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hookingminor · 2 years

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baby, you make me crazy (pt 4) - tyson jost

a/n: I hate proofreading fics bc it’s like damn I kinda hate this and also who let the dirty slut out of the slut house and allowed her to write this

word count: 3.8k

warnings (18+): mentions of alcohol, smut (unprotected), quite nsfw, not sorry

1 / 2 / 3

4. The Intervention

Tyson should’ve known better than to admit anything to JT because within twenty-four hours, the entire team knew of Tyson’s predicament. He was liable to beat his best friend up.

The shit-eating grins were endless the first practice they found out. Three long, insufferable hours were filled with chirps and a chorus of “I told you so”s and pitiful laughter every time someone skated by him on the ice.

Celebratory shouts soon fell to silence when Tyson had to admit you weren’t actually a thing yet, he’d only come to the conclusion that he wanted more with you. He still had no idea what he was going to do about it though.

He almost clocked Cale in the head after finding out he’d supposedly won the internal bet the team had going on about when Tyson would finally realize he was into you. Stupid fucker placed his bet on before the end of this hockey season (half of them had already lost since it was well past their deadline and only Sam, Nate, and JT were still in the running). Tyson almost didn’t care that Cale was, probably, the nicest one on the team; it was still a betrayal. One he couldn’t even really be mad at since technically they were all right.

Still, Tyson’s list of “friends he wanted to punch” was growing infinitely longer.

In addition to Cale and JT, Mikko had soon climbed to the number one position on that list. This fucker had it coming for real.

Mikko knew exactly what he was doing the second he greeted you at the charity event, coming up from behind you and wrapping his arms around your middle to pull you flush against his chest and then placing a kiss on your cheek. Mikko had always been touchy with you, except now it was getting on Tyson’s nerves.

Tyson’s jaw clenched in anger when you didn’t immediately push yourself out of his grip. Instead, you only laughed at Mikko’s flirtation and ran your hand over his arm and returned the sentiment with a cheek kiss of your own. Well, it would’ve been a cheek kiss if he wasn’t so damn tall, so it landed on the corner of his jaw instead. And all the while, Mikko kept eye contact with Tyson. The little shit had the nerve to even send him a knowing smirk.

“You’re going to break your jaw clenching that hard, Josty. You all right over there?” Mikko chirped, giving your hip a too-friendly squeeze.

Tyson had never actually hit someone in a true fit of anger before, but he was about to break his pacifist rule very soon if Mikko didn’t take his hands off of you. Tyson especially tried his hardest not to think about the brief crush you harbored for his Finnish friend when you first met him. Maybe you even asked Tyson to set him up with Mikko, and that thought sat like lead in his stomach now.

His grip around the champagne glass tightened as a surge of possessiveness rolled through him. You were the unofficial Avalanche girlfriend for all the single guys on the team, though Tyson always had dibs on you first because you were his best friend. It was easy because you weren’t tied to anyone specific, but that thought grated on Tyson now.

You wingwoman-ed at bars, sometimes playing the role of a satisfied ex-lover when needed or stepping in when other women got too close and they weren’t into it. You stepped up and made those charity baskets for Andre every year without fail. You made Mikko a week’s worth of food dishes when he’d broken his collarbone. Hell, you and Cale had your own secret little book club that no one else knew about. It shouldn’t have bothered Tyson that they were all so close to you. It never bothered him before now.

Still, you were Tyson’s date. Which meant Tyson had claim over you for the evening, and he was done letting his teammate feel you up. That was his job, damn it.

“Get your own date, Mikko. She’s mine for the night,” Tyson laughed, though it was laced with a threat. He smiled, but it was forced and everyone knew it as they chuckled along. Tyson had it bad.

They all sent him knowing looks when Tyson pulled you by the wrist into his side. He kept his arm around your waist, high enough to be respectful but low enough to let them all know to not fucking touch you again or he’d be practicing slap shots on them next practice.

He figured it was only a matter of time before one of them said something stupid. “Do you want to get a drink?” Tyson whispered into your ear, hoping you’d say yes so you could get some reprieve.

Tyson kept you pressed to his side for the remainder of the evening, hand gently cupping your waist while he introduced you to donors and sponsors.

Did he always stand so close to you? Was he always this touchy? It’s like you could feel every inch where your bodies connected even through layers of fabric. It didn’t help that you actually knew how he felt against you without all those layers.

You’d be a liar if you said the scent of his cologne wasn’t lighting tiny fires inside of you every time you got a whiff of it near his collar. Was it appropriate to call the way someone smelled erotic and heady? Because your entire body felt hot.

His scruff was the perfect length, his curls were freshly washed and dried, and he even put on a new suit you hadn’t seen before. You weren’t sure how he picked out such a stunning suit considering his usual array was dismal at best, but he looked good. Better than he normally did, and it was going to your head like the champagne in your glass.

All you wanted to do was pull him to your mouth by his tie and kiss him deeply. And then maybe use that tie to knot him to a headboard and have your way with him.

Perhaps all the drinks were getting to you if you were thinking about Tyson like this.

It went on like that for an hour, Tyson making small talk with old, balding white men while you smiled wistfully and tried not to let your dirty imaginations run wild which was incredibly hard to do when his thumb ran mindless circles over your hip. You couldn’t remember the conversations you had with people within seconds of leaving. Thank god you weren’t actually expected to schmooze like the other significant others.

You could see the eyebrows quirk in interest when Tyson introduced you as a friend, though the flexing of his hand on your hip said he wasn’t happy with the new looks thrown your way.

When Tyson had picked you up for the event, he knew you looked good. He’d risen to a semi by the time you walked back down to the car, but the fact that you looked like a delicious cupcake he wanted to unwrap and eat didn’t fully hit him until the first old man let his gaze linger on your chest too long for it to be considered respectful.

Fuck. Did you always get so much attention from guys?

It didn’t help that everyone was at least in their mid-thirties, rich, and some of them even married. Tyson was already competing with one rich guy for your attention, he didn’t need anyone else throwing their hat into the ring.

The looks were leering, glancing up and down your body to size you up, and Tyson was starting to think maybe your décolletage was too enticing in that dress. His hand clenched on your hip before he could help himself.

“If you’ll excuse us, we have a few other people to greet,” Tyson smiled politely, though he was feeling anything but.

“Of course. It was lovely making your acquaintance, Y/N. And good luck next week in Dallas, Jost.” Tyson couldn’t steer you away from the man fast enough.

“Asshole,” Tyson muttered under his breath when the donor was out of ear shot.

You laughed and poked his side. “Be nice. They’re the ones who pay your salary.”

“The least they could do is not ogle my date right in front of me,” he scoffed.

“How could they not?” You teased, stepping in front of him to give him a flirtatious twirl. “Have you seen the way I’m wearing this dress?”

His jaw tightened before your eyes while his dipped down to your chest briefly before meeting your stare. You’d recognize a lust-filled look anywhere. “Yes,” Tyson said through a pained groan. “I have.”

You raised an eyebrow. Maybe you weren’t the only one whose head was left a little scrambled after the mind-blowing sex you had.

You stepped back into his space and slid your hand across his abdomen underneath his suit jacket. He tensed beneath your touch. “I know you said it was only a one time thing,” you leaned in to whisper into his ear. “But we could always head out early and take this back to your place.”

“You serious?” He asked, glancing down at you, desire written across his face. A hand curled around your neck, and he tugged roughly to tilt your head back. A soft gasp escaped your lips. Biting your lip, you nodded your head.

It was a terrible idea, but Tyson was a glutton for punishment so he reached into his pocket to retrieve his valet card and slid it into your palm. “Go get the car. I’ll go tell the guys goodbye.”

Lust clouded your mind as you exited the hotel, and you barely registered giving Tyson’s name to the valet or the wait for him to pull the car around. The car ride back passed in a blur, the tension between you two sitting thick while you sat with clenched thighs and Tyson white-knuckled the steering wheel.

He parked the car and led you to the hidden freight elevator in the parking garage. Typing his passcode in record speed, it took a split second for the elevator to shift into motion before he was pulling you against his body.

“Still sure about this?” He asked again, letting his hands drift down to your ass and giving it a hearty squeeze.

“Mhm,” you hummed with a smile. “Not gonna get weird on me, are you, Tys?”

Oh boy, if you only knew.

Tyson didn’t say anything because he couldn’t lie to you or incriminate himself, so he chose to lower his head to yours instead. Your lips met in a hot kiss, hands immediately going to wrap around his shoulders to pull yourself closer. A deep groan sounded from his throat, and he pressed your hips closer to his until you could feel his hard cock against your stomach.

The elevator dinged when you arrived at his floor, and you broke the kiss long enough to unlock his apartment, which was the first door thankfully, and shove yourselves inside.

The door clicks shut behind you, and Tyson’s hands were back on your waist, his lips back on yours and guiding you to the nearest surface: his kitchen counter.

Hard granite bit into the small of your back as Tyson pressed you against it, and his mouth left yours to attach itself to your neck. Kisses spread along your jaw and down your throat, and he paused every few moments to bite your skin before soothing it over with his tongue.

His roaming hands sliding the fabric of your dress up and over your hips had your eyes rolling to the back of your head while his scruff rubbed your neck raw. God, you’d kill to feel that on the inside of your thighs.

You were thoroughly soaked through your panties by now, and if you were being honest, they were ruined halfway through the event. Tyson just looked that fucking good and you couldn’t not think about his hands caressing your body when you were that close to him all night.

“How bad do you want it, baby?” He growled in your ear, hooking his fingers underneath your thong and shoving it down your hips. You kicked the ruined fabric off to the side carelessly, too preoccupied with Tyson’s lips licking over the exposed skin of your chest.

“Bad,” you admitted on a sigh. “Please, Tys. I need you to fuck me.”

“Yeah? Have you been thinking about me since last time?” His teeth nipped at your ear.

You hesitated for a moment. Yeah, you were lust-drunk, but were you horny enough to admit that you had been thinking about him? Even after you said you wouldn’t? You couldn’t help that his face popped into your head every time you brought your trusty vibrator between your legs. The usual hot celebrity men no longer did it for you. Henry Cavill’s beautiful face morphed into Tyson’s the second you let yourself get caught up in your masturbatory fantasies. All you could envision was your best friend between your legs, working you to orgasm and edging you.

Tyson noticed your pause and decided to bite the bullet. “What if I told you I’ve been thinking about you? Constantly. What if I told you that every time I jerked myself off on the road, I imagined it was your hand gripping me and squeezing me? I fucked myself to the thought of your tight pussy every night.”

“Oh god,” you whined at his confession, pools of wetness dripping down your thighs. You needed him badly.

“Well? Did you think of me?” Two fingers slid through your folds, and he moaned at the way you soaked them instantly.

“Yes,” you said.

“Did you get yourself off to me like I did?” You nodded.

“What did you imagine?” He asked, slowly circling your clit.

“You,” you gasped. “Fucking me deep. From behind. Filling me up.”

His breath turned ragged, each intake sounding painful as he listened to you list your fantasies. Your fingernails dug into his bicep while Tyson slipped his fingers into your cunt, stretching you open in the way you’d been desperate for since the last time he fucked you.

You’d been so on edge all night that the drag of his fingers against your walls had you cresting that high quickly. You were seconds away from coming before he was removing his fingers and flipping you around.

The abrupt movement had your head spinning as Tyson bent you over and pressed your chest to the countertop. “We should make that dream a reality, huh?” He said lowly, against your back.

His hand pressed against your spine while his other hiked up the rest of your dress over your ass to expose yourself to him. “Tyson, please,” you moaned with your cheek pressed to the granite. Your toes barely touched the ground as Tyson parted your ass cheeks, running his thumb through the wetness coating you.

“Fuck, baby,” he cursed. “You've been wet like this for me all night? I would’ve taken care of this earlier had you said something.” He would’ve skipped the entire event if he knew.

His touch was torturous, teasing your folds lightly while you wiggled underneath him. “Stop teasing me and fuck me already,” you begged.

“You know I like to play with my food first,” he chuckled deeply, keeping his touch featherlight.

Your eyes fell shut in agony, wishing for this torment to end. You thought he was finally done messing with you when you heard him unbuckle his belt, but he only pulled his cock out to run it through your folds and not rail you like you wanted.

“Tyson,” you groaned in exasperation.

“I don’t think I’m done hearing you beg quite yet.” His head caught your clit with the next pass.

“Please fuck me,” you begged without hesitation. “Please, Tyson. I need you so bad, I haven’t stopped thinking about you since I rode you on that couch. I’m so empty without you.” God, you sounded like a slut but you couldn’t be bothered to care right now.

“Next time, I’m going to take my time with you until you’re coming on my tongue,” Tyson promised, and the next second he was pushing into you with a harsh thrust. Your mind was already fuzzy thinking about a next time with Tyson.

Simultaneous moans left your throats when he seated himself to the hilt, and he felt impossibly deeper than last time with this angle. Your toes were fully off the floor now with the force of Tyson rocking you forward on the counter. The pain of the granite cutting into your hips was distant though you were sure you’d have bruises tomorrow, but nothing else mattered other than the feeling of Tyson’s cock splitting you open.

“Oh, Tyson,” you cried out when he hit that spot deep inside you, and your orgasm took you by surprise when he passed over it a second time.

You quivered below him, eyes screwed shut while you shattered and clenched around him.

“Already, babe?” He chuckled behind you, giving you no reprieve as he fucked you through it. The squeezing of your cunt felt like heaven and hell around him.

Your jaw had fallen slack while he continued to fuck you, your entire body feeling overstimulated even though he’d barely been touching you. He was fucking dangerous if he could make you this overwhelmed with barely even trying.

Your brain was complete mush, and your words were incoherent moans by the time Tyson was stilling inside you and pumping you full of his cum. The feeling was scarily satisfying, his cum filling you deep and even dripping down your thighs when he managed to pull out and collapse his head against your shoulder blades.

His breaths came out in pants against your skin, his world thoroughly rocked for the second time. If Tyson had any doubts that the first time was a fluke, they were all put to rest now. He was positive no one would ever do it for him like you. You were just too perfect.

You were on the verge of passing out when you felt his fingers trail between your thighs, collecting at the cum still slowly sliding down your thigh and bringing it back to your pussy.

“Too much,” you slurred when his fingers pressed against your entrance, making you twitch when they pushed back inside you.

“It’s always too much with you,” he comments quietly, burying himself knuckle-deep. “You can give me one more, baby. I know you can.”

The words roll through your body, the sweetest of praises as Tyson continues to mutter encouragements in your ear. He fucks you with his fingers slowly, and you’re reduced to a boneless pile with only Tyson’s name on your lips as he brings you to the edge again.

Your second orgasm has your toes curling and fingers clenching the counter as Tyson leaves open-mouth kisses along your back. “Good girl,” he whispers as he feels you squeeze around him.

Your body floats back down to earth after his fingers leave your cunt, and he plants your feet soundly back on the ground. You brought your hands underneath your forehead to steady yourself and catch your breath, your mind still on cloud-nine and not ready to leave this happy bubble of orgasms.

The soft feel of tissues cleaning between your thighs takes you by surprise, and you gasp as Tyson wipes away the cum coating your pussy before shimmying your dress back down.

“You good, babe?” Tyson asked as he pulled you upright. You were a little unsteady on your feet and most definitely lust-drunk now as you looked up at your best friend with those hazy bedroom eyes. “You look like a lost doe.”

“I feel like one too,” you laughed lightly, holding onto his arm for support.

His hand cups the back of your neck and brings you in for a sweet kiss, and you meet it eagerly and pliantly.

“We should get you to bed,” Tyson smiles at you, caressing your cheek with his thumb. You nod in agreement.

“Only if you promise we can do this again in the morning,” you said without reservation, too satisfied to think better of your words.

Tyson only laughs. “Okay, off to bed with you, you hussy. I’ll be there in a minute. Help yourself to whatever clothes you want. Or don’t.” He nips at your jaw.

You stare at him, lost and with wide doe-eyes like you’re waiting for his next instruction. Your glazed-over look is immensely pleasing to Tyson, and he turns you towards the bedroom and sends you off with a pat on the ass.

You hurry down the hall and disappear into his bedroom while Tyson finishes locking up, securing the front door and making sure all the lights are off. A ping sounds from a corner near the front door, and Tyson recognizes it as your phone that’s been long forgotten in your purse.

Curiosity gets the best of him, and maybe he wants to make sure it’s not an emergency someone’s trying to alert you of, so he checks your phone.

Will: I’m off call next weekend if you’d like to get together. I really want to see you again. There is a symphony orchestra on Saturday if you’re interested.

The message has Tyson’s back straightening in agitation as he reads over it again. Fucking hell. When were you finally going to cut this guy off? Tyson was starting to become more than annoyed at Will’s presence in your life. Annoyance would slowly be turning into anger if he stayed around much longer.

Maybe it was petty on Tyson’s part, but he was doing it for good reason when he unlocked your phone with the passcode you gave to Tyson and opened the text thread. Will wasn’t right for you anyway.

So Tyson edited the thread, clicked on Will’s last message, and deleted it. Then he locked your phone and tucked it back into your purse.

Good riddance.

Whatever brief and faint guilt he felt over deleting the text soon faded when he heard you call his name from the bedroom asking where he was at, and he set your purse back down on the ground before going to join you.

He shed his tie and button-up the second he crossed his bedroom door and found you nestled under his sheets and waiting for him. He sure as hell wasn’t going to feel bad about deleting that message with you in his bed looking freshly fucked and cute as hell.

This is where you belonged. In Tyson’s bed and cuddling into his side and waking up next to him. Will could go to hell because there was no way Tyson was letting you go now.

#tyson jost imagine #tyson jost #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my writing #avs17 #baby you make me crazy

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dolliedarlin · 3 years

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HHHHIIII!!! I wanted to start off by saying that I love your fics and I'm excited to see what you have in store for the future. By far my favorites are "Kiripima" and "Bakusquad P.A series".

Speaking of the "Bakusquad P.A series" imagine this- Imagine a senerio where the reader already has a child, more specifically a daughter. Like she either got hit with a quirk to make her pregnant. Or maybe her ex got her pregnant and left cause he didn't want to deal with the baby(Why do I picture all of the Bakusquad trying everything in their power to hunt him down and personally beat the sh*t out of him??)Anyways, years pass and her daughter is a teenage now. And I cackle thinking about the squad trying everything to get her daughter to like them. Also are really protective. And she did hate them at first because of ✨trust issues✨, she does warm up to them...eventually. But still pretends to hate them just to upset them😂🤣. If there's anything you want to add, feel free.😚✌🏼️ Thanks🧡❤️💛🖤💖🤍

that's so kind! thank you, dollface, i really appreciate it ^7^ and i'm so happy to hear that you enjoy both series' since they're both very dear to me too <3

(goodness...i have a lot of scenarios piled up in my ask box, i think it's time i go through them properly XD and stop keeping people waiting)

i'm already such a sucker for single parent aus! you're hitting my weak spot here!

goodness! y/n's daughter would be at that age where she's rebellious and had recently found out the truth of the situation - it's a really tense time! and y/n being the amazing mother and person she is, puts her daughter before herself every time

she does it so often and with such loyalty and dedication to her daughter's happiness, her daughter can see the boundless selflessness y/n's displaying is slowly eating away at her - y/n slowly becomes a little depressed but is always putting on a brave face for her daughter and that's when her daughter reaches out to her apologising for how selfish she was being and that she's so grateful for having such an amazing mother. this intimate exchange happens late at night when y/n is stressed and going through work in advance just to calm herself down

daughter: mum?

y/n: yes? what is it sweetheart? *quickly finishes up a not and looks away from work, paying full attention to her daughter with an exhausted smile*

daughter: *silently stares at y/n's tired but loving expression before bursting out crying and apologising profusely* i'm sorry mommy! i'm so s-...*hic* so sorry!

y/n: sweetie?! *panicks and brings daughter into her arms* what's wrong? what happened? talk to me...*gently caresses daughter's cheek, wiping away her tears and with a face full of worry*

daughter: i'm just...i'm so sorry for being so selfish all the time...i-i-! y-you deserve to find someone that really loves you a-and because i can't trust anyone you're-you're...it's just n-no one is good enough f-for you-! b-but you're s-so sad all the time now a-and i can tell! i'm not stupid *takes a shaky breath and buries her teary face into y/n neck* i just love you so much...i'm sorry for being such a horrible daughter

y/n: oh sweetheart...*smiles but tears surfacing* i love you too and you're not horrible...you're my loving daughter and you mean the world to me. please don't ever think of yourself as that; i know you're a very considerate and kind girl...*both begin crying into each other's shoulder* i love you...truly, mommy loves you...my baby

(s-such a sweet mother and daughter moment 🥺)

after this, your daughter puts in more effort to get along with the bakusuad and she instantly falls for Mina - she's been holding back the entire time actually and could finally let herself love mina as another parental figure as well as best friend. this leads to multiple girls nights inside and out. sometimes, you're all indulging in self care, painting each others' nails and putting on face masks while munching on popcorn with your favourite movies playing on in the background. other nights, you all dress up and go to a fancy restaurant or high social event where you treat yourselves like the queens you are!

the boys are jealous but they're just happy that mina was able to make that step with you and your daughter. and bc of that, they know that soon enough it'll be their turn so they wait patiently...at least, bakugou, kirishima and sero do, denki can't take waiting around - he's a do-er not a respectfully-sit-around-er! so he goes in and starts forcing small dates, buying her things and trying to get really close to her but that only make her push him away more (of course). thankfully, each time, denki tries to force any outing or presents onto her, he is stopped by sero who drags him away pitifully. it comes to a point where your daughter has sero's number on speed dial just to keep denki in check. eventually, sero starts bonding with her more than denki.

it's not fair so denki openly protests and sulks until your daughter finally gives in only to have more fun with the duo than she'd like to admit. the outings they take her to are so adventurous and despite it being out of her comfort zone, they take such good care of her and treat her so gently that she can't help but love them for their fun antics and chaos; their kindness and patience.

all this progress makes her begin wondering about bakugou and kirishima. they're both pretty popular and, therefore, busy pro heroes so she can understand them not having the time to bond with her like the others but it does hurt her to know that they aren't putting in as much effort as the others. that same hurt quickly turns into bitterness and spite for the two before the others quickly make all of that disappear

Sero: you know...since i told kirishima you liked that amusement park so much, he rented it out for us to go crazy in this weekend.

daughter: really?! b-but what about the people at the resort that comes with the park? *sero slowly begins to grin toothily as daughter gasps* omg! he booked that too?!

*another time*

denki: y'know bakugou went to your tai kwon do tournament yesterday *laughs* and he gave y/n the day off so they both went to see you. they took lots of pictures too since sero, mina and i couldn't come with patrols and all!

daughter: b-but why didn't he tell me or greet me, even? *in disbelief, whispers to herself* why did i only see mum?...

denki: he said he didn't want to put you in an awkward place, him being the number one hero and all and besides! you were the champion! he wasn't about to take the spotlight away from someone so well deserving of it *wink*

daughter: *blushes and smiles softly* my old man isn't like that at all...

soon enough, she opens her heart to them and now you're all a big and happy family! isn't that fun and happy? ^7^ that is...until she and y/n both find out the entire squad hunted down your horrible ex/her deadbeat dad and sent him to jail for unpaid child support and unlawful use of his quirk. you both found out through the news and through the fancy dinner and weekend beach resort get-away (plus more) they treated you two to, using the same money that disgusting guy owed you ;)

happy happy happy all around!

(please excuse the lack of proofreading and editing, this was basically a mind blurt XD)

#love; dollie #the p.a series imagine #imagine single parent reader #this became longer than it needed to be #gotta add this to the master list

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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Healing Heart ✧ Draco x Reader Mini-Series PART 2

PART 1

Summary: PART 2 ! of Draco falling in love with reader during his sixth year (HBP) and dealing with the consequences of opening his heart to someone.

Warnings: angst !!! but just a little fluff as always, BLOOD, violence, more crying, very detailed sectumsempra scene, mentions of death

Words: 4.9K

A/N: omg i can’t believe so many people liked the first one and to everyone who left me a comment, I appreciate you so much you have no idea plsss you guys are so beautiful. but here is part 2 and I hope you guys like it as much as the first oneee !!!!!!!! this one got dramatic. I’m thinking of doing a part 3, but I’m not sure and i also want to make it be mostly fluff so PLS let me knowww <3 i do not own gif.

It was an awful feeling; the feeling of needing a specific someone to bring him a peace he so very much lacked in his life. It was a feeling of not being able to feel joy unless he had you by his side. He felt stupid and pathetic knowing he had made an even bigger mess of himself and regrettably of you. He felt more weak too, wondering to himself why he couldn’t stop crying and do what he needs to do without several potions or you with him to get him through the day.

He didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to need help. He didn’t want to need advice.

“Why can’t I just do this?” he cried to himself one night in the room of requirement, kicking something by his foot across the floor in frustration. He stared at the dead bird in hopelessness, not wanting to move it from its spot in the vanishing cabinet. He had managed to send inanimate objects, but not living things and that was only a discovery he was able to make when you were still in his life.

It had been weeks, since he left you under the tree, broken and in tears. He regressed back into to his old ways of lacking proper self care, of sleeping and eating, his studies being the last thing on his mind, him distancing himself from his Slytherin friends again. It was right back to square one, maybe even below that this time.

In Potions, he didn’t dare look at you, ever. He moved to a seat in the very back of the class where he would be hidden from you and could sulk to himself in peace.

“Mr. Malfoy, forgive me as it is none of my business, but why are you no longer working with Miss Y/L/N?” Slughorn asked him one day as he came by to grade his potion.

“It is nothing of concern, Professor,” Draco answered bitterly, holding back the scowl that wanted to show but deciding against being any more rude to authority. “I just rather work by myself.”

“It’s a shame, Mr. Malfoy, you both were my star pupils,” Slughorn mixes the potion around, eyeing it with a frown. “Now the both of you are falling behind. This potion is not passing, you forgot to mix in the dried periwinkle leaves.”

Draco never noticed how you would glance at him throughout Potions class. Of course, he was ignoring you and you felt that nasty realization every time your eyes landed on the platinum blond.

You felt numb, to say the least. You cried for days and days on end. If you weren’t in class, you were in your dorm, wrapped underneath the covers wondering why someone you shared so much love and time with had dropped you with no explanation. You tried endlessly to get him to talk to you, cornering him in the corridors, going up to him in class, but he would ignore you until you went away. He never once met your eyes, and your heart broke more every time you saw the coldness in his icy gray’s that made you feel like you didn’t even exist to him.

Your roommates and friends had gotten involved, forcing you to take better care of yourself. Staying up and hugging you while you cried. Bringing you meals from the Great Hall into the dorm. Brushing your hair when it started to become matted. Encouraging you to divulge yourself in studies rather than your sadness.

“Y/N, you are so much more than what you’re feeling,” your closest friend whispered to you one night as you cried in her embrace. “You can’t keep going like this. It’s okay to cry and be sad, but this is eating you up. Remember how strong you are. Remember the healer you are trying to be. You’ve helped so many people, inside and out, let your friends help you now.”

You nodded sadly, and finally accepted the help your friends had been trying so desperately to give you. You allowed them to take you out into the Great Hall again for meals. To Hogsmead for a fun day out. To the courtyard where you guys would sit and just talk. It was nice, feeling your old and normal life coming to light again even if it was just for a couple hours. But when you couldn’t sleep at night and your mind wandered off to Draco, you felt that same empty feeling of a gaping hole in your heart sting at you.

There was nothing you could do or say anymore. The cornering him was getting desperate and made you feel weak. The ignoring was never going to stop. You didn’t cry anymore, forcing yourself to bottle up your feelings for him deep down into your mind, body and spirit to the point where you just tried your best to recognize him as a dream.

Your brain didn’t know any better, right?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Draco sat on the floor of his dorm, head resting against the side of his bed as he twiddled with the letter from his mother between his fingertips. His owl, Aquila, sat beside him and enjoyed the loving pets he was giving her with his other hand. It was rare she let him do this, but he figured it was because she felt that he might have possibly needed this. She nibbled on a crumb of a biscuit he gave her that she had brought with her on her journey from home. Draco sighed and opened the letter again, his eyes scanning over the perfect cursive of his mother’s handwriting once more.

My Dearest Draco,

How are you, my love? I feel as though we have gone too long without writing to each other. I must say, the Manor feels lonely without you and your father here, but the house elves have been keeping me company. They are quite entertaining, some of them. I do hope you enjoy the small pastries I sent with Aquila that the elves also send on their behalf.

I know the pain you are feeling, my son. I know it wears at you and I am deeply sorry that I cannot change it or help you. Please do entrust in Professor Snape, as he is the only one who can help you and understands your circumstances. You cannot get through this alone.

Please also remember that you are just a boy. In these times of turmoil, it is easy to lose yourself in your own despair. You are young, Draco, only 16 years of life and it has already failed you. Please find it in your heart to locate the little several joys in life that keep you going. Despite your situation, It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there. Do not succumb, it is what he wants.

I will always love you, and I hope to see you soon.

All my love,

Mother

He felt tears sting at his eyes, clutching the letter to his chest as if his mother had charmed it with the feeling of a hug. It wasn’t, but he swore he could feel it. He felt sad, knowing she was all alone in that house, but suddenly remembered that his aunt was seeking refuge with her at the Malfoy Manor and his mother left it out for the sake of keeping Bellatrix’s location secret. Seeing as she was a maddened Ex/Present Death Eater and escaped prisoner on the run. The thought of Bellatrix left a bitter and foul taste in his mouth, making him feel even worse that his mother was stuck at home with that beast who was nearly as bad as the Dark Lord himself. He didn’t care that that was her sister, his aunt, she had no empathy for anything, especially not for him. He recalls her telling him right before he went to school, that he should be grateful and honored for being entrusted with a task so important.

As much as Draco wanted nothing to do with his tasks, he didn’t ignore them. He begrudgingly let Bellatrix teach him Occlumency, something he desperately needed to learn and was now a little good at. He had even tried convincing himself that he needed to do this. It was all up to him. He was chosen for this. He hated it, but he was chosen nonetheless. And he would try with everything to save his family and to make them proud, even if it killed him.

He ignored the thoughts of his aunt and his dreadful life options, refocusing on the words his mother wrote to him. They echoed in his mind, imagining her saying them to him.

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

His mind wandered to you, knowing full and well you were are the one and only joy in his life he so deeply desires. His mother’s words hit him hard, to the point where he almost ran out of his room to go look for you. Almost.

But he was stubborn and still couldn’t pull himself out of the mindset he had boxed himself in where he thought being with you would be worse in the end for you than not being with you.

So he went over to his desk, Aquila following him before flying up to the wooden surface where she perched herself in front of him as he sat down and pulled out a parchment and quill to begin his responding letter for his mother. He thanked her for the pastries, told her he would try his best in confiding in Snape, loosely promised he would fulfill her wishes of him finding some happiness, and gave her his love. He gave the letter to Aquila, smoothing the feathers on the top of her head one last time before she chirped and flew to the window and then out of his room and into the open dark starry sky.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

More weeks had gone by. And then a month. You were seeing less and less of Draco and for a healing heart, it was the best thing for you, but also the worst. He had even began skipping class as much as he could, not that anyone ever noticed, except you and Slughorn of course.

“Miss Y/L/N, may I have a word?” Slughorn came up to you while you were working on a potion with your friend. The same friend who had given up her seat to Draco who she now despised and regretted ever doing in the first place. She gave you and the professor a look before getting up and heading to the front of the class where she began to pick up vials and jars to store the potion.

“Of course, Professor,” you answer with a polite smile.

“I spoke to Mr. Malfoy about a month ago, he seemed rather distraught,” he began, placing a finger over his chin in thought. “I’m beginning to grow worried of the boy! Is there a reason he’s no longer showing up to class?”

You swallowed thickly before responding, “your guess is as good as mine, Professor.”

“Ah, well, one mustn’t pry too much,” he says. “Also, I’m pleased to see your marks improving in the last couple weeks. Keep up the good work, Miss Y/L/N.”

And with that the professor turned around and left to go check on other students, your friend returning.

“What’d he want?” She asked, setting the supplies down on the table.

“Wanted to know about, Mr. Malfoy,” you mocked quietly, your voice turning bitter when the name left your lips.

You knew Draco’s disappearance was your fault and you felt that twang of hurt beat against your chest thinking about it. That whole conversation with the Professor killed your entire mood. It wasn’t great to begin with, but the feeling of nothing had turned into hurt.

You were roughly stirring the cauldron, preparing to put the nearly finished potion into the two large jars so it could sit overnight. They were right beside your arm and you felt your elbow collide with the glasses, cringing internally when you heard them crash onto the ground and shatter. Luckily there was nothing in them, but you had still made a mess of glass. In your heat of embarrassment and with the people are you now staring at you, you forgot you could easily clean up your mess with magic so like a klutz, you instead bent down to pick up the shards of glass that scattered the floor with your bare hands.

A loud gasp left your mouth as you began to pick them up, feeling the largest piece of glass in your palm deeply slash the skin of your hand. You dropped it, feeling the blood begin to drip down your arms and onto the floor.

“Oh no, Y/N,” your friend sighed from above you, gripping onto your other arm and lifting you up. “Are you okay?”

The question was meant for your hand, but you felt it hit your soul just as it did whenever someone asked you that question when you were so overwhelmingly not okay. You shook your head no, the pain from your hand and your heart taking over you completely as tears began to trickle down your face.

Slughorn came up to the table, waving his wand over the mess of the floor and fixed the damage done to the vases and making the small puddle of blood disappear.

“Class is dismissed, students, you are free to go to the Great Hall for lunch,” Slughorn announced and everyone quickly packed up their things and hurried out except for you and your friend. The full-bellied Professor watched you with concern and you turned to your friend where she took your hand in hers and placed it palm up for you.

You shuddered, bringing up your wand to the cut and simply thought your healing spell before watching it completely fade into a faint light pink scar.

“I’m going to explain to Slughorn what happened and put away our stuff,” she says to you, a sad glint in her eyes. “Go clean yourself up and I’ll meet you at our table for lunch with everyone when you’re done.”

You could only pathetically nod before you slung your bag over your shoulder and trudged off into the direction of a bathroom. You decided to go up to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, wanting to be alone from everyone so you could clean yourself up in peace and also have a meltdown. You didn’t know why you wanted to torture yourself with the ghosted memories you shared with Draco in that bathroom, but you still went.

You took your time getting there and you were only down the hall when you saw the entrance. It was then when you heard a familiar ghastly screaming and wailing. It was horribly loud.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!”

Moaning Myrtle floated from the large wooden double doors, screaming so loud it ricocheted off all the walls of the now deathly silent castle. You felt all the blood drain from your face as an awful and sickening feeling had bubbled in your stomach.

“It better not be Draco,” you said to yourself, your legs taking longer strides towards the bathroom. “Please, don’t let it be Draco.”

By now, you were sprinting towards the end of the corridor, throwing your bag to the floor as soon as you reached the doors and flung yourself through and into the destroyed bathroom, stepping into a pool of water that had streaks of crimson red. Your eyes followed the trail of blood, stopping suddenly when you found the source.

A blood-curdling scream twice as loud and stronger than Myrtle’s, left your throat as you tripped over your own feet to reach him. You saw Harry Potter, standing a little ways by the door, a panicked and pained look in his eyes as he tried to understand what he had just done.

Once you reached Draco’s nearly lifeless body covered in angry red gashes, you fell next to him, his eyes finally meeting yours for the first time in ages. He was breathing raggedly in choked grunts, clutching at his mauled chest as he struggled to breath. The stormy eyes you loved so much were clouded in fear. Nothing but fear.

You shoved your hand into your pocket, searching for your wand and pulled it out hastily. You shakily waved it over his cuts, thinking and saying any spell you knew that came to your mind in the matter of 5 seconds. This was what you did. This was all you did. Why couldn’t you heal him? None of your spells worked.

“I, I can’t heal you,” you sobbed, resorting to putting your hands over his chest at a failing attempt to stop the bleeding. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“n...o,” Draco said weakly and quietly. He mustered up all his remaining strength and placed a bloodied hand over yours, you grabbed it tightly and leaned over him when you realized he was trying to speak. “S-sorry. lo...ve. y...ou.”

It felt like there was a knife in your chest being repeatedly stabbed into your heart and twisted. His eyes closed and you cried harder, knowing you were going to lose him. Everything was happening so fast. You had only been in the bathroom a solid 10 seconds, everything around you moving in a slow blur but so quickly.

It was as if Merlin had answered your pleas, the sound of the door slammed open and a maddened looking Snape rushed inside, pushing Harry roughly to the side and looking down at Draco and then you only momentarily before dropping to his knees beside him and opposite of you.

“Vulnera sanentur,” he began running his wand over the cuts on Draco’s chest and you watched with wide teary eyes as the blood pooling around you began to retreat back into the wounds. He said it again, and once the blood was back in, the cuts began to close. He chanted it one last time, and the cuts had healed into thick and reddened scars. “Miss Y/L/N, please help Draco over to the hospital wing for some dittany, and quickly please. We might be able to help with the scarring, perhaps avoid it completely. I need to deal with, Potter.”

Draco was half conscious, a dazed and confused look in the gray of his eyes as they fluttered open and closed. You noticed the scar beginning to form on his paled face and you bit back a sob. You knew if that scar stayed there, it would only drive him into a deeper hatred for himself.

You quickly got up, Snape picking up Draco and throwing his arm over your shoulders so that you would be able to help him over to the hospital wing which luckily happened to be a hall away from the bathroom. The adrenaline and sheer love for the boy was pumping through your body which had made you feel stronger in basically carrying Draco through the halls. He was dragging his feet, mumbling incoherently and you couldn’t stop crying.

You saw the doors to the hospital wing open, Madam Pomfrey staring at the scene heading towards her in horror.

“DITTANY!” you called to her. She threw open the doors wider, nodding before she ran back inside in a hurry. A passing seventh year Hufflepuff had dropped all of his books and his bag and linked arms with Draco’s free side, helping you take him inside with much more ease. Madam Pomfrey yelled to rest Draco on the nearest bed and she quickly returned with the dittany, shooing the both of you away from him.

“I’m afraid the two of you are going to have to leave, immediately,” she demands, her hand reaching up to grab the privacy curtain before shielding her and the love of your life from you and the prying eyes of shocked students gathered at the doorway to see what had happened. The Hufflepuff that had helped was already out the door, but you couldn’t bring your legs to move.

“Away from the door!” McGonagall suddenly appeared from behind the crowd of students, a disgruntled look etched into her aged skin. “Return to your house’s common rooms! That goes for you too, Miss Y/L/N.”

She gently placed both her hands on either of your shoulders, guiding you outside the door and out of the hospital wing. She gave you an empathetic glance before grabbing the handles of the doors and shutting them with a loud clang.

The lingering students stared at you in discomfort and grimaces. You looked around, still in a daze and then looked down at your body. You were drenched in blood and water, looking straight out of a horror movie and closely resembling the clothing of the Bloody Baron, Slytherin’s house ghost.

Everything still felt quiet and slow. You didn’t even notice your friends rushing towards you in hysterics, throwing you in hugs as you only stood there, unable to react. You let them pull you away, leading you to your house’s common room, tripping every now and then. You caught a glimpse of Moaning Myrtle in the distance, her cries still very loud and apparent. She had gone around the entirety of Hogwarts wailing the same news that had broken you, only this time you heard the new choice words she had added along the way.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER! HARRY POTTER HAS MURDERED DRACO MALFOY!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You sat immobile on the edge of your seat besides Draco’s hospital bed. Much to your surprise, Madam Pomfrey had allowed you to stay overnight with the fallen Slytherin Prince. You recognized it might be her way of paying you back from all your countless volunteering and because of that, she trusted you in knowing exactly what to do when it came to the medical field of the wizarding world.

It was around three in the morning, the incident having happened well past twelve hours ago. You were showered now and in a fresh pair of robes, your pajamas holding in your warmth as a cold draft flowed throughout the dark dimly lit room. The hospital wing was tall and large, it felt like a castle in itself, and it only made you feel more feeble. You scooted your chair closer to the bed, placing a hand onto the mattress right next to Draco’s paled slender hand.

Fingertips ghosted over his knuckles, your body shivering at the closeness of the near contact. You didn’t know how he was going to react when he woke up. It was all a waiting game, and your heart squeezed with anxiety as you awaited his regained consciousness. You didn’t forget the words he said to you right before he slipped away. They rang and rattled in your head like a pinball game on loop.

He had told you he loved you.

The thought of him dying and you never being able to tell him you felt the same haunted you. You thanked Merlin that Snape got there when he did. You also made a mental note to hex Harry into the oblivion the next time you got a chance.

You sighed deeply, your voice quavering as your ran a hand through your tangled hair. His face glistened under the orange lamp on the bedside table, his skin tinged with a grayish undertone and his eye bags deep and dark. The scar you had seen on his face earlier was gone, the skin now just holding a skinny reddened line going across his features as if he was just hit with something. You smiled slightly, knowing it would be gone in the morning and feeling grateful for him that he wouldn’t be scarred with it.

His body was covered in a hospital gown and bandages infused with dittany, but seeing how bad his cuts were before they healed, you knew those would leave something behind no matter what. In your studying towards becoming a Healer, you read about the effects of dark magic and the marks it left behind on its victims. You didn’t know what spell had done what it did to Draco, but it was violent and radiated with darkness.

The softness of his his skin was met under yours, your hand finally allowing itself to fall over his and you let out a sharp exhale at the touch. It wasn’t like earlier when you were holding onto him for dear life, rough and filled with fear and pain, this time it felt familiar. It felt warm despite the coldness of your skin and his. You shook quietly, another set of tears rippling through your body as you tried your best to not wake him. You sat up and slowly leaned over him, looking down at him to observe his peaceful features. He slept soundly and peacefully, his breathing even and quiet. Even though he almost died earlier today, he looked as though he was having the best sleep of his life. The sleep he gravely needed but seemed to never be able to get.

Your free hand softly rested on his cheek now and you carefully moved your lips towards his forehead where you placed a long kiss. A stray tear had fallen onto his skin as you pulled away and you frowned, wiping it away with your sleeve before moving your hand up towards his hair. You smoothed it back, the soft blond strands feeling like silk between your fingers. He was a dream, an angel to you. You stood by what you had told him that unfortunate day under the tree, he was good, and you would tell him again and again until he believed it himself.

Just as you pulled back from him, a sharp gasp erupted and he shot up in bed, grabbing and tearing at his gown as breathless quick pants fell from his lips.

“Hey, Draco, I’m here, you’re okay, relax,” you coo gently, grabbing his hands and holding them tightly in yours so he wouldn’t tear his bandages. Your heart battered against your chest, the waterworks in your eyes beginning all over again. He stared at you, searching your eyes and he began to cry too. The same broken and deep sobbing from months ago you had grown accustomed to hearing.

He threw himself onto you, crying even harder as his arms wrapped around you, his hand on the back of your head pressing you into his chest. You climbed into the bed in deep shaky breaths so that you were now sitting on your knees between his legs. It was overwhelming, to put it lightly, both of you crying into each other as you remembered the fall out, the lonely days and nights, the wasted opportunities, the endless missing of one another’s presence in their lives.

“I’m sorry,” Draco chokes out. “I never meant to hurt you. I thought that by pushing you away, you would be safer, but I can’t do it anymore. I need you, I love you, Y/N.”

You cradled him in your arms, rocking the two of you back and forth, and you shook your head reverently.

“I forgave you the second I thought I was going to lose you,” you respond quickly. “Merlin, Draco, you scared me to death. I thought you were gone.”

The same words from his mother echoed in his head again and he finally understood what they meant.

“It is okay to be that 16 year old boy and revel in those joys for as long as you can before it is too late and they are no longer there.”

Darkness was going to arrive one way or another, it was going to steal the rest of whatever life he had left in him one day. It was out of his hands, out of his control. The time to live his life was now. Because he didn’t know when he would ever have this opportunity of love again, of safety, of light. Everything was undefined and unknown and he felt the anguishing regret of all his decisions when he had seen you in the bathroom hovering over him with a hopeless look in your eyes. He promised himself, to Merlin and to the sun, the moon and all the stars that in the 1% chance that he survived that close call with death, he would never abandon you again. His heart pained at the memory of him trying to sputter out his final ‘I love you,’ not knowing whether or not you heard it or if you understood how genuinely he had meant it.

The room was only filled with sniffles and shaky breathing, both of you still in the same rocking position, afraid that if you let each other go, the other is going to disappear.

“Draco,” you say, lifting his head up from the crook of your neck so that he could look you in the eyes. “I love you, too. More than you’ll ever know. Please don’t ever, ever leave again.”

“Not in a million years, darling.”

PART 3

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cunningambitousdetermined · 3 years

Text

The Plan (Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader)

title: the plan

pairing: natasha romanoff x f!reader

warnings: mild swearing, mentions of homophobia, FLUFF with a dash of angst

summary: Y/N has been in love with Natasha Romanoff for a VERY long time and honestly, Tony is getting sick of watching it. Natasha has been in love with Y/N since the very first day and Steve can’t take the assassins obliviousness anymore. Steve and Tony, reluctantly of course, team up to make the pair notice how perfect they are for each other. (OH SHOOT IM SORRY I SUCK AT SUMMARIES WOW)

requested by @iamninaanna:

Hey Sunshine, I love your writing, so I'm here to request something :)

Can I please request a Natasha Romanoff × reader, where the Avengers are playing truth or dare, and somebody challenges Natasha to kiss the reader, or something like that, and then they confess their feelings to one another. I was having something in mind, I hope it's not to specific, that like Natasha rambles about the reader to Steve A LOT, and he's so sick of it, he has to do something about it, while it's the same situation with reader, just that she's talking to hers best friend, which can be any of the Avengers, you decide, and then Steve and the reader's best friend make a plan together, and well, you know the rest <3

Okay, that was a lot, but I'm really excited😊 Thank you if you write it!!

a/n (i think that's what i put when i’m responding, if i screwed it up please let me know, it would be much appreciated) :

hi taja! thank you so much, this is the first time someone has requested something and im really excited. but also terrified. more terrified. reader is a girl but if someone wants me to rewrite this as gender neutral, i can. hope i do it justice and if your reading this, thank you for reading. if anyone has any feedback, it’s always welcome. okay here i go!!

the story:

Y/N Y/L/N flopped backward on to Tony Stark’s bed, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a angry scream into the unsuspecting piece of cloth and feathers.

“Woah kid, what’d the pillow do to you?” Tony joked, his eyes still trained on whatever new gizmo he was working on, chuckling at his best friends antics.

“It’s fucking Natasha” Y/N mumbled quietly into the pillow, her voice muddled by the soft white sheets that she buried her head farther in. Tony was silent, the only sounds was the clinking of the Tony’s robots and tools working, so she assumed he hadn’t heard her. Not that she wanted him too anyway.

Y/N was in love with Natasha Romanoff. Head over heels, fully in love with the assassin that she’d worked closely with for the past years. To describe how Y/N felt about Natasha in words would never to how she really felt in justice. Natasha was a tall glass of Coke: Orange Vanilla. Rare, unsuspectingly sweet, and utterly addicting. Her red hair, the black bodysuit, the way she fought, she could take down 10 men on her own, with her bare hands. She was sweet- always sharing her secret candy stashes with Y/N- smart -helping Y/N out when she was still taking classes.

Sometimes Y/N really thought Natasha felt the same way, then she flirted with a guy here and hot girl there and the idea fled from her brain. Y/N had never seen Natasha have an inclination toward women, she flirted with every living thing. Y/N liked to think it was a coping with feelings for someone and that's why she was so flirty but in reality, Y/N knew there was no way she felt near the same way. She was an extra to the Avengers. And besides, no one even knew she liked girls.

“It’s what, darling?” Tony had moved and was now sitting in front of Y/N, spinning around in his chair like a little kid in their dad’s office.

Y/N wanted to tell him how in love she was with Natasha, she wanted to tell him all the little things she noticed, all the little things she loved. But she couldn’t. How would Tony take it? Tony might take it okay, but the team? Steve? Bucky? They were from the 40′s, women didn’t love other women openly back then, did they still think it was... unnatural? She didn’t think she could deal with being any more of an outcast. Did Natasha like girls? The thoughts were drowning her slowly, cutting off her air supply, the last bit of air building up into a scream that she would never let out.

Tony coughed and Y/N realized she’d been silent for too long. “Tony....” she took a deep breath in, “I- uh-...,” Tony raised an eyebrow, waiting for to go on. Y/N coughed clearing nothing from her throat, elongating the silence before she just spit the words out like hot fire. “I’minlovewithNatashaandIdontknowwhattodo?”

“You’re what?” Tony asked, having caught nothing of that sentence, something about Natasha but honestly he was still lost.

Y/N felt a little better and slowed herself down. She trained her eyes on a seam in the comforter and whispered, “I’m in love with Natasha and I don’t know what to do”

There was a silence and Y/N could feel it smothering her, pulling her into the water, dunking her head under, she was drowning and, and and- Tony erupted in laughter. Y/N’s head shot up and she stared at him, color drained from her face. Tony rocked back and forth but when he came up again, he caught the absolute terror on her face and his smile dropped.

“Y/N?” he asked softy, he stood up, plopping on the bed next to her, “Babe?” Tony tried to catch her eye, ducking his head but she turned away. He grabbed her chin in his large hands, “Babe, I wasn’t laughing at you. God, I’m such an idiot.” he blew out a harsh breath, “I was laughing because I already knew, not because you are in love with her.” Tony felt her face relax and he turned her chin to meet his eye.

“You knew?” Y/N asked softly, tears still gathered in her eyes. Tony’s eyes softened as he saw the tears and he used the pads of his thumb to wipe them away.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I don’t care if you like women. I’ve known you had some sort of feelings for Natasha for a while, you can see it when you look at her. I was just waiting for you to tell me.” Y/N laughed at this now and threw her arms around Tony, who wrapped her up in a hug. “Now, tell me more about Natasha and this ‘love’” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.

“STEVEEEE” Natasha groans, letting down her normal assassins façade.

“Mmm” Steve hummed in reply, motioning for her to come in to his room. She smiled and darted to the spinning chair in the corner, propping her feet up on the desk. It was silent for a little bit, the pair just enjoying each others company when Natasha spun her chair around and broke the silence.

“Do you think Y/N likes women?” Steve already knew the Natasha liked women and he was totally cool with it. Nat has been surprised when he had been super supportive but was very grateful for all the love and reassurance he’d given her.

“Nat,” Steve sighed dramatically, “She can’t NOT know your in love with her, unless she’s totally oblivious which she may be...” He turned to face her, jumping on his bed to be closer to her, “You should just tell her”

“But...” Nat frowned, “what if she doesn’t like women? And I creep her out? And..” She stopped as she felt Steve lay a hand on her shoulder.

“How could she not like you?” he questioned, “And trust me, it’s quite obvious how she feels.”

“HOW SHE FEELS?!” Nat practically screamed, so unlike her that Steve leaned back. She cleared her throat, “Sorry- she feels...?”

“She’s in love with you, obviously”

Nat grabbed a pillow from the bed and screamed into it, then looked at Steve, wary, “Really? Y/N with her...” Steve tuned out the rest of what Nat said, he’d heard it all before. Too many times. Nat sighed, in a happy way that Steve had never heard from her before, “Y/N...”

Steve knew that this had to end, Natasha and Y/N pretending they weren’t head over heels for each other. He’d heard enough of Nat’s wistful rants, it was so unlike her, it was starting to worry him. If he was correct in his guess, Tony was feeling the same way. So, despite Tony being, well, Tony, Steve sought him out to solve the mess.

“Truth or dare, old man?” Clint smirked at Tony, all the avengers had settled for a night in and decided to play truth or dare. Y/N had rolled her eyes at this, they were too old for it, but settled in next to Tony anyway.

“Dare, obviously” Tony rolled his eyes at Clint, eagerly awaiting his fate.

“I dare you to stand on top of the tower and sing at least 30 seconds of ‘Rich Girl’ by Gwen Stefani and livestream it.” Tony laughed at this and stood up. 10 minutes and one livestream later, all of them were laughing harder then they had in a long time.

“Okay, okay, my turn to ask,” Tony smiled, “Natasha, truth or dare?” Steve couldn’t help the smile that overtook his face, the plan was in motion.

“Dare...” Natasha didn’t let her voice waver, her signature smirk on her face.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N”

The whole room fell silent. Y/N’s face flamed and her eyes filled with tears. Was this a joke? Tony knew how she felt. How could he? The eyes in the room were on Nat and her but she ignored them as she got up and ran out of the room. Tony’s eyes widened as Y/N darted through the door.

“Nice going, Tony. You upset her.” Natasha’s glared at Tony, angry. But inside she couldn’t help but wonder if she ran because she didn’t want to kiss her. Maybe she hated the idea. Maybe she didn’t like women after all. Nat got up, she had to face this. “I’ll go get her” She dragged her hand over her face and got up. Tony and Steve exchanged a glance as she left, hopefully this wouldn’t blow up in their faces

“Y/N!” Nat yelled down the hall, “It’s me, I’m sorry Tony was a jerk. Can we talk?”

Y/N heard Natasha’s voice and faltered, she had to face this at some point. She took a deep breath, letting the cool confidence she had on missions fill her.

“Yeah, I’m here Nat” She called back and within seconds Nat ran around the corner. Nat’s eyes softened as they looked into Y/N’s beautiful eyes, still just as mesmerizing, puffy and red. Nat took an unconscious step forward, her thumbs caressing the hidden tear streaks. Y/N’s breath caught, her heart flipping at Nat’s touch. Before she could think about it, Y/N leaned up and let her lips meet Nat’s. Nat responded immediately, pulling Y/N to her, wrapping her arms around her, teeth tugging at her bottom lip. Y/N groaned into the kiss, letting her fingers card through Nat’s hair. They pulled away after a minute, smiling like idiots. Y/N looked down slowly before glancing back up shyly at Nat.

“Um... I really like you Nat” She whispered, with a smile

“I really like you too Y/N” Nat chuckled, pulling her in again for a sweet, soft kiss. It said everything they hadn’t said. All the nights of longing, the confusion and the love.

Tony, Steve and the rest of the team watched from the security room, smiling and high fiving at the happy couple.

AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKED IT!! feedback is always appreciated!!

tagging: @iamninaanna (to be tagged when i write something just drop me an ask)

#natasha romanoff x reader #wlw fanfic #marvel #avengers x reader #tony x platonic!reader #steve x platonic!natasha #pining #fluff #hint of angst #marvel fanfic #my writing

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

Text

Murder, He Wrote

Part 4 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: Ransom shows you a softer side, but when the table flips he leaves you with no doubt that he’s still just as dangerous as he has always been…

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 4 to our submission for @jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. My writing partner @southerngracela is currently on an indefinite hiatus from Tumblr, and I’ve sadly no idea when she will be back. However, this chapter was pretty much finished before she took her break and the rest of the series is also planned out to finish, so as per her blessing before she took time out, I’m intending on finishing what we started.

READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 3

True to his word, Ransom had let you spend the day with him after Blanc's visit. It was a day interestingly enough your mind wandered back to, if not for the change in scenery, but for the change in his demeanour. A couple of weeks had since passed from then, but the memory was burned in your brain. And since, you'd spent far more than just a day above the confines of your room. Almost every morning since he’d ‘allowed’ you to make breakfast and most mornings, unless he was heading out to wherever he went, he then let you stay upstairs with him whilst he plugged away at the book he was writing. That in and of itself had come as a shock to you, to learn he was an aspiring author for sure, but you had simply nodded and encouraged him when he had told you. And you had quickly realised that when he was busy writing, you could get busy reading one of the many books or writing in your journal while sat in the large study and he left you pretty much alone.

Which is where you were currently sat now, curled up on the leather sofa as he sat at his desk, tapping away at his laptop, your journal open in your lap and a leather bound copy of ‘Great Expectations’ lay next to you, the page marked waiting for you to pick up from where you had left off the previous evening. As you thumbed the pages of your journal to find the next blank page, you had to smile at the little doodle of a Christmas tree that caught your eye in the top right hand corner of a page you’d written a few days back, the day you’d convinced Ransom that he should at least get one Christmas Tree. He’d obliged, had one; only the one, delivered and permitted you to decorate it how you’d wanted to and even managed a little smile when you stepped back and proudly showed the finished product to him. Then, of course, quid-pro-quo, he had had expected something in return which you’d given, because let’s face it, he’d have taken it anyway.

You’d seen a softer side to him that day, and not for the first time either. Granted, non-asshole Ransom wasn’t an everyday feature by any stretch of the imagination, but you’d seen it twice now. You paused, and then thumbed back a few pages to the day you were now remembering, the day you’d first been confronted with a very different Ransom to the one you were used to dealing with. One that came out of nowhere.

It was a wet day, an early winter storm passing through New England. You were sure it could have snowed but instead, it was just wet and cold. He'd come down with breakfast, instead of inviting you up. He'd brought you warm oatmeal with cream and cinnamon, a small bowl of blueberries on the side and a pinch dish of raisins, having forgotten how you took your oatmeal. A cup of coffee, steaming on the tray. He'd set up your breakfast on the table and sat across from you, not eating. He hadn't even brought coffee for himself.

You'd assessed his mood as morose, distant even. You didn't press, but rather waited for him to out himself and his particular mood. You'd come to recognize when he was thinking and this morning, he was all thought and no presence.

"I'll be gone most of the day," he finally came clean, just as you'd finished your oatmeal.

"Okay," you replied. He hadn't ever really announced his plans to you before. He'd just come and go at all times as he'd liked, never leaving you home alone without the doors locked. This willingness to let you in on his plans for the day fielded a small red flag in your mind and if you were honest with yourself, you felt like this was a test. He said nothing else, just picked up your breakfast dishes and left.

In the time he was gone, you'd managed to shower, nap, write and read. You were growing hungry for dinner, having had to skip lunch in his absence. Then you heard it, the tell-tale signs of his return. The clicks of doors and sounds of boots on the floor above you. The jingle of keys, and a few failed attempts at unlocking your door. A 'fuck' and a 'God damn it' before the door opened and there he stood. Soaked to the bone, dressed in all black from his coat to his toes. Was that ice on the tips of his hair? Was he drunk or just having a moment? Fingers frozen from the cold.

'Jesus Christ, you're soaked.' You said as you took him in. His lips looked a little discolored, his skin more alabaster than ivory. Throwing caution to the wind, you grabbed your throw from the chair as you passed it by. 'Get that coat off,' you pulled at its thick woolen collar. The heavy fabric peeled away from his broad shoulders and you let it fall to the floor. You heaved the throw over him and pulled it closed around his thick chest. 'You're not getting sick and leaving me here to rot.'

You moved to give him some space and guide himself further into the room, but ice cold fingers wrapped around your wrist and you stopped dead in your tracks. Your eyes moved upwards from where his hand swallowed you're wrist, along the wet fabric of his black sweater, water droplet covered neck, to eyes that were lost and distant, just as they were that morning, but much worse.

You were nearly as frozen as his fingers were, not sure what to say or do. Worried about consequence. So you just stared back.

'Thank you', it was barely audible as the words poured from his lips.

'Of course.' You weren't sure what he was thankful for but you replied anyway. Cautiously, you continued, 'Will you come sit down? Do you want something warm to drink?' You wanted to ask where he'd been but that was a slippery slope.

'Not here,' he replied.

'Upstairs then, in the lounge,' you suggested. He nodded and turned on his heel, a glance over his shoulder to see if you were coming. You followed, pulling your cardigan around you tightly as the chill from the basement filtered through you, or was it coming away from him, you weren't sure.

You'd thought the lounge was where you were headed but instead, he'd headed for the kitchen, taking a seat at the table there. When he didn't provide instruction or conversation, you inhaled deeply and thought of something to warm you both from the inside-out. You felt his eyes on you as you gathered the ingredients you needed, cocoa, chocolate chips, milk. The cinnamon sticks from the cupboard. You were careful not to make too much of a clatter as you pulled the sauce pan from under the counter.

In minutes, fresh hot chocolate was in two steaming mugs with whipped cream and freshly grated cinnamon. You handed him a mug and then sat across from him, your mug between your fingers. You watched as he sipped from his mug, blowing a little on the liquid before his lips touched it. His eyes closed as if he was stuck in a memory, his expression softening.

His eyes opened and he sighed, 'I can't remember the last time I had something like this. I was just a kid, my nana was still alive. It amazes me how they turned out from the two of them.'

'Money changes people,' you commented. You assumed 'they' meant his family, or at least more specifically, his mother and her two brothers, one of which had been gone for years.

He scoffed, 'fuck my family.'

Throwing caution to the wind, you asked, 'is that where you were?' You couldn't have guessed, given he was usually extremely angry and frustrated when he'd spent time with anyone in the Thrombey-Drysdale family tree.

He frowned and nodded.

'What happened?' You couldn't resist.

'Harlan's memorial.'

'Oh' . You said unable to think of anything else to respond with, because really what else could you say. He’d attended a memorial for the grandfather that would still be alive had it not been for him.

'Oh, indeed,' he mused, long fingers flexing around the mug. 'Surely, you’ve figured out I wasn’t particularly welcome.'

You couldn't say more, he wasn't wrong. You bit the inside of your lip and swallowed hard. He needed comfort. But would you give it to him? Was he deserving of that? Hell no, but your heart ached for him a little. It couldn't have been easy. But maybe this was his punishment for avoiding the ultimate consequence.

'Go on, say it.'

'Say what?'

'That I deserve it.' He looked at you, 'I know that’s what you’re thinking.' He leaned back, 'maybe you’re right.'

Well, that threw you. 'I don't know what I'm thinking, to be honest.' You leaned forward, intending to slip the mug from his hands and take them in yours, but you caught yourself and stopped. That was a step that you weren’t quite ready for, or willing as might be more accurate, to take. 'But, I can tell you're hurting and despite what happened, how it happened, you deserve to say goodbye without the rage and selfishness that got you here.'

'Well,' he leaned back and took another sip from his mug, 'that’s certainly not what they thought. Meg assured me I'm still the stuck up prick without my trust fund.'

A small smirk played over your lips, barely noticeable, 'fuck your family.'

'Careful, Sweetheart,' he smirked, but there was no threat in his words, not this time. He was genuinely amused.

You managed a slight shrug, 'If there’s one thing I learned from writing about you and your ridiculously entitled family tree, it's that each and every one of you is all about everyone for themselves.' You took a deep breath, waiting for the repercussions to fall. 'What happened, happened. Now, this is what you have, so own it.'

You flinched a little as his hand reached to scrub at his clean shaven chin, finger tracing his bottom lip as he studied you for a second before he took a deep breath and reached back for his mug. 'I think you need to make this for me more often.' He stated simply, and just like that, the deep foray into his emotions and psyche was over, and the barriers were closed once more.

'Sure.' You nodded. 'Whatever you want.'

At that he gave a little scoff. 'Sure, whatever I want.'

Silence filled the room again, your mind not sure what to make of that last comment, and his was clearly working overtime, you could tell by the way his eyes were still glazed as he simply stared down at the mug in his hand. The rest of the time you sat by the table was quiet, and you were surprised to find yourself a little disappointed. This was the first real meaningful conversation you’d had with him since arriving here. Sure you’d talked, but never once had you got any insight into what exactly made him tick. You’d learned more in the last ten minutes or so than you had in the entire six weeks you’d been his captive.

His captive.

The words echoed in your mind and you swallowed as you remembered exactly what it was you were doing here. This wasn’t by choice, this man wasn’t your friend or your lover, he was your captor, keeping you for his own entertainment, which he was no doubt going to be seeking from you again tonight.

'I think I need a shower,' he leaned forward, disturbing your thoughts.

'Okay,' You replied. 'I'll, uh, well you know where to find me when you're ready for me. Anything in particular you'd like me to wear tonight?'

'No, not tonight,' he answered with assurance, his voice carrying a low yet soft tone. 'You can go read or whatever it is you do when I'm gone.' You blinked, temporarily dumfounded and he looked at you, snorting a little. 'What? You want me to come and have my way with you?'

'Is that a trick question?' You blurted out before you could stop yourself, before you swallowed and waited for the admonishing, but it never came. Instead he chuckled and shook his head.

'Didn’t think so.' With that he rose from his chair, reaching for your empty mug as he passed. His fingers lightly brushed yours and you were jolted by the sudden sparks that flew up your arm and you took a little breath as he passed, depositing your mugs in the sink. Without another word he breezed from the kitchen for the first time, leaving you alone in the room.

It left you perplexed. Completely and utterly perplexed. He never left you alone, even the weeks on your cycle he’d found other ways for you to satisfy him, with your mouth or your hand for instance, but tonight…

Taking a deep breath, you headed back to your room. You didn’t even look at the main door to the house, there was no point. It was always locked and you knew what the consequences would be if you left. Besides, you wouldn’t get far. Not to mention you had no idea where you actually where and the thought of being outside alone in the dark, frankly scared you to death. No, you were better here. At least you knew it was warm, and familiar.

You headed down the stairs and got ready for bed. You settled in with your book, and after a while your ears pricked up as you heard footsteps outside your room. You swallowed, clearly he had changed his mind. But, as you set your book aside, it wasn’t the sound of the door opening followed by his feet padding down the stairs that you heard, it was the lock clicking as he shut you in for the night.

The sound of the doorbell jerked you away from your memory. Ransom frowned and looked up from the screen of his laptop before his eyes caught yours and he gave a little smirk.

“Expecting someone?”

You rolled your eyes at his asshole joke and he chuckled to himself, grabbing his phone. As he saw who it was at the door his good humour slipped from his face and without another word he rose from his chair. He paused in the doorway and turned to you. “No funny business, remember…”

“Yes, I know.” You replied quietly. “You know where my family are.”

He hesitated, almost as if he was about to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead he turned and left the room to answer the door.

The study wasn't far from the lounge merely the next room down, and the lounge was closest to the door so you tuned your focus to the voice speaking with Ransom. You recognized it and suddenly found yourself adjusting your tee and duster, making sure the cuffs on your jeans were even. You could hear the distress in his tone, the guest was unwanted and you hadn't realized you were now in the hall beside him. You noticed he took a step back towards you, as if he knew you were there.

Linda Thrombey's eyes raked over you, in shock and disbelief. “What the hell is she doing here?”

As she glared, you shifted uncomfortably, your hands pulling on the sleeves of the duster sweater you wore as you swallowed.

“She’s with me.” Ransom replied, his tone even.

“With you as in 'with you'?” Linda turned her eyes back to him, distaste evident on her face.

“Is that a problem, Mother, because you know where the door is.”

It was a problem, you could see it in her face as she once more looked at you, but instead of sniping back she simply took a deep breath and cleared her throat.

"No, I just wasn't aware you'd have company." Her eyes flicked back to Ransom who simply shrugged.

"Since when did you know anything about what I do on a daily basis, Mother?"

"Don't start, Ransom. I'm not in the mood and I didn't come here for a fight."

"Then pray do tell, to what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Can you stop being such a sarcastic little shit for once in your life?" she snapped.

You stilled a little, your eyes flicking to Ransom and you were surprised to find that instead of the usual anger you expected, his face remained passive on the whole, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes, something that, well had it been anyone else you'd have sworn was concern. But Hugh Ransom Drysdale wasn't concerned about anyone but himself...

“What’s happened?” he asked, his voice still gruff but there was a softer note to his voice. Linda took a deep breath and she shook her head.

"I felt a call to tell you wasn't appropriate and this needed to be handled in person." She fixed him with a look. “It’s your Greatnanna Wanetta. She died last night, Ransom.”

You froze, hearing the news leave his mother's mouth and you suddenly felt sorry for him. Ransom, stood there stoic, his eyes fixated on his mother.

“Was it peaceful?” he eventually asked, his voice measured.

“In her sleep.” Linda replied, her tone soft.

Ransom stayed silent for a moment, his chest rising and falling slowly as he took deep breaths. His expression was unreadable as he simply looked at his Mother, before he raised his eyebrows inhaling slowly.

“Was there anything else?” He exhaled, and Linda simply shook her head at him, a huff of annoyed laughter escaping her.

“That’s all you have to say?” She asked, incredulously, as Ransom shrugged with a petulantly nonchalant air, and you saw Linda’s face redden as she exploded "Oh for God's sakes, Ransom, you really are such a selfish little bastard, aren't you?”

“What do you want me to say?” He asked, his tone measured. “You said it was peaceful and she didn’t suffer.”

“No, I said she went in her sleep.” Linda corrected him. “I imagine she did suffer, how could she not after everything that happened, huh? Hell, she probably died of a broken heart”.

At that you saw Ransom’ nostril’s flare as his eyes burned into Linda’s face, a flush of red rising up his neck.

"Get out," he deadpanned. When Linda made no attempt to move, Ransom stepped forward yanked open the front door of the house, gesturing with his arm. “I’m not gonna ask again. Go.”

"Ransom..." Linda tried to strong arm her way to stay.

"Are you deaf or just fucking stupid?" Ransom replied, his voice didn't even raise in volume but something about it made you shiver. He was positively frightening when he was in this frame of mind.

You watched as Linda gave him a final glare and stepped outside without so much as a glance back, the slam of the door behind her making you jump.

Ransom saw his mother out but didn't return to the study, in fact he ignored Y/N's presence in the hall entirely. Instead, he sulkingly moved towards the wet bar in the lounge. He didn't even bother with the glass, he picked up the first bottle he could wrap his fingers around and white knuckled the neck, spinning the cap off, it clinking to the floor. He downed a long pull, the amber liquid burning sinfully as it coated his throat, his eyes stinging but not from the booze.

“Are you okay?” Y/N’s soft voice startled him as he hadn’t heard her enter the lounge. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hand over his face, and turned to look at her, his jaw clenching.

“Did I say you could leave the study? Did I say you could join the conversation with Linda?” His voice was steely, flat, but he knew full well that she understood that to mean he was pissed and she visibly recoiled in the doorway, her eyes widening. When she didn’t answer immediately he slammed the bottle he was holding down on the bar top, and when he spoke again his voice was louder as he demanded an answer. “Did I?”

“No.” She answered with a quiver, “But I…”

“But I…” he mocked, sneering before he scoffed. “You know considering how smart you’re supposed to be, at times you’re really fucking stupid.”

Y/N blinked a little, and opened her mouth to talk but she fumbled over her words as she frantically began to apologise, which simply served to irritate him even more. With a frustrated growl he reached out and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to look at his.

"You do as I say, when I say it. That rule has NEVER changed," his voice was filled with venom. “I didn’t ask for your sympathy. And I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“That’s not...” she whimpered slightly, and the grip he had on her face tightened causing her to cry out. “Hugh, please!”

And there it was, that fucking name.

You immediately realised your mistake as his face burned red and his lips curled up into an ugly sneer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…you were hurting me and…”

“You think I give a shit?” He spat, and the hand suddenly released your face only to wrap painfully in your hair. Without so much as another word he began pulling you from the room, ignoring your shouts of pain and protest as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists, desperately trying to get him to release you. But it was no good, the more you struggled, the tighter his grip became.

Before you knew what had happened he’d dragged you to the door that led to your room and down the stairs, your feet slipping slightly, causing you to stumble, harshly banging your knee on the bottom few steps where he finally released you, shoving you harshly. Your balance already gone, you stumbled and collided harshly with the side of the vanity table, the pain in your cheekbone causing you to yell out once more as the stars exploded in front of your eyes.

It took you a moment to shake off the daze, and when you finally did you looked up to see his retreating back heading up the stairs, slamming the door behind him. With a gasp you slumped down, your back against the wood of the dressing unit, your hand reaching up to your tender face. From somewhere upstairs in the house you heard another door slam, then a moment or so later there was a roar of an engine, which was followed by nothing but eerie silence.

Hugging your knees to your chest you let out a sob as the tears streaming as uncontrollably down your face.

***** All he could see was rage. Red, hot, firey rage. He slammed the basement door and didn't miss the bar cart on his way out, a full bottle of top shelf scotch in his hand, coat and keys in the other. He drove for miles, no destination in his conscious mind but a rather interesting one in his subconscious.

Headstones came into view until his SUV stopped at the end of the grassy knoll where the mausoleum stood surrounded by trees. He climbed out of the car, bottle clutched in his hand and shut the door behind him, simply leaning against the dark metal of his vehicle. For a long while, he didn't move, he simply stared at the entry, gulping large pulls of the scotch as he stared. His thoughts raced and raced, almost making him dizzy. It was that or the fast burn of the booze.

It felt like a flash of his life replaying in his mind. His great-nana, his grandparents, his parents, a life of entitlement growing up, parties, recreational drugs, booze, women, his fight with Harlan, his sudden plot to commit murder and then the crime, his arrest, and then the visions came to a halt with a mind bending pain and at the end of that pain was Y/N.

Her face, her scent, her voice. The way she felt beneath him, around him…those breathy, little moans, sighs. They’d connected recently, Ransom was sure of it, ever since he’d invited her upstairs and let her do something as mundane as cook. They talked more, engaged more, he no longer fucked her and left, instead he’d dress and hang around for a while, and he liked it. But then, today, after his Mother’s visit, those eyes which had mesmerised him from the moment he’d met her had once more reflected fear and confusion.

And Ransom didn’t like it.

Where that fear had, at one point, given him a buzz, now it simply served to remind him exactly how things had been when he had first taken her, and he didn’t like that one bit. He’d grown to crave the other things, like the way she would touch his arm or squeeze his hand. The way she smiled and spoke. The way she made him feel human, not some ghastly, beastly monster capable of killing someone. But he hurt her, more times than he wanted to admit. He hurt her and did things to her, he was vile and despicable. He WAS those things everyone said.

He was a fucking monster.

He felt the upheaval of emotions begin to collapse around him and he fell to his knees. The sting started and he couldn't stop it. An outpouring of emotions, years, decades even of built up anger, resentment, unhappiness, disgust, fear, pain all erupted in a strangled cry as his chest heaved and his heart raced. Salty steaks of tears wet his cheeks.

And all Ransom Drysdale felt in that moment in time was utter defeat.

His Greatnanna, the only other member of his family who truly ever cared about him, that remained on his side or remotely understood him other than Harlan was now gone and the realization of loneliness hit him like a ton of bricks. His body shook, his chest ached, his mind grew numb and all he could do was cry.

What the fuck had he become, WHO had he become? What did he do? Why did he do it? This was all his fault, Harlan didn't deserve to be cold in the ground. He did this, all of this. Again, but why?

He had absolutely no answer other than because he could.

It grew cold, dark, and late. The scotch was gone, his eyes burned and he couldn't breathe through his nose. At this point he didn't care if he made it back in one piece. He was a piece of shit and deserved everything that came to him by way of a tragedy. He climbed into his SUV and tried to collect enough sobriety to drive towards home. Towards her.

******

You had no idea how long you sat on the floor, but by the time you finished crying and had mustered enough about you to move; you were cold, stiff and aching from sitting in the same position for so long. Your face hurt from the blow you’d taken against the dresser, your knee hurt from where you’d banged it but all that paled into insignificance to the pain that was going on inside your chest.

You didn’t understand why Ransom had flipped like he had. For a few weeks now, things had been okay between you, good even. He’d been reasonably amenable to most of your requests and dare you say it, almost happier in himself. But all this served to remind you what lay underneath that façade. A dangerous narcissist with the ability to swap his face and mood at the click of a finger.

Or, in this case, a visit from his mother.

You wiped at your face, hissing as your fingers brushed your tender cheekbone and with a slight whimper of pain you pushed yourself up off the floor and stumbled over to your bed where you lay down and curled up, hugging your pillow to your chest.

You must have dozed off, because the next thing you recall it was dark and you were still cold. Whilst the basement was equipped with heaters, you couldn’t shake the chill from your bones so you decided that your best option to warm up, and ease your aches and pains was a nice, hot bath. Stretching out slightly, you gave yourself a moment before you pushed yourself up, flicking on the lamp on the nightstand before you got up and headed into the bathroom, flicking on the light.

You paused at the basin unit, glancing at your reflection and you swallowed at the sight of the bruise that was already forming around your right eye and cheek socket. Swallowing the emotion you felt at seeing your face marked once more in such a way, you turned your attention to the bath and the suddenly remembered that the other night Ransom had presented you with a bag from a Boutique you liked that sold home-made soaps and bath bombs, clearly having been in one of his good moods that day. You had yet to unpack it all and put it in the bathroom, so, deciding that you were going to use one tonight, you turned to head back and grab the bag, but as you emerged into the main part of your room, you were stopped short as a thick chest, covered in a ribbed white tee, a hint of a cardigan peeking out as broad shoulders kept warm by a camel coloured coat blocked your path.

You gasped and felt your belly drop out. Your body immediately began quaking in fear as he stood so close to you. You cowered away, taking a half step back but it wasn't enough to put space between you as his hand gently grabbed your upper arm and pulled you into his chest, a shriek emitting from your voice.

"Don't," his voice cracked. "Don't scream, I'm not gonna..." his words trailed off and he just shook his head.

He held you against him. You were sure he could feel you trembling as his large hands pressed against your back. You inhaled a deep, shaky breath through your nose and was met with his scent. He smelled so good, like an expensive aftershave with hints of amber and sandalwood, cedar and vanilla but there was an underlying, distinct aroma of alcohol, scotch you suspected, unless you were mistaken.

You felt his face press into your hair as he took a large, shaky deep breath, as if he was inhaling your scent, which he exhaled before he pulled away, his hands cupping your face. He tilted your face slightly so he could examine your left cheek and you saw him swallow as he took in your bruising. Something stirred behind his eyes, a sad melancholy that you’d seen only once before crossed his arrogantly handsome features, and his head dropped slowly to yours. He held your jaw in his big hands, his lips on yours. You didn’t fight, fighting was futile, but as the kiss continued it soon became clear that this wasn’t like any of the times he had kissed you in the past. No, this one was soft, like a need to just feel you pressed against him. His plump lips pulling yours in and holding you there and you realised, from the lingering taste of something sweet yet ever so slightly tinged with sour, that your suspicions were correct.

Despite your earlier fear, you willed yourself to relax into the relative comfort. It was like he was back to how he had been before his mother had visited and whilst he was in that frame of mine, you knew you were safe, so keeping him there was in your best interests. Your fingers moved from your sides to his chest, the ribbed tee rough against your skin. You continued your movements as his mouth pulled you in just a little more until he traced his tongue over your bottom lip. Your fingers moved out to and up the lapels of his coat, the soft texture like a cottony suede under your fingertips, before settling on the back of his neck, his smooth skin and hairline a definitive juxtaposition to feel. He didn't balk or pull away as he had done previously when you’d tried to show him affection, and you continued to respond to his kiss, your touch seeming to be a comfort for him and in the back of your mind you wondered what had changed to make him act this way. He broke away and rubbed his nose along yours, almost as if he were touching a butterfly, soft and unsure.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." He continued to whisper, over and over. A soft, barely there kiss to your bruises and broken skin and more words, "Let me take care of you."

You were scared to admit that this felt good, the way he was being gentle, apologetic even. Pain radiated from his body once again, like it had just a few weeks ago, his eyes telling you everything he was feeling. The outpouring of emotions there were hard to ignore. You weren't sure if forgiveness was in your repertoire, but compartmentalization was. You looked back at him, and with a slow blink, almost hypnotized, you nod in reply to his request.

Long fingers reached out and tucked a tendril of hair behind your ear, the other hand simply cradling your jaw. You swallowed hard as he bent down and placed his lips on your neck. Your body shivered at the feel of his mouth warm against your skin. His breath hot on your ear, “do you trust me?”

"I don't know," your voice was breathy as you replied.

“Let me fix this," his voice wavered. It was a question, not a demand. He nipped at your skin and you shivered again from a combination of desire and disgust at the way this asshole could make you feel, how traitorous your damned body was.

Ransom felt her breath hitch against his touch. She wasn't fighting him, she wasn't combative, she was...receptive. The thought nearly made him crow for, in that moment, he could feel her trust in him coming in, even if she couldn't verbalize it. He was debating on his lips devouring hers but he was... oh God, he was actually afraid of losing her in the moment. Of her closing herself off. No, he thought, it's best to wait. Ignoring the throw blanket on the floor and the mugs of cocoa on the table, Ransom held her face in her hands. "Do you trust me?" He asked again. She swallowed hard and blinked again, slowly. It was as fair if a reply as he'd get. He could see the war in her eyes, her mind battling with her feelings, her heart. "Stay here."

He left her standing there while he started the hot water. He could feel her eyes on him, watching his every move. He felt different, better even, from the moment he sought her attention when he'd come home. He started the tub faucet and as he brushed past her again, he shucked his coat, tossing it on her bed. He took a small bag he'd brought her earlier in the week and carried it with him. He emptied the contents of a small vile like bottle and watched a moment as bubbles began to firm in the hot but tolerable water. With the bath filling, he sighed to himself and turned to face her.

He peeled his own dusty blue cardigan over his shoulders and let it set over the basin unit. He pushed the sleeves of his white thermal up his forearms and held his hand out to her. She hesitated but slowly slipped her hand in his. He pulled her close and his hands gathered the lapels of her cardigan and peeled it away from her. Underneath her cardigan, Y/N sported a firm fitting white tee and jeans that looked well fitted for her hips and ass, toned legs, bare feet curling into the tiled floor. Ransom salivated as her nipples hardened through the material. He realized she had no bra on under her tee and his hand gently slipped under her rib cage, his thumb padding over her pert nipple. He lifted the thin white tee away from her body and tossed it to the floor. He was half hard just at the thought of her naked under her clothes and now he was solid. Discomfort growing by the second.

A hooked knuckle traced down her sternum, between her breasts and along the center of her taught stomach. He watched as goose flesh covered her exposed skin. As his knuckle reached the waistline of her jeans, he took to his knees, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to her belly, just above her flies. With just his fingers, he undid the button, unzipped the zipper and the peeled the material away from her legs, all the while deep blue eyes peered up at her. He wasn't disappointed to find she'd still worn panties under the rough material, in fact he was delighted. His eyes roved down to her black, lace panties and he reached out, fingers gently tracing long the detailed waistband. Those came down next and as she stepped out of the material, Ransom's hands traced patterns up her leg, faint kisses to her thigh, her hip, her belly. He stood and admired Y/N, completely bare, with less than a foot of space between them.

Ransom hummed, his right hand reaching out, pads of his fingers again trailing a path down the valley of her heaving breasts to her navel. He paused as her breathing hitched and with a smirk his hand dropped lower still, over the faint tuft of hair he insisted she kept groomed, his fingers slipping into her folds. She gave a soft gasp, eyes widening as he continued to tease her, her hands reaching to up to grasp at his biceps as he played with her. She was wet, so wet from just this little bit of play and with a sharp flick of his wrist, he pushed two fingers inside of her.

He leaned forward, mouth brushing the shell of her ear, “Just say the words and I’ll make you feel so damned good, Sweetheart, like you’ve never felt before.” Ransom pulled away, removing his fingers from where they’d been, his hand curling on her hip, sticky with her essence. He backed her toward the tub's edge, his forehead pressed into hers. All motion stopped the second the back of her legs touched the tub. "Get in," he whispered.

You sunk down into the water, the aromatic smell of calming lavender swallowing your senses. Bubbles covered your body, to the point they tickled your collar bone. You eyed him kneeling as he reached over you, grabbing the natural sea sponge loofah and dipping it into the water before he squeezed it over your skin, gently scrubbing. Your face once more met his and you carefully watched him as he exhibited a patience you had never seen from him before. Those blue orbs bore into you, but still he made no move to take you.

And it was unnerving.

But then, as you stared into those deep, icy blue pools something suddenly clicked in your mind. He wanted you to want him. That was what this was about. He’d spent his entire life with people who regarded him as unworthy of love or any kindness and he was seeking validation. Whilst you could see he was genuinely hurting, you also still knew this man was violent, angry, had taken you without your permission, taken what he wanted from you and when. You knew he would take what he wanted tonight too, regardless of what your answer was, the moment for you to back out had been and gone.

But something felt so good about his touch that you were shivering in anticipation of more rather than in fear and the feeling of enjoyment on your mind started to overpower the feeling of disgust in your belly as your core tightened with each breath you felt against your skin. You blinked, your head a whirl, as you were shamefully turned on despite the depraved nature of this entire situation. You broke from your thoughtful trance as a hand cupped your face, a thumb pad tilting you chin upward just a pinch to look at him,

"What?" You whispered.

"Let me in?" He asked, his tone a bit contrite and hopeful.

When she nodded in a slow reply, Ransom felt his stomach drop out from under him. Butterflies grew to take flight like an albatross deep in his gut. He dropped the sponge in the water and stood tall, towering over the tub. He reached behind his neck, between his shoulder blades and pulled the thermal over his head, his hair catching slightly on the fabric. He ran a hand through it to straighten it back up and tossed the garment to the floor. He watched as her eyes grew noticeably wide as they roamed over his taught, well-formed abs, his bare chest. He flexed a little, his muscles twitching as he focused on the buckle and flies of his pants. He'd kicked his boots off as he'd undone his belt, the clank an ignored sound as all he could do was watch her and she him. Ransom allowed the material to fall between them, his pants hitting his ankles and he was quick to slip out of his pants and socks. He palmed his hard cock through his boxer briefs as she watched him touch himself.

He could see the change in her, the look of desire and lust in her eyes. The way she was admiring him now, rather than cowering at him. She was appreciating what was before her. His pale skin, his sculpted body, his naked form. He’s seen her, stripped her bare. But normally he's pulled his dick out and just fucked her. This was uncharted territory, this was new. And he liked it. He liked the way she was looking at him, feeding his ego and willingly participating. This, yes, this was something fun for him. And oh yeah, she wanted this, he could see it all over her.

One foot, then the other, Ransom stepped into the tub and sat opposite of her, careful to avoid the faucet. The water felt inviting, the company even more so. Her one leg nestled between his legs while the other just to the outside of them. She slid her left foot up close to his thigh, bending her leg at the knee. At this new comfortable position, his fingers started drawing intricate circles along her shin and calf. He watched her inhale deeply and tilt her head towards her shoulder, observing him.

As you watched him, carefully, you saw him swallow, the hollow of this throat constricting a little before he took a deep breath, his touch on your leg still feather light. You wanted to lose yourself, give into the desire that you were feeling whether it be wrong or right, at that point in time you were past caring. You were in this position, nothing was going to change that, so was it really wrong to want to feel something more than fear? It was like there was a game of chess being played between your mind and heart, your gut and will.

And then, Checkmate, the idea came to you. You had a chance here to keep Ransom satisfied but on your terms. You had the power. And as long as you kept it that way you could control his temper and his actions, and get what you now shamefully admitted to yourself that you wanted. And the realisation that you had the winning move here was almost liberating.

Ransom shifted a little, the water sloshing around him as he sat up, his chest poking a little further out of the water as he studied your face, and you waited to see what he would do. His tongue poked the inside of his cheek, he was clearly going through a mental battle himself and eventually he licked his lips, his gaze dropping to your breasts which were just under the water line and he swallowed once more before his hand on your leg stilled and he squeezed your calf muscle gently before he moved, leaning forward, his large hand once more resting against your cheek as he drew you in for another deep, gentle kiss.

You leaned into him, letting his lips works softly against yours as your hand dropped under the water and grasped his solid cock, giving him a gentle stroke. The kiss stuttered immediately, and he let out a choked groan as his eyes flew open, locking onto yours.

“Sit back.” You encouraged, and he did just that, his back once more resting against the top as you followed him, your hand remaining soft but firm enough to keep drawing those noises of satisfaction from his throat. His head tipped back as he let you take control, his Adams apple bobbing, eyes closing as no words left his lips, no dirty talk, no hissed little demands about what depraved position he wanted you to adopt, nothing. You held the power, and that turned you on in a way it really shouldn’t.

He gave a strangled hiss as you gripped him tighter and then you shifted, letting go to allow yourself to move your right knee to his left side, following with your other, his eyes flying open, a look of surprise on his face as you lined yourself up and his hands reached up, surprisingly gentle as they rest against your hips. There wasn’t much room, but it was doable, and you sank down onto him, his eyes flying to your hips as you both gave a little whimper as he filled you completely.

His fingers flexed against your skin, blunt nails biting ever so slightly, as you remained still, your hands sliding up his chest, curling over his shoulders. He was tense, coiled like a spring, clearly fighting back the urge to slam up into you and you began to work at a little of that tension, fingers rubbing up and down his neck, the index on your right trailing that vein that was bulging along his throat. His eyes never left yours until you softly began to knead at the strained muscles along his shoulders and neck, massaging deeply as you worked at the knots, his hands still resting on your hips, contracting every so often as you found a particularly knotty spot.

Every so often, he would make the slightest of movements, simply because he was relaxed and you could feel your walls fluttering sporadically, just from being full and stretched to your fill. But, still he made no move to take over, until at one point you hit a particularly knotty area at the point his neck met his collar bone and he gave a little jolt which caused you to groan and he opened his eyes, searching almost for permission. When he found no objection, his hands gently started rocking you.

The pressure and friction on your clit was boiling. It was slow and burned in a way that was so delightful it was almost painful. And, before you could stop yourself you were rolling into him as he kept that same delectably slow rhythm, rocking you back and forth slowly, deeply, before one hand left your hips and grasped the back of your neck, pulling you down for a deep kiss.

Ransom pulled away from her, breathless, his forehead against hers. The words were barely heard, but he knew he said, "I want you..."

"You have me," she replied in a soft whisper.

"Not here," he shook his head, their foreheads rubbing. He glided his nose against hers.

He missed the way she felt around him the second she managed to stand and slip out of the tub. Ransom was quickly behind her, following, bubbles and water dripping to the floor from them both be damned. He followed her to the bed where she stood at its edge, her eyes inviting him. He took a seat, bare ass and thighs soaking the comforter, knees bent over the edge. His eyes roamed her body, taking her all in. His own deep appreciation for her firm an awakening in his soul.

Slowly, just like she had in the tub, one knee slipped passed a hip, the other following. His lips were on her breasts, inhaling the scent of the oils and bubbles clinging to her skin as his tongue traced a hardened nipple and then the other. As he did so, she sunk back down his shaft again, a guttural groan escaping them both. She was ready, the thick vein of his cock giving a seductive friction against her wall.

Ransom ran his hands up and down her back, long index finger tracing up and down her spine as hot open mouth, needy kisses covered as much skin as he could. His hands splayed over her shoulder blades as his hips met her grind, catching her as Y/N arched into his movements. Her head tipped back, sheer wanton pleasure radiated from her with a heat he could almost feel. His mouth moved to the spot he knew drove her wild on her neck under her ear and the little whimper she made was nothing short of delectable.

As he began to lean back towards the mattress, he rolled her body against his, bringing her down with him. He planted his heels against the comforter and scooted them both to the center of the bed, still buried deep inside her. With a hand back to her hip, a gentle grip keeping his own pace with her rhythm, the other tangled in her messy hair as his tongue dove deep into her mouth, savoring each pass her own tongue made against his. He could feel her body flutter against him, sweet kisses her walls made against his solid cock. Her hands braced herself against his broad chest as she sat up, riding him with fluid, long rolls of her hips and he shivered, despite the searing fire between them. He was no longer fighting that desire to take control, he was more than happy to let her take the lead and respond accordingly, dare he say he was enjoying it. The slowness and sheer intimacy was something he never knew he’d craved until now and as she gave a particularly desperate roll of her hips he groaned, "Fuck yeah, Baby, just...like...that..."

A gasp and a shudder ran through you, your walls clenching down on him as a rush of power surged through your entire body. You rolled your hips deeper against him, the friction against your clit nearly too much. You brought your eyes down and looked down at his face, strong jaw, piercing eyes, his thick bottom lip sucked between his teeth. You had full control over him, beneath you he was as powerless as you had been made to feel. "Oh, God," you’re ready to sing a song of pure ecstasy as your body coils and tightens under your own volition. The signs of orgasm were just...right...there.

As you felt a deep thrust from his hips, hitting your sensitive and perfect spot within, your head lulled back and you felt his name roll off of your tongue, "Ransom...."

At the sound of his name spilling from her mouth Ransom gave a groan. It wasn’t Hugh, or Drysdale, it was Ransom. The one thing she had refused to say from day one and she had finally let herself go enough to give in to what he knew she wanted. His chest swelled, a warm feeling flooding from his toes right to his head and he surged up, his lips on hers, the kiss sloppy as with an easy movement he flipped them both so she was underneath him, all semblance of self-control now lost as her voice echoed round his mind, the soft, sultry way in which she’d cried his name repeating like a prayer.

"Gimme one more, baby, just one more..." his hips were thrusting hard, but not painfully so."Say it again, please," his voice was laced with fire and emotion, a whimper or sob nearly on his lips.

"Ransom...." she replied coming again and his fingers gripped into her skin, holding her in place as his seed shot deep into her, filling her, his entire body shaking, no nearly convusling as he came.

Breathlessly, they laid there, his body gently caging her in, her fingers curling around his neck and into the nape of his hair.

“Thank you.” He whispered, and you blinked, not quite sure you’d heard him right.

“What for?” You asked, your breath still punctuated by your gasps as you came down from your high.”

“For trusting me.” His nose nudged yours and you looked into his eyes, “for forgiving me.”

“I’m not sure I have.” You replied honestly, and a frown furrowed his brown before he sighed and closed his eyes, his head hanging a little.

“That’s fair, I suppose.” He looked back at you before he moved, pulling out of you and immediately you missed his presence, the heat of his body gone as he rolled to his side. You waited for him to rise and dress as he usually did but he made no effort to move. Instead he lay still, looking up at the ceiling before he turned onto his side, his fingers gently trailing down your bruised cheek as it brushed the soft pillow when you turned to look at him.

“Can I stay?” He asked.

It was a pointless question. Because, let’s face it, you didn’t have a choice. If he didn’t want to go he wasn’t going to, and it wasn’t like you could leave. But, nevertheless, the fact he had bothered to ask you in the first place was another first. And you found yourself suddenly believing that if you did say no, he would leave.

Instead you nodded, and he gave you a small smile, not a sneer or a smirk, a genuine smile that lit up his handsome face as he leaned over and pressed his lips tenderly to yours.

Together you managed to get yourself under the duvet before you reached up for the lamp and clicked it off before settling on your side, facing away from him.

“My err, my cheek hurts.” You said quietly, offering him an explanation as to why you’d turned your back on him. He gave a small sigh and one of his arms snaked under your neck, the other curled round your bare body, resting just underneath your breasts. He gave your shoulder a gentle kiss, another unspoken apology before you felt him tug you back into him, your back pressing against the hard wall of his chest.

He was the first to fall asleep, his body spent as was yours but you laid there still feeling the electricity roll through your muscles, tiredness settling into your bones. You had given him what he wanted but kept your ground and done it on your terms. It's what he'd needed this entire time, to hear his name from your lips, to be wanted to be cared about, to be "loved". You internally scoffed. To be loved... you doubted he had any idea what that actually meant, to be loved unconditionally. But as you’d questioned the other day over hot chocolate, was that really his fault?

This situation was fucked up. What you were doing was fucked up, but, if giving him what he wanted and what he needed kept you in the driving seat, so to speak, you could work with it.

**** Part 5

#murder he wrote #ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #dark ransom x reader #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom drysdale x you

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penguinlovestowrite · 3 years

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I was wondering if you can do a Fred Weasley x my oc (Hannah) request, you can use y/n that ok! I’ll just use Hannah for explaining. So for backstory, Hannah is a half blood witch with her father being a Muggle and her mother a witch. She grew up most being raised like Muggles so she’s very into Muggle pop culture. She is also Canadian but goes to hogwarts due to a deal her mother has with Dumbledore. She was born In October meaning she’s a year below Fred and George, but she’s been close friends with them ever since first year. She’s also a slytherin. For my request I was thinking you could do something that takes place just after the battle of hogwarts (because it’s may 2nd) and maybe Fred survived and uh can do something with them celebrating their win and the war ending.

Thank you for requesting <3 This is quite a specific request. Also I will use (y/n) in this. I'm sorry that it takes quite some times but I have to say that I am really enjoying writing this. Also it was a bit long... I hope you love it!❤️

Fred weasley x Fem!reader

Genre : Fluff and a bit of angst

Words : 2.3k

Summary : When (Y/n) save Fred from his death, (Y/n) was grateful that everything turns out well as she remember everything that had happened for the past few years.

Warning(s) : Mentioned of death, war, kissing.

Growing up as a half blood is not a bad thing as anyone else would have thought. (Y/n) being the half blood witch herself has always grown up in the more muggle way due to her father being a muggle and her mom being a witch. That was until she was 11 that she discovered the joy of being a half blood.

Due to her mother being a witch and a former students in Hogwarts. her mother had made a special arrangement with Dumbledore just for (Y/n) to attend Hogwarts. Being the only student who came from Canada and away from home, Hogwarts had always felt like home to her.

It was right after the battle and (Y/n) couldn't help but feel grateful for everything with Voldemort being gone for good this time and celebrating the win with the rest of her friends and people that she had called family.

walking into the great hall (y/n) were met with familiar faces. Especially the love of her life, Fred Weasley. She can't described how much grateful she was to see him smiling with his family while sharing laughs with his twin brother. Feeling nostalgic by the sight in front of her, it reminds her to their first meet.

Arriving at the king cross station on the first of September was something that was truly magical. From the moment (Y/n) stepped into the barrier to the moment she made her way to find an empty compartment.

Walking mindlessly to find an available compartment. (Y/n) walked into an available compartment only to find two identical redhead sitting facing each other while snickering along with another boy.

"Excuse me? Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full" she asked suddenly become aware of their attention towards her.

"I don't know...Can she, Georgie?" One of them asked who she assumed 'Georgie' while acting as if he was thinking.

"I'm not sure, Freddie" said 'Georgie' while smirking both of them held a glint of mischief in their eyes.

"I can go if I'm interrupting-" she started to feel embarrassed and tried to excuse herself when one of them cut her off.

"They were just joking, of course you can sit with us" said another boy but this time she can feel the sincerity in his voice while the twins just nodded as she sat besides one of the twins, each of them started to introduce themselves.

(Y/n) had learnt that all of them are in second year and the twin's name are Fred and George Weasley. Fred beside her and George in front of her meanwhile the other boy who sat besides George are Lee Jordan.

"So what's your name?" Fred asked her. She noticed his warm brown eyes and freckles littering on his face making her face feels hot.

"I'm (Y/N) (L/N). I'm from Canada" Their eyes turned wide at the mention of her origin.

"Canada? You must be the only student who came from Canada" Lee said with amazement laced in his voice.

(Y/n) just nodded and bring out one of her favourite muggle book to read. Fred noticed her book.

"What book is that?" He asked.

"Oh it's just a classic story that I love... It's called Pride and prejudice, it's really good."

She explained to him about the story as George and Lee talked to each other. After reading for a while, she decided to join their conversation until they arrived at Hogwarts.

Ever since then Fred, George, Lee and (Y/n) had become inseparable. Even though She was sorted into Slytherin, all of them still finds way to cause mischief together.

Along the way, (Y/n) could feel herself falling for the slightly older twin. Even though she and Fred had become best friend, it was not a secret to everyone that the two of them actually fancy each other. Well, not a secret to everyone but them.

Until one day on her fifth year, everything changed. It was a month before the Yule ball and there was a slight problem. She doesn't have a date. In fact, she thinks no one is even going to ask her to be their date. Considering she's a slytherin and a half blood it was quite hard. Although she was hoping for a certain red head to ask but she tried to not get her hopes up.

(Y/n) was walking to the great hall when a pair of arms wrapped around her, startling her when she realised the arms belongs to her most favourite Weasley.

"FRED! DON'T SCARE ME LIKE THAT!" she whisper yelled at him while glaring at him as he laughed at her flustered face.

"Actually...I wanted to ask you something" He told her as she stared into his warm brown eyes.

"What is it?"

"Actually..." He shifted his eyes nervously when suddenly he brought out a bouquet of flowers from behind him.

"I was wondering if you want to go to the ball with me? As a date? Or as a friend maybe?" A nervous smile on his lips. Fred rarely got nervous even when he was caught when doing pranks and was given a detention.

Slowly she took the bouquet with a smile adorning her face feeling a blush crept up her cheeks. she gave a kiss on his cheek.

"I hope that answers your question." (Y/n) winked, turning around to continue her journey to the great hall, leaving a speechless Fred alone on his own.

The night of the yule ball was the most amazing night (Y/n) ever experienced. The great hall was decorated nicely with snowflakes falling down but it didn't reach the floor.

As she walked down the stairs to meet her date. she saw how Fred gaped and she could feel he stares at her with so much care and adoration.

"You look gorgeous, love" He smiled. She could feel herself blushing at his compliments.

"You don't look bad yourself, Handsome" (Y/n) said smirking when he rolled his eyes.

" I did try my best."

That evening was filled laughter and chatter. Both of them dancing for the whole night, her arms around his neck and his arms around her waist. It was perfect. Staring into each others eyes, Fred starts to leaned his head forward, his eyes flickers to her lips for a second as she found herself slowly leaning in and without any second thoughts he crashed his lips to hers, lips moving in synchronization. The kiss felt natural, like it was meant to be.

Even though (Y/n) know people would be talking about her and Fred newfound relationship but (Y/n) couldn't care less about it, not when she finally got him. The kiss was filled with smiles and giggles, eventually breaking apart and starts laughing.

"I've been waiting to do that for a long time" Fred said with his eyes full with nothing but love.

From that night, marks the day where (Y/n) swore she will spend the rest of her life with him.

Four years have passed since that night. The wizarding world is no longer safe and things were getting worse day by day. (Y/n) are now staying with Molly and Ginny at the Burrow waiting for Fred to come home from his mission on saving Harry along with the rest of the order.

Three years earlier, (Y/n), Fred and George made their way out of Hogwarts dramatically when Umbridge terrorized Hogwarts. Deciding that it was for the best, she joined them. (Y/n) didn't regret her decisions, even when she got an earful from her mother. By the end of the year, the twins finally opened their shop and it was a success. She had moved in with Fred and George when they told her how much they want her to help them with the shop.

From outside of the house (Y/n) could hear Molly and Ginny's panic voice. That was when she saw Remus holding a bloodied George. Without wasting any time she rushed to help Molly when she saw George was missing an ear. The sight alone makes her panic as the thought of what will happened if Fred didn't survive. A few moments after that a popping sound could be heard outside of the Burrow alerting her someone has arrived. To her relieved, Fred and Arthur had arrived safely. Fred Immediately engulfing (Y/n) with a hug as she breath out of relieved.

Fred was devastated when he saw what had happened to his brother but not long until George made a feeble attempt to joke about his blown off ear. The air became thick when Bill announced Moody's death.

The day Bill and Fleur wedding finally came and (Y/n) were excited to say the least. despite being a slytherin and having no blood relation with the Weasley, they still treat as a family even more when she started to date Fred. (Y/n) have always thought of Bill as an older brother along with the rest of the Weasley siblings.

The morning of the wedding day (Y/n) woke up with an arm around her waist as Fred burried his face on the crook of her neck. Turning around she studied his face that was littered with freckles and how peaceful he looks.

"You know it's rude to stare." opening an eye he immediately smile at the sight of her face. How he love waking up with her beside him every morning.

" I'm just enjoying the view." (Y/n) said with sigh and snuggled closer to him as he pulls her closer towards him. The two of them enjoying the peaceful morning. Eventually, their peaceful moment come to an end when George barged into the room telling Fred to help putting up the tent. After several moments Fred reluctantly pulled away from her and decided to get ready for the day and help them with the tent leaving her alone in his room. Deciding that she was not going back to sleep (Y/n) started to get ready for the day.

The wedding was beautiful and (Y/n) were overjoyed by the sight of it but it doesn't last long. Something large and silver came falling through the canopy over the dance floor. Graceful and gleaming, the lynx landed lightly in the middle of astonished dancers. Then the patronus mouth opened wide and it spoke in the loud, deep, slow voice of Kingsley Shacklebot, allerting everyone about the fallen of the ministry.

It has been almost a year since Harry, Ron and Hermione went missing and (Y/n) along with the rest of the weasley went into hiding. That was when Fred walks in wrapping his arms around her waist.

"It's time"

those two words are what she feared most but knowing that the future of her world is at stakes, she's willing to sacrifice everything.

To say that the battle was terrifying was an understatement to say the least. (Y/n) had run and fighting for hours and she was beyond exhausted. Earlier she got separated from Fred and she was desperate to find him. That was when she find him fighting while joking with Percy.

"You're joking , Perce!" Fred shouted.

"You actually are joking, Perce... I don't think I've heard you joke since you were-"

(Y/n) could feel the ground shake and without wasting any time she pulled Fred to the side as the air exploded and the wall collapsed beside them, throwing them to the side, debris all over the air.

Fred grunted in pain as he opened his eyes to see (Y/n) on top of him. Unconscious. Panic started to rise in his chest as he pulled himself up and craddled her in his arms, shaking her while hoping for her to wake up.

"(Y/n)... Love please- wake up"

To his relieved she started to cough as she regained her consciousness. Fred quickly wrapped his arms around her tightly feeling grateful that she survived.

Percy made his way towards them, quickly helping them making their way to the great hall when suddenly Voldemort's voice could be heard commanding his armies to retreat and commanding Harry to gives himself up.

Percy and Fred with (Y/n) in his arms walk into the great hall as Molly quickly made their way towards them, engulfing them with hugs feeling relieved that both her son and (Y/n), her daughter as she claimed her to be was safe.

A few hours has passed and the sun has risen telling another day has arrived when Voldermort and his people arrived carrying dead Harry in his arms. He began to claimed and speech about putting faith on him when suddenly Harry leapt out of Hagrid's arms.

Everything happened so fast and the next thing (Y/n) know Voldermort had turned into dust and gone for good. Everyone was cheering and she was over the moon by the situation.

"(Y/n)!!!"

A familiar voice brought her out of her little memory. A voice she had grown to love. A voice that she would never be tired of hearing.

Fred makes his way to her quickly scooping her up into his arms as she let out a tiny squeal while he spin her around. A beautiful smile on his face even with a messy hair and a slight cut on his lips he manages to look handsome.

Setting her down, they share a long, passionate kiss telling how much they love each other.

"I am so going to marry you after this." Fred said between the kiss making (Y/n) laugh.

"I'll be waiting then..." she said with hope lacing in her voice.

"Just you wait, love"

"For as long as I live..."

With that they share yet another kiss before joining the rest of their family and friends.

#fred weasely #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley smut #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley one shot #george weasley #harry potter #weasley twins

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firelordzukohere · 4 years

Text

Interior Décor

Hello!

When I made this 4 chapters, I initially thought: “Oh 4 weeks? That’s a long time!”

Why didn’t anyone tell me it wasn’t that long!?! I feel like I just started this and I’m already sad it’s over! Please let me know if you want an epilogue or even some cute little one shots. I already have one in my head but I want to know if anyone would even be interested in it. Please let me know!

Finally,

Thank you everyone who read, re-blogged, liked, commented, or messaged me about this story. I haven’t posted a Zuko fanfiction since I was probably 15 years old and the support I received then wasn’t half as much as I have now. You guys are amazing and wonderful and every single notification I got made me smile brightly. I’d seriously get people asking me why I’m smiling at my phone so much. I’m so grateful to each and every one of you for everything, from my whole heart. Thank you so much.

Please enjoy the last chapter of Interior Décor! I truly, truly hope you like it!

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Zuko X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Slight Aangst(heh), and some implications

Word Count: 5k

Summary: Iroh felt it was time for the Palace to reflect the time of Peace and Love that Zuko promised five years earlier at his coronation. He takes it upon himself to hire an interior decorator to help his nephew out and work together. What he didn’t expect was for Zuko to possibly find his own peace and love in the process.

Chapter 3: Jacquard >> Chapter 4: Trompe l’oeil >> Epilogue

The next morning, (Y/N) woke up to a chasm in her chest the size of the Earth Kingdom. It was as if several Earthbenders decided to practice their bending inside of her and leave a massive chunk missing from within. She already yearned to see Zuko again.

Burying her face further into her pillow she moaned. Why did they have to get along so well? Why couldn't she have just worked with Iroh the whole time instead of the Fire Lord? Didn't he have people who were supposed to handle the menial stuff like her, instead of himself? She never considered the fact that all the advisors that would come up to him throughout the couple of weeks wouldn't really stay around much. They always seemed busy doing other things, leaving the Fire Lord to his own devices. Leaving him to spend his days with her, laughing, talking, comfortable silences, and dancing.

She remembered how it felt being led around the floor by him. The moment was so intimate, so right, and she wanted to dance with him all over again. It was like a cloud carried her around, a warm, attractive cloud.

Another groan escaped her lips before she pulled herself out of bed to go and make some tea. Her aunt was already outside meditating for the morning, so she had to be silent as she set the pot on its stand and bent some fire to warm it up.

The silence was disturbed when there were three knocks on their front door. Her aunt looked over at her, brows furrowed in confusion at who could be here this early in the morning.

(Y/N) walked toward the door and slid it open to reveal a courier holding a large package wrapped in intricate silk.

"(Y/N)?" He asked, and she nodded in confirmation. The man shoved the package into her hand before rushing back to his ostrich horse and riding away. She stared at him dumbfounded for a moment and then balanced the package in one hand, shutting the door with the other.

"Ooh! A gift! From the Fire Lord?" Her aunt gushed walking up behind her to examine the beautiful box. (Y/N)'s face burned before she moved to the counter to unwrap the present. She wasn't sure if she hoped it was from him or not. If it was, that meant her aunt could possibly spread more rumors about her having an affair with the Fire Lord, but if it wasn't she was sure there would be a twinge of sadness that this random encounter wasn't from him.

As she removed the silk, opened the box and lifted what was inside, she gasped. It was a beautiful dress, very obviously Fire Nation red, but golden lace lined the halter neckline, and the bodice was covered in red roses with green leafs. The skirt was massive as she continued to pull it from the box. Once the item was fully out she couldn't help but admire the beauty.

However, she was slightly annoyed. This must have cost him at least a hundred gold pieces. She knew she had told him that her wardrobe did not consist of a dress that would be acceptable for the celebration, but that didn't mean he had to go out and buy her a new one!

"Oooh look! There's sleeves!" Her aunt said next to her pulling out sleeves that were the same gold to match the neckline. "And a note!" She handed (Y/N) the note and looked at her intensely to see who it was from.

(Y/N),

You said you didn't have a gown and that's the reason you wouldn't come tonight. I had my tailors work over time to make you this because I cannot imagine spending this evening celebrating you, without you there. I will not make a big fuss about you, so you can slip in silently and leave whenever you feel, but please come, at least to see how amazed everyone is going to be at the site of your hard work. Please come, for me.

I truly hope to see you tonight.

Zuko

P.S. I know you're probably worried about my tailors, they were not overworked and have been overly compensated for their duties.

(Y/N)'s face was as red as the gown as her aunt ripped the note from her hands to read it. With a gasp she looked up at her niece and grinned furiously.

"Exactly how close did you get with the Fire Lord during this time? You implied he was in meetings most of your work days." Her tone pointed and (Y/N) frowned. "Dear, this note isn't just a client 'Thank you' this appears to be a subtle declaration."

Grunting angrily, (Y/N) shoved the dress back into the box and snatched the note and the sleeves from her aunt, forcing them inside as well.

"It doesn't matter, I'm not going tonight anyway. It's highly unprofessional of me to go to this party especially in a dress the Fire Lord had specifically made for me," she grumbled. "I'll just return the garment tomorrow and explain to him how offensive it is for him to expect to buy my attendance to the celebration." Her voice a low hiss as she pushed passed her aunt and into her bedroom, sliding the door shut angrily.

Sitting on the bed, she stared down at the box in her hands. She wasn't exactly angry at Zuko's gift, but she was angry that now she was put in this position. If she went, her aunt would spread all over town that she and the Fire Lord had more than a professional relationship and if she didn't she would waste the tailors' hard work and possibly hurt Zuko.

Who cares what anyone else thinks?

His words rang in her mind as she stared at the golden lace. She honestly only cared what he thought and the fact that he wanted her to go tonight really resonated through her.

Please come, for me.

With a sigh, she placed the box down beside her and dropped her face into the palms of her hands. The internal battle she was dealing with was ripping her apart.

It was easier said than done to ignore what people thought and said about her. If she went tonight, the entire nation's eyes could possibly be watching, scrutinizing her and the Fire Lord.

What was she supposed to do?

Zuko's voice filled her mind once again, "We're supposed to do whatever makes us happy." Why was he always right? He was obviously learning from the notoriously wise Iroh and now passing that wisdom to her.

There was a knock on her door causing her to lift her face from her hands.

"Come in," she mumbled and watched as the door slid to the side and revealed her aunt holding a cup of the tea she had forgotten was brewing.

Sitting down beside her niece, her aunt handed her the cup and then sighed, the deep sound filling the tension stagnant room. While (Y/N) always had a great relationship with her aunt, a strain had formed when her aunt had spread the rumor about her and her first client. She wasn't sure if her aunt ever realized that their bond had weakened slightly, but she tried her best to act as if nothing was wrong.

"I know you know this," her aunt started, "but sometimes I struggle with keeping to myself. I've been alone for a long time. Your uncle died young, your mother and father shut me out after, insisting that I needed to find a new husband or I'd bring shame to the family, and my parents were never really around after your mother and I were married off. Any chance I can, to form a friendship, I take, even if it means hurting the people I love dearly in the process." The older woman frowned as she pat (Y/N)'s knee gently, "I've hurt you with my gossip, and I realize that. I was so excited for your new business and when I thought your first client could also potentially be someone to share your life with, I was happy for you..." trailing off, she couldn't help but sigh again, "but I didn't expect people to take what I had said and turn it into something to harm you. I didn't understand why these women began saying you were a homewrecker when it was common knowledge his wife had already left him. Instead of shutting those rumors down though, I made them worse, and in all honesty, it didn't stop me from creating new ones either."

(Y/N) felt the tears sting the corner of her eyes, begging to be freed from her, to relieve and soothe the pain she was enduring at the memories. They wanted to wash away the sadness. She loved her aunt, but the woman definitely caused a lot of hurt in her life. Even now, as she really did find herself fond of the Fire Lord, she couldn't help but hold back due to the idea that her aunt could spread rumors that would hurt her again. Instead of allowing her pain to show, she gulped down the tea, hoping that it would ease up some of the tension in her body. Once she finished she rested the cup on the bed and stared at her hands, waiting for her aunt to finish whatever she wanted to say.

"I hurt you when I accused you of having anything but a professional relationship with the Fire Lord. I know you're a strong woman who has had to battle many hardships in her life, especially when it comes to love and happiness, and I know I didn't make any of that easier on you even though I was supposed to. For that, I am genuinely sorry." Turning to the box next to her, she lifted the note out and handed it to (Y/N), "I think you should go." The woman whispered and (Y/N)'s head shot up to stare at her aunt. "He clearly cares for you, it's written in this note without even saying it outright. You've been even happier than normal these last couple of weeks whenever you wake up to go see him and when you come home after spending the day with him. I haven't seen that look since you first started your business and you shined at the opportunity to do something you loved. (Y/N) don't let this opportunity of love slip away, even if there is a risk of what people might say. Let them talk about you. As long as you're happy and you've got what you want, let them boil in their own gossip and rumors."

The sob escaped, and (Y/N) shoved her face into her aunt's neck, wrapping her arms around the older woman. Letting her niece cry it out, (Y/N)'s aunt rubbed her back reassuringly and held her tight.

"Thank you," (Y/N) whispered causing her aunt to smile and caress her hair as she pulled back.

"I love you, my dear," the woman smiled, and stood up quickly. "Now, we've got until sunset to get you dolled up and ready for this celebration. When you walk into that room, no one will be able to keep their eyes off of you, especially not that Fire Lord." Her aunt winked before pulling her up and dragging her out of the house toward the shopping district.

Just after sunset, (Y/N) was standing inside her house, dressed in her gown, with her hair curled and flowing around her face, only a small portion was pulled back into a proper bun with golden leaves pinned around it in a circle. She had gotten her makeup done, with golden and maroon hues to accent her dress, and simple gold sandals hidden underneath the dress for easy walking and dancing.

"You look like the queen of the Fire Nation," her aunt gushed as she finished tying the back of her dress. "The poor Fire Lord won't know what hit him when you arrive," she swooned as she came back around to give her niece a final once over. "The party has most likely already begun, so I suggest you get into the carriage now. It's better to arrive fashionably late where everyone will be able to get a good look at you in your grand entrance," she teased.

(Y/N) hugged her aunt and thanked her for everything. She was grateful the woman had talked her into attending the celebration and helped her prepare for it. Their embrace, though only lasting a few moments, seemed to help repair the crack that had been formed for years. When they released, (Y/N) smiled and made her way outside to the carriage they had requested for the evening. A palanquin would have been too expensive, but a carriage was nice, especially since it wasn't too breezy outside to ruin her hair.

After one final wave to her aunt, she was on her way to the Palace, both nervous and excited to see the Fire Lord again.

His eyes darted around, wondering if he'd be able to catch a look at a familiar face with beautiful (Y/E/C) eyes and long (Y/H/C) hair. While he knew that she didn't have to come, he had hoped he had possibly convinced her to with his gift and his note. Though he wanted to spew out in the letter that he didn't want another day to go by without seeing her face, he had to instead be smart about it, in case she didn't return the feelings that swelled within him.

Smiles and hopeful eyes surrounded him as he made his way through the brand new ballroom, filled with diplomats and various other important people that didn't really feel very important to him. Several women had already come up telling him he owed them a dance or two, to which he merely smiled and noncommittally nodded. There was only one person he wanted to dance with tonight and if she wasn't going to be there, he wouldn't step a foot onto that floor without her.

"Ah! Fire Lord Zuko!" A Fire Sage stepped into his path with a bow. "I've been meaning to introduce you to my daughter, Tora," the man gestured to the young woman beside him dressed in a long golden dress with her hair pulled into a tall ponytail. "She's been talking nonstop about this party and the ability to finally dance within the Fire Nation Palace." The Sage chuckled and shoved his daughter toward Zuko.

"It's an honor to meet you Tora," Zuko said, bowing with respect, watching as she flushed but not returning the motion. She giggled and rested her hand on his bicep, squeezing slightly.

"It's my honor, Fire Lord, my father has spoken nothing but good words about you since getting the opportunity to work with you after you took over from your father, shame he didn't turn out to be the man everyone thought he would be." Zuko tensed slightly. No, he turned out to be everything everyone wanted him to be, because the Fire Nation blindly followed his father due to the previous ideals his grandfather and great grandfather had set in their time.

"Yes," Zuko said, already losing interest in the conversation at her words, "it's quite a shame…" he mumbled, looking around to see if anyone could spare him. That's when he spotted a familiar face. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go check on the food for this evening," he rushed away, pulling his arm from her grasp in the process.

Striding up to his hero, Zuko pat his uncle on the back with a grateful smile. Iroh turned to look at him, his face full of roast duck that was being served on a stick.

"Nephew!" Iroh mumbled with his mouth packed, "this party is wonderful! The ballroom is beautiful." Zuko nodded his head, looking around at the glow of the lights from the chandeliers and the ornate imagery of dragons and fire painted into the ceiling. "Speaking of beauty, where is the wonderful creature behind this room? I assumed she'd be here to celebrate with you." The older man said with a wink. Zuko's face flushed for a moment before he took a piece of duck off of Iroh's skewer and shoved it into his own mouth, taking a second to come up with a proper reply to his uncle's very loaded question.

"I've invited her, but she implied that she didn't really like the idea of celebrating herself, she felt it unprofessional," his voice thick with sadness as he thought about her not wanting to be around him. Iroh patted his nephew's face and smiled.

"Don't count your losses yet," he said reassuringly, "she could still come." Zuko nodded his head, hopeful but still disappointed.

He wasn't sure how it happened so quickly. It felt like he went from loathing the idea of someone spending several weeks in his house, going over everything wrong with it, to counting the time until he'd be able to see her again after she had just left for the day. Their bond formed so quickly it didn't seem to be something solid for him to consider, but no matter how hard he tried to banish it from his mind, she just walked right back into his head, perfection and all, telling him that it wasn't that easy to get rid of her. He loved how strong she was but also that she cared so much about him and even his uncle in the small time they knew each other. She was fiery and passionate about her job and he wondered if that would translate the same into a relationship as well… a relationship with a certain head of the Fire Nation.

However, he was worried that he'd never be able to see her again. What if she didn't come tonight? He'd be stuck wondering what would have happened if she had. Would he admit to her his feelings? Would she have returned them? Would they have danced together? Kissed?

Zuko let out a deep sigh and removed himself from his head, turning his attention back on his uncle who seemed to be examining the table of food for something else to enjoy. Shaking his head with an amused grin, Zuko grabbed a slice of ash banana bread and popped it into his mouth, enjoying the warm, sweet taste.

"Sir," his advisor Shuro appeared next to him, "the council would like for you to have a quick word with them in the chambers, it appears there are some rumors of an attack on the Earth Kingdom by Fire Nation rebels," he whispered. Zuko groaned and nodded his head, gesturing for his advisor to lead the way, also grabbing Iroh by the arm and pulling him along.

He wanted this to be a no work event, where he could enjoy himself, his people could enjoy themselves and maybe, just maybe, he could spend the evening with someone he cared about.

As (Y/N) entered the ballroom, she couldn't help but notice several eyes land on her. Scrutinizing faces from several women and lots of whispering began as she strode into the room, looking around for the Fire Lord himself. She knew she could spot him in a crowd of thousands, so when she didn't see him, she had to assume he wasn't there. Frowning, she made her way quickly to the food table to find something to distract her from the ache in her chest at the fact that he was most likely busy with someone else, whether that be a possible courtship or someone from the council. She picked up a single tea sandwich and nibbled on it, looking around the grand room at all the people. Some were dancing, which made her smile, others were swaying while they talked, a few were laughing and drinking heavily. It was a wonderful atmosphere filled with merriment and joy, something the Fire Nation had been without for the last one hundred years, of their own accord, of course.

Women were dressed in beautiful gowns some Fire Nation colored, others from various Nations like the Earth Kingdom and Water Tribes, some even differing from the cultures and made up of glorious silks that were every color imaginable. She was definitely grateful for Zuko providing her with the dress, because anything she had remotely close to acceptable would have paled dramatically in comparison.

Munching on her sandwich, she watched as a man strode toward her with a smooth smile on his face. Her heart dropped knowing that this wasn't going to be good, he looked ready to hunt and she didn't feel like being the prey today.

"What's a beautiful woman like you doing over here by yourself?" He asked, flipping his head to the side and flashing a toothy smile at her. Internally groaning, she returned a curve of her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I'm waiting for someone," she said politely.

"Obviously he's a fool for leaving you alone," the man sidled up to her, reaching behind her to grab a fig and attempting to seductively eat it while staring her in the eye. She let out an unamused giggle, it sounded more like a sigh than a laugh, and shook her head.

"He's just a busy man," she amended, but it didn't help. After finishing his fig, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

"Let's dance while you wait for him, though I'm not classically trained, I can hold my own," his grip on her fingers was tense but she managed to rip herself from his grasp and frown.

"I'll pass thank you," she replied harshly. Before he could say another word, she stormed away, attempting to look for any relief in sight. That's when she saw an escape and ducked for it, hoping no one noticed as she slipped down the stairs and out into the beautiful garden. The turtle ducks quacked happily in the glow of the moonlight that now lit up the whole garden.

She let out a breath she had apparently been holding in since her departure from the creepy man, and leaned against the large tree in relief. Tonight was not exactly going how she planned. While it may have been her imagination, she wanted to walk into the room, have everyone stop to look at her in awe, and then watch as the Fire Lord shoved his way through the crowed to pull her toward him in front of everyone and kiss her deeply.

Instead she had been scoffed at, hidden in a corner hoping that maybe she could find some peace in food, only to be rudely manhandled by some obviously drunken man who didn't understand she wasn't interested in him. She felt like a fool for thinking that tonight would be magical, like those tales her mother used to read to her when she was young.

Zuko was too busy for her, she should have expected that. He was the Fire Lord for crying out loud, why did she think he would drop everything for her? Maybe it was because he had during the redecoration… or maybe it's because she hoped that his feelings for her were somehow as strong as hers for him.

Again, she was just a fool though, thinking that the Lord of the Fire Nation would actually see anything in her other than a decorator. That's what she had wanted wasn't it? A professional relationship that didn't come with the backlash of rumors and heartache? Why did she feel so empty though at that thought? Why is it, instead of picturing Zuko as her client, she only saw him as her friend, and even potentially more? Why did she even come here tonight?

Zuko was finally free from his meeting, grateful they had found a solution for the possible Earth Kingdom attack. Now he was able to enjoy the night and freely walk around and mingle.

With his gaze once again darting around the room in hopes of seeing her, he realized he was disappointed that she seemed nowhere to be found. At the sight of the Fire Lord back within the party, several women rushed forward, begging him for their dance now. Zuko cringed outwardly and held up his hands assuring the women that he wasn't really the dancing type. He insisted that he needed a bit of air and politely circled around them to escape their yearning eyes.

The Fire Lord made his way to the garden, silently going down the steps, hoping no one had spotted him in his departure. He froze though, when his eyes landed on a familiar figure crouched down next to the pond, petting the turtle ducks with her finger.

"You came…" he breathed out relieved as he walked toward her. Her head turned to look at him and her face lit up. Standing tall, she watched as he strode up next to her, his face bright with a smile. "You…" he paused as his gaze finally examined her. "You look… good," he said awkwardly and then slammed his palm to his face, causing her to giggle.

"Thank you, it's a Fire Nation original," she teased, attempting to let him know she wasn't offended by his lack of words. "You look really nice too, but of course you always do in Fire Nation colors." His face burned at her compliment. Turning toward the party that still went on in the ballroom she smiled, "you sure know how to throw a party, Fire Lord Zuko, everyone really seems to be enjoying themselves."

"Are you?" He asked, curious as she was out here by herself. She looked back to him and nodded her head with the corner of her mouth turned up slightly.

"Yes, I just can't seem to keep myself away from this garden and these little darlings," the woman said, gesturing to the turtle ducks. "Have you gotten some time to relax and have a little fun?"

"Not really, but that's okay, I have a new bedroom I can use to unwind and relax in at night," he winked, finally gaining a bit of confidence to flirt with her. Another laugh escaped her and Zuko's heart swelled at the sound. "(Y/N), I'm really glad you came tonight. All day I dreaded the idea of having this party and not enjoying it with you." At his words, she blushed. "I also don't enjoy the fact that I won't be seeing you everyday anymore and I want to find a way to remedy that." Letting out a harsh laugh, (Y/N) shook her head.

"Trust me Fire Lord Zuko, you won't even remember me after a couple of weeks." Her insecurities rearing their evil head, attempting to shut down the fluttering in her chest.

"No, I'll remember you," he said, stepping toward her. Her eyes met his and he could see the fear within them. "I'd rather not risk that though and just see you as often as I can." His voice was low and husky.

"What would you have me do? Decorate something else? We did most of the Palace, everything I didn't touch was already perfectly fine."

"The Palace is perfect now, thanks to you, but I was thinking you might want to come and see me, not my Ballroom or my Throne room," he teased with a smirk, resting his hand on her cheek. "Maybe we could have lunches and dinners together, or take a trip somewhere, I'd like you to meet my friends and get to know them because I think they'd love you," he paused and took a deep breath, "like I'm beginning to." She sucked in a breath at his declaration. "I'd like the opportunity to spend every spare minute I have with you and laugh with you. I love your laugh so much (Y/N) it makes my entire day. I play it through my head all throughout my meetings, trying to remind myself of it until the next time I get to hear it," obviously a giggle escaped her lips at the sentiment causing a goofy smile to appear on the Fire Lord's face.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" She asked, sounding fearful, "I know we talked about it but what will people say when they see us together?" Shaking her head nervously she wasn't sure what to do, everything he said sounded wonderful but she didn't want him to make a mistake.

"I know what I want, I want what makes me happy, and that's you. Do I make you happy?" He asked, his voice determined.

"Yes more than anything." Her words left her lips in a whisper, "I couldn't believe I was falling in love with the Fire Lord until I woke up this morning and felt like someone had taken my heart out and left a hole in it, at the thought we wouldn't be together again."

Zuko grinned before moving his hand to take hers, and resting his other one on her waist. She smiled back at him, aware of what he was trying to do before placing her hand on his shoulder and allowing him to sway her around the grass. Their eyes never left each other's as they danced to the softened music behind them in the ballroom.

"I swore to myself that if I didn't get to dance with you tonight, I wasn't going to dance with anyone else," he replied with a chuckle, rubbing her back with his thumb as he guided her. "You're the only one I want to dance with… other than Aang, but that's a dragon thing," he joked and she laughed again.

He couldn't stop himself, at the sound of her laugh, he dipped his head forward and captured her lips with his, relieved when she reciprocated the action with fervor.

Their swaying stopped but their mouths didn't part as Zuko moved his hands to fully encase her hips and hers slid up to his neck where she pulled him closer, as if it were possible.

When they both separated for air, Zuko let out a smile, before pecking her on the lips once more with affection.

Standing on the platform with a bright grin on his face, Iroh watched as his nephew and (Y/N) returned to their dancing stance and swayed in contentment once more. He was grateful Zuko was finally able to enjoy himself and was happy that it was with someone as wonderful as she was. Behind him, Shuro popped up asking Iroh if he had seen the Fire Lord anywhere, Iroh shook his head and led the man away, ensuring that his nephew got some peace and love.

Master List

Tag List: @royahllty @mangoberry43 @mrskeishasdead @taeeemin @blushbadger @shortmexicangirl @fire-lady-livi @jujugentle

#atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #atla fanfic #atla fanfiction #zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #Fire Lord Zuko #zuko fanfic #zuko #zuko x y/n #x y/n #zuko x you #x reader #firelordzukohere #interiordecor #atla x reader

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the-hilda-librarians-wife · 3 years

Text

Much Ado About Nothing

Summary: On Valentine’s Day, Johanna’s visit to the library takes longer than expected due to ... unforseeable circumstances.

Snowed in Valentine’s Day sketchbook AU

Notes: Okay this fic was written and revised at the quickest speed I could manage so it’s probably not the best, but in my defence I wasn’t even going to write it before I saw @kaminos-hangout-corner ‘s post about v day being cold like, three days ago, so it’s the best I could do :3. Happy Valentines, hope you enjoy it! (also please keep in mind I live in a place where snow is not a thing, so sorry if this is too inaccurate)

Read it on ao3 I Read last year’s Valentine’s sketchbook fic

The library’s closing time had long since passed by, yet the lights inside it were still lit, something that was becoming recurrently common these days. With it being a Sunday, the library’s doors were supposed to have been locked at five in the afternoon, but the librarian had found herself… otherwise engaged.

Johanna had walked in earlier that day, bringing a basket of cookies to give her and of course, bringing her lovely self. Even if she wanted to do so, Kaisa wouldn’t have had the heart to tell her to go away when the time had come for her to close the library, and she very much hadn’t wanted to.

Sometimes the kind woman came to doodle; on the occasion when Kaisa had mustered up enough bravery to ask her about it, back when the two of them barely spoke at all, Johanna had said she liked the peace and quiet of the library, as well as finding it an inspiring place. The librarian had had to agree, there was something about the place that inspired not only knowledge, but also imagination, but she didn’t dare say that it was probably the vestiges of magic in the air.

Other days, which Kaisa had to admit were her favourite, Johanna came simply to check out a book and she always made time to exchange a few words with the librarian; the baked goods were new, but Kaisa was definitely not about to complain.

Of course, she supposed she shouldn’t really be talking during her working hours, nor giving all her attention to one single library patron, but it wasn’t like anyone else but Johanna seemed to even want the librarian’s attention, and besides that they always kept their voices down so as not to disturb anyone. Seeing as the situation seemed completely unproblematic, Kaisa didn’t stress about it, and even felt flattered that Johanna had chosen to spend some more time with her on that date, since she certainly had better things to do. The problem came when, hours after the library had been closed, when they had already spent hours chatting alone in her break room and eating the cookies, Johanna looked at the clock and suddenly excused herself, saying that she needed leave.

“Do you want any help?” Kaisa asked after a couple of seconds of watching the woman struggle to push the library doors. It seemed like a very unusual occurrence, in Kaisa’s eyes. Big as they were, those doors had never given her much trouble, and she knew for a fact that Johanna was a strong woman. She still remembered the time she’d let a pile of books fall from her cart and Johanna had picked all of them up for her at once, which considering how lengthy and heavy the books had been, was no small feat.

“I think I do, actually.” Johanna adjusted her grip on the handle in a way that allowed Kaisa to grasp it too. For a moment, the librarian’s fingers brushed against Johanna’s hand, allowing her to feel how soft they were. Were she not in Kaisa’s presence, she would have huffed at herself for noticing such a small thing in the situation she was in; she really had it bad.

They attempted to open the door again, together that time, being unsuccessful once more. Kaisa’s brow creased. Granted, she hadn’t expected her limited strength to be of much help, but this shouldn’t be this hard either.

“Together on a three count?” Johanna suggested and Kaisa nodded. They both took a wider stance, and when Johanna reached the ‘three’, they dumped all their body weight into the door, but to no avail. They would have had more luck moving a boulder.

The two of them were heaving with the effort when they stopped, Kaisa going as far as leaning forward and placing her hands on her knees to rest.

“What on earth…” Kaisa breathed, before connecting the dots and immediately coming back to an upright position as if she had been startled. “Oh no.”

Johanna gasped when the librarian began running away to the closest window. She’d known it had been snowing, but she really hadn’t given this matter much thought. Spending her days inside the library, it wasn’t often that the weather became a hindrance to her, so it hadn’t even registered in her mind that it might become on that specific day.

“Tell me something.” Close as she was to the window, the tip of her nose nearly touching it, Kaisa’s words and breathing caused condensation to spread on the glass. “Was it already snowing when you got here?”

Approaching the window as well, Johanna grimaced at the amount of white flakes falling quickly to the ground outside. “It was, yes.”

“Damn it.” She whispered softly, trying to keep her cool while inside she was already cringing at having to deliver these news. “I’m sorry, Johanna, but it looks like you’re snowed in with me.”

_#_#_#_

If Kaisa had stopped to think properly, she would have noticed that she was stressing about the situation a lot more than Johanna herself was. This gave the artist conflicting feelings at best. She didn’t know what to think about how desperate Kaisa seemed to be to get rid of her.

For her part, the librarian couldn’t get out of her mind that she had ruined Johanna’s Valentine’s Day. Surely, for her to have asked to leave so suddenly earlier, it was because she had a date (or at least something that was worth her time more than keeping the lonely librarian company), and Kaisa told herself that if she hadn’t been so selfish and had stuck to the rules, asking her to leave the library at the time everyone else was supposed to, this wouldn’t have happened. Now Johanna was stuck with her as company.

Johanna had asked if there wasn’t any other way out that she could use, even though seeing Kaisa’s distress was already enough of an answer. Kaisa had had to bite her tongue and say that no, there weren’t any other ways in or out, even though she could list other five just from the top of her head; the Witches Tower wasn’t exactly open for visitors, and Kaisa would prefer it if Johanna did not end up in the void of no return.

Together, they had tried forcing the door open a few more times, even though they both knew it would be no use. For the first time since she’d known her, Kaisa wished Johanna would stay away from her, if only for one second. If she got distracted for long enough, maybe she could figure out a spell to melt the snow outside. Or to blow the door away and blame it on a new variation of mutant book worms, whichever seemed more believable. No such luck, however, since Kaisa had worked herself into a fine state of panic, and worried for her, Johanna made sure to stay close.

Kaisa’s next grand idea was to call the Safety Patrol. They were the ones responsible for operating Trolberg’s snowplows, so hopefully they would be able to help them out quickly. There was a phone behind the circulation desk, and a sticky note with useful numbers glued on it. The librarian took a moment to thank her past self for jotting down the patrol’s contact number, even though she couldn’t imagine herself in any other situation in which she’d ask for their help. Still, it was good to know that at least at some point in her life she’d been competent.

Her fingertips tapped against the wood anxiously as the phone ringed three, four, five times before someone picked up.

“Safety Patrol, what is your emergency?” The voice on the other side was heavily accented, and Kaisa sent a silent prayer to whatever deity was listening in gratefulness that it wasn’t the leader of the patrol that had picked up. She wouldn’t trust that man to open a jar.

“Good evening, I need to have the snow removed from the library doors immediately.”

“The library? Sorry ma’am, it says here that the library is closed. There’s no one there anymore, so there are places that will be needing the snowplow with more urgency.”

Kaisa rolled her eyes, which caused her to look up at Johanna. The woman was looking somewhat uncomfortable, and Kaisa took it that it was because, as she had mentioned before the librarian picked up the phone to make that call, she didn’t want to bother the Safety Patrol. Though she had insisted that there was no need for such haste, Kaisa knew she was only trying to be kind, or maybe to make Kaisa herself feel like she wasn’t such bad company. But she wasn’t who Johanna wanted to be with at that moment, so she would do whatever it took for the woman to get what she really wished for.

“I am at the library.” She answered, irritation making her tone harsh like the cold outside.

“You are?” The woman on the other side didn’t sound suspicious, only surprised. “Why? Who are you?”

“I’m the librarian.”

There was a beat of silence as the officer understood the situation. “Oh. I see. Well, I’m afraid that doesn’t change many things, ma’am. This amount of snow caught us all by surprise, many places weren’t ready for it. So, you see, there are people snowed in without supplies, and people snowed in on risk areas. Of course, there are also the main roads which need to be cleaned up. You have a private office with water and some food, don’t you? We will solve your problem when we can, but it might take a while.”

“Listen to me.” Kaisa summoned up her most threatening tone, wishing she’d never allowed Erik’s administration to make that silly inspection in the library, or at least that she could threaten to turn whoever she was talking to into a toad. She highly doubted Johanna would appreciate it, though. “I need you to let me out right now. I don’t care if all you bring is a machete so you can break one of the windows, just-”

So absorbed she’d been in trying to sound convincingly intimidating, something Kaisa was most certainly not used to, she was startled when Johanna grabbed the phone right out of her hand.

“Good evening officer, sorry for the bother.” She was leaning on the circulation desk, propped up on her elbows and sounding remarkably calm. “We will wait, don’t worry about us. Good luck with all the snow tonight. Goodbye.”

The officer said something else, but after that Johanna put the phone back in its hook. When she met the librarian’s gaze, Kaisa felt as if a blow had been delivered to her chest. Johanna looked sad with her, and she couldn’t fathom why. If she was only trying to help…. than the problem must be that Kaisa had allowed this to happen in the first place. Kaisa looked down, not wanting to look at Johanna’s face and see the disappointment in her any longer. She didn’t mean to be the wrong person for her to spend Valentine’s day with, she thought as a blush covered her cheeks, making matters worse, but she could hardly apologize for that, could she?

“Kaisa.” Johanna sighed. “There’s no need for all of this, really. Just… just let me make a call, will you?”

“Of course.” The librarian got up from the chair and walked around the desk, switching places with Johanna. Meaning to give her privacy, she walked a little further away, but couldn’t help but hear the first words she said.

“Hi, sweetie.” Johanna said softly.”I’m afraid I won’t be able to make it for dinner tonight-”

A sudden wave of cold washed over her, and Kaisa wrapped her cape tighter around herself. This conversation really wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

Figuring a hot drink would serve her well, she went back to her office and put some water to boil in the kettle. Some black tea would serve her well, but Johanna looked like the sort of person who drank red berries tea. She didn’t even dare to pick the flavour for her, however, since she had no intention of adding one more screw up to the night.

Johanna joined her right as the water finished boiling. “I already told her I won’t make it tonight.” She said as Kaisa gestured for her to choose a tea bag, allowing the librarian to pour the water on her teacup. “So no worries. I hope.”

“Ah.” Kaisa ran her thumb on the porcelain of her cup. She wanted to take a sip so she would have an excuse not to say anything, but that would certainly cause her to burn her tongue. The atmosphere between them was one she didn’t like, even if she reluctantly had to admit that she’d been the one to create it; it was heavy with discomfort and with words left unsaid, but at least for that last part there was something she could do.

“Johanna, I am sorry.” She said finally, making the other woman look at her with an eyebrow lifted in confusion. “It’s my fault that you’re stuck here right now.”

Looking exasperated, Johanna shook her head. “Kaisa, truly, you don’t have to worry about it. It doesn’t really matter that much, she’ll be fine-”

“It does matter!” Kaisa didn’t know why she was arguing against herself, but she felt like she needed Johanna to be angry at her, because otherwise she’d be the one who would continue being angry with herself. “I should have paid more attention to the time and to the weather. But it was so nice to talk to you privately for a longer while that I… forgot. And now your date is ruined because of that!”

She was gripping the mug so tightly that if it were slightly more frail she’d worry that it might break. Biting the inside of her cheek in an attempt to hold back the tears that were threatening to choke her, Kaisa looked out at the small window in her break room. The snow continued to fall stubbornly, caring not for any of them. Apologizing always sucked; whenever she had too much she wanted to say, it tended to come out all at once in ridiculous manifestations of emotion, leaving her feeling like a fool. At least it was done, and now all she did was wait for Johanna to say something.

“My date?’ Johanna half mumbled, half laughed after a second. “I don’t have a date.”

Kaisa whipped her gaze back to her. “Of course you do.” She said without even thinking about her words, an unusual thing for her to do. “You just called her, did you not? It’s Valentine’s day, who wouldn’t want to be with you?”

To her utter surprise, Johanna laughed, a bubbling sound that began in her chest until it spilled out of her, filling the room with its warmth. Kaisa didn’t even care that the laughter was at her expense; Johanna wasn’t sad anymore and that was what mattered most.

“Kaisa, that wasn’t my date. I was calling my daughter.”

The librarian blinked in surprise, hoping her hair hid the pink spreading on her face. “But… when you noticed the time, you said you needed to leave immediately.”

Johanna’s mug could barely hide her satisfied grin behind itself as she took her first taste of the reddish beverage. Now that she knew exactly what Kaisa’s panic had been about, and that it had nothing to do with wanting Johanna to go away, she was admittedly enjoying the situation way more that she thought she should.

“Yes, because my daughter has an inclination to chaos and would take my being late as an excuse to meddle around the kitchen and possibly set the house on fire.” Watching realization dawn in Kaisa’s face was like watching the sun rise, so deep the transformation was. “I just told her to order in to avoid accidents.”

Holding her steaming cup with her left hand, the librarian used her right one to cover her face. She really hoped there were no witches going through any of the secret passages at the moment that had heard that exchange. They would never let her live this down.

“Oh my goodness.” Her words were muffled by the heel of her hand, and in a show of compassion, Johanna held her giggles back. “I’m so sorry for the way I acted, that was honestly pitiful. I just wanted to make sure you could spend your Valentine’s day - well, Valentine’s evening, I suppose, with the person you wanted.”

Internally repremending herself, Kaisa didn’t dare look at Johanna; she hated how vulnerable and emotional she sounded, and it ought to have made the other woman uncomfortable. She brought her cup to her lips and immediately regretted it when Johanna spoke.

“Who’s to say I didn’t? I did come here to talk to you, didn’t I?”

The witch nearly spilled her tea all over the tiles. When she stared at Johanna, finding her looking right back at her, the woman only smiled calmly, as if the implications of what she’d said weren’t more than enough to shake Kaisa to her core. Still tranquil, she glanced at the book which was sitting on the counter of Kaisa’s kitchenette.

“Is this the book you told me you were reading?” She asked as she lifted up Much Ado About Nothing for the librarian to see. “When we were talking earlier?”

Realizing she still had her cheeks pouched with tea, Kaisa forced herself to gulp it down and nod. “It is. I have already read most of his plays but not this one, so I figured it was worth a shot.”

“We still have some time here, don’t we?” Once more, Kaisa nodded, fearing she looked like a stupid string marionette. “Would you read it to me? I find drawing while listening to stories very cosy.”

“That’s-” Kaisa’s lips slowly bloomed into a smile. “A wonderful idea.”

While the librarian sat down on one of the two chairs of the break room’s table, Johanna produced a sketchbook and a pencil from her pocket. Too distracted finding the place she’d stopped, Kaisa failed to notice most of the doodles in the drawing pad were of her. To that day it had never failed to surprise Johanna that she really believed she went all the way to the library just to doodle in peace.

“Would you like me to begin again so you can keep up with it better?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Johanna was already planning what she would draw. She’d sketched Kaisa so many times, admiring her from afar as she sat in one of the library’s tables, but the evening’s event had made her more confident that her feelings weren’t one sided. Surely a drawing was a more straightforward gift than a batch of cookies, she thought. “Just pick up where you left, it’s perfect.”

After taking a deeper breath, the librarian began.

“I do not love nothing in the world so well as you - is that not strange?”

#lol people who follow my personal blog got a mini spoiler of what this fic would be about #fic: maan #my fic #sketchbook ship #sketchbook ship hilda #sketchbook ship fanfic #kaisa hilda fanfic #johanna hilda fanfic

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aliceu · 3 years

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Fic writer tag !!

Thanks for the tag @whiteprincessofnohr, @sleepylixie and @yyxgin 💞💞

1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?

Stray Kids is actually the first fandom I write for 😂

2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?

Well skz obviously :D but with Set the Sails I’ve dabbled for the first time in writing for TXT, and for the next collab I’ll be writing an ATEEZ Yeosang fic !!

3. how long have you been writing?

Uh tricky question. I think since first grade in elementary school? I kinda stopped for 5-6 years though and only got back to it a bit more than a year ago.

4. on which platforms do you post your stories?

Only tumblr! Should you find me somewhere else then that’s definitely not me 😂

5. what is your favorite genre to write?

Fantasy! Romance! Angst! (Not heart-break angst but that murder and intrigues and betrayal kind of angst hahaha) ,,My mind somehow also always produces historical aus but they are quite exhausting to write because of all that needed research

6. are you a pantser or a planner?

About 50/50? I think about the basic direction of the story (the beginning and the end,, or at least a specific scene close to the end) and about the most relevant steps in between. The rest is more or less freely written and I get ideas and inspiration whilst writing!

7. one-shot or multi-chapter?

For reading? Both! Though I especially appreciate the potential for slow and steady character development in multi-chapter fics! For writing? Also both me thinks 😂 I’ve yet to post a story with more than one part but that doesn’t mean that my mind isn’t constantly spitting out ideas that would definitely not fit into only a oneshot. (@sleepylixie remember Three Kings? I still haven’t given up on it hehe so maybe after all those collabs and that one conservatory wip I’ll actually get to it and start posting :D)

8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?

Oof, I’m not picky, really. I’ve read stories with chapter lengths up to 50k so everything, as long as it’s engaging to read!!

9. what is your longest published story?

Definitely Set the Sails (19.8k) !! It exceeded my initial estimate of 3-6k by far !! 😅😂😂

10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?

Very difficult! When Masks Dance maybe because of the dynamics between Minho and reader~ also Set the Sails, I kind of had a brainrot with that one 😂 oh and Fire and Iron too !!

11. favorite request you’ve written and why?

Probably Fire and Iron. It’s really short (meaning: a blurb) but the angst~ the fear~ Minho as scary bastard~~ (thinking about it now, Minho being a scary bastard was definitely my fave part of it all)

12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?

y e s Some kind of pretense or subterfuge or at least things are not as they seem at first/from the outside, eyes as the window to the soul/eyes having seen more than the person’s age would suggest, themes of war, pretty bois, moral ambiguity, equivocal conversations, ... (I just realised that I have exactly two pieces of writing with only fluff and none at all in planning lol)

13. current number of wips?

I’m only ever actively writing one story at a time (currently the yeosang one) but the number of planned fics (with fairly thought through content) is about 8-9. I have MUCH more ideas however

14. three things you have noticed about your writing?

1) fLowEry language 2) looong sentences 3) fixation on facial expressions

15. a quote you like from a published story?

The man’s voice was languid, like dark honey, smooth and sweet and of a richness that was beguiling, that was full of tender promises and ardent declarations. (When Masks Dance Beneath Palm Trees)

16. a quote from an unpublished story?

The crowd to him was like an open book, a language he had mastered, an instrument he knew exactly how to play to get what he wanted. (Three Kings)

Music had always been a hideaway to you, a novel world full of wondrous adventures, of castles made of chimes, and clefs acting as players. It was a world so grand in its complexity and full of storytelling miracles, a world only visible to those who listened well, who were seeing the blank scores with their heart instead of their mind. Music was a tale that had to be told, a truth that had to be created tune by tune. (Count of Saint Germain fic aka Elixir of Life)

17. space for you to say something to your readers~~

First of all, thank you all so so much!! Without you I wouldn’t be here and posting, so I’m very grateful to you all !! You motivate me to keep on improving my writing and to share new ideas rather than fantasising about them in my mind only 😂 and to those of you who give me feedback or even only a keyboard smash, please know that each and every one of you makes my whole day !! Much much love for you !! 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

Tagging @fizzydrink698 @missskzbiased @lixesque @lavenderbexlatte @popisdead @hhjs @crispy-chan @chaninfused @delicatewerewolfsoul @the7thcrow @luminois @ohmysparkle @mingkii @chanluster and anyone else who wants to do it~~

#game time 🎠

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obsidian-aurora · 3 years

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Why I feel so sad for Xiao Zhan for winning the Weibo King award again in 2021

Right now you might see a lot of people spreading the fact that Xiao Zhan won Weibo King again with joy and happiness. I can only personally feel sadness and regret. Because when I look back at the year 2020, and what Xiao Zhan went through, Weibo had a big part to play in that story. They took advantage of his pain to make money and profit from it. They did little to stop what was happening because to them it was traffic.

His fans who left the 85 million votes for him for Weibo King probably weren’t thinking about what Weibo means to Xiao Zhan. They weren’t thinking about how Xiao Zhan disengaged from the platform completely, moving his small interactions over to Oasis and Douyin to escape the toxicity inherent in the conversations taking place on Weibo. All that they were thinking was “We want to show him how much we love him!”

Well you know what I think is love? Listening to your own idol’s words.

Let’s take a small journey back through 2020 and listen to Xiao Zhan’s own words on what he wanted his fans to do this year.

I won’t rehash 227 itself - if you want my take on that event, then I’ll write another blog post about that, it being almost a year I’m probably finally reaching a point where I can discuss it rationally without bursting into tears remembering my own personal experience with it. But rather, let’s take a look at what happened after 227.

On March 1, Xiao Zhan studio issued their first official statement. What did they say?

Recently, we have noticed some controversies about Xiao Zhan fans, occupying some social public resources, and also causing trouble to everyone. We deeply regret and apologize for the impact of this incident. We are very grateful to all fans for their support and love to Xiao Zhan. At the same time, we also sincerely call on all love to be positive, and hope that everyone can chase stars rationally. While doing a good job of self-protection during the epidemic, we will work together in a more positive way and support things that bring positive energy to society.

On April 24, Xiao Zhan said something and his studio reposted.

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY What’s past is past, I’ll remember it by heart. Thank you for all the criticism with good intensions, I’m working hard to improve.

Xiao Zhan Studio April 25th 00:03 #肖战新歌光点# The light spot moves towards love. Please listen, @X玖少年团小战DAYTOY 's voice. ♥

And again, Xiao Zhan studio.

Xiao Zhan Studio April 25th at 14:27 Thank you for your love and support for Mr. Xiao Zhan and his works. In this studio, as always, I solemnly appeal to everyone to continue to take care of their study, work and life at the same time, and to distinguish the truth and not blindly follow in the thousands of voices. Thank you for your wise support. Every love, no matter how big or small, is a meaningful point of light, gathered together to form the most beautiful light.

When He Jiong was attacked, Xiao Zhan jumped in to say:

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY Sorry to disturb everyone, don't hurt others!

Xiao Zhan Studio April 27, 15:04 Please stop slandering and spreading rumors!

He gave his first interview after 227 on May 6. He expanded upon the statement he made on April 24 when he said he was working hard to improve. He spoke about the controversy, the responsibility he feels as a public figure, and his desire not to control his fans but to guide them to do positive works like participate in charity that improves society. He felt like as an artist, his role was to continue to improve his acting and his singing.

“As for the people who love and support me, I hope they won’t do some extreme things, or hurt other people, or even hurt themselves. I hope that they can protect and love themselves, and live their lives well. Live their lives well.” “And if it’s possible, outside of school and work, we can do things together to help others and contribute to society in a meaningful way.” “I think charity is a part of an ordinary person’s social responsibility.”

youtube

Again in May, following a controversy when a teacher recorded her classroom cheering him on, Xiao Zhan was forced to make statements encouraging his fans to live their lives well.

@X玖少年团肖战DAYTOY Please listen to me carefully again! I hope everyone puts their studies, work, and life in front of star chasing. Study hard and work hard. Do your responsibilities and obligations, and abide by professional standards and industry bottom lines. I don't need help.

Xiao Zhan Studio May 10 at 23:26 I hope everyone puts their work and life first 🙏

Xiao Zhan Studio May 11 at 21:14 Starting from us, we hope that each of us can do things that are beneficial to society and be positive.

A school is a temple of knowledge, a place for preaching and teaching, not a fan factory for celebrities. Children's education is related to the future of the country, and the development of youth values is related to the hope of the nation, and it must not become a tool for chasing stars.

Furthermore, over the course of this time period Xiao Zhan Studio met with the organizers of his official fan organization and they rebranded the Fanclub to Xiao Zhan Film and Television Support Club to emphasize their goal to focus on his works and his works only. They released a statement with their intent and called on all members to do the following:

Xiao Zhan Studio May 15 20:01 If you see the good, you will move, and if you have, you will change. Start with me and work hard together. 1. Do not support business and works with behaviors beyond our own economic capacity. 2. No more activities such as ranking, controlling and appraising and cheering. 3. Accept all well-intentioned criticism and don't maliciously attack others. 4. Continue to actively participate in public welfare advocacy. 5. Focus on Xiao Zhan's work such as film and music.

Take particular note here of the specific call out not to participate in activities such as ranking (like the Weibo King votes).

In July, when his own fans were accused of cyber bullying others again, Xiao Zhan studio released a statement saying that they would defend any victim of cyber bullying, even someone bullied by his own fans.

Xiao Zhan Studio June 30 at 21:42 No matter who is responsible for his words and deeds, we support all those who are suffering from cyber violence or personal attacks on the Internet, and bravely take up legal weapons to protect themselves. Regardless of who’s a fan, taking legal measures is a legitimate behavior

@易胜华律师 Recently, some netizens posted on Weibo that they had suffered online violence for publicly publishing criticisms against Mr. Xiao Zhan. Entrusted by Mr. Xiao Zhan, we issued the following lawyer's statement: We welcome all kind criticisms and reminders, and resolutely oppose and resist all cyber violence. No matter who the cyber violence is directed at, it is an illegal act and should bear corresponding legal responsibilities. We are willing to provide legal assistance to the above-mentioned parties who have been violated by online violence, and we are also willing to provide assistance within our capacity for their rights protection operations. Yi Shenghua Lawyer Wang Xiaoyan Lawyer June 30, 2020

In July, Xiao Zhan and Xiao Zhan Studio met up with representatives from Weibo to discuss the cyber bullying that he had been subjected to this year. But was this at Weibo’s own desire to clean up their platform? No. This whole time Weibo was profiting from every hot search that drove more traffic to their platform. It was the Cyberspace Administration of China that DIRECTED Weibo to clean up their mess.

Over the years we have seen Weibo ban accounts from time to time that are so blatant with their cyber attacks that they have no other choice. But often they will wait until stars pursue legal action before doing so. And they will only release the real-world IDs of users when under a police investigation pursuant to a lawsuit. I’m not suggesting the platform should start doxxing its own users, but rather ban all malicious and slanderous behaviour from the outset. Right now under Chinese law anyone with over 30,000 fans who says slander against another can be pursued by the law. Weibo should act before it needs to come to that.

Chinese Star News did an interesting video on Fanquan culture and the ways in which Weibo profits from it. If you haven’t seen it yet, it’s worth a watch.

Ever since the summer, Xiao Zhan has been very careful and direct in all his public interactions. Most of his events were pre-recorded. Only at the end of the year did he start doing live events again, and when he was surrounded by friends he was okay, but as we could see from the recent iQiyi event when he is without friends around him he still struggles.

April 12 - Hymn of the Red Plum Blossom (pre-recorded)

May 6 - Interview with China News Service (pre-recorded)

May 9 - Bamboo in the Stone (pre-recorded)

May 10 - Mother's Day live stream (live) (unannounced) (no fan interactions)

June 11 - Xiao Zhan goes to do agricultural charity activity (pre-recorded)

June 15 - Xiao Zhan releases summer cocktail video (pre-recorded)

Aug 17 - Xiao Zhan RoseOnly live stream (pre-recorded)

October 19 - Xiao Zhan at Shanghai Reading Film and Television event (pre-recorded)

October 25 - Xiao Zhan sang Brightest Star in the Night Skies (pre-recorded)

Dec 20 - Xiao Zhan attends Tencent Awards (live) with friends around him

Dec 31 - Xiao Zhan attends New Year party (live) with friends around him

Jan 15 2021 - Xiao Zhan attends iQiyi Scream Night (no friends) (does not look happy/comfortable)

It must have been SO hard for Xiao Zhan to continue to work behind the scenes in 2020, recording his new show Ace Troops, attending some events in secret, shooting some advertisements that he wasn’t sure would be able to make it to the air - and some events that got leaked and then had his portion cut out. It must have been so, so hard.

So to me, the least that we can do as fans is to listen to what Xiao Zhan has asked of us. And over and over again he said that all he wanted from his fans was for us to live our lives well. To not do extreme things. He wants things to go smoothly. He wants to take his time, to choose his events carefully, and come back at his own pace.

So what do his fans do? They massively vote for him to win the Weibo King award. This has put him in an impossible position.

Either he needs to decline the award, and face criticism from everyone about being arrogant in a year that he should be grateful. Or he has to suck it up and show up to an award hosted by a platform that did little to nothing to help him when he was in pain, and instead in fact profited from his pain.

He will have to put a smile on his face and say thank you for recognizing that I was a high traffic star last year, even when the majority of his traffic was due to cyber attacks.

Why would his fans put him in this impossible position? Back when this award was first announced, his own major fan club leaders requested fans not to vote for Weibo King. If you wanted to vote for anything, then you should vote for his acting role in The Wolf, because that was about his professional work - not for Weibo King, which is literally like an award for Prom King. It’s a popularity award, nothing more.

Will Weibo King help him to come back faster? No. Will it make industry leaders want to sign him on for more TV and film works? No. Speaking from experience working in the industry for many years, the only thing that industry professionals care about is ratings on the shows that are produced. And Xiao Zhan cannot rely on his fans alone for ratings. If his ratings are going to continue to increase, then he needs to attract the respect of a wider audience. And if that wider audience is already of the impression that Xiao Zhan is a loose canon because his fans are out of control, this massive over-rating of Weibo King only reinforces that belief.

Just look at this graph.

Xiao Zhan fans are posting it with pride, saying look how well we did! Xiao Zhan trounced the competition! But the reality is that all other stars’ fan groups had also instructed their fans not to vote for this award, because they all see it for what it is - a popularity contest that can hurt more than it can help. Xiao Zhan winning by such a large margin only shows how little his fans listen to him.

Now instead of Xiao Zhan deciding for himself when and where to come back, what events he wishes to attend, he’s going to have to make an appearance at this awards show and slap a smile on his face and say thank you.

Thank you Weibo, for profiting off my pain.

It makes me sick.

If you voted for Xiao Zhan in this award, take a moment to think about Xiao Zhan’s words for your future behaviour.

Live your lives well

Don’t do extreme things

Don’t spread rumours

Accept criticism and don’t attack others

Don’t protect me

If you can, do charity and help others

If you are following your own idol’s wishes, then I salute you. You are the type of fan Xiao Zhan will cherish.

#xiao zhan #227 #weibo king #xiao zhan weibo king #weibo

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phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess · 3 years

Text

if you have a question about aussie slang, for a fic or whatevs, please just ask i don't know all of it, but we do have some fun words and sayings that are day to day statements

esp. the more rural you go

not everyone has the full accent though, because you do get a lot of pressure at work to come across... professional or whatever.

the only one i've never been sure of being an Actual Phrase, or if it Became A Phrase after popularisation on a tv show, is "Stone the Flaming Crows" bc a dude from Neighbours used to say it frequently.

examples of day to day stuff i can think of right now

mad as a frog in a sock (angry about something, went off, off the shits)

mad as a cut snake (usually means 'they're nuts', but can also mean they exploded with anger, usually contextual)

she'll be right (it's fine - can be a flippant statement, can be reassurance, etc)

drongo / galah - (idiot, not very smart, wanker, etc)

dunny = toilet

thunderbox/outhouse / long-drop - usually outdoor toilet

dry as a nun's nasty / dry as a dead dingo's donger (I am thirsty, or It Is Hot AF/we need rain so bad)

chuck a u-ey (do a u-turn)

Oi! (Hey I want your attention/i was surprised, general exclamation, stop that, you are in a lot of fucking trouble mate - depends on the tone of voice and volume) like "OI!" says aunty ruth has just found her dentures in jello and she knows you did it, etc

Bugger off (go away, or sometimes a statement of disbelief)

Yeah nah /Nah yeah (can mean yes, no or maybe depending on what was said directly before the statement)

you cant pull the wool over my eyes - you can't lie to me like that / i can see you are not telling the truth

shut your gob / put a sock in it / put a cork in it - (shut up / shut the FUCK up / close your mouth or i will shut it for you) depends on tone

Ya wally (you idiot)

Roo = kangaroo

o = can be affixed to anything to shorten it at the servo - gone to the service station, arvo - afternoon, smoko - morning tea, bottlo - where the grog is

goon/goonsack - wine in a box

grog - alcohol

stubbie - beer, ususally

boardies - board shorts

rashie - swimming shirt,

slip, slop, slap - ancient proverb for avoiding sunburn. singing pelican.

thongs - footwear

sheila = female / woman, don't hear this a lot at the moment tbh except in certain contexts or from specific people

'Getting rowdy' = things are heating up, people are riled up, a fight is about to/has just broken out, etc.

DJ's like a mad cunt = one very specific meme about a bad PM we had like 10 years ago. i can't tell you how many PM's ago, it's been game of thrones here lmao

Beyond the black stump / Out whoop-whoop / references to timbuktu (quite a distance away)

strewth!/crickey!/bloody hell - (exclamation of surprise, expletive replacement, etc)

flat out like a lizard drinking (tired / drunk / exhausted / sleeping)

pull a harry holt - (I've heard a dozens variations of this one, it means Go Missing / Disappear, often used as a joke. PM Holt went swimming one day and disappeared)

have a stickybeak (to poke your nose in/investigate/look around)

chuck a wobbly/throw a tanty/chuck a tanty/throw a wobbly (throw a tantrum, i have legit never seen anyone successfully deescalate a situation by telling someone not to chuck a wobbly or throw a tanty, go figure lmao)

bogan - (very specific kind of low-income, generally white, people. sort of like rednecks, but with more stereotypical aussie features like a mullet, singlet tops, sunnies, stubbies, etc. tend to fall under the liberal party ideology - who are our republicans... )

ankle-biters / rugrats / little takkers / gremlins / nippers - (kids, usually the littler ones)

tiff - argument, small fight (had a tiff, had a row)

pav = pavlova

piss/whizz/take a piss = going to pee

vegemite - delicious

Kiwi = New Zealander

Banana benders - the disrespectful bs that apparently other states call anyone living in Queensland, the wankers

station - farming areas that have sheep or livestock usually, have farmhands etc.

dole bludger(s) - (anyone on Centrelink, whether they want to be or not, with no other employment. but like, a lot of people on centrelink have a job that does not cover enough and need additional financial supports to meet a minimum wage, or are students or apprentices, etc. there are people who go on centrelink on and off to avoid engaging in the jobseeking stuff, they are the real dole bludgers, but a lot of richer people tend to call anyone on 'welfare' bludgers)

don't you come the raw prawn with me - (do not lie to me / don't try that shit with me, mate / I wasn't born yesterday /etc)

dak/dack - to dack someone is to come up behind them and yank their pants down (or skirts). Often taking out your boxers, too.)

budgie smugglers - (speedoes, male swimwear)

togs/toggs or cozzie (swimwear, any kind. cozzie = costume)

mozzie - (mosquito)

better than a kick up the backside /better than a kick in the arse - (pretty self explanatory, one of those phrases parents use to get slightly hurt kids to start laughing and/or coworkers to commisserate about new work rules, etc)

I wouldn't piss on (name) if they were on fire - (self-explanatory, you hate them, or they're a useless tit or an insufferable person /a suckup etc, and you would gladly hand them a match)

one for the road = getting a drink for the road, usually. can also make a joke of it like, "one last piss for the road" = I'm going to the bathroom before I leave

here's your handbag, what's your hurry - probs not an aussie phrase but a common joke in my family

----------------

So like, there's some words and items from Australian Indigenous culture that often get used wrong in stereotypical characters, like saying 'gone walkabout', using 'cooee', making digeridoo jokes, and making some really uncomfy 'savages' statements can be very disrespectful. You might want to go looking into Australia's fucked up policies and historical (and only recent) situations before starting any arguments about this stuff... in many ways it mirrors the cruelty of american colonisers to native american peoples, etc.

Avoid some phrases. Your character gone to cool their head? He's gone off on to soak his head, or he's on his bike (gone away) but he'll be back... You can use 'Oi, dickhead!'

Please don't mock the names of towns or places, they are often the names from the traditional custodians and inhabitants.

-----------------

Random things:

We drive on the left side of the road, driver's side reversed.

More of our cars are automatic than manual. Utes aren't atypical, but bigger vehicles are out in rural areas because more than a few of the rural roads are poorly maintained or dirt, with potholes that yoyo your soul into your body.

If you have a character on a long drive on a non-highway, or rural road: +if you are on a one-lane road and someone is comingthe other way, you both move half-on, half-off; for big vehicles or trucks, you can choose to pull off completely and stop. Just for safety, esp. in rain, fog, mist or late at night. +at one-lane bridges, you have a give way sign on one side. if you want your characters to have a moment of 'pause to look at each other while driving' or 'a quiet moment of reflection', have them wait for another car or truck to pass from the other side. These can be a few metres long, to like, a really long bridge. +They may pass markers that say 'flood level marker' with numbers of 2, 3 or 5 metres. Could be useful to remark on if your fic needs a reason for them to have a crisis. +Bushfire warning signs (from Low to Catastrophic) are frequent +Animal Crossing signs are very frequent, and often have a wildlife rescue number on them +Water restriction signs are in most small towns, they range from levels 1 to 6. This can change what the characters are allowed to do with water in little towns, etc. +You may occasionally find a small servo and one or two houses. +pubs don't open/won't serve alcohol until after 10am. the joke has always been, 'beer on your cornflakes' but you will never be able to actually get that unless you preplanned the night before in your hotel room. +Around dawn and dusk, a lot of animals like hares, kangaroos, wallabies, sometimes echidnas and koalas and little numbat things, and snakes and bushmice will be close to the road. Sometimes dashing across. They do not react logically to cars approaching, and will leap out at random. Hares do this zigzag nonsense. If you need the character to hit the brakes frantically, or swerve, this is a good reason. If you are ever driving here and see an animal on the side of the road, flip lights to low beam, slow down and watch to see how they react. If you can. If there's a truck blaring down on you, you may not be able to.

+Emus are in more rural areas. Echidnas sometimes appear on fringes of towns though.

+Kookaburras are a lovely creature, I have rescued a few and they are nice... but their laugh is very grating when it goes off super early in the morning. They eat snakes (good) and baby birds (not so good).

+Lots of snakes round here. LOTS. Carpet Snakes are pretty common, red-belly black snakes, eastern brown (big danger!!!), whip snakes have declined in my region, keelback snakes, this one black and white banded one we found deceased, etc. Snakes can climb, snakes can SWIM. Putting something that stinks around a campsite MAY help, but not always.

+Never go swimming in a dam you don't own, and that hasn't been checked, and if no one knows where you are. How deep is it? What's on the bottom? How stirred is the water? etc.

+Kangaroos CAN drown you. They have perfected this attack, and will do it to humans, dogs and other pursuers alike. They can also eviscerate you with their hind paws or shatter your ribs with a kick. The 'boxing' they do is exceptionally violent. This seems to surprise people, but like, giraffes can kill each other by slamming their heads into each other, you think a 7 ft swole motherfucking cryptid can't do harm? They can be lovely tho, if they trust you. But DO NOT GO PETTING WILDLIFE.

+Dropbears, austrilanicus vericanthus bitus, are real. We do make jokes about them, but they are a Problem. The pee on yourself thing won't ward them off, that's more about working out which tourists are the most gullible (and if they run with it, the moistest) lmao. Akubras and other thicker-layered headwear,

+We have wild dogs and feral pigs. Do not fuck with the feral pigs, some are HUGE, and no... they're not just pigs who escaped farms, these are MASSIVE motherfuckers who will Get You if they See You. Rustling in the night outside the tent? Good Luck.

+Koalas should not be picked up directly. They have claws, and a lot of them have chamydia. I mean if a character saves one in a fic that's fine I guess, but like... someone's getting antibiotics after that lmao. They are bigger than you think, dumber than you think, and sometimes they have to be chased across a highway with a windscreen cover bc they're not very bright and keep failing to climb metal fences, lmaoooo

+Towns of about 20-30k will have more shops (some franchise, some local owned), servos, fast food places and usually at least two to three shopping centres. Usually small level entertainments like a cinema, or local groups. +Towns with 10-20k, may have one or two major shopping centres, servos (tracks and RVs catered to), possibly a maccas, and the majority of stores will be local-owned. May have a cinema, but not one that has the newest releases. Local council may have more festivals, or 'that one thing they're known for'. +0-10k towns have a small local store, prices usually a bit higher. A servo, often with capacity for trucks. Local festivals. Characters can cop a bit of side-eye in these places, esp. if they don't fit the traditional ideas or are loud/violently american. +Grey nomads are a thing. Old people with fancy caravans who drive So Slow, and move all around aus. Several refused to stop during covid and it was like, WHO DO YOU THNK WE'RE TRYING TO KEEP ALIVE BY STOPPING YOU MOVING THROUGH MULTIPLE TOWNS???

+Some rural areas have legit red dirt, its always super cool to look at. Some places have light brown to dark brown, some have more chalky colours or yellowish dirt. Depends.

+Reminder: Australia has very specific gun laws, if your character/s have weapons then they may need to be sneaky or store them specifically in the vehicle. Although if you're talking about like, mad max type rules, then who cares. But if you have them get into a gun fight in a town, the police will come, etc.

Dunno, just ask if you have a question... just trying to think of random things to paint a picture if you have a character over here for a roadtrip or mission or whatever.

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