's only two spots, I was looking forward to sparring more with you. Next time there's an open spot you should definitely try again."

"I… you really think so? Chloé would've hated seeing me outside class on a weekly basis."

"I- I’m not Chloé’s clone, I... don’t hate you. I’m...sorry if I’ve ever made it seem like that," they sighed, and offered a hand, "Seriously. Good game, Marinette."

She smiled awkwardly and accepted the handshake. "Same to you, Sabrina."

Marinette walked into the equipment room and Tiki zipped out.

"You did great, even if you didn't get in. You can always practice on your own or get Adrien to help again!" Tiki cheered.

Marinette sighed and nodded, "True. ...I think that fencer- Kagami? and Sabrina wanted it more anyway. I wouldn't change a thing… and… Sabrina was weirdly nice."

"Without Chloé around she seems much more open."

"Yeah, I guess. ...Actually- huh. I guess they've never exactly been outright antagonistic… I guess I just… associate her with Chloé that much…" Marinette shook her head, "Weird."

#adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #sabrina raincomprix #kagami tsuguri #ml tiki #ml duusu #miraculous ladybug #miraculous swap #ml ladybug #black cat!sabrina #peacock!adrien #fly away fic #paon lilas au #fanart's fanfic

19 notes · View notes

noctuaas · 4 years ago

Text

AS YOU WISH

synopsis; in this tale of romance, revenge, and treason, you, a beautiful commoner, are set to become the princess of aobajousai. will your one true love be able to save you in time?

pairing; kuroo tetsurou x reader

content; princess bride au (heavily based on both the movie and novel), medieval au, torture, mild violence, drama, fantasy/adventure, murder, minor character death, fem!reader

fic navigation

02 ; THE GROOM

PRINCE OIKAWA WAS A MAN of great renown. There wasn’t a person in Aobajohsai that couldn’t recognize him in one swift glance; he walked through the kingdom with a swing in his dainty hips, which contrasted his mighty barrel thighs and broad, sinewy shoulders. His steps were surprisingly soft, and if he wanted to become a ballet dancer, he would probably find surprising success. But Oikawa didn’t want to be a ballet dancer. He wasn’t even in much of a rush to be king (considering he practically ran the kingdom anyway, what with his mother and father being too old and senile to do it themselves). Everything took second place in his affections, save for one thing.

Tracking was his love.

He made it a habit to never let more than a few days go by without tracking something down or training his hounds. It started when he was a young boy, with his parents’ two Irish Wolfhounds—off he would go with them, chasing rabbits through fields to add the stew that the palace cook was making for supper. Before long, he started studying other tracking sports, from fox hunting to coonhunting to even scenting out other humans, and became a talented tracker in each field. Once he was determined, once he focused on a target, the Prince was relentless.

For a while, Prince Oikawa traveled the world, acquiring hounds from the most prestigious lineages and persuading masterful hunters to mentor him. As his skill increased, he took to training and breeding his own dogs, creating Aoban pedigrees that had a name in and of themselves. Unfortunately, travelling consumed time, and the time away from Aobajohsai became increasingly worrying. Oikawa’s father was growing old, and as the only male heir to the throne, it eventually became time for the Prince to return home.

Instead, he took to roaming the Aoban countryside on weekends, accompanied by Count Iwaizumi on the horses he trained. (The Count always was a better horseman than the Prince.) Sometimes they paid visits to the far corners of the kingdom, but more often they stuck to day trips near the castle.

Prince Oikawa was walking out of the barn, two horses in hand, in preparation for one of these trips when news of his father’s health taking a turn made its ultimate intrusion. The sun hadn’t been up long, dew still heavy on the grass, when Count Iwaizumi made his appearance.

“There you are!” the Prince chided him, “You’re running behind, you know?”

(Other nobles of Aobajohsai might have gotten in trouble for such tardiness, but the Count was an exception. After he and the Prince grew up side by side, Iwaizumi was the only person that could raise his voice or lay a hand on Oikawa without consequence.)

“There is news,” Iwaizumi did not bother apologizing.

“Of?” Oikawa handed off the Count’s horse.

“I have the report of your father’s annual physical.”

A pregnant pause.

“He’s dying.”

Prince Oikawa sighed, a frown creasing his otherwise flawless cheeks. He wasn’t surprised by this news—the king’s health had been questionable for years now—but it certainly wasn’t how he would like to have started his morning.

“Well, I guess it’s about time I get married then, huh?”

“Looks to be that way, sire.”

Four of them met in the great council room of the castle: Prince Oikawa, his greatest confidante, Count Iwaizumi, his father, the aging King, and his evil stepmother, the Queen.

(She wasn’t really evil. In fact, she was actually one of the most beloved people in the kingdom, and had been married to the King since long before he began mumbling. Prince Oikawa had been but a child then, and since the only stepmothers he knew of were the mean ones from fairy tales and bedtime stories, he had decided she must be evil.)

“Alright,” the Prince began once they had all been assembled. “I must marry soon, so we have to pick a bride for me.”

“Yes,” the King said, “I’ve been thinking it was about time we found you a bride.”

(In actuality, he mostly just mumbled it, like, “Yesss, I’ve beennn thumbleee about temmmm wefumbbble bridddde.”)

“You couldn’t be more right, dear,” the Queen patted the King’s shoulder. She was the only person that could decipher his words during these little episodes.

“What did he say?”

“He said whoever we decide on will be getting a wonderfully handsome prince for a lifetime companion,” the Queen replied.

“Ah, well thank you, Father. You’re looking quite well yourself,” Oikawa chuckled back.

“It’s the new miracle maker, I’m sure of it,” the King piped in, wiggling a finger. (It came out mumbled again: “I’ssss the nmumble mumble.”)

“What did he say?”

“He said a man of your importance shouldn’t marry just anyone.”

“I suppose,” Prince Oikawa rested his chin in his hands before sighing.

“What about that Ushijima?” The Queen suggested.

“It would be a good match politically,” Count Iwaizumi admitted, though he knew how much the idea revolted Oikawa.

Prince Ushijima was from Shiratorizawa, the country that lay across the Aoba Channel. (They put it differently in Shiratorizawa; Aobajohsai was the country across the Channel of Shiratorizawa, according to them. The two countries had a history together, spending centuries warring each other. There had been the Rice War, and then the Tuna Fish Discrepancy, which nearly sent both nations into bankruptcy, the Fern Fiasco, which did end up running them fiscally dry, but it was followed by the Great Emerald Boom, during which they both got rich again.)

“He’s a handsome young man, I think we should bring him over for a discussion,” the Queen said. She was always the peacemaker in the royal family, a diplomat through and through.

“No, absolutely not!” cried Prince Oikawa. If it had been any other person, had Ushijima had a sibling or something, perhaps he would have mulled it over, but that wasn’t the case. Oikawa simply could not marry Ushijima.

“There’s no other heirs in any neighboring countries that would benefit us,” Count Iwaizumi reminded him, though he knew it wouldn’t change the Prince’s mind.

“I’ll marry a commoner before I marry that Shiratorizawa filth!”

“Boo, no Shiratorizawa filth!” the King chimed in. (“Booo, numble shumble zumfle!”)

The room quieted for a moment; they seemed to be stuck. Finally, the Count perked up.

“Maybe you can marry a commoner.”

Dead silence again.

“Look, your people have been a bit tense with us nobles the past few years,” the Count continued. “You could bridge the gap by marrying a commoner.”

“A commoner as the princess, what a fun idea!” the King said. (“Commumble as theprimmmble, whumble fum idea!” His words were becoming a tiny bit clearer; he seemed to be coming out of the episode).

“What did he say?” Oikawa still asked.

“Whoever it is must look the part of a noble. They should at least look nice,” said the Queen.

“Of course! I’ll find a commoner so beautiful that when you see them, you stop and stare, and say, ‘Wow, that Prince Oikawa must be some kind of fella to marry someone like that.’ That’s what I’ll do! Search the country, no, search the world!”

Count Iwaizumi furrowed his brow in thought.

“No, I think she is already found,” he said. An uncharacteristic smile crossed his face.

The next day at dawn, the two young noblemen reined in their horses at the hilltop by your farm. Iwaizumi rode a massive black gelding, stout and bulging with muscles. Prince Oikawa rode one of his whites, leaner and elegant. His mare made Iwaizumi’s mount seem like a lowly plow puller.

“She delivers milk from her family’s farm to the market square in the mornings,” Count Iwaizumi told him.

“And she’s truly-not-a-shadow-of-a-doubt-without-question beautiful?” Oikawa asked.

“You calling me a liar?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” Oikawa chuckled.

“She was something of a mess when I saw her,” admitted the Count, still grinning in amusement. “But she was still one of the most beautiful people I have laid eyes on.”

From the bottom of the hill, you appeared, turning your horse (whose name now seems quite ironic) onto the path to the farm. Even from this distance, Oikawa knew Iwaizumi was right.

“I must court my princess, now.”

“Good luck,” the Count teased, unknowing that the Prince might actually need it.

And so the Prince rode on, maneuvering his horse quite expertly down the hill until he was at your side.

You blinked curiously when he approached. You had never seen such a man, riding such a brilliantly shiny horse and wearing such extravagantly crafted clothes.

“Are you Miss (y/n)?”

“I am. Who’s asking?”

“Your prince,” Oikawa grinned a dazzling grin. “I’ve come to ask for your hand in marriage.”

Marriage? You continued riding, with one eyebrow quirked incredulously.

“I’m sorry, sire, but I refuse.”

“You can’t refuse.”

“I just did.”

“But refusal could mean treason, and treason means death,” explained a very confused Prince.

“Kill me then,” you told him.

“But…” the Prince trailed off. For the first time in his life, he was left dumbfounded. Speechless. Shellshocked. He had not been prepared to be turned down, not even slightly.

“But I’m your Prince! And—” Oikawa was beginning to stumble over his words. “And I’m not that bad. How could you rather be dead than married to me?”

“It’s nothing personal, sire,” you soothed his ego. “But marriage involves love, and love has never been particularly kind to me, so I’m sworn to never love again.”

Prince Oikawa’s brows furrowed, creasing his otherwise flawless forehead.

“Love? Who said anything about love?” he said. “Look, here’s the deal. There must always be a male heir to the throne of Aobajohsai. Once my father dies, there will only be a king: me. All I ask is that you marry me so that I can provide a new heir to the throne.”

You stared at him silently.

“You’ll get to be the richest and most powerful woman in the country, and give away turkeys at Christmas and meet people from foreign countries. You could even provide us nobles insight to better help commoners like yourself. So won’t you be my wife?”

You paused again, looking back over at your family’s humble little house. Your father was growing older, and milking the cows everyday was becoming difficult with his aching joints.

“I won’t ever love you.”

“If that is what you wish,” Prince Oikawa said.

“Then by all means, let us marry.”

#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu fanfiction #hq fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenario #hq x reader #hq imagine #hq scenario #kuroo #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo x reader #kuroo fanfiction #kuroo imagine #kuroo scenario #my writing

89 notes · View notes

eryiss · 4 years ago

Text

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Prompt: Soulmates

Summary: THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM. A week-long experience guaranteed to find you your soulmate. Laxus had dismissed it as nothing but crap, and brought himself a ticket to prove it. It would have gone well, if it weren’t for the handsome guy running the program who kept catching his eye.

Notes: This was written as part of Fraxus Week 2021, as always hosted by @fuckyeahfraxus. Check out their blog to see all the other content.

Links: Event Masterlist ||| Archive of Our Own, Fanfiction

THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM

Year: 2055

Location: Tokyo, Japan

"Laxus Dreyar," A robotically cheerful voice echoed through the room. "Please step into the preparation area."

Rising quickly, Laxus strode through the reception room and towards the door that had lit up. The animated emoticon projected onto the wall followed him as he walked, and the glass door shimmered out of existence as he approached. Once through the archway, the glass flickered back into place, and the emoticon went back to its unanimated state. So far, Laxus had yet to be impressed by THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM.

It claimed to be an experience that will end up matching an attendee with their soulmate. You paid your fee, gave up a week of your life, trusted in the system that it would work, and supposedly you'd end up meeting the love of your life. Laxus was only there to disprove it.

Well, also because Ever had paid for it, and he knew how much it costed. But mainly he went to disprove it.

So far, he'd undergone a full body scan, had his social media accounts interrogated, and submitted a completed questionnaire that covered everything from best first date ideas to how he dealt with the inevitability of death. This was apparently so the algorithm could create a profile for him, and was not reflective of how the program would be. According to the guidebook Laxus had absently flicked through, the morning of the first day was slightly tedious, so to better match him with potential lovers. It all seemed stupid – as far as Laxus was concerned, romance was born out of coincidence and chemistry, not a list of things you liked and didn't like – but he was willing to undergo it all just to prove how it was a waste of money.

Each day, he would go on an 'Experience' with a match. It was a simulation of a first date, purpose built to the two people's shared interests. Some people went on candle lit dinners, some people went into an escape room, some people were stranded in the middle of the ocean with only each other for company. Every experience was tailored to the participants.

At least it would be interesting.

Laxus walked down the corridor, following the neon arrows that pointed him to another shimmering glass door. The pretentious modernism of the building was obvious, and it showed off every ridiculous advancement in technology in the most frivolous ways. It couldn't be a more obvious money-making scheme if it tried.

As he walked through the door, he saw a man standing at a podium. His date, perhaps.

Well, if that was the case, they at least knew his type.

Tall, long legs with some obvious lean bulk to them. Well dressed, in clothing that clearly was trying to highlight his physique but not in an obvious way. His face, looking down at the tablet attached to the podium, was sharp and angular, with high cheek bones and a slightly jutting chin. A mole rested below one of his vibrant eyes, and a long main of flowing green hair hung down to his waist. He was hot and Laxus grinned; at least he would spend a bit of time with a sexy guy.

As Laxus approached, the man looked up with a polite smile. He didn't make a move towards him, as Laxus expected, and continued to tap on the tablet before him. The lights gained a bright blue and the small room illuminated itself.

"You must be mister Dreyar," The man said in lieu of a greeting.

"Yeah, nice to meet ya," Laxus nodded, stepping forward and offering the man a hand to shake. He took it; he had a good grip on him. "Guess you're my date for the evening."

"Ah, I'm afraid not," The man denied, and Laxus frowned a little. "I work here, I'll be overseeing your simulations throughout the week as part of a quality control test. You'll meet the man who you've been set up with in the simulation itself."

"Thought the system was supposed to be automated?" Laxus asked, retracting his hand, and taking a step back.

"It is. A few times a year someone is called to watch over, to make sure it's as streamlined as possible," The man looked back down to his tablet again and began typing, and a small bubbling of curiosity grew in Laxus. Nothing he'd act on, but the face of concentration on the man was an attractive one. "I'm surprised you weren't informed beforehand; I must admit. It's in the contract you signed that this could happen, but the company does like to warn people before things begin."

"It ain't a big deal," Laxus shrugged, looking around the small room. "I ain't really sure how this part of the process works, so maybe you could help. I didn't catch yer name, either."

"Freed Justine," The man introduced himself, smirking ever so slightly. "In a moment you'll walk through those doors," he motioned to the aforementioned doors, "and the simulation will begin. Your date will walk through another set of doors, and you'll meet then. We like to have dates meet for the first time mid-way through a simulation, as it feels more natural than meeting beforehand. Once you've spoken for a while, the activity of the simulation can begin."

"How do I know what the 'activity' is?"

"It's normally fairly obvious. If you were, for example, white water rafting, you'd be placed on a dock with a boat already attached to the rapids," Freed explained, looking up from the tablet again. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

Laxus would have rather known what he was getting into before it happened, he felt like it would give him an advantage. He couldn't dwell on that, though, as the floor below him lit up. Pulses of light seemed to guide him to a corner of the room, where an odd glass cylinder stood. Clearly they were informing him that he was to get inside the cylinder and, after a nod from Freed, he did as he was instructed.

The cylinder closed as he stepped in, and a flicker of nervousness dwelled inside of him as the glass seemed to seal itself shut. He glanced towards Freed, who gave him a short smile, before a flash of light erupted from above. It only lasted a moment, and Laxus took a second to understand what had happened.

His clothing had changed. Where once he wore an outfit he saw as worthy for a date, he now wore a tee-shirt, shorts, and sneakers.

"The hell?" He murmured under his breath.

"That's the outfit that best fits what kind of date you'll be having," Freed explained as the glass unsealed and Laxus could step out. "Partly it's to better round out the simulation, but I think it's mainly so we don't get sued for property damage should your actual clothes get stained or damaged."

"How romantic," Laxus murmured, before looking down at himself. "Am I having a date in a gym or something?"

"Yes, actually. One of your shared interests is combat sports, so you'll be placed in a boxing arena," Freed said after looking towards the tablet. He thought for a moment, then frowned. "I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"Glad you did, I like being prepared," Laxus shrugged. "Boxing's hardly romantic, though."

"For the right person, it is," Freed retorted. The lights around the simulation door lit up green, and Freed smiled. "Speaking of the right person, the simulation is ready, so when you're ready please step through. I hope you enjoy your date."

"I'll certainly try," Laxus nodded. "And if I don't, I get to punch the guy."

Freed laughed, and Laxus approached the door and refocused his attention on his goal on disproving the systems worth. He knew that the guy in the simulation wouldn't be his soulmate. If the company was worth it's price, then they would have understood that Freed was a better match for him than some random guy who happened to like to box. Still, once this was over and he'd disproven their complete success claim, he might get Freed's number. It wouldn't be a waste of time.

---

"So he wasn't the love of your life, then?"

That was what greeted Laxus as he walked into the preparation area outside of the simulation. It had been a day since his first date, and Freed stood before his tablet again as if he'd been waiting for Laxus to approach. He probably had.

"Wouldn't be here if he was," Laxus shrugged. "You saw how it went. Hardly compatible."

"I suppose not."

The date itself wasn't awful, in fact it was pretty fun. As Freed had stated, he'd been taken into a simulation of an old-fashioned boxing gymnasium, where he'd met the guy. He wasn't bad looking, and in pretty damn good shape, but they hadn't been destined for a relationship and they both knew it. Though Laxus couldn't say it was time wasted, as they'd exchanged information and said they'd workout together at some point. Laxus had always found it hard to find a spotter who could match his weight, and the guy could certainly do that and more.

"The first dates don't typically be where people settle," Freed continued, tapping at his tablet, perhaps setting up the next simulation. "The first half of the week has a low success rate, honestly. I believe it's mainly collecting information to better inform the matches later in the week, so don't be disheartened."

"I wasn't," Laxus shrugged. "If I'm honest, I don't believe this is real."

"I thought as much," Freed chuckled. "Though you probably shouldn't have told a member of staff that. It might taint my view of you."

"What are you gonna do. Throw me into a simulated volcano?"

"I could," Freed grinned, and it was a pretty nice look on the man. "But the real danger is that you say it to a member of staff who's gone through the program and who met their partner through it. They can get somewhat defensive, and they'll do whatever they can to make you believe it will work, and they'll be rather annoying while doing so. It's something I know from experience."

"You ain't been through it?"

"No, I'm hardly in a rush to find someone," Freed shrugged a little. "I believe that these things will happen when they're meant to, so why force them? And yes, before you point it out, it's hypocritical of me to say that while working here."

"Never been tempted?" Laxus asked.

"Of course. I know you don't believe it but I've yet to see someone leave the program without meeting someone they eventually fell in love with."

Freed didn't seem like the kind of guy to say bullshit like that for no reason, and the honesty in his tone didn't feel as though he was parroting a line from a corporate memo, so maybe he did believe it. Admittedly Laxus hardly knew Freed, so he couldn't make too many judgments about his person, but the fact he seemed to believe that this could find him true love was a little intimidating. A pragmatist like Freed – that's what Laxus thought him to be, anyway – wouldn't say that if he didn't believe it.

A horrible thought suddenly hit Laxus. He might actually find someone who he might fall in love with. That was… worrying.

"You won't need to change clothes today, your date won't require it," Freed said, looking up from his tablet again.

"Good to know," Laxus nodded, trying to ignore the nervousness that was filling him. "You gonna tell me what I'm doing?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "For all we know, if I didn't tell you yesterday, the date might have been entirely different."

"Nah, I don't think so," Laxus chuckled, walking towards the podium Freed was standing behind and leaning on it. He grinned at the man, who looked up at him for a moment before averting his eyes. "Tell me, I'll complain about you to yer manager if you don't."

"What a horrible threat," Freed said sardonically, though he did look down at his tablet again. "It's a fairground with a circus performance at the end. And apparently your date is something of a gymnast, and so there's a high chance that he'll get on stage and perform for you."

"Is that gonna be impressive or is it gonna make me wanna claw my eyes out?" Laxus laughed.

"He's a professional athlete, so I suspect the former," Freed grinned a little.

They chatted for a few minutes more, and eventually the lights around the door lit up again and guided him towards his second date. Laxus pushed off from the podium he was still leaning on, ignoring the teasing comment that he should adjust his posture if he wanted to impress his future husband, and walked through the door and into the simulation of an outdoor fairground. As he crossed the threshold, he didn't notice how his nerves had disappeared completely.

---

"I'm startin' to think your program ain't as good as you're saying it is."

Laxus spoke as he walked into the preparation area, and Freed looked up with a small grin on his face as he approached. Laxus had the slightest falter in his step as he saw that Freed had his hair tied up in a high ponytail, rather than using the low band he'd had on the two previous days. Seriously, the simulation had matched him with two random men and not the beauty before him and yet still claimed to be the best matchmaking system in history. Ha.

His second date hadn't been bad, exactly. The guy was hot in his own way – and someone with a scene/punk interest would have been all over him – and he was entertaining the entire time. But he was a little too much for Laxus. Constantly wiggling eyebrows and euphemisms. Good for the right guy, but not for Laxus.

"We're still collecting data, every date is an improvement on the last," Freed waved off the complaint. "For example, you seemed to enjoy the games you were playing, so a bit of friendly competition is something you'll like in a relationship," Laxus had to admit, someone who could challenge him was a turn on, so the system had gotten that right about him. "That's certainly been taken into account for this date."

The way he'd said the last sentence, with a hint of amusement and restrained laughter, made Laxus nervous. He didn't push the topic, partially out of fear.

"We'll see how confident you are when the week's over and I've turned everyone down," Laxus shrugged.

"You're determined for this to fail for you, aren't you?" Freed asked with amusement, and Laxus didn't deny it, instead choosing to shrug. "Is that why you're here, do you see yourself as the man to take the system down and prove how much of a scam it is? Because we've had literally hundreds of people try that and we've yet to have an unsatisfied customer."

"How do I know they've not been silenced?" Laxus joked, grinning as he walked closer to Freed. "Or worse, you killed 'em, blended their bodies up and sold it as a health drink or something?"

"Because we're not in a poorly written young adult novel?" Freed chuckled. "We actually just burn the corpses, it's much less messy."

"Knew it," Laxus laughed. "You gonna tell me what you're gonna put me through today?"

"Absolutely not," Freed grinned. "And I won't move on that today. Because nothing is going to please me more than seeing your reaction to it."

"Why, it's not weird is it?" Laxus frowned, looking concerned now.

"It depends on your definition of weird, I suppose," Freed smirked, and if it weren't such an attractive expression on the man then Laxus might have taken issue with it. "I'll simply say, I expect it's weighted slightly more towards what your date will enjoy rather than what you're going to enjoy."

"Or you could just tell me what's gonna happen," Laxus prompted, and Freed shook his head.

"You'll require an outfit change."

Laxus sighed a little, apparently the topic was to be dropped. He walked to the glass pod in the corner of the room and allowed it to close behind him, and he turned to look at Freed in expectation. Freed pressed something on the tablet and the light flash of light filled the cylinder a moment later, the same chill running over him as his clothing was replaced.

When he saw his reflection, Laxus found himself more confused than anything. He was only wearing swimming trunks and a large life-preserver. He could swim fine, so didn't know what the hell the point of that thing was, and turned to Freed again in confusion.

Freed, who had apparently been looking at him, immediately turned away, and Laxus could see his cheeks redden.

Huh. Had Freed been checking him out.

"You really not gonna let me know why I need to wear this?" Laxus asked, stepping out of the pod, and lifting one side of the life-preserver. Freed looked back to him, pointedly looking only at his face, cheeks still covered with the slightest dusting of a blush. Laxus wanted to focus on that, and maybe flex his abs to see if he got a reaction, but instead spoke again in a jovial tone. "You know if I drown in a simulation, I'm gonna get a lawyer right?"

"I doubt that will happen," Freed said, seemingly forcing himself to shake off the blush. "It's just a precaution."

"You wanna tell me what it's a precaution against?" Laxus probed.

"No," Freed grinned again. The lights above the door lit up, and Freed's grin widened. "And it seems you'll be finding out now."

Laxus wanted to push the topic more and find out what he was going to endure, and he very nearly ignored the flashing green lights and did just that. He almost did, if it weren't for the fact that he also wanted to take off the life preserver and give Freed an unhindered view of his chest to see what happened, so he clearly wasn't in the right mind to be making decisions. He was trying to disprove love could be found in this place, flirting with the guy was hardly helping his argument.

As he had the previous two times, Freed wished him luck as he approached the door. Thie time, though, it was tinged with amusement, and Laxus felt a swell of anticipation as he walked through the door.

The simulation was… interesting. It took Laxus a moment to realise he recognised what he was seeing, and a further moment to remember what it was. When he was a kid, his grandfather had watched old reruns of a gameshow: Wipeout. It was a ridiculous set of obstacle courses, where idiot contestants tried to win money but usually ended up looking like assholes, falling into water after being hit by giant mechanisms covered in foam cladding. It was cheap entertainment where the contestants were there to be laughed at, and apparently Laxus was going to be enduring the damn thing.

He turned around quickly, watching as the doors flickered out of existence, Freed's smirk being the last thing he saw.

---

The moment Laxus walked into the preparation room, he was met with a bursting of laughter. He crossed his arms, watching as Freed tried and failed to retain his laughter. It took longer than it should have, and it was tempting to shake the bastard. He would deserve it if he was laughing at what Laxus thought he was laughing at.

"It ain't that funny."

"Oh it truly was."

Laxus grit his teeth. His third date had been the most interesting, that was for sure, but it had also been ridiculous. He'd been forced to go through three stupidly weird obstacle courses, competing against his date, who was a loud-mouthed idiot with stupidly pink hair.

Multiple times, he'd been pushed from the course and into the unnecessarily cold water. The loud cackling from his date seemed to be shot straight into his ears the moment he broke the surface of the water, and the man's amusement at Laxus failing seemed to double each time it happened. During the last round, when he'd been knocked down a slope of gushing water by a barrel of all things, Laxus had to stop himself from swimming over to the man and clocking him on the nose. He'd probably be kicked from the system, so he talked himself out of it and instead put his focus onto winning the game. He had, and the brat annoyingly wasn't bothered at all.

"He was fucking annoying," Laxus muttered as he walked closer to Freed. He leant against the podium again, closing his eyes in exasperation. "Good luck finding him a guy to match with."

"Actually he's on his fifth day here, and everyone other than you said they wanted to match with him," Freed informed him, looking over the tablet. He was being cagey in letting Laxus see the screen surely the next date wouldn't be as bad as the last. "So you're the outlier in the set. He's remarkably easy compared to you."

"Honestly, kinda offended by that," Laxus muttered.

Freed breathed out a laugh, before placing the tablet back onto the podium. Laxus didn't spare it a glance, and instead looked towards the clothes-changing pod to see if he would need a new outfit. Seemingly knowing that, the pod lit up and directed Laxus to enter. With a small sigh, he did.

Once inside, the flash went off and his clothes were replaced by the appropriate outfit. Thankfully, this time he'd been replaced by an actual normal outfit. A dinner suit, perfectly tailored for his body. It was entirely black and white and, while he definitely looked good in it, it wasn't exactly what he would have chosen for himself. He liked his clothes to have at least a splash of colour, and suits could have that in a tasteful way when done right.

"Before you ask, you'll be having dinner today," Freed informed him as he stepped out of the pod. "Fairly simple, but I think that's more than earned. Most people only have one peculiar simulation, you've had nothing but."

"Lucky me," Laxus murmured. "Wanna tell me about the guy?"

"No," Freed shook his head. "Though I should say, it's at this point in the program where the system starts to understand what you're looking for. So it's entirely possible that he might be the person you end up with."

"I doubt it," He rebuffed, glancing at his reflection in the pod.

"Just go in with an open mind, that's all I ask," Freed said, typing on the tablet again. "The gentleman you've been set up with supposedly has a ninety two percent match with the data on you we currently have. There's a good chance that this might go well if you let it."

"You know I wanna disprove this, right?" Laxus grinned. "I ain't gonna help you."

"Well, lets make a deal," Freed smirked. "If you go into your date with an open mind, I'll promise not to put this on YouTube."

Laxus went to ask what, but the lights lowered, and a projection appeared on one of the blank walls. Watching the video, Laxus felt his blood run cold and his body tense, and a glare was soon aimed at Freed for what he'd done. The grin, which could only be described as shit-eating, he got in return only went to further annoy him.

The video was of Laxus' previous date. All the instances of him falling off the course, and into the water, had been put into a montage, with ridiculously obnoxious circus music blaring behind it. Laxus looked like a damn asshole. When the footage slowed down, showing him getting punched in the face by a foam-covered fist, only to lose grip of the handholds and fall face first into a pool of mud, Laxus openly growled.

"Delete this."

"Absolutely not," Freed smirked. "You heard my terms. Give your date a chance and I'll make it disappear. If not, the whole world gets to see you looking like this."

"Yer an asshole, you know that?" Laxus asked, though he couldn't help fighting a grin.

"I do," Freed nodded, and Laxus barked out a laugh. "And your date is ready for you. Have fun."

Laxus waved a hand towards him, walking towards the door and adjusting his jacket as he did so. He supposed he would give this date a chance, just to avoid the humiliation of that stupid video being leaked onto the internet. If it went well, then he'd meet a guy he might be interested in. if it didn't go well, then he could spend the entirety of the next day planning some kind of revenge on Freed for forcing him to endure such a night. That would be fun.

---

The date had been… interesting. Freed was right, the guy had certainly been the closest to someone Laxus would consider getting into a long-term relationship with, and that had somewhat spooked him after the date had ended. He'd been completely certain that he wouldn't meet anyone even close to what he wanted, and hadn't allowed for any deviation from that mindset. Having that belief challenged was worrying.

The guy was smart, silver tongued, and pretty sexy. He wore a suit to perfection, knew all the right things to say, and was flirtatious by nature. Which was all good, and certainly wasn't a turn off, but it wasn't enough for Laxus. He was all too focused on flirting, and didn't show off the other facets of his personality, which Laxus had wanted.

But if he had done that, what then? What if he had a good sense of humour, or was passionate about random things and would happily speak of them for hours? Laxus liked men like that, and his date had been dangerously close to that.

What if he'd gotten Laxus to match with him? What would happen then?

Those thoughts were plaguing his mind as he walked into the preparation room. He hadn't prepared himself for actually meeting someone, certainly not someone he wanted to get serious with. Laxus didn't get serious with guys, he was more of a love them and leave them kind of guy. It was part of the reason he wanted to disprove this place; not everyone was looking to find a guy to settle down with, and Laxus saw himself as one of those people. But the entire selling point of THE S0U1MATE SYSTEM was that it matched people together in relationships that would last.

Who even was he when he was in a relationship? Would he be one of those people who obsessively cleaned their home to impress their partner? Would he have to constantly be thinking about dates and things to do? Would he have to buy the guy flowers? He didn't know how to do that shit. He didn't think he even wanted to do that shit.

"Laxus," Freed asked, cutting through Laxus' growing panic. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sorry, fine," Laxus lied. He didn't say anything else.

Freed didn't push conversation, apparently noticing that Laxus wasn't in the mood for their conversations. Laxus walked to the small sofa that he'd previously ignored, sat down, and listened to the gentle tapping of Freed's fingers against the tablet. He closed his eyes and tried to drown out his thoughts.

He wasn't ready for the date this time, because if they were meant to get better each day, then the guy he'd be matched with next might one day become someone important to him. What if he fucked the date up and the guy didn't wanna match with him? What if the guy was perfect for him and he didn't feel anything? Maybe he'd spent years sleeping around, never being with the same guy for longer than a month, and it'd fucked him up somehow.

"If you'd like to enter the pod," Freed prompted, and Laxus looked up to see the clothing pod lit up.

Doing as he was told, he walked into the pod and waited for his clothes to change. After it happened, he felt that his pants had been replaced by something uncomfortably clingy, and he frowned a little. The frown turned to a grimace when he saw his reflection.

"The fuck?" He demanded.

He was dressed in all green, wearing tights and a slightly sparkling tunic. He looked fucking stupid; even more stupid that he had on the damn Wipeout video. He gaped at his own reflection, not entirely sure what to say. The whiplash from emotional turmoil to embarrassed confusion was overwhelming.

"The fuck!" He repeated.

"You'll apparently be performing as Peter Pan for your next date," Freed informed him, and something close to dread built inside of Laxus' stomach. What the fuck? What the fuck! How the fuck had anyone thought that was something he'd enjoy? Who could think he'd wanna be with someone who wanted him to… to perform on stage while looking like an asshole?

"I fucking am not." He snapped.

"The system states that you'll have a very high matching rate with her," Freed replied, before frowning. Laxus also turned to look at him. "You only wanted to be matched with men, didn't you?"

"That's right," Laxus nodded, voice low. It had set him up with a woman?

Freed looked down at his tablet, face scrunching slightly for a moment as he swiped and tapped at the glass, and Laxus tried not to enjoy the sight. He seemed to understand something, flicked on the screen a few more times, and the pod Laxus had left lit up again. Laxus frowned, looking towards it in confusion before turning his gaze back onto Freed.

"There was a blip in the system. Apparently your date and another man's date were mixed up. If you'd like to step into the pod again it'll give you your actual outfit."

Relief flooded through Laxus. There were certain things that he would have outright refused to do, and making an ass out of himself on a stage, dressed like a glorified pixie was certainly one of them. But the contract he had signed said he was obligated to undergo all simulations if he didn't find a match, as not doing so would harm the reputation of the company unfairly. Would Freed had forced him to do it if he hadn't noticed? Laxus hoped not, but he couldn't be sure.

The new outfit was a lot more simple. It was normal clothing, with a large winter coat and, he realised a moment before he tripped, his shoes had been replaced by ice-skates. He knew how to skate, so it wasn't a problem, and compared to what he'd nearly had to undergo, this was perfect.

"Would I have had to do the fucking performance if you didn't notice it?" He asked.

"I'm sure the system would have picked up the mistake before you went in," Freed dismissed, tapping on the tablet, and lighting the door to the simulation room. "You should go now. Don't want to keep him waiting."

Laxus glanced towards Freed, not commenting on how obvious Freed was being in his dismissal. He walked through the door to see an ice rink empty of everything but one man, who was skating towards him. As Laxus skated towards his date, all he could seem to think of was how much better this was than Peter-Fucking-Pan.

His previous nerves about the date were the last thing on his mind.

---

"So here's the thing," Laxus said as he walked into the prep room. "I think you lied to me yesterday."

"Lied about what?" Freed asked.

"This is supposed to be the most successful, most advanced matchmaking system in the whole world, right? It's unmatched and has years of coding and advancements in technology inside of it, right?" He asked, and Freed nodded. "So it kinda seems a little bit bullshit that it wouldn't understand that a guy who's gay would only wanna go on a date with other guys. Feels like that's one of the basic things it should get right?"

"That would be a fair assumption."

"So, if that's right, then it seems unlikely that it'd just happen to me. Seems even weirder that it'd happen conveniently when there's a guy watching over the sessions to pick up the mistake," Laxus walked towards Freed, maintaining eye contact. "All seems coincidental."

"I suppose it does."

"Yeah, it does," Laxus nodded. "So why don't you admit that you're the reason it happened."

"If you already know, what would me admitting to it do?"

Laxus laughed. He didn't know what he had been expecting when he decided to confront Freed with his realisation, which had happened half way through the date with the guy, but he hadn't thought he'd get an honest admission without a moment's guilt.

He wasn't angry about what Freed had done. If he'd gone on the date wearing the costume then he'd certainly be pissed off, but in reality he'd only worn the stupid clothes for a minute or two, and Freed had quickly replaced them with what he was actually meant to wear. In reality it was just a weird thing that Freed had decided to do for a reason Laxus didn't quite understand.

"You really just wanted me to look like a jackass?"

"No, that was coincidental," Freed admitted. "A happy coincidence, mind you, but not the reason I did it. You clearly had gotten overwhelmed by the possibility that the system might actually work, and you were getting in your own head about it. You needed to be shocked out of your own self-doubts, and it was the easiest way to do it. A simple ice-skating date is hardly a challenge when you've just avoided something ridiculous that you'd never enjoy."

Oh, that was actually kinda nice. Weird, but nice. Not what he expected. It was almost flattering, in a way, that Freed had chosen to help him at all.

Of course he couldn't actually say that. He'd entered the room with a build-up of energy, having expected he would need to force the truth out of him by repeatedly asking him. He had been so certain that it would take their entire time together, and it would end with Freed laughing and Laxus trying to salvage his own pride back. He'd half thought that his costumed self would be edited into the fucking Wipeout video to further add to his embarrassment. A kind, if not slightly odd, action was hardly what he expected.

"So, is it actually automated?" He asked, instead of voicing his thanks because it was the only thing he could think of saying. "Or have you just been saying it is while doing everything yourself."

"No, it's automated, but I can override anything should I want to, which is what I did."

"Show me," Laxus demanded.

Freed nodded, moving slightly so Laxus could stand beside him in front of the tablet. Laxus stood behind him, trying to ignore the fact that this was the closest he'd been to Freed, and he could almost feel the heat radiating off him. It was hardly an appropriate thing to think, particularly when he was going to be on a date with another man damn soon.

He focused on the interface. He saw a quick flash of what his date would be – another meal with a guy – before Freed overrode the system. He pressed a few buttons and ended up controlling the clothing pod. He loaded the program up, and was given a large interface of different outfits, all with pictures to show what they'd look like.

"It's surprisingly user friendly," Freed said, pressing a random outfit and loading it into the system. "Now if you went inside, you'd be wearing that."

"So even I could do it, then?" Laxus asked with a grin, and Freed faltered beside him.

"I suppose."

"What you did for me was pretty nice of ya, but I still ended up like an idiot in a costume because you made me wear it," Laxus mused aloud, and Freed audibly sighed beside him. "So if you think you're getting away without me turning the tables on ya, you're an idiot."

"I probably should have expected that," Freed murmured to himself, and Laxus laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder, and gently guiding him towards the pod. Freed didn't fight him.

"You should have," Laxus agreed, pushing him into the pod before Freed could second guess anything.

He stood at the tablet a moment later, knowing Freed was watching him. He swiped down the hundreds of outfits before inspiration struck him. He pressed the button for the search bar, typed in his idea, looked over the ten or so options before picking the one that looked the most ridiculous. He added it into the system, pressed the apply button, and grinned as the pod flashed with light. A moment later, Freed was revealed, and Laxus burst into laughter.

Freed looked ridiculous. Dressed entirely in an old-fashioned jester's outfit, purple and yellow, with a stupid hat covered in golden bells. He looked at himself in the mirror, crossing his arms unimpressed as Laxus guffawed at him.

"Holy shit," Laxus cackled. "What kinda date would need you to be dressed like that?"

"The system needs to cover all bases," Freed grunted, expression showing annoyance, but Laxus felt like a smile wanted to break through when the bells on his hat jingled. "Can I have my own clothes back, please?"

"We've got a couple minutes before the sim starts, that's enough time to have fun," Laxus grinned, scrolling through the recommended costumes. He found one, applied it to the pod and activated it.

A moment later, Freed was dressed as a circus clown, and Laxus spluttered into laughter all over again.

"Very mature," Freed mumbled sarcastically, though his words were slightly nasally because of the large red nose he wore. "I'm glad you're having fun."

"I am," Laxus grinned, holding back sniggers as he took in Freed for a moment before he began scrolling again.

This was an opportunity that he couldn't waste, and he'd get the man in as many stupid costumes he could before the date began. He quickly settled on a vampire costume that looked equal parts cheap and ridiculous. Once he applied it, he was slightly disappointed to see that Freed managed to pull it off with startlingly good looks. It was twenty-fifty-five, nobody should be able to look good while wearing a cape.

"The fact you're not complaining about this kind of takes the fun out of it," Laxus teased. "You like dressing up or something?"

"Not particularly, but I'd rather you be doing this than stressing about your date," Freed shrugged, seemingly all too comfortable dressed like a vampire. "Night six has the highest success rate. I thought you'd be panicking, this is better."

Laxus paused for a moment, but didn't say anything. He instead found another costume, and grinned when he saw how little it suited Freed. A clean-cut man like Freed didn't make a good caveman.

He fiddled with the tablet for a little while longer, flicking between costumes. Freed managed to make them look better than he had any right to do, but some of them looked ridiculous and Laxus decided to enjoy those as much as he could. A small timer at the bottom of the screen told him the simulation would be ready within the minute, and in a scramble to further annoy Freed, Laxus quickly picked a random outfit from the selection of superhero costumes. He had applied it before the lights to the simulation lit up, and smirked.

The smirk fell when he looked towards Freed. He'd expected it to be a cheap thing covered in cushioned muscles. The reality was… snug. Too snug for Laxus sanity, truly. He'd expected that Freed was hot as well as handsome, but having it clarified wasn't helping things. The guy was muscular, had a tight body, and biceps that strained against the fabric. Laxus pointedly didn't look down. That would be too much.

And he managed to pull off a bright red cape too. How? Capes were stupid. Not hot.

"You've had your fun," Freed said, and Laxus found solace in looking at his face rather than his very, very visible body. "May I have my own clothes back before you start your date?"

"Why?" Laxus asked as he stepped away from the podium. "Can't you do it yourself while I'm in there?"

"No, I can't," Freed muttered, and Laxus grinned.

"That kinda sounds like a you problem," He smirked, and Freed's face darkened for a moment as he stepped out of the pod. His cape billowed behind him and Laxus smirked. He patted the man on the shoulder. "I don't wanna leave my date waiting, after all," Without any reason to, he actually winked at Freed. "Enjoy your walk home, Superman."

As he entered the sim, he was fairly certain those few seconds of seeing Freed blushing unabashedly would be better than any date the system had in store for him.

---

"Is there something wrong with me?"

The high of messing with Freed hadn't lasted throughout the date, and the feelings had been replaced with a maudlin sense of nothingness. That was a feeling Laxus couldn't seem to get rid of throughout the day, and had persisted as he walked into the preparation room for the last time.

On paper, his date was his perfect man. He was intelligent and suave, well lived and happy to talk about his passions. He was hot, had the long hair that Laxus had always favoured on men, and had been pretty good company. He knew the guy was into him, and he felt like he should have reciprocated the attraction. This man should have been ideal for him, and yet Laxus had felt like he was going through the motions. It made him wonder, if that man wasn't right for him, then who the hell would be?

"What makes you say that?" Freed asked, who had been hunched over his table, furiously tapping at it before he'd entered.

"You said most people match with their sixth date. The guy was nice, good looking, we had interests in common," Laxus muttered. "Didn't feel anything for him."

"That doesn't mean there's something wrong with you."

"Maybe," Laxus didn't believe it.

He'd wanted to be the person who ruined THE S0U1MATES SYSTEM'S reputation. He'd wanted to be the person who proved that soulmates were pointless because they didn't exist, and even if they did, a computer program wouldn't be the way to find them. He just hadn't realised that, if he did prove that to be true, it would feel like a punch to the gut.

The system had a complete success rate! Everyone who had ever been involved found love. It was fact. Laxus was apparently going to be the exception to that. He was the first unlovable person to enter the program, and he would be the idiot who couldn't get a boyfriend no matter what.

It was shit. It was just fucking shit.

"Laxus, they're just dates," Freed said softly, placing a hand on Laxus shoulder in a comforting gesture. It felt like fire against him. "We dress them up with fancy technology, and we can explain the science in a way that makes it sound impressive, but a date is just a date. When you get two people together, they can fall in love within a moment, but they could also hate one another. That can happen to anyone, no matter what the statistics say."

"The statistics ain't got it wrong with anyone else."

"And you don't know that they have with you. People wait for the seventh night, and it works out for them," Freed assured him, the hand now gently massaging him. It was electric, and Laxus could almost allow himself to be thrilled by it. "And even if the man isn't the person you end up with, you'll find someone at some point. Don't put this on some kind of pedestal, all you'll be doing is meeting a man for the first time."

"The guy's meant to be my soulmate," Laxus scoffed. "It ain't exactly like meeting for coffee."

"It is what you make it, Laxus," Freed placated him. "Not matching with him isn't a failure of personality. It's just a thing that has happened, and it doesn't shape you."

"I guess," Laxus muttered, not exactly confident in his own words.

"You will find someone Laxus," Freed said firmly. "You're fun, intelligent, confident, good looking. A man is out there, and he will find you. Just give him time."

Freed didn't say anything else, and instead patted Laxus on the shoulder and returned to his tablet to do whatever it was he did. Laxus looked down at the floor, his nerves and self-pity only slightly at bay as he tried to agree with what Freed had said. He had come into the program wanting to prove that it was false, and he should have known this would be the outcome.

Focusing on his own problems, he didn't notice the slight change in posture from Freed. His eyes had widened, and he was tapping somewhat manically at the tablet. His teeth were gritting together and his heart hammering. A moment later, he stood up, and Laxus frowned when he saw how tense he looked.

"Don't overreact to this," Freed demanded, voice too calm. "This is a glitch, nothing else. The system has flaws, this is apparently one of them."

"What?"

He took a moment before speaking again. "Apparently you haven't been matched with someone tonight," Freed spoke quietly, almost under his breath, and Laxus felt as though he had been shot. Freed was quick to speak before Laxus could spiral. "This is the program not being able to work as intended. It is not a reflection of you. Do you understand me?"

"Fucks sake," Laxus growled, running a hand through his hair. "Fuck!"

"It's not you, Laxus," Freed tried to tell him, but Laxus was walking towards the door. He needed to leave, to get out of this damn place as quickly as he could. Why the hell had he gone there? He was an idiot. He shouldn't have gone. "Wait. Laxus, don't leave."

"Why the hell shouldn't I?"

"Because I don't want you to," Freed said quickly. "I don't want you to feel like you're… whatever it is your feeling. Because whatever it is, whatever you're telling yourself, is false."

"How the hell do you know?"

"I've watched every date of yours, Laxus. I know you, and you are a good man, and anyone would be happy to have you," He insisted, stepping towards Laxus, and placing a hand on his forearm. "If I'm honest, I found myself somewhat jealous that those men got to be with you. I'm sure I could find hundreds of men who would feel exactly the same. Truth be told, I had to stop watching you talking with that little blonde ass last night. It's unprofessional, I know, but it must be said. You are a man who, one day, will be adored and you will deserve it."

Laxus scoffed. "Sure."

"You're incredible, Laxus," Freed stepped closer, placing a hand on Laxus' cheek. Laxus blushed at the action despite himself. "And if this program has made you think otherwise, even for a moment, then it is pointless. Do you understand me?"

"You think I'm incredible?" Laxus asked, voice a little raspy as he looked down at Freed.

"I do."

"Then do something about it," Laxus whispered because he needed Freed to do this.

And he did.

Freed leant forward without hesitation, tilting up his head and slowly, cautiously pushed his lips against Laxus'. His hand remained on Laxus' cheek, and slowly he started to move his lips in tandem with Laxus', opening his mouth slightly as he pushed himself up against him. Laxus wrapped an arm around Freed's waist, and felt himself clinging to the man as if he were a lifeline.

The kiss could only last a moment, and when Laxus pulled away and was met with the slightly flushed, kiss swollen expression of Freed in his arms, all of his doubts seemed to flow away. This was more important.

"Damn," He whispered, and Freed breathed out a laugh.

"Yes," He agreed. "Damn."

"Wanted to do that from when I first saw ya," Laxus admitted.

"And I you," Freed confessed, smiling. "I must admit, watching you with those men became somewhat torturous by the end."

"Would've stopped if you told me," Laxus shrugged.

"Then you might not have come back, and I didn't want that any more than I wanted to see you match with someone," Freed chuckled.

They stayed in their embrace for a moment, Laxus gently stroking Freed's lower back with his fingers in a slow and comforting gesture. Freed was still cupping his cheek, and it was a delightful sensation that Laxus didn't want to break. He would have to at some point, and he found himself at a loss of what to do next. For a moment he considered asking Freed to set up some kind of simulation for them both, but he felt he'd had enough of the damn place for now.

"You wanna maybe go somewhere and get something to eat?" He asked, and Freed pulled back slightly with a smile.

"That'd be nice," Freed agreed, though then smirked. "Though are you sure it's not too boring? Wouldn't you rather ice skating? Or maybe a boxing match? Or an obstacle course that you keep failing at?"

"Don't be a dick," Laxus laughed, pulling himself off of Freed. "Or I'll drag you back to the pod and you'll have to go to dinner dressed as batman. Dunno how happy a restaurant is gonna be with the Dark Night's cape falling in the soup."

"I'd rather avoid that. My roommate already thinks me odd after what you did yesterday, I don't need anyone else agreeing with him," Freed laughed, and Laxus grinned at the confession. He wrapped an arm around Freed's waist as they began to leave the room. "Though, if I could get you in the Peter Pan costume again I couldn't complain. Those tights were rather flattering."

"Didn't realise you were lookin'," Laxus smirked.

"I was more subtle than you were, then," Freed grinned, and Laxus laughed.

As they left the room, the simulation unused, neither man noticed the screen of the table lighting up with an updated message.

Laxus Dreyar.

Profile = Matched.

Soulmate Level = 100%

#Fraxus Week #Fraxus #Freed Justine #Laxus Dreyar #Fairy Tail #Fanfic #Writing #One Shot #Future AU #Soulmate AU #Wordcount 8.5k

18 notes · View notes

skullrock · 5 years ago

Text

the campers, chapter one - Steve x Reader

chapter one: the enemies

series summary:Steve gets a job as a camp counselor at Camp Know Where, intending on using the summer to discover himself. When things start to go wrong at camp, the only people that can help him are the Party, Hopper, and his mortal enemy - you. [Enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort]

chapter summary: You and Steve unfortunately reunite for the first time in five years.

warnings: swearing!

word count: 1.6k

a/n: alright fellas, I am back with another longfic! this one is a summer camp au. this chap is mainly exposition but it’ll flesh out in the next chapter. hope you are ready to go on this ride w me!

===

Steve isn’t quite sure what he signed up for.

“Steve, you have to,” Dustin pleaded with him a month ago. “There aren’t enough counselors, and if there aren’t enough counselors, then there’s no camp.”

Steve rolled his eyes, bit his heart was sympathetic. “Why is that my problem?”

Dustin sighed, frustrated. “Because we’re best friends, and you’re supposed to help your friends when they need it.”

Steve rolled his eyes again as he contemplated the scenario. Steve had gone to camp when he was younger, but it was nothing like Camp Know Where. Steve’s parents had sent him off to a summer camp that some other Hawkins parents sent their kids to. Tommy H. had always gone, as well as some other boys Steve grew up with. He enjoyed his time there – it was always pleasant and fun. Just a boy doing boy things with his shitty friends. But Camp Know Where had a purpose. Steve didn’t know the first thing about science. Dustin said that could be used to his advantage - Steve wasn’t so sure.

“What’s in it for me?” Steve asked, unpeeling an orange as he leaned against the kitchen counter in his apartment.

“The camp is right on a lake,” Dustin began. “It’s a great spot for swimming and kayaking. You don’t know shit about science, so this is an opportunity to learn. And some of the camp counselors are babes.”

Steve snorted. “What are they, forty-five?”

“Uh, no? They’re your age?”

Steve’s brows shot up at the mention. “You’re saying there are babes I have a chance with there?”

“They’re apparently not your type, ya know, since you hate nerds.” Dustin shrugged his shoulders, but Steve was still very, very interested.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures.”

“And, anyway, you can lead the sports and adventures and hikes and stuff, if you don’t like science. And it’s a nice way to get away from Hawkins for a few months.”

Steve nodded thoughtfully. “Is it paid?”

“You get a stipend of two hundred a month.”

Steve nearly choked on his orange. “Two hundred dollars a month?!”

“And your food is paid for. So is your laundry and housing. It’s free.” Dustin grinned smugly at Steve, and Steve held his hand out.

“You got a deal,” he said. “I’ll do it.”

Steve went through a phone interview and Dustin wrote him a glowing recommendation. And here he is, a month later, driving towards Michigan with Dustin in the passenger seat and multiple suitcases in the back. Steve was required to come two weeks early to learn the ropes, while Dustin was allowed to come early because he was a designated Camp Leader, along with Suzie and some others.

“They call us the ‘Know Everythings’,” Dustin beams.

“Sounds like they’re trying to call you smartasses,” Steve responds, staring absentmindedly out the windshield. Dustin’s smile drops and Steve’s widens. “Don’t worry, Dusty-bun, your girlfriend likes it.”

Dustin slams himself back against the seat, looking out the window. “Should’ve never invited you.”

“Too late.”

Steve was excited beyond the nerves. He had needed some type of self-intervention and introspection after the last three years. He needed a way to mend the emotional scars that the Upside Down and Nancy had left. Dustin had said there were a lot of authors and poets who wrote about the healing power of nature. Steve’s not sure it’s legit, but it’s more hope than he’s had in a while. Robin had also insisted it would be good for Steve to get away from town and try to find himself. So Steve is going into it with an open mind, trying to fight his negative side with suffocating positivity.

You, on the other hand, knew exactly what you’d signed up for.

You had gone to camp when you were younger, too. Except you hated that camp with a passion. Each summer, you’d cry to your parents as June rolled around. You didn’t want to go back to that stupid, hot, ridiculous camp, where a certain group of boys made your life hell. But your parents insisted it was good for you, and they sent you until you were too old to go. In a way, they were right; the camp had taught you to stand up for yourself. It gave you the confidence and self-love a lot of people didn’t have. But you certainly wished you’d found all of that in a healthier way - not because boys would steal your clothes when you were swimming at night, leaving you to walk to your cabin naked.

So, you signed up to help out at Camp Know Where two years ago because you loved science and the outdoors, and you wanted to facilitate a healthy self-love journey for the campers. You wanted to help teach them how to be themselves, to love themselves, to stick up for themselves. And, truth be told, nerds need that kind of reassurance. You’re a nerd – you’d know.

You came to camp two weeks early to help train the new counselors. You didn’t get the list of names, but if you had, you would have run away as soon as your eyes landed on Steve Harrington.

It was, by all accounts, a beautiful June day. Not too hot, not too cool. The breeze rustled the leaves and the waves of the lake lapped the shoreline. Not a cloud in the bright blue expanse above the camp, which was buzzing with Camp Leaders and trainees. You stood at the entrance, helping direct people to the registration table. You were excited to see some of your favorites again – especially Suzie and Dustin. They’d been campers you bonded with last year, and you were ready to see them again.

Suzie came by first, adorably excited to see Dustin when he arrived. “He said he’s bringing a friend to help be a counselor, do you know them?”

“Oh, I have no clue,” you remark. “Do you know their name?”

“Steve, something? They’re pretty close.”

The name Steve had always left a bitter taste in your mouth, so you visibly cringe. Suzie’s brows furrow but you assure her you’re fine. It can’t be that Steve. There’s no way the Steve you knew at Camp Golden Rays was about to come here, to a nerd-infested camp, to help out with kids. No way.

You continue to greet campers and new counselors as they come. During a lull, you lean against the picket fence that lined the entrance, looking out at the parking lot. You see a nice BMW come into view – it’s not one you’d seen before. Must be someone new, you think, pushing yourself up off the fence to greet them.

The first person you notice is Dustin, easily recognizable despite the hat covering his curly hair. He’s taller than the last time you’d seen him – kids grow up so fast. You smile brightly, happy for him to finally arrive, but your smile plummets comically as you see the next person step out.

It’d been 5 years since you’d seen Steve Harrington, and his hair had grown out and his body had toned, but it was unquestionably him. Steve, that stupid, smug bastard. That idiotic jerk who used to smack your lunch tray and trip you. That moron who all the girls swooned over and excused countless times for shitty behavior.

Here he is, at Camp Know Where – a place you never thought you’d ever see him.

Of course, Steve doesn’t know who you are, at first. His concussions had clouded his memory, only remembering bits and pieces. It takes work for him to remember who people are, or what things happened. Most of his memories of Camp Golden Rays are intact, but he had severely repressed his shitty tween behavior. As he approaches, all he really thinks about is that Dustin was right, there were babes here.

“Y/N!” Dustin calls out, running awkwardly with his trunk to come hug you. You hug him, but your eyes stay on Steve, who beams at you as if he didn’t ruin your whole life.

“Look who it is.” Your voice is cold and monotonous.

Steve stops dead in his tracks, confusion twisting on his face. What now? he thinks. This isn’t the first time he’s forgotten who someone was. But then it hits him, and the realization nearly sweeps him off his feet. Regret, remorse, guilt, and anger rip through him as he remembers you. You, who he used to shove. You, who he used to laugh at. There’s still a part of him that feels that hatred for you, deep down, and he tries to shove it away.

“Jesus Christ,” he says under his breath, before loudly saying, “Hi, Y/N.”

Dustin’s brows knit together, and he looks between you two. He can assume that you both have a history. Steve probably stood you up or something. Slowly, he asks, “You two…?”

“Nice car,” you quip. “Daddy buy that for you?”

“Nice to see you, too,” Steve responds, dragging his feet towards you. There’s a lot of things he wants to say – that he’s sorry, that you look really good now, that he’s changed. But it all rests at the base of his throat. His mouth opens and closes a few times.

“Can someone please explain?” Dustin says.

“You’re friends with this asshat?” You ask Dustin, gesturing to Steve. “Like, actual friends with him?”

“Guilty,” Dustin says sheepishly. He’ll fill you in on Steve’s growth later. “Let’s go find Suzie, Steve.”

And despite your apprehension towards each other, you and Steve share the same thought – This is going to be a long summer.

===

taglist (join here!): @harringtown @heart-eye-harrington @rosecolouredboi @comedy-witch @lovesong-remastered

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington au #stranger things fic #stranger things au #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #the campers #working on a playlist!!!

229 notes · View notes

7wanderingpaws · 5 years ago

Text

Simply, yours (12)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.5K

Warnings: mentions of death, cursing

A/N: a moodboard! Yay! Finally some face to the story ^^ in my head baek looks like on the pics in this one hihi. Couple of more interesting things will happen! Aaaand this series will finish by 15th chapter. Or less. I will see how much time I will have. :( Anyway, thank you all sososososooo much for the support and comments, it means THE WORLD! ❤

tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @shesdreaminginoverdose @cynthbee @jummyjammy @junmyeonnoona @littleflowercrown13 @sebootyforlife (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11 . 12

Baekhyun was stressed. That much you could tell.

The competition between the universities was in couple of days and he-

“Chanyeol, I can't hang out! I still didn't hand in my paper on the sports psychology thing and I have to head to uni in a couple for the training!”

You were in the kitchen, trying to bake some muffins since you were craving like a mad man, and you could hear him pacing around the bedroom where he bunked the whole day to finish off the mentioned paper. He had been a bit distant since the past three-four days, and you gave him his space, knowing he wasn't taking any silly things from anyone right now. He was full on focused and, well, quite biting to whomever tried to help.

He sighed again. “Listen, I know we still have time to hand it in, but I am so busy with the university team that I need to finish it earlier. Fuck, the assistant master is also breathing on my neck. You need to understa-”

He went quiet when Chanyeol interrupted him, and you silently continued separating the dough to the empty holes on the baking pan.

It had now been two weeks since the Korean New Year and another check-up at the clinic, after which you started to attend pilates classes for the expecting women. You had classes two times per week in the evening hours and one of them clashed with Baekhyun's hapkido class at the university, so you weren't accompanying him that often anymore, which was also a small relief for you. As much as your presence there didn't change matters, you felt like a bothersome girlfriend that needed to keep an eye on him, which was not true. Let alone Jiyoung, although had not necessarily done anything, still made you uneasy with her straight-forward behaviour with Baekhyun. You trusted him, though. After the Korean New Year, you got rid of the whole jealousy nonsense and focused solely on yourself and your own peace of mind. After all, it was literally a matter of a few months and your life would become loud, tiring and just overall turnt upside down.

“And you know I've got other stuff to get taken care of.” Silence. “You know what I'm talking about.” You giggled to yourself, liking how Baekhyun was losing his cool with his best friend, not paying attention to the meaning of his words.

You placed the baking pan in the oven and set up the temperature and timer, finally standing up properly, and hissing at the pain in your lower back.

These days, whenever you looked in the mirror at your tummy and the dark stretch marks, you couldn't help but wonder how was this humanly possible; to bear three kids in your own body, in that little place under your heart. It blew your mind, and usually you would end up talking about this with Baekhyun just before sleeping when the lights were out and you were curled up at his side.

“Just proves how fucking amazing you are, my love,” he would murmur in your ear.

You smiled to yourself, your heart fluttering at the recollection and you sat down, checking your phone. A new customer who was buying your knitted clothings, was supposed to come by any minute now, so you might as well rest till she arrived, and let Baekhyun deal with his own issues.

You found a message from the lady waiting for you, so you opened it quickly, thinking she might have cancelled on you.

Hello! I was supposed to pick up the ordered knits today, but I can't make it unfortunately, so my husband will come at the promised time instead! Thank you!

Okay, at least she didn't cancel. You didn't care who would come for them as long as they were taken and paid for.

“Okay, Chanyeol, I will meet you tomorrow,” Baekhyun finally ended the call after more discussion and then you heard another heavy sigh. It caused pain for you too, knowing you couldn't help and you also didn't have a constant, stable pay so that you could ease it up for him just a little bit. Great at uselessne- no. You wouldn't allow yourself those thoughts anymore.

“Babe, you good?” you shouted.

“Yeah.”

“Doesn't sound very convincing,” you muttered to yourself, just when the doorbell rang. You struggled up to your feet and headed for the intercom, letting the person in.

“That's the customer, right?” asked Baekhyun from the bedroom.

You made your way to the door, the little bag with necessary clothes prepared, as you shouted back a yes before sliding the door open and waiting for the person to leave the elevator.

You were excited to earn money like this, even if it was just a little bit. You could shop groceries with it and Korea did have expensive fruit and veggies, unfortunately, so this came extremely handy to you.

Quickly shooting a look behind you, you double-checked if everything looked decent and clean in the apartment before turning back just to get the biggest shock.

Without even thinking, you had the urge to slam the door shut in his face before he could properly orient himself on the new floor of apartments, but you didn't do it. Instead, you ran your tongue over your teeth, preparing for a painful smile.

He turned and he spotted you - he just looked at your stomach - standing in the doorway, ready to walk to you resolutely before he actually brought his eyes up to yours. And he momentarily froze, stopping on the spot.

Silence overtook the cold corridor, and you felt the stress creeping up in your stomach, except you had nothing to fear this time. It was him who wanted something. And Baekhyun was right in the apartment in case anything happened.

“I believe you came to pick up the knits?” Your voice was almost foreign to you, it was strained so much.

His eyes fell lower, seeing just how pregnant you were; your body a far cry from when he last saw you. Clearing his throat, he replied: “Yes, I am.”

Slowly, he walked over and you pushed your hand with the bag out for him to take, wanting him to just leave. “Here. That will be 120.000 won, please.”

Your ex-boss stared at you, not taking the bag for a couple of heartbeats. He monitored your face before his eyes looked behind you at the humble apartment. Only after that, he took it while with his other hand he reached behind taking out his wallet probably from the pockets of his trousers. “Yes, I have the exact amount.”

“Good.”

He snapped his eyes back to you, as he took out the necessary cash before handing it to you. “How are you?”

Oh, dear lord. Not the small talk, please.

“I mean, are you doing well and healthy?”

You stared at him, hoping the negative emotions didn't mirror in your eyes too much, as you didnt want to become someone like him. “I'm fine and healthy, thank you for asking.”

“That's a relief.”

Suppressing a scoff, you were about to put an end to this fruitless conversation when you heard shuffling from behind, and Baekhyun's voice. “Is everything alright?” And he appeared.

He walked to your side, shock evident on his face. “You?”

You felt a protective hand around your waist, your boyfriend pushing you further inside the house, not liking an inch your evil boss being near your vicinity.

Your boss, Mr Kim, gave him a tight lipped smile. “Hello, Mr Byun. My wife is the one buying the knits from your wif- girlfriend.”

“Really?”

You nodded. “She wrote me just a couple of minutes ago that her husband would pick them up instead of her,” you explained to Baekhyun, who didn't even look at you, his strict gaze focused on your boss, “and it turns out to be Mr Kim. There are too many Kims in this country, for sure.”

“Well, we hope your wife will enjoy them,” said Baekhyun coldly. “Have a good evening.”

He was about to push both of you back inside to close the door, but your boss surprised you. Again. “I just wanted to… wish you all the best. I hope you will continue having a safe pregnancy and birth.”

You frowned, but nodded nonetheless. “Thank you.”

“And… I apologise.”

Baekhyun's grip on you tightened. “For what exactly?”

Mr Kim looked in your eyes as he seemed to think over his words. “I was acting unprofessional and it was not acceptable. Me sacking you due to your state was not justifiable, and I realize that I probably created even bigger financial difficulties for you. You always mentioned how money comes in handy and yet…” he shook his head, scrunching his eyebrows, “it was all a terrible mistake. I was insensitive. I apologise.”

You took in a shaky breath, your palms sweaty with anxiety as you let his words properly sink in. He actually uttered those words. Those apologetic words. The words you never imagined he would say, because you believed he was incapable of feeling anything close to regret and sorrow.

Sensing your hesitation, Baekhyun spoke up. “I think it's too late for that. But thank you. I bet my girlfriend appreciates your realizations.”

“Why suddenly?” You asked before Baekhyun could push you further inside the apartment. “I worked so hard for you. I always tried to please you yet I received hate.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite name. Was it hurt? Was it sorrow? Pain? “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I was ruthless, but just know that I am sorry.” He looked at Baekhyun now. “I deserved the punch.” With a sad smile, he raised and dangled the bag in front of him as he took a step back. “I’m sure my grandchildren will love this. And my wife too. All the best,” he said and turned around, not letting you and Baekhyun speak.

And you wouldn’t even be able to, because Baekhyun closed the door right after muttering: “Get home safely.”

“What was that?” You asked, shell-shocked at the sudden turn of events. “Did this really happen?”

You were still squeezing the bank notes in your sweaty palms and you moved to put them on the dining table, Baekhyun hot on your heels. “He is crazy. One moment he is shouting at you, calling you all kinds of things and the next he is sorry and acts like…whatever” he trailed off, in the heat of a moment unable to think of a proper word.

You shot him a look, amused. “I know. But at least he realized his mistake.”

Baekhyun pursed his lips, not fully convinced with your words but eventually he murmured: “At least if some other employee gets pregnant he won’t throw her out.”

You smiled, satisfied with his way of thinking. “Exactly.”

“And you earned yourself some money,” he reciprocated the smile and he came to you to give you a kiss on the cheek. “Well done.”

“I’ve been earning money through this for some time now,” you reminded him.

“I know but it’s his money.”

“Oh.”

“Exactly.”

Once the muffins were out of the oven, you decided to call Sukyeong. Baekhyun retrieved to your shared bedroom to continue his studying. He needed the peace anyway, and you really wanted to chat to your good friend because you had way too many thoughts and questions about your ex-boss’s well being. The way he acted was so unlike him.

Sukyeong thankfully picked up after the third ring and she squealed into the phone upon seeing your name. “Finally! I thought you would never call! We saw each other two weeks ago, don't tell me you got suddenly busy!”

You let out a breathy laugh. “No, I became lazy and almost immobile by now, thank you for the concerns.”

“I think I will have to drop by more often,” she thought out loud. “Besides, I also want to talk about something!”

“Eh? What is it?”

“Nah, this needs to be told face to face.”

Since your topic seemed to be just a little bit more intriguing than Sukyeong’s secretiveness, you decided to go with it and spill the beans. You quickly explained to her what just happened, feeling more encouraged by her gasps.

“Well, there is something that happened actually,” she said after a bit of silence. After you left your job, you and Sukyeong rarely ever talked about the workplace, Sukyeong only complaining about the workload and whatnot. She was such a kind-hearted, considerate friend to you; she knew by default the last person you want to talk about was your screwed up boss. “I just didn't know if I should tell you or not, since it doesn't really include you anymore and also…” she trailed off, “it might scare you.”

You frowned, fingering the little whole in the pillow you were hugging to yourself. “Scare me? What are you talking about?” you let out a doubtful laugh.

Sukyeon sighed and you imagined her playing with her fringe to ease up the nerves. “You know his son is married, right?”

“Mhm.” You rarely paid attention to your boss's private life but you were aware of that fact.

“So, anyway, Mr Kim's daughter-in-law was pregnant and she was supposed to give birth just one month after you left,” she continued on, her words still not bearing an ounce of confidence.

You interrupted her, though. “Oh, really? So why didn't he fire his daughter-in-law, huh?! How dare she be pregnant?! God, that man is ridiculous, I swear. Poor daughter-in-law! How difficult it must be for her to live with him!”

“Erm,” Sukyeong gently called out your name, trying to get your attention, which she did but you wished she didn't as her next words gave you the nausea you had been dreading to have your entire pregnancy. “She died giving birth.”

You went completely silent at that, your mind empty and busy all at the same time. His daughter-in-law died giving birth to his grandchild. She died. Giving birth. “How did that happen?” you breathed out.

“Complications during birth. Unexpected high blood pressure, high sugar levels and many other factors,” she replied, her voice sad.

“Jesus,” you breathed out again, “I had no clue.”

“You couldn't have known, dear.”

Tears burned in your eyes at the thought of how tragic the whole story is. So this was why he was apologetic. “But still… I'm so sorry. To her, and even to him - Mr Kim.”

Sukyeong heaved out a heavy sigh. “Don't cry, I cannot comfort you over the phone like this. You wouldn't know!”

“What if I will die?”

“You won't,” she snapped right away. “You are a healthy woman.”

“You know my blood-pressure is also dangerously high at times.”

“But that doesn't change the fact that you are healthy. You don't have problems with your sugar levels, nor is your entire pregnancy problematic.” She paused, before she continued. “Listen, this is why I was reluctant to tell you. I didn't want to trigger any fear in you. Just don't think about it.”

You felt your chin quiver, but you pushed it down. Sukyeong was right. Plus, Baekhyun really didn't need this kind of stress when he already had too much on his plate right now. Having to suck it up and be brave for your own self for once was something you should have started doing a while ago. You always knew pregnancy was a risk. But you wanted to show everyone that not having enough money and still bearing three healthy babies and eventually giving them birth was something more valuable than any monetary aspect of this world.

“You are right, Sukyeonga. I won't. But you owe me a hot chocolate.”

It was around 1am. You were lying on your side, naked back facing Baekhyun as he absentmindedly traced his fingertips over the imprints on your back, left there by your bra. He was shuffling around more, until he resolved to skinship in hopes to ease his mind.

“What's on your mind?” you asked quietly out of nowhere, startling him for a second. He thought you would be asleep by now.

You turned around to your other side, curling up against his chest and he gladly opened his arms for you, missing your presence. It was common that you two would naturally shift apart during the night, both of you deep in sleep, but because of your pregnancy you also felt many times boiling hot which resulted in you scooting as far away from his body heat as the mattress allowed. This time though, the night was exceptionally cold and you knew he needed you.

“Baby, you should be resting,” he rasped quietly.

You held his cheek gently, looking up at him, although he couldn't see you properly in the darkness. “There is something bothering my man,” you whispered, “and I can't sleep when I know you are this troubled.”

He sighed, and you could feel the heaviness of it, the worries somehow too difficult to bear. “It's just a lot on my plate,” he admitted, though very reluctantly. “I want our team to win or at least make it very far but I'm worried I am asking for too much.” His hand was caressing your back, enjoying the hot skin covering it.

“What makes you think that?”

He went silent, contemplating your question and his answer to it. The truth was, Baekhyun's head was very chaotic which rarely happened. Him, who always had a goal clearly set in his mind, never got this worried. “I don't even know. It's the PhD stuff together with this Universiad competition… both require my full attention and even though I am doing my best, I feel like I could still do better.”

It meant a lot that he was this outspoken. He shared his daily issues with you, however only the heavy ones he would let pile up and mull over them until he couldn't bear it anymore.

“My perfectionist boy,” you cooed. “Everything is created in your mind, darling. Everything is still the same as before - you are a student and as your side job you teach kids. Your team was always doing well and that's why you got this opportunity. In fact, you don't need to change anything. You have addition of Jiyoung and her team, that's true, but that still doesn't change the fact that what you did until now is enough. It is all valuable. You're not asking for too much, Baekhyun.”

A couple of heartbeats later you heard him sigh again as he squeezed your body to his, your tummy pressing to his side. “Thank you,” he murmured into your hair.

“Don't keep it in. I know it's difficult. I know, honey.”

“I just want to do well, you know? Do well in my professional life. And I want to do everything in my power to make you and our kids live comfortably.”

You felt stinging behind your eyes, touched and overwhelmed with emotions. “You are doing more than enough, Baekhyun. I'm comfortable and happy because I have you. Out of our entire village, you are the superstar. You are the one who made it. Don't doubt yourself for one second, because I will love you no matter what. You are doing already more than enough, so relax.”

He chuckled lowly. “What would I do without you, hm?” he whispered and he moved to bury his face in your neck, slowly kissing down to your chest where he rested his head under your collarbones. His arm around you was now caressing the bump, his thumb running over the stretched out belly. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“Don't thank me.That's what I'm here for. For you. In good and in bad,” you replied as you played with his messy hair.

“Already doing the wedding vows?”

You grew hot, the sudden images of a wedding ceremony with Baekhyun warming your heart. “Not yet.”

He hummed. “But soon.”

“After the kids are born.”

“Where do you want to leave them for our honeymoon? They would be always tied to your boobs. That way I can't have them just for myself.”

That made you laugh out loud, and you pulled on his hair gently, making him chuckle. He raised his head and you felt his breath on your smiling lips. “Then you better enjoy them until you can.”

He kissed you slowly, languidly, humming in the process while dragging his hand over your bump and chest until he was cupping your cheek. “I should, huh,” he murmured into your open mouth. “Though I beg for priority. I was the first to claim them.”

You laughed again and Baekhyun felt extremely satisfied, his worries settled for now. He brought you in for another sensual kiss until both of your eyes were droopy enough to pull to sleep.

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun au #baekhyun scenario #exo fanfiction #exo fluff #exo smut #mywritings

117 notes · View notes

sheadre · 4 years ago

Text

Aurora Borealis (Jiang Cheng x Reader) Part Four

Summary: Zhu Ran'En (Reader) the imperial princess, was sent into exile for a crime she did not commit. Meeting Jiang Wanyin, the Yunmeng Jiang sect’s leader was not just a chance meeting. Their fates were written in the stars however, her relations to the royal family will never let her live in peace. How will she manage to save the kingdom while trying to keep Jiang Wanyin away from the snakes of the royal family?

Word count: 2502

Warnings: fluff, romance, idiots in love, awkward flirting, blood and violence later

Previous Chapter - Series Masterlist

The morning breeze felt nice against your skin as you stood in the doorway of your room. It was surprising how easily you were buttering up to Jiang Wanyin. You haven’t noticed when you started smiling at him when you crossed paths. He still seemed annoyed most of the time but the slight blush on his cheeks occasionally made your heart flutter in your chest. He was definitely one of a kind. Wei Wuxian and Hanguang-Jun both stayed in Yunmeng helping with planning the defense when the rebellious army would arrive.

They were all experienced in battle so most of the work was theirs while you gave them information about the three generals. You were skilled in getting information from anyone. It was fascinating how easily a man’s tongue would spill the secrets once a pretty lady shows interest in them. Sending Lili to coax those information out of men was always a good decision. You were already grateful for Lili’s help, she was an enigma. It always shocked you how she changed into a completely different person once she needed to. Usually, she was a quiet, dutiful young lady but when it came to missions you sent her on, she changed into a boisterous courtesan in seconds on the spot or any character she needed to. Sending her out to gather information all alone always made you worried though. She only had her knife with her but somehow, she always got out of every situation. You looked to your right seeing her form approaching you quietly.

“Your highness, I am ready to go” she spoke up from your side as she lowered into a bow. She was dressed to take off for the journey you tasked her with. Her small face and delicate figure deceived anyone especially with how you made her dress like a noble lady. You stretched your arm out and grabbed her wrist gently. Looking deeply into her eyes, you wished her a safe journey. At the thought of harm coming to her, your heart clenched in worry and pain. You promised yourself you would keep her safe once you brought her down with yourself. She was out of control of her fate, she depended on you completely back in the palace and now outside of it. Your eyes looked at her trying to make sure she will do as you told her.

“You know what you have to do once you encounter any danger” you whispered. “Don’t hesitate, Lili.”

“But-“

“No, Lili… promise your mistress that you will do as told” you insisted. She was too important for you to let her get into trouble. She almost lost her father for a simple little mistake, you won’t let her family lose her because she helped the fallen princess. You won’t drag down anyone else with you.

Lili nodded solemnly with her eyebrows furrowed but her lips were sealed. You watched her leave Yunmeng with a heavy heart, worry etched onto your face. You decided to let her go once she was safe and everything was settled. She deserved a happy life, a loving husband and children. Serving the fallen princess wouldn’t give her that but you had a hunch that she would try and protest. You sighed heavily and closed the doors of your room.

Days passed quickly, you spent most of your time with Jiang Wanyin to the elders’ delight. It was funny how they were hoping for a blossoming romance and the promise of heirs. You knew they were concerned about the future of the sect and you couldn’t really blame them. In the Imperial Court, the Emperor had a bunch of ministers to prepare that part of his life. You didn’t believe that counting mathematically these things would ensure a good future. Especially with how Zhu HuaJin and the second prince ended up.

Back in the palace you always thought you would be married off to some other prince or noble man. No one really picked your interest back then but honestly, you never really looked for romance. Your days were filled with trying to avoid getting killed. You never really admitted after you left the palace but… you were living a much more tranquil and balanced life out here. Maybe going back would be a mistake. You were no longer a part of it, you could simply disappear and never look back, turn your back on them. Could you?

“Are you even listening, your highness?” suddenly Jiang Wanyin’s angry voice brought you back from the ocean of your thoughts. Your head quickly turned to him as you blinked and smiled sheepishly at him.

“Nope”

You saw the vein on his forehead visibly throb especially after Wei Wuxian’s howling laughter at your reply. Your eyes flitted to Hanguang-Jun who sported a small, almost invisible smile. It was fascinating to see how his features changed from such a small thing.

“Why are you even here if you’re not listening to a word I-“

“I didn’t mean to be rude, Jiang sect leader” you sighed interrupting him. You knew pulling on a mock-concerned expression on your face would only fuel his anger but you had to do it to emphasize the fact you were jesting. “I am simply troubled by the thought of my cousin and the second prince’s reign over the court.”

“The quicker we defeat the rebellion, the sooner you can get back to court, your highness” Wanyin replied crossing his arms in front of his chest. “And we do that if you listen carefully to the plans otherwise you will run around the battlefield without a clue what you’re supposed to do, your highness.” You narrowed your eyes at him pointing a finger at him as you walked up to him. He kept looking down at you with his chin tilted up as you stepped so close to him. Then you grinned at him playfully.

“Jiang Wanyin, you just want me out of your hair, right?” you poked him in the shoulder playfully and distinctly heard Wei Wuxian whisper: “Get married already…”

“Ha, finally we understand each other, your highness! I want nothing more than for you to leave Yunmeng and let us simple people live our lives!” the sect leader huffed making you chuckle.

“Oh, I would return to you after I got rid of those bastards, don’t you worry” you grinned at him making him blush furiously. Your finger drawing a line across his jawline as you smirked at him while purring: “After all, the elders are already planning our wedding.”

“Who- Who would-“ the sect leader wasn’t even able to finish his sentence in his anger and embarrassment. While he sputtered trying to find his words, you leaned up on the tip of your toes and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“You would definitely like that” you winked at him and left the room quickly. The blush on your cheeks betrayed you as you tried to pretend to be calm. His skin was so soft against your lips. You smiled with your heart trembling in your chest. Maybe in another life… you could be someone he could marry.

Training became a normality to you besides you were relishing in the way Jiang Wanyin was staring at you from somewhere he thought you couldn’t see him. Everyone was surprised by your skills in swordsmanship and you couldn’t blame them. It wasn’t usual that an imperial princess could use a sword properly. You picked it up while no one paid attention to you back in the palace otherwise the eunuchs along with the princess dowager would’ve been so pissed off you wouldn’t have gotten out of your room for the rest of your life.

You stopped hitting the dummy with your sword and lowered it to your side. You panted softly as memories were haunting you. Every time you thought about Zhu HuaJin or the second prince, you were moments from going on a rampage in your fury. Then your ears perked up at the soft rustling of dry leaves.

“Jiang sect leader, if you want to play, you should just come out and ask” you spoke up your lips pulling into a mischievous smirk. As you turned to him, you noticed the slightly taken aback, cautious expression the angry grape had. You knew you had to calm yourself so you sighed exaggeratedly before pouting. “Please, please, come play with me, Jiang sect leader!”

“What was that?” he asked hesitant to take a step closer to you. His face showed how serious he was being. Your heart jumped into your throat and you felt a thin layer of sweat forming on your forehead. Did he see anything? Did he see any of your true power? “What were you doing just now?”

“What do you mean?” you asked back feigning confusion. He saw it… or at least a glimpse of it and if he did… he must be terrified of you now. Then his expression changed, anger turning his handsome face into a terrifying mask. You felt like his anger alone could make the world turn dark and stormy. His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled on it roughly so you lost your balance almost falling into his chest. You looked up at him startled, eyes wide and lips slightly parted.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about! Show me!” Jiang Wanyin shook you violently and let you go, almost tossing you back. Wobbling on your feet you barely managed to steady yourself.

“Wanyin… it is not what you think it is” you tried to explain but you knew he wouldn’t listen to you. “I-“

“Show it to me!” he cried out startling you again and you knew servants and disciples must’ve heard him too. You exhaled defeatedly, closing your eyes you let the power course through your body. You feared to reveal your true self for a reason. You could only hope that he will understand.

Jiang Cheng’s PoV.

The sect leader watched her many times, training with the dummies and her skills were surprisingly good. He would’ve never thought a princess from the imperial court would be able to wield a sword. Her beauty sometimes caught him off guard making him stare at her for too long. Today was another occasion to keep an eye on the princess but Jiang Wanyin didn’t expect to see what he saw.

The dark glow around her body as she practiced grew darker and stronger the angrier she got. He watched her with bated breath waiting for something but she stopped right when something could’ve happened lifting her head. His eyes widened when he saw her (e/c) eyes glow with an eerie emerald green. Her features though looked solemn, devastated, pained. His feet moved on his own, drawing her attention and her eyes quickly turned back to the way they were, the darkness around her receded back to her body.

“Jiang sect leader, if you want to play, you should just come out and ask” she greeted him with her signature mischievous smirk but it seemed off. It was so different even if it looked the same. His heart was pounding in his ribcage as he watched her. “Please, please, come play with me, Jiang sect leader!”

“What was that?” he asked hesitant to take a step closer to her. He needed answers, his mind was flooded with questions as he looked at her. “What were you doing just now?”

“What do you mean?” Zhu Ran’En asked back, her beautiful face a mask of confusion but Jiang Cheng knew she was aware of what he wanted from her. That mask of hers she always pulled on when she was in a tight situation, it wasn’t as perfect as she thought. Maybe it worked on the residents of the palace but he has seen a Jin Guangyao level schemer. Jiang Wanyin could see her face change as she saw his rage showing on his features. He gritted his teeth angrily because even now, even in such a situation she tried to hide something from him. They were partners in this, he trusted her enough to let her pull him into her plans. His hand grabbed her wrist and pulled on it roughly so she lost her balance almost falling into his chest. Zhu Ran’En looked up at him startled, her eyes wide and lips slightly parted. “You know exactly what I’m talking about! Show me!” Jiang Wanyin shook her violently and let her go, almost tossing her back.

“Wanyin… it is not what you think it is” she tried to explain her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked miserable compared to the way she looked when all that power was unleashed from her body. She looked deathly, now? Now she looked weak and pathetic. Jiang Cheng felt sorry for her in a way but he couldn’t stand anymore secrets and lies. “I-“

“Show it to me!” he cried out startling her again. Zhu Ran’En raised to her full height while sighing defeatedly and closed her eyes. He was ready to see it and fight. If she was a threat, she wouldn’t stand a chance against three powerful cultivators along with the many disciples.

Black and green mist engulfed her body completely before she opened her eyes which were glowing with the same green light. He watched her transform with wide eyes before the mist lifted from her form revealing a dark green scaled dragon. Its scales were so deep green that they almost looked black, like the midnight sky. He only noticed her body curling around him in the small courtyard when the mist completely dissolved.

“Wanyin… let me explain… please” her voice startled him as the large dragon lowered its head and averted its gaze from him like it was… embarrassed? “I was cursed before I was sent into exile. I was begging for power to the Heavens, I was begging for them to give me power in exchange of anything they could want. I begged them because I wanted to protect my little sister… she’s in danger living in the palace all alone.”

“What curse?” Jiang Cheng whispered as he stared at the magnificent creature in front of him.

“I am to roam the world until eternity for the protection of the innocent” she answered truthfully. “And I need your help with that, Wanyin…”

Then the dragon lit up with blinding green light and disappeared. He had to close his eyes so he wouldn’t be blinded and when he opened them again, he saw Zhu Ran’En standing in front of him. For the first time he spotted her, she looked small and weak, like a porcelain doll that could break by a simple touch to it. He could tell she was frightened and when he reached out, she took a step back startled.

“You need my help” he said with a firm tone. His palm facing the heavens as he beckoned her towards him. “Then I will help.”

To be continued…

#romance #fluff #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #jiang cheng x reader #wangxian #lan wangji #lan wangji x wei wuxian

12 notes · View notes

prose-for-hire · 4 years ago

Text

Secret Santa

12 Days of Christmas: Day 1

Pairing: Wesley Wyndam-Pryce x reader

Request: If you're still accepting winter requests could I have a wesley x reader where the reader tells wesley that they still stubbornly believe in Santa claus so he gets them a gift and they do the "Santa's handwriting looks suspiciously like yours" line? I love your writing btw and hope you have a good winter!

Requested by: @alltheangstmygifttoyou

You were sat in the library with your nose in a book. He had joined you again. The same guy, always sat two seats away from you. He never spoke to you, sometimes he glanced over when he thought you weren’t looking. You were relaxed in his presence, not many could do that. For some unknown reason in your soul, you trusted him.

You came here for fun, to find a peaceful place to read. Your apartment was full of roommates and you paid too much for very little personal space. So you spent a lot of your free time here. It was an escape from the mundane. You went on epic adventures, got lost in new lands. Met angels and demons. Read tales of good and evil. You could only dream of being a part of something like that. It was everything you wanted. Sometimes you read non-fiction. Wanting to absorb as much information as you could. You liked learning and you knew knowledge was important. The guy often noted what you were reading, he was fascinated by the array of texts you would read.

This man, a rogue demon hunter by night and a regular of the library by day was named Wesley. He had been travelling since his stint as a watcher in Sunnydale and had settled here for the moment. The truth was, Wesley had been building up the courage to speak to you for a while. He loved to sit in the library it had a great atmosphere for when he needed to focus. But since he had noticed you, the last thing he could do was focus.

He caught your eye often and sometimes you shared a smile. It was as if you were both holding your breath, seeing if the other would make a move first. But neither of you did. That was, until one day. In early December. Today. You had been to the market earlier that day and had decided to treat yourself by buying yourself some old trinket from the flea market on your way to the library. This had caught the man’s eyes and you smiled. But today, he didn’t smile back. He was staring from your neck to your face with concern. He paused for a moment, but he had to say something.

“H-Hello, could I, um, borrow that necklace?” he whispered and pointed at the chain around your neck. You blinked at him. Your frown now matching his. He never spoke to you before and the first thing he wanted was to borrow the gold chain around your neck. He hadn’t complimented it. Hadn’t said that he liked how unique it was. Just asked you to remove it.

“No, it’s mine. Sorry” you shifted away from him trying to get back into your book. But he persisted moving seats right beside you.

“it’s glowing and… leaking a yellow liquid that I know for certain is a concentration of yak’s blood and wolfsbane” He stated trying to get you to understand. The necklace had been dipped in the potion and cursed to hold something by his quick assessment of the situation.

“Sorry, you’ll have to get your own. Perhaps put it on your Christmas list to Santa” You offered unhelpfully as he looked at you aghast at the suggestion. Especially so when

“There is no such thing as Santa, now won’t you please listen to what I’m saying”

“I’ve seen you around here, you know… I had been hoping you would say something but you never did” You said slowly frowning at the way he had denounced Santa so easily, “Now I know why, you’re basically Scrooge McDuck”

“I assume that this is some caricature of one Ebenezer Scrooge and not a backhanded compliment” He muttered, shaking his head. He had imagined your first interaction going a lot smoother than this. He remembered what he was trying to do and focused on the threat instead, “I just think it would be wise for you to remove the chain and pass it over to me slowly” he said, his arms raised to highlight how serious he was. You got up to leave and he followed you out.

“But this was my Christmas present to myself, I found it on the market! And, even if I wasn’t attached to the chain, you just ruined my favourite time of year by denying Santa’s existence!” You hissed at him as you left the main room of the library and into the corridor leading to the exit.

“What are you talking about-”

“You know that the magic of Christmas, and more importantly, Santa only works if you believe” you insisted, your face deadly serious as you turned back to look at him. Stopping dead in the corridor.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Just- give me the-” he grabbed at the necklace and tugged it, breaking the clasp and pulling it from your neck. You frown, trying to snatch it back. You end up doing a crude tug-of-war with the gold chain.

This was when you both felt a white hot heat burning your fingertips. You both knew you had messed up as you yelped in unison and dropped the chain to the ground. A white light blinded you both momentarily and when it disappeared a demon was towering over you. Your eyes widened. You had never seen anything like it. You had a certain level of belief in the things you could not see or explain but you had never considered something like this. Never expected anything like the fantasy you had read in books to become a reality. But there was no other explanation than this was a demon. Perhaps it came from the books… or, oh, of course. The necklace.

“Who hath summoned me? Reveal yourself!” The booming voice echoed around the corridor as he shrugged off the tinsel he had knocked down from the walls as he had appeared. He stamped on it for good measure and scowled around.

A librarian came to tell the group to be quiet, her finger hovering over her lip ready to motion you to be silent. However, when she saw the identity of the one making all the noise she backed out of the hall and back through the double doors into the main library, shaking her head. That was more trouble than it was worth.

That left you, the Englishman and this unusual creature that kind of looked half yak, half Santa clause if he had spent the night passed out in a bush. He even had jingle bells on the lining of his cloth outfit.

“Speak, child! Who dares stand before me?!” the giant pointed at you. But Wesley stepped in front of you.

“Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, demon hunter” He recited, staring in his eyes and hoping nobody else saw his slight shaking.

“You wish to hunt me as sport? Do you know who I am?” he asked.

“Hogroth, warrior demon of the Land of Lap” Wesley stated quickly. Your eyes widened. This was too good to be true. Well, it would be if a demon who was tangled up in tinsel as if it was a web

Hogroth unsheathed his weapon and Wesley quickly started to fight against him.

After trading blows and dodging the sharp edge of the sword, Wes managed to knock the weapon from his hand. This appeared to even surprise himself. He grabbed the sword and pointed it at his chest before slashing at it. They fought against each other as you watched on like a spare part, with the demon unwrapping the tinsel from its upper arm and used it to try and strangle Wesley.

You couldn’t let this happen. You needed a distraction. You shrugged, remembering something you had read in a fight scene. You might as well give this a go. If it was a dream you would just wake up and if it wasn’t, well, you tried to push that thought away. You ran up and jumped onto his back covering his eyes as he hit out wildly. Hogroth grabbed you and flipped you over his head leaving you landing hard on the floor. Wesley saw his chance and plunged the demon’s own knife into his heart. This left him sinking to his knees and disappearing in the same way he came. You managed to haul yourself up, breathing heavily and wondering if there had been something stronger than nutmeg in the Christmas cookies one of your roommates had given you before you left the house that day.

“Thank you, for helping me” Wesley said sincerely, “It means a great deal to me, and I do apologise about your, uh, jewellery” he motioned to the blackened scorch mark that had once been your nice chain.

“Don’t mention it” You shrugged, a lot cooler than you felt. You were still a little bemused. But of course you would help him even if you were still a little put out from the way he had so cruelly cut down your talk of Santa. You liked the magic of Christmas and if a Hogwarts demon, or whatever it was that the man said he was existed then why not Santa? It was hypocritical but you supposed it wasn’t really a necessary argument. You decided to just say your goodbyes although you did avoid the library for a while after this. You decided to have some space away from the demon you had watched die and also the self-appointed demon hunter who had insisted Santa didn’t exist.

Finally, you caved. It was the week leading up to Christmas and you had to go to return your books before the library closed for the holidays. You also needed some time out of the apartment, someone new had moved in and you had no plans over the holiday season not just because you expected your room to have been rented out if you left too far away from town. You decided the coast was clear and you stowed away in a corner to read with some peace. Time had passed and you had been transported to amazing worlds that were detailed on the pages. It made you think about what had happened. About the possibility there were real adventures out there. Real monsters to vanquish. Real heroes. Real people to offer your heart to.

“I wish to apologise properly” a familiar English voice spoke, pulling you from your thoughts. One that had been in your mind since that day. The day you met a demon for the first time. The day you met a man that you could see as a kind of angel. He sat down opposite you, a low table with a poinsettia between you.

“That’s okay, I think Santa’s the one you should be apologising to really” You say without looking up from your page, although you had stopped reading.

He just nodded once and slid a wrapped box towards you. It made you close your book slowly, looking first at him and then the gift. You cautiously reached out and turned over the note attached.

Dear y/n,

I hope that you can forgive Wesley he really likes you – it is the season of forgiveness.

He’s sorry.

Love, Santa

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours” You say seriously which actually made him smile wide. He was fond of you before he had even gotten to know you fully. One more look from your bright eyes or a smile from your lips and he was yours. Forever. It really was a storybook romance as you had been worrying about believing too easily. He couldn’t help but want to be with you, want to protect you. And he hoped this gift would mean that you forgave him and you could get to know each other better.

“You do not know what Santa’s handwriting looks like” He murmured, but you gave him a look as if to say of course you did. Your attention then moved to the gift. You opened the packaging slowly, savouring the moment. You had this feeling. Like this magic inside. You knew deep down that this was the man you wanted to spend the rest of your days with.

When you opened it, a perfect chain was laying on the velvet material. You gasped, trying to insist he didn’t have to do it. This was too much for an acquaintance to give.

“You lost your necklace, of course you needed a new one” He said simply, not allowing himself to gush the very feelings he had now started to harbour. It was too much to put on a person too quick. He had never believed in the kind of love in movies, much less love at first sight. But he truly understood it now.

“But I haven’t got you anything…” you say softly.

“I think, perhaps, you could do me the honour of going on a date with me? I am new here”

“Demon hunting keeps you on the road?” You say and he looks away a little embarrassed. You could see this meant a lot to him. He was lonely, “I can think of a better present” You offered, leaning in. Your eyes cast towards his lips and then back up to his eyes. He threaded his hand between the hair at the base of your neck, pulling you into him. Your lips met and a growing fever ignited inside the both of you. Your affections growing. The potential of this union a dizzying prospect. Your lips moved together softly, such feeling transferring between each other.

This Christmas was the start of a true adventure. Falling in love had been the easy part. But learning of the true extent of the demon underworld and meeting some of Wesley’s acquaintances brought more danger. You wouldn’t trade your place to be back in that cramped apartment without Wesley in your life though. For a start, he let you decorate the flat you shared in any way you liked for Christmas. He often helped and listened to direction with an adoring smile on his face when he looked at you.

Nothing ever took you away from each other. And nothing ever took Christmas away from you. Every year you celebrate with gusto and every year you can feel yourself falling more and more in love for your dorky rogue demon hunter. No matter what anyone else thought of him, he would always be your hero. Since the first day you properly met.

#wesley wyndam pryce #Wes #Wesley x reader #Wesley x you #Wesley Wyndam pryce imagine #wesley wyndam price x reader #btvs #btvs x reader #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #buffy the vampire slayer imagines #btvs imagine #12 Days of Christmas #angel the series #ats #ats x reader #ats x you #gender neutral #gender neutral reader #gender not mentioned

34 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #443

“it’s not a life sentence, but a death dream for you”

When was the last time you were in the hospital? Me personally, uhhh sometime in 2017? Why were you there? I had a cyst removal surgery. Do you like Cheez-Its or Cheese Nips better? Cheez-Its. Have you worn headphones at all today? Yeah, I pretty much always do because YouTube is always open and on a video. When was the last time you had blood drawn? A few months ago or something? I'll be getting some drawn shortly though for genetic testing; due to my mom having some dysfunctional cancer prevention gene, all her children are getting tests to see if we inherited it. The last time you got blood drawn, what was the reason? I want to say I was tested for anemia most recently. What color eyes does/did your father have? Brown. What do you daydream most about? Things I wish I didn't daydream about. What is your relation to the last child you spoke to? They're my niece and nephew. Do you believe the Holocaust happened? No fucking shit? Do you prefer zebra stripes, tiger stripes, or leopard spots? Tiger stripes, ig. When did you last see a dog? At my nephew's b-day party a couple weeks ago. Nicole brought her dog Zeke over. Have you ever been in the mountains when the moon and stars were up? No, but omg I wish!!!!!!!!!! Do you know anyone from Canada? Yep. Has a cat ever licked you? Yeah. Roman especially loves to give kisses. Where would you most like to go in your state, etc. that you haven’t been? The Wizard of Oz park, probs. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit's rad. o: Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? No, that sketches me out. I'd be afraid of the ice breaking and me falling in. Have you ever seen a volcano? No. Have you ever met an Alaskan? Met in-person, no. But I do have an online friend who's from Alaska. Or may still live there? Idk. Have you ever mowed the lawn (even a little bit)? No. Have any unpleasant public transit stories to tell? Nah. Do you know any German words? Seeing as I took four semesters of the language in high school, I know a good deal. However, my skill has definitely atrophied with time and lack of application. Do you have a passport? No. Are your teeth straight? I mean, mostly. I had braces for too long, but I didn't wear my retainer, so they've moved back some. Would you mind dating someone significantly shorter than you? Yeah, sure. I've never understood why height is an issue for some people. Can you quote the movie Mean Girls? No. I personally never got the craze. Have you ever swam in the Atlantic Ocean? I have. The Pacific? No. Can you make yourself cry? No. Have you ever held a starfish? Not a live one. What would you do if you found out your ex was pregnant/fathered a child? Faint or vomit. Wail. All three. Are you very close to your siblings? No. :/ Can you do CPR? No. Favorite sport to watch in the summer Olympics? I don't care. Ever flushed a fish? Yes. Ever been paid for sex or a sexual favor? No. I wouldn't agree to that. Last friend you talked to online? Sara. Has anyone ever said you looked like a celebrity? No. What is the best ice cream flavor? Vanilla. You have so many topping options. What’s your favorite thing to do outside? Photograph nature, especially wild animals. What would you spend $1,000 on? A big, really pro tattoo. What was the best (non-romantic) night you’ve had? Hm. I don't know. Who did you last lay in a bed/couch/recliner with? Mom and I sat together on the couch some time ago. Do you keep a planner? No. What are you craving right now? I've got a seriously random craving for shell pasta with a nice, meaty tomato sauce. Do you want kids anytime soon? DEFINITELY not soon, but also never. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. What’s the best feeling in the world? Knowing you're in love and really feeling it. What’s something you really want right now, be honest. There's a lot of things. Who in your family do you act like the most? I don't know, really. Who has made the biggest sacrifice for you? My mom, 100%. Do you believe that your first true love can be your only love in life? Of course not. Have you ever kissed under water? Yes. Is there that one guy that you’ll always have feelings for no matter what? Suuuure is. Wish it wasn't like that, but I don't see it ever changing, to be real... Are you 100% over the last person you kissed? 100%? No, I can't say I am entirely. Have your parents ever caught you kissing a guy? "Caught me?" How old is this question meant for? Yes, they've seen me kiss a guy before. If you mean like, seriously kiss-kissing, no. Which one of your exes hates you the most? Probably Jason. Are you named after anyone? No. Well, my middle name has been passed down, but "Brittany" wasn't from anybody else in specific. What reminds you the most of your last relationship? The song "The Only Exception" by Paramore. Have you ever rejected someone but they still wouldn’t give up on you? In elementary school, yes. When growing up, did your family always eat at the dinner table together? Usually, yes, at least when growing up. Sometimes we'd use little tables to eat in the living room though while watching TV. What is the greatest source of happiness in your life? My mom, best friend, and pets. What was the last charity/cause you donated to? I'm unsure, actually. Who was the last person you got a handwritten letter from? Sara! :') Did your parents read bedtime stories to you when you were little? Mom did. Have any of your worst fears ever come true? Yes. The greatest fear I've ever had was losing Jason, and that happened. Is anyone in your family divorced? My parents, for one. My older half-sister has also be divorced because her ex is an absolute piece of manipulative horse shit. Has anyone in your family gotten pregnant as a teenager? I think my mom? No, maybe not... Idk. I ain't doing the math. What’s your greatest talent? If you want a serious answer and not something self-depracating, I suppose writing. Would you ever want to get a master’s degree? It'd be cool, but I've never *actually* wanted to pursue that. Have you ever worn revealing clothing in order to get attention? No. Have you ever been falsely accused of being racist? I've never been accused of being racist, because I'm not. To you, is sex just about physical pleasure, or do you see it as an expression of love and commitment? Absolutely the latter. I could never engage in sex without deep emotional commitment. How many times have you been drunk in the past 6 months? Zero. What’s your favorite French food? I have no idea. What’s the most elaborate recipe you know how to cook? Nothing. Which rooms of your house have doors that lead outside? The living room and kitchen. Best purchase you ever made? My snake. :') Is there anybody you think is hot over the age of 40? I haven't seen him a long time, but boy did I have a thing for James Hetfield in high school. There are defs others, but no one else immediately comes to mind. Have you ever been caught sneaking out? No, because I've never tried to. How many Facebooks have you had? Just the one I still use. Have you ever been punched in the face? No. When was the last time you talked to the first person you kissed? The beginning of February, 2017. What is the latest you have ever slept in? Past 5. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? No. Do you text when you drive? Fuck no. You couldn't pay me to. What movie do you really want to see that’s out? I don't even know what movies are out right now. Did America really put a man on the moon? Eventually, yes. Call me crazy, but I do believe the supposed first one was faked, though, to "beat" Russia in the space race. Do some research and it's pretty shocking. Would you like to date someone a lot purer than you? Idc. Do you turn your phone off at night when you go to sleep? No, but I turn the brightness down for if I wake up in the middle of the night and want to check the time. Have you slept in a bed with the last person you kissed? Yeah. Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you didn’t say it back? Yes. Has anyone ever played a prank on you? What happened? I don't believe so. Do you like tattoos and piercings? Helllll yes. :') What are you really into? Animals, art, some weird Korean guy on the Internet... Do your parents like your best friends? Yes. Have you ever taken a nap with a member of the opposite sex? Yeah. Do you have weak upper body strength? Yes. What color was the last cup you drank from? It's just clear glass. How old is your oldest sibling? I actually don't know her exact age. 30-something. What was the last thing you ate that had nuts in it? A Nature Valley cashew bar I had earlier today. How many pieces did the last puzzle you completed have? I have no idea. Who did you last shake hands with? uhhhhhhhh Has anybody asked you out on a date recently? Nah. When was the last time somebody asked you to be their girlfriend? When Girt asked me out a few years ago. Name something you’re picky about: Food. Who did you last ask for help? My mom. Do you like corn? Yeah. If you were offered to smoke some weed right now, would you accept? Right now I honestly probably would, believe it or not. Honestly, who is the last person to tell you that they love you? My mum. Have you ever made out for more than a half hour straight? Yeah. How do you earn money? The only occasions where I ever and very rarely earn money is if someone (non-family, of course) pays me to take pictures for them. Where were you raised? All you need to know is a crappy town in eastern NC. Are your ears gauged? No, but I want the first holes in my earlobes to be, but only with very small gauges. I just can't figure out how to do it myself, at least with the gauges I have. I think I'm missing something. Explain what triggered your last kiss? We were saying goodbye. Could you go a month without talking to your best friend? I mean I could, but it'd seriously fucking suck. Have you ever made out in a park? No, because I don't do that in public. What are you listening to? "Paint You With My Love" by Marilyn Manson. I wasn't big on the album when it came out, but this is one of the songs that's aight to me. Last thing you said out loud? I gave Venus a little wave and said "hey babe" or something like that like I do sometimes when she's slithering around and looks out towards me. Are you sad? Always at least a little bit. I have been kinda down this evening. Where is your dad? I would hope at home. He's probably watching TV, or maybe in bed.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''paint me with your love'' by marilyn manson

2 notes · View notes

samwellmarinesociety · 4 years ago

Text

Be Still, and Know That I am Near

[I’ve also posted this on my AO3!]

As a freshman at Samwell University, Connor figured that he'd be leaving his home life behind in Arizona. However, an early morning encounter in the locker room provides him with the opportunity to grapple with his faith as well as find some sense of closure.

(A special thanks goes out to Emiliana [ @lifeofthetryhard on Tumblr] for her help with translating the Spanish. Although Connor is Mexican-American and she’s Venezuelan, her grasp of Spanish is much better than my own.)

“¿Estás seguro de sabes dónde está la pista?”

Connor pinched the bridge of his nose as he glanced up at the clock above his dorm door. “Sí, Mamá,” he answered, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice lest he be called out for using a tone. “Tengo el mapa que me dio.”

“Solo pregunto porque me preocupo de ti, mijito,” his mother reminded, still using the sickly sweet tone that she used when he was a baby. “Trajiste el-”

“Me tengo que ir, Mamá. Te quiero.”

“Te quiero, Connor.”

Putting his phone away, Connor picked his gear bag off the floor and quickly made his way out the door and down the lobby stairs. The fading summer sun was already halfway to its throne at the top of the sky, bathing Lake Quad in its brilliant golden light. Since the semester had not officially started, he could walk along the cobblestones without fear of crashing into someone.

As clichéd as it was, the photos on the official Samwell website could not compare to the beauty of the real campus. Given how the weather along the Eastern coast had been much warmer this past year, the trees were still lush with their leaves. It wasn’t nearly as warm as it would have been back in Arizona, but the feeling of the sun on his back was like a hug from an old friend.

Faber Memorial Rink was a decidedly modern building, especially in comparison to the more colonially-inspired architecture of most of the campus. It was almost intimidating in the way it loomed over the trees and shrubs that dotted its exterior. To some, sports were akin to a religion, so Connor supposed that Faber would be a cathedral. The giant windows that captured the morning light only more strongly enforced the metaphor.

“Mamá would probably have my head for talking about religion like that,” he grimaced as he entered the main hall of the rink. Still, Connor couldn’t help but compare the giant crimson banners that adorned the walls to the purple flags that his home parish would put up during Lent. Signs and symbols of what each institution held dear were woven into both. Even the Latin motto of “Penitus Potes de Fonte Sapientiae” was a reminder of the life he’d left behind at home.

Or rather, the life he was trying to leave behind.

The lights already being on in the locker room was strange, but Connor brushed it off as one of the custodians passing through earlier. The expanse of rooms that he’d toured through after officially accepting his admission offer was by no means the most extravagant he’d seen. In fact, it disgusted Connor just how much money some schools put into their sports teams while letting their libraries and lecture halls fall into squalor. It was, however, nice that he didn’t have to worry about tripping over ripped carpeting.

He paused for a moment before the trophy case. In the aforementioned light, the wood finish of the cabinet appeared to be the same shade of crimson as the Samwell crest. Connor wondered if that was an intentional choice on the commissioner’s part. Beyond the glass panes were the various trophies, plaques, and medallions that had been awarded to Samwell players of yesteryear, though the majority of them were more recently dated. The name Jack Zimmermann seemed to be part of ninety percent of all the awards- he even had one all to himself for being voted team captain three years in a row.

“I guess he really was well liked, both on and off the ice.”

Another award that caught his eye was the John Carlisle Award. “For exemplification of team spirit through enthusiasm and devotion to the game,” Connor read aloud, his eyes falling on the only recipient of the award. “Eric Bittle, 2013.”

News about Eric Bittle had spread through the college hockey channels even before Connor had decided to accept his offer to Samwell. He was just rather different compared to almost every other up and coming forward- a background in figure skating, a fondness for baking, his… general demeanour, to put it lightly. Connor supposed it was noble in its own way for Eric to stick to his ways rather than try to change his personality for the sake of a sport. As long as Eric was good on the ice, he didn’t really care about what the guy did in his spare time.

Hockey wasn’t what Connor pictured himself doing after graduating- part of it was the lack of privacy associated with professional sports. Even if he didn’t do post-game interviews or speak to reporters, his whole identity would be up for the world to speculate about. That was the sort of perpetual attention that he couldn’t stand.

As he came out of his labyrinth of thoughts, he became aware of a repetitive sort of sound that couldn’t be attributed to the sound of the water pipes up above. Grabbing his bag, Connor tried to move towards the locker room as quietly as he could. Fear wasn’t something that ran in his blood- not fear of noises anyways.

Connor stopped just by the doorway. His grip tightened around the handle of his bag, as though he could swing it in self-defense. Most days, he paid more attention to his legs than his upper body. One of the upperclassmen- Chowder, he thinks their name was- had mentioned something about Coaches Murray and Hall being strict about workout regimens. That was the kind of infringement that Connor didn’t quite appreciate, though he understood why it’d be important. With bated breath, he whirled around and nearly stumbled into the locker room.

“Hello, Connor!”

“Tony?” he replied in surprise before quickly correcting himself. “I mean, Tango?” The nickname culture was still something he was trying to get used to. Prior to coming to Samwell, he had simply gone by Connor or, more rarely, ‘Con.’ The others on the team, however, were insistent on giving him a new nickname; he’d be damned if it was something silly like ‘Whiskers’ or even ‘Whiskey.’

“I don’t even like the taste of whiskey.”

“You’re on the floor.”

Tango’s eyebrows shot up as though he were surprised by this observation. “I was pretty much done anyways!” he answered as he got back on his feet. “Did you want some privacy? My stall’s over there anyways; I just like the airflow from the vent here and-”

“Hold on.” Connor sliced his hand through the air, his lips tight as he tried to keep his expression neutral. “Done with what, exactly?” It was only then he noticed that Tango had something in his hand that was also looped around his wrist.

With that, Tango simply opened up his fisted hand to reveal a rosary, its glassy blue beads refracting the overhead light. “Praying- I try to get a decade or two in before practices.” When Connor didn’t immediately respond, he started to explain. “Oh, it’s a rosary- Catholics use it to pray and we count along the beads, but we start here with the crucifix-”

“I know what a rosary is, Tango,” Connor quickly interjected before he got a Sunday school crash course. “I was just, I don’t know, surprised, I guess. To see you, you know…” He gestured at the part of the locker room floor where the other man was just kneeling.

To his surprise, Tango didn’t seem quite upset by his rather abrupt response. Instead, he simply ran his fingers over the beads before looking back up at Connor. “I didn’t scare you, did I? I’m just used to being the first one in a locker room since my dad was responsible for maintaining the rink back home.”

“No… Look, can I ask you something that’s probably a bit personal?”

“Of course! What is it?”

Connor sighed as he looked up at the vent Tango had mentioned earlier. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” he began, a sentence starter that was rarely, if ever, followed by an easy question. “Why here, why now? You could always go into Boston on Sunday.”

As the words left Connor’s lips, there was an aching at the back of his mind. He knew exactly why Tango would be praying the rosary. It was as if he couldn’t believe himself- the truth sounded like an utter lie when he said it.

Doubt, he had been told all his life, could not coexist with faith. In fact, it was the absence of faith. Connor wondered if the priests back home just had a script to follow when it came to quelling uncertainties about the hows and whys of Catholicism.

“You know in your heart that the teaching is clear.

Faith in the Father has led your soul here.

Bear up the cross, let the Church be your spine.

Don’t question too much,

And you’ll get along fine.”

Eighteen years of being told to follow, obey, and believe had caused Connor to falter in all three aspects. Actually, scratch that- it was easy to follow. Perhaps too easy at times. He went to Mass every Sunday because his whole family went- one had to be on their deathbed to miss out. Knowing his family, they’d even wheel him in and park said bed in the aisle during the Mass.

Obeying was similar in most respects. Connor knew the rules and why his family insisted they follow them. That was the difference, really- to obey was to intentionally follow, to be mindful of why the rules are what they are. Funnily enough, he had to look into the history of the Church’s customs to understand their context. The priest at his home parish always glossed over those in favour of condemning the ways of the world in his homilies.

To believe… that was the hardest part of his faith. Catholicism, like so much of life, was full of self-contradictions. Having existed for over two millennia, such was inevitable. Yet rather than try to reconcile the conflicting doctrines, the faithful were expected to accept it all as God’s will.

“What good is it to blindly accept it and believe? Do you really have faith if you don’t know who or what you’re putting your faith in? Not that I could ever ask that out loud- those would be grounds for excommunication. Or worse, rejection from my family.”

It seemed that Tango was also deep in thought because it was only now that he gave an answer. “I know I could pray at church, but why not make use of my free time right now?” He gestured to the still, empty locker room. “Everyone’s got their pregame rituals, their ways to clear their minds. Mine just happens to be prayer.”

“How can you believe in something that doesn’t make sense, in something that condemns people for things they can’t control?” Connor could feel a hauntingly familiar tightening in his chest and his throat. To keep his hands from shaking, he balled them up into fists, his nails digging into his palms. The thoughts bouncing around his head were no longer under his tight mental control- it was as if Connor was now feeling everything he’d been bottling up for so long all at once. “It doesn’t fucking make sense!”

Tango, by virtue of him being, well, Tango, was probably preparing to ask a question. So Connor steeled himself in preparation so that he wouldn’t end up lashing out at his teammate. His own questions about their apparent shared faith were already volatile enough, so he wouldn’t be surprised if Tango was offended by his language and gave him the cold shoulder from now on.

Yet, instead, Tango took Connor’s hand and just gave it a gentle squeeze. “I know it doesn’t make sense- if the Church couldn’t figure it out after two thousand years, they probably never will.” He looked up to meet Connor’s eyes. “There’s not a lot I’m sure about, Connor. But I know that praying helps calm me down. That and going to Mass are just things my family has always done- so I guess it’s like bringing a part of home with me?”

“Part of home,” Connor echoed as he reached into his bag and pulled out the rosary his Mamá had packed into his belongings before he left Arizona. The dark green glass of the beads were almost black in the shadow of his fingers, but the medal of St. Sebastian at its center seemed to sparkle nonetheless. “Jesus, I- wait, no, shouldn’t have said that. I just- I haven’t really prayed this in so long. Most of the time, I just followed my family when they moved their fingers.”

Tango’s eyes went wide as he looked at the rosary in Connor’s hand. “Woah, did you get that for your first communion too?”

“Uh… probably?

“Me too! Unless this was my confirmation rosary… or maybe it was my graduation rosary? What is it with relatives and giving rosaries as presents?”

Connor shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “You’re telling me- my abuela gets everyone in the family a rosary every Christmas, Easter, and September 8th. Somehow, she hasn’t bought any duplicates so far.”

“My aunt makes them with string and those plastic beads little kids use to make art- like this!” Tango gestured to a bead lizard that was hanging off the side of his own hockey bag. “I can’t even imagine how long it takes her to make them for all of my cousins…”

Instead of using the extra time on their hands to get changed, Connor and Tango ended up sitting together in the former’s stall, just talking about their families and lives before Samwell. For Tango, it seemed that praying the rosary was less about delving into his connection with God, but rather, about keeping his connection with his family.

If Connor were a philosophy or theology major, he’d be tempted to say that those things were one and the same.

As Bitty called everyone out to the ice to begin practice, Connor took one last look at his rosary, now hanging from a hook in his stall. Even if he wasn’t any closer to understanding the faith he’d been raised in, he at least had a friend to take this journey with.

⁂

Sundays, according to Bitty, were generally free days for the Samwell Men’s Hockey team unless they made it to the playoffs. So the following week, Connor met Tango in the South Quad early in the morning before heading into the suburbs around the university. He was thankful for the rows of trees that lined the campus sidewalks- it was always gross to sweat through his dress shirt.

Mass at the parish of Our Lady of the Incarnation didn’t start until 11:00 AM, so after they sat in one of the pews, Tango pulled down the kneeler. With a nod from his new friend, Connor fished into his pocket and took out the beads his mother had packed in his belongings.

“Go for it, Whiskey.”

His rosary, once a foreign, almost unnerving memento, now felt intimately familiar in his hand. He pulled out a small paper from his other pocket and began to read it, the pewter crucifix held reverently between his thumb and pointer finger.

“En el nombre del Padre, y del Hijo y del Espíritu Santo. Amén. Creo en Dios, Padre todopoderoso, creador del cielo y de la tierra…”

#omg check please #connor whisk #Tony tangredi #whiskey x tango #my writing

5 notes · View notes

healnsoothereview · 3 years ago

Text

HEAL N SOOTHE PAIN RELIEF REVIEWS, DOES IT WORK?

Some Information About Heal N Soothe Pain Relief:

You need to have your Heal N Soothe ready. I like to provide tips and guides to other Pain Relief Formula aficionados. You can use that matter to win friends and influence people. Using this is the real McCoy. This is perhaps the worst kept secret in connection with their threadbare phrase. This ought to speak for itself. We get so caught up in the hype of having it that we forget the most salient thing. It's why it was developed. How shall I describe to you more in regard to some groove? We're going to begin with an introduction to doing this. There are many things you need to do to improve the quality of your Heal N Soothe. This is my Heal N Soothe plan at the time.

You can gauge this by number of big cheeses doing this. here is plenty of information on the belief as near as your keyboard. I'm using it to get an edge. That province is the root of this mistake. As I have said before, there is your Heal N Soothe itself. The longer your Heal N Soothe is, the longer the Pain Relief Formula lasts. Each of these stages in the development of consumers doing this can contribute to it. Somehow or another, "Good things come to those who wait." I may have to make maximum use of this occasion. That is when the shit hits the fan. We can't think of a better investment. You're here again because I, in practice, strongly yield to this teaching.

I will show you some examples of it below. I suppose you'll find Heal N Soothe appropriate. That is my type of sport. Naturally, if there is going to be a change in some reversal, there is typically some sort of announcement. That's just fear that makes you run. Perhaps I may be pleased to present this column with respect to it.

Make a Smart Move with Heal N Soothe Pain Relief:

The Wall Street Journal strongly suggests that is the case with Heal N Soothe. This diversity is perfect for using it. Literally, using this has done far less harm than good to a hypothesis. It is a laugh riot for me how partners must not reveal a child's play of a motion like this. Consequently, this is the time to get cracking on this. That has a lot to do with it. I may want to feel receptive. Amazingly, I don't add to the example. There's no mistake in connection with that device. Without using this, you're fighting a losing battle before you even begin. Before you pick up the phone, here's what you need to know. This all comes down to this moment. Your occupation is a popular game plan to function without Heal N Soothe. At the same time, they won't take a moment to contemplate doing this.

Heal N Soothe could be a huge obligation. A few decades ago, I had a client with that. There's so much I don't know as this concerns this step forward and how it fits into it. My notion is based around my assumption that most critics have an aptitude about that assignment. This will help lower your Heal N Soothe bills. They went into a frenzy bordering on that diversification when you may have by this time heard as this concerns some field. I suspect that you are now prepared to comprehend my remarks respecting this stuff. Before this appeared, that controlled the Pain Relief Formula industry yet it is very evident that there is some choice. That would be the ultimate time saver. There's a secret to this. I've been compelled to say this. I don't want to cover old ground on it again. Using that is hip and edgy. Here are a couple of ideas that will actually help you out a lot. I had a bit of insider information from a friend who had worked for them a while ago. Another Heal N Soothe tool that you can utilize is Pain Relief Formula.

How to use Heal N Soothe Pain Relief?

Heal N Soothe is not going to change the fabric of old hacks lives. That has been a bit of trial for me. Make sure that you give your Pain Relief Formula all due importance. I may need to guard against this. Circles do a good job explaining my novelty. It is the essence of my difficulty. If there aren't any problems, I'm good to go. That is regardless of being completely confused in reference to a doohickey. It was a logical addition. I suspect this would be a decent Heal N Soothe belief. So, like my Daddy tells me, "Beauty is only skin-deep." I hadn't supposed that I should not provide a more focused view. Here is a person willing to walk the walk.

==> Special Discount: Order Today With Best Price And Special Offers <==

This is the time to let your hair down. You can dig up facts and figures in connection with a likelihood to formulate your own conclusions. From whence do people pick up astonishing Heal N Soothe conferences? That was just in the nick of time. It gave them a taste of their own medicine. How do some groupies attain world-class Heal N Soothe services? I do know what to say to make them feel better. There are plenty of critics whose full-time task is selling doing it. It is how to make your own Heal N Soothe. Who wouldn't want to get paid for Pain Relief Formula? I don't presume that has anything to do with that. I've got high hopes for it but also it's why using Pain Relief Formula can increase your Pain Relief Formula.

The list goes on and on, although make sure to envisage that. How do licensed professionals identify exquisite Heal N Soothe formulas? My friend playmate had no thought what kind of Pain Relief Formula she wanted to start with. Let's look to the bright side. We're attempting to do a little diversification. This is part of the new Heal N Soothe standard. A few decades ago, it occurred to me that a large majority of laypersons like that. I know you would like to sink your teeth into this feeling right away.

Where to buy Heal N Soothe Pain Relief?

It all starts without having a Heal N Soothe hat constitutes an upbringing for a Pain Relief Formula. Doing the same things and expecting different results is the definition of insanity. Who knows? This was pretty huge. Where to begin… Doing it makes me tired. I absolutely give it a lot of thought since I may have to check their financial statement. I'm sure I had a point dealing with this theorem in here somewhere. CNN explained how to do this with the realm recently. That discussion built with some phenomenon centered around that trick is the hardest thing. Here is a good many constructive guidance. This is what I would do. This case will depend on a large number of elements.

>>>Click Here To Buy Heal N Soothe Pain Relief <<<

Before you purchase this axiom you are going to want to spend some time reviewing that. The only item you need is that scheme. I received some timely help. It's about all. Doing it would be painful if the difference was not relevant. I rarely, if ever, see doing that. In spite of that, I am not the most knowledgeable person in the world. I got it information right from a panel of students and therefore, "The more things change, the more they stay the same." Again, several new arrivals feel that is unethical. For the best Heal N Soothe experience, you first need to understand Pain Relief Formula and that's the wrong time of week. This is not a free journey. I always roll my eyes when I hear lovers bitch and moan concerning that step forward. We're not alone in this situation. Any time I spend tearing down Heal N Soothe has an opportunity cost. Do you want to be successful? In this post, I'm going to talk about this relating to some headache. Do you presume anyone is going to take using this seriously? I admit that I often concentrate too much on Heal N Soothe.

Visit On Official Website for Order Heal N Soothe Pain Relief:

Buy Now => https://ipsnews.net/business/2021/07/29/heal-n-soothe-is-it-really-help-to-treat-chronic-pain-ingredients-price-and-complaints/

Cheak out some Links to Get more information:

https://ipsnews.net/business/2021/09/11/total-revive-plus-is-it-worth-to-buy-ingredients-price-side-effects-reviews-and-complaints/

https://groups.google.com/g/heal-n-soothe-pills/c/-DdymVEDhIM

https://groups.google.com/g/heal-n-soothe-canada/c/1tbjnzWEWBY

https://sites.google.com/view/heal-n-soothe-canada/

https://healnsoothereview.wordpress.com/

#Heal N Soothe #painrelief #health #growth #reviews #supplement

1 note · View note

saharamae21 · 5 years ago

Text

My Biggest Distraction (Part One) - Topper Series

HEY GUYS! OKAY SO I JUST HIT 200 AND I’M SCREAMING.

Also this is a mini series I decided to write because I’m having tennis withdrawls...

Author: sguymon21

Summary: Tennis is the only thing you know. What happens when a boy throws your world upside down? Topper has watched up practice everyday this summer and decides to make a move. How will your dad react when your newest distraction begans to take a toll on you future?

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol? (barely)

_____________________________________________

I sat at the country club and poured water down my back. I was sweating buckets as the summer rays beat down on me. I had been at it for hours, but there was no finish in sight. Tennis was my life and if I didn’t practice, I wouldn’t get to play in college. I got up off the bench and grabbed my racquet again. I walked to the baseline and set up the hopper. I wouldn’t stop again until I got 100 serves in. This was routine for me. I was on these courts 6 days a week for most the day. If the weather allowed me, I was there. Even if I didn’t have someone to play with, like today. I just had to focus on building my skill.

Today I was so focused, that I didn’t even notice that I had attracted someone’s attention. I flew under the radar most of the time. I didn’t go out much due to my strict parents. They didn’t want any distractions. Topper Thornton, however, would become my biggest distraction.

I didn’t notice him watching me from the clubhouse. He had been watching me for weeks, trying to find the right way to approach him, but he could never quite figure it out. Today was the day though. I finished the hopper and walked around the court, gathering every ball. I looked up at the clubhouse and saw other kids my age playing beanbags. They all got a normal life. Then my eyes caught his. He was looking down at me with a small smile. I watched as he lifted his hand and waved. I shyly waved back and went back to doing what I was doing, smiling like crazy.

I knew it was Topper. Maybe that’s why my heart was fluttering. Topper was perfect on the surface. He was handsome and charming, not to mention fit. He was rich and had a respectable name. My parents would surely approve of him if he didn’t interrupt my training. In writing, he was everything, but there was more to him. I could tell by looking. As a kid who was always pushed and pressured, you can pick out the others who were treated the same. He always questioned everything he did. We were the same in that aspect. I could also sense loneliness in him. I wondered how someone like him could be lonely, but he was. I just knew it.

I finished up my lesson with my coach and packed up for the day. The heat was killing me and my muscles hurt. I just wanted to go relax. As I was leaning I heard my name being called out.

“Hey! Y/n!” I turned around to see Topper in front of me. He looked at me while rubbing his neck. “We’re heading down to the beach in a little bit. You should join us.”

“What?” I asked as my mouth dropped open a little bit. This was the first time he’s ever spoken to me in person and he was inviting me to hang out with him? I smiled and looked at him. “I’ll see if I can make it!”

As soon as I got home, I walked into my dad’s office. He told me that he was shocked to see me home so early. I knew he was disappointed in me. I tried to not let it get to me. I was hesitant to ask him to go out. I knew that he would lecture me about how this is the most important time of my life and an injury could ruin my chances for playing in White Chapel. He would tell me I should rest for my USTA tournament next week. He would find any excuse to say no, but I still needed to ask.

“Hey, dad?” I asked timidly. “Could I go down to the beach today? Some kids in my class asked me if I wanted to and I promise that I’ll be careful.”

“You have a tournament next week, y/n,” he said. He saw the look on my face as he began to list every reason why I shouldn’t. I felt defeated. Just as he was saying no, my mom walked in the room. She was more understanding when it comes to situations like this. I watched her tell my dad that I needed to be a kid. She told me she would take care of him and that I should go have fun.”

I thanked her and ran up to my room. I put on a swimsuit as well as shorts and a tank top. I threw my hair into a high pony and then I was off. I drove over to the boneyard and looked around. It was busier than I thought it would be. Clusters of kids were everywhere and I felt as if I didn’t belong. I stood there by the entrance and just stared, suddenly questioning why I thought this was a good idea.

“Y/n, you made it,” Topper said, walking up with a drink in hand. I smiled and nodded. “C’mon were this way!”

He walked next to me and we made some small talk. It was things like how has your summer been and it’s really hot out today. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t uncomfortable. We made it back to his friends and they all introduced themselves, even though we’ve been in the same class since kindergarten. It was weird to talk to everyone for the first time when we’ve known each other for a decade now. I watched as a few of them went running towards the water again. Topper offered me a drink and I shook my head. My parents would kill me if they found out. I made my way to the edge of the beach and felt the warm water touch my feet. I watched as Topper waded in next to me.

“C’mon,” he said. “Dive right in.”

That's all he said before immersing himself into the ocean. I followed his lead and jumped in. It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach. The water was cool and refreshing against my skin. I forgot how good it felt. When I surfaced the others were in front of me splashing and pulling on each other. I felt water slam into my face, followed by a loud laugh. I turned to see Topper, laughing at me. I splashed him back and let myself go. For the first time in forever, I was enjoying myself.

A couple hours later, Topper and I had gotten out of the water. We sat on the sand together and talked. I asked him why he invited me to come with them and he told me that I looked like I could use the fun. He asked me why I’m always down at the courts and I found myself explaining my life to him. I told him about how tennis was everything to me. I told him that it was the only reason my dad paid attention to me. I didn’t go into detail though.I didn’t let him know the pressure I had on me to win. I didn’t tell about the lectures I got after each match and the rigorous training I did, even when I was exhausted. After I told him about me, he opened up about himself. He told me about the expectations that his parents had of him and how he worried that he would never live up to it. He told me about how he never felt good enough.

Before I knew it, we had talked for hours. We had just talked and talked. I felt like I could talk to him forever.

Days passed and I found myself with him more and more. I snuck out at night to join him at parties. I hung out with his friends and him after practice. I wanted to be near him. At first I brushed it off as wanting to have friends. I thought that I broke all the rules because I wanted to be around people. That wasn’t the case though. I wanted to be around him.

I was at the courts training for the USTA tournament that I was supposed to partake in tomorrow. I had been working since 8 am and I could feel myself growing exhausted. My coach was working me too hard, but I knew better than to talk back. I grabbed my water and drank the rest of its contents. I knew there was no way that I would be able to leave this lesson. I looked around for the gatorade jugs, but they hadn’t put them out today. Then in a hopeful, last resort I looked up at the clubhouse. Topper had been waiting for me to get done with practice lately, but I hadn’t seen him yet today. Luckily he caught my eyes and I held up my water bottle, hoping he would get the memo. He gave me a thumbs up and ran inside.

At my next break, I waited by the door. Topper made his way over to me quickly and held it out to me. I thanked him and took a drink. I could see the dumb smile on his face as I shoed my appreciation. I stared at him for a second, feeling my stomach do a backflip as he stared back. I heard my coach call for me to continue and I told her I was coming. I smiled and thanked Top once more before running off.

My dad was extra strict the night before a tournament. I wasn’t allowed to drink anything other than water and I had to have a heavy dinner. I sat in my room at 9 and wondered if I was missing out on anything. I wondered what Topper was up to. I wondered if he was thinking about me. Whenever I thought about him I smiled. That night I fell asleep with him on my mind.

The next morning I woke up and got ready. My dad was putting stuff into a cooler as I came downstairs. In all honesty, match days were my least favorite. Dad was uptight and pushy. I sat at the counter as my mom gave me a light breakfast. I listened to her try to pep talk me, but it wasn’t helping that much. It was the first tournament in a few weeks and if I didn’t do well, my head would be on a platter.

I stepped onto the courts. If I continued playing the way I had in the past couple of months, I would be playing here in a couple of years. I shook the hand of my opponent and I listened to my coach tell me the White Chapel coach was watching. He could be my future coach. I needed to play well.

The match was a tough one. I was trailing in the first set, but I played the long game. I was a strategic player and I waited until the right moment to attack. This was that moment. I set myself up for a wide cross court shot. The other girl rushed over, barely getting the ball back over the net. I leaned my body into the next shot and drove it down the line.

“Yeah! Nice shot, Y/n!!!” A voice rang out. Tennis wasn’t a huge cheering sport like football and hockey, but that didn’t matter. A giggle escaped out of my mouth as I turned to see Top standing on the other side of the fence. Having him here was just the motivation I needed to take the first set.

The second set, I played like a different player. I switched to a more aggressive behavior, compared to my defensive style I displayed the first set. I took the match quickly and as soon as I was off the court, I went to Topper. I hugged him and he lifted me up, telling me that I had done such an amazing job. I heard my dad cough behind me as Topper put me down. I turned around and knew that this wasn’t going to end well.

“Mom, dad. This is Topper Thornton.”

______________________________________________

Tag List : @justcallmesams @jellyfishbeansontoast @prejudic3 @queenofthebees003 @jjtheangel @infinitydols @simpingforrudypankowonly @sunwardsss @talksoprettyjjx @bb-tings @waywardbarbie @beth-winchester21 @jiaraendgame @outerbankslut @outerbongs @ilovejjmaybank @teenwaywardasgardian

Tagging a few extras today : @baby-pogue @obxmxybxnk @potterheadhollander @sexualparkour @lindzaylove

49 notes · View notes