#(I chose to leave off the freckles as a sign it's not her but they could also appear as blood spatters ^^;; < why Dess like this???) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

behindheremeraldeyes · 3 years ago

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sasusaku month 2021 day 21 - flower

title: flower girl.

summary: Flower Shop AU - Sasuke works at his mother’s flower shop, and every Wednesday, this girl comes by to buy some flowers. Though he doesn’t know her name, he can’t help but be curious about her.

When he thinks about it, Wednesdays must be the busiest day of the week whenever he’s helping his mother at the shop. They start with his alarm forcing him out of bed at 4am so he and his brother can be at the shop before the clock strikes 5am. They take a 10-minute walk— 5 when they’re not that sleepy— make some coffee and wait a little for the truck that arrives with the fresh flowers.

Carefully, then, the brothers unload all the products and take them to his mother’s atelier behind the shop so, by the time she arrives, she can start working her magic into the flowers she loves so much. Mikoto puts the right flowers for the right pots, works on some orders and prepares some bouquets to put on display.

Everything has to be ready and perfect for when they finally open the shop for the clients at 7am.

Everything has to be ready before she arrives.

He’s sitting behind the counter today, playing a game on his phone, when his eyes slowly drift to the clock on the wall. It’s been at least 30 minutes since Itachi turned the sign to ‘open’, and any minute now he knows she will walkthrough that door so she can buy her weekly supply of flowers. For the last couple of months, she’s always their first customer every Wednesday, and he has no reason to believe today will be any different.

Seven more minutes pass, and finally, the bell rings, announcing that someone has entered the shop. His dark eyes immediately follow the sound, and he can’t ignore the slight sense of satisfaction that spreads across his chest when his dark eyes land on pink.

Right on time, he thinks.

From the corner of his eyes, he watches as she walks into the shop, her emerald eyes looking straight at the new hydrangeas. She’s wearing a green summer dress that falls just below her knees, and whose skirt dances freely around her legs. The strap of her small, white purse hangs on her right, sun-kissed shoulder and he notices the way her small fingers are delicately holding it. Her hair— always short and pink— is loosened, the tips just below her chin-line and a stubborn lock brushing her cheek.

Normally, he doesn’t pay that much attention to the people that come by the shop, but for a reason he can’t quite pinpoint, it’s different with her. Sure, she’s a beautiful client, and that alone is enough to catch his eye, but he knows himself well enough to know he’s better than that.

Something about her has caught his attention, to the point where he’s found himself waiting for her to arrive every week now. Perhaps he’s just grown curious over time. Seeing such a young girl almost religiously coming to the store to buy flowers makes him wonder about the actual reasons why she actually does that. Are those flowers for herself? Are they maybe for her mother or even her girlfriend? Not that it’s any of his business, but shouldn’t girls like her be receiving the flowers? Could it be that her boyfriend is that useless?

A sigh escapes his lips. He really doesn’t know why he even cares. He doesn’t know her name, to begin with. Even after helping her more than once, never before has Sasuke bothered to ask for it. It’s going to sound weird, or at least that’s what he tells his brother whenever they end up talking about her— and that happens more times than the young Uchiha dares to admit.

One day, perhaps, he might find out her name. For now, though, he will just continue calling her Flower Girl. It’s not the most creative or specific nickname, but it works just fine whenever he needs to talk about her or even judge the flowers she choses.

He likes to think it’s a good nickname. Besides, it’s not like anyone apart from him and his brother will ever know about this.

Sasuke finds himself resting his face on his right hand as his eyes unconsciously drift back to her. Itachi is showing her the lilies now, and apparently, he said something funny because she’s laughing at his words. For a second, then, she looks at where he’s standing and their eyes meet briefly before she looks back at his brother.

She seems to be in a good mood. There’s a contagious smile on her face, and he can’t help but let his lips twitch upward at that scene.

Eventually, Flower Girl chooses a bucket of blue hydrangeas and starts making her way towards the cashier. He straightens his posture, then, clearing his throat so he can properly greet her. In less than 10 seconds, she’s in front of him and she places the flowers on the counter. She mutters a soft ’hey’, to which he nods politely before proceeding to do his job.

“Would you like anything else?” He asks, cordially.

“No, thanks. Just the hydrangeas today.”

As he registers her products, he steals a glance and can’t help but notice the way her lips twitch as she waits for him. She’s playing with her hair, tugging it behind her ear, and softly, he sees the way her tongue comes out to wet her own lips. Flower Girl takes a deep breath, and it’s as if something ignites inside her eyes.

“Excuse me, but I have to ask…” Her voice comes out, a little too low at first, but eventually, it settles into a more consistent tone. His curiosity peaks, and immediately, he stops what he’s doing and turns to face her. “Are you Uchiha Sasuke?”

He’s confused for a moment, a blank expression spread across his face. His dark eyes are slightly widened as he looks at her face, failing when he tries to read her real intentions. Her eyes are even brighter from such a short distance, and he finds himself fighting the urge to just lose himself in those green pools of hers and in the way his name rolled out of her tongue. “Yes. Can I help you?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry. I don’t need your help or anything like that.” She starts, waving her hand in front of her face as to brush off any formalities. There’s a soft smile on her face, and he doesn’t miss the way her cheeks are weakly tinged in pink. “I was just making sure it was really you.”

“Well…” He starts, adjusting the name tag on his shirt. “That’s me.”

“Good. I guess that makes me your Flower Girl, then.”

Her words catch him completely by surprise, and it’s as if the entire world turns silent around him. His eyes widen, his lips part, and the first sound he registers after what feels like an eternity is his own heartbeat inside his chest. It’s slow, at first, to the point where he thinks it might suddenly stop, but eventually, it grows faster in what he concludes to be pure despair.

“W-what?” He asks, though he knows better than to believe he heard it wrong.

“Your Flower Girl.” She repeats, and even if he thought it wasn’t possible, he starts to feel worse.

His chest grows inconveniently warmer, the heat spreading all the way up to the tips of his ears. His throat is dry, but that doesn’t bother him because Sasuke can’t find it in himself to form any words right now. He’s dumbfounded, experiencing a mix of shock and embarrassment for the first time in his short life, and it’s safe to say he hates the way it feels. He wishes the ground could just swallow him whole right now, but he knows better than to believe life is fair. Especially his life.

Fuck.

He can’t believe this is happening right now. How on earth does she even know about the Flower Girl thing? It was meant to be a secret he would take to the grave and not something meant to be discovered after just a couple of months by some random girl. The only ones beside him who know about that are his mother and—

Itachi. Oh, that bastard.

He steals a glance at his older brother, who’s simply watching him with a guilty smile on his face. He’s not trying to hide or deny anything, and that only serves to infuriate him even more. Itachi waves teasingly at him before disappearing behind the stacks, leaving him all alone with the pinkette. He was just betrayed by his own blood and even if all he wants right now is to become an only child, there are more pressing matters standing right in front of him with the prettiest green eyes he has ever seen.

Sasuke needs to find a way out of this whole mess, he knows, but nothing comes to mind. No last-minute trick or plausible excuse. No perfectly calculated accident to ruin the conversation or blow him away. Nothing that would make her believe this is all just a big misunderstanding instead of the purest truth. The Uchiha can’t escape this situation, at least not without making things worse. He needs to think. He needs to use his mind to get himself out of this thing, and he needs to do it fast or else he will lose their best customer, his pride as a man and the reason for his Wednesdays to be at least bearable.

His dark eyes are now looking at her because that’s the only thing he can bring himself to do. Instinctively, he’s trying to find something— anything, really— that will help him bring his mind back to his body so he can, at least, find the right words to apologize. He then begins to note the unique color of her hair, her bright, emerald eyes; the barely visible sun freckles on her cheeks, and he really starts to feel his heart calming down, but that’s just until he sees it.

A sly smirk is taking over her lips. It’s a tricky one, and judging by how she’s not even trying to hide it, Sasuke immediately realizes she knows exactly what she’s just done. She’s up to something— Flower Girl is clearly messing with him. She’s intentionally teasing him with all those words, and right now it’s clear that he has just fallen for her act.

Oh, that girl. Who would’ve thought such a beautiful girl like her would posses such a cunning mind?

Before the youngest Uchiha can even bring himself to say anything, a giggle escapes her lips, and soon, it grows into a full laughter. He watches as her burst of happiness reaches her eyes and how genuine that whole thing is as it fills the entire store with that warm feeling. If his social misery can bring out something like that, well, perhaps he should start telling her more about his best friend’s love life.

After a couple of seconds, then, her laughter fades with a sigh and she uses her right index to wipe a tear that had threatened to roll down her face. There’s a smile gracing her lips, and he swears he could feel his heart skipping a beat just now. “I’m so sorry. Oh, my.” She chuckles. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

“Tch.” He scoffs.

“I was just messing with you. Or—well— maybe I should say that I’m just helping with your older brother’s prank. He’s the one who wanted to leave you in an uncomfortable position. And judging by your reaction, I guess it worked.”

An annoyed pout now takes over his lips. “How very mature of you two.”

“I know… I know, my bad.” She agrees. “Sorry about that.”

His eyes watch as she scratches the back of her head and he realizes she’s actually feeling guilty about the whole thing and that doesn’t help him soothe his nerves at all. She should not be the one apologizing. Not when he was the one who called her Flower Girl in the first place. He’s never meant it as a bad thing— quite the opposite, in fact— nevertheless, he should’ve been more considerate. If anyone should be apologizing, it was him. And that was exactly what he was going to say.

“Look.” He started, taking a deep breath. “You don’t have to apologize. I do. Sorry about this whole thing. I shouldn’t have given you a nickname to begin with. I promise I didn’t mean to be rude or anything like that.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that. It’s fine, really. I didn’t think it was rude or anything like that. It was pretty cute, actually.” She smiles at him, and it’s as if he can finally feel his heart beating again. “Besides, it’s not like I was meant to even know about that in the first place, right?”

“Definitely not.” He answers, a little too quickly for his own liking.

“You should thank your brother for that.”

“Oh, later I will, for sure.”

Another chuckle escapes her lips, and he’s glad to know she didn’t mind the nickname— cute, she even said. Now that most of the embarrassment has faded, Sasuke can think clearly again and even if he’s still plotting a revenge against his older sibling, it’s undeniable that having his secret revealed got him a chance to openly talk to her for the first time. They’re making small conversation and it’s nothing really important, but it’s already something.

It’s a start, at least.

The smile on her face suddenly changes into a small pout, and he can easily tell she’s curious. Though they don’t really know each other, he likes the way her expressions are so clear and honest. She bites her lower lip, then, her eyes fidgeting for a moment. She clears her throat and her attention returns to him. Flower girl is staring at him, and if not for her pink hair and inoffensive looks, he would’ve been intimidated by that.

“What is it?” He asks, not really taking in that stare anymore. “Is there something wrong?”

“No, not really… It’s just…” She starts, her eyes narrowing a bit. “Why Flower Girl?”

“What?”

“Why did you choose this nickname? Flower Girl, I mean… I’m pretty sure I’m not the only girl that comes by to get some flowers.”

His eyes widen slightly for a moment until his expression returns to normal. Of course she would be curious about that, he thought. Thinking about it now, that was probably the most generic nickname he could’ve come up with for her. Truth is, he has started calling her like that simply because he never really knew her name, but it’s not like he knows the name of every female customer that comes into the store. The thing that made Flower Girl the Flower Girl was probably the fact that she was the only female customer that actually caught his attention in all the time he’s been working at the shop.

Maybe it was the unusual color of her hair or even the fact that she comes by every week morning, but he can’t deny that he was captivated by her. She’s a very beautiful and attractive woman, sure, but there’s more to it, he knows. Still, it’s not like he can tell her that without sounding like a weirdo. And if anything, he has already sounded like one a lot today.

“Your name… I didn’t know it— still don’t know it.” He starts, and suddenly, he realizes that saying it is harder than he had imagined. His eyes look down for a moment, and instinctively, he uses his index finger to scratch his cheek. “And since you’re basically the only girl who comes by every week, then, you know… Flower Girl.”

“Oh… I see.” She says bluntly, and a pensive expression takes over her demeanor. Though he’s sure she is going to add more to that, silence settles between them. It’s not really uncomfortable, he notices, but it still leaves him wanting more. More of her stories, more of her laugh—more of her.

He needs to keep their conversation going. He has to find a new subject so it can be easier for him to properly talk to her when she returns next week. It’s his only chance and he can’t let it go to waste. He can’t let her—

“Sakura.” She starts, her eyes switching from her feet to his dark orbs. “My name is Sakura.”

Her soft voice catches him off guard, and he’s taken aback by that. When he looks at her again, he can see a small blush tinging her cheeks, and for the first time, he can see an inch of embarrassment in her. Earlier, she had no problem with the nickname, but when it comes to her real name, well…

And just when he thought she couldn’t get any cutter.

“Hn, how very ironic for you to have been named after a flower.”

“Yeah.” She chuckles. “I guess I was destined to become Flower Girl.”

The corner of his lips slightly curl upwards as he finds himself surpassing a smirk that wants to escape. “It’s nice to officially meet you, Sakura.”

“You, too, Sasuke.” She smiles at him, her head tilting to the right as she does so. Her hair responds to the gravity of her movement and he watches as some of her pink locks sway. “I’m glad I could finally talk to you.”

“Uh? Were you trying to talk to me before?”

“Well, to be honest, yeah…” She shrugs, somewhat shyly.

“Are you, perhaps, stalking me?” He smirks, watching as she gets slightly embarrassed.

“Shannarou, that’s not that!” Her face grows a shade of red and he can’t help but notice the peculiar expression she used. “It’s just that you’re the first person I’ve met in this city that seems to be the same age as me, and I guess I was just looking for a reference or something. Living alone in a strange city isn’t really that simple.”

A familiar warmth takes over his chest at her words, and unconsciously, Sasuke starts to sympathize with her current condition. She’s a young girl, and she’s all alone in a big city like Konoha. Even if he has never really left the safety of his parents’ house, it isn’t hard for him to imagine how difficult it must be to go through all that by herself. Whatever her reasons for choosing this might be, it’s still something that will take the pinkette a lot of time to get used to.

She must be lonely, he thinks, but decides not to mention anything about that for now. He simply nods at her, showing Sakura that he comprehends her feelings, and she simply smiles in return. Her eyes delicately fall to the hydrangeas she chose, and he doesn’t miss the tenderness that is decorating her expression right now.

“They help me a lot, you know? The flowers, I mean.”

“Do they?”

“Aah.” She nods, excitedly. “They make my small apartment seem happier, somehow. It’s nice coming home to them. So—uhm— thank you, I guess.”

The smile plastered on her face easily makes its way to her bright eyes, and his heart skips a beat. This girl— this gentle and talkative girl— is really thanking him for selling her flowers every week. Though they’ve just discovered each other's names, she’s telling him small parts of her life that seem so pure and fragile; and for a moment, he feels like their connection is heading beyond flowers and nicknames.

He’s growing fond of her, he can tell. Sasuke knows he’s no longer just curious to know about her reasons to buy the flowers or why she comes by every week. There’s a lot more to it, for now he finds himself wanting to know about certain aspects of her private life that have nothing to do with plants or fertilizer. He wants her to tell him more about herself— as long as that’s what she wants, of course.

He wants to know Sakura. And something tells him that, eventually, he will.

Without thinking much, the young Uchiha smiles back in return, slowly pushing the bucket of flowers back towards her. “Shouldn’t we be thanking you for shopping here?”

“You’re probably right.” She chuckles, giving him her credit card so she can pay for the hydrangeas. “I guess I just can’t help it. I do love your flowers. Sometimes I get so excited about them that I leave home before breakfast.”

“What?” He asks, slightly shocked.

“I can’t help it. It’s stronger than me.”

“Tch.” He sighs. How annoying, he thinks, and the expression spread across his face clearly gives away. She giggles, then, and a sudden idea comes to his mind. “Did you leave home without eating today?”

“Oh, no. Not today. I had a nice breakfast this morning.” She states, proudly. “Why do you ask?”

“Well…” He starts, scratching the back of his neck as a reflex. “Whenever you leave without breakfast, there’s always coffee here. I don’t know if you like it or not, but—”

“I love coffee.” Sakura cuts through his speech, a little too excited. “Next time, then, we’ll have some coffee together.”

A soft smile takes a couple of seconds to make its way to her lips, and he finds himself growing a little too excited about said next time. Sasuke doesn’t know when it’s going to be, but he can already imagine certain things that make him feel at ease.

A morning spent with Flower Girl… It will be a good day.

“Next time, then.” He confirms.

“I’ll be waiting.”

It will be a pleasant Wednesday, indeed.

fin.

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a/n: this took me way too long to finish and I don’t really know why. I had this idea at least a month ago, but I JUST COULDN’T FINISH! Well, now it’s finished lol. Anyway, this is a cute one mostly because I needed something cute. Hope you guys enjoy this, and please, leave me your opinion!

#sasusaku #sasusaku month 2021 #sasusaku month #sasusaku fanfiction #ss fanfic #myssfics

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deepdonutkid · 4 years ago

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The forsaken road

Requested: yes by anon

Summary: You have been gone for a year now, even though Finn and you have been friend since ever. Now he is trying to convince you to come back to Birmingham.

Author’s note:

Finn is a little sassy, but this is supposed to be a close friend and usually nobody is shy around close friends. Maybe he got the usual Shelby sass.

This was super funny to write and I hope I did the request right. This thing whole x reader thing is still new to me.

The reader is female, I couldn’t work around that. I’m sorry. There are only two times or so, when the reader is referred to as “she.”

Requests are still open~ If you want to request something or want to be added to my tag list, just write me!

John is dead in this one q.q

And the reader is stubborn as fuck

Word count: 4260

Warnings: major character death, swearing

It was the first time Finn was nervous behind the steering wheel. Even when he started driving, he felt completely comfortable with it. Cars just were his thing and he wasn’t the only one to notice. Tommy himself chose Finn to be his driver more than once and Finn was a good driver. He didn’t panic nor did he take unnecessary risks.

But this time it was different. He was alone in the car, nobody by his side and his destination was on the countryside. Far away from his usual ways. His hands clung around the leather wheel. The grip so tight, his knuckles shined white. Nevertheless, this was important and he had worries, if he would find the small cottage in the middle of nowhere. Polly drew the way on his map, so he wouldn’t get lost, but he still feared, what would happen, if it was getting dark and he was still driving.

With all his might he tried to push his insecurities away. These wouldn’t help him find his way through the unknown. And it was not like he had another choice. You didn’t seem to return to Birmingham by yourself, so he needed to get you back. Actually, he didn’t understand why you left in the first place. You had a job and friends, who cared about you and yet you left in the middle of the night, without even saying goodbye. You should have come at least to him, your best friend.

When Isiah told him, he refused to believe it. Maybe it was just a bad joke. You wouldn’t run off without a word… and yet you did. The realization knocked him down. Finn couldn’t imagine his life without you and now he had to. Even worse, he didn’t know why. He thought, he meant as much to you as you did to him. Apparently this wasn’t the case. You left him heartbroken and he would never say that out loud, but he cried.

And yet, he wasn’t over you. Somehow he just couldn’t forget you. The way you smiled, when he cracked a joke or when a new pint of beer arrived at the table. He missed the smell of your hair, when you leaned against his shoulder late at night. Or that one time you held hands under the table at the Garrison. You swore Bonnie saw the innocent act, but Finn doubted it. You had some much fun together and now everything was gone with the wind.

That was the reason, why he took the forsaken road. If he couldn’t bring you back, he needed at least an explanation. Otherwise he would never have a peaceful sleep again. He had prepared everything he would say. There were a couple of things on his mind and he needed to say them. Hopefully you would listen. Finn thought about the whole scenario over and over again. And even when you would be as stubborn as ever, he had one last option.

His heart jumped, when he noticed the small cottage down the road. This had to be it. The house of your aunt and her husband. Now it was just a few meters ahead of him and he was getting even more nervous. The hands were all sweaty and his knees started to shake as he pulled into the driveway.

The motor stopped and everything was dead silent for a while. Finn was too scared to move and froze right on the driver’s seat. Inside of him there was a voice yelling at him to get out of the fucking car and ask you, why you had to break his heart. But he couldn’t, not until he heard steps on the gravel path that went around the house. Wary like a watch-dog he turned his head to see who was coming.

Until now he was worried, that he might have the wrong address… or you wouldn’t be there anymore… or something worse. Now he had his proof. You stood just not far away from him and yet it felt like you were miles away. Finn stumbled out of the car and ran to you, before you could hide in the house.

“Hey”, you managed to say, while you couldn’t believe your own eyes. After all this time you spend dreaming about him, he was here. Right in front of you. Suddenly you had a lump in your throat and your heart was racing. This reunion seemed so surreal and you doubted you would like how this would turn out. You knew that he wasn’t pleased with the way things ended. It was visible in his face. His cheeks were so red, his freckles weren’t even visible.

And even though he seemed so angry, all you wanted right now was to pull him in for a long hug. Of course, you missed him. He was your best friend and you had spent so many great nights together with the others at the Garrison. But still you couldn’t move and prepared for the worst.

“Hey!” he yelled: “Fucking finally.”

Nobody moved, but you felt the tension. You knew you should say something, anything, but there were no words to explain your inner tumult.

Finn signed and added: “You should have said this months ago.”

Slowly you nodded. Unable to speak, it was the least you could do. And he was right though. You should have had that conversation sooner, but you feared it so much, that you just packed your things and went.

Then you heard something, you certainly didn’t expect. “I missed you.”

You hadn’t comprehended this sentence and suddenly you felt his arms around you.

He whispered in your ear: “Every fucking day, Y/N.”

It was the long hug you needed and it gave you the idea, that maybe and just maybe things weren’t as bad as you thought. With croaked voice you mumbled: “I missed you too.”

But you were wrong. Things were bad and four soft spoken words couldn’t obliterate one year in misery. He pulled away and the look on his face was quite surprised as he asked: “Then why you left?”

Your mouth was dry as you tried to prepare some kind of an answer, certainly not a good one. It felt like your lips were glued together and even when you tried to open it, it wouldn’t work.

His hands caressed your cheeks. “What was the reason? Why did you leave me?”

“I was…”, you begun to say, but paused to take a deep breath: “I was scared.”

“Of me?” he asked with concern in his eyes.

You shook your head. “No… of course not.”

Right now you felt more feelings in the glimpse of this moment than ever in your life. It was like a rollercoaster. Everything went up and down. Yes, you were happy, he got all the way here, just to see you again, but you still feared this conversation. Running away was stupid, you knew, there was just no other option to get out of this mess.

Your body shivered as you felt his warm breath on your chest. “What were you scared of?”

How could you answer it? There was no easy way to say it.

“Of Tommy?” You shook your head, while tears filled your eyes. “Arthur?”

“No”, you whispered: “Don’t be silly. Nobody from your family was the problem.”

His frustration reached a peak. He got even louder as he shouted: “Then tell me who!”

You winced, because he frightened you. Even though he was the sweetest and most innocent of the four Shelby brothers, Finn still got the temper. And this time you really deserved it.

“Nobody”, you cried: “I was just scared.”

Finn took another step back. His hands left your cheeks gently, but were clenched into fists just seconds after. “Of what?” he repeated once again.

This time you tried to explain: “I don’t know. I thought something bad would happen. I could feel it coming.” There wasn’t a clear sign, when you knew you couldn’t be there anymore. This feeling grew inside of you for a long time. While being friends with the Shelbys you have witnessed violence, drug abuse, gang fights and other things, you weren’t ready for.

Things that changed you until you couldn’t sleep anymore and you couldn’t breathe anymore. That was the reason why you left. But of course, Finn didn’t seem to understand it. The tiny wheels in his head kept turning, but he still looked clueless.

“Why?” he whispered with a face like he seemed to choke on his own words.

You had to reach out for him, pulled him into a hug and patted his back. “I was scared of losing you”, you said. It didn’t even sound like your voice, not stubborn and strong as always but very weak and broken.

He wrapped his arms around you and squeezed you until you couldn’t breathe. “But why then… I had to lose you?”

Just when you were about to answer, he added: “I mean… this year without you was horrible. All the sudden you were gone and you took all the colors with you. Everything seemed so bleak. Nobody could cheer me up. I couldn’t… do anything without you. I was useless after you left… and you didn’t even tell me yourself. Isaiah noticed, you weren’t at home and then I asked Polly and she confirmed it. You know, I thought it was all my fault… because what happened the night before.”

That night. Yes, you did remember that. Actually you planned to tell him on that fateful night, that you were leaving, but after he kissed you and you kissed him, you couldn’t bring yourself to confess. You bit your lip.

“It wasn’t your fault”, you mumbled. Your fingers were running through his hair so careful, as if he would break, if the pressure was slightly higher. “It was mine. The night was great, but I couldn’t be in Birmingham at that time.”

He lifted his head to look you in the eyes. There were so many questions in his mind. You could see it.

“After John’s death I knew, I couldn’t stand the thought of losing you the same way. Shot multiple times. My feelings for you were to strong. I had loved you and your end would have been mine as well. Every time, we met at the Garrison, I feared some day you wouldn’t show up, because you were lying dead somewhere. I’m not the type of person who would seek revenge but more the type of person who would crumble to pieces”, you professed.

But this wasn’t even the end of the story. Finn was keen to say something. You shushed him. “I wasn’t done yet.”

“With the time I had realized this wasn’t the life I wanted. I wasn’t ready for all this violence and I still think it would ruin me. When I still did snow, it was okay. I could tolerate the fact that everything we had was bought by blood. But when I stopped doing drugs, I felt sick every time I saw what your brothers did to defend their power.”

Slowly you let him go. Not as sudden as the last time. He forced you to explain it and you did as he wished, but you knew, this wouldn’t make better.

You just weren’t the right person for him, even though you loved him. Others might have stayed, but it was too much for you.

Now the both of you were crying. When he realized, that things hadn’t changed, he felt worse than before. “You had loved me?” he asked like he couldn’t believe his own voice.

“Actually… I still do”, you confessed: “Not a single day has passed, I didn’t think about you.”

Finn stared at you. “Why didn’t say something sooner?” The red vanished from his face and it left him even paler than before.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought you wouldn’t feel the same way.”

“But I do!” he protested: “I always have.”

It was what you wanted to hear, even though now it was too late. It didn’t matter anymore. You decided to stay here. Maybe the life in the small cottage was boring, but at least it was peaceful. From morning till dawn you spend your time in the garden or in the kitchen and nothing bad ever happened, unlike all that drama in Small Heath.

You glared at the cloudless sky. It was a warm, yet windy day, just like it was one year ago, when the husband of your aunt picked you up at a station nearby. Back then you thought you would never see him again. Now he was standing here and declared his love for you. Should this feel like a happy end?

“Maybe… it’s too late”, you murmured. The time for sweeping love declarations was months ago. Finally you wiped the wetness from your cheeks.

At first Finn just gazed in abstraction, then he frowned. “What?”

“Maybe it’s time for you to leave. You don’t want to get lost in the dark.” Yes, you pushed him away, but it has been hard enough for you to forget him. His family still had shady business and they would always have enemies. Neither could Finn escape them nor you, if you were his girlfriend.

“Fuck no.”

Now you were baffled by his words. With an intense glare you stared at him. This was very unlikely for him, which made you think, he might have changed while you were gone.

“Stop making decision for me. Everybody else already does this. I won’t leave until we had a proper talk.”

Obviously, you were lost in translation. Didn’t you just have that talk, did you? “Tell me what you want to know”, you demanded, while you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Finn took another step towards you. “Just tell me why we should not be together. I mean, I love you and you love me and yet you keep pushing me away.” He held out his hand for you to grab it. You didn’t.

“Love isn’t everything Finn”, you argued: “I want safety.”

Just when you were about to explain this further the front door opened behind Finn. Your aunt stepped out of the house. “Dinner is ready, Y/N.”

“I’m coming”, you said as you were on your way to the dinner table. The young Shelby followed you with his eyes. This talk had come to an end, at least in your opinion, but Finn didn’t seem to agree with you.

He grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze, while he begged you silently to stay.

“I heard you two talking”, your aunt tossed in: “You were pretty loud, dear.”

Your cheeks were getting hot. This was embarrassing. Since you left Birmingham, you had found a new home here in the middle of nowhere. Your aunt was sweet and caring. She never had children and loved the idea of getting a little help around the house. Now she had heard why you had fled.

And again you had no good apology. But this time you didn’t even have to say something. Your aunt did. “Now come inside. It’s getting cold and your boyfriend probably wants to eat something after the long drive.”

You babbled some incoherent words, while Finn started smiling like an angel. “Thank you. I sure would love to have dinner with you, Mrs.” he nodded.

Since you were still completely overwhelmed with this whole situation, Finn guided you to the entrance. When you realized, he was about to enter the house, you started moving yourself and picked up the pace.

Inside you noticed the fourth plate on the dinner table. Your aunt had already planned to invite him in. What a back-stabbing bitch.

You glared at her with passionate hate. Yeah, okay, you loved Finn, but this still didn’t mean you could have a life with him, a known gangster. However your aunt disrupted your plans to forget about him. Now he thought he still could turn things around, which wasn’t possible.

“You can sit here, sweetie”, she said and pointed at a chair. Finn followed her order and took place.

This damn smile wouldn’t leave his darn beautiful face. With clenching fists you sat down right in front of him. “After this… you’re leaving”, you threatened him.

Pointless, but you tried. Of course, you didn’t know that Finn thought you were the cutest, when you tried to intimidate someone.

“We’ll see about that”, he grinned and then turned to your aunt: “This house is beautiful…. But it was very hard to find.”

Your aunt giggled and put a steaming pot in the middle of the table. Inside of it was a delicious stew and the smell filled the room. “Well, it’s very quiet here and the sea is nearby. Maybe Y/N can show you the beach. You probably know, how stubborn she can be.”

Finn burst out in laughter and agreed: “Yes, she can be quite a pain in the ass, but she is still my best friend. Everybody back home missed her so much. I had hoped to bring her back for a couple of days… She said no.”

“Wait…”, you interrupted him: “Who said that?”

“What?”

“That they missed me?”

Finn was surprised for the glimpse of a second, and then he laughed. “Everybody! Isiah said it a couple of times. Bonnie too! Arthur said he missed hearing you singing drunk in the Garrison. And Esme said the fair isn’t half as funny without you.”

Your mouth formed a silent “Oh” like you just realized that you had left everybody behind and not just Finn.

He made a wiggly movement with his hands. “You probably won’t believe me but… even Michael said something is different since you left.”

You gave him a skeptic stare and just shook your head. “No fucking way.” Not even in a thousand years Michael would say something like that and not about you from all people. He was a jerk who would always make snarky side comments about you and you would do the same about him. It wasn’t friendship- not even close, even though you had the same group of friends.

“Yes, of course he did. Everybody is sad that you left without saying goodbye”, he responded and hiked his shoulders.

Slowly, your head turned towards your empty plate. Maybe leaving like this was kinda selfish.

Your aunt was filling the bowls with stew, when her husband arrived though the backdoor. His face was stained with dirt, but his eyes widened as he noticed Finn. “Who is that?” he growled and sat down at the table.

“Y/N’s boyfriend. He came all the way from the city to see her again.” Apparently your aunt thought she was being funny.

Her husband didn’t seem to be happy with that answer either. He grunted and then began to eat his dinner in silence.

Finn’s cheeks were red once again, but this time it wasn’t anger. He was nervous. “Nice to meet you, Mr. I’m Finn Shelby.” You heard it in his voice.

Your uncle nodded and didn’t stop shoveling stew in his mouth for one second. He wasn’t a man of many words. More like the silent type of guy. You liked it. At least he wasn’t as noisy as your aunt.

The dinner was exhausting. Your aunt kept asking Finn all types of questions and he was hesitant to answer most of them. Once or twice you helped him out. He was still your friend and seeing him in discomfort made you feel the same.

And the discomfort didn’t end with the dinner. “Finn, dear, it’s already dark outside. Do you still want to go back today? We still have a guestroom. You can stay there, if you want to? You two still have so much to talk about.” The suggestion of your aunt may seem nice, but it was meant to torture you.

“Oh, that’s so nice”, he said: “Thank you. I just have to get some things of mine from the car.”

Finally he stood up. You followed him back to his car. Now you had at least the opportunity to talk him out of this stupid idea. He shouldn’t be here and both of you knew it. Tommy would be furious with him, if he left for so long.

“You can’t stay”, you decided.

With a wide grin on his face he replied: “Oh, sure I can. Your aunt said it… and since you’re not my girlfriend… you can’t make decision for me.” He poked your nose and smiled.

Then he turned around to his car and opened trunk. It was full of all kinds of stuff. Why did he need a dress? And it wasn’t even his color!

You took a deep breath before pointing out the obvious: “What the fuck is this?”

“Gifts”, Finn answered: “When I said, I would be visiting you everybody gave me something for you.”

Now you had to take a closer look of the ragbag of things inside of the trunk. The Shelby coughed slightly and explained: “The dress is from Ada and the jewelry box is from Isaiah… but don’t worry, his sister chose it. Tommy gave you a bottle of gin. He started making some, while you were gone. Actually… I took the bottle, but it doesn’t matter. Tommy bribes everybody to try his gin. It’s the family recipe. And Bonnie got you a scarf. Well… it’s all kind of stuff.”

“I can’t accept that.” It was too much and too expensive. You were never part of the family, just Finn’s little friend.

Finn clucked his tongue. “Yes, you can.” Then he started to put some gifts in your arms.

“Let’s get this stuff inside and then go to the beach your aunt mentioned.”

You were ready to argue and yet you had nothing left to say. “Why are you so stubborn all the sudden?” you asked.

He took the rest and closed the trunk again, before responding: “Because usually you’re the bone head of us, but this time I have something to say and I’m not leaving until you heard it”

“Trust me just once. This is important”, he added with stern eyes and stroked your cheek with his finger.

When he looked at you like that, something inside you melted and you got weak in your knees. There was something undeniably sexy about him. Your head felt so hot when you squeaked: “Fine.”

Then you walked together with him back to the house and put the things in your room. Finn was prying, but you didn’t stay long enough for him to snoop around.

After you were done, you pulled him out of your room again. “You were never interested in my stuff. Why now?”

“Well, I wanted to know which things you kept and which things you had thrown away”, he explained as the both of you walked out of the house.

You crossed your arms before your chest and argued: “My other stuff is in my old room in Birmingham… but it’s not like I had so much to take with me.”

Finn was just about to walk in the wrong direction, so you took his hand and pulled him back. “It’s this way to the beach.”

“Okay, take the lead, lady”, he laughed: “But you still wear the necklace I got you.”

Immediately, your hand searched the pendant. It was nothing expensive, however it was very important to you, because Finn gave it to you on your birthday. “Well, I said I would never take it off.”

“Good”, he nodded and glanced at the sky with all his stars. He was more than a head taller than you, so you couldn’t see how happy your words made him.

Then you walked in silence to the beach. It was even windier here and you forgot to take your jacket, because you just wanted to get over with this and then go back to your boring life.

Finn noticed your shivering and put his coat on your shoulders, which made you smile. It has been a while since you felt like that. Your tummy rumbled in excitement.

“I still have one last gift for you”, he whispered.

You looked up and down, but you didn’t find it. “Where?”

His handy were jittery, when he said: “Promise me you think about it at least for one second, before saying no.”

“Of course”, you answered and took his hand so he wouldn’t be distracted. Your fingers intertwined with his and you smiled again. “C’mon, Finny, what is it you want to talk about?”

Slowly he went down on one knee. By that time you knew what he was going to say, but you still couldn’t believe it. He pulled out a small box and presented you a very beautiful ring, before saying: “Marry me.”

Your head was empty. All you could do was staring at him.

“I’m serious, Y/N. If you agree to be my wife, you won’t have to worry about your safety anymore. Then you’re part of the family and everybody would protect you. And I need you in my life. This year- without you- was the worst in my life. After losing my brother and almost my cousin I lost you too. I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t sleep and I missed you more than you could imagine. Please come back with me… or at least think about it, before you’re being stubborn again.”

Tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl

#finn shelby x you #finn shelby #finny shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky fucking blinders #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fandom #harry kirton #finn shelby x reader #finn shelby x female reader #marriage proposal

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wonderful-writes · 4 years ago

Note

Oooh! For the Charlie Weasley prompt list, 5, 8, and 14, where the reader and charlie have lowkey had feelings for each other for a long time, but then he went to Romania, but finally the reader is about to go into their last year, and they're spending summer at the burrow when Charlie comes back and they talk about being together after the reader graduates

Next Year

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: You had always been close to the Weasley family, and the second-oldest, dragon-loving brother was no exception. He was a few years ahead of you, tall, funny, and ruggedly handsome — all that you could ever want in a boy. It was a shame he didn’t feel the same way. But could one summer together at the Burrow change all that?

Prompts:

5) There’s always next year.

8) I never forgot you.

14) Is that my jumper?

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Ginny Weasley calling to you from the entrance of the Burrow. At her side was a broom and a dustpan. Mrs. Weasley had probably asked her to sweep the front porch.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed, running over to her. You had apparated to the Burrow with nothing but a small suitcase, so it didn’t take long for you to reach her.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” the young red-headed girl gushed as she pulled you into a hug.

“Where is everybody?” you asked when she finally let go of you.

“Percy, Ron, and Harry are upstairs cleaning the bedrooms with Mum,” Ginny answered. “Hermione was helping me out here, but she went inside to grab paper towels for the windows.”

“And Fred and George?”

“They went out with Charlie. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Charlie’s here?” you asked in surprise. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming. In your letter.”

“Huh, I probably made a mistake,” she said. “I meant to write that Bill wasn’t coming home this summer, not Charlie.”

“Oh,” you said. Part of you was excited to see Charlie again, but another part of you dreaded it. You hadn’t seen him since the end of your fifth year at Hogwarts, an entire year ago. You had finished your fifth year when he finished his seventh, and he headed straight for Romania after that. He had left immediately after graduation, not even staying to spend one more summer with you.

It was not like he had any reason to spend another summer with you. You were only a family friend, after all. The Weasleys had loads of family friends, and you were no different. Charlie probably thought of you like he did Harry or Hermione. But you couldn’t help but wish that he thought of you as something more than that.

You were heartbroken when he left, but you didn’t let it show. You spent that summer with your family, who missed you dearly when you were away at school. You had a happy time, taking trips and enjoying the company of those you love, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Charlie was gone.

When fall came, you returned to Hogwarts to begin your sixth year. You had school to occupy you — and you were very busy with that, being your studious and ambitious self — but you never let go of the memory of Charlie Weasley. You often looked back at why you fell for him in the first place.

You had met in your first year and his third. As members of the same house, you saw each other frequently and became fast friends. Over the years, you became acquainted with the rest of the Weasley siblings and grew to consider them your second family. You spent parts of your school breaks at the Burrow, and your muggle parents became close friends with the Weasleys as well. It was hard not to fall for Charlie when you were constantly around him and his wonderful family.

Though he was two years older than you, he treated you like an equal, not like some bothersome younger sister. He was kind and respectful and had a love for animals. In your mind, he was perfect. But you never had the courage to tell him so. You were always too embarrassed about your crush and too scared that your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. He never showed any signs that he fancied you, so why would you humiliate yourself by admitting that you fancied him?

“I’ll take that for you, dear,” someone said, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked up to see that Arthur Weasley had come out of the house and was reaching for your suitcase.

“Thanks, Mr. Weasley!” you said, handing over the suitcase. “I assume I’ll be staying in Bill’s room since he’s not here?”

“Sure are,” he replied. “He’s been so busy at Gringotts. They just shipped him out to Egypt not even a week ago.” Mr. Weasley smiled broadly, clearly proud of his son.

“Wow, Egypt?” you marvel. “Bill must be some curse-breaker.”

“He sure is,” said Molly Weasley, joining the throng conversing on the front steps. “Hello, Y/N. How are you, dear?”

You stepped into Mrs. Weasley’s outstretched arms and told her that you had never been better. School was swell, your friends were keeping you sane, and there was nothing getting you down. She seemed happy at your reply and led the way back into the house.

Inside, you greeted Ron, Hermione, Harry and Percy. Unlike Ginny, whom you haven’t seen since Christmas holiday, you saw the four the them at school everyday. Percy was a year younger than you, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione were itty bitty soon-to-be second years. You were happy that Ginny would be starting at Hogwarts in the fall. Your last year would be her first, but at least you could go to school with her for one year.

For the rest of the day, you helped the family tidy up the house and prepare supper. When evening rolled around, Charlie, Fred, and George returned from wherever it was they went to. Fred and George said hello to you first, before heading upstairs to work on a new prank idea. Charlie was the last to approach you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking up at him. He hadn’t changed a bit. Same messy red hair, same freckles dotting his face. He was as handsome as ever. You quickly looked away, feeling the heat creep up your neck. The last thing you wanted was to out yourself on having a crush on Charles Weasley, especially in front of Charlie himself and his family.

“Hey, Y/N!” called Ron. “Wanna play a game of chess before dinner?”

“Sure,” you answer gratefully. You wanted any excuse to distance yourself from Charlie. Being around him only intensified your feelings for him.

After a heated round of chess, which Ron, the strategic genius, obviously won, Mrs. Weasley announced that dinner was ready. Everyone took their seats at the table, you squeezing yourself in between George and Ginny. To your dismay, Charlie chose the chair directly across from you.

He flashed you a smile. You smiled back weakly before quickly looking down at your plate. Act normal, you told yourself. When you still went to school with Charlie, you had gotten the same nervous, fluttery feeling whenever you were around him. After he left to pursue his dream job in Romania, he wasn’t nearby to make your stomach do somersaults anymore. It had been a full year since you felt this dizzying feeling, and now it was all rushing back to you.

“You okay, Y/N?” asked Hermione, who was sitting next to Charlie.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

You looked around and quickly realized that everyone had already piled food on top of their plates, but yours was still empty. How long had you been sitting there?

“Right,” you said as you picked up a serving spoon, about to dish mashed potatoes onto your plate. “I was thinking about someone, and I guess I zoned out for a bit.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at you. “Who were you thinking about?”

You froze. You replayed your words and realized that you had accidentally said you were thinking about someone instead of something.

“Did I say someone?” you asked with a laugh, attempting to pass off your error as a simple mistake. “I meant something.”

“Sure you did,” Ginny teased, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at her. You acted as if it was all a joke, but you were dying of embarrassment on the inside. You hoped you weren’t being too obvious.

“Pass me the green beans, Y/LN,” Charlie said.

You felt your face burning as you handed over the green beans. Even though you didn’t touch him, extending your hand that close to his sent electricity through you.

“Thank you,” Charlie said cheekily.

You spared him a glance, flashing him a smile. You were trying to act as casual as possible, but it was difficult when your stomach churned every time you looked at him. There was no denying to yourself that you were crushing hard.

After dinner was done, you helped Mrs. Weasley wash up. When everything was cleaned and put away, you headed over to the living room, where Fred, George, and Charlie were playing cards around the coffee table. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were talking upstairs, Percy was in his room reading, and the Weasley parents had decided to retire for the night.

“Can I play?” you asked, taking a seat next to Fred.

“Sure,” he answered, not looking up from his deck. “Next game.”

“So, where did you guys go earlier today?” you questioned.

“We just went to town,” George replied nonchalantly. “Fred and I needed to get some stuff for our next prank, and Charlie offered to take us.”

You hummed in response. It made you feel warm inside to know that Charlie was so attentive with his siblings. Family was very important to you, and you were glad it was important to him as well. Just another reason for you to fall even harder for him. Godric, why did he have to be so perfect?

The boys continued to play. The game finally ended when both Fred and Charlie ran out of cards, leaving George the winner. You began picking up the cards and shuffling them, preparing to deal them to everyone.

Before you could complete your task, however, George interrupted. “Actually, Fred and I are going upstairs to work on our new idea.”

Giving them a wave goodbye, you watched as the two younger boys got up from the coffee table and headed upstairs.

“You and me?” Charlie asked, a mischievous smile on his face

“Sure,” you replied.

You handed him his cards, and the two of you began to play. You were both concentrated on the game, and the only noise that could be heard was the sound of cards slapping on the table.

“So, how have you been?” Charlie asked, trying to make conversation.

“I’ve been good,” you responded. “You?”

“Never been better. Working at the dragon sanctuary has been a dream come true.”

You were genuinely happy to hear that he loved his job and his new life. Although, you wished you could be a bigger part of it. Charlie wasn’t much of a writer, and he hardly sent letters to his family, let alone his friends. You had written to him once when he was away, and he had responded. That was the extent of your communication over the last year. You didn’t bother to send another letter, fearing coming off as clingy or obsessed. When he failed to write to you again, you knew you had made the right decision.

“Wanna tell me more about Romania?” you asked, setting your cards down.

“Sure!” he answered enthusiastically. “But can we sit on the couch? My bum is sore from sitting on the floor.”

The two of you moved to the sofa and sat about a foot away from each other. He told you all about his experiences working with dragons. He went into detail about the training process, the proper way to handle a baby dragon, and the different breeds he got to study. You smiled as he talked, enjoying the way his eyes lit up whenever he discussed something he was passionate about.

“So, what about you?” he asked finally. “What have you been up to?”

“Well, I just finished my sixth year, which you already knew,” you said. “I aced most of my exams, I was invited into the Slug Club, and I’m currently working towards becoming Head Girl.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Charlie said. “You must be proud of yourself.”

“I am proud. Exhausted, but proud. Sometimes I wonder how I got this far. I look back at all the hard work I put in and still can’t figure out how I managed to do all that.”

“You’re pretty incredible,” said Charlie. “If anyone could accomplish that much, it would be you.” He paused. “Well, maybe also Percy. He’s a know-it-all.”

You blushed at his compliment. “Thanks, Charlie.” When you first told him about your achievements, you were worried he would think you were bragging. But his kind words put your fears at ease, reassuring you that it was okay to be happy for yourself and to want to share your goals and successes with others.

“You know, we should keep in touch more when I go back to Romania,” he said.

“Agreed. We hardly exchanged two letters in the past year.”

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I sort of didn’t write to anyone at all. I mean, unless they wrote to me first.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him. “You were probably too busy taming dragons or something,” you teased.

“I never forgot you,” he said, as if he had to make sure you knew his lack of communication wasn’t personal.

You felt your breath hitch. You knew he was probably only saying because he felt guilty for not sending letters to someone who obviously wanted to, but you secretly wished he had meant something more by those words. Did he miss you when he was away? Or did he just feel bad for cutting off a family friend who was desperate for company? Could he sense how you felt about him?

“I know,” you said. “You don’t have to feel bad for not writing. I know it’s nothing against me.” You really hoped he didn’t pity you or think you were pathetic. Your Gryffindor confidence truly gave out on you when you were around him.

“I-it’s not that,” he stammered. “It’s just, well, um.”

“It’s just what?” you questioned. Since when did Charlie Weasley get so tongue-tied?

“I, uh, I want you to know that I never forgot about you,” he finally spitted out, red in the face. “You’re, you’re different to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was Charlie Weasley, the boy you’ve been swooning over for years, confessing his feelings for you?

“Different how?” you asked, wanting him to get to the point. You needed to know how he felt about you, but you were slightly afraid of the outcome. What if it was all a misunderstanding? What if you had been reading the situation wrong, and he didn’t actually have feelings for you?

“Well, you’re like a friend,” Charlie began slowly. He seemed to have regained his natural confidence and composure. “But more than that.”

You stared at him, unable to speak.

“You’re like family,” he went on, “but I don’t see you as my sister or anything like that. I see you more as someone I could fancy, or rather, someone I do fancy.”

You were dumbstruck. The boy you were head-over-heels for actually liked you back. He had said it himself. He fancied you. No one else, you.

“Could you please say something?” Charlie asked.

You looked down to see him fidgeting with his hands. Was he really that anxious? The calmest person you knew was nervous around you?

“I can’t believe you just said that,” you said, looking him in the eyes. Those gorgeous brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, turning red again. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” you hurriedly told him. “I like you, too.”

“You do?” he asked, breaking into a grin that could make you melt into the ground.

“Yes, I do. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I never had the courage to say anything. I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Same here,” Charlie admitted. “I’ve liked you for a while, but it felt wrong of me to say so. You are my friend, after all. Plus, you’re two years younger than me.”

You nodded in agreement. You often questioned if it would be wrong to date someone who wasn’t your age. Would people think weirdly of you and Charlie if the two of you were in a relationship? Would either of you get in trouble?

You couldn’t help yourself from asking, “How long have you liked me for?” You were still flabbergasted and didn’t think you’d ever get over the news.

“Well, I’m not sure. Maybe since my sixth year? Although, it could’ve been before that. We were always such close friends that I didn’t notice when platonic feelings started to turn into something more.”

You nodded in understanding. “I get it. Although, I can’t say it was the same for me. My feelings for you weren’t gradual like that. I knew I liked you all at once. From the moment we first met, actually.”

“Oh, did you?” he teased. “Did you find me that charming?”

“Oh, shut it, you git,” you said while rolling your eyes at him. It felt nice to banter with him without the awkward tension from before. Knowing that he shared your feelings made it easier for you to talk to him.

“So, what now?” Charlie asked you. “Are we dating or...?”

“Well, you have to ask me out first, don’t you?” you said playfully, trying to hide your smile.

He let out a loud sigh. “If I must.”

“Go on,” you said with a smirk. You had missed his goofy side when you were apart from him.

“Y/N Y/LN, will you go out with me?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes again. “Yes, you doof. I will go out with you.”

He beamed. “Brilliant!”

You smiled back at him, reaching for his hands. You gripped his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. Those soft, brown eyes that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“But what will your family think?” you questioned, finally breaking his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Will your family be okay with this?”

“I’ve, uh, already told my parents about you,” you said sheepishly. “They’ve known I liked you for a long time, so they won’t have a problem with us dating. It’s your family I’m worried about.”

Charlie nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them? Not now, at least?”

“That would probably be best,” you agreed. “I don’t particularly want to deal with their judgement right now.”

Just then, the thudding of footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard.

“Charlie, Y/N, it’s bedtime!” Ron called from the landing. “Mum told me to tell you!”

“We’re coming, Ron!” Charlie shouted back. He turned to you. “So, I guess we’re keeping this a secret?”

“Guess so.”

That night, you couldn’t sleep as you laid in bed. You didn’t have to share Bill’s room with anybody, so you were utterly alone with your thoughts. Part of you was too excited to sleep. You couldn’t believe you were dating Charlie Weasley, the boy of your dreams. But part of you was also terrified of what the Weasleys would say once they found out. You already knew they liked you; you had been a friend of their children for a long time. And Charlie was their own son. But would a relationship be too much?

Aside from your worries about Charlie’s family, thoughts about how to make a relationship with him work also occupied your mind. He would be returning to the dragon reserve in Romania at the end of the summer, and you would be starting your last year at Hogwarts. Would you break up? Would you do long-distance? How would you make it work?

The next morning, everything proceeded as usual. You had breakfast with the Weasleys, along with Ron and Hermione, of course, and helped with the dishes afterward. You spent the rest of the day spending time with everyone, particularly Charlie. The two of you snuck off whenever you could, but it was difficult finding time to be alone with so many people at the Burrow.

The rest of the summer went accordingly. You spent your days playing games with the younger children, helping Mr. and Mrs. Weasley around the house, and enjoying quiet moments with Charlie. During your time alone, the two of you talked, made plans, and fell deeper in love with each other. You were infatuated with him, and he felt the same about you. Both of you dreaded the end of the summer, when you would eventually have to part ways.

You would miss the hot nights laying in the field, counting fireflies together. You would miss the sweet way you held each other’s hands underneath the dinner table. You would miss the rise and fall of his chest when he had fallen asleep on the banks of the nearby pond after a long afternoon of splashing around. You would miss the blush that crept up his cheeks when you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You would miss him, everything about him.

The last day of summer crept closer and closer. Before you knew it, it was your final night at the Burrow. You were set to leave with Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny early the next morning. A part of you was excited to finally start your last year at Hogwarts, knowing that this would bring you another step closer to your adult life. Some days, there was nothing you wanted more than to be done with school and to start working in the wizarding world. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be a healer or an auror or some other profession, but you knew you wanted to make a difference and do good things for others. But another part of you was saddened. You didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the Burrow. You didn’t want the carefree summer days to be nothing but a distant memory. And you didn’t want your blossoming relationship with Charlie to come to a close either.

It was past midnight, and you were the only one awake. Having had trouble falling asleep, you had gone down to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. After downing your drink, you had decided to perch on the sofa to contemplate your current situation. Physically, you were exhausted from a long day of frolicking in the fields and slinging rocks into the pond, the perfect end to the perfect summer. Mentally, you were restless as thoughts ran wild through your head. What would happen when you returned to school and Charlie went back to Romania? Your body was telling you to sleep, but your mind was keeping you up. You would be able to sleep on the train the next day, anyway.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded through the silence. “Why are you up?”

You broke free of your thoughts and glanced up to see Charlie staring back at you from the foot of the stairs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged. “Went down for some water and decided to sit here.”

Charlie grinned before plopping down next to you. “Well, then, I’m glad I happened to wake up just now. We can have one more moment together before we both leave tomorrow.”

You smiled back at him. “I think one more moment with you is just what I need right now.”

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked as he draped his arm around you.

You snuggled closer to his side. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about us. What’s going to happen after tomorrow?”

You peered into Charlie’s eyes and found that he looked utterly content, relaxed even. Was he not fazed by the idea of having to leave you?

“Well, you’re going back to school,” he began, “and I’m going back to the sanctuary.”

“But what about us?”

“We’ll do long-distance, I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “I don’t want to break up or anything.”

You smiled at that and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. You were glad he wasn’t too worried. It eased your nerves to see how well he was handling this. “I don’t want to break up either. But you better write me, you git.”

Charlie smirked. “Alright, I’ll write you.”

You punched him playfully. “You better.”

The two of you stayed on the couch for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. Its rhythmic pounding soothed you, let you know that everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, is that my jumper?” Charlie finally spoke, gesturing to knitted red garment you wore.

You grinned sheepishly, looking down at the jumper that hung oversized on you. “I wanted to have a piece of you before we go our separate ways. I didn’t think you’d miss it too much. You have a bunch of them.”

“You can keep it, love,” he said with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” you replied happily. You knew he wouldn’t have minded you taking his jumper, but it was nice to hear him say it himself. Something about the way he said it looked better on you made you cling onto him even tighter.

You and Charlie fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s arms. In the morning, you were awakened by the sound of stomping footsteps and rowdy laughter as the other children got ready to leave. Soon enough, Molly Weasley was ushering you and Charlie to get ready as well. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see the two of you sleeping on the sofa together. Like everyone else in the house, she knew of your relationship without having to be told.

Charlie decided to accompany you and rest of the returning Hogwarts troupe to the train station. He didn’t want to miss seeing you off, wanting to say goodbye one last time. By the time you reached Platform 9 3/4, it was finally hitting you that you would be leaving him again. But this time, it hurt a little less because you knew you wouldn’t be leaving behind an unrequited love. You would be leaving your boyfriend, someone who did feel the same way and would never stop caring about you no matter the distance.

Your goodbye was bittersweet. You were thrilled to be parting ways as two people who were dating at long last, but you were dismayed to leave him at all.

“Did you pack my jumper?” Charlie asked as he pulled you into one last hug.

“Sure did,” you grinned at him. “I’m going to miss you, Charlie.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, planting a kiss into your hair. “But there’s always next year.”

You finally pulled away and boarded the Hogwarts Express with the others. Sitting in between Ginny and Hermione, you waved out the window frantically as the train pulled out of the station. You continued to wave as the train continued to chug forward until the figures of Charlie, Molly, and Arthur Weasley became nothing but specks on the platform.

Tired from staying up late the night before, you allowed yourself to shut your eyes during the ride to school. As you were drifting off to sleep, the last words Charlie had said to you turned over and over again in your mind. But there’s always next year. He was right. Although you’d be apart for your last year at Hogwarts and his second year in Romania, you had your whole future ahead of you. You had the rest of your lives to be together, so it didn’t matter that you weren’t together now. You sank deeper and deeper into a peaceful slumber, letting the noise of the train inching along the tracks and the thoughts of your future with Charlie lull you to sleep.

#charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #charlie weasley fanfiction #weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction

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thirstystarkey · 4 years ago

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BEAUTIFUL SOUL 🦋 JJ MAYBANK

Prompt: During a summer road trip where the pogues agreed to help Kiara restoring her grandparents beach house JJ might come to terms with his long term feelings for his best friend, Y/N. (this is vaguely inspired in the song beautiful soul by jesse mccartney)

Warnings: I guess none besides mentions of alcohol and weed. A steamy make out sesh at the end.

not by gifs, credits to the owners

HE REMEMBERS, perfectly when it all happened. When he realized he loved her in a different way than he loved the rest of the pogues. That night still plays in his mind like a song but he is too stubborn to sing it out loud so what JJ does is look at Y/N, mesmerized by how lovely she is in hopes that maybe one day he gets enough courage to confess his deepest feelings, even if to do so he has to break the sacred rule of “no pogue on pogue mocking” that Kiara invented one day.

JJ looks out the window and it’s like he is living everything again.

The rain was pouring outside. His hair was wet and his face ached with pain, it was bloody and late at night but he had no other place to go. John B was spending the night with Sarah so Y/N was his last hope.

JJ knocked softly at her window, he could see her from outside. She looked so peaceful sitting in her bed while she made sea shell necklaces. He knocked again, she heared. Y/N looked at him, completely surprised by his presence at such hour but still she let him in.

“Oh my god JJ, are you okay?” Her voice was so tender JJ swore he could melt right there.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to bother you.” He sniffed. “I just... I had no other place to go.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s okay. I’m here now.”

Y/N promised and she really was there for him. She gave him clean and warm clothes so JJ didn’t get sick and she cleaned his wounds for him. Starting at his bruised knuckles and ending with his bloody face.

She tilted his chin up to get a better look at his face and at the evidence of the fight, sitting in the middle of his legs. Her delicate thumb ran through his bottom lip, to clean the little streak of blood. She said nothing as she examined it. After a brief moment of silence JJ’s heart skips a nervous beat as he looks Y/N dead in the eye. Even though their voices are quiet they are filled with tension and sorrow. Their anger barely restrained.

“Who did this to you?” Her voice was nothing more than a whisper.

“My dad.”

It broke her heart. But she had to be strong in that moment. Y/N finished her work and gave JJ the tightest hug in the planet after she kissed her cheek.

“You are welcome in my house anytime, any day.”

JJ let’s out a loud and long sign. John B is driving the old van and everyone his sitting in their usual places but his eyes always fixate in the same person, Y/N. His slender fingers move to the necklace he wears daily, like a protection blanket and he remembers its story.

“JJ!” Y/N’s voice echoed throughout the beach. At first it scared young JJ but soon he realized she just wanted him to look at something. “Look what I found!” The young girl almost shoved the thing in the boy’s face.

“Woah easy easy, what it that thing?”

“It’s a shark tooth, obviously. Look at it JJ, it even shines!” Y/N said proud of her discover. “I bet it was the ocean fairies.” She giggled softly and JJ laughed.

Later that year on JJ’s surprise birthday party Y/N didn’t had enough money for a expensive gift so she crafted a necklace it the tooth, hoping JJ would love it as much as she did. She even wrote him a little letter explaining why he was her best friend and how much she loved him.

He never took it off. Not even for a mere second and he kept the letter in his wallet behind a candid polaroid of him and Y/N that Pope managed to capture.

A snap of fingers brought the blond surfer boy back to reality, it was Pope, who was sitting next to Y/N and automatically his cheeks turned red as he mentally questioned himself if Pope noticed something.

“Are you high man?” Pope asked.

“Not yet. But I will be.”

“The only thing leaving you high is the paint as you use your arms to paint the walls!” Kiara said with a mandatory voice.

“What’s the fun in that Kie?” Y/N questioned her best friend, teasing her with a smirk as she winked at JJ.

“Can you two please stop being troublemakers just for two weeks?” Kiara begged and everyone laughed.

If there was one thing JJ knew about these upcoming two weeks was that he was fucked. How was he supposed to hide his feelings when he couldn’t even stop himself from staring at her like Y/N was the most beautiful this that ever walked on planet earth.

The ride came to an end and John B parked in front of the gracious Carrera’s beach house, the pogues agreed to fix it during the summer while they stayed at the house. Everything was supposed to be perfect and fun but JJ knew deep down this was the time were he had to come clean about his feelings. He couldn’t live with it no more, the only thing he needed was the perfect timing.

“There’s not enough rooms for everyone, we will have to share.” Kiara informed her friends as she walked inside, with a cooler.

Sarah and John B shared a look between them as if they were communicating telepathically. Pope was too entertained with himself to focus on the current conversation while Y/N and JJ were just waiting for the answers.

“We always share, it’s not a big deal Kie.” Y/N said sweetly as she carried her backpack. “I just want the room that faces the ocean.” The girl called it, before anyone did.

“That’s always my room.” JJ teased her.

“Guess it’s ours then.” Y/N fixed the problem. “See Kiara, easy.” She laughed walking up the stairs, the pogues following right after.

Only when JJ realized the room he chose to mess with Y/N just had one bed, perfectly placed in the middle of the room with a white sheet over it to protect it from the dust, facing the balcony, he started to understand how much he would need will power not to mess things up.

“Which said of the bed you want JJ?” Y/N asked, snapping him out off his daydreams. JJ awkwardly scratched the back of his head while his cheeks turned pink.

“The right side.” He said. He knew Y/N hated facing the door while she slept. “I know you’re still scared to face the door.” He laughed, while they both pulled the sheet from the bed.

“Fuck off.” Y/N giggled, laying down. “Ugh, I wish this was my house on day.” She stated, dreaming out loud. Y/N loved the ocean.

The blond boy hummed, he was sitting next to her while she had her eyes closed and felt the ocean breeze on her skin, it was lovely. JJ admired her, he loved to count the freckles on her sun kissed cheeks but only when she had her eyes closed, so she couldn’t see. He also wondered how it would feel like to trace them, even though it was normal for all of them to cuddle and show affection JJ still struggled with it due to his past abuse.

“Wake up guys! C’mon shit heads, you didn’t come to sleep, there’s work to do!” Pope stormed inside, scaring both Y/N and JJ who jumped on their feet.

#obx #outer banks #jj maybank #rudy pankow #jj #rudy #jj smut #jj x reader #jj x y/n #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank blurb #jj maybank smut

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collecting-stories · 4 years ago

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Crazier - JJ Maybank

Request: heyy can you do one when she and jj date, and he sees her playing the guitar and finds it very attractive, please !!!! i love everything you write

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long for me to get to!

TS Anthology Series | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ Feels like I’m falling and I, I’m lost in your eyes ✰

In Mrs. Carrera’s constant pursuit to do something new and interesting at the Wreck, she had come to the conclusion that people really liked Open Mic Nights. And maybe somewhere in a sitcom from the 90’s or 00’s someone actually did, but there, in the Outer Banks, in the real world, Open Mic Nights were for weird people who confused the event with karaoke.

But Kiara’s dad, who usually shot down the outlandish ideas his wife had, agreed to this one. She borrowed equipment, and a person to set it up, from the Island Club. She put posters up for people to sign up on the restaurant's Facebook page and she asked all of Kiara’s friends if any of them would be interested.

“An open mic?” Kiara asked, raising an eyebrow in skepticism as she sat at the front counter with you, splitting a tray of fries.

“I think it would be fun.” Her mom defended, “like Nashville or something.”

“Mom, this is not the Bluebird and you are Connie Briton.”

“I’ll do it.” You cut in, looking between them both as they stared at you with mild shock. “I mean, just one song but...I’ll do it.” You and Kiara had been only started hanging out at the beginning of the summer, when JJ first decided to introduce his friends to his girlfriend. You fell in with them easily and sometimes you felt like you spent more time with Kiara than with JJ.

“Do not agree to this ridiculous thing just to appease my mom.” Kiara insisted.

“I’m not.” You promised, “I wrote a song...it’d be kinda cool to sing it in front of everyone.” It was only half decent in your mind, a little cheesy honestly but you’d been learning different songs on the guitar and had finally decided to write one of your own. “As long as JJ doesn’t come.”

“Why?” Kiara asked.

“Cause...it’s about him and I’ll be totally embarrassed if he hears it.” You hadn’t even mentioned to your boyfriend that you could play guitar, let alone that you fooled around trying to write songs.

“You wrote a song about JJ?” She seemed mildly surprised, as if she couldn’t imagine someone writing a song about her best friend. There were a lot of things a person could write a song about but she wasn’t entirely sure that JJ measured up to those things. Not that she didn’t love him, cause she did, but a song about him? “I definitely need to hear that.”

In her mind, Kiara kept her promise not to tell JJ. Instead she told Pope, knowing he would tell JJ, leaving out the part where you were performing and he was the subject of your song. She only told Pope that she was planning on going to the Open Mic night at the Wreck, the first annual, with you and that maybe everyone could meet up.

Most of the acts weren’t anything to fawn over, semi local talent or believed talent, getting up there to wow the crowded of tipsy patrons with songs or poems. Kiara sat at a table near the front with you as you tried not to bob your knee or break out in a sweat or do anything else that would give away your nervousness. You had been pretty gung-ho about performing when Kiara’s mom first suggested it but now you were starting to regret the idea. Just as you were starting to calm yourself down, the silent pep talk working, you felt someone’s hands on your shoulders, looking up to see JJ standing over you.

“Uh hey,” you were hesitant as you spoke, side-eyeing Kiara but she wouldn’t look at you. “What are you doing here?”

“Kie mentioned it to Pope, figured we could watch together.” A sweet sentiment, it wasn’t the one you wanted him to be offering by far.

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, “it’s just…actually-“ Kiara’s mom had taken it upon herself to MC the evening and she chose that moment to call your name through the mic. You looked back at JJ sheepishly, “I’m singing.”

There wasn’t a lot that surprised your boyfriend but that clearly had, the look of shock and confusion on his face not going away even as you kissed his cheek and went up on stage. You had been adamant about not wanting JJ to show up just in case this entire thing was a complete failure and you were booed off stage, though that seemed like a bit of a stretch.

Pope pulled JJ into a chair and he leaned across the table to Kiara, “did you know she could sing?” He asked.

“Not until like, last week.” Kiara admitted, “you’ve never heard her sing?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Maybe you guys could shut up and pay attention,” Pope instructed, nudging JJ to sit up straight.

You pulled the stool in the corner of the small makeshift stage over to the mic so you could sit while you played. You had helped Kiara and her dad construct the stage out of pallets earlier in the afternoon. A little rough but this wasn’t some big city place, this was the Outer Banks. You sat on the stool, trying to keep your calm and also not to look at JJ. If you did you would definitely chicken out.

You sat your guitar, beginning the opening chords of the song you’d written a few weeks earlier, “I’d never gone with the wind…”

JJ sat back in his chair, a slow smile on his face as he watched you sing. He had never heard you sing before, had seen a guitar in your room but didn’t think about it long enough to actually ask if you could play. Now he sat there listening, his smile widening each time you glanced his way. He watched the way you fingers moved along the guitar, impressed with a talent he had never known existed before.

You managed to get through the whole of the song without messing up, stumbling a little off the stool at the end as the small crowd applauded. You left the guitar for the next performer and stepped off the stage by your friends. You’d have to face JJ now.

“Well?” You asked, holding your arms out and shrugging. Trying to play it cool.

“Babe, that was fucking amazing!” JJ said, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a hug, practically lifting you off your feet. You laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady.

“Oh my god, that was awesome,” Kiara exclaimed, coming around the table to put her hand on your back. “I had no idea you could play guitar, let alone sing!”

“Of course she can, my girlfriend’s incredibly fucking talented.” JJ replied.

You pulled away from him, laughing, “you had no idea either.”

“Kiara, can you help me in the kitchen real quick?” Mr. Carrera called, walking over to your table.

Pope gave you a hug, congratulating you before following Kiara to the kitchen, offering to help her out, mainly just to let you and JJ be alone for a minute. The moment the two of them were away JJ pulled you closer to him again, pressing his lips against the side of your head.

“That was seriously amazing.” JJ reiterated. “What song was that?”

“Not the stuff you usually listen to?” You teased. The country-ish tune was far from the indie stuff that Kiara and JJ were always blasting in the car. “Actually, I wrote it.”

The mischevious nature of JJ’s smile told you that he didn’t need any more explanation than that to know that he was the subject of the song. “Oh really?”

“Just because I wrote it, doesn’t mean it’s about you.”

“But it is.” He replied.

“Maybe, maybe not.” You shrugged, laughing when he kissed you again. “Who knows?”

“I know. And I know it’s about me.” JJ said.

Taglist: @heavenlymama @vindictive-hearts @alexa-playafricabytoto @dontjinx-it @randomficsandshit @niamhobrien @strangerthanfanfiction713 @tovvaa @freckled-and-daydreaming @harleylynn @bibliophilewednesday @dpaccione @bolaurel @poguestyleskye @beautyandthebleh @under-a-canyon-moon @stevie-buck @bijleegiregi @vitaminekabc @minigranger @teamnick @just-smile-darling @obxsummer @damonsalvawhore27 @isqbella @tomzfrog @fangirlvoice @phantompogues @98starkeys @ilovejjmaybank @lemur46 @khiaraaa-in-spacee @babygal-babygal @niya-savage @divvrx @princess-of-the-fandoms @thecaptainsgingersnap @jenjie @yourprincess-maybe @wowmaybankk

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kickingitwithkirk · 4 years ago

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Greetings from Austin pt. III

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

WC: 3825

Warnings: a/b/o, bisexuality, biphobia, homophobia, angst, cursing, self doubt, depression/anxiety, married life/disagreements, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility/surrogacy

*flirting, m/m oral sex, Jensen’s insecurities are coming out, Jared gets arrested, both get counseling

A/N: This part consists of several time jumps over four month period.

A/N II: Hey, sorry took me a way longer to get done than planned, rewrote Oct 23 a dozen times alone and hoping makes sense, trying to flesh out characters more and has some stuff that plays into story line in later parts.

Part II

Masterlist

@winchesterandbeyondbingo square filled-Jensen Ackles

*Series Inspired by this art.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

September 8th

7:30 am

Jensen was sitting in the makeup chair clenching his extra strong coffee container to help warm his hands. He’d spent a second, uncomfortable night in his trailer on location as Vancouver was having an unusual cold snap this time of year and with the covid restrictions the director decided that everyone needed to stay on site.

While he wasn’t happy about the weather, missing his own personal heater but at the same time grateful for a brief break from Jared now that they were heading towards the next phase of starting their family.

Jensen jokingly said they needed a code name since they were planning on keeping their plans a secret, even from their families, until the pups were born, playfully suggesting a cartoon from their childhoods.

Of course with Jared’s weird sense of humor, he loved it and started throwing ideas like operation: pound puppies.

“Penny for your thoughts.” Frieda said as she applied a concealer under his eyes to hide the dark smudges from not sleeping well.

“Huh?”

“You asked about my new job and haven’t heard anything I’ve said, wanna talk about it?”

“Sorry, not focusing very well today.”

“Yeah, we’re all feeling out of sorts with this being the last couple days.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he was down to his last two days of filming.

“Too bad this virus messed everything up, it would’ve been a hell of a send off if everybody could have been here.”

Alex and Misha had left right after they’d finished but Jim Beaver was back for the ending. It was only right for Bobby Singer to be there at the end, having been such a pivotal character in the brothers lives.

Frieda continues chatting about random things while finishing his makeup. A PA stuck his head in calling Jensen to the set. He stepped out of the trailer and smiled seeing his Baby sitting near the building being used as the exterior of Harvelle's Roadhouse.

***

September 12th

“Jen, I’m taking out the bags,” Jared calls out seconds before the apartment's front door shut.

Jensen was doing one last check around the place for any forgotten anything. Satisfied, he walked into the living room containing neatly marked boxes ready to be shipped back to Texas, relieved they had downsized from the big house Jared had years ago.

He stopped to gaze out the picture window when a pair of strong arms wrapped around his waist, molding his back to the muscular chest of his mate, who rested his chin on his shoulder quietly saying, “I’m gonna miss this view.” Jensen hummed in agreement tipping his head back as Jared nuzzled his neck.

“We need to get going if we’re gonna make Seattle by seven,” Jared softly muttered as they’d stood there for a few heartbeats longer before releasing him. They walked to the door and Jensen turned once more to gaze out the window at the view of Vancouver.

***

September 21st

“This has been a great trip but man, I’ll be glad to be in our own bed tonight.” Jared remarks as they drive past a green highway sign saying Austin 312.

“Can’t wait,” Jensen drowsily says having not slept much the last couple days. They had decided to road trip it back to Texas, stopping at a few places they had wanted to visit for awhile.

Jared somehow managed to finagal, okay so his mind numbing blow job combined with those lethal long fingers that always makes Jensen agree to anything got him a couple extra days in southern Colorado.

Jensen enjoyed the beautiful scenery and hiking in the mountains but hated camping out. Well, it wasn’t technically roughing it the way Jared liked but still.. a frigging yurt in late September?

Oy vay, what he did for love.

The sound of Jared singing along to some classic country song on the radio as he drove finally put Jensen completely out.

***

October 23rd

Turning from the open fridge with a puzzled expression on his face, Jared senses the same vague something he’s felt God knows how many times in the last couple months.

Shutting the door he walked over to the island counter where his husband was seated pushing his unfinished dinner around on his plate.

“Jen, what’s going on? Are you worried about the implantation? Dr. Rodgers said the embryos were healthy and optimistic the surrogate took this first try.”

What Jensen wants to ask, the question that’s plagued him since that day in August choosing their Omega surrogate...how the hell does he phrase it without upsetting Jared?

“Did you choose her because you knew she’d be the one I’d pick?”

Jensen slapped his hand over his mouth, eyes wide, disbelieving he blurted it out.

Jared worked to find a response squeaking an actual squeak before he could get control over his vocals, “That’s what I’ve been sensing!” Gripping the edge of the counter with his big hands, “Are you seriously going there again? I was honest about our interactions when I realized she was the one I knocked down at the clinic and FYI, you weren’t exactly in full control either Alpha!”

Jensen clenched his teeth at being reminded his inner need to be in control at all times slipped.

“I’ve racked my brains trying to figure it out how to ask something like that without upsetting you!” Jensen yells getting up and pacing around the kitchen.

Jared huffed, “So all this time instead of talking to me, you’ve conjured up some..”

“For the last two years I’ve gotten the sense you feel somethings missing, kept telling myself it’s your unfulfilled biology. But ever since you meet that Omega you’ve been.. I can’t explain it and now I’m second guessing our marriage Ja....” his rant abruptly cut off.

Jared’s eyes were glowing red, pinning him with an eerie wolf expression, the intensity disconcerting him. “I chose you, my husband, my soulmate, my everything!“ The words should have been reassuring but Jared’s voice was pitiless, something Jensen's never heard pass from his lips before.

Jared took a deep breath and with normalcy returning said, “I love you Jensen and I thought you understood, for me, in my mind, both of us having pups with the same donor means my offspring won’t be seen as just step relations but will grow up having strong familial ties with JJ, Arrow and Zeppelin.”

Jensen started to speak when a low, reverberating growl from Jared warning him not to interrupt.

“I consciously listened to my inner wolf when it came to choosing the person who is biologically the Om of our children and I,” Jared emphasizes tapping his chest with his long index finger, ”have no regrets but apparently you do.” Taking a deep breath Jared drops a non sequitur, ”The dogs need to be fed,” and walks away.

At the sound of Jared’s SUV leaving Jensen’s legs gave out and he drops to the floor curling up in a fetal position wrapping his arms over his head. Arlo and Koda laid down, one on each side, cocooning him between them.

***

Thanksgiving

“The kids are in a tryptophan coma,” Jensen announces as he walks in through the kitchen's back door. He had followed Danneel home afterwards helping get JJ and the twins cleaned up and put to bed, “they’ll be out till Monday.”

“Good, cause I’m dead on my feet,” Jared replies yawning while loading the dishwasher. It had been their turn to host the holiday with Danneel, the kids, Clif, Jared’s siblings and their broods.

“I told you to wait and I’d help finish the cleanup when I got back.” Jensen said as Jared started the machine.

“I figured you’d wanna stay awhile and be too tired and I didn’t want to deal with it tomorrow. All that’s left is to put the trash and recycling out, could you grab it?”

“On it,” Jensen picked up the bags walking around the side of the house dropping them into their designated receptacles.

When he came back in Jared was switching off the lights downstairs. They made their way up to the bedroom taking turns in the bath getting ready for bed.

Jensen was sitting with his back against the headboard checking his messages when Jared drops heavily next to him, “I plan on sleeping for the next three days.” He mutters resting his head against Jensen’s shoulder.

“Sounds good to me babe, I’m glad we didn’t schedule anything extra this weekend, be nice to spend some time alone.” He finishes wiggling his eyebrows.

“Hmm, do you remember last year's Thanksgiving?”

Jared closed the kitchen pantries door, pushing Jensen against it seductively lowering his fox slanted eyes huskily whispering, “I’m so fucking horny I need my dick you now.”

“Dude, we’re re in my sisters...“

“..you’ll have to be quiet,” Jared dove in for a deep, dirty kiss, grinding against Jensen until he was begging to be fucked.

“You’re the one who got us busted..oh fuck Jensen..so fucking tight..fuck..not gonna last..then later I get Mac saying it sounded like your dick...”

“Okay..buuut,” Jared tilts his head slowly running his tongue up the column of Jensen’s neck, “you gotta admit,” hand slipping under his sleep shirt, “our sex life,” long fingers tip toe up the smooth, freckled chest, pads teasing his left nipple as Jared nibbles on his earlobe, ”is never boring.”

Jensen groans, dropping his arm, still clinching the phone, tipping his head to expose more of his neck to Jared’s wondrous lips, enjoying the scratch of his short beard.

“I thought you were sleeping the next three days.”

Jared answers by removing his hand and straddling his husband's thick thighs taken the phone placing it on the nightstand and starts nibbling along the other side of Jensen’s sensitive neck, working his way to his slightly raised claim mark flattening his tongue licking the ultra sensitive spot that always drives his Alpha wild.

Jensen slides his hands up Jared’s back finding a grip in his shortened hair, unhappy about how much he’s cut off for Walker, unable to tangle his thick fingers into the soft tresses like he used to.

Finding a purchase he pulls hard making Jared groan at the pleasurable sensation tips his head back till it’s the perfect angle for Jensen to run his tongue across those candy pink lips, teasing them open to grant him access, continues teasing, alternating between caressing Jared’s tongue with his and sucking on his lips.

Moaning, Jared rocks his hips seeking friction, breaks their kissing long enough to work Jensen's sleep shirt off. They end up wrestling a few moments before Jared tosses it as Jensen’s lips attack his more desperately.

Tapping Jared’s thigh, Jensen rolls them kneeling between sleep pant clad legs watching as Jared reaches up gripping the strategically placed bar in their custom made headboard with both hands, his pecs flexing in anticipation of what’s to come.

Not breaking eye contact Jensen bends forward, his lips a hair's breadth from Jared’s, slowly slides backwards hovering, caressing the acres of golden skin beneath him with only his warm breath, pausing to hook his fingers in the pants waistband and pulling them with him as he continues journeying south.

Slowly making his way back north he leaves wet, open mouth kisses along the now naked, extra long, muscular legs he loves, sucking on the insides of both thighs, nipping hard enough to leave marks before arriving at his designated stop.

He hasn’t even touched Jared’s beautiful cock yet it’s fully engorged, resting against his flat stomach vigorously leaking precome. Jensen dips his tongue into his bellybutton lapping up the liquid collecting in it, cause fuck, he’s loves how more sweet than salty Jared’s always tasted.

Hips rolling Jared rubs his cockhead against Jensen’s tongue and he kitten licks the dribbling slit before resting his head on Jared’s lower stomach and wrapping his lips around the velvety head.

Shifting his grip on the bar Jared’s makes nonsensical noises, toes curling at the mixed sensations of his mates silky beard tickling his lower regions while sucking on his cockhead, alternates swirling his tongue over the nerves underneath and teasing his slit sending spikes of pleasure radiating through him.

After all these years Jared’s still amazed at Jensen’s knowledge of his body, his ability to keep him on the edge of not enough for however long he’s in the mood to play.

“..pleease...need to cum...got to..so fucking..uhh..Alpha!”

Raising up on a forearm Jensen starts bobbing up and down his shaft, pausing briefly on each downward pass, working his throat open to take Jared further in until he’s nose deep in dark, trimmed pubic hair. Holding his mate's substantial cock in his throat swallows around him as Jared’s knot inflates, pushing his jaws apart till it’s too much.

Letting the knot slip out from between his plump lips Jensen wraps a hand firmly around it and starts vigorously bobbing drawing out a litany of obscene noises, feels Jared’s balls drawing up and backs off swallowing the warm, thick, spurting liquid.

Leisurely licking until Jared hissed, too sensitive for anymore kisses the tip one last time crawls back up the bed searching for his pillow and face plants on it.

“Dude, you’ve finally sucked out my last brain cell.”

Purring deep in his chest, Jensen gives Jared a self satisfied smirk, who mutters, “wasn’t trying to give you a bigger head.”

Rolling onto his side Jensen displays his turgid cock needing attention, “okay, he’s the bigger head,” Jared concedes reaching down running his fingers over the weeping tip, wetting them with precome spreads it over the shaft firmly fisting Jensen’s pulsing thickness, moving his hand up and down excruciatingly slowly.

“So,” his honeyed voice lowers an octave watching Jensen dissolving into a breathy mess, “how does he want me?”

Jensen opens his mouth to answer when a phone rings. Glaring over his shoulder, “not mine,” he growls. Still stroking him Jared stretches for his, “it’s the clinic..hello? Dr. Rodgers, hey, how are you sir?” He lets go sitting up against the headboard.

Why’s the doctor calling them at such an odd time, on a holiday no less?

Jared's brow wrinkles before he turns to Jensen, eyes sparkling breaks out his wondrous smile making his dimples pop.

“Jensen, she’s pregnant!”

Jared's practically bouncing on their bed like he’s on a massive sugar high discussing what comes next with the doctor. Jensen feels his erection rapidly diminishing, gets up heading into the bath and turns on the shower.

Climbing in he crosses his arms against the far wall, resting his forehead against them closing his eyes as hot water bounces across his broad shoulders.

Jensen knows he should be elated. Jared’s getting the pup (or pups) he’s desired for years and the possibility of being a father himself again. Instead, his heart seized up in conflict.

***

After that god awful argument in October he ended up at Josh’s, who confessed his mate and him were seeing a counselor because they were having marital issues too. Spending the night drinking and reflecting Jensen came home the next morning to a still angry Jared cause he didn’t know where the fuck his husband was all night.

Filling him in about his talk with Josh, Jared seemed somewhat mollified but a few nights later...

Walker star Jared Padalecki arrested near the one year anniversary of Stereotype bar altercation.

· Jared Padalecki was arrested once again in Austin, Texas, early Sunday morning on one count of public intoxication…

When he got released Jared sat Jensen down pleading with him to sit in on his next therapy session, saying they couldn’t keep going on like this, it was tearing him apart.

He wants..no..needs Jensen to completely open up, stop trying to protect him and discuss what’s going on in his head, what he’s really feeling.

Jared’s therapist started off informing both of them he wasn’t a marriage counselor but after a brief conversation with Jared knew the situation was having a detrimental impact on his mental health.

He listened to them separately, then together, about their observations and thoughts on each other’s behaviors came up with a hypothesis:

Since Jared’s last depressive episode, his random thoughts/emotions were feeding more into Jensen’s deep seated insecurities over his mate’s open, flirtatious personality and how he perceives others attraction/interactions to him.

And now Jared’s inner wolf is demonstrating an intense attraction to an Omega, something never encountered before with past preferences in Beta females, with this new dynamic Jensen didn’t know how to handle it.

Jensen opened and closed his mouth several times sputtering before saying this was complete bullshit and stormed out.

***

Lost in thought Jensen didn’t notice his husband stepping into the open shower stall until his considerable frame was blocking the water, Jared’s voice drew him out of his musings.

“I can hear you thinking clear in the other room.”

Cupped Jensen’s face between his large hands he gazed into those spring colored eyes that captured his heart the moment he looked into them years ago, “Hey, no matter what happens next, we’re good.”

***

December 16th

Jared was sitting in his chair chatting with Lindsey and Keegan while the crew was finishing setting up for the next scene when his phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number but excuses himself, stepping away for some privacy answering.

“Hey, everything okay?” Lindsay asked after he hung up, concerned by the visible tension rolling off the big Alpha.

“Umm..I don’t know, I need to make another call...” Jared said, waving the phone, “yeah, let us know if you need anything.” Keegan says and Jared nodded his thanks.

The phone rang three times, “Hey Clif, I need a favor.”

***

December 19th

Clif pulled the SUV into the parking lot, “Are you sure this is the right place?” Jared inquires looking around taking in the old motel located in a very questionable area of Austin.

“This is the name the guy mentioned.” Clif replied, getting out heading for the office. Couple minutes later he climbed back in, “the manager said the laundry out back.” He started the vehicle and drove to the rear of the property.

Clif got out again and knocked on the building's door. An older Hispanic woman answered engaging him in a brief conversation before stepping back inside.

Clif nodded to Jared and as he got out of the vehicle that piquant scent hit him seconds before the door reopened. The person he’d spent days searching for froze in the doorway upon seeing him.

***

December 22nd

Jensen, claiming out of the Uber, grabbed his bag thanking the driver, walked up the front stone pathway relieved to be home from L. A. after a hopefully final costume fitting for his new role as Soldier Boy, this flying back and forth every week for the last couple months had gotten old real quick and he was looking forward to enjoying the holidays at home.

Jared’s parents were coming tomorrow and staying for a few days as was Danneel and their pups. Josh said he was still planning on dropping by a few hours Christmas Day since he and Mac were scheduled to spend most of the holiday with their parents.

Jensen felt that mixture of anger and sadness he got thinking about his parents. He was raised in their church and though he never believed in it, respected their choice.

Too bad they couldn’t reciprocate.

***

Alan and Donna belonged to an ultra conservative church. The foundations of child rearing was to be found in the good book and in the Ackles household-spare the rod, spoil the child-was gospel.

When they were growing up neither parent was the physically or emotionally demonstrative type, only showing their offspring a reserved affection, especially in public.

The saving grace was their Beta nanny who gave them unconditional love, especially Jensen, who was shy as a child already knowing he was different from his siblings. She instilled the confidence in them to discover who they truly were inside and encouraged Jensen to come out before moving to California.

Shortly after graduating he told his family about his bisexuality and his boyfriend was moving to L.A. with him.

Alan and Donna tried to stop him. He was to go to their pastor and confess his transgressions, beg forgiveness for his sins against the church and its teachings, threatening to pull the agreed upon six month financial support while he auditioned for parts before going to college if it didn’t work out.

Jensen refused, packed up, took his boyfriend and left. He got his first break shortly after and quickly learned Hollywood didn’t care what his sexual orientation was as long as he kept it behind closed doors.

His management agency decided early on to promote Jensen as the good guy/boyfriend type. They also set him up on dates to events with many up and coming female artists of the time. He had no problem playing along when he wasn’t actually dating a woman.

His big break came on the CW. After co-starring in a couple series for the network he was offered the chance to be a lead in a new series created by Eric Kripke.

At the audition he met former Gilmore Girls heartthrob, Jared Padalecki, flashing his infectious smile, dimples for days and the most beautiful, incredible color shifting eyes Jensen’s ever seen, he was done for.

Jensen might not have his biological parents in his life anymore but his now in-laws, the complete opposite of the Ackles, helped fill that hole.

It’s easy to see where Jared’s personality comes from. His Om, Sherrie, is overly affectionate, excessively physical and verbal with everyone she considers family, biological or not.

The first time he accompanied Jared home on a holiday break Jensen was literally bowled over by the five foot nothing Omega and instantly became part of her brood.

***

Barley getting the front door open Jensen is hit with the piquant scent of orange blossoms and spices he couldn’t quite place.

Dropping his carry-on bag in the foyer he followed the scent further into the house. Arlo sat up near the large picture windows facing the backyard where he and Koda are napping and gets up coming over to greet him.

“Hey big guy, where’s daddy at?” Jensen asked rubbing around his ears like he liked having thought Jared would still be on set before the holiday break.

He heads towards the kitchen where the scent seems to be coming from, “Babe is that coffee shop back open, what’s it called, has those sweet rolls you're obsessed with..” he abruptly stopped and blinks not believing what was in front of him.

More accurately who was in front of him.

“Babe is in his office and dinner will be ready in twenty.”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

***

tbc

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest

SPN: @donnaintx @lyarr24

Sam/Jared @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @flamencodiva

#jensen ackles #jared padalecki #j2 husbands #winchesterandbeyondbingo #alpha!jensen ackles #alpha!jared padalecki #alpha!jensenxalpha!jaredxomega!ofc #j2 au #j2 fanfic #j2alphas #a/b/o ofc #spn #supernatural #slow burn

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rosy-cheekx · 4 years ago

Text

I Want To Be A Real Fake

@kaiserkorresponds said: Black and White + "I want to be a real fake" + formal clothing <3

Prompted fic that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about since I received it! Hope you like it, Kaiser!

Jon would not consider himself fashionable. He has a distinct sense of style, yes, but that style lately has been Tired-Academic-Works-in-a-Cold-Office,-Steals-Sweaters-When-Necessary-core. Not exactly suitable for the business casual dress code The Magnus Institute “requires” (no one seemed to pay attention to the Archive staff’s choices of attire), but certainly not suitable for the small rectangle of cardstock Elias Bouchard hands him, on a quiet spring morning in the Archive.

“What’s…what’s this?” Jon asked, staring at the neat, printed text as if it was Greek. (If it were Greek, at least, he could decipher parts of it. He was an English Lit student, after all, and he had really enjoyed etymology.) The card was a stiff black and white, with the black owl logo, the symbol of the Magnus Institute, printed in the top middle. Glancing down at it, he saw a date, and the words: “black-tie.” Shit.

“My apologies, I forgot how tired your position tends to leave you.” Elias’s voice was prim and polite, but Jon still winced inwardly. “As a head of a department, you are now strongly encouraged to attend the fundraiser I host in April each year. Our donors are fascinated by our departments, and especially the Archives. Gertrude’s disappearance has raised questions as to her successor, and I trust you can assuage the concerns of our donors at your accomplishments in the position.” Jon chose to believe that Elias’s keen eye didn’t sweep the mountains of paperwork that surrounded his desk as he surveyed the small, poorly lit office. “I’m certain you’ll be able to find appropriate attire for the occasion.”

He turned on a heel, halfway to the door before seemingly considering something. “Ah, and Jon, one more thing. Gertrude always requested she bring an assistant. Would you like to do the same? I am happy to accommodate one more for the catering count.”

Jon snapped his mouth shut, utterly dumbfounded by the responsibility just thrust upon him, and nodded mutely, before clearing his throat. “Ah-um, yes, I would appreciate that. Does it matter which one?”

“Someone who can make a pleasant impression, please.” Elias raised an eyebrow, nodded almost imperceptibly, like he had made a decision, and rapped his knuckles on the doorframe on the way out. “I trust your judgement.”

Jon counted to thirty, to be certain Elias wasn’t coming back, and slouched into his office chair, scanning the save-the-date again, without the immense pressure of Elias’s eyes on him.

“The Magnus Institute Fundraiser Gala,” it read below the embossed owl, within a thin black border. “23 April, 7-10 pm. Black tie. Catered.” Jon traced the owl with the pad of his finger, flipping the card over to see, in Elias’s thin cursive: Make a good impression, Jon.

God, this is going to suck.

“Sasha, come on.” Jon wasn’t one to beg, but desperate times and all that. He had cornered her in the breakroom, while Martin was on a research trip and Tim was getting takeaway from the chippie down the street. “It’s only three weeks away, and you’re the one I trust the most. Please.”

“Jon,” Sasha sighed, smoothing her skirt patiently. “I would if I could, I swear to you. But my sister’s wedding has been planned for months, I’ve already requested time off, and I can’t undo all that for a work party.”

“Fundraiser,” Jon corrected instinctively, even as he signed in resignation. “Fine. I just really didn’t want to go alone.”

Sasha scoffed, shaking her head to herself as she opened the fridge and pulled out her bagged lunch. “You have two other assistants you know. What about Tim? Or Martin?”

Jon wrinkled his nose at the thought of bringing nervous, rambling, doe-eyed Martin to the gala. “God no. Martin would be too much; I need someone who can handle themselves and hold a decent conversation. I need someone who can attend a black-tie gala and look more at-home than me.” A withering look from Sasha.

“So why not Tim, then? He can do all those things.”

“Do all what things?” Jon jumped and spun around to see Tim, carrying a grease-spotted bag in one hand and a paper soda cup in the other. He surveyed Tim in a moment: the button-up shirt, red and printed with tiny black balloons, sleeves rolled to the elbows. Sunglasses pushed to the top of his head, dark black hair artfully mussed. High cheekbones dotted with freckles, and what Jon swore could be the faintest bit of eyeliner.

“Tim, would you like to go to a fashionable, catered work party with me?”

“Boss,” Tim lowered himself to a knee and held out his soda solemnly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“Tim, that’s backwards. The kneeler isn’t the one who accepts,” Sasha chuckles helpfully.

“You’re just jealous of our love, Sash!”

Good Lord.

Jon was really hoping the food would be good. He was in Tim’s flat, in the toilet, checking himself in the mirror one final time. His hair was carefully braided, courtesy of Tim’s deft hands and coiled into a thick bun at the base of his skull, gold and emerald hairpin snugly in place. His suit was nice: a respectable white shirt, dotted with tiny lime-colored flowers he had to strain his eyes to see, under a dark green suit jacket and matching trousers. The suit itself was cut in a rather androgynous style, pulling tight at Jon’s waist in a way he rather liked, and contrasted beautifully, he thought, with the smooth brown of his skin. He flicked an invisible piece of lint from his thigh and, satisfied, stepped into the hall to tell Tim he was ready to go.

“Tim, I’m all-woah,” the exhale was accidental. Tim’s suit was certainly not subtle. He was wearing a deep blue turtleneck, hair perfectly coiffed. Over the turtleneck, the suit jacket was white, a spray of water-color flowers in all shades of blue and purple shifting with every movement. The navy blue heeled suede boots on his feet accentuated his already-tall frame “Tim, you look good,” Jon breathed.

“Ouch. No need to sound all surprised. I know I clean up well; I dirty pretty damn good too.” Tim chuckled and adjusted his sleeves. “You don’t look so bad yourself, Mr. ‘I don’t want anything too crazy.’”

Jon grinned shyly, rocking on his heels of his own, less intimidating dress shoes. “I like it, I think. It feels nice.” The excitement over how good he felt in the clothes had, all too briefly, suppressed the impending doom he was feeling about the evening’s events. “Are you ready for tonight?” he asked for what must have been the fiftieth time, spinning the solid black ring he wore around his finger.

“Yes, Jon. Talk about the reorganization process as a structural renovation, converting files to audio formatting for future accessibility, don’t talk about artefact storage even a little, don’t get caught up with anyone too pretty, I get it.” His voice was flat, bored by the repetition. “This is going to be fine.”

“What-what if it isn’t, though, Tim? What if they ask about Gertrude or how their money is being used, o-or how the restructuring is going? I can’t bloody well tell them I’m using a tape recorder that’s probably older than I am.”

“Jon,” Tim’s well-manicured hand was on his shoulder, nails the same blue of his turtleneck. “Take a deep breath. For Gertrude: be honest. It was a tragedy, and you hope she’s found, but until then you’re doing your best to act on her wishes as her replacement. And for the rest, be vague. Restructuring is going ‘as well as can be expected’ or ‘is running quite smoothly with the help of your three wonderful assistants.’” He winked. “And tell them you’re using a multimedia system, that’ll confuse those old boomers enough to move topics. And it is technically true. Laptops and a tape recorder are multiple medias. Anything else we can riff, you know? I can talk with the best of them.” He eyed Jon meaningfully. “This will be fine. It’s one night. And we’ll get chips after. Promise.”

Jon nodded and closed his eyes, breathing steadying. He was grateful Tim had been available. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“So, how did you know what black tie meant?” Jon asked, eyeing Tim across the seat of the cab. They’re on their way now and Jon’s hands are steepled tightly, pressing his fingertips against each other until it hurts to do so. “I had to Google it last week when I went shopping, in case we had to wear literal black ties.” He needed to talk about anything, anything but this stupid fundraiser they drove steadily towards.

Tim grew silent for a moment, considering his words. “My brother was an extra in a movie once and started dating a stylist for one of the leads. He fibbed his way into getting us tickets for premieres, so I’ve made my way through a few high-fashion events.” He shrugged, fiddling with a thin silver bracelet along his wrist, were Jon knew the letter D was carved in delicate cursive. “I like it, too, you know? Dressing up for events. It makes me feel debonaire, like a spy.”

Jon shook his head in disagreement. “Makes me feel fake,” he mumbled, eyeing the lorry floor beneath them. “Like everyone knows I don’t belong. I hate having their eyes on me and knowing they’re better than me.”

Tim prodded Jon with his elbow gently, raising his eyebrows in a comforting manner. “That’s it though, isn’t it? We aren’t fake. We worked our way here. Hell, you’re the boss of an entire department, Jon. We’ve gotten to where we are in the Institute because we deserve to be here. And anyways, everyone at that party next week is gonna be fake. They’re pretending to care about our jobs, and we pretend to care about their money, and they pretend they’re even the ones who write the checks and not some snooty financial advisor in Wales.”

Jon shrugged, trying to keep himself from biting back that he wasn’t enough, didn’t earn this spot, that Sasha deserved it more than he did and was doing nothing to prove to Elias he was up to the monumental task of being the Head Archivist. He didn’t, though, and instead took a steadying breath, nodding to Tim’s comforting words.

“And anyways,” Tim continued, shrugging. “Even if we have to be fake for a night, it’ll be fun. We get to be a part of ‘the queen’s high society,’” he added in a high-pitched, overly fake RP accent, eliciting a chuckle from Jon. “And Rosie said the catering Elias orders is divine. Apparently we should keep an eye out for tiny samosas?”

As if on cue, the cab shuddered to a stop. Jon thanked the driver, paid, and followed Tim out.

The Institute looked different under the pretense of wealth and success. It was still the same building of course, but the floor was clear of the rain mats and the smooth marble floor paved the way to the library, the main sitting room of which had been cleared as a rather respectable grand hall to host a party. Tables lined the cordoned off books, hot plates and silver trays steaming slightly. Bottles of wine lined a bar, behind which a vested individual with slicked-back hair was pouring small glasses and taking orders. A quiet orchestra completed the scene, cello and piano in a delicate duet. Before tonight, Jon couldn’t have imagined this many people in the Institute alone, least of all the library. Not that it’s packed. There’s maybe thirty or so well-dressed individuals milling about, the din of conversation white noise in comparison to the floating of the music.

Tim’s hand is on his back, pressing kindly into his spine. Oh yes, he remembers dimly, and nods, allowing Tim to guide him into the library and hand him a glass of wine. They stand out a little, two beacons of color around what is a pretty drab spectrum of black and grey, save for a few spectacular dresses in the crowd. Jon finds he doesn’t mind it, except that it may lead to unwanted conversation. It’s not his looks he fears being judged on, but that he be found wanting when it came to his capabilities. He was always selectively self-conscious like that, some things utterly meaningless, others inexplicably important.

Jon isn’t a huge fan of wine, but he finds himself clinging to the glass as a lifeline as he and Tim meander through the crowds, largely ignored. The music is intoxicatingly simple; he finds himself caught up in the deep reverberations of the cello as they walk, feeling it deep in his chest. There were, in fact, samosas, as well as small cannoli, and he and Tim piled plates as high as they could without garnering stares.

There weren’t many people Jon recognized; he didn’t even see Elias as he scanned the crowd for faces. Wine in one hand, a plate in the other, he thought maybe the night wouldn’t be too bad.

Jon shivered, the sensation of being stared at prickling the back of his neck. He spun around, trying to appear casual, and spotted Elias at last. He was standing with a large man, broad and wearing a deep blue suit, scruffy beard a mix of tawny and white. Elias crooked his finger, smiling primly. As Jon made his way over to the pair-who he could’ve sworn he hadn’t seen previously, he was intercepted by a short bald man in a plum velour suit, leaning heavily on a cane.

“Ah, Archivist,” he smiled warmly, extending a hand to shake before seeing Jon’s hands were full, and nodding his head instead. “Congratulations on your promotion. Elias has told me he expects great things from you.”

Jon smiled politely, glancing over to see Elias and the other man gone again. Regretfully, he turned his attention back to the man. “It’s a shame about Gertrude, yes, but I’m hoping I can do her proud,” he said in a practiced tone. He glanced over his shoulder. Where was Tim? He was just with him.

“Of course, of course. I was hoping I could have a word?”

“W-with me?”

“Yes, you see, I was rather concerned when I heard Gertrude’s position had been left open. When Elias said you yourself where at the junction to take over, I wanted to meet you for myself. I worry about the Archivists in your institute, so many of you do such monumental work for so little recognition. Do you worry your work to be meaningless? Your name insignificant when it is all said and done?”

(It is this conversation he remembers, months later, when he demands to record Prentiss’ attack. He refuses to be another mystery, a name on a placard to be wondered about.)

“I-ah, yes? No?” What was the right answer here? Jon stammered out a half-assed reply about doing his best, midway through when he felt a hand firmly on his shoulder, where his neck and collarbone met. Glancing to his peripheral, he saw a golden ring, an eye, and was frustratingly grateful to hear the cool tones of Elias Bouchard over his shoulder.

“Now Simon,” he said, voice even, “you aren’t trying to scare my dear Archivist, are you?” He gave the shoulder a squeeze but remained put. “Jon, I believe you’ve heard of Simon Fairchild, a significant donor to our establishment.”

Jon nodded wordlessly, not really listening to the two bureaucrats delve off into some topic or other, craning his neck to look for Tim. The music had picked up, he registered dimly, a orchestral melody led by a violin, sharp and whimsical.

“Jon?” Another squeeze to his neck, and Jon tried not to wince. “Wouldn’t you agree,” Elias asked, voice patient at surface level. “That the best way to move forward is to restructure the Archive?”

Jon nodded, trying to recall the answer he had rehearsed. “Yes, ah—my team and I have worked quite hard at recording the statements a-and organizing them in a way that will last long-term.”

“Ah, what a delight,” Simon—Mr. Fairchild—said warmly. Jon was reminded of the voices adults would use when they spoke to him as a child, when his inane facts about space or etymology had moved from endearing to obnoxious.

The conversation lasted for what felt like days, Jon feeling rather like Mr. Fairchild’s cane: a statement piece, contributing nothing to the conversation but unable to find a smooth exit. Leading questions from Elias led to thankfully rehearsed answers before Simon found his own exit and walked away smoothly, eyes wide and taking the room in.

“I-I really should find Tim,” Jon muttered, glancing around the room anxiously.

“Nonsense. He’ll be back,” Elias said, releasing Jon’s shoulder and taking his elbow in turn, “I would like to introduce you to a few dear friends of mine. I believe Tim is keeping one occupied at present.” Jon sighed inwardly (and maybe outwardly as well) and allowed himself to be led around the room. His wine glass was empty, as was his plate and he found it snatched away by a member of catering. He had nothing to cling to, to keep his hands busy, and was struggling not to pull out his delicately-placed hair pin just so he could fiddle with something.

Jon was taken on a tour of old rich people of England. Names flew past him, conversation buzzed around him, and still Jon felt like nothing more than a well-dressed trophy to be ogled at. Did Gertrude do this every year, he wondered dimly. No wonder she disappeared. He fiddled with the ring on his finger, nodding and smiling at the appropriate times, speaking when needed, and feeling the swirl of the orchestra build up in pressure behind his eyes. The music was beautiful but hard to listen to. Something about it was ugly, hiding a dark secret behind the innocent melodies.

Eventually, the evening was so much of a blur that he couldn’t even begin to fathom how much time had passed. It may have been weeks, may have been merely twenty minutes. Jon glanced down for his watch before realizing he had taken it off at Tim’s flat and never strapped it back on. Pity. It only added to the dreamscape reality he seemed to be participating in.

At last, Elias led him towards the large burly man that was suddenly in view (hadn’t he always been? Jon wasn’t quite sure. The wine must have affected him more than he thought with the nerves) and Jon saw Tim, similarly trapped in conversation as he had been. He smiled apologetically as Jon and Elias approached and the larger man smiled warmly at the newcomers.

“Ah, Archivist. I hope you don’t mind I stole your companion away briefly. I was curious about the nitty-gritty of your Archive. Timothy here was very informative.” Tim winced at the use of his full name and a part of Jon smirked, relating to the sentiment of being called Jonathan or worse, John.

“I’m glad he can answer your questions.” Elias spoke before Jon could open his mouth. “I’m quite proud of the Archive staff. Jon chose well and I am sure the four of them are going to do great things together. Jon, you remember the Lukas family?”

Jon nodded, confused for a second before the man in front of him extended his hand. “Peter Lukas, at your service.” The hand was cold, and a feeling of dismay washed over Jon as he shook it. He couldn’t help the feeling that the shake of that hand was a seal of his fate.

The orchestral music had picked up, a swirl of strings and piano, ascending in pitch until it grated at Jon’s ears. No one else seemed to react to it, however, as the manic notes pulling at something inside Jon’s brain, something he couldn’t explain. It was almost like a migraine, but sharper and deep in his spine and in his ears. Elias let go of Jon’s arm at some point during the conversation with Peter Lukas, a discussion about boats, maybe? Travel? This was the conversation Elias was so keen on Jon being a part of?

As Jon felt that grip relax, the glint of the ring on Elias’ finger seeming to wink at him, Jon took a staggered step backwards. “Mr. Lukas, ah-Peter, it’s been a pleasure. Elias, ex-excuse me.”

Jon turned and dashed out of the library, feet carrying him on instinct through the winding halls and down the stairs of the institute, deep into the Archives. He stopped when he felt his feet echo against the cold, solid lino of the archival storage and bent over, hand on the wall, gasping in shallow, rapid bursts. It was too much, it was too much, he thought he could do this but it was too much and he wasn’t enough for them-

“Woah-boss.” Tim was there. When did Tim get here? Was he speaking out loud? Shit. “Jon, yeah-hey, Jon. I’m here. You’re okay. Take some deep breaths, okay? You’re going to black out if you’re not careful.”

Jon felt his suit jacket being shrugged off of him and the newly allowed freedom of his shoulder helped. He took a deep, sputtering breath, the sweet oxygen flooding his system and sharpening his thoughts.

“The-the music and the talking,” he said under his breath, Tim craning to listen without infringing on his personal space. “Too-too much.”

“The music? Jon, hey, hey, just focus on calming down, okay? That was a dick move of Elias to separate us immediately. I was talking to that Lukas guy for way too long. Not even sure what we talked about. I think he’s just one of those guys.” Jon smirked to himself as he focused on the floor beneath his feet, breathing slowly until his heart rate had resumed a normal rhythm.

“Says you,” he mumbled, eyes closing as he pressed his warm cheek to the cold wall.

“You bastard!” Jon felt a light swat on his shoulder. “I listen to people! I have meaningful conversation; just ask Martin and Sasha and Alexa from Library and Calvin from Artefact Storage. I am practically a professional listener.”

Jon smirked, satisfied with his jab and turned around, now pressing his back to the wall. “God, Tim, I do not want to go back in there.” It was hard to admit out loud, even if the evidence was written all over his face.

“Okay. So, we won’t.”

“What?” the answer was so mind-bogglingly simple, Jon reeled.

“We don’t want to be here. We’ve talked, we’ve eaten. Let’s just leave. I can tell Elias I had an emergency and you had to escort me home, like a true gentleman.”

“Lie to Elias? I feel like that cant end well.” The offer was tempting, Jon hadf to admit.

“I mean, Sasha has keys to my flat. I could ask her to start a fire, if you think that’s sufficient?”

Jon barked out a laugh at that. “Ah, no, lets save a fire for something big. Yes. Let’s-let’s go, Tim. And-er, I suppose I should thank you. For coming tonight. I know its not an ideal way to spend an evening.”

“Are you kidding?” Tim did a twirl, Jon’s own jacket slung over his shoulder. “I look hot. You think I’d pass up an opportunity to dress up like this? You’re dreaming.” He smirked and took Jon’s arm, leading him back up the stairwell. It felt different than Elias’s touch. That had been a cold tug, directional and leashed. This felt…snug, more like a link in a chain than anything else. Comforting, reassuring.

(Luckily, they weren’t laughed out of the Nando’s they popped into late at night. Lemon and herb and spices covered their hands, but they were careful to keep their jackets clean. Jon, when looking back on the evening; remembers this moment, talking and laughing and letting the fresh night air was over them. Elias, Lukas, and Fairchild be damned. He’d deal with that tomorrow.)

#the magnus archives #tma #tma fanfic #fanfic to a tea #jonathan sims #tim stoker #prompt fic #black-tie #elias bouchard #still a dick #peter lukas #simon fairchild #sasha james #me? write everyone BUT martin>#amazing

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fandomlovingfreak · 4 years ago

Text

Incidentally In Love (3/?)

Charlie Weasley/Reader

Word Count:

Rating: Teen and up (Triggers : brief mentions of sex, and pregnancy talk)

MasterList Link I AO3 Link

Summary: Sleeping with Charlie Weasley was easy. He was charming, and handsome, and was quite talented in bed... Finding out you're pregnant with your casual fuck buddies baby was not easy.

Reader's journey through co-parenting, an overbearing Molly Weasley who wants reader to marry her son to give the baby a "real family", and maybe falling a tiny bit in love with her baby daddy.

Notes: Love how I messed up my summary aha. Going back and changing all the other chapters! My bad. Hope you love this chapter though. I just wanted to write something where the reader was in their head about Charlie and Charlie wanting to stay with her. I feel like this would be a legitimate fear.

Enjoy

One thing that hasn't changed since I found out about the pregnancy is sleeping with Charlie. I meant to stop, I really did... but there was something so comforting about having him in my bed. Maybe it was the need for companionship, or maybe he is simply my weakness.

I can hear his steady breathing from his side of the bed as I stare up at the bedroom ceiling. The nights are getting colder now, autumn steadily sneaking into the air with each passing day. The cold weather reminds me that time is advancing. It reminds me to look in the mirror to notice differences. In the right lighting, I can sometimes see (or maybe I'm imagining) a little bump protruding from my abdomen. Possibly I'm trying to convince myself I see something. Charlie's caught me at least a dozen times doing this; I always jump back and pretend to be admiring whatever outfit I have on to avoid the embarrassment of being caught searching for a physical sign of the child. The worst time was when I was in pajamas and had to pretend I was admiring my cloud jammies in my bedroom mirror like some basket-case. If he knows what I'm doing, he doesn't mention it. I appreciate that about Charlie. He tries not to embarrass you in any way he can.

I look over at the man in question sleeping peacefully to my left. His bright red hair is a little longer than when I first met him. So long it just reaches his shoulder blades when he sleeps on his stomach like this. My eyes scan the exposed skin of his broad shoulders and toned back. He's got a large black dragon tattooed on the expanse of the freckled skin. The tattoo's black ink clashes and flows with the abundant white scars across his back from his beloved dragons. The spikey tail of the tattoo seems to flick across his spine ever so slightly. I wonder if it's enchanted to do that or my tired eyes are playing tricks on me in the faint light from the moon. Of course, I've seen the tattoo before, but I haven't exactly had any reason to study this section of his body so privately before.

Charlie never stayed over before we found out about the pregnancy. He'd usually show up at any hour of the day and leave immediately after. Not like I cared. It felt too intimate if that is even possible after you've been so physically close to another person, to have him sleep in my bed before these circumstances. Recently though, I find myself craving that solid presence of another human being. Charlie was all too pleased to fill that presence for me. I don't know how to feel about him staying over almost every night this week or last week. All I know is that I don't want to be alone during the night. Facing the reality of being completely alone in this world has washed over me in tidal waves the weeks after visiting his family. I can't seem to shake off the feeling of loss I've conveniently been ignored for months before interacting with Charlie's family. I realized that I missed being a part of a family after seeing the Weasley family interacting.

Refusing to feel the emotions and grief of losing my entire family for months was unhealthy. And with the reminder of what a family looks like, I suddenly very much want another body around me. I want Charlie as close as possible whenever it's possible because he makes me feel something, even if it's only when he's touching my body. Feeling his hands, his mouth, and his cock is better than feeling the sadness that blossoms in my chest. Blaming hormones is the easy way out of processing my grief, but I want to blame the pregnancy for a moment. For once in the last month, I want something to feel easy.

Alongside the sudden appearance of these emotions, I appreciate the assurance that the baby will have a place in the Weasley family, even if the child's appearance in the world wasn't something planned. Truthfully, I was worried that maybe Charlie's family wouldn't want them. Many families wouldn't even acknowledge a child like ours, especially if, like us, the parents of that child chose to co-parent instead of getting together. To say I'm relieved by the Weasley's acceptance, especially Molly Weasley's, is an understatement. My baby would have received more than enough love from just me, and still will, but there's something different about the love of grandparents, aunts, and uncles. I want the baby to have that.

I continue to watch Charlie's body move with every inhale and exhale. I wonder if he dreams. A lot of the time, I wonder what he thinks about. Does he ever think about the baby? Does he get frightened by this ever so often like I do? That this won't work out, and somehow this elaborate plan, we've made to make the baby's life as normal as possible will fail? That we'll lose contact or something unforeseen will complicate things? Maybe he thinks about how this has completely derailed his life and his plans. There's no way he'd be satisfied working a desk job for the rest of his life, especially since he's tasted the freedom of achieving his dreams in Romania. I'm sure he misses that. Sometimes I'm afraid he'll abandon the baby and me. It's irrational; at least I hope it is irrational to think he might leave. But how could I blame him? What would we do if he decided he wanted to go back to Romania? Would I give up my job to keep him in our child's life? I don't think he'd ask me to leave my life behind, but it would be fair in a sense. Essentially, that's what I'm doing to him. I hope our child is worth it to him.

And no, this isn't exactly the way I thought my life would go, but I am glad in the sense that it's Charlie who I'm doing this with. There's not another man in this world I think I'd want to do this with because I'm not sure any other near-stranger would sit next to me as I lean over the toilet bowl, expelling whatever I had for dinner last night, as he's holding back my hair, or rubbing soothing circles on my middle back. In those moments too damn early in the morning (despite feeling so god awful and hating my body for doing this to me), I know that I'm grateful it's him and not someone else. He's going to be a good dad; that much is clear.

He's a good man. I have to acknowledge that I feel guilt for derailing his life. But, I don't think I could do this without him. Since we found out in the past month, I've grown somewhat attached to Charlie's constant presence in my life. Merlin, I hate to admit that I'm used to the schedule we've created, waking up with him, going to work, eating meals with him. It's all become my normal reality, and I don't know what I would do if he left. The feeling of dependency is foreign to me, and I hate it.

I shake my head, fully turning towards Charlie's sleeping form. His lips are slightly open as he breathes easily. I stare at him and wonder about the baby. I think if it's a boy, I want it to resemble Charlie. Same nose, same strong jawline, same sweet smile.

I smile, reaching out to tuck a strand of red hair behind his ear. Yeah. If they could be just like Charlie, I would like that.

TagList: @hannah220506 , @paigeyisme

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lilyofthestyx · 4 years ago

Text

Fighting for Tomorrow: Chapter Five

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I haven’t bought AOT or a few characters would still be alive/not in mental anguish

Reiner x Fem!Reader, eventual Captain Levi x Fem!Reader, Sasha x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 8.8k

TW: gore/blood/violence/death, adult language/swearing, slight PTSD, reader woke up and chose violence

You can read parts one, two, three, and four just by tapping the lovely numbers!

Stumbling down the street towards the alley, I grip my thigh. As I round the corner into an alley, I slam my back up against the brick and risk a peek. The Abnormal stomps away- not even looking over at me.

What the Hell just happened?

A hiss leaves my mouth as the wound opens up more and weeps blood onto my palm.

Whatever happened doesn’t matter- if I don’t get some medical equipment soon I’ll pass out on the street. My eyes dart to the roof just above me. If I can get up there, I’ll be easier to spot and can get help faster. But it puts me more at risk at getting snatched… again.

But if I stay down here and wait for help, I can bleed out.

Taking a deep breath, I look to the clouds in the sky. If I get out of here, I’m going to watch those clouds with Reiner and the others.

I can hear his voice.

‘When,’ he says gently, firmly. ‘When you get out of here’.

‘What a big lug,’ I tell him mentally, getting to my feet again. ‘Always the motivator, though.’

I can see his head fall back with laughter- the sound of it reverberating around me and wrapping me in its embrace. Strong and something that shakes his whole body from the stomach out. Each laugh like he’s never laughed a day in his life.

‘Just get on the roof already, darling,’ he says. I can feel his always-warm hand wrapped around mine, his fingers aligning with mine on the triggers.

My body shoots up and I release the triggers- allowing myself to fall back to the earth. The collision forces my feet from under me and I fall forward, breathless. Coughing, I roll onto my back. ‘That sucked,’ I tell him.

‘Didn’t look fun,’ I can hear him say as I stare up at the clouds. ‘But when you’re back, I’ll give you a massage.’

I scoff and roll back onto my stomach, tucking my foot under me and pushing me to my feet. ‘I just want to get back.’

‘You will.’

I’m panting now as I hold my thigh. The streets are emptied completely, only debris and bodies scattered on the cobblestone. Titan heads bob over houses- too far away to notice me. My eyes strain even more to hopefully catch a glimpse of any of my comrades.

“Oiii!” Someone yells, much too light-heartedly.

I turn to the voice as two people land on the roof behind me. They’re both tall- one only slightly taller than the other. The man has perfectly-styled hair and presses his mouth into a thin line. The other has long brown hair hastily thrown up into a bun and glasses strapped to their face.

“What’re ya doing down here?” The shorter one of the two squawks before a long drawn-out gasp comes from their mouth. “Did you just fight that Abnormal?!” they ask, hands holding either side of their blushing face.

Blinking slowly, I consider my options. I can’t be honest with them. I’d be locked in a mental institution for the rest of my life if I did. “...kinda,” I wince, gesturing to my leg. “I didn’t fight it as much as it tried to rip me apart.”

The man hurries to me and examines my leg. “...did you make this yourself?” He asks, looking up at me as he gestures to the contraption wrapped around my leg.

I nod. “Just outta some stuff from that store over there,” I mumble, using my blade to gesture to the crumbling building.

Shocks of pain shoot up from my leg as the man prods at my thigh. “Sorry!” He blurts, jerking his hand away from the wound.

The other person hums, eyes flicking behind their glasses as they examine my wound. “Bit of a nasty one there… You’ll bleed out soon… And we can’t have our best piece of evidence go to waste!” They grab my arm and pull me to their side, tucking an arm around my waist. “Hold on tight- we’ll get ya back to the wall and stitch you back up- and then you can tell me all about that Titan!”

Did this nutcase just call me ‘evidence’?

“I’ve heard you’re a bit of a reckless one,” the medic mutters as he wraps my leg with bandages.

I chuckle and hide my blushing face in my shoulder. “How’d ya guess?”

The medic gestures over his shoulder to the town below us. “My boyfriend was one of the ones in that lift in HQ. Told me about you jumping off the lift and charging a Titan head-on without gear.”

“...ah…” I laugh again, feeling my face heat up even more.

“Don’t worry,” the medic chuckles as he puts his tools into a medkit. “He told me how you and some other basically saved their asses, too.”

“At least I’m a reckless nutjob instead of a reckless brat.”

The medic laughs and gets to his feet. “Don’t expect to use that leg any time soon, alright?”

I nod and the medic walks away from me. Sighing, I look up to the clouds.

Gods, I hope they all made it okay. I hope Eren plugged- or plugs- the wall. I hope this all can just… be over. I want it to be over with. One day. Just one day of rest. That’s all I want. I don’t even want to rest. If I can have one day to breathe- I’ll shut my mouth and do whatever’s asked of me for the rest of my short life.

But I guess this will have to do for the time being.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath in.

“__________!”

My eyes shoot back open and my head lolls to the side. Connie, Marco, Jean, and Annie run to me. A smile crosses my face as I wave them over. “Glad t’see you’re alright,” I laugh as they slide to the floor beside me. “Surprised Freckles here hasn’t chided your ears off.” I tease, looking up at one pink-faced Marco.

“Not for lack of trying, eh, Annie?” Connie laughs, elbowing Annie’s arm.

Her lips turn softly into a smile behind her gold curtain of hair. Jean nudges Marco as Marco’s face continues to grow in redness. “She’s not wrong.”

Marco rolls his eyes and gestures down to my leg. “I’m just surprised you haven’t gotten yourself killed.”

The group turns to face him- shock very plainly on our faces. Marco’s ears suddenly grow even more red as he tries to backtrack over his words. “...would ya look at that!” I laugh, “Kid’s got jokes!”

The group chuckles. “So…” Connie says, poking the bandage wrapped around my thigh. “How’d ya get this one?”

“And how are you explaining it to Reiner?” Annie adds, a small smile on her lips.

I groan. “...I’d rather take my chances with another Abnormal.”

“‘Another’?” Marco asks, eyebrows furrowing. “You fought an Abnormal?”

Flashes of that grocery store play in my eyes. The arm reaching in, grabbing my leg and dragging me out into the street. The mouth- the eyes. Red. I can see it clearly now. Red. And glowing.

“Well?” Jean presses, arms crossed over his chest and an eyebrow raised. “Did you?”

It put me down. It listened to me and put me down- and then it walked away.

“I just…,” I stop and shrug. “I got my ass beat by one. Does that count?”

“I can see that,” Connie mutters as he stares at the various wrappings around my body. “What’d it do to you-”

“Nothing I can’t handle,” I interrupt, flicking the back of Connie’s head. “Now, don’t you kids have some orders to fulfill?”

“Yeah,” Marco says, tapping a finger on his gas canister. “We had to fill up. Now that we’re done, we should get back and help with… everything.”

“So nonchalantly stopping to talk to me while everyone’s down there dying was just…” I shrug, “Like passing an old friend in the market?”

They all pale in color in front of me.

“That’s what I thought,” I snap, gesturing towards the town just past the soles of my shoes. “Now get your asses down there.”

“Cadet Braus!”

My whole body jerks as I shoot up, clutching my shirt. Colors and shapes merge together as I frantically try to find the voice.

When did I fall asleep? How long was I even asleep?

“Aye, sir!” I yell, sleep still clouding my vision. Where did the voice come from…? My eyes lazily slide around for the voice as my fist is planted against my chest. No sign of Connie, Marco, Annie, or Jean. Did I dream that? Are they still… Are they still down there?

A soldier- clothed in a Military Police uniform- stands in front of me with a folded piece of paper in his hand. “A message,” he states, handing it to me. “From Squad Leader Hange Zoë.”

The soldier leaves without so much as another word. I look down at the paper, running my fingers over the edges of the folds. Hange Zoë? The scientist?

Slowly, I unwrap the paper. Memories of that day in ODM training flash in my vision. The pair of strangers in the back of the crowd observing us- the taller one, wasn’t that Hange?

Scrambled handwriting is hurried along across the page, like the hand was too eager to get the words out the poor pen couldn’t keep up. Every letter is connected in unsteady lines.

Cadet Braus,

Upon your recovery- partial or otherwise- you are to be interviewed by me on the topic of your engagement with an Abnormal.

-Hange Zoë

PS: we’ll be accompanied by Captain Levi- don’t let him intimidate you :)

The Captain Levi?

Gods, as if my day couldn’t get any worse.

Folding the paper back up, I tuck it into my bra. I’m now to be put through two wonderful events. Go see Reiner first and get a new asshole and then go see Hange Zoë and try to explain to them how I had my entire body slammed against a roof multiple times.

I’m too tired for this. With the amount of blood I’ve lost in the past few hours, I should be chained to a hospital bed for days- which I can only hope to be the case. A pit begins to eat away in my stomach as I stare out at Trost just below me.

I should’ve died.

My fingers brush against the familiar fabric of bandages around my torso.

This… This wound alone should have killed me.

Why… why didn’t it?

And then the roof? My skull should’ve split- my body shouldn’t have been able to move at all, much less end up here. Why did I…?

And then the Titan. Abnormal or not- it should have killed me. I should not be alive. Why did it put me down? Why did it walk away? It was going to eat me and I wouldn’t have been able to do a damn thing about it.

So why didn’t it? Why am I still here?

Why did I get lucky so many times when my comrades are dying for much more insignificant reasons?

I turn my gaze from the hellfire below me to the cloudy heavens above me.

I need to talk to Reiner about this. He’ll understand- he can help.

I hope.

“You need t’get some sleep,” I say quietly, my hand resting against Rei’s face. “You look exhausted.”

“...I am,” he chuckles coldly. The movement causes the prickle of stubble to graze against my palm.

“You also need t’shave,” I tease, “Or are you finally gonna try out that rugged stubble look that I’ve been begging you to try?”

Reiner rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Never.” His hand comes up from his lap and rubs against his jaw in thought. “...I’ll shave later.”

My lips turn downwards into a pout. “Boo… Maybe one day?”

“...nope.”

The room goes quiet. I can see him clutching his thigh and the way his eyes keep drifting to the various instruments surrounding me- the blood bag oozing blood down into my arm, the bag of saline beside it. His hands twitch in his lap again. The soft-green room smells too much like metal. And it’s freezing. Reiner’s eyes finally settle on me. His golden gaze is just that; glimmering and seemingly hard but soft in all reality.

“How is it out there?”

“...it smells like death everywhere you go,” he says quietly, his face sinking deeper into my palm. “There’s so many… so many dead.”

“Have you found him yet?” I ask gently, praying he says… I don’t know. I don’t want him to say yes. I don’t want him to say no. I just… I need to know where he is.

“Marco’s still missing.”

My lip trembles as he speaks. Taking a sharp inhale in, I look to the ceiling and close my eyes. There’s still hope. It’s only been a day- there’s still hope. I can still see him. He’s going to be okay.

Slowly, I nod. “...okay. Okay. Just… keep me updated, please?”

“As soon as we find him, you’ll know.”

I sigh. “I’m glad everyone else is okay,” I mumble, “I’m glad you’re okay.” Reiner’s eyes dart to my body again. Taking his face into both of my hands, I duck into his gaze. “Don’t do that. Don’t you dare.”

“__________, if I had been there-”

“If you had been there…” I trail off, remembering the shape I was in. “...I don’t know what would’ve happened- but it wouldn’t have been much better.”

“You could’ve died.”

“I know. I know but… listen to me- I’m… I’m not dead. I’m here. I’m alive. I… I don’t know how but I am, okay?,”

“So you can stop gripping your knees to stop yourself from touching me- I’m not glass.”

Reiner’s hands come up and wrap around my wrists gently. “__________… I need to tell you something… if anything were to happen to you and you didn’t know- I don’t know…”

Softly, I press my lips to his and rest my forehead against his. “You can tell me anything... and when you’re done… I have something to tell you, too.” I chuckle lightly, “And I need you to keep an open mind about it, alright?”

Reiner’s eyebrows furrow, “...okay… but only if you do the same for me.”

A smile crosses my lips as I pull away, letting my hands trail down his face, his neck, his chest before resting on the bed. His hand follows after mine, wrapping it over mine. “I can do that,” I mumble. My eyes flick up to his, “As long as you aren’t gonna confess something like ‘I’m your classmate that stalked you for years and then blackmailed you into marriage’.”

“Damn,” Reiner mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

I scoff and punch his shoulder, “Shuddup ‘nd tell me.”

Reiner’s smile quickly fades- breaking down into something crooked and broken before disappearing completely. Something in the depths of my gut tells me whatever it is isn’t good. I brace myself as Reiner opens his mouth to speak.

“Cadet Braus?”

My eyes tear away from Reiner’s face to the group that walks into my hospital room. The two Scouts from the rooftop are in the doorway- accompanied with a sharply-dressed, shorter man with no expression. The way he carries himself, the way he looks up and down the walls in disdain- his arms crossed and hands tucked under his biceps- without a doubt, he’s Captain Levi.

And he’s… surprisingly underwhelming. Even in memories, he was always tall. Tall and broad-shouldered and with a commanding aura. Maybe I’m thinking of Commander Erwin. Or Reiner when he’s tired of mine and the others’ shit.

“Yes, sir.” I state, placing my fist over my heart.

Reiner gets off his seat and goes into a salute, only to be eyed up and down by Captain Levi.

“Who’s the extra brat?” He mutters, arching an eyebrow.

Something flares up in my stomach as Captain Levi continues eyeing Reiner like he was something he stepped in. Fists clutching my blanket, I breathe in slowly. It’s just intimidation. It’s always just intimidation. It’s fine.

“Cadet Reiner Braun, sir,” Reiner says firmly, his chest slightly puffed and shoulders taut. He’s nervous. He always goes rigid when he’s nervous.

“Relation?” Captain Levi asks, eyes drifting between the two of us.

“We’re uh…” Reiner trails off, looking back over his shoulder at me. “Romantically… involved.”

Hange laughs, grabbing my attention from the encounter between Captain Levi and Reiner. They tug a chair that leaned against the wall. They sit down on it and scoot it closer to my bed, looking at me with unadulterated glee.

...I can see where the ‘Mad Scientist’ jokes came from.

“...are you going to stay?” The man from the roof asks Reiner.

Reiner looks back at me, worry very obviously etched into his face. His jaw clenches before his mouth opens. I cut him off. “You’ve been here with me for way too long… Go get something to eat. Maybe go take a nap. I’ll be okay.”

Reiner’s mouth opens again. I beat him to the punch again. “That’s an order, Cadet Braun.” He caves without another word. Slipping past the man in the doorway, Reiner offers one last smile- before disappearing down the hallway.

My attention is quickly grabbed by Squad Leader Hange. They squeal, grasping my arm and running their fingers along the length of the plastic tube pumping blood into me. “How fascinating!” They hum with a smile on their face. “Moblit- gimme my notepad.”

The man from the doorway dashes forward into action, pulling a beaten notepad from thin air. Captain Levi silently sits in a chair in the corner of the room. I notice he doesn’t lean up against the wall- he doesn’t even touch the wall, actually. He sits just far enough away from the wall that he doesn’t touch it but not far away enough that he’s in the center of the room.

What a strange man.

“Eh?” Hange looks up at me, pushing their glasses further up their face. Their eyes flick between me and Captain Levi before a laugh passes their lips. “Oh, don’t mind Shortie over there. He’s only here to make sure I don’t… overwhelm you.” Their eyes turn back down to their notepad as they hurriedly scribble something down. “I’ve been known to… get carried away…,”

“Moblit!” They suddenly squawk- sending the already-frazzled man into a hurried pace to the Squad Leader’s side. “Hand me Cadet Braus’ file.” Moblit nods once and lifts his coat to reveal a… rather thick file with various papers jutting out.

Is that… is that really only about me? I haven’t gotten into that much trouble, have I?

Hange hums to themself as they open the file and scan through the pages before flipping to another page. Their eyes meet mine as I stare worriedly down at the file. “Oh, don’t worry!” They laugh, “I take the liberty of delving into my subjects- interviewees! Interviewees. My... interviewees’ backgrounds.”

Slowly, I nod. This person is obviously a tiny bit unhinged. But there’s something about them that sparks some morbid interest in me. Besides- aren’t all Scouts a bit unhinged?

Hange sighs happily and plucks a paper out from the file. “I’ve another interview so I’m a tad pressed for time- with your boss’ son, actually! So we’ll just get into it, yeah?” They ask with a smile.

“You’re seeing Eren?” I ask, excitement bubbling in my throat. “He’s alive? He’s okay?” Hange goes silent, their mouth pressing into a thin line. “He stands trial today,” Captain Levi answers from his corner- all flat and emotionless. “To see what’s going to be done about him.”

‘What’s going to be done about him’...?

They wouldn’t… kill Eren, would they?

He sealed the wall- he saved Trost, why would they?

“Shall we begin?” Hange asks, peering at me over their glasses. I nod silently and Hange hums. Adjusting their glasses, they scan the paper. “You’re __________ Braus of the 104th Cadet Corps… age twenty-one years… Sister, Sasha Braus...,” Hange stops and looks up at me. “You were living in Shiganshina when it fell?”

“Yes.”

“...but you previously lived in Wall Rose? Until you were…,” Hange stops, flipping through the papers before settling on one. “Fifteen?”

“Yes.”

Hange nods and marks something down on their notebook. “...and you’re romantically involved with Cadet Reiner Braun,” they ask, not taking their eyes off the paper.

“Yes.”

“...Squad Leader of Squad Thirty-Two with members… Floch Forster, Franz Kefka, Hanna Diamant, and Gordon Bov.”

“...just Floch and Gordon now.” I answer quietly.

Hange’s eyes flick up over the top of the file. Their voice is softer now, “Oh… I’ll… I’ll be sure to note that.” They start to write something down- much less hurried and with more care. I take a slow breath in, forcing the memories of Hanna and Franz back down into my gut instead of at the back of my throat.

“Um… what was I…? Ah, yes,” Hange clears their throat and leans forward. “The good part,” they whisper, raising their eyebrows with a small smile. “What happened that caused you to be separated from your squad? Your commanding officers had told me that you were reassigned to a new squad with new members- your sister being one of them.”

“We had just led a ten-meter towards the wall,” I start, remembering the scene. “We were heading back out towards the middle of town- someone in our squad had seen a Titan roaming around near the shopping district.”

I sigh and shake my head, “Nobody knew it was an Abnormal… We all just thought it was a fifteen-meter.” My eyes widen as I see it pounce forward- its jaws snapping shut and crushing our Squad Leader. “...I remember seeing it jump and decapitate our Squad Leader… his head… his head landed at my feet,”

“...I gave the order to retreat to the wall almost immediately. It was just us five Cadets- we couldn’t have taken an Abnormal on by ourselves. As we were making our way to the wall, the Abnormal- it waited until I shot my ODM wires out and grabbed them… and it didn’t even pull me into its mouth,” I mumble, eyebrows furrowing. “It just… It just grabbed my wires and used them to slam against a rooftop. Over. And over. And over again.” My fingers subconsciously rub the bandages around my thigh as my eyes turn from Hange. I focus on the bedsheets covering my wounds, remembering each detail.

“When it finally let me go, I rolled off the roof, shot myself into a window and took cover in a store… I made that brace and wrapped myself with whatever I could when…” I can hear the crackling of wood and shattering of stone and glass as the hand reaches towards me.

“When what?” Hange asks, excitement plainly in their voice. The grip on their pen makes it tremble in their fist.

“...it came back,” I mumble, “It dragged me out into the street and then it-” My eyebrows unfurrow, face dropping as I remember. It lifted me up, opened its mouth and when I screamed at it- it just… put me down. Walked away. And its eyes. Its eyes were glowing.

“It… it put me down.”

Hange’s head snaps up from their notepad. “It what?”

“It… put me down?” I laugh breathlessly, running a hand through my hair. “I dunno either; I just remember it was opening its mouth and then it just… put me down and left.”

Hange can barely hold still as they hurriedly scribble down my words onto their paper. “And what then? Did it even look at you after? Or did you immediately go to the rooftop where you were found? Oh, what am I saying- of course you went to the rooftop. Did you get a look into its mouth? Or! Did you see its eyes? Any of its facial features? Anything at all worth noting?!”

“Oi, oi, oi, oi,” Captain Levi speaks up from the corner of the room. “Four-eyes, calm down. You’ll scare the shit outta this brat if you keep it up.”

Hange takes a deep breath in and steadies their hands. “Shortie’s right,” they mutter, adjusting their glasses. “I got carried away… can you tell me anything about the Abnormal?”

Red eyes- they glowed only after I started yelling at it. They glowed and it put me down. It. Put. Me. Down.

No, no. I just imagined it.

“Just that its eyes were brown.”

I was picked up and put back down but its eyes were normal.

“And that its breath smelled like shit.”

Nothing else happened.

“I was pretty out of it.”

Nothing.

“I had lost a lot of blood when you found me.”

Else.

“I’m just glad you did.”

Happened.

“__________, please,” Sasha pleads as I stumble down the hallway.

Tugging my new Cadets jacket tighter over my shoulders, I keep moving forward. “I’m not taking up a hospital room when others need it more,” I mutter, scanning each doorway plaque as we walk down the hall. “Besides, if I was going to stay in that sterile nightmare any longer, I was gonna attack someone.”

“You’re still healing, the doctor hasn’t-!” “I’m perfectly capable of diagnosing myself,” I laugh quietly, “Doctor Yaeger taught me well.” Sasha groans behind me. “Oh- quit your whining. You act like you’ve never acted like this.”

“I haven’t!”

“Lies- the winter before you turned six, you got sick with a cold. Had to have Mom basically drug you so Dad and I could go hunting.”

“I wasn’t even six!”

My eyes catch the plaque I had been looking for. “Shuddup, we’re here,” I mutter, grabbing the handle of the door and pushing it open slightly. “You comin’ with?”

Sasha sighs and shakes her head. “I’ve got… I’ve got body duty.”

I let go of the door handle and take her into my arms, squeezing her slightly. She returns the hug with a shuddering sigh. “...we can talk about it after you get back, okay?” I suggest softly, running my fingers up her back. “And when we’re all free, we can go sneak down to our lake and go for a swim- alright?”

Sasha pulls away and nods. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye, love.”

Sasha heads back down the hall before calling over her shoulder, “Don’t pop anymore stitches!” and disappearing out the door.

What a brat.

I turn back to the door and knock gently. “It’s __________, Eren,” I call softly. “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

Pushing the door open, I step in and immediately gasp. Eren’s bloodied and bruised- covered in gashes and cuts. “What the Hell did they-” I stop, noticing the other presences in the room. Captain Levi stands against the wall opposite Eren, arms crossed over his chest. He eyes me up and down coolly before returning his gaze to Eren.

I immediately go into a salute, slamming my fist against my chest. “I- I’m sorry, Captain- I didn’t-”

He waves me off without a word. His eyes are trained on Eren- the steel grey hard and immovable from Eren’s form across the room. There is something… ancient in the Captain’s eyes. Like a primordial guardian. Something that has seen ages past- and awaits for the next twist.

Something twitches deep in my stomach.

Why am I staring so intensely at this man- why am I so intrigued with this man?

I tear my eyes away from the deceptively youthful face before me. They instead settle on Eren, who huddles against the wall with his legs pressed to his chest. Blood is pouring from his nose- which sits jaggedly on his face. There’s various bruises and cuts that slice through his skin. Purple and blue, this poor kid...

Rushing over, I start to poke and prod his face. “What the hell happened to you?” I hiss, forcing one of his eyes to open as I examine the damage to his actual eye. Eren is silent, only mildly twitching in pain away from my fingers.

I growl. I didn’t bring my medical bag. Why would I have?! It was a hearing- not a goddamn boxing match.

“Who did this to you?” I ask firmly, staring deep into Eren’s eyes. Eren shakes his head. Sighing, my eyebrows furrow as I look at his broken nose. “I bet it was those Military Police jackasses, wasn’t it?”

“__________…”

I scoff, “It was, wasn’t it? Those sick assholes- thinking they can shit on us because they deemed us ‘less worthy’... makes me sick-”

“__________-” Eren hisses.

I shake my head, allowing the spew of words to slice past my lips. “Which one’a them was it? You point them out next time and I’ll swing, I swear. Cut for cut, hit for hit- they’ll get it back-”

“__________!” Eren snaps, eyes locked onto me.

“What?” I snap back, eyebrows furrowing even more as I stare up at him. Eren’s eyes widen and then narrow back to their original shape before he glances across the room. I squint in thought before turning around.

Captain Levi is still reclined against the wall- portraying a false sense of relaxation. His eyes are still fixated on Eren but… from this angle I can see the way the hardness in his eyes blends with determined ferocity. And an absolute lack of remorse.

I turn back to Eren, fists clutching the leather straps around my thighs. “...did he do this to you…?” I ask quietly- not even a whisper.

“It was for my own good-”

With that, I’m standing back up and whirling around to face Captain Levi. He’s impassively staring up at me as I lunge forward- fist tightened and cocked back. Eren’s off his seat and grabbing at my arm, “__________! Calm down, would ya?!”

A growl bubbles up from my throat as I let my fist fly forward. Eren yells my name again, grabbing my forearm and pulling it back. I struggle against him for a moment- chest heaving with breath as I stare unblinkingly at Captain Levi. Strands of hair fall onto my face, now free from the messy updo I had it in as I walked out of the hospital.

The door swings open.

The three of us turn towards the noise. Hange is standing in the doorway, medical supplies in their hands. Their eyes dart from each person in the room before an awkward smile crosses their face. They hold the medical supplies up, “...I’m back?”

Commander Erwin stands back up, walking to my side. I bristle as he nears me- having allowed one of his highest-ranking officers to beat the living shit outta my kid doesn’t exactly sit right with me. My eyes are locked on said officer as he pushes himself off the wall and plops down beside Eren. Something churns in my stomach as I watch Eren’s eyes light up.

He had worshipped Commander Erwin and Captain Levi. Would go on and on about them- even as a kid living in Shiganshina. Even I had come to appreciate their efforts for the advancement of humanity. But now-

“I take it you’re Cadet Braus,” Commander Erwin comments from beside me.

“Yes sir,” I say curtly, not taking my eyes off of Captain Levi and Eren as the two talk quietly.

Commander Erwin chuckles, “Hange mentioned your past with him.” He gestures to Eren with his hand. I note the various patches and slices of lighter, tougher skin on the back of his hand.

Even the Commander himself has not gone unscathed when it comes to Titans.

“I worked under his father- his mother was like one to me in a time where I needed a mother to guide me,” I explain quietly, “...I spent years looking after him. Him and a few others.”

Commander Erwin nods solemnly beside me. “...I admire your ferocity.”

My eyebrows furrow and I finally tear my eyes off Captain Levi. Almost attacking a senior officer isn’t something I would think gets rewarded in the Scouts. “Sir?”

“Not everyone would be so willing to charge Humanity’s Strongest Soldier,” he explains, blue eyes staring down at me with slight amusement. “It speaks for your character, Cadet.”

A sudden blush rises in my cheeks at his words. Admiration? By Commander Erwin himself? I swallow quickly and slam my fist over my heart. “Thank you, sir.”

Hange walks up to us, smiling widely. “I just ran out of supplies for Eren and thought I’d take you along to help me carry some things,” they suggest, grabbing my arm and tugging me out of my salute. “You don’t mind, do you Erwin?” Erwin shakes his head, “Cadet Braus and I had just finished talking.” Hange lets out an ecstatic squeal and tugs me outside. I turn back to look at Eren, only to note the Commander’s eyes still locked on me as Hange pulls me out of the doorway.

The door clicks shut behind us. Hange lets out a long sigh and runs a hand down their face. “Whew!” They exclaim as they lead us down the hallway. “Heard ya almost attacked Shortie,” they giggle and sigh. “I’d love to see that fight.”

I scoff a bit, “I’d end up dead- that’s for sure.”

Hange’s head snaps towards me. My eyes widen as I realise I spoke out of turn. Feeling the heat in my face, I open my mouth to speak- but instead get cut off by their raucous laughter. They clutch their sides and wipe a tear that streams down their soft skin. “Finally!,” they yell triumphantly, “A Cadet with a sense of humor.” They sigh happily and continue leading us down the hallway. “It’s so much like talking to scared cats sometimes... Boring answers from boring Cadets.”

A warm feeling starts to seep under my skin. Pride. Pride and joy. I was becoming close to a Scout- a veteran. Smiling, I puff out my chest slightly. “I’m glad to be of service.”

We round the corner. Hange continues their rambling- somehow enrapturing me with their tales of Titan experiments and expeditions outside the walls. My eyes remain focused on them as we continue down the hallway. They’re so animated, so passionate. It’s truly a breath of fresh air. I was honestly so, so, so goddamned tired of being surrounded by straight-laced soldiers.

Minus Jean, Marco, Connie, and Sasha. Soldiers, yes. Straight-laced, no.

My lips quirk upwards as I remember their collective habit of running around in the woods at night, giggling like little kids. Marco even would go- as serious he is at times. He’d be more hesitant, more quiet but eventually he’d warm up to the idea. ‘I’m already out here,’ he would say, ‘Might as well make it so the punishment’s worth it.’

I miss that kid.

“Oh?” Hange asks, turning to face me. “Did I bore you?”

I shake my head and laugh, “I don’t think that’s possible, Squad Leader.”

Hange’s oak-colored eyes narrow as they scan me. Not in suspicion. Concern. Finally, they nod to themself and continue discussing the possibility of experimenting on two new Titans their squad had found on their last expedition. I’m clinging to their words, their plans. As they glance over at me from time to time, it becomes obvious they’re making sure they haven’t lost me to boredom or indifference.

It’s plainly obvious there’s not many interested (or willing) listeners in their acquaintance.

“Hange!” Someone behind us yells, boot-heavy footsteps clunking down the hallway. “Squad Leader Hange!”

Hange stops their rambling and turns, pushing their glasses up their nose. “Eh? What is it, Eld?”

Eld?

I spin around, smile widening at the sight. Eld stops just in front of us. “Hange, Captain Levi asked me to find you.”

“What is it Shortie wants?”

“Eren’s…” Eld trails off, his eyes flicking over to me. His face visibly turns pink as Hange’s eyes narrow- shifting between Eld and I. “Eren’s Titan… T-Titan powers… They’re… uhm…”

I arch an eyebrow, smile turning into an amused smirk as I watch him keep himself together. How he managed to become some big-shot Titan slayer handpicked by Captain Jackass is beyond me. He’s always been some skittish pup with his tail tucked between his legs. To see him in any other light is… Unnatural.

Eld notices my smirk and turns even more pink. “They’re healing him!” Eld finally blurts, shoulders and back rigid.

“Oh?” Hange taps their chin with their finger in thought. They mutter to themselves under their breath before turning back to us. “Take us back, then! If you can find your way, of course.” They smirk mischievously, eliciting a stifled laugh from myself.

Eld nods once, turning on his heel to lead us back down the hallway. I can still see the blush reaching his ears. As we walk through the winding hallways, Hange leans down and whispers in my ear. “I had no idea where the medical supplies were,” they admit with a small giggle, “It was simply an excuse to get you out of that room.”

“I appreciate it,” I sigh, remembering I’ll have to be in the same room as Captain Jackass again.

“So…,” they hum, arching an eyebrow, “What’s the deal between you and Ponytail?”

‘Ponytail’. I’ll have to remember that one. “...he helped me out a couple years after Shiganshina fell,” I mumble with a small smile, “It had been a rough time and he… Eld gave me a place to sleep, helped me get into the Cadets program.”

I had prayed he would be alive.

I can only hope my prayers are enough for Marco.

“Has he always been this…?” Hange trails off, gesturing vaguely to the man just a few steps ahead of us.

I nod, “He’s always been flustered.” Hange’s eyebrows furrow as they ‘hmph’ in thought. I turn to look at them. “...is he not…?” Hange shakes their head. “Not normally…”

…?

We come back to the room and I take a deep breath. Hopefully, Captain Jackass has left. As I take a step into the room, something at the pit of my stomach tells me otherwise. Commander Erwin is standing beside a wall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are on Eren- and Captain Levi, who sits beside Eren. Arm slung over the back of the chair, Captain Levi looks over his shoulder at us.

“About time.”

My fists tighten as I will myself to not attack Humanity’s Favorite Jackass. A deep breath is taken once more as I walk to stand at the window. I cross my arms over my chest and stare daggers at the group as Hange excitedly pulls something from their pocket. Eld stands beside me, still blushing.

Something strange creeps under my skin.

Is he really only like this around me?

How could I not have noticed?

We watch as Eren opens his mouth, allowing Hange to peek inside. Hange’s eyebrows furrow as they look. They reach out and grab Eren’s chin and turn it downwards to get a better look. In buzzing excitement, they tug a notebook out of their coat and frantically scribble down something. My eyes drift from their work to Captain Levi- who’s already glaring at me.

My eyes narrow in response. Only slightly, not enough to be classified as insubordination. But enough. He turns away, back towards Hange.

Gods, if I didn’t have to worry about insubordination, I’d have already swung.

It was late. Way late. Too late, even for me. ‘Night owl’ was a badge I wore with pride but tonight? Tonight all I wanted was sleep. Deep sleep, dreamless sleep. Sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep, sleep. Those nights in the hospital- plagued with nightmares of Hanna, of Franz, of the Red-Eyed Titan. Cold and cruel and filled with the pained moaning of my comrades; both in sleep and in wake. I didn’t get much sleep there.

All I wanted was to curl up in my bed with my favorite blanket and my favorite brawny blond bastard.

I stumble down the hallways, passing by dimly-lit rooms and muffled snores. My eyes are lead-heavy and blinking is an ungodly chore. My footsteps are shuffled as they echo down the hall. I’m too exhausted to pick them up completely with each step.

All I want is sleep.

Finally, finally, finally, I come to my door. I can hear Sasha’s snoring from the other side. A warm feeling smooths itself over my skin and deep into my chest. Home. Wherever she is- it’s home. Limp, my hand lands on the doorknob and I lean into the door to open it. It squeaks open slightly and casts a ray of light onto the bunk bed across the room. Mikasa’s mouth hangs slightly open- her black hair fanned out over her pillow.

A small smile crosses my lips. I’m glad she didn’t wait up for me. She needs rest.

Something clatters behind me.

I turn around. My head swivels as the exhaustion fades away. It’s replaced with that buzz again. Adrenaline. Eyes darting down the empty hallway, they settle on a slightly open door. Voices echo down towards me- too distorted from the walls to be heard properly. Someone passes by the doorway. Blond hair and golden eyes as they shut the door again.

Reiner.

I had hoped he had gone to bed, too, but…

I sigh and run a hand through my hair. “Gods,” I mutter, “I am going to rip him a new asshole.”

With another huff, I walk down the hall and grip the handle- only for the door to crack open on its own. Bertholdt and Annie are in there, arms crossed and eyes hard. What are they all doing up? It’s nearly morning and by the bags and circles under their eyes, they haven’t slept yet. Weren’t they all out on city cleanup today? They should be-

“You can’t tell her,” Bertholdt hisses, eyes widening in disbelief. “You want to put her in that position?”

“I know her- she’d… she’d understand!” Reiner shoots back. He’s on the other side of the door- I can’t see him but I can hear him perfectly. “__________’s good like that.”

“You really think she’d understand?” Annie asks, an eyebrow arched as she tucks a piece of hair back. “Are you absolutely sure?”

Reiner sighs. I can picture him running a hand down his face- his eyes pinched closed. “...I can’t keep... lying to her.”

Lying…?

“You can’t just… tell her!” Bertholdt’s voice raises before his eyes dart to the door. I tuck back into the shadows in response and pray he didn’t see me. His eyes turn back to the inside of the room. “...how do you know she’ll react the way you think?”

My brain feels like it’s being pulled fourteen different ways- up and down and backwards and forwards and upside-down and inside-out and-

What are they talking about? What has Reiner been lying to me about? Why are they all talking about it like this? How bad is it?

I shake my head. No, no, no, no. Reiner’s my… He’s my other half. Fight and flow- that’s what we are. He… he wouldn’t lie to me if it wasn’t necessary… Right? He’s just… keeping me safe Just like he always does. He keeps me safe…?

“Look,” Annie says, eyes gliding to Reiner from behind her bangs. “If you do tell her, make sure you know what her response is gonna be, got it?”

I can hear Reiner sigh again. Much heavier, much more broken. “...fine.” A long pause filled only with small yawns from Annie and Bertholdt. “I’ll wait.”

Footsteps start heading for the door. I should stay- I should talk to him, talk to them. If there’s any time for this to be a reasonable conversation, it’s now.

But I panic. I scurry back down the hallway and spin into our room- closing the door behind me. I press my ear against the floor, watching the shadows slink past the door. Swallowing thickly, I watch as one shadow stops in front of my door.

It gets closer.

I get up and grip my clothes. I’m still in my uniform-

The doorknob starts to turn.

Fisting the fabric, I lift it over my head as the door swings open.

“Woah-” Reiner’s voice comes from behind me. “I thought you were still in the hospital?”

I swallow my fear and turn to face him. “I… signed myself out.” Reiner’s eyebrows start to furrow- I cut him off before he can tell me off for anything. “Lucky you’re you,” I laugh quietly, “I would’a punched your lights out if you weren’t.”

“I sure am lucky,” he chuckles, letting his eyes run up and down my body. His features relax and become more and more enraptured with me.

I shudder.

Not in pleasure.

I have never shuddered like that with him before. And Reiner notices. “...is something wrong?” he asks gently, eyes softening.

Get the words out. Just say them. Let them be said.

“...I thought you were already asleep,” I mumble, “Why are you still up?”

Reiner shakes his head and smiles softly. “Had a talk with Annie and Bertholdt about today.”

“...are you okay?” I ask gently, staring up at him in the darkness. “Do you want to talk to me about it?”

Reiner shakes his head again and wraps his arms around my back, tugging me into his chest. “Not yet.”

As I stand there, basking in his warmth, the thoughts overflow within me.

Maybe it was just a bad day.

Maybe he’s having another one of his… days.

Maybe he’s lying about his mental state for my sake.

Maybe he’s keeping me safe.

Maybe he had to make a tough call in the field.

Maybe he did something that got someone hurt.

Maybe he can’t forgive himself for it.

Maybe he’s just scared.

“You can tell me anything,” I whisper, “Whenever you want to talk, love, I’ll be here.”

My grip on him tightens. My anchor, my rock, my foundation. I cling to him like he’s my tether to sanity. And it’s true. Sasha, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean, Connie, Marco- I am their anchor. Their rock. Their foundation.

But who is to be mine except him?

“I’ll always be right here.”

“Cadet Braus!”

Sasha and I straighten up, going into a tight salute. The officer eyes us both- his already-narrow eyes narrowing further as he takes in our appearances. “...Cadet __________ Braus?”

“That’s me, sir.” I say, tightening up my back even more.

He seems to smirk to himself, a huffing laugh passing his lips. “Squad Leader Hange has requested you join the experiments scheduled for later this evening.”

“It would be my pleasure, sir.”

The officer nods once and walks away, grumbling to himself as he stares at the clipboard in his grubby hand. Sasha and I relax and turn back down to our food. “So…” she mumbles, taking a bite of food and staring up at me through her lashes. “You tell Reiner you almost killed Captain Levi yesterday?”

I scoff, poking the remnants of congealed porridge. “No. Why should I?” My eyes turn from the globs of oats to Reiner- who sits with Annie and Bertholdt with his head in his hands. “...he’s going through enough without me piling more shit on him.”

Sasha sighs, pushing her bowl away. My ears perk up and I turn to face her. Whatever’s bothering her must be important. It’s not like her to just push food away. “What is it?” I ask softly.

“...Jean, Reiner, Annie, Bertholdt, and I have clean-up duty today.”

“Again? You had it yesterday- why aren’t they-” I stop. I know exactly why they aren’t letting them rest. This- the hurry to do away with the bodies- it’s to prevent a pandemic. A ‘secondary disaster’ as I remember. The amount of sickness festering within the fallen bodies of our comrades- it’d wipe the remaining soldiers and civilians out faster than any Titan. And we couldn’t fight it with blades and ODM gear.

All our resources as a society are focused on military strength. If we can’t fight it with our cannons and blades, there’s little chance we can fight it at all.

I sigh and grab her hand, running my thumb along her knuckles. “We can talk about it tonight,” I whisper, “I know I said that last night but… it was a long day for us all.”

Sasha nods and a faint smile plays her lips. “...sounds good.”

“I’ll even see if I can sneak something out from the cafeteria,” I tease, smiling.

Sasha’s eyes brighten and her smile widens. “Sounds great!”

“__________!”

I don’t even have time to completely turn around as Hange charges straight for me. “Aren’t they beautiful?!” They cry, wrapping an arm over my shoulders and spinning me to face the two Titans. They’re chained to the floor- nails and spikes driven into their hands, legs, and feet to prevent them from moving. I can, however, see Hange’s persuasion in action. The chains wrapped around their necks, while still tight, are loose enough to allow for some movement.

“They’re… quite something,” I mumble, uneasiness settling at the pit of my stomach. I knew they were Titans, real Titans, but it’s just… strange. Seeing them so chained up and docile. The way their glazed eyes stare up towards the sky or the way their digits twitch under the steel of the nails or even the way their wounds give off steam- it’s so underwhelmingly calm when it comes to Titans. I’m only used to fast-paced training and battle, not so much the cerebral calm that Hange seems to specialise in.

“Here! I have to introduce you!” Hange lets out an excited squeal and tugs me closer to the blond Titan on the left. “This! Is Sawney! Say ‘hi’, Sawney!” Sawney does nothing, simply blinks slowly as it looks down at us. Tutting their tongue, Hange shrugs. “Sawney’s a bit shy. Not good at expression, ya know. But Beane!”

Hange tugs me to the other Titan. “Beane here is much more expressive! Say ‘hello’, Beane!” Beane- a brunet Titan with dark brown eyes- is chained lying down. Its eyes slowly glide to look at us before a long exhale passes its lips. A low groan echoes around the sectioned-off area. Hange jumps up excitedly before gripping my shoulders again. “He likes you!”

Moblit runs up behind us, “Squad Leader! You’re too close!”

“Tch,” Hange rolls their eyes, “__________ ‘nd I are fine! Beane even said hello to her!”

Moblit runs a hand down his face, “Please, take a few steps back. If you’re too close-”

“No great steps are ever made without risk,” Hange cuts in. “But fine. Seeing as Cadet Braus is with me.”

The three of us walk away from the Titans. Peeking over my shoulder, I watch as the Titans watch us. Glazed eyes- dead eyes- but they just… watch. Emptily. Soullessly.

I remember red eyes.

“Squad Leader Hange?” I ask quietly as we turn to face the Titans again.

“Always with the formalities,” Hange hums, the touch of a joke playing their tongue. “Just call me Hange.”

“Hange… have you… ever encountered a Titan with… abnormal eye colors?”

“Eh?” Hange turns to face me, “No… I don’t think I have. Why? Did you see something?!”

I swallow and fake a smile, “No, no… I just… I noticed the Titans always have eye colors like ours. Their basic anatomy is like ours, down to the most minute detail- eye color included! I just wondered if maybe…”

“Maybe what?”

My eyes glide over to them. Their eyes are glistening with excitement and their whole body seems to tremble with adrenaline. “...maybe Titans have some sort of… biological connection… with humans?”

Hange lets out a triumphant scream and takes me into a tight hug. Jumping up and down, Hange continues to yell. “I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! An intellectual! A genius! A visionary hiding among the ranks of Cadets!” They sigh happily, panting as they stop jumping. “You’re joining the Scouts, yeah? You’ll be within reach?”

“Yes, Hange,” I smile awkwardly. “I’ve wanted to join since I was-”

Another scream. “And a dedicated Cadet! ...the Choosing ceremony! You’ll be choosing…” They trail off, eyes pinched closed as they mumble to themself in an attempt to remember when the ceremony is.

“I think it’s next week-”

“Perfect! Next week, you and Eren will be within reach at all times!” Hange continues rambling to themself about all the possibilities now in store.

My eyes turn from them to the Titans. If someone as invested and experienced in Titans as Hange hasn’t seen a Titan with red eyes before then…

Why did I?

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klarolijahs · 4 years ago

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So I saw you were open for requests. How about something terribly angsty for Kanthony? Like maybe kate couldn't have kids, and Anthony takes a mistress or something?

You really like angst don't you?

Okay, so this is heavily borrowed by a fic I wrote for Klaroline ages ago - and the prompt kind of fits. This is extreeeeeeeeeeemely OOC for Anthony, but here goes. Don't kill me. I promise I make Anthony suffer!

TW - Character death, and cheating.

______________________________________________________

The first girl was stillborn. Nothing to worry about, the midwife had said, she was young, she would bear many children.

The second girl was born barely a year later, with a head full of auburn curls and brown eyes.

They called Anthony stern and severe; she knew him to be rough, at the very start of their forced courtship he hadn’t been a gentleman, and had laid out the duties and expectations of their marriage in crisp, clear words. But when he looked down at his daughter, a simple smile on his face, she knew he wasn't as cruel as they made him out to be. Her husband was a complicated man.

The third daughter was born three months early, and didn't survive the night.

The fourth daughter was born eleven months later, her hair curlier and as dark as Kate with early signs of her father's dimples. Anthony was content and smiled in resignation.

The fifth daughter was born a year later. Anthony didn't hold her until she was 4 months old.

Then, he stopped coming to her bedchambers, stopped touching her, and stopped seeing her altogether. Without any warning, she was shifted to a smaller bedchamber as far away from Anthony' as possible, and informed by his man of business that since she could not bear her son any male heirs, her services would no longer be needed. And that he would find someone else to bear him a son.

Their marriage had been an arranged one, with the intent to provide his title an heir and his name a Viscountess, but with time she had come to love Anthony, and come to believe that he reciprocated her feelings. Which fueled her determination to speak to him before he took drastic steps.

"You could say no," she asked him, refusing to cry or expose her vulnerability as she sat on his bed. It had taken her a full week to manage to get an audience with her own husband.

"I want a son, Kate," he replied sternly, "Is that so wrong of me?" he questioned, his eyes cold and hollow, and she longed to see any sign of the man who had kissed every inch of her, who wiped her tears when the lost their child, who rocked her back to sleep when it thundered, some sign, any indication that she meant more to him than a working womb.

"Is it wrong of me to want a faithful husband?" she retorted back, tears sneaking down her cheeks and she wiped at them furiously. No, he wouldn’t get the satisfaction to see her cry. He hesitated for a second, before turning away from her as he said, "It isn't uncommon." He said softly, the Viscount disappearing for just a minute, and the man - Anthony - warm, kind, complicated, brash re-appeared.

She knew he was right; it wasn't uncommon for titled men to take lovers, but that didn't mean it didn't sting her. She had nothing more to say, no meager words would change his mind. Gathering her skirts as gracefully as she could, she made her way out of his chambers.

He spoke her name softly, making her turn around as he whispered, "I'm sorry, Kate."

And Kate could see that he wanted to be more, more than Viscount Bridgerton who existed only for duty. But he chose to close off, to treat her as such. So she could choose her pride, her dignity.

“You’re a coward, Anthony Bridgerton.” She said venomously and left his chambers.

She watched from afar, burying the pain and betrayal she felt, focusing all her attention on her daughters. She didn't know her name, she didn't want to. She saw her at times; making herself believe that Anthony had chosen a Brunette, brown-eyed girl for a reason.

She watched and ignored and mourned, until his lover gave birth to a son. Anthony no longer smiled at her, never even looked at his daughters. She was no longer the woman of the house, she was the woman who wasn't good enough.

Then she spiraled down a deep abyss that had no bottom.

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

Anthony heard the servants screaming as he played with his son in the garden. Handing him off to his caretaker, he ran into the mansion, following the screams.

They came from Kate's bedchambers, where he found his wife hanging from the ceiling, her tears still wet on her cheeks.

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

The dreams began years after her death.

Preoccupied with his own thoughts, he ventured into the wing of the house he never visited, as if fearing it would break him by its mere presence. The sound of loud giggling and running feet stopped him in his tracks, as a small girl ran out of her chambers and into the passage. Her governess screeched as she followed behind her. Charlotte, eleven years old now, was the spitting image of her mother, even at such a young age. His breath caught in his throat as he looked down at his daughter, a wave of emotions spiraling through him.

Taken aback by him, she stopped in her tracks, twirling around in her bright yellow dress as she gave him a shy, genuine smile, and in his head he saw Kate smiling at him the same way, on their wedding night all those years ago. She had her mother's smile. And his heart broke, when he realized the girl probably didn't even know he was her father. The governess grabbed her by the shoulders, gently reprimanding her for running away. Her hurried apologies fell on deaf ears, his attention focused on the small child who huffed and followed after her caretaker. He lingered by the door, watching as Charlotte asked her governess who the strange man was.

"He's your father, pumpkin," the old lady replied, fussing over the child's unruly curls.

From the small crack of the door, Anthony watched as the smile faded from his first-born face, her eyes growing dark and sad as she looked down at her feet. And in his head, he saw Kate's face when she learnt of his son.

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

That night, he dreamt of her for the first time.

He dreamt of the last conversation they had, he dreamt of giving in to her, he dreamt of forgetting about his need to have a son. He dreamt of not letting her walk away from him. He dreamt of never having done anything to have to apologize to her for.

He dreamt of being the Anthony that had been in love with Kate, not the coward who put his duty first.

When he woke up, he was drenched in sweat and shaking like a leaf. And never knowing, or never wanting to know, if the wetness on his cheeks was from his cold sweats or the tears he shed in the memory of his dead wife.

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He dreamt of her every night, therein.

He dreamt of the day his youngest daughter was born. He dreamt of going in to see her after he was informed it was a girl. He dreamt of holding her as Kate watched him. He dreamt of suggesting that they name her after Kate's mother. He dreamt of not leaving for four months to court another woman to share his bed and bear his son.

And when he woke up, the truth of his actions haunted him. His daughter was named Mary, but by no aid of his. And by the time he first held her, he had decided that it would be the last time he would hold her, or her mother.

He dreamt of the night he betrayed his vows to Kate. He dreamt of not going through with it. He dreamt of giving into the guilt that had flooded him. He dreamt of going back to Kate, telling her that he'd rather have her and a dozen daughters than some other woman and a male heir.

But when he woke up, his wife was now the woman who bore him his son. And his daughters had no idea who he was.

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

Weeks later, he requested to see his daughters, a request that positively baffled their governess. It was a cruel joke, he was certain of if, for each of his daughters looked just like their mother. Mary, the youngest and the most clueless, took to him the fastest, chasing the butterflies with her sister. Charlotte, stood feet away from him, holding onto her governess' hand tightly. She was afraid of him, he could tell, and deep down, he could not blame her for fearing him.

"Come sit next to me," he said, smiling at the girl who narrowed her eyes at him. His heart ached to hold his daughter's hand, trace the light freckles on her cheek, knowing that in doing so, he'd be touching a part of Kate. He needed it like he needed his next breath. But his daughter was just like her mother, stubborn and determined, as she resolutely shook her head and disappeared behind her governess.

"Why not?" he asked, burying the sudden pain and anger he felt at her rejection.

"Because," Charlotte said bravely, poking her head out from behind her caretaker's many skirts, "You killed mother."

His eyes widened as he felt his heart drop down to his gut, watching in horror as Charlotte gave him a look that screamed disappointment and bitterness, as her governess alternated between yelling at the child and apologizing to him. His daughter was ashamed of him, he could see it in her watery eyes, and he would never be her father, just the man who took her mother away.

Three truthful words and a look of pure disappointment from a child bought the weight of his decisions down on him. His hands may be clean, but his conscience never would. He might as well have tied the noose that took his Kate's life.

A coward, through and through.

And that sent him spiraling down a deep abyss with no bottom.

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

He dreamt of her asking for him. He dreamt of her pleading for his help, dreamt of her feeble, pained voice calling out for him. He dreamt of rushing to her aid, dreamt of finding her injured and helpless in her chambers. He dreamt of saving her life, dreamt of holding her till she stopped crying. He dreamt of never letting her go.

When he awoke, he created a ruckus in the mansion. Breaking through every door and waking up all the servants. Like a possessed man, he screamed and howled at everything and everyone, yelling that Kate was calling for him, insisting that he heard her, crying that she was hurt and begging them to find her for him. He searched for her for hours and hours, but to no avail.

When he finally slept that night, on the cold floor of his chambers, he did so truly believing that he had killed her yet again.

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

And from that day onwards, the ton had a new name for him. He was no longer the cool and stern Viscount. He was now The Mad Viscount. He saw Kate everywhere, in every brunette woman on the street, every brown-eyed servant in the mansion. He saw her everywhere, he heard her everywhere, and he felt her everywhere. And he knew with every fiber of his being, that she was in pain, that she needed his help, that he could save her.

And every night, he dreamt of her calling out to him.

And every night, like a mad-man he searched for her in every corner of the mansion, in every nook and cranny of the garden, every alley of every street, begging the world to give her back to him.

But she never did.

She haunted him in his every waking and sleeping moment.

Until the day he took his life in the same place she did.

#my writing #kanthony #kate x anthony #bridgerton #AGNST #anthony suffers trust me #TW #trigger warning #OOC Anthony because he would never cheat but okay #CHARACTER DEATH BEWARE

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