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mysterioushogwartsrequests · 4 years

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Starry Skies, Starry Eyes

Request: Hello! I want to request something with Sirius too!! But with an age gap and Hogwarts Mystery MC. Can you write something like that?

This literally took me forever to write and I just want to get it out there. I hope the ending is alright, I had quite a bit of trouble figuring out the last parts, but I think it all came together in the end.

Edit: I am not quite sure what happened, but for some reason Tumblr deleted my story? It’s currently four in the morning and I just realized this so I have to fix it or else it is going to bother me all night. Anyways, it should be fine now! I hope you enjoy!

Note: I will write a part 2 for this story in the future! I’ve noticed the comments asking for more and I’ve already got some ideas.

Summary: Auror training was not going as planned. Now, (Y/N) (L/N) is staying at Number 12 Grimmauld Place with its only known resident, Sirius Black.

A small thumping sound resonated through the quiet halls of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Along with the maniacal murmurs of the Kreacher the House Elf occasionally adding to the noise. The commencement of the Hogwarts school year meant that few guests came through the home, effectively darkening the mood of one of its permanent residents.

Sirius Black lay atop a surprisingly plush mattress, casually tossing a rubber ball against the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. As he effortlessly caught the small ball in his hands, Sirius wondered how Harry could be doing at school and how he could improve to become a suitable fatherly figure for his beloved godson. This initiative proved difficult considering the restrictions set up by Albus Dumbledore. Underneath his leadership, Sirius was to remain in Grimmauld Place until it was determined safe for him to venture beyond the house walls. However, as the days passed by, Sirius’s optimism of stepping outside slowly diminished and thought it would be best to stop thinking about this improbable idea.

But before Sirius could give up his hopes of happiness, she arrived.

Downstairs, the front door opened, and two women stepped into the spotless home. From the way the mirrors shone, it was apparent they spent a lot of time transforming it into suitable headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. The first woman swiftly moved through the house, already familiar with its surroundings, “He should be here somewhere,” she announced, her bright pink hair clashing horribly with the emerald green walls.

The second woman followed her cautiously, scanning her unfamiliar surroundings, and mentally noting the details that stood out to her. “Y’know,” she started, grimacing at the meticulously preserved heads of house-elves beside her when they ascended the stairs, “when I first became an Auror, I didn’t quite expect to be babysitting a notorious murderer”

(Y/N) (L/N) had never been the type to feel unnerved. She had always taken pride in her ability to keep calm, especially in situations of immense danger. So, it was safe to say she was not enjoying the malaise developing within her.

Nymphadora Tonks rolled her eyes, a hint of notable annoyance as she reiterated her point for the third time that afternoon, “It wasn’t him, all right? It was Pettigrew who caused all that trouble, Sirius is completely innocent.”

A large part of (Y/N) wholeheartedly believed Tonks, but another, slightly gruffer voice kept ringing through her head,

“Constant vigilance!”

Reminded of Mad-Eye Moody’s teachings, she thought it best to remain cautious, just in case.

“I’m sorry,” added (Y/N), knowing she had offended her friend. Tonks gave her a small nod, accepting her apology as she led her past the multiple bedrooms on the second story. Halting at a door with the name “Sirius” intricately carved on a silver nameplate, Tonks raised her hand. “Black, are you in there?” she asked, knocking on the bedroom door.

“Yes, but, it seems I’ll have to find a better hiding place next time,” Sirius spoke up, casually confirming his presence within the room, “You found me rather quickly”

Tonks opened the door, a smile on her face when her eyes landed on Sirius, “You gave away your position by doing that,” she said, pointing at the ceiling as the ball bounced back into his hand.

Sirius clutched the ball tightly and sat up from his bed, “I suppose you’re right,” he said, the already faint smile on his face vanishing as he became aware of the stranger in his home, “What’s going on?” He asked, masking his rousing irritation.

Disregarding his obvious displeasure, (Y/N) subtly examined his appearance. This could not be the same person in the Azkaban wanted pamphlets. She had expected a worn-down, angry wizard with incredibly long, matted hair. But instead, she locked eyes with a devilishly handsome, well-kept, older gentleman wearing brown, pinstripe robes. (Y/N) mustered up a casual smile, pushing away her bewilderment but unable to hide the faint blush on her cheeks.

Tonks frowned at Sirius’s disappointment, “Well,” she began, placing her hands on (Y/N)’s shoulders, “(Y/N)’s just started her Auror training and Mad-Eye’s instructed her here for the time being,” Tonks gently pulled (Y/N) into the room as she spoke, “It won’t be for long,” she added, noting Sirius’s sour expression, “And at least you’ll have human company.”

Sirius eyed the (h/c) haired woman standing in his bedroom suspiciously. Indeed, he found it quite odd that Mad-Eye would send a trainee into isolation but decided against mentioning it. The idea of letting a stranger into his home without warning did not sit well with him, but he could not deny the presence of someone he could have a pleasant conversation with.

“All right,” Sirius said, rising from his seat and walking over to the two women.

(Y/N) swallowed nervously, impulsively trying to calculate the height of the man making his way towards her. It was not until he stood in front of her with his hand extended that she came to the possible solution of six feet. With her heart thumping against her chest, (Y/N) stretched out her arm and grasped his expecting hand firmly.

“(Y/N) (L/N),” she stated formally, looking up at Sirius with a confident smile as they shook hands.

Sirius mentally applauded her firm grip, a smile appearing at his lips, “Sirius Black, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He caught sight of the sparkle in her eyes, those bright eyes filled with stars reflective of her optimism and was instantly charmed. The two of them stood there, looking interestedly at each other, their attention devoted to something other than their handshake.

Tonks’s eyes bounced from Sirius to (Y/N), an odd feeling settling over her, but unaware as to what it could be, “Well,” she announced, now that the pair seemed to be getting along, “I’ve better get going, Mad-Eye’s waiting for me.” she declared, sensing this would be the best time to make her exit, and swiftly made her way out of the room.

Startled by her sudden declaration, (Y/N) turned to follow Tonks, who was already half-way down the stairs, “Wait!” she called, rushing after her friend, “Tonks, hold on!”

Hearing (Y/N)’s yells, Sirius stalked out of his bedroom and quickly followed after them, “Don’t yell,” he hissed, but his warning was ignored. With another cry of her name, Tonks turned, her arms raised warningly towards the curtains which had flown open. The woman in the, now exposed, painting took a singular glance towards Nymphadora Tonks and let out an ear-splitting screech.

“Filth! In my sacred home!” screamed the portrait of Walburga Black, her eyes then narrowing towards her son, “Shame of my flesh! Traitors!”

Sirius, with a swift flick of his hand, closed the long, green curtains and silenced his mother, his previous look of displeasure returning to his face.

“I’m sorry,” apologized (Y/N), looking up at Sirius from the bottom of the stairs, a frown appearing on her face.

“It’s fine,” Sirius replied exasperatedly, “...just don’t scream down the hallway, okay?” he added and retreated towards his room. (Y/N) solemnly watched Sirius leave, her eyes lingering on the curtains of the concealed portrait before turning towards her friend.

“What am I supposed to say to him?” asked (Y/N), gripping Tonks’s wrist before she could get away, “He wasn’t exactly pleased to have someone here.”

Tonks shook her head, patting her friend on the shoulder, “He's just going through some things right now, but he’ll ease up.” she added reassuringly, “I haven’t known him for exceptionally long, but he is part of my family so I know you’ll be alright.”

(Y/N) was aware of their familial connection, having been informed by Tonks before their arrival and she could not deny that this information settled some of her nerves, but not all. However, her trust in Nymphadora Tonks outweighed her suspicions. The two had experienced a lot during their time at Hogwarts and Tonks’s judgment usually supplied positive outcomes.

“I trust you,” (Y/N) said, releasing Tonks’s arm and hugging her, “Good luck with Mad-Eye, show them who's boss”

Tonks laughed as she embraced her former classmate, “As if I don’t do that already,” she stated confidently, reaching for the silver door handle, “But I’ve really got to go, I’m already late.”

(Y/N) nodded and watched Tonks exit the home, taking the time to lock the door before looking back towards the empty stairs. What Tonks had said about Mad-Eye assigning her to Grimmauld Place was not entirely untrue, but she had purposely left out the details of Albus Dumbledore’s involvement.

She was not sure why Dumbledore had sent her to keep an eye on Sirius Black, but she gratefully took the opportunity and packed her bags. But, as she assessed her current situation, (Y/N)’s mind fell on a particularly important thought:

“Where am I going to sleep?”

---

The temperature began to drop during the late weeks of October, and a substantial amount of rainfall washed over the country. Three weeks had passed since (Y/N)’s initial arrival and she found that her time at Grimmauld Place was rather pleasant. Unlike Sirius, (Y/N) could venture out of the home and occasionally found herself at the nearby marketplace, buying ingredients for her meals, or reviewing her books at the cozy coffee shop down the street. However, she also spent a lot of her time, albeit alone, wandering around Grimmauld Place, and learning the history of the ancient Black Family.

Even though she was surrounded by reminders of the Black family, (Y/N) couldn't help noting the unmistakable absence of its last living descendant. The two of them had, surprisingly, enjoyed each other’s company more than they had expected and usually saw each other during mealtimes. Sirius had also, to (Y/N)’s bewilderment, offered his help when he had caught her practicing her Transfiguration.

Despite receiving excellent marks in her examinations, (Y/N) constantly struggled with Human Transfiguration which put a damper on her “Concealment and Disguises” training results. On a particularly stormy night, (Y/N) decided to practice her spell-work in the kitchen, in front of the large mirror that hung in the room. She had successfully transfigured her hair into a shade of cotton candy blue but failed at altering the size of her nose.

Letting out a small gasp of horror and pain, (Y/N)’s hand flew to her face, her fingers grazing the small bump and unusual slant of her new nose. She only viewed her reflection for a split second, nervously covering up her face as her eyes landed on the comically large witch’s nose that had replaced her normal one.

Keeping a hand over her face, (Y/N) flipped through the pages of her book, searching desperately for a counterspell. However, as she ran through her book, the door to the kitchen swung open and someone lazily entered the room.

At first, Sirius did not seem to notice (Y/N). Like her, he was having a particularly tough time falling asleep but hoped a late-night snack would do the trick. However, he quickly became aware of her presence when the noise of her clumsily collapsing into a chair filled the room.

Raising his eyebrows, Sirius poured himself a glass of milk and acknowledged her jittery behavior. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, wiping away the milk droplets collecting at the side of his mouth. Sirius took a second to admire her new hair color, grinning as he added, “I like the new look.”

(Y/N) blushed at the sudden compliment, but nodded her head, a little too enthusiastically, in response, “Y-Yes! But I think I’ll head upstairs now!” she said, rising from her seat.

Although he did not mention it, Sirius knew (Y/N) was practicing her Transfiguration in the kitchen. The open book, specifically on a page regarding “Human Transfiguration and it’s counterspells,” and her wand strewn across the black, tiled floor were enough to confirm his theory. He was also aware that her last spell must’ve malfunctioned and that she was now struggling to revert it. However, he wasn’t sure how she would respond to his assistance and debated his next move.

(Y/N) had never requested his help before, but it was clear to him, due to her obvious distress, that he must do so. Sirius caught her before she could dash out of the room, his fingers delicately wrapping around the wrist of the hand that covered her face. Clearing his throat, he looked down at (Y/N), his grey eyes meeting hers, “Let me see.”

To her surprise, (Y/N) did not tense up at the feel of Sirius’s touch. Instead, she found herself relaxing underneath his unusually comforting gaze. This was only the second time she had stood this close to Sirius, the first being when she arrived, but her heart still beat the same way, thumping loudly against her ribcage. (Y/N) relaxed her arm, letting Sirius guide it away from her face to reveal the heavily crooked nose.

“It’s awful,” murmured (Y/N), turning her face away from his when his eyes widened in shock. She was already embarrassed and having a Senior Member of The Order of the Phoenix witnessing her mistake mortified her.

For the first time in weeks, unable to retain his composure, Sirius Black burst out laughing, clutching his stomach as he doubled over, “I’m sorry,” he forced out, wiping away the tears in his eyes as he smiled down at (Y/N)’s shocked expression, “But that nose makes you look completely ridiculous.”

(Y/N) scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest when he laughed, “I’m perfectly aware of that!” She stated angrily, “I wasn’t trying for a Witch’s nose! I was going for more of a Roman look like the book said” she said, gesturing towards her open book.

“Don’t worry,” added Sirius, retrieving his wand from his pocket, and directing it towards her face, “We’ll try again.” Muttering a spell, Sirius flicked his wand and a flash of blue appeared from the tip. Within seconds, (Y/N) felt her abnormally large nose shrinking to its usual size, enthusiastically turning towards the mirror when the transformation finished.

“Thank you!” she exclaimed happily, picking up her wand from the floor, “But what do you mean we’ll try?” she asked, recalling what he had said.

“It means, I’m going to teach you” started Sirius, lifting up the book from the table, “But we really won’t be needing this,” he added, slamming it shut and tossing it to the side with a large grin, “That is if you want my help.”

(Y/N) considered his proposal, surely having an actual teacher would help her improve since he could give her feedback and he was an experienced wizard. Surely, there was no harm in letting him help.

Nodding eagerly, (Y/N) grinned up at Sirius, “Where do we start?”

But some time had passed since their last encounter and her lessons with Sirius suddenly fell short. (Y/N) had not seen him for a week and was beginning to worry about his well-being. Sirius had stopped sharing his meals with her and refused to come out of his bedroom. During this time, (Y/N) had decided against intruding and hoped he would come around just as Tonks said. But as she sat alone in the kitchen, she began to wonder why Sirius would suddenly disappear.

Taking a glance at the enchanted calendar near the refrigerator, (Y/N) read the date October 29th scrawled at the top. Closing her copy of Moste Potente Potions, she paced around the kitchen, taking a moment to consider the situation.

“Maybe, I can make something to cheer him up,” She thought, scanning through the numerous recipe books, which had collected a substantial amount of dust through the years due to lack of use. (Y/N) picked out a tattered book on baking, running her hand over the hardcover to clean it off. She was not entirely sure what type of treats Sirius would enjoy but got to work with newfound determination.

“After all,” began (Y/N) to no one in particular, taking out a large tray, “Problem-solving is part of being an Auror”

---

Upstairs sat a man clutching an old portrait in his hands, a single tear sliding down the tip of his nose and onto the glass. Sirius lifted his hand and wiped away the tear-stained surface, the smiling face of James Potter throwing him a playful wink with his arm wrapped around Lily Evans.

As the anniversary of their death approached, Sirius Black recalled his final conversations with his best friend, urging him to choose Peter Pettigrew as their secret keeper instead of him. Sirius glared down at his former friend, Peter shyly waving towards the couple as the younger versions of himself and Remus Lupin approaching him bearing wide grins.

“Damn it!” exclaimed Sirius angrily, tossing the picture onto his bed and burying his face in his hands. These intrusive thoughts had plagued Sirius ever since that Halloween night at Godric’s Hollow. How he should’ve realized Wormtail’s odd behavior during their meetings.

How it should’ve been him that perished that night and not his best friends, who had just happily begun their domestic life with their baby boy.

Sirius wished for nothing more than to be able to turn back time and fix everything. But he couldn’t. All he could do was-

“Sirius?” A soft voice called from the other side of the door, a light knock following her voice. Taking a deep breath, Sirius wiped his face, rose from his bed, and stepped towards the door.

(Y/N) stared up at the silver nameplate, nervously tapping her foot as she debated calling his name once again. In her hands, she carried a freshly baked pumpkin pasty on a small silver platter.

“Just act normal,” she thought as she waited for Sirius’s reply, “Be calm.” But despite her constant pep-talks, (Y/N)’s nerves skyrocketed once the door to Sirius’s bedroom swung open.

Right off the bat, she could tell something was wrong. The Sirius that stood before her had puffy, red eyes and bore the expression of someone who had spent a significant amount of time crying.

“Yes?” He asked in a steady voice, one that completely betrayed his appearance.

“W-Well, I was just in the kitchen making some, uh, pumpkin pasties” She started, raising the silver platter, “And I thought since I haven't seen you in a while, that I would bring you one…” (Y/N) hadn’t realized she was no longer looking up at Sirius or that she was tapping her finger nervously against the platter, “Because I was worried… about you” she finished, meeting Sirius’s surprised expression.

Worried? About him? Sirius’s eyes shifted from the delectable treat to (Y/N)’s bright, (e/c) eyes, surprised by her genuine act of kindness. He was not surrounded by thoughtfulness or generosity while he was in Azkaban so having (Y/N), a woman he barely just met, go out of her way for him was undeniably heartwarming. Slowly, he picked up the pasty, enjoying the warmth of the dough radiating into his palm, and took a bite.

The delightful combination of pumpkin puree and cinnamon instantly covering his tastebuds, the dough practically melting in his mouth. He finished his treat and cleaned off the remnants of the pumpkin filling on his fingers. Clearing his throat, Sirius reached out and pulled (Y/N) in for a tight hug, “Thank you,” he uttered, his head resting on top of hers, “and… I’m sorry for making you worry”

(Y/N) gasped when Sirius pulled her in, the feeling of his arms around her waist making her blush instantly. Although she had speculated how Sirius would react, she certainly did not expect him to hug her, much less utter an apology. (Y/N) let her arms wrap around his larger frame, her free hand patting his back lightly, “You don’t have to apologize,” she replied, her head resting against his chest.

“But I do,” Sirius cut in, “I promised I’d help you and all I’ve done is hide....” He said, releasing his grip to look down at her, “And that wasn’t right.”

(Y/N)’s words suddenly failed her, the feeling of Sirius brushing a strand of hair behind her ear made her heart flutter. Sirius smiled down at her before releasing her, “Now, why don’t we go have some more of those delicious pasties?” He joked, gesturing towards the stairs.

“I guess it’s my turn to apologize,” (Y/N) muttered sheepishly, “I kind of made a mess in the kitchen…” but Sirius only laughed at her remarks, stretching his hand out towards her.

“Kreacher will handle the cleanup” he added, “Besides, you’ve done all the baking so it’s natural for you to now.”

“You do make a great point, Black,” (Y/N) replied, a grin spreading across her face as she took Sirius’s hand and followed him down the stairs.

---

It was now early December, and the excitement of the Christmas holidays began to settle over the inhabitants of Grimmauld Place. In a few weeks, Harry Potter would be let out of Hogwarts and Sirius had spent most of his time preparing for his arrival.

When he wasn’t cleaning, Sirius helped (Y/N) with her Transfiguration and often spent their time in the kitchen, searching for recipes they could use on Christmas Day. Today, however, the two of them decided to take a break to relax and enjoy themselves.

In the sitting room, Sirius laid across one of the couches, happily munching on some shortbread cookies they had previously made. (Y/N) sat at the piano, randomly plucking at keys, enjoying the faint sound of the fire crackling from within the fireplace.

“So,” Sirius started, resuming their game of twenty questions, that had now gone past the initial twenty, “Hogwarts House?” He asked, crossing his arms behind his head.

“Oh, we’re back to basics, aren’t we?” (Y/N) joked, earning another laugh from Sirius while she played one final glissando before swiveling on the bench, “I consider myself an observant person and I’ve noticed that you seem to be the only Gryffindor in a home of Slytherins”

Sirius raised a questioning eyebrow, “Your observations would be correct,” he replied, “But, I don’t remember asking what you think my house was” Sirius teased, reaching for another cookie.

“Now, you can’t get upset,” (Y/N) started, playfully raising her hands defensively, “but I was a part of Slytherin house.”

At her words, Sirius choked on his cookie, shot up into a seating position and began coughing up crumbs. Once he caught his breath, he shook his head, “You?! A Slytherin?” He asked in bewilderment, wondering if she was just playing a practical joke on him.

But (Y/N) only nodded confidently, “and I’m proud of it, thank you very much!” She stated, shooting him a wink from her seat at the piano. It was safe to say (Y/N) had grown quite comfortable around Sirius and had no trouble following through her flirtatious remarks.

“Blimey, you really had me fooled,” Sirius laughed, falling back onto the couch, “I never thought a Slytherin would worry as much as you do”

(Y/N) scoffed impishly, placing her hand over her heart, “That hurts, Black. I didn’t take you for the stereotypical type” she quipped, rising from the bench to rest on the couch opposite of Sirius. “Besides,” she added, snatching up a cookie for herself and taking a bite, “I’ve worn my old house scarf plenty of times, I’m surprised you didn’t notice it then.”

Sirius gave a hearty laugh, raising his arms up defensively like she had done before, “Sorry, doll” he apologized, looking over at her with a smirk, “But I’ve been too busy looking at that pretty face of yours to pay attention to some old scarf,” Sirius complimented smoothly, chuckling at the dark blush painting your cheeks.

“Have you always been this charming?” asked (Y/N) in a joking manner, turning on her side so her body was facing Sirius’s.

“That counts as your next question,” Sirius hummed, tapping his index finger against his temple in acknowledgment, “I’d like to say so, I’m quite flattered you find me charming” he admitted while nodding his head contentedly. He turned his head to look at her once again, eyes raking over her body in silent admiration.

Sirius felt odd. He would’ve never imagined that he and (Y/N) would get along so well, much less spend days lounging around until the wee hours staring up at the newly enchanted ceiling getting to know each other. In an attempt to raise Sirius’s spirits, (Y/N) had bewitched the ceiling to resemble the starry night’s sky. Just the two of laying over a blanket with Sirius expertly pointing out the various star clusters until she felt asleep at his side.

He never woke her when she fell asleep. Instead, he scooped her up from the ground and tucked her into her bed without complaints. Sirius didn’t quite understand why, but there was something refreshing about the angelic look of peace on her face and the her soft smile never failed at brightening his mood.

“Do you miss them?” asked (Y/N), redirecting their conversation to the stars above them, “Your family, I mean”

Sirius remained silent, his eyes shifting back towards the bewitched ceiling to find the Leo constellation. He stared up at the brightest star in that formation, the name Regulus scrawled around in tiny cursive letters.

“Some of them,” he replied gloomily, “Sometimes I recall the lousy Pureblood parties I attended when I was younger and remember playing with my brother and cousins… before it all went to shit,” Sirius explained, his eyes trailing over the various constellations to find ‘Andromeda’, “My Mother, on the other hand, was a foul old hag. If I could, I’d remove that portrait of her and burn it to ashes, but it seems she thought ahead and permanently stuck herself to the wall.”

(Y/N) hadn’t expected such an honest reply from Sirius. In all honesty, she thought he would brush her remark to the side or make a joke about how that’s her second question.

“I miss them too,” she added, feeling compelled to share a story of her own, “My parents passed when I was incredibly young, and my older brother disappeared for quite a while. I thought- well, I hoped to find him alive, but when I did… he wasn’t the same,” (Y/N) explained with a frown, “He looked sick, raving about blood-status, how we were all in danger and then I saw it. On his left arm, the Dark Mark on my brother’s arm and I froze, like an imbecile.”

Sirius pulled his eyes away from the ceiling as she told her story, frowning slightly at the glossy eyes that never met his. (Y/N) sniffled slightly, running her index finger underneath her eye to collect the tears that threatened to spill, “He raised his wand at me, he told me I had seen too much and that I couldn’t leave, but I couldn’t react,” She paused to take a deep breath, “But Mad-Eye was there and he finished my brother off before he could hurt me.”

Then she fell silent, sniffling softly before letting out a soft chuckle, “Some way to start off Auror training, right?” joked (Y/N), looking towards Sirius who met her tearful gaze with a solemn expression, “Wow, Sirius…I’ve never seen you look so concerned”

Sirius’s eyes widened slightly and he cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away from hers in embarrassment, “I’m sorry about your brother,” he replied, choosing to ignore her comment, “I know what it’s like to lose one too.” He admitted, looking back at her with a sorrowful smile.

“See, we’re not as different as we thought we were,” (Y/N) declared, sitting up on the couch, “Thank you for telling me about your family,” She said to Sirius, her gaze locked with his, “And for helping me with my magic.”

Sirius smiled softly, rose from his seat on the couch, and walked over to (Y/N), extending a hand out towards her, “No, thank you,” he admitted, “You’ve brought me happiness in this hell hole, I never thought I’d make happy memories here again”

(Y/N) slipped her hand into his and stood up from her seat, “I’m glad I could help,” she breathed, lightly squeezing Sirius’s hand. The two of them stood, hand in hand, in silence, each contemplating their next move. With a small inhale, (Y/N) rose to her tiptoes, pressed her lips against Sirius’s cheek, and quickly slinked out of the room.

Sirius looked back, but he stood alone in the empty room, the tip of his finger trailing the spot where her lips had been.

“Charming” he uttered to himself, letting out a small chuckle before exiting the room with another shortbread cookie in hand.

---

Only a couple of people had taken note of Sirius’s interesting behavior. How he would stand up every time (Y/N) entered or exited a room, how he would slide her chair in while she sat, and how close the two of them would stand whenever they were cooking.

(Y/N) leaned up against the countertops, sipping her hot chocolate as Tonks rambled on about her latest expedition with Moody. She smiled at her friend’s stories, recalling the times in the Clocktower Courtyard where they could only speculate what their future would’ve been like.

“And what about you?” Questioned Tonks, a knowing smile playing at her lips as she leaned in closer to her friend, “Anything interesting to report?”

“Yes, actually,” (Y/N) declared confidently, setting her mug down, “I’ve gotten quite good at human transfiguration and I’m certain I will pass the disguise portion of the exam now.”

Tonks gave a nod of encouragement, but rolled her eyes in disappointment, “Do you ever think about anything else?” She asked teasingly, “Don’t get me wrong, it’s brilliant that you’re focusing on your training, but what else have you done?”

(Y/N) raised her eyebrows inquisitively, “Well-” she cleared her throat, “I’ve gone to the bookstore a couple of times, baked, and I’ve had dinner with Sirius” she started, her mind drifting to the many evenings they had shared together, “Oh, you missed it. We enchanted the ceiling to look like the night’s sky, it would keep moving so you could see all the star constellations, like a large map.” (Y/N) explained dreamily, her eyes twinkling with excitement as she continued, “We would lay in the sitting room talking and then, the next morning I would wake up in my bed with no recollection of ever getting there.”

There was a small pause, “I told him about my brother,” (Y/N) admitted quietly, her eyes trained towards the wooden floorboard, “and he told me about his family, your mum,” she added, looking back to meet Tonks’s gaze, “and his brother.”

Tonks looked extremely surprised, she pursed her lips momentarily before awkwardly scratching the back of her neck, “I never expected him to tell you that,” she admitted dejectedly, but a smile quickly replaced her sad expression, “Sirius is a good man, Remus tells me stories from when they were at school together,” she explained excitedly, “It’s a good thing we weren’t walking the corridors together”

The schoolmates laughed wholeheartedly, holding each other’s hands as they finished their hot chocolate, “I reckon we would’ve given them a run for their money if we did,” she added with a wink and the two friends embraced.

“Merry Christmas, Tonks,” (Y/N) muttered, tightening her arms around her friend and Tonks did so in response.

“Merry Christmas, and to many more” grinned Tonks, “Maybe we’ll both be Aurors by the next one” she joked, nudging her on the side as people flooded into the kitchen.

(Y/N) smiled towards the people settling into their seats, her eyes scanning the room for Sirius, but he was nowhere in sight. The Weasley Twins crowded their mother, making jokes about carrying the pots to the table as she refused their help. Tonks moved towards Molly, taking the tray off her hands, and giving her a sympathetic smile as they set the table.

Taking advantage of the commotion, (Y/N) slipped out of the room to find Sirius. After having spent four months with him in Grimmauld Place, she had a strong inkling as to where Sirius could be.

“Sirius?” She called, peeking her head curiously into the drawing room where, as she expected, Sirius stood. He was staring towards a burn mark on the wall, his fingers tracing over the charred remains before acknowledging her.

“It’s astonishing how much you worry,” chuckled Sirius, looking over his shoulder to shoot a wink at her. (Y/N) scoffed, but smiled as she sauntered into the room, “It’s Christmas, you know. The day you’ve been dreaming about these past few weeks,” she spoke in a sing-song voice, slowly approaching Sirius with each word.

Sirius turned fully, spreading his arms out as he did so, “How do you know what I’ve been dreaming about?” He asked, a devilish grin appearing on his face.

“Hm, I believe I recall telling you I’m an excellent legilimens,” She said in mock ponderment, but giving herself into his embrace, “We’re waiting on you, you know?” She added, inhaling deeply to take in that sweet smell of smoky sugar she had grown so fond of.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting then,” Sirius whispered, twirling the ends of her hair between his fingers. Merlin, but he could stay here forever just with her in his arms, a sweet smell of cinnamon filling his lungs as they embraced.

“Yes, you’re right,” She agreed, stepping out of his grip, and heading towards the doorway. Sirius slinked after her, his eyes flickering up towards the door frame, “Wait a minute,” he blurted out without thinking, making (Y/N) halt right underneath it. With a sheepish smile, he walked up towards her and reached down to grab her hand, pressing a kiss against the back of it and meeting her starry-eyed expression. His other hand was gripping his wand, discreetly flicking up towards the ceiling to re-enchant the drawing room ceiling.

“The stars are wonderful, aren’t they?” Sirius muttered, running his fingers against her palm until their hands were firmly pressed together. (Y/N)’s eyes instinctively shifted upwards, catching sight of the twinkling stars rotating throughout the ceiling.

Her eyes, however, caught sight of something else, something much smaller hanging from the ceiling. No- hanging from the doorway was a small plant with a cluster of white berries all around it. Her mouth fell open as she stared up at the plant, “Mistletoe…” she breathed out, meeting Sirius’s gaze with a dark blush painting her cheeks, “Was that your doing too?” She asked teasingly, nudging his shoulder with a small smile.

Sirius let out a noise of feigned pain, clicking his tongue as he smiled down at her, “That hurts, Doll. You know I have more honor than that,” He mused, pulling her into another embrace, “But,” he cleared his throat, hoping he did not misread their situation, “If you don’t want to, we can just pretend it never-“

“Are you mad?” (Y/N) cut him off, placing her hands on either side of Sirius’s face, “Stop talking, Sirius and just do it,” she urged, leaning her face closer to his, but refusing to close the gap between them.

Sirius didn’t mind, he preferred to make the first move either way, “As you wish,” he replied and rested his hand against her cheek, pulling her in for a gentle kiss. Her heart beat growing faster and faster as Sirius’s handsome face came up to her own. Their lips brushed together for a moment before completely dipping down and capturing her lips in a sweet kiss.

Their fingers locking together as her body pressed closer to his. Sirius placed his hand against her waist, keeping her close while their lips melted together and he could only focus on how soft her lips felt against her mouth, how addictively she invaded all his senses. (Y/N) could have sworn time had stopped when his lips met hers and she was only brought back to reality when he pulled away, his finger trailing delicately over the apple of her pink cheek.

“I think we’ve kept them waiting long enough now,” Sirius announced, flicking his wand towards the ceiling to make the stars disappear, his hand still gripping hers gently, “Don’t you agree?”

“Yes, you’re quite right,” She replied with a subtle nod of her head, “I suppose we should go”

Sirius smiled, leaned down, and pressed a kiss against her forehead. Retrieving his hand from hers and gesturing towards the stairs, which she descended first. The two of them slipped into the fully decorated kitchen, both smiling at the group of people seated at the long table as they settled into empty seats.

“What took you so long?” asked Tonks, gently shoving (Y/N)’s shoulder when she sat down.

But (Y/N) only smiled at her question, her eyes flickering towards Sirius and meeting his mischievous gaze as he lifted his wine glass towards her and brought it to his lips. The smile on her face only grew and she quickly shot him a wink before looking back towards Tonks.

“Oh, nothing,” She lied, happily poking at her dinner with her fork, “Just making sure Buckbeak was comfortable”

Tonks squinted towards her, but decided her answer was good enough… for now. (Y/N), however, had no intention of revealing what happened upstairs and spent the rest of the evening with the lingering feeling of Sirius’s lips ghosting over hers.

As they all bid their goodnights, (Y/N) climbed up into her room and caught sight of Sirius closing his door. But before he did, he raised his hand up to his lips and blew a kiss in her direction, his signature smirk appearing at his lips. (Y/N) pretended to catch the floating kiss, playfully bringing it to her cheek and laughing when Sirius did.

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Sirius.”

And with that, the two of them closed their bedroom doors. Simultaneously, albeit unknowingly, flopping onto their mattresses with grins of satisfaction plastered over their faces. It didn’t take long for them to fall asleep, but the two of them had the same thought as they went…

“What would it be like to fall asleep in each other’s arms?”

#wow this was literally 14 pages #I need to shorten my stories bro lol #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #hogwarts mystery #hogwarts fanfic #hogwarts imagine #Harry Potter #harry potter and the order of the pheonix #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #sirius black x slytherin reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius x y/n #sirius black x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #imagine

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tazzytypes · 4 years

Text

Apocalypse:Sanctuary - Chapter 13

Finally! The next chapter is here! Thank you all so, so, so much for being patient. I'm working up to five hours a day, five days a week on top of college so balancing that has been a wild ride. Now— to the story!!

Read also on AO3 or see more chapters on the Masterpost!

Chapter Text

Cordelia looked down the dining room table at her girls. She loved all her students equally, but the original three held a special place in her heart. The feeling was much like a mother would feel towards her firstborn child.

Opulence covered the table, rich food on plates or in bowls that glittered from the light of the chandelier above them. Fresh flowers that never wilted were placed equally apart, tall enough to be seen and admired but not so tall as to block one's vision of the person across from them. Not a stain marked the white table. One of the perks of being magic was the ability to don white without damaging the fabric in the first few moments of wearing it.

Joining them were their two new arrivals. Coco had slowly but surely relaxed, accepting her new reality. Emily on the other hand… was resisting. Situated between Coco and Mallory, she looked between those talking, but never joined in the conversation herself.

“Coco!” Mallory exclaimed, leaning forward to see past Emily. Something was held in her hand which she tossed at the young socialite. “Try this one!”

Emily looked between the pair, leaning back as a small cake was tossed in front of her. Mallory laughed at the face the brunette made, placing a gentle hand on her arm as she apologized. The other girl’s smile of reassurance was strained.

Their attention turned to Coco, a small gurgling sound leaving her as her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Most of the girls paid no mind, engulfed in their own conversations and far too used to magic to be pulled from them.

Cordelia watched the exchange with a smile, chuckling to herself as Coco waved her hand over the pastry. Emily looked upon the scene with the same wide eyes the woman had seen in the greenhouse.

Suddenly the gurgling stopped and with a blink of her eyes, the blonde seemed perfectly normal. “Yep. This has gluten.”

“That was really cool, Coco!” Mallory said, her constant smile growing a little wider as she beamed at her new friend.

“If you consider looking like you’re having a seizure is cool,” Coco said, chuckling awkwardly as she looked to Emily, “Trust me, I know how I look.”

“…it isn’t that bad,” the girl tried to offer, more out of polite behavior than actual truth.

Coco only laughed, “You’re a horrible liar.”

As the chatter roared like waves crashing onto a sandy shore, Cordelia leaned towards her red-haired mentor. She was sure to keep her voice low, just in case the revelry was not enough to mask her words.

“Do you recall any witch-hunting in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century?”

Myrtle sipped on her cocktail, a look of surprise quickly vanishing as thin brows furrowed. “There are still witch hunters, my dear. They’re a cockroach you cannot kill. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Are there any that stand out? That were different in some way?”

“I don’t know,” the woman sighed, humming as she thought. She waved the stick of olives in her drink as she thought, biting one off when she finally came to an answer. “There was a case of a particularly powerful witch — showing enormous talent with the gift of pyromancy. A boarding school under the care of the emerging Delphi organization brought her to a creek in the middle of the woods.”

Myrle scoffed in disdain, “using the poor dear as an initiation ritual! Simply barbaric.”

“What happened to her?”

“She burned those who sought to burn her! Pushed the fire to consume them before collapsing in on itself. Wasn’t powerful enough to free herself, little as she was. Hung there for days before being saved. Then she made her way to our academy and the rest is history!”

Taking another sip from her drink, she turned to Cordelia with a raised brow. “Why do you ask, Delia?”

The Supreme’s eyes glanced over the table before she dared utter a word.

“I felt her magic,” Cordelia explained after a long moment of pause as she considered her words, “her magic is… restrained… like a tiger in a cage.”

Myrle let out a short laugh, “aren’t we all.”

“She knew that story, Myrtle,” Cordelia pressed, “she dreamed it as if she were the woman herself.”

“Seers are rare, even for our time. Two in one era would be quite the feat. A Hollywood hoax would be more reasonable than—”

“No, I tested her, Myrtle,” Cordelia said, eyes focusing on their new sister. Emily was more relaxed now, grinning and laughing as Coco told a wild tale. “She’s the real deal.”

***

First days were always stressful. Emily was beyond tired, hardly able to get some sleep the night before. In new places, it was normal to not sleep well. The body would put itself on alert just enough to react to any new threats. Emily could deal with that. It was the nightmares she could do without.

Dolls had been the bane of her childhood, creepy little creatures that didn’t blink. The brunette used to have nightmares of them as a child, but this was the first time she had one as an adult.

It was a strange dream. Quite short, as well. She was in an attic filled with dolls, tea sets, and small dresses. There was a shelf filled with the porcelain creatures. Walking towards it, she had filled with dread. Then, one of them screamed.

It was enough to make her skin crawl.

Tugging at her skirt, Emily looked around the table. There wasn’t a familiar face among the girls, no one that she had dined with the night before. The dining room was free of food, but the white roses from the night before still stood proudly in their vases.

She felt underdressed — donning a self-made crop top with a touristy “Chicago” across the front she had gotten at Ross for five dollars and a high waisted black skirt that she had found in the depths of her boxes. Where she was from, most kids rolled out of bed in their PJs and went to class.

The girls chattered amongst themselves, clad in Chanel, Ralph Lauren, and Tommy Hilfiger. She couldn’t tell one from the other, even with brand symbols proudly flaunted. Emily was just glad she liked black. The color hid the sweat from the Louisiana humidity.

God, what was she doing here?

No one bothered to speak to her, too busy talking to one another. So, she fidgeted with her bracelet and waited for the class to start, listening in on the conversations around her.

“I practiced in my room for ages and still couldn’t do it!”

“I don’t think it’s actually possible to change the color of a rose… at least, not completely. Living things are far too stubborn.”

“You’ve always preferred working with the dead.”

“It’s where my talent lies.”

“If Mallory can do it—”

“Mallory is a show-off. She was practically gloating when Miss Cordelia showed up.”

They were interrupted by someone entering the room. Emily had been so intently listening, eyes focused on the table before her, that she didn’t even note it till everyone went silent. When she looked up, Zoe was standing opposite to them with a calming smile on her lips.

“Alright girls,” she said, once again talking with her hands, “who would like to explain what we’ve been practicing?”

A girl to Emily’s left answered eagerly, “Changing the color of a rose!”

“Teacher’s pet,” the girl next to her whispered.

“Shut up!” the girl hissed.

Zoe was unaware of their banter, choosing instead to walk down the table until she settled before one of the vases. “It might seem easy to alter the color of a flower, but the rose is unique. It resists change.

“One thing’s certain. Nothing is immutable when the will of a strong woman is applied.”

She looked to her students and gestured to them. Emily turned to watch their reaction, hands reaching out to grab a rose from the vases before them. Timidly, she mirrored their actions — watching how they held it, how they looked at it, how their expressions changed.

Their teacher herself plucked one from the arrangement, holding it out in front of her like a mirror. Zoe’s fingers tightened around the stem as she felt her magic rush through her. With furrowed brows, she focused on what she wanted. Slowly, red oozed onto the petals, a crimson stain that consumed them.

“Now…” Zoe said, looking to Emily with a grin, “show me how strong you are.”

Emily didn’t do anything for a long moment, choosing instead to observe. It was strange to see people look at an object with such intensity, their jaw flexed and eyes nearly bugging out of their sockets.

Some students were able to conjure a color at the base of the petals, their eyes flickering with hope before the color faded. Others were only able to change a single petal or even the stem of the plant. One girl managed to wilt their flower into a blackened husk.

“Not again!” The girl cried, earning a little bit of laughter from her peers. “Why does this always happen?”

“You’re focusing too much on the part of you that can conjure fire,” Zoe noted, coming around the table with her rose and leaning over the girl. “Instead you focus on the…”

Emily turned back to her rose, staring down at it before lifting it up. She kept her hold on it loose as if she were a model for an 18th-century portrait.

She recalled her lessons in middle school, the water cycle and how it interacts with plant life. They had studied the way flowers take up water from their roots — how they consumed nutrients with no mouth.

There was a video she had found where someone put blue food dye into the water. After a few days, its color of the petals came to match it.

The brunette pictured that, a puddle of blue at the stem that slowly crawled upwards towards the rose. Energy crackled through the air, felt by everyone but herself.

“I got it!” The girl with the charred flower exclaimed, the flower blooming into a bright yellow color. Zoe smiled at her.

“See, you just had to—”

Another girl leaped up in her seat, “I got it, too!”

Loud conversation roared as success filled the room.

“Wow, the color is staying, too!”

“The planets must be in alignment or something.”

“I got it!”

Zoe looked upon her students with content. It was a wonderful feeling, seeing these girls succeed. She understood why Cordelia stayed with the school even when it was almost empty. There was no feeling that completed her quite as much as teaching.

Her eyes came to settle on her newest charge. Emily stared intently at a rose on the table, her hands on either side. Zoe moved to reassure her when she noticed her pallor, pink drained from her skin.

“Emily…” She said, going to rest a hand on the back of the girl’s chair. It screeched as it was flown back, a flurry of black rushing by Zoe and nearly toppling it over before they disappeared down the hall.

“Looks like someone’s first day jitters got the best of them,” one girl noted, earning a few chuckles, “Her magical gift must be indigestion.”

“Oh, like you didn’t throw up the first time you sucked the life out of a fly.”

“Shut up!!”

Zoe paid no mind to their words, already chasing after the girl. Emily pushed past a few students, almost running into a confused Cordelia who stood in the center of the hall.

Pursing her lips, Zoe hung on the frame of the dining room’s doorway. Cordelia caught her eye and looked to her with a raised brow.

“Zoe! I can’t do it anymore!”

“…Keep practicing.” Zoe said, “I’ll be right back.”

The woman spared a glance at her students before her gaze returned to the hall. Pushing herself away from the room, she started to make her way to her Supreme.

“What’s going on?” the blonde woman asked.

Zoe shook her head, “I don’t know, but I have a hunch.”

The sound of retching filled the hall, the two women glancing at one other before hurrying towards the nearest powder room. Once again, the sound came and Zoe spared a worry glance to Cordelia before gently knocking on the door.

“Emily? Emily, we’re coming in.”

Inside the room, their new student was hunched over the toilet. Panting, her back arched as she was sick once more. Vomit burned her throat and stung her nose. She hadn’t been publicly ill since she was a child. It wasn’t a situation she was particularly happy about reliving.

Cordelia knelt down at her side. Her hands went to the girl’s back, gently soothing her before moving back her hair with her other hand. Her words were hushed and comforting. “It’s alright. It’s alright.”

“Sorry,” Emily apologized once she was able to catch her breath. She rested her head on the back her hands, for once glad they were permanently frigid.

Cordelia smiled at her, pulling her hair back into a ponytail before resting her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “We all get a nervous stomach sometimes.”

“I have anxiety… this wasn’t that. It—”

Another wave of nausea rolled over her and her throat burned. Cordelia felt energy crackle in the air, but it felt weaker than before. She looked up to Zoe who simply nodded, indicating she felt the same thing.

Once the retching passed, the girl finally turned to face the woman beside her. Zoe’s hands flew to her mouth as she gasped, running into the hall.

“Queenie!”

Emily’s brow furrowed as she looked to her headmistress. Cordelia’s lips pressed into a thin line as she reached over to grab a piece of toilet paper. The brunette stiffened as she reached out to wipe something from her mouth, hand immediately going up to stop her.

Taking the toilet paper in her own hands, Emily swiped at her face. Crimson filled her hands when she pulled it back. Her eyes darted to Cordelia, wide and full of fear. The woman’s gentle touch to smooth down her hair wasn’t as comforting as the blonde thought it was.

“Oh, shit!” a voice exclaimed from the door, Queenie standing with Zoe in the doorway. ” What’s going on here?”

Cordelia’s touch on Emily’s arm was as light as a feather, gently easing her up to her feet. Brows furrowed, she watched as the girl wobbled. Her brown eyes flickered between Emily and Queenie.

“Please take Emily up to her room,” Cordelia said, “Zoe and I will go to the greenhouse and make a remedy.”

Queenie simply nodded, coming forward and allowing the girl to lean on her. One of her hands wound around Emily’s waist to keep her steady. “I got you, girl.”

Emily closed her eyes as the world spun, only able to offer Queenie a thankful nod. Slowly, but surely, they began to walk down the hall. Cordelia watched them go, step by step. She wracked her brain for a remedy.

“There’s something different about her,” Zoe finally spoke once the student in question was out of earshot. “I—”

“Can feel her power?” Cordelia said, sparing her a glance. “So can I.”

“I think she was giving power to the other girls… not willingly. More like a generator.”

Cordelia’s gaze spoke volumes, skepticism written in her eyes.

“I’ve been teaching those girls since day one,” Zoe explained, “I know what they’re capable of. Girls who couldn’t even conjure a color last lesson had suddenly created a perfect spell.”

Her Supreme shook her head, lips pressed into a thin line.

“It doesn’t make sense. “Zoe said, “How could she be putting out magic without—”

“You said many of the girls who struggled with the spell found success.”

“Yes, but—”

“Perhaps they were able to tap into her magic because she was letting them— opening a door.”

“There’s no spell—”

They were interrupted by a shout from the second floor. Queenie’s voice shaking in their bones. “Cordelia!”

***

Emily stumbled a bit, the hand on her arm tightening around her wrist.

“Hang on there,” Queenie said, “You look like a rake, but I don’t think I’ll be able to carry you the rest of the way.”

“Sorry,” She sighed, the pair stopping for a moment until the dizziness went away.

“That’s like the fifth time you’ve apologized,” Queenie said, “I’m walking you back to your room, not bringing you back to life.”

“I hate being a burden.”

“I’ve spent the last few years in a hotel from hell playing cards with a gambling ghost. You’re a breath of fresh air.”

Emily let out a small, breathy laugh. A smile curled to her lips and Queenie couldn’t help but smile as well, shaking her head and chuckling.

Then, the girl in her arms dropped like a sack of potatoes.

“Oh, shit!” Queenie cursed, tightening her grip as she tried to ease the girl to the floor. “Cordelia!”

Queenie heard the Supreme bound up the stairs before she saw her. Cordelia was soon sprinting down the hall, her former student filling her in as she approached.

“She just dropped like a rag doll!”

Dropping to the girl’s side, Cordelia’s hand went to Emily’s throat. Her pulse was still strong, but magic was thick in the air. The spark she had felt before morphing into a raging inferno.

“Let’s get her to her room.”

“How? We can’t carry her.”

On cue, Zoe appeared with Kyle. Zoe’s eyes were frantic, darting between the other women and her boyfriend. Her hand clutched onto his arm, tugging him along.

As soon as she was settled in her sheets, the three witches began throwing up protection rituals. Whatever caused this damage was magical in nature. Their spells would stabilize Emily until they found out exactly what they were working with.

“What exactly can we do?” Queenie asked once the last incantation was uttered, “She has magic, but—”

“Remember the Seven Wonders?” Zoe asked, looking to Cordelia, “how you… got the sight back. Maybe something is keeping her from her own power.”

“Ok, but what?” Queenie said, “We can’t exactly go around mutilating—”

A whisper came from the bed. They all froze.

“…Spalding.”

Hairs stood up on the back of Cordelia’s neck, dread rippling through her body. Her hands moved on instinct, throwing up more protective wards.

“You stay away from my girls!” She growled; dread replaced by roaring rage.

“She… found… me,” Emily spoke in her sleep, words slurred ever slightly.

Zoe grabbed the hands of Queenie and Cordelia, pushing them into a circle over the girl. Queenie’s hand reached out for Cordelia’s. Their knuckles went white as they gripped onto each other for dear life. The muttered sounds of a banishing chant filling the room.

Their voices grew louder and louder with each repetition until they were shouting as loud as they could.

Spalding was resisting, his tie to the school making his power stronger. Zoe wondered if it were better to bring him back like they had the Axe Man. Kill him twice and kill him good.

A sigh trickled past Emily’s lips. Her peace was momentary, fear settling in as she lurched up with a gasp. Cordelia let out a relieved laugh, sitting on the bed and pulling her into a hug. Emily did not return the gesture, pulling away from the headmistress’s grasp.

“See you met the resident creep,” Queenie noted, crossing her arms over her chest as she glanced to Zoe and Cordelia. “Imma’ feel real exposed taking a shower tonight.”

Cordelia pulled away from Emily, placing a hand on her cheek. Her thumb brushed over her skin as if convincing herself the girl was still alive.

“Where were you?” she asked.

“… A room filled with dolls,” Emily said, the memory quickly fading. Her lips curled into a frown and her brows furrowed. “I hate dolls.”

The Supreme could only laugh, pulling away and looking up towards the other two witches.

“She needs rest, but I don’t think she should be alone.”

“I can stay with her,” Zoe offered, “Queenie, you mind teaching my class.”

“I’m not dealing with spoiled rich girls,” Queenie said, “I already have to deal with Madison.”

Zoe gave the girl a look.

“…Fine, but you owe me.”

***

After the incident, weeks passed with a semblance of normality. It was easy for Emily to fall into rhythm with her scheduled classes. At the moment, hers were more focused on the academic side of witchcraft than actual practice.

Latin, rituals, wards, and anything else than could be found in the worn pages of the ancient copies were her daily routine. More often than not, she taught herself in the corners of the academy. Emily had a habit of worming herself into the tiniest corners no one noticed. Allowing her to be immersed in the ancient texts.

Zoe had taken to sleeping in her room as a precaution. Emily could not recall the incident with Spalding, a dream that left her as soon as she awoke. They were quick to fill her in on the creep.

Wards were placed in her room, but she still felt unsettled at the thought of a dead man creeping around in her head. Especially a man so obsessed with dolls.

Either way, it was enough to convince her that she indeed was a witch, strange and unpredictable as her talent may be.

Still, she spent most of her hours away from other students. Mallory, Coco, and herself would speak during meals. Outside of that, she only interacted with those of the “inner sanctum” — the original trio of witches.

Emily sat in the greenhouse; books spread carefully around her as she wrote in her grimoire. She had always been content in her own company. Books, to her, were good if not better conversation partners than human beings.

“I thought you were going to join the other girls on a walk.”

When she wasn’t reading, she was tending to the plants — germinating seeds and tending to their individual needs. Cordelia had taught her how to assess PH. Since then, the brunette had been diligent in her role. The greenhouse had never been more alive.

Emily looked up from her books to the doorway, the light from outside surrounding Cordelia like a halo.

She sighed, making an excuse up on the fly. Her hands tugging at her short locks of hair.

“My leg hurts,” she said, looking back to her books, “and I didn’t want to risk getting my hair burned off again.”

Cordelia smiled and chuckled. The youngest fire-starters were always the ones that did the most damage. A curse of tantrums.

Most of her girls were older, but uncontrolled magic made desperate parents search for guidance. Robichaux giving them a sense of hope despite the pain of separation.

The Supreme wandered to the other side of the table. Trying to read upside down, she found that the girl was translating spells from Latin.

“You’re only going to get as much as you put in.” She reminded.

“What more can I do? I’ve read every book I could and memorized all the words and gone to lessons and nothing happens.”

“Just because you cannot change the color of a rose or raise them from the brink of death doesn’t mean you’re not as witch as the rest of us.”

Emily scoffed, focus returning to her books. “I talked to a creepy old man in my sleep and didn’t remember any of it. I’m a fucking… generator of magic, but not a practitioner.”

Cordelia sighed and took a seat across from her, gently closing the books so that the young woman would have to look at her.

“You are a catalyst,” the blonde said, reaching to put her hand over Emily’s, “that is a power in and of itself.”

By now, the Supreme was used to Emily enough to not take offense when her hands slipped away from her touch. She watched as the brunette clenched her fists before settling them in her lap. Her hazel eyes tore away from Cordelia’s gaze and settled on a random plant somewhere behind the woman.

“In my dreams, I have so much power,” she explained. Her gaze wandered down to her hands, broken and useless things. “I can conjure flames, summon weapons to my hands, raise flowers to life, fly, and I…”

She sighed, clenching her hands into fists once more. “… I wake up and I am powerless.”

Cordelia’s head cocked as she listened to her. Emily didn’t often speak of her dreams, a secret she wished to keep close to her chest. It made Cordelia wonder about the source of her power… the specific talent which sang louder than the rest. She’d have to speak to Myrtle, but for now—

“I didn’t come to lecture or admonish,” The Supreme reassured, “Every path taken in this school is unique and I know you are strong enough to make your own way through the thorns.”

“Then why are you here?”

Hearing her words, Emily grimaced. “…sorry, that sounded—”

Her headmistress could only smile and shake her head, “You’re honest and to the point. There’s no crime in that.”

Silence consumed them, Emily waiting for the woman to state her business.

“I have a… proposition for you,” Cordelia said.

“Which is?”

“How do you feel about California?”

***

Michael looked this way and that as he stepped out of the maze which was the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men. Being recognized as alpha gave him a great deal more freedom than he had before, his professors more lenient towards his breaking of certain rules. The nature of his origins, however, was a secret he needed to keep close to his chest.

A smile pulled at his lips as he reached the cusp of the nearby hill. Mead was beaming at him, hands raised in the air as she jumped to get his attention. “Oh, my dear boy!”

Like a child, he rushed towards her, hands outstretched to hug her. No, he wouldn’t risk the warlocks knowing of the only woman who had ever mattered to him.

“Look at you!” Mead exclaimed, holding him at arm's length with a frown, “You’re skin and bones— you’re wasting away. Don’t these people feed you?”

Michael’s grip tightened around her arms, his voice anxious and insistent. “I’m fine. Just tell me you took care of the problem.”

“The problem is now a stack of overcooked country barbecue. They can bury him in a shoebox… if they can find him.”

Relief rolled off Michael in waves, shoulders finally losing a bit of tension which had plagued him for weeks. He was so close… so close to fulfilling his destiny.

“Good,” he sighed, nodding his head, “And what about—”

Mead smiled, “Already at the witch school. Are you sure your father—”

“The vision was clear,” Michael assured, straightening his robe. “These people are the only ones who can pose a threat to me. Once I become supreme, I can destroy them from within…”

He placed his hands on Mead’s shoulders, smiling. “… eliminate their whole fucking coven. Then the road will be clear for me to do what I was born to do.”

“So, stop worrying,” Mead said. The poor boy had dark circles under his eyes and was so tense he was practically buzzing. “Look how easy it was for you to win their trust, to get into their school. They may be wizards, but they’re not exactly wizzes. Everything is going beautifully.”

Michael sighed, pulling his eyes away from her and instead choosing to stare at the dirt at his feet. “I still have to pass the Seven Wonders.”

“You will own the Seven Wonders… and then all their covens and then the world.”

A smile flickered to Michael’s lips. He pulled the woman into a hug, allowing himself to relish this moment of peace.

“What would I do without you?”

“Well, that’s something you’re never gonna’ have to worry about.”

#michael langdon #michael langdon x oc #michael langdon x reader

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holidaywishes · 5 years

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Sweaty Betty’s

Summary: After your convocation, you head to a bar with a group of friends to celebrate finally being done with school.

Author’s Note: Not really much to say, other than I’m procrastinating doing my homework and my other series. I’ve learned my lesson from Hard Not To Notice and I split this one into two parts. BUT IT WILL ONLY BE THE TWO PARTS. I’ll eventually get back to writing my It Had To Be You series because that thing needs… something. But for now, here we are, with this Freddie Andersen imagine. So, I hope you enjoy this short little writing -- I have another angsty one in mind that I might write but we’ll see.

Warnings: fluff, drinking, some swearing, drunk fighting, smut in second part so there’s some hard fluff at the end to lead into it

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“Congratulations to the Class of 2019!” Lindsay, the class valedictorian, exclaimed, “Go out and live the best lives you can because it’s our turn now!” Everyone threw their caps into the air without caution and you quickly left your seat to find your friends, whose names were, haplessly, alphabetically opposite yours; embracing them in a tight group hug when you finally found them.

“WE GRADUATED!” Your best friend, Charlie, shouted into the group hug

“Can you believe it?!” you said, disbelief coating your words

“Not one bit,” another one of the girls, Blaire, added, making the rest of the group laugh, “but we did it guys. We’re done! No more assignments. No more midterms. No more finals, no more group projects!” Everyone laughed before eventually breaking up the hug, trying to decide what the plan was for the rest of the day

“I have lunch with my family,” you said pointing to your Mom and brother as they waited for the crowd to disperse around them, “my grandparents are coming into town. Aunts, Uncles, the whole shebang. You have no idea how stressed my Mom is; my Dad keeps bringing her chocolate every five minutes to calm her down…” You laughed and the group shared their plans for the rest of the day. It was a lot of family meals, celebratory drinks and photography sessions -- to which you rolled your eyes and gave a sarcastic remark.

“You know how my parents are,” your childhood friend, Darcy, defended, “they want pictures of everything and they hated those stupid Grad portraits. They figured they’d do it themselves…”

“I know I know, I was just kidding around” you replied before Lindsay came up to the four of you

“There she is! Miss Valedictorian herself!” Blaire shouted, “it was a great speech, honestly”

“Thank you Blaire” Lindsay replied

“We’re so proud of you Linds,” you cooed, bringing her in for a hug, “so what about you? What are your plans for the rest of Convocation Day?”

“We’re going camping…” she said, clearly not wanting to spend her weekend in a tent, “apparently my folks had it planned for months because we’re going to a place that we used to go to when I was a kid. My Dad is stressing out over me leaving to go work in Austin in January that he wants to spend as much time together as a family as we can…”

“It could be fun…” Darcy tried

“Trust me,” Lindsay leaned in, “I’d much rather be getting drunk with you guys tonight to celebrate, instead of being eaten alive by all the bugs…”

“You’ll be fine,” Charlie said, “just keep the bug spray close by.” Lindsay shoved Charlie lightly before saying goodbye to the group reluctantly; your brother coming up behind you and poking you in your sides, forcing you to quickly turn around and smack him

“JESUS BRADY!” you screamed, “how many times do I have to tell you not to do that?!” He laughed, trying to dodge your strikes, before cozying up to Blaire

“So, Blaire, I know the perfect way to celebrate your graduation…” he tried to say the words seductively, “want me to show you?”

“Ew, Brady…” you whined

“I think you need someone to show you how to celebrate…” Blaire said, leaning into Brady, clearly trying to unsteady him, “I’ve got a pretty great arsenal of tricks that I could teach you…”

“Oh yeah?” Brady’s voice cracked, causing Blaire to finally break

“Sorry kid, you’re just a little too young for me,” she put a hand on his shoulder to let him down easy, “you guys have a great lunch, I gotta go. I can see my Dad waving me over. (Y/N), ladies, I’ll see you tonight?”

“Text me,” you said as you gave her a hug goodbye, “we’ll figure out a plan for tonight.” The group gave a collective round of ‘I love you’s’ as Blaire turned and walked toward her family.

“We gotta go too, (Y/N),” Brady nudged you, clearing his throat, “Mom has gone through four boxes of chocolate so far and I can only assume Dad is picking her up some more right now…”

“Okay,” you sighed, “he’s right. I’ll see you guys later, congrats guys!” Another round of hugs were given before you let the group go and you wandered over to your Mom

“My little graduate!” your Mom cooed, pressing a kiss to your cheek and you tried to pull away, whining at her affection. When your Dad finally showed up, the four of you left for the restaurant and waited for the rest of your family to get there. It was a pretty mellow lunch considering how many people were there but it wore you out nonetheless. Your Dad dropped you off at your apartment so you could take a quick nap before the inevitable chaos that would happen later.

“Hey, sweets?” your Dad said before you left the car

“Yeah Dad?”

“I’m so proud of you,” he said and you gave him a small smile. He was easily your favourite person in the whole world but he didn’t get emotional very often, so hearing him say that he was proud of you was incredibly special, “I know I don’t say it very often but I am so incredibly proud of you and everything you’ve accomplished. And everything I know you’re going to accomplish”

“Thank you Daddy,” you smiled, trying to hold back your tears, bringing him in for a big hug, “I love you so much. I don’t know how much of this I could’ve done without you; all of the times I was stressed out and thought I was better off dropping out than finishing my degree. You talked me off so many ledges, Dad.”

“It’s all you, baby girl,” he smiled as he pulled back to look at you, “a few words from me here and there to help you through sure, but you’re the one with the brains. You’re the one who was determined to succeed.” A stream of tears finally left your eyes and you noticed a few fall from your Dad’s as well

“Alright alright, no more crying!” you said, wiping your tears away, “I have to get some sleep, I’m exhausted…”

“I love you, (Y/N)”

“I love you too, Daddy.” You exited his car and wandered toward your apartment building, glancing back at him and waving him goodbye before he drove away. As soon as you got into your apartment, your WIFI connected and you were flooded with texts from Charlie trying to figure out plans for tonight.

“Have you ever heard of Sweaty Betty’s?”

“I heard it’s supposed to be a good place”

“Apparently, they have a big selection of whiskey and you like whiskey”

“Hello?!”

“There’s always like Dance Cave”

“Or I guess Stirling Room…”

“But this Sweaty Betty’s is probably a great place to start and then we can head to Little Italy -- Come See Me?”

“(Y/N)!! Answer me!”

“If you don’t answer me soon, I’m making the decision for us…”

“We’ve never been to the Speakeasy either. Wanna do that instead?”

“Literally we just need a place to get drunk…”

“(Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N)!”

“Holy Shit Char,” you finally texted back, “I just got back into my apartment. My data was off and there was no WIFI at the restaurant. You know I’m fine with whatever you pick. I do think though that the speakeasy should be saved for a night when we have like costumes or whatever lol”

“So… Sweaty Betty’s and then Come See Me?”

“I’m good with that? Have you texted everyone else?”

“Blaire said she’ll share an Uber with Darcy so they’ll meet us there probably. But…”

“But what? Who did you invite?”

“Don’t get mad, they wanted to come and they graduated too. Nick and Sam are gonna meet us there..”

“Ughhh! Charlie! Look whatever. Fine. As long as they don’t try to flirt with me or dance with me at any point during the night, I don’t care. They just creep me out. I can’t believe you invited them…”

“Honestly, they overheard me planning it and they kind of invited themselves..”

“Of course they did”

“It’ll be fine! Don’t worry”

“Whatever, okay. I’m gonna have a nap. Am I meeting for pre-drinks or are you coming here?”

“Hmmm, you’re closer to the bar. So I’ll come over to yours and we’ll call an Uber from there!”

“Alright. See you in a couple hours. Love you!”

“Love you babe!”

It must not have been typical bar Tequila that you’d been drinking because four shots in and you were barely able to see straight. At some point, you remember the shots hitting you inexplicably and you told Nick and Sam you didn’t want them around.

“This is supposed to be a celebration but you two are just making it weird,” you slurred, “face it, no one’s fucking you tonight. So why don’t you just go home...”

“There’s no need to be a bitch, (Y/N)...” Nick said, anger in his voice, masked only by embarrassment and you tried to fix it

“I.. I’m sorry.. I don’t kn-- I think I’m gonna be sick…” You held your hand over your mouth as you tried to maneuver through the crowd, noticing Sam storm off and Nick follow close behind him; all of a sudden you were filled with an overwhelming sense of guilt -- which was soon overpowered by the Tequila you were currently puking up. You had never been this bad before; not since your 18th birthday when your cousin, Mary, decided that she would show you the proper way to get drunk, not realizing her limits were vastly different from yours. A few glasses of water should make you feel better, so you cleaned yourself up in the mirror and gathered yourself enough to head back to Charlie and the girls.

“There she is” Blaire teased

“Can I get a glass of water please?” you asked the bartender, returning a quick Thank you when he placed the glass in front of you. It was gone almost instantly so, you asked for another before your friends got annoyed

“You can’t just stop drinking!” Darcy complained, “none of us drove. Which means none of us are the designated driver. None of us have to be group Mom tonight. The whole point is that we’re celebrating our graduation… We’re here to get drunk; fucked up!”

“Yes, Darce, I know,” you laughed, “but I just threw up, which means I need to add in some water.” You finished your second glass of water and then continued on with the night; laughing with your group of girlfriends, flirting with some strangers they brought into your circle and slowly added more cocktails into your repertoire.

“So ladies, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” one of the guys asked, leaning in close to Blaire who was not having it

“Girls night” she mocked

“We just graduated so we’ve got a lot planned” Charlie added

“Oh congrats on graduating!” another one of them said, “maybe we can help you celebrate.” You rolled your eyes at his comment and noticed Darcy mockingly put her finger down her throat before turning to the bartender to order a drink.

“Vodka tonic please” you heard her say

“I’ll grab a double Stoli cranberry” you said as you popped beside her

“These guys are so painfully obvious” she joked and you smiled

“If only Charlie weren’t so painfully hard up” you teased about your BFF

“I hope she doesn’t go home with one of them just yet, I do still want us all to celebrate together”

“We will! Don’t worry. Down the drink and we’ll get another” you mewed, giving her a wink. A few hours later and the drinks were starting to hit the girls in different ways; you couldn’t stop giggling, Blaire was looking for food, Charlie was kissing every stranger she came in contact with and Darcy was trying to convince everyone to dance with her. None of you realized how late it was until you contemplated heading to a club to dance.

“It’s too late for that, Darce…” Charlie whined, “we’d have to get an Uber and like.. find it…”

“We can go to a club tomorrow night,” you tried to compromise, “we’ll sober up and we’ll head to Come See Me first and just kinda stay there…” Darcy just frowned at you and you frowned back, feeling guilty that she hadn’t gotten to dance all night like she was promised; you dragged her out to a small clearing at the side of the bar to try and dance to the music that blared through the bustling bar. While the two of you were dancing, Charlie had invited a group of guys to surround her and Blaire, Charlie’s laugh permeating the crowd before it reached you.

“She doesn’t stop does she?” Darcy laughed

“Here, you go see what that’s about,” you nodded in your friends’ direction, “I have to pee…” You wandered to the washroom, staring at yourself in the mirror after washing your hands and tried to sober enough to talk to these strangers. You couldn’t say it was something you cared too much about but, on the off chance Charlie fell for one of these guys, you’d be damned if they only saw you as the drunk, rowdy best friend for the rest of your life. When you made your way back to the bar where Blaire, Charlie and Darcy were surrounded by four toned guys, you scooted past everyone to order yourself a drink instead of introducing yourself to anyone. That’s when he leaned into you and your breath never left your throat.

“Having a good night?” a tall red-head smiled in your direction and your eyes danced across his face, trying to find someway to speak, “I’m Freddie by the way.” His hand was nearly the size of your head and it took all of your composure to lift your hand up to shake his; slow and only slightly awkward. The girls around you had all paired off with a guy, even Darcy which surprised you more than you thought it would. You were brought back to Freddie, though, when he handed you the drink you ordered.

“Oh thank you,” you said shakily, “I’m (Y/N)...”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N)” He returned, smiling down at you, making your cheeks flood with heat and you dropped your eyes to the floor so he wouldn’t see. It wasn’t long, however, until his hands found their way onto your hips and your eyes darted back to his; sure to never tear them away unless absolutely necessary.

Freddie’s P.O.V.

You wondered where she had been your whole life. This (Y/H/C) haired girl with the brightest smile you’d ever seen and eyes that sparkled like stars. She hadn’t spoke yet, so you weren’t sure what the melody of her voice would be but you imagined it would be mesmerizing. You finally introduced yourself to her, thinking she’d do the same, holding her hand while you waited but her attention seemed to go to her friends instead. You watched as her eyes scanned the group of your friends and hers when her drink came to be in front of you.

“Oh thank you” she said softly and you straightened your posture, “I’m (Y/N)”

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N).” You noticed a slight tinge of pink stain her cheeks before she dropped her eyes to the floor and you just wanted to see those beautiful eyes sparkle again; placing your hands on her hips. She looked up at you with such intent that you couldn’t bear to tear your eyes away from hers. She was the one to finally break the eye contact

“So… what do you do, Freddie?” she asked with a shy smile, tucking some hair behind her left ear

“I’m a goalie” you said, trying not to mention your team and gauge her reaction when you noticed her eyes grow a little wide

“Oh no…” she giggled, “you’re not crazy are you?” You laughed at her response before shaking your head

“I don’t think so, no”

“Okay good, ‘cause my brother plays goalie in his little local league and he’s kinda, you know,” she joked, “he’s a little crazy. I mean you have to be just a little crazy right?”

“I mean, sure, yeah, to have hockey players and pucks flying at you…”

“Right!” she laughed, her smile beaming, and you couldn’t take your eyes off her but she was started to drift away from you; her shyness creeping up to her so you leaned in to talk to her

“What about you?” you asked

“Me? I don’t play sports. No I would fall over myself and get a concussion for sure…”

“Is that so?”

“Painfully.” You laughed and finished your beer, ordering another before you asked (Y/N) what she did for a living

“I’m a student.. Well I just graduated, we all did. That’s why we’re here..” she said, before looking at her friends flirting with yours and she laughed, “I guess now I have to find a job with my degree”

“Well I’m sure that won’t be hard. What degree?”

“Early Childhood Education, with a double minor in Psychology and Music Studies. It was kind of a bitch to get through but I’ve always loved kids and music has a way of... as cheesy as it sounds... really helping people. So I thought why not combine everything and give the kids their best chance?”

“Wow.. I’m surprised,” you said and noticed her face contort, forcing you to backpedal, “no no, I just mean, you have an idea where you want to go and what you want to do”

“Sort of, not really. I just graduated today so I haven’t thought too much about it.” After a while, you realized that you hadn’t introduced (Y/N) to anyone, so you brought her over to everyone; your hand on the small of her back

“(Y/N), this is Auston, Willy and Connor, guys this is (Y/N)”

“Nice to meet you” they said together and she reciprocated the statement before her friend interrupted the conversation by pulling Willy in for a sloppy kiss

“Oh jeez” she said before bursting into a fit of laughs

“Why don’t we go find a place to sit down?” You said, leaning down to speak in her ear

“You really think we’ll be able to find something?” she asked looking around the crowded bar and you took her hand to lead her through the space. Once you found a partly empty couch, you asked if she was okay sharing the space and she nodded; you sat down next to the couple that was busy making out and she sat down next to you, unintentionally tucking herself in, “oh gosh, I didn’t realize how low this was. I’m sorry..” Her face was flustered as she tried to put some space in between the two of you but you didn’t mind; damn she was cute, and it took more of your willpower not to lick your lips as your eyes danced around her face

“It’s okay. How are you feeling?” you checked in and she looked up at you before smiling

“I’m good,” she said with a laugh on her tongue, “I’m feeling a bit of a buzz but not too much where I feel like I’ll get sloppy”

“Well that’s good,” You laughed before looking down at your lap, catching a glimpse of a tattoo on her inner knee and you grazed your thumb over it gently, “what’s this?” She seemed to be embarrassed about it and she pushed your hand away so she could cover it

“We were -- I was drunk… It was a long night and an even longer story” she blushed and you told her that you didn’t mind; you had time to listen, and she sighed heavily before agreeing to tell you, “don’t judge me okay?” you nodded, allowing her to continue, “Charlie and I had just come from her ex’s Frat House, it was a big end of semester party and he broke up with her because he claimed ‘she was only good once’ and she was rightfully pissed. So, we got drunk, flirted with some horribly misogynistic Frat bros, who we’re almost positive were trying to put something in our drinks, and then peaced when Charlie realized her ex wasn’t paying her any attention. We passed by a tattoo parlour that for some reason was still open and we begged the tattoo artist to give us a tattoo. Charlie started crying when he said we were too drunk and she turned to me and gave me that look that best friend’s give. The one that says ‘do this for me because I really need it right now’ and I was too drunk to argue, so I told the guy that we just wanted to do something dumb because we hated the guys in our life, and if he gave us a tattoo…” she scrunched up her face before continuing the story

“What?” you asked, egging her on

“God, it’s awful to even think back on”

“You gotta tell me. I said I wouldn’t judge”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “I said if he gave us a tattoo, he could put it anywhere he wanted…”

“The tattoo right?”

“Yes! That’s what it was supposed to be but, because I was so drunk, it came out all sexual and he jumped at the chance. He sat down and asked us what we wanted and where and I looked at him kinda confused at that point. I said ‘we’ll get matching tattoos I guess?’ and expected him to pick a spot and for Charlie to pick the tattoo; still not realizing that he didn’t take what I said how I meant him to take it and then Charlie passed out!”

“What happened then?”

“He yelled at me! He was all, what the fuck is this? What kind of guy do you think I am? I got super confused and said all we wanted was a tattoo and that we weren’t picky about the location. Then he seemed to get pissed and he started tattooing Charlie’s knee and told me ‘they had to match’ so I sat down on a different table while he did mine…” it was at this point that she showed you the small tattoo, “I got bitch, she got slut. I have no idea why he chose the inner knee but it’s easy enough to hide. And it’s quite the story…”

“Holy crap, so what happened when Charlie woke up and saw the tattoo?”

“She wasn’t happy about it. I mean who wants slut permanently on their skin? But when she saw mine, and I told her what happened, she was grateful that I didn’t just leave her. She said it would’ve been super easy to just abandon her or let her have an embarrassing tattoo on her own but the fact that I got just as embarrassing of a tattoo proved that we really were best friends…”

“That’s actually really sweet”

“It’s the most embarrassing moment of my life. No one else knows, not even Blaire or Darcy. They’ve never seen the tattoo’s. So, consider yourself lucky…” She laughed and you leaned in closer to kiss her but she moved away

“I didn’t mean..” you stammered

“No.. I know, I’m sorry. I just… tell me something about you,” she quipped, “I don’t know anything about you. Other than you’re a goalie…”

“Professional goalie” you clarified and she nodded with a small smile

“Right. For any team I might know?” she asked and here was the moment you were dreading. You had never tried to hide the fact that you were The Leafs goaltender before but you’d also never been faced with a situation where someone in Toronto didn’t recognize you. Being a 6’4” red-headed goalie in the NHL often meant you got recognized wherever you went. But when you realized she didn’t know you or the guys, you didn’t want her view of you to change. The night was going so well and telling her this could go one of two ways; either she hangs all over you, changing the way she’d been acting all night, or she acts like it’s no big deal. You were really hoping for the latter… “Freddie?” Her voice rang through to you and you realized you hadn’t said anything in about a minute

“Sorry,” you smiled awkwardly, “Toronto…”

“What?” she said confused

“I’m the Leafs goaltender…”

“Oh..” she said quietly, looking at her empty glass before looking back up at you, “wow.” You weren’t sure how to respond to her almost lack of response, forcing you to lean back against the couch and sigh to yourself, “I’m sorry,” she said finally, laughing a little, “that’s probably not what you were looking for. I’ve never met a professional athlete before and I don’t really know.. the protocol? Plus, I grew up a Habs fan, so my brother would kill me if he knew I was talking and drinking with a Leaf…” You let out a sigh of relief before laughing at her words

“There’s no protocol, just talk like we were already talking. No need to bring up work…”

“You wanna dance?” she asked, placing her glass on the side table as you agreed, following her to a clearing just past your intertwined group of friends. There wasn’t a lot of space to dance and, in hindsight, it might have been better to find a spot on the patio to dance. But there was a group of people dancing so it’s not like it was something you shouldn’t do and the music was high energy, making you think that they wanted people to dance and have a good time. You and (Y/N) were laughing at how equally out of sync you were with the music before she eventually wrapped her arms around your shoulders to sway with you; you spun her around a few times, causing her to laugh brightly and bump into you on her return. The only trouble came when (Y/N)’s friends came over with the guys to dance near the two of you and they got really animated, mockingly singing along to the songs and grinding on each other.

“I’m sorry about them…” (Y/N) apologized for her friends, her arms still around your shoulders and you looked down at her with a smile

“It’s okay, they’re having fun.” You were surprised when she pulled you with her as she backed away from the group to continue you dancing. She twirled once and laughed when she lost her footing, just missing bumping into someone and you pulled her into you to catch her from falling; her eyes locking onto yours as the music seemed to beg for your lips to touch.

“AHHH” she let out a breathless scream as a stranger had spilled his cold drink down her back

“Watch it bitch” he yelled at her and you tried to push past (Y/N) to challenge him but when she apologized quietly, you let it go.

“Are you okay?” you asked

“I’m fine, don’t worry. I’m just gonna go see if I can dry some of this with the hand dryer” she laughed, walking toward the bathroom; you stood near the door, waiting for her to come out.

“Fred, she’ll be fine. Come wait by the bar,” Willy called to you, “want a drink?” You hesitantly went to the bar to join the group, ordering a beer when you got there. It wasn’t long before you noticed the guy who spilled his drink on (Y/N) whispering with his friends and you couldn’t help but think that they were planning something. When Auston noticed you staring, he followed your line of sight

“Freddie…” he yelled to you, “what’s up?” you didn’t answer, instead kept your gaze locked on them when you heard the door open and noticed (Y/N) come out; stepping in front of her before another drink could be spilled on her.

“Freddie…” you heard (Y/N) whisper from behind you

“Well that’s not the wet t-shirt we wanted to see…” the group of drunk guys laughed and you noticed Freddie’s jaw clench; you grabbed his arm to stop him from starting a fight but it really didn’t do much since your touch was so light

“You think you’re funny?” he yelled, closing the gap between the two of them

“Actually, yeah, I think I’m hilarious” the guy countered

“Why don’t we see how funny it is when it happens to you.” It was meant to be threatening but it didn’t really have the effect that Freddie wanted and you could see him getting frustrated when the guys laughed him off

“What are you gonna do about it, Ed Sheeran?”

“That the best you got?”

“I hear Gingers have no souls. That true?”

“Sounds like you wanna find out.”

“Come at me bro”

“Freddie it’s not worth it, okay, they’re drunk. Just leave it…” you tried

“Now that I’m looking at her, I’m not sure I really would’ve wanted to see her tits” one of the guys laughed, another one chiming in right after

“Me either, guess we dodged a bullet…” The group of guys were met by a fit of laughter from each other and Freddie smiled sarcastically at them before looking at you to gauge your reaction. You weren’t sure what he took from the look on your face but you hoped that you were portraying a look that said ‘please don’t’

“You’re a real group of bros aren’t ya?” he said sternly and the guys seem to stick up their chins, “I bet you make all the girls swoon, you know, when you try?” You weren’t entirely sure where this was headed, and you could tell his friends didn’t either, so you kept your hand on his arm, “I bet most of you are single, huh?”

“By choice” the group grunted and Freddie laughed

“Not by your choice though, right?” he mocked, “see, when you don’t respect women, women don’t respect you… And you, my friends, need to learn some respect”

“What do you expect us to do, Grandpa? Apologize,” one of the guys laughed, “I’m sorry your chick is such a bitch and a cow but she should really make space--” His speech was cut short by Freddie punching him square in the eye and you let out a gasp and tried to stop him from going too far

“Freddie STOP!” you yelled but the guy hit back, connecting with Freddie’s face, and it took all of your strength to drag Freddie away before security kicked you all out

“BACK OFF, YOU FUCKING GIANT!” the one yelled

“Tough guy can’t take a fucking hit huh? What’s wrong, bro?” Freddie taunted. You were beginning to panic when Blaire motioned to the door, signalling she had called an Uber

“Freddie, please, let’s just go. Please…” you begged, still pulling on his arm. He looked back at you and realized what he must look like to you. He followed you out of the bar to the line of cars lined along the sidewalk and you tried to find the Uber that was waiting for Blaire.

“It’s this one love,” Blaire called out to you and Freddie, talking to the driver while the two of you made your way to the car. Blaire confirmed your address with the driver and gave you a hug goodbye as you got into the car with Freddie. It was quiet for a bit, so much so that your driver turned on the music to lessen the awkward silences; forcing you to look at Freddie with a smile. You noticed his fists were still clenched and his eye was cut.

“Here, let me take a look at you,” you said softly, shifting your body to face him, pulling his face closer to yours gently, “does it hurt?”

“No,” his voice was harsh and you thought that maybe he didn’t want to be touched, so you eased back, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that. I just hated the way they were talking about you…”

“They’re just dumb boys who had way too much to drink…”

“But they shouldn’t have talked like that. It’s not okay…” He grabbed your hand, turning his body to you, “are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Thank you,” you smiled, almost to yourself, “for defending me. It’s funny, you know, me and Darcy talked about this a couple days ago…”

“Talked about what?”

“She asked me what I would do if two guys ever fought over me…” you giggled, looking back at Freddie, “yeah this isn’t the exact thing she was thinking of, but it’s pretty close…”

“And you told her…?”

“I said I didn’t think I’d be into it. It’s too much ‘peacocking’ for me,” you admitted but when you saw Freddie’s face fall, you tried to explain, “I didn’t think it would be fighting over me to defend me, if that makes sense? I thought if two guys were fighting over me, it would be something… else… I’m not really sure what. But I don’t know, I liked that you stuck up for me. You didn’t have to, especially if it meant getting into a fist fight, but I appreciate it…”

“I couldn’t just let it happen without at least trying to make it right…” he whispered, “I guess I should’ve known it wouldn’t end well”

“Eh, what’s one small cut?” you smiled, examining the mark on his eyebrow, noticing the skin around it begin to purple. It wasn’t long after that you were dropped off at your apartment building

“Can I just order an Uber and you’ll accept my ride? Does that work?” Freddie asked the driver

“Hold on, wait,” you said abruptly, “what are you doing?”

“Getting a ride home?”

“You’re not coming to say goodnight?” you pouted and watched as Freddie exited the car slowly; the Uber driving off without hesitation, knowing Freddie wasn’t in need of his services; a small smile dancing on your lips. You took Freddie’s hand and led him to the door of your building, laughing when you stumbled occasionally on seemingly nothing, trying not to disturb your neighbours but fearing that you were most likely failing.

“How much farther?” Freddie chuckled from behind you, placing his large hands on either side of your waist to steady you, “should I be carrying you?”

“No no, it’s just a little further..” you said, “unless you want to carry me?” The smile that arose on your face was mirrored quickly on Freddie’s and he jokingly leaned down to pick you up, forcing a loud squeal to escape you and you quickly covered your mouth in embarrassment. When you finally got to your apartment, you turned your key slowly, unsure of how the night would proceed, and gestured for Freddie to come inside once you were in. You noticed him wander around your apartment, looking at the pictures on the walls and the many decorative throw pillows strewn over your couches and chairs, before finally taking a seat

“So, I take it you like pillows?” he joked, making you smile from the kitchen where you stood filling two glasses of water

“I get it from my Mom I think…” you admitted, “she always put out two or three Christmas pillows on every couch in the house during the holidays and then she started finding really punny ones for Halloween, so the whole house was practically bursting in pillows by the time I turned 10. She gave me a couple but I ended up getting some for my dorm anyway, before I moved in here two years ago. When I unpacked I noticed that I had more pillows than couch space.” You laughed uncomfortably as you sat next to Freddie, angling your body until your knees just barely brushed his and waited for him to speak

“I like them. It makes the space feel… homey. Cozy.” He smiled to which you responded brightly, claiming that’s exactly what you were going for. The two of you burned through a few topics rather quickly, laughing here and there when he told you about an ex girlfriend in Denmark and you told him how much your brother used to torment you, regardless of you being the older sibling. You sobered up after the numerous glasses of water you’d had but you didn’t want the night to end or, rather, Freddie to leave. Carefully, you moved closer to him as to not startle the situation but you also didn’t want to push your luck; thinking maybe you’d embarrassed yourself so much tonight that any sudden actions may cause Freddie to think lowly of you. To your surprise, he moved his arm to the back of your couch, allowing you to move even closer to him and your heart began to race; having gone all night without having his lips grasp yours shocked you and, you thought to yourself, it was about time to right that wrong.

You wanted to push forward into him but, for some unknown reason, your head told you to stop, as if to say, “be a lady, (Y/N), don’t be desperate…” It seemed to discourage your thoughts on allowing the night to proceed the way you expected it to. Freddie, it seemed, did not approve of this as he wanted the kiss and the expectation of the night as much as you did; however, he seemed to gauge your uncertainty and moved slowly towards your lips, pushing you closer to him by pressing his hand on your back, between your shoulder blades; his breath was warm as it brushed across your skin and through your hair, suddenly his hands were on your hips and yours had snaked up to linger on his neck. You couldn’t control your breathing anymore and the heat in your face must clearly be showing now, this waiting was becoming painful and, unintentionally, you moaned Freddie’s name, leading him to finally brush his lips against yours lightly; his tongue eventually finding yours and dancing with it slowly.

It wasn’t long before the kissing became harsh and much more sloppy, encouraging you to straddle Freddie; your hands lingering on his chest while you returned to capture his lips and continue dancing your tongue alongside his. When Freddie’s large hands gripped your hips tightly, likely leaving bruises on your delicate skin, your hands snapped to the back of his head to pull at his loose ginger curls. His lips travelled from your lips to your collarbone and hesitant moans escaped your throat as your nails dug into Freddie’s shoulders, marking his skin with small crescent moons underneath his shirt; moving him to lift you up and carry you through your apartment until he found an open door, not caring whether there was a bed in it or not. He’d just as soon place you gently on the floor or up against the wall if there was no mattress.

“Mmm” you hummed before directing him into the right room where he climbed onto your bed with you still wrapped tightly around his body until you felt the fabric of your duvet underneath you. Quickly, your hands found the hem of Freddie’s t-shirt, passing the soft fabric between your fingers for a few seconds before pushing it up, forcing Freddie to lift his arms to allow the shirt to move above his head and, subsequently, onto the floor.

“Do you have a condom?” He breathed into your ear as he continued kissing your neck and you honestly couldn’t remember. The last time you had sex was in January, just before winter break had ended and you were forced to return to classes.

“Uhmm…” you hummed nervously, tracing circles on his chest before he caught your eye and asked if something was wrong, to which you assured him everything was fine but, “we’ll have to search the apartment.. but that might ruin the mood..” Freddie pursed his lips and studied your eyes silently

“What are you thinking?” he asked you and you just smiled before pressing your lips back onto his

“Just that I like the way your lips taste,” you kissed him once more, “and the way they feel across my skin. And I wonder how the rest of you would feel against the rest of me…”

#Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen Smut #Freddie Andersen smut #masterlist #TML smut #TML imagine #Frederik Andersen Imagine #Freddie Andersen imagine

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theycallmebeccawrites · 5 years

Text

One Shot: With A Bang

With Tumblr holding my original writing blog @beccaheartschrisevans captive (aka flagged as explicit), I have made a secondary writing blog and may end up closing the other all together. In the meantime, I am reposting all of my stories on my new blog.

Title: With a Bang

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: descriptive sex scenes

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

18+ Disclaimer: This work contains sexual material that is for those over the age of 18. By clicking the keep reading link below, you are agreeing that you are over the age of 18 and are not offended by sexual content.

Summary: Your plan to ring in the New Year by yourself hits a snag when your roommate drags you to a party at Avenger Tower then she abandons you. Just as you are thinking about leaving, Steve Rogers appears at your side.

This story can also be read on AO3.

An hour ago, you'd been sitting in the living room of the small apartment you shared with your roommate wearing your favorite sweatpants and t-shirt ready to ring in the New Year by yourself. Still new to the New York area and the whole having a roommate thing, you'd opted to spend the evening alone while your roommate, Sam, went to a party with some of her friends.

You had just turned on the TV to find something worth watching when Sam had returned home with a friend, who'd she introduced as Sam Wilson. The two Sam's had gotten a chuckle over your initial confusion regarding the fact that they had the same name and then Sam Wilson had said to call him Falcon, claiming it was his nickname.

Falcon was more than just a nickname, you'd discovered, after the pair had sent you to your room to get dressed for a black tie masquerade party they were going to at Avenger Tower. That's right; Sam's childhood friend Sam "Falcon" Wilson is an Avenger. A fact they had failed to mention until you'd arrived at Avenger Tower and had been led inside without any questions.

Now, you are leaning against the back wall, watching as the Avengers and their fellow partiers, all of whom are wearing masks, celebrate the final hours left in the year. You wish you had asked more questions of the Sams when they had rushed you out of the apartment, because you've never been comfortable in large crowds, especially those where you don't know anyone.

You haven't seen the Sams since Falcon had handed you a simple, black crocheted mask as you'd walked into the party. It had taken you a couple tries to tie it on and when you'd looked up, they were gone. You'd grabbed a drink from the tray of a passing waiter and then had found an empty space along the wall.

As you mentally calculate how much it would cost you to get back to your apartment, if you could even get a cab, someone steps between you and the light closest to you. You turn your face and your eyes land on a solid chest that is outfitted in a tux that you can instantly tell was made for it. You shift your eyes up and you find a strong, chiseled jaw with a small smirk playing on a pair of kissable lips. A black and white mask conceals most of the man's face from you, but you can see the sparkle in his blue eyes.

"Happy New Year," he says in a low voice that fills your stomach with butterflies.

"Happy New Year," you reply.

For one brief second, you wonder if you shouldn't be nervous, but then you remember you're in Avenger Tower and you're doubt a creeper would take a chance with all of the Avengers in the room. You're pretty sure the Avengers would be called to "assemble!" at the smallest cry for help. A giggle escapes your lips at the thought.

"What's so funny?" the masked man asks.

"Nothing," you reply, blushing. Your eyes flicker over to the large portraits on the wall across from you and you gasp when the roaming spotlight lights up the one of Captain America. You quickly shift your eyes back to the stranger next to you and look at his eyes. They're the same as the Captain's.

"Yes, it is me," he confirms, quietly. "But please, call me Steve."

"Steve," you repeat and a smile pulls on his plump lips.

"What's your name, kid?" he asks as he leans against the wall.

You tell him your name and he nods his head. "That's a beautiful name."

"Thanks," you mumble as your face flushes.

"So, tell me, are you here alone?" Spotting a waiter, he motions them over and swaps your empty glass with another one for you and one for him.

"No." You shake your head as you accept the drink. "I'm here with my roommate Sam and her friend Sam, er, Falcon. But I lost track of them."

"You know Falcon?" Steve asks, surprise in his voice.

"I only met him about an hour ago, but apparently he and Sam have known each other since they were kids," you explain. "Have you seen them?"

"No, I haven't, but I'd be happy to help you look for them," Steve offers.

You let your gaze shift out at the large crowd that is dancing almost as one and you shake your head at his offer. "I think I might just go home," you tell him.

"Why?" He asks.

"This isn't my type of scene," you shrug. "If I'd known where they were taking me, I would have declined."

"What did you have planned for tonight?"

"A quiet evening with a few of my favorite movies," you reply. "And a pair of sweatpants." You subconsciously play with the skirt of your dress.

Steve looks out at the party for a few minutes before he turns back to you and says, "I think your plans for the night sound amazing." He glances back at the partiers. "This whole thing was Tony's idea." He shakes his head. "In fact, he just handed out masks and told us to dress up."

You open your mouth to reply, but stop when you hear your name being called. You turn and see your roommate Sam hurrying over to you, her large breasts swinging dangerously under the tiny party dress she's wearing.

"There you are!" she says, reaching your side. "I've been looking all over for you."

"You found me," you say as Falcon appears with two bottles of champagne in his hands.

"Hey Cap," Falcon greets Steve and offers him a bottle of champagne.

"No thanks," Steve replies. He glances between the two Sams and then looks at you.

"Cap?" your roommate says. "As in Captain Am-"

"This is Steve," you cut her off. "Steve, this is my roommate Sam."

Sam giggles as she shakes Steve's hand and you see Falcon roll his eyes.

"Let's go," he says forcefully. "Steve will take care of your roommate, right?" He looks at Steve.

"It would be an honor," Steve nods.

"Have fun," Sam winks at you as Falcon starts to pull her away. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

You shake your head as the two disappear into the crowd again.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Steve asks you. "I have an apartment upstairs."

You consider his offer for a moment. In a typical situation, you'd say no to a complete stranger who invited you to his apartment, but Steve is Captain America and Falcon confirmed that. Plus, it's not like you're actually going to leave Avenger Tower, so Sam can't get mad at you for leaving the party earlier if you never really leave.

"Sure," you finally answer his question.

Steve takes your half full glass and sets it on a nearby table with his own. Once he returns to you, he places his hand on the small of your back, causing shivers to race up your spine, and leads you to a bank of elevators. He hits the UP button to call an elevator and a set of doors opens almost immediately. He leads you into the elevator and then ignores the list of floors on the right and opens a secret panel on the left side of the door.

You lean against the back of the elevator while he messes with the panel and when he steps back, the panel disappears from sight again.

"It will be just a minute or so," he says as he joins you against the back wall. "How long have you known Sam? The female Sam."

"Only a few months," you reply after chuckling at his attempt to clarify which Sam. "I just moved to the area and she was looking for a roommate."

"That's very brave of you."

"My mother thinks I'm insane," you shrug. "But I've always wanted to live here and I knew I couldn't afford it on my own."

The elevator dings as you reach Steve's floor and he leads you into a homey looking apartment that looks like it belongs in a small brick building in Brooklyn and not in a Manhattan skyscraper. There is a small kitchen with an island that opens into a comfortable living room area that reminds you of your grandpa's den save for the expensive looking TV setup.

"We got to design our own apartments," Steve explains as he pulls off his mask. He tosses it onto the island. "Want me to help with yours?"

"Yes please," you reply, turning around. You feel him step behind you and can feel the heat radiating from his body as he unties your mask.

When the mask slackens, you shyly keep it pressed to your face as you turn around and look at him. You slowly unveil yourself to him and you blush when a wide smile breaks across his face.

"You were beautiful with the mask on," he says. "But you're even more beautiful without it." He pauses. "I don't think I've ever seen eyes as beautiful as yours."

"Thank you," you squeak and then blush harder. "Can I use your bathroom?"

Steve nods and points to the first door on the left. You excuse yourself into the bathroom and close the door. You stare at yourself in the mirror and wonder what Captain America sees in you. But he isn't Captain America, you remember. Tonight, he's just your friend Steve and he wants to ring in the New Year with you.

There is a knock on the door and you open it up to find Steve standing on the other side with a small pile of clothes in his hands.

"It will all be too big," he says. "But I brought you a pair of my sweats, a shirt and a sweatshirt. I thought you'd be more comfortable."

"Thank you!" You take the small stack from him and close the bathroom door. You undo the buckles on your heels and step out of them, sighing happily as your feet hit the floor. You then try to undo the zipper of your dress and that's when you remember that Sam had helped you zip it up earlier. You open the bathroom door and then call for Steve.

You feel your face heat up again as he comes out of his bedroom with a pair of sweatpants laying low on his hips and holding his shirt in his hand.

"You called?" he asks with a grin.

"Can you unzip me?"

He nods and you turn around, thankful your hair is already pulled into a bun and out of the way. Your feel his large hands on your back as he pulls the zipper all the way down. You open your mouth to tell him about the hook at the top of the dress, but stop when he undoes it without your instruction. You cross your arms tightly then turn to look at him.

"Thank you," you say before you go back into the bathroom. You close the door and then slip your arms out of the spaghetti straps of the dress and let the black material fall to the floor. You debate whether or not to leave on your strapless bra, but decide you'll be more comfortable without it.

When you leave the bathroom, a couple minutes later, you are wearing Steve's way too long, baggy sweatpants, a dress-length t-shirt that is hidden under an even longer sweatshirt and a pair of men's tube socks. You carry your dress, shoes and bra with you as you attempt to keep the pants from sliding down. Deciding you need both hands, you drop your stuff onto the floor near the front door and make the mistake of letting go of the pants for a fraction of second and they fall to your feet.

"I made -" Steve's words dissolve into laughter as you quickly pull the pants back up, thankful the extra-long shirts mean he hasn't seen the ridiculous thong that Sam had insisted you wear tonight.

"You look adorable," he continues to laugh.

"We can't all be giant super soldiers," you point out. An idea comes to you and you pull the hair tie from your hair, shaking out your shiny locks as you bunch up the waistband of the sweatpants. It isn't until you've wrapped the hair tie around the bun-like gathering of the waistband that you realize Steve is no longer laughing. You look up at him questioningly and you're surprised to see a flush fill his cheeks.

"I made popcorn," he says, after a second, nodding his head towards the bowl of popcorn in his hands. "Shall we watch a movie now?"

You nod and follow him to the living room part of his open concept living room. With the pants situation taken care of, you are drawn to the windows that look out at the city. The tower is a few blocks from Times Square, but even from this height you can see that people are gathered in the streets below the tower.

"There's nothing quite like New Year's Eve in New York," Steve says, standing next to you at the floor to ceiling windows. "Even growing up in Brooklyn, I always wanted to come to Times Square."

"Did you?" you ask.

"Not before the war, no," he shook his head. "But the first year I was back, or rather, the first year after I was found, I went, but I was by myself, so it wasn't the same."

The two of you stay at the window for a bit long before Steve speaks, "You mentioned you were going to watch movies tonight. Which ones?"

"Whatever I found on TV," you shrug. "There is a classic movie channel that I'm sort of obsessed with."

Steve leads you over to the couch and then hands you the remote for his TV. You smile and turn it on, quickly finding the classic movie channel. "Oh," you say as you lower yourself onto the couch. "It's An Affair to Remember?"

"The movie?" he asks as he sits down near you and you nod. "Is it a good one?"

"It's one of my favorites," you reply. "And it looks like we only missed the first fifteen minutes or so."

"What did we miss?" he asks as the channel goes to commercial.

You quickly give him a recap of how the two main characters, Nickie and Terry, meet on an ocean liner that left New York headed for Europe. You explain that they are both in relationships with other people, but they keep running into each other and have become fast friends.

As the movie comes back on, you fall silent and you both watch the movie.

"Do you mind if I stretch out my arm?" Steve asks quietly.

"No, that's ok," you reply.

He stretches his arm across the back of the couch. He isn't touching you, but you can still feel the warmth radiating from his body.

By the time the movie ends, your head is lying on Steve's shoulder and his arm is wrapped around you. You aren't sure how the two of you got into this position, but you don't mind it. You actually kind of like it.

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room chimes in the New Year, a few minutes later.

"Happy New Year, kid," Steve says.

You lift your face towards him and your eyes close of their own accord when you sense him tilting his down. His plump lips meet yours for a chaste kiss as fireworks light up the night outside the tower.

Wanting to kiss him properly, you shift out of his embrace and raise yourself to your knees. You lick your lips and then lean in to kiss him again. His hands find your hips and he pulls you into his lap with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck as you run your tongue across his lips, wanting to deepen the kiss. It takes him a minute, but he opens his mouth and slides his tongue over yours.

When you part, breathless, a few minutes later, you press your forehead against Steve's. You can feel his hard cock through the combined layers of your sweatpants and you know you need to decide now how far you're going to let this go.

You aren't a virgin, but you've never slept with someone outside of being in a relationship with them and you always made them wait until the third date, at least. But there is something special about Steve and you felt it before you found out that he was Captain America.

Pulling back to look at Steve's face, you inadvertently position your pussy directly over the hard member in his pants. Lust flashes in his now-deep blue eyes, but he says nothing and you know he is waiting for you to decide.

"Where is your bedroom?" you ask him.

"The door behind you," he replies, huskily.

You climb off of his lap and make your way towards the closed door. Feeling his eyes on you, you pull the borrowed sweatshirt and t-shirt over your head then glance back at him as you drop them onto the floor.

He is behind you in a flash, grabbing you by the waist as your hand reaches the doorknob to his room. He presses his thick cock against you, making sure you can feel it as he whispers, "Are you certain about this?"

"Yes."

His bedroom door swings open, but before you can enter, he spins you around and pulls your face to his with his hands on either side of your face. You bare chests meets his as his mouth gives yours a sample of what it is to come.

You lift your hands and wrap them around his neck as his hands drop to your bottom and he lifts you with ease. Your fingers find the small hairs at the back of his neck as he carries you into his room.

He rips his mouth from yours as he runs into something and you squeal as you fall backwards with him falling towards you. You land on his bed with a soft 'umpf' and he catches himself with his hands on either side of you as to not crush you.

A giggle escapes your lips as you look up into his eyes.

"Well that didn't work out the way I planned," he mumbles.

"So you weren't carrying me to your bed?" you ask as you untangle your hands from around his neck and lower them to his bare torso.

"Well, yes, I was," he responds. "But not like -"

You cut him off by leaning up and pressing your lips against his, reminding him why the two of you are in his room.

As you kiss, you feel him lift you with one hand and pull you onto the bed fully.

Pulling away, he leans forward a grabs a pillow for you to rest your head on. He then moves down and undoes the hair tie that is keeping his sweatpants on your much smaller frame. He slides the hair tie onto his wrist and then pulls the sweatpants down your legs, leaving you in just your 'Happy New Year' thong and his tube socks.

You watch as Steve reads what written on your panties and see a smirk cross his face.

"It was a gift," you tell him. "From my roommate."

"I like it."

You grab his hands when he reaches for the waistband of your thong and shake your head. "Take your sweats of first," you tell him.

Climbing off the bed, he keeps his eyes focused on yours as he undoes the drawstring of his sweats. He pushes them down then steps out of them.

You raise yourself up onto your elbows and lick your lips at the sight of his cock, which is standing at attention for you.

Steve grabs your attention as he pulls his socks from your feet, making you fall back against the pillow. His fingers find the waistband of your thong and he quickly pulls it down your legs before dropping it onto the floor, leaving you both completely naked.

He rejoins you on the bed and there is a confidence to his movements that tell you he isn't a novice when it comes to interactions with the opposite sex. His hands glide over your body, touching you in places that you never imagined would turn you on, but they do.

You arch your back as his hands pass between your breasts and you feel more than hear his rumble of amusement. After what seems like forever, his hands finally touch your breasts and you bit down on your lower lip as his hands worship your twin peaks. You whimper as his tongue circles one of your nipples and you grab the back of his head as he latches onto your breast with his mouth. Your fingers find the fine hairs on the back of his neck as he switches his oral attention to your other breast and you squeal when he softly bites at your sensitive skin.

Your hands fall to your sides as he moves down your body to the apex of your legs. His hands slid down your legs before he carefully positions them so he can nestle himself between them.

His fingers dance across the tender skin of your inner thighs and you shiver as tingles race up your spin. He slowly draws his fingers in towards your pussy and glides the palm of his hand over your folds, making you cry out in frustration.

"Patience," he whispers against your heated skin. His initial touches are deliberately gentle as he unveils your most intimate parts to his eyes. He drags his thumb up to your clit, making your hips jerk and a moan escape your lips.

His fingers slide across your pussy lips, increasing your arousal before he slides a finger into your vagina. He soon has you mewing as he slides a second digit into you and then, ultimately, slides his tongue through your velvety folds before flicking it against your clit.

Your orgasm hits you and you cry out in a much louder fashion than you ever have before, but you have no control over it. You're slightly embarrassed by the volume until you catch his eyes and see the pride in them. Then the bastard latches onto your clit with his mouth and pulls another loud cry from your lips.

When Steve sits up, he is grinning proudly and licking his lips. He uses his mouth to clean your juices from his fingers and then leans over your body to open a drawer in his bedside table.

You smile as you reach out and run your fingers down the shaft of his penis, loving how it jerks forward at your touch. You run your hand over the tip, spreading the precum down as you hear him close the drawer. You hear him tear open a foil wrapper and he holds the latex circle out for you.

Taking it from him, you roll it onto his hardness and then spit in your hand before wrapping your hand around him. He allows you to pump him a couple times, before he backs away.

Steve positions himself between your legs and then guides himself into you slowly, allowing your body to adjust to his girth. Once he is fully seated, he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. You open your mouth for him as he begins to move.

As his pace increases, your mouths part and he buries his face into the side of your neck. Your hands grab onto the strong muscle of his back and hold on as he thrusts in and out of you, his speed picking up with each one.

His pleasure-filled moan fills your ears as his body jerks above yours. He rolls the pair of you over so you're on top and you quickly move your hands from his shoulders to the muscular eight pack of his torso. His fingers slip to your clit and you lean forward as you ride him.

Your combined efforts soon have you filling his bedroom with your ecstasy as you come. Nearly recovered from his own release, he leans forward and captures your mouth with his, stifling your cries.

He rolls you again so you're lying on the bed and then slides out of you. He presses a quick kiss to your lips and then climbs off of the bed. He disappears into the ensuite bathroom and returns a moment later with a wet washrag and without the condom. He helps clean you up and then pulls back the blankets of his bed as if there is no question whether or not you're staying the night.

You climb under the covers and smile when he slides in next to you. You study his features in the limited light that it come in from the windows and smile. You aren't sure what this New Year has in store for you, but it definitely started with a bang.

Want to find me off tumblr? I’m @beccatheycallme on twitter. I also post my stories on AO3.

My tag list is always open, just let me know if you’d like to be added!

#chris evans #theycallmebecca #beccaheartschrisevans #theycallmebeccawrites #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #reader insert

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insanityclause · 5 years

Link

“I’m a meat and two veg kinda fella,” says Kenneth Branagh. “I love my fish and chips, and my English breakfast, and I like my football and horse racing – my dad loved the horses.” His tastes, he admits, such as his signature dessert recipe for melted Mars bar over vanilla ice cream, were formed in his working-class childhood.

For the past four decades, this son of a joiner from Belfast has been living cheek by jowl with that other great scion of the lower classes – William Shakespeare. Ever since Branagh became a stage and film star playing Henry V in the Eighties, he’s been directing Shakespeare’s works, adapting them, playing many of his great characters. Now, at 58, he is assuming the bald pate, sharp nose and very pointed beard of the playwright himself, in the self-directed All Is True.

It’s an unexpectedly moving portrait. Branagh’s Will is entering his 50s, and retiring from London to Stratford-upon-Avon, where he had long owned a house, and where at 18, he had married Anne Hathaway, a 26-year-old already pregnant with their child. It’s 1613, the Globe Theatre has burned down, and the playwright is still grieving the death of his only son, Hamnet, many years earlier.

“For me, it was a sort of time travel,” says Branagh, whose enduring boyishness hides the fact that he is eight years older than the Shakespeare we meet in the film. (The playwright died in 1616, at the age of 52.) Branagh’s Shakespeare is stiff of bearing; Branagh isn’t. He’s playful while having his photograph taken in the London hotel where we meet, and his comfortable clothes – knitwear – mirror a softness in his tone and manner. It masks a seriousness that shows itself often when he speaks.

After all these years exploring Shakespeare’s work, does the think he has a feel for the man? “I have a sense of preoccupations that repeat themselves,” he says. “They came together when I played Leontes in The Winter’s Tale a couple of years ago, because it did feel like a play from a man at the end of his professional life, maybe in the evening of his life – there was such a longing in it for this lost child, such an ache for the reunification of a family, that it seemed to add up with all sorts of longings in the plays, even in the comedies.”

The grief for Hamnet in All Is True is so acute that, set against the way Will yearns for a male heir, and his complicated relationship with his daughters, Susanna and Judith (Hamnet’s twin), it makes you wonder whether Branagh has been contemplating his own mortality. Does he wish that he had had children?

“Didn’t happen,” he shrugs. “It doesn’t seem to me to be valuable to be wishing and hoping for things that don’t appear to have been on your dance card. I go with what we have. I start with, are you healthy, do you have some family, do you have some friends? Anything north of that’s terrific.”

Since 2003, Branagh has been married to art director Lindsay Brunnock. Before that, of course, he was married to Emma Thompson – a celebrity coupling that was so ubiquitous between 1989 and 1994 that they were referred to simply as “Ken and Em”. They acted in a series of Branagh’s films together, such as the history-repeats-itself thriller Dead Again (1991), the rather precious paean to privilege, Peter’s Friends (1992), and a very winning Much Ado About Nothing (1993), before the partnership ended with Branagh’s affair with Helena Bonham Carter. Does he think he and Thompson will ever work together again? “I don’t know,” he says. Would he like to? “She’s a terrific talent, so who knows?”

Branagh is clearly not keen to talk about his personal life, however much of it is already in the public arena. Yet so little is known of Shakespeare’s life that All Is True must make a series of guesses to fill the void. (The script is written by Ben Elton, who has already treated the subject as comedy in Upstart Crow.) But the element most likely to raise eyebrows is the casting of Judi Dench as Hathaway. Dench is 84. It’s very unusual to cast a woman 26 years older than her leading man, isn’t it? “Is she 26 years [older]?” says Branagh, surprised. “Really?” I nod – does he think audiences will balk at that?

“I don’t think so. I was aware that for the past 100 years of cinema that age gap has usually been the other way round. If it felt it was going to kill the story, I would have been terrified; for some maybe it will, but for me, not at all. She’s unique and to have that chance with one of the greatest living actors, the age thing didn’t come into it.”

Is it an example of “age-blind casting”? “Yeah, I guess so. She was the right person for the role.” The film seems to suggest that Hathaway and Shakespeare reunite sexually, too. I wonder if, as a director, he considered having a physical scene between them? “No, it didn’t seem appropriate for this. I wouldn’t have balked at it if it had seemed right, very much not.”

He also shares a seven-minute scene with Ian McKellen, who plays the Earl of Southampton, to whom Shakespeare famously dedicated two poems. It evolves into a duel between heavyweight Shakespeareans when both recite Sonnet 29 (“When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes”). “I practised for that scene as I’ve never practised before,” Branagh admits, explaining that he went to see McKellen perform as Lear last year, and rehearsed with him backstage. “I found that pretty intimidating… You’ve got to be up pretty early in the morning to keep up with Dench, but with him…”

It’s one of the pivotal moments of the film, which clearly suggests that the Bard was in love with a man. Is that an unavoidable conclusion from the Sonnets, four-fifths of which are addressed to a “fair youth”? “I think it’s certainly unavoidable not to consider it very strongly,” Branagh says. Is there room for doubt that Shakespeare preferred men? He laughs. He’s weighing his words carefully. “I think it’s a strong possibility.”

Branagh does this a lot, studiedly avoiding sound-bites. Asked if he believes Shakespeare was indeed the author of the plays, he decides: “The other theories are brilliant speculations, but there has been no winning piece of evidence. In the current state of knowledge, I would follow the man from Stratford.”

Branagh’s family moved from Belfast to Reading to escape the Troubles when he was nine. As a boy from the sticks, who arrived at Rada in the late Seventies, then went on to act, direct and try his hand as a playwright, had he wanted to actually be Shakespeare?

It’s impossible to imagine it, he says. He just felt “so at home and happy telling stories in the theatre to a live audience, the itinerant nature of it. Those that were ahead of me – whether it was Shakespeare or actors of the past or directors – I was inspired by them.”

Branagh’s career began in a blaze of glory. But while his stage reputation continued to grow, in film at least there was a mid-period lull. His Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (1995) was panned; his run of big-screen Shakespeare adaptations stuttered with the widely derided song-and-dance version of Love’s Labour’s Lost (2000), and even when he returned with a striking As You Like It (2006) set in 19th-century Japan, around the same time as The Magic Flute (2006) and Sleuth (2007), all three “received a pretty rough time”, he says. Yet he’s sanguine about criticism. “Sometimes people don’t like ’em. It’s as simple as that. I put the same feeling into all of them.”

He has always had a phenomenal approach to work that seems to border on mania. Since he was 29, he has been using meditation to ensure that he doesn’t yo-yo between frantic activity – “I wouldn’t characterise it as manic, but I would say, yes, extremely hectic at times” – and its corresponding depressive state.

“I knew I had to work quite hard at all those things that would try to allow you some peace amid the noise and haste. I like to read about spiritual matters and I’ve developed the meditation since then to try to find the way to turn down the noise. When the engine’s revving really high, I think you have to be careful.”

A decade ago, Branagh made the decision to leave the West End production of Hamlet he had been about to direct, starring Jude Law, to take up the reins of Thor (2011) for Marvel. It was a change of direction that opened the door to a new phase in his career, as a director of blockbuster movies. He won’t accept the charge that comic-book films have killed grown-up cinema – “Well I’ve just made a grown-up film, I’d say” – and mounts a strong defence.

“In the best hands you get stories that involve spectacle and, in some cases, depth or wit or creative imagination that allows for a really cinematic experience, they provide stories that make you want to go to the pictures. They ain’t killing grown-up movies.”

His hit 2015 Cinderella, starring Lily James and Richard Madden, will be followed this summer by a lavish Disney adaptation of Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer’s 2001 novel about a boy genius who discovers the fairy world beneath our feet. Blockbusters bring their own set of pressures. Does he fear that if Artemis Fowl bombs, that avenue closes? “No, it doesn’t feel that way, although perhaps it is that way,” Branagh says. “I think if it felt like that it would be quite hard to do the work, but I’ve certainly been in situations where if a movie doesn’t work you’re really aware of the cold winds that blow around you for a while. It’s a commercial business and these are big investments.”

What would he do if an invitation to take on the Bond franchise came his way? “I have absolutely no idea,” he says. “I have Artemis Fowl to finish and I hope we get to make Death on the Nile [the second of his Agatha Christie adaptations, after Murder on the Orient Express, in which he stars as Poirot] towards the end of the year. Ask me the Bond question a picture or so from now.” He leans back.

“I should be so lucky.”

There will be a preview screening of 'All is True' followed by a Q&A with Kenneth Branagh at VUE cinema in Leicester Square on Wednesday 6th February, from 6.30pm.

Tickets are £20 for non-subscribers and £10 for subscribers.

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