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punkpoemprose · 2 years

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A Convenient Arrangement Part 12

Universe: Canonverse Arranged Marriage AU Rating:T Length: 3530 Words A/N: Thank you to the friends that lovingly remind me to write sometimes. Next chapter will be the engagement party, I promise!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part10] [Part 11]

The festival preparations were back in full swing in no time. Kristoff saw Anna every night now, they shared his bed every evening and woke whenever one or both of them were summoned by morning knocks against his door. Getting to bed together was an immense effort on both of their parts, but it was something that he knew they both treasured after long days with barely a glance at each other.

Given it was a festival in celebration of their marriage, he couldn’t help but feel that they really should have been allowed more time together to prepare, but unfortunately neither of them made their own schedules.

Anna promised at night, between sleepy kisses, that it would get better after the event was over. She told him that once they started their regular duties they would be apart less, or at least their time apart would be more regularly scheduled which would allow them to meet more often throughout the day. He wasn’t certain that she wholly believed it herself, but despite this, the hope was enough to buoy them both through the days of preparation. The quick morning kisses and embraces did their fair share to serve as encouragement as well.

“Does it fit well my lord?”

Kristoff smiled at his reflection in the mirror. His normal tailor, Anders Nilsson, had been more than happy to take up a royal contract, and had profusely thanked both Kristoff and Kai throughout the entire process of his making Kristoff’s festival wear. He’d had to ask him to stop using the words “thank you” after a while, simply for the fact that the man couldn’t stop saying it. Kristoff knew how much the commission had meant to the man, he didn’t want him to feel the need to express it in the first place, let alone repeat it.

He’d outdone himself. The suit was mostly black with green, purple, and golden details that marked him as a member of the royal family and were enough to make the garments stand out in a crowd. They weren’t so overembellished that they felt ostentatious but were rather inspired by his own plainer sensibilities.

Most blessedly it fit, and he could imagine himself wearing it without passing out.

“Yes,” he breathed with great appreciation toward the tailor, “Thank you so much Anders. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you to put this together so quickly.”

“You’d be surprised Kri… my lord.”

He settled into a deep bow and Kristoff could have snorted with how unnatural it looked given the man never had cause to bow before in his life until Kristoff had married Anna. There was no point to bow to harvesters and merchants who were just as common as you.

“Anders, please, just call me Kristoff.”

Kai smiled in the mirror behind him. He’d been encouraging him for weeks to insist upon others referring to him by his title, but evidently his valet found no issues with a man being informal with his own tailor.

“Kristoff,” the tailor said and visibly relaxed before continuing, “It didn’t take too terribly long. My wife likes to do the embroidery and she’s so far along now that she was practically begging me to give her something to do in her chair. She balanced the whole project on her belly as she worked. She insists, though I hope it’s not too forward, that I give her appreciation to your valet for sending her the exact patterns the Princess’s dressmaker was using for her gown’s embroidery.”

He thought for a moment about Ander’s wife. When he’d last seen her, she’d barely been showing. By now she must certainly be as round with child as the tailor described. He was pleased that despite the effort they must have expended working on his clothes, that he was able to send some money their way for that soon to arrive child. He nearly lost himself in a passing thought about how Anna might look with her hands pressed lovingly to her rounded abdomen, the ring he still needed to give her on her finger.

He forced himself out of the daydream. He’d told Anna that they never needed to have children together, that they never even needed to be intimate, and here he was dreaming of her carrying his child, instead of paying attention to the words that had just been said to him.

Patterns? For her gown’s embroidery?

Kristoff turned back to Kai then, who was smiling as broad as Kristoff ever saw him. “Anna and I are going to match?”

He wasn’t certain as to why it made his heart leap in the way it did, to imagine himself and Anna dressed as a pair. Everyone knew of their marriage, there was no doubting that, and yet a visual cue to their bond thrilled him in a way he’d never imagined clothes pleasing him. So many things that had never mattered to him before, now mattered because of Anna.

Kai nodded, his grin schooling itself somewhat into a more neutral expression.

“At the behest of the Queen, and the Princess’s as well, of course. She wanted no question of who her husband was. I have a feeling the regalia will leave no room for that question, but primarily I think the pair of them were hoping for a united front in every possible detail. Which brings me to our need to take our leave from this room, I’m afraid we’re overdue for our next appointment of the day my lord.”

Kristoff couldn’t help but to sigh, shaken from his momentary quiet revelry. He’d been rushed along every day for well over a week now, any of the relaxation of his and Anna’s “day off” was a distant memory now.

“Fine then, I’ll get changed.”

He looked down at the comfortably fitted suit and felt, strangely, like he didn’t want to take it off.

“Thank you, Anders, it’s fantastic. Please thank your wife for me and know that there will be more requests coming your way very soon. There will be no need for a rush of course, if I don’t see you again before your babe is born, my best wishes to you both for a happy and healthy child.”

Kristoff watched the man open and close his mouth, undoubtedly stifling a “thank you” Kristoff didn’t really want to hear in return.

There are some perks to a royal title certainly.

***

Anna hated schedules. She didn’t mind all the meetings in the day, but invariably someone always ran late and oftentimes her written schedule was so vague that she wasn’t even certain of why exactly she was waiting in the middle of the empty library in the first place. Were she not on such a tight timeline through the day she doubted she’d care, but she had a dress fitting and she had to meet with Elsa to finalize the festival menu and she’d been running late in a meeting before this so she’d skipped lunch. Which was all to say that she was generally cranky and exhausted.

When Kristoff walked in looking almost as cranky and exhausted as she was, still tying his sash on, Anna let herself relax. On days like today where her schedule was tight and she needed to focus she tried not to think about how badly she missed him. She couldn’t help herself when her feet moved of their own accord toward him, her body acutely aware of how much she missed him despite her brain’s unwillingness to address it.

He’d just finished tying his sash when he seemed to notice her crashing into him. His arms wrapped around her by what seemed to be initially a reflex, and then he squeezed her close.

“Anna!”

There was a smile in his voice that she couldn’t see with her face in his shirt front. She all but melted into his touch, and even though they were blocking the entryway to the room, they stayed that way for a good long time.

“I didn’t think I was going to see you until tonight,” she said, “You weren’t on my schedule for the day. Did you come in for a book or…?”

“Dance lessons,” Kai said from behind her, “How serendipitous that you should be here as well.”

Anna could hear the conspiratorial tone in the man’s voice and with sudden certainty Anna knew why there was a lack of details on her schedule. This surprise had been orchestrated for them, and while it wasn’t necessarily a break, it was at least the least frustrating meeting either of them had on the docket for their day.

“Oh,” Anna said, trying to stay positive as her thoughts drifted to the last time she’d danced and who it had been with. Suddenly she wished very much to be out of the library.

“Just usual festival fare,” Kai said as if it were the simplest thing in the world, “Nothing too difficult.”

Anna felt her face go hot, knowing that she was meant to help Kristoff learn, but she herself had never learned any festival dances. Her dance education had been primarily focused on courtly dances. Waltzes and ballroom and other dances that would be expected of her as a princess. The lack of festivals since the gates had closed had never really afforded her an opportunity to learn.

“I don’t know any,” she admitted, letting herself slip out from Kristoff’s arms slowly as she turned to Kai.

Kristoff didn’t let her go completely and she was grateful for it. His hand rested sure against her midback, and she let herself lean into his touch for comfort.

“I do.”

Kristoff’s voice was low, but warm like his touch and it sent a flutter of excitement through her. She was more than happy to let him show her a thing or two.

***

Kristoff hadn’t noticed the fiddle on the wall of the library until Kai took it down and began to play.

He plays as well as he plans. A man of many talents.

Not that he was truly paying all that much attention to the quality of the music that the man was playing because he could only really focus on Anna.

She was spinning toward and away from him, picking up the dance with great speed. Most of the festival dances he’d danced were at small celebrations and in taverns. He had never been much of a people person, but the camaraderie of the harvesters had gotten the better of him a few times. Enough, evidently, to justify his teaching Anna how to dance.

Her hair had come somewhat undone as they danced, little wavy tendrils of it bounced and flowed as they moved. It was only the fact that he was supposed to be focused on the dance that kept him from twisting his fingers in the loose strands. It would be so easy to do so and then lean in to kiss her. He didn’t even mind that Kai was there.

She was beautiful when she danced.

She’s always beautiful.

He was lucky that his full focus didn’t need to be on the steps or his infatuation with her looks would have tripped them both. Most of the festival dances he was aware of were loosely structured, not like the dances Anna was used to, but he was able to lead without trouble and she caught on just fine.

He lead her under their arms, his lower than he would normally think to hold them to make up for their difference in stature. She wasn’t a short woman, but the difference in size between them was something he was coming to notice more acutely with each night they spent together.

She was light on her feet and despite a few clumsy moments of her crashing into him, which they’d both laughed over, she was a very good dancer. He was doing his best to be the same, which was something he’d never really cared about before.

“I’m going to stomp on your toes if we have to do this part after a twirl,” Anna announced, “I can’t believe how dizzy I am.”

He couldn’t help but to laugh as he pulled her back into his arms and held her tight. It wasn’t really part of the dance, but it could be given that it was more a loose mixture of different steps than it was a set series of movements. No one could tell him that holding his wife wasn’t an acceptable variation of the dance.

“You can step on my toes anytime.”

She leaned into him and Kai stopped playing. They’d been at it for what felt like hours, but regardless of how long or short they’d been dancing Kristoff knew that Anna was ready to stop, at least for now. He did get the distinct sense however that Anna wouldn’t want to stop dancing with him when the festival day came along.

“You say that now, but when I horribly disfigure your toes, you’ll ask for a divorce.”

He wasn’t sure when they’d gotten to the point where the concept of ending their marriage was comically unlikely enough to be a joke, but he was both taken aback and pleased by the development. He ducked his head down to press a kiss to the top of her head the best he could at their awkward angle. She turned red but pressed up into his kiss on tiptoes.

“I don’t think you could mangle my toes if you tried. You’re very light. If you could though I’d of course make you suffer having a husband with ugly feet before I’d let you go. Broken toes are a small price to pay to be with you.”

She laughed, and he could feel her squeeze him tight in return. He wondered if she could feel the way his heart raced.

It was only when Kai cleared his throat that he remembered that they weren’t alone. When he was with Anna it was easy to forget the world around him. He wondered if anyone else would have ever been able to steal his attention in the way she did, but he sincerely doubted it each time the thought crossed his mind.

***

Anna pushed the small tea cart into his bedroom herself, having sent away all the remaining lady’s maids and staff for the evening after her bath. Her hair was still wet down her back and she’d eventually have to braid it herself.

“Tea?”

Kristoff smiled softly at her from across the room. They hadn’t been able to manage to eat dinner together, but as they’d parted after their dance lesson, they’d agreed to try to spend the evening talking about the festival given it was only two days away. It wasn’t as if they hadn’t discussed it yet, but it had more to do with the fact that they hadn’t discussed it at any length. Each evening they tried, one or both fell asleep halfway through any conversation.

“If you’re having some.”

She thought that she might, someday soon, know exactly how he liked his tea. She wondered if that might be a metric of love that she could quantify, a milestone she could hit to prove to the rest of the world that they were in fact in love. She didn’t need to prove it to herself anymore, even though they hadn’t said it yet.

The words will come in time.

“Then how do you take it?”

He shrugged and Anna couldn’t help but crack a smile. It was very much like him to simply take it however it was served. He complained very little about anything that was given to, or foisted upon, him. She supposed that it was just his nature to be happy with anything, or at least to not complain. She hoped that someday soon she’d get to hear his opinions a bit more freely, that he’d come to understand that he didn’t just need to take what she’d give him.

She felt her cheeks heat at the thought, the way that the words could imply something else. That she wanted him to take from her. In a way she did. She wanted him to push against her boundaries, to help her see how much she was ready to offer him when he wanted more from her.

He gave her a quizzical look, his brow lifting in a questioning expression she wasn’t ready to meet. She turned her attention quickly to the tea and in her haste, splashed a bit of the still hot tea onto her hand.

“Shit!”

Kristoff was to her before she could even grab the towel on the cart to dry her hand.

“Are you okay? Did you burn yourself? Should I get some ice… or your sister?”

“No, I’m fine, I just splashed myself with the pot. It wasn’t boiling or anything.”

His hand was around her wrist loosely, and she let him inspect her palm to his satisfaction. No burns as far as she could tell and evidently, he didn’t see anything she didn’t feel because he gently released her hand without any argument and went about pouring the tea himself.

“Sorry,” Anna managed after a moment, her breath having been caught in her lungs and her heart having been racing in her ears as he inspected her hand.

There was a part of her that was still adjusting to the level of care and scrutiny he paid her when she was hurt or upset. She’d been cared for by house staff her whole life, wanting for nothing, but she’d been lonely, and she hadn’t truly known what she lacked emotionally until she and Kristoff had come to know each other.

“The only thing you have to be sorry for is that sailor’s tongue. Who taught you to swear Princess?”

She stared at him, watching him pouring her tea, and was caught between confusion and joy as she realized that he was adding spoonfuls upon spoonfuls of sugar to her tea, and that he was teasing her.

“I… I honestly don’t know… I think I might only know a few curses to be honest.”

“I could teach you more,” he teased.

She was flushing again, and it wasn’t from embarrassment about swearing or her lack of knowledge about curse words. It was from his closeness, the way his dark eyes shifted from the tea to her face, unabashedly staring into her eyes as he passed her the cup, cooled with cream.

Just like I like it.

***

Kristoff couldn’t help but sigh when his eyes wandered across Anna’s sleeping face. A small metal band in his pocket was all but burning his thigh, at least in his imagination.

He’d intended on asking her tonight. He wouldn’t have a chance until the festival, their festival, and he couldn’t help but to want this to just be between them. Everything about their marriage so far had been at least, in part, spectacle. He wanted a moment just for them, away from prying eyes, and he’d lost his nerve and lost his chance after she’d burnt her fingers on the tea she’d brought for them.

It was foolish, he supposed, to be so anxious about asking his wife to marry him again that he lost all courage and spent the night twirling a ring that was meant to be hers through his own fingers.

Doubt crept into his mind in these dark hours of night, watching her sleep and wondering why it was that she hadn’t asked what became of the crystal that marked them soulmates. Perhaps, he thought, she simply didn’t want to pry. The small voice that often brought him doubts, however, hissed in his ear that she didn’t believe in the magic between them. It told him that she didn’t care that they were fated, that she only counted him a friend and that their marriage, sweet and seemingly evolving as it was, was just as it had originally been, for convenience.

He reached the hand not toying with the ring out towards her, brushing a lock of curling red hair away from her cheek. She looked peaceful, and again he could not find it in himself to wake her. She needed her rest, and he needed, desperately, to not think about all the ways in which she and a small trinket of jewelry could crush a heart he hadn’t ministered to in years.

She could break me.

He thought it as he let his knuckles rub against her cheek gently.

What a way to go.

He hoped that she would not mind the kiss he pressed, gentle and slow to her forehead before blowing out the last candle brightening the room.

She made a soft sound in her sleep, something that to his eager ears, sounded almost like his name.

The voice of despair left his ears as the laid at her side, knowing that no matter when he asked her again, to marry her, it was inevitable.

For me, it was always going to be Anna. And it will always be Anna, whether or not she accepts my gift.

#kristanna #frozen fanfiction #A Convenient Arrangement #Arranged Marriage AU #No proofreading we die like people that were supposed to be asleep an hour and a half ago and need to be at work at 9am #Thanks for yelling at me to do the thing friends #You know who you are

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astershere · 1 year

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A deal with god

I have returned with the offering of brotherly angst featuring Diluc and Kaeya (I'm writing, a shocker, I know, writer's block is kicking my ass so hard)

So have this angst piece with a happy(?) ending that I bullshitted out in 3 hours, too scared to stop so the inspiration doesn't die.

This hasn't even been properly proofread so mistakes may have slipped in, it's 3am and I'm getting tired

CW: Talks about death, a mention of potentially killing someone (No killing actually happens)

Spoilers for Diluc and Kaeya's character stories

Summary: Kaeya goes to Mondstadt's archon with a rather unusual request and Diluc is not amused

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As the citizens of Mondstadt slept peacefully in their homes, a lone hooded figure could be seen exiting the city. The figure slowly made its way to Windrise, dropping to its knees in front of the large tree and beginning to pray quietly. After finishing its prayer, the figure lifted its head, pulling the hood off of his face. He pulled out some offerings, setting them down at the foot of the Statue of the Seven before returning his prayers for the god of Anemo to appear.

Hours passed with no sign of the Archon, and the man began to grow desperate. Just as he was about to give up and head home, the wind picked up, forming a barrier around him and the tree. The man lifted his head to look at the tree in front of him, eyes filling with hope for the first time in years. Soon, a winged figure holding a lyre appeared in front of the man.

��Kaeya Alberich. What for, do you seek your Archon so desperately?”

Kaeya lowered his body in a bow, carefully thinking back to how he’s heard people address the Archons in the past ”O’ mighty god of Anemo, Barbatos, I endlessly thank you for gracing a mere Khaenri’ahn heathen like myself with your presence”

Barbatos nodded, gracefully motioning for Kaeya to stand up. ”Please, raise your head and share your woes, then let the wind carry them wherever it goes”

Kaeya warily stood up before Barbatos spoke up again.

”What do you seek, dear child?”

Kaeya’s face fell serious. He could feel the tiniest tug of hesitation in his heart. Is he really ready to let it all go? Perhaps if someone had stopped to talk to him on the way here, he’d have changed his mind, gone back home and moved on with his life... The hesitation subsided just as fast as it appeared and he looked up at the god in front of him

”I wish to make a deal”

The Archon sighed and closed his eyes ”Very well…”

There was a knock on Diluc’s door.

”Rise and shine, son! We have a long day ahead of us!”

Diluc heard his father’s hearty laugh outside the room and stretched.

”Coming!”

The redhead got out of bed and walked over to his wardrobe to get changed.

”I have work today so I should change straight into my… uniform…?”

Diluc shook his head.

”I must still be half-asleep, getting confused by my work uniform” he chuckled to himself, but couldn’t quite shake the uneasy feeling growing on the back of his head. The young knight shrugged, blaming it on still being groggy and headed down for breakfast.

The breakfast was unusually quiet. Both father and son were just silently eating until Crepus called out to his son.

”Hey Diluc?”

The young man was snapped out of his thoughts by the voice.

”Yes, father?”

”Is everything alright? You’re being uncharacteristically quiet”

Diluc looked surprised ”Oh, everything’s fine, I just have this odd feeling…” He trailed off before shrugging, brushing it off with a small smile ”I’m probably just tired”

Crepus smiled and nodded ”That’s good, as long as you’re okay”

Diluc’s uneasiness kept growing as the day progressed, reaching the point where he could no longer concentrate on his work. He was sitting in his office with his head in his hands, trying to figure out why he was so out of sorts today. He felt like his memories were wrong, like his father wasn’t supposed to be here, like he wasn’t supposed to be a knight.

The man was brought back out of his head by a knock on the door. He shook his head, tidying his clothes and straightening his back before calling out.

”Come in”

A worried Jean entered the room.

”Hello, Jean. What brings you here?”

The woman sighed before sitting down opposite of Diluc

”I just wanted to check in with you, you haven’t really been yourself today”

The blonde paused for a moment before carefully continuing

”...Are you missing sir Kaeya again?”

Diluc felt a stabbing pain in his head and winced. His thoughts were getting even more mixed up, a memory flashing in his mind.

Diluc was standing in pouring rain in front of the winery, glaring daggers at a crying Kaeya. He couldn’t tell why, but he was overwhelmed by pure wrath and betrayal coursing through him as he pulled out his weapon, ready to attack.

”Diluc!”

He was brought back to reality by Jean’s worried voice. Her hands were holding on to his arms, as if holding him stable.

”What happened? Are you okay?”

Diluc looked at her for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

”Where’s Kaeya?”

Jean stared at the man dumbfounded before her expression morphed into one of compassion and worry.

”Diluc… He died years ago, remember?”

Diluc felt his heart break at her words. That wasn’t right, Kaeya was alive and well, he didn’t- Realization struck him like lightning from clear skies. All these memories were wrong. It was his father who died, not Kaeya.

Diluc turned to Jean.

”Could I have the rest of the day off? I… have to take care of some business”

Jean looked at him with a worried expression and smiled softly.

”Of course”

Diluc was sprinting through the streets at full speed and busted into the Angel’s Share.

”Woah, Master Diluc, where’s the fire?” Charles chuckled from behind the bar.

Diluc completely ignored the bartender’s question and asked his own

”Where’s the bard?”

Charles pointed up and Diluc ran to the second floor, scanning the room with his eyes. As he spotted the familiar bard dressed in green, he made a beeline to his table.

Venti looked up as he noticed someone sit across him, swirling the fruit juice in his glass.

”Ah, master Diluc. What brings you to me?”

”What did you do?”

Venti fell serious at the question, looking down at his glass.

”So you’ve noticed... I have to say, you caught on much faster than expected”

”Just tell me what you did!”

The bard sighed heavily and looked up at Diluc again.

”Last night, Kaeya came to Windrise, praying for hours on end for Barbatos to appear. I eventually did, and he asked me to make a deal with him”

Diluc’s breath hitched in his throat.

”Wh- what kind of deal?”

”He wanted to switch places with master Crepus”

Tears welled up in the redhead’s eyes.

”You mean he..?”

”Yes. He asked me to alter history so that he was the one to die instead of your father on that day”

Diluc felt his heart shatter at those words, desperation filling him.

”But why? Why would he do that?”

Venti looked at Diluc empathetically.

”I take it you don’t remember much about the real past?”

Diluc shook his head.

”Please tell me…” his voice cracked as he choked down a sob. He just couldn’t understand why Kaeya would do that. Sure, he loved his father but that didn’t mean he’d rather have a dead brother.

Venti nodded solemnly.

”As you wish… As you already know, in the real past master Crepus was the one to die on your 18th birthday… That very same night Kaeya came clean, telling you he was from Khaenri’ah, and that he was sent to Mondstadt as a child to serve their interests''

Diluc’s face turned into shock as he realized what happened in the memory. He covered his mouth with one hand and closed his eyes as he began sobbing harder, realizing what he had done.

Venti smiled sadly and placed a hand on Diluc’s shoulder.

”I see you know what happened that night… You attacked him…”

Venti pulled a dull gray Vision from his pocket and placed it on the table.

”This is the only reason he survived… He received a Cryo Vision during that fight. If he hadn’t, you would’ve overpowered and likely killed him…”

”The two of you were never the same again. You treated each other coldly and never got along. You held onto that feeling of betrayal, not listening to his attempts to explain. Kaeya raised his guards, never letting anyone in again and fired back at you with just as bad an attitude… Despite all this, he still loved you dearly. All he wanted was his brother back”

Venti paused as Diluc broke down into sobs again, patting his shoulder and waiting for him to calm down.

”Just tell me when you’re ready if you want to hear more”

Diluc weakly nodded for Venti to continue, his shoulders shaking.

”You grew more and more distant, until yesterday Kaeya decided to ’fix everything’ as he phrased it”

Diluc looked at Venti with bloodshot eyes.

”You can fix it, right?”

His voice cracked as he sobbed.

”Please tell me you can fix it…”

The bard let out another sigh.

Diluc practically leaped out of bed the next morning, looking at the two Visions resting on his nightstand. His own Pyro one was glowing bright red as usual, and next to it was a Cryo one, glowing and cool to the touch as it should be. Tears welled up in his eyes as he grabbed the Visions and rushed to his brother’s old room.

Kaeya woke up to Diluc rushing into the room and tackling him in a hug.

”Woah, hey, what’s all this about?” The blue haired man chuckled, trying to figure out what happened. He wasn’t supposed to be here, he was supposed to be dead.

”You idiot!” Diluc shook Kaeya’s shoulders.

”Why would you do that?!”

Kaeya looked at him, confusion evident on his face.

”What do you mean why? To give you the life you want and deserve, obviously!”

”The life I want? Do you really think I want you dead?”

”Do you really think I don’t? You tried to kill me!”

Tears began streaming down Diluc’s face again.

”I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking straight, but… I never hated you… I just didn’t know how to approach the subject anymore after the fight”

Diluc pulled Kaeya into a tight hug.

”Never do something like that again, okay?”

Kaeya smiled softly and hugged Diluc back, now crying himself.

”I promise”

Diluc pulled away from the hug to look at Kaeya, smiling.

”Welcome home, brother”

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #kaeya alberich #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya angst #diluc angst #asters angst

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occasionalsnippets · 3 years

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Escapism AU (Y/n) & Passione

This is mostly about mc’s interactions with the gang including a bit of La Squadra and Unita Speciale. I’ll probably add more as I think.

Bucciarati’s Gang

Mc crashes at their house from time to time even though she has her own apartment

This either because she wants to sleep over for fun

Or because she’s finished a mission and their house is closer

Sometimes she shows up at 2 AM and just passes out on their couch

It happens more often than it should

Bruno eventually gives her a copy of the key

She steals food from the fridge too but makes up for it by buying groceries

They leave a toothbrush and cup for her in one of the bathrooms since she comes over so much

Before everyone was recuited, there were extra bedrooms in the house that weren’t being used

They left a guest room for mc but she doesn’t use it all the time, opting to pass out on the couch first

Either Bruno or Abbacchio usually brings her to her room though Abbacchio would never admit to it

Mista draws on her face with marker sometimes but leaves her on the couch most of the time. He can’t ruin her cute face all the time

Narancia cuddles with her on the couch or join Mista in doodling

Fugo leaves her on the couch but gets a blanket and readjusts her position if it’s uncomfortable

However, after Mista got recruited, mc gave up her room so Mista didn’t have to room with anyone

Now, she just sleeps on the couch or whoever’s okay with her borrowing their bed

She has tried several times to get them to wear normal clothes outside (they dressed perfectly normally before joining the mafia!) and only about half those times did it actually work

Mc is strong enough carry everyone in the group bridal style

The only ones who gets particularly mouthy when she does is Abbacchio and Mista but only because Mista wants to carry her too

She joins Fugo, Narancia and Mista in doing stupid things but it’s fun

She knows the torture dance

Mc isn’t technically a part of their team but they consider her to be because of how often she stays over and tags along for missions

She doesn’t expect anyone to really like her the way they do despite how obvious their feelings are

Part of it is because she isn’t supposed to be in this universe in the first place, that she’s an outsider of sorts. She’s here to make sure they don’t die

The other part of it is the guilt of leaving them to die in the first timeline. She feels like she doesn’t deserve how highly they think of her because of how readily she was to let fate run it’s course the first time around, even if they don’t remember it

She’s sooner die then let any of them do the same

Giorno

Mc meets Giorno before he’s recruited into the gang since she does go to the same school as him even though she doesn’t really show up to classes that often

She’s about 2 years older than Giorno

They became friends prior to his hair turning blond and she almost didn’t recognize him but his eyes are rather distinctive

When it did turn blond, mc got a vaguely panicked call in the morning from him saying his hair turned blond for some reason

She’s the first person to braid his hair with the needlessly extra loop at the end after it turned blond

She wasn’t sure how the donuts worked but the next time she saw him he had the signature donut hair so she guessed he figured out how to do it

It becomes routine for her to braid Giorno’s hair when she notices it’s undone

She gave him a crash course on stands when he found out she had one

They spend a lot of time in libraries

Mc insists on paying for food when they get lunch together though Giorno always refuses

I feel like Giorno lowkey craves intimacy?

Mc calls him “GioGio” sometimes

Trish

Hmmmmm, gay

I really like Trish hence why she’s included in the harem

Out of everyone in the gang guarding her, she’s the closest with mc since they’re both girls which is also why Bruno assigns mc to her the most often

Convenient for Trish since it means more time to flirt

Unfortunately, mc does fall under the “are we just being nice to each other or are we flirting” when Trish is just about ready to ask for her hand in marriage

She’s flirting, no doubt

Trish lets mc rest her head on her thighs which mc can confirm is very comfortable

Trish is one of the two people she trusts to do her make up, the other one being Abbacchio

You know that picture where there’s one girl sitting on the other girl doing her makeup

That’s basically Trish and mc

Post-Vento Aureo, they stay in contact and remain good friends as Trish pursues a career as a singer

Narancia

Mc joined Fugo on that walk where they found Narancia in the alleyway so she’s partially responsible for him joining the mafia

They bring him to Libecco where Bruno is and he gets food before going to the hospital to get his eye treated like in canon

She goes shopping with him after he’s out of the hospital

They get normal clothes but the next she sees him, he’s wearing his canon outfit and she wonders why she even bothered with his fashion sense in the first place

She’s the one who buys him his bandana that he wears in his canon outfit

They’re pretty cute together actually

She calls him “Nara”

While she isn’t available all the time to help Fugo tutor him, when she is around, she tries her best to help

They listen to music together and mc ends up reccomending a lot though some songs haven’t come out yet so she’s only able to play them on her phone

“If I run and jump at (Y/n), she’ll definately catch me!” “Wait, I’m holding a mug-” *Drops the mug and catches Narancia*

Hugs with Narancia often end with his face buried in the crook of her neck

Fugo

Probably the one mc goes with on missions the most

Part of it is because they’re the closest in age prior to everyone else joining, another part is due to mc’s nullifying ability effectively making her immune to Purple Haze’s virus

Mc be like “if I got infected with purple haze’s virus, I would simply become immune. rip to everyone else but I’m different.”

Still, Fugo is still very cautious when it comes to pulling out Purple Haze

Fugo buys her lavender hand lotion once and she decided she liked it so she continued to use it

He sorta associates lavender with mc

Mc buys him strawberry earrings. Sometimes she spontaneously buys stuff that reminds her of him

Fugo isn’t particularily fond of contact (backstory trauma) so mc tries to keep it to a minimum unless he gives an okay

Probably a few missions together where mc saves him, they’re walking down a street together and he just slips his hand into hers

Asadlskjh, I want them to hold hands

When she’s doing school assignments over at the Bucci house, Fugo helps her look over and proofread them despite the fact she has access to the internet through her phone and can search stuff literally from the future (not that he knows). She appreciates the input

I think that after Fugo leaves the group during Vento Aureo, I would like to bring him back somehow before the end of Vento Aureo

Abbacchio

He didn’t like mc at first, no surprises here, but after they went on a few missions together where she saved his life, he begrudgingly opened up

She reminds him of his dead partner due to how reckless she is in saving people

She an idiot but she’s his idiot

He’s likely one of the most worried when she gets hurt since he doesn’t want to lose another person who died protecting him

Abbacchio does come off as very tsundere seeing how prickly he is to everyone except Bruno but everyone except for mc notices that he isn’t that prickly to her either

Mc doesn’t expect him to like her to any degree so whenever anyone points out that he’s nicer to her, she’s like “what?”

They have late night talks a lot

Abbacchio stays up late drinking and mc doesn’t sleep consistently enough

Sometimes they go up to the roof of the house to talk

She has fallen alseep on him multiple times. His tiddies make great pillows.

Generally, she’s got her head resting on his tiddies, one arm hanging over his body, the other spawled out somewhere. He keeps one arm around her head and the other around her waist

Bruno

Mc with Bruno is oddly domestic?

she helps around the house, buying groceries, helping out in the kitchen and cleaning from time to time

Bruno appreciates it a lot

If Abbacchio and mc have late night talks, Bruno and her have early morning talks when everyone else is asleep and the sun is just barely rising

Bruno keeps telling her it isn’t healthy to sleep only 3 hours so he convinces her to fall asleep for a few more hours

He spoils her a lot and brings her to cafes

Bruno is one of the last people she would expect to like her more than a friend due to the “bruno’s a mom” memes and he’s nice to everyone (almost everyone, excluding ememies), there’s no way he would like her more

Sure, he kisses the crown of her head and the back of her hand from time to time and they cook together

But they’re just good friends, right?

He frequently lectures her on being more careful and not being so reckless

Mista

They discuss weird stuff a lot

The combination of mc’s general knowledge of random things due to the internet and Mista’s bad timing when bringing up topics leads to interesting conversations

Like, your tongue never sits comfortably in your mouth, your skeleton is wet, are you inside your skeleton or is your skeleton inside you?

Mc is always in a constant state of worry when he’s on a mission because his bullets always end up in his own body something

The only reason he isn’t dead yet is because his dumb*ss aura surrounds him

Mc qualifies as a cute girl 11/10

He flirts with her casually and the pistols tell her his thought even when he doesn’t want them to but she never seems to notice

“You’ve been flirting with me?” “Have been for the last year, thanks for noticing.”

Mc gets Mista a gun holster after the events of Vento Aureo because he really shouldn’t be tucking his gun in his pants like that

If someone was really angry, they could lean over and shoot his d*ck off

La Squadra

I sorta debated whether la squadra should be a part of the harem or not but I think mostly no

That’s because I don’t really have an age range for them but Risotto’s like 28 and big age gaps are creepy. So, I guess for some of the la squadra members, it’s up to interpretation whether it’s romantic or platonic. I’m inclined towards platonic though

I’m not sure if I want to save Sorbet and Gelato yet

Mc, of course, goes along for missions as she’s ordered to

La squadra is so broke. Why doesn’t Diavolo pay them more? They literally kill people for their job

Mc doesn’t crash at their house very often but she stops by to hang out and drop off food

She buys them groceries when she notices their fridge is super empty. She doesn’t need them to pay her back (her paycheck is suprisingly big), but they should stop eating takeout all the time

She usually calls Risotto to ask if there’s anything specific they want

She’s rather fond of Pesci. They go fishing together when they have time

Illuso and mc are gossip buddies

Melone gets kink shamed during missions

Ghiaccio and mc have gone ice skating together before

I don’t really have anything else for the others... I’ll think about it

When Vento Aureo begins, mc is trying to save them though she isn’t directly working with them

La Unita Speciale

These are pretty random

Tizano and Squalo are gay, mc was there when they proposed to each other

Mc gets ordered to buy food when they have meetings though it’s pretty rare

When she does show up to drop off food, it’s a constant feeling of “let me leave quicker please” because Cioccolata is freaky

She thinks she runs into Doppio way too often when she’s doing missions

The only good thing about it is that Doppio is pretty nice when Diavolo isn’t kicking about. On one hand, Doppio=nice, on the other Doppio=Diavolo

Mc feeds Secco sugar cubes when Cioccolata isn’t looking

She would not trust Cioccolata to patch up any of her wounds, he’s likely to dissect her

Mc gets missions through calls and emails but sometimes Doppio’s around to tell her what they are

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imaginesupply · 3 years

Text

Homecoming - Chapter Five

(Gif’s not my own.)

Summary: The day has arrived, Captain Syverson is going home. For good, this time. He is going home to a civilian life he can hardly remember and a wife he barely knows, with memories of the war still fresh on his mind. Love might not be able to heal everything on its own, but it’s a good start.

Genres: Romance, drama.

Story warnings: Smut (always fully consensual), mentions of PTSD and nightmares and mental health, angst, hurt and comfort, fluff, mentions of war (minor), mentions of cheating (minor), mentions of pregnancy (very minor), police appearance (very minor), violence (very minor).

Notes:

It’s my first time writing for one of Henry’s characters and I’m unsure I did Sy’s character any justice.

This is a Capt. Syverson x OFC (Ada) story, written in 3rd person POV but OFC’s physical description is very limited so it could also be read as Capt. Syverson x Reader, I think.

English is not my first language, so there might be some mistakes. Proofread, but not beta’ed. We die like men and all that.

Timeline is a little wacky: The movie takes place in 2003 and the U.S. forces were withdrawn from Iraq in 2011, but I never set a precise date because I don’t think it’s essential for this story. However, some elements might not be realistic because if we set this story in 2003: Phone cameras quality was not as good as it’s now, but for the purpose of the chapters, I will need you to imagine you could film great videos with your flip phone haha. Plus, it says Sy is coming back after being deployed for more than three years which makes no sense unless we set this in 2006 or later. I am asking you disregard any time inconsistencies.

Also: I am not American. I only lived in the US for six months and it was in the Midwest, not Texas so please bear with me if I write something stupid.

Finally: This will be a Christmas fic and I intend to post the last chapter (there will be seven in total) on or before Christmas. However, religion is never mentioned in this story and the Christmas-sy elements of this story are limited to family gathering, gift giving and tree decorating.

Chapter Five starts after the cut. (Chapter Four can be found here.) Let me know if you wish to be tagged in future chapters or if you wish to be removed from the tag list.

A/N: I am aware of the neutral, perhaps positive, portrait of the police I painted in this chapter. I am fully conscious of the recent (and not so recent) instances of police brutality happening all around the world, many – if not most – of them motivated by racism and other despicable ideologies. With this chapter, I did NOT mean to express support for the police forces. I simply had this ‘plot’ idea come to my mind and decided to write it. There is no ulterior motive.

While all my personal experiences with the police have been positive, I am aware that my ethnicity gives me privilege and that many people are not as lucky as I am. This both angers and saddens me. It has to change.

Black lives matter. Minority lives matter.

Chapter 5

Chapter warnings: Cockwarming, irresponsible driving (kind of), car accident (not serious), police (but no police violence), very mild violence, language (perhaps a little bit worse than in previous chapters but nothing you don’t hear in real life, I guess), mentions of mysogyny.

Ada yawned with Sy quickly following suit. “You can drive my car if you want, Sy. It’s not that new anymore, you know.” She offered, gracing him with the most angelic smile she could muster. It was the first time she was granting him the opportunity to drive her car.

Sy laughed next to her, his left hand moving over the center console to rub her thigh. He had that stupid grin again, that looking endearing with his current droopy eyes. “It’s your car, darlin’. Besides, you’d kill me if I ever so much as got a scratch on it.” He chuckled, suppressing another yawn. “And I know you’re only offering because you want to sleep.”

His wife gasped, a look of mocking offense on her features. “They’re your nephews!”

“But you were the one who said yes,” Sy countered, his eyes closing again as he made himself more comfortable on the car seat. The drive home was only about one hour and a half, but it was the perfect length for a nap.

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, huh?” Ada laughed, gesticulating wildly as was her habit. “Yes, Joshua, I understand you’re taking my pregnant sister-in-law to the hospital. No, I will not look after your kids for the night. It’s our date night.”

Next to her, Sy grimaced. She did have a point, even if he had been looking forward to going bowling with her: Ada was a sore loser which always ended with lots of fun for him. At least, his sister and the baby were okay. Just a normal case of Braxton Hicks, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean. Perhaps it was good thing Ada didn’t want children because he’d freak out if she started having contractions four months in. “You fell asleep on Luke’s bed at one in the morning when you tried to get him to sleep for the third time and I had to spend the whole night entertaining them with tea parties because they wouldn’t tire!”

“Hey! That’s not cool!” She protested accusatorily, her eyes on the road as she switched lanes to take the next exit. “I didn’t know you couldn’t give kids sugar after a certain hour!”

Sy huffed, shaking his head. They’d had the great idea to bring donuts because according to his dear wife, sugar always made you feel better when you was anxious or down, and the kids had been aware something was off with their mom. “We suck at this parenting thing.”

“You don’t say!” Ada laughed, before loudly cursing at driver who’d just cut her off, something which never failed to make Sy smile. “The nap’s going to feel heavenly once we’re home.”

Sy hummed in agreement, his head falling back against the headrest as he drifted off, hiding his eyes from the sun with his cap. Ada glanced sideways at him, shaking her head. Part of her wanted to shake him awake. If she had to suffer, so did he. But he was right, she had slept more than him and he looked too peaceful to disturb, especially with some leftover glitter still on his cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a mild thump and the car stuttered before stopping, startling Ada who jumped on her seat.

"Shit!" She cursed. "Did I just...?" She began to panic, her eyes moving to the red car in front of them, too close. She had bumped it while she had been distracted by her husband’s stupid, sleepy face!

"Yes, yes you did," Sy laughed next to her. Ada was a good driver and she loved driving, but she was easily distracted and Sy never failed to tease her about it. This time, however, he could tell she was scared from the way her chest was heaving with her shallow breaths. "Want me to deal with it, darlin'?" He offered, tilting his head at the other driver who had just come out of the red, broken-down car.

"No!" Ada protested all too quickly, taking off her seatbelt and grabbing the necessary documents from the glovebox, accidentally hitting his knees in the process. "I am an independent woman who don't need no help," she muttered, trying to convince herself of her own statement. In the eight years since she’d had her gotten her licence, she had never given any of her cars a single scratch, let alone gotten into an accident.

Sy grinned at her antics but tried to hide his amusement, not wanting to make it worse. "All right. I'm here in case you need me, okay?" With a determined nod in his direction, Ada stepped out of the car and attempted to summon the Annalise Keating or the Olivia Pope inside her, whichever she could find in herself.

The man from the red car, who seemed to be in his early forties and balding, was already inspecting his vehicle for damage – looking mighty pissed as he did so. Ada approached the impact point from the other side, noticing the bump on the man’s old car. It didn't look too bad, she sighed with relief. Her own car barely had anything. Ha! She would have to use this as an argument next time Sy and her started discussing cars. Her black Citroën DS5 was sturdy and not just fancy looking, unlike what he said.

"Hello, sir," she said calmly, the man instantly looking up at her. Damn! He really looked furious, seething even. "I am so sorry for this. I was a little distracted- Anyway, it doesn't matter. My insurance will cover whatever repairs your car may require."

"You stupid little bitch!" The man shouted, out of the blue.

Ada gasped, backtracking. The muscles in her jaw twitched. What the fuck was wrong with him? "I understand your anger, but there's no-"

"What were you even doing behind that wheel?" He snarled, gesturing at her car, her baby. "Who the hell lets women like you drive cars like that?!” The man cursed, aggressively waving his hand in the air.

She just stood there, still in shock. Did... did he just bring misogyny into a fender bender situation?! "Women like me?!" She repeated, quite stunned.

"Aye! Bitches like you have no business driving-”

Ada flinched at the man’s words. He was starting to breech the distance between them, moving too close to her. Ada jumped again when she felt a warm hand on her shoulder before realizing it belonged to Sy and letting herself exhale slowly. Thank God he didn’t listen to her and stayed in the car!

"I get that you’re pissed, but that's no way to talk to a lady. You should to apologize," Sy told the man, making it sound very much like an order and very little like a suggestion. The driver huffed before coming closer, his face about as red as the car as when he started laughing. Ada instinctively hid under Sy's arm, though she aware of the ridicule of the whole situation.

"That's your whore? You let your whore drive your car?!"

Okay, this was going too far. It left her lips before she could help it, "that's my own goddamn car, you wanker!". Maybe it was time to stop borrowing insults from Tom.

Ada could almost hear how his jaw clenched when she felt Sy's whole body tense up against hers. "Call her a whore one more time and you're gonna wish she had run you over instead."

This was escalating. Ada bit her lower lip. She was going to have to be the bigger person here. "Look, I'll just go grab my phone from the car and call the police. They'll deal with this." Ada announced, dislodging herself from Sy’s grip before turning around to get to her car.

Her hand had just wrapped around the car door handle when there was a clouting noise, quickly followed by a loud thump, this time. Ada immediately turned around at the sound. The angry driver was out cold on the ground, blood rushing out of his nose and forehead, with Sy looking down at him, the same blood tainting his fist.

"Oh shit!"

°°°

A lanky guy, smelling heavily of pot, was thrown inside the almost full holding cell by the same officer who had arrested him. Sy was amused at the sight until the guy, after a full survey of the room, started walking him up to him before sitting down on the bench far too close for his liking.

Exhaling through his nose, Sy tried ignoring the smell and closed his eyes again. He didn’t expect the nap he had been looking forward to, to be in a stinky cell with stinky men but it would have to make do. At least, after the man sitting closest to the entrance had commented on the leftover pink glitter that still shone in Sy’s beard, nobody had bothered him anymore – not after he quite literally made the man piss himself with just one stare. That man wouldn’t have survived a single day in Baqubah.

"It's cramped in here," the new guy commented nonchalantly though his eyes were fixed on Sy. Out of politeness - damn Ada and her insistence on good manners! - Sy acknowledged his useless statement with a noncommittal hum.

"Name's Ben, by the way," he said, stretching out of his hand but Sy didn’t move a muscle. What was it in his current posture - crossed arms and spread legs - that made him appear friendly enough for a chat, he wondered, rolling his eyes behind his closed eyelids.

"And you are...?"

Sy groaned out loud time. "Not interested."

Ben didn’t get the hint and proceeded to ramble off about how he got caught selling pot near the university. Sy was actively working on drowning out his voice when the sound of fast and angry clicking heels on the concrete floor caught his attention. He smiled. Ada. Apparently, she hadn’t changed and was still dressed for date night, wearing a dress and stilettos, even though they had only meant to go bowling and eat at a steakhouse.

Somehow, everyone in the holding cell must have been intrigued by the same sound because all conversation suddenly stopped, the men all hoping to eavesdrop.

"I am here for Syverson. I wish to talk to him."

"Ma'am, I apologize but we are not allowed to let him out of his cell."

"Not a problem. Just give me the keys and I'll let him out myself!"

Every person in the holding cell laugh with Sy grinning quietly, amused at how she sounded distinctively more foreign when she was mad. He was used to her accent in more intimate settings, but he was enjoying the sound of it during her current outburst which was followed by an uninterrupted string of curse words and insults alike, all coming from her delicate mouth. First, in English, then French. Spanish. Portuguese. Italian. Sy frowned at the last one, he didn’t recognize it. Was it German? He'd have to ask her.

"What a woman, huh," the guy next to him deadpanned, still not giving up on a conversation.

Silence fell again as everyone attempted to listen to the rest. “I swear to God I’ll hang your heads up in my living room if –“

Sy only huffed, leaning back against the cold wall. "You can't even begin to imagine."

"You know her?" The pothead quipped up.

"Yeah," Sy replied. "She’s my wife." He said it loud enough to make sure everyone was able to hear it.

“Oh,” came the nasal voice next to him just as they heard heavy, resigned footsteps become louder.

A different policeman stopped just behind the door, a colleague just behind him as he fished out the right key from his pocket. “Syverson,” he called out loudly. “There’s a woman here for you.”

Sy got up at once, unable to hide his smug smirk. Ada always got her way.

°°°

“What the fuck were you thinking, Sy?!” His wife blurted out as soon as she was let inside the interview room, the young officer locking the door from the outside. Then, turning around, she caught sight of her husband handcuffed to the table and her shoulders instantly slacked, her anger vanishing almost instantly. “What you did was disproportionate,” she sighed, her voice calmer as she took a seat in front of him, the cold iron table separating them.

"He called you a whore, I just punched him!" Sy protested, leaning back on the chair. "My response was disproportionate - disproportionately small."

"You knocked him out cold!" Ada reminded him, her voice pitching higher than usual but the only response she got from Sy was a smug grin. "He might press charges, you know. It's battery."

Sy rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. "He’s an asshole."

Now, it was her turn to roll her eyes although she knew he hated it when she did that. She took a deep breath, hoping to calm down. Sy was looking entirely unbothered, but she was freaking out at the situation. "I'll try to convince him not to press charges and offer to cover the medical bill on top of the car repairs in return."

"Medical bill?" Sy asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Yes. After the police took you into custody, he was brought to the hospital. From what I heard, he has a broken nose, needed stitches on his forehead and got a concussion." Sy only huffed with a smirk. "This is not funny, Syverson!"

"It wasn't funny when he called you a whore either," Sy countered. He was right. It was also very pleasant to see that dickhead in pain, but she wouldn’t tell him that.

"Look, my friend, Gale, who's a lawyer, is on her way. I'll get you out of here tonight. He’ll either agree to drop the charges or I’ll bail you out."

The corners of his lips twitched. He moved his hands as much as the chain allowed, to grab hers and squeeze them in his large ones. "Are you worried about me, darlin'?"

What a teasing little shit he could be! Of course, she was worried about him! He was in a cell! Feigning innocence, Ada smiled, running her thumbs over the back of his hands. "I am not. However, seeing what you did to that prick just got me really horny and I would like to have you back in my bed tonight," she whispered, watching as her husband’s smug grin slowly disappeared as she got up and grabbed her purse, heading to the door.

"You better get me out of here quickly!" Sy called after her.

°°°

He was returned to the holding cell, the officer uncuffing his wrists again once the bars closed behind him. There were two new faces, but he also recognized that at least three men had left already. Unfortunately, pothead was still there.

“I saved you your spot,” Ben smiled wildly, gesturing at the vacant portion of the bench next to him. “The guy in the red shirt was going to sit here but I told him it was occupied.”

Sy merely hummed, taking the seat that had so generously been saved for him. Hopefully Ada would get him out quickly because he didn’t know how much longer he could deal with his chatty neighbour.

“Was she mad?” Ben asked, whispering loudly and defeating the entire purpose of a whisper in the first place. “Did she yell at you?”

Despite his closed eyes, Sy could feel Ben’s stare on him as he awaited an answer. “No.”

Ben nodded thoughtfully, shaking the uneven bench as he did so. “If we go to prison, I want to share a cell with you.”

If Ada didn’t get him out of there quickly, he was soon going to get charged for battery again.

°°°

Sy stood by the counter, his attention on the ugly Christmas decorations he hadn’t noticed when they brought him in hours earlier. Somehow, he had managed to forget all about it. And fuck, he still needed to get Ada a present!

“Here are your things,” the young officer told him as he slid over a transparent plastic bag.

With a curt nod, Sy ripped it open and fetched his wedding band first, before looking for his wallet and belt. He was already heading to the door when he turned around at the last minute. “Did Mrs. Syverson post my bail?”

“No, the charges were dropped.”

Huffing with amusement and a hint of pride, Sy zipped up his coat and headed to the front door. He swiftly descended the stairs in front of the precinct, his face illuminating at the sight of her. She was still wearing the black dress and the fancy shoes, her makeup now lightly smudged around her eyes.

As soon as he was close enough, his hands moved to Ada's waist and he leaned down to kiss her, only for her to pull away at his touch. "Not so fast, big guy," she teased, a glint in her eyes as she grabbed something out of her coat pocket he couldn't yet identify. "You're still in trouble."

Sy threw back his head, his laugh booming through the night sky as he finally saw what she was holding up in front of him. Handcuffs, and not the fluffy ones either.

"Now gimme your hands," Ada demanded, making him cock his brow at her authoritative tone.

With a chuckle he obeyed, presenting her his hands. "Yes, ma'am."

Sy watched keenly as she fumbled with the cuffs to get them around his wrists, and then seized the right opportunity to take the upper hand, easily taking the cuffs away from her small hands.

With a shriek, Ada found herself bent over the black hood of her own car, her cheek pressed up against the slick surface and her husband's body pressed up against hers. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke. "Mrs. Syverson, you're under arrest for unlawful teasing back in the questioning room." Ada scoffed, the sound weakened by his heavy weight on top of her. "You have the right to remain silent. Everything you do say can and will be held against you in-"

"Your dick!" Ada suddenly blurted out, a little too loud given where they were, and Sy immediately stopped, clearly surprised, but she quickly felt him laugh against her back.

Before she could join him, Sy smacked her ass, effectively silencing her. "Guess I'll have to fuck that attitude out of you," he grunted before pulling away and fastening the cuffs around her wrists.

Ada kept complaining as he carefully dragged her inside the car. Despite her struggling, Sy easily opened the right backdoor and threw her on the backseat, mindful to fasten her seatbelt before closing the door. Her eyes widened and her mouth went agape when Sy sat down behind the steering wheel and proceeded to push back the driver’s seat and readjust all the mirrors.

“Are you shitting me?” She exclaimed, leaning forward on her seat as much as the belt would allow. He was messing up with all her settings and the grin on her face made it very clear that he was doing it all on purpose just to get her riled up.

“Language, darlin’,” he chided, turning on the engine. “Didn’t you ask me to drive earlier, anyway?”

Ada groaned in response, shutting her eyes tightly before opening them again. “You know very well that was-“

Sy didn’t let her finish, the tires squealing on the tar as he sped out of the parking lot all too fast. Ada involuntarily cringed at the noise. “I’ll make you pay for this!”

“We’ll see, kitten. We’ll see.” He was entertaining by her determination even though her eyes were already closing.

As expected, Ada fell asleep within five minutes despite the handcuffs keeping her arms in an uncomfortable position. Her head lolled before it finally came to rest against the window. He watched her though the central mirror, an adoring look in his blue eyes as she sighed contently the very moment she had fallen asleep. While he had managed to rest while in the cell, though not as much as he had hoped, he knew Ada had been up all afternoon trying to sort everything out and get him out. Sy had noticed her exhaustion as soon as she started fumbling with the handcuffs, her movements uncharacteristically clumsy.

He stopped at a junk food drive thru on their way home – night had already fallen and he hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast. He doubted she had either. Her eyes didn’t even flutter under the bright neon lights and once he parked the car on their driveway and went to carry her inside along with their food, after undoing the cuffs, her body was completely limp in his arms. It was only when he accidentally let her shoulder hit the doorframe as he tried to lead them inside their bedroom, that she woke up again. “Ouch!”

“Sorry,” Sy murmured and kissed her forehead before laying her down on the bed and setting down the bag on the mattress next to her. Her nose wrinkled as she sniffed the air even as he helped her out of her coat and dress, and then the shoes. “Did you get us food?”

“Tenders and fries.”

Within an instant, she had ripped the bag open and was clutching the bucket of chicken to her chest, moaning as soon as she took a bite. He smiled knowingly at her– she had been hungry after all.

Hurriedly, Sy took off his clothes and slid in bed behind his wife, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer to him. They hadn’t slept together the previous night as they babysat the kids and he had missed the feel of her soft body against his. A content hum escaped him as his already partially hard cock nestled against the roundness of her ass.

Ada chuckled at his reaction, the vibrations of her body sending sparks of pleasure to his growing erection. “I have an idea,” she whispered, her voice becoming seductive again as she started rubbing herself against him.

Sy groaned deeply and tightened his grip on her waist, forcing her to still even though he was no longer sure for what he now hungered more; food or his wife. “We’re both hungry and exhausted,” he reasoned with her, his fingers moving some hair away from her neck so that he could kiss her there.

“Let me,” she insisted, a grin audible in her voice. Her hands disappeared under the bedsheets and she slid off her panties before retaking her initial position as the little spoon. Behind her, Sy groaned as her delicate fingers took hold of his cock, giving it a few pumps before guiding him inside her warmth. He muffled a soft moan against neck at the snug feeling of tight her walls, his arm tightening around her again. She let out a quiet gasp at the stretch, it hurt a little despite her still being sufficiently wet from when he had pushed her against the hood of the car. But once he was fully inside, Ada sighed at the pleasure of being again. “Now we can eat.”

°°°

There are two more chapters to go! Next chapter will include Christmas tree decorating. I am running behind on schedule so I cannot guarantee the last chapter will be posted by Christmas but I’ll do my best.

°°°

@colourmeinblue @hail-horror-queen @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @kmuir1 @madbaddic7ed @coffeebreathy @purplelove75 @summersong69 @helenaellie

#henry cavill smut #syverson smut #henry cavill x ofc #syverson x ofc #henry cavill x reader #syverson x reader #syverson fluff #henry cavill fluff

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wish-that-i-was-buckys-girl · 3 years

Note

hey! could i possibly request a blaine one shot where the reader is another girl working on the ski patrol with blaine and they absolutely hate each other, but one day they get stuck in a snowstorm during work and end up lost for a few days? and during those few days they just get more and more lied up with each other until they just end up hate-fucking our in the open? it can end however, but i’ve been dying for some blaine action🥰🥰thank you💕

Thank you so much nonnie! I enjoyed writing this so much. I hope you enjoy it too!

Warnings: Fat Shaming, smut, slight bullying.

If there are any misspellings I’m sorry! I wrote this all on tumblr and didn’t get a time to proofread it in a different document.

Ice, Ice, Baby.

_______________________________________________

You walked to the cafe for hot chocolate at seven o’clock in the morning to prepare for your shift. It wasn’t easy being on ski patrol, that’s for sure.

Dads always tried hitting on you while you were trying to watch their wives kids struggle to learn the most basic of skiing. You just nodded in agreement and smiled a little to get through the conversations. Wouldn’t wanna get written up for being “rude” to a paying member of the resort. It wasn’t always so bad, some of the dads were kind of cute, and they always tipped well if you just did the bare minimum of looking good and reacting to their advances. You weren’t even supposed to get tipped, but that didn’t stop them. However, you didn’t enjoy watching their wives glare at you around dinner time. You could always feel their eyes burning into the back of your head.

Although you absolutely loathed the attention from the dad’s (besides the occasional tip), there was one reason why you absolutely dreaded going to work every day.

Blaine. You could say he was the Blaine of your existence. Shitty dad jokes always crept into your head due to how much time you end up spending with them.

You had tried being nice the first couple of weeks into the job, only to be met with incredible amounts of misogyny and downright assholeishness. God, you hated him. It was so unlike you to hate anyone, but the kid was ruthless.

He always made nasty remarks about the way you look, whether it was your facial features or your weight, he had it covered. Even though he always tried to get his friends to join in on the action, they never did. Everyone else liked you at the resort. Blaine was the only problem.

You made your way up to your snowmobile, tredging in the deep snow with your backpack and snow shoes on. You secured your hot chocolate and your backpack before riding it all the way up to your post. The post wasn’t too bad by itself. It was close to a nearby cabin in case of emergencies, stocked with food, with working water and electricity to last for up to a month. Even longer if it was less than 4 people.

You finally arrived at your post, hoping Blaine wouldn’t be there yet.

He was.

Fuck.

“You’re looking plump today y/n, more than usual. Must be from all the hot chocolate you’ve been drinking” he said laughing to Chaz. Chaz just rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. You could tell.

“Ha ha Blaine, you’re so original. It’s not like I’ve heard that one before yesterday. Or the day before that. Or the day before that.”

“Yeah, well I think saying it everyday is a good reminder. Maybe I’ll see you in the resort gym one day because of it.”

“Why? Is it cause ya wanna see my tits bounce in a sports bra? Get ya all hot and bothered?”

Blaine just gritted his teeth in response. You could tell he wanted to say something, but didn’t cause he didn’t want to give you the wrong idea. Or the right idea.

Blaine always had a pretty girl on his arm. You doubt he was attracted to you, but you say those things because it shuts him up every time.

You bundled up extra today. The news said there was a possibility of a snow storm, but it was highly unlikely. Still, the wind chill was extremely cold today, making you double up on the clothes underneath your snow suit. You wore a beanie, mittens, and a scarf too, just in case.

You and Chaz chatted for a while, Blaine giving you resentful side glances and a few eye rolls here and there to show his detest towards your interaction. God, what was his fucking problem?

At about noon, Chaz took his lunch, leaving you and Blaine alone for at least a half an hour.

Silence filled the mountains. Barely anyone was out on the slopes due to the potential storm coming, but that didn’t stop your job from making you go out anyways.

The silence was broken with a call from the walkie talkies. It was your manager, Janice.

“Get off the slopes, news just confirmed one of the worst snow storms to hit this side of the mountain in three years. I repeat ge-“

The walkie talkies went silent. The wind began to pick up, starling both you and Blaine. You acted quickly, knowing this could be a life or death situation. You both hopped on your snowmobiles to get to the cabin nearby. Unfortunately, Blaines wasn’t working. You quickly shouted “Get on!” Reluctantly, Blaine hopped on the back of your snowmobile. Thank god it was his snowmobile that wasn’t working. You’re not so sure Blaine would’ve rescued you if it was your snowmobile that died and not his.

You reached the cabin just in time, the snow finally picking up with the wind. You quickly grabbed the keys from your snowmobile and stuck them in the front door.

“Hurry! Jesus Christ we’ll die at this rate!”

“I’m trying asshole! Stop yelling at me!”

The door finally swung open. You and Blaine rushed inside, aggressively slamming the door behind you and locking it.

Both catching your breath while clutching onto your things, you made eye contact.

Of course you thought.

Of course I’m stuck with the one goddamn person who hates me in the middle of one of the biggest snowstorms of the decade.

Blaine didn’t hold back what he was thinking.

“Great, I’m stuck with Fat Albert with minimal supplies. We’ll be out of food by tomorrow.”

You scowled at him snd stood up.

“THAT’S IT. First of all, I’m not fat. Second off, even if I was, that is none of your goddamn business to make comments on it. I have fat on my body. Just because I’m not the twink of the century like you doesn’t mean I should be degraded for it. We are stuck here for god only knows how long. If you just shut up I’m sure we can make it through this. But you’ve got to stop being such a fucking asshole to me all the time.”

Blaine just stood there and rolled his eyes again at your response. At least he didn’t open his loud mouth.

Such a fucking drama queen.

_______________________________________________

As the sun began to set, your stomach started to growl, loudly. You resisted eating all day due to Blaines comments, but you knew you had to eat at some point.

You gathered the courage to make your way into the kitchen to look around.

Thank god they keep this up to date regularly.

There were tons of cans of different soups, ravioli, spaghetti, fruits and vegetables, and non-perishables that would keep you sustained for a long time. Especially with only two people being in the cabin.

You decided to microwave some of the ravioli. Just as you opened the microwave door, it shut again with a hand directly planted on the glass.

“Well well well, what do we have here? Is two ton Tony looking for a little snack?” Blaine said in a mocking tone.

“Fuck off Blaine. It’s dinner time, I’m hungry and I know you are too. You just haven’t eaten yet to prove a damn point and humiliate me. Now if you don’t shut up I will eat all the food and make sure you starve to death.”

He grimaced at your response and walked to a cupboard to look for food of his own. Thank god. You swore you were five seconds away from giving him a swift punch to the face.

You both ate your dinners in separate rooms. You didn’t want to interact with each other more than you had to.

After a few more hours of existing in separate rooms, you decided you wanted to fall asleep for the night. You casually walked into the bedroom, having absolutely no pajamas to change into, you figured you would either sleep with the clothes you had on or just sleep in your underwear. There were enough blankets to keep you warm if you did end up choosing the latter. As you walked into the room you noticed something horrible.

There was only one bed.

How could this even be possible? There were supposed to be four, as most times three to four people were on ski patrol.

Then you remembered three out of the four beds were taken out two months ago, as they were desperately disgusting. The shipments for the new beds hadn’t come in yet, figuring a situation like this wouldn’t even happen at all.

Go figure.

You decided since you got to the bedroom first, you’d have the bed. Fuck Blaine, he’d been an asshole to you the entire time you’ve known him, he can sleep on the damn couch.

You began to strip, thinking it was wise not to smell up the two sets of clothes you had to last you for god only knows how long.

You ended up sleeping in a bra and underwear. Normally you wouldn’t have even worn the bra, but considering Blaine was in the building and you couldn’t lock the bedroom door, you figured it was the safest bet.

As you crawled into bed you heard footsteps heading towards the bedroom.

Here we go.

Blaine entered, looking just as bewildered as you did when you found out there was only one bed.

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

You ignored his comment, simply rolling over under the covers.

He stormed over to the bed and ripped the blanket off, revealing your half-naked body in the process.

You became infuriated.

“Hey!!! Do you fucking mind!” You said screaming and grabbing for the blanket.

Blaine stood there in a daze for several seconds, not expecting to see as much as he was planning on seeing.

Thank god I had my bra on.

You expected Blaine to have a comeback to seeing your body. Something about a beached whale ending up in the bed, or anything along those lines. Surprisingly, he didn’t. He had nothing to say at all. He just turned around and slammed the door behind him.

What the fuck was his issue? Whatever it was, he better fix it fast. Your patience was running thin, and it was only day one.

_______________________________________________

Several days had gone by, and the snowstorm wasn’t slowing down at all.

Blaine had ignored you at all costs. If he had to interact with you, he always made some snide comment under his breath. This somehow pissed you off even more. At least before you didn’t have to guess what he was thinking, he said it directly to your face. Now, you had no clue what he was saying about you. God it made your blood boil.

It was around lunchtime again when you saw him. You had chosen to eat chicken noodle soup that day, as you had been colder that day compared to most others.

On your way out of the kitchen, you bumped into Blaine.

You heard him make a comment under his breath again, something alone the lines of “.......fucking bitch.......where you’re goin.”

You had had enough.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

He was taken aback by your abrasiveness. Nonetheless, he still had a response to your question.

“I said, watch where the hell you’re going you fucking bitch.” He enunciated slowly, in a condescending manner.

You were done.

“I’ve had enough of this fucking bullshit Blaine. Why the hell do you hate me so much? What the hell did I ever do to you?”

“Your looks have insulted me from the day I met you. I learned all that I needed to know by just looking at you.”

Out of no where, you decided to shove him. You shoved him so hard he hit the wall behind him.

He looked confused and offended.

“Did you just shove me?”

“I don’t know, did I just shove you? Or did you trip over your enormous fucking ego?”

Blaine stood up tall and pinned you to the wall.

He looked you dead in the face, his eyes piercing into you with anger and something else...

You returned his stare, hopefully having the same effect on him that he was having on you.

After staring at each other for what seemed like an eternity, Blaine kissed you, hard.

You resisted, you resisted so much but your head didn’t have anywhere to go. After a few seconds you gave into the kiss, slowly moving your lips with his. You hated to admit it, but his lips were so soft. It was like kissing clouds surrounding the gates to heaven.

Finally, Blaine pulled back and began staring into your eyes once more. Again, you lept at each other. You grabbed his hair and the side of his face, while he grabbed your hair and your ass to hike up your leg against his hip. Your lips were on each other in no time, sucking and pulling on both his lips and his tongue.

God you were so turned on.

You hated that he made you feel this way but fuck if he wasn’t good. He felt so goddamn good.

He hoisted you up against the wall, your legs wrapping around his hips as you continued to aggressively make out like the two horny twenty-one-year-olds you were. After kissing for five minutes straight, Blaine put you down so you could both remove your pants.

You spoke first “We don’t tell anyone about this.”

Blaine just nodded in agreement, eager to put his cock inside of you.

He hoisted you up against the wall for a second time, wasting no time shoving his cock into your pussy.

“Ohhhh fuck Blaine... go slow go slow...”

You also hated to admit it, but he wasn’t lacking in at least one department.

He smirked, knowing it was too much for you in such a short amount of time.

“What’s wrong y/l/n, can’t get fucked right either?”

“Maybe if you fucked me better I wouldn’t have to complain so much.”

All the talking had allowed time for your pussy to become soaked. Blaine could feel how wet you were. He also noticed how tight you were.

“Fuck, your pussy has been this tight the entire time and you never told me?”

“Oh Jesus Christ just shut up and fuck me before I change my mind Blaine.”

That’s all he needed to hear. He also took it upon himself to take that as the cue to go as fast as he needed to.

He started pumping in and out of you at a rapid pace, making absurdly loud slapping noises in the process.

You couldn’t help but moan into his neck, his name on your lips every ten seconds.

“Fuck, fuck , fuck Blaine don’t stop! Oh god don’t fucking stop.”

He loved hearing his name come out of your mouth like that. In all honesty, Blaine has wanted to fuck you since the day he met you. He suppressed that lust with crude comments, hoping the feelings would subside. Guess that didn’t work out too well.

“Yeah you like that baby? Huh? Like that I’m fucking your pretty pussy?”

“Oh god yes Blaine! Fuck me harder!”

He wasted no time, pounding into you as fast and as hard as he could. You couldn’t help but let your eyes roll in the back of your head as he fucked you so good you thought you were about to see God himself.

Blaine loved seeing you like this, drained by him fucking you relentlessly. In fact, he loved it so much he felt the need to repress his feelings once again, which would be his last effort in trying to do so.

“I still fucking hate you, oh god, oh fuck.”

You looked at him, dead in the eyes, and said “Bold words coming from a man who’s cock is in me.”

All he could do was smile, going in for another kiss while he continued to plow you.

Both of your moans filled the cabin, screaming with no shame, knowing for a fact no one would hear you.

You felt a tight coil forming in your lower stomach, causing you to hold onto Blaine’s shoulders tighter.

“Oh fuck Blaine, I’m gonna cum, oh god I’m gonna cum.”

Blaine took it upon himself to whisper more comments in your ear as you reached your climax together.

“Goddamn right you’re gonna cum on my cock. This is my pussy. No one else gets to touch it, just me. Cum for me baby, you can do it.”

You both screamed as you came, Blaine unintentionally spilling his seed into you. Thank god you remembered to bring your birth control pill.

Just as you two were coming down from your high, you noticed something out of the corner of your eye.

Not something, but someone.

It was Chaz.

You hadn’t noticed while you were fucking, but the snow had cleared up enough just for a one person rescue party. Chaz had come in just moments ago. However, he didn’t say anything. He really didn’t have anything to say. He was stunned.

As you both stared at Chaz, you were the first to speak.

“Well, fuck.”

#hot tub time machine #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan #Blaine/reader #Blaine x reader

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simplechicwithacrazedheart · 6 years

Text

Through The Years II. (Can read as a standalone)

Through the Years II.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Latina! Reader (though anyone can read/ just replaced Spanish with your native language/vernacular. There will be translations)

Prompt: A glimpse at the life y/n and Tom Holland lived

A/N: I never planned to make a part 2 for Through the Years, wanting to leave the faith of y/n in the hands of the reader, but someone requested it and here I am! This can be read on its own for there will be a quick recap at the beginning! I do recommend everyone read the recap paragraphs, for there are some little details that I decided not include in the part I. The recap does go straight into where this chapter picks up so make sure you don’t skip too much! Also what is proofreading loll.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Very Mild Smut, mild cursing (Do you guys even want smut? I have no idea honestly)

You met Tom Holland on the first day on set. Your manager passed you onto him, asking him to show you around and he agreed. The chemistry was irresistible and the two of you went to bed, multiple times. It was Tom who first proposed that you two should be an official couple, to be something more than just bodies in a bed at night with a, “Be with me”. The words, soft and honest, hung in the air causing your body to tense. Sitting up, clutching the sheet to your chest, you explained how you couldn’t. How your career was just taking off, how it wouldn’t be fair to him, how you wanted to have your own foundation before you could even consider being more with him. How you never wanted people to believe, him to even believe for a second, that you were solely with him to get your name out there. With a kiss to your cool shoulder, he understood and you both made love for the first time, for it was more than sex. It was a silent promise that you would find your way back to each other. A promise that was made the moment you both whispered each others name as release rushed over the both of you. A promise that was made once again when he held you throughout the night and you slept peacefully with him.

Supporting you. That’s how he showed you that he loved you. He managed to get himself to every single one of your premiers for the projects you released no matter how small the film or the role. That brilliant smile of his that grew when he saw you on the carpet, speaking to the interviewers and fans who appeared. How he would sit next to you during the film, his hand finding yours and tracing comforting circles over the back of your hand, knowing that you were terrified of seeing not only yourself on screen, but for the audience's reaction to you, to your character. How he cheered the loudest when your name was called for Best Actress during the Academy Awards for your role in the film “How to be a Proud Latina”, the film the both of you met on. How he had known you would win long before your name was spoken into the microphone.

That night, you and Tom became a couple. Your foundation was set and you were in a healthy place in your life and ready to start building on with him. Those months were hard with the both of you traveling back and forth from your home to his. Those long spans of time where you only wanted him to hold you when you craved his touch. Daily Skype calls became tradition, talking until one of you fell asleep, keeping the call going throughout the night and waking up to seeing the others face. How you gently woke the other with sweet whispers for a moment to say your goodbyes before coaxing the other back to sleep and ending the call. Most of the time, it was him coaxing your back to sleep after him waking to go to the gym at an ungodly hour for his timezone and yours.

Nine months. That’s how long for the both of you to decide that your relationship was not only healthy enough but strong enough to handle any backlash that you both announced your Instagram Lives. In those nine months, he knew he loved you and how many times he had come close to letting those words slip, but he wanted it to be perfect. While there was no doubt that you both loved each other, it was something that just never said. There was no need to. Yet, during that Instagram Live, he admitted it to not only you but to the 2.1 million people that were watching. “...and I’ve fallen madly in love with her,” were his exact words, words that you never forgot. Your confession came quickly as well in your native tongue. You admitted was your heart, your treasure, tu mundo (your world) and placed a kiss on his lips. He mumbled against your lips, reminding you that you were both currently live, signing off and phones discarded you both went to bed, touching each other in places that only belonged to one another.

Three years passed since that moment on Instagram Live. The both of you rapidly approaching your four year anniversary. Sure, people found it odd, especially the public and your family, that you both had still hadn’t tied the knot. After all, you both admitted that you believed, that you knew, the other was the one for you. But, there wasn’t a need and despite the public speculating that there were issues between the both of you, there was no pressure to. You both lived together, something that your parents and grandparents raised their eyebrows at, but accepted. You were both happy. In love. Young and the world at the both of your feet.

The night was beautiful, not a cloud in the sky and due to your distance from the city, millions of glittering lights shined bright above you as music played through the radio, your voice singing along, dancing to yourself, losing yourself in the moment as Tom smiled, singing under his breath and drumming his fingers to the beat against the steering wheel. In the backseat was a picnic basket, still unopened with a blanket placed over it and in Tom’s pocket? A small black box that by the end of the night, the content inside it, the beautiful diamond ring, would be yours.

Fate is cruel, unpredictable.

A truck ran a stop sign, colliding with the passenger side of the car, sending the smaller into the air, flipping it over. Vision blurred, head throbbing and sticking, an unbelievable pain in your side and pain so overpowering in your leg that was best described as numb. You came too for a brief moment, fading in and out, just long enough to take Tom’s hand in yours for a second as he too came to for a moment. That brief moment of comfort as you both hung upside down with only your seatbelts keeping you in place was what kept you both holding on. What stopped you both from letting go.

Weeks passed and Tom awoke. His first thoughts went to you, panic and fear overcoming him when you didn’t wake into the room with his family. It was Harrison who delivered the news to him as he placed the small black box back into Tom’s palm. How you had yet to awaken, how you were hanging on by a thread. It was Tom’s mother and brothers that lead him to your room, each walking by his side, in front and behind him, ready to catch him should he be too weak. After all, he was still supposed to be in bed, but they understood that he needed to see you. He entered the room alone, hearing your mother whispering in Spanish to herself. Your sibling stopping him, informing him on how you made them promise to not allow Tom to see you if you ever got severely injured, how you didn’t want him to see you like that, to have that be his last clear memory of you. The day you made them promise this was the day you got in writing that they would pull the plug should two months pass and there was no sign of improvement. You didn’t want to live on machines. It was Tom speaking in your native tongue that made your sibling side. “Voy a ver el amor de mi vida y estaré allí para ella. Iba a convertirse en mi prometida ese día. Así que puedes irte a la mierda y quitarte de mi camino antes de que yo te muevo. (I am going to see the love of my life and be there for her. She was going to become my fiance that day. So you can fuck off and move out of my way before I move you.)”

He walked to you, taking in your bruises, cuts, the tubes in you, the bandage around your head. His hand took yours, his tears fell over it. Even in your state, your touch cold, corpse-like, still brought him comfort for he can still feel your pulse, however faint. He begged you to wake.“Por favor y/n despierta. Despierta. No puedo vivir sin ti Tu sonrisa. Tu risa. Tu voz. Tu toque. Tú eres mi mejor mitad. Eres mi vida. Quiero casarme contigo. Quiero que seas mi esposa. Ten niños contigo Crecer contigo. Porque eres tú para mí Nadie más puede acercarse. Si mueres, muero contigo. Todavía tenemos mucho que hacer. Me prometiste. Prometiste que no me dejarías. Entonces, por favor no lo hagas No rompas esa promesa. Te amo mi corazón.” (Please, wake up. Wake up. I can’t live without you. Your smile. Your laugh. Your voice. Your touch. You’re are my better half. You are my life. I want to marry you. I want you to be my wife. Have kids with you. Grow old with you. Because you’re it for me. No one else can ever come close. If you die, I die with you. We still have so much to do. You promised me. You promised you wouldn’t leave me. So, please don’t. Don’t break that promise. I love you, my heart.)

He moved to the foot of your bed where your mother was on her knees clutching a rosary. Despite his body protest with sharp pulses of pain, he knelt next to her, took a hand of hers in his and bowed his head, listening as she prayed, silent tears falling down their faces. Your sibling joined and your mother's voice was no longer trembling yet still so frail. When your father entered the room after having been in the doctor's private office, screaming and demanding to be given all the information and resources for him to look into your condition himself, that her voice grew strong as his joined her’s and your sibling’s. Slowly, Tom’s family came into the room one by one, starting with his best mate Harrison, and knelt on the ground around your bed, bowing their head. While they might have not known what your mother was saying in her pray, they still understood.

This was the scene that you watched as you stood by your bed, tears streaming down your face. You screamed at your body, your broken body, to wake up. To stop the pain that emitted from everyone in the room. Your hands tried desperately to grasp your mother’s hand, to cling onto your father’s shirt, to shake your sibling, to reassure Tom’s family, to hold Tom in your arms.

Tom was discharged within the next few days, yet they might as well not have for he practically lived in the chair next to you and at the foot of his bed. Harrison needing to drag him away for the night once visiting hours were over for he wasn’t your husband so he was dragged away before your family who fought tooth and nail to stay by your side and only your mother being allowed to stay despite the nurses’ and doctors’ protest. The moment visiting hours opened in the morning Tom was in your room, he would send your mother home to rest and shower and she would reluctantly leave with Harrison. In these moments when it was solely the two of you, Tom allowed himself to brush his fingertips over your cheeks, over your arms silently. Only wanting to give you the comfort that you gave him. He showed you videos of Tessa and you stood behind him, watching and smiling. Your fingers brushing through his hair, while you couldn’t feel it, you could imagine how those disheveled curls felt beneath your fingertips. You fought that light that called out to you every second for every day. Cursing at the reaper that stood there at the edge waiting to guide you into the light.

“Tom es mi luz. Mi familia es mi luz. Yo no me voy. Te lo prometo. Jodaise.” (Tom is my light. My family is my light. I’m not leaving. I promise you that. Go fuck yourself.) That was your mantra to that damn reaper. Yet day after day, the light at the end of the hall grew brighter and the reaper grew closer, the hairs on the back of your neck standing. It was in one of these moments, these moments when it was just you and Tom that you felt the Reaper’s fingers along your neck, it’s warm touch coaxing you to come along. Your eyes drifted shut. The touch was exactly like Tom’s, goosebumps covered your skin.

“No.” You muttered. “No me voy. (I’m not leaving) ” You failed to notice Tom’s head snap to your hand. “No voy!” (I’m not going!) But despite your protests, a bright light washed over you, your ears ringing. You failed to hear Tom shouting for a doctor as the ringing brought you to your knees, a scream leaving your lips.

The light dulled and blurry silhouettes slowly came into focus. Unfamiliar faces stood around you in scrubs and lab coats. Your heart rate jumping, panic flooding your veins. What was going on? As the ringing died down that you could hear their voices, a bright yellow light flashing in your eye for a moment. “-hear me? Blink twice for yes.” You did as you were told, exhausted from that simple motion. You felt something holding your hand and your eyes found warm brown ones that were flooded with tears and that damn brilliant smile of the person who owned your heart. You found yourself incapable of speaking due to the tube but he understood you and he did not need to speak in order to for you to understand him.

Recovery was not easy. It was hell. Physical therapy was hell. You hated every moment of it, every moment you feel. You felt so damn useless. Yet, Tom was there with you for every moment. Tom and your family all sat down and researched ways to help you while you slept and slowly. You got better.

You took your first step towards Tom without using the bars with tears streaming down your face in the comfort of your own home. He was struggling to keep himself in place, legs tense and ready to spring forward towards you. After that first step came the second and you came down but never hit the ground. Tom never let you hit the ground.

After enduring hell, you were able to walk again and even ran. Ran with you at your pace. You had gotten the all clear and no longer needed to attend physical therapy but were given strict instructions, daily exercise was one.

You leaned against a tree, huffing and puffing, legs so damn sore you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to move any farther. Your eyes shut as you calmed your breath. When you reopened them, there was Tom on one knee, a ring pinched between his thumb and index finger.

“y/n, te amo con todo mi corazón. Hemos vivido mucho y todavía tengo tanto que quiero vivir contigo. Quiero llamarte mi esposa. Quiero criar niños contigo. Quiero dar el siguiente paso contigo. Me mostraste la verdadera fuerza, me enseñaste cómo obtenerla. Me enseñaste a amar con cada centímetro de mi alma. Eres todo para mí. Me hiciste una mejor persona, hiciste mi vida completa. ¿Me harás el honor y te casarás conmigo? (y/n, I love you with all of my heart. We have lived through so much and I still have so much I want to live with you. I want to call you my wife. I want to raise kids with you. I want to take that next step with you. You showed me true strength, taught me how to obtain it. You taught me how to love with every inch of my soul. You are everything to me. You made me a better person, you made my life complete. Will you do me the honor and marry me?)”

Your knees gave out and you fell to them, your hands on his cheeks, your lips on his before he had the chance to worry. You cried. You cried with pure joy, happiness. He knew what Spanish meant to you, how to you, things said in Spanish meant so much more. You knew how he was still far from fluent and how self-conscious he was over it. What you didn't know of were the online classes he took along with your lessons with him. He wanted this moment to be perfect because that’s the life he believed that you deserved. A perfect one. And that’s what this moment was as you nodded your head and the ring found it’s home on your finger. Perfect.

The wedding came and went. Small and private, a moment that was only meant for the two of you, a moment that will live forever in your minds. The moment you became Mrs. (y/l/n)-Holland.

Eight years in the making. With eight years already under your belts, it was easy to incorporate your traditions and his together. The marigolds petals that he helped spread with the younger members of your family, the food that he helped cooked being placed at the ofrenda for those who have past. How he wraps his arms around you as you stand before it with your head bowed, thankful that your photo had still not found its way on there. He stood there with you as you mourned your grandparents and past family members, his hand rubbing your arm slowly, his chin resting on your shoulder, not speaking nor rushing you. Your hand held onto the forearm of the hand that trailed along your shoulder, the candlelight catching on the diamond on your ring finger. When you squeezed his forearm, he nodded and the two of you returned to the festivities outside. It was odd, how one could go from being in perfect silence in the glow of candlelight to hearing the chatter of aunts and uncles, the laughter of children that chased each other around with brightly painted wooden alebrijes in their fists, the music of playing over all of the noise, no noise wasn’t the right word. Life. That’s what the music played over.

“Vamos.” You whispered, despite the sounds of life surrounding the two of you, he heard you perfectly and followed you to the makeshift dance floor a grin plastered on his face. How he loved to dance with you, especially since he had gotten fairly decent at dancing to Spanish music. A hand in his, his free hand over your hips and your free hand over his shoulder. Your hips swaying in perfect sync, pressing against each other as you danced together, the dance sensual and pure. Perfectly reflecting your love for one another.

“I think I just overheard your Tia Maria telling your Tio Berto that he needs to dance like I do.” He whispers, his lips grazing over your ear. A laugh escapes not only your lips but his as well. “Who can blame her? You can move those hips better than most Spanish men, even more, impressive when you take into account that you are a white brit.” You tease, admiring the faint blush that dusted over his cheek at the compliment. Eight years together and you could still make him blush and damn that felt good.

“You mean like this?” His voice dropped an octave, that British accent sending a chill down your spine before his hips pressed firmly against yours as he rolled them, innocent enough for any onlookers to not think much of but just enough for your knees to go weak and to be the reason your grip tightened around him, fingers snaking themselves into his hair and tugging lightly.

“Tu es un diablo, sabes eso mi amor? (You are a devil, you know that my love?)” You groaned into his ear. A smirk played over his thin lips, you could even see a bit of his tongue peeking out from under his front teeth.

“Y tú, (y/n), eres mi ángel, dulce como eres tentador. (and you, (y/n) are my angel, sweet as you are tempting)” You laugh in order to cover up how hot and bother he was making you but uttering those things to you in Spanish, smacking his chest lightly you glare at him. He caught your hand with his and placed a kiss on your knuckles and your heart melted.

Eight years together and he still made your heart melt, he could see it in your eyes and damn, that felt good.

“Es hora de decir adiós a todos.(It’s time to say goodbye to everyone)” You squeaked out, clearing your throat.

“But that’ll take hours darlin’. I don’t know if I can wait that long.” He mumbled into your ear, nipping lightly at it, his head positioned perfectly so no wondering eyes could tell, they’d only think he was whispering in your ear, especially with how relaxed your face was. Being an actress had its perks. It was your turn to whisper in his ear,

“For every hour we take saying goodbye, that’ll be the number of rounds we’ll be having tonight.” You thought you it would only take two hours, you were a pro at leaving parties and had the math it took to say goodbye to everyone and chat with them for a moment down to a science. It should have taken 2 hours and 10 minutes, which rounds off to 2 rounds for tonight even if he tries to drag it out. But, you misjudged your husband's capabilities.

Four hours. He managed to take four hours saying goodbye, the genius stopped to say goodbye to the kids as they were all trying their hand at cartwheels and the show-off walked not only on his hands in front of them causing the children to lose their collective shit, flash you, and all of your family his abs, and proceeded to teach the children how to do it as well, all while smirking at you and glancing his watch, mouthing the number of hours it been at every hour. Walking through the front door, his hand in your back pocket, you laugh.

“You seriously dragged it for four hours, just for four round?! On this day of all days?” You question him, eyebrows raised as you shut the front door. The minute the door closes, he pins you flush against the door, his lips trailing slow tantalizing kisses from your jaw down your neck. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip to keep out from moaning out, he knew your body so well. Knew which exact area to get you going and as his fingers trailed under your shirt and over your side, he was hitting so many of those sweet spots.

“What? We’re celebrating life. Living to our fullest.” He mumbles against your neck, a goofy smile on his lips. His fingers move from under your shirt to squeeze your thigh and on cue, your hips bucked ever so lightly.

“You are such a tease. Not only that, you’re something else entirely.”

“And I love you.” Forehead pressed against yours, he pulls you close, brushing his lips against yours, just enough to make your heart flutter. It’s been eight years and he still has your heart acting as you were the age that you met him at.

“And I love you. Vamos pues. (Let’s go then)” Your fingers weave in together with his and the both of you make your way to the car.

Through the years, you both helped each other. Through the years, you both knew a love like no other. Through the years, you both carried the brightest smiles. Through the years, you both fought and made-up, growing as people along the way. Through the years, you remember why you fell in love with him every single day. Through the years, he remembers why he fell in love with you every single day.

A través de los años Through the years,

que estás juntos That you are together

tenían el mundo a sus pies You both have the world at your feet.

Y maldita sea, es perfecto. And damn it, it's perfect.

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland spanish #tom holland x hispanic #tom holland x spanish reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine

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the-quackson-claxon · 7 years

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Perfect (Sam Holland)

Hey guys! I know I promised this to you guys last night, but I may or may not have fallen asleep before I could post it... oops. Anyway, it’s here now (only about 12 hours late XD).

I want to apologize to any male readers because, as much as I try, I just can’t seem to write gender neutral fics. I’ve tried, I really have, but I just can’t seem to do it.

Word count: 1,132

Warnings: Nothing? Light making out if that counts. And possibly so much fluff you might die? Cute Sam? oh wait no, that can’t be a warning, that’s a constant thing.

“Sam!” Y/n’s sweet voice rang throughout the Holland house.

“What?” he responded to his girlfriend immediately.

“It’s raining!” was her enthusiastic reply as she raced into the room Sam was in, her socks slipping on the floor nearly causing her to fall over.

“And?” Sam questioned, not quite sure where she was going with this.

“And I want to go out in it. Catch up Sam, I thought couples were supposed to be able to read each other’s minds!”

Sam rolled his eyes at her smart-ass comment before commenting, “Darling, if we go out in the rain we’ll get sick.”

“That’s not true, Sam! The temp or whether or not it’s raining has absolutely nothing to do with sicknesses.” She was already putting her shoes on in preparation, and he finally gave in.

“Fine,” he sighed. “I’m coming.”

Within a few minutes, the two were ready to venture outside (it only took that long because Sam was trying to convince Y/n to wear a coat).

Throwing open the front door, Y/n ran out into the street and spun in a circle, drenched in seconds. Sam followed behind more slowly, mostly because he was so focused on her figure, but partially because it was dark and wet and he hadn’t wanted to go outside in the first place. But, he had to admit, it was all worth it seeing the look on her face when the rain landed on her cheeks and slowly ran down her jaw.

She spun for a few seconds until she got too dizzy to continue, and when she stopped she nearly fell over; Sam caught her before she could hit the ground. He pulled her upright and it only took a moment notice the position they were in. His arms were around her waist, and her hands were clutching his shoulders gently to steady herself. As she looked up to meet his gaze, he blushed furiously before speaking.

“Darling, would you dance with me?”

Her eyes widened slightly, completely caught off guard by his request. “But love, there’s no music,” she began, opting to point out the obvious rather than try to voice the fact that they were in the rain… and people only dance in the rain in books and movies… right?

A small smile took over Sam’s features before he replied, “Darling, we don’t need music. Besides, you’re my favorite song anyway. I could listen to you for hours, days even, without getting tired of it. And it’s not only your words, either,” he added. “You could never speak again, and I’d spend all my time listening to your breathing, or maybe I’d listen to your heartbeat instead.”

Y/n was rendered speechless by his words, and although she’d never admit it, she may have teared up slightly. After several long moments of silence, she finally managed to speak. “Sam, you’re incredible. And as cheesy as that was, I love you so much. So yes, I’ll dance with you.”

And so they danced. Neither of them really knew how, but they tried, and it was perfect. They were together, and they were happy.

As they swayed, Y/n couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle. She couldn’t imagine how odd they must have looked to their observers, if any were present. Their clothes were completely soaked, their hair too, and yet here they were; swaying back and forth in the rain, completely consumed in each others eyes, at least mostly oblivious to their surroundings.

“What?” Sam’s voice broke through her thoughts, bringing her back to the present.

“Hm?” she responded, slightly confused.

“You laughed. I was wondering what you were thinking.”

“Oh, just how ridiculous we must look,” she giggled again. “I mean, we are dancing in the rain, completely soaked to the bone.”

“Nah,” Sam breathed, pressing his forehead to hers. “I think we’re fine. It’s more likely that whoever’s watching is jealous of me for having such a wonderful girlfriend.”

Y/n felt a small grin overcome her face as she looked at him affectionately. “You’re such a dork,” she whispered before pressing her lips to his in a short, sweet kiss. When she pulled back to look at him, she met his gaze, and before she knew what was happening, their lips met again, more passionately than before. Her hands, previously wound together behind Sam’s neck, worked their way into his hair, combing through the soft curls.

One of Sam’s arms simply tightened around her waist, pressing her to him, while the other came up to her neck, fingers winding their way into the hair at the base of her neck.

Sam mewled in protest when Y/n pulled back to breath. The moment her lips were no longer on his, his mouth moved to her jaw and neck, placing slow, open-mouthed kisses there before choosing a spot and sucking slightly, probably leaving a slight mark.

“Oh god, Sam,” she breathed, the sensation overwhelming her. “Sam- Sam stop, love.”

He pulled away, embarrassed and already flushed red. “What’s wrong? What did I do? Oh god, I messed up, I’m sorry-”

Y/n placed another gentle kiss on his lips, cutting off his apologies. “Sam, you didn’t do anything wrong. Hell, I loved it. However, we’re still in the middle of the street.” As if to emphasize her words, the rain began to come down harder, drowning out any sounds further away than they were to each other.

Realizing that she was right, and that he hadn’t done anything to upset her, Sam let out a breath of relief before releasing a small chuckle. Admittedly, he was only just realizing how cliche their actions were. Y/n joined in with his laughter, and soon a chorus of giggles could be heard from the road.

After their random moment of amusement ended, they were again left in silence, and it was only a matter of seconds before Sam’s lips were on hers again, this time in a slow, romantic kiss that showcased their feelings for each other, placed them out in the open, on display for the world to see.

Yes they were just kids; yes they were each others’ first love, but what they had was real; what they had was true, and what they had would last a lifetime.

Sam was the one to pull away this time, but he didn’t go far. His forehead pressed against hers, and a hand came up to tuck a piece of Y/n’s dripping hair behind her ear.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered, more to himself than her, though she heard it anyway, due to their close proximity.

“Love, I’m a complete mess,” Y/n protested weakly, turning her head away and looking at the ground.

“Darling, I don’t care. Mess or not, you’re perfect. Completely and utterly perfect.”

Thanks so much to @sam-a-holland for proofreading this for me! You’re a lifesaver! @suit-lady I know I told you I was writing a Haz x reader a while back, and I wanted to let you know that it’s almost done. In the meantime, enjoy this fluffy piece of shit XD. And last but not least, @hufflepuffholland ilysm, thanks for putting up with my rambles last night. I hope you die of feels. (or at least cry. crying is cool too).

#Sam Holland x reader #sam holland imagines #sam holland #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield imagines #spider-man: homecoming #sam holland fic

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cheollies · 7 years

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Grocery Store Worker!Jihoon

a/n: wrote this without proofreading so yeah

Works overnight shifts because he doesn’t have to talk or see many people

Also he can do whatever he wants since there’s only like 12 other people working and they’re all off doing god knows what

is supposed to be restocking and shelving items but really, who’s even going to notice in the morning

drinks like 5 cups of coffee during his shift

can be found some nights falling asleep in the frozen foods aisle

once found Hansol hiding in one of the refrigerators and just walked by without doing anything

once woke up after a nap and it was dead silent, like no one around, there was no sound, nothing

spent an hour trying to find everyone

turns how they all thought it would be funny to see Jihoon’s reaction if he thought they were all gone

makes the new hires go fetch coffee for him, but it’s like 2 am and Chan doesn’t know where he’s supposed to get a cup of coffee at this time

steals food

glares at anyone that walks by and sees him eating food

‘I work overnights, this place owes me food’

Very awkward around customers

Walks pass them while thinking ‘don’t talk to me don’t talk to me don’t talk to me’

Caught Soonyoung free dancing in the middle of the deli meat aisle

Is forced to the listen to the mixtapes that his coworkers put up on the speakers

Was also forced to listen to a rap battle that happened over the speaker and then Seungcheol proceeding to ask customers who they thought was better

When he does decide to do his job, Jihoon has to carry a ladder to help reach the top shelves and everyone snickers because they’re watching him over the security cameras

Got challenged by Soonyoung to do a cart race and at first Jihoon’s like ‘that’s dumb’

But five minutes later, he’s sitting in a cart with Seungcheol going to push him down the aisle while Soonyoung sits in another cart next to him with Hansol behind him and once Seungkwan makes his dramatic start motion, they’re off down the aisle

Ended up accidentally tipping over a shelf and spending the night cleaning it up

The next night, Jihoon ended up jousting with Soonyoung

Also ended up tipping another shelf

Playing with carts got banned

Obviously Jihoon met you in the store

It was one in the morning and you realized that you really needed to stock up on food or else you’d die

And you really didn’t have time to do it in the morning since you had work and school, so you just left your house at one in the morning to pick up groceries because why not

You enter the 24 hour grocery store, awkwardly passing by a few workers and hoping they don’t talk to you

And you continue on your way, pushing the cart as you begin to fill it full

And you’re almost done, just almost because you needed your favorite cereal or else you would not live tomorrow

so you go to the cereal aisle and guess what, it’s up there, on the top shelf where your hands could barely reach and now you’re forced to ask for help because you really really wanted the cereal

the store has this thing at the end of every aisle where you can press a button to request for help and so you press the button while waiting patiently in front of the cereal

‘you needed help?’

And you’re so relieved because ‘yes I can finally get my cereal and get out’

But when you turn over, there’s this man, who’s probably just an inch taller than you and you’re just ‘how tf is he supposed to reach it if I can’t’

Jihoon is waiting impatiently for you to answer because you’ve been just staring at him for a minute now

You laugh awkwardly ‘I need help getting a cereal down, is there perhaps someone taller who can….’

Jihoon scoffs, it’s one in the morning and he’s already being demeaned for his height

‘I can get it down too.’ Jihoon smugly states

And you’re just ‘are you sure, I mean I saw a pretty tall guy when I walked in’

‘I CAN DO IT JUST WATCH ME’

Now you’re covering your mouth to hold back your laughter as he tries reaching for it on his tippy toes with his fingers barely brushing against the box

Cue Mingyu walking by ‘hey Jihoon need help’

‘NO I DON’T NEED HELP I CAN DO IT’ Jihoon turns back to you who is holding back a smile, ‘DON’T GO ANYWHERE’

and so Jihoon leaves for a moment and just when you’re about to leave, Jihoon comes back with this little ladder and he’s angrily setting it up before walking on it and grabbing the box

‘I told you I could get it’

You give an amusing nod ‘yes I’m very sorry I underestimated you’

and as much as Jihoon didn’t want to admit it, he found you really cute, the way you were just dressed in a tshirt and pajama pants, and the way your eyes crinkled when you smiled

and suddenly everyone is gasping

because what’s this

is that? Is that Jihoon at the cash register checking you out?

Yes, at one in the morning, Jihoon is scanning your items one by one in a seemingly slow fashion as if on purpose (because it was on purpose)

Light conversation fills the air and oh my

Is that? Is that Jihoon blushing with a smile

Needless to say, all the guys are staring at the security cameras with an awe look on their face because wow this was a different side to Jihoon

‘oh my god what is he doing?’

‘he’s walking her out’

‘omg’ is what every says

and as you walk away, with your heart jumping out of your chest, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d see the cute worker again

but of course you do see him again, you see him every night after that because you just happen to forget a few things and end up walking right back into the grocery store in the middle of the night

and suddenly you’re walking around the aisles with Jihoon, eagerly talking about anything and everything with smiles upon your faces as you’re being watched over the security cameras

after the sixth night of visiting and buying a lame stack of magazines, you and Jihoon awkwardly stand at the doors, waiting for one another to say ‘goodbye’ or perhaps something different

then the speakers start up

and there’s light bickering over the speaker before a loud ‘JUST ASK HER OUT ALREADY’

red faced and embarrassed, with slight anger on Jihoon’s part, you grin and Jihoon sheepishly smiles back

and it’s a smooth road from there with small bumps from the interfering male coworkers

you often visit Jihoon dead in the middle of the night with a warm cup of coffee you freshly brewed at midnight for him

and he’s so thankful because Chan brings him the wrong kind of coffee every night

give you free food on him

gives you your favorite cereal for free

also may or may not have signed you up for perks so that he can ring you up with discounts

doesn’t show much affection but when he does, he tries to do it in the corner of the store where there’s no cameras and he can sit and hold your hand without the guys gushing to him

did cart races with you even though they were banned

says he let you win

he actually did since he let Seungcheol push you and we all know Seungcheol is strong and could probably push you hard enough to go through a wall

you still tease Jihoon about his height, asking him all the time to get something from the top shelf and he will not let the others help because his pride is on the line

very much star struck by you

because it happens on more than one occasion when he catches you drifting during one your visits

sitting against the wall, Jihoon waits patiently for you to wake up since you had fallen asleep on his shoulder

fell asleep with you once and the guys all huddled around to catch pictures which they later sent you in the morning

Look he may be lazy and uninterested in his job, but once he sees you step through those doors with a steaming cup of coffee, suddenly his job doesn’t suck anymore. He doesn’t mind stocking the shelves if you’re there bickering with him over the non-existent color coded items on the shelves. And honestly, when his job gets boring and unbearable, even watching you rest your head on him is the most interesting thing in the world.

#jihoon #svt #seventeen #woozi #svt scenarios #seventeen scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenarios

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darkwing-katy · 7 years

Text

Second Chance - Part Four

I will never be able to get over the responses I’ve been getting to this story. If I could, I would hug all of you for your comments, your messages, all of it. I’ve decided I’m gonna try to make Sundays update days, so I have enough time to work on each next chunk the way I really want to, and then so @sannvers has enough time to proofread them. Thank you for your patience, and I hope you like chunk four! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

Title: Second Chance

Pairing: Eventual Gaston x Fem!Reader

Rating: T

Words: 6,405

Summary: You try to stop Gaston from shooting the Beast and falling to his death, but you arrive too late to save him. As you sit there, sobbing, the Enchantress overs you a second chance to save him.

Tagging: @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @with-a-hint-of-pesto-aioli @hobbithorse19 @leah5684 @princessbelgoof @captainskyline @theoncergames @geeky-girl-394 @were-allstoriesinthe-end084 @brooke-supernatural16 @certainasthesvn @jordyhaley @superlokidwholock @smilesnjh @prongspower @bitchingqueenoferebor @scarletdarkholme @hemmingbaes @bae-kage @areuslow @lovelylpevensie @uknwwhttheysayboutthecrzy1s @moonbeams-and-pie @17gnomes-in-a-trenchcoat @superwholockedrosx @panda-reads-stuff @ultimatetrashlord @elenawrit @the7thsilence @blackxthexbeast @rainwing-galaxy

Previous Chapter

“Rise and shine!” you sang, balancing a new silver tray in one hand as you opened the cell door. You were unusually perky this morning despite not sleeping well—no doubt due to the delicious fresh coffee you’d gotten from the kitchen. You’d thought about finding Belle, but decided to go ahead and make sure Gaston was alright after his first official night in the cell.

Okay, so maybe you were feeling a bit guilty about the fact that you were sleeping in a lush bed while he had only a cold stone floor. He may deserve it, but knowing that only made you feel a little better.

Which was why you had gotten up at sunrise to visit him. Yes, you definitely aren’t visiting him so early because you’re still crushing on him, the little voice in your head nagged. You ignored it.

Gaston was on the opposite side of the cell in almost the same position you’d left him in, with his head and back against the stone wall and his legs sticking straight out. The only differences were that his arms were crossed against his chest and his jacket had remained off, although you saw that he’d put his vest back on. The peaceful expression you’d seen yesterday was back, and you smiled to yourself at the sight.

At the sound of your voice, he stirred, opening his eyes. He tilted his head to look up at you, the smirk already on his lips. You entered the cell as he stretched his arms upwards, working out the stiffness with a slight wince. “Someone had a good night’s sleep,” he winked, “dreaming about me, no doubt.”

“You wish,” you replied, setting the tray down. I wish. “Brought you some food.”

“How thoughtful of you.” You rolled your eyes at the sarcastic remark and began to gather the dishes of yesterday on the other tray. “It’s nice to see that someone still cares.”

“I don’t know if I would go that far,” you muttered, knowing that it was a lie. Once you’d gotten everything together, you turned to leave.

“What, you’re not going to stay?”

You spun around, only a step away from the door, taking care not to drop anything. Do you want me to? “And why should I?” you asked, keeping your voice casual.

The smirk grew into a wolfish grin. “Because a man like me always enjoys the company of a beautiful woman like you.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. No wonder Belle got annoyed by him. If this is how every single conversation between him and her started, I have no clue how she didn’t just smack him upside that stupid head of his. When you opened your eyes, you forced a flirty smile onto your lips. “Unfortunately, I have better things to occupy my time with right now.” Like what? It hasn’t even been an hour since sunrise! What could you possibly have to do besides spend time with the man you’ve daydreamed about? your inner voice screamed at you.

“Such as?”

You stepped backwards onto the staircase. “Anything and everything that doesn’t include talking to you,” you said sweetly, kicking the door shut with your feet.

Gaston rolled his eyes. “You can’t fool me. You’ll be back.” You ignored him, instead continuing to take your leave. “Try not to miss me too much!”

“Don’t worry; I won’t!” you called back. You heard his laughter echo down the stairs after you.

Despite the fact that Belle had given you and Maurice a proper tour yesterday afternoon, you really only remembered the locations of four rooms (other than Gaston’s cell, of course): your bedroom, the grand ballroom, the dining area, and the library. The idea of returning to sleep held no appeal for you, nor did you feel hungry yet. You wanted to go back to the ballroom, but felt like that would be odd, to go there by yourself just to be there. That left the library.

You entered the room and were struck once more with awe at the sheer size of it. Beautifully carved shelves towered far above your head, holding rows upon rows of equally beautiful books. Candelabras of gold were scattered about, unlit but ready to assist anyone who wished to read in the darkness of night. Tables and desks were littered with books, opened and unopened. You let your hand trail against the top of a table. As your hand traced along the polished wood, it brushed up against a book. You inhaled deeply, allowing the scent of paper to fill your nostrils. You exhaled and grinned.

So many books to choose from!

“I see you’re also a book lover,” a deep voice came from above you.

You jumped, looking up to find the source of the voice. Prince Adam stood on one of the balconies, bathed completely in the gold sunlight. The sight reminded you of the golden Agathe.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He leaned against the balcony rail to better see you.

“It’s alright,” you replied, embarrassed that he’d made you jump. You wondered whether you needed to curtsy, but chose not to when you saw that Adam wore casual attire—a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up and navy pants. He didn’t even have any shoes on. “I was just admiring your collection. There’s a lot to choose from here.”

He laughed, a deep, genuine laugh. “Yes, there is,” he agreed. “You’re up earlier than I expected anyone to be.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “I could say the same about you.”

He laughed again. “Fair enough.” He stood back into his upright position, holding his arms out. “It’s been a while since I’ve felt the sunlight on my skin,” he admitted, “so I woke early to come here and watch the sunrise.”

You leaned against the nearest table. “How was it?”

He shrugged. “A little cold at first. I’ll have to get used to not having a thick layer of fur keeping me warm anymore.” He cocked his head to the side, his gaze now focused on the bannister. “But it was wonderful,” he said quietly.

You smiled at his sincerity. It must be so strange to be a beast for so long and then become human again. I can’t even imagine how he must feel right now. I wonder what I’d miss the most…

Adam clapped his hands together, pulling you out of your musing. “So! What are you looking to read on this fine morning?” He released his hands, indicating the library in an overly grand gesture. “I know where everything is, so if there’s something in particular you’d like, I can tell you where to find it.”

You thought for a moment, unsure of what you wanted to read. Adam must’ve picked up on your hesitation, because he spoke again:

“I know Belle is fond of Shakespeare. Would you like that?”

You snorted. “As long as it’s not that stupid Romeo and Juliet that she’s been obsessed with.”

Adam doubled over in laughter. “Oh, finally, someone with good taste,” he replied, his voice full of mirth. “Have you read it?”

You rolled your eyes and sat on the table. “No. She’s been trying to convince me to give it a chance, but it just doesn’t sound appealing. It’s a three-day squabble that ends with six people—including the main characters!—dead, all because of a supposed ‘love at first sight’.” You scoffed. “She cried the first time she finished it, you know?”

Adam grinned. “Why am I not surprised?”

You swung your legs back and forth. “We were both sitting on a hill, reading, and all of a sudden I hear her sniffling. The next thing I knew, she was crying and blubbering about the fact that both Romeo and Juliet were dead, and they’d been so close to having their happy ending.” Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a tiny bit; Belle hadn’t blubbered per se, but she had shed a few tears. “Talk about ridiculous. Who would just kill themselves because they thought their loved one was dead?”

The prince sat down, allowing his legs to dangle through the railing. “I agree wholeheartedly, but that’s funny, coming from you.”

You frowned at him. “Why?”

He cocked his head. “You convinced an enchantress to send you back in time to risk your life and save the man you loved after you watched him die.” You felt your face heart up. Well, when you put it that way… “Wouldn’t you say that’s a tad hypocritical of you?”

You pursed your lips. “Fine. Yes. You have a good point,” you muttered, turning your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him. You could still feel his eyes on the back of your head. “Where’s Belle, anyway?” you asked, hoping that he’d take the bait and allow the subject to change.

He did, although you sensed that he knew exactly what you were doing. “Still asleep, I believe.”

You nodded. There was a short pause between the two of you, neither of you knowing how to continue the conversation or if you even should. Before the silence could stretch out too long, you found yourself blurting, “Did she ever tell you how we met?”

“No,” Adam replied, a little too eagerly, you thought. He obviously didn’t know how to proceed in this situation, either. But you supposed that would happen to someone who’d been locked in his own castle for years with only servants to talk to.

You thought back to that day. It was easy to remember. “I’d just moved to Villenueve a few days before. I was on my own, and had mostly kept to myself while I settled in. But one day I’d had enough of staying indoors, so I went to town.” You found yourself mentally reliving that day, and an unconscious grin formed on your face. “I noticed this man in a tan jacket was not-so-secretly following after a woman in a blue dress. I wasn’t sure if she’d noticed him, so I just meandered up to her.” You moved your arms in an imitation of walking. “‘Bonjour!’” You chirped, giving a small wave to an imaginary Belle. “She looked at me with a smile, although I could tell that it was more out of politeness than anything else. I leaned in close enough to whisper, ‘I know that we’re complete strangers, but I felt inclined to tell you that there’s a man following you.’”

You sighed, an imitation of Belle’s reaction to your words. “She looked at me and whispered back, ‘For someone who considers himself a master hunter, he’s very obvious, isn’t he?’ And then the two of us started laughing, and we introduced ourselves and the rest is history.” You patted a closed book next to you. “I was so excited to find another girl who loves to read. My impression of Villenueve was that it was that the people were small-minded in regards to women’s roles, so Belle gave me an escape from that. It worked both ways, actually.” Your legs had stopped swinging at some point during your tale, and now you sat on the table, unmoving. “From that day on, I tried my best to be a buffer between her and Gaston. I really have no clue how successful I was, even now. He’s a persistent man who’s as stubborn as he is vain.” Your words reminded you of the fact that at this moment, the very man you were talking about lay trapped in a cell, and you felt the grin slip off your face.

Adam absorbed your words without interrupting, but now that you were done, he spoke. “I’m glad she had a friend like you to help—not that she needs help.” You glanced at the prince, who was leaning his head against the bannister. He was right about that. She was a fiercely independent woman, and she didn’t need you to help out with Gaston’s advances, but you also knew that she appreciated it nonetheless.

The silence between you two resumed, and you hopped off the table to begin your search for a good book.

Adam didn’t offer assistance, and you spared him another glance before turning to the nearest shelf. He seemed lost in thought, and you hoped he wasn’t thinking about Gaston being in the castle. It suddenly occurred to you that Gaston attempting to kill him could be construed as treason, and he could very easily demand death as punishment. You doubted that he would (or that Belle would even allow such a thing), but you found that a nasty little minnow of fear had begun to swim around in your stomach at the realization.

What if I saved him only for him to be put to death?

A familiar title caught your eye and you pulled the book out—Hamlet. You’d read it once before, but it had been a while. You pulled the book from its place, noticing that Romeo and Juliet was few books down. You shook your head. You’d found the Shakespeare section, it seemed.

“What does Belle like?” Adam suddenly asked. You took a few steps back in order to see him properly. “As in gifts. What would she like as a gift?” If you hadn’t known he was a prince, you wouldn’t have guessed it from the hesitant way he asked. It was cute, actually.

You pondered his question for a minute before the perfect answer came to you. “Paper and things to sketch with.”

Adam raised a questioning eyebrow.

“She likes to design inventions,” you explained. “I can’t tell you how many times I’d sit in her house, watching Maurice tinker with his music boxes, and Belle would be sitting across from me, a pen and paper in hand, drawing up her latest idea.”

Adam nodded in agreement. “Excellent.” He jumped to his feet. “I’m afraid I must take my leave, but stay as long as you like.” He smiled at you before climbing down the stairs that led up to the balcony.

“Bye!” you called after him. He gave you a wave, then was gone. You shook your head, amused. “I guarantee you that he’s going to get as much paper as he possibly can,” you said out loud. The books gave no response, but you smiled as if they had and found a chair to sit in.

Scene I. Elsinore. A Platform Before The Castle. FRANCISCO at his post. Enter to him BERNARDO.

Bernardo: Who’s there?

Francisco: Nay, answer me: stand, and unfold yourself!

You made yourself comfortable. It was going to be a good day.

“I knew you’d be back,” Gaston said smugly, shifting to see you better as you opened the door.

“Oh, shut up.” On the tray was more tea and water, as well as bread and a bowl of hot soup that you were trying very hard not to spill as you carried it into the cell. You carefully set the tray on the ground, then grabbed the small stool and pulled it so that you were across from Gaston but still able to lean against the wall. You attempted to find a comfortable position before finally deciding on crossing your legs and your arms. Once you were settled, you faced him.

He ignored you, immediately grabbing the bowl of soup and gulping it down. You wondered if he was actually that hungry or if he was doing it to make you uncomfortable on purpose. I’m honestly not sure which I’d prefer, you thought, frowning.

While he ate (still ignoring you), you studied him. His movements were as confident as always, but there was a slight stiffness that you saw whenever he moved his upper torso. Probably because of all the bruises. And sleeping on the floor. He shifted against the wall, brushing his left shoulder, and he grimaced into the bowl.

The guilt you’d felt that morning returned with a vengeance. Maybe I should bring him a blanket. Or a pillow. Or both. I’m the one responsible for him, right? Surely Adam wouldn’t object to that. You made a mental promise to find a simple pillow and bring it when you brought dinner.

Well, he obviously wasn’t going to say anything anytime soon. He’d finished the soup and was now tearing into the fresh loaf of bread. You reached into your apron and pulled out Hamlet, figuring that you could get a few pages read while he ate.

Hamlet: To be or not to be; that is the question. Whether ‘tis nobler in the mind to suffer The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, And by opposing end them? To die: to sleep; No more; and by a sleep to say we end The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks—

“What are you doing?” You’d only gotten a few lines read when Gaston decided to speak. You were pretty certain that he’d waited to say anything on purpose just to annoy you.

You held up the book in response, not bothering with a verbal reply.

“Seriously? You’d rather read than enjoy my wonderful company?” He actually sounded offended, like you were being rude to him instead of it being the other way around.

You continued to ignore him, keeping your eyes on the page.

The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to, ‘tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish’d. To die, to sleep; To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there’s the rub—

You heard Gaston moving, but forced yourself to move on to the next sentence, assuming that he was just stretching.

For in that sleep of death what dreams may come—

The sound of boots on the stone floor distracted you. You glanced up to see Gaston standing, somehow managing to radiate pomposity despite his injuries and having been in a cell for two days. A twinge of concern sounded in your mind, and you considered the idea that you were sitting away from the exit. It would be so easy for him to just run, you thought. He could slip through the door and be gone and there would be nothing I could do about it. Oh, you could try to stop him, and you would try, but you knew that in the end, he would win.

He rotated his shoulders, the grimace returning as he did so. There was a soft crack as his shoulders went up then down. You winced at the sound, which he noticed with an eyebrow raise and smirk. He took a step towards you, and your eyes inadvertently flicked to the door, betraying your concern. He paused, allowing himself to consider the door. The tension surged as you waited for him to try for escape.

He looked back at you, almost as if daring you to try and stop him. You tensed, ready to jump up, but to your confusion, he started chuckling. “Don’t worry. Even I know that escaping would not be in my best interests.” He turned and sauntered over to you, stopping to rest against the curved wall next to you. “Not that you’d be able to stop me, but you know that, don’t you?” He leaned down, and you could feel the heat from his body as it drew closer to yours. He still smelled of faint gunpowder and beer, but now you could smell sweat mixed in as well. He needs a bath. With a groan of frustration, you dropped your book into your lap and shoved his shoulders, pushing his face away from yours.

“Can you give me some space? I’m afraid your arrogance might rub off on me. And you stink.”

He allowed you to push him back, but only a little. He resumed his upright position, leaning on the wall, but now he turned to his right so that his full body was facing you. With you seated and him being so tall, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that his crotch was almost eye-level to you.

Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it, (Y/N), don’t you dare, don’t you DARE NO DON’T LOOK KEEP STARING AT THE PAGE JUST LOOK AT THE PAGE AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T THINK ABOUT IT

With great effort, you kept your eyes on the book, although your brain was too busy shouting at you to comprehend the words. In order to maintain the appearance that you were unbothered by Gaston’s posturing, you turned the page, despite not finishing Hamlet’s soliloquy.

Hamlet: No, not I; I never gave you aught.

Ophelia: My honour’d lord, you know right well you did; And, with them, words of so sweet breath composed As made the things more rich: their perfume lost

Gaston shifted, no doubt trying to get you to look at him. You clenched the edges of the book, hoping that it would help you focus. It didn’t. Don’t fall for it. Just keep reading, (Y/N). Oh, merde, this is harder than I thought it’d be. Maybe just a peek—NO DON’T GO THERE! NOT AN OPTION!

“Are you just going to read the whole time you’re here?”

You exhaled deeply, still fighting the urge to glance at him. “I was planning on it,” you replied.

Silence. Then, “What of LeFou?”

You blinked and looked at him, confused by his question. “What of LeFou?” you repeated.

“How is he?” Was that actual concern in Gaston’s eyes? You examined his face. He had schooled it into an unreadable expression, but you’d definitely seen something there.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen him since that night.”

“Oh.”

Was that guilt? Could the great Gaston actually be feeling remorse for his actions? You felt a little bubble of hope. Maybe spending time in here was good for him. Maybe he was actually thinking about what he’d done and how wrong it’d been. Maybe he was even realizing that his arrogance and selfishness was the reason he’d wound up locked in a cell.

Maybe he’s changing!

An idea formed in your head. You had no plans for that afternoon—it would be a perfect opportunity to ride into town and check on LeFou. Then you could let Gaston know that his oldest companion was okay!

You slammed the book shut and hopped up, nearly headbutting the man (well, that’s what he’d get for standing too close to you) in the process. “I have to go,” you said, trying to not seem too eager to leave.

Gaston didn’t move from his spot on the wall, although you saw that he looked disappointed at your sudden departure. Another flash of guilt hit you; the poor man was probably bored out of his mind here. You were the only form of social interaction that he received these days.

“Already? But we didn’t even have a full conversation!” he complained. “It’s been less than an hour! What am I supposed to do without your pleasant company to keep me entertained?”

Alright, the guilt was gone. Once again he’d made it all about him without seeming to realize how selfish he was being. And he was doing so well, you lamented.

He followed you to the door, though he didn’t make any movement to leave with you. With a sigh, you spun around and shoved the book at him. He left out a short “oof” at the unexpected action, his hands reaching up to grab it before it could fall to the floor. “Try reading,” you replied with a grin and a wink. You slipped through the door but didn’t close it yet.

“Well, that’s not my idea of entertainment,” he muttered, holding the book away from his body as if he expected it to bite him. He looked back at you. “Are you sure? Because I can think of a hundred things that would be more fun than reading a book.”

You shut the door in his face. “Sorry, Gaston. I don’t think your idea of fun and my idea of fun match up.” Well, that’s a blatant lie, the dirty voice in your head pointed out. You know you’d enjoy doing ‘things’ with him. You were really starting to hate that voice. You felt your ears turn pink and turned away before he could see the blush creeping up your face.

That’s right, (Y/N). Just walk away. Don’t think about things, and especially don’t think about the fact that his crotch was right next to you a few minutes ago. That’s a thing that you definitely don’t want to be thinking about.

“Oh, shut up,” you mumbled, staring at the ground while you walked, too encouraged by Gaston’s change in behavior to allow the voice to say anything further.

You had a mission to accomplish.

It was almost evening when you rode into town. You tied your horse up at Belle’s house. For a brief moment, you considered going inside and saying hi to Maurice, but ultimately chose not to. You needed to find LeFou. He was most likely to be at the tavern, where he and Gaston had spent most of their evenings.

You entered the tavern and scanned the crowd for the shorter man. You saw him sitting in the same corner you’d sat in less than a fortnight ago, back when the townspeople had been singing Gaston’s name over and over again. It feels like it’s been longer, you thought, making your way to the man. The closer you got, the more you realized that he was upset. He stared blankly at his full mug of ale, tuning out everything around him.

“LeFou?” you asked, stopping at the edge of the table.

He looked up at the sound of his name. When he saw you, he leaned back in confusion. “Yeah?”

“May I sit?”

He shrugged and leaned his head against the wall behind him. You grabbed the chair nearest him and sat in it. Neither of you said anything, and you realized you had no idea how to start a conversation with him. Should you mention Gaston? Should you ask how he’d been? Should you offer to buy him another drink?

Your eyes flicked to the full mug. Okay, maybe not a drink. Food? As you mulled, you took the time to study him. He looks so…tired. Faded yellow bruises were scattered on his face, and dark bags rested under his brown eyes. When was the last time he slept?

“What do you want, (Y/N)?” the portly man asked, scooting forwards and resting his head in his hands.

You blinked, caught off guard by his usage of your name. “You know my name?”

LeFou chuckled bitterly. “Of course I know your name. You’re Belle’s friend.” He finally lifted the mug and took a long drink. After he set the mug back down, he faced you, arms crossed over his chest. “What do you want?”

“I…uh…” You struggled to find a good excuse for talking to him. You couldn’t exactly blurt out that Gaston had been asking about him, now, could you? “I was just…”

You thought back to that fateful night. Suddenly, you knew what you needed to say. “I just wanted to thank you for telling Belle and me where Gaston was when we got to the castle. If you hadn’t told us, we’d have had to scour the place, and we probably would’ve been too late. So…thanks.”

“You’re welcome, I guess.” LeFou took another long drink.

You frowned. “You don’t seem too happy about that.”

He laughed sarcastically. “No, I’m overjoyed that I assisted you two in your epic quest to save the Beast,” he said, shaking his head. “But you didn’t save him.”

You froze. “Who?” you whispered, although you already knew his answer.

“Gaston.” His eyes narrowed. “Tell me, did you see him fall?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You tried to act nonchalant, but inside, you were frantic. How does he know about that? He couldn’t have seen it! So how—?

“I found his gun.” LeFou inhaled deeply and let out his breath in a shuddering sigh. You watched him, confused. “After the curse was lifted, I went looking for him. All I could find was his gun, broken into pieces. There was a stone bridge almost directly above me, and I knew. I knew he’d fallen, and no one, not even Gaston, could survive a fall like that.” He shuddered again, and you saw that his eyes were full of tears. “I couldn’t find his body, though. I don’t know what happened to it.” He looked up at the ceiling, no doubt trying to hide his tears from you. He sniffled and raised the mug to his lips once more.

You were struck with pity for this poor man who thought his best friend was dead. You had never once thought Belle dead during her absence, but you’d been fraught with fear for her. How much worse must it be for him? you wondered.

“LeFou, I’m…I’m so sorry,” you said in a soft voice. You placed your hand on his shoulder, certain he would shrug it off. He didn’t, instead accepting your attempt at comfort. When he faced you again, the tears were gone, although his eyes remained red.

“He hated you, you know.” LeFou’s voice wavered as he spoke.

Wait, what? “He did? Why?” You frowned.

He smiled weakly. “You were the girl who kept getting in the way of him and Belle.” You removed your hand from his shoulder as he shook his head. “Do you know how many times he’d be drunk and complaining that if it weren’t for you constantly getting in the way, he’d be married to Belle by now? ‘(Y/N) this, (Y/N) that. LeFou, I hate that woman!’”

You felt your cheeks warm at his words. “Oh. I didn’t know that,” you whispered. Does he still hate me? He certainly doesn’t act like it now…

“For a while there, I actually thought he secretly liked you—and you him.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. You closed your mouth, swallowed, then tried again. Fortunately, before you could say anything stupid and incriminating, LeFou continued.

“I guess it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

You shook your head, relieved by his easy dismissal of your apparently not-so-secret crush. “I guess not.”

The silence that followed was broken by a man, tall and thin and wearing a pink shirt under his tan vest. He set a fresh mug of ale in front of LeFou and gave him a sympathetic shoulder squeeze before walking away.

“Thanks, Stanley,” LeFou muttered, taking a final gulp of his first beer. You doubted that Stanley heard him, but when you spared a quick glance, you saw that Stanley was smiling sadly at LeFou. His eyes widened when he saw you watching him, and he turned around to join the other two men that he was always hanging around.

“(Y/N), can I ask you something?”

You turned back to LeFou. “Yes.”

“If Belle did something that bothered you in a moral way…would you still care for her?”

You frowned. “Can you elaborate?”

LeFou’s mournful dark eyes met yours, and he began his tale.

The sounds of your feet as they stomped down on the stairs were definitely loud enough to alert Gaston of your impending presence. You were so furious you barely noticed the ascent to the cell. Your hand yanked on the lever and you kicked open the door.

Gaston looked up from the book in his hands and grinned when he saw you. “Ahh, (Y/N), you’re back!” he began, but you cut him off.

“You absolute bastard!” you yelled.

His grin faded. “Somebody’s upset…”

“Oh, I’m a hell of a lot more than just upset, you egomaniac!” You stomped over to him. “You abandoned your best friend!”

Gaston rolled away from you and stood, holding up the book in protest. “What are you talking about?” he demanded, stepping away as you marched towards him.

“What are you talking about?” you mocked. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Gaston. That night when you riled up the whole town into a murderous rampage and blackmailed your ‘dearest companion’ into helping you? The same ‘dearest companion’ who constantly followed you around, giving you a boost whenever someone bruised your ego? The ‘dearest companion’ that you left lying under a damn piano?” You jabbed at him with your hand, but he used the book as a shield. Without thinking, you kicked at his shin. He glanced down, which gave you the opportunity you needed to knock the book out of his grasp.

“(Y/N), what are you—ow!” You’d managed to back him closer to the wall. You slammed your arm across his chest, pinning him in place. He winced as his sore shoulder hit the cold stone.

“What kind of a person just leaves their friend like that? What kind of selfish, stupid person can look their best friend in the eyes and see that they need help, then just leave them lying there and not give a damn?” You felt your fury radiating from every fiber of your being as you growled at him.

LeFou had told you everything—how he’d gone along with Gaston’s plan to murder Maurice but felt guilt over it, how he’d slowly realized that Gaston was getting worse and worse, how he’d been uncomfortable with Gaston’s actions but had supported him because “That’s what friends do, right?”. He’d admitted to being bothered by the treatment of Belle and Maurice but how Gaston had threatened him. After finishing his second mug of ale, he’d explained about the subsequent storming of the castle and the attack of the inanimate objects (whom you now knew to be the cursed servants). You’d felt yourself growing more and more upset at Gaston’s actions towards LeFou, despite this being the most you’d ever interacted with the shorter man. Then he’d told you about Gaston’s abandonment of the battle (and him) in favor of killing the Beast (LeFou’s voice had cracked when he told you how Gaston had simply told him, “It’s hero time,” before running off), and your anger had boiled over.

You’d jumped up from your seat and rushed out of the tavern, feeling nothing but a deep desire to confront Gaston as soon as possible. On the journey back to the castle, your anger had only grown as you thought over LeFou’s words.

“I—wait, are you talking about LeFou?”

“YES I AM TALKING ABOUT LEFOU—WHO ELSE WOULD I BE TALKING ABOUT?” Your voice had risen from a growl to a roar.

Gaston flinched at the sudden increase in volume. “I didn’t abandon him,” he tried to say.

“LIAR!”

“Okay, so what if I did?” he shouted back, lifting his hands up. “Why does it matter?”

“Oh, it matters a lot! I would never think of doing such a thing to Belle! I care about her too much! But you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you? You only care about yourself!”

“That’s not true at all!”

“No, I guess it isn’t, because if you had an ounce of self-preservation, you’d have run away when the Beast let you go! But no, what did you do?” You dropped your arm and held your hands up, mimicking his defensive pose. “Instead of doing the smart thing, you decided that your pride just couldn’t take it, and you just had to shoot him!” You could picture that night easily, only this time, instead of being propelled by desperation to save Gaston, you saw it through raw anger. “So you shot him, not only once—no, the great Gaston had to make sure he didn’t lose. So you shot again, and not once did you realize that the ground beneath your feet was literally falling!”

Hot tears began to stream down your face at the memory. Gaston realized that you were done, if only to take a few gulps of air, and tried once more to calm you. “Aha, but I didn’t fall,” he said triumphantly. “I didn’t die.” He winked. “We all know I’m too pretty to die, anyway.”

You didn’t need any more air. No, you needed to knock that smirk off of his face. Air could come later.

“Oh, ho ho, is that what you think? Is that what you think?” You laughed scornfully. “Well, think again, Gaston. Because the only reason you’re alive now is because of me. If it hadn’t been for me, you would’ve fallen to your death!”

He rolled his eyes, which only added to your frustration. “Oh, please, I could’ve jumped to safety if you hadn’t barreled into me.”

His inability to comprehend just how close he’d been to dying snapped something deep inside of you. All of the hot rage you’d felt before froze into icy wrath. You took a step towards him, your eyes boring into his. A flicker of worry crossed his face, but then—

THOCK!

The feeling of your fist against his face felt good, wonderful, even. The expression on his face when he realized he’d just been punched was even better. He reached up to feel his cheek and winced as his fingers brushed against the already-swelling red splotch.

“If I hadn’t been there, or if I’d hesitated for even a fraction of a second, you would’ve died,” you hissed. “Believe me. I know.” The finality of your words struck something in him—you saw it in his green eyes. You allowed him to meet your glare just long enough to make him uncomfortable, and then you spun around and walked away, kicking the door shut without saying anything else.

You stalked past Belle and Adam (who was carrying several giant books) in a hallway on your way to your bedroom. They must have noticed that something was off, because Belle asked, “Is everything alright, (Y/N)?”

You ignored her, which probably confirmed that no, everything was not alright. She called your name again, and you heard Adam start to speak, but they both stopped (likely because they could sense that you were in no mood to talk right now). Then you were out of sight of them, and you reached the door of your bedroom. You shoved it open, kicked it shut, and jumped onto the bed, burying yourself in sobs and pillows.

Next Chapter

#second chance #gaston #gaston x reader #kate writes #beauty and the beast #batb #gaston imagine

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