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beyondspaceandstars · 3 years ago

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Around You Neck

Bonus: Part 3

Relationship: Helmut Zemo x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, fingering, dirty talk, exhibitionism, voyeurism, slight degradation, choking, slight metal arm kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Something was sparked inside you after Bucky let Zemo watch you two. Now you want to take it a little farther with Zemo but you also want Bucky there as a bit of a...guide. A/N: this was actually requested (see below)! I never, ever thought the original Around You Neck would be taken this far but it certainly has gone on a journey. You don’t technically need to read each part to understand this one but if you’d like to see the progression, please feel free. I hope this lives up to any and all expectations!

Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2

As much as you didn’t totally want to admit it, you couldn’t stop thinking about Zemo.

Ever since the sexual ventures you had partaken in with him and Bucky, your opinion on him had...shifted. While, no, you weren’t looking at him as some sort of romantic conquer (you were still very much dedicated to your boyfriend) you couldn’t help but wonder what it’d be like for him to join again. Maybe this time a bit more...hands-on.

Truly, though, you never thought you were actually going to act on these ideas. In fact, you figured you hid your wandering mind pretty well. Some sneaky glances at Zemo and brushes of hands weren’t much to raise any alarms, especially when you were constantly in close proximity with said person. It truly didn’t get closer than being in their literal home. But you forgot to take into account the fact Bucky wasn’t exactly of normal human nature. His senses were dialed up to eleven - especially when you were in the room.

Your shameful confession came out one afternoon. Bucky had heard you giggle at something Zemo had said and nearly punched a hole through the nearest wall before grabbing your arm. While nothing crazy, he did throw you into the nearest room with some force, anger practically emitting from him in waves.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He asked once the room to the door was shut. You backed away, quite surprised by the outburst, as Bucky stalked towards you, seething.

“W-What?”

“Don’t try to blame dumb with me,” he scoffed, arms folded with a pointed look on his face. “Why are you making googly eyes at Zemo?”

“Googly eyes-,”

Bucky cut you off. “And laughing like he’s the funniest fucking person on the planet? What game are you playing here, dear?”

That goddamn nickname made you cringe. Ever since Zemo restored to calling you that during the intimate encounter, Bucky hasn’t let it go, using it like some weapon.

You shake your head, trying your best to play this off. Sure, you had some words of explanation for your boyfriend but you didn’t want it to come out right now. “I-I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Bucky raised his brows in surprise. “So, you haven’t been shooting little glances at him? Or how about when your hand just so happens to end up on his shoulder? That’s definitely my favorite.” His tone was so lifeless. You gulped.

An awkward pause settled as you tried averting your gaze anywhere but at your annoyed boyfriend. This task proved to be impossible. “Bucky, please-,”

“You want to be with him, don’t you?” His question filled the room. “God, I knew this was going to happen. I never should’ve…”

You began shaking your head furiously. “Not in that way.”

“Not in that… Well then in what fucking way?”

You looked down at your hands, fiddling with your fingers anxiously. You took a deep breath. “I think we should… We should bring him into our, um, activities again.”

The silence that followed your confession was nerve-wracking. You didn’t have the guts to look at Bucky, just standing there patiently waiting on his response. The longer he stalled the more foolish you felt like you had actually cheated on him when that wasn’t anywhere near the truth.

For a moment, you thought he wasn’t going to say anything, just storm out or something, but instead, he let out a nervous cough and asked, “In what way would you- would you want him to join us?”

You slowly gather the courage to face your boyfriend again. He looked genuinely curious, lacking any sort of rage you had assumed would be present. No, instead, he appeared interested, not even mocking you in any way. This all made you feel quite more comfortable about the truth getting out. You took a moment to recollect yourself and get your pounding heart under control.

“Well… I can’t deny that I want to sleep with him.”

“I knew it-,”

“But,” your voice raised, cutting off Bucky, “I want you there to sort of, like, l-lead him.”

Bucky cocked his head. “Lead him?”

You nodded, taking a few steps closer to your boyfriend, practically as close as you humanly could. “Tell him what to do, how to please me. Only you know that, honey.” You chuckled, placing a light hand on his chest. “Picture it: Another man wants to ravish me, but you… Only you know how to get me going. Only you know what I want, how to make me squirm. Only you can teach him and wouldn’t that just be…” Your words trailed off as your eyes fluttered shut at the thought, a soft moan leaving your lips. When you opened them again, Bucky was searching your face with great intensity.

“You really want this, don’t you?” He asked. You shyly nodded. Bucky took a moment before continuing, “You want to be watched while you get fucked again?”

“Bucky…”

He let out a dangerous laugh. “My naughty little exhibitionist,” he shook his head, a knowing smirk playing at his lips now. You couldn’t believe he was coming around to the idea but the fact he was made your core already so wet. “Okay, doll. Let’s see what we can do.”

***

Bucky had decided to take the lead when it came to bringing this up with Zemo. Still ever such the dominant figure in your relationship, he instructed you to wait in the guest room you had been lent while he approached the Baron.

Amazingly, you didn’t have to wait long. Within moments, your heart was dropping as the door to the room was pushed open by Bucky. Zemo followed swiftly behind with an unreadable expression.

Both men stopped at the foot of the bed, right in front of you. You looked up at them, curiously.

“So - So did you explain…”

“James did enlighten me with your...desires,” Zemo said, a little smirk playing on his lips. “I must say, dear. You are quite the little minx.”

Your jaw went slack at his words, unsure of what to say. Only Bucky liked calling you that. But you certainly didn’t hate it rolling off Zemo’s tongue like that.

“Maybe you should cool it with the pet names,” Bucky snapped.

Zemo glanced at him. “I don’t know, James, she seems to enjoy it.”

You clenched your thighs, unable to deny it. Bucky didn’t miss that little movement but chose to not acknowledge it.

“I’m taking the lead here and if I say no pet names then there are no pet names,” Bucky said, his voice slow and serious as he stared down Zemo. “Got it?” You couldn’t believe the sight in front of you. Nothing had even explicitly happened yet and there was already a puddle forming in your panties.

“Very well,” Zemo eventually agreed. Slowly, right in front of you, he began removing articles of his clothing. This was happening. “How would you like me then?”

“I-,”

Bucky cut you off. “When you’re done, undress her.” Zemo didn’t say anything but just nodded, stripping down until he was in all his bare glory right in front of you. You tried to not stare, focusing instead strictly on his face which held the tiniest smirk, as he began teasingly running his hands under the fabric of your shirt.

You couldn’t believe how hot you were finding this. Your control was pretty much gone, all solely in the trust of Bucky and Zemo. A diabolical pair. You obeyed when Zemo motioned for you to lift your arms. Within no time, you were totally open and bare in front of the men.

Zemo’s hand lingered on your face, stroking your cheek softly. You gasped at the motions. He came close to running his thumb along your lips but then Bucky spoke up, “Enough. Lay her down.”

Zemo didn’t waste another second pushing you back onto the bed. He was crawling on top of you in no time, not waiting for another command before capturing your lips with his. It felt like a brand new world. His movements in the kiss, deep and powerful, were so unlike Bucky’s. Bucky’s had meaning, years of love behind them. There was nothing like that with Zemo, just the understanding of what you’re here to do. It took your breath away.

Bucky scoffed when you two pulled apart. “I’ll let that slide for now. Start warming her up, touch her. It won’t take much, though. Can already see she’s dripping onto the sheets.”

Your cheeks burned at the borderline degrading words from your boyfriend but Zemo didn’t look phased. Instead, while one hand was planted next to your head, his other began running up and down you. His fingers were so light and teasing. They ran over your breast, pulling lightly at your skin, earning a surprised gasp from you. Zemo looked quite pleased with himself as he continued, his hand now making its way lower on your body. He stopped just above the apex of your thighs, hovering temptingly.

“Touch her,” Bucky commanded, his voice strained and...needy? You didn’t have much time to think too hard about it before Zemo was plunging two fingers right into your core, the wetness allowing the easiest of access. You cried out in surprise earning a low chuckle from Zemo. He seemed quite amused by how vocal you could be.

“Feel good?” He asked, mockingly. His fingers curled within you as they pumped in and out, your walls clenching around them desperately. You nodded weakly.

Bucky groaned. “Touch her clit. Now.”

Zemo happily complied. The palm of his hand began pressing against your clit with every thrust, forcefully. At one point, he stilled his fingers in you, giving your clit his full, undivided attention. You yelped, twisting at the overwhelming sensation of the fingering and circling.

Pleasure was running through you at an almost unbearing amount. It all escalated when your head lolled to the side and your eyes fell on Bucky. He was leaning against the wall across from the bed, hands fisted at his side, erection clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. His gaze was hard, his pupils wide. He was watching so intensely yet with just the littlest hint of wonder. It hit you - Bucky was starting to actually enjoy this.

Zemo, on the other hand, wasn’t happy he lost your attention. A rough hand came up to your neck, forcing you to look back at him. He roughly pressed his forehead to yours, not letting your eyes wander even in the slightest. All you could do was stare back at his eyes while he fucked you relentlessly with his fingers.

“Eyes on me,” Zemo gritted.

“Watch yourself, Zemo,” Bucky snapped back.

Zemo’s grip on your neck got tighter and you were done for. That fucker really knew your weak points. The fingering was skilled but the grip on your throat... your body couldn’t take it all. You yelled out as your orgasm ran through you, your body jerking in response to it all. Zemo didn’t lighten anything up, though, forcing you to take it all until you were practically clawing at him, begging to stop.

“That’s enough,” Bucky shouted. Zemo gave a dangerous chuckle before removing his fingers, licking each one as if they were a meal to be savored. But Bucky wasn’t close to being intimidated by the other man as he continued his commands, “I’d fuck her now if I were you. She’s getting antsy.”

“I think she’s always antsy,” Zemo sneered. “Maybe I want to make her wait a bit longer. Make her really cherish it.”

Your eyes were still forcefully locked on Zemo until Bucky stomped towards the bed and grabbed the man by the back of his neck, hoisting him away from you. His hand left your throat unwillingly.

In a chilling tone you don’t think you ever heard from Bucky before, he whispered in Zemo’s ear, “I’m making the calls, Zemo, remember? You’re obeying me. If I say fuck her, then you fuck her.” He pushed the man back down, his head falling to the crook of your neck. When he regained his strength, Zemo pulled away to look at you. An unsettling smile played on his lips.

“As you wish,” he muttered and, in one swift, he entered you. Fully. No true warning. You gasped in utter shock at the boldness. You hadn’t expected it to take a moment or two for you to adjust to him. He was different from what you were used to with Bucky. Bucky had the length, but Zemo had the girth. He was stretching you in a whole new way and once you were past the shock, you soaked in all of it.

Zemo just halted inside you, waiting for you to face him. You hadn’t even realized your eyes had closed until you were being forced to reopen them. Once you gave a little nod - your way of begging at this point - Zemo began moving in and out. His pace was strong, so determined.

He must’ve seemed like a man deprived because Bucky barked out, “Slower. Now you can let her wait for it. Let her feel it. She gets so needy sometimes she just has to be taught some patience.”

Reluctantly, Zemo complied, slowing his motions. You couldn’t even imagine the power-high Bucky must’ve been on at that moment. But you didn’t have much time to think about it as Zemo began dragging his full length out of you and reentering slowly, just as instructed. You moaned loudly as the pleasure built.

“You like that? Huh? Sure sounds like it,” Zemo grunted in your ear. “You make the prettiest little noises.”

Your eyes fluttered shut once more as you weakly nodded. But your chance to get lost in the sensations was interrupted by Bucky. Suddenly, he was at the side of the bed, his metal hand coming around your neck and turning your head to face him now.

“Use your words, doll,” he whispered, his eyes never leaving your worn-out expression. Your body jolted with each of Zemo’s thrusts. Bucky paid no mind to the other man, keeping his focus on you and continuing, “Tell him how you’re feeling. It feels good, doesn’t it? Do you like having another man fuck you while I watch? I gotta admit, when you first brought it up I was hesitant but you’re right. There is something about knowing what you need. What makes your little pussy all fucking wet. He may be on top of you but I’m the one controlling your pleasure. You scream for me.”

“Yes, Bucky, yes” was all you could chant as everything began boiling up inside you.

Here you were screaming one man’s name while the other pounded you. There was the hand on your throat - the metal hand. Zemo taking his sweet time delivering his thrusts. The little pressure on your clit every time he’d push in you. Both of the men were only paying attention to you… It was so much at once yet exactly what you needed. Within seconds of Bucky finishing his little monologue, you were cumming hard around Zemo’s cock. It must’ve triggered something in Zemo as well because he wasn’t that far behind.

“Faster,” Bucky suddenly demanded. “Until she can’t take it anymore.”

Zemo sure wasn't hesitating on this one. You felt him fill you fully while his thrusts didn’t falter. He was making sure you two were fucked good. You clawed at Bucky’s arm, wanting something to hold onto as you rode out the orgasm. He kept his grip on your throat tight and careful, watching you with those overwhelming eyes as you came on another man’s cock.

After a couple more weak thrusts, Zemo gave a final strong one before pulling out of you completely, making you whimper. Zemo gave you a soft smile before placing a kiss on your forehead. Once calmed down, he turned his serious self once again and began reclaiming his clothing items. You couldn’t believe how he could just turn it all on and off with a flip of a switch as if you weren’t lying on the bed fucked out mostly because of him. But that was what you had felt from him. It was all just about finding pleasure. And you both were successful.

Bucky didn’t pay any attention to the other man’s actions. He was still locked on you. His hand had left your throat now and was now caressing your cheek. You giggled at the softness, such a stark contrast to just moments before.

Fully dressed now, Zemo cleared his throat, pulling you and Bucky’s attention away from one another. You glanced over at the man. He nodded to you both. “Thank you for the...invitation,” Zemo said. “Better than I could��ve ever imagined.” With that, he promptly exited as powerful and bold as he had entered.

You were alone with Bucky now, unsure of what to actually say.

“Did you enjoy yourself, doll?” Bucky eventually broke the silence. “Better than you could’ve ever imagined?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. His little tinge of jealousy was coming back despite being thoroughly turned on. Which reminded you…

“I did enjoy myself,” you confirmed. “But I think I could have just a little bit more fun.” Regaining your strength, you shifted to a kneeling position on the bed. Your hand began creeping its way up Bucky’s jean-covered thigh to where his erection was still being strained against the material.

Bucky let out a low chuckle as your hand pressed over his covered cock. “You just don’t know when to quit, huh? My insatiable little girl.”

You blushed. “I just want to make sure you enjoyed yourself.”

“Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea.”

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divinerulerluvr · 4 years ago

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Cold Metal

James punishes you for cheating on him.

Pairing - James Patrick March x Fem!Reader

Warnings - Smut, massive gun play/gun kink, degradation, light humiliation, cheating mention, just really... dirty

A/N - I asked if this was too dark to write and you guys wanted me to write it so here it is. I had a rough time writing this so it kinda sucks but hey, I tried.

// not proof-read //

Pushing the door to your hotel room open, you walk in and start to take off your jewelry.

It had been a few days since you last saw James, your boyfriend-- if you could even call him that. You had been away from the hotel lately and were staying with a friend by the ocean.

Trying to shimmy out of your dress that you usually needed a second person to help remove, you suddenly felt a hand on your waist.

“In need of some assistance?” James’ heavily accented voice says, his presence scaring you. You jump, turning around to face him. Your scared expression melts away quickly, the initial shock wearing off.

“Sure,” you agree. His fingers find the zipper to your dress that had a reputation of being jammed. He easily slides it down, pushing the fabric apart once it was fully unzipped.

“I’m glad to see you’re back. I was starting to get worried,” he says, watching as you push the dress down your body and step out of it so you’re left in just your underclothes. “Yeah, things got hectic up there,” you reply.

Your eyes briefly scan his body, taking in his usual 1920s style clothing. Tucked into his pants you saw a strange object.

“What’s that?” you ask, standing at your vanity as you wipe your makeup off. He doesn’t reply and instead takes the object from his pants. Your eyes were focused on your reflection so you weren’t aware of what it was until you heard a gun click.

Your body freezes, the noise of a gun cocking being no stranger to you.

Turning to face him, you saw how he held a gun in his hand. He had always been a jealous man. James never liked how you could leave the hotel at any moment. You were often afraid he’d try and kill you to tie you to the hotel.

“What’s that for?” you ask with naivety. James smiles softly, his eyes downcasting onto the revolver he held. “I used to murder people with this weapon, dear,” he says simply.

Setting down the makeup wipe, you try and act cool as if him holding a firearm didn’t bother you. He sighs softly, turning and sitting down in one of the chairs in your hotel room.

“I haven’t used this revolver since… the seventies,” he adds on, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stand by your bed.

“So you’re gonna kill me?” you ask with a humorless chuckle. He shrugs. “I certainly find it rather disheartening how much you leave this hotel, Y/n. I can’t help but wonder what you do while you’re gone,” he explains.

Swallowing thickly, you keep steady eye contact with him. “It’s nothing bad. I just can’t stay here all the time, James. You know that,”

“Don't pull that,” he replies quickly, looking more and more fed up. “I’ve been stuck here since the thirties, my love. Don’t act like I don’t understand the itching compulsion to flee this hotel,” he waves his gun around while he speaks.

You stay silent, your eyes still on him as he sighs softly. “I’m not going to kill you,” he states flatly with only an ounce of truth to his words. He sees your subtle relief at his statement and smirks evilly. “Now,”

With his additional word, you feel your skin heat up again. “Come here,” he coaxes, motioning for you to walk toward him with the gun he held.

Obeying his command, you walk over to him so that you are standing right in front of him as he leans back on the chair. “Did you miss me?” he asks, running his gun down your outer thigh. You nod eagerly, telling the truth.

He smiles, satisfied with your answer. “Take that off,” James says in reference to the underclothing you wore. Your hands go to your bra and you pull it off before you move to take off your underwear.

Once naked, James’ eyes run over your body. You awaited his next round of instruction, knowing there’d be more to do.

James held his gun loosely in his hand, his hand resting on the arm of the chair. “Why don’t you sit on my lap, darling,” he says, phrasing it as a question when you knew it was a demand he expected to be followed.

You hesitate, wanting to see how far you could push it before he got pissed off and aggressive. He raises his gun, pointing the gun at you. “Your sudden defiance is charming, Y/n. But I do hold the gun here,”

Suppressing your reaction, you keep a blank face as you move to straddle his lap. You were more than turned on by this. You, of course, were enjoying every second of this.

Well, minus the very real possibility that he’d kill you after he fucks you.

Now on his lap, you could feel how hard he was through his pants. You feel him drag the cold gun up your back, the chilly metal making you shiver. He keeps his eyes on yours, a dark and sinister feeling behind them.

His free hand rests heavily on your hip while he drags the gun further up your back and brings it around your body until the tip of the gun was being pressed underneath your chin.

Holding your breath, you stay completely still. You knew the gun was both loaded and off safety. “It is so easy to have someone bend and morph to your will. All you need… is a gun,” he comments darkly.

A weak whimper leaves your lips as he pushes you down even further into his lap. He trails the tip of the gun down your neck gently, bringing it down your body and in between your breasts before reaching your cunt.

Your body tenses, the cold metal pushing against your pussy. You already knew what he wanted you to do before he said it.

“Please yourself on my gun,” he whispers lowly. “I need to know you’re worthy to fuck,”

Without another word, you slowly rock your hips back and forth on his gun. You gasp softly, your eyes falling shut to hopefully alleviate the feeling of humiliation coming from him watching you get off on his loaded gun.

You were embarrassingly wet and yet you continued on with rubbing your clit on his gun. “So dirty,” he comments degradingly. “Getting off on the gun that has taken countless lives,”

His voice was reduced to a deep whisper, his eyes darker than ever as he watches your movements. Your breathing gets heavier as you feel an impending orgasm build up. The hand that laid on your hip soon digs into your skin, ceasing your movements.

You pause, opening your eyes as you squirm for more pleasure. James removes the gun from between your thighs, his eyes going to the barrel that your wetness covered.

He clicks his tongue. “Lick it clean,” he states, raising the gun so it was in front of your mouth. You delay obeying his words and soon feel his other hand gripping your neck and forcing you to lick his gun clean.

Defeated, you stick out your tongue and lick his revolver. The mix of the metal and your arousal and just the action of licking a gun had your skin burning with need.

You treat the gun like you would his dick, licking stripes from the bottom of the barrel to the tip of the gun. “Would you like me to fuck you? Is that what you want?” he taunts, keeping a deep and seductive tone.

You quickly nod, your eyes on his as he pulls the gun from your face but keeps his hand on your neck. He smirks. “How bad do you want it?” he continues teasing.

“Really bad, Sir,” you reply, writhing on his lap so that his clothed dick would rub against your clit. “Take off my pants,” he commands. You follow, his hand still gripping your neck as you pull his pants down.

You grab his boxers next, pulling them down before settling back on his lap. You were never allowed to make the first move when it came to this part.

He removes his hand from your neck and pushes his dick into your pussy. You inhale sharply, his rough thrust immediately hitting your cervix. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, your hips pushing down against his.

“You’re doing all the work. Consider it repaying me for cheating,” he says. You had been cheating but it wasn’t like you were in love with the other person. It was just meaningless sex. And since James was dead, you figured he wouldn’t find out.

He presses the gun to the side of your head, not happy with your resistance to start riding him. You quickly oblige, having defied him just so see what he’d do.

Now, with the tip of the gun pressed to the side of your head, you start to bounce up and down on his dick.

A moan leaves your lips, your hands on his shoulders to keep you balanced. James exhales deeply, his head falling back laxly as you do all the work, just like he had said. He felt amazing. Way better than your side piece.

James watches your breasts as you ride him, watching as they bounce with your movements. He keeps the gun against your head, making sure you knew the power he held over you at any given moment.

You try to ignore it, but it did make the entire situation a little more fun. James knew your love for the mix of sex and thrill. That’s why he was doing it.

With your movements getting quicker, James’ other hand digs roughly into your hip. “So pretty when I’m inside of you,” James compliments, his eyes studying your face as you go through the throes of pleasure.

Your hands slide down his still-clothed body, resting on his chest. “James…” you whimper, your legs turning to jelly as you try to keep a relatively steady pattern of bouncing up and down.

He could tell you were getting tired. James never really had you ride him very often so you weren’t used to it. He always teases you about being a pillow princess but you never really cared and neither did he.

You could already feel your orgasm building back up again. With all the arousal and teasing leading up to the actual sex, you were just begging to cum.

The hand on your hip wraps around and goes to your ass, slapping it. A sharp gasp leaves your lips, and you soon smile softly. Your pussy clenches around his dick, your arousal making a mess of your inner thighs.

Your nails dig into his skin through the shirt he still wore, your body tensing as you were on the very edge of your orgasm.

James cums a second before you do, the feeling of his cum filling you up making you orgasm. You pant out his name, unable to speak as you climax. As you ride through your high, you slow your movements down until you were back to sitting on his lap, his dick still inside of you.

You rest your head on his chest, feeling him pull the gun from your head and set it down. He pushes your hair from your face, doing the little bit of aftercare he ever really does.

“You’re not going to kill me?” you ask, your voice muffled by his shoulder.

“No. I will if you cheat on me again,”

Taglist:

@just-some-lesbian @evanmybeloved @sallyscigarettes @arsenicbruise @auricgold @billyhxrgrove @liandav @peanutbutter-y-jams @ellamaianderson @kaiscumrag

#ahs #evan peters #ahs hotel #american horror story #james patrick march #smut #james patrick march x reader #fic #fanfiction

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willowbleedsonpaper · 4 years ago

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Tears Of Guilt

Sirius Black x Sister!Reader (Adopted), Regulus Black x Sister!Reader

W.C. : 2490

Warnings: This is pure angst, character death.

“Sit.” ordered Walburga, her voice snapping at you when you took more than a second to get to the chair next to Regulus. You could hear the clicking of her heels on the wooden floor behind you and if you focused enough, you could hear her thoughts, the words boiling inside her head as she abruptly stopped next to you “Where is he?” she said sharply, her eyes burning holes at the top of your head as you stared blankly at the wall across from the table.

“I don’t know.” you muttered, voice dead as you kept your gaze on one specific spot, avoiding her eyes at all cost.

She scoffed lowly, her pacing behind you resuming once again “Don’t lie to me, Y/N.” she threatened “His belongings are gone, his room is empty. Where. did. he. go?” she asked, leaning her body between you and Regulus as she turned her face to you, her hand carefully caressing your cheeks before she gripped your chin and forced your face to look at her “Stop protecting Sirius or it will be worse for you my child.” she said, staring directly into your eyes as she let go of your face, red marks in both your cheeks from her tight hold.

You swallowed hard, returning your face to the portrait you used as an anchor. “I haven’t seen him in weeks, let alone talked to him.” you told her, feeling the warmth of Regulus’ hand taking hold of yours under the table, a reassuring squeeze coming from him as you kept a dead gaze in your face.

“You’re lucky your mother was a dear friend of mine.” she hissed, standing in the middle of both chairs, just inches away from your hold onto Regulus hand “If it was up to me I wouldn’t have put up with you all this years.” Tears started burning in your eyes, the rapid blinking keeping them at bay as you tighten your grip in Regulus hand.

Of course you knew where Sirius was. Until a month ago he spoke to you like you were best friends, and in a sense you were. The sister he never wanted but ended up loving more than he knew he could love someone. But not enough to take her and his brother with him, to stick together like they had promised one another. He had made his choice and now it was your turn.

“I can only assume he is with one of his friends.” you spoke after what felt like an eternity in silence, Regulus taking a hesitant glance at you and the tear that rolled down your cheek. “Probably at the Potter’s.” you mumbled, missing the grin spreading over your guardian's face as she dismissed the both of you.

“Why did you do that?” Regulus said, barely keeping his own emotions at bay as he carefully closed the door of your room.

You sat down on your bed, patting the space next to you for him to take “It’s just you and me now.” you told him, lifting your face with unshed tears in your eyes “Sirius made his choice and now we have to do the same.” you told him.

“Mom’s going to kill him.” he told you, taking a shaky breath as soon as the words left his mouth.

You only nodded, taking him into your arms as you rubbed his back enough to ease his breathing “He killed us when he left.” you murmured in his ear “Always remember to fight fire with fire, Regulus. It’s the only way you’ll survive.”

********************************************************************

It was your last year at Hogwarts. One month and you would be thrust into the life of a full time Death Eater, the mar in your left forearm marking you for eternity to a path you couldn’t escape. And neither could Regulus.

“You were always more clever than I was.” you told him, watching as he filled page after page of parchment with information, not even giving it a second thought as he knew exactly the words he needed to plasm the knowledge in the paper.

He shook his head, dipping the quill in the pot of ink as he continued his assignment, the small smile in his face going unnoticed by everyone but you “It’s nothing.” he said “You taught me well.”

Just as you were about to answer the quiet atmosphere in the common room was disrupted. Your feet instantly bringing you up as the laughs died down as they saw you standing in the middle of the room “What are you doing here, Sirius?” you asked sharply, his grin widening as he elbowed his friends.

They all laughed loudly, your eyes falling to the flasks in their hands as you slowly but surely pulled your wand from your sleeve, Regulus walking to your side in the same stance.

“You sound just like mom.” Sirius said, the words dragged by his tongue as they all erupted in laughter once more. “Finally turned into her? Are you ready to step into your role as the new matriarch of the ancient family Black?” he mocked, saluting you as he stood straight, James and Peter imitating him as your grip tightened around your wand.

“What do you want?” you asked through gritted teeth, your arm shaking with rage as you raised your wand at them.

Remus was the only one who seemed to sober up instantly, his face falling as he reached for his giggling friends “Let’s go.” he murmured, all of them turning to you at the look in his friend’s face.

You weren’t the only one with your wand up now, Regulus stepping in front of you with a firm hand raised. The look in his eyes cold as he walked towards his brother “You think it is funny?” he asked him “You managed to escape and now we’re the enemy?” he spat the words, the Marauders now ready to duel.

“It appears we all have chosen our sides.” James said, eyes trailing down to Regulus arm, his sleeves rolled up leaving his mark out in the open.

“Stay out of it, Potter!” Regulus’ hissed, not once moving his eyes from Sirius. “Your sister asked you a question. Or have you forgotten that too, Sirius?”

“No death eater is family of mine.” Sirius grumbled under his breath, his words cutting deep into your heart as you reached for Regulus, but it was little too late.

The air buzzed with energy as Regulus shot spell after spell, Sirius and James barely keeping up with him as they blocked his attacks. You watched frozen in place, only snapping out of your trance when Remus tried to intervene with Peter at his side. Flashes of light left the tips of your wands, the possibility of someone finding you slim as it was the Slytherin room in the middle of the night. Only the Marauders being stupid enough to go there at such an hour.

It was only when Regulus stumbled back that your concentration broke, a spell hitting you on the chest as you feel back. Your face shot up in rage, reaching for your wand on the carpet as you pointed directly at James “Stupefy!” you shouted, hitting him as his body flew across the room, leaving you a clear path to Sirius.

Your movements were messy, the spells rolling off your tongue naturally as you cornered him against the wall, the tip of your wand against his throat when the only sound that could be heard was your heavy breathing.

Sirius did nothing as he waited for the spell to come out of your lips, his eyes boring deeply into your wild ones as he held his breath.

“If I see you, any of you,” you yelled, motioning your head around the room “anywhere near Regulus, I won’t be so forgiving. Do you understand?” you asked.

Lowering your wand he ran straight towards James, supporting his body against yours as they made their way out of the Slytherin common room. Not once glancing back, not another word spoken as his footsteps died in the silence of the night.

“He really hates us, doesn’t he?” Regulus asked you, straightening his clothes as he rolled his sleeves down.

“I told you before.” you said, reaching for his arm “This is not who we are, but how we survive.” you took his right hand into your left one, just like the day you both received your dark mark. Together, hand in hand.

You walked inside the room where many of the close followers of the dark lord waited for you two. Dressed in your best clothing, your mother announced your arrival with a grin in her face.

Regulus had a stoic face, not an emotion breaking to the surface as he held your hand. You on the other hand were putting up a show , a proud smirk on your face as you lifted both your arms in the air, the dark marks fresh in your young skin as your new family clapped and cheered in rejoice. Two pureblood children turned to man and woman to the dark lord’s will.

No one would ever dared doubt the both of you now.

********************************************************************

It had been years of enduring and obeying the dark lord’s commands, but your work had paid off greatly. Regulus had found his weakness and was in the path of saving the wizarding world.

You couldn’t have been prouder of him, offering himself to do the job as you played your part as his alibi. You were on your way to becoming legends.

The sound of light footsteps caught your attention as you paced in the kitchen, your mother gone for the day as you “dealt” with the house. You rushed to the hall, stumbling on the furniture there as a smile was drawn on your face “Regulus?” you called, as you turned both sides “Reg?!” you called again, eyes falling lower to the floor. “Kreacher, where is Regulus?” you asked, your heart beating faster as you felt your breath get caught in your throat as he shook his head. You left out a sob, falling to your knees as you clutched your stomach.

Loud sobs and cries left your mouth as you looked up to the elf “Where is my brother?” you asked in a whisper, the tears falling freely down your cheeks.

“Kreacher did everything he could.” he told you slowly “Master Regulus is dead, Mistress.”

“No, no…” you said in between sobs, resting your back against the wall as you choked in between sobs “NO, HE’S NOT DEAD!” you screamed, hitting the floor with your fists until blood stained the wood. Your cries echoing through the empty house until they could no longer be heard.

********************************************************************

You had begged Kreacher to take you back to the place he last saw Regulus, with no luck. His loyalty to your brother more than his fear of you. That’s how you found yourself all alone, standing over an empty grave with no one but the hope that he was listening to you.

“It should have been me.” you murmured, holding your umbrella close to you as the rain became heavier “Why did I let you go on your own?” you sobbed, using the end of your sleeve to clean your tears.

It had been a month since Kreacher arrived all alone that day, one month since you had taken your belongings and left the house you had grown to call home, leaving it empty for Walburga to find. You had become the one thing you never wanted to be, the one person you promised you would never forgive. The person walking up to you with his own tears.

“Y/N.” he called, making your entire body tense before you slowly turned his way.

“Leave.” you spat, storming his way as he stumbled back at your response “Get out of my sight.” you glared daggers at him, roaming your eyes all over his body.

“He was my brother too.” he told you shakily, looking over your shoulder at the newest grave in the place.

“So now we’re family again.” you said with a sardonic look in your face “He still had the mark in his arm, so do I.” you pulled your sleeve up, thrusting your arm in his face as he closed his eyes shut. Your arm dropping like dead weight at your side, never bothering to cover it again.

“I had to get out of there.” he tried to explain “You don’t know what it was like for me.”

“You think we lived a fairy tale? The perfect life?” you asked in disbelief.

“It was easier for you.”

“Merlin, Sirius. We had to become Death Eaters, I had to take care of Regulus, He had to kill!” you shouted, pointing angrily at the grave as you looked for his eyes.

“But of course, I’m sure being a Gryffindor was a torture, running to the Potter’s and living the dream, forgetting you even had a family.”

“It wasn’t like that and you know it!” he snapped, his eyes turning to you as tears threatened to spill at any moment.

“Oh no!” you said with a breathless laugh, shaking your head as you poked his chest “You don’t get to cry for him.”

“He is more my brother than he is yours.” he said bitterly, the pain crossing your face making him regret his words instantly, but it was too late for that.

“Then where were you the past four years, Sirius?!” you screamed “Why did you leave when I told you I had a plan to get us all out of that nightmare? Huh?” you asked in tears, seeing him frozen in place and just as you had imagined all this time: without an answer.

“I thought…” he stuttered, a rare sight in him as you stood there expectant of his answer, only for his words to die down.

“You didn’t think, Sirius.” you told him with a sigh “And if you did you only thought of yourself, as usual.” you said bitterly “We could have left that place together, but you had to be your selfish self and ruin everything for Regulus. I could have left,” you said placing a hand in your chest “But I stayed for him. And you left for yourself.”

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled after a long minute of silence, a tear dropping from his lashes on his cheek.

You walked to stand beside him, leaning to his side “I want you to drown in tears of guilt.” you whispered in his ear, glancing slowly to his face. You met his eyes before your gaze fell on the tear resting against his skin. “I want you to choke on your own tears as you realize you have no right to be here.” you said, brushing your thumb over the tear rolling down his face “You don’t get to cry, Sirius.”

TAGS:

Skittles @fanficflaneuse @nebulablakemurphy @lupins-sweater @accio-rogers @gloriousrebelrunaway @slytherinprincess03 @not-today-anxiety @strawberriesonsummer @infinity1o1 @haphazardhufflepuff @deafgirltingz @summer-writes @herstory-study @peeves-a-legend

#sirius black #young sirius black #regulus black #sirius x sister!reader #regulus x sister!reader #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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world-of-aus · 4 years ago

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Family Matters - (Part 3)

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Reader

Word Count:3,334

Warnings: manhandling, a surprise twist!

Author’s Note: Chapter 3! Updates for this series will be every Wednesday and Fridays! Thank you all for reading, liking, commenting, and reblogging, all of that means so much to me! - xoxo

Chapter 2 / SERIES MASTERLIST

You go to flee but his hands are quicker, he grabs a hold of your biceps squeezing tightly keeping you from moving, a pained groan slips past your lips. The bearded golden blonde from before is surging forward, taking big steps as he closes the distance between the two of you. You cower in fear, your body pressing into the wall of muscle behind you, he stares down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips, “well, well, well, look what the cat drug in,” he grins, “wait till boss gets a load of you.”

His eyes move away from your fearful face to the cold set of eyes behind yours, “bring her in, don’t want to keep the boss waiting.”

“W-wait no please,” you cried pushing against the solid block of muscle.

The fingers tightened on your skin causing a whimper to fall from your lips, “start moving, or I’ll move you myself,” the voice hissed in your ear, “and trust me, you don’t want me to have to move you.”

Another whimper falls from your lips as your painfully pushed forward. You follow the man in front of you on shaky legs as the broad man from behind pushes you through the threshold down to the forbidden corridor.

He thrusts you through the open French doors of your fathers office.

“She’s here boss,” the golden blonde speaks up.

You watch with baited breath as your fathers chair turns, your breath catches in your throat.

Thick, lustrous, tousled, dark brown hair framed his chiseled face, strong and defined, his features molded from granite. His eyes a deep mesmerizing ocean blue accompanied with streaks of the lightest grey throughout. Dark brows were sloped in question, lips drawn in a hard line across his face, you cowered under his stare. Strong hands pointed to the seat in front of him, “sit” he commanded.

You swallowed unmoving, his features molded immediately to one of anger, “you’d be wise to listen,” he murmured darkly. Finger nails pressed harder into your skin, indented crescents sure to be left behind, “move it,” the man behind you grunted, shoving you forward. You gasped catching yourself on the chair, the man before you had requested of you to sit in. On shaky legs you rounded the chair, adjusting yourself onto it, your fingers stark white from the grip you had on the bottom of it.

The man before you ran a hand over his face, thumb brushing over his chin as he drank you in. He cleared his throat, his hand pointing to the man that still loomed behind you, “you can go,”

His eyes were still on your shaking form, “It’s truly unfortunate to have to have met under these circumstances,” he began leaning forward on his arms, “so sorry for your loss, such a tragic thing to have occurred,” he cooed.

You sat there eyes blown wide, body shivering in fear, “w-who are you?”

A smirk pulled at the corner of the man’s lips, “m’ sorry where are my manners,” he grinned, “the names James Buchanan Barnes, though I’m sure daddy told you about me didn’t he?”

A knot formed in your throat, face paling, a low chuckled brewed from within him, “you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and I might as well be looking at one from what your father informed me of,” he paused raising a brow at you, “you are y/f/n y/l/n aren’t you?”

You nodded your head numbly, “well I'll be damned, looks like your father was a liar, thief, and traitor all in one, no wonder Pierce had him on such a tight leash,”

The room began to spin your ears ringing; James caught on, his fingers snapping off to your side, strong hands gripped at your shoulders keeping you upright in the chair. Your head lolled side to side, as you tried to clear the disorientation away. You shook your head, “please, I- I don’t” you sucked in a breath of air, “I d-didn't please”

“Get her to the couch, now,” he demanded to the man behind you.

Hands were finding there way from your shoulders to under your arms as they lifted you up. You held onto the hands for dear life as you stumbled your way to the lush leather couch, your head falling into the cooled material beneath you. A shaky sigh left your lips, the hidden secrets of your fathers luxurious life style was all coming to surface, and you were caught in the crossfire of it all seemed, and you had been unaware of it all. Taking in deep shaky breaths you attempted to calm your nerves, you knew they would do you know good in this unforeseen situation.

You felt the couch dip next to you, a glass of water held out to you, you looked from the glass to the man offering it to you, “it’s water,” he murmured, an impatient sigh left his lips when you made no move to grab it from his outstretched hand, “I take it you're not as easily swayed as your impressionable father was?”

You shook your head, “please, I had no idea what my father did in this home, I want nothing to do with any of it, you can have it all, I'll sign it over to you, just please,” you pleaded.

James barked out a laugh shaking his head, “you really expect me to believe that you had no part in your father’s plan, that man was a rat, no offense,” he muttered, “your father obviously couldn’t be trusted,” he slid closer than, your frame shrinking into the cushions as his stormy eyes bore into you, “so tell me, what makes you so different?”

You didn’t know if there was any convincing this man, obviously your father had betrayed him in unimaginable ways, but you knew you needed to try if you wanted to get out of this.

“I swear I didn’t know, my father never allowed me down these corridors when he was down here, it was forbidden to me, my father would never let me hear the end of it if I was caught down here, please,” you pleaded once more, “I swear I didn’t know what my father was doing behind these closed doors.”

James went to open his mouth but was cut off, when three raps sounded at the open office doors, his eyes moved from your’s to the doorway, “he’s here,” grunted the man from earlier. A cheshire grin overtook his face, he rubbed his hands together as he looked at you once more, “shall we get started?”

Your dragged from your father’s office, to your kitchen table where many nights you had spent sitting alone with your mother over one of her specialty meals.

“ouch, you’re hurting me!” you whined to the man that had man handled you from before, as he forcefully pushed you into the chair directly across from the two other men in the room. He hovered over you a snarl leaving his lips, you cowered in fear.

“Enough!” a voice barked out, your head shot up in fear.

James who had been previously sitting next to Wilson the man from earlier, was now looming at the table fists clenched on the wooden surface, “have some damn respect,” he hissed at the man, “or do you need to have a talk with Steve again?” He growled.

The wicked mans face fell, a look of fear overtaking his features, “ n-no boss won’t be necessary,”

“Good,” he grunted “get out and send Steve in,”

The burly man practically bolted from his spot next to you, the golden blonde entering the room picking a spot right at the doorway, a menacing glare aimed at you.

Your head is snapping back at the sound of someone clearing their throat, Sam is looking over at you through the rim of his glasses, “shall we begin?” he questions.

“right,” he starts, “as I've already informed Ms. Y/l/n you are the co-owner of this house, and with the tragic passing of her parents, the father’s half has gone off to her in a will,” he informed Barnes, “Ms. Y/l/n has informed me that she would like to just sign over all rights to you, apparently she no longer resides in the area and does not wish to have any ties to this area.”

James turns to face Sam, his hand on his chin his brows furrowed deeply, “did you tell her about her father and what he owes me?”

Sam sighed running a hand over his head, his fingers working off his glasses as he stared back at the man annoyed, “no Buck it didn’t cross my mind, she was already shaken up coming into my office you really want me throwing that on her, she probably would have bolted the second I laid out that contract her father signed?”

You cleared your throat, “excuse me gentleman but I’m sitting right here,” you gritted out, “if it regards my father, it obviously regards me, so either of you mind telling me what it is my father signed”

Bucky turned to look at you his head cocked to the side as he eyed you, “I’m sorry,” he started, “for a second there it sounded like you were telling us what to do,” he shifted his body to fully face you now, “you don’t get to ask the questions y/n”

You could feel your fear be replaced by anger, you had had enough of people belittling you because of who your father was, and apparently how he lived his life, you’d be damned if you stayed in his shadow, enough was enough, you would not be quieted.

“Listen here Barnes,” you snarled, “I’m not sure what relation my father had with you but I can assure you I was unaware of it, I lived my life locked away in my room, aside from the times he would send me and my mother out of the house,” he opened his mouth but you cut him off, “and another thing, I've had just about enough of you men telling me what you think you know about me, when in reality you don’t know the half of it,” you gritted out, “my father may have lived his life a certain way but I can assure you I had no part in it, and I definitely had no say when my father kicked me from this very home at the ripe age of 18!” you hissed, “so yes you can believe what you want, but I will not allow you to further disrespect me, I have in a single night lost both my parents who I have not spoken with since I was 18 that was seven fucking years ago, and I get here only to find that my dad was involved with the mafia, he owes some asshole money which apparently he planned to collect, and oh get this you, you” you gritted pointing your fingers at him “you are the co-owner of this house again something I was unaware of.”

You were heaving with rage by the time you got all the words that had brewed inside of you, James seemed unbothered by your little explosive episode.

“you done doll?” he questioned bored.

“don’t call me d-”

His fist met the table startling you into silence, “i think you’ve said enough,” he hissed, “it’s my turn to speak, so you’re going to sit there and you’re going to listen got it?” he questioned brow raised.

“do you understand?” he questioned again when you didn’t give him a response the first time.

You nodded your head, “you see y/n you brought up a great point in your petty little rant, and that was that your father owed money to some asshole,” he was grinning devishly then, “and do you know who that asshole he owed money to was?” he questioned through gritted teeth, you didn’t answer but inside you were filled with dread because you knew the words that would come out of his mouth would not be good, “awe why so quiet now sweetheart, you had a lot to say just now, what happened, cat got your tongue?” he scoffed, “that asshole y/n was me, and your father still to this day had yet to pay me my money that he stole because if it had been borrowed I would have seen it,” he stood from his chair, “see about seven years ago, I paid your little daddy a visit, and I told him he either pay me my money or that contract he signed after signing the one to this house, would be valid, and I would take the one thing he promised to hand over if he couldn’t comply, did daddy dearest ever tell you what it was he wagered or are we going to keep playing this victim card you y/l/n’s seem to be real good at”

You were scared again, you shook your head not trusting your voice, “see daddy owed not only money to me, but that old man also owed, Pierce and Rumlow,” your skin was vibrating in fear, the names of all the men detective Stark had mentioned were coming up. The thing is those two fools didn’t think of a way to collect seeing as he worked for them, so regardless they would get their money one way or another, thing is your father decided to play with fire when he asked for my help, and well I needed to make sure I was going to get my money back so I had my good friend Wilson here,” he said patting Sam on the back, “i had him work up a contract with your father, and in that contract it was stated that If he could not get me money after sometime, that he would have to give up whatever he had promised on that contract, and man would you believe what that old man put,”

Your hands were shaking in your lap, he leaned forward then, eyes menacing, “that old bastard promised me,” he gestured towards himself, “he promised me that if when the time came to collect and he didn’t have the money, that you,” his finger turned to you, “ you would be handed to me.”

Your face paled, you father wouldn’t do such a thing, he was a mean man, but there was just no way he could be this vile.

“t-that c-can't be,” you replied shakily, “my father would never”

“oh no?” he questioned, “then I guess you didn’t know daddy to well,” he muttered sliding a file towards you.

Your shaky hands reached for the file, you opened it looking over the contents, a shaky sob left your lips. Your father had actually done it, he had actually signed you off to this man if he wasn’t able to pay him his money. You shoved the file away from you looking up at the two men with watery eyes, “please, you don’t have to do this, I'll,” you chocked back a sob, “I'll find a way to fix his mess, just please,”

“now wait just a damn minute,” Bucky cut you off, “you father may have promised you to me, but I'm not sleazy like your old man,”

You wanted to sigh in relief but you knew there was something he was holding back from you something he wasn’t telling you, and from how your day had been going you were sure it wouldn’t be any good either.

“now I'm going to need you to just sit a second longer, and my good friend Sam is going to explain something to you, and trust me when I say it is in your best interest to take into account everything he is about to explain to you,”

Looking to Sam you waited, the dread coursing through you, “Now Ms. Y/l/n when Mr. Barnes initially found out what you father had signed over if he was to have to come collect, I can assure you he was angered at the audacity your father had to sign your name on that line,” he eyed you, “Mr. Barnes still has a means to collect, but he’s chosen to go about it a different way, it’s in regards to this house,” he added.

“he can have it; he can take whatever he wants pl-” Bucky sent you a look efficiently cutting you off.

“as I was saying, Mr. Barnes met with me months prior to all this with the beliefs that you were no longer in the picture and his original intention was to just collect the house when your father had given him word that you had passed tragically one day,” he paused, “upon hearing of your return recently and that it was actually you in the flesh, Mr. Barnes decided he wanted to change the means of your fathers contract,” he sighed rubbing at his temples slightly, “Mr. Barnes has asked me to inform you that he will settle your father’s debt IF and only IF you agree to take owner ship of the home with him-”

“I can do that,” you cut him off.

Sam sighed, “please let me finish,” he muttered, “you would be taking your father’s ownership, but you must also come home, and you must stay here in this home,”

You were taken aback, “excuse me?” you questioned, you were getting upset again, “you can’t possibly do that, you can’t make me agree to any of this this is-”

“Now Ms. Y/l/n it would be in your best interest to agree to this, there is no other way,”

You scoffed looking over at Bucky, “how is there no other way, you can’t just force me to come home, and make me stay here,”

“Steve, Sam, would you give me and y/n a couple of seconds” Sam stood wordlessly following Steve out of the kitchen. Bucky rounded the table, “Look y/n, you can either do it this way, or I will collect the way I originally intended and I can promise you doll, you don’t want me to do that, I'm offering you a home, safety from the goons your father worked for, and a worry free life, this would all be yours at no cost to you, so long as you do as I say, and all you’d have to do is sign,”

“y-you can’t ask that of me, I don’t have to agree to any of this, I'll go to Detective Stark”

Bucky threw his head back in a howl of laughter, “sweetheart, I'm not asking anymore,” he replied the smile vanishing from his features, “I've been done asking, now” he spoke again his voice much lower, leaning in closer “I'm going to have my men come back in and we’re going to get this contract signed, I'm honestly doing you a favor here, you have nobody left, mommy, daddy, all your family is gone y/n, there’s no one for you to go back to, no one for you to run too, so it would be in your best interest to be the good little girl we all know you to be and sign that name of yours right next to mine on that contract,”

You swallowed, you were terrified of the repercussions that might come if you didn’t agree, and he was right, you had nobody left, so this couldn’t possibly be any worse. A shaky sigh left your lips, “fine, I'll sign,” you murmured lowly.

Bucky was grinning wolfishly, “that’s my girl,”

You moved away from him glaring, “I'm not your girl” you hissed.

“the contract say’s otherwise,”

You cocked your head at his words, but weren’t able to question him as he beckoned for his men.

Sam, Steve trailed in, Detective Stark following in behind them, Bucky grinned at your confused expression, “w-what is he doing here?” you whispered.

“oh Detective Stark?” he questioned a smirk pulling at his lips, “he’s here as a witness,”

Chapter 4

Family Matter’s Tag-list: @broco8 @spideyxxboi @scuzmunkie @person-born-winchester @jennisahoe @rougeone0911 @ilovesupersoldiers @loveofmychips

#family matters #bucky x reader #bucky x you #mobster!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #mobster!bucky barnes series #mobster!bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes series au #marvel au #marvel au series #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction au

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eclecticstarlightconnoisseur · 4 years ago

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EDINBURGH TO BOSTON -CHAPTER 20 - PERMANENCE

Edinburgh to Boston

Chapter 20

Permanence

Hello all, Here is chapter 20 of Edinburgh to Boston. There are several things that you need to know when you read this. It begins directly after the King’s Gambit. In fact it is the same day. We pick up after Jamie teased Claire in bed. The chapter encompasses several days. It starts on a Tuesday and ends on Sunday night before they return to work on Monday morning. There is some concern that readers could get lost because of the changing days, so I just labeled each section with the day of the week for convenience.

I want to thank scubalass as always for her work as the beta, which is not an easy task. I can be pigheaded at times.

I give you Edinburgh to Boston, Chapter 20, Permanence. For better or worse, here goes nothing.

Tuesday afternoon:

“Come here mo chridhe, ” he beamed holding open his arms to her.

Claire eyed him suspiciously, “What are you planning to do?”

“I want tae kiss ye, ” he chuckled.

“Oh no, you don't. You're not going to get me all riled up again and not finish the job. I'm no fool you know.”

“Never thought ye were. I just thought we could start at the beginning and see where it takes us,” he proposed as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “Sound like a plan?”

Claire launched herself into his arms, ”Aye, that sounds wonderful.”

They were entwined in each other’s arms luxuriating in the closeness. He stroked her with a practiced hand. Caressing her. Adoring her. Whispering words of love in her ear. They kissed and ignited an inferno. They burned bright and hot becoming blazing twin suns. He moved over her covering her body, He wanted to possess her body and soul.

“Ye are mine, Sassenach. Now and forever. Body and soul. Whether ye will it or no’. Mine.”

“Yours,” she whimpered.

And loved her tenderly, then furiously until they were sated and sleepy.

Claire yawned contentedly, “I never knew playing chess could make you so tired.”

Jamie chuckled, “‘Tis a verra rigorous game.” He pulled her against his chest wrapping his arms around her. They closed their eyes and fell into a blissful sleep.

The bedroom door opened without a sound. Claire crept into the room, careful to not wake a sleeping Jamie. He was still napping after their “chess game”. Quietly, she pulled the drapes closed muting the vibrant mid-afternoon sunlight so not to disturb his slumber.

She brought a cup of tea with her and placed it on the bedside table. After arranging pillows against the headboard to lean on, she eased herself onto the bed making herself comfortable sitting with one leg tucked under the other. Normally, she would drink her tea in the kitchen or sitting room, but today was Saturday. This was her last full day with Jamie before returning to her flat, and she didn’t want to miss a single second with him. She shook her head admitting that thought was utter rubbish. After all, she would be seeing him every day at the hospital. But she would be spending time with him as a professional colleague and not on the intimate level they shared this week.

Fragrant tendrils of steam rose around her as she inhaled the familiar bouquet. Oolong. She was pleased that Jamie liked it too. She sipped the tea savoring the taste. It was slightly sweet, fruity, with a honey aroma. What could be better than drinking your favorite tea in bed and watching your lover sleep? And she did love to watch him whether asleep or awake.

She turned to see him asleep on his back, arms crossed over his chest looking like one of the carved figures on the sarcophagi she had seen in Egypt with Lamb. His full lips were slightly parted as he breathed softly through his mouth.

Suddenly, he became restless, muttering something in Gàidhlig. A tender look crossed Claire’s face as she brushed away the curls that fell over his forehead.

“Shhh, I’m here,” she comforted.

Jamie calmed; a smile crossed his face for the briefest of moments, then vanished. His breathing evened and his face relaxed as he descended into a deeper slumber. Her forehead crinkled in fascination as she stroked his hair once more only to watch his smile reappear then disappear as it had before.

“I love you, Jamie Fraser,” she whispered. “I knew from the moment you were introduced during the staff meeting that you would carry my heart in your hands.”

The conference room had several areas that one could hide in and not be seen. Claire took her usual spot where she could work on her messages without being observed. Another useless weekly faculty meeting. The Chief droned on about creating the preeminent Cardiothoracic Service in the entire U. K. To this end he hired an up and coming surgeon to join the team. He would bring new energy to the stalled department. The Chief extolled the accomplishments, awards, and research activities of the new team member.

There had been many applicants for the position. Claire wondered who he had chosen. It certainly wasn’t the woman she had suggested.

“I would like to introduce you to Dr. James Fraser. Come up here dear boy.”

A giant of a man rose from his seat in the audience gracefully striding toward the podium.

The two men shook hands exchanging general pleasantries.

“On behalf of the department, I extend our warmest welcome and wish you much success,” droned the Chief. “I’m turning the microphone over to Dr. Fraser for a few words.”

The first thing Claire noticed was his voice. It was deep, smooth, luxurious, and warm. It flowed over her wrapping around her like a favorite blanket. She noticed a definite burr to it that vibrated with command.

She couldn't see from her vantage point causing her to shift her position a few chairs over.

Claire looked up and saw the most beautiful man she had ever seen. He was tall with fiery red hair and the deepest blue eyes. He was engaging, serious when it called for it, and charming. The audience was enthralled.

After he finished speaking Dr. Sandringham returned to the podium.

“You may have heard, the hospital has decided on a trial of pairing surgeons together as a measure to improve quality care in a cost effective manner. In our department two surgeons have been chosen to pilot this new program based on my recommendations. The two surgeons designated to lead this programme are Dr. Fraser and Dr. Beauchamp. Claire, where are you, my dear? Come and meet Dr. Fraser.”

Claire’s mouth hung open like a landed fish unable to believe what she heard. She had overheard the rumors about some trial programme partnering surgeons together. “Sandringham! Up to his old tricks,” she thought. “Well, he would not get away with this one. He thought he could stick the newbie on her, but she already was overworked. Why not have MacPherson do it? He sits all day watching the Scottish stock market while she’s busy operating, doing the consults, or running a clinic. Claire decided she wouldn’t let the Chief get away with it this time. She would tell him to bloody well find someone else to hold hands with Fraser, was it?” Closing her mouth she slowly stood. Her hands flew to her hair, trying to smooth it into place but knew it was useless to try.

She walked up to Fraser and immediately got lost in his blue eyes. Claire made a little gasping noise then extended her hand, “Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp. I guess you’re stuck with me.” She blushed crimson red. Something she hadn't done since her youth.

He took her hand in his massive ones tipping his head toward her, “James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser. At your service and I assure you the pleasure is all mine.”

At that moment, something passed between them. The attraction between them was magnetic. It pulled at them speaking of a time yet to come, of words yet unsaid, and of things yet to happen. The force drew them as if they were pieces of lodestone being pushed together. They gazed at each other wondering if the other felt it too.

Dr. Fraser reluctantly let go of her hand, gave her a lopsided smile, “I look forward to our first case together, Dr. Beauchamp.”

Claire never did have that conservation with Sandringham. It was the best thing she never did. She smiled at the recollection of their meeting and slid down to curl into his side. Her head came to rest on his chest while her leg found its way over his. She found contentment and peace lying next to Jamie. She felt at home. Home. Now that was a strange concept to her. She and Lamb lived life like a pair of gypsies, never having the opportunity to put down roots. She enjoyed her travels with Lamb. It was fun and fascinating like being on perpetual vacation. There was, however, something missing in her life. A place to call her own. A place where she could leave her imprint. Like owning that blue and white vase she had seen during her travels years ago. If she only had a home to display it in. It would say, ‘Claire lives here.’ The idealization of home represented a place where she could feel safe, secure, and happy. She had hoped that she could have made that a reality with Frank, but that was not to be.

Jamie grunted then turned to his side pulling Claire into the refuge of his arms.

Then it struck her. Safe, secure, and happy within his arms. Home did not have to be only a physical place or structure. It could be a person too. Smiling broadly, she realized that she could wander the face of the earth with Jamie for the rest of her life and still be home. He was her home now. She basked in the warmth of his embrace, knowing she truly had found her home at last.

Looking at her suitcase in the corner, Claire thought it probably a good idea to leave a few things here since she would stay here on occasion. She mentally reviewed its contents deciding on what she should keep here.

Her thoughts drifted toward her flat. It was “home” but the space seemed rather plain and utilitarian. Just a place for her to eat, keep her clothes, and sleep. She had little interest in decorating the place since she never had company. To be honest, she never wanted company or invited anyone over. Claire had been content living her solitary life with Ginger, but now everything has changed. Ought she spruce the place up? What about new drapes for more privacy? At least new bed linens, towels for the bathroom. Maybe a throw rug and a few pillows would be nice. She didn’t want Jamie to think she lived like some cloistered nun.

Claire froze. Perhaps she should reciprocate and make room for him if he wanted to leave some things there. Would he even want to come over to her place? She began to bite her lip with worry. God, this was all so new and she didn’t know how to handle it.

“Mo neighan donn, yer thinking so hard I can hear ye.”

Claire startled at his voice, “I’m sorry did I wake you?” She turned to face Jamie looking directly into his sapphire eyes.

“Nah, ye dinna wake me, but are ye alright?”

“Oh, I’m fine, just lost in thought.”

“About what, my own? ‘Tis it serious?”

“No, no, no. Just deciding on what to leave here. And reciprocating for you at my place. If you would want to stay that is,” she asked shyly.

“Is yer bed big enough? Ye ken I need a lot of room,” he smirked, giving her a lustful look.

“Was he asking if it was big enough to fit him or was he asked about something else, Claire wondered.”

“I do believe... I’m sure it’s... Fine. Yes,it’s fine. Um, what are we talking about?”

“Yer bed, Sassenach. I wanted to know if it’s big.” He pulled her into his embrace, pressing his hips against her belly.

Claire felt the length of his arousal. “I think it will be more than satisfactory.”

“I would be delighted to spend the night at yer place anytime yer willing to have me,” he smoldered at her.

“Good, very good,” she babbled into his lips.

“Aye, ‘tis good indeed.”

They snuggled together enjoying the quiet and the feel of each other.

Jamie leaned down to place a kiss on Claire’s brow. It was creased and furrowed. He felt her tense for a moment then relax.

“Claire.”

“Hm?”

“What else is on yer mind? Ye canna hide it, something else is bothering ye. It’s written all over yer face. Ye ken ye can tell me anything.” His finger traced a line over her cheek trying to soothe her.

Claire tipped her head forward and her hair slid across her face like a veil protecting her from his scrutiny, “You know what the rule of thumb is with sexual partners? You not only slept with your partner but with everyone they previously slept with.” Her eyes shied away unable to settle on him. Swallowing the lump in her throat she continued, “As you recall I went to Lamb’s after Frank raped me,” she stopped and took a deep breath to gather her strength again. “Lamb convinced me to go to the hospital. I told the examining doctor that I had evidence that Frank had multiple partners. So, I was tested for every conceivable STD, and by some miracle, everything turned up negative,” she exhaled. “I had them all repeated when I got back to Scotland after the divorce. Again, everything was negative. I just wanted you to know that I am clean. I should have told this sooner, Jamie. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

She searched his placid blue eyes hoping to find understanding.

The look of him described his mood, eyebrows pulled down together and his lips narrowed forming thin lines. The very picture of anger. Not because of what she told him. But because he hoped they left the ugliness of Frank behind them. But he should have realized that after her past and current trauma more revelations would arise over time. All he could do was be there for her to support her. And he would for as long as she needed him to.

He cleared his throat, “Since we are talking of such things, ye may as well know that I have been tested too. All negative. And I havenae been with anyone else since I have been tested.”

Jamie stopped and looked at Claire. She still had a troubled look about her.

“Do ye have something else ye want to tell me?”

She gave him a sidelong look, “I brought this up because we have not practiced safe sex.” She paused waiting to see if anything registered with him.

“Aye, ‘tis so and...”

“I have an IUD Jamie. I didn’t want to have children with Frank. Things became more and more unsettled between us and I didn’t want to bring a child into that relationship. My residency, my fellowship. It all seemed too much. So we don’t have to worry about birth control either.”

Jamie went a pale, ashy color. Christ, he didn’t think. He really didn’t think. He lusted after her just like a stag during the rut. No thought of the consequences for her. No, he only thought about himself and wanting her. He felt ashamed.

“Claire, I’m sorry. I dinna think. I just wanted ye so bad. And me a doctor. I should have…”

Claire raised a finger to his lips to silence him. “It’s alright. And I wanted you too. I don’t know if I could have stopped myself either Truthfully, we both share the blame. We should have spoken about this beforehand. I should have told you sooner about the IUD.”

She quieted allowing a few moments to pass before speaking again, “There is nothing to worry about. We’re both young and healthy. Except for your penchant for getting injured,” she quipped giving him a sly look.

“Then ‘tis a good thing I’m in love with a doctor so ye can tend my wounds,” he smirked giving her a crooked smile.

“Is that why you want me? So I can tend your wounds.”

“Nay Sassenach. I want ye because I love ye. Now enough talk, just let me hold ye,” as he pulled her closer to his chest.

******************

Time is an ethereal thing. It flies swiftly as if borne on the wings of Mercury. Try to grasp it and it will slide through your fingers like grains of sand. For lovers, time is but an enemy. Always pushing the present into the past making the now just a sweet memory.

Wednesday morning broke clear and sunny, but a dark cloud hovered over Jamie. Four more days. That’s all that he had left with his Sassenach. Four days. Then Claire would return to her own flat on Sunday. Time took on a sense of urgency for Jamie Fraser. He was sorry about what happened in Boston, but it worked out, in his point of view, for the best. Leaving Boston early gave him these four days with her all to himself. And he would not waste a single second of this precious time with his Claire.

Beauchamp had always been something of a recluse, never socializing with other staff members. He knew her habits and wants intimately in the operating room, but privately not very well. He knew how she liked her coffee, which scones were her favorite, and she ate whatever she liked without gaining an ounce. She liked to sleep on the left side of the bed. There were, however, a myriad of other things he did not know about her. If he wanted to take care of her, and he did, he would need to know more about her. Uncovering the mystery of Claire Beauchamp would become his life’s mission. He decided they would spend their remaining time together doing as new lovers do, learning the ways of each other.

Each day for their remaining time, the couple did everything together.

The mornings were spent together making breakfast. Claire would bake a batch of scones. Jamie would scramble the eggs while the requisite parritach bubbled and burped in its pot. They teased each other, stealing glances, and small touches as they worked together. It made for a thoroughly enjoyable way to start the day.

They spent their days talking about their lives, family, and adventures. Jamie told Claire tales of the highlands acting out parts of the story, making her laugh until her sides would ache and tears streamed down her face. Hearing that Claire had never read The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings Jamie took it upon himself to rectify this breach in her knowledge of fine literature. He would read to her, complete with the required sound effects and character voices, as she laid on the settee with her head in his lap. Claire pronounced the book as their book. They watched the telly poking fun at each other's choice of programmes. And they played chess over, and over, and over again never managing to finish a single game.

That was the way of it until Saturday morning arrived…

Jamie rose before Claire deciding they would do something a little different today. It was something he wanted to do for her and he hoped it would please her.

Claire awoke to feel quite refreshed as she stretched luxuriously. The duvet slid from her body exposing her breasts to the chilled air of the room and her nipples instantly hardened. She chuckled to herself debating the value of leaving a nightgown and pyjamas here since she always ends up sleeping naked next to Jamie. Going to the en-suite, she quickly showered then brushed her teeth. Sneaking a peek at her hair, she sighed then wrestled it into submission. She put on one of Jamie’s old tee-shirts (which she knew she would take home with her) and padded out into the kitchen. Jamie was not there and breakfast had not been prepared.

“Jamie?”

“In here, Sassenach.”

Claire followed the sound of his voice finding him sitting on the settee fully dressed in jeans, jumper, and boots. His jacket, scarf, and cap were draped over a chair waiting for him.

“Are you going somewhere,” she inquired.

“We,” he emphasized, “are going somewhere. We have been in this flat since we arrived back in Edinburgh on Monday and I thought it would be nice tae take a walk. Besides that, I have some things that I need tae attend tae. I made ye yer coffee. Drink it as ye get dressed, aye?”

She grabbed her coffee and took a drink of the dark rich brew as she hurried off to get dressed all while wondering what Jamie had on his mind. She dressed quickly pulling on her skinny jeans, a jumper, and her boots. Claire did not remember packing these jeans but happy that she did. She turned to look in the mirror observing her bum and she liked what she saw. She smiled smugly and knew Jamie would like it too. She stuffed her hair up into her hat, wrapped a scarf around her neck, then grabbed her coat.

After depositing her cup in the sink, Claire found Jamie standing at the door with his coat on. She twirled for him, “Do I look alright for our day out?”

He looked at her, admiring how her jeans fit over that magnificent arse wondering if going out was truly a good idea or not.

Jamie swallowed hard, “Aye, ye look verra bonnie.” He held open the door bowing to Claire,” Come along Sassenach the day awaits us,” he urged her out the door before he changed his mind.

For a winter day in Edinburgh, it seemed rather warm. Still, the air had a deliciously crisp and refreshing feel. Jamie reached out, took hold of Claire’s hand, and knitted their fingers together.

Dr. Fraser was well known in the neighbourhood. People, shopkeepers called out to wish him good-day. Heads bent low chattering away like a clan of sparrows that the good doctor had a lady. Jamie smiled knowing full well what the gossips whispered in hushed tones. He grinned as he took his arm and wrapped it around Claire’s shoulder pulling her into his side as close as possible. Let’s give the old bletherskates something to talk about, he thought. And he bent, placing a kiss on Claire’s crown. Mine, he thought and he wanted the whole world to know it.

Claire looked up at him as she snuggled closer to his side.

They stopped in different shops along the street, picking and choosing things they liked. Jamie bought another book to also become their book. Chess had already become their game, but adding another wouldn’t hurt. Or two or three. Jamie smirked wondering how they could get creative with the new games. So the day went, they walked from shop to shop choosing things that they both liked destined to become theirs.

“Dr. Fraser! Dr. Beauchamp!” they heard a voice call out.

They turned in the direction of the voice. Jamie on seeing the man broke out into a broad smile.

“A charaid!” he returned the call. “Come, Claire,” he urged tugging at her hand.

A tall balding man of slim wiry build and merry blue eyes stood outside a florist shop waving excitedly at them.

Jamie and the man clasped each other’s hands engaging in a rapid handshake and back-slapping in the manner of old friends.

“Claire, ye remember Ewan MacDonald, do ye no’? We operated on his Da, Graeme, last year. ‘Twas a triple bypass if I recall correctly.”

“Why yes, I do recall. How are you Ewan and your father, how is he doing?” Claire inquired as she took hold of his hand.

“Ach, he’s braw Dr. Beauchamp, just braw, thanks tae ye and Dr. Fraser. Some days we need tae remind him that he’s 80. Always on the go. ‘Tis a sight tae behold,” he grinned. “Where are me manners? Why do ye no come into me shop for a bit and warm-up?” Ewan offered.

“Tapadh leibh,” Jamie smiled. He placed his hand on the small of Claire’s back encouraging her to go forward.

It was like being magically transported from the chill of winter to the warmth and beauty of summer. The shop was perfumed with the scent of fresh-cut flowers, flowers growing in pots, small and large potted foliage plants, dish gardens, and terrariums. An assortment of plain clay pots as well as hand-painted terra cotta planters were scattered around the workbench. In an out of the way corner of the shop exquisite vases could be found for sale.

Claire spied a young woman caring for seedlings sprouting under grow-lights. “If you gentlemen would not mind, I would like to look around,” she said happily.

“Of course, Dr. Beauchamp. Enjoy yerself,” replied Ewan.

Jamie called to her as she turned to walk away, “Claire, I dinna ken what yer favorite flower is. Could ye tell me?”

“Well, I love all flowers. But, you will think me silly if I told you what my favorite flower is.”

“Yer no’ a silly woman, Beauchamp. Tell me.”

“It’s forget-me-nots.”

“Forget-me-nots? No’ a rose or an orchid or something like that?” Jamie looked puzzled.

“No, forget-me-nots. I planted them on my parents and Uncle Lamb’s graves. The flowers mean remembrance when people are parted or after death,” her face and voice becoming solemn. After a moment, Claire added, “But, they also represent a growing affection between two people, as well as true and undying love.” She looked into his eyes, as blue as the forget-me-nots she spoke of. “So, my favorite flower is the forget-me-not, ” Claire smiled and turned away to join the woman working with the seedlings.

Silent communication crossed between the two men. Jamie raised his eyebrows in question while Ewan vehemently shook his head no. Jamie glared at him, his lips becoming thin. He would not take no for an answer.

“‘Tis winter,” Ewan hissed.

“Aye, ‘tis winter for sure,” Jamie confirmed.

“I dinna ken where I can find any!”

Both men turned their gaze toward her. Claire glowed with happiness. As she spoke, her graceful hands fluttered animatedly as she described something to the woman.

Ewan turned to look at Jamie and saw his love for her written all over his face as he watched her.

“Ye love her!” Ewan exclaimed in a soft low voice.

“Does it show much?”

“That it does, mo charaid, that it does,” he chuckled while shaking his head. “And the ladies of the neighbourhood thought ye to be a lifelong bachelor,” he snorted. Ewan sighed heavily, rolled his eyes toward heaven then shook his head yes. “Fer ye and Dr. Beauchamp, aye, I’ll make it happen. I ken a man, a horticulturist by the name of John Bartram, who may have what ye want.” Ewan paused, “He’ll have tae overnight them. It can be pricey, ye ken?”

Jamie nodded in agreement and clapped the man on the shoulder, “For Monday morning, aye? ‘Tis our first day back tae work and I’d like tae have a wee posy tae leave on her desk. ”

“Aye Dr. Fraser. Monday ‘tis.”

Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp was a woman of science and did not believe in luck, chance, or coincidence. If such things existed, they didn’t apply to her. It was odd that only this morning she thought of the blue and white Chinese vase she wanted to buy all those years ago. How was it that by some strange twist of fate its twin is sitting on the upper shelf of a florist shop in Edinburgh? She gravitated over to where the vases were for a closer look. Could some serendipitous force have led her and Jamie to this shop today? Perhaps today if luck did exist it would favour her after all. Maybe this was a second chance to have it and this time it would not slip through her fingers.

Jamie saw Claire looking at the vase covetously. He drew Ewan’s attention to the vase pointing at it with his chin. Whispering to him, “Put it in a bag for me will ye?”

“Aye, Dr. Fraser.”

“Claire,” Jamie called to her. “‘Tis time for lunch. My wame is empty.”

“I’d like to speak to Ewan before we go, alright?”

“Ewan, that blue and white vase you have on the second shelf I’d like to buy it.”

“Oh, Dr. Beauchamp, I am sae sorry. It should not be there. Someone else purchased it. I just forgot tae take it down. In fact, the person is coming today tae pick it up,” Ewan said as he reached to take it down. “Siusan, would ye be sae kind as tae wrap this up.”

A look of pained disappointment slipped across Claire’s features at the news.

“I dinna ken ye sold this vase, Ewan.”

Ewan scowled at his shop girl. “I just did tae Dr. Fraser. ‘Tis a gift,” he whispered as he tipped his head toward Claire.

Siusan turned to look at the couple then smiled, “Ach, aye,” she whispered back. “I’ll tend tae this immediately.”

“I shall keep an eye out for another one like it, Dr. Beauchamp. If I find one, I’ll let ye know,” Ewan took her hand and gave her a gentlemanly bow pressing a kiss to her hand.

He smirked as he heard Jamie growl with annoyance.

“Ye ready, Claire?” Jamie questioned as he grabbed hold of their packages.

“Yes, quite ready. I did so enjoy visiting your lovely shop. I do hope to see you again soon. Please give my regards to your father.”

After shaking Ewan’s hand, Jamie took hold of Claire’s hand guiding her toward his favorite cafe for lunch.

After seating, Jamie ordered a soup, sandwich, and chips. Claire opted for the soup and a salad.

Claire was uncharacteristically quiet during lunch. She left her soup untouched and glumly pushed and poked at the greens on the plate.

Jamie gently raised her chin up trying to read her face without much success. “Sassenach, can ye tell me what’s on your mind?”

Claire gave him a sad little smile. “I’m not upset, truly, it’s...well, more reminiscing about something that happened a long time ago,” she replied as her hand reached to snatch a chip from his plate.

“I’d like to hear about it,” he encouraged.

She munched on Jamie’s chips one after another as she contemplated the telling of her story.

Jamie frowned as he watched his chips disappear little by little into Claire’s waiting mouth. He signaled the server, pointed to his plate of missing chips ordering two more.

“It happened when Lamb and I were in China for one of his excavations. I had gone to the market to buy supplies when I spotted this beautiful blue and white vase in a little store. Every day I would stop to admire it. I really wanted it, but I didn’t have a place to keep it,’ she said while snatching away another chip. “It didn’t seem practical to carry it around the world with me so I settled for admiring it in the window. One day I went back to look at it and it was gone. The shopkeeper told me someone bought it. When I saw the one in Ewan’s shop, it looked so much like the one in China. I thought I had a second chance to buy the vase, but I guess it wasn’t meant for me to have,” she said dejectedly.

Jamie leaned over and rummaged in the bags. “Do ye mean this one?” He placed the blue and white vase on the table in front of Claire. “I meant to give this to ye after dinner, but ye look so sad now, I couldna wait.”

Claire gasped in shock as she took in the vase sitting on the table in front of her. It took several serviettes to remove the chip grease from her fingers. With a shaking hand, she reached out and stroked the vase proving to herself that it was indeed real.

Claire looked from the vase to Jamie then back to the vase. “You bought this for me?” her voice filled with emotion.

“Aye, I saw how much ye wanted it so I bought it for ye.”

She got up and launched herself at Jamie taking his mouth in a fierce kiss. “Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.” Two fat tears broke free and rolled down her cheek.

He cradled her face in his large warm hands and used his thumbs to gently erase each tear away.

“Sassenach, dinna cry. ‘Tis only a vase.”

Her face sprang up abruptly. “Only a vase, only a vase! You couldn’t be more wrong, Fraser. It’s not just a vase, it’s-it’s-it’s just everything,” she stuttered.

It didn’t matter to Jamie that they were in a cafe, he pulled Claire closer to his chest, offering her the comfort of his body. His hand ran across her face as he whispered into her hair, “Claire, why don’t ye tell me all about it then.”

For Chrissakes, Beauchamp, you’re in a public place. What do you think you’re doing making a spectacle of yourself? Claire moved to get up and return to her seat, but Jamie held her fast.

“No. Stay where you are. I dinna care who sees us and neither should ye. Now, if ye dinna mind I’d like to hear ye story.”

She nodded her head, then wrapped her arms around his neck wondering how to explain this to him.

“I envy you, Jamie,” she began. “You had everything that I have ever wanted. Parents who loved you. Siblings who loved you, played with you, even fought with you. Friends, school mates. A regular school you went to every day. Sporting activities. Even your damn chess club,” she glared at him. “And, of course, there was Lallybroch. Every day you went to your home, to your room where you could study, daydream, and sleep in your bed.”

“Among other things,” he mumbled.

“Beg your pardon. I didn’t hear that.”

“‘Tis nothing,” he blushed, “Please continue.”

“When I saw the vase, I thought it signified home, my home,” she emphasized. It meant I lived there. It would be a place I would go to every day. To me, that vase represented everything I had ever wanted, had hoped for. The vase meant safety, security, permanence, stability.” She searched his face to see if he understood what she meant and she saw the dawning of understanding. “Mind, I don’t regret my childhood at all. It was magical, a wonderful opportunity most children will never have. And I loved Lamb, so very much. But, sometimes I just wanted…”

“Tae be like every other bairn, aye?”

“Yes. Normal. Not always on the move.”

“I see.” He paused, letting what she said sink in. “Do ye ken, Claire this is what I had in mind today. I wanted ye tae have things at the flat that would make ye comfortable, so ye would ken ye belonged there. No’ a guest. I wanted ye tae ken ye belonged there just as much as I do. That ‘tis your home if ye want. Anytime ye want, whenever ye want. I was worried that ye might think this too fast or too soon tae be talking like this, but maybe no’.” He looked at her with a look of sincerity causing her to become overwhelmed by his statement.

Claire leaned forward resting her forehead against his. “Thank you,” she whispered to him.

“For what, a leannan ? I just want ye tae be happy and I want tae be the one tae make ye happy.” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips across her fingers.

Her lips parted as though to say something. She changed her mind and bent forward giving him a passionate kiss. Jamie wrapped his arms around her waist pulling Claire in to deepen the kiss.

The sound of dishes and cutlery crashing to the floor caught their attention ending the kiss. All eyes were centered on them. Customers gaped with eyes bulging, and mouths agape. The young waitress, with a serious crush on Jamie, had dropped the plates she was about to serve. Claire’s cheeks flushed pink from the heat of the kiss.

“I think we have worn out our welcome.”

“From the looks of things, I’d say yer right,” he agreed.

Claire stood, her chin held high as she brushed away imaginary wrinkles from her jumper. She put on her scarf and coat while Jamie did the same. He left money on the table with a rather sizable tip and gathered up their belongings. The shaken waitress came toward the table as Claire grabbed another crisp.

“Best crisps in all of Edinburgh,” she declared. And they walked with dignity out the door.

He grabbed her hand, each looking at the other as they strode off cackling like two loons.

*********************

The weather changed during the day as the sun disappeared behind a mass of gray clouds. A cold, piercing wind blew biting cheeks and noses turning them cherry red. By the time they arrived back at Jamie’s flat in late evening, they were cold and hungry. Completing all the errands had taken a considerable amount of time. They warmed their fingers and toes in front of the fire Jamie started in the fireplace. They spread their purchases out on the floor while they discussed the proper place for each item.

“I’ll leave ye to it mo chridhe, while I heat up dinner for us,” Jamie said as he walked into the kitchen.

Claire nodded in agreement as she set about her task. She picked up the last bag and brought it with her to the sofa. It contained the vase. Carefully, she took the vase out and unwrapped it. She turned it around admiring it. It did look like the one that got away. Claire studied the room and finally came to a decision. A credenza, that Jamie used as a bar, stood off to the side displaying glassware on the left and the right. But the center was empty as if waiting for something special to claim the space. Carefully, she placed the vase centering it between the stemware. Stepping back Claire gave it a critical look. She broke out into a broad smile pleased with her decision.

Such a simple ordinary thing, a vase. To Claire, this homey object had been the symbol of the home she longed for and it needed to be shared. Shared with the man who held her heart and had become her home.

“Now it feels like home,” she murmured.

Jamie entered the room silently walking quickly toward Claire. He wrapped his arms around her waist pulling her against him, placing a tender kiss to her temple.

“What are ye about, mo nighean donn? Are ye no’ taking yer vase home with ye?”

Claire turned in his arms resting her cheek against his chest listening to the strong steady thrum of his heart. She stood on tiptoe gently kissing his lips murmuring, “It is home here with you.”

***********************************

It was Sunday already. Heaving a heavy sigh, Claire wondered how time had disappeared so quickly. She felt the spectre of loneliness try to creep back grabbing at her heart and soul with its icy fingers trying to reclaim them. This time she would not allow it. There was love in her life now. Jamie had turned her life around. He filled her life with love, laughter, and tenderness. He banished her pain and emptiness and she felt alive again. Loneliness would never have a chance to possess her again. And the once ever-present shadow vanished like the early mountain mist with the coming of the bright morning sunlight.

Claire stood staring into Jamie’s closet. She had taken up his offer to leave a few of her things there. She left her favorite little black dress, a pair of heels, some work-appropriate skirts and blouses, and a new lab coat. Her hand ran over his clothes and began to conjure an image of him dressed in them. Inhaling deeply she smelled his garments. Masculine. Pure unadulterated Jamie untainted by anything else. There was no other way to describe it. The scent would comfort her during the nights away from him. Besides, she stole his tee-shirt. The one she would wear to bed and imagine his arms wrapped around her while she slept.

Then there was the bed. The bed they had made love in, discovered each other in. Closing her eyes, Claire remembered what they had done throughout the week. The touches, lips grazing, moans of fulfillment. Last night and this morning were different. Their love-making became more desperate. An attempt to fend off the impending separation. Never had she felt such love, joy, and sadness. It would have to last, to be enough until they could be together again.

“Are ye ready Claire?” Jamie called from the sitting room.

“Yes, I’m coming.”

He drove her home and carried her bags up to her flat.

“I can take it from here,” Claire said in a hushed voice.

They stood there for what may have been a second or an hour. Neither wanting to be the one to say goodbye.

Jamie placed his hands on her hips pulling Claire against him, his head resting on top of hers. The warmth of his body calmed her and she relaxed into him.

“Jamie, I don’t…,” Claire sniffled.

“Hush, mo ghràdh, I’ll see ye tomorrow. Naught more than twelve hours,” he soothed.

“Do ye need me to pick up yer wee beast for ye?” he asked.

“No, the Bugs will be over with her in about an hour.”

“Then I guess I should be on my way and let ye get settled in. It will be a long day tomorrow for both of us.

“I guess so,” she mumbled as she looked up at him.

Wordlessly, Jamie brought his lips down to hers, kissing her tenderly.

“Sleep well, m'eudail. I love ye.”

Jamie hesitated then turned and left looking as if he had just lost his best friend.

Claire stood rooted to the spot watching him as he walked away wanting him to stay here with her.

I didn’t tell him I loved him back. Panic ensued. She raced outside just in time to see Jamie drive away.

Dismayed, she trudged back into her flat. Fuck! She swore, annoyed that she didn’t tell him and that she missed him before he drove off. I’ll call him. No, I’ll text him. Better yet, I’ll do both as soon as he gets home.

Claire took hold of her luggage and wheeled it into her bedroom. She hoisted it up on her bed, opened the case, and started to remove her things. There was a rap at the door along with the doorbell ringing.

“Hallo?”

“Claire, ma dearie, we brought yer lass home,” answered Murdina Bug.

Claire opened the door and Ginger bolted into the room almost knocking Claire over in the process. The dog spun around in excited circles, yipping a greeting to her mama. Claire squatted down to the dog’s level stroking her soft fur.

“How’s my girl then?” she laughed. The dog rolled over demanding belly rubs which were promptly given.

Oh, here is the soup, I promised ye. I dinna think ye would have the time to make dinner.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bug you didn’t have to do this.” The soup was still warm and had a wonderfully rich aroma making Claire’s mouth water.

“‘Twas naught. Arch and I needta be leaving ye,” she said as she thrust the container of soup in Claire’s hands. “We’re on a date,” she beamed as she looked up at her husband. “The lass has been fed and had a good walk so there is naught for ye tae do. Ye’ll bring her before ye go tae work? She’s a good helper with those rascals. Keeps them in line, ye ken?”

“Yes, you’ve told me what a great help she is to you. We’ll be there in the morning. Enjoy your evening.”

Ginger sat at attention, her tongue lolling out of her mouth. She nosed Claire’s hand looking for a scratch behind the ear. She sneezed. There was something wrong with her mama’s smell. It was different. Ginger licked her mama’s hand. That was fine, she tastes normal. A cold wet nose sniffed at Claire, her ear, hands, arms, eventually finding its way to her legs. The smell was strongest here. The dog inhaled deeply and let out a powerful sneeze.

“My sweet girl, are you sick?” Claire began to fret. She ran her hands over the dog checking her as best as she could. Her eyes were clear, nose cold and wet, nothing dripping from it. Her breathing did not seem labored. Claire dismissed the sneezing to a dusty room.

“We must clean up. It won’t do to have you sneezing. But first things, first,” she winked at the dog.

Claire reached for her purse taking out her cell. Quickly she sent off her text to Jamie. Before she had a chance to call him, her phone rang. It was Jamie. She smiled answering his call.

Ginger was perplexed by the change in her mama. She raised her nose high in the air turning her head in different directions, sniffing. She followed her nose to the bedroom. The smell was stronger there. Whatever it was it seemed to be coming from her bed. Walking over to the bed, she stood on her hind legs so she could smell Claire’s open suitcase. It positively reeked! Ginger didn’t know what kind of animal her mama had been with while she was away, but she did not like it. Not one bit. The dog jumped up on the bed, took Claire’s clothes out the suitcase scattering them over the bed. She pawed at the clothing until she found what she was looking for. Found it, Ginger thought. The odor was strongest on a shirt and on some of her mama’s clothes. The small clothes that mama wore covering her between her legs. She used her nails to scratch at the shirt trying to tear it to pieces. When that didn’t work she chewed it. The shirt was a soggy mess lying limp like an old rag doll by the time she was done. For good measure, she rolled over the clothing wanting to eradicate the scent. Mine, the dog thought. This is my mama and I will not share. After she removed the odor from the intruder, and thoroughly covered the garments with her fur, she left the bedroom.

She settled in her bed knowing that she would get a scolding for what she did. Ginger didn’t care. After all, she was protecting her mama and that was her job. She knew her mama would not see it that way.

The dog watched Claire walk into the bedroom. Wait for it, wait for it.

“GINGER! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!,” came the bellow.

Claire charged into the sitting room waving Jamie’s sodden shirt. It was covered in dog hair as well.

“What have you done young lady? Hmm? I was going to sleep in this tonight. And all my other clothes need a good washing too,” Claire frowned holding up her fur covered panties.

The dog looked up at her with large soft chocolate brown eyes full of remorse. She covered her face with her paws as an act of contrition.

“Oh, all right. You did that because I was gone so long and you missed me,” Claire sighed. She patted the dog on the head in forgiveness. “Just don’t ever do that again. OK?”

She woofed happily, madly wagging her tail.

Two hours later saw the laundry completed. Claire sniffed Jamie’s shirt. The scent may not be as strong as before, but it definitely lingered. It seemed as if his smell permanently embedded itself in the fibers. Deciding to make it an early night Claire completed her nightly ritual, pulling on the tee-shirt marveling at its softness. As it skimmed over her body, it reminded her of Jamie’s loving caresses.

Jamie. She missed him already. Badly. Only eight more hours before I see him again, she consoled herself.

After plumping the pillows and pulling back the duvet, Claire snuggled in the bed. The room was dark with only the faintest light from the moon cast shadows along the floor.

Claire tossed and turned. Turning with such regularity the sheets twisted until it resembled a coiled snake. A car drove past. A siren's wail.The creaks and groans of the flat settling. All the noises of the night creating an unwanted symphony determined to keep her awake. At one point, Claire looked at the opposite side of the bed and imagined Jamie lying next to her. It was so real her hand reached out to touch him. But he was nothing more than illusion. It was no use. Sleep continued to elude her. The reason she knew was she missed Jamie.

Her phone began to vibrate. Claire wondered who would be calling at that late hour. Jamie’s name blazed across her phone.

“Hi.”

“I dinna wake ye, did I?”

“No. I was staring at the ceiling if you must know.”

“Aye, me too.” Jamie hesitated for a moment, “I canna sleep. I...I miss ye. The bed is empty without ye in it.”

Claire exhaled softly. “I miss you too. The bed seems too big, too lonely without you in it. What are we going to do?”

“Maybe, ye can, if ye dinna have plans, maybe ye can spend the weekend with me?”

She chuckled softly, “No. I don’t have any plans. It’s a date. I’ll make the arrangements for Ginger.”

“That’s great, Sassenach.” He hesitated not wanting to end the call, but knew he should, “Claire, ye need yer sleep. Ye have a big day ahead of ye. Try and get some sleep. I’ll see ye in the morning.”

“You’re right. Get some sleep too. You’ll need to be on your toes with the students trailing you about.”

“Aye, yer right,” he laughed. “They always have a lot of questions.”

“Jamie?”

“Aye?”

“I love you.”

“As I do ye. Good night Claire.” Jamie turned on his side, grasped Claire’s pillow,wrapping his arms around it pretending he was holding Claire. He buried his face inhaling her fragrance and promptly fell asleep.

Sighing, Claire turned on her side and buried her nose inside Jamie’s shirt, breathing in the subtle scent of him. Comforted, she fell asleep too.

*********************

STD - Sexually transmitted diseases

bletherskates - gossips, nosy-bodies.

Tapadh leibh, - Thank you. I used the formal expression because Ewan is older than Jamie.

a charaid - Friend

Siusan - no this is not misspelled. It is the Scottish spelling for Susan according to my references and it means lily.

a leannan; m'eudail. - darling

mo chridhe - my heart.

If there is any questions, suggestions, comments or gentle criticisms, please don’t hesitate to leave it. I love hearing from you. I hope you enjoyed this.

#edinburgh to boston #chapter 20 #permanence #outlander fanfiction #My writing #Here Goes Nothing #@scubalass

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themissinghippogriff · 5 years ago

Text

Waxing Moon ~SMUT~ Young Remus x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Description: Holy shit this is SMUT, and fucking vulgar as shit. Remus takes reader roughly due to the full moon being soon. Lil fluff at the end uwu

Warnings: Rough sex

____

The full moon was tomorrow, and Remus had kept his distance from you. You were left to assume he was just extra irritable and didn't want to take the chance of blowing up in your face like he tended to do with James and Sirius.

You understood, but at the same time you couldn't help but be a little hurt, he was your boyfriend after all. Remus had ordered the other marauders to get out of the dorm for the night, and they obliged, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his yelling.

They had snuck out of the castle to go to the Hog's Head, and even invited you to go with them. You declined, not wanting to leave Remus, even though he was avoiding you like the plague.

So here you were, lounging on one of the crimson sofas in the Common Room. It was around midnight and you couldn't sleep. You had awoken about half an hour ago to see the boys sneaking off.

Usually, you would have made your way to the boy's dorm and crawled into bed with Remus, but that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Your (E/C) eyes snapped to the staircase upon hearing someone coming down them, subconsciously wrapping your robe closer to you.

It was Remus.

You felt your lips turn upward into a smile, " Oh, hi,"

He looked to you and returned the smile warily, " Hi, love," he walked over to one of the chairs and sat down, keeping his distance from you, " What are you doing up?"

You frowned, " You know spending a little time with me won't kill you," you muttered.

The werewolf opened his mouth then closed it, his own eyes looking to the fire.

" I mean, I understand why you're keeping your distance Remus, ut what I don't understand is why you can spend time with the guys and not me? Am I that bloody irritating?"

His green eyes widened, " What? No, love, I..."

Your frown deepened, " What?" you all but snapped.

" I'm not staying away from you, I..." he cleared his throat awkwardly, a blush rising to his face, " I, um, You see sometimes it's different, sometimes I'm emotional, irritable, and then other times I- um-"

It clicked in your head and you felt your heartbeat increase considerably, " You get horny," you stated.

Remus buried his face in his hands, " I was going to say aroused, but yes, horny,"

You felt a grin stretch across your face, " Why didn't you just say so, " you purred, dropping your robe to reveal small blue night shorts and a white tank top.

Remus's eyes widened as you approached him, " (Y/N), when I get like this I can be, um, rough, and I would never want to impose myself on you,"

You smiled, " It's not imposing if I want it," you whispered taking a seat in his lap.

Remus licked his lips, his hand resting on you (Y/S/T) thigh, " Love, are you sure," he said, his eyes darkening.

You answered his question with a kiss and he responded with a hand going to your neck and his tongue plunging into your mouth.

You felt desire beginning to pool in your stomach as you began to rock back in forth on his hard-on. An idea popped into your head and you pushed away from him and climbed off his lap.

His confused look turned to one of sinister glee. You backed up towards the stairs, feeling like a rabbit who had just been spotted by a hungry wolf. A second later you spun around and flew up the stairs towards Remus's dorm, the sandy-haired teen followed closely behind, only arousing you more.

You launched yourself onto his bed while he locked the door behind him before turning to you. You watched as he stalked towards you, excited for what was to come next. Usually, when you and Remus got intimate he was gentle and loving, so this was a whole new side of him that you couldn't wait to discover.

Remus grabbed the waistband of your shorts and yanked them off your legs, making you fall back onto the bed, but was quickly lifted back up by him pulling your tank top over your head, exposing your breasts to the cool air.

The werewolf threw your shirt to the other side of the room before attacking your right breast with bites and licks, causing you to fall back onto the bed with an appreciative sigh. You attempted to run your hand through his sandy locks but was stopped by his large hand.

He gripped both of your wrists in one hand, placing them over your head, rendering you defenseless against his attacks on your breast.

You could feel your swollen clit pulsing with arousal with every flick of his tongue over a hardened bud.

" Remus," you panted, " Please,"

He nipped your nipple, making you gasp, " I'm not finished," he said lowly before placing a chaste kiss to your collarbone. He attached himself to your neck, making sure to leave purple blotches over that special vein on your neck.

He made his way back to your breasts leaving love bites and sloppy kisses in his wake.

You could feel your arousal soaking your panties and it was about to drive you mad. You began to try and free yourself from Remus's grip but was met with his free hand going to your throat. He kept a firm grasp on your neck, it didn't hurt ut shocked you none the less.

" I told you,"

Your chest heaved up and down as he leaned towards your ear, " I'm not finished,"

His commanding voice turned you on more than you would have liked to admit, and him keeping you from touching yourself made it even better and worse at the same time. You bucked your hips and whined, " Please Remus, " you begged.

His hand released your neck and dragged itself between your perky breasts and then down your naval, finding its way to the hem of your panties. Slowly, his manicured nail dragged itself over the cloth and to where your clit was.

He pushed down slightly, causing you to release a breath you didn't know you had been holding, " I want you to move," he growled while still hovering over you.

You swayed your hips ack in forth, trying to create the sensation of your clit being rubbed. You were blown away with your own arousal, surprised at how the lightest touch could feel so good.

" Do you wanna know why I've teased you so much, love?" he asked kissing your neck, " It's because I want you wet enough for me to fuck the hell out of that cunt without stopping,"

You bucked your hips forward trying to get closer to his fingers.

" Do you think your wet enough for me, love,"

You nodded frantically, not sure if you could take anymore.

The hand that had been dancing around your clothed core grabbed ahold of the fabric and ripped it from your body, immediately plunging his fingers into your drenched pussy.

A moan left your mouth, " Merlin, Remus!"

He growled and picked up the pace, curling his fingers as he went.

You were sure if he kept on you would come undone before he had a chance to even enter you, and you didn't want that.

" Remus, please, fuck me," you managed to ground out.

He didn't answer put placed his handsome face between your thighs, replacing his fingers with his tongue, " Fuck, you taste so bloody good," he groaned as he lapped at your clit.

" Remus!" you screamed, your fingers interlacing with his hair, " Please, I want- I- I want-"

Remus smirked and peered over at you, " Tell me what you want love, " he said, knowing full well you were embarrassed by what you were going to say.

" I-I-," you felt your face heat up and your mouth shut.

" I can't give you what you want unless you tell me," he said, standing up before pulling his sweater over his head, revealing his scarred but toned chest.

Your pussy clenched around nothing, and this only encouraged you to say what you wanted, " I-I want you inside me, Remus," you breathed.

A rare smirk graced the werewolf's face, " Get on your knees, love,"

You did so without a word and bit your lip when he spanked you. He then proceeded to massage the afflicted area, " Such a good girl," he praised while grabbing your hips.

You listened to the sound of fabric falling to the ground and then felt the tip of his dick rub against you soaked entrance, " For fuck's sake Remus, please," you rasped out.

Before another plea could leave you lips, Remus thrusted into you with indescribable force. A cry forced itself out of your throat as his cock pistoned in and out of your pussy at an unfathomable speed.

You grabbed fistfuls of his comforter as if you were hanging on for dear life. It was as if you had forgotten how to speak, the only thing that left your mouth were wanton moans, only encouraging him to go faster and harder.

You felt tears prickle at your eyes due to the immense pleasure you felt.

Remus rotated his hips causing his dick to rush against a sensitive crevice deep with your cunt, you could feel yourself beginning to reach that euphoric high, you just needed a little more.

" R-Remus!" you ground out, " I'm so-so cl-close!"

Remus's hands gripped your hips so hard you were sure there would be bruises in the morning. He made it to where your face was down and your ass in the air.

His hips snapped against your ass with tremendous force, causing the bed to slide across the stone floor, but you could care less.

The scarred man snaked a finger down to your clit and began to flick it. Your walls clenched around him, " Don't cum until I say you can, do you understand me?" he rasped.

You moaned your obedience, trying your damnest to stop teetering near the edge and not fall into that euphoric abyss you wanted so badly to dive into.

Remus groaned, " Fuck love, I'm almost there,"

You sat there helplessly taking all that he was giving, " Okay," he began," I want you to cum for me,"

Once again his fingers played with your clit and your breathing faltered, feeling yourself coming undone underneath him.

It could have been described as a dam breaking, it was magnificent. Your pussy quivered with relief, pulsing around him as it simultaneously milked the cum from his cock.

Remus let out a low moan, " Fuck," he cursed.

You whimpered, exhaustion hitting you like a brick. After Remus pulled out you practically collapsed, your breathing was labored and your legs trembled.

Remus pulled his briefs back on and flicked his wand, summoning a cool rag, " Was I too rough on you, love?" he asked pressing the cool cloth to your forehead.

You pouted and opened your arms, gesturing for him to put you to bed. Remus smirked and picked you up, placing you under the covers and climbing in next to you.

" That was bloody great," you mumbled, " I'm going to e walking crooked for a week,"

Remus snickered and pressed a kiss to your forehead, " You're so beautiful," he hummed, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

You smiled, falling asleep.

The door creaked open revealing the other marauders. Sirius's mouth dropped at the sight of ripped clothing and Remus's bed being almost entire flipped around.

Peter hit the taller boys on the shoulder and gestured to the two of you in Remus's bed, " Full moons, huh?"

#remus x reader smut #young remus x reader #smut #marauder smut #young remus x reader smut #remus fluff

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the-great-imagines-of-1812 · 4 years ago

Text

Through The Years (Bucky Barnes x Fem!Stark! Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: Enjoy! As always, any feedback is appreciated! Let me know if you want to be tagged! And YES, Bucky makes his first appearance in this chapter. ;)

tags: @the-romanian-is-bae @a-girl-who-loves-disney

tw: catcalling

~~~~~~~~~~~~

LONDON ENGLAND, 1943

“Alright. Howard, Y/N. Welcome to London. In this camp, resides the 107th and 108th infantry regiments. You two will be able to set up your stuff over...”

Peggy thinks for a second. “Ah! There. It’s Perfect.” She pointed to a more secluded area of the camp, where you and Howard would be able to set up camp and experiment.

“Thanks, Peggy. We’ll see you later?” You said, turning to Peggy, as Howard unloaded he last of you guys’ things off the plane.

She hugs you. “Of course you will. I’ve got to go check on Steve. He’s got another USO performance tonight, one in Edinburgh, another in Glasgow, and we continue up North. It might be some time before you see me, sadly.”

You frowned. “Well, make sure to write. I couldn’t bear not hearing from you.”

She gave you a smile and said her goodbyes as she wandered off, looking for Steve.

“Y/N/N, care to help me with the luggage?” Howard said, already carrying a few suitcases.

“Of course, Howwie.” As you turned to grab the suitcase the suitcase was already up in the air.

Frozen in shock you stood there, hoping no one would see.

“Y/N!! What was that?”

You nervously turned to Howard, ringing your hands. “What was was what, Howwie?”

He gave you a look. “You know what I’m talking about. We’ll discuss this later.”

You sighed and grabbed the suitcase, a rucksack and another suitcase, following Howard.

~~~~~~~~

After you and Howard set up camp on the clearing, he immediately went out, in search of General Philips.

You sighed. You should’ve told him since the start.

To clear your head, you decided to take a walk a round the camp, to simply familiarize yourself with the place. To clear your head too, that would be nice.

The men you saw all around the camp were pretty much the same. Drinking, sobbing, sleeping. Oh, and don’t forget the body odor.

This was not what you were used to, but these men are fighting a war. The least you could do is give them a break.

“Heyyyyyy pretty lady! C’mere.” you heard a drunker soldier slur out.

You turned and crossed your arms, scoffing. “Excuse me?”

“He said c’mere, lady!” another soldier said from behind him.

“You is the only lady here, we could pass you around, darlin’ there’s enough of us to go around” the first soldier said.

“No thank you sir, I have enough self-respect and dignity to not be seen with the likes of you.”

The second soldier, his friend, spoke up again. “What’re ya doin’ here anyway? Are’nt you supposed to be in the kitchen?”

You were starting to become scared. “I’m an engineer. I have no excuse for being in the kitchen.”

“All ladies belong in-”

“HEY! Leave her alone!” the soldier was cut off by a voice. You turned to see, and it was a tall, blue eyed soldier, with hazel-colored hair, and fair skin.

He was tall, he stood straight he wanted to be seen. His crystal blue eyes pierced through the room, but were focused on you. He most definitely stood out from the rest.

Then it hit you. This man was the mysterious stranger you had seen at the Stark expo a couple of months back.

He grabbed the soldier by his shirt. “That’s no way to treat a lady. Show some goddamn respect.” he put the soldier down and turned to you.

“I apologize on behalf of my fellow soldier, Miss.” he said, kissing your hand.

You smiled at him, a blush covering your cheeks. “I-It’s ok. I’m used to it, I guess.”

He looked you straight in the eyes this time. “No one should be used to it, Man or Woman.”

“You crossed your arms and looked up at him again; him being much taller. “You got a name, soldier?, or are you just going to remain my knight in shining armor?’

He chuckles. Damn, that laugh could brighten anyone’s day. “I’d rather remain your knight in shining armor, gorgeous. But if ya really wanna know, the name is James Buchanan Barnes. Friends call me Bucky.”

“We’re friends, now?”

“I’d be surprised if we weren’t, doll-face. I think Everyone needs a friend right now.”

He pauses to scan your face.

“How about it darlin’, you got a name?”

“Y/N. But friends call me Y/N/N.”

By this time, him and you were already walking off to the edge of the forest, not to far where he first found you. You bot sat down on a log.

“Y/N, that’s it? No last name?” he said, in a teasing tone.

You laughed. “Y/N Stark. I know what you’re going to say. I do run Stark Industries with my brother.”

“More like he runs it with you, doll-face. I was at the expo this year. I’ve seen your work. You have a talent.”

You chuckle and blush, breaking eye contact with him. “You are a charmer, Barnes. I got to give you that.”

“Ya know before I left for the war, they used to call me ‘the heart breaker of Brooklyn’”

“No way Barnes. A guy like you? No way.”

“Yes way.”

“I don’t believe you Barnes” you feigned shock.

“You better!”

“Uh, well, how about you tell me how you became this gorgeous genius engineer, huh?”

You let out a laugh, not holding back this time. “I attended a boarding school in London, St-martin-the-fields high school, strictly for girls, which is were i met Peggy. I later went on, against my parents wishes, I got a P.H.D in engineering from NYU; graduated early.”

He seems to look at your with pure wonder in his eyes. “Impressive.What after?”

“I became a professor of Engineering at Columbia College, also in New York. My parents didn’t like this, so they sort-of threw me out.”

“I am so sorry doll. No one deserves that, no matter how big their aspirations may be.” he said, laying his hand over yours.

“The teaching position didn’t last long though, that’s when I lost it and moved in with Howard. And a few years back, we started what today is known as Stark Industries.”

“You continue to impress me with every passing second. What’re you doing on an army camp like this?”

“The SSR was re-tasked by President Roosevelt. We’re bringing the fight to HYDRA. Anyway, enough about me, sport. You practically know me already.”

He told you all about his childhood in Brooklyn, saving Steve from trouble at every corner.

“Wait, wait. hold the phone. You know Steve, Barnes?”

“Y-yeah, I do. Since we were kids. How do YOU know him?”

You let out a hearty chuckle. “That’s a story for another time.”

You two talked for hours upon hours, until the night sky got even darker, and all the soldiers had retreated to their tents. He told you about his childhood with Steve, how his mother would scold him as a child for stealing a cookie from the jar, his cherry red bike when he was a teen. He told you about his sister Rebecca, and how you two would be best friends, if you ever had the chance to meet.

“Y/N! Where are you?”

This startled you, and you jumped into Bucky’s arms. “Woah there, dollface, I haven’t even taken you out dancin’ yet-”

“Hands of my sister!” Howard came running and pulled you away from Bucky, shoving you behind him.

“Howard I’m fine!”

“Woah there Mr. Stark. It wasn’t-”

“If I EVER see you with her AGAIN, I will fight you on SIGHT. Let’s go, Y/N/N”

You mouthed a ‘sorry’ to Bucky as Howard dragged away from him. Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets ‘It’s okay’ with a dopey smile as he walked back to his tent.

He just hoped he would see you again. Maybe he’d take you dancing.

~~~~~~~~

Howard dragged you by the hand all the way to a bigger tent, one that wasn’t his and yours. “Where are we, Howwie?”

“I’m taking you to see someone. Because there’s something your not telling me. How long have you been lying to me about the serum? huh? how long has it been affecting you?” He said, face morphing from anger to sadness to worry.

“Ever since... I guess there’s no use in lying to you.”

“Please, sis, I just want to help you.”

“I guess- ever since Steve received the serum? When I was shot? My best guess is that the bullet went through a tube of the serum, then into my ribs.”

You paused.

“Ever since then, when I’m alone, I concentrate on something, let’s say a book, I can lift it with my mind. My brain just concentrates, it moves. I tell it to move forward, it does so. It’s at my command if I just focus on it. I guess that with the suitcase you told me to lift, it was just- an accident.”

Howard sighed and let go of your hand. “What you have, dear sister, what you have gained, is telekinesis is a superpower where the user has an ability to move things at will. At it’s highest levels, dismantle the fabrics of the universe.”

“Howard, I’m scared.”

“Don’t be. I’m here to help you. Come with me.”

You both walked into the tent, were General Philips was siting at his desk.

“Howard, Y/N. Finally I wan’t to talk to you both. Howard as told me about the situation of yours, Y/N, your secret is safe with me.”

“What is it, General?”

“I want you to join the 107th.”

“General! I beg your pardon-”

“Allow me to talk, Ms. Stark. The regiment needs someone like you. I know you’ve expressed your interest in the war efforts-”

“But General, the men, my brother- you can’t expect me to use telekinesis in my service-”

“You’ll still be able to work with Howard. Don’t worry about the men. They need someone to keep them in line. Without your powers. Only if and when i tell you to.”

You clutched Howard’s arm. You had never been this nervous.

The General stands up from his desk to pick up a box, which he opens, to reveal a army uniform with pins on it, including three stars, identifying your rank.

“What I’m saying is this: Welcome to the 107th infantry regiment, Lieutenant General Y/N Stark.”

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: feedback is appreciated! :)

- Talya

#marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagines #Marvel x Y/N #Howard Stark x sister! reader #Howard stark #peggy carter x best friend! reader #peggy carter #Steve Rogers #peggy carter x reader #steve rogers x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine

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anika-ann · 5 years ago

Text

Walpurgis Night

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 9860 (oh, oh, dammit)

Summary: For the once wandering eye of the former King Howard of Starkerbürg, the kingdom suffered a terrible loss.

As winter blossoms into spring, the night of Walpurgis arrives and another man is chosen to bring the long-lost princess, sister to King Anthony, home. No one has ever succeeded in the task; another spring equals another life lost.

Steven was not meant to be selected; he volunteered, taking another man’s place. It is up to him to set foot into the woods where myths come to life and men of the kingdom meet their death.

A/N: for a challenge hosted by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan. Congratulation to your rightfully earned milestone. May you gain more loyal followers in the future. I thank you for allowing me to take part in your challenge. Prompt: Fairytale AU

Warnings: mentions of death(s), minor injury and blood, supernatural elements, fluff extraordinaire, a little bit of angst

Note: It’s not a habit of mine to inset links for music, but if anyone wishes to listen to the song responsible for this fic, link is in the text (and the non-Marvel pics above are from the music video).

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“May the Gods lead your sword and bring you home safe, my brave lord,” the Queen pronounced as she placed a cowslip to his collar and beckoned to him to stand up.

If Steven’s heart wasn’t beating its way out of his chest with a barely contained restlessness, he would have chuckled bitterly. ‘Lord.’ As if he was anything but a peasant, as if his life had any value to the King or the Queen; and yet, Queen Virginia’s gaze rested upon him and observed him with sorrow; as if he mattered to her.

As if she regretted her husband’s madness, one he had inherited from his father.

King Howard, passing away last winter, had never bothered hiding his wandering eye. Queen Maria, his beloved wife, had graciously tolerated her husband’s predilection for other women, seeing as he never acted upon it. Many ladies of the court had found themselves blessed when the King decided to spent an evening in their company; although never left alone with his highness, never granted even a gleam of hope of being taken as a lover, they cherished their moments with him and held no grudges.

However, an exception to the rule had always solidified its validity.

One of the King’s chosen companions had fallen for him, refusing offers of marriage which had been not scarce as she had foolish faith in king’s short-lived attraction. She – and her name could never be spoken in the land of Starks ever again, one of the most serious offences punished by death – deluded herself into believing he would leave the Queen, blind to the deep affection shared between her sovereigns. Oblivious until the second royal child was born.

The Princess, barely days old, went missing overnight, the very night of Walpurgis, when the powers of evil were believed to be most potent. With the ringing of tower bells, the King’s Guard saw to find the heiress to the crown.

Before the night was over, all they discovered was a laughing woman, having gone mad with heartbreak.

“You took everything from me,” she spluttered, spitting on king’s shoes as she had been forced to her knees, hands restrained; eyes teary and yet smiling. “Now you shall know how that feels.”

The woman had laughed and laughed as she burned at the stake, crying tears of joy at king’s torment. She had carried away the baby to the woods; left it for the malicious intentions of fauns, elves, dryads, nymphs, hulders and witches, all the evil spirits from myths much truer than prophesies read from the stars.

The Princess was lost ever since.

Steven had only learned this history from his mother’s narrative (Gods may grant her peace in afterlife) and from rumours spreading all over the Stark’s lands.

How could it not still be spoken of?

Every Walpurgis Eve, the night of the evil spirits’ power ruling and yet assumed to be most vulnerable, a brave man would rise and offer his service to the King, attempting to save the Princess from the claws of darkness.

Every morning after, all that was left of him was his armour; king’s armour, the finest quality, abandoned. With each life lost, the King turned more furious; with every life laid down, fewer and fewer lords were willing to meet their certain death.

Thieves and tavern brawlers were dragged to the edge of forest in their place, meeting the same fate; death cared little for nobility and wealth, greedily hoarding all souls offered.

Steven was no thief, had never been caught in a middle of a brawl. However, Pietro, the brother to Wanda, born moments apart from her as their mother left them before they were blessed enough to meet her, had not been as fortunate.

While King Antony had promised to end the never-ending madness of his father once he would inherit the crown, swearing that no other man would be coerced to try and complete an impossible task (as the people of Starkerbürg whispered of the Princess being long dead, eaten by wolves or the forest spirits), the day had come and he had chosen another innocent soul.

No amount of cries from the broken woman, who had no family left but her twin brother, had mollified the King. He himself had lost his mother to grief, his father to illness and his sister to pointless vengeance; why should he care for compassion when he could hold onto the senseless hope instead?

Steven could no longer watch the tragedy unfolding in front of him, less so having met the twins before. He had stepped forward and took Pietro’s place.

Steven had no family of his own, not anymore, not yet; not for the lack of sudden interest from women who had never as much as spent him a glance only few winters prior when he had been fighting all illnesses the kingdom had ever suffered. His mother had worked tooth and nail to keep him alive; and Steven wished to find himself a mate just as loving, not a fickle female who turned around for the man most impressive at given time.

Perhaps he was abandoning that foolish dream for his very recent actions. Perhaps, he wouldn’t live long enough to meet such kind soul who would care little whether his body was a fragile vessel (which it used to be) or as strong as a horse.

In the end, Steven had nothing to fear, barely anything to lose. Should he fail, he might encounter his father who had offered for the similar task many years ago.

Men had been laying down their lives, involuntarily. Steven was willing to do so if he could spare the poor Wanda suffering and gift her the life of her brother. If there had been one thing Steven craved more than a beautiful loving wife of a kind heart, it was him being a good man.

Returning to the present, Steven rose as the Queen had commanded, his fingers deliberately brushing over the yellow flower nestled in his collar. A cowslip; for protection from evil spirits. The castle, the towns, the villages… they were flooded with cowslips these days, fires lit long before sunset. The whole land feared the creatures of the forest.

His mother had always warned him from them, keeping the fate her husband had met in mind.

Sarah, Steven’s beloved mother who had worked herself to an early grave to put as much as a bread crust to his mouth, would have cried her eyes out if she learned her son was being foolish, coming voluntarily; her heart would have shattered with sorrow. Her heart would have burst with pride had she learned he had done it to save another man’s life.

With peace in mind Steven bowed to Queen Virginia and King Anthony once more before turning away. The Queen’s sorrowful eyes followed him as the crowd parted, forming an aisle for him to walk through; gracelessly stepping aside so he may walk towards his death.

A small hand curled around his wrist, forcing him to halt and meet a pair of familiar emerald eyes.

“Natalia,” he granted her with a reassuring smile and she sprang towards him from James’ side, throwing her arms around him in an unladylike manner, losing nothing of the warmth of her gesture.

“Steven. Trust nothing you see,” she warned him with a knowing glint in her eye, worry for her dear friend creasing the elegant arches of her brows.

Steven stiffened, taken aback by both her heartfelt assault and her words. He gently squeezed her waist, wary of letting people see their affection. She was to wed soon, to his best friend no less. James understood, however the people of the court and other commoners like himself might not.

“I shall return to you all, Natalia. Worry for me not,” he whispered, allowing her to slip from his arms, nodding at his friend who reciprocated the gesture, patting his shoulder covered in expensive cloak.

“Don’t do anything foolish, brother.”

Natalia shook her head, tight-lipped smile on her face, brief and too weak for anyone to believe that she had that much faith in him.

It wounded Steven, yes, but feeble-minded he was not. The truth was merciless; not one man had ever returned from the path he was about to set foot on. Not a single one.

“You are a fool,” Natalia lamented, her palm tenderly laid on his chest, as if she could feel his heartbeat under the many layers covering his torso, including the thick chainmail. “May the Gods protect you, Steven. Be careful.”

He nodded, only having taken a single step aside when another person appeared in his path.

Wanda. The sister. Realization dawned to Steven, for the first time since the unfortunate morning of Pietro being chosen, that she had barely reached the age of a woman, rather being a child still. Bending down to her as her frame seemed even smaller than usual, her thin shoulders scrunched in guilt, Steven could see clearly her tears-stained face.

Her petite hands, cold to touch and trembling, wrapped around his left one, watery eyes looking up at him. Steven didn’t hesitate to give her a smile, to assure her that she owed him nothing for taking her brother’s place.

The redhead didn’t seem to agree, seeing as her skirts swirled and she fell to her knees right in front of him in a gesture of subservience.

“My la-“ he exclaimed, alarmed, more so when she turned his hand in hers, her lips hovering above his leather-cladded palm, another sign of inferiority to him, leaving him horrified. Overtaken by shock, rendered speechless, he only observed as she took his other hand and repeated her action, clinging onto him like onto a dear life.

Only when she raised her teary eyes to him, he shook himself at last and kneeled to her level, regardless of the mud staining his attire. She had clearly cared not for her skirts either as the plain dress she was wearing were now soaked in dirt.

“My lady, Wanda-”

Her lips quivered, tears rolling down her pale cheeks as she released his hand and reached to the curve of her nape, unfastening a thin chain carrying a pendent.

Breath caught in Steven’s throat when she handed it to him without hesitation, curling her tiny fingers around his before he could even consider giving it back. Her whisper, peculiarly deep and so quiet he had to strain his ears to hear it, resonated in his soul, her gaze trapping him.

“Shall the kindness of your heart be your lifeline in the dark. May it shine and keep you warm, perish not its honest spark.”

Mesmerized by a red gleam which Steven would swear he saw burning in her eyes for the shortest of moments, he nearly missed the flicker of fire running through his veins.

Mind foggy, he blinked quite frantically to clear his vision. Wanda’s eyes welcomed him with their inviting brightness, her hands squeezing his. The illusion of the flame disappeared.

Snapping from his trance, Steven got a hold of her forearms and assisted her in standing up to her full height. She appeared unbothered by the state of her clothing, her gaze never leaving his face, focused and sincere.

“Blessed be your kind soul, son of Joseph,” Wanda whispered, voice as soft as her grateful smile.

Steven, feeling a strange tingle in his fingertips, at the base of his spine and in his very core, only nodded, his father’s name echoing in his ears. How had she heard of his father? How did she know?

Sensing the eyes of all onlookers on them, he swallowed his confusion and the unfamiliar feeling coursing through his veins and finally continued walking, the crowd closing behind him like sea. He readjusted the sword in its scabbard, the shield – a gift from the King himself for every man marching to find his own end in the woods – sitting heavy on the straps on his back.

The pendent from Wanda burned in his palm and so he secured it around his neck, hoping he would bring the precious piece of jewellery back to her.

Unknown to him, Wanda’s eyes followed him with content, an inconspicuous watery smile on her lips, a knowing glint in her eye as her brother placed a hand on her shoulder, pulling her into an embrace.

The glittering aura, now glowing bright due to her little enchantment, drawing sights of all powered creatures, just might mollify the spirits of the woods and cause them to spare Steven’s life as they never wished to harm a man of a pure heart.

The sun was nearly at the end of its path behind horizon when Steven walked through the city gate.

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♪

Steven couldn’t recall how he had found himself in this place of magic. His feet had led him of their own accord, the fire of his torch long gone; an absence barely acknowledged as the moonlight was shining bright, illuminating the scene unfolding in front of him.

A meadow soaked in silver, serene and yet bursting with life, laughter and music, men-like half-goat creatures romping in the middle, a circle of dancing women-- beautiful, beautiful women, light on their feet, nearly floating, their modest white clothing swirling with each movement---so exquisite that Steven forgot how to breathe, all coherent thought leaving his mind as his eyes remained hypnotized by the grace and joy of the dreamlike goddesses.

Laughing, voices as hundreds of tiny bells, two of the stunning women turned their head, spotting his lone figure standing motionless between the trees. Eyes sparkling, they sprung forward, bare feet barely touching the ground as they twirled around him, delicate fingers tracing the lines of his wide shoulders and his heart fluttered and begun to hum an ancient song he had never been taught and yet he knew.

His cloak pooled on the ground by his feet as their quick fingers unclasped the buckle and Steven was overtaken by gratitude, for the cloak had been weighting him down, a superfluous piece of heavy cloth, too warm, standing in the way of their pleasant touch—the chainmail was lost next, having him bound, suffocated---he only had the mindfulness of the precious doves to thank to for freeing him of his burdens.

His sword long abandoned beside the shield and his dagger, their giggle echoed in the open space, whispered back by the lindens and oaks, as they aided him to lose his boots too, those shackles preventing him from joining their joyful dance.

Each of the goddesses interlaced her fingers with his, pulling him into the whirl and twirl, his heart light and overflowing with happiness unknown until that very moment.

The sheer beauty of his female companions would have been enough to bring him to his knees, already growing weak from exhaustion; the delicate lines of their physique, hair he would serenade for its softness, lips lush, begging to be tasted, eyes sparkling with life—and one pair of the most dazzling eyes glassy with unshed tears, smiling, yet heavy with sorrow, never leaving his frame, never shying away from his fascinated gaze, her own boring into his very soul and weeping for it.

Steven truly ceased to breathe and his heart rose to the moon and stars themselves when she broke the circle and reached out to him the exact moment his legs gave out under a sudden wave of dizziness. Steven succeeded at staying on his feet only for her and the brief hint of a smile on her tempting lips.

Then, this incarnation of the goddess of beauty herself was drawn back to her place as the dancing and singing went on, weariness settling deep in Steven’s body. Too frantic, too swirly, too noisy—too little breaths, too little beats of his heart, his feet too slow, not even hoping to match the swift and elegant movements of his dance partners.

Glancing at the stunning woman-like creature following him with her mournful gaze, Steven had been offered a sight of her tears. His heart ached for he saw her sadness; he wished to dry the salty droplets, to wipe them with the pad of his thumb, to kiss them away-- but his hands were trapped in strong grips of his companions, not allowing him to as much as budge.

Darkness edged his vision and more and more tears escaped the wells of her eyes. Before Steve realized what was to happen, his worn feet tangled and he collapsed to the ground, grass and moss soft and damp under his cheek.

The music and singing didn’t cease, the circle simply shifting few feet away so his heavy body wouldn’t be in the way of the ancient dance, old as time itself.

Steven’s vision blurred; the last thing he felt before his mind abandoned the feast of the forest spirits was the woman – for whose smile to see he would both kill and die – cupping his cheek.

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From the moment the sunrays ceased to paint the sky in warm colours, your heart appeared to be called out by a presence unknown to you until tonight.

Tonight--oh, the precious night, the dreaded night, as every year, a man would appear in the middle of the celebration of the gods and joined your circle, only to leave it before the fire could even begin to be lit.

Too weak, your sisters always whispered, dismissing the human as a lesser being, consumed by the feast, the most cherished night of the year.

It is to be as the Gods wish, they would laugh, pulling you back to the circle, the dance swift to take up all of your attention.

It is as it was meant to be, they would assure you as another soul left its vessel by the dawn, their elegant fingers scattering cowslips all over the cold body, enchantment whispered in deep voices resonating in your very soul, until the corpse was swallowed by the sacred ground.

You’d only contribute by tears, watering the earth with salt and sorrow, until your sisters – in soul, not blood – would hold your hands, tugging you to join them in collecting the sweetest dew, healing all plant life and animals, the magic of the previous night persisting in its droplets.

And as day blended into night and night into another day and night—you’d be soothed by the beautiful circle of life, for until the Walpurgis Night crept in anew and the history would repeat itself.

But tonight, oh, tonight, Gods bless this night and curse it-! Let it never end—for that the man who had appeared this night was too good, too beautiful, his presence blissful and warming, radiant, his kindness as if glowing through his whole being--- basking in his light alone brought tears of delight to your eyes—turning to ones of sorrow and terror when your sisters pulled him into your dance, a dance macabre for every ordinary human being.

Every human being; except you. Mother’s magic sheltered you, keeping you safe, but oh, oh, if he was to die, then who were you to live--

His eyes barely ever left you, as if he could hear the trees whispering it was you, it was on your conscience; pointing their barky fingers at you, they accused you of every life lost and the truth they revealed. All the men, they had been seeking you, seeing to bring you to the castle where you had been stolen from and then left to die.

They don’t deserve you, Findling. You are ours to protect, ours to love. Don’t you love us too? Have we not given you home? You are safer in the forest than with them; they gave you up before.

And the truth they spoke too, your sisters; here you were welcomed. Only Gods withheld the secret of what would await you in the city. It could be death for all you had learned.

And did you not belong here?

Were you not grateful enough to stay?

Not tonight-- oh, tonight, you wished to leave, to redeem the kind soul trapped in the claws of death, ugly claws slowly dragging him away since the moment his strong body found its nest on the forest floor.

Breaking the circle was an offence, the greatest; yet, your heart begged you to do so, to hasten to kneel by the handsome and the oh, oh so good stranger, your fingers tracing his lovely features, gazing into his eyes – the colour of the sky meeting a glassy surface of the lake – watching you intently until they fell close.

Tears dampened your cheeks, the swirl and twirl of the wind and dance cooling them down, but only vainly hoping to sooth the burn in your heart, the pounding ache.

Your sisters let you, finishing their gift to the Gods, the exquisite dance of life and only then, Aeliana kneeled beside you, fingers curling around your wrist and pulling you away, your handsome stranger remaining motionless aside from shallow breaths, thin clothing over his body and nothing else; he had discarded it all, left at the mercy to the cold of the night. Just like every man before.

“Come, Findling, leave the fellow to his fate.”

Your feet moved unwillingly, step after step building a distance from him, your head spinning from the ache squeezing your chest.

Could she not see?

“He’s of such kind heart, sister. Should we not spare him? Do we not protect kind men from harm?” you queried, interceding on his behalf.

Such a handsome man he was. And his soul, so gentle-

“Kind as he might be, he shall meet the fate the Gods have prepared for him. Come now, little Findling, the fire is to be lit soon!”

Your vessel heavier than you remembered, you followed her back to the gyration of joy, sparing your stranger one more longing glance.

“May the Gods protect you for you are already dear to me,” you prayed for him, having no power similar to your sisters to keep him safe, your words nothing but simple sound. “May the Gods protect you.”

And should they not, then I will.

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Cold seeping into his bones was the cause of a rude awakening; his fingers and his toes hurting, a biting coolness blended into pain with how insistently it clawed at him.

A shudder shook his whole frame and for several moments, as he walked the thin line between wakefulness and the bliss of a dream, Steven remembered how he had once believed that the sensation would be everlasting. He thought so every winter, when due to ever-present cold, his weak body suffered from the illness with ferocity unknown to stronger men.

He grew up strong and healthy, yet the memories of icy cold remained, a reminder of how he had to be grateful for every little blessing in life. Steve didn’t recall feeling such cold for few winters now, certainly not when welcoming a new day; and a new day it was, the sun, lacking its summer warmth still, danced behind his closed eyelids.

A weight on his chest wasn’t feeling any more familiar, far from the sensation his covers ever offered and that, more than anything, caused him to open his eyes.

Steven was welcomed by green; a green of the meadow, a green of the lindens and oaks and… and a fading green of a wreath resting on the head of the sweetest creature lying – to his profound astonishment – on his chest.

His heart sang as he recognized her soft features at instant.

It was her. The beautiful woman with the mesmerizing regretful eyes was sleeping on his chest, covered in droplets of dew, sparkling in her hair and in the withered flowers of her wreath, causing her to look even more ethereal than the night before. She felt a warm feather-light weight on him despite the see-through spiderweb-thin fabric, only so-so covering her fragile body in places where Steven’s eyes shouldn’t even wander if he was to remain proper.

He observed her, perplexed and grateful to Gods; what for he wasn’t certain yet. For letting her live?

She appeared so dream-like, so fragile, yet her body kept its warmth as if not affected by the freezing cold biting into Steven’s own skin. He would have thought he had been the one to protect her from freezing to death; and yet somehow, it appeared as if it was the exact opposite. When he swallowed against the lump forming in his throat and found courage to trace the pads of his fingers over her bare arm, her skin felt soft and warm, unlike his.

The breathing weight on him shifted at his daring touch and Steven would have regretted disturbing her sleep hadn’t it been for her luscious lips parting, her small hand over his heart flexing in his shirt, the tinniest movement sending a strand of her hair tickling his face and wrapping him in a heady flowery scent.

Hadn’t he been lost to her the night before, he would have given her his heart the very moment her eyes fluttered open, thick eyelashes calling for attention, framing a pair of the most mesmerizing irises he had even seen.

Hours could fly by and Steven wouldn’t have noticed; not when her gaze lingered on his face, locked with his and then… then she smiled, a wide and yet soft curve of her lips and Steven, who might have suffered from cold gnawing his body only a moment before, felt his heart melt; wondering what had he done to be blessed by the Gods guiding this stunning fairy into his arms.

“You are to live,” her voice caressed him and his hand acted at its own will, curling around the smooth arm it had stroked earlier.

Only then, her words rang in his ears, their meaning, and he couldn’t but reciprocate her smile. A complete fool he was not; he had a solid ground for believing she was the very reason he was still breathing. All of his predecessors had caught their death, only for their armour and clothing to be discovered untouched; seeing as he had apparently shed his own as well, he hadn’t been meant to survive.

The stunning beauty on his chest had saved him from freezing to death.

“Yes, my beautiful fairy. I feel like I have you to thank to for such blessing,” Steven whispered reverently, his heart swelling in his chest. What had led her to such action? Why had she protected him? And how was she not freezing? Was it her magic? “How is it you are not cold yourself?”

Seemingly unbothered by his touch, she brought her palm to cup his bearded cheek, as she had the night before. “It’s a gift, one of many from mo-- oh Goddess, you must go, now-!”

Ignorant to the dread in her eyes, Steven revelled in her tender touch, nearly crying out when she withdrew and went to stood up in one graceful motion.

“Fairy mine, of what-“

“You must leave! Surely Mother would be furious to see I have not left you for death to take! Go, run-“

At her words, Steven’s brows furrowed. He did not want the woman’s mother to be angry with her for she had helped him. Climbing to his feet, bare toes stiffened and almost blue, he barely found his footing. His suddenly fearful fairy took his hand and guided him to where he had left his attire.

“Hurry-"

Steven’s body listened, his fingers, slightly numb from the cold, reaching for his chainmail and cloak; yet, his eyes remained fixed on her, basking in the light of her presence. She truly was exquisite; for all she had been breath-taking in the moonlight, in daylight she glowed brighter than the sun.

“What may I call you, fairy mine?”

Her delicate hands, frantically aiding him with his cloak, ceased their movements, resting on his shoulders as she looked up at his face and while confused, she replied with a gentle shook of her head, sending her silky hair sliding down her shoulders.

“I do not have a name. Mother and sisters call me Findling. It is of old language, it stands for a-“

“- foundling,” Steven stole the last word from her lips, astonished. At that moment, he could be knocked out with a feather. She was-- his beautiful savoir, his stunning fairy--- his hands rose to her cheek to caress the skin, impossibly warm given her modest clothing.

She truly was still alive. The long-lost princess, believed to be dead for years by nearly everyone… was still breathing, a tragically forfeit daughter growing into a beautiful woman with a heart of gold.

Her eyelashes fluttered, shy gaze lowering to the sacred ground.

“You’re human,” slipped past Steven’s parted lips and her features, already tender, softened as she elevated her gaze, irises deep as a sea and sorrowful for whichever cause.

“Yes.”

“I found you—no, you found me. You are--- come with me-!”

As if a lightning struck her very being, she slid from his grasp and retreated several steps, heading towards the trees. Without hesitation, Steven followed her light footsteps.

“We must go. You must leave the forest before the wrath of Mother finds you,” she said, voice carrying nothing of its earlier softness.

Steven mourned its loss; his strides much longer than hers, he stooped in her path and carefully took a hold of her wrists. She appeared agitated now, frustrated that he was thawing her plan to lead him to safety as quickly as she could.

He cradled her jaw then, seeing as she halted in her steps despite her indignation. Even angered, she was the most precious thing he had ever laid his eyes on.

“Why wouldn’t you come to the castle with me? Your family mourns you,” he whispered, his thumb stroking her cheek unwittingly. “And I-I--“

I can’t even think of not seeing you again. Your smile. Gods, your smile…

Lost to the emotions swirling in her eyes, dancing across her features, a sudden thunderclap snapped them from their intimate conversation, practically causing his heart to stop in fright.

Steven instinctively stepped between her and where the noise had emitted from; the menacing sound had not been sent from the sky, he was certain of it as the sun still illuminated both him and the Princess.

“Mother,” his fairy whispered fearfully, easily slipping between Steven and the woman-like creature materializing between the trees, only few steps from them.

Steven liked little what his beautiful foundling had done for he was supposed to be the one to protect her. However, he could barely deny that he stood no chance against the Goddess, the Mother. His muscles could not even hope to compare to her magic; and could he feel it, the power crackling like a lightning in the air, a premonition of a death sentence.

Before Steven could as much as speak a single word, his fierce defender fell to her knees, head bowed in submission to her judge and jury.

“Mother, please, punish me for my insolence, for my felony—but harm him not. He is nothing but an innocent soul, too good to-“ she pleaded frantically, voice honest and trembling, striking Steven right in his heart, causing his chest to tighten.

His stunning fairy, the kindness incarnated, begged for his life.

No hesitation. No remorse. No care for her own well-being.

“No!” Steven blurted out, sidestepping her, only to freeze in his tracks when the Mother raised her hand, commanding him to stop without uttering a word.

Stunned, Steven didn’t dare to speak more, to move an inch; the creature carried herself a Goddess indeed, the Queen of the woods, the sovereign of magic itself. Purple and red twirled in her eyes, strict and yet somewhat kind, powerful. She walked measuredly to the pair of them, her outstretched hand slowly falling until she could reach the precious fairy, palm laying down on her head, caressing her hair, sliding lower until she forced her to raise her chin.

Then, the Mother smiled a gracious smile, seeing her daughter’s tears, tears which made Steven’s ribcage ache. She spoke in a voice deep enough to touch Steven’s soul, mighty and yet gentle.

“Did you believe I would punish you, Findling?” she questioned, sorrowfully almost. “For the love you carry in your soul, your kindness to strangers whose good heart you see even without ability to match ours? No, my sweet child. But you shall be reminded of the warning.”

Steven stiffened further. What warning? Was a punishment still to be carried out? In contrary to her words- he could not let that happen, not to his little fairy he had only just found--

As if sensing his outrage, as if reading his thoughts – and for the briefest of moments, Steven wondered if the powerful creature possessed such ability –, she levelled her gaze with his, one corners of her lips twirling, her smile turning into something resembling a smirk.

“Be at ease, soldier, I do not wish to harm her, quite the opposite. We have her wellbeing in our hearts always,” she assured him, an army of women, actual fairies, appearing behind her back out of thin air, side by side, serene and beautiful. “You think us savages, son of Joseph. We are not. We would never abandon a child, crying and starving in the woods, left to die. Certainly not for a twisted vendetta.”

Struck by genuine surprise at both the sudden emerge of the ethereal creatures and the Mother’s words, Steven couldn’t let out a sound. He was rendered speechless, overtaken by the memory of Wanda addressing him the very name the Mother had, similar magic reflecting in her eyes.

What did it mean? What—how-

“If I should leave…” the former princess whispered, rising to her feet for her sovereign, only to be interrupted.

“You lose our protection, yes. You shall be an ordinary human again. Short of the joys our life brings.”

Steven found himself utterly lost in their conversation, a hunch nudging at his mind, an inkling of what the Goddess could mean by her words, painting a picture in his head he couldn’t quite grasp. Like a fool, he only observed the scene unfolding in front of him, feeling useless and ashamed for his inability to as much as move an inch.

“Thank you, Mother. Sisters,” his fairy bowed with a smile on her lips and tears sparkling in her eyes. “You have been kind to me. A true family. Perhaps the time has come for me to leave.”

The Mother smiled at her kindly, nodding and taking her hand between both of hers, squeezing gently.

“May your life rest in the hands of the good man tasked to bring you to your birthplace and tear you away from where you had found home.”

“May I… visit?” the Princess asked shyly, rewarded with a chorus of chuckles, thousands of tiny bells ringing in fine tune.

“You may always find a home with us shall you ever feel the desire.”

“I shall,” she echoed and turned to the awe-struck Steven, her shining eyes finding his gaze. “Shall we be on our way?”

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Your feet were on the verge of giving out; unfamiliar with the cold biting into your skin, every step a rough sensation, every branch and stolon hurting, each thorn felt like a dagger in your soles.

And yet�� your body was floating, a hand, gentle fingers, curled firmly around yours; you had lost sense of who was leading who. It was you and then it was him, it was a dance you had never knew and it had your breath caught in your chest; slightly painful, endlessly blissful.

The absence of words bothered you not. The chime of the birds and the whispers of trees carried a lovely tune and all was well.

“What will happen to you?” he asked, your handsome stranger, the kind soul calling out to yours since before your first encounter. “What was the… Goddess talking about?”

Moved by his concern for you, a brief smile passed your lips. You did not have the heart to tell him of the sensations, so human, yet unknown to you. You could sense it already, a true weariness – and finally, the vivacity too. You were nothing but a human again, the protective spell, casted upon you to keep you from harm commonly deadly to ordinary men, fading.

“Oh, Mother? Do not wear your head, I shall be quite alright,” you assured him and he, the sweet man he was, raised your hand to his face, caressing its back with his lips ever so softly.

“It is my duty to wear my head for you, fairy mine…”

His duty was it not. A heart-warming sentiment? Certainly. Your smile widened, a hiss escaping your lips only a moment later.

A sharp pain cut through your sole again, a shiver running through your whole being.

Cold and pain; your life from now on.

Faster than you could hope to comprehend, your companion stopped in his tracks, kneeling in front of you, tender and rough fingers examining your left foot; to your astonishment, a red liquid stained your cold skin, thick and heady. Blood. You had never bled before.

Genuine worry creased his forehead, his bright eyes looking up at your face as your teeth sunk into your lower lip; partly to cover your pain, partly from guilt as he observed you with tender accusation.

Pulling out a knife, he released your shaky foot in order to cut off a band of fabric from his thick cloak, swift fingers wrapping it around your wound.

“Thank-- thank you,” you stuttered, taken aback by the strange sensation of the cloth against your skin, your world swaying to side for a bit. You were bleeding, the fluid of life leaving your veins. So strange.

He shook his head, rising to his full height; a peculiar thrill it gave you, tilting your head back to maintain eye-contact. Mesmerized by the colour of his irises, you barely noticed he stripped the cloak, securing it over your bare shoulders.

Before you could utter a word of protest, he scooped you into his strong arms, cradling you as if you belonged there and nowhere else. A feeling of infinite rightness overwhelmed you, nearly rendering you speechless.

“Oh no, put me down. It only is a brief faintness and pain-“

Securing you in his hold as if he had not heard you, his embrace grew firmer and looked into your eyes with gravity.

“You are not to walk barefoot, let alone on such cold morning, in the woods no less,” he argued, his hands warm against your unusually cold skin, his fingers caressing you and effectively causing words to get stuck in your throat. Taking a notice of your sudden speechlessness, he smiled. “Rest, little fairy. I will protect you.”

“I am not a fairy, son of Jo-“

“Steven. You should call me Steven, shall you be willing.”

As delighted as you were to learn his name at last, your concern remained unshaken.

“You will tire yourself… Steven.”

Swallowing the peculiar sensation of thrill his name created on your tongue, you busied yourself with the matter of his wellbeing. He soon would exhaust himself should he carry you. Surely, he must know that? He was strong, yes, an impressive mass of a man, shoulders which could carry the weight of the world and the curses of all Gods shall it come to it… but-

“With what, my sweetness?” he questioned lightly and began to walk. “You barely weight more than a feather. And you do appear a fairy to me. Beautiful. Ethereal. Like a fairy from the tales told to the good children so they would dream a sweet dream.”

Charmed by the compliments, your heart felt like it grew in size, filling your chest with each beat, sweet and dizzying. Uncertain how to show your gratitude and favour, you reached out. Your palm cupped Steven’s jaw, a touch featherlight indeed.

His breath caught in his chest and for a moment, you worried you must have done something which was not to his liking. But then, he nuzzled your palm, eyelids falling shut, a soft smile painted on his lips and you understood you had merely surprised him by your actions.

“You are too good to me, Steven.“

“Oh, my sweet fairy… you are too. Know, I would lay down my life for you this instant if you asked me to.”

An uncomfortable lump grew in your throat at such admission, tears stinging in your eyes as you thought of how little would suffice for him to meet his death for you, only the night prior.

“I would never ask. So many have lost their lives for me… I am feeling the deepest regret-“ you sobbed and his arms wound around you tighter as if shielding you from grief and regret weighing both your heart and conscience.

“It is not for you to blame yourself for what your father has done to find you.“

“Steven-“

His lips—oh Gods, his lips, warm and tender, brushed your palm still laid on his jaw, then proceeded to your forehead, warm breath caressing your hair. You lost your voice at the affection gifted to you, a single silent tear rolling down your cheek.

“Oh, sweetness, my name on your lips is like music…” he whispered, voice low and thick with emotion that sent a shiver – this time somehow pleasant – down your spine. “Lay your head down now, fairy mine. We have a journey ahead of ourselves still. I shall watch over your sleep like you have watched over mine.”

Your hand hesitantly slid from his neck, settling on his chest, his strong and oh so kind heart humming under your palm. Obediently you laid your head into the crook of his neck, a scent unknown but pleasant curling around you, causing your head to spin.

You closed your eyes and laid your life into the hands of the good man who had come to bring you back where you had been born; precisely as Mother had said.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

He had been greeted with delighted shouts full of excitement and surprise, people dropping whatever had they had on their hands only to follow him as he had carried his fairy, the Princess, to the castle, to her family.

The King and the Queen had been spending over a day with the long-lost princess, agreeing she truly was who she was, while Steven had been treated like a knight, provided with luxury unknown to him, luxury he found unnecessary; yet, who he was to refuse and offend the hospitability? Especially should it outrage the King?

Facing King Anthony now, he was asked to rise from his knee as he was promised to receive the greatest honours, enough food and money for a lifetime and a place at King’s Guard.

“You have done my kingdom an inestimable service, Steven. What else do you ask? Say the word and your wish should be granted,” the King of Starkerbürg offered generously, gesturing to encourage him to speak his mind.

And Steven wondered.

What could a man wish for? What more than he had been offered? For the people he loved to be treated in the same manner? Certainly, he could demand that? To give his friends a wedding they deserved, to ensure they would never have to worry about a place to lay down their heads, about feeding their children and themselves?

As his mind wandered to his friends, so deeply in love, he couldn’t but think of the Princess, of his beautiful, precious fairy. Oh, how had he already missed her, not having seen her for two days almost. His heart ached for her smile, for her soft touch.

However, a fool he was not. Asking for her hand would be unacceptable. The King would never allow it for Steven was nothing still; the King would never agree to wed a potential heiress to anyone but a lord, a prince of another land perhaps. Steven would be not surprised should the King already set plans in motion to offer her hand to his friend, Prince Thor of Asgard.

Steven couldn’t even dare to ask for what an insolence- a laughable demand would it be.

Swallowing his grief at that, his heart torn, a gaping wound in his chest, he asked for a fraction of what he desired. What more could he wish for that for being allowed to bask in her presence at least? Watching her afar, yes, but perhaps… he could speak a word with her, from time to time-

“My King… I—”

“Yes, Steven, please. Speak. I am listening,” King Anthony hurried him, short of impatient.

Shy and bold at the same time, Steven could barely raise his voice enough to be heard.

“Shall the Princess ever agree to it when she is recovered… may I—may I speak with her again?”

The crease forming on the King’s forehead meant nothing good and Steven stiffened, instantly scolding himself.

A fool! Natalia always told him he was one. The most foolish of all fools!

“Of what could you possibly speak with her? What motivation could you have? Perhaps… why should she ever as much as look at you, Steven?”

Squeezing his eyes shut, Steven lost all will to speak as his voice betrayed him. He shook his head in defeat.

“Oh no, please. Do enlighten me,” the King continued, slowly rising from his seat, towering above Steven due to the three steps which led to the throne.

Steven bowed, shaking his head again. “Forgive me, my King. I should never have asked such a daring question-“

“Oh no, colour me curious, I would like to know what you have to say to me to this matter.”

“My King, I do apologize, I—I-“

A suffocating silence fell on the Royal Hall when Steven trailed off, tension heavy and menacing as he could sense the realization dawning to his King.

A complete fool, Steven. For all he survived the journey to the woods, he returned only to be beheaded by the King for a moment of rash boldness. A damn half-wit!

A gasp left the King’s lips and Steven clenched his jaw, hanging his head, awaiting his sentence.

Blood pounded in Steven’s temples, growing in intensity with each moment no words were spoken.

Two sharp claps of hands, as loud as a thunder in the empty hall, bounced off the walls instead and a rustling of chainmail instantly followed, heavy boots rushing to King’s aid.

Without much decorum, brute force knocked Steven down to his knees, a sharp pain jolting up his joints as they dug into the hard floor, one pair of firm hands pushing him down, another grabbing his wrists to keep them locked behind his back.

“Gods protect us from minds as feeble as yours,” King Anthony snarled, awe-struck and outraged all the same.

A pang of longing gnawed at Steve’s heart as his suspicions were confirmed. While the indignation at being thought of as of a lesser human being flared in his chest, the injustice nothing short of irritating, he didn’t utter a word. A harsh hand gripped his jaw, yanking it upward, forcing him to look into King’s eyes where rage twirled with contempt.

“You foolish nitwit! How could you even think I would ever allow you to—to WHAT? Court her? Gods forbid wed her?! To put your—your filthy hands on her?! Oh my, MY! You will not as much as LOOK at her ever again, you UNDERSTAND?! Gods- you--- you- TAKE HIM! Dungeon! Right this instant! You fool, you scum, you PERV!! Get him off my sight-!”

Yanked up without fight on his side – because truly, what the point would be, he was in the castle, he wouldn’t escape the many men of King’s Guard –, Steven was dragged away, meeting the raged glare of the King for the shortest of moments. King’s much obvious disgust hurt, but not nearly as much as the thought of never seeing her again.

His beautiful, ethereal fairy.

Because he would never as much as get a glimpse of her ever again--- or perhaps he would, at his own execution? The King would make a huge spectacle of it, he was sure-

The heavy door to the hall were pushed open, Queen Virginia walking through them gracefully, the guards only bowing their heads frantically before they proceeded to tug Steven away.

Steven’s heart ceased to beat when his eyes fell on her; no, not the Queen, but her companion; and then it started singing, bliss and delight at his wish being granted not by the King, then by the Gods themselves.

She carried herself as light as she had when he had seen her the first time, the night of Walpurgis, shining brighter than the moonlight, than the sun itself, as exquisite in her royal blue gown as she had appeared in her modest attire of thin white fabric.

Gods, she appeared ethereal and where the Queen’s shoes clicked against the floor, hers tapped, causing Steven to smile. She might be wearing a dress worth a months’ living, but she remained barefoot. He would be afraid about her catching cold; however, he rested assured that her newfound family and servants would never allow it to go as far.

Where Queen’s brown furrowed, her face lighted up impossibly at the sight of him; and Steven knew he would die a happy man. Such delight in her eyes was the greatest gift he could be given and he shall accept it and take it to afterlife.

“My King,” the Queen greeted her husband shortly, apparently confused at the scene unfolding in front of her. Steven paid her no mind as the gaze of his stunning fairy followed him, the spark in her eye fading, clouded by bewilderment. Steven’s chest tightened at the loss. “What-“

“Wait!” the Princess piped up and Gods bless, the guards halted in their steps, hesitant gazes casted upon their king in question. “What is it we have walked into?”

The King instantly fixed a smile for the newcomers, not providing an answer to the guards on how they should proceed. Who should they listen to? The King or the Princess, an unfamiliar woman put on a pedestal?

“Oh, simply a little quarrel, dear sister. Worry not your pretty head.”

Steven grinded his teeth at the patronizing approach.

She was not a child; and naïve she might be, untrained in the procedures of the court, but feeble-minded she was not. She might have not grown up around ordinary men, but her eyes displayed wit and understanding of human nature deeper than of several people Steven had encountered.

Her gaze flickered between the King, the Queen and Steven and her face lost any resemblance of a smile for a moment long enough to bring sorrow to everyone present. Her eyes lingered on Steven the longest and while aware he should not, he basked in her softened expression, his chest heaving in pride.

A brief smile passed her lips as she turned to her brother, her long eyelashes fluttering. Steven couldn’t take his eyes off of her. She was a dream coming to life.

“A little quarrel? Then surely it can be solved without such violent behaviour, without handling a man, who brought me home, with brute force,” she said, innocence incarnated.

Her gaze flickered to Steven again, a spark of emotion he couldn’t hope to unravel in them.

King Anthony wavered, silent for a moment as expectant gazes of his wife and his sister were casted upon him. Pretending to be mollified by his sister’s remark, he beckoned to his Guard to release Steven; much to Steven’s surprise.

Upon that action, his brilliant fairy smiled brightly, her fingers getting a hold of her skirts to get it out of her way, scampering to Steven as the guards took a step back. And Steve truly could die a happy man at such gesture, feeling blessed. She chose to grace him with her attention; him, not the King, her brother.

Against his will, a smile formed on his lips, all ache disappearing from his chest, his knees, his roughly handled wrists. Her whole demeanour glowed with sincerity as she came to a stop only a step from him, her head tilted back a fraction as he stood taller above her.

From the corner of his eye, Steve could see the King stiffen, his hands balled in fists. Steven paid him little attention; how could he do any different with the breath-taking woman so close to him, looking up at his face with her full lips curled up in an inviting smile, eyes mesmerizing as always?

“You are not to walk barefoot,” he remarked, quickly catching himself and in hope to maintain at least some etiquette, he took one painful step back, bowing to her, “Your Highness.”

The grind of King’s teeth could be heard as Steven spoke up without permission. In all honesty, Steven had no care in the world. If he was to die, he might as well walk through paradise before meeting his end.

“Whatever has happened to ‘my fairy?’” she questioned sweetly, eyes full of wonder, the corners of her lips losing its happy curve.

In another world, a world outside the lovebirds’ little universe, the King was searing, nothing but a growl coming deeply from his chest. Queen Virginia laid a soothing hand over his heart, scolding him by one single look for his barbarian ways.

In his own paradise, Steven’s heart pounded and swelled, touched by his fairy’s hopeful question. He cleared his throat as a lump grew in it, torn between the need wrap her in his love and keeping his head on his shoulders rather than have it cut off.

As much as he was in her favour, surely the King would hate him should he as much as attempt to court her.

“It is not proper, Your Highness. I should have not-“

“But you should, Steven!” she whispered feverishly, her tender hands cupping his face, tears turning her eyes glassy. Steven’s breath hitched, his insides twisting painfully. “Or do you not feel for me what you have felt before?”

The very moment, Steven realized he could not care less about being a fool as long as he would be a fool for her. His shoulders hunching, he bended down to meet his beauty’s gaze properly, his palm covering the back of her hand on him, caressing affectionately.

“Oh, sweetness, fairy mine, I shall cherish you for as long as I live,” he declared. Which might not be too long, he thought, considering the King fuming as he watched them, prepared to tell the guards to pierce Steven’s heart with a sword right here and now, apparently.

However, the beautiful smile reappeared, a single tear rolling down her cheek as one of her hands slipped lower to rest against his chest, feeling his heart hammering no doubt.

“Then I shall hope you will live long…” she whispered, inching away to look at the King with undying hope indeed. “Shall I not, brother mine?”

Oh, feeble-minded she was not and she very much did understand what she had walked into.

If Steven was bold enough to read anything into her actions, her gestures, her affection, he would believe she carried him in her heart, in her mind as much as he had been in his and truly-- when had he deserved such blessing?

“Oh, for Gods’ sake! You want to keep him?!” the King demanded, exasperated as he was aware his question was nothing short of pointless for her favour was evident.

“Keep him? In my heart? Oh, how I wish for it, brother dear!”

The King shuddered at the addressing, moved by her voice holding such joy and wistfulness. Oh, how she had him wrapped around her finger! Her persona was as enchanting as the night Steven had encountered her; a human and yet a fairy, her charms stronger than the magic of the forest creatures who could only wish to match its power!

“Husband. Anthony…” the Queen chimed in, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. “Do you not recall your father’s disapproval? Fond of your choice was he not. Not fond of me in the slightest.”

“For he was a fool,” the King scoffed, meeting his wife’s gaze.

“Then do not be the same fool,” she retorted and despite himself, Steven couldn’t stop the corners of his lips twitching, more so when the King pouted at his wife’s remark.

Peace in his mind, recognizing his head was not to be chopped off in the near future, Steven feasted his eyes on the stunning fairy, her touch still soft on his cheeks, her smile illuminating the Royal Hall, nothing but pure love as she gazed up at him.

The King grumbled something incomprehensible, sighed and finally gave his approval.

The Princess’ laughter rang loud and joyful as she dropped her hands from Steven’s face in order to run to her brother, assaulting him with a fierce hug which caused the King to stumble backwards.

“Thank you, brother! Thank you! I would have come back to the woods should you not-“

“Whoa, whoa! No woods, you stay right here, even if it’s with this fo-“

“I am so happy, brother mine!” Her kiss smacked on the King’s cheek, his sudden panic resolving, an actual blush colouring his face, much to Queen Virginia’s amusement.

“Alright, alright, no need to smooch me, young lady-“

While was the King in fact basking in the affection from his long-lost sister despite his words demanding restraint, his eyes met with Steven’s. And for the briefest of moments, they shared a deep understanding; a similar knowledge of what was of the highest import.

As long it would make her happy, they would do anything. Even put up with each other’s presence.

Without a warning, the Princess left her brother’s embrace again and rushed back to Steven’s arms. Worrying not for being scolded and executed anymore, he smiled at her widely and welcomed her, hands locked on the back of her thighs, lifting her from the floor so she towered over him for once.

Awed at the heights she found herself in, she bent down to Steven’s face, her lips brushing his, loving and euphoric; her kiss sealed the deal and their happy beginning.

No one – not the grumbling King or his Queen, not the delighted Princess Fairy or her beloved, let alone the still perplexed members of the King’s Guard – noticed the gust of wind dashing through the Royal Hall and the silent click of the door.

In a ramshackle house at the edge of the town, Wanda smiled when her brother brought her the joyful news and her fingers brushed the powerful pendent, a gift from her Mother, once more resting heavy on her chest.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･

Notes: Yes, it got away from me, AGAIN, and more than usual. Sorry?

I hope you had not been repulsed by the possibly crappy and totally mixed up representation of old religions; then again I think all is fair in a fairy tale AU 😇 Also, sorry if the language sounds weird; I tried.

I’d like to thank @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan once more for letting me participate in her challenge and I thank you all who have made it to the very end of this long-ass fic. Any feedback is always appreciated.

P.S. - if you feel brave enough, I’d be delighted if checked out my Masterlist

#star’s celebration challenge #marvel #fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #fairy tale au #writing challenge #steve rogers imagine #captain america x reader #captain america imagine #mcu au #steve rogers #captain america #reader insert #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #long read #walpurgis night #anika ann #star's celebration challenge

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solei28 · 4 years ago

Text

Up in Smoke (Bucky/Reader)-Chapter 1

Up In Smoke Mater List

“We need you to back up the data now, Dr. Watts,” Captain Montgomery told you throwing a flash drive onto your desk.

You looked at him raising an eyebrow. “I’m not finished with my report. I’ll back it up when I am.”

“Not an option. They’ve come.”

It’s about damn time. You nodded at the captain and grabbed the drive. “It will take some time. Can you hold them back until it’s done?”

Montgomery walked to the door. “I’ll try my best. No promises.”

You knew he wouldn’t be able to. You shoved the drive into the USB port and began backing up the files. The door slammed behind you and you knew you’d never see him again.

The files were slow going and you knew they would get to you before the backup was complete. At least I’ll be done with this façade. You had been working undercover at the HYDRA facility for six months. Director Fury of SHIELD secured your false paperwork and got you in so you could track what they have been up to. HYDRA was slippery. Every time the Avengers and SHIELD thought they took them down, they would pop up in another part of the world.

Fury had heard about you through the pipeline. An elite soldier that could infiltrate, dismember and take down an entire government in a single night without ever being seen. He found you in a small town in Denmark. You were trying to live a quiet life after early retirement. Fury could see you were bored and needed to get back into the fold.

“I’m not going to force you to join SHIELD. I just need your help taking down HYDRA,” Fury told you over a cup of coffee. “After that, you can walk away.”

You were happy to take his offer. It got you back in the game and man how you have missed it. It came to you so naturally, putting on a persona and fooling the staff. You befriended a few other doctors easily and got loads of information on projects you weren’t involved in.

Now, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes had come and put an end to your little game. Finally. All you had to do now was download the files and pass them over. Well, at least that’s what Fury wants you to do. You, however, wanted to have some fun.

You heard gunshots and chaos ensuing on the other side of the door. The files were 75% complete.

“With all that HYDRA has been able to accomplish, you’d think their computers would run faster,” you said out loud, rolling your eyes.

Standing up from your chair, you began to stretch. You knew it would only be a matter of moments before the Avengers came bursting through the door. The gunshots were closer now. The files were at 85% completion. You heard heavy footsteps coming closer to the door. You smiled to yourself, ready for the fun to begin.

The door swung open with such a force, it hit the wall, where it stood embedded into it. The files are at 96%.

“Ma’am, step away from the computer,” a gravelly voice commanded from behind you.

“Give it a moment to finish, first,” you said over your shoulder. “It’s at 98% and counting.”

“Ma’am, please just step away from the computer,” the voice stated again slowly walking to your right.

“100%,” you said snatching up the drive. You turned to face the man behind the voice. Raising an eyebrow, you said, “Now, I’m ready to step away from the computer, Sergeant Barnes.”

Your face was unreadable, but inside you were bursting with excitement. You were standing in front of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes. You were going to have some fun indeed.

He took a cautious step toward you, hand out. “Hand me the drive, ma’am.”

You held the drive up and smiled at him, eyes dancing mischievously. “And, what do I get out of it if I do?”

James can see he’s going to have to take it by force. He studies you as he takes another step forward. “Listen, Ma’am. You really don’t want this fight. Just hand me the drive and let’s be done with this.” One more step forward.

“But, this drive is very important. So, if I’m going to give it up, I need to make sure I’m getting something in return.” Now, it’s your turn to take a step forward. “What are you willing to offer me, Serge?” you purr.

James can’t help the smile that spread across his face. What is this woman playing at? “You work for HYDRA, so there’s nothing I can do. And, since you know who I am, you should know I am not very keen on helping HYDRA.” He takes another step forward.

“Well, if you won’t help me, why should I help you?” you huff out and pout. “That’s not fair.”

James is growing impatient. “Lady, give me the drive before I take you from you.”

“Now I’m really not gonna give it to you with that attitude,” you say raising an eyebrow and take a step back.

James huffs air out of his nose taking a big step and closing the gap between you two. He is truly an intimidating specimen. He hovers over you, eyes intense and mouth in a thin line. You know he’s had enough of your games. However, your shenanigans have only just begun.

The super-soldier is fast, grabbing your wrist. His grip is firm but he doesn’t hurt you. He knows his strength and what he is capable of. He can’t say the same about you, though. You give him a wink and sly smile. Then, in a split second, he’s holding nothing. You were gone and the only thing left was a thick cloud of dark grey smoke where you had been standing.

James opens his hand and looks at it completely bewildered. What the fuck just happened? He whirls around when he hears you tut from behind him.

The confusion on his face makes you laugh. “Weren’t expecting that now were you, Sergeant?”

“So, HYDRA is making enhanced scientists now. I guess it’s one way to protect their precious research,” James spits out.

You hold up your hands defensively. “Whoa there. You’re assuming a bit much. HYDRA didn’t make me. No one made me.”

James tilts his head to one side like a puppy, eyes boring into you. You could see the wheels in his head turning. He was trying to put the pieces together. “You’re a mutant?”

“Born and raised,” you say proudly.

“So, HYDRA is hiring mutants as scientists, then. Won’t help you get out of this building with that drive, sweetheart.” James lunged at you.

This time he ended up choking on the grey smoke left where you popped out of existence. Now, you were at the door waving the drive mockingly at him.

“I might be wrong, but I think my mutant abilities are exactly what’s going to get me out of this building.”

James just smirked at you. “Wanna bet?”

You smiled wickedly at him. “Hell yes. When you lose, you’ll have to take me out to dinner.”

“Dinner?” James shakes his head even more confused. “Why would I do that? You work for HYDRA?”

You tut at him, waving a finger. “Still assuming my dear Sergeant.”

“Who the hell are you?” He cannot wrap his head around you.

“The girl that’s about to win a dinner date with you,” you say and wink.

“I don’t think so, lady,” a voice says from behind you before you’re abruptly turned to face them.

“Hello, Cap,” you say to Steve Rogers. You feel James come up behind you. “Oh, my. Look at me, sandwiched between two super soldiers,” you say in mock distress. “Whatever shall I do?”

James goes to grab the drive from your hand. And, again, you’re gone leaving the cloud of smoke where you were. He looks at Steve, venom in his eyes.

“I hope you know a nice place to make a reservation at. Preferably a place that has really good seafood.” You are standing in front of a large window at the end of the hallway.

James and Steve look at each other then back at you. You could see the anger coupled with confusion on their faces. Steve talks into his comms to let the others know your location before both men run towards you.

“I’m done playing games with you. Give me the drive. Now!” James says throwing a punch at you. You easily dodge it and dance around him, avoiding Steve’s blow as well.

The men are putting in a lot of effort trying to land a hit on you. You were much too quick for them. It was effortless, the way moved out of harm’s way without even using your powers. Finally, Steve threw a haymaker at you and caught it in your hand. Now, it was your turn.

Steve cannot believe how strong you are, turning his wrist to the point of dislocating it before kicking him in the abdomen. It sent him several feet back. James came in with a jab that you sidestepped allowing you to grab his arm. Using his own momentum, you easily flipped him onto his back.

You looked up to see Steve throw his shield at you. When it was mere inches from your face, you used your powers and let it pass through the smoke and break the window behind you. As you popped back into existence, both men were already trying to subdue you again. Now, you were just smoking in out of their blows causing the men to hit each other. Finally, you grabbed both fists coming at you in each hand.

You kicked Steve in the gut and sent him flying back before turning your full attention on James. “This was fun. Can’t wait for our date.” Before he can say or do anything you spartan kick him. He falls flat on his ass and you laugh. In another cloud of smoke, you’re gone, reappearing outside of the window.

James gets up and runs towards the window, jumping out of it, trying to get his hands on you. Just as he’s about to grab your arm, he hears Fury’s voice.

“That won’t be necessary, soldier. She’s with us.”

“What?” James spits out.

You smile innocently. “I told you you were assuming too much,” you say and toss the drive to Fury.

“Smoke was working on my orders at this facility. She’s the reason you all were able to infiltrate this base. We owe her a lot,” Fury explained.

James looked at you shaking his head angrily. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Oh, come on. I was just looking to have a little fun. Do you know how boring and dull it is to work with all these lab coats? I needed a bit of exercise and you just happened to be my workout partner.” You smiled at him.

James looked like he was about to have an aneurysm. “That was all for fun?”

“Yeah, and I got a date out of it.” You winked at him. Then, you put your fingers to your mouth and whistled. “I take it we’re done here?” You say to Fury.

“For now. I’ll need you to come by the office later for a debriefing.”

You nod and turn to see your ride galloping towards you. The 6’5 black Clydesdale came to a halt in front of you. You smile fondly at the robotic demon horse. He was your pride and joy. “Hey, I missed you buddy.” You climb on his back and look down at the James. “Remember, a place that has good seafood.”

James is left there, mouth open watching as you gallop away. He has so many questions. The first of which is when the hell was he going to see you again so he could make the reservation.

Hey, if you guys enjoy my content and want to help me continue creating it, consider buying me a coffee. It will help a ton!

@babygurl8840 @thenerdgirl10 @booktease21 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @suitelifedeluxe @thisisablogiguess2

#writing #bucky x reader #bucky barns imagine #Bucky Barnes #Avengers #AO3 fanfic #fanfiction #metal gear #soleizcreations #solid snake

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hanasheralhaminail · 6 years ago

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Scandalous! The secret love affair everybody knew about

This was actually a little Spirk article I did for the 5th issue of ThisSimpleFanzine, but since it’s not coming out, I thought I’d post it here!

For years we’ve guessed and wondered, was there something more between Starfleet’s golden Captain Kirk and his infuriatingly unflappable Commander Mister Spock? These times of doubt are over, for we finally have proof!

The hottest Command team in Federation space is officially an item! And there are pictures!

So hold on to your seats, dear readers, and try to contain your enthusiasm as we leak our best shots for your amusement.

On stardate 2264.09, the Enterprise docked at planet Risa for a bit of R&R, and her crew were offered the best facilities to stay at and enjoy. Luckily for us, our faithful photographer Shalas were spending their long-due vacation right there, and their instinct for a good scoop kicked in as soon as they laid eyes on the elusive Captain… walking arm in arm with his First Officer!

The two looked supercute (in their opinion, but see for yourselves) and also quite sneaky, if you get my meaning – they vanished into thin air a moment after, so Shalas decided to keep their eyes open and contacted yours truly, which is how we came to gather this juicy piece of news!

But let’s get down to business – I know you’re dying for the tasty bits.

Shalas and I went to take a stroll by the Fireflies Plane – because there’s nothing more romantic than the crimson hues of Risa’s sky melting into the sea – and whom do we catch? The infamous Captain James Tomcat Kirk making goo-goo eyes at an equally love-struck Vulcan over Lovers’ Bridge.

Just look at that delicious smile on Mister Spock’s face as his Captain steals a kiss! Aren’t they positively adorable? I think Kirk caught us, but he graciously said nothing. We left them to their privacy, but only after snapping these blessed shots just for you!

This is proof enough, right? But it’s not all, dear readers, for two days later we tracked the elusive pair into a field, and… there’s so much to unpack in these pictures – isn’t my partner a genius?

First of all, the hand-holding: that’s some spicy behaviour for a prim and proper Vulcan like Mister Spock – we were treated to the sight of the couple making out!

Second, the human kissing. Human kissing is so very quaint, don’t you think? The species is capable of much affection.

Thirdly: is that a green blush we see on your face, Mister Spock? And are you wearing your Captain’s clothes? (Kirk has worn those overalls on previous occasions; see articles attached).

To sum up: Captain Kirk and Commander Spock spent the whole duration of their shore leave together, walking around the planet hand-in-hand and generally behaving like a newly-wed couple. Are we to assume they eloped? How will Starfleet react? Were we deprived of what would have surely been a grand wedding?

Worry not, my beloved Shalas and I will investigate!

What we already know is that the Command team is expected to take an extensive leave on New Vulcan, along with some members of the bridge crew (including the much-feared Doctor Leonard H. McCoy).

Could this be the union we’ve all been waiting for?

We’ll let you know.

Never give up, never surrender!

M’Ranes

#spirk #spirk fanfiction #aos spirk #star trek #star trek aos #k/s #my art #my writing #love #journalism #news #articles #spock #james t. kirk #t'hy'la #space husbands #fanfiction

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thepageofa1000worlds · 6 years ago

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Pairing: James Conrad x reader Part 1 · Part 2 · Part 3 · Part 4 · Part 5 · Part 6 ·

Synopsis: After having left thing uncompleted and unresolved with James Conrad 3 years ago, you two find yourself again in the kong island. What happened three years ago with you two? How is it that you got to make part of an expeditionary mission?

Song: LP - No Witness

Warnings: it’s a six part mini-series.

A/N: I love the movie Kong and Tom Hiddleston playing Captain James Conrad has a lot to do with it. I out a lot of time to this, most of it editing.

Words: 2418

“ Dear Billie, you’ve ever looked inside a hurricane and decide, maybe I should fly straight to it,” said mills over the coms “ Cause that's what’s about to happen”

You were sure these people had something missing in their head. Up ahead was nothing pretty and as much as you trusted your abilities as a pilot, you didn’t trust the bolts of lightning that were happening inside the storm. You knew Randa and he was right, the timing for that low-pressure pocket could be over in any time. Which would ruin the chance you've got for this expedition.

“ you know what? I want to meet Billie,” You said, as you heard them laugh.

“ Oh, Oh, Oh,” said Packard, “ Queen fox it’s in formation”

That was you, named that way as an internal joke that you were sure had already stuck with you. Packard had been the one to teach you to fly after your father had requested him to. He was like the cool uncle outside the family.

You weren’t a soldier or anything like it, however, you were known for being a great pilot.“ In position, fox leader” mostly because he himself had taught you.

“ Dear Billie, you may wanna hang on” added Cole, as you and all helicopter entered the cloud. The sound of the lightning so close made you want to scream.

“ How are you queen fox?” that was Chapman mocking you over the coms, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes.

As best as you could you tried to maintain control of the helicopter, every lightning seemed to be closer, so much that the static could be felt in the air. Every second was a miracle, air pulling the helicopter from one direction to the next; up and then down in a blink of an eye. You notice how the helicopter were all being pulled just as you were and how close they got from one another.

Every muscle in your body tense, your jaw clenched and your breaths became quick. Your heart was hammering like a drum against your ribs, cold sweat forming on your forehead and your knuckles were white of how strong you were holding the joystick.

Packard was telling the story of Icarus, of how he flew closer to the sun and melted his wings, not a nice story to tell if your in a machine with what was technically wings.

The moment you saw the sun, it was like you had gone blind. The storm had been left behind and with it, the lightings. The sun was straight ahead and it was shining as you had never seen it.

Once your vision went to normal you felt like the air you’ve been holding left your body in a long sigh. Hearing people laugh and cheer made you even relax.

You knew some special details of the expedition to the island, so even if you were happy that the storm had passed, they were alarms sounding in your head to keep yourself focus. If doctor Randa was right, it would be a lot more difficult to leave the island that it was to enter it.

It was impossible to deny the beauty of the island, the green grass looked almost unreal and the blue of the water did show that it hadn’t had any human intervention. Mountains as tall as a building, and looking down you could see what looked like small dots of different colours. There was a small chance of maybe even finding a new species of flower or animal and that accelerated you.

Goodness grace.

You were snap back into reality by the dropping of the seismic ‘charges’, the sight was awful, every boom made an even horrendous sound than the previous one. Sadly as your orders were to observe and report back to Monarch, it couldn’t be stopped. Being the second in command after Randa, your orders deviated from him quite a lot.

Unlike him, you were supposed to fly over the island with the helicopters, see the team is set up and once they were ready you were to leave and come back three days later with the rescue party.

“ INCOMING “ shouted someone over the coms, making you flinch. As you were far in the back surveying, all you could see was one of the helicopter crash to the ground and a big shadow of a mountain move. Move?

“ Fox eight is down, fox four is down, respond fox three”

You didn’t comprehend what they were saying, all talking at the same time so fast that it didn’t make sense. Now from close as you were, you had identified the form moving in front of you; it was a giant ape.

“ Fox leader to fox group, form a perimeter”

Unbelievable, you were right, it was an ape. For the seconds on which you were right in front of it, it was as if time had stopped. Al helicopters in formation begun shooting at the giant creature. Then it seemed to have snapped, the creature jumped and brought down multiple helicopters. The ones still on the air continue shooting and you found yourself unable to help.

Once on the ground Conrad couldn’t do much but observe as the gigantic ape moves from where he had slaughtered a great proportion of the group. In all the chaos he swore he saw you on a helicopter, almost as if his regrets were coming for him. Now that he was on the ground, he rationalizes the idea that what he saw, was all but what he wanted to see.

He observed as Slivko tried to reach the rest of his group before he told the news.

“ They are all down, every one of them; Were on the south side of the island” Signaling to his right “ There’s a river a couple of feet from here”

Looking at all there faces, James was sure that they hadn’t yet processed what had happened, as many of them had barely said a word.

After reassuring that they were all to get to the north part of the island so they could take the rescue team and get back to the boat, he looked back at the Weaver to make sure she was all right.

Slivko on the other side as James expected, was the first one to catch on what had happened. After all, he was a soldier. However, as good as that was, if he continues as he had, he could scare people.

“ All that money that they paid you, I hope your worth it,” Said Weaver before heading towards where he had signalled.

James sighed, he didn’t doubt that he was worth it, but his mind keep going back to your face. He couldn’t lie even if he tried, knowing that a part of him wanted to see you before he died, make him want to scream. All odds were that you were nowhere near this island, which made him at the same time grateful. The last time you had seen each other, everything had been formal and friendly. He had pushed his feeling so far down that he had not catch how your eyes yearned for any indication that he wanted more just as you did.

“ the next time you are here, come to visit” You smile at him, the same polite smile that he had learned to love; “The doors are always open”

After lying and saying that he would, he hugs you and left. Seeing you had become something he yearned to do, but after years it hadn’t caused more than pain for him every time he went back to England.

“ STUFF LIKE THAT DOESN’T JUST HAPPENED” Conrad came back from his thoughts and turned towards Slivko who was screaming.

“ No, they don’t”

Getting of the forest you found yourself before what looked like a lake. Putting the bag down you stared at the wound on your left shoulder. While falling, a metal tube had perforated your shoulder and as you got down from the helicopter you fell on it, making it even worse.

You doubted for a couple of minutes if you should even touch it, but the threat of it getting infected was bigger than you bleeding out to death after all the tube had a small diameter and also seemed to have gone through the flesh clean.

Blood could be stopped with pressure but bacteria, bacteria could only be stopped with antibiotics that could not be found in the middle of the bloody jungle. With a long sight, the choice had already been made.

Grabbing the long end of the metal tube you started to pull it out of your flesh. Your body was still emitting adrenaline from what had just happened so you had to made it quick so that it could overshadow the pain.

“ One, Two” three, your eyes filled with tears and no matter how much adrenaline was in your body, you felt the metal move through the flesh, a sob scape you. Seeing the piece on the floor, it looked small. Kneeling down close to the lake you took water from the surface and just like a band-aid you applied the water on the wound, on a quick swift motion.

You hissed in response to the sharp pain, trying to normalize your breathing seem useless so you kept on panting. The arm felt numb but the shoulder, oh the shoulder make you clench your teeth. Opening the bag you searched for the first aid kit that was inside, It was pretty basic but it still had a bandage. You got out of your jacket as slow and careful as possible and put it on the ground next to you and near your helmet.

Evening out your breading you pressed a part of the bandage to the wound and then started bandaging all the shoulder. You felt dizzy, not for the loss of blood but for the fall you had just taken. You knew you hadn’t lost enough blood to feel dizzy.

You sat back, at the edge of the lake and assumed an almost fetal-like position, putting your arms on your knees and your head between them. Apart from your heavy breathing, the other sounds were of occasional birds. Too tired to care but taking precaution you took your gun and hold it on your right hand.

While walking through the jungle Slivko kept trying to reach the rest of his group, something that proves to be useless.

“ Save it for when we get closer to the group” advice Conrad. It had been around an hour when they finally left the jungle for a more open like area.

Conrad was surveying the perimeter when a small figure a couple of meters ahead catch his attention.

“ Slivko, I think that's a man of your group,” Said he signalling to the figure sitting at the edge of the river.

“ That's not a man,” said Slivko running towards the figure, the rest of the group running behind him.

“ That's a woman” informed Slivko up ahead.

“San that's Y/n” scream Brooks in short breaths.

Conrad head analyzed the figure on the ground while still running, it couldn’t be you. You were miles away, on England, Your job could n’t have brought you to hell on earth.

You raised your head fast, making the dizziness come back. However, it was worth it to see at least one person you knew running towards you. Raising from where you were while ignoring the pain, a wildly smile spread on your face at the sight of Slivko and some people behind him, who you couldn’t see clear just yet for how fast you’ve raised your head, the sun blinding you momentarily.

“ I can't believe you’re alive,” Said him before you, you opened your arm to hug him which he did, with a little to much force making you yelp and end the Hug sharply. “ That docent look too good” he pointed out.

“ It feels even worse,” you said smiling.

Now that the other forms were near and your head had stopped spinning around their faces appeared clear. Brook was the next person you hugged while avoiding putting your left shoulder to close to him. Then was San who thankfully was way more delicate with you.

“ Thank god you’re Ok… - Alive” said San seeing your left shoulder.

Looking past the three of them you saw an all too familiar face, but he seemed almost lost on his own thought’s so you decide to greet the woman at his side, who you had met on the ship.

“ its good to see you, Mason” you greeted with a smile.

“ it’s good to see you too” she answered while smiling.

“ Viktor”

“ Y/n,” Said the man in the blue jacket.

It hadn’t been a dream or illusion or ghost from his past Christmases. You were right before him, breathing. He analyzed you as you greeted Slivko, brooks, San and then Weaver. When you turned to him, he was lost on what to do.

Almost as if fate was dumping a giant bucket of cold water on him, something caught his attention past your face. Almost automatically he stepped in front of you, blocking you from anything that came from the direction of the river.

Slivko had his weapon raised and as understanding settles on Conrad's head, he made Slivko put down the weapon. It was anything dangerous, just an enormous animal, which seemed to be a common occurrence in this island. Once the animal was out of there he turned around searching for you, but you were no longer behind him. Looking around he found your small frame gathering your things from the ground.

Walking towards you he took your bag and put it on his back.

He saw how you searched his face, almost analyzing if he remembered you, if he recognized you.

“ Y/n,” he said once he realizes he hadn’t greeted you. “ Its good to see you once again, though not in this conditions”

“ James,” You said, your voice always welcoming, accompanied by a smile “ it good to see you too”

You moved so he could hug you, which he did as if you were a porcelain doll about to break. The hug was, for Conrad's dislike, broken too quickly as you move to answer a question from Brooks, that Conrad had not heard. You were one of the few people to call him by his name and not Conrad, he even presented himself as Conrad.

Masterlist

#James Conrad #james conrad x reader #tom hiddleston #fluff #kong skull island #captain James conrad #reader #imagine #kong #james conrad imagine

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