#-me returning covered in blood after having talked for two hours with 3 different family members- | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

knullanon · 3 years

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how the symbiotes stole you from one another #3

this took 5 hours in total yay

words: 4627

warnings: manipulation, kidnapping, dads being assholes, lmk if I missed any!

Routines in the area where Knull had dropped you off were almost nonexistent. The only reason why you woke up at all was because of the fact that it was already something you did before you got here.

Here, as in this place where Knull seemingly… owned? It was weird. He didn’t just own the land, either, he owned the symbiotes, and by that, Knull, whenever he wanted to talk to you, would just go inside one of their minds, take over, and talk to you. He had done this one multiple occasions, with him always being an asshole about everything. From trying to stop you from going outside, to bitching about your old life, and how you must be enjoying this one. It was really annoying to have to deal with him every damn day, and it was starting to become borderline creepy.

He wouldn’t care about your privacy, only how you were holding up. Literally nothing could stop him from entering your room. He removed the lock when you first got there, and then just left you. Nothing to do besides clean, fuck around, and be bored to death. The only thing you could really do otherwise bsides talk to that asshole, is just try and find something to look at.

So far, you’ve been able to tell that the previous owners of the land were evicted: probably by force by the numerous blood stains all over the place, hiding under whatever Knull didn’t want to clean. Another thing you noticed was that the area you were in used to be covered with trees, but they seemed to be all cut down recently. They smelt fresh and didn’t have any dirt or grime on the stumps. You had to assume it was a safety precaution. For him, at least.

It didn’t take long for you to start snooping around and finding different things, like a hidden diary, all written in russian, an old art kit, and a calendar dated to that year. These items, and their good conditions they were found in, only solidifies your theory that Knull just found a random property and killed the people living there. It also solidified the fact that Knull really didn’t know you existed until that night. Or, morning. Whatever time you were at the gas station. You were able to tell how long you had been taken. 2 weeks just tonight.

It was annoying the hell out of you how long staying with these assholes would seem. Two months with Eddie and venom, and then 3 months with carnage and cletus.

And now 2 weeks with this asshole, probably more. You really wanted out of this damn place. Actually, you wanted out of this weird game they had. Whoever got you first got to keep you until someone else came along. And tried to do the same thing.

As you grabbed some random clothes, and walked into the bathroom, you tried to remember before everything had happened. Before you decided to walk back home alone, like an idiot. That's what you were, wasn’t it? A fucking idiot for thinking it was a good idea. You really thought that nothing would happen, would it? And now this.

Shoving open the bathroom door, you almost didn’t see the 7 foot tall symbiote sitting in the chair across from the bed. This one was known for having a more emo look to them. With being dark blue and with little streaks of even darker red, they were always quiet and silent when you saw them. They were usually the ones to bring you food, guard the house you were in. They were also the one that Knull preferred to get into when he decided to speak to you.

The symbiote themselves were rumble, and he was… actually quite pleasant. It seemed Knull had let this batch keep their personalities, maybe at the price of kneeling before him. You didn’t know.

What you did know was that Knull was now controlling Rumble through whatever bullshit he did to be this powerful. Rumble, or, Knull technically, was reading an old newspaper dated a few months ago. It was from somewhere in Idaho, where you would assume you were located. Yes, Eddie lived in San Francisco, but when carnage took you wherever the hell he took you, and then Knull, well, it was confusing to say the least.

Anyways, the one good thing about Knull was that he really didn’t care what you thought of the place, as he said it, “a temporary arrangement on both our parties''. Pretentious bitch.

Knull put down the newspaper, and gave a smile, before gesturing with his arm to the bed you had just made. “Ah, _____, sit. Let's talk shall we?”

You didn’t want to talk to him, or even look at him, but you followed his command anyway. You tossed your clothes into an old bucket that you had placed in the corner of the room and walked towards the bed, before sitting on it. Knull smiled again with that weird mouth. Rumble never smiled, so of course it would look weird when he did. Of course, not of his own will, but still.

“So, how have you been liking your new enclosure?” Did- Did he just-

You brushed it off, not wanting to anger him. “It’s… fine. Every home comes with its ups and downs.” you hoped he would get the message about calling a home an enclosure. It makes you feel like a pet rather than a person. If Knull noticed your wording, then he ignored it. Instead, he picked up the newspaper again, saying, “Good, good. I’m glad you could understand the circumstances of your predicament.”

You tried hard not to roll your eyes, remembering what Carnage or Venom would say- even now, if you had no idea where they were, their words and opinions still sat with you months later. Instead, you nodded your head to his words, and sat in silence waiting for him to say anything else. Knull did not say anything for a few minutes. Long, agonizing minutes. It reminded you of being with Eddie and Venom, those two assholes. When they were working, they required the utmost silence otherwise they couldn’t focus. They never got mad at you, but they would always try to put you up to something, like reading. Which is why you would read all their books on crime rates, detectives, natural disasters, anything to pass the time while they were working.

It got you entertained for the most part. Sitting in a room with nothing to do, for 2 months was more difficult than you ever thought it would be.

“Are you thinking of your previous hosts and their accommodations?”

Knull pulled you from your thoughts, and even though he was reading the newspaper, you were able to tell he wanted an answer. You shifted from your spot at the edge of the bed, before answering with, “U-Uh, yeah, I am.”

“Hmm.”

He continued to read for a moment, before he pulled the newspaper down a little to view you. “Are you not tired of them?”

“What do you mean?”

This time, he put the newspaper in his lap. “Venom and Eddie. Carnage and Cletus. How have they treated you in the few months you’ve known them?”

You had to sit there and think for a moment, wondering where this conversation was going. What was he trying to do this time?

“Well, venom and Eddie were… constricting. I never had anything to do. Besides reading the books on the shelf, but even then I had to do that discreetly. They didn’t like me doing those things. Or, rather, reading those things. They said it was too… graphic.”

“Ah, I see.” he acknowledged, picking up the newspaper again. “And Carnage and Cletus? How was their company?”

You really wanted to hide in a hole now. “They were… fine.”

“Were they, though?”

You wondered if it would just be worth it to tell everything: how you felt about Eddie, how you felt about Cletus, and how you felt about this asshole doing the same thing the rest of them had done.

“...No, they weren’t.”

He gave a small smile, before he asked, “Oh? Please do tell me more.”

You knew what he was doing, what he was playing at, and yet, you fell right for it. “They would tell me… they would say that no one was going to come for me. No one cared. Not my family, not Eddie, no one. Only them.”

He nodded along, and when he realized you were done venting, he said, “well, aren’t you glad that you’re with me now?”

Turning to face him, you gave him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“Think about it. With one of them, they gave you limited resources to entertain yourself, and the other made you feel like nothing. With me, I give you free reign to do whatever you please. You may ask for whatever you wish, visit whoever you choose, as long as you plead your loyalty to me.”

You stared at him, before you turned your back towards him, mumbling, “Liar.”

He chuckled, and you heard the newspaper crinkle. “I’m not making any jokes. Pledge our loyalty, and you will receive anything you would ever want.”

“Would that include being let go to see my family again?”

“Yes, actually. You would just have to come back when you were done with your visits.”

That caught your attention. He would let you go back? Really? He did say you would go back to him when you were done with your “visits”... but still, better than what the other two were offering.

You thought for a moment before the doubts started to kick in. How do we know he won’t betray you when you do pledge your loyalty to him? How do we know he won’t just keep you here forever? What ounce of trust should we put in him when everyone has kicked us when we were already down?

Almost as if he heard your thoughts, Knull said, “I will give you time for your answer. After all, I have years and years to spare.”

With that he folded the newspaper, setting it down gently, before you saw something spark in his eyes and Rumble returned to his own mind. He sat there unmoving for a few moments, before he sat up and looked at you. “I assume he just wanted to talk?”

You sighed, feeling tired only at 7 in the morning already. “Yes, Rumble, that’s all he came here for.”

He gave a hum of acknowledgment before he got up and walked to the exit to the room. Before he left, however, he said, “Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Before you could say anything, he left you to watch the door again, just before you could ask him to stop calling the home an enclosure, he shut the door softly. You were about to say something, but decided it was not worth it, so instead, you opted to just continue on with what you had to do throughout the day.

~~~~~~~~~

As Rumble looked on as you would clean and dry out clothes on line and leave them for the hot summer day to dry, hopefully by the end of the day, you had mumbled out when first getting out the big hamper. Next to it, you had a couple pieces of clothing sitting in another basket covered by water and soap. Currently, you were wringing out all of the water from a white top, trying to not stretch it out.

Rumble grumble out something, before he heard him in his head:

“Rumble, I would assume you would have the decency to not talk badly about my daughter behind her back.”

Rumble froze up before he quickly set his posture more straightened as he watched you put the shirt on the line, before going to grab another piece of clothing. “No, Lord Knull, I was just noting the… strange enclosure you had chosen for her.”

He heard Knull chuckle, before responding with, “Oh, Rumble, you should know my plan by now.”

Rumble sent a wave of confusion to Knull, indicating that no, he had no idea what his plan was.

Knull simply sighed, before he continued. “I have had plans to bring her to Klyntar, our homeworld, and yet, I have a feeling she will not be able to live there. For a while, I thought I would only be able to visit her through the symbiotes already on earth, or just get there myself, with obvious consequences. However, I’ve found a third option. There is a way to bring her here without having to worry for her safety.”

Suddenly, Rumble received a vision, or more specifically, a live feed of what Knull was looking at. It looked like a symbiote, and yet, it was… odd. It did not have a mind of its own, it's like it was waiting to be filled by something. And this one did not need a host, either. From Knull’s own memories, it seemed he created this one to rely solely on its own, however, for the need to do normal things, it needed someone to fill its mind. Rumble suddenly realized where this was going.

“Lord Knull, you aren’t saying-”

“Yes, I’m saying exactly what you are thinking of.”

Rumble saw Knull walk up to the symbiote, and stroke it with his claw. It did not respond. “This symbiote that I have created will need a mind, someone who has already been born, only their mind. I am planning on giving it to ______ and then letting her rest there, before taking away her body and giving her mind to.... Well, I have not named this one. Maybe I will name it… _______. After her.”

~~~~~~~

You laid the last shirt in the bucket, and when you tried to grab another and felt that there were no more, you sighed and grabbed the dirty water, and poured it out on the grass, not caring if the soap would kill the already dead plants. Then you put the hamper and the bucket on top of each other and carried it back into the house. When you reached the sink, you put the buckets in the sink and turned the tap: only for nothing to come out.

“Do not be surprised if the water runs out: this was called a temporary enclosure for a reason.”

Fucking hell. You got the hamper out and when you saw that it was relatively clean, you let it go, but the dirty water one…

Yeah, you had to clean this before the next laundry day.

It did not help that there were dishes that needed to be washed. You sighed and left the bucket on the counter, and you were about to walk back up to your room, when you had an idea. You walked outside and saw Rumble standing near a cut down tree, waiting for something. Walking up to him, you said, “Hey, Rumble, is there another water source around here?”

He gave you a look, before he said, “Yes, there is one, why must you use it? We will be moving next week to a new location.”

“Well, if it's gonna take a week, I hope you have some form of water to bring up here for the dishes, or showers, or clothes, or-”

“Alright, alright I get it.” he stalked over to you and looked towards another symbiote, probably trying to talk to them before the other symbiote simply nodded and walked to another part of the property.

“I will take you to a river, but after that, the others will gather the water for you, am I clear?”

You nodded. “Good, lets go.”

~~~~~~

Anti-venom stood at the clearing, looking at the decomposing bodies, just two women and two men. He could tell they had been there for more than a week, but not enough for them to completely decompose.

Anti-venom looked around before he tried to smell where they were from. Unfortunately, whoever dumped their bodies was smart in how they covered up the scent. There was almost nothing out here, and with the fact that someone covered up their scent made it more unnerving.

He didn’t try to think of how they died, only giving them his wishes before he started to walk away. Just a couple meters away was a little river that he knew expanded as you went up the stream. He walked over and saw nothing of old blood on the rocks, so they must’ve died somewhere else-

What was that?

He whirled his head towards the start of the river, upwards maybe by a few miles. Even out here, the stench of Knull and his underdogs were there. He growled, remembering how Knull used them for his own gain. He quickly theorized that for some reason, Knull was here and he had killed these people- but why? What would make him do this?

Anti-venom decided to find out on his own, as he started to sprint his way up the river.

~~~~~~

“Why did Lord Knull choose you, anyway?”

“Choose me as what?”

You were currently at the river, cleaning out the dishes in the bucket, and then rinsing them off. Rumble was nearby, sitting in his own little area, and he was also bored. He wanted to know things that Knull would not tell him: would not tell anyone, to be more precise.

You looked back at him, before you turned back to the dishes. “I don’t question it anymore. I never had a choice, I was just… chosen. It’s something I’ve had to get used to for the past months, and even now I don’t have anything to do, anything to say.”

Rumble quirked an eye. “But Lord Knull gave you a choice, did he not?”

“Oh, yeah, please tell me, what did he give me a choice on?”

“On being free to do as you please.”

You stopped washing the little plate you had, and you turned back to face him. “What?”

“He gave you a choice. You could swear loyalty to him, or-”

“Ok, enough with the loyalty bullshit, I’m tired of hearing it.” You had gone back to the dishes, scrubbing furiously at the plate. “I get it, it's a better option than Carnage or Venom, but could I at least have the option of never seeing you fucks ever again?”

Rumble did not say anything more, letting you get out your anger by scrubbing the dishes that were left, and tossing them into the bucket.

When you were finally done, you tried to pick up the bucket, but all of that scrubbing and cleaning made your arms sore. Rumble decided to restore his reputation with you by getting the bucket for you. You didn’t complain, as your arms were extremely sore from your anger washing.

The walk back to the property was peaceful. You weren’t angry at Rumble: to be honest, he was a sweetheart. He would help you out with so many things it was almost unbelievable. He was much more pleasant to be around than Knull, that was for sure.

Even if he had to call Knull “Lord Knull” each time you met, it was fine. The little trail that you two took was getting more smoother as you got closer and closer to the property. When you reached the clearing, you saw the normal sight:

5 symbiotes around the area stalking, waiting. They were most likely on guard, and even then, they had their eyes on you, making sure there was no funny business between you and Rumble.

Walking up to the one story house, you felt… wrong. Of course, this had always felt wrong, but this time it was like someone was watching you from afar. Before you got onto the porch, you turned to look at all the symbiotes watching you. Nothing unusual, the normal amount that would stand guard in this area. Maybe one of them is looking too long, you thought, as Rumble opened the door for you and you both went inside.

Unfortunately, no one noticed the speck of white in the bushes, hiding. Waiting.

~~~~~~~

It was almost time for you to start getting ready for bed. You already had dinner, and now all you needed was just a nice warm bed. You sighed as you made sure everything was in its place, before you walked back in the hallway and into your room. You got out your favorite pair of pajamas, and started to change. You already had a shower last night, it wouldn’t matter if you had one today.

As you changed, your mind went back to the conversation with Knull earlier that day. Would he really let you do whatever you wanted if you just… spared your loyalty, as he called it? Could you see your family and friends again? Could you tell them you were ok and not harmed?

But, he did say that you couldn’t stay there… you would have to go back with him… where did he live, anyway? He was an alien god, so… space? But… where?

Maybe he lived on some random planet and acquired a bunch of power, you had no idea-

“YOU WOULD ALL DARE TO HELP KNULL AND HIS PLANS?!”

That didn’t sound good. You rushed out of your room, pajamas halfway on, and peeked outside of the kitchen window, where you saw everything.

In the middle of the clearing, stood tall and bloody, was another symbiote. He was white with some black accents here and there, and most importantly, he was holding fire.

You already knew that symbiotes didn’t like heat, or fire. Especially not fire.

You remember one time when you tried to escape Eddie with fire. It did not work out well. You were locked in a closet, and fortunately for you, that was where you stored your books.

Anyways, you had no time to think of those times, when you were running from whatever the fuck is going on outside the house. You ran back to your room to put on a shirt, and when you were finished putting on your socks, running was heard from the hallway.

Rumble came through the door and dragged you by your forearm down towards a specific spot in the floor. He then lifted a larger floorboard that revealed a crawl space. He shoved you in, gently as possible, before he said, “Stay. Here. I’ll come for you when I beat him.”

“Who?” You were about to ask, but he slammed the door shut, leaving you to fear for the next few minutes.

You sat there for a few more minutes, before you heard crackling. Crackling of fire. You were desperately trying to open the door, but it seemed to be glued shut: there was nothing that could open it.

At this point, you were starting to cry. The symbiotes couldn’t stand fire, how would they stand this? You were desperate to leave, to escape: you never wanted to be here, with these people who thought they could help you. You wanted to go home, to see your family, friends, the people who loved and cherished you, and actually respected your boundaries.

The door was broken inwards and you felt every muscle in your body stop. You crouched a little from the trap door, hoping they didn’t hear you. From they're desperate steps and quick feet, it was obviously not Rumble or any other symbiote you knew.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the steps went into the hallway. As they walked by, slower, you held your breath. If they found you… well, you knew what happened when new symbiotes would find you.

You let out a silent sigh when they passed the door… only for them to come rushing back. Without even knowing it, they ripped open the trap door, revealing you, tired, scared, and cold.

The symbiote you saw was the exact one that was outside, who was attacking all the other symbiotes.

He looked shocked, as if he didn’t know you were there. “Child…” he asked, as he reached down to try and grab you, “what are you doing in a place like this?”

He picked you up with the utmost gentleness and care, like you would shatter if he just yanked you out. He cradled you within his arms, like you were a baby. He was a giant compared to you, being almost 7 or 8 feet tall.

“Where are your parents?” he asked, taking you with him, walking out of the house. You tried to crawl out of his palm, but he stopped you each time. “I-I don't know.”

He tried to give you a sympathetic look. “Oh, my sweet dear, don’t be afraid. I will k-”

He suddenly jumped into the fire, and you screamed expecting to be burnt along with all the weeds.

However, you didn’t feel anything. Turns out this was because the symbiote had taken you up into the air, so while he was holding you by your waist, he was also holding you out of the reach of the fire. He held his hand up high, not only to make sure that you wouldn’t be hurt, but as you saw Rumble on the ground, close to the fire, you realized it was to get you out of his grip.

“Rumble. You used to be such an open minded symbiote. Now look at you. You are just leeching off of Lord Knull, the one who enslaves you and the rest of our kind!”

The white symbiotes seemingly noticed you again, and said, “and you have the audacity to bring an innocent child into this mess! How dare you!”

With that, he started to walk into the fire, which surprisingly was not burning him. He still held you up high so you wouldn’t be burnt by the flames, which was nice. You looked back at Rumble, who was trying to get up, but the injuries on his legs seemed severe. The fire was closing in on him as well.

You felt bad for him. You reached out, but before you could do anything, Anti venom started to sprint away from the house. The last thing you saw of Rumble was him collapsing onto the ground, broken and beaten.

When you were out of the fire, the symbiote lowered you to his eye level. “My name is Anti-Venom, tiny child. What is yours?”

BONUS:

Rumble sat on the remains of the house: nothing was left of it when Lord Knull appeared. It was a miracle he had even gotten the distress alert, a bigger one he had arrived in time to save rumble himself. Every other symbiote was gone, either from the fire or the white symbiote. Anti-Venom was his name.

“So, you failed at getting back _____ for me?”

“... Lord Knull, I am deeply sorry, but-”

“I don’t want to hear excuses, Rumble, I want to see my daughter! I want to seeher before the other two get her, or worse she falls for that idiotic Anti-Venom, do you hear me?!”

Rumble sat there waiting for Lord Knull to be done with his rant, before he said, “Yes, Lord Knull. I understand.”

Lord Knull stood up and started to walk away. “Good. I will try to locate her myself. In the meantime, find out everything you can about this Anti-Venom. I want his secrets, every dirty little thing about him, do you understand?”

“Yes, Lord Knull, it will be done.”

And with that, Lord Knull was gone, leaving Rumble to dwell in his own failures.

--------

almost forgot, @anxiousnerdwritings this was for u

#yandere knull #yandere cletus kasady #yandere carnage #yandere eddie brock #yandere venom #yandere anti-venom #yandere marvel #yandere marvel comics

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ecoamerica · 23 days

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smutbymia · 4 years

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classmate jeno x reader with enemies to lovers please 🥺

There were a million and one reasons why you couldn’t stand Jeno:

1. he’s an asshole

2. he’s the student body president for the second year in a row (you lost twice)

3. he’s a popular rich kid

4. he’s smart, athletic, AND good looking (I mean seriously... who is that lucky?)

Just to list a few.

You went to school together all your lives and it somehow felt like each year he got more and more irritating. This year is your last year and you promised yourself you wouldn’t let whatever ridiculous rivalry you and Jeno had ruin it. And so far you had done a good job of keeping that promise until this very moment.

School had ended for the day, marking the completion of the first week of your senior year. You were reaching for a pen that dangled from a string next to a sign up sheet when you felt the warm skin of another hand brush against yours. You raised your head planning to mutter a quick apology to the person until you locked eyes with that bastard Jeno. The soft expression on your face immediately went icy as did his.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you spat at him, the pen lingering in your hand. Jeno plucked it from between your fingers and wrote his name on the sign up sheet. Your eyes went wide and he dropped the pen, letting it hang from its string once more before turning to you and stepping forward.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he towered over you with his height.

You groaned, stomping your feet before whining “You’re already president, why do you have to join yearbook too?”

Jeno rolled his eyes, “Because I need more clubs for my college application.”

Your eyes shot daggers into his. You picked up the dangling pen and scribbled your name under his on the list before turning on your heels and walking into the open classroom next to you. You emerged from the room an hour later, expressionless. You pinched yourself, hoping that today was just an awful nightmare. Person after person left the room, walking past you until the hall went quiet with the exception of a few voices that lingered further down the school hall as people slowly made their way out.

Things had gotten just slightly worse. When choosing the president for the Yearbook club, you and Jeno ended up in a deadlocked vote -- thus encouraging Mr. Park, the faculty member in charge to come up with the brilliant idea of electing you both to share the presidency. As if it wasn’t bad enough that you had to be in the same club. Now the two of you would be spending basically the entire year together working on such an important project.

“Im not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me, I’m not going to let him ruin me,” you repeated to yourself quietly as you slowly walked towards the nearest exit, in what felt like a daze.

“That is quite the mantra,” teased Jeno. He had left the classroom last after talking with Mr. Park and caught up to you at some point. You jumped at the sound of his voice.

“What do you want now?” you groaned.

Jeno stepped in front of you blocking your path.

“Does it look like I want to be president with you? I’m being mature about it because it’s what everyone else wanted so you should stop acting like such a brat,” he spat.

“You’re calling ME a brat? How ironic,” you scoffed, “You’re already in a ton of different clubs and hold multiple presidencies. What else could you possibly need for your college application? You could even buy your way in if you wanted to.”

Jeno froze at your final sentence. You continued the assault of words. “You know what your problem is? You can’t stand to lose,” you said, standing toe to toe with him. Jeno chuckled under his breath before bending slightly so that his face was hovering over your face.

“You know what your problem is, princess? You’re okay with losing unless it’s to me,” he began, “You may still be royalty but that doesn’t mean you are anywhere near as powerful as I am,” he said as he straightened himself back up, walking backwards as he spoke. He tapped on one of the series of pins fastened to his school uniform jacket and you dropped your gaze to see what he was gesturing to -- it was a golden line drawing of a king’s crown. You locked eyes one last time before he turned around and stormed out of the school, leaving you standing alone in the empty corridor, blood rushing through your body with your fists balled up at your sides.

That night you returned home, diving right into your study routine and getting an early start on some assignments to distract yourself from the awful day you were having. You had just gotten comfortable in bed when your phone buzzed with new notifications. You leaned over to squint at the bright screen.

JENO: It’s Jeno

JENO: School tomorrow. 5:30pm.

You groaned before reaching for the device to type out a reply.

Y/N: How did you get my number?

JENO: I’m the student body president. I can do anything I want.

JENO: Just be there we have work to do.

You rolled your eyes at his response before locking your phone and drifting off to bed.

The next day flew by the way Saturday’s typically did. You had breakfast with your family before heading out for a jog and coming home to do some workouts on youtube in your bedroom before taking some time to study and do some yearbook club work. When that evening finally rolled around you threw on some black biker shorts and a comfy oversized black graphic tee with some rock bands logo printed on the front before putting your hair up into a bun.

Your school uniform was very preppy looking and you had to keep up appearances so every other part of your appearance had to be up to the same standard everyday. This resulted in you dressing quite “girly” so you enjoyed being able to dress down on the weekends when you weren’t out socializing.

Once you were done getting ready you made your way over to the school. According to Jeno, he had both keys and permission for the both of you to get some work done despite it being a Saturday. A security guard was parked outside by the gates when you arrived and you held up your yearbook club pass before he gave you a quick nod then immediately returned to watching some sports game on his phone screen and eating a sandwich.

When you finally entered the school and got to the Yearbook/Media club lounge, you found Jeno leaning back in a computer chair as he clicked away at the mouse with his eyes glued to the monitor. He didn’t hear you when you entered because of the headphones he had covering his ears. He was dressed down too. He sported grey sweatpants, and a white t-shirt and his black hair looked slightly damp as the strands clumped together slightly and rested against his forehead. He nodded his head to music, and tapped his free fingers against the desk he was seated at.

When you stepped further into the room he spun in his chair to face you. Jeno’s eyes scanned the entirety of your body before he slipped the headphones down to his neck and spoke.

“I almost didn’t recognize you without your preppy headband, all that makeup, and those stupid earrings you always wear,” he muttered.

Okay, low blow. The downside to wearing school uniforms is that you lose a lot of your individuality, and the school rules limit what you can and cannot wear. In fact, students had to fight for the right to accessorize until the ban was lifted. You personally enjoyed wearing tons of different earrings from hoops, to waterfalls and of course you felt a nice headband would draw together your academia look. Both were your signatures and makeup was just a given at such a fancy school.

“I’d insult you back but honestly you look a lot less annoying when you’re not wearing that preppy uniform jacket filled with pins and patches,” you snapped back.

“Whatever, I never said it was meant to be an insult,” he mumbled before gesturing for you to come look at his computer screen.

“I’ve been working on the first draft for the welcome week pages. I think we should follow this layout and theme for the rest of the yearbook. I’m submitting it to Mr. Park,” said Jeno.

You looked over the screen as Jeno waited for your feedback. “I like my version better,” you said after a few minutes.

“Your version? Let’s see it then,” he urged. You took a USB keychain that hung with the rest of your keys out of your bag and connected it to the computer before leaning over Jeno and pulling up the file. He shifted his chair backwards to give you room, and sat back as he admired you from behind. It wasn’t until you spoke to him again that you realized what he was doing.

“How does it look?” you asked as the document loaded onto the screen.

“Real good...” he said as his voice dropped an octave. You turned your head to face him, catching him with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth and his eyes still set on your backside before he drew them up to meet your gaze and flashing you a cheeky smile that turned his eyes into crescent moons.

“Stop being a perv and come look,” you said sternly as you changed your position, lowering yourself to your knees by the monitor. Jeno scooted his chair forward again before looking up at your work. Within seconds he had a series of critical comments spilling from his mouth thus triggering a heated argument between the two of you.

“You know what? I’m tired of going back and forth with you. Let’s just send both to Mr. Park and see which one he likes best,” he challenged. You were both on your feet now and standing toe to toe like you did yesterday during your face off.

“Fine,” you accepted. Jeno sent the files off and the two of you drifted off into other work. You were both working in the dark room, developing some film, when you heard the faint sound of an email notification ring out from the monitor in the room next door. You and Jeno immediately looked at each other before frantically wrapping up your work and rushing to the computer.

The two of you were huddled closely by the screen when Jeno clicked on the email to reveal its contents. You both silently read the screen before you were overcome with disappointment

Mr. Park: Hey President’s. Both look great and would work perfectly with this years Yearbook but if you want my personal opinion, I think I’m leaning more towards Jeno’s! Great work so far and kudos for being so productive on a Saturday! Reach out if you need anything.

You groaned as you stood back up. Jeno chuckled next to you.

“Congratulations, you win again,” you snapped at him. He was so caught off guard by your tone that his smile fell from his face immediately and was quickly replaced by a smug expression.

“Is that all that matters to you?” he asked raising his voice, “winning?”

You were toe to toe for the third time now and it was really starting to get on your nerves because Jeno was built and tall and something about him looking down on you made this stupid position even more annoying for you.

“One thing! You couldn’t just let me have this one thing!” you yelled back.

“Oh... my... GOD. You are unbearable!” Jeno groaned as he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“You want to know why I couldn’t let you have this one thing?” he started, leaning down closer to your face. He was inches from you now and his breath danced across your lips when he spoke.

“Because... you’re such a fucking brat. Every time you whine and complain all I can think about is filling up this pretty mouth so I don’t have to hear your voice anymore,” he said through gritted teeth, reaching his hand up to your chin.

“And your face... the look on your face every time i beat you at something or take something away from you... the way your eyes get big and teary, and the way you pout your lips like you’re doing right now” he continued, running his index finger across your bottom lip.

“Nothing turns me on more than taming you like this,” he whispered. Your body shivered under his touch. You were fuming on the inside at his words. They hurt. Yet you were also feeling things you had never felt before. Your eyes scanned Jeno’s face, along his lips and eyes and his jawline. Your nipples hardened underneath the cotton material of your shirt. Jeno noticed. You fought back tears of frustration as one slipped down your cheek, cursing yourself for being so turned on at a moment like this.

“Don’t cry, baby girl,” Jeno muttered as he took his free hand to wipe away at the tear as his other hand cradled your cheek. Your hands were balled into fists at your sides and you stood frozen in your spot.

“You’ve been so worried about me ruining you, but maybe that’s exactly what you need to get rid of that attitude...hmm?” he murmured.

“I-I hate you,” you sputtered out, sounding more whiney than angry. Jeno let out a breath of air as the corner of his mouth turned up into a brief smile. He stepped closer to you and you stepped back until you were trapped against a table.

“Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled as he hovered his lips dangerously close to yours, eyes searching yours for any sign of resistance. You broke eye contact with him as your gaze settled on his lips. You subconsciously licked your own as you blinked away the remainder of the dampness in your eyes.

You didn’t notice the way you gravitated towards his lips like a magnet until he leaned away from you slightly and your lips chased after his -- not letting the distance grow too much. Your eyes were still glued to his lips which had formed into a smug grin when you noticed how you had chased after his lips like a needy girl just as you felt the first wave of heat rush to your face.

“Just as I thought...” he muttered as one of his hands dropped to your waist and you felt him tighten his grip ever so slightly. Jeno ran his hand down the side of your body, trailing his fingers along your thighs before running his hands back up again -- this time gripping the bare skin of your waist underneath your graphic tee.

You sucked in air when his warm hands came in contact with your skin. His eyes were glued to your face and his expression showed a slight hint of darkness. Jeno gripped your waist with both hands firmly before suddenly lifting you off the floor to sit on the edge of the table you had been trapped against.

You let out a gasp as your butt landed on the cool surface, leaving you seated with Jeno standing between your legs. He bridged the gap between you by stepping closer and pulling you by your hips -- until every part of you was pressed against him. Your hands flew up to his chest to stop you from literally crashing into his chiseled torso.

You accidentally let out a breathy moan when your crotches met -- feeling Jeno pressed against your center, leaving only the thin material of your biker shorts and your undies between your bodies. Jeno bit his bottom lip in response and rolled his lips once more, making you whimper and sending your hands sliding from his chest down to his waist. You hesitated but your hand placement was a dead giveaway that you wanted more friction. Jeno pulled at your hips one more time as he met your center with another stroke. You felt wetness begin to pool between your legs and tightened your grip on his waist. This time it was you who pulled him forward but he froze just before your bodies could properly connect again as you desperately tried to rut yourself against him.

“Look at me,” he ordered. Your gaze immediately locked with his, eyes wide and lips pouted, a bit frustrated that he had stopped moving.

“Good girl... Didn’t think you’d listen to me so well the first time,” he said, rewarding you with another roll of his hips. You groaned at the contact.

“F-first time?” you question, rolling your hips to meet his as his breathing became more unstable.

“It’s gonna be a long year, baby,” he started, “We have to work together, so it’s my responsibility to calm you down when you get all bratty.”

There was something really sexy about the way you both managed to continuously grind against each other in pure ecstasy while having a full blown conversation, speaking between moans and grunts.

“I’m n-not a brat, you’re just an asshole,” you snapped as you crossed your legs at your ankles, pulling him against you even harder.

Jeno cursed under his breath at the friction as his hands reached down to grip at your ass before mumbling, “only person who thinks i’m an asshole is you,” he taunted, “you on the other hand are widely known for acting like a complete...”

You interrupted him with another roll of your hips, as a groan slipped from his lips. “Choose your next words carefully, Jeno,” you warned.

he chuckled before finishing his almost forgotten sentence, “princess... that’s what you’re known for. For acting like such a fucking princess,” he groaned.

Jeno wasn’t entirely wrong. You did strive for excellence when it came to your common interests in academics and extracurriculars. In fact, a pet peeve of yours was the fact that you and Jeno were always compared to each other, with most of the school being shocked that two people who were so alike seemed to always be at war with each other. In everyone else's eyes you were both one in the same.

Though you were respected, you weren’t delusional. There were definitely people who weren’t fond of you, but you had chalked it up to mere jealousy that was inevitable for a person who excelled as much as you did to experience. Jeno must have noticed your mind wandering because he lifted your chin slightly to direct your attention back to him muttering a soft “hey...” as he snaked his free hand up your shirt, hands brushing against your bare breast.

You moaned when you felt his fingers tease your sensitive nipple. “Whats wrong with being a princess? People only call me that because they’re jealous,” you questioned. You had definitely begun to soak through your shorts, as you watched a faint wet patch begin to show on Jeno’s joggers. You gripped at the collar of his shirt as he dropped his head down to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses all over the delicate skin.

“F-fuck,” you groaned at the contact, hips jerking.

“Exactly,” jeno said, lifting his head to lock his eyes with you again. “They’re jealous of how powerful you are... but that’s exactly what turns me on,” he confessed.

He ran his hands along your cheek, leaning in to a whisper. “Do you know how hard it makes me when I think about turning the most powerful girl in school into a powerless mess?” Jeno tugged at one of your nipples as he finally drew your mouth into his for a kiss. You whimpered into his mouth, overcome with pleasure.

Jeno deepened the kiss and for once you just allowed him to take control. As much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny that his energy was intoxicating and yes, maybe you were a little bit jealous of him for the same reasons as others were jealous of you.

How could you not be attracted to someone who was as driven and talented and equally, if not even more powerful than you were in that regard. As much as you butt heads there was no doubt that you were very much a good fit for each other-- if all the fighting and competition were set aside, that is. But this didn’t matter right now. All that mattered was the way he was making you feel. It was as if though all those years of tension had finally bubbled over.

Jeno’s tongue swirled against yours sloppily, just the way you liked. Even your bodies seemed to be on the same page. He pulled away from you after a few minutes of making out -- leaving a trail of spit hanging from your lips to his as he lifted you off the table and carried you over to one of the couches in the lounge area of the room.

The sun had already begun to set ages ago, and only the faint hint of the computer screens you had been working on were illuminating the room. Jeno sat on the couch with you straddling his lap as he pulled his shirt over his head. You did the same and soon enough you were both left topless. Jeno wasted no time drawing you towards him and trapping a nipple between his lips as he palmed your other breast. You arched your back into him letting his name spill from your mouth.

He kissed his way back up your chest as he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Mmm.. Need all of this gone,” he said as he pulled at your shorts. You got up from his lap, and he immediately began to peel off the remainder of your clothing, dragging the material down the length of your body.

His breath hitched as he stripped you of your shorts to reveal your white cotton thong. He brushed his fingers softly against the material before mumbling to himself, “cute...”

His fingers ran against your slit, feeling the damp material under his touch and making you grow weak in the legs.

“You’re so wet for me already... Such a good girl,” he said. Hearing words of praise fall from his lips like that made you feel so soft. For some reason, compliments hit different when they came from him. Your eyes drifted to the growing bulge in Jeno’s joggers.

Your mouth fell open with the sudden desire to be filled with as much of him as you could fit as you slowly fell to your knees. Jeno raised his eyebrows while he watched you intently. You tapped your fingers against his knee, “off, please” you said as you pulled at the strings in the waistband of his bottoms.

“Fuck, do you know how good you look on your knees for me?” he said as he lifted his hips to get rid of the rest of his clothing. Your eyes went wide when he finally settled back into his seat and began stroking his length while analyzing your expression.

For once you couldn’t blame him for the arrogant expression on his face. He had every right to be proud of what he was packing.

“Ugh, is every part of you perfect?” you complained as you scooted closer to him. You dragged your fingernails along his thighs as he drew his bottom lip between his teeth again. Your fingers danced dangerously close to his member as he slowed the movement of his hand before letting go of himself.

You wrapped your hand around him, shocked at how much bigger he looked between your fingers. He throbbed and raised his hips slightly, thrusting up into your first. “Needy...” you teased, looking up at him as you giggled softly.

“Y/n” he whimpered, a bit embarrassed at the sounds leaving his mouth now that you had momentarily gained the upper-hand. Jeno watched as you pressed your tongue to the slit of his cock before popping the head right into your mouth and sinking down around his length in one go, bottoming out.

Your lips were wrapped around the very base of his cock when you moaned around him, making your entire mouth vibrate.

“Holy shit,” he moaned loudly as he reached out a hand to draw circles on your cheeks while you worked at his length. You lifted your mouth all the way back, as his hips jerked forward again, fucking into your mouth as another whimper fell from his mouth. Your eyes were locked in his and you couldn’t believe how different he looked. His hard expression had gone soft. You had definitely managed to strip him momentarily of his power.

“So naughty - where’d you learn - to use your mouth like this- huh, princess?” he asked between thrusts. Your eyes watered but you continued to let him use your mouth as you watched him grow more desperate.

You removed him from your mouth with a pop as you pumped at his length fast. Jeno cursed under his breath before letting his head fall back on the couch for a moment.

“Gonna c-cum,” he warned.

“Look at me,” you ordered and Jeno obeyed.

You locked eyes as you delivered the final pumps, and waited with your mouth open and your tongue out as you felt him throb underneath your grip before spurts of his warmth shot up -- spilling onto your tongue and dripping from your lips down your chin. The remainder of his cum had spilled over onto your fingers, and you released him to pop them into your mouth to clean them off.

You were aimlessly licking and sucking at your fingers, caught up in your own world when you noticed Jeno staring at you, chest rising and falling with a surprised expression on his face.

“Hmm?” you hummed as you titled your head, wondering if everything was okay. Jeno, who had just cum harder than he ever had in his life was in pure disbelief at how you sat so calmly and managed to look so sweet and innocent with his cum dripping down your chin as you suckled at your own fingers. The sight alone made him start to grow hard almost instantly.

After a few seconds he snapped out of it, leaning forward and cupping your cheek in his hand like he had been all night.

“D-don’t think I’m letting you win that easily,” he muttered. He motioned for you to get off your knees, and he drew you in for a kiss as he repositioned you both on the couch so he would be on top of you. You seemed to have sparked the competitive fire within him.

Jeno hadn’t expected you to switch on him like that and he was determined to follow through on his promise of ruining you.

He trailed kisses down your body, skipping your pelvic region to drop kisses along your thighs as he peeled off your panties.

“I’m sorry but I won’t be going easy on you... not after what you just did,” he warned as he pushed apart your thighs. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your center and it drove you insane.

Jeno carried out the first lick along the length of your slit and it was enough to have you moaning and immediately roping your hands in his hair. You had been turned on for so long that even the slightest touch felt like heaven.

He flicked his tongue against your entrance, muttering to himself about how great you taste, teasing you as your clit yearned for attention. He worked at your flesh, dipping his tongue in between the folds of your center before prodding at your hole and slipping his tongue inside. You tried to move your hips against his mouth but he firmly held you in place.

“Jeno, p-please,” you pleaded. He smiled against your skin as he continued to dip his tongue into your hole, driving you closer to the edge but still not quite getting you there.

“Whats wrong, princess?” he taunted before running his tongue up the length of your slit, once again avoiding your clit. You whimpered, reaching your hand down to feel yourself before he roped his fingers in yours to stop you. He lightly flicked his tongue against your clit, just enough to send electricity running through your body but still not enough to please you entirely.

“I want to hear you beg for it,” he said as he blew air softly against your center, the sensitivity was overwhelming. He planted a soft kiss directly on top of your clit that would have melted your heart a bit if you weren’t so violently horny at this point. So instead, your hips jerked against the plushy feeling of his pursed lips. Jeno chuckled at your body’s reaction, before repeating the action -- drawing the same result.

After the third peck landed on your clit, and the third jerk of your hips sent you into a frenzy, you simply couldn’t resit any longer.

Tears pooled at the corner of your eyes, and words spilled endlessly from your mouth. “Please, Jeno.. fuck, please let me cum. I’m d-desperate,” you confessed as your hips raised off of the couch, and he pulled away teasingly watching you squirm beneath him.

“How would you like to cum, baby?” he asked.

“I need to feel you inside of me,” you pleaded before adding a soft “please” to the end of your sentence.

You watched Jeno position himself at your entrance before stopping.

“i’m on the pill, we don’t need --,” you assured him, reading his expression.

He groaned straight away, interrupting you before you could finish as his mind drifted to places he was too ashamed to admit. He ran his head along your slit, making you twitch before he entered you with a quick snap of his hips, bottoming out immediately and forcing a scream from your lips.

You weren’t sure what to expect from Jeno but it definitely wasn't this. He angled himself perfectly, propping you up so he was hitting all the right places as he pounded into you relentlessly. Within a single minute you were both racing towards your orgasms.

“I’m close,” he murmured as he planted a kiss to your lips.

“Me too,” you answered, “one last thing...” you said as he continued to thrust into you at a delicious pace.

“Hmm.. what is it, baby?” he asked. You locked eyes with him, feeling quite shy at your next words.

“F-fill me up, please. I want you to cum inside of me, really really badly,” you whimpered and with a final groan at your unexpected demand, you felt Jeno’s warmth spill all over your insides, sending you right over the edge and leaving your insides contracting against him. The two of you remained exactly how you were for awhile.

Jeno was the first to move after catching his breath. He slowly slipped out of you with a breathy moan before lowering himself towards your center and softly licking at your folds even though they were covered in his own cum.

“Shit, i’m sorry... I barely made it to the end of your sentence before letting go,” he chuckled as he lapped at your skin.

“JENO” you shrieked as an unexpected orgasm rushed through you again when he flattened his tongue against your entire slit and you found yourself moving against his mouth in seek of more pleasure. You pushed his head away as you clenched your legs together feeling a mixture of both pleasure and agony run through your body.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry... last one, i promise” he laughed as he moved to your face to plant soft kisses on your cheeks and a peck on your lips. It took you a while to come back from your high.

it was a bit late when you guys had finally cleaned up and locked the school back up. Jeno had driven you home in his new Volvo which he tried to convince you was a totally normal back to school gift, and had texted you for the remainder of the night about things like yearbook, and homework. It almost seemed as though what had happened was merely a dream.

It wasn't until you were back at school on Monday that you realized that going back to normal was going to be impossible. You and Jeno still bickered over Yearbook decisions and didn’t hesitate to challenge each other during class debates but things had changed. Every annoying exchange you had simply fuelled your desire more.

You’d get into intense match ups only to find yourselves coming up with excuses about Yearbook club to sneak out of class for quickies in Jeno’s car. He even had his way with you more times than you could count across his desk in the office he was awarded after becoming student body president. At first it was fun -- your adrenaline would pump at the thought of sneaking around so much but then things slowly started to shift again.

Soon, you would spend afternoons at his freaking massive mansion of a family home where you guys would go over yearbook work. When you didn’t have yearbook work to do, he began inviting you over for study sessions, and to do homework -- all of which would end in amazing sex. Soon those invites extended to regular hangouts for no particular reason but to enjoy each others company and you found yourself drifting away from casual hookups to something that felt heavier -- more serious.

The final nail in the coffin was when Jeno let your little secret slip after getting so worked up in a class discussion. You had been discussing the symbolism of a film you had just watched for an english class when you began to clash.

“Baby, that makes no sense,” he mumbled after you had shared your opinion. He was doodling aimlessly on his notebook. The entire class went wide eyed, and a few gasps were let out.

“Actually, it makes perfect s--” you began before freezing. You had just noticed his mistake, and everyone had noticed yours which was how the pet name didn’t seem to phase you at all. Luckily Mr. Park quickly moved on to another topic as you both sat cursing yourselves silently.

After the final bell rang for the day, you locked eyes with Jeno.

“Idiot,” you mouthed. He offered you a sheepish grin in return as he approached your desk.

“I’m sorry, it slipped,” he began, “but now that every knows..” Jeno, slipped his arm around you as you entered the hallway. Most students minded their business, which you were grateful for while others stared and whispered.

“I have a student body meeting for the next hour... you have debate team right?,” he said as you approached an intersecting series of hallways. You nodded.

“I’ll meet you outside then, and we can go to mine to go over the photographer schedules for this months events,” Jeno said.

“Sounds good,” you responded before turning on your heels to head in the opposite direction. Jeno’s grip on your wrist had him tugging you back towards him.

He stood above you with an annoyed expression on his face, pouting. He pulled your face close to his, mumbling about you being heartless before he planted a lingering kiss on your lips, of course drawing the attention of onlookers. Your cheeks were on fire when he pulled back, leaving you flustered and a bit embarrassed as he shot you a final wink before checking his watch and rushing off to his meeting. You turned around to head to debate club, wondering how exactly your biggest enemy had turned into the sweetest, most caring lover you could have ever asked for.

#tell me your thoughts please😣#wtf i wish i was in this fic #jeno scenarios #jeno smut #jeno imagines #jeno angst #lee jeno #nct jeno #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct au #switch!jeno #nct imagines #nct scnearios #nct fanfiction #NCT Dream Scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream fanfic

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utterlyinevitable · 3 years

Note

Queeeeen, are you taking requests?

If you are, can you please write a fic from Alan's pov where Ethan talks about MC?

(Not in book 3 pls, I want to forget that monstrosity 🤢)

Just Ethan not realising that he's talking about her non-stop and Alan teasing the crap out of him hehe.

(If you have a slightly different idea, go for it!!! Anything and everything you write always has me- 🤩🤩)

Have a great day, queen ❤❤❤❤

After

Pairing: Ethan x F!MC (Becca) Rating: PG-13 Warnings: implied trauma Summary: Alan makes his way to comfort Ethan after hearing about the assassination attempt. Tropes: Hurt/Comfort; 2.11

A/N: Thank you so much for this request! I outlined this piece as part of my 2.11 / Leakage sequel mini series that I never finished. It’s a bit different that what you’re after, but thank you for the motivation 💕💞💕

_______________

Just Two People: I. After.

10 hours. It’s been ten hours since the worst 24 hours of his life. Ten hours since they declared the antidote successful. Ten hours since she was moved to a private room on the Diagnostics wing, ten feet away from the office.

It’s been three hours since he returned to the hospital. Naveen and the rest of the team forced him home, to sleep and eat and change into a fresh pair of clothing that weren’t drenched in stricken sweat. 90 minutes - that’s how long he was gone for. That’s as long as his body and mind and soul would let him be away from her.

Even now, ten feet away and separated by two walls and a corridor seems much too much.

He knew he shouldn’t spend every waking moment at her side, no matter how much his body was willing him to do just that. There was no reason to, not anymore now that she’s cured. He can’t hide under the guise of monitoring her vitals anymore, the nurses have that covered. And anyway, he doesn’t want to fuel the whirling gossip mill any further.

So Ethan Ramsey sits at his desk, alone in the dimming daylight. An untouched glass of water in front of him and his heavy gaze stuck on the back of the caseless iPhone in his hands.

Would it be too much to text her?

It’s been 122 minutes since he last saw her - departed with an “If you need anything, text me” mumbled into her hairline on top of a chaste kiss.

It’s been two hours and two minutes of radio silence.

He’s worried, irrationally so. Shifting in his chair Ethan’s legs begin to jitter, start to lift his body up. But before he could convince herself he’s just going to walk past her room on his way to the restroom, there’s a knock on his ajar door.

“Dad? What’re you doing here?”

“I saw the news,” Alan says with the most sullen expression.

Alan Ramsey looks like he always does, dressed in jeans though his cardigan has been replaced with a ratty old hoodie Ethan’s only ever seen him wear in the house. The young father steps into the darkening office with wrinkles showing years of worry; the slope of his expression feels as if his own flesh and blood were the one on the brink of death mere hours ago.

“I needed to make sure you were alright.”

“You could have called.”

“I did,” a small smile tugs at Alan’s lips. Even in times of hardship his son is still everso the same. “Six times. Left some text messages too.”

The boy hangs his head, deep oceanic eyes darting back to the abandoned phone. “Sorry,” he mutters.

“Don’t be. You’ve had an eventful few days.” Alan moves gingerly and determinedly to perch on the edge of the closest chair in front of his son. “How is she?”

Ethan just shrugs. “Physically, looks like a full recovery. Mentally, too soon to tell. Dr. Hirata has a counselor scheduled to meet with her tomorrow.”

“How are you?”

“I’m…”

From this close Alan could see every flicker of pain Ethan has been harboring. His clear, curious blue eyes were the darkest he’s ever seen them, bordering on limitless midnight if it wasn’t for the faint red surrounding them. There are wrinkles in his pressed shirt and deep circles under his eyes. And the way he sits slumped in his chair and not with the perfect posture he’s been lecturing his father about for the better part of their lives, Alan knew he was right to come. Knew that now was one of those rare times where his son would accept the doting of his single parent.

While Ethan was still searching for the words, Alan rounded the desk to place a hand on his slumped shoulder.

“Ethan, son, you don’t need to hide.”

Easier said than done, Ethan would think on any other day. But not today.

“It was the worst days of my life,” he says it so effortlessly on the breath of a dying man. “I - I thought I lost her, Dad.”

Two sets of the same blue eyes meet, both aged and one much too soon.

“But you didn’t.”

“I know.”

Even now, with the understanding between them too great and effortlessly easy to grab onto, Ethan wouldn't admit to the one truth. Wouldn’t concede to the last argument they had just mere weeks ago. Ethan Ramsey wouldn’t admit it, but he finally knew how and why his dad was holding onto love all this time. If Ethan had lost Rebecca he knew he’d never be open to the notion again. He belonged to her.

Ethan didn’t have to say it for Alan to read the words shouting from his features.

Alan gives Ethan’s shoulder an assuring squeeze. “Have you told her?” he asks with a compassionate smile.

The deep breath Ethan takes and the way his eyes close, then dart to the door on their reopening, has Alan’s heart dropping.

But then, his son surprises him for the umpteenth time.

“Yes.”

The word is small and hoarse, and heavy with something neither man has heard from in a long time.

Alan steps away and lets the feeling linger for a bit. He knows he shouldn’t push or move too fast, knows that if he does he could scare this vulnerable side of his son back into hiding. So they let the hopefulness surround them. They let the light of a new beginning flicker on as Boston settles into evening outside.

When neither of them move to speak, or even move from the stances, Alan decides to take care; “I was planning on making you dinner - What would you prefer?”

Ethan shakes his head, moving to stand. “You don’t have to. You need to get back.”

The two men are as face-to-face as they can get with the younger being nearly a foot taller. Alan can see his son fully now. Can see how his shirt is barely tucked into trousers that don’t match and he’s wearing casual loafers instead of shiny Oxfords.

“Ethan, you look like you’ve been hit by a bus,” Alan tries to laugh the truth off. “And anyway, I took compassionate leave for a few days. Family emergency.”

The words hit Ethan like a bus. If Alan looked closely he could see the tears fighting to emerge in his son’s eyes.

“Dad…”

Ethan’s Adam’s apple is bobbing with all that’s unsaid. The weight of it all pressing onto him in ways he’d never care to imagine. To think, his father frantically drove to Boston at the drop of a hat for a woman he’s met only once - barely even knows.

Alan tries to read around the emotions as best he can. Tells his stoic, unburdensome son the truth, whether he realizes it or not.

“Call it what you want. But if I know anything about my son, it’s that you are completely enamored with that woman and blaming yourself for the situation.”

Alan didn’t know how right he was.

________________________

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liptonsbabe · 3 years

Text

Chains of a family [B.W]

Bill Weasley x Grant! reader

Chapter 1,

Chapter 2,

Chapter 3,

Chapter 4,

Chapter 5,

Chapter 6

Summary: The Weasley family have traditions about marriage and Bill has to respect them if he truly wants the reader become his wife. In the attempt to respect his family wishes the weasleys have to visit reader’s grandparent Tim Grant who has a lot of things to say

Word count: 5K TOO LONG I’M SO SORRY

Warnings: none(?

A/N: Hey! part 6 of this thing. I’m so sorry to update this late but it was a complicated chapter and the longest so far. I’ll try to make small chapters from now on and the wedding is aproching, you guys!! i’m sooo excited to publish that part but we have to wait a little more for that.

So, as i’ve said in the last chapter, i changed some things from de canon like Bill being attacked by Grayback and such. it’s just for the plot of this series ok? hope you don’t mind guys.

Anyways, like always, english not my mother language so pls let me know if somethings wrong. Enjoy!

Chapter 6: Your life is not enough

You needed a couple of weeks to fully recover, even if it meant having Bill on your back every hour and taking you away from your duties with the Order. The mission that Remus Lupin gave you had to wait until further notice, all for William's excessive concern about your wounds

The task of keeping you away was complicated, more so when the Death Eater attacks had gained strength that no one expected. The members of the order spent twenty-four hours a day on watch with no time for breaks, even Bill went three days without sleep until you, still recovering , left the room and dragged him back with you regardless of his constant complaining. Molly supported you in the decision - thank god - telling her son not to worry that the rest of the Order would keep their eyes fully opened and he could rest comfortably next to you

The drastic change in Mrs. Weasley's behavior confused you because there was no reason for it, but the relief helped make your recovery quicker and less painful. The healer who you the morning after the accident with the Death Eaters took too long to close the wound as it was a curse wound and it needed a counter spell to heal properly, but not having one, he used other tactics and Dittany to help it heal. However, the help had come too late, and the scar was a throbbing fact that stung terribly when you made the slightest move. The healer said the burning and discomfort would go away with time, but the redness would stay forever. You thought that would be the last of your problems until you got your first glimpse of the result of the attack.

It was a disastrous thing, but it could have been much worse. You sighed as you looked at your disheveled image in the bathroom mirror. You had just taken a shower and Bill was still dressing in the bedroom. You took off the robe Ginny had given you a night before, watching the scar glisten across the valley of your breasts ending above your ribs. You sighed again, if you didn't consider yourself pretty before, at that moment you felt awful.

A new figure appeared in the reflection accompanied by a bright smile. William wore his white shirt tucked into his pants, his bow tie dangling from his collar and his suspenders placed perfectly flush against his shoulders. You smiled, looking at him through the mirror.

“Getting used to your dazzling new short hair?” You asked as you noticed Bill's nervous hand run over his head for the fifth time after the shower. Bill groaned, burying his face in your neck.

“I hate this style”

“And why did you cut it off, then?”

“Mom made me," he stated, tightening his hands around your waist, "She wants me to make a good impression, and for once I wanted to please her in something”

“Wow, your mom wanting to impress my family? That's new”

“Well, not every day you get to visit Lord Voldemort's brother," you gave him a bad look, smacking his hand, "Too soon for a joke, sorry”

You shook your head, escaping from Bill's embrace putting perfume behind your ear, on your wrists and neck. You gasped when a small drop of perfume touched your wound, reddening it. Your eyes lost in the scar again, knowing that even if your dress managed to cover most of it, the initial edges would be exposed like the body of a worm crawling through your clothes. Bill discovered your discontent. He hugged you again, running his fingertips over your sore skin as he kissed your bare shoulder. Maybe you couldn't see it, but for Bill you were perfect. Not just for the way you looked, but the beautiful heart that, even if he didn't deserve it, you had given him without any qualms. You deserved to be appreciated by the rest of the world, not just by him.

“I love you. You know that, don't you?”

“Even with the scar?”

“With the scar even more. It shows how brave you are and you should be proud of it. You saved Mad-Eye”

“The others will see it”

“It's their problem, not yours. You're still the most beautiful woman in this world.

You smiled, stroking the short hair of the man behind you.

“Not as much as that”

“You're right. I stand corrected. You are the most beautiful woman in both worlds”

“William...”

“I'll help you get dressed," he said, noticing that you were blushing up to your ears. William smiled without understanding why a sweet comment could make you blush, but not the fact that he was looking at you naked from the waist up. He picked up the dress hanging on the dresser reaching over to help it over your head pulling it down gently so as not to hurt you. Then, he zipped up your back leaving a wet kiss on your neck.

Bill's false calm didn't go unnoticed by you. As you smoothed the folds of your dress you noticed the trembling in his hands and the way his feet drummed on the floor. He was playing with the zipper of your dress pulling it up and down, trying to calm his nerves

“Bill, it's not necessary to do this”

“It is!” He replied looking up. You turned to him, crossing your arms around his neck, "I want to respect the traditions, to do things right. I want to show everyone that we mean business. It's just that...”

“My grandfather scares you?”

“What? No” You raised an eyebrow “Okay, maybe a little”

“You don't need to talk to him. He'll understand”

“I want to”

You gave in to Bill's pout. A few days ago, just after he asked you to marry him, Arthur Weasley spoke to his son asking him how he would go about keeping the traditions of the family. Bill didn't seem to understand what he was referring to when his father explained that the Weasleys used to always, always, visit the bride's parents' home right after the engagement to ask for their approval. Offerings were usually brought in a show of respect and the parents in question would respond by offering dinner for the guests. Bill's eyes widened, was that a real tradition?, he didn't know, “why didn't you ever tell me about it!” he questioned his father in a shout. Arthur knew about his son's untimely ignorance, returning the accusation, “Would that have made any difference on your desire to have her as your wife?” Bill didn't have to think too hard. “Of course not!” he shouted and his father laughed, patting him on the shoulder. His son was brave and would have asked for his bride's hand even from Voldemort himself. Bill was lucky tho cause he only had to talk to the old alchemist Tim Grant.

Your grandfather was the only one in the family who seemed to be neutral in the war caused by his brother, but above all he was the person who loved you most as you had both been banished from the Grants for standing up for your own convictions. Maybe Tim wasn’t an active member of either side, however, the blood connection with his brother Tom Riddle sent shivers down the spines of those around him. The man isolated himself in the Galapagos islands dangerously close to a volcano, where he was sure his brother wouldn’t dare to look for him. The Weasleys, hearing the story from your lips didn’t understand why.

You used a portkey to get to your grandfather's house. Arthur had communicated with Tim hours earlier and the two of them managed to establish a connection undetected for the ministry thanks to the old Grant's powerful magic and his skills as an alchemist. You couldn't hide your excitement at seeing your grandfather again, which encouraged Bill's eagerness to formally introduce himself to his next.... grandfather-in-law?

“Well then, but you don't have to worry. Grandpa is a very understanding man”

“Yeah, I'm sure he is”

“Bill Weasley, who knew talking to an old man would make you so nervous?”

“Very funny” he rolled his eyes, gluing his forehead to yours “I just want him to like me, (Y/N)”

“He likes everyone”

“That doesn't make me feel any better.”

“It will when you talk to him and see there's nothing to be afraid of” You stood on your tiptoes cause even with your high heels you couldn't reach his height. You kissed his cheek, snatching a warm smile from him “He's not like the rest of my family”

“I didn't mean to imply that, I'm sorry”

“It's all right, I know you didn't mean it. Now let's go downstairs, your mother must be going crazy”

“As if she wasn't already”

You slapped his arm as you descended the stairs. You didn't want Molly to hear them and relive her recently dissipated discontent with you

The rest of the family were already near the portkey with their arms full of baskets with offerings for your grandpa and the twins carrying some strange ornaments. Bill's sister Ginny greeted you with a smile, handing one of the baskets to her older brother. Molly and Arthur approached their children, both hanging on the opposite arm dressed in their best sunday clothes to make a good impression. You smiled without waiting for Bill's mother to smile back.

After the accident at Little Whinging Molly's rudeness disappeared. Not that she accepted you with open arms, but she stopped making bad comments and avoided looking at you in a bad way. Bill didn't know what Mad-Eye said to his mother that night when he told everyone how you had saved him knowing how much he owed you, but Bill didn't understand the size of the changing till he saw his mother offer you a piece of litchi pie the night after the attack when you were recovering from the wound. It was not that big of a deal really, but it had left you with a permanent smile on your face.

It was Molly herself who had taken the initiative to encourage Bill to fulfill the family tradition. If a Grant was going to come into their home as their son's wife then she should do it the way they knew. Her first piece of advice to her son was cutting his hair to a normal length. Bill was horrified by his mother's words cause he knew she was taking advantage of the moment to make him suffer with his precious mane. He did it anyway, because there wasn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for you

It was a drastic change, but it was worth it. Molly saw your eyes sparkle at the sight of her son so changed, with his hair cut short and his beard shaved. Your fingers danced over his face appreciating the effort Molly, not yet convinced of your influence at home, had made for you. Molly stifled a smile, unaware even to herself, that you were slowly beginning to win her heart.

You touched the shuttle at the same time falling precipitously in the sand and Harry helped you up with a smile. Then you walked straight appearing in front of a huge house that was sheltered by the foothills of the bubbling volcano on the other side of the island. The twins, like the rest of the family, let out an exclamation of astonishment as Ron, harried by the huge spiders hovering in the sand, ran for the door.

The smell of freshly cooked food escaped through the cracks in the door before it was opened. The twins' eyes widened as they recognized the delicious smell of cooked prawns and coconut sauce wafting over their heads. You knocked on the door three times, then stopped and resumed the knocking four more times. The Weasleys watched you, did you have a special code to communicate with each other?

"Come in" You gave way to them closing the door behind you and sealing it with an unknown spell. Bill waited for you at the threshold as his family was already making their way to the table where a very well dressed Tim Grant was waiting for them sitting in the main chair. Bill looked at him from his position, shaking “We still have time to run away” you joked “If you're not ready...”

“I am," he said confidently.

“Okay”

You both walked toward the dining room. Tim was greeting the rest of the family enthusiastically. Bill sighed. At least Tim seemed to get along with his parents, so that was good. They all filled a seat, with Tim occupying the head and Arthur the opposite end; Molly sat on Tim's right side and you sat on Mr. Weasley's right side. The twins, Ron, Harry and Ginny took the middle seats leaving Bill the only vacant spot on Tim's left side. Bill took a breath before taking the seat and receiving a curious look from the man.

“Ah, how wonderful is to have more people to fill the empty spaces! A table this big doesn't serve any purpose unless it's fully occupied, does it? That's what I always say!”

“Don't you usually get many visitors?” asked Molly, breaking the ice. Bill felt sweat trickle down his back. Tim guffawed, patting the back of Molly's hand on the table.

“I’m afraid so. I think that is cause I'm the only one crazy enough to live near an active volcano and my family's fame doesn't help me much either, I'm generally a lonely man. Most of the time it's frustrating, but I can deal with it. You are a big family from i can see, are they all yours, Arthur?”

“Only the redheads," he replied. You recognized in his tone of voice a slight pride “The other one is...”

“Harry Potter” Tim Grant's eyes sparkled with recognition. He looked at Harry with a smile, bowing his head to him in respect. Harry did the same “I know him. He's the guy who's been giving my brother headaches”

Tim's laughter echoed through the house being followed by the twins and you cleared your throat to get his attention. Tim spotted you from across the table waving his hand dismissively.

“Grandpa, please”

“A little joke to lighten the mood, my dear, oh, are these for me?” he questioned, bringing closer the baskets offered by the Weasleys resting on the table. Bill's basket was in front of him waiting to be properly delivered, so he stood up and did as he should. Tim Grant gladly received it, complimenting the selection they had made “What a cute boy, did you see him, dear,? he's gone red!”

You let out a chuckle, nodding at your grandfather's words. Bill's face was flushed as he returned to his spot and looked down at his hands. Tim guffawed again and banged the table.

“I appreciate the gifts, Arthur, I've never been part of a tradition like this before”

“It was important for my son and the rest of us to do it, to introduce ourselves properly”

“Sure! It's what a family with honor does. I'm not surprised. No, not at all. The Weasleys were in the book of the sacred twenty-eight for a long time until they were struck off the list. Tell me, that was quite a blow, wasn't it?”

“Not so much, my family has never cared about that sort of thing”

“Of course! It never did, I could see it up close. Did you know I was friends with your grandmother, Lysandra Yaxley?”

Arthur's eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Really. My family also once belonged to the most important pureblood families until I was born, of course. Lysandra and I became friends because her family also got kicked off the list when Cedrella, your mother, married your father Septimus Weasley. Even your grandfather Arcturus was removed from the Black family tree which was an embarrassment for him being that the ancestral Black family is too proud and such. Anyway, that's part of life, right? Creating new families, bringing people together...”

“Was your family always purebloods?” Fred asked. Tim shook his head

“It was. As I mentioned, before I made my appearance in this world”

“Why?”

Tim was suddenly silent. You scanned your grandfather's face waiting for an answer. Dinner plates flew in from the kitchen and positioned themselves at each guest's place setting while a huge chocolate fountain was set up in the center accompanied by a plate overflowing with assorted fruit. The baskets took a turn and took a place on your grandpa's shelves. Tim sighed, looking at the Weasleys asking to begin dinner.

“I’m the son of a witch, but not of a pure blood wizard”

“Don't you and Lord Voldemort share the same father?”

“Harry...”

”It's all right, Molly, I can answer that” Tim rubbed his chin, thinking “I understand your concern boy, being hide here doesn't make me ignorant to what's going on out there and I know better than anyone what you're going through. You need weapons against my brother and you do well. Tom is a big threat, a very big threat indeed. You're right, Tom and I don't share a father, but that doesn't make him any less my brother.

“I think we're straying from the subject that brought us here” mentioned Arthur feeling a sudden warmth. You supported him, but Tim continued to speak

“I was the son of Merope Gaunt and Aleister Grant. My father was a famous son, grandson and great-grandson of brilliant alchemists, and unsurprisingly he was one himself. Merope Gaunt was... a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin and a Parselmouth. She had a brother named Morfin and my grandfather was Sorvolo Gaunt. My parents met when the Gaunts had just moved to Little Hangleton after their exile and needed a place to stay. They became the owners of a squalor ridden shack on the edge of town and well, my father was a young alchemist who lived near the Gaunt abode”

You sipped from your wine glass as you listened to your grandfather speak. Never, even with the rest of the family, had he ever struck such a chord as he was doing with the Weasleys. The truth was that you didn't understand why he was telling them all that, however, you weren’t interested in interrupting the story as you knew your grandfather had a purpose with him.

“Those of us who are dedicated to alchemy have never enjoyed an enviable reputation because our transmutation abilities are mostly underestimated by the things that magic in general can produce and it makes a science like alchemy reserved for muggles in their attempt to approach the power that the wizards possess. Personally I think there is something right about that, precisely cause the transmutation in the Muggle world is divided into subjects they taught in schools like chemistry or physics, but alchemy goes beyond that, it’s a connection between the wizard and the spirituality that each one possesses...” the man's gaze was lost in a place at the table, pausing the story. Harry settled back on the seat waiting for him to continue “But it's very difficult to erase the deep-rooted ideas about it, so the best is ignore that and continue doing what we believe is right. Anyway, ah! I got off topic, didn't I? Okay, okay, well my parents ended up meeting and my father fell in love with my mother as fast as my socks get cold at night, but that infatuation wasn’t well regarded by my uncle and even less by my grandfather, of course, for the fame of the alchemists at the time”

“So what happened?” you asked. Tim smiled at you, taking a bite of the rye bread on his plate.

“My mother was treated worse than a house- elf by her father and Morfin, so she decided to run away with my father to France where he had several alchemist friends who could protect them. The Gaunts might have been exiled, but they were still dangerous and to be honest I think my father was terribly afraid of uncle Morfin. They eventually made it to France, but they encountered an infamous muggle who tried to hurt my mother”

Everyone stopped eating to pay attention to Tim as he drank his third glass of wine. You thought that your grandfather wouldn't even be able to stand up by the end of the night.

“He was known as Gilles De Rais. He was a sadistic muggle who tried to become a wizard even though he wasn't born a wizard and used my father to tell him secrets of alchemy. One night they were having a conversation when my father revealed him that there were certain amounts of gold in people's bodies. Gold is a very valuable component, as you already know, so the man's greed didn’t take long to show itself and he questioned my dad how it could be obtained. My father told him that the only way to obtain the gold was by draining the blood and dividing it with a very complicated procedure, however, the gold of an ordinary adult was quite scarce. The real wealth was in the blood of children of no more than ten years old because they possessed a great amount of gold and other components that could be transmuted into riches. The muggle did so, and when he learned that my mother was a real witch, he wanted to know if golden blood ran through her veins, which would make him richer than he already was. My father refused, and decided to leave the place before he hurt us, because they knew she was already pregnant. The muggle went mad and unleashed in him a fury that spread throughout France”

The Weasley twins chorused an astonished murmur as the others moved up to the table so as not to miss a word of the story. You sent a glance at Bill as he hadn't stopped sweating and going over his words all evening.

"They wanted to go back to Little Hangleton but my uncle and grandfather were still in a rage waiting to see them arrive, so my father sent my mother alone while he found another place to stay as he could not expose her to the cold streets of France while on standby, so they had no choice but to leave her with her family avoiding revealing my existence to them. Uncle Morfin didn’t want my mother back, but my grandfather convinced him because they needed someone to take care of the house and their needs. Time passed, my father didn’t come back and I was born in the garden of the house while my mother watered the plants”

“My birth was a surprise to everyone because my mother knew how to hide me well until my father's arrival but, as that didn't happen, I couldn't stand it any longer and made my triumphant appearance on my grandfather's favorite bushes. Uncle Morfin was furious and even tried to get rid of me immediately, but my mother clung to me like a lioness.

“Really?”

“Really," he replied with a broad smile, "I think a part of her was still holding on to my father showing up at some point and getting us out of there, but again that didn't happen. Mom had to endure her brother and father's abuse for me and that's a debt I can never repay”

The whole table fell silent, thinking. Dinner continued as a heavy thunderstorm rumbled overhead, accompanying old Tim Grant's story as if it were yesterday. The man paused to eat and the others did the same with no desire to miss a word. Harry's eyes sparkled in wonder and Mr. Weasley's strong hand on yours helped to soothe your fervent anguish.

“I guess that's what mothers do, isn't it? Anyway, the years passed and I had to live under uncle Morfin's shadow and at the mercy of his growing wrath. When I turned five I started helping the market men with their chores in exchange for a couple of pounds which we had to exchange later for galleons and sickles to survive for two weeks. Mom helped bring money into the house, but it wasn't enough. Then, at seven, the Dream Messengers showed up one night telling me I was required to study at the Uagadou magical college in Africa so I couldn't refuse”

“Wait, Uagadou takes students from the age of seven?”

“Oh I see," the man settled back in his chair, wiping the corners of his lips with a napkin as he stared at Ron, "I forgot that the rest of the magical schools aren't very well known around here, are they? Well, yes, some schools take in very young students as is the case with Uagadou or the Japanese school. It depends a lot on the traditions in each region i guess, because in the African school they select only descendants of alchemists or who have had at least someone in their bloodline whose spirituality helped them to become one. It wasn't all as easy as that, of course, because each student had to pass a test before having a permanent stay, but....

“What kind of test?” Harry questioned when dinner was over and they start dessert. The twins were the first to help themselves a piece of fruit, playing with the chocolate fountain in the center of the table.

“One that only wizards with alchemist ancestry could pass, Mr. Potter. I passed the test so I had no choice but to move to the castle immediately. I didn't want to leave my mother alone, but she convinced me to do it. Going to Uagadou was a great opportunity for me and for her cause it meant I could follow in my father's footsteps” Tim's face suddenly darkened as he pushed away the overflowing plate of fruit Molly offered him. He folded his hands on the table and thought for a long moment. The twins continued to play with the chocolate fountain but a fierce look from their mother made them stop. Then Tim Grant sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow with the handkerchief on his coat “I regret that decision to this day. I could have gone to Hogwarts like any other wizard, but I suppose my ambition got the better of me. Maybe... if I hadn't left Little Hangleton she never would have met Tom Riddle”

You tensed as you felt the pressure of Mr. Weasley's hand on yours a little too tightly. One glance at the others was enough to understand the dread the name struck their nerves. You even caught a glimpse of the hiss on Molly's lips and saw the sting in Harry's scar. Tim let out a chuckle, taking another drink from his wine glass.

“My brother’s father. I didn't hear from him until a couple of years later, when my mother wrote to me saying that uncle Morfin was in Azkaban and that my grandfather had died. She didn't give me many details, however, she did very vaguely mention the presence of a muggle who was quite striking to her. For better or worse, my mother was already forgetting my father, believing that he had abandoned her or, at worst, that he had dropped dead somewhere in France. I didn't believe the same, but it was logical that she got tired of waiting. I would never have grown tired, at least not having loved the way they did”

Your gaze rolled to meet Bill's eyes as he looked back at you. He smiled at you, causing you to blush. Then you both looked back at your grandpa who was sipping a new glass of wine.

“It was a couple more years before I stopped hearing from my family. Mom never wrote again and with uncle Morfin in Azkaban there was nothing that could be done. When I was eleven i returned to Little Hangleton only to find that my mother had married Tom Riddle, got pregnant and he had thrown her out on the street like a dog. She was left with nothing, unable to return to her father’s old house, and was forced to wander in the streets for months, until one rainy december night she went into labor in the middle of an alley. I helped her as much as I could, dragged her to the door of an orphanage where my mother no longer even had the strength to save the three of us. She had her wand in her hand, but she never used it. She gave up in front of me, the baby was born and asked me to name him after his father. She put him in my arms, the door of the orphanage opened, but mother had already died”

“Grandpa-”

“As you can understand, it's kind of hard for me to remember all that," Tim Grant's reddened eyes closed, choking back tears, "I was just a little kid taking care of a baby and I didn't do my best job of raising him. I was upset with my mother for a long time after she died, but I don't judge her now. After living an almost totally miserable life, my mother had no hope and not enough courage to make her want to keep trying, even for the sake of her newborn son. That decision had a considerably negative impact on Tom's psyche as he was growing up I suppose cause I had to go back to school and I couldn't take him with me, I would have! Of course I would have. I tried, but Tom wasn’t descended from any alchemist and there was nothing I could do about that. I tried, Merlin knows I did. I felt the need to leave him in that orphanage. I visited him whenever I could. For a year I went back and forth from continent to continent to see him, but that wasn't enough for Tom to grow up feeling loved. Orphanage life is hard, dear friends, we shouldn’t judge others too harshly, much less a lonely mother” Tim Grant's irritated eyes were fixed on Harry, reflecting deep pain “She was weakened by her long suffering and she never had Lily Evans’ courage. Everyone sacrifices for those they love in different ways, and my mother did it in her own way”

“Why didn't you ever talk about this?” you asked from across the table. Everyone looked at you “when dad asked you so-”

“Your father didn't need any more reasons to support Tom's follies” Tim shook his head “My brother is a very convincing person not only with his family members but with anyone who gets in the way of his plans. He has a very affiliated serpentine tongue, he inherited the gift of gab from our ancestors and your father grew up under his influence”

“We're very sorry for what you had to go through, Tim, but there's nothing that can be done about you-know-who and all that's left for us to do is to fight him”

“I understand, Arthur, but that doesn't stop me from blame myself. I did what I could, but an eleven-year-old can't take the place of his parents. When I graduated from school and wanted to take care of him Tom was already at Hogwarts and completely disappeared from everyone's eye," he lamented, scrunching his eyelids together, "That was the last time I saw him as the real Tom and not the ghastly grayish mass he is now”

The twins and Ron laughed at the comment and were immediately silenced by their father. Tim scrunched up his eyes, took a breath and let out a laugh looking around the room.

“Well, enough whining, that's not what you guys are here for, is it?” Bill, that had kept silent, denied when the man turned to see him, "What's done is done, and lamenting won't do any good, but I hope that what I've just told you will help you to see Tom's human side if he still has it, which I doubt it very much”

“Thank you, sir”

“You're welcome, Harry, dear, well? What was you wanted to tell me, my boy?”

Tim Grant turned his full body towards Bill, almost climbing up on the table fixing his huge opaque eyes on Bill's. Bill held his gaze noticing that the man was drunk since the beginning of the evening. He looked to you for help, but you were too busy watching Mrs. Weasley's reaction to hearing the reason for your visit.

“Come on, boy, don't be shy”

“I... well, I wanted to-”

“Oh, Arthur, your son is so cute!” he shouted as he squeezed Bill's cheeks. His brothers and Harry laughed and even Molly hid a mischievous smile by putting a piece of apricot in her mouth “Poor frightened boy. But, come on! I'm not going to make it harder for you, I know you're here to ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage, aren't you?”

“Yes, that's right, sir”

“Well, that's a great gesture of you, but this is a job for (Y/N)’s parents”

“It is, but you understand that under such circumstances we couldn't pay a courtesy visit to the Death Eaters," Arthur interjected with an amused smile.

“Indeed”

“So...”.

“So..." repeated Tim. You sighed, "You love my granddaughter?

“Yes, sir”

“How much?”

“A lot”

“Are you going to protect her, take care of her, and love her?”

“With my life, sir”

“Your life is not enough for me, William” Tim smiled at him, tapping Bill's chin with one of his fingers “My granddaughter is still a Grant, descended from very powerful wizards. My hand will not tremble to revenge the suffering you put her through, am i being clear?”

“Y-yes, sir. Crystal clear”

“Good boy," he replied, patting his cheek. Then he turned to Molly, took her hand and kissed the back of it, giving her a beautiful smile. The woman blushed, but it didn't last long because the man turned to her husband and bowed his head in respect. Arthur pressed your hand on the table and also kissed the back of your hand, making a promise “Well, then. Arthur, your son has my blessing to marry my granddaughter”

Mr. Weasley raised his glass, offering it to Tim.

“Thank you, Tim. We promise to take care for (Y/N) as a member of our family”

“I hope so." The man rested his chin on his hands, watching the huge smile form on your lips and kissing Arthur's cheek. He turned to Molly lightly patting her shoulder offering her a sweet roll which she accepted with a giggle “It's nice to see you accepting my (Y/N) so well” Molly wrinkled her nose “Since who she is and coming from a family as complicated as ours...it was hard for me to believe that someone from the outside could fall in love with her someday. I always knew my little girl was different from everyone” Tim's brown irises clouded over. Molly fell silent “You could put her in a basket of rotten apples and she'd make them blossom, so I'm glad to hear you've taken her in as one of yours. Being a Grant is a very complicated task, i never had a problem with people speaking shit about me, i was never ashamed to be recognized as Lord Voldemort's brother, but my yoke should not fall on my granddaughter” Molly Weasley listened carefully “I have always been a faithful supporter of being judged individually and not by the others actions, that would be like punishing children for their parents mistakes, wouldn't it? That wouldn't be fair and it wouldn't make us any less guilty than my brother, isn't that what he’s doing? Punishing Muggle-born wizards just because they weren't born under Merlin's blessing? I like you, Molly, I know you understand.

A pain in her chest made her look down, embarrassed. But then Tim lifted her chin at just the right moment for her to catch the moment her son rose from his place to walk over to you and lock you in a breath-stealing hug. Arthur was at your side watching you and then his attention focused on his wife giving her a beaming smile, the kind she hadn't seen in a long time. Even the rest of their children had joined in the celebration and Harry rose to congratulate you while you and Bill happily sealed your engagement with a kiss. Tim moved Molly's chin towards him, their gazes colliding.

“Yes," Molly whispered, "I understand.

“Good” Tim let out a laugh, pulling away from Molly to toast. The woman watched you as she smiled thinly ”Then my story was useful somehow”

Tag list:

@purple-vodka-99

@vampirestrawberries

@accio-remus-lupin

@pennyllanne

#bill weasley #bill weasley imagine #bill weasley x reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter cast #Harry Potter imagines #fred weasley imagines #domhnall gleeson #domhnall gleeson x reader #domhnall gleeson imagine #hogwarts

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barcaavengers · 3 years

Text

Weakness || Bucky Barnes Imagine || Pt. 3

Note: Woohoo part 3 is up! Thank you again for all the feedback! It means a lot that you like this story because it means I am in a way doing right on Bucky's character. I honestly suck at describing fighting scenes so I'm writing them to get some practice so sorry if some things just seem off haha. Already working on part 4! I don't know how long these series will be so it all depends on you guys. As always, feedback is encouraged along with your comments. ❤️

Disclaimer: Gif not mine! It belongs to @unearthlydust whose gifs are so prettyyyy.

Tag List: Shout out to these amazing supporters of this series since the first chapter. ❤️ @hanakin-im-panakin, @evie-pr, @justinekomwriterkru, @felicityofbakerstreet, @maaaaryx, @ijustwantedplums, @winterberryfox, @ttatum14, @pastelbabygirl19, @love-buckybarnes, @forever-aimless, @izzlenizzlebizzle @pastel-boy-sungjae

Your head felt like it was spinning and for a moment everything was quiet as you processed the red headed's words. Your gaze was on the floor before they closed to process everything, a way for you to shut down everything around you while you think. They were right...Of course Bucky would know, he is a Super Soldier. You should've listened to him. You should've listened to Sam when he pointed out you never did jump like that before, he knew your training skills.

"Why would you do that?" You ask quietly, trying your best to not have your voice crack or quiver from your feelings.

"If you are going to take on Captain America you need to be ready, and now that he has taken the serum."

"Let me rephrase that” you pause. “Why would you do that without asking?!" Your gaze lifts as you take a step forward, anger taking control for a moment. "I don't want this! I don't know what I'll be capable of-"

"That will help you know what you can do," she says. "If you are truly good, you will be better. If you are not…"

"So this is a fifty-fifty game for you? Let's see if you are capable of hurting people unintentionally if not, congratulations you passed the test" you say sarcastically and roll your eyes.

"Again, it is temporary. We don't know how long it will last in your body."

"What if it doesn't go?"

The girl simply shrugs and puts her hoodie over her head, "We will find out sooner than later" she says before turning on her heel.

Your eyes look after the girl, you lean against the wall behind you and close your eyes, taking in a few deep breaths. You knew deep down you wouldn't hurt anyone, but the fact that the possibility was there… You felt like the boys were going to look different at you. Sam wouldn’t be as protective as he has been with you since day one, Bucky may not find comfort in you anymore because you have turned into a Super Soldier just like him. Let’s not forget that Zemo could try to kill you since according to him people with the Serum aren’t supposed to exist. Were you even considered one of those people even if apparently yours is just a prototype of a temporary chemical?

"Y/N…" Sam shouts from above before landing in front of you. "What the hell do you think you are doing?" He asks as he gets closer before he notices your demeanor. "What's wrong? I saw Karli…"

"She-" you trail off before you shake your head. "She did inject me with something, Sam…" he eyes you curiously. "She gave me a...some type of temporary version of the Serum…" you can see Sam's eyes darkening with anger. "She says it's only supposed to last a while, she isn't sure how long but…"

"Come here," Sam's wings get secured on his back before he pulls you into a hug. You always found comfort talking to Sam or his hugs. He wasn't very affectionate with people that weren't his family, but the time you have spent together brought you quite close.

Bucky runs up to the two of you, his blue eyes trailing over your form, reading your body language. "What did she do to her?" His jaw clenched as he looked at Sam.

"Karli injected her with a temporary Serum…" he says quietly as you let go of him. "Y/N, listen to me. You are not going to turn into Walker, we won't let you. You are nothing like him if that’s what you are afraid of..." He cups your face between his hands and you nod your head.

"I knew it," Bucky says, hands landing on his hips. "What's the plan?"

"We have to find Walker," you run a hand through your hair. "If this thing only lasts a few hours, we have to make it count" you say and look at Bucky and then Sam. “We have to use it to our advantage.”

"Sharon sent me Walker's location while getting here. Let's move."

Once you find Walker, Sam tries to talk to him into giving the shield but to no avail. The guy was obsessed with the title, the shield, everything that had to do with being Captain America.

"Don't go down that road. Believe me, it doesn't end well..." Bucky says once Walker tries to justify his actions.

"I'm not like you!" Walker says and Bucky's gaze shifts from the man to the floor. Rude.

"You will never be like him, or Steve," you say and take a step forward to the man. "You are lying to yourself about Lemar's killer. You know that man you killed was innocent, but you killed him anyway" you take another step. "You are pretending to be someone you will never be..." you pause. "You will never, ever, be Captain America. You are just some knockoff version."

The words trigger Walker and he is quick to rush your way, but you rush to him as well. You duck when he tries to punch you and manage to move away from him, moving behind his back and kicking him, sending him flying towards Sam.

Sam is quick to deliver a punch on the man's side, Bucky tries to hit him with his vibranium arm, but the man uses the shield and you flinch at the sound that echoes through the warehouse at the contact of vibranium against vibranium. He kicks Bucky to the other side against a column and you would lie if you didn't get scared at the reminder that that was how Lemar died. The impact knocked Bucky unconscious but he was still breathing. Sam reaches for the arm that has the shield but Walker brushes him away with a punch. You jump on the man's back, legs around his waist as you try to choke him with your arms.

The man starts walking backwards with you still on his back, hitting a wall before repeating the action a few times making you grunt at the pain on your back. You let go of his neck and fall from his back, he turns quickly, taking advantage that you were still processing the impact and tries to put the edge of the shield against your neck. “Why are you making me do this?!” He asks as he looks at you. You are struggling as you try to push him off, your hues looking into his defiantly.

“You. Don’t. Deserve. It!” You scream before pushing him off, he lands on his back and the shield lands next to him. “Sam!” You shout as you both rush for the shield. Walker quickly reaches for it and tosses it, sending Sam flying to a wall. The shield returns to the man and you glare at him.

“We could’ve been a team” Walker says as he stands up, straight posture as he walks towards you.

“Not a chance” you look at the shield and from the corner you can see Bucky is regaining consciousness. You run to Walker and when you get close you make a quick back flip, taking him by surprise which gives you a space to punch him right on his nose. “Wanted to do that for a while” you say with a smirk. You are about to throw the next but the man catches your arm, he was much stronger than you, his grip was too painful. He reaches for your wrist and twists it making you yelp and by that same hand, he holds you open to kick you, sending you a few feet back but you land on your knee and one leg stretched, hands supporting your balance.

Sam tries to take the shield with one of his gadgets, but Walker is stronger, even with Sam using his jetpack but with no luck. Walker brings him down and has Sam on his back. “Bucky, come on. We can take him now” you help Bucky up, Walker being too distracted with Sam trying to tear the wings off, and then you hear the screech of metal breaking, then hitting the floor. Walker reaches for the shield and you see him aiming for Sam's head. Bucky rushes from behind him and both of them fall a few feet away from you, you are quick to go to Walker and kick his ribs with all your strength.

Bucky lifts John up and gets him against the lifter. Sam moves to take the arm that had the shield strapped to and started pulling it off but Walker was holding onto it like his life depended on it, and it seemed like it did. You move to hold his other arm in case he even thought of punching Bucky to try to get free. The three of you struggled, even Sam with his jetpack strength couldn't take it off easily, but the cracking of bones and John's scream was all you needed to confirm that Sam got the shield off.

Bucky and you let go of him, both of you trying to catch your breath. "It's over John," Sam says as he holds the shield.

"It's mine!" And there he goes again. You run and tackle him, straddling his chest before delivering three quick punches, blood covering your knuckles, he pushes you off to the floor and gets on top of you quickly as his hands went around your neck. Bucky gets John off from you, flinging him toward Sam who was holding the shield and you flinch at the sound. The three men fall and stay down for a couple of seconds, Bucky being the first to move only to take a shield and throw it besides Sam before he walks away. You barely had the energy to move or call him, you just lay there looking at Sam. He picked up the shield and wiped some of the blood with his bare hands.

"Sam…" you whisper quietly as you stand up after a while.

"I'm okay…" his voice cracks as he holds onto the shield. "Let's go" he takes the hand you offer him to pull him up. You take a last glance at Walker who remains on the floor, glaring at the two of you and holding onto his broken arm before you walk away.

After everything, you went with Bucky to take care of Zemo and then decided to check on Sam. Bucky had to deliver him a box while you just wanted to check on the man that has helped you since day one. There is no way to explain how happy you were that Sam's boat was helping all of you to get distracted. Sam and Bucky worked with the boat while Sarah and you made sure everything was in order. All of this was giving you a much needed sense of normalcy that you haven't had in a while.

The day is settling in and the three of you were sitting on the boat, Sam staring at the box Bucky brought him as you all sipped on your drinks. No words spoken for a while, just enjoying the quiet for once.

"Well, gotta catch my flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night…" Bucky says, standing to take his coat.

"I thought you two were leaving together?" Sam asks and you almost spill what was left of your drink.

"Nah, she is staying with you guys" Bucky says and you turn to him. "I heard you talking with Sarah" he shrugs and looks away.

"Then you would know I'm not staying, but of course you ignored the rest" you sip on your drink, rolling your eyes. You did say to the woman that you wanted to stay, so that was what Bucky heard, apparently he didn't listen to the part where you said you couldn't just leave him like that.

"Just stay here" Sam says to Bucky and you see the soldier's eyes light up almost instantly. "No PDA with Y/N, alright? You do whatever you have to do when you are back in New York."

"I don't see that happening" you mutter and drink the last sip of your beer.

"You two haven't talked, yet?"

"There isn't anything to talk about" you mutter into the bottle. There was so much you wanted to say, but it wasn't the time although things were...calm in a way.

"Agree…" And he agrees. Wow.

"Listen to me, the two of you. You have to sort this out. Y/N, you can't keep holding onto your feelings waiting for the right time, and you, Cyborg, you have to get your life back. You can multitask with your book and your life" Sam says. "It's obvious you two help each other out and everyone knows this. Steve knew it" your eyes shift to the floor at the mention of Steve.

"I can't take this talk again" you stand up and jump out of the boat, walking away.

"That is the exact opposite of what I'm trying to make you do, Y/N!" You hear Sam shout.

You were watching Sarah's kids play around the kitchen area, the kids making sound of hits while the smallest played with the shield. Bucky was a few feet away resting on the couch, so peacefully. The shield suddenly drops and you see him shift before opening his eyes. "Hey" he salutes and the kids are quick to put the shield back in place.

"Put it back. Hurry…" the oldest says before running outside. Bucky looks at them while smiling and there is something about his eyes...It looked like he missed something, longed for something...

"You are awake" you say and he smiles at you, an authentic Bucky smile. You hated how easily his smile could change your behavior.

"You are not mad anymore" he points out and you just roll your eyes.

"Don't push your luck" you say and walk to him after taking two beers, handing one to him. "I wasn't mad. I just didn't want to put my mind into that topic again…"

"Thanks" he says quietly and you sit at the end of the couch where his legs were, so he sits up to be by your side. "You know, that reminded me of Wakanda," he starts. "The kids playing around, waking me up," he chuckles.

"You miss Wakanda, don't you?" You say.

"Yeah…" he says quietly and takes a sip off the bottle. "I felt peace there. Actual calmness...Something like this..."

"I get it. Being away from the mess that New York can be, no Superhero problems, no missions, no conflicts...Things are just quiet," you explain. Silence fills the air for a moment.

"Y/N, I've been thinking about what Sam said...We can't ignore this anymore...But I don't know where to start," he says quietly. "I want this with you" your eyes lift to look at him, did he just…? "I want us to have a sense of a normal life. I know it's a long road..."

"I don't want you to feel pressured. That's not what I want," you shake your head. "I just want you to know I'm here for you, Buck. I will wait as long as it takes, until you are ready…" you look at him.

"I can't ask you that, Y/N. I know for sure it won't be forever, but it will take time."

"You think I waited all this time to give you up just like that?" Your body shifts to face him. "I won't lie, there was a time I thought that there was no point in trying..." you avoid his gaze.

"Hey, no…" his fingers reach for your chin and make you face him, his warm hand cups the side of your face. "If you give me a little time, we can sort this whole thing out…"

He places the bottle of beer in the table next to him, not moving his hand away from the position it was in your cheek before turning to you. His thumb brushes your skin, his blue eyes taking you in and you can't help but do the same. His blue eyes, his scruff, his perfect face, his jawline, his lips, the way his tongue wetted those kissable lips...

His hand moved to the back of your neck to bring you in for a kiss. This wasn't like the first kiss which was a simple lip lock. No. This was a full kiss, instantly feeling his tongue brushing your lips. The kiss was slow and you felt bad about how desperate you needed more of his lips. He pulls away after a few seconds, your eyes open slowly to find him looking at you.

"What?" You ask quietly.

"Nothing, I just...I haven't kissed anyone like that since…" he trails off, he gets comfortable and rests on his side on the couch, his hand dropping from the back of your neck to his side.

"Didn't expect you to be charming every girl around you with your Winter Soldier mode" you say and he chuckles. You loved this. You loved that his whole body language was calm and relax, and he was smiling. "Although you did charm me, but I met you in between so it doesn't count."

He chuckles, not saying anything about it, sipping on his beer. "At what time is our flight?"

"At night, we have time…" you say as you eye him.

"We should tell Sam we are already talked," he says and you smirk.

"We should."

Bucky stands from the couch, taking his beer with his vibranium arm before reaching for yours. You smile at him before taking his hand.

Later that day you are sitting on the stairs of the front porch while Sam and Bucky talk and toss the shield around. You haven't told them yet, but you still felt the rush, like the Serum was still in your body, but not as strong as it was in the beginning. You can hear the conversation faintly from your spot, so you continued scrolling through your phone while listening.

"It's just, that shield's the closest thing I've got left to a family, so when you retired it, it made me feel like I had nothing left." Your heart shatters at his words. This was the first time you have heard Bucky talk about family, and not mentioning Steve, but it wasn't long until he mentioned him and his book. "I just figured that if it worked for him, then it'd work for me." He looks at you after those words, you can see him from the corner of your eye but you continue to scroll on your phone.

"I understand, man. But Steve is gone" Sam pauses. "This might be a surprise but, it doesn't matter what Steve thought. You gotta stop looking to other people to tell you who you are." The shield comes back to Bucky and he catches it swiftly. "Plus, that girl right there?" There goes Sam, trying to play cupid. "That girl would jump off a bridge if you told her, man. If this shield is the closest you got to a family? Maybe it's time you start your own" he says and pats the soldier in his flesh arm. "But you gotta talk it out, and slow steps. You are new again to all of this."

"I know," Bucky says and he looks at you as you walk to them. "That's what scares me, Sam. Besides Steve, no one has looked out for me as much as she does" he says, his eyes not looking away from you. "I don't want to hurt her, Sam, and I feel like I might while I get back on having a life…"

"Let me ask you, are you still having those nightmares?"

"All the time...It means I remember. It means a part of me is still there. Which means a part of the Winter Soldier's still in me…" he tosses the shield and Sam catches it.

You reach them when they are talking bout the amends, the way Bucky should approach things to get proper closure. Then the two clasp their hands together and remain like that for a while.

"Good talk" Bucky says and Sam chuckles.

"You know Karli won't quit."

"Just call us when you have a lead and we will be there, Sam." You jump in. "I'll still come out to visit."

"Stay safe. I know you will be in good hands, metal and flesh" you have to laugh as he pulls you into a hug. "Take care of him, look after him. I know he will do the same for you."

"I know, Sam" you hide your face in his shoulder. "Thank you."

"Love you, kiddo. If you need me, call me."

After a few hours of flight, you get to the JFK Airport. You look for your keys in your bag as you walk, Bucky right besides you. Ever since you have landed he has been quiet, you couldn't guess what he was thinking of, but you let him be. Once outside, you slow your walk and he looks around before looking at your keys and then shifting his gaze. "So…" you say and purse your lips. "Um, do you want me to give you a ride to your house?"

"Uh, no. It's okay. It's late and I don't want to bother you."

"Buck, you live a few minutes away from my place. Let me take you."

"No really its…" you are glaring at him, and he sighs. "Alright, fine." You grin and start walking to the parking lot.

"You are staying at your family's house in Brooklyn, right?" You ask him.

"Yeah…" he looks around the parking lot that was barely lit except for a few dim lights here and there, and you feel him get closer to you, almost protective and you can't help but smile at the action.

Once you park in front of his house, you bite your lip as you put your car in parking.

"This is it.."

"This is it…" he nods his head. "I would invite you inside but I don't think my place is ready to have any visitors" he says, running a hand on the back of his neck.

"Don't worry about it" you wave it off. "We will keep in touch, Karli won't take long to show up again..."

"Uh, yeah. I just have to make a visit first and then we can start, you know, figuring things out" he offers you an apologetic smile.

"You don't have to do it alone, you know?" He nods his head. How were you supposed to say goodbye to him? A kiss on the cheek? On the lips? A hug?

"I'll see you later" he says and you can see he is hesitating as much as you are. "Uhm, I should…" he shifts in his seat before opening the door and getting out, pulling his bag with him. "Text me when you get home?"

"Will do" you say and he closes the door of the car, he gives you an awkward wave with the softest smile before he takes two perfect steps backwards and turning to walk to his house.

You are lying down on your living room couch watching TV when your phone indicates a new message. Your fingers lazily reach for it, unlocking the screen to read the message.

Bucky: Do you want to go out or something?

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes imagines #marvel imagines #marvel imagine #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #tfatws #tfatws imagine #tfatws imagines #avengers #marvel #bucky barnes x reader #reader x bucky barnes #(weakness pt.3)#(mine)

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b0rista · 3 years

Note

i just saw your connie hcs and omg IM SO IN LOVE😩💕 is it okay to request an angst fic where connie’s s/o, gets shot instead of sasha?

— us.

an alternate universe where instead of losing his best friend, connie springer loses his soulmate.

AN: we love traumatizing q-ball here <3

WARNINGS: violence, death, extreme angst. && this is unedited, oops.

as the night deepened in its severity, you were swerving atop the disarray like that of a fallen angel. no matter how inhuman it felt, your duty was inevitable, as was the cause that came alongside it. you were a soldier. you, and your family. well, they weren’t linked to you through blood, but through experience, and even sorrow. as far blood relative, you were sure that you were nearing the final remnants of your family tree.

you win some, you lose some. even through all of the heartbreak and the waste, you'd managed to gain one thing. one beautiful, perplexing thing. well, it was more of a person than it was a thing; your love, your life, your will to move on— your connie. while you'd only become an item recently, you and connie's feelings toward one another go back, and far. in all honesty, you couldn't exactly recall when it was you first started loving him. and with his feeble memory, you were sure that it went both ways. fortunately, you can't bring yourself to care all that much about the past. you were living in the now, and turbulently so.

currently, you were in the midst of a mission. an intense one, at that. while each and every one of your assignments served with severe purpose, this one in particular wasn't meant to be taken lightly. after all, this had to be your very first time off of the island. not only were you standing on unfamiliar soil, but you were also standing within the core of an established battle between two entirely seperate worlds— that fact alone was enough dangerous as it was exhilarating.

however, the said battle was soon coming to a close, and it was nearing the end of your abrupt visit at the marleyan headquarters. the assignment was meant to be brief, if not a little tightly knit. you were to fight alongside the opposing combatants, retrieve your distant comrade, eren jaeger, and retreat immediately. and while you were still a bit skeptical of the literal aircraft you'd be traveling on, it was surely something you could get used to.

standing alongside your given sector of the battlefield, you were preparing for takeoff. due to having excelled in hand to hand combat during your time as a trainee, you were put closer to the ground than the rest of your associates, much to your worried boyfriend's dismay. as always, he fretted over you. if you so pleased, you could drop him on his ass whenever you'd like. even so, it always felt as if your capabilities were underestimated.

nevertheless, this wasn't the time nor the place for you to sulk in your own bitterness. soon, you'd be home. in the mere matter of hours, you'd be back within the comfortable abode of your home, cozied up in the arms of your beloved. in the moment, that's all you could bring yourself to even think about. you were tired, you were. if anything, the fighting only drained you. you were drained, and the only one able to comfort you was halfway across the battlefield, fighting the same fight as you. once you were to rejoice on the aircraft, you would be sure to pester him for the affection you craved ever so intensely.

with that being said, a call from afar was quick to pull you out of your own head and back to reality. from across the calloused ground that you stood upon, a familiar face waved in your direction.

"y/n!" they would call, "we're boarding— it's time to go home."

at that, you wasted no time in gathering yourself. with a nod, you readied your gear, intertwining your fingertips in between the metallic leashes that resided on your hips. with a single jolt, you propell yourself forwards, releasing your gear's wires onto the nearest rooftop. the moment your feet left the ground, you headed toward the jet. alas, your work here was done.

just as your comrade had said, it was time to go home.

while the carnage beneath you served as a grim reminder of just how destructive your livelihood was, it was the thought of returning to your sweet home within the walls that urged you to look away. a fire had been lit upon your very own accord, and you despised this war. still, it was your war to fight, and with good reason. at least, that's what you told yourself.

as your team's blimp came into view, your voyage into the sky became rushed. clearly, you were aching to leave. little did you know that below the latches of your ODM gear, a tiny pair of copper hues were watching you; and with the utmost fury.

with that final clasp hooking to the aircraft's entrance, you swiftly flew into the air, inured hands grasping at the rescue ropes that fluttered against the metal exterior. the air serving a harsh breeze against your skin, you climbed to the door. however, before you could pull yourself in, a hand reached out to your aid.

"come," the voice would say, earning quite the look from you. to your immediate relief, it was the exact person you'd been meaning to see. looking down at you from within the jet was connie, his arm extended out toward you. and while you couldn't exactly see it due to the circumstances, there was a faint glimmer of consolation poured within his golden hues. thank god, you were alright.

taking hold of his hand, you allowed him to pull you up, bringing you into the craft with such a force, you'd have assumed he was angry with you. however, you knew that that wasn't the case— he was relieved, in the same way that you were. and immediately, he began checking you of any possible harm.

"how are you?" he'd ask, fingers moving to pinch at your cheeks. you only winced at the feeling, the literal life being squeezed out of your face as your boyfriend hurriedly scanned you. this was an occurrence that happened at the end of each and every expedition, much to your displeasure. "are you hurt? anything happen while we were seperated? i didn't realize it'd get so hectic, or else i would have-"

in the midst of his banter, you would only place your hands on his forearms, lowering his touch from either side of your face. gently, you would give them a squeeze, providing him with that reassurance that he desperately needed. softly, you would smile, "i'm okay. by the looks of it, most of us are. that's good."

with a sigh, connie would nod. after all, you were right. only few soldiers were injured, and from what the two of you could tell, most of them were coming home. considering the rare occurrence, you could only smile.

from the corner of your eye, you could see more and more comrades boarding the aircraft. and with time, a particularly familiar face would pull himself on board. having made himself out to be quite the leader, it brought warmth to your core to see jean return safely. the same went for your other friends, of course— sasha, mikasa, armin, and so on. at this point in time, you couldn't even classify them as friends. they were family.

seeing as though your lover was quietly waiting to reconcile with the others, you would lay a brief pat to his shoulder. "i'm gonna put up my gear," you'd say, bringing yourself up to your feet. "while i do that, you ought to thank those two for making it through."

with a nod, he would comply. as always, you were the one to nudge him in the right direction. it was your straightforwardness that balanced out connie's constant uncertainty, adding yet another reason as to why the two of you were simply perfect. without any further discussion, he would make his way over to the entrance of the jet, rejoicing with jean and sasha. as he did, you made your way to the compartment sector of the craft, stowing away your gear. after all, there wasn't any further need for it.

as you situated yourself for the trip back to paradis, you would exchange small talk with your fellow soldiers, both congratulating and thanking those who made it back alive. because truly, you were thankful. it wasn't often that you gain such a victory. though, as time went on and you'd circled your way through the plane, you found yourself headed right back to where your heart lingered.

sitting along the back of the carrier, you saw your love hooked in the middle of his fabulous trio of friends, pulling an immediate smile out of you. he was yet to see you, but you could see him. with both of his arms latched onto the other two, you could hear his quiet confession from where you stood.

"it's not very fair to the others, but you guys are special ... to me."

not wanting to spoil the three's moment, you would only watch. it was the tender silence that stitched together a memorable matter of seconds, despite the circumstances. from a fair couple of feet away, you smiled. unfortunately for you, he was able to catch it.

"and you," connie would add, quickly reaching over to grasp your hand, "you're no different."

melting into his touch, all you could do was interlock your fingers in his own, lips tipping in yet another smile. taking advantage of the opportunity, the boy would pull you into his shared embrace, tugging you in between him and the other two. the iron outline of your uniform managed to graze jean's side, causing quite the exclamation: "ouch, jackasses. don't go for the hug when you're covered head-to-toe in metal."

of course, you would only ignore the brunette's antics, further sinking into the heavenly embrace of your lover. with your cheek pressed against his chest and his fingers tracing along the locks of your hair, you immediately felt at ease. this was home.

"now, now," sasha would coo, adjusting her ponytail, "now isn't the time to overflow the aircraft in your PDA, lovebirds. when do we get to eat?"

pulling your head from connie's chest, you would let out a chuckle, "not until we land, sasha. you do realize we're in the air, right?"

"ah," the girl would sigh, sheepishly moving to scratch the back of her neck. adjusting yourselves, the bunch of you moved to your feet, "i suppose i haven't quite adjusted just yet. just three years ago, we relied on our horses for everything."

"yeah," jean would add, "somehow, it feels like that was just yesterday."

now that you were all situated, the four of you shifted further towards the rest of your team, who were all dancing and shouting in celebration. you hadn't even realized how elated everyone was, having been so focused on the others. out of everyone boarded the ship, it was those who were apart of the 104th that had witnessed the most. with that in mind, acts of celebration were more mild than anything else. while you were glad, you were glad quietly.

still, something felt off. somebody was missing.

just as you were about to make a comment regarding the missing member of the squadron, a quick remark from sasha caught your attention.

"did you hear a sound just now?"

while the other two dismissed the thought, it was you that took it into a much more thorough consideration. compared to anyone else, sasha's sense of hearing was impeccable. while the others may have failed to realize it, she heard something. and with her senses mixed with your paranoia, you were quick to take the remark into account. out of instinct, you watched the door. the door was open, and one of your comrades from below remained missing. the door was open, and sasha heard something. the door was open, and it was vacant of any sort of movement.

the door was open, and someone slipped through.

a miniature figure with a barreled weapon pounced through the doorway and onto the aircraft, and at the sight of a single finger latched onto the trigger, your heart itself dropped. before anyone else had the chance to react, you did. seeing as though the muzzle was aiming toward the center of the flood, you were quick to lunge sideways, pushing whoever it was that stood before the armed figure out of the way. as you flushed whatever will you had to live into the force of your push, sasha simply looked at you in horror— the horror of having to survive, simply due to your own accord.

it was quick. it was immediate, the single bullet, plunging directly into your chest. it was quick to enter you, and it was just as quick to warp you of your senses completely. while you saw that you were falling, you couldn't feel the impact of the wooden floor beating into your back. you couldn't feel it. you felt nothing.

and while you felt nothing, connie felt everything. his entire universe, crumbling apart before him.

in a blend of absolute horror, you could see from your hindsight as he rushed to your side, palms immediately moving to cup your face. moving your blurred gaze towards him, he would shout at you. he would shout, but it was all unintelligible.

"no, no, no," he would mutter, fiercely shaking his head. you were in an absolute daze, and he couldn't sense what you were feeling. hell arose in the back, and your attackers were being mercilessly beaten into defeat. your friends, however, didn't leave your side.

tears brimming in her eyes, sasha would rush to get some sort of a bandage for your wound, which was bleeding profusely. before anyone could process anything, you were laying in a pool of blood, the crimson flow staining your uniform.

"goddammit— HURRY!" your lover would scream, eyes wide. your head lay in his lap, and his fingers tenderly graze the sides of your cheeks in a loving, desperate manner. soon enough, he would feel the raw set of tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes, too. this wasn't happening, this couldn't happen. not to you. dear god, not to you.

"look at me, y/n." he would say, to which you tried your absolute hardest to oblige. you tried, but as your life itself began to drain, you only struggled.

"you can't leave, baby. you can't go, not yet. not after everything we've been through, everything we've fought for! it's always been us, it's always been you. look at me!"

however, you couldn't look. no, you couldn't do anything. instead, you could use whatever strength you held, and mutter the very last of your words: "us."

it's always been us.

with that, your blood went cold. and as your eyes closed, and your skin paled, a blood curdling scream begging you to stay filled the air around you.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #aot imagines #aot x reader #connie springer x reader #connie springer imagine #bye i cried writing the end

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moral-turpitudes · 3 years

Text

Drowning:

Trigger Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Guns, Neglect, etc.

Word Count: 2,400

Characters: Thomas Shelby x Shelby!Sister

I’ve wanted to try my hand at OC’s for a while so her name is Evelyn Shelby lol.

Request: “Hey! Maybe one with Thomas were he kind of forgets that his little sister actually has feelings. He keeps on using her as bait for the business and one day she snaps, pointing a gun to her head. Just an angst fic. Love your writing so much. xx”

Requested by: Anon

Summary: Years after returning from London and agreeing to help out her family, Evelyn Shelby soon comes to terms with the horrors of her job and hopes someone can help her see the good she’s done for the family, even if it means talking to her ever-distant brother Thomas.

“That’ll be 3 pounds Mr.” The third youngest Shelby said quietly, grabbing her hand gun from her purse while the man looked away, giving her enough time to slip her coat on over her bare body, and hiding the gun in her pocket.

“I’ll give you 5 if you tell Mr. Shelby I’m coming for him tomorrow, I know you’ve seen him around here.” The man said, his breath reeking of whiskey as he whispered in her ear.

Shivers went down her spine as the man touched her face. He caressed her cheek roughly before moving away from her, placing two extra bills on the bed before heading to the door.

“Wait, I forgot to tell you something...” She said as he stopped to turn around. He smirked, eyeing her up and down as she walked towards him.

“You won’t be seeing anyone.” She said, giving him a wicked smile as she quickly pulled the gun out and shot the man point blank. As he fell to the floor with a loud thud, blood dripped down her face and bare chest as she looked at the mess of the bedroom.

Tommy saved this area of the Garrison for when anyone in the family needed a place to stay or a place to fuck, and tonight was her night to use the room as she pleased, all in the name of blinder business.

She walked over to the en-suite bathroom, looking at her haggard reflection in the mirror. Blood glinted off her face and chest in the dimly lit room, her makeup was smeared in some areas, and her hair was in a messy bun of sorts.

As she glanced silently in the mirror, she lit a cigarette, letting the smoke escape through her lips before curling it back through her nose, desperately needing to calm her nerves as she thought about the past couple years.

After her brothers left for war, she left for London, leaving Ada and Polly to care for Finn in order to start her life on her own terms for once, knowing she couldn’t stay out in Small Heath like the others as it held too many memories. But when she eventually got news of her brothers coming home, she knew she couldn’t leave them, especially after their mother’s death and their fathers sudden departure.

As the memories came flooding back, she remembered that she took this job to help them and to spend more time with them, but it only took a toll on her as time went on.

On the outside, she remained calm much like her older brother Tommy, but on the inside she was drowning. Drowning in the darkness that consumed her thoughts when she was near her brothers, thinking that if she’d succumb to the waves, that no one would be there to pull her out, not unless they were forced to. The only ones who paid her any mind these days were Polly and Finn, as Ada was out with her son most days and the boys were out wreaking almost as much havoc as she was.

As she finished her cigarette, she dabbed some of the blood off her face and chest, realizing there weren’t many wash cloths to use.

“Fuck it.” She mumbled under her breath as she quickly got dressed and put her bloodstained coat back on. Her dress was wrinkled and torn where the man had roughly gone for her chest, not having any sense in his drunken state.

With light footsteps she padded over to the bed to strap on her heels, and grabbed the money as she headed for the door, avoiding the puddle of blood and stepping over the mans body.

Her heels clicked down the stairs as she made her way through the back hall of the Garrison, the bar seemingly empty except for her brother Tommy.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, almost no emotion in her voice as she spoke from tired lips, a cut from a few hours before making itself known as she remembered the man slapping her for being too “bossy” when explaining her rates like rehearsed.

“I’m here to drink, Evelyn. I’m also here to collect that mans body so I don’t have to deal with it tomorrow.”

“Tommy Shelby, getting his hands dirty? I thought that was for Arthur these days. What about uncle Charlie? You seem to have enough blood on your hands already.” She remarked, sitting down across from him at the booth and looking at his bloodied knuckles. He scoffed as he took a swig of his whiskey, the smell of it making her stomach churn slightly.

“Did he do that?” Tommy said, an angry look filling his eyes as he looked at the cut on her lip.

“What do you think?” She said putting out her cigarette as she blew out a final puff of smoke.

“It’s a good thing he’s already dead.” He said, looking out the window and avoiding his sisters tired gaze.

“How was the family meeting? I wasn’t invited apparently.” She remarked, ripping him out of his thoughts.

“I’m not doing this, Ev we talked about this.” He said rolling his eyes at her as he sat back in the seat, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I just want to know why in the hell you include everyone except me in the meetings. I want to know why you make time for everyone except me...Tell me. Now.” She demanded, her heart racing and face flushing with anger as her temper flared. Her eyes eerily mimicked her brothers as she looked at him.

Tommy sighed as he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

“We think that limiting your attendance at meetings can be good for you. We’re just wanting to protect our sister.” He said.

Evelyn scoffed as she took the bottle of whiskey in her hand, drinking straight from the bottle.

“You think you’re protecting me but you’re not. One day Tommy...one fucking day you’ll realize that I’m valuable to this god forsaken family as more than a whore. You can pull that shit with the others about what’s best for us but you’re not pulling that with me.” She said taking another cigarette out of her coat and lighting it herself as she continued.

“I want to be here, believe me I do, but not being let in on what’s happening doesn’t help as much as you think it does. I barely know what’s going on unless you come to me personally...If you cared about me, you wouldn’t cast me out as the fucking bait of the family and then leave me hanging.” She said, tears threatening to fall down her blood stained cheeks.

“You’re helping with the business because it’s in your blood, Evelyn. We’re family, and we’re paying you more than you could back in London. Would you want to abandon us?” He asked, getting defensive.

“What difference would it make Tommy? I’m no more valuable to you dead or alive. I just lure the men you can’t kill right away and I don’t get any recognition for that. I’ve killed 20 men since I’ve moved back to help the family and I can remember each of their faces.” She said, looking away from him annoyed.

“Don’t you get tired of seeing their faces haunting you?” She asked, taking another swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning her cut lip as she swallowed.

“I stopped seeing their faces a long time ago Ev, and you need to as well. This is why we’ve been keeping you out of the business most days.” He said taking the bottle from her grasp.

“I’m sitting here still covered in his blood, I’m sitting here after another night with a drunken evil man and I’m disgusted Thomas...I feIt nothing when I shot him.” She said, her fingers grazing the metal of the hand gun in her pocket.

“You know how you said you felt like you were drowning when you came home from France?” She asked.

“Well I feel like that too, but no ones dared to ask how I've been. I’ve always been the last in command. Hell, fucking Finn has more say in this family than I do.” She said, putting the gun to her head shakily. Tommy froze inside, barely being able to speak at first.

“Evelyn...listen to me...your work has helped us, we’ve just been too busy to stop and fucking think about anything else. Who was the person that cheered me up when Arthur and John and I got home aye? It was you. Not Ada, not Finn, just you. If you’re drowning...I’d like to help, if you’ll let me...” He said, looking into his sisters eyes that were almost a reflection of his.

With a sigh she set the gun on the table, sliding it to Tommy. He immediately put it in his coat and stood up.

“What are you doing?” She asked, running her hands over the dried blood down her cheek.

“We’re going to talk about this and I’m going to clean you up.” He said, lighting a cigarette before heading over to the bar.

“What’s eating at you aye? You may not think I can tell that you’ve been off but I can. You know Polly sent me here for you...” He said, pouring her a glass of water and drenching a cloth in alcohol.

He handed the cloth to her and got to work on the other one as she wiped off the blood on her chest, looking at the tear in her dress and pulling her coat tightly to her as she tried to cover the large rip.

“Polly will kill me herself if she sees the dress is torn. Fucking bastard.” She said taking a sip of water.

Tommy sat near her and dabbed the cloth on her face and inspected the cut on her lip, causing her to wince as he cleaned it.

“I’m not talking about the dress Evelyn, that can be fixed. What’s going on up here?” He asked, pointing to his head.

“Everything and...nothing...” She said, looking down at her hands that were clenched together in her lap.

“I guess it’s in our blood because I like this business...getting rid of bad men that keep fucking us over, but...killing them takes a toll. I see their faces when I try to sleep some nights, and other nights I sleep as if nothing happened...” She said as Tommy sat back in his chair, he nodded for her to continue.

“I just get so scared that one day I’m going to lay with a man and not come back, some of them are vile people.” She said, wincing at the memory of a past painful business deal.

“If I put you on regular business in the shops, would that help you?” He asked.

Evelyn scoffed at his offer.

“You know me Tommy, I have to keep moving. I have to do something more than sitting at a desk crunching numbers. I’m too wild for that.” She said smirking, her features resembling her aunt Polly at times.

Tommy smiled at the memory of her chasing rats with Ada, shooting at them with a revolver as they played in the streets near their house.

“I know. That’s why I’m planning on changing your job.” He said giving her his signature smile. Not many people saw it after the war, but when she’d returned from London when the boys had gotten back from France, it was the one thing he reserved for her, the one thing that made her realize she didn’t completely lose her brother.

“What are you planning? I can practically see your brain flipping over in that ugly head of yours.” She joked, lightly punching his arm.

“I’m wanting to hire some lighter muscle. Someone who can get info on the inside but still be able to hold their own. Ada’s been working on getting some inside information about her contacts she had with Freddie, and I think you could help me when we go on more blinder business.” He said.

“Do I look like I could hold my fucking own? Are you mad?” She asked.

“I’ve seen you shoot my enemies plenty of times, and you wrestled Arthur and I to the ground years ago. I’d hate to see what you could do now.” He said smirking.

“I’m sure with enough training I could still take you down.” She said looking up at her brother. His eyes tired and wrinkling at the edges.

“I wouldn’t doubt it. You’ve never liked being in one place and never liked people picking on us. If anything you’re the only one of us whose really held on to our gypsy roots aye?” He said, adjusting his coat as he stood up.

“You have a point.” She said, smirking as she got up as well.

“Are you drowning now?” He asked quietly, his eyes scanning hers.

She sighed and looked down, trying to think about all that’s upset her over the years since she’s been home.

“Not anymore.” She said, giving her brother a hug, taking him off guard at the sudden contact.

He gently placed his hands around her in a warm embrace as she kept herself there, not remembering when the last time was that she’d given one of her siblings a hug.

“Tell Polly thank you. And I guess since I still love you guys, thank you for checking in too. I accept the offer as well by the way.” She said releasing herself from him.

“Isn’t that what big brothers are for?” He asked as she walked towards the door.

“I guess.” She said chuckling as they both walked out of the Garrison.

“Aren’t you going to take care of the bastard upstairs?” She asked.

“I will once I take you back home. He’ll be gone before the morning.” He said, lighting a cigarette and driving off towards her apartment.

“I’m counting on that. Can’t have the coppers after me.” She said, looking back behind her as the Garrison shrunk in the distance.

“I’ve told you this before, you don’t have to worry about the cops. They’ll leave ya alone if they want to keep their eyes.” He said, driving as the sun set around them, the plans for the future of his business rolling around in his head the whole way there.

Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed, just send in an ask/message!) :)

@msbzowy, @nofckingfighting, @aranoburns, @sighonahurricane, @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes, @gaytommyshelby, @wowjeena, @fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby, @inglourious-imagines, @thebloodyshelbys, @tsolomons, @blinder-secrets, @reveparade, @shelby-fanatic, @ta-ka-shi-ma, @psychkunox, @peakyxtommy, @captivatedbycillianmurphy,@dreamwastakenx, @lovemissyhoneybee @thomashelbyswhore

#katiesrequests #peaky blinders #peaky blinders oneshots #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagines #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #thomas shelby x shelby!sister #shelby!sister #katieswiplist

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imnotasuperhero · 4 years

Text

I would lie and say you’re not in my mind.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

Type: Angst.

Summary: Reader finds herself alone, with no explanation as to where Wanda went. And life without her was a true nightmare she could only scape with not-so-nice coping mechanisms.

Wordcount: 2644

Warnings: Drug abuse, one suicidal thought and depression.

A/N: This is my submission for @jbbarnesnnoble writing challenge! I’m so sorry for the delay. Life and work got in the middle, leaving me drained to get some actual writing done. You can search this and other works with the tag #JBBNNMHAMChallenge which deals with different types of mental healt, as to raise awarenes about it.

A/N 2: Since it’s inspired in real events, I decided to twist this and give it a happy ending. People need to know there is hope. No matter how hard life becomes, you’ve got this and you shouldn’t suffer alone. Fight your fear and seek for help. I promise, life is worth living.

A huge than you to @marvelfansince08love for enduring her patience with my rants and mini meltdown about this monster. I could never thank you enough for puting up with my dumb ass, boo. I owe you a lot! <3

If you guys want more, I might have a plot for some kind of spin-off for this story. Just let me know. Also, criticism is welcomed.

"Miss Stark," one of the executives called your attention. "Your nose is bleeding."

Automatically, your fingers found your nose and yup, it was happening. Fucking hell.

Excusing yourself, you left the conference room with rapid steps to the closest bathroom, dismissing whoever you crossed on your way. You weren't new to this, after all.

Once you got the bleeding under control, you inspected yourself in the mirror. The reflection staring back at you was nothing like your old self. The circles under the eyes needed much more concealing and your smiles were forced. But at least you picked a black blouse today, which it'll do until you got a chance to go back home and change.

"Are you sure you don't want to go home?" Julia asked sheepishly.

"No. I'm capable of handling the rest of the day," you mumbled as you finished the last touches to your make-up.

"Mr. Stark could find-"

"Mr. Stark will find out shit," you cut your assistant. "This is just a sneeze that caused a vein to pop. Understood?" You could see how the woman in front of you shivered slightly and you almost laugh at it. You've become so pity.

"Y-yes, Miss. Is there anything else I can do?"

"No." You inspected yourself in the mirror once again before walking out. "Go over the rest of my day and make sure you send the informs to Stewart."

Fortunately, the day progressed smoothly with very few bumps. And none of them were about you, so you took it as a victory.

Kicking your high heels after closing the door behind you, you started to strip while walking towards the bathroom. The weekend was finally here, which meant you could wind out and enjoy your own company. After the latest events on Beto's, you made sure to lay low for a while. You didn't need another clingy bitch hanging from you all the time. You were just a gal wanting to have some release. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the middle of your calming bath, the sharp razor you kept for emergencies caught your eyes. 'God, it'd be so easy.' You thought to yourself. Just a little line in the right place would do it. The consuming pain would disappear and you'd be free. Hell, maybe you'd find her again in the afterlife.

Before you could continue the line of thoughts, your phone rang with your dad's personalized ringtone. Something you made sure of for when you were doing not-so-nice activities.

"Hey, dad." You absentmindedly sank deeper in the tub. The bubbly water covering up to under your jaw.

"Hi, Peanut." Tony's voice soothed your damaged soul the littlest bit. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"I'm fine," you answered nonchalantly. Lying has become second nature by now. "Living the life. How are you guys?"

"That's what I called you about. Pepper and I want you to come to spend the weekend here. We barely see you outside work so we thought it'd be nice to take advantage of the long weekend. Pleeeeaaase? With a cherry on top?" He finished in a child's voice and you felt your heart squeeze itself.

Truth was, you were tired of lying all the time. You were tired of faking and saying you were okay when you weren't.

"Okay," you sighed.

"Yay!" Yup, he was a child. "We'll get your room ready. We'll have your favorite."

You didn't know the exact moment you started crying, your dad going a mile a minute talking about his latest invention and how he'd love for you to help him figure out the last touches.

Hanging up, you finally let out the awaiting sobs. Memories of an easier -and happier- time plaguing your mind, making it harder and harder to breathe. Life without her sucked balls.

After drying yourself and throwing on a fresh pair of pajamas, you quickly fixed your bag for the weekend, knowing fully well you'll wake up with just the right spare time before you had to leave for your dad's.

The next morning, you woke up before your alarm went off, which would be fine if it weren't for Wanda appearing in your dreams. Promises of a better life and reaching milestones together, fanning the painful fire in your heart.

Walking to your stash, you retrieved the white powder, forming three consecutive lines on your nightstand. A small straw between your fingers ready to be used. You wouldn't be able to consume when you were at your dad's, so you better took your chance before it was too late. Odin knew you needed the boost.

Stopping at a random café a few blocks from your home, you quickly got yourself a black coffee and a muffin before hitting the pedal once again, changing the playlist to something more upbeat.

Soon enough, your mind drifted to the impromptu road trips you'd do with Wanda. Sometimes even a week-long trip. Just the two of you apart from the chaos of your lives.

Out on the road, it was only laughs, music, and fast food with the occasional make-out sessions. God, if you could, you'd live in the past forever.

Stepping out of your car, you couldn't help the smile that broke your face. Working in the same place as your dad didn't mean you've got to see him every day. And being honest, you were happy he offered you scape from her curse.

"Hi, dad." You answered once you reached him, returning his hug. And boy, didn't you felt safe in those strong arms. They never failed to soothe you.

After what seemed like hours of walking around your dad's property, you and Pepper came back to the house ready for a refreshing iced tea. But any trace of a nice calming bath dissipated away when you say your dad standing in the middle of the living room, his face stoic.

"What's this?" The quietness of his voice freezing your blood.

"I'm waiting, Y/N."

You cringed at your dad's voice. The disappointment showing in his eyes made you regret not checking before you grabbed a random bag for this trip.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me this is not what I think it is," he begged, showing you and Pepper the almost empty baggy between his fingers. And you ignored him. He already knew the truth, after all. "Say it," he growled.

"So the bleeding nose-"

"Screw you," you muttered, cutting Pepper mid-sentence.

"Hey! That's no way to talk to her,"

"You know what?" You walked to your dad, looking up to his eyes. "Yes, I'm an addict. Good job, Sherlock. Now you can get rid of me as you did with my mom. After all, you never wanted me in the first place, so why should it matter." You snapped with burning tears in your eyes. "There's no need to keep faking it anymore." You walked away, leaving them mouth agape, trying to process your words.

Plopping down on your bed, you couldn't help the feeling of failure igniting inside you. The tears in your eyes burning your eyes as they appeared, flowing down your cheeks as the sadness and emptiness became just too much to handle.

You didn't remember when was the last time you were genuinely happy. And it sucked that it depended on someone. It sucked and you despised it more than anything. But then again, Wanda was everything you'd need to live in this world. Always positive, with a smile so bright that could light up the darkest room. Her eyes? God, you loved losing yourself in those green orbs of hers in the afterglow. And now you had to live without all these little things that made you happy. All the little moments of joy were gone, tuning you into this sack of bones and flesh, with no expectations for life.

It wasn't till much later that night that you left your room, after ignoring your dad's callings.

Padding your way to the bar, you served yourself a whiskey. The burning on your troat a welcomed feeling. Your mind going back to her, as it was the normalcy since she dusted away, leaving you with thousands of questions and a hole in your heart that you knew well you could never fill again. How could you, when you knew she was it? how could you even try to patch it up, when you knew there was no one else like her?

One whiskey turned into 5 and you didn't know when you started to cry, considering you thought there were no tears left after all these years. But the strong hand on your shoulder made you snap from your pity party, hurriedly drying your tears. Crying was for the weak, and boy were you weak.

"I'm sorry," you drowned the last of your drink before looking up, mustering the best stoic face you could.

"You don't need to fake around me, Peanut. We're family," your dad poured you another drink as he got one himself.

"Look, what happened with your mother has nothing to do with you." He continued once he sat beside you. "And I would never leave you alone, Y/N. No matter how many headaches you give me." He joked but composed himself when you didn't react to it. "I- Pepper is pregnant. And we really want you in the baby's life. But.. Look, if there was a way to bring her back, I would. In a heartbeat. But Y/N, you have to understand, she wouldn't like this version of you. If not for yourself, do it for us,"

You wanted to speak, you wanted to answer him. But the lump in your throat was too big to swallow and the knife in your heart twisted when you saw your dad's eyes tearing up. And fuck did it hurt. To see him cry -for the first time- pained you like hell. And knowing you were the cause of those tears made you feel like you were the worst person alive.

"I-," you paused to gather your bearings, but your dad beat you to it.

"I know, Peanut," his arms surrounded you in that way that only him could.

"I promise you," he continued once you broke away. "One day, it will get easier. Those feelings will never fully go away, but it will get easier." He dried your tear-stained cheeks softly. "You are not alone. And she'll always be with you,"

And despite the grief eating you from the inside, you knew you had to live. For them. For her.

The next few months had been a true rollercoaster. You didn't know the abstinence would affect you so badly. And while others would have it much worse, you couldn't help the change of moods and the few tears you caused to those around you. Not to mention, the significant drop in your moods. But you also knew better. You've kept your word, and you hadn't touched it again.

Under Natasha's supervision, you got rid of every secret stash you had at both, your apartment and your office, and you deleted the number of your dealer. And even if sometimes it seemed like hell would manifest itself as Nat was your watcher, you couldn't be more glad because, admittedly, the woman had balls and she did knew how to bribe you, to the point that you'd even quit drinking even if it was more of a social addiction, in your case. That, mixed with Natasha's friendship and support -as well as those around you- and the birth of Morgan, your little sister had you believing once more, even if you knew you'd never get to be the same person you once were.

The little bundle of joy had come to this world with a few rays of sunshine for you, finally opening your eyes and making you realize that there was hope. Even if you never saw her again, life was worth living and you'd live it for her at your best capacity.

So when Pepper asked you to babysit Morgan for a few days, considering she couldn't bring a 2 months old baby with her, you accepted in a heartbeat.

But as you were awoken by a fussing Morgan, after an eventful night in which you barely slept, you realized this might've not been your brightest idea.

Inhaling deeply, you got up and walked to her room, picking her up from her crib and rocking her as you made your way to the kitchen. Babies were a fucking clock. Which only served to add to your decision of never having kids.

If you were on the verge of tears most of the time, wishing deeply for her parents to come back so you could have time for yourself, you knew you'd be mental if you had to live through this for the rest of your life.

Your ears catching the front door opening made you stop mid singing, turning around as you walked to the hushed words as you feed a calmed down Morgan just to stop dead in your tracks when you saw her. The only reason you stood still, was the baby in your arms.

Your eyes scanned the room, looking for a sign that this was just a dream. That the image of your girlfriend was just a projection of your mind, like so many other times before during these 5 years since she disappeared from your arms. But the silence surrounding you all and 8 pairs of eyes inspecting you made you realize that this wasn't a dream.

The cries of Morgan took you all from your reverie and soon, Pepper was by your side, taking the baby from your arms before kissing the top of your head, something she always did whenever you felt unsettled.

"Peanut-"

"Is she real?" You questioned as you scrutinized a fidgety Wanda, who stood by the door, ready to run away if needed.

Natasha could sense your turmoil growing with every single second that passed and soon enough you felt a strong pair of arms supporting you, ready to catch you if you fell.

"She's here, Maliska. We brought her back," she spoke quietly, making sure you understood her words.

The wild thoughts on your mind got you walking towards her. The need to touch her and prove yourself that she was back, got your fingers itching. You could feel the blood running in your ears and you shaking steps as you got closer to who you thought was gone forever, leaving you empty and moving through life like a zombie.

The choke that broke through you when your hand cupped her cheek got you smiling as tears rolled down with every erratic thump of your heart.

"You're here," you whispered, afraid of breaking the spell you've found yourself into.

But you couldn't stay in that thought for long because an intimately familiar pair of arms surrounded you as Wanda threw yourself at you, hiding her face on the crook of your neck.

Feeling her hot breath against your skin was all you needed to finally give in and hold her with all you had, knowing that she was here; with you.

You didn't know how long you both stood there, holding each other and basking in the calmness that surrounded you. All your previous tormenting thoughts dissipated in that exact moment. Wanda was back and you found the hole in your heart start to fill itself.

"Hi, Printsessa," Wanda murmured against your neck, kissing her way up to your jaw, peppering your face with kisses before she finally kissed your lips. And boy, did your knees trembled.

After 5 long years, the lips you've got used to kissing whenever you pleased were once against yours, igniting all the love and hope and good things you got to feel once upon a time.

You can find the continuation, here (:

Taglist: @summergeezburr @wannabe-fic-reader @natasha-danvers @jumbojamba47 @rooskaya-yelena @sananabdliw @aaron-despair @username23345 @nate-the-dreamer @higherfurther-romanova

#wanda maximoff x reader #I-#lkhfkjgfkjgaf #my writing #jbbnnmhamchallenge #mental health tw #feel free to scream at me

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kippykasey · 3 years

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Snowdrop Chpt 3

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 5033

Series Summary: Bringing Zemo in to help fight against the rise of the new group of super soldiers brings in a new, yet famailiar face into the mix.

Chapter Summary: Sharon uses her contacts to find out information about Nagel. Meanwhile, Bucky and (Y/N) do a little catching up. Sharon's lead sends them to the docks to confront the man behind the serum.

Chapter Warnings: Episode level violence. Brief mentions of injuries and blood.

A/N: So this chapter took me a while and it kind of took a mind of it's own. There is a character mentioned in this chapter I can not take credit for and that will be 'Ghost'. Credit for that character goes to @darke-15 who is one of my favorite authors with an amazing story in which reader is 'Ghost', so big thanks for letting me borrow your character for a chapter!

Disclaimer: All languages that are not English were provided by Google translator with the translations following in bolden italics. Gifs used were found under the gif tab provided by tumblr.

Catch up on Snowdrop here: (1) (2)

“Well this is too perfect.” A female voice came from the hooded figure. Zemo turned around, The female sounding figure, while pointing the guy towards Zemo, reached up and pulled down the hood. The face revealed was familiar, at least to most of the group. “Drop it, Zemo.” Zemo set down the gun he had in hand while Bucky stepped forward looking confused. “Sharon?”

The blonde woman stepped forward, gun raised pointed at Bucky. (Y/N) moved to step forward but Sam grabbed her arm to keep her in place. “You cost me everything.” She mentioned in a low voice. “Sharon, wait,” something was kicked as she approached the four person group as Sam tried to explain what was going on to the woman, “Someone recreated the super-soldier serum and Zemo had a lead.” Her head nodded to the side in understanding. “That explains why you guys are here. And Selby’s dead.” The woman’s eyes looked at Bucky like she blamed him. “So what are you doing here?” Bucky asked and his tone was almost gentle as he spoke to the woman. “I stole Steve’s shield, remember? I also took the wings for your ass,” The gun moved to point at Sam then to Bucky before landing on Zemo again, “so that you could save his ass from his ass.” (Y/N) who was pretty hidden from Sharon’s view was smiling at her comment.

“I didn’t have the Avengers to back me up. So I’m off the grid in Madripoor.” Sharon shrugged her shoulders finally lowering the gun. “Don’t blow smoke. I was on the run too.” Sam’s town was low and serious as his attention was focused on Sharon. “Was. Is. Big difference. I don’t speak to my family anymore. I can’t. My father doesn’t know where I am.” Sharon spoke and this whole conversation was starting to confuse the other woman who wasn’t around for the events that were being discussed. “Listen, Sharon was it? We need your help blondie.” (Y/N) tells her as she steps up into sight between Zemo and Bucky. Sharon looked her over as she let out a chuckle. “Please.” Bucky adds stepping up next to his old teammate. Sharon let out a sigh as she shook her head slightly. “This isn’t over. I have a place up in High Town. You’ll be safe there.”

Bucky, without asking or offering, scooped the nurse next to him up into his arms. “Don’t argue, you kicked off your shoes and I’m not letting you cut your feet on something.” The rumble of his chest reminded her of a time where the only person she could trust was him. She simply nods her head, glancing over the leather jacket to see Sam push Zemo forward. The group made their way to Sharon’s car that she drove over to her place in High Town.

“Looks like breaking all those laws is treating you well.” Sam comments as he takes in the place the blonde woman was staying. “I thought if I had to hustle, I might as well enjoy the life of a real hustler. You know how much I’ll get for a real Monet?” She gestured to one of the paintings on display as she talked. “Ey easy. Deactivate your hustle mode. You sell fake Monets.” Sam tried to correct her but Zemo cut him off. “No, she means real. This gallery is specialized in stolen artwork. Monet. Van Gogh. Classics.” Y/N nods from Bucky’s side. “It’s true, Wilson.” She confirms before Bucky adds his own confirmation, “You know, half the artwork in museums like the Louvre is fake. Real stuff sits in places like this.”

“Okay guys, I see what you’re doing here. You’re more worldly than good old Sam.” The southern man spoke, pulling out his phone to google the truth. Deciding to catch up with Sharon and Zemo who had kept walking, the lone female of the group giggled as she passed by Sam. “Yeah. What’s google say?” Bucky asked, patting his friend’s shoulder as he passed following his old partner. “No shit.” Sam muttered before Sharon called back to them to change before her clients arrived in an hour. Sharon left the men with a cart of clothes before dragging the other female with her to another room to change.

Sharon led them back into the main room where the three men were left. She commented on Sam's change of clothes, or middle of change considering he was still shirtless. Y/N, now dressed in a navy blue dress pant-suit that was surprisingly comfortable and easy to move in, moved to sit on the couch next to Bucky. She reached over to smooth out the lapels of the black jacket the former soldier now wore. She could hear Sam questioning Sharon about why she never came back and how Sharon would be locked up if she returned. Yet hearing Sharon talk badly about the shield drew the nurse’s attention to her rambling about hero business being hypocrisy. “He knows. And not so deep down.” Zemo comments holding a drink in his hand. “By the way, how is the new Cap?” Sharon asked making Bucky’s eye’s roll as he replied, “Don’t get me started.”

Sharon scoffs as she moved towards the couch. “Please. You buy into all that stars and stripes bullshit.” The silent nurse shifts uncomfortably as she listens to the conversation. “Before you were his pet psychopath you were Mr. America! Cap’s best friend.” Bucky could probably feel the tension growing between the two females that were now seated on either side of him. “Wow. She’s kind of awful now.” The 106 year old man’s face was blank as he glanced up at Sam who was adjusting the neck of a shirt deciding it best to change topic. “Karli Morgenthau and at least seven others have taken the serum.” Sharon shakes her head at the statement “You guys really should steer clear of all of this for your own safety.”

Y/N stands up rubbing her palms over her hips before stepping around the couch to stand behind Bucky. “Sure there is a risk sweetheart but until I… we find out who cracked the code,” She started correcting herself as she spoke. Although his face was as blank as ever a metal hand reached up and back to rest on the hand just next to his shoulder. It wasn’t much but the nonverbal comfort that was given was enough. “We got a name,” the dark head of hair leaned back till the nurse could see the blue eyes she had known for years, “Wilfred Nagel.” Sharon’s eyebrows scrunched together before she moved off the couch, “Nagel works for the Power Broker.”

Sam bargained for Sharon’s help in exchange for clearing her name. Meanwhile the nurse was behind Bucky muttering, “We don’t really need her. Just give us a few hours and we can do it ourselves.” The small tug of a smirk against the stubble jawline of Barnes could be seen before he shook his head slightly. “Trust, doc.” His voice rumbled like low thunder as he spoke to her. She was never one to jump full into a plan without looking at all possibilities, which is why Steve always liked her opinion back in the war.

“They cleared the bionic staring machine, and he killed almost everybody he’s met.” Sam’s comment on Bucky drew the nurse’s attention back to the main conversation in the room. “I heard that.” Bucky comments as the nurse moves back around the couch to sit back down next to her dark haired friend. “I don’t trust charity.” Sharon mentions. The nurse groans dramatically, making the room turn towards her. “She’s as stubborn as Peggy. Look toots, it’s not a hand out. You’re doin’ a job. You’re going to help us and in exchange bird-man is gonna get your name cleared.” Sharon took that as a deal and agreed to help using her sellers as a network to find out what she can, leaving instructions to lay low and blend in before she heads to the front to start greeting guests.

The four still sitting in the back didn’t move for a moment. Zemo was sipping from a tumbler, probably a whiskey, which Sam moved over to the other two. “So what did you mean earlier about you and Bucky being seen together?” The room again lulled into silence before the woman hummed and looked from her hands to Sam. “In the days of the Winter Soldier, seeing us together meant death, if you didn’t die that day you would die in a year. Seeing just me represented mercy, if you saw me alone the chances were the Winter Soldier wouldn’t kill you. That’s why I was Snowdrop. The meaning and folklore around the flower was my duty, besides keeping the soldier in prime condition”

“She also was his partner. On a mission if she was not nursing an injury it was her job to cover his right side, the side deemed weaker without the metal arm. She was trained to stay out of his way but move in tandem with him, like magnets.” Zemo added to the woman’s explanation. The nurse stood up from the couch. “It’s in the past. I am not Snowdrop. Just like Bucky is not the Winter Soldier. I’ll see you gentlemen out there.” She left the three men in the room alone. Sam turned his head towards Bucky silently asking if there was more to the story. The man shook his head pushing up from the couch. “Come on, we should blend in.”

The music was definitely not anything Bucky or Y/N were used to. The two war vets met by the bar, both nursing a tumbler of whiskey over ice. “Where did you go after you got out?” If it wasn’t from years of memorizing the tone and every aspect of the voice talking to her (Y/N) might not have heard him over the music. Her eyes glanced up at his as she stepped around to his left side, a nonverbal ask of permission to touch his arm. The man let out a soft grunt, raising the glass to his lips. Sliding into the spot next to him and placing his arm around her waist for casual onlookers she leaned up to talk.

“They were going to use me to get you back, Zemo let me out when he found out HYDRA’s next plan for us. They were going to force Project Chroma onto me...us. I was to be transferred to the lab when my escape happened. First thing I did was go home. Security sure has changed in the years. I saw the war monument in Washington. I got to see the tribute made out to Rogers at the Smithsonian where you were mentioned." She bumped her hip gently against his and even caught a small smile before it was covered by the glass of whiskey. She took her own sip before continuing, walking with the man as he led the way around the outer perimeter of the room. "Most action I got to see since my escape besides what is going on now was the slight trouble I got in with my new hacking hobby and helping someone." Bucky's blue eyes glanced down at her. "I shouldn't be surprised you always were a bit of a tech nerd. What about this person you helped? That's dangerous for you right now until you get pardoned." His hand brushed over her lower back as she turned to face him. "Now listen here James I made an oath when I became a medic, I was going to help everyone I could if I was able to so that's what I did. Now hush or you won't get the story before Sam tracks you down." From the way her eyes darted across the dance floor Barnes knew she had a location on all of their friends. He nods his head pressing his lips into a firm line.

"Zemo called me. Needed me to be ready for a job he was doing. Flew me out to Vienna, Austria. I was there the day you were framed for that bombing Buck." She rubbed a hand over her face thinking back on the day and how worried she got for him after that day. "I was okay, sugar. Now tell me about this kid you helped." Bucky soothed pulling her closer the way his arm felt around (Y/N) was always comforting to her. Maybe it was how safe he made her feel and knowing the damage that arm could do. Her fingers brushed over the metal plating of his left hand.

"They sped up on this bike, jumped off it and were heading straight for the building like they knew what was going to happen and needed to warn everyone. They never made it inside. The explosion, it...it seemed to trigger something and they froze. Just standing there. Something fell from above, a piece of concrete you know the kind with the support pipes, it caught them on the way down. Person was unconscious and more debris was falling. I did the only thing I could think of, took them back to my hotel a block away, away from curious eyes. They woke up when I was laying out the first aid kit.

I nearly got punched in the face if it wasn't for working with you. Stubborn kid that one was, laceration from shoulder to inner elbow on the right side, dislocated shoulder, and there were already some previous injuries. The kid called themselves 'Ghost' so I told them to call me 'Grace'. Fixed them up and sent them on their way with the car I was using to get out of there. After that I went to Visit graves.."

Bucky was quiet for a moment before ducking his head down towards her ear. "Hearing someone call you Grace got to you didn't it?" He asked as his mind went back to how he felt when Steve called him 'Bucky'. "Amazing Grace, Ghost said the whole thing when they left. I didn't think anyone would remember me as Amazing Grace after the war."

"Wait, you're Amazing Grace from Steve's war stories?" Sam's voice asked in shock over the music drawing the faux couple out of their own world to let him join. "Best nurse you may ever meet. Plus she always sang for the injured soldiers. Got the nickname Amazing Grace because that was her go to song and some of the men started to think she was an angel." Bucky looked down at the blushing nurse next to him, eyes swimming with pride and fondness for her, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. Sam definitely took note of the change of attitude the grumpy old man always seemed to have after spending time with the woman who was so casually wrapped up next to the man that Sam wouldn't have believed it if he wasn't seeing it. The nurse patted the tall man's chest a few times before pointing into the crowd of partiers to where Zemo was doing his own dance.

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】

Sharon was able to find the man they were looking for but by the time the guest had cleared and the trip to the docks was made it was light outside. Small conversation was made as Sharon led the way. With word that she would keep watch Sharon sent them inside after handing over an ear piece to each of them. Sam opened the door to the container. Bucky and (Y/N) exchanged a look and there was something in his eyes that she knew meant that he was worried for her. The container was empty upon entry. Yet that was soon disproven by Zemo and his flashlight finding a secret door within the back wall. Zemo pushed open the door as the other three drew a gun. Sam moved to the font of the line followed by Zemo. Bucky kept an eye on the back with (Y/n) between him and the German man.

Music was playing, masking the sound of their entry. The hidden lab was dimly lit with fluorescent light casting a gray tinge over everything. The nurse took a silent deep breath as she took in the lab around her. She could remember the day Erskine brought her in see him work on the serum used on Steve Rogers. She could remember the failed attempts she had in the HYDRA labs and the even worse side affects her body went through upon testing. All the flashes of the serum in her brain and the trouble it caused made her uneasy for a moment as she took a small step closer to Barnes, his eye catching the movement and moving to cover her.

Sam and Bucky lead the way towards Nagel while (Y/N) stays at Zemo’s side. Bucky pulled the needle from the playing record making the music stop. Nagel turned from his workstation to find out why his music stopped only to let out a gasp at the sight of Sam standing there with a gun. “Dr. Nagel?”

“Who are you? What do you want?” The doctor questioned quickly, probably nervous. Sam rose his head slightly and his voice was gentle when he answered. “We know you created the super-soldier serum.” That did not trigger a positive response as the doctor stepped forward ordering him to “Get out of my lab.” The doctor walked past Sam as if to escort him out but froze upon seeing the former Winder Soldier standing there, dark ice blue eyes locked onto him. “You know who he is, right?” Sam’s voice was still calm as ever even as the doctor stepped back away from the direction of Barnes and turned towards the other blocked direction where Zemo and the nurse stood. “This is Baron Zemo. I know you’ve heard of him too, right? Maybe even her?”

The doctor was escorted by Sam to the more open area. Zemo followed him as (Y/N) stepped up to the workstation to take a look at just what they were making the serum with. “You seem like a smart guy. So you better become conversational real quick.” A slight rattle drew her attention back to the doctor and the interrogation that would soon occur. “How about a counter proposal?” The doctor offered, “Make me a better offer and I’ll talk.” Sharon’s hushed voice came through the earpiece warning them of some company arriving outside. The lone female in the lab stepped forward into the doctor’s line of sight. She moved forward with a sweet smile on her face before reaching up to grab the collar of his shirt to force him down into a chair. “Look here doctor, I’m a pretty patient lady, but if you don’t start talking he’ll start shooting. Got it? Now I’m not too happy about you messing around with my serum.” There was a brief glance towards Bucky as she spoke to the doctor, a firm tone hardening her voice. She didn’t ever realize how she had referred to the serum as hers, which in a sense it could be after Erskine’s death she was the only one that knew how to do it.

When Nagel didn’t respond but just glared at her a warning shot was fired off behind his head before the gun moved back to pointing at the side of his head. “Okay, okay. I was brought into HYDRA’s Winter Soldier program to pick up her work, after the five failed test subjects in Siberia. When HYDRA fell I was recruited by the CIA. They had blood samples from an American test subject with semi-stable traces of serum in his system.” (Y/N) listened, taking a small step back just barely catching a glimpse of a small head shake from Bucky as he looked at Sam. “After much labor, I was able to isolate the necessary compounds in his blood. I was a god-” The woman standing in front of the doctor raised her gun aiming it right between his eyes as she cut him off, “You are not a god.” Buck made a nonverbal command for Sam to move over towards the nurse who seemed to be taking this harder than anticipated. “I did what no other scientist since Erskine was able to do.” The doctor completely ignored the woman as he spoke to Sam. Zemo moved from the woman’s side to walk around and look at the equipment in the lab. “But mine was going to be different. No clunky machines,” A dig at the radiation chamber used to help Steve, “or jacked up bodies.” A dig at Bucky. “Mine was going to be subtle, optimized, perfect.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at Nagel. She wanted to punch him, it was almost like an insult to herself the way he spoke about her work. She had been there right next to Erskine the day Steve received the serum. She had given Rogers the morphine before he entered the chamber. She had read over Erskine’s destroyed notes so many times the day before because she was scared for the test subject’s safety. Then when HYDRA captured her and she was forced to start recreating it she refused to try it on anyone but herself. The amount of times a HYDRA agent found her near death was probably close to a dozen before she perfected it enough to start inducing it on Bucky. Sergeant Barnes was so weak the first time she gave him a shot of the serum, a test to see if his body could handle it. When she was contacted and brought back, it was a life or death situation that led to her giving the remaining required dose of the serum to Bucky.

“How have we never heard of this?” Sam’s voice brought her back to the present. Her eyes glanced over at the other super soldier and he was already looking at her. Bucky had seen her far off expression. He almost wished she was outside helping Sharon. “Because before I was able to complete my work, I turned to dust. Then when I returned, it was five years later, and the program had been abandoned so I came here. The Power Broker was more than happy to fund the recreation of my work.” The doctor explained the woman in the room taking a step back to recollect herself. She really wanted to put a bullet through this Power Broker at the moment. “How many vials did you make?” She asked as calmly as possible, trying to match Sam but she could hear how annoyed she was. “Twenty. Karli Morgenthau stole those, so.. Could only imagine what the Power Broker has planned for that poor girl.”

“Where is Karli now?” Sam asked as the nurse looked over her shoulder at Zemo. The two made eye contact and in that moment a silent understanding was passed between the two. “I don’t know but a couple of days ago she called and asked if I could help someone named Donya Madani. Poor woman has tuberculosis. Typical of overpopulation in displacement camps like that.” Nagel explains as Zemo came back to rejoin the circle. “What happened to her?” Sam’s question didn’t get a direct answer since the doctor didn’t care to find out since it wasn’t his business. “Is there any serum in this lab?” Bucky questioned, looking down at the man. His jaw clenched and unclenched as he waited for the response. When the man did nothing but look at him Barnes pushed the barrel of his gun to the side of the man’s head earning a quick ‘No’.

“Now what?” Bucky wonders aloud looking towards the other three, not moving his gun from the man’s head until he sees Sharon enter. “Guys, we’re seriously outta time here.” Sharon insists, her entrance being just enough of a distraction for Zemo to raise the gun he had found strapped under one of the lab tables and shoot Doctor Nagel. Sam pinned Zemo to the wall as Sharon knocked the gun out of the baron’s hand. (Y/N) quickly moved to the doctor, the impact of the shot having knocked him back in the chair and falling backwards. “What did you do?” Sharon asked in a panicked voice. The nurse checked for a pulse but the man was dead. “He’s gone.”

An explosion broke out as something shot into the lab. Bucky grabbed onto his old friend/partner and covered her from the blast as he dove out of the way. An emergency alarm sounded out against the slight ring caused from the explosion. Groans came from everyone as they recollected themselves to get up and move. Bucky and (Y/N) were the first to move onto their hands and knees given the enhancement provided from the serum. “You good?” Bucky breathed out as he struggled to get up. “M’fine.” She muttered using something near her to push herself up before helping him stand. Things were shaking, glass items clinking together. “This place is going to blow, we have to move fast.” She urged Bucky forward as she began to move both of them looking back at beakers of chemicals. “Anyone see Zemo?” Sam wheezed before (Y/n) helped him up from the ground as the chivalrous Barnes helped Sharon up. “Let’s go.” He ordered. The lab explosion happened right behind the two super soldiers that kept the other two moving.

The four now, without the sign of Zemo, were now outside where the company was waiting for the smoke to clear to take fire. “All right, wait for my signal!” Bucky instructed but went unheard as bullets started to ping off the shipping container around them. Sam shot back as he moved in a different direction. Sharon and (Y/N) followed Bucky around the other way, guns at the ready. It sounded like fireworks with the amount of bullets being shot through the air. Only a few actually hit a target. Sam was taking cover already when the three arrived, Sharon moving to cover Wilson as he reloaded. “And you like living here?” Sam asked in an exasperated yell to Sharon to be heard over the gun fire that sounded way too much like a war field. “It’s not terrible.” The woman behind Sharon scoffed at the answer as she and Bucky shot at targets in opposite directions, each covering the other’s blind spot.

Bucky’s gun clicked a few times proving it was empty. He let out a short frustrated yell, something (Y/N) wasn’t used to coming from him since way back in the days of the Howling Commandos when his gun would jam. He rushed back under better coverage calling over to Sam, “I thought we were going left?” Sam glanced over his shoulder for a moment to the man yelling at him.

“You went the wrong way!” Sam points to him as he yelled back

“I cleared the way!”

“I came out first. You’re supposed to follow me.”

“And where are we now?”

“Guys, not the time!” Sharon called back to them from where she was still shooting nearing the end of her ammo. From across from her (Y/n) was in the same situation as she called back. “We can sign you two up for couple’s therapy later!” The nurse called back completely unaware of the therapy session the two have already been through together. “I’m out!” Sharon called, ducking back out of direct fire. A moment later the other female ducked back too, “So am I.” The two men are still arguing over who should have led. None of them were prepared for a second explosion. Recovering from having to quickly duck and cover from the flames they all looked out to see a masked Zemo jumping into action taking care of the remaining men. Bucky tapped on Sharon’s back, “Go.” Sharon jumped into action and made a run for it, “Come on. Let’s go.”

There were still bullets being fired rapidly as they wove through the maze of shipping containers. Opening up an empty container to hide inside didn’t help as they were quickly located and shot at. Sam and Sharon were already inside. With his left hand Bucky broke off the metal lock bar off the container while pushing (Y/n) inside with his right. He used the bar to knock one man unconscious before turning, raising the bar like a spear and throwing it with the left arm with enough force to pin another person through their shoulder to a shipping container. “Come on, let's go.” Sam grabbed onto Bucky’s jacket pulling him into the container.(Y/n) walked through the dark metal box to the other side. Bucky bit the other doors with his metal fist before she could even lift her leg to break it open. As they stepped out of the container screeching tires alerted them to a fast approaching vehicle. Zemo rounded the corner in a supercharged Pontiac Firebird.

“You’re going back to jail.” Was the first thing out of Sam’s mouth as they all glared at the man. “Do you want to find Karli or not?” Zemo asked, turning his head away and then back to them. “He’s right. We need him.” Bucky looks at Sam as he helps (Y/N) into the back seat of the car. “There’s three of us and at least twenty of them.” The super soldier says as he gets into the car himself. “Fine but if you try that shit again.” Sam’s voice was hard as he pointed at Zemo while climbing into the back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Zemo states as Bucky turns to glare at him.

“Well that was one hell of a reunion.” Sharon sighs, closing the car door for them. Sam tried to bring her back again but she refused to go without the pardon. That was when they parted ways with Sharon Carter. Sharon walked one way while Zemo drove off in the other heading back towards the airstrip to leave Mandripoor behind them.

#Snowdrop #bucky x reader #bucky x f!reader #fatws fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n

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loving-daisy · 3 years

Text

Cry For Me | George Weasley x Reader

Masterlist | Cry For Me Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Eiffel For You

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: fluff, gossiping, insults, threatening, surprises, confessions, secrets getting spilled

"I’ve been yours since the beginning.”

The golden hour visibly announces its presence on the elite Slytherin 5th year. Her facial features are illuminated by the descending sun, as she faces one of the most mischievous Gryffindor in Hogwarts. The couple stands at the snow covered ground, eye to eye as they wrap themselves in each other’s warm embrace.

“Y/N Icestone, I fancy you.” George repeated for the second time.

The girl beams at him, her wide smile revealing her pearly-white teeth, making the ginger’s fluttering heart beat faster. Y/N played with the ginger hairs situated at the back of the boy’s neck, nodding a few times. “George Weasley, I fancy you.” She answered.

Once again, both of their lips were pressed against each other for a short passionate kiss.

“Be my girlfriend.” The boy muttered after they pulled away, a small gap between them remaining, together with their arms around each other.

“Is that an order or a question?” Y/N questioned, an eyebrow raised towards the ginger, trying to hide the giddiness in her voice. Similar to the scenario after the twins’ holiday party, she examined the look on the boy’s face.

George only looked at her, his face an expression of expectation and hesitance, his heart beating from all the adrenaline as his mind became full of different scenarios as to what the Slytherin will answer. Searching his eyes, the girl only saw hope, admiration, and fear, to which she was pleased as the boy really did seem to have his eyes only for her,

She pressed a hand on his cheek, carefully caressing the visible freckles as he leaned into her hand, still not breaking the eye contact. Y/N gave his rosy lips a peck, the bright smile on their faces returning.

“I’ve been yours since the beginning.”

____________________

The following Monday, it seems like the controversial Slytherin-Gryffindor relationship rose from its dying noise, as it was temporarily replaced by the news about the first wizard to ever escape Azkaban, Sirius Black, getting nearer and nearer the wizarding school. The news of the elite stone-cold heart Slytherin taking her relationship with the warm and funny Gryffindor to the next level was now the talk of the whole school.

Those sorted in the house of Salazar were divided to 70-30. 70% believing that the girl doesn’t really have feelings for the boy and that it was just a scheme to make him fall in love with her. 30% believed that her feelings were genuine, ashamed of the fact that the girl from the noble family associated herself with the blood-traitor, Weasleys.

Those from the same house of the ginger were surprised. Amazed even. Majority giving even more respect to the notorious twins for being able to steal a girl from their opposing house’s heart. However, those of the house of Godric had clashing opinions as well. Some girls were envious, defeated, and heart broken, seeing as both of their lovely twins were off the single market (Although Fred was still single, everyone knew who he had his eyes focused on). Some were happy, but for different reasons. Some thought that it was just another scheme to trash on the rival house while a couple were genuinely happy for George, finally getting a partner after how many moments of being his twin’s wingman. But some were reluctant and scared that they were the ones being played by the Slytherins.

Meanwhile, the majority from the house of Helga were happy for George and Y/N, thinking that the rivalry between the two houses would finally evaporate. In the house of Ravenclaw, most fully believed that the two wouldn’t last long, betting that they’d probably wake up from their trance and realize that they’re too different from one another.

Back when it was only Y/N Icestone that was being talked about, the girl never gave attention to the big mouths as they only said all the good things about her, praised her and envied her, for being the next heir to the Icestone family’s wealth. Back when it was only their friendship that was being talked about, her ears only perked up only for her to shoot daggers towards those who questioned her decision. But now that their romantic choices were being talked about, it seems as if the Slytherin’s patience deflated like a balloon. Always opening her mouth to give the big mouths a piece or two of her mind.

“Have you heard? It seems like Icestone and that one Weasley boy are officially together!” A boy wearing green robes, who seemed to be in a higher year than Y/N, informed the rest of the students present in their little circle.

“What?!” A girl from the house of Rowena asked in disbelief.

This time, a different girl from Ravenclaw spoke. “It’s true! I heard this girl from Hufflepuff talking about how she saw the both of them snogging during that one Hogsmeade weekend!”

“She could do so much better, honestly.” The boy from Y/N’s house muttered, fully not aware how the subject of their conversation was close, pretending to read her potions book as she consciously eavesdropped after hearing that they were talking about them.

“Both of them, actually.” The Ravenclaw said, causing her to turn her eyes towards her, memorizing her distinct looks as she faked a cough, making sure that she was heard. The three Slytherins froze on their spot, recognizing the voice, while the two Ravenclaws seemed like their eyes were about to pop out of their head after seeing who the cough belonged to.

Y/N moved her eyes back to her open book, feigning a smile. “Having fun talking about other people’s lives?”

“Icestone-” one of the Slytherins spoke. Y/N slammed her book shut, rising to her feet as she gave the group a glare. “Don’t you have other things to do instead of gossiping about me?” She spat, making the group become fearful.

Y/N examined them one by one. 1 group, 5 people, 2 girls from Ravenclaw, and 3 Slytherin boys that she recognized after a few moments of searching her head. She crossed her arms, smirking at those at the same house as hers. “Let’s see, Heather, Hampton, and Henderson. The H’s of year 7 Slytherin. H for humiliation, as it seems like all of you still ask for some Ravenclaw's help to do your homework for you.” She insulted before turning her attention towards the girls. “How about you, girls? Is your life too boring for you, that you have to speak about mine instead?”

All in the circle had a very unpleasing look on their faces, however, unable to say something to defend themselves from Icestone, who was fuming on the inside but very cold outside. She feigned a frown, pretending to be completely disgusted. “Close your mouths, sweet hearts. Your mouths really stink.” Y/N stated before walking away.

____________________

A few hours before the Great hall serves its mouth-watering feast, the fresh and hot couple of Hogwarts were found to be seated under a tree, with the tall and ginger Gryffindor presenting a big orange box to the doe-eyed Slytherin.

Y/N took a hold of the neatly wrapped box, carefully shaking it from left to right in an attempt to figure out what its contents were. Her eyebrows went close to each other, her forehead creasing as she faced the smiling boy. “What’s this?” She asked.

The smile on George’s face didn’t leave his face as he gave the girl a small shrug as an answer. “Open it.”

The Slytherin turned her attention back to the box, carefully unwrapping the black ribbon before muttering “I bet you didn’t tie this yourself. It’s too neat.”, getting a snort and a “you’re so smart.” from the ginger.

After getting the ribbon out of the way, Y/N examined the box, her heart rapidly beating in expectancy and anticipation. She got rid of the lid that blocks the content from her view before wrapping her hands around her boyfriend’s neck. “You got me a scarf? That’s so sweet of you, George. Thank you!” She cooed, placing a small sweet kiss on the ginger’s cheek.

George laughed, the weight on his shoulders being lifted, thankful for the girl’s joyful reaction. He placed his hands on the sides of Y/N’s face, pressing his lips on her forehead. “Yeah, Ron bragged to me the other day that he was able to enter the Slytherin dungeons when he was in second year - ”

“What?!” Y/N cut off the ginger, shocked by the delivered information. “How did he do that?”

“He wouldn’t tell!” George exclaimed. “But he did tell me that the dungeons get really cold even if it isn’t winter.”

“So I got you this because you’re really cold easily. At least that’s what you say to me when you blush because of my compliments.” He said, giving the girl a wink that made her groan in response. George only gave a sheepish smile before continuing. “It's not made with the finest tendered wool but it was made with love! My mum...she knitted it herself! I just thought that you needed something extra to keep you warm in case you’re cold. It’s not much but —“

Y/N, once again cut him off, this time by placing a finger on the boy’s lips before whispering “Shut up, George. I love it! I really do! Thank you, really.”

George removed the girl’s hand in front of him. He placed his forehead against hers, kissing her nose. “I’m glad you love it, Y/N.” He said, matching the softness and tone of Y/N’s voice.

____________________

A few hours later, the couple found themselves in their usual midnight escapade, seated at a soft blanket at the Astronomy tower as they looked up the various stars and constellations enveloped in the night sky.

“Ooh~ Chocolate chip cookies! How did you know that these were my favorite?” Y/N questioned as she divulged the snack, her doe-like eyes sparkling as she looked up the ginger. Truth is, Fred and George thought that it would be a good idea to head to the kitchens to ask for the house elves for some snacks. Fred’s reason was completely different from George’s as he meant to bring apple pie for him, Lee, and Ron’s friends for a little game. George just took the cookies because he thought that the pie would not pass as edible once he took it out of his robes. And no, George did not, in any way or form, know that the Slytherin loves her cookies.

“Of course, I know. I am George afterall.” He answered, grabbing a piece for himself as well. As he carefully munched on his snack, he took a look at Y/N’s glistening features under the stars. If she looked gorgeous under the sunset, she still looked good under the stars. Her eyes were illuminated with sparks, as if it were stars. George also noticed the hairdo of the girl, her hair put together by the black ribbon that came from his gift.

“I like what you did with your hair.” He complimented.

Y/N carefully stroked her locks, twirling some on her finger. “Thanks. I actually used the ribbon that came from your gift.”

“Very resourceful, you are.” “I’m a Slytherin. It’s part of our nature.”

After a few moments of silence, a thought popped out the girl’s head. “So…” Y/N began. “it seems like Slytherin and Gryffindor are gonna rival once again in the championship match for quidditch.”

George replied. “Yup! Reckon I’ll get your support?”

Y/N gave him a teasing smile, sipping on her glass of milk. “Oh you have my support, alright. At least, only you.” She said, shrugging smugly. George furrowed his eyebrows, crossing his arms against his chest. “Not Gryffindor?”

“No! I’m not a Gryffindor, I’m a Slytherin!”

“But your boyfriend is in Gryffindor!” George argued.

“Boyfriend,” Y/N repeated, smiling. “I love the ring of that.”

“I love you.” The ginger blurted out, taking the girl a back. “What?” She asked as if her ears deceived her, wanting to confirm what spoke out of the boy’s mouth.

“What?” George repeated, an innocent look on his face.

“You said something.” Y/N commented. “Yes, I did.” George answered.

“So…” The boy began, changing the subject. “Are you gonna watch the match?”

Y/N raised a brow towards the ginger before mentally pushing her thoughts at the back of her head, grabbing another cookie. “Of course! I need to show my house some support you know.”

George placed his hands on the sides of the girl’s head, pinching her cheeks after giving her a small peck. “Well, your house needs to get ready because this Gryffindor beater will not hesitate to do his best.”

“Just because his luck is going to be watching at the stands.” He declared, giving the shocked girl a wink.

____________________

The next three weeks, the couple barely saw each other as both their schedules clashed. The only time and place where they get to talk to each other, one on one, was during potions class, as they were partners. However, they only spoke of academic things, with Y/N instructing George on what to do next most of the time.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch team captain, was keeping all the players from leisure as he scheduled practice every day, seven days a week, to make sure that his game plan was being executed properly.

“Wood has been keeping us because he wants to win the cup so bad. Reckon it’s his last year in Hogwarts. What better way to end it than winning the Quidditch cup?” Y/N remembered George quietly telling her during one potions class, careful to not get caught by Professor Snape.

As for their usual midnight escapades, even if the ginger insisted to continue on with it, the girl opposed, saying that it was better for George to just go back to his room and rest after a long night of flying around his broom, beating a bludger.

“But I want to spend time with you!” George whined as if he was a child who got his sweets taken away.

“Me too. But you’re gonna be too tired tomorrow. You need some sleep, George.” Y/N reasoned as she stroked the boy’s hair. “We’ll see each other soon. Tell you what, let’s make a bet.”

George’s ears perked up at the word, suddenly interested in how the conversation is getting.

“If you win the quidditch cup, you get to spend time with me 24/7. If you lose, then...that’s unfortunate.” Y/N said, attempting her giggles to come out after saying that last sentence. George groaned, muttering a small “fine.” before resting his head back on the girl’s lap.

“Where’s your stupid lover boy, Icestone?” Y/N’s thoughts were cut off after hearing an obnoxious voice speaking out to her as she quietly read her book on the couch in front of the Slytherin fireplace.

She gave the sour looking boy a small glance before turning her attention back to her book. “Why is a filthy git like you speaking to someone like me?” She expressed distaste on her voice. “So unfortunate for me.” She added.

The boy scowled. “Watch your words, Icestone.”

Y/N feigned a laugh, piercing a threatening stare on the speaker. “Or what, Malfoy?”

“Or I’ll tell your father how you’ve been associating yourself with a blood-traitor like him!” He replied, a smug look on his face after seeing the effect of his words. Y/N slammed her book shut, earning the attention of the other students in the area.

“Why don’t you just mind your bloody own business?!” She bellowed.

“Because you’re tampering the noble house of Icestone!” Draco exclaimed.

“What is it to you? You’re not even an Icestone!” The girl argued.

“But I’m Draco Malfoy.” He began, his voice calmer than before in order to not let their conversation be heard. “Associated with the house of Black and the house of Malfoy. One of the remaining wizard families that remains to be pure, that includes you. Y/N Icestone, the heir. Generations from generations, your royal name has been passed. You should protect that, don’t you think?” He suggested.

Y/N shook her head in disbelief, crossing her arms against her chest as she replied under gritted teeth. “What you’re saying is pointless.”

“Haven’t your parents taught you about how important it is to remain pure? To carry on family tradition?” Draco asked, adding more fuel to the fire that is Y/N Icestone, who rolled her eyes.

“Why are you acting as if the Weasleys are not purebloods?”

“Because they love muggle-borns and adore muggles! They’re blood traitors!” Draco answered, frustrated. “And what’s so wrong about being friendly to other people? At least they have basic human decency unlike you. Grow up, Malfoy.” She answered, spatting at the boy.

“I-”

“Not another word, Draco.” She ordered. “Or I’ll hex you. You wouldn’t want to miss the quidditch match wouldn’t you?” Y/N threatened, her wand out and pointed at the boy’s chest, scaring him. She scoffed at his frightened look, pressing her wand against where it’s pointed.

“Now, shove off, shine your stupid broom or something, and leave my business out of yours.”

____________________

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s your boy, Lee Jordan here and today, we are about to witness Hogwarts’ Quidditch finals with the famous house rivals, Gryffindor vs Slytherins!” Lee, the school’s commentator announced from his mic.

The quidditch field was full of students in anticipation, the stands filled with the two house colors, red and green. Although students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff we’re also in attendance, those who belonged in the said houses put on clothing around themselves that symbolized which team they were rooting for. Majority of it being red for the house of lions.

Y/N Icestone found herself seated at one of the front rows in a Slytherin stand. Beside her was Daphne Greengrass and her sister Astoria, who was talking to each other about who knows what. On the other side of Y/N was Pansy Parkinson and her flock, to which she gave no attention to, even if the girl tried (and failed) to be in her acquaintance.

“First off, we have the Gryffindors!” Lee announced. “Bell, Johnson, Potter, Spinnet, Weasley, Weasley, and their team captain, Oliver Wood! Woohoo~! Let’s go Gryffindors! Let’s go!”

The crowd present in the stands cheered with their hearts out as the Gryffindor team players’ names were called. Except for Slytherin and Slytherin supporters, of course. Otherwise, they’d be thrown off the stands.

Even if the whole school knew about Y/N Icestone and George Weasley’s not-so-friendly relationship, Y/N thought to still keep in lowkey and not show the public some displays of affection as she wanted to keep her privacy, in which George completely understood. Additionally, Y/N Icestone comes from the house of loyalty. It wouldn’t be such a great image for her if she openly supported the opposing team.

Therefore, Y/N Icestone tried to control her face from showing any sort of support to her boyfriend’s team, even if the boyfriend in question flew in the stand in front of her, blowing a kiss. Y/N rolled her eyes in response, giving the ginger a thumbs up, only to turn it upside down and mouth a “you’re gonna lose so bad.”

George feigned a hurt expression, his hands on top of his chest where his heart was placed, then suddenly changing it into a smug look and holding up a “2” and “4” on each finger and then “7” before zooming away with another wink.

____________________

The score was currently 120-90 with Gryffindor in the lead. An hour and a half has already passed but neither of the team’s respective seekers have caught the snitch to end the match. Y/N usually would want to have ended the match in an instant for her to go back to the book she’s been reading but this time, she was actually enjoying herself. It was just this match where quidditch suddenly felt very interesting to her. Maybe it was because of a certain ginger beater but who knows right?

“Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” The crowd chanted like a beating drum. Y/N’s heart was beating in anticipation too. Even if she did not show it, she was actually rooting for Gryffindor to win, chanting with the majority of the crowd inside her head. Her face however, feigning distaste as her house’s team was losing.

A bludger was zooming towards George when his eyes suddenly caught on it. Looking towards the stands to make eye contact with his girlfriend, he pointed his bat towards her as he mouthed a “this one’s for you.”, before hitting the bludger away. The Slytherin crossed her arms against her chest, attempting to hide the blush that’s creeping on her cheeks as she mouthed a “show off” in response. George only gave a wink before flying away.

“Seeker Draco Malfoy with a newly recovered arm has got his eyes on the snitch as he plummets down towards it. What is this?! Harry Potter chasing him! They’re side by side, ooh the nimbus two thousand and one is really a no-match for the firebolt- okay Professor McGonagall, back to the game.”

“Harry Potter took both his hands away from his broom, reaching the fast little snitch, he’s getting closer, closer, a little more closer, and he’s caught it! He’s caught it! Harry Potter has caught the snitch! Gryffindor wins the cup!”

The crowd roars in celebration after the house of Godric has been declared as the champions. Students of Gryffindor were jumping up and down, chanting “Gryffindor! Gryffindor! Gryffindor!” as both team players from the two houses flew down and dismounted their brooms.

Oliver Wood held up a hand towards Marcus Flint as a sign of sportsmanship, who was harshly rejected as the Slytherin team captain slapped his hand away and retreated towards their changing rooms together with the rest of the Slytherin players.

Fred and George had Harry resting on top of their shoulders, who was holding the cup in his arms, surrounded by people from the same house, congratulating them. Katie Bell, Alicia Spinnet, and Angelina Johnson, the Gryffindor chasers, were huddled around crying, hugging each other in delight.

As the three houses came together to celebrate the defeat of the winning streak the house represented by a serpent, the Slytherins decided to skip that part and head towards the dungeons instead. Nonetheless, even if the Slytherin did or did not win, there was a party going to be held. It included firewhiskey and chips. Who doesn’t like a cold underground party with firewhiskey and chips?

After putting Harry down, George thanked every single student who came to congratulate him but he was rather distracted, as his eyes were looking for somebody else. The privilege of height was very useful for him as he caught the girl’s eyes in delight, who was beaming at him at the sides. George grinned in return.

Attempting to push past the ocean of crowd he was stuck in, Y/N held out a hand to halt him, her wrist flicking as she levitated a small piece of ripped parchment towards the ginger.

Meet you at the tower later.

George read. Giving a thumbs up to Y/N, who turned her heels away and left the field.

____________________

“Where you off to, mate?” Fred asked, blocking the Gryffindor common room exit away from his twin.

“Nowhere.” George replied, grunting.

“Then why does it seem like you’re up to something? Without me? Why are you keeping things away from me? I thought we were best friends.” Fred rambled, his words slurring as he was starting to get bat-shit drunk.

“Fred, how much did you drink?” The younger twin questioned, mentally slapping his forehead as he observed the bottle of firewhiskey in his twin’s hand, which had about ¼ of it left. “Don’t answer. You need to stop, mate. Or else you’re going to humiliate yourself in front of Angelina.” He commented.

“Angie?! Where is Angie?!” Fred shouted, finally moving away from the portrait as he headed towards Angelina.

“Bet you 5 galleons that he's going to puke in front of her.” Ron muttered from the side. Oh great, another one. George thought.

“Where are you going? I thought you enjoyed parties.” The youngest Weasley boy interrogated.

George sighed, his hands digging his pockets to grab a couple of gold. “Listen, if you don’t ask, move away, and not tell everyone, I’ll give you 5 galleons right away without having that stupid bet you’re proposing.” He negotiated, holding out his hand full of coins in front of Ron’s face.

“Deal!” Ron exclaimed, immediately grabbing the gold and running away.

When George arrived at the Astronomy tower, he was greeted by a red and white picnic blanket settled around his and Y/N’s usual spot. On top of it was a candle lit on the center and a big brown picnic basket.

He felt small and cold hands wrapping around his waist from behind, the owner’s hair tickling the back of his neck. George grinned before turning around to face his girlfriend, his hands resting on the sides of her face as he planted a small and sweet kiss on top of her forehead.

“You really did take your time, huh?” Y/N muttered, raising a brow towards the ginger who smiled sheepishly in return. “I had...obstacles.” He said, shrugging.

“What is all this?” George asked, pointing at the set-up in front of him.

“Your reward.” Y/N answered, pulling him towards the blanket and grabbing the contents of the picnic basket.

“How exactly did you manage to prepare all these?” The ginger questioned, secretly popping a biscuit in his mouth as the girl continued to set-up their night.

Y/N halted her actions, facing the boy, in which she caught divulging the biscuit that made him look as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head. She giggled at the sight, shaking her head from side to side.

“I owled home, asked my mom to bring me some of my favorite snacks. Or maybe it was the house elves. I’m not really sure if my parents are home right now. Oh, now I’m sure. There’s a postcard.”

Y/N, me and your father are currently in Paris. He craved some bread and pasta last night and so we decided to stop by a bit. Your owl came to me so I sent it home to order the house elves. But included are these French toast that you like. X Mom

“Ooh~ French toast. That sounds fancy.” George commented. Y/N digged through the basket, pulling out the toasts before handing one to the ginger.

“So...Paris, huh? Have you ever been to Paris?” The ginger asked. Y/N took a bite of her toast.

“Yes...and no.” She answered, making George confused. “What do you mean?”

“Well, my mother and father were into 4 months of expecting me when they were in Paris. But as you know, obviously, I wasn’t born yet so that doesn’t really count.” Y/N began. “Father told me that Paris holds a special place in their hearts because that’s where he proposed to my mother. In front of the Eiffel tower. Papa said that’s also where he realized how he loved her.” She explained.

“Bet he said ‘Eiffel for you’ in front of the Eiffel tower.” George punned, earning a small shove from the grinning girl. “That was such a bad joke.” She convinced.

“Nah~! If it was bad, you wouldn’t have been trying to suppress your laugh.” He teased. “But guess what, Y/N?”

“What?” She asked, curious.

“Eiffel for you too.” George declared, earning a loud laugh from Y/N which caused him to get infected too.

“Godric! This is so much better than watching Fred humiliate himself in front of Angelina.”

____________________

Approximately 4 in the morning, Y/N and George separated ways as they sneaked back into their house common rooms. As the Slytherin turned to the next corner to the hall, she was greeted by the sight of her cat’s tail, Lixie on its way back to her quarters as well.

“Lixie!” She called out, rather too loudly, making her flinch and look around the halls to make sure that no one caught her. After concluding that the coast was clear, she turned her attention back to the Siamese cat, questioning him, this time in a much more hushed tone. “What are you doing here? What did I say about leaving the quarters without my permission?”

“I was with little Ginny! You didn’t bring me to the quidditch finals! Good thing she took me.” Lixie replied, suddenly jumping on Y/N’s arms. “Now carry me to make up for it.” He demanded, nuzzling his body to the girl’s warm embrace.

“Even so! You should have had Mira to tell me or something. You know how worried I get.” She scolded.

“No, you’re too busy with a lover boy to be worried about me.” Lixie commented. “Besides, if I didn’t leave the quarters, you would have gotten your heart broken.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, looking down at Lixie as confusion flooded her mind. “What do you mean?”

End of Chapter 5

____________________

Taglist: @abrunettefangirlnerd @gloryekaterina @lilypad-55449 @memekingofwwiii @leovaldez37

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blouisparadise · 4 years

Photo

Here are some great bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of June. We really hope you enjoy this list. Happy reading!

1) Until You’re Home | Explicit | 1039 words

Louis lives in London, Harry lives in Tokyo. They make it work.

2) He Holds My Paradise | Mature | 1332 words

“What is it that you want, baby?”

“Your dick” Louis breaths out, choking on his own words, neck still covered by his boyfriend’s hand.

“And where do you want it, baby?” the Devil asks him, a satisfied smirk painting his lips. “in my pussy, please.”

3) Morning | Explicit | 1428 words

Harry and Louis wake up and have a 'productive' morning in the shower ;)

4) Let's Go To The Beach | General Audiences | 1489 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it. This is a sequel. Part one of this fic is #6 on this list.

"Louis," Harry repeated.

"Right," Louis sighed. "He tried to scent me."

or the one where Louis has a meeting with an aggressive alpha and Harry calms Louis down.

5) Sweet Relief, Pretty Please | Not Rated | 1840 words

Louis is drunk, sad and alone, and Harry is a wanker.

6) Hey Moon, Don't You Fall Down | Mature | 2574 words

Note: The sequel to this fic is #4 on this list.

"Make me yours," Louis opened his eyes and put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "I'm ready, alpha, always been ready for you. Since the first day we met, I was yours. Please," Louis gasped as Harry slid his fingers out of him.

or the one where Harry and Louis finally bond.

7) Nothing Like Anything | Explicit | 2614 words

Harry is bored of his frat parties. No one interesting comes anyway.It's always drunk people, grinding in the living room, strangers trying to catch his eye. He's about to leave, just to ease his pounding head when he sees him, sinful on the dance floor and suddenly the party isn't so bad.

8) Over Exposed - Part Two| Explicit | 2840 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

Harry and Louis take a quick break from Harry's tour to attend the VMAs, then have a night out at a club.

9) Sweet Vanilla Cream | Explicit | 2896 words

Harry fights to resist his roommate's new omega boyfriend, Louis. Louis maybe doesn't want him to resist.

10) Take Off Your Glasses | Mature | 3742 words

Louis was enjoying his time, as he decided to spend his weekend clubbing, Louis knows no one in there, yet someone wanted to mess with him to know who's Louis the attractive boy in the black skirt.

"It’s Louie.. Sir."

11) Rose’s Fortune | Mature | 5055 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut but since it’s a/b/o we’ve decided to include it in this monthly roundup.

Omega Louis takes one of his siblings to the doctors (check up, possible broken bone or possibly injections?) and the new Dr is Alpha Harry. Harry is great with kids and Louis is smitten. Harry is smitten too but attempts to act professionally and keep his distance whenever Louis visits the Drs with his siblings or to pick up his prescriptions. But Harry realises there is no reason for him not to make a move as Louis isn't under his care.

12) Dare You To Move | Not Rated | 6060 words

The one where Harry falls in love with the omega who is the brain behind the omega march he joined.

13) Savage Garden’s Song Rules Sometimes (While Yours Always Reign Supreme) | Explicit | 6261 words

Note: This fic is a sequel to this fic.

The morning after one too many nights of isolation for Louis Tomlinson and his hot & dangerous boy.

Aka how insanely adorkable Harry Styles could be after a sulking episode. [wordplay edition]

14) I Can Feel Your Blood Pressure Rise | Explicit | 9292 words

"Hello, your Highness," Harry heard a familiar voice coming from behind him. Chills ran down his body as he felt the coldness of something sharp poke the back of his neck, "Turn around slowly or I'll hurt you,” the voice said in a teasing tone.

Where Louis is some sort of Robin Hood and sneaks into the King's castle, only to be fucked hard.

15) You Know What They Say | Explicit | 10323 words

Nice guys always finish last.

16) Teenage Dream | Explicit | 10333 words

Harry and Louis get reintroduced to each other by their friends. It’s an instant connection. Now they’ve just gotta get to know each other.

17) Move So Petty (You're All I See) | Explicit | 10548 words

Harry’s pretty content with his life. He loves his job- a veterinarian at a local clinic who’s already built up a name for himself despite his young age. He loves his gorgeous flat with its wide, open space and minimalistic, yet still homey feel. He loves his family who he talks to and visits as much as possible, not bothered by the long hours of driving to Holmes Chapel from London he endures multiple times a month. He loves his friends and his coworkers and his neighbors- especially Allison, the little old lady next door who brings him and Louis cookies on holidays and who always comments on how “strong and handsome you are, Mr. Styles,” everytime he sees her.

And most importantly, he loves Louis, just- maybe in a slightly different way.

18) When Tomorrow Comes | Explicit | 11111 words

The one where Louis is an Omega who has been keeping himself pure for his Alpha, Harry is a traditional Alpha focusing on his studies while he waits to find his bondmate, and Niall is a sneaky bastard who keeps borrowing Louis’ clothes and never returning them.

19) Smells Like Omega Spirit | Not Rated | 11769 words

Note: This fic contains no explicit smut, but since it’s omega Louis, we’ve included it.

Louis is an omega doing a test run on neutralizers for a class project. Every time he talks to Harry he smells completely different.

Harry is an alpha who can't figure out if he's going crazy or his sense of smell is broken, but all he wants to figure out what Louis' real scent is.

Somehow they figure it out.

20) You Kill My Mind | Explicit | 13181 words

Harry has always been ashamed to reveal his kinks to friends and partners alike. One day he meets a man who seems perfectly designed for him and they embark on a wonderful, sex-filled exploration journey.

21) In The Heat Of The Moment | Mature | 15743 words

When Louis unexpectedly goes into heat in maths class it takes him way too long to figure out why (it might have something to do with a certain curly haired boy sitting next to him).

22) Was In No Hurry, Had No Worries | Explicit | 21485 words

The year is 1999 and Harry can’t stop dedicating songs to Louis on the radio. Or the one where Harry hits Louis with his car.

23) You're The Smell Before Rain, You're The Blood In My Veins | Explicit | 21945 words

“It was him you talked about, when you used to call me late at night, saying you were missing your ex? Was it him, your important five-year long story? Was it him the person you had thought about proposing, one day?” Nick asks with a low voice, almost inaudible, almost like he’s talking to himself “He’s my boyfriend…” he whispers again, without looking up.

“I know! And you shouldn’t worry, because you don’t have a single reason to do so. He’s yours now, he’s with you. I really don’t understand why you came here, honestly” Harry says defending himself out of instinct, even if he has no reason to react like that. He just- just wishes for Nick to leave his room and go back home to Louis. Because at this point Nick has Louis and fuck, why can’t he just go fuck off for once? Doesn’t he have enough shit do deal with already? Does he really need to get into this as well? Right now?

24) Like The Earth Around The Sun | Explicit | 23600 words

The one where Harry bursts in on Louis in heat and things only get more complicated from there.

25) The Blood of Love | Explicit | 25273 words

Harry is a nurse and Louis is a painting worth more than a thousand words. As desire and darkness encompasses him, Harry has to learn the secrets of Thorne Hills manor before he succumbs to the mystery that surrounds him.

26) Habit | Teen & Up | 27095 words

In which Louis is a Donna who has a soft spot for alpha Harry.

27) Let Me Carry Your Weight | Explicit | 28633 words

Louis is fresh out of a bad relationship with someone who made him feel awful about how he looked. on his journey to better himself, he meets harry - the ridiculously attractive and fit personal trainer.

28) Robbers And Cowards | Explicit | 33237 words

A modern day Robin Hood AU where Louis and Harry (don’t really) hate each other but they hate greedy billionaires more.

29) Caves End | Explicit | 39711 words

The one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.

30) Soaked In The Blood Of Angels | Explicit | 40867 words

The boy looks drugged, caught between a man who’s almost twice his size and a girl who looks like she wouldn’t even break a sweat snapping him in half despite her small stature, eyes closed and mouth open as he pants, arching up between them almost as if he’s trying to escape.

Normally, Harry would ignore it and continue on his search for someone to drink from, someone who wouldn’t mind his sharp teeth and rough hands. He’s seen plenty of boys like this one, ones who picked the wrong playmates, and if he stopped to rescue every single one of them he would have died from thirst a long time ago.

This one, though. There’s something about this one, the sheen of his bright blue eyes as he blinks slowly, looks around as though he doesn’t know where he is, the weakness of his hands as he tries to push the girl off of him and make his escape.

31) With Stars Of Brightest Gold | Explicit | 41109 words

Louis Tomlinson is the premier courtesan at the Moulin Rouge. In his dreams, he has always wanted to be a famous stage actor. Locked into his contract, he has little means of escape until a handsome duke promises him freedom with a romantic alliance. Due to a case of mistaken identity playwright Harry Styles is thrown into the mix, compelling Louis to choose between his head or his heart.

32) We Both Got Nothing To Hide | Explicit | 43811 words

Omega Louis has a secret nest. Alpha Harry keeps losing his clothes.

33) In A World Alone | Explicit | 50787 words

Harry’s breath catches as the glow grows bigger and bigger until he’s squinting his eyes and blinking at the sudden intense brightness. He closes his eyes, rubbing at them helplessly. When his eyes open again- he gasps, grip loosening on his bow as he gawks at the sight before him.

Because the swan is gone.

And in its place is the prettiest omega Harry has ever seen.

A Swan Lake AU.

34) Hunting Ground | Not Rated | 583658 words

Note: This fic is the third part of a series. Part two is #38 in this list.

Louis Tomlinson didn’t know how complicated life could be until he became a werewolf. And until he was mated to Harry Styles, the son — and enforcer — of Liam, the leader of the North American werewolves, he didn’t know how dangerous it could be either...

Louis and Harry have just been enlisted to attend a summit to present Liam's controversial proposition: that the wolves should finally reveal themselves to humans. But the most feared Alpha in Europe is dead set against the plan — and it seems like someone else might be too. When Louis is attacked by vampires using pack magic, the kind of power only werewolves should be able to draw on, Harry and Louis must combine their talents to hunt down whoever is behind it all — or risk losing everything.

35) The Wrath of the Emerald Eyes | Mature | 85205 words

His chin is grabbed harshly, facing the two deep green eyes that have been getting on his nerves for the past ten minutes. The smirk on the man's face does not vanish. The grip of his hand on Louis' chin does not soften, his thumb at the side of his lower lip.

His smile widens as he answers Louis' question, ''My name is Styles, but you will call me Captain."

Pirate AU.

36) Cry Wolf | Not Rated | 85205 words

Note: This fic is the second part of a series. Part three is #36 in this list.

Louis never knew werewolves existed, until the night he survived a violent attack... and became one himself. After three years at the bottom of the pack, he'd learned to keep his head down and never, ever trust dominant wolves. Then Harry Styles, the enforcer—and son—of the leader of the North American werewolves, came into his life.

Harry insists that not only is Louis his mate, but he is also a rare and valued Omega wolf. And it is Louis' inner strength and calming presence that will prove invaluable as he and Harry go on the hunt in search of a rogue werewolf—a creature bound in magic so dark that it could threaten all of the pack.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #blp #larry

231 notes · View notes

imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 9/?

Word Count: 1.7k

Author’s Note: Y/N- Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best Friend’s Name)

I am sorry. lmao.

Half of my links are glitched tf out fuck this shit, touched grass yesterday but that grind don’t fuckin stop babey

Warnings: Angst - Injury, Description of said injury, Mentions of Jason’s past, Swearing, Dark Themes, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Jason clutched his right side as he gasped for a long breath of the cold, rainy air surrounding him. Everything hurt and he could barely move enough to text Dick that he was down. He would hold and add pressure to the stab wound sitting directly on his waist, but he could feel the blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers as he held it. His hands were covered by the blood and he was losing it fast.

He wasn’t going to walk this off by any means, he was going to need Dick to go get him and bring him back to the hospital wing of the Batcave because he couldn’t move and he felt his eyes drooping as he waiting and tried to keep his breathing in check, while Dick was scrambling to go get him.

There would be a few questions he would have to answer to Y/N. Not even just Y/N, to Lian, his Goddaughter, who he was planning on seeing in the morning since Y/N was going to a dance competition, or at least he thought she was.

But in that moment, so many memories flew back into his head, the hopelessness as he sat there for a few seconds, bleeding out after the explosion that Joker had set off on him. And then the minutes in the Lazarus Pit as he drowned himself back to life, the water filling his lungs as he cried and screamed. But no one came.

This time, however, Dick came.

Dick swooped his baby brother up and onto his back and he tried to run to the Batmobile as fast as he could, knowing time was of the essence for saving Jason’s life. Jason had broke off from Dick for a few seconds before this moment, and it was the only thing Dick was worried about. That Dick had said to come back to him, alive.

In the car, Dick put his hands on Jason's gaping wound, trying to press his hands into it as well to slow the bleeding, the Batmobile had the ability to drive itself, and Dick thanked whatever God was watching that it did. Jason was struggling for breath at this moment, and Dick was terrified.

“You’re going to be oaky, Jase. I swear. Please. Don’t die on me, it feels like yesterday that I got you back,” he leaned into Jason’s face, “Not again, please,” Dick begged and begged as he rushed Jason to Alfred, who was waiting to operate on Jason.

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

Y/N woke up as always, this time, without a text from Jason. She thought nothing of it, thinking he was safe in his house with his loving family. She went to go get coffee to kick start her day, and A/N wasn’t in the kitchen. She, still, thought nothing of it, since A/N’s lover was over the night before and she had to turn up her music to ignore the sounds coming from the other side of the house. She sent Jason a quick text,

Good morning, Jay. I hope you slept well.

And she returned to her room, coffee in hand, to write some quick little stories about what she had placed in her journal. Not many of the ideas in there were able to be built off of, but she still tried her best with every idea she had, to see if it could be something more.

It normally never was, but it was always something she craved. The ideas of writing a book always enticed her, but she never thought she was talented enough to do so.

She heard her roommate’s door open and then the front door as A/N waved off her lover. It was a quiet Saturday morning, and Y/N loved that as she dove further and further into her work, immersing herself in the story of two lovers who were destined to meet after one moved to the hometown of the other to pursue criminal psychology.

She couldn’t get her mind off of Jason. They hadn’t even known each other for a week but she knew he was worth her time. A few hours passed by from when she sent the first text.

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

Dick held Jason’s hand as he was hooked up to many different machines, he could breathe on his own, but the IV and the blood bags were hard to keep Dick’s eyes off of. If only I had been watching a little closer, he thought.

Jason fumbled in his pain-induced sleep, moaning and groaning as he did so when he opened his eyes to find a worried, sleep-deprived and very rough-looking Dick at his bedside, to which, Dick collapsed on Jason in a hug.

“Thank God,” Dick breathed.

“What... what the fuck.... what the fuck happened?” Jason stuttered, like a blanket of sleep and drugs had limited his mobility and brain function.

“I don’t know, Jase. That’s what I was hoping you’d tell me, but then again, your blood alcohol level was suspicious.”

“I... I didn’t drink... drink that much.”

“No, you didn’t. But you did drink, who was with you?”

“I don’t... know.”

“I think you were roofied so they could get the upper hand on you. You almost died, Jase.”

“Come...c’mere,” Jason managed to say, and when Dick came to him, he moved on of his hands onto Dick’s cheek, “Big... big annoying... big little annoying brother.”

“Shhhhhh, little wing,” Dick comforted his little brother, “You weren’t supposed to grow that much taller than me,” he laughed, “Dickhead,” he laughed again, then sighed, and stepped back from Jason to pace back and forth, he was stressed, “I told Roy-”

“Will.”

“Will, sorry. I told Will that you won’t be able to see Lian today, he asked what happened, he might drop by.”

“He should... shouldn’t have to... see me this... this way,” Jason said, eyes pooling with tears, “No one... should.”

“Don’t know how we’re going to explain this to your little girlfriend.”

“Oh... Man... I like... I like her.”

“I know you do, and that’s an issue when you’re high as a kite in a hospital bed, bleeding out, Jase,” Dick tried to explain, “Especially when she doesn’t know you’re Red Hood, dumbass.”

“Oh,” he said.

“I know, Jase. If it was me and Barbara didn’t know, I wouldn’t know what to do,” he sighed, “Haven’t even met this girl,” he laughed.

“It’s... it’s only been... 5 days,” he stuttered.

“and 3 back-to-back, multiple hour, spanning days, worth of dates. You don’t do that with someone you don’t think should meet your family.”

“You’re... stubborn.”

“And you’re my brother. It doesn’t take blood to exhibit the same traits.”

“The meds... are... are wearing off.”

“Do you need more?”

“Not... yet,” he struggled with his words, “Phone?”

“I mean, yeah I can give you your phone,” Dick said as he went to go unplug and hand Jason his phone, realizing that Y/N had texted Jason he said, “Guess you have someone who wants to know where you are more than Will does.”

“Will cares,” Jason said as he took the phone and read Y/N’s text,

I guess it isn’t morning anymore, huh.

Well that’s on me for texting you at 6 in the morning after I know you’ve been working late.

And I’m going to see my Goddaughter today, so I’ve been sleeping in to preserve energy for her.

Can’t forget that she’s what, 1 year old? Girl must have a lot of energy.

Her name’s Lian, and yeah. She’s a ball of energy.

He said as Lian and her dad, Will, formerly known as Roy, walked into the hospital wing of the Batcave. The secret wasn’t hidden to the little girl yet because she couldn’t remember a lot. But, she sure did recognize her Uncle Jay when she screamed her name.

Will brought his daughter up and put her beside her Uncle, and she cuddled into him, he would hold her back.

“Hey... Will.”

“You look like shit, Jaybird.”

“I feel... feel like shit.”

“You’re also talking slow, bud.”

“Drugs... do that... Will.”

“At least you’re not dead, I have no idea how I’d cope or even explain that to Lian.”

“She... she has your... eyes.”

“She’s growing into my nose too.”

“Your nose... looks like shit... on your face.”

“Okay, dickhead. You’re bedridden but yeah, attack me like you used to, I’ll just pull the plug.”

“Lian... would hate you... you for that,” he groaned as he said it.

“Do you need more drugs? I can tell Dick,” Will asked.

“Yeah... I think-”

“Don’t worry about finishing that, Jaybird. I got you.”

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

The wet ground surrounding the house Y/N lived in was a representation of what she considered, the bad things, washing away from her life as she got to know Jason more. She wished they could talk more that day, but she did not want to take away time from him and his Goddaughter. Family matters a lot to Y/N, so a thought like that just seemed selfish for her to think when she knew that little girl needed him.

She didn’t think he got injured or anything from the Office, it was a safer place than the fuckin Wayne Manor hallways. She texted Artemis,

So, you’re Wally’s girlfriend, and Wally is Dick’s best friend? Am I hearing you right?

That’s basically the intertwine we have here, yes.

So once you’re in this family, you’re IN, huh?

Nervous?

Not a chance.

The thrill of flipping off pap hasn’t left you yet?

Does everyone know about that? And yes, it’s still massively fun to do.

Wally says Dick is the only one who doesn’t think its that funny.

Lame.

C’mon now, that’s my best friend, but yeah, that’s pretty fucking lame.

You’re the fun best friend, then. You see the fun in making a fool of the pap.

You know it.

Artemis knew of what happened on patrol between Jason and his unknown attacker. Dick had told Artemis to distract Y/N from wondering why Jason seemed drunk, if he seemed drunk. The extents they went to to hide the fact that they were the vigilantes protecting the city, they didn’t know if she was going to be able to keep the secret.

Jason would talk to her after that message,

That storm last night was terrible.

I wish that we were together when it happened. I hate lightning.

Well, you were in Cali.

Did I not tell you? My competition was cancelled because the entire country is fucked with weather.

Oh. That sucks.

Do you want to spend the night here?

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

Do you want to spend the night here?

Jason stared at that text for a while. He did, he wanted to spend the night with her, but he was in pain, hooked to machines, with obvious wounds and bandages. He couldn’t spend the night with her.

I can’t. I’m in Metropolis with Will and Lian. Can we reschedule?

Of course we can. As long as you make sure we actually get to spend the night together.

He asked Dick in that moment, “How... how long... long til I heal?”

“Depends. You’ll be okay-ish in 5 days, but in 7-10 we have to take out your stitches if you’ve been taking care of them,” he said.

“That... that long? Damn.”

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ororowrites · 3 years

Text

Stripped - (Yahya x Black OC)

Sweet Thang Series - Chapter 2

Warnings: Language

Word count: 2,735

One-Shot: By the Open Fire

Chapters: 1

By the end of the first song, Candace was in her comfort zone. Yahya never let his eyes leave her and she no longer felt shy. The club had rules about no touching but Candace suddenly wanted this man’s hands all over her. Those long fingers and smooth brown skin were doing things to her. Maybe it was the liquor making her horny over a man she didn’t even know.

Little did Candace know, Yahya had thoughts racing in his mind too. He couldn’t stop thinking about her petite body under his or how her lips would feel on him. Candace was a beautiful woman and something about her intrigued Yahya. When she straddled his legs and began to grind on his lap, the urge to touch her grew. The scent of her perfume was as intoxicating as her hips, almost putting a spell on him.

It must have been the alcohol that gave Candace the courage to make her next move. She could feel his breath on her lips before they were interrupted by the dance timer. The euphoria they had experienced quickly disappeared as they fell back to Earth.

“Shit, sorry,” Candace apologized, swinging her legs to the floor. Yahya became any other customer and she held her hand out to collect her payment. “Thank you. You enjoy the rest of your night.”

Yahya opened his mouth but Candace was already heading out the door, stuffing the bills in her bra.

-------

Well into the next morning, Yahya was still thinking about the mystery girl from the club. He’d been to many strip clubs and never felt a connection with any of the ladies he encountered. Something about her grabbed him and sucked him in and had her on his mind hours later.

“You still stuck on that hoe from the club.” Damon lit his blunt and relaxed his head against the back of the sofa. “Nigga, we ain’t taking you to the club again.”

“Word on the street is that the shawties at Dynasty have golden pussy or some shit,” his brother added with a drug induced chuckle.

“Respect the ladies, man. Being a stripper doesn’t make them hoes. And Kevin that’s enough kush for you. Golden pussy? Really,” Yahya snatched the blunt from his friend and put it back in the ashtray.

“Aight, let me respect the skrippas. But still, you don’t know her. What if she’s crazy? You will be going back home tomorrow night and no tellin’ when you’re coming back to LA, so why does it matter,” Damon explained.

“Both of ya’ll are some fucking haters. Trash asses.” Yahya grabbed his phone and took his troubles to the balcony. Kevin and Damon were great friends but their childish, misogynistic antics got on his nerves when he was around them. At times, he felt like he was outgrowing them, even though he still considered them brothers he never had. While he was looking to settle down sooner rather than later, they were stuck in the same phase they were in throughout high school and college and it appeared to be a never ending cycle.

Was it ridiculous to think that the stripper he met at the club was the one? Yep. But, that didn’t keep Yahya from wishing he could see her again before he was back to the reality of being jobless.

-------

“Are you sure you saw him with her?” The very question had Candace’s heart pounding against her chest. Natalie, Maxwell’s ex-girlfriend, had entered the picture again after Candace thought her dropping out of school was the blessing they needed. Now with her back in California via North Carolina, she had access to Maxwell as did he to her.

“Sis, would I lie to you? I saw that bastard with her in the Commons. Took everything out of me not to run up on them and start whooping ass,” Trinity said, fuming on her sister’s behalf. Truth be told, she never liked Maxwell and knew the type of guy he was from the beginning. Maxwell was charming and had the ability to make any girl weak in the knees. Especially a woman like her sister that was in love with being in love.

Anger built from the pits of her stomach. Feelings of betrayal had never quite faded since they had made up and she ignored it in the name of love. “Did he see you?”

“Nope. But I’ll make myself seen when it comes to my sister. Candy, why are you still trying to make things work with this immature, cheating ass, motherfucker? I try to hold my tongue like you ask but I refuse to hold it again. You’re too good for him.” When it came to family. Trinity was the sister that would physically fight for her siblings. At times, Candace admired her sister’s tenacity and wished she wasn’t as timid when it came to relationships with people. That was one negative trait that kept Candace anchored to people that did not deserve her time.

“I honestly don’t know.” Tears began to form in Candace’s eyes as the shame set in for her. She knew Maxwell was no good for her but he always found a way back into her heart. “I’m...um...I’m going to talk to him.”

“Candace,” Trinity called out, noticing her sister’s emotions getting the best of her. “Please don’t cry over that man. Please.”

If only Candace knew her worth.

-------

Candace took the scenic route to Maxwell’s apartment, playing different scenarios in her head on the way. If she murdered him, where would she hide the body? Did she just hit him with questions or soften him up first?

None of those scenarios played out once Candace reached her destination and was met by Natalie in the hall outside Maxwell’s apartment. The three of them froze, each of them searching for words to break up the awkward moment.

“I should get going. I’ll call you when I get home,” Natalie mumbled, lowering her eyes and pushing past Candace.

“I knew that apology was a lie and you were full of shit,” Candace spoke through clenched teeth. She was taught to never put her hands on anyone and it took a strong prayer to keep her fists at her sides. “What the hell is Natalie doing here and don’t even think about lying.”

Maxwell didn’t even put up a fight. Besides, after the news he had learned, he didn’t have the energy to lie or smooth talk his way out of this one.

“What was she doing here, Maxwell?”

“Natalie’s pregnant,” he replied, leaning against the wall across from Candace. He watched as his girlfriend’s face fell blank. “I fucked up and I’m sorry for that. You don’t deserve the shit I put you through.”

Still lost for words, Candace slid down the wall until her rear hit the concrete floor. Pregnant. That had to be the final straw, right? The game they had been playing for the past three years had come to a tragic end that Candace feared.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I know I stay apologizing but I mean it. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“Yeah, you did.”

Maxwell kept his distance. “Did what?”

“If you didn’t mean to hurt me, this would have stopped after the first incident. But I gave you chance after chance and you still didn’t fucking stop. I’m done, Max. I can’t put myself through this shit because it’s obvious you won’t stop. I’m foolish to even think you would,” Candace spoke in a hushed tone, never raising her voice or releasing the tears that threatened to fall.

“I’m-”

“I don’t wanna hear another one of your tired excuses. I sure the hell hope your dick is clean. I’ll come back for my shit another day.”

“Candy, come on-”

“Move! Don’t fucking touch me.” Blood rushed to Candace’s face as the embarrassment set in and she could no longer look Maxwell in the eye. This relationship had become a part of her identity and she allowed it to consume her so much that she forgot to love herself. “We’re done, Maxwell.”

Candace ignored the apologies and groveling. A weight lifted off her shoulders and she didn’t intend to put it back ever again.

------

Yahya had one more day to enjoy Los Angeles before he had to return to San Francisco to figure out his next move. He was desperate to burn off steam and decided to hit the park for a workout. The skies were clear, granting Yahya a good dose of vitamin D while he ran the steps. He pushed himself to do one more set before taking a lap around the trail for a cool down. Yahya was so focused, he didn’t notice Candace approaching him from the opposite sidewalk.

“Hey...wassup,” he said, removing his headphones when he finally saw the brown beauty in his path.

“Hey. Didn’t think I’d run into one of my customers...ever,” Candace chuckled nervously. The breakup had her emotions all over the place and gave her the bravado to approach a man from the club. Keeping those two lives separate was important to her except in that moment.

“Oh, yeah? Well, I don’t want to think of myself as your customer. That’s a little weird,” Yahya admitted, earning a nod from Candace in agreement. “But since we’re outside of your job, can I get your real name?”

“Candace.”

“Nice to meet you Miss Candace. I’m Yahya.”

A short, awkward moment of silence gave Candace time to get a better look at the man she had danced on in a dark strip club. Beautiful dark brown skin covered a body that looked like it was sculpted with the utmost care. If you looked up tall, dark and handsome in the dictionary, Yahya’s picture would be used as the definition. Once her eyes traveled back up to his face, his bright, white smile captured her and held on for dear life. The man was fine and seeing him in the light had Candace acting like a shy, school girl.

“You live around here,” Candace asked, breaking the silence.

“No, I’m visiting my boys from back home. I’m living in San Francisco right now. I go back tomorrow evening,” he explained, looking Candace over. She was petite compared to his 6′3 frame. “You?”

“I’m from Chicago but moved here to go to school. Trying to live the dream, ya know?”

“I hear that,” Yahya nodded. “Well Candace, I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we ran into each other. Would you like to get a recovery smoothie with me? My treat. Unless you’re still in the middle of your workout.”

“I can cut out early. I know a good smoothie spot not too far from here if you don’t mind walking.”

Yahya’s smile grew, “Sounds like a plan, let me put on a shirt.”

Or not, Candace thought to herself.

--------

After the ice was broken, Candace and Yahya began to enjoy each other’s company. The break-up earlier that day was still on Candace’s mind, but she felt at ease being around Yahya. Sure, they didn’t know one another on a deep level, yet she could sense Yahya’s compassion. When she spoke, his eyes stayed on her and he truly listened. One thing that irked her about Maxwell was his inability to listen below the surface level.

“That’s too bad. Many of these fellas out here don’t appreciate their lady until she’s gone.” Maxwell sounded like many men Yahya knew and the type of man his parents raised him not to be. He could see the hurt in Candace’s face when she described what had led up to the end of their relationship.

“Yeah, it’s just a shame I wasted my time and my heart on a guy that didn’t want to protect it.”

“His loss, your win.”

Dumping personal information on a stranger was not how Candace usually moved, nonetheless it felt good. “I’m sorry for treating you like a therapist.”

“Nah, you’re good. You had a rough day. I don’t mind listening.”

“Thanks, but I wanna hear more about you. What do you do in expensive ass San Francisco,” Candace quizzed, sipping her raspberry/banana smoothie.

Yahya hoped telling Candace about his unemployment wouldn’t ruin his chances. He still hadn’t shared the news with anyone else. “I was a City Planner for the Mayor’s office but I was laid off on Friday. I honestly don’t even know what the hell I’m going to do when I go back home.”

One of Candace’s strongest traits was her empathy. She had no issue stepping into a person’s shoes and feeling what they felt. Those that were worthy enough to spend time with her felt Candace’s warmth right away. Yahya could feel it, which is why he felt comfortable sharing the news with her.

“I’m sorry, Yahya. Shit sucks when you get well into your career and your job is in another person’s hands,” Candace sucked her teeth and shook her head. “Are you thinking about staying there and getting another job?”

“To be honest, I need a change of scenery. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise because I think I got comfortable in my lifestyle. I loved my job but things were stagnant,” he explained, tracing the lettering on his smoothie cup. “Right now, I’m thinking about taking a break and figuring out what I want to do from there. I’ll get unemployment, so I’ll manage until I find another career that makes me happy.”

“That’s brave of you. I’m too damn scary and would need to have a plan right away. Good luck with that. You seem to be a determined man so you’ll find your way. I’m hoping I can graduate and get into Yale then we will see if I make a career out of this acting thing. If not, I’ll go back to school for education and teach theatre.”

“Wow, Yale? I did some acting classes back in the day and they seemed pretty cool. I don’t know if I have the talent to get into a school like Yale though. I need to work on my Denzel cry first.” The two shared a laugh and finished up their smoothies.

Time passed as their conversation ranged from discussing their childhoods to recent life events. They were so deep into discussion, they didn’t notice that two hours had gone by since they first arrived at the smoothie shop. Candace was more easy going than Yahya thought. That shy exterior had fallen down, exposing the sweet and funny side of her. Like many women in the stripping industry, her persona in the club was a lot different from her true self. He wished he could get to know more of that side.

They walked back towards the park, where their cars were parked on a side street. Yahya walked Candace to her Jeep and waited for her to load the backseat with her duffle bag.

“Thanks for the smoothie and talk. I needed that more than I thought,” Candace closed the back door and stood in front of the driver’s side door. “Dr. Yahya is a great listener, even though we’re complete strangers.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. I wasn’t kidding about taking some acting classes with you when I’m in town,” he replied, flashing his wide grin.

“I’ll hold you to that Mr. Abdul-Mateen. Like I said, acting is like recess so it’ll be fun. Who knows, maybe you’re a natural at the shit.”

“We’ll see, we’ll see. I won’t hold you up, you should probably get home before it gets too dark. Text me when you make it.”

“Alright. Thanks again, Yahya. For real,” Candace’s soft curls blew over her face as the wind picked up.

“You’re welcome. Thank you for listening to me ramble. Get home safely and don’t forget to let me know.” Yahya leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Candace’s cheek. The simple act almost made her melt into a puddle in the LA street. Opening her car door, Yahya waved her inside. “Bye, Candace.”

“See you later.”

Candace drove away feeling like a new chapter of her life was on the horizon and she was ready to face whatever it had in store.

Taglist: @blackburnbook @just-peachee @emjayewrites

Want a tag? Let me know.

#yahya abdul-mateen ii #yahya x black oc #yahya abdul-mateen ii fanfiction #black writers #ororo writes

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swanlake1998 · 3 years

Text

Article: Julie Felix: the brilliant Black ballerina who was forced to leave Britain

Date: March 3, 2021

By: Steve Rose

(CW: racism, anti black racism, police brutality, violence, murder mention)

She was told there was no room for a ‘brown swan’ in the London Festival Ballet, so she went to the US. There she found enormous success, dancing for everyone from Michael Jackson to Prince

The turning point in Julie Felix’s career came in 1975. A student at Rambert ballet school in London, she was selected to dance in Rudolf Nureyev’s production of Sleeping Beauty with the London Festival Ballet (now the English National Ballet). Nureyev was the god of British ballet – and he lived up to his reputation on the first day of rehearsal, Felix recalls. “He was late, but everybody said he was always late. All of a sudden, the doors flew open and in he came. He was well renowned for these big boots he used to wear, and a big fur coat. He took the coat off like a matador and threw it so it slid across the dance studio floor. Everybody jumped up and stood to attention. He was there for probably about half an hour.” At the time, 17-year-old Felix was awestruck. In hindsight, half a century later, she is less impressed: “Talk about unprofessional.”

In the fairytale version of Felix’s life, having acquitted herself on stage with Nureyev, she would have joined the London Festival Ballet and become the first Black British dancer to begin her ascent through the ranks of a British ballet company. Instead, she was told she was a “lovely dancer”, but was not going to be given a contract, “because of the colour of my skin. I would mess up the line of the corps de ballet, because you can’t have a whole row of white swans and then there’s a brown one at the end.”

Felix was stunned: “It hit me like a thunderbolt.” Her mother was white British and her father African-Caribbean, from Saint Lucia. She had never thought of the refined world of ballet as being what we might now describe as institutionally racist. “It sounds ridiculous, but because I didn’t experience any racial issues or difficulties before that, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the colour of my skin. I thought that I was talented and that would be enough.”

Having grown up in Ealing, west London, in the 60s, Felix certainly knew about racial difference. She rarely saw any faces that were not white in the neighbourhood or at school, she says. After her parents had met on a bench in Hyde Park, her mother’s family disapproved. “They said: ‘If you marry that man, we’re going to disown you.’ And my mum just said: ‘Well, fair enough, I still want to marry him.’”

Her father, who worked as a foreman at the Hoover factory, was quite the charmer, says Felix. “He was the proudest man. He would paint the front door a different colour every year. He was always up the ladder washing his windows. He would grow fruits and vegetables in the back garden. But I would say my dad had a big chip on his shoulder.”

She describes how he would dress like a dandy, in 40s suits and spats, even if he was just going to do the shopping. “He would always berate the grocers and say: ‘You’re picking the bruised fruit and vegetables because I’m Black. You think I can’t see this?’” She laughs. “Why would you move somewhere if you’re going to spend your life being concerned about the way other people look at you and your colour?”

There was an incident when she was eight or nine, when her father returned from work very late, his shirt ripped and covered in blood. A colleague had attacked him outside the factory gates with a meat cleaver on a chain. “He didn’t like, one, the way my dad spoke to him and, two, because my dad was Black,” she says.

Culturally, the Felix household was “100% British”, she says. She had no connection to her Saint Lucian family, although she would see her British grandparents in Essex regularly (relations had thawed when Felix’s elder sister and she were born). Musically, her father liked American crooners such as Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole; her mother preferred classical music and had once aspired to be an opera singer. “So, when it came to my wanting to dance, there was a local ballet school around the corner in Ealing that I would go to, and Mum said: ‘Well, as long as you keep working hard and you’re enjoying it, I will fund it for you.’ She wasn’t a pushy, stereotypical ballet mother, but she knew that I loved it. And because she’d been stopped doing what she wanted to do, she was there 100% for me.” When she passed the audition for the Rambert, her parents could not afford the fees; Felix won a grant from the Inner London Education Authority, which paid 75%.

Felix says no one is “born to dance”, but, as a student, her passion for ballet was boundless. “I can remember the feeling of waking up in the morning, earlier than I needed to, getting on the underground and going into Notting Hill Gate, where the school was. I was the first one in the door. The cleaner was still there.

“I could not get enough of it. My friend and me would stretch and practise our fouettés in the lunch break. We’d be the last ones out of the building. Get back on the train, go home. My feet would be bleeding. I’d have blisters all over my toes. And I didn’t care. I just knew this was what was required. I soaked my feet in salt water, dabbed surgical spirit on them to get the skin to heal and get them dried out so that I could get up the next morning and get on that train again.”

After all her dedication, being rejected for her colour was devastating. “It didn’t last long, mind you,” she says. “Part of my personality is: sink or swim. And I thought: ‘I am not going to sink here.’ So I just flipped it around and just said: ‘Watch me. I’m going to show you I can do it.’”

She didn’t have to wait too long. The previous summer, the Dance Theatre of Harlem (DTH) had come to perform in London. This was a pioneering Black ballet company founded in 1969 by Arthur Mitchell, the first top-flight Black dancer in US ballet. While they were in town, Felix went along, auditioned for Mitchell and was immediately offered a contract. She declined. When her teacher at Rambert found out, “she absolutely hit the roof”, Felix recalls. “She said: ‘You can’t pick and choose. You’ve been offered a job!’” Fortunately, the DTH returned to London a few months after her Nureyev experience. Felix auditioned and was offered a job a second time. She did not turn it down.

This time, Felix’s skin colour was to her advantage, although working with an all-Black company in the US was a curious reversal: “I’d gone from all of my ballet training, and growing up not really being aware of anything to do with Black people, to going to New York and there’s no white people.” Before relocating to New York, Felix had never had a passport, left the UK or flown in an aeroplane.

“Within two weeks of being there, Arthur Mitchell said to me: ‘We’ve got to knock the British out of you.’ And I took umbrage, because I’m really proud of being British,” Felix says. In retrospect, she knows what he meant: “It was the wishy-washy way I approached my technique and my ballet training. But it wasn’t just about that; it was everything that Arthur Mitchell taught and portrayed and wanted us to portray within our work. He wanted to show that Black people really can do this.”

DTH’s sense of purpose aligned with Felix’s own. She stayed with the company for 10 years, earning her place as a soloist and touring the US and beyond (including a satisfying return to the Royal Opera House). Life in the US put British racism into perspective, says Felix. In her first week in New York, she witnessed a young Black man being shot dead in the street by two white police officers for shoplifting. A touring performance in Mississippi in 1978 had to be cancelled because the Ku Klux Klan staged a protest outside the theatre, in white hoods, burning cross and all. “No words can describe that feeling,” she says.

There were more good times than bad, though. Felix shared the stage with, and danced for, luminaries from Ronald Reagan to her hero, Luciano Pavarotti. She danced with Lionel Richie to All Night Long at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics closing ceremony; visitors to her shows included Michael Jackson and Prince. Jackson wanted to cast the dancers in his ill-fated Peter Pan movie, she says. He came to a matinee in Pasadena, California, supposedly incognito, but in full Jackson regalia: black sunglasses, Jheri curl and military-style outfit, with a complement of bodyguards. “I was annoyed, because I was there to deliver the performance, but you had all these girls screaming in the audience,” says Felix. “Anyway, after it finished, he came backstage and said to us, very, very quietly: ‘I really enjoyed your performance. I just think you’re fantastic.’ What a humble man.”

A year later, Prince came to a show, by coincidence at the same theatre. He was similarly “incognito”, in a sequined, hooded purple cape. He never took the hood down. “At the end of the performance, he got back in his limo and left and didn’t say thank you, hello, anything. Really quite rude.”

By 1986, aged 30, Felix was beginning to feel the physical toll of ballet life. She also missed home. She returned to the UK and became a teacher and remedial coach for Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet, first in London, then in Birmingham, where the company relocated when it became Birmingham Royal Ballet, in 1990. She married and had three daughters (none of whom followed in their mother’s footsteps).

She then became head of dance at a local school. Now it was her turn to “knock the British out” of her students. “They don’t seem to know how to really push themselves,” she says. “Ballet is really painful. If you don’t feel that, then you’re not doing it properly.” Ballet has also always required a highly specific form of physicality, Felix points out. “It needs very arched feet, it requires good natural rotation of your hip sockets, a slender body, long, lithe muscles, long neck, small head.” Regardless of talent or musicality, she says, dancers who do not conform to this body type will struggle. Perhaps it is this inherent discrimination that has made other forms of prejudice easier to disguise.

British ballet has made some progress since the 70s, but it could do more. Birmingham Royal Ballet, for example, had a successful workshop programme with local schools, whose pupils were often from Black, Asian or minority ethnic backgrounds, but such programmes seem to have “fizzled out” as a result of local authority budget cuts, Felix says. On the other hand, there are institutions such as Ballet Black, which advocates for diversity in professional ballet. At the time of its founding in 2001, there were still no women of colour performing in any British company. The Royal Ballet recruited its first Black, British-born male dancer, Solomon Golding, only in 2013.

Felix is not convinced British ballet has turned the corner: “I still believe that we’ve got ballet companies who will take a few people of colour just to be politically correct.” However, she was heartened by the appointment of the Cuban-British dancer Carlos Acosta as director of Birmingham Royal Ballet in 2020, although the pandemic has so far curtailed its activities. While all British arts are vulnerable at the moment, ballet – with its high demands for time, labour, space and personnel – is especially so. Now based in Cornwall, Felix has made do teaching over Zoom for the past year. She is not complaining: “It really is a lovely place to be locked down.”

Felix’s skin colour began as a factor that counted against her, but it became an animating force in her career and led to a wealth of experiences and successes she might otherwise not have had. With that satisfaction, the anger she feels for her 17-year-old self being told her brownness would “mess up the line” has mellowed a little. “Their choice of not accepting me enabled me to find something within myself that I probably would never have known was there,” she says. “And then to open up this whole world for me. So I can say that hatred was turned to gratitude.”

#article #julie felix #ballet #anti black racism #racism #murder mention #police brutality mention #antiblackness tw #violence tw

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once-upon-a-pirate-ship · 3 years

Text

How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam 3/?

Chapter 3: Moments Long Remembered

read it on AO3 here | from the beginning

chapter 1 | chapter 2

story summary: Princess Emma isn't the princess of much anymore. It's been months since her parents and brother were taken, and she's been on the run with her godmother Red. When Emma and Red board a merchant vessel to sail to Arendelle, Emma quickly finds that the captain is not to be trusted. After helping two slave brothers, Emma takes over the ship and begins her journey to save and rebuild her kingdom.

what's in store for chapter three? New characters (not new new, but new to this particular world)! Some background! Pining & tension!

thank you all for reading and staying with me even when I am too busy (just for this one week and a half time period) to post on schedule

Moments Long Remembered

On the worst day of her life, Princess Emma rode out far beyond the castle walls. She was alone, as she preferred solitary rides on her trusted horse, and the cold air was nothing to her as she raced through the snow covered forest. For a few hours each day, she got to feel entirely free. All responsibilities could wait, every forced smile was just a distant memory. She had no one to try to impress, no one who expected anything from her, no one who needed her to be someone she was not.

It wasn’t the excursion, nor the weather, nor the steed that made this day so horrible. Rather, it was the enemy who had breached the castle walls in her absence.

The most poignant part of this particular memory, for her, were the moments directly before she was made aware of the events inside the castle. She was at ease, content, blissfully happy and oblivious to the screams that tore through the halls she called home. She wasn’t worrying about her parents when they were stolen and taken far out of her reach. She didn’t consider her brother, her little lion cub, as he was yanked from the joy he knew and shown the truths of the world she’d wished he’d never have to learn.

Her happiness was shattered when the Evil Queen appeared before her, the black gown cutting across the crisp white snow in her path. Terror as she’d never known it dropped into her stomach as her hands gripped the reins and her horse skidded to a stop, and the fear that sliced down her spine was colder than the shards of ice that hung from each tree branch.

The Evil Queen’s mouth was curled into a wicked smile, white teeth framed by the wine color of her lips as she moved them to speak.

“Emma.”

But it was not the Evil Queen who stood in front of her now and called her name. It was her most trusted friend, her ally, her godmother, Red. The memory, as vivid as if it had only just happened, dissolved into nothing, sizzling in the early summer air as Emma blinked it away.

“Yes?”

“Liam and I are leaving,” Red told her, “I doubt we’ll be gone more than a few hours.”

Emma could’ve counted on one hand the number of times that she’d been separated from Red in the last months, and no matter how irrational it was, she couldn’t stop her muscles from tensing as if bracing for pain. But they needed some new crew, and Red was more than capable of the job.

“Good, good,” Emma said absently. She wished she had something more intelligent to say, but her mind was still fixated on moments long gone. “I’ll be here,” she added.

“Yes,” Red grinned, “you and Killian.” She didn’t give Emma time to inquire after the tone she’d used before Red turned and called, “Liam!”

Liam stood across the deck in conference with John Terry, but at the call of his name, he excused himself from his fellow sailor and joined Red and Emma where they waited by the gangplank.

“We shall return shortly,” Liam promised his captain. “I hope Killian won’t give you too much trouble,” he added in good humor.

“We’ll be just fine,” Emma told him. The trouble Killian Jones gave her was of a different nature, and she wasn’t about to disclose those particulars to his older brother.

Emma watched Liam and Red until they disappeared into the crowd past the docks, forcing her thoughts from straying to the fear that was an ever-present buzz in her blood. Instead, she planted herself on the steps leading up to the quarterdeck, her mind occupying itself with whatever it could latch onto.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Killian appeared from below, offering Terry a few words as he passed on his way towards her.

“Swan!” he called, and her eyes immediately met his. He’d called her that three times that morning, and it hadn’t seemed unusual once. But perhaps that had less to do with the moniker and more to do with who had said it.

Killian dropped onto a step below hers, a gentle and genuine smile spreading across his lips. “Terry’s gathering his group and then they’ll be off,” he told her. “I double checked the list with the storeroom, and it seems that everything’s in order.”

“Perfect,” she replied, willing a coherent sentence to present itself as she looked away from his striking eyes.

“Tell me, Swan,” he began, his voice low, “do you always dress in a layer of knives, or do you save that for special occasions?”

She laughed, and it made her realize how long it had been since that had happened. Her head thrown back like that, the bounding joy in her chest—weeks, at least. Probably months, probably before that morning ride that featured the Evil Queen.

Emma leaned back a little, her hand going to the edge of the vest to pull out a blade and pass it to him. “Eight in total, four on each side,” she explained. “And yes, I’ve fixed every garment I have with some sort of weapons holder.”

Killian’s eyebrows shot up, glancing up at her from the knife he had been examining. “Isn’t that dangerous? How have you not injured yourself?”

“Not any more dangerous than being unarmed and running into some Black Knights,” she said with a shrug, glancing away to avoid his concerned gaze. “But each blade has a metal casing. That’s what keeps it from hurting me or tearing the fabric, and it snaps into place to stop it from falling out.”

His dark brows furrowed, his eyes flitting from the knife to where she’d pulled it from. “The casing, is it tricky?” he wondered. “Does it get stuck?”

“Only when I forget to clean them,” she replied. Without pausing to consider what she was doing, she reached for his free hand. “Here, try it,” she said, guiding his fingers to the spot on the other side of her vest.

Killian moved slowly, hesitantly, but he allowed her to line his fingertips against the hidden pocket. His eyes locked with hers, and that familiar tug and snapping of electricity surged between them.

“Just, um, push up a little until you feel a click, and then it’ll slide out,” she explained, slightly breathless despite the fact that she’d been sitting for several minutes.

His gaze didn’t stray from hers as he followed her directions, the thin handle of the blade dropping into his hand. She could feel his body heat like this, his hand against her waist, and it seemed like he was both too close and not close enough.

“Captain?”

Emma and Killian broke apart at the sound of Terry’s voice. She stood, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen out of place. “Yes?” she asked, glancing quickly at Killian who had returned to an upright position and was currently examining the two blades closely. The tips of his ears were red.

Terry smiled, and Emma pretended not to notice anything but politeness in it. “With your leave, Captain, we’re off.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” she replied, looking between him and the several crew members gathered a few feet behind. “I look forward to receiving your report upon your return.” It was best that she maintained the pretense of captain with the crew, according to Red. Something about safety or respect or concealing her identity from newcomers. She could hardly remember now.

Emma waited until they were out of sight before returning to her previous position, and Killian had recovered enough that the blush had even faded from his cheeks when he looked at her. He passed her the knives without a word.

He cleared his throat, forcing his eyes back to hers rather than where her fingers secured the blades. “You mentioned Black Knights,” he said, “have you fought many of them?”

It wasn’t that surprising of a question, honestly, given that she’d mentioned them off-handedly before. She just couldn’t figure out why she had mentioned it in the first place. Perhaps it was the same reason she showed him how her vest worked.

“Can you define ‘many’?” she asked, her voice calm and soft and not at all befitting the subject.

Killian’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening to restrain some emotion she couldn’t place. “It’s been…months,” he murmured. “You’ve been fighting them all this time?”

“Fighting them, running from them, gathering information from them,” Emma answered. “Until I figured out that she was tracking me with magic, at least.”

“What did you do?”

“Red got her hands on some potion,” she said, trying for a smile that ended up a little sad. “So that’s why we’re here now. And that’s why there’s not a single Black Knight searching this port.”

Killian was quiet for a moment, and it wasn’t until his jaw released its tension that he spoke. “What information?”

“At first, we tried to get them to tell us where my family was, but they’re not particularly talkative,” she explained, hoping she sounded more unaffected than she felt. “Eventually, we started following them, finding their camps. We spent weeks combing the forest, tracking their movements, and making maps of their locations.”

“Did you find them?”

The ghost of a smile on her lips was revealing. “We discovered where she’s holding my father. It’s remote, not to mention protected by battalions of Black Knights. Red and I are good, but we’re not that good.”

“That’s where Arendelle comes in,” he concluded. “You’re hoping they’ll help you to free him with magic.”

She sighed, her eyes trailing away from him and fixing themselves on the gangplank. “That’s our hope,” she said. “If I can get to my father, he’ll be able to find my mother. And I have no doubt they’ll make quick work of locating Leo.”

“You and your brother,” Killian continued after a moment, “are you close?”

The question was enough to bring happier, lighter memories to the forefront of her mind. “Very,” Emma replied. “He’s like light personified. Always overly enthusiastic, always making me laugh. But he’s driven, too. Spends all day in the practice yard unless I convince him to do something else.”

“He’s probably just trying to keep up with his sister,” Killian said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“Maybe,” she allowed. But thinking about her brother fighting made her think about her brother losing, and then the guilt that had lived in her chest since that day slammed against her heart. “I wish I’d been there to protect him when he really needed me,” she confessed, and the words were almost shocking for her to hear. She’d thought about it again and again, but never had she voiced it, as if keeping it to herself made it less real.

“What happened, exactly?” Killian asked. “If you don’t mind sharing,” he added quickly.

“I used to go for a ride every morning,” she began, “and that morning was no different. Until the Evil Queen showed up and outlined her perfect plan to destroy my family one curse at a time.”

“She cursed all of you?”

“No,” Emma replied, a bitter laugh on her lips, “not me. Because the knowledge that my family is slowly dying while I am powerless to stop it…that’s a curse in its own right.”

“Swan,” Killian breathed, and the emotion in his voice was overwhelming. “I don’t pretend to know the specifics of the Evil Queen’s magic, but you must know that it wasn’t your fault. If your parents, your brother, your numerous castle guards couldn’t stop her, why do you think you’re to blame?”

He paused, shaking his head as he gathered his thoughts. “I have no doubt that you will defeat her, love, but it’s not only your combat skills that are going to take her down.”

Killian believed in her. She’d known it since the very beginning, but her doubt had been strong enough to convince her it was a misled belief. But now, with his head bent in reverence and his startling eyes that wouldn’t waver from hers, she had no choice but to accept his words as truth.

The guilt and the doubt didn’t evaporate into nothing, but their power over her waned.

Emma nodded—acknowledgement, gratitude, something else, she wasn’t sure—and they ventured into safer, less dramatic topics that allowed for a lighter atmosphere to settle over them.

Watching the ship, as it turned out, was not the most interesting job. There was very little for them to do except wait for the others to return, though Emma was relieved for something unexciting for a change. She needed the respite much more than she’d realized, and though the absence of constant panic was almost jarring enough to cause panic itself, she convinced herself that she was secure for the afternoon.

The first interruption to her temporary peace came when a figure appeared on the dock a few steps from the gangplank. Killian and Emma stood, their hands reaching for their swords in a synchronized motion that made the stranger chuckle softly.

“Exactly as Red described,” the woman said, pushing her hood back to reveal a heart-shaped face and blonde hair that was piled atop her head. “Permission to come aboard, Captain?” she asked, looking expectantly at Emma.

Emma relaxed at the mention of her godmother, but she did not alter her posture to show it. She nodded sharply, and Killian stepped forward to put himself between her and the stranger. The action wasn’t shocking or offensive to Emma’s pride; instead, it asserted the rank she held and the loyalty of those who followed her.

The woman was petite, but she moved with the surety of someone who had seen hardship and battle. “They call me Tink,” she informed them once she’d boarded. “I was told I could find you here.”

It took everything in Emma’s power not to revert to her diplomatic training. She could not smile politely, could not offer refreshments or entertainment. Here, she had to appear coarse and immoveable like the captain she was supposed to be, at least until they knew Tink could be trusted.

Killian, following her lead as always, did not falter to play his part. “What is your business here?”

“Friends of yours—Red and Liam—told me you’re looking for a few additions to your crew. I’d like to offer my services,” Tink said, unshaken by their front.

“Why?” Emma asked, and her gut pinched at the rude tone in her voice.

A smile spread across Tink’s face as she paused before speaking. “Well, they’d hardly tell me, would they?” She laughed at her own joke, and then continued, “But they seemed significantly more interested once they learned about my dislike for the Evil Queen, so I suspect that’s got something to do with it.”

“You have a personal vendetta?” Killian asked, though it didn’t quite seem like that much of a question.

Tink’s arms folded across her chest, the smile disappearing from her lips. “I’m an ex-fairy,” she replied, “and let’s just say that before I met Regina, I was not an ex-fairy.”

“And now you’re looking for revenge,” Killian offered.

“Justice,” Tink corrected. “But yes, I’d like to help in the fight against her.”

Emma glanced at Killian just as he was turning back to her, and their eyes locked for a moment. Had Red and Liam been there to witness the silent conversation that passed, there would have been a hushed discussion between them later. Without them there, the only acknowledgement of the event was Tink who smiled to herself.

“Joining this crew would guarantee a death at her hand if we’re caught,” Emma warned, her demeanor nearly returning to normal with Tink’s objective revealed.

Tink cocked her head slightly, her wide eyes studying Emma with a level of perception neither she nor Killian could comprehend. “You’re not just a captain, are you?”

“No.”

“You’re someone special,” Tink added, “I may not be a fairy anymore, but I can still feel it. Who are you?”

At this question, Killian tensed, his eyes scanning their surroundings. Once he’d determined that there was no one close enough to become a threat, he looked back at Emma, another silent inquiry.

Emma moved, a hand on his shoulder to calm him as she passed, and when she stood directly in front of Tink, she almost felt like the princess she hadn’t been in months.

“My name is Emma, and I am the daughter of Snow White and Prince Charming.”

The shock on Tink’s face was less than Emma had anticipated, but the grin that replaced it eased her worries. “I knew you weren’t just running,” she said, “and I would be honored to join you in saving your kingdom and your family. Beating Regina is simply a bonus.”

Emma offered her hand to shake, and Tink accepted both the gesture and the wordless accord that came with it. “Welcome aboard,” Emma said.

Emma returned above deck from checking the storeroom with Terry, finding Killian speaking with Tink and the other sailor who had been sent by Red and Liam before the suppliers had made their way back.

August Booth was a man who could be charming when he wished to be, but the scowl that had overtaken his expression upon the mention of the Evil Queen left Emma with no doubt of his loyalty. He asked fewer questions than Tink, but his curious eyes were revealing to anyone who cared to look.

To any passing observer, Killian looked relaxed as he stood before the two crew members. His shoulders were back, his left hand resting casually against the hilt of his sword. But Emma could tell by the angle of his neck that he was watching the pier for unexpected visitors, and the set of his feet prepared him for a fight.

“It’s definitely a step up from the last ship I sailed on,” Tink said, her nose wrinkling at a distasteful memory.

“I’m afraid my sailing experience is limited to what I’ve learned in the last few months,” August said with a glance towards Killian, “but I’ve been told that I’m a fast learner, so I hope the captain won’t throw me off at the next port.”

Killian chuckled, “So long as you follow orders, you’ll be fine.”

Emma was pleased to find that Killian had warmed somewhat to August, as he’d been uncharacteristically sharp upon meeting him. While Emma had eased into the topic of the Evil Queen, Killian had been skeptical and quick to determine August’s exact beliefs regarding Emma’s family. August’s father had been murdered when Regina had torn apart the village outside the castle, and though Emma read his grief and anger as nothing threatening to her, Killian had bluntly asked if August found the former king and queen at fault in the tragedy.

Now she leaned casually against the mainmast, neither announcing herself nor bothering to hide to effectively eavesdrop as she watched the group while they talked.

“I’ve heard that the princess is quite the fighter,” August added, studying Killian carefully as he spoke.

It was not the sun that brought red to Killian’s cheeks and to the tips of his ears. “Aye, I have yet to see her equal,” he admitted, making no attempt to mask the pride in his voice.

“Do you suppose she’d agree to a demonstration later?” Tink wondered.

“We could prove our worth with a sword,” August offered, grinning at the prospect.

“You’d have to ask her yourself,” Killian replied. “I’d be happy to spar with you both if you’d like. I don’t pretend to be as skilled as the princess, but I can manage well enough.”

Before Emma could interrupt to agree to the demonstration, a creak of the wood and a flash of movement from the corner of her eye brought her attention away from them. Her defensive instincts sputtered when she recognized Red and Liam, though the third person to step onto the gangplank was a stranger to her.

Killian reacted as she’d expected him to, turning away from Tink and August to meet his brother. They exchanged a nod that held unspoken words, and when Killian stood before the potential crew member, his body language conveyed his reserve. Tink and August fell back, acknowledging Red and Liam without moving towards the man.

“This is Will Scarlet,” Red announced, not meeting Emma’s gaze though she was aware of her presence.

Will Scarlet had no scabbard to hold his sword, but rather a knife that was secured in a leather casing along his belt. His lips were pressed into a tight line, his gaze traveling from each person until it settled on Emma, and she had a feeling that he knew more than he should’ve with a single glance. It was the kind of thing that one learned when forced to, the ability to read a person’s intentions by their movements and everything they did not say.

“I suppose you’re the captain,” he said, causing every eye to shoot towards her. His tone was casual, unaffected, but there was a gravity in his posture that revealed something much more intense.

Emma nodded slowly, but she didn’t move from her position as she leaned against the mast. Her gaze drifted from Will to Killian in a flicker, but she focused back on the stranger before a second had passed.

“I hope our choices have been acceptable thus far, Captain,” Liam said, more a question than a statement. The tone was unfitting of the camaraderie they’d achieved, maintaining the pretense of rank in front of Will.

“Indeed,” Emma replied. She paused, testing the bounds of their attentiveness and therefore respect. No one moved, no one breathed, all waiting for her to speak as they knew she would. There were many differences between acting as a captain and acting as a princess, but commanding the attention of a room, or a deck, was a similarity.

“I was about to consent to a sparring exercise—a demonstration, if you will—for our new recruits when you arrived,” she continued. When her eyes landed on Will, she made a show of studying him. “I assume that you carry no sword because you have no need of one,” she added.

The corners of his lips twitched, his hand patting the leather case that held his knife. “They’re a waste of metal, if you ask me,” he told her, “I prefer to keep things simple.”

She hummed, gauging his expression to determine if he boasted a skill level that he did not possess. “And you believe that you deserve a place on this ship?” she asked, pushing his temper, his pride, to see if she could find a weak spot.

“What I do or do not deserve isn’t important, is it?” he replied, a grumbling sound that came from his throat that revealed either a mild irritation or anger directed towards a third party. “The way I see it, it’s what the Evil Queen deserves that really matters,” he nearly spat, though there was no lack of control in his voice.

Emma, though she couldn’t admit it without first determining Will’s loyalty, was impressed. His eyes burned with a familiar enduring rage that she had seen each time she’d looked in the mirror.

“I’m guessing you’re aware of the risks you’d be taking should you join us?” Emma asked, measuring each shift in his expression for anything alarming.

“I’d hardly be here if I couldn’t face the consequences,” Will said. “And you’re not the first crusade against the Evil Queen that I’ve joined, although Red seems to think you’d give me a better chance than that lot ever did.”

“We beat her or we die trying,” Emma told him as she pushed herself off the mast and moved a few steps towards him, all the ferocity she’d been attempting to hide away behind the sadness and the guilt leaking out in her voice. “Are you ready for that?”

Will grinned, his eyes darkening. “You can count on it, Captain.”

Emma didn’t wait more than a moment before she turned to face the others. “Red, fill him in. Liam, make sure Terry’s ready to set sail and get us going. I want us in the wind before sunset, and we’ve got a prisoner to hand over before we can leave,” she ordered, though her tone had dropped the unforgiving command as she surrendered her facade. “Killian, show our newest allies to their quarters once Scarlet has been briefed, and then I’d like you and your brother to join me in escorting Silver off this ship.”

No one hesitated to obey the second she finished speaking, and though Killian lingered to hold her gaze for a long moment, he said nothing. Emma could not regret this, because there was no lack of communication in his sparkling eyes.

Violence had always been a part of her life. It was a byproduct of her existence, a necessity, a simple truth. But before her last ride from the castle, she had never considered herself a violent person. True violence was always accompanied with a driving force beyond rationality, perhaps a hatred, a passionate fury, or bloodlust. Those particular feelings did not promote impartiality or decorum, and they had certainly never been a part of her training. But as Emma walked behind the Jones brothers, watching Silver stumble and fight against his restraints and the firm hands of Killian and Liam, she felt at least two of those three feelings.

He hadn’t come quietly, neither physically nor verbally passive, and the bit of cloth preventing him from speaking had been a necessary addition. He had swung at her and at the brothers, he had tried to kick and scratch at them before the rope had limited his movements, but none of that had affected her the way his words had.

It was not his insults towards her that had stirred the violent feelings she felt now, but rather it was his cutting remarks aimed at Liam and Killian that had led to the swelling cheek he now brandished.

She had known cruelty—hell, she had looked it in the eye and watched its wine-colored lips smile at her—but she had never known it quite like this. Because Silver held no power. He would hang, he would die, he would never be seen by any of them again, and yet he still attempted to slice at the brothers and prod every wound he believed they had. He was a desperate man, she knew. He was a coward. He was a fool.

Silver was defenseless, hopeless, powerless, and yet Emma still wished to draw her sword and cut him the way he’d tried to cut the Jones brothers.

Her hand curled around the hilt of her sword, her grip so tight that it nearly hurt her to hold it. She focused on her steps rather than the anger that swirled in her chest, the hatred that shuddered in her stomach and traveled up to her shoulders and made them tremble as she restrained herself.

Liam spoke quickly and efficiently with the jailor when they arrived, and Emma kept herself three paces behind them to prevent her violence from pushing her to interfere. There were a few formalities that took some time to sort out, some documents to sign verifying witnesses, and the only thing that held Emma back was the look on Killian’s face.

It didn’t lack the anger she felt, but his was the expression of a man resolved. He accepted Silver’s fate and wished for nothing more. His fists did not clench in preparation of beating him, his lips did not part to issue his sentence or even a parting taunt that bragged of flipped roles or lost and gained freedom. If Killian could watch the man who had carved lines into his back with near equanimity, what right did she have to act on her desires?

She signed her name Emma Swan, gave Silver one last pointed glare, and then she led the brothers back towards their ship, eager to put as much distance as possible between them and this port.

#How Restlessly the Stars Do Gleam #captain swan #captain swan fanfic #once upon a time #ouat #ouat fanfic #cs fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 #chapter 3 #cs ff

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