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2thestars-andbeyond · 2 years ago

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The Fire That Burns Within Part 4

SMUT SMUT SMUT

Warnings: Cuss words, fire play, mentions of abuse.

ENJOY. I thought I got carried away on the last part, but I think there is close to 5,000 words in this one..

Don’t forget to let me know what you think!! So I know to continue.

Eris had never wanted a mate. He had never even wanted a lover, in fact he was content with just having one night stands. Thinking back through all the centuries he had lived, he didn’t think he was ever capable of love. Lucien had been right, Beron would never agree to letting Y/n stay at the Forest House let alone in the Autumn Court at all. So Eris took her to a hunting cabin in the northwestern corner of the court.

“Wow” Y/n says, mesmerized. “We are in Autumn, but that’s the Summer court?” She points to her left,

“Yes. and that’s winter” he nods his head to the right. He couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“And this is the cabin you are going to be holding me captive in.” It wasn’t a question.

“If I remember correctly, you said you’d come with me.” Eris said with his brow raised.

“Yes, but I didn’t agree to be held prisoner in a cabin in the middle of literally nowhere.”

“Oh daring, if you were my prisoner, i’d have you tied up somewhere.” he purred. And she swallowed the lump in her throat.

“Would you like that instead?” she stared at him breathing hard. His hand lifted her chin. A knowing look in his eyes, “Oh you would, wouldn’t you?” She pulled away from him, stomping towards the cabin. This is going to be fun he thought.

She opened the door the the cabin and found the fire going already and a pot of stew over the flames.

“The cabin caters to your every need, if you are cold it will add the the fire. If you are hungry, it will cook. So on and so forth.” He explained. Y/n hadn’t noticed how hungry she was. The last time she had ate was with Azriel in Valeris. The stew smelled so good and her stomach growled.

Two bowls, two spoons and two glasses appeared on the table by the window. As they sat the bowls filled with a large helping of stew. And wine filled their glasses. Y/n took up a spoonful of screw and smelled it.

“It’s rabbit” Eris said. She was use to the gamey meat. She thought back to her days in the mortal lands hunting with Feyre.. Rabbit or deer almost for every meal. She just stares at her bowl.. “Is that okay? Let me guess, they don't eat rabbit in the Night Court? Or you refuse to eat a fluffy bunny?”

“No its not that. In the mortal lands, food was hard to come by after our father lost all our money. Feyre and I did all we could to feed the five of us.. There was an over abundance of rabbit in the spring. Rabbit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. I ate so much rabbit I thought I would turn into one.” she drifted off and thought again, then shook her head as if trying to shake the memory away. Eris watched as she ate a spoonful of stew ,juices dripping down her chin. She was quick to wipe it away with a napkin that had appeared.

Y/n frowned out the window. “You know, it’s weird. Its snowing over there, but the sun it shining over there. And here everything is in full Autumn. The leaves are colorful. Its beautiful.”

“Yes it is.” he says watching her.

“Do you ever get tired of it? Of autumn, I mean?” he shakes his head no. and she continues, “Autumn has always been my favorite season. I love the cool mornings and rainy nights.. Not to mention the colors on the trees.. I’m sorry i’m rambling” he smiles at her.

“You did that the night we met.”

She clears her throat. “Is that why you chose the wine?” she asked eye brows raised. He smirks at her. She sees a movement just outside the cabin window.

“Are there.. Wolves here in the Autumn Court?” she asks concerned.

“Why yes, there are many predators lurking in these forests. Wolves, bear.. Not to mention the occasional beast or two.”

“Beasts?” she blurts. Surly he is lying.

“Yes. That is what this cabin is used for actually. We stay here when we hunt them.”

Hopefully that’s not what she is seeing moving in the tree line. Eris follows her horrified gaze.

“Is that.. a beast?” she gapes.

Eris laughs. “No my flame, that is one of my smoke hounds.” His raising the window by where they are eating. “Come Apollo!” then whistles. Y/n gasps and watches as a dog comes running out of the tree line, darting for the front door.

The door opens on its own and in comes Apollo. Y/n had seen her fair share of dogs around the village she grew up in. Most of them stray and malnourished. But this dog was like nothing she’d ever seen. Apollo looked like a greyhound, he was beautiful.

“Come here boy. Whose a good boy?” Eris said petting him. “I own twelve.” Y/n raises her brows in shock. “Apollo, Juniper, Theo, Barnabas, Pumpernickel–” Y/n snorts. “What? I was a youngling when I got her.”

“I cant say anything really. I once had a pony named Pumpkin. He was a orange reddish color. I had a kitten named Cider and I named a bird I had rescued Fire because it was red–” she said the last part slowly because she realized the pattern.

Eris smirked at her. “Mates often become fascinated with each others likes and surroundings” he explains.

“Oh.. like Feyre painting stars on everything and Elain being obsessed with flowers because Lucien was in Spring.. And Nesta being so.. hostile?”

“Exactly” he states. After he finishes his stew he says “I have to go the the Forest House now.”

“You’re going to leave me out here all by myself?” Y/n asks slowly.

“No. Barnabas will be here to protect you.”

“A dog is going to protect me against beasts? Okay.” She says. Not believing what she is hearing. He cant just leave her out here.

“You are safe, Y/n. The cabin is warded. The beasts wont harm you. Unless you go outside.” Y/n looks at him with wide eyes. He laughs at her reaction. She throws her napkin at him.

“I am only kidding. Barnie here, will take good care of you. Won’t ya.” Y/n looks at the dog with his tongue hanging out and his barks in response. “See, you're in good hands. He will alert me of anything he feels is necessary. Apollo will stay outside the cabin.and will do the same.” he says as Apollo trots out the door. Y/n cant believe what she is hearing. But goes along with it.

Eris stands to leave. “I will be back in the morning. If you need anything just ask the cabin and it will appear.” with that he disappears.

“Guess its just me and you Barnabas.” he barks loudly. At least she won’t be lonely out here.

Eris dreaded going back to the Forest House. He would have much rather of stayed with Y/n. He feels like she hates him. But he doesn’t care, at least she isn’t in Night anymore and being coddled by the Shadowsinger. Damn him for what he did to her. He should be mad at her too but he cant bring himself to. Azriel took advantage of her. But at least he got to see parts of her that he’d longed to see since the night they had met. Since he put that mark on her. He wanted to mark her again all over her body so that everyone can see whose she is.

“There you are.” Malachi, the second oldest Vanserra, met him as soon as he stepped foot in the front door. “Father is looking for you. He’s in his study. Something about a meeting you missed..”

“Shit” he whisper yelled. The meeting with the court officials. How could he have forgotten..

“He is fuming, by the way. Quite literally.” He adds. And Eris knows his is in for a rough night. Being chewed out by his father was one thing, but there is no telling what kind of punishment he had thought up.

Eris reached the door to his fathers study. He could smell a faint burning smell. He opened the door and walked in.

“AH, there his is. Just three hours late.” Beron snarls. “You knew how important that meeting was, boy!” his father grabs him by the collar and pushes him again the door. Eris doesn’t even react. “What’s the matter boy?” his fathers hands grow warm.

“I just lost track of time” Slap. Blood trickled out of Eris’ nose, but he still stood up tall and held his shoulders back.

“You know, you'd think that since you will one day be High Lord of this court, you'd get your head out of your ass and act like it.” Beron pushed past him.

Eris went to his room and cleaned himself up. This had been one of the better out comes of his father laying a hand on him. He had scars on his body made by a dagger laced with fae bane to ensure slow healing. He had a scar where his father had craved the word entitled on the inside of his bicep. A reminder from his father that he is not entitled to anything and that he gets the court at his father's mercy. A knock sounded at his door. And his mother appeared looking at him concerned.

“Oh sweetheart” She says as she cups his face. “One day that male will pay for his cruelty”

“Mother I am fine. Eris reassures her and she gives him a disapproving look. He takes her hand in his and squeezes. “Really I am. He has done worse.” The Lady of Autumn knew that to be true.

“Why did you miss the meeting with the court officials this morning?” she asks casually

“I lost track of time.” He stays true to his story.. Although it hurts his heart to lie to his mother.

She squints her eyes and then says, “Very well, keep your little secrets..” and turns to leave.

“Mother..” she stops just outside his bedroom door. He wants so badly to tell her he has found his mate.. She would be over the moon to have another daughter.. One that would actually come around. “Tea in an hour?” he asks.

“I would like that very much.” She says with a smile on her face.

Back at the cabin, Y/n is getting ready for bed, putting on the gown the cabin gave her. She crawled in to bed. Sinking into the too soft mattress, she felt like she was laying on a cloud. Barnabas wines at the foot of the bed. “Well come on then” She says and pats the spot of the bed next to her feet. He jumps into bed, but not at the spot she wanting, instead he decided to lay behind her with his head on her stomach. “Spoiled dog” Y/n pats his head.

Y/n sleeps through the night. Thankfully having no dreams. The next morning she is woken up to Barnabas jumping off the bed. She opens her eyes and sees Eris standing at the front of her bed. “Creep” she mutters.

“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine in the morning.” He smirks.

Y/n mocks him and says, “Do not talk to me until I've had my–” A cup of warm coffee appears on her night stand along with a book and what appears to be some time of breakfast pastry. She takes a sip of the coffee finding it to be the perfect temperature. She moans and closes her eyes. “Bless you sweet cabin” The cabin seems to sway a “you’re welcome to her”

“So you like to read?” Eris asks.

“I love to read.” after a moment of realizing the nature of said book, she hides it under her blanket. Looking over her cup of coffee she says, “You have a black eye. Please don’t tell me you went and got your ass handed to you by Azriel again.”

He rolls his eyes at her. “No. What is your obsession with the Shadowsinger anyway?”

“What is your obsession with him? “ she throws back with a smirk. “Look, he was nice to me. He took me out and showed me around. Its almost like he knew I felt stuck in the night court. But now i’m stuck in Autumn. I can heal the bruise if you’d like.”

Eris steps closer to her and sits down on the bed. Y/n grabs his face and the bruise disappears. “So he treated you well” She nodded her head. “What about in bed?”

He cant be serious.. “Umm you tell me. Did it look as though he treated me well in bed. You said I sent you imagines.” after a moment Y/n realizes the smell in the air and she almost chokes of the pastry. “You enjoyed watching him fuck me, didn’t you?” Eris gapes at her.

“No. I did not. I wish that it was me instead. It’s just that when I think about those imagines..”

“Then don’t think about them, huh? And stop being a perv..” she says getting out of bed. Hes stares at her. The cabin chose well picking out her night clothes. She throws her pastry at him. “Stop staring at me.” she heads the the bathroom and brushes her teeth. Looking in the mirror, she notices that Eris’ hand print has faded. When she come out she has on black leggings and a cream colored over sized sweater.

They spend the morning together. And then Y/n asks if he needs to get back to the Forest House for his Princleing duties as she calls them. “Father is away on business. He will be gone for three days.”

“And that leaves you to maintain the court?” she asks.

“It does, but there isn’t much to do.” he takes a sip of tea.

As the morning goes on they sat on the couch in front of the fire. And the book pops up on Y/n’s lap. And Eris is quick to pick it up. Curious to see why she is finding it.

“Orcs..” he raising his brows in question.

“I–” she stammers.. “I know its strange but..”

He flips through the pages and his eyes widen.. “He slips his green cock into her slick folds. She moans and begs..” y/n snatches the book from Eris’ hands. Her cheeks are blood red. He blinks at her.

“I like fantasy romance books, okay?”

“It didn’t sound like there was much romance going on..”

“Most of the books have mates. The orc is mated to the human and..” Oh this is pointless and embarrassing. Not even Nesta knew she liked to read monster romances.

“I guess its lucky for me that orcs aren’t real. If one came in the dead of night and took you, you would be likely to go willing.. You did say you enjoyed the color green..” He muses. Y/n slaps him on the shoulder.

“I’ve read my fair share of Fae romances too, mostly ones with males that have wings.” She dead pans at him.

“Oh, is that so?” he asks.

“Mmhm. In fact, since you seem to be so fascinated by a certain winged Fae, maybe I can recommend a few books to you.” she smirked at him. Eris didn’t know what to say. “I am only teasing, Eris.” Noticing the flabbergasted look on the Heir’s face she added, “Unless that would be something you are interested in. I mean you are centuries older than me and I am sure you have explored more sexually, that is.”

“Are you hinting that I like males, as well as females?” he asks, serious look on his face.

She swallows sharply. “I- well. I was only just making a statement.”

“Are you also hinting that you think I would like to watch as a certain winged male fucked you senseless?” He asked as he got closer and closer to her with every word he purred.

Y/n didn’t really know what to say so she just stared into his amber eyes for a what felt like hours. She finally cocked her head in a challenging manner and whispered, “Would you?”

Would he? He had been bantering with the male for centuries, but was it like that? Was Azriel attracted to him? Is that why he hated him so much, he was afraid to admit to his feelings? Eris did have to admit that he was certainly intrigued by the Shadowsinger’s shadows. The way they pined him to the ground that night.. Y/n was still waiting for an answer.

“No.” he said finally, “I want to be the only male to make you come undone.”

“Damn.” Y/n says disappointed, “I was really hoping you’d be into that” Y/n shrugs. Eris was confused. What type of game was she playing?

“Geez, Fire Boy, I’m just kidding.. Lighten up.”

A glass of wine appears in front of them both. “You know, I am very impressed by this cabin.”

Three glasses of wine later, they are dancing in front of the fire. Eris is extremely close to y/n.

“Are you thinking about kissing me, Fire Boy?” she teases.

He looks at her lips. “I would like nothing more” he says as he closes the distance between them. The kiss is needy and Y/n finds herself moaning. Running her tongue against his bottom lip and twisting her fingers in his silky red hair. It was his turn to moan at the sensation.

Eris backs them up until the backs of her thighs are touching the bed. She pulls him down on top of her. Eris is standing between her legs and she grids her clothed center against his. Earning a groan from her mate. Before they knew it both of them were stripped of their clothes and he was face first in her pussy. Y/n almost came just because of the warmness of his tongue against her clit.

“Yes please.” she moans breathlessly. He inserts a long digit into her soaking core. She moans his name. Eris, liking the way his name sounded falling from her lips rewarded her by adding another finger. Her pussy tightened around his fingers.

“Fuck. So responsive.” He leaned up and took his fingers from her, Y/n whined. He bought his fingers to his mouth sucking his fingers clean of her wetness. “So good” he groaned. Y/n leaned up as well bringing him in for a needy kiss. She could taste herself on his lips. She pushed him down so that he was laying flat on his back and she was straddling him, his cock brushing the inside of her thigh. She kissed down his neck, his chest, and placed open mouth kisses to each of his thighs. Before licking his cock. She stared at the base and slowly made her way up to the tip. Looking up at him through her eyelashes she repeated the motion, never breaking eye contact.

He sucked in a sharp breath as she rolled her tongue around the head before taking as much of him as she could into her mouth. She starting bobbing her head and Eris threw his head back groaning her name. She slowly took him out of her mouth and stared kissing back up his body all the while placing her thighs on either side of his hips. Raising her hips up, she guided him into her folds. Eris almost came at the feeling of her clinching around him. He reached up and palmed her breasts as she started grinding her hips against his.

Y/n placed her hands around his neck. “You like that don’t you, Fire Boy?”

“Yes, please” he groaned. “You look so good riding my cock” Y/n slows her movements.

“Never would have taken you to be such a submissive.” A squeal l leaves her lips as Eris flips her over and places his hand around her neck and sends warm flames to pin her hands above her head.

“Oh my flame, I can do both.” He says in her ear. Then he pulls out of her and slams back in. Y/n screams “Yes. Eris, fuck.” More flames travel down the valley of her breasts and circle her peeked nipples. Y/n moans at the warm feeling.

He starts to fuck her hard and its not long till she is squeezing around his cock begging for release. “Please Eris I need–”

“I know, my love. That’s it. Cum for your mate, cum for me. Fuck–” they come at the same time while Eris rubs circles on her bundle of nerves. Eris kisses her deeply and they both try to catch their breath. Autumn court males have fire in their veins and they fuck like it too.. Y/n had heard Mor say once. And fuck was she right because that was.. She couldn’t find words for it. Saying that was the best wasn’t good enough to describe the way Eris had made her feel.

Laying there next to each other, Y/n didn’t know what to say to him.. She just couldn’t lay there after that

“Thanks for not burning me again.” She says finally. Eris turns on his side and faces her, propped up on his below hand supporting his his. Y/n noted that his pale flesh had turned a shade of red and his freckles were more profound.

Eris smirks at her “My flames will never hurt you unless I will them to.” Y/n cocks a brow. “Which I could never do. You are my mate, I could never hurt you.” And Y/n believes him.

She gets up out of bed and scratches, still naked. Eris marvels over her body. “So what does this mean? For the mating bond? We are truly mated now?” she asks as she throws a rob on. “Well, the mating bond is consummated now.”

“Yeah obviously. So what now? Cassian and Nesta had a ceremony. They gave each other food and something about a ribbon. Are Night Court traditions and same as Autumn?

“There is usually a ceremony, quite similar to a wedding in the mortal lands. The female would offer the male food and the ribbon is placed my family to bind the mated pairs hands together until the mating bond is consummated.”

“Which we have already done” she interrupts.

“Then comes the frenzy.” Fuck. she had forgotten about that part. Feyre said it lasted a week. But a whole week of doing nothing but fucking eris vanserra didnt seem so bad. “And I intend on dragging the frenzy out as long as I can” Eris adds kissing her forehead.

“What ever you say Fire Boy.” Y/n says and smacks his ass. Eris turns around surprised. As she heads off to the bath. He had never met a female like her. What y/n exists the bath Eris kisses her again and leaves for the Forest House.

Upon arrival Eris bumps into Oliver, the forth born brother. Oliver had always hated Eris. He guessed it was because he was so unlikely to inherit the throne.

He takes one sniff of his brother and says “Ahh, brother. Indulging in the brothels again, are we?” Eris stiffens. .

“Come now little Olli, you’re just jealous because the ladies find the Heir to be irresistible” Malachi says.

“Yeah” proclaims Samual, “And that he doesn’t have to use his hand like you do”

“Boys that will be enough.” Their mother appears. “Oliver see that the horses are taken care of.”

“Have fun shoveling horse shi–” Starts Samual.

But his mother smacks him the the back of the head. Oliver turns mumbling something about stable hands.

Dinner that night was just as eventful as Eris’ arrival back the the house had been. His brothers teasing him about the brothel theory. Eris tries to keep his composure for the sake of his mother and for Y/n as well. He finishes his dinner and asks to be excused.

His mother knocks on his bedroom door before he gets a chance to winnow away to the cabin.

She grabs his shoulder and gives him a concerned look. “What is it my son?” She asks. “It is not like you to act so strange.”

Eris pauses and debates on telling her. If he tells her, than that changes everything. He looks his mother in the eyes, a serious look on his face. “Mother” he swallows the lump in his throat, “I have found my mate.” he declares.

#eris vanserra #acotar x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x oc #azriel #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar x you #acotar x oc

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jmdbjk · 1 year ago

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Good morning! Pt. 2

I forgot to mention that it started to pour down rain (hence Rainy Day Fight) whenever JK was out there lost in the streets and I’m sure that added to his stress because he didn’t know how to get back to the dorm. Thundering, lightning, who knows... wind maybe... some outside force got upset at JK in that moment. The Universe seemed to step in and pour a bucket of water on a young JK's head to get his attention... it worked.

Continuing...

So he's scrolling through a million cooking videos and then all of a sudden "Lee Mujin Service April Fools Day Special" comes up?

I can't be the only one who is giving that the big ol' side eye... amongst all the food/cooking videos THAT one shows up? Riiiight...

He says he hasn't seen it... riiiiight.... whatever you say Kookie.

Curiously... the translation subtitle says he said "Jimin!" but that's not what he said. I don't know what he said but it wasn't Jimin.

He fast forwards a little and then this:

Hahahahaha! Yep, I bet you've heard enough about Face album to last you a while. That project tied up your Jiminie for most of the past year and had you sitting in your living room-cave drinking beer and eating gobs of fried chicken in front of Netflix all winter long singing to your giant tv and keeping the neighbors awake.

But that doesn't stop Kook from obviously loving Like Crazy...

[we're sorry we're experiencing technical difficulties with the video, please standby]

He couldn't think of Bosa Nova for the genre.

The mimicking was 💀 ... I died. I can see Jimin practicing some mock interviews with him. That seems very much like something Jimin would do. JK loves his Jimin. That's all there is to it.

Then he sang along with Lee Mujin on "Butterfly" and "Traffic Light" where he unleashed some killer ad libs. He proceeded to play air drums.

When he was done with that he scrolled some more and commented there are only cooking shows... I swear ... how did the Lee Mujin show just appear amongst all the cooking shows Kookie?? hmmmmm????

He has watched it before, that's how, it was in his history.

I have to tell you... I will admit, my mind lives in the gutter... please get that stick out from between your legs and ESPECIALLY STOP rubbing the knob at the end of it!!!

You can't tell me he doesn't know what we say on here about him. He lurks in the rabbit hole...I just know it.

Finds this specific thing and then proceeds to sing along with himself... if the neighbors managed to keep sleeping through the drumming on the furniture jam session, they surely woke up when he started to belt out Airplane Pt. 2.

But he couldn't remember the lyrics to Save Me...

When the Best of Me verse came up where he and Jimin do the switchy-switchy back and forth choreo he couldn't help himself... he had to couch dance... and it turned out to be a loop hahahahaha!

Then he belted out Wasurenai by Tanaka. The neighbors probably have given up on sleeping in by now. It's a workday anyway. Get your ass out of bed.

[the toes...] I'm not a foot person but I would give him a foot rub.

That's because you are interrupting your body's involuntary intake and exhalation of oxygen. It is theorized that the brain triggers yawns to keep you alert. I know everyone needed to know that. Don't look at my brain, its scary in there. Moving on...

And then he swapped hats and launched into a 5 minute impression of G-Dragon... I don't know anything about G-Dragon except he was in BigBang with Taeyang. I did see him arriving at Incheon one time and he was wearing the shortest shorts I've ever seen a man wear in public these days. They were like booty shorts... He did not make eye contact with anyone, as if he wished he was somewhere else. Came across as a typical western rapper... full of attitude and not gratitude. That's my impression of who G-Dragon is. Anyway. This:

Paint me clueless because I have no idea what just happened.

Ok, let me take a step away for a second and speak about something: Jungkook just parodied G-Dragon. He was mimicking Jimin earlier... ALL IN FUN. The theory is, when you mimic others, you subconsciously create a bond with those individuals. If you dislike someone, your subconscious will dampen any desire to do that. Psychology is fascinating isn't it?

I've seen some trying to weaponize these instances during this live. Jungkook mimics and copies because these are people he enjoys, not people he hates. There is not a malicious bone in JK's body. Just a lot of bones and cartilages that sound like bubble wrap being stepped on when he cracks them. Again moving on...

He stopped on Kurzgesagt, a Youtube channel that creates animated videos on a variety of topics that are informational and enlightening. Kookie loves the aesthetics of the channel.

He spends the next 10 minutes searching for something to watch while his brain tries to wind down and tell him its time to sleep. He subconsciously starts humming Like Crazy again and then finds a Jay Park song. I am thinking a collab is coming even though most of us could do without Jay Park. Obviously, Jungkook has a thing for him so I will remain open minded about any song should one be released. JK's vocals will elevate it to the stratosphere regardless.

I remember the pushback when we learned about Jimin's collab with Taeyang. And it turned out to be a great song and speaking for myself, I found Taeyang to be a decent and likable human. Why I ever doubted the kind of person Jimin would admire, I have no idea.

Displaying his prowess of composing songs on the spot:

The entire live was classic Jungkook. He will talk about almost anything and share a wide-ranging amount of TMI. Even now, he shows us how open he is about so much. He covered so many random things but mostly talked about his three favorite things: working out/body care, cooking and Jimin.

And Jimin and Jungkook...they are still the same as they've always been, always and forever since the rainy day fight up until now.

He finally decided to "rest a bit" before heading out and bid us farewell.

Apobangpo Kookie! I hope we get to see you soon again!

More thoughts as I sit here thinking about Jungkook and Jimin through the years... it shouldn't be taken lightly how much influence Jimin has had on Jungkook. And to think of their dynamic over the years, watching the way they look at each other and speak to each other has evolved. It is rare to be able to observe such a thing happen between two people in real life. The way they both light up when they see the other's presence... lately we've seen it during these lives... they both beam with joy at each other... it's an amazing thing.

(FYI: My gifs and video prevented this post from showing up on the tumblr feed so there are screenshots for now.)

#that sad excuse of a floor lamp behind the couch...#jk is the biggest pjm #jikook #i was interrupted 5 million times at work trying to finish this #HE CUT HIS HAIR #IT'S THE BEGINNING OF THE END OF HIS LONG HAIR!#apobangpo #festa 2023

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relicsongmel · 1 year ago

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you should. tell me your thoughts about ray shields

OH GOD OH FUCK OKAY IF YOU INSIST. I hope you’re ready cause hooooo boy do I have some for you HERE WE GOOOO

Where the hell do I even start. Raymond Shields…my ray of light. My hotshot wonder. My weirdgirl king. I guess before anything else I’ll tell you about how this man absolutely blindsided me—Uncle Ray put your friend Mel through a turnabout of her own and she’s gonna explain how it happened so buckle in. I’ll try to make this as coherent as possible but I need you to understand this man has way too much power over me and a single fleeting thought of him can melt my brain into mush so. Apologies if this comes out as completely nonsensical it’s his fault not mine

I’ve been in the Ace Attorney fandom for a little over a year and had a couple of things accidentally spoiled for me as a result (some of which was my own fault, admittedly) but when I started Investigations 2 last September all I knew about Ray was his name and (sort of) what he looked like. Like a lot of English-speaking fans, I was initially put off by his portrayal in the localization. This immediately stuck out as odd to me because my personality is such that I don’t have a lot of characters I genuinely dislike, especially if they’re part of the main cast—even if they’re not my favorite I can almost always find something to love about them. It made me wonder if maybe some of his quirks got lost in translation somewhere (and I did find out later that this was indeed the case), but I didn’t actively seek out that information at the time for fear of being spoiled, so I just suffered through the early parts of The Imprisoned Turnabout doing my best to ignore what I perceived as questionable behavior on his part.

However, if I’ve learned anything from my time in this fandom it’s that nothing in Ace Attorney is surface level—one of my FAVORITE things to do when playing this series besides voice acting the characters is figuring out what makes them tick and speculating character motivations as the game progresses using the little hints scattered by the writers here and there—I was already somewhat intrigued by Ray’s apparent grudge toward Miles but when the revelation of his partnership with Gregory dropped my brain immediately went BRRRRRRRRR. I started wondering what that experience of working for him was like and how it affected him (and if his unwavering loyalty to Gregory was related to his grudge toward Miles). I started exploring the whole WEB of parallels between him and Gregory and Miles and Phoenix and Mia and Maya and Kay (and probably more but those are the main ones). I fell in love with the beautiful mentor-student relationship he developed with Miles, even if in the moment I was baffled by the weirdly flirty things Ray sometimes says to him (like the line about swapping clothes in the Winter Palace. What the fuck was that about sir) and VERY confused/worried about whether Miles had met him as a child or not (I still don’t know/can’t remember if the game ever gave us a concrete answer on this btw—if any of you know please do enlighten me). And above all I knew—I KNEW that he was hiding a boatload of trauma regarding the DL-6 incident; made even more clear to me by the contrast between his teen and adult selves once I got to The Inherited Turnabout. I knew he was using humor as a mask to hide the pain of what happened. I knew from the fact he still had Greg’s old coat and wore his hat every day that he hadn’t moved on. This, I thought to myself, is a deeply emotional man deathly afraid of emotional vulnerability haunted by the ghost of a loved one. And let me tell you, as someone who’s been in a similar position myself, to say that really struck a chord with me is an understatement.

AND THEN THE THIRST. Oh boy. If I’ve sounded really eloquent up until now that shit’s about to go out the goddamn window because SWEET MOTHER MARY I AM DOWN SO BAD IT’S EMBARRASSING. I recorded my playthrough starting from Chapter 2 (just for fun—I’m not nearly brave enough to post any of it on the internet except maybe some short clips here and there) and you can literally see the clear turning point I had after hearing his Objection voice for the first time. I started making innuendos left and right (IT’S NOT MY FAULT his dialogue lends itself really well to that sort of thing ok). In true Ray Shields fashion it started half as a joke but devolved into absolute chaos. This coupled with the fact that I was slowly but surely becoming more invested in the inner conflict of his character? I was beyond saving at that point. No hope for me. Nothing left but to leap into Uncle Ray’s arms and let them wander where they will. “Ride that stallion into the sunrise,” as it were. I could go on but quite frankly the things I want that man to do to me (and what I want to do to him) are too unholy for this world so I’ll leave it there.

And that’s the story of how Raymond Shields permanently infected my brain. It’s been an absolutely wild ride but I hope you enjoyed the journey—glad we can share our love of this silly disastrous emotionally repressed paper-eating man together <3

#ask #raymondshields #raymond shields #aa #aai2 #about me #↖️ this user is not normal about raymond shields ace attorney and you best believe she's going to make it everyone's problem #<- AND NOW YOU KNOW. why I have that tag #this was an absolute DELIGHT to write thank you <3

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aleheartilly · 6 months ago

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Five Lines Tag

Thanks for the tag @angelosearch!

rules: find five lines based on the prompts you are given, then change one of the prompts at the end!

A Line About Butts

From Pieces:

“Oh, you better,” he says, pressing his lips against her hair, moving his hand to pinch her backside. “In Balamb, we are really serious about our pasta.”

A Sad Line

From The Wolves (what might have been lost):

On a table on his right, a small glass vase was holding the flowers she loved so much. Loved. The past tense never sounded so definite, so irreversible, so painful as when he has to use it to talk about the woman he loves. And it hurts so damn much to think she loved things, she loved him, but he still loves her and it’s almost like having a black hole swallowing his entire being.

A Furious Line

From chapter 4 of my AU The Winter Rose:

"Because it's all about you, Princess." He moved his arm to point at the painting, at the ceiling in all its glorious, magnificent opulence. "You need this and you don't care what other people may feel about that. It's all about what you want, and what you need. Did you ever stop to consider maybe I don't want to be involved in this Knight thing you need?"

A Line Describing Scenery

From A seat next to you:

There’s a timid sun, shining on their flower field through a couple of clouds. The air is filled with the scent of flowers, and there’s a soft breeze that ruffles her hair, carrying the smell of a cleansing storm. She realizes there’s an animal somewhere nearby – a seagull, maybe, crying over the crashing waves of the sea.

A Fun Line

From Board Games:

“First Squall’s fat ass on my fragile back and then your scrawny elbow in my beautiful eye!”

Sooooo I tag @suleikashideaway, @irishais, @summonerluna, @gardengalwrites. @deemoyza and whoever wants to try Your lines are:

A Line About Skies

A Sad Line

A Furious Line

A Line Describing Scenery

A Fun Line

#tag game #quote game #ffviii #ff8 #final fantasy viii #final fantasy 8 #squall leonhart #rinoa heartilly #squall #rinoa #squall x rinoa #squinoa #squinoa fanfiction

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taggedmemes · 1 year ago

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SENTENCE MEME ⟶ THE WOMBATS / B - Z Sides ( PART ONE ) always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

"When I first held your hand, things felt right and in place."

"Why am I so afraid?"

"Remember when I first saw you?"

"If it's alright with you, I think I'll leave soon."

"I think I'll miss you."

"I think I'll love you."

"You were so hard to find."

"What took us so long?"

"The ceiling never looked so interesting."

"Say something to fill the void."

"This window never looked so small."

"My face never looked this disenchanted."

"You made me feel like Brad Pitt."

"I'm black and blue."

"There's no time for me to catch my breath."

"I'm in a cage."

"I think I'm out the game."

"I drink too much because there's not enough of you there."

"There's not enough of you anywhere."

"I've had enough."

"I think too much."

"I've given up on life and death."

"I like it when you're rude."

"I'll try, but I know there's no point."

"I'm not confident enough to play the field like those guys."

"I'm not secure enough to fool around like those guys."

"I've been knocked down."

"My head's in the clouds."

"I just forgot to breathe."

"I'm so scared about that stuff."

"If you've got nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all."

"She might turn me away."

"Today, I'm gonna make a change."

"The world loves hypocrisy."

"You wreck my mind more and more with each passing day."

"I think you're crazy."

"I think you're rude."

"We don't mean that much."

"I don't need much to make me happy."

"This is love."

"I think I'll go down just to get away."

"In the back of my mind I'm waiting for this to just end up in tears."

"I've just had the craziest week."

"I don't know why I want to voice this out loud."

"It's therapeutic somehow."

"We're not the same."

"I put one foot forward and ended up thirty yards back."

"Am I losing touch or am I just completely off the track."

"Are you gonna screw my head up?"

"You're pretty weird but you're not a psycho."

"I never got so many texts as I did from you last night."

"Is it such a big waste of time?"

"You and I could be so happily screwed."

"You've got selective hearing."

"I'm frankly bored now of your attitude."

"When we speak your eyes are everywhere."

"It's all or nothing for you."

"Take that cigarette out of your mouth."

"Don't you think it's time that we should move on?"

"Everything that meant anything is gone."

"Take my credit cards far away from me."

"I'm not mature enough to keep one little eye on anything."

"You don't call the shots."

"Why am I lacing every single night with doubt."

"I'm Mr. Jealous Man today."

"Don't wanna feel sorry for myself now."

"Let's not get lost in ourselves today."

"I can never be the good guy."

"My car broke down and mirrored both our lives."

"Politics make it so hard for us."

"This war's between two men and four million puppy dogs."

"They don't know it yet, but we both know they're coming between us."

"I can bury my head in the sand just as fast as the next man."

"They say that our strengths should have been growing over time."

"You've gotta see there's something wrong."

"We trudged through winter and spring for this."

"You're pretty desperate to get out of this town."

"Sundays and I are not meant to be."

"It doesn't affect you like it does me."

"I'd be a couch potato all my life."

"Why have you got an array of board games under your arm?"

"What's the point of going somewhere else if you're only going to do exactly what you would be doing at home?"

"Looks like we're both in checkmate now."

"Board games have a double meaning."

"That's your automatic response when everything is going wrong."

"What a happy, clappy fun day."

"This ghost train will derail and crash."

"I got a spot of bad news."

"There's not much you can do if you've got the theme park blues."

"It's just that everything is upside down."

"I'm the one who has the frown."

#memes #meme #rp meme #starter sentences #starter meme #rp starters #lyric starters

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umitscomplicated · 2 years ago

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The Wolf Moon

I've been trying to figure out why I was so emotional the last two days, so I looked up the moon phase. Tonight is a full moon. It's about letting go and moving on, moving forward without baggage, cleansing. I have an irresistibly strong urge to get naked and get in water under the moonlight. I text a few people asking if they know of anywhere I can go do that. Coyote was the person I thought would know, but she doesn't. I can't think of anyone I know with a pool or hot tub. On a whim, I text Jaguar. I thought he might just say no and think I was a little out there. Instead he says, “Best question I have heard in a long time! I'd love to go if you find somewhere". Then about 20 minutes later, he texts back with an idea. There’s a lake nearby that has a campground. Yes, perfect. We make plans to go together.

Honestly I just completely lost my fucking mind with this full moon. I am a very outdoorsy person. I’m from the north and have real winter gear. I was nowhere near as prepared as I should have been, because all I could think was naked-water-moonlight. So that’s how, a few hours later, I ended up at a campsite in the woods with a boy I’ve met exactly once. And it was literally the most magical evening.

He brought way too much stuff given we had to hike into this campsite, so we had to take a few trips back and forth to the cars. But on the other hand, I brought exactly as much as I could carry in one trip, and I maybe should have been better prepared. It was a low of 34F that night. I had some warm clothes, extra layers, and two sleeping bags. He brought an extra hat, socks, and jacket for me - which was just so sweet and thoughtful.

The campsite wasn’t right on the water, so we had to walk down a hill through the woods a bit to get to the water. Jaguar was so cute and found a sturdy branch I could use as a walking stick, to help me down the hill. We got down to the water, and it was pretty obvious there was no way for us to get into the water. We would need to either wade through about 20 feet of sticks, leaves, and muck; or walk down further and hop off about a 5 foot drop off into the shallow water. Neither of us was confident that I would be able to get out of either situation, so instead we just stood next to the water under the moonlight. None of the trees had any leaves on them, and the sky was almost perfectly clear. The moonlight was so bright, the water still, and everything was mystical. You could taste the magic in the air. We stood near the water and talked for over an hour, until we got cold and decided to go build a fire.

He built the fire, and made some sausages. We stood around the fire and talked some more. We both just kept looking up at the moon through the trees. It was so surreal. Occasionally a plane would fly overhead, and break the spell for a minute. We talked about how that moon was about letting go and moving on. I had several things I needed to process still - the situations with Deer and Scorpion primarily. We talked about that and he said essentially the exact same things as what Dick Pics said, which was comforting to get the same perspective again. We talked about what he wanted to let go of, and he said he still has feelings for his ex. We also had just random conversation, like if we were any other mammal, what would we be? I said I would want to be a big jungle cat, like a jaguar, because I wanted to go to places humans never go, and to tear and shred my food with my teeth. He said that was a great answer, and told me about how he worked at a wildlife rehab in the jungle for a while, and they had jaguars. He said they were terrifying and so cool. We talked about how tonight was exactly what we both needed. It felt right. Like I was exactly where I was supposed to be. The right place, at the right time, with the right person. It felt peaceful. I felt present. It’s the strongest and clearest I’ve ever felt that I was right where I was supposed to be. It felt really good, to follow this crazy instinct, and to end up there.

We got into the tent at around 1 or 2 in the morning. It was cold, so we each put on several extra layers. Then we ended up taking a few of them off each other, and playing around in the cold. He made kind of a roaring noise while kissing my neck, and I laughed and asked him what that was. He said, “A jaguar”.

We woke up around dawn, after getting approximately 35 seconds of sleep. And I felt fucking incredible. I felt so alive and refreshed. We worked together to pack up camp and carry everything back to the cars - which was a lot easier when we didn’t need to carry firewood. We said goodbye at our cars, and there was a cute moment when he gave me a look and said, “I want to do this again.” I said I did, too.

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onceuponastory · 3 years ago

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broken machine - b.b x reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!reader Plot: After her best friend and crush Bucky Barnes, also known as The Winter Soldier, is recaptured by HYDRA and has his mind wiped again causing him to forget everything he knows...even her, Y/N Y/L/N takes it upon herself to help bring his memory back. However long it takes. Warnings: Kidnap, torture, brainwashing, mind wiping/amnesia, blood, injuries, violence, malnourishment...basically everything Bucky did as The Winter Soldier and had done to him by HYDRA is mentioned or implied here. A/N: SO I saw the Beauty and the Beast musical this weekend, and even though I already have another Bucky fairytale/Disney inspired fic on the go, I felt like I HAD to write something for Bucky with Beauty and the Beast. So, here we are! I should say, it’s not fully based on Beauty and the Beast, because there’s no Gaston or enchanted castle/spell, but I hope you’ll get the little references I put in here.

ALSO! This fic is very angsty. So be prepared. But it’s angst with a happy ending.

Steve Rogers and Y/N Y/L/N walk through the hallways of The Avengers HQ towards the holding cells of the building. “Steve, what’s going on?” She asks. Steve, one of her closest friends, had come to her office and found her, telling her: “We need your help. It’s serious.” Of course, she came as soon as she could. She’s done some work for The Avengers before, rehabilitating criminals and people previously under HYDRA’s control, and figured it would be the same kind of thing. Unfortunately for her, Steve isn’t saying anything.

“I think it’s better if you see for yourself.” He sighs, and soon the pair reach the cell they need. Y/N gasps when she sees who’s inside it.

“Bucky?” She gasps. Hearing his name, Bucky looks up at her, glaring at her. He comes stalking over, and Steve gently moves her back behind him for her protection. The look Bucky gives her sends a shiver up her spine. “W-What happened to him?”

“We were out on a mission together...but it was a trap. HYDRA found him and took him back. Luckily we managed to find him after a few days and bring him back with us...but he’s changed. We were hoping...you might be able to help rehabilitate him again.” Steve was right. After Bucky’s last rampage as The Winter Soldier, she helped to calm him down and bring his old self back. But this...this is different. In the time since she had helped to bring Bucky back, the pair had grown even closer, and become best friends. And...she also found herself falling in love with him. And now, her best friend and the man she’s in love with is kept behind bars and looks completely different. Bucky’s face is twisted into something unrecognisable. He’s like an animal, almost snarling at her as his eyes scan over her. His chest goes up and down as he pants, and he regards both her and Steve with a glare.

“He’s…” She begins, not even finding the words to say.

“I know.” Steve says. His voice is soft, reassuring...but she knows there’s a sorrow within his voice. Because after all, Steve has tried so hard to bring back the Bucky he remembers from before the war. Some would say that Bucky has been lost forever, but Steve swears he is still in there somewhere. In actuality, Steve has tried hard to bring back both the versions of him and Bucky that were lost when they went to war, but he hasn’t been able to yet. Sometimes, she can see a look of sadness on Steve’s face when he thinks nobody is looking at him. She can sense his despair for the world he lost when he came to the future...and a sadness that the one link he has to his past, his best friend, doesn’t even remember him anymore. Her hand finds Steve’s, and she gives it a tight reassuring squeeze. “Do you...do you think you can help?” He asks. She doesn’t even know what to say to him. She loves what she does, but this...this is different. This is Bucky. The man who means so much to everyone, especially her. What if she can’t do it? “I know you care about him too.”

“How…” She trails off, and Steve scoffs. But there’s no malice behind it, just light teasing.

“Please, Y/N, I may be from the forties, but I still know what being in love with someone looks like.” She hates how her cheeks flushing gives her away, and in response, Steve gives her hand another squeeze.

“Was he wiped? Again?” She asks. But she already knows the answer before Steve confirms it with a nod. With the way Bucky looks at them both, it’s clear he has no idea who either of them are anymore. His blue eyes scan over both of them, wondering if they’re a friend or foe.

“Do you think we can do it? Bring him back?” Steve asks.

“It’s going to be tough.” She sighs. “Last time he was wiped, it took almost half a year to bring him back even a little, and HYDRA has just undone all that work.”

“I know. To be honest, I’m terrified this won’t work.” Steve runs his hand through his hair, and her heart sinks. It’s weird seeing someone like Steve, someone always so cheerful and reassuring, be so pessimistic. “...But, I trust you. I know how good you are at this sort of thing. And I know that we know Bucky better than anyone else. There’s a chance here, and maybe we can bring him back.”

“Yeah, but Steve, this is different. This is Bucky. He…” She trails off, looking back at Bucky. He seems to have calmed down, and he warily glances between them both, his anger dissipated. Her heart breaks as she looks at him. He looks like a lost puppy, and it takes everything in her to not burst into tears right then. Everything Bucky was, and everything he had: his memories, personality, and life until now is all gone again. She can’t even imagine what losing all of that is like, or what Bucky is feeling right now. And at that moment, Y/N knows for sure that she’ll help. Like she’d ever say no in the first place. “I’ll do it.”

~*~*~*~*~

The following morning, Y/N brings Bucky some breakfast to his cell. Sam and Steve follow her down the narrow hallway to his cell, one on either side of her. They promise to stay outside, just in case Bucky gets confused and tries to hurt her. The fact that there’s even a chance of that breaks her heart all over again. Bucky, the sweetest guy she knows, who wouldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone her...is now a potential threat to her safety. She takes a deep breath and enters the cell, carrying the tray with eggs, bacon, toast, water, and some tea. Bucky’s favourite. As she walks towards him, her gaze glances down towards the plums at the side of the tray. The memory enters her mind before she can even stop it.

“How many plums have you eaten, Buck?” She frowns, glancing at the array of pits beside Bucky at the table.

“Plums are meant to be really good for your memory.” Bucky responds, his mouth still full. “I thought it might work for me, you know?” He shrugs. Even if he doesn’t show it, she can tell that being unable to remember anything affects him. She sighs sadly.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.”

“It’s not your fault.” He reassures her. “I just hope it works.” And now, all that work that she and Bucky tried to do is gone, and they’re back at square one. She takes a breath to steady herself as the door to the cell opens. But then again, she was no stranger to a challenge. Bucky regards her carefully as she enters the cell.

“Morning.” She smiles, hoping she comes off as friendly. “I brought you some food.” She steps forward to place the tray down on the little table in the cell, then steps back to let Bucky approach it and her in his own time. She hates how this feels. All she wants to do is rush up, give him a hug and talk to him about her day, just like before. But she can’t. Right now...and for the foreseeable future, Bucky is just like any of her other patients. Regardless of their history. Bucky steps forward and looks over the food on the tray. “I brought your favourite.” She says. Bucky regards her with another cautious glance. And then, deciding she means no harm, he sits down at the table and quickly begins to eat. From the speed he eats, Y/N can tell almost immediately that HYDRA must not have fed him much...or at all. As he eats, Bucky glances up at her occasionally. She knows he’s doing it to make sure she’s not a threat, and anyone would do the same thing if a strange person you’ve barely seen before showed up with food for you out of the blue...but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t hate it. She wishes she could just tell him that she’s not a threat. But after what he’s been through, there’s probably no way he’d believe her. To him, everything and anyone must be a threat. As Bucky looks up again, his blue eyes, the ones she knows so well, search over her. She notices bags under his eyes. He looks haggard. She hates saying that about him because to her, Bucky always looks handsome. But he looks different. Then again, being kidnapped, tortured and mind-wiped again probably won’t do wonders for your appearance. She glances around the room. The cell is small, and the bed doesn’t look comfy at all. Her mind reminds her that right now, Bucky is just like any other prisoner The Avengers have, and just because he’s friends with some of them doesn’t mean he receives any different treatment, including a nice bed...but she still feels terrible. Maybe if Steve and Sam can help her, they can get him a nicer bed. Three people are better than one, right?

A small mumble pulls her out of her thoughts, and she looks back over to see Bucky is looking at her again. “I’m sorry?” She frowns.

“...Thank you.” He repeats, his voice still a mumble, and he gestures to the food in front of him. Or rather, the empty plate. Including the plums. She smiles. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“Oh! You’re welcome.” Bucky goes back to staring at her. She can see him frowning, trying to put the puzzle pieces together in his mind if he knows her or not. She slowly steps forward, making sure to not frighten him. “I’m, um. I’m Y/N.” She introduces herself. “I’m your friend. I’m here to help you hopefully regain your memories.” Bucky’s face is blank, and she steps slightly closer. “Do you remember your name?” She asks.

“...Soldat.” Is the word that comes out. Bucky frowns even more, clearly thinking harder to see if anything else is there. But he soon gives up and shakes his head. "I...I don't know." And that breaks her heart all over again. Ignoring the tears stinging at her eyes, she takes a breath.

“Your name is James.” She tells him, her voice soft. “Actually, it’s Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes. But we all call you Bucky.” He looks at her like she’s grown an extra head. “I can call you whatever you like. James, Bucky, Sergeant...or Soldat.”

“...Bucky.” He mumbles. For a moment, she almost sees a flicker of recognition in Bucky’s eyes. Her heart rate rises. Maybe this will be easier than she thought. Maybe Bucky’s memory is more robust than she thought. Perhaps he remembers Steve, Sam...and her. Unfortunately...he does not remember what she hopes he does.

“Sergeant Barnes. The procedure has already started. You are to be...the new fist of HYDRA.” Zola tells him. Immediately, Bucky’s mind is flooded with memories. Memories of falling. Memories of people. People prodding at him. Poking at his arm. Treating him like some kind of broken machine. He can feel their touch all over his skin again. Reflexively, he twitches, and his metal arm tenses. Y/N frowns.

“Bucky? Are you okay? It’s-” But Bucky can’t hear her. All he can think about is what happened to him. The torture. The violence. The screams. And the pain. Oh god, the pain. Someone make it stop. Please. Before Y/N can even say anything else, and before someone hurts Bucky again, he launches the plate across the cell with his metal arm. It smashes against the wall. Y/N instinctively jumps back at the movement and the noise, clearly frightened. Steve and Sam had told her how HYDRA had changed Bucky. They had told her how violent he was, so dangerous and different from his usual self. But she had no idea just how different or violent he really was. Bucky pants, his chest heaving. He catches her eye, and the fear on her face causes his eyes to widen in shock. Bucky still has no idea who the woman is, but she seems nice, and she brought him food. And now, he’s scared her. His eyes glance to the broken plate, lying smashed by the wall. His heart sinks. Steve and Sam are by her side in seconds, accompanied by armed guards. As Sam and Steve gently pull her out of the cell, she glances back towards Bucky. He looks at all the guards surrounding him with a look of acceptance. As if he’s gone through this before and is ready to be taken out or wiped again. She sighs sadly.

This is going to take longer than she expected.

~*~*~*~*~

A few days after Bucky’s outburst, Y/N still hasn’t been able to go back and see him. And she’s getting more and more irritated with every passing minute. “This isn’t good for his rehabilitation!” She argues, pacing frustratingly across the room. “Having someone coming to see him and treating him with kindness and food, then taking them away again makes it seem like a punishment. He’s going to think he did something wrong and close up again.” She huffs. “I need to go back as soon as possible.”

“Look, Y/N, I understand where you and Steve are coming from, I do. And I want to help him too. But he’s clearly still dangerous. What if that plate had hit you? Or what if he hit you himself?” Sam argues. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“But it didn’t! I’m fine! ...Well, just shaken up, but that’s okay! I’m fine. One hundred percent.” She lies. Of course, part of her is still scared. But her love for Bucky and her wish to see him get better overrides everything. “And besides, he’s had a few days to calm down and think things over as best as he can.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I agree with Sam. We can’t put you in harm’s way again. He’s too unpredictable.” Steve sighs. “We’ll have to do it ourselves again.”

“Guys, seriously, I’m okay. I’ve had worse. But trust me on this, please. Bucky needs this. He needs a constant in his life. A constant that isn’t a fight.” Steve and Sam refuse to meet her eyes. “Please.” She stresses. When the pair still say nothing, she huffs. “Fine. I’ll deal with it myself.” Before the two can react, she leaves the room and runs into the elevator to take her down to the cells. As she walks towards his cell, one of the guards she saw a few days ago walks up to her.

“He’s not allowed any visitors. Especially not after what happened.” He tells her. She hates how he says that with almost a smirk, as if he’s known all along that Bucky is unsafe. Anger rises within her.

“I’m not a visitor. I’m here to work, and I’m here to help rehabilitate him.” She responds, holding up her badge for identification. The man doesn’t even look at it, and continues to smirk.

“Sorry, Miss. An order is an order. He’s dangerous.” She leans in close.

“Listen. I don’t know who you take your orders from around here, but I take mine from Tony Stark, and I’m sure he’s more senior than whoever you take your orders from. So I’d advise you to move.” The man looks confused, and she takes that moment to push past him and hurry back down to Bucky’s cell. She wasn’t exactly lying. Tony was her boss. But he was almost everyone’s boss, and despite being friends with Steve, Sam and Bucky, she hasn’t had much interaction with Tony. She ignores the sound of the guard calling after her and trying to bring her back. She opens the door to the cell, and Bucky looks up from his position on the bed. His worried look is replaced by one of recognition.

“You’re...back.” He whispers. Y/N doesn’t reply, instead noticing the number of bruises and cuts littering Bucky’s skin.

“What happened to you?” She asks, placing her bag down and quickly walking over to him. “Can I sit?” She asks, not even caring about how much he scared her the other day. All she cares about is helping Bucky. Bucky nods. He still fully doesn’t remember her in the way she seems to remember him, but he does remember how nice she was to him a few days ago. In fact, she’s been one of the only people who’s ever been nice to him. “Who did this to you? Was it HYDRA?”

“...Some of them. The others were….” Y/N knows who he means almost immediately. The guards from the other day. Anger fills her body again. She knows Bucky isn’t dangerous, and if everyone just LISTENED to her, they’d know that too. But then, she sees Bucky looking at her, his blue eyes full of tears, and her anger dissipates. “I’m.” He begins, getting choked up before he can continue. “I’m sorry. For...scaring you.” Her gaze softens.

“It’s okay.” Bucky shakes his head.

“No. I-I did. I saw. Your face...”

“I understand Bucky. You’ve been through a lot. It’s understandable.” She smiles. “Have you been to the medical bay? Has someone treated these?” She asks, and he shakes his head. Why would anyone care about him like that? Even HYDRA didn’t treat him or his injuries. Although they told him that he was doing a good job and was useful to them, they still didn’t care about him enough to ensure he was being fed enough or got enough rest. Here, they keep talking about how he’s a monster or a villain. Something broken, but this time damaged beyond repair. If HYDRA didn’t take care of him, then there’s no way anybody here would. Sighing, Y/N picks up her bag and rummages through it. “I swear to god. I told them you’d need help, but nobody in this damn building listens to me. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” She promises as she rummages through her bag, putting some things on his bed. “I’m sorry. All I have are tissues, plasters and this disinfectant spray. My first aid kit is severely lacking.” She chuckles awkwardly. She crosses over to the little sink in the cell and begins to run the tissues under cold water. Bucky sits on the bed, slightly confused. He terrified this poor woman, and yet, here she is, taking care of him.

Y/N’s phone, still sitting on the bed, chimes with a notification, and Bucky’s eyes glance over to it. Something on the screen from a person called Sam appears, and soon it disappears. Bucky notices what looks like a picture of him with this woman pop up as the thing from Sam disappears. He peers down at it, leaning closer. They both look happy, but he can’t remember anything about it: when this picture was taken, why they look so happy, or why she has it. “Okay...and we’re-” Y/N stops, seeing Bucky staring at her phone screen.

“That’s...me?” Bucky frowns, looking up at her. His blue eyes are wide like a child’s, eager to learn about the world around them. Sighing, Y/N nods and sits back down.

“Yes, it is.”

“And that’s you...Y/N.” He continues, and she nods again. It’s nice to hear the sound of her name leaving Bucky’s mouth once again. If only it was under better circumstances. “...Why?” He frowns.

“Before this happened, and you lost your memory, we were friends.” She explains. She wants to tell him everything from the beginning, to tell him memories of times spent with just the two of them, or with Sam and Steve. To say to him that she never stopped being his friend, not once, and would go back to being his friend in a heartbeat. But she also doesn’t want to overload his brain with memories he can’t remember...or remember falling in love with Bucky all over again when all he knows about her right now is her name. From the look of confusion on Bucky’s face, she knows she made the right choice...even if it’s tearing her apart inside. “Can I?” She asks, gesturing to a small cut on his arm, and he nods warily. She picks up the can of disinfectant spray. “This might sting a little. I’m sorry.” She sprays his arm, and Bucky grunts, squirming away from her a little. Slowly and gently, Y/N reaches over and cleans the wound of blood and grime, applying a plaster to it. “There we go. Just...a lot more to go.” She laughs awkwardly again, glancing back at Bucky, her eyes scanning his body.

As she starts cleaning another wound, Bucky feels a weird feeling inside. One he doesn’t understand. Is it recognition? Is something locked away in his brain coming back out? Or is something else happening? Something he doesn’t know? Then again, there’s a lot of things Bucky doesn’t remember, especially now. He looks over at Y/N, delicately resting her fingers on his skin as she cleans his wounds. Or maybe this is what it feels like to finally have someone look after you after being tortured and used as a weapon for decades.

“Y/N?” He asks, and she looks up at him.

“Mhm?”

“You said we were friends?” He repeats her words from earlier. “Why...did we stop?” A look of sadness crosses her face, and she looks back down at her hands. Bucky starts to wish he never asked.

“We didn’t.” She sighs. “But it’s okay. You’ve been through a lot and probably forgotten a lot too. Including me. It’s-”

“I’d like to be friends.” Bucky says. He doesn’t remember much, but he does know that a friend is someone who likes you, someone who takes care of you, and who enjoys seeing you, and vice versa. And so far, Y/N is one of the only people who seems to be doing that for him. Y/N looks back up at him, a look of hope on her face. Bucky feels that feeling from before again. Especially when Y/N smiles.

“I’d like that too.” Before they can say anything else, the door to the cell opens, and Steve and Sam walk in. Y/N can hear the talk about how disappointed they are in her for disobeying them from a mile off. Bucky leans forward, ready to defend his new friend at any cost from any perceived threat. “No, no, no. Bucky, these are your friends too. From before! That’s Steve and Sam.” She tells him, gently resting her arm against his chest to stop him from moving forward. Sam and Steve give a small wave each.

“What have you two been up to?” Sam asks.

“I’ve been helping him with his wounds. He’s just been left with all of these open in a cold and dirty cell! We’re going to need to speak to someone about this and get it sorted. He could do with a nice bed too. At least most of these are taken care of.”

“I can see that.” Steve says, glancing at the various plasters on Bucky’s arm and shoulders, some multicoloured. “Y/N, Stark wants to see you upstairs immediately.” Y/N sighs and gets up off the bed. If Steve and Sam don’t give her a speech about how disappointed in her they are, Tony definitely will for using his name to get past a guard.

“Bye, Bucky.” She waves goodbye, picking up her bag.

“Bye. Thanks for helping with the plasters. You know...it’s like when I was four, and I scraped my knees so my mom had to wash them.” Y/N’s bag drops to the floor again. She, Sam and Steve’s mouths drop open, and their eyes almost bulge out of their sockets.

“What...what did you just say Bucky?” She asks.

“Oh my fucking god.” Sam gasps. Bucky frowns, completely unaware of what he’s just said and why his ‘friends’ are staring at him like that.

“What?”

“You...you remembered something!” Y/N gasps.

“I...I did?” Bucky mumbles. And then it hits him. He remembered something from his childhood. From decades ago. “I..I did.” He repeats, also in shock. “But…” And the quartet realises something.

“It’s you! Y/N, it’s you!” Steve almost trips over his words. “You taking care of him helped bring something back out! This means...oh my god, we could-” Sam stops Steve mid-sentence, mainly to encourage him to breathe before he starts hyperventilating. Y/N frowns, trying to take in the weight of the situation. She did this? She brought part of Bucky back? She glances upward, and Bucky looks like he’s going through the same confusion as her. She saved him…sort of. She’s the one breaking the spell HYDRA put on him. No pressure, right?

“...Well, I guess we’re gonna have to tell Tony.” Sam states.

~*~*~*~*~

As the weeks go on, Y/N continues to pay regular visits to Bucky’s cell, trying to help him remember. Steve and Sam often pay him visits too, but Y/N sees him the most. It took a while for the trio to convince Tony that this was worthwhile...and a long lecture about how using his name to get what you want in the HQ is not allowed, even if it worked back then. Bucky hasn’t remembered many full memories since remembering his childhood injury, but he is still improving with each day and remembering fragments here and there. His speech is a lot better too. Unfortunately, most things he’s remembering have nothing to do with her, but she knows she has to be patient and can’t rush things. But that doesn’t mean that she doesn’t wish he would remember her and the things they did together, though. Keeping all these memories to herself is starting to hurt.

Y/N walks down the hallway towards Bucky’s cell. She still hates how he’s being held there, like some monster or criminal, when it couldn’t be further from the truth. As she walks down the hallway, she sees the guard she lied to a few weeks ago watching her, glaring slightly. She tries to avoid his gaze, but he still creeps her out regardless. Remembering that everyone here doesn’t always have Bucky’s best interests at heart isn’t something she wanted to be confronted with right now. Thankfully, she soon enters Bucky’s cell, glad to see him at least. Bucky greets her, finishing up his breakfast as she enters. Oh yeah, and she also pulled some strings to ensure he’s getting food and a decent place to sleep to help with his brain and memory. Even though she still wants to scream at everyone that Bucky is not a prisoner and is actually one of their friends. But she knows it took long enough to get all this, so she doesn’t want to risk having it taken away again.

“Morning, Bucky.” She smiles, sitting across from him. “How did you sleep?”

“Good. Better than before...sort of. Still having nightmares, but the bed is a lot more comfortable. Thank you for that.” He smiles, and she smiles back. Even if Bucky never remembers the time they spent together as friends, maybe starting from scratch again won’t be so bad. “So,” Bucky announces, taking a sip of his tea. “What do you have for me today?”

“Something small...sort of.” Bucky’s eyebrows raise, and she reaches into her bag, pulling out a book. “Remember this?” Bucky’s eyes scan the cover, and he shakes his head.

“Not really. It sounds kind of familiar, though.”

“That’s okay. I saw it last night in a shop, and I knew I had to get you it. You used to talk about it all the time, and it would drive Sam and Steve crazy.” She laughs fondly, and Bucky wishes he had any idea what she was talking about, because he wants to laugh like that again. “I thought it might help you remember, or just help you if you have some time to yourself and want to think about other things.” What is she even saying? Of course he has time to himself. He’s been brainwashed, lost his memory and been shoved into a cell. There’s not much he can do.

“Can, um.” Bucky begins, and she frowns. “Can you read it to me? Please?” He asks, and her stomach fills with butterflies. “If it’s okay, of course.”

“S-Sure...um, I’d love to. It’s nice to rediscover a book again. Is just now a good time?” She asks, and Bucky nods.

“Do you um...wanna go to my bed?” Bucky’s eyes widen once he realises what he said. “To sit on! I meant to sit on it. Nothing...like, you know.” His cheeks flush. The butterflies in her stomach increase. It feels like they’ve multiplied by a million. She nods, and the pair sit down on the bed. Bucky scoots slightly closer to her as she begins reading.

“In a hole in the ground, there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort. It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle.…”

~*~*~*~*~

As Y/N reaches the end of the book, she yawns, and Bucky chuckles. “Sorry. It’s just that reading this book makes me sleepy. What did you think?” She asks, and Bucky grins.

“It’s so good!” He gasps. “I think I can see why I liked it so much.” But his grin is soon gone, replaced with a frown.

“Bucky? You okay?” She asks.

“I still don’t remember the book. What if...what if I don’t remember anything else? Do you think that can happen?” He asks, his voice quieter. Y/N’s heart breaks. She wishes she could tell him for sure..but she doesn’t know.

“I-I’m not sure. Some amnesia patients, including some people I’ve worked with, get their memories back. And some don’t...also including some people I’ve worked with. It’s really a waiting game.” Bucky’s face falls. “But look at it on the bright side.” She tells him. “You get to rediscover your love for everything, or find new things that you love.” She gently takes his hands. “You can love whatever you want to love, Bucky. You get a chance to start over, a chance to be what you want to be, especially after all this. You get to be Bucky Barnes again, not The Winter Soldier. You get to find yourself again, Bucky. And I’ll be right with you the whole time.” Bucky is silent for a moment, and Y/N realises she’s still holding his hands. “Oh, um...sorry.”

“N-No, it’s okay.” He reassures her. All he can think about is how she’s not scared of his metal arm. The arm stained with blood and connected to so much violence and pain over the years, the arm that Bucky has always felt defined him as The Winter Soldier...and she’s not frightened of it. She’s not scared of him. A tear runs down his cheek. Bucky didn’t even know he was crying.

“Bucky?” Instead of replying, Bucky pulls her close into a hug and begins crying. Y/N is still slightly startled but gently rubs his back as he cries in her arms. This is not the first time she’s done this with Bucky, and it definitely won’t be the last.

“Thank you.” Bucky whispers in her ear, squeezing her tightly. “Thank you for believing in me.”

“Of course, Bucky. I never stopped.”

~*~*~*~*~

As the weeks turn into months, Bucky continues to improve and remembers more and more about his past. Unfortunately for Y/N, most of Bucky’s memories of her still haven’t reappeared. At this rate, she’s not holding out much hope that they’ll come back at all. But if that’s how it needs to be, then so be it. “Okay. I had to pull some strings to get this because Tony said you’re still not allowed to leave HQ yet, and the Smithsonian weren’t the most enthused about me filming there, but I’ve got it.” She opens her laptop. “Steve should be here for this, but he’s on a mission right now, and he insisted we go on without him.” She sighs. “Are you ready to see some of your past before you became The Winter Soldier?” Taking a deep breath, Bucky nods.

“I think I’m ready.”

“If it’s too much and you want to stop, just tell me at any time, okay? I’m right here.” Bucky nods again. Y/N presses play, and she and Bucky watch as the video plays.

“Best friends since childhood, Bucky Barnes and Steven Rogers were inseparable on both schoolyard and battlefield.” The voice over plays from the laptop, combined with clips of Steve and Bucky together from the war. Bucky’s non-metal hand finds hers, and his fingers gently intertwine with hers. Her breath hitches in her throat. Bucky squeezes her hand as a form of comfort. She feels sparks up her arm as he does so.

“I look so young…so happy...” Bucky trails off, watching himself on screen. She can tell that even though he’s glad to see more of his past, he’s still upset by seeing himself from that period, knowing what happens next and how he can’t go back and change it.

“Barnes is the only Howling Commando to give his life in service of his country.” Immediately, Y/N reaches over and stops the video.

“For god’s sake, I told them they need to change it.” She sighs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise it still said you were dead. I should’ve-” Bucky cuts her off by gently turning her face towards his.

“It’s okay. Maybe it’s better this way.” He lies. In actuality, Bucky feels like it’s better if he didn’t survive the fall off the train. “I mean...a part of me did die when I went off to war, so it’s not like they’re lying.”

“Bucky, no…” She trails off. “I want everyone to know that you’re not that...that monster. I want people to know the real you.” Part of her hair falls in front of her face, and Bucky reaches up and brushes it away with his non-metal arm. They both feel sparks as he does so. “See how kind...and gentle you are.” She whispers. She starts to feel the same way she did before Bucky was recaptured by HYDRA. She starts to fall in love with Bucky even more. Her breath catches in her throat again, and her eyes flicker upwards to his eyes. Unbeknownst to her, Bucky is feeling that strange feeling from before. He still has no idea what it means, but he does know that it only happens when she’s with him.

“As long as you know that...I think that’s all that matters to me.” He whispers, not even caring if she hears it. She does, and her heart feels like it’s about to do backflips. She swears she could kiss him at that moment. But she knows she can’t. He still doesn’t remember her that much, and she doesn’t want to dump this all on him. “Thank you for showing me the video.” He responds, giving her hand another squeeze, and she nods. His eyes flicker down to her lips. Bucky realises he’s feeling a desire to kiss her...and he doesn’t know why. But he’s strangely okay with it.

Suddenly, Y/N’s phone rings and the pair pull apart whilst she answers it. “Hello? ...No! I said not to do that because- oh for fuck’s sake! Fine. I’ll come up. ...Bye.” She hangs up and turns back to Bucky, her eyes apologetic. “I’m sorry. I need to go. Duty calls.” She sighs, placing her laptop back into her bag. “I’ll come back and see you later, alright?” She asks, and Bucky nods. “Bye!” She smiles, and Bucky waves goodbye as she leaves. Once she’s out of the cell, he sighs sadly and flops down onto his bed.

“Why can’t I remember more about her? Why do I feel like this?” He groans, placing his hands on his head in a futile attempt to remember or draw more memories out. Frustrated, Bucky gets up and paces around the cell. Suddenly, he smells something. Y/N’s perfume, still hanging in the air from when she left. It must be different from what she has been wearing these past few weeks, as he’s never noticed it before. As soon as he smells it, memories come flooding back to Bucky. Memories of him and Y/N. Memories of dinners together, of watching films and shows until the early morning hours, of video calling each other while he was on a mission just so he could see her face and hear her voice. And Bucky realises what that feeling from before is. It’s love. He’s in love with Y/N. He’s always been in love with her, ever since he saw her for the first time. He was going to tell her when he got back from his mission with Steve and Sam, but HYDRA found him and wiped his memory before he could. Bucky’s legs go all shaky, and he needs to sit down. He sits alone until Y/N returns, just as promised.

“Hey! Sorry it took so long. But I’m back now.” She smiles, placing her bag down and running her hands through her hair. Bucky looks over at her.

“You have a dress that’s a similar colour to that shirt. The dress is gold.” Bucky says. “You wore it the night before I left with Steve and Sam. We had a party, and we danced together.”

“You...you remember?” Y/N asks. Bucky nods.

“You wore that perfume too. The one you’re wearing today. You looked so beautiful. You always do.” He continues. “We were on the balcony talking, and I was going to tell you something, but Sam and Steve came and got me because we had to go. I gave you a hug, and I smelled that perfume again. It helped me remember.” Y/N comes and sits by him, looking shocked.

“What else do you remember?”

“Everything. I remember everything about you. How you love to sing along to eighties music at the top of your lungs while you drive, how you’ll make it your mission to pet every dog you see, even if you’re driving....” Y/N giggles, her eyes full of tears. “But most of all. I remember that night, I decided that as soon as I got back from our mission, I was going to tell you that I loved you.” Y/N gasps. “Before HYDRA ruined everything. And as I remembered...I realised that I still feel the same about you. You were right. I got to find myself again. And I got to fall in love with you again. I still love you, Y/N.” Her eyes widen, and she blinks at him.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Bucky. I feel the same about you too. I was trying to work up the courage to tell you that night too, but then...well, all of this happened.” Bucky takes her hands in his. “I love you too.” Slowly, she and Bucky lean in close, and their lips meet in a kiss. A kiss that’s been a long time coming, but both are glad it’s finally here. The pair pull apart, breathless but happy. “Welcome back, Bucky.” Y/N whispers.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #marvel oneshot #bucky oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #beauty and the beast au #sorta

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quindolyn · 3 years ago

Note

Hey I was wondering if you could write a sub!regulus X Dom!fem reader fic?

One where it’s angsty as Regulus had been acting different around the reader, and eventually after being questioned about it alone, Regulus breaks down and admitting his parents forced him to get the dark mark (there was nothing he could do about it), and the reader comforts him while they fuck. Regulus had been through a lot and the reader wants him to know that they love him.

Including: praise kink, subspace regulus, scar/mark kissing, aftercare for regulus, riding, and anything else you think would suit this situation <3

Resilience || Regulus Black

Word Count: 6154

A/N: Do I hate this? Yes, most definitely, without a doubt. Did I only proof read 5/15 pages. Yes, again, certainly. But I'm tired and I'm with my friend so it's not gonna get better than this. I love you all and hope you enjoy it

warnings: pretty much included in the ask, can't really think of anything else

Being light on your feet it doesn’t appear as though Regulus notices you tip toeing your way across the Slytherin common room. As you come up behind him you peer over his shoulder; he has his legs tucked beneath him with what appears to be his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook resting in his lap. Standing over his shoulder you let your eyes scan across the pages laid open and what you first believed to be a chapter on counter curses you realized was actually detailing how to cast the curse.

Realizing what you’d just read you let out a small, involuntary gasp that catches the attention of the boy sitting in front of you.

“(Y/N)!” Regulus quickly exclaims, glancing over his shoulder before slamming the book closed and sliding it into his book bag which sits next to him on the plush, green velvet sofa.

“What was that Reg?” You ask, brow furrowed as your eyes lock onto Regulus’ grey ones.

“Just a book love, that’s all.”

“Your Defense textbook?” You ask, hoping he would slide it back out of his satchel to show you the familiar scarlet cover you’d scratched your initials into on the bottom right hand corner.

“Something of the sort,” He answers vaguely, pushing himself off the couch to face you. Instead of making his way around the couch to meet you he stayed on the other side of the piece of furniture. Feet planted, hands fiddling with each other while instead of making eye contact with you his gaze seemed to be directed just past your right ear.

“Don’t lie to me Regulus,” Your voice is clipped, when you’d come to check in on Regulus after he’d come home from winter break at his dreaded family’s house this wasn’t what you had expected.

Regardless, it was what you’re met with, “What the hell is that book?”

Your voice jumps and you can hear the panic rising in it. Regulus had spent the weeks up to his departure date dreading the time he would have to spend at the Black Mansion. You’d stayed up countless nights, wishing you could somehow keep him from having to go to that hellish house but when it came down to it there was nothing either of you could do.

Finding him pouring over some dark arts book the first time you saw him after nearly two weeks apart wasn’t exactly the reunion you’d been picturing in your head. Nor was it comforting.

You can barely make it out but you believe you hear him whimper something about “it’s nothing” as his gaze drops from just over your shoulder to his toes.

You two stand there for a minute, then two, each waiting for the other to say something, anything to break the tension currently hanging heavy over the room. Regulus silently begging you to let it go, to leave the room and give him some time to stash the book before coming to find you to act as though nothing had happened and it was all fine.

Unwilling to yield, you hold your ground, maintaining your silence while your eyes bore into the top of his head, awaiting his explanation as to what you’d walked into.

You’re the one to finally break the silence.

“If it's nothing, then I’d like to see it Regulus.” It's the second time in the span of five minutes you opt for his full name instead of one of the nicknames coined by his brother, who he’d recently mended things with, and made popular by yourself. You knew it would strike a cord for him but you were scared, you were on the offensive.

With a deep sigh Regulus retrieves his bag from the spot it’d fallen to on the floor, pulling the book from the bag, bound in emerald green, Regulus hold it both far from his body and with a surprisingly tight hold, somehow both wanting it as far from him as possible and not wanting it to leave his grasp.

Though visibly ancient the book appears to be in remarkable condition, engraved on the front cover in gold leaf reads “Mendel's Most Malicious Curses”.

Studying the cover you don’t recognize the book’s title but based on what you’d glimpsed inside of its pages you hadn’t expected to. Even as a fifth year you doubt this would ever be included in O.W.L. curriculum.

Despite knowing better you can’t help but feel a strange, strong attraction to the book, an overwhelming urge consuming you to take that book. Your fingers itch at your sides as you imagine getting your hands on the book, wondering how hard Regulus would fight before relinquishing it from his grasp.

Somewhere in your subconscious you register that these thoughts are not organically your own, that somehow that book is influencing you and that in reality you want nothing to do with it. Frightened thoughts simmer at the back of your mind but they are lost in the shadows of your curiosity regarding the secrets that lie beneath the ornate designs swirling over the cover.

Expectantly you extend your arm, a nonverbal signal for Regulus to hand you the book but your movement throws him into action and has him clutching it close to his chest, both arms cradling the text.

“No no no no no,” He chants frantically, shaking his head as though to shake off the thought of relinquishing the book to you. “I can’t give you this (Y/N),” He swallowed deeply, shining silver eyes seaking out yours, ablaze with conviction.

“And why’s that?” You challenge with a raise of your brow.

Inhaling deeply he seems to be bracing himself to respond, “Because you’re a muggle born, it’s not meant for you to touch.”

You can feel rage bubbling up in your stomach, threatening to spill out your mouth in a flurry of angry words admonishing Reg for his remarks, “What? Is my simple muggle born mind not worthy enough to read words in that precious little pureblood book of yours? Do I need my pedigree intact to understand what it says? Not meant for mutts, is that it?”

You thought you were past this, you thought you’d left the aloof little third year you’d first met who’d called you a mudblood and asked you to move to a different table in the library because he didn’t want you looking at his charms homework behind.

Had the past year and a half of apologies and growth on Regulus’ part all been a lie? Was that hate not as small a part of your boyfriend as you’d thought? Did it really only take just shy of two weeks back with his biggoted relatives for him to start spewing this pureblood nonsense again?

Bouncing around in your head those questions overwhelm you as you try to ignore the most pressing one, pushing at the forefront of your mind.

Does he even love you?

“B-because you’re not a pureblood, this book (Y/N), it can’t be held by anyone not of pureblood,” Reg’s shaking voice broke through the flurry of questions wreaking chaos in your mind.

“God damn it Regulus! I thought we were past this! I thought-”

“It’ll kill you (Y/N)!” His voice is frantic and you pick up on the tears welling in the corners of his eyes, threatening to leak over.

Those words that seemed to carry a fatality in themselves cleared away the din clouding your mind, everything went silent. Too silent even as the implication of those words wash over you.

That book may as well be a gun, cocked and being held steady at your temple as you feel tears of your own begin to well in your eyes, distorting your vision.

The mess of questions doesn’t return to your mind, instead they begin thumping one by one at the base of your brain though they all carry through the same theme.

How could he have brought that near you?

“Kill me?” You curse yourself for how obvious your voice is shaking but the book that just moments earlier you were dying to get your hand on seems to have cast an oppressive air over the room and has you recoiling away from your boyfriend.

Regulus nods, holding eye contact with you as he slips the book back into his bag, sliding it under the sofa before cautiously striding towards you.

“That's why I can’t give it to you to look at, it's cursed and if you so much as bump it you’ll…” His voice trails off, the words too terrible to speak aloud.

Your arms wrap around yourself, clutching as hard as they can as you fight to wrangle your thoughts under control. His response revealed to you that he doesn’t intend to hurt you, not with the book anyways which has dozens of other worries popping up in your head. You’re desperate for answers as to what happened to Regulus at his house. He seems ready to give them to you as he offers to take you back to his dorm away from any prying eyes or ears that may lurk about in the Slytherin common room.

You’d both agreed to arrive back at school two days early hoping to get some alone time in but that didn’t mean that the castle was empty and that anyone couldn’t walk into his common room at any moment.

You stall as he lets you into his dorm, you’ve been there a thousand times, often under the mask of night but your usual spot, atop his always made perfectly bed, seems wrong now. Without answers to your countless questions the entire room feels foregin to you and leaves you standing by his desk, not quite leaning against it but also not quite supporting your own weight.

Regulus seems equally awkward but eventually settles on his bed, perched precariously on the edge of the mattress, he barely looks comfortable.

You stay there so long in silence that after a while your breathing syncs, the singular sound becoming the only noise in the drafty room.

Long after it becomes clear Regulus isn’t going to speak first and you finally tire of the silence you find your voice, somewhere deep inside of you summoning the words to your most pressing worry; “What happened at your house Regulus? What did they do to you?”

Your words have him crumbling, your usually stoic boy folding in on himself until he is but a ball hanging off the bed.

You hesitate for a single second before you’re racing towards him, dropping before him at his knees to cup his face in your palms. Directing his visage upwards to meet yours you feel your heart wrench in your chest as you take in his puffy, red eyes, red nose and flushed cheeks already marred with twin trails of salty tears cascading down his face.

“Regulus,” You choke out feeling tears from earlier resurface as you push yourself off the ground to take your place next to the scared boy beside you.

Pulling him into your lap as much as his size permits you too you take great care in cradling his head, clutching him to your chest as your rock gently back and forth humming into his hairline in hopes to calm his sobs. Raw and ragged they each tear at the fragile, brave exterior you’ve erected in hopes of comforting the boy, giving him something solid to hold onto.

Whispering sweet nothings into his ear you feel him melt into your touch, slowly the breathing becomes stronger and his sobs quiet to weak sniffles swallowed by the occasional gulp.

Feeling him shift under your touch you can tell he’s working himself up to something, he always gets fidgety when he’s trying to summon the courage to do something hard, his movement triggers a memory.

It floods through your mind as you’re reminded of a similarly terrified Regulus, knees bumping against the table at breakfast one lazy Sunday as he repeatedly bounced them, seemingly unable to sit still. He’d spent weeks working himself up to speaking to his brother for the first time in far too long.

The memory of him being so strong and brave even as the entirety of the Great Hall tracked his movement from the Slytherin table to the Gryffindor had you drawing a deep breath. The strength the memory provides you has you summoning the breath to prompt Regulus into some sort of explanation, anything.

“Reggie, your mother gave you that book didn’t she?”

He goes still at your words and even involuntary actions seem to still, his lungs draw no breath and his pulse seems to fade away under your touch.

“Bellatrix,” His voice is hoarse from crying, “Her idea of a Christmas gift.”

“That bitch,” You spit.

“Walburga’s was worse.”

You pause at the mention of her name, there is no doubt in your mind that he is the one who’s actions have sent Regulus into this downward spiral of despair and fear. You’re not even sure if you wanna hear what he has to stay but what you want stopped being important a long time ago.

“Do you wanna show me Reg?” You ask, breathless.

“No,” Comes his meak voice, “But I need to.”

You nod understandingly as you regrettably allow him to slip from your grasp so he can turn to face you, one leg tucked under his bum and the other hanging over the edge of the bed.

His eyes are downcast before he peaks them up through thick, dark lashes to meet your gaze, “Do you promise not to hate me (Y/N/N)? I don’t know if I can do this if you hate me.”

Your brows are drawn together as your response comes emphatically, “I could never hate you Regulus, I could never and I will never.”

“You can’t make that promise,” He says through a watery chuckle, leaving you wondering where the hilarity in the situation was. “I shouldn’t have asked you to.”

“Regulus,” You latched onto his hand before he could turn away from you, “I am incapable of hating you my love, please. Tell me what happened.”

Silver eyes locked with yours as though they would reveal the solidity of your promise. You’re not sure what answer he found in them but regardless he broke your gaze as he snuck his hand out of yours.

You watch as he slowly rolls up his sleeve and an idea as to what he’s going to show you begins to form and you find yourself regretting ever demanding to know what’s going on. You quickly shove those thoughts back down, there's no use in even entertaining them, ignoring your problems won’t make them go away.

Your worst fears are confirmed as Regulus rolls the sleeve of his black sweater to reveal swirling black ink sunk deep into his skin. Even just by looking at it you could feel the permanence of the ink, the meaning behind it causing a chill to shoot through your bones.

In the back of your head this had always been a possibility but not one you’d ever truly considered. You always thought that you would be able to get yourself and Reg away from everyone, from everything. Blood purity, the ministry, his family.

You were going to get out and you’d thought you’d have plenty of time, half way through his fifth year neither of you ever expected him to be forced to take the Dark Mark before his eighteenth birthday.

You were supposed to have until his eighteenth birthday.

Staring at the ink that seemed to pulse with life against the pale white of Regulus’ skin you suppose that it doesn’t really matter what you were supposed to have, what was supposed to happen. Regulus has taken the dark mark.

Godric, Regulus has taken the dark mark.

“Y-Your mother did this to you?” Your voice wobbles, anger, confusion, and terror evident in your voice, each betraying the strong front you’re trying to keep up for Regulus.

“She came for me in the middle of the night, (Y/N/N). First time I’ve ever been woken by her instead of Sirius or a house elf and she forced me up, made me get dressed before taking me downstairs and they were all there,” His voice cracks as a silent sob racks his body, you can only imagine how difficult it must be to relive the horrific events of that night. Hoping to provide him with any sort of comfort you inch closer to him, throwing your arm around his shoulder allowing him to rest his head on yours before continuing.

“They were all there (Y/N), not just her and Father. Bellatrix, Cissa and her husband, the Lestranges,” He pauses to swallow, “ And him. He was there.”

Regulus needn’t clarify who “he” was. The idea that he had even been near Regulus made you sick to your stomach and you could feel the distinct sensation of bile rising tickle at the back of your throat.

“Shhh, it's okay Reg,” You soothe, tightening your grip on him as sobs shake his body, “It’s going to be okay Red we’re going to figure this out.”

“He did this to me,” He sobs as he shakes in your lap, letting the enormity of his circumstances finally sink in after suppressing it for the past week, the fear of your response keeping him occupied.

To say you aren’t scared would be a lie, you’re fucking terrified but holding Regulus’ trembling form you know that this decision was not his. He would never swear allegiance to a group hell bent on destroying you and people like you, a few years ago maybe but not today. Not the Regulus you’d come to love, even if it began despite yourself.

Without hesitation you reach out, wrapping your hand around the skin now stained by dark magic.

Regulus let’s out a hiss at your touch and you feel him tense under your hand, afraid you’ve hurt him you start to pull away, “Does that hurt Reg?” You ask warily.

“Yes,” He spits out through gritted teeth, “But don’t let go please,” He pleads, raising his gaze to meet yours, “Please don’t let go.”

“Not gonna let go,” You promise, keeping your hold on his forearm tight.

Dipping your fingers under the strong bone of his mandible you turn his visage upwards to meet yours, heart breaking at the sadness and pain swimming in those beautiful grey eyes of his. Slowly you lean in before your eyelashes are brushing against the soft skin of his cheeks and your eyes flutter closed as you watch his do the same.

Your lips brush each other’s gently as your hand cups the side of his face, giving you complete control of the kiss as you keep the swipes of your lips light, you can just barely make out the taste of the pomegranate lip balm you’d given him as a part of your holiday gift to him.

“I didn’t wanna take it (Y/N/N),” He sniffles against your lips, “I don’t wanna be a Death Eater, I don’t wanna hurt you.” The sincerity in his voice has more tears welling in your eyes, you just can’t bear to see your beautiful boy in so much pain.

“Oh I know you don’t bubba I know,” You calm him, throwing a leg over to the other side of his lap so that you can perch yourself atop the hard smooth surface of his thighs. Gently pressing kisses along the canvas of his face you feel his arms wrap around your waist and the tips of fingers graze against your ass as his hands hover above it.

“Can I touch you please?” His words are barely audible but his desperation is loud and clear.

You grant permission as you lean forward to capture his lips in another kiss, this one more passionate than the last. Posing little, if any, challenge before letting your tongue delve into his mouth, quickly claiming dominance over his as you feel his palms clutch the globes of your ass, kneading the soft flesh as he holds onto you as tight as possible.

With care you slowly guide him onto his back as your lips trail from his down the column of his throat, in your journey down you leave sloppy hickeys along the delicate skin of his neck. Pulling away slightly you smile to see the various shades of purple and blue painted along his pretty ivory skin.

You know you’re going to have a real conversation about this later, what it means, what the two of you are ready to do about it but right now all you can think about is how you can make your pretty boy feel better, how you can show him that your love for him hasn’t changed. And there’s one way you know how to do that best.

“Do you want me to make you feel good Reggie?” You whisper against his skin as your lips ghost over his collar bone, drinking in his scent.

“Please,” He whimpers, “Need you.”

That’s all you need to hear before your hands are delving under the hem of Reg’s sweater, hands sliding against the smooth planes of his abs, your hands gliding over the occasional ridge of a long healed scar.

Sliding the hem up all the way to his collarbone you look down to see the beautiful lines of his chest and stomach. The scars you’ve become used to seeing a dark but faded pink now shine an almost brilliant purple as though the dark magic imprinted upon his arm had somehow interfered with scars caused by Walburga, most of them when he was much younger. You know for a fact that there are more ones on his back, deeper and darker from taking longer to heal.

“Come on pretty boy,” You coach, propping him up so that you can slip the soft sweater over his head before discarding it over your shoulder, “There we go, that’s a good boy.”

He lets out a low whine at your praising words as his hips thrust up towards yours which are perched directly atop them.

While removing your own sweater you smile, realizing it’s actually one of Regulus’ old Quidditch jumpers from the year prior. With no bra beneath your top your tits are left bare for Regulus’ viewing. His eyes gloss over as lust creeps into the stormy grey of his irises, they’re locked on your tits as though they’re the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“Do these hurt more than normal baby?” You ask as your fingertips graze over the raised scars on his chest, if the dark magic of the dark mark made his scars more sensitive you wanna be careful not to hurt him.

“A little.”

Frowning you lean down to press your lips against the puckered scars, your kisses light and fleeting as you trace the dark lines with your lips.

Dancing from one scar to another you hear him exhale deeply and the tension seems to be slowly leaving his body as he settles into the mattress and he becomes malleable under your touch.

“You’re so beautiful Reg,” You praise against his scarred skin, needing him to understand just how much you love him.

“I love you so much,” You look up through your lashes to see Regulus’ eyes already locked on your body.

“I love you too.”

With that your lips are ceasing his once more as you feel the overwhelming need to comfort your boy. Gently, you grind your hips up against his as you become lost in the kiss, savoring the feeling of his lips against yours before you feel a familiar bulge pressing on you.

Your hand ventures back down the hard muscle of his stomach before you bump against the bulge of his erection, straining against the soft material of his sweatpants. You palm gently over his cock as your face buries itself in the crook of his neck, giving him sweet, light kisses while teasing his throbbing member.

“Please,” Comes his choked pleas at being teased, “Please, need more.”

“Of course pretty boy,” You promise as you lift yourself off of him, giving him one last kiss at the waistband of his sweatpants before helping him ease off his bottoms and boxers.

Once he’s devoid of all clothing you too strip down so that you’re both bare naked, your eyes are fixed on the red, weeping head of his half hard cock, sitting against the inside of his muscled thigh.

He whimpers as your hand wraps around his member, pumping up and down his hardening length, brushing your thumb along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“Wanna be inside of you,” He whimpers, hands grappling for your wrist to stall your movements and pull you on top of him but all he succeeds in doing is making you stubble closer to him.

You release your right hand from his cock, instead taking his hand in yours while your unoccupied hands resumes stimulating his member.

“I know you wanna be inside of me, pretty boy, but I gotta get you hard first.”

“But I am hard,” He argues in a pretty little whine, and now that he mentions it you realize that he is harder than he was when you’d pulled him from the tight confines of his pants.

“Your cock’s so gorgeous,” You murmur watching the way he twitches in your hand, “Think you’re hard enough now, yeah?”

He nods his head, squirming as he fights the urge to buck up into your hand.

Making sure that he’s comfortable, propped up against the pillow at the head of the bed you brush away the hair that’s fallen into his face as you straddle his lap, the shaft of his cock pressing against the warmth of your cunt.

Lifting yourself a few inches off his thighs your help guide his prick to your entrance, slowly sinking onto him you allow yourself to take your time accepting each and every inch of him inside of you.

Reg’s eyes are glued to your pussy as he watches himself disappear inside of you, all the way down to his base. His eye brows furrow from the overwhelming pleasure that swims through his veins, sinking deep into his every nerve at the bliss of being completely surrounded by your warm pussy.

Pleasure shoots up your spine at the sensation of slowly becoming full, once you’ve finally taken every inch of him inside you you throw your head back, mouth dropped open as the breath is stolen from your lungs. It feels so good to be so full with him you have to remind yourself to breathe.

“Good boy,” You say breathlessly, rubbing your arms up and down his flexing arms, fists furled with the sheets between them as he too adapts to the sensation that comes with being inside of you.

“You ready for me to move?” You ask once you finally become used to the full feeling.

Desperate nods answered your question, it takes you a minute to find your rhythm but soon you’re grinding his hips against his, lifting yourself slightly off his cock before grinding back down onto him.

Your movements are slower than usual when you fuck Reg, but after the terror he’d gone through in the past weeks you’re deliberate in your gentle movements.

As your hands grip the muscles of his arms you hear him take a sharp breath, your eyes fly open, landing on his face, your movements stalling before you realize that you’re clutching the newly marked skin on his left forearm.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry,” You apologize, loosening your grip on him as your lips frace the dark lines of the ink against his skin.

Seeing that mark on anyone else would’ve made you recoil, have ice shooting through your veins as fear petrified you. While you would’ve preferred never to see that symbol of hate tattooed into Regulus’ skin it didn’t evoke its usual reaction from you. The only fear you have is fear of the future, fear of what lies in wait for the two of you beyond the walls of Hogwarts, but it doesn't matter right now. All that matters is comforting your boy, all you think about as you press your lips to his mark.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear sobs break through Regulus’ lips, quickly you abandon the stain of ink , moving to cradle his head so that your tits are right in his line of vision.

“I thought you were going to hate me,” He cries into your chest, tears wet the soft skin of your tits.

“No baby, I’ll never hate you, not ever.”

You feel the wet warmth of his mouth brush against your right nipple, gazing down you see his tongue lazily circling the pebbled flesh and you’re reminded just how cold the room actually is but pressed up against Regulus it feels like your entire body is on fire.

“You wanna suck on my titty Reggie?”

He responds with a weak nod and quickly you’re easing your nipple into his mouth, helping him find the correct angle all the while stuttering your hips against his.

“You fill me up so good Reg,” Your praise, fingers tangling in the dark mess of curls.

At your praise he begins lifting his hips in times with your thrusts, helping you as you fuck youself on top of him, wanting so desperately to make you feel as good as you make him.

“There we go, that’s a god boy.”

“M’getting close,” His words are muffled by the soft flesh of your tit stuffed into his mouth.

You too are nearing your orgasm as your clit brushes against the hard bone of his pelvis pulling a sharp whimper from you. To better grant Regulus access to your breast you’ve settled on rolling your hips in circles, ceasing the up and down movement from earlier so as to not disturb him.

A familiar tightness is brewing in your belly as Regulus’ hands run up and down your back before gripping the globes of your butt, maintaining as much physical contact as possible.

“Go ahead bubba, go ahead and cum. Fill me up pretty boy, want your cum. Need your cum. Godric I love you,” You ramble, seizing his lips again, needing them against yours as you feel him cum inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” He mutters as your cunt grips around him with the tell tale signs of your quickly approaching orgasm.

“Y’gonna cum with me baby?” You ask as you press your lips to his forehead, his mouth having once more found the plush of your breast.

“Yes,” He nods, “Please.”

You throw your head back in ecstasy as your orgasm washes over you, wave after wave of pleasure racing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm, continuing to move your hips as you simultaneously help Reg through his. Stars flash behind your closed eyelids as the pleasure building up finally releases, sending you into euphoria so intense it seems to cloud your every sense.

The second he felt your cunt squeeze around his cock it tipped him over the edge and as he lost himself in pleasure, rope after rope of cum releasing inside of you, he tried his best to match the movement of his hips to yours.

You flutter your eyes open as the warmth of his cum floods your pussy as you come down from the height of your orgasm, letting yourself collapse so that your chest is pressed up against his.

With your chests pressed so close together you notice the exact moment that your breathing syncs, feeling as Regulus’ arms wrap around your bare torso keeping you close to his body.

“How are you feeling?” You murmur against the ivory skin of his chest, keeping your voice hushed.

“Better. A little happy.”

Glancing up you catch the smallest smirk slink across his lips as he stares up at the vaulted ceiling.

“Happy?”

“You make me happy,” His eyes flicker to yours as he pulls you closer to him causing his softening prick to slip out of your tight hole. You both hiss as the cool air hits his cock and the cum he’d emptied into you begins flowing out yout pussy.

Regrettably you push yourself off of him, pulling his sweater over your head before waddling into the connecting bathroom, being ever so conscious about the sticky white mess between your legs as you wet a washcloth using warm water from the sink before applying it to the insides of your thighs. Ginger touches hastily cleaning up the excess cum before rinsing the wash cloth to take it to Reg.

“Hey pretty boy,” You coo upon reentering the room to find him in the same position you’d left him in, “You ready for me to clean you up?”

“You look so beautiful in my clothes (Y/N/N),” He responds instead of answering your question, pushing himself onto his elbows so that he can watch you, his black sweater enveloping you all the way to your lower thighs.

“And you’re just beautiful,” You smile, sitting next to him on the mattress. You aren’t lying, he looks absolutely gorgeous leaning back, mop of dark hair in tangled tresses, grey eyes glossed over, abs sheening with sweat as are his equally toned thighs. Merlin bless the poor bastard who invented Quidditch.

Dragging up his muscled legs your eyes settle on his softening member, just as pretty as the rest of him.

With care you make quick work of cleaning the cum off his cock, resting your hand on his thigh when he tries to squirm away from your over stimulating touch.

“I know baby, I know but I gotta get you all nice and clean for me.”

“Hurts,” He mumbles in a pathetic pout.

“I know it does pretty baby but look,” You say, pulling the cloth from his skin, “All done already.” Pressing a kiss to his temple you go to stand but you’re quickly pulled back down to the mattress by cold hands wrapped around the warm folds of your waist.

“Don’t go,” He mumbles into your hair as he keeps you tucked into his side.

“Just gotta go put the washcloth back Reggie,” You explain trying to slip from his hold but he’s not having it and just tugs you back against the hard planes of his chest.

“No,” He says simply before reaching over to the bed side table where he’d set his wand, mumbling a quick banishing spell the rag flew from your hand before flying into the bathroom.

Resting your head against his strong shoulder you yank a blanket from the end of the bed up to throw it around your bodies, nestled close together.

“You said you were happy Reg.”

“Mhm,” He responds with a noncommittal hum.

“What else are you feeling, love?”

You hear him take a deep inhale, as his own answer seemed to overwhelm him, “I don’t know. I’m scared, I’m really scared but not so much now that I know that you don’t hate me.”

You nod against his chest, you can only imagine how petrifying that thought must’ve been for him and you can’t deny the tug you feel in your chest at the idea of Regulus ever thinking you would hate him.

“I’m still terrified but I think I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know you’re gonna be okay Regulus, you are capable and strong and smart and the bravest boy I have ever met,” You can feel the blush radiating off of him at your words.

“Thank you (Y/N/N),” He mumbles bashfully into your hair once more.

You were telling the truth, if there was one thing that you know for certain its that Regulus is just as resilient as he has proven to be and if Walburga, or anyone else for that matter thought he was going to take this lying down. If they thought you were going to take this lying down, they have another thing coming. There is no doubt in your mind that Regulus will fight for what he knows to be true and if there was ever a point that he would have obeyed his mother’s every command without question that time was long past.

Reg isn’t to be underestimated. He’s just as every bit courageous as he’s proved to be over and over again. To underestimate him is to dig your own grave; and unlike Walburga you aren’t ready to count him out quite yet. On the contrary actually, your boy wasn’t about to take this lying down and even if it meant total self destruction, the two of you are about to raise hell.

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foreverindreamlandd · 3 years ago

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The Sergeant's Heart +Epilogue ❤️+

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Plus Size!Reader

Series Summary: Sergeant Bucky Barnes has just joined the 107th, and he’s keen on learning the ins and outs of war from the best medic in the regiment, you.

WC: 4.1k

Warnings: Hooo boy there is a lot of angst. But then, :)

A/N: In case you didn't see, this is the alternate epilogue for The Sergeant's Heart. To get a better sense of what happened with our beloved reader after Chapter 9 (and if you'd like to crying your fucking eyes out), you may do so here.

Because I put you all through enough pain, and Steve decided to throw a wrench in the multiverse with no repercussions, why can't we also benefit from it?

Also, though I don't really need to mention it, I want to say that this has been the plan since before I even started posting the series. I'm a sucker for a happy ending and couldn't rob these two of one.

Thank you for trusting me with this story, fam. I'll get more mushy at the end of the chapter, but please know that my heart is so full and I'm so happy that you all joined me on this journey. Enjoy. <3

Series Masterlist / Series Playlist

+++++++++++++

Time passed.

Not as much as you thought, though.

You had moved back to Queens and continued your work as a nurse. The pain of everything you had lost always lingered, but you learned to live with it.

You fought to survive each day, because that’s what Bucky would have wanted you to do.

Four years after you returned home from war, someone knocked on your door out of the blue.

You figured it might be your neighbor asking you to help fix their radio….again.

Instead, you opened the door to find the familiar face of your lovely English friend, a giant smile on her face and tears in her eyes.

You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to ask what had her in such a tip top mood when someone stepped up next to her.

Your vision slowly went black, and you shook your head to try and fight the darkness that was pulling you under.

“Steve?”

You collapsed before he could respond.

A few moments later, your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself laying on the couch with Steve and Peggy hovering over you with concern.

“Y/n, darling, are you okay?” Peggy pressed a hand to your forehead. You swatted her away, sitting up.

Your eyes were planted on Steve’s.

“What….how…”

“I can explain,” he cut you off with a sheepish smile. “It’s one hell of a story, though. And once I’m done,” his head turned to the coffee table where a mysterious silver suitcase sat, “I’m going to ask you to make a very big decision.”

Steve glanced over at Peggy and took her hand.

Then, he looked back at you and started talking.

+++++++++++

James Buchanen Barnes had spent 70 years of his life with a voice residing in his head.

A soft, angelic whisper that existed somewhere deep inside the depths of his ruined brain.

He had no idea who she was.

She never said anything other than his nickname. Or he would hear the sound of her laugh, echoing in the back of his mind.

Even when Hydra had him locked into that dreaded machine, filling his body with an unimaginable pain that made him crave death, he would hear her say his name.

Even when his mind was not his own, when the Winter Soldier was in control and he was just a vessel for the assassin, when the name Bucky no longer meant anything to him, he would hear her laugh.

So faint, barely there, but just enough.

His constant companion throughout decades of nothingness.

It wasn’t until Captain America found him 70 years later that he started to remember life before the Winter Soldier. When he became Bucky once again.

Each memory that returned with time felt like a knife in his gut, the realization of the monster he had become no longer something he could shut out.

He remembered Steve, his mom, his sister.

Finally, he remembered you.

It took a while for him to remember who the voice inside his head belonged to. It had driven Bucky crazy, the fact that these people who meant so much to him had come back relatively quickly, but still he knew that none of them owned the voice that stayed with him throughout his entire time with Hydra.

Once he did remember, he wished he could forget all over again, because the pain he felt when you returned to him was worse than anything Hydra had ever done.

It happened at the Smithsonian. He had decided to visit the exhibit dedicated to Steve to try and bring more of his memories back. To know more about the man behind the shield who was supposedly his best friend.

What he hadn’t expected was to see himself, plastered around the building like some sort of hero. To see his friends that made up the Howling Commandos: Dum Dum, Jonathan, Gabe, Morita, Falsworth, Jacques, and the medic with a smile that took his breath away.

No, that wasn’t it. The feeling was more akin to a punch in the gut as realization set in.

It was you. You were the voice. He knew that as soon as he saw your picture, your eyes piercing his.

Seeing your face for the first time after so many years almost made him fall to the floor as anguish and agony slammed into him.

Seeing the videos of you smiling at him, a mute laugh coming from your beautiful mouth.

The footage couldn’t catch the sound, but he could hear it.

He had been hearing that angelic sound for 70 years.

As he continued through the exhibit, head dizzy from the onslaught of emotions barreling through his mind as your voice rang through his ears, growing louder and louder with each step, he realized that the source of your voice was no longer in his head.

It was being broadcasted somewhere else. A video displayed on one of the walls. He maneuvered his way through the group of people huddled around the screen as they listened to you speak, completely captivated by whatever you were saying.

You were at Arlington Cemetery, wearing all black, speaking in front of a large crowd of people. He recognized Steve, Peggy, and the Commandos, as well as some other familiar faces from the 107th Regiment. He even caught a glimpse of his mom and sister in the corner of the screen, looking at you with tears in their eyes as you spoke.

“Bucky is- was one of the most inspiring men I had ever met. He worked tirelessly to ensure that the soldiers he led, even ones he didn’t, were taken care of. That they felt safe and supported. Most of us know how invaluable that is during war. It was so easy to look up to him because he made sure to be by your side whenever he was needed….”

Bucky tried to breathe, he truly did. It was just that there seemed to be no air left in the building. Either that, or his lungs were collapsing from all of the pain filtering through his body.

“He was truly one of the best. A genuine, strong, good man, who will be missed beyond comprehension.”

He bolted out of the building, blindly making his way down the streets to the abandoned apartment he had been hiding in, gasping for air as tears streamed down his face.

Y/n.

His love. His heart.

Gone.

Bucky had promised he would return you, only to abandon you as you lay in a hospital bed, recovering from a bullet wound he hadn’t protected you from.

Perhaps he had been a monster long before Hydra took hold of him.

Unable to face these new demons in his mind, he ran away to Europe, trying to get away from Hydra, from Steve, from anything that might remind him of you.

It was too painful.

Of course, Steve did find him again years later, and after all the shit with Tony and Zemo, he brought Bucky to Wakanda. There, he worked with a small, feisty princess named Shuri whose goal was to finally free his brain from Hydra’s grasp.

It was there that he allowed himself to finally grieve the loss of you.

Not that you were dead. Steve told him that you were in a nursing home with Peggy. That he visited you from time to time, and that he hadn’t told you Bucky was alive. He wanted to wait for Bucky to make that choice to tell you.

But of course he couldn’t face you after all he had put you through. Leaving you with a false promise of returning only to be gone for 70 years, acting as hitman for the worst people to exist.

No, it was better for you to forget about him, to spend the rest of your days happy and healthy, not tied down to his brokenness.

He wanted you to let him go forever, and he needed to do the same.

One night, he sat outside of his small cabin in the middle of an open field and he stared up at the millions of stars above. Your voice rushed into his mind.

“It’s amazing how something so beautiful can be found in such an ugly place.”

He cried until the sun was high in the sky. The first of many instances where the pain of your absence and the life he lost became too much.

Eventually, the memories brought less and less despair. The pain still lingered, but he was able to look back on the moments he shared with the woman he loved with fondness.

He would sometimes chuckle to himself when he remembered a ridiculous thing you said or the times you glared at him for doing something stupid. He would smile at the memory of your laugh, the blush that formed on your cheeks whenever he said something charming, the smile that would spread across your lips as he leaned in to kiss you.

Time passed, and Bucky was finally able to find peace. He was finally able to feel grateful for the short time he had with you.

No amount of time with you was ever going to be enough, anyways. At least now he could be able to hold onto the love he had for you. A part of you to stay with him for whatever time he had left on this earth.

Some of that time was taken away when Thanos arrived.

Five years of it, to be exact.

He wasn’t as bitter about that as he thought he would be. He had already lived longer than most people his age would, been robbed of time by evil forces outside of his control. He was used to shit like this happening. What was five more years?

But that wasn’t the case, was it? It wasn’t just him who had lost those years. Billions of people had as well, and for Bucky, that wasn’t okay.

When he returned, he fought alongside his best friend once more and helped save the world. He managed to see the end of a war, even if it wasn’t the original one he signed up to fight for.

Now that he was no longer dust particles floating in the air, it was time to go back to New York and start a new life. The Wakandans had already extended enough generosity to him. Hell, they saved his life in more ways than they could ever know. He had to do the rest of the work and move on. Move forward.

Meanwhile, Stevie was planning on going back.

Back to Peggy, back to the life he had been robbed of.

Good for him. He deserves this, Bucky thought to himself. Convinced himself, really, trying to lessen the ache of losing his best friend. Again.

Steve had already done so much, he should be allowed to be happy.

Why give up an opportunity like that?

Why shouldn’t Bucky go back as well? To find you and live the life you both dreamt of.

Why would someone like you want to live a life with a murderer? Someone who spent decades doing the worst things imaginable?

You deserved better. He hoped you had found better. A good man to give you the kind of love he was too broken to offer. Someone to take care of you, make you smile, make you laugh. Make you as happy as you made him.

So Bucky stood by Sam’s side as they watched Captain America return to the ‘40s. He gave his best friend one last sad smile before he was gone.

Sam stared at the platform, waiting for Steve to return. Bucky’s eyes were on the ground, not ready to face the fact that no one would be coming back.

“What the hell?”

Sam’s confusion compelled Bucky enough to lift his head up back to the platform.

His heart stopped.

“Who is that?”

He could barely register Sam’s voice. All he could focus on were the tear-filled eyes of a ghost.

But it wasn’t a ghost.

It was you, standing there before him.

Still as beautiful and perfect as the last time he saw you.

You stared back.

You didn’t look away as you pulled your helmet off, mindlessly dropping it to the ground.

You didn’t look away as you walked toward him with slow, tentative steps until you were only a foot apart.

You didn’t look away as your hand reached up, fingertips gently brushing a lock of his hair from his face and behind his ear.

The feel of your touch catapulted his heart back to life, and he swore everyone in the state of New York could hear it beating out of his chest.

Your eyes bore into him, and Bucky could see a million different thoughts and emotions behind them. He suddenly felt the urge to laugh at the familiarity he felt towards you. Even after all this time, after his brain was crushed into nothing and reformed into a fraction of what it had been before, he still remembered the tells of your facial features perfectly.

You were trying to think of just the right thing to say, terrified of scaring him off. Unsure of how he was feeling and not wanting to overstep.

As if anything you said was ever less than perfect to Bucky’s ears.

“Hi,” you finally said. Hearing your voice in real life for the first time in 70 years brought butterflies to his stomach. For a moment, he allowed himself to feel like he was a young Sergeant who had just bumped into a flustered, ridiculously beautiful medic with a soft, round face and captivating eyes.

“Hi,” he breathed out, and he heard your breath hitch at the sound of his voice. “How...what-”

“Call it a romantic gesture? Or absolute insanity? That or, well, you did promise that you would come back to me,” you laughed nervously and he felt tears in his eyes from hearing the angelic sound again after so long, “And I told you that if you didn’t I would hunt you down to the ends of the earth.” You shrugged. “Had I known that time travel would be an option, I would have added that to my threat.”

And just like that, the Sergeant was gone. Bucky looked away, his eyes finding the ground once more and he tucked his left arm behind his back to hide it from you. Shame coursed through his body.

His voice broke as he muttered, “I don’t think the man in front of you was worth all that trouble.”

Moving slowly and as gently as possible, you reached out and pulled his left arm toward you until his metal hand rested in yours.

“Sorry, Bucky,” his name on your lips forced a small sob out of him, “But no one gets to talk about my best Sergeant like that.” His eyes darted back to find a mischievous grin spread across your face.

He shook his head. “Y/n, I’m sorry. I’m not that young, naive Sergeant anymore. The things I’ve done -- the horrible, horrible things -- that man is gone. Whatever is left is just fragments. I’m nothing but a monster who has to live with the mess I created for myself.” He looked back at the platform, nodding toward Bruce. “You shouldn’t have left your life behind. I’m sure Banner can bring you back now that you’ve seen what I’ve become.”

Your brows furrowed, unconvinced. “Steve told me everything, Bucky.” His right eye twitched. “I mean, not everything, because we didn’t have that kind of time. But I know what happened after the Alps. Where you went, what Hydra did to you.”

You stroked the black and gold knuckles of vibranium, then pulled the hand up to your lips to kiss them.

Bucky’s head was spinning.

“I know you’ve changed, and I know you’re not entirely the man I loved all those years ago. Well, you sure look like him, for the most part.” You gingerly ran a finger through his long hair again. There was no fear when you touched him, no hesitance from the idea that he would hurt you, only hesitance from not wanting to hurt him. But even now, after years of being apart, your touch brought the furthest thing from pain. It brought warmth, comfort, peace.

“You may not believe it, Buck, but you’re still the good man I’ve always known you to be. The man I fought a war alongside with, who found a way to fight back against the worst evils imaginable when he was surrounded by it, totally controlled by it. You continued to fight Hydra even when it might have felt like you had lost every piece of yourself, and you won. Because you’re a good person. Always have been, always will be.”

He tried to speak, he truly did. There was just too large of a lump in his throat.

You pulled a hand away, suddenly nervous. “Listen, I know that regardless of what I think, this puts you in a difficult spot. I had the choice to come back to you, with way more information about how you were doing than you did about me. Hell, there’s a chance that you don’t want anything to do with me anymore.” You tightened your lips together to keep them from quivering before speaking again. “If so, I want you to know that that’s okay, Bucky. Just knowing that you’re alive and that you know I’ll never stop loving you no matter what happened is enough for me. I can go back in time and continue on with my life if that’s really what you want.”

Your eyes shone up at him. “But, if there’s even a chance that you want me to stay, I gladly would. To spend whatever time we have to build something together. Maybe not what we originally planned, but something different. Maybe something more beautiful than we could have ever imagined. All I know is that a life without loving you is not a life worth living. So whether it’s just as friends, or more than that. Whatever you want to do, I’m yours. Always have been, always will be.”

It was all too much. He couldn’t comprehend it.

Bucky had spent years trying to heal from the pain of losing you. To accept it and move forward with his life. And now here you were, asking if he wanted you.

It would be selfish to put his decades of baggage on you. Sure, you were the strongest, most loving person he had ever known, but he feared that even this was too much for you to carry.

He couldn’t willingly let you drag all of his shit for the rest of his life. It would be better to send you back, wouldn’t it?

Was that what he wanted?

No, of course not. He wanted you. That had never been a question, and seeing you now before him brought the love he felt crashing back into his soul, filling every square inch of his body. He loved you so much his chest ached.

And you, knowing who he was and what he had done, still loved him. He could try to deny it all he wanted, but he knew you. Your love for him was painted across your face, unapologetic and unyielding.

A life together would be hard. It would be scary. Hell, it might not end up happening no matter how hard you both tried.

But he had to try. He owed you that much. He owed himself that much.

So with that final crumble of resolve, Bucky slowly moved forward and wrapped his arms around your waist. You gasped, body freezing at the unexpected gesture. Then, you sighed into his body, wrapping your arms around his neck.

And for the first time in 80 years, Bucky finally felt like he was home.

++++++++++++

10 YEARS LATER

You sat on the wooden porch swing on the deck, a warm mug of tea cradled in your hands as you looked out at the sunset.

The echoing sounds of birds chirping in the trees and grasshoppers chirping in the grass acted like your own personal symphony, mixing perfectly with the soft waves in the water ahead.

It was your favorite time of day. Different shades of yellows, oranges, pinks, and purples reflected off the water of the lake, resulting in a picturesque landscape that no artist could adequately portray on paper.

You allowed yourself to fall into a trance, completely consumed by your surroundings, swinging back and forth on the bench.

It wasn’t until a lovelier sound emerged from inside the house that you were pulled back into the moment.

A lone violin, playing the opening notes to your favorite song.

Then, a metal hand was extended out in front of you. You smiled before looking up to find eyes the most beautiful shade of blue gazing into yours.

“May I have this dance, ma’am?”

“I would be delighted, Sergeant.”

You placed your hand in Bucky’s and he lifted you up to stand, taking the mug from your grasp and placing it on the nearby table. Then, his arms were around you, and your head gravitated to his chest as Frank Sinatra’s voice filled the space.

I’ll be loving you, always.

The two of you swayed from side to side in comfortable silence, allowing yourselves the sweetest sense of peace that could only be found within each other’s embrace.

With a love that’s true, always.

Bucky leaned back, lifting up your chin with his finger and smiled.

“You’re looking rather lovely today, Mrs. Barnes.”

You chuckled, scrunching your nose at him. He scrunched his back. “And you look dashing as always, Mr. Barnes.

He took hold of your left hand, kissing the diamond ring on your finger. Then, as he always did, immediately lifted your right hand, kissing the braided piece of wire on the other finger.

One would think that after years of kisses, of embraces, of ridiculously charming smiles, you would have learned how to quell the butterflies in your stomach.

But no, they were a force that could never be stopped. Not that you ever actively tried to send them away. They had been your constant companions for so long, ever since a handsome young Sergeant smiled at you so long ago, serving as a reminder that even after all that you endured, you could still feel them just as strongly as you did back then.

Bucky pushed you away, raising your arm in the air as he spun you around, then guided your body back against his.

As he moved your hands to wrap around his neck, Bucky leaned forward until his lips met yours. The two of you sighed in unison, allowing the sensation to fully pull you under.

A perfect moment, one of many shared over the last ten years.

Those years had been far from easy, but every moment with Bucky-- good and bad -- was worth it.

Suddenly, there was wailing.

“MOM! DAD! STEVIE STOLE MY MONKEY!” Jane’s voice pulled the two of you apart, turning your heads up to the second floor where you could hear her footsteps stomping around.

“LIAR! I DON’T KNOW WHERE HER STUPID MONKEY IS!” Steve bellowed in response.

You turned your head back to Bucky and met his eyes just in time for the two of you to share a soft chuckle.

Bucky looked down at your stomach, placing a hand on it as he whispered, “What are the chances this kiddo is also going to be a troublemaker?”

Your hand rested over his, stroking your thumb over calloused knuckles. “Well, given the reputation of his uncle, his dad, and….well, his mom, Jonny is definitely going to be trouble.”

He nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Neither would I.”

Blue eyes met yours once more, filled with nothing but pure affection. “I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too, Buck.”

“MOOOOOOM! DAAAAAD!” A crash echoed upstairs.

Bucky sighed. “Alright, let’s put an end to this war.”

“Hopefully no one needs a medic.”

He laughed. “If they do, I think I know someone we can call.” He pulled you by the hand as you both walked inside, Frank continuing to sing softly in the midst of whatever chaos you were about to face.

Not for just an hour,

“Oh really?” You asked sarcastically.

Not for just a day,

He turned to wink at you. “Yeah, best one in the whole damn world. Gorgeous as hell, too. I bet she might even offer a friends and family discount.”

Not for just a year,

You giggled. “Sounds like quite a woman.”

But always.

He paused at the foot of the stairs, leaning forward for another kiss.

“She’s my whole heart.”

++++++++++

The End

I don't have the words yet. Just, from the bottom of my heart, thank you. I hope you enjoy this ending as much as I do. <3

Tags: @blackwidownat2814 @enchantedamusedslightlyconfused @theokatz @maladaptivexxdaydreaming @carrotfantasimp @otbshan @toothhurtyam @itsdawnashlie @lostinspace33 @w0nderw0man91 @galaxy-dust @justsomeficsilike @magicalsimp @bunnymother93 @sometimesicanwright @multidreamerlovers @ceo-of-daichi @eclipses-and-moondust @thecrandle @alpine-loves-bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #107 regiment #plus size!reader #james bucky barnes #sergeant james barnes #sergeant's heart #marvel #mcu #bucky fic #bucky barnes x plus size!reader #fanfic #bucky #plus size #plus size character

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alcinadimitrescuwu · 4 years ago

Text

A Modest Proposal (Alcina x Fem!Reader)

Premise: You finally muster up the courage to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu. But will everything go as planned?

Note: Even though we technically don't know Alcina's middle name, I gave her Carmilla as her middle name in homage to another beloved Sapphic vampire! :)

Warnings: blood. Steamy scenes her and there, but nothing NSFW.

As you take the last steps towards your mistress’s chambers you have to stop for a minute and take some deep breaths. The other maids had taken to giving you concerned glances all morning. Your nerves had been so fraught that a plate had slipped out of your sweaty hands and broken. You didn’t mind the stares. To everyone else, this is just an ordinary day. Not for you.

Today is the day you are going to propose to Alcina Dimitrescu.

However, you have some errands to run first. For that you are going to have to ask Alcina, ironically enough, for the rest of the day off.

You steel yourself, slap your cheeks to banish any last nerves and knock on the door.

“Come in,” you hear an elegant, mature voice call.

Lady Dimitrescu is seated at her secretary, lining up accounts for the month. Her brow is furrowed in concentration. Upon clearing your throat, she takes off her reading glasses and when she sees you a smile bursts across her face that takes your breath away.

After a year and a half of courting, you could still not believe that this beautiful woman was your lover. You take in her laugh lines and dimples, her slightly puffy cheeks that she hated but you found adorable, her carmine lips freshly painted, and her blue eyes with a corona of gold around them that you found absolutely mesmerizing.

She takes your hand and kisses your knuckles. “Yes, iubirea mea, what can I do for you?”

“I would like to take the rest of the day off if that’s alright with you,” you say in a rush.

She blinks, surprised, but then smiles. “I don’t mind. After all, you’ve been working so hard lately. Have you cleared it with the head maid?”

“Yes-” Before you can say any more, in an instant Alcina has bent down and taken you in her arms with your back against her ample bosom. You feel hot breath on your neck and her curls tickle your ears as she whispers, “We could spend the whole day together. How would you like that, pet?”

You find yourself lost for words as she moves your uniform collar and begins kissing your neck. You lean back and sigh. Her perfume is intoxicating. She moves one hand to your hip and the other begins to peel back your skirt.

You would rather do nothing more than to make love to Alcina on your day off, however there are other matters more pressing. It takes great self control to take her hands off of you. A look of hurt crosses her face. You turn around and give her a chaste kiss and hold her face in your hands. “Forgive me, darling. I would love to but I have some errands to run. May I see you later? Dinner, the usual time?”

Her expression brightens and she kisses you deeply. “I’ll look forward to tonight then,” she says, tucking a curl behind your ear.

You can only nod and when you turn around, Alcina gives you a playful slap on the bum. You look back at her and she gives you a devilish grin.

Closing the door behind you, you can’t help but let out a chuckle. Alcina’s libido, it seemed, could never be satiated. As you take a step you wince and rub your behind. That woman honestly didn’t know her own strength sometimes.

You wrap your scarf around you as you leave the castle grounds. It may be the dead of winter but you find yourself sweating from nerves. The Duke catches your eye and waves you over.

“Ah, Miss Y/N! Just the lady I wanted to see. Your package just arrived.”

You feel your breath catch but nod silently. He turns around and begins rummaging around in the store. You turn around so as to not catch a glimpse of the Duke’s massive behind and you freeze. Alcina is at the window enjoying her morning cigarette. And she is staring directly at you.

You whisper to him, “Wait.” Alcina is still looking at you as she’s taking a drag off her cigarette. Smoke wreathes her gorgeous face. You give her a nervous wave. She waves back and then hears the phone ring. With a grimace, she puts out her cigarette and steps back inside.

You turn back to the Duke. “All right. It should be fine now.”

The Duke smiles and then presents you with a box slightly larger than a normal engagement ring box. With bated breath you open the box and behold the engagement ring that you have bought for Alcina.

Getting the ring had not been easy. When the Duke had told you the price for an engagement ring, especially a custom-made ring for Alcina, you nearly cried with frustration. After all, the main purpose of you working at Castle Dimitrescu was to send back money for your aging parents. When you and Lady Dimitrescu had first begun courting and she learned of your family’s financial situation she had offered to send them money herself each month so you didn’t have to work. However, your pride would not allow it. Any money sent back to your home, you wanted to come from your labors.

Getting enough money for your parents while also raising money to buy the ring had been a long and arduous process. You had begun taking up extra shifts to make up the money. There had been many nights where you had fallen asleep on the sofa with a feather duster in your hand and Alcina had to scoop you up in her arms and carry you to bed herself. But looking in at the ring within the box, you found it had been all worth it. The ring is beautiful, around 14 karats of gold inlaid with rubies forming the House Dimitrescu crest. You are sure Alcina would love it. It had taken time to get the exact measurements of her ring finger. While Alcina was asleep, you had taken her left hand often and studied her ring finger making sure the ring fit snug but not too tight. To get the crest right, you had taken to drawing it over and over again in your off time before you had a drawing good enough to show the Duke to have it commissioned.

You look up and grin at the Duke with tears in your eyes. “Duke, it's beautiful!” you breathe. “Alcina- er, Lady Dimitrescu will love it!”

He pats your hand as you slip the box into your apron pocket. “Not a problem at all, m’dear! Good luck tonight!”

With that done, you head back to the castle. You practically skip back to the gates, taking out the box every so often and peeking inside. Your joy dissipates when you realize what the next item on your to do list is.

Asking for Lady Dimitrescu’s daughters’ blessing.

When you walk in, you actually run into them getting ready to go out. Bela smiles at you as she adjusts Daniela’s cowl on her traveling cloak. “Y/N! Good to see you! Mother told us you had taken the day off.”

Cassandra pipes up, “We were just going out to go hunting! Want to come with us?”

“Actually I wanted to talk to you all about something,” you say as you look around the foyer for any sign of the girls’ mother. “Is there somewhere private we can all talk? Preferably somewhere your mother doesn’t frequent?”

Daniela’s eyes glitter mischievously. “Oooh, keeping secrets are we? Come on, I know a perfect place we can hide!”

Daniels leads the pack to the library. “Mother usually practices her singing around this time,” she says over her shoulder. “So there’s not a chance she’ll overhear anything you say.”

Sure enough, you hear Lady Dimitrescu’s voice singing an elaborate coloratura from upstairs. Perfect.

Daniela’s hands run over the panels in the wall. “Now where is it….Aha there it is!” Daniela picks up a loose panel on the wall and puts it to the side. She steps in and backons the rest of you forward.

There is no light in this room save for torches every couple meters. The room can’t be much more than 6 feet tall, so there was no way Lady Dimitrescu could fit in properly. “We used to hide from Mother here all the time as children,” Daniela winks conspiratorially at you.

Cassandra begins jumping up and down excitedly. “Now what’s the secret? Tell us! Tell us!”

You take a deep breath and then let it out. “All right...Tonight I am planning on proposing to your mother and-”

You are cut off by the girls’ cries of jubilation. Daniela runs over and gives you a big hug. Bela has burst into happy tears. Cassandra continues jumping up and down and chanting, “Bonus mom! Bonus mom!”

You can’t help but laugh. “Does that mean I have your blessing?”

“Of course!” they yell in unison.

Bela says excitedly, “The ring! Do you have a ring?”

Blushing furiously you nod and take out the black velvet box and open it. They “ooh” and “aah” and take turns looking at it before they finally relinquish it back to you. As you put the box back into your pocket, you say, “Well girls, I need to start getting ready. Please make sure not to do anything to arouse your mother’s suspicions. I want it to be a surprise.”

The girls nod their assent, but Cassandra interjects, “Do you need help getting ready? We want you to be looking your best for tonight!”

Everyone enthusiastically agrees and you can’t help but smile fondly at the girls. You may be closer in age to them, but ever since you had begun courting their mother, you loved them like they were your own children. “All right, if you insist.”

The girls cheer and Cassaandra takes you by the hand and leads you back to your room to get ready.

15 minutes before your meeting with Lady Dimitrescu you take a look in the mirror. The girls truly outdid themselves on your makeover. Daniela had curled your hair and it hung in ringlets over your shoulders. Cassandra had given you one of her dresses, a red column dress that was backless with a plunging neckline. This wasn’t the sort of thing you would normally wear, but you had to admit the silhouette was very flattering, highlighting your natural curves. The best part: it had pockets large enough to hide the ring box! Bela was on makeup duty, giving you wingtips sharper than Alcina’s claws and a smokey eye. You spritz on some rosewater perfume and head out. As you pass the hall mirror, you consider putting your hair up in a chignon but think better of it. Alcina had always liked your hair best when it was down.

When you are at the door to Alcina’s chambers you take a deep breath before knocking on the door. “Come in, iubirea mea,” Alcina’s voice purrs within.

You head inside and Alcina has her back turned on you, lighting the candelabras at the table she has set up for you two. “I’ve needed this, my love. You should’ve heard what that fool Heisenberg-”

She stops and stares at you. You can’t help but feel self-conscious as she takes you in. She finally sets the candlestick she was using to light the others back in the candelabra and heads purposefully towards you. She scoops you up in her arms and kisses you deeply, burying her hands in your curls. She breaks the kiss and strokes your cheek. “You look beautiful,” she says breathlessly.

You can’t help but blush at the compliment. “So do you,” you reply as she sets you down gently, praying she doesn’t hear the box rustling in your skirts. She takes your hand and leads you to your seat where she pulls out your chair for you. You take her hand that is resting on the back of your seat and kiss it.

Dinner proceeds as normal at first. You listen to her talk about her day, which takes your mind off the proposal for a bit. Then she puts it at the forefront of your mind when she says, “I saw you talking to the merchant this morning. Did you have anything special coming in?”

Your mouth goes dry. How do you respond to that? “Oh, no. He just wanted to chat. You know how he gets!”

Alcina purses her lips but nods eventually. “Indeed.”

Awkward silence settles over you for a bit. Then she begins talking again, this time ranting about Heisenberg and you almost sigh in relief. This is easy. You just have to listen and agree with whatever she says.

“And then do you know what that fool called me? He called me a ‘simp’ for Mother Miranda! I didn’t even know what that was. I had to ask my daughters and when they told me of course I was infuriated.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I mean, a simp? Me? Ha! Imagine! He’s just jealous because he wishes that he had half the devotion that I have for her!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you think I’m a simp?”

“Uh-huh.”

She glares at you from across the table. Damn. She’s caught you.

You stumble over your words trying to correct your stupid blunder. “I mean, no! Of course you’re not a simp! Where would he get that idea?”

Alcina leans across the table and takes your chin in her hand, forcing you to look directly into her eyes. “Am I boring you, pet?” she asks, a dangerous edge to her voice.

“Er, no! No, I'm having a great time!” you say, smiling stupidly at her.

Alcina lets go of your chin and settles back in her chair, crossing her arms. Her stormy expression can’t disguise the look of hurt on her face. “You were the one that suggested we meet tonight, darling. I can’t see why you would want to if you’re not going to at least attempt to be present with me.”

“I’m sorry, darling. I-”

She turns away from you, her large hat blocking her expression. “Maybe you should go.” She gets up and crosses the room to open the door.

No, no, God, no this can’t be happening. This is your worst nightmare. You can’t let her open the door, you just can’t.

You practically fall to one knee. “Alcina!”

“What?” she snaps, turning her head toward you. Her expression softens as she sees that you are down on one knee with the box open. Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she says so quietly you have to lean to hear it, “Draga mea, what are you doing?”

You had a big speech prepared for this. But everything else has gone to hell in a handbasket, so you might as well get it over with. “Alcina Carmilla Dimitrescu, will you marry me?”

Alcina just stands there and stares. The tears that had been building in her eyes now spill over as she kneels down to your level and gives you a passionate kiss.

You smile against her lips and break the kiss. “Does that mean yes?”

“Yes, my darling,” she gives you a watery smile and caresses your jaw. “Yes.”

With trembling hands you take the ring out of the box and slip it on her left ring finger. She lifts her hand and inspects the new ring in the chandelier light. The rubies catch the light, nearly blinding you with their brilliance.

“How does it fit? It’s not too tight?”

She beams at you, positively radiating with joy. “It fits perfectly.” She then rises and heads over to her dresser and opens the top drawer. To your surprise, she pulls out a red box with the Dimitrescu family crest on the top. She sinks to one knee and presents you with an old, but beautiful ring. It must have been passed down through the Dimitrescu bloodline for generations.

Your face feels hot and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. She gently takes your arm. “Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” She wipes the tears that have already begun cascading your cheeks. “It is tradition for House Dimitrescu to propose with the family ring to symbolize the unification of two houses. I had been planning to propose to you next week. You beat me to it, you clever girl.” She takes your hand and slips the Dimitrescu family ring on your ring finger. It is slightly larger than your finger, but you don’t care. You couldn’t be happier.

Alcina takes you into her lap and kisses you passionately. In between kisses, she queries, ”All those extra shifts you took. They were all for me?”

“Yes, my love,” you say breathlessly. “All for you.”

She stands up and takes you in her arms. You wrap your arms around her neck as she deepens the kiss, exploring your mouth with her tongue. You can taste salty tears on her lips. She carries you over to the bed kissing you the whole time and sets you down gently. She kneels over you on the bed and you rest your leg on her hip. The slit in your skirt rises up, exposing your stockinged leg. After putting her hand gently on your shoulder, Alcina begins kissing your neck. You lean back into the cushions and sigh.

You hear a low moan in her throat, almost like a whine as she kisses your pulse point. You don’t say anything; you just nod. Soon enough you feel the sharp but familiar sensation of Alcina’s fangs piercing your neck. She holds you against her body and you bury your hands in her curls, causing her hat to fall off. Briefly taking her hand off your shoulder, she slaps the hat aside like it was so much rubbish. You take pleasure in every sigh, every moan, every exclamation you elicit from her as she drinks. When she finally stops drinking she wipes her mouth and gives you a seductive smirk. “Good girl,” she purrs.

Alcina’s mouth is on yours again as she undoes your halter while you unhook her garter. She breaks the kiss and cradles your face in her hands. “Te iubesc, draga mea.”

You take her hand and kiss it while saying, “And I you, Alcina.”

The two of you make love until the sun rises the next morning.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re8 village #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #re8 fanfiction #lady dimitrescu fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina x reader #alcina x maiden #lady dimitrescu x female reader

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wolfstarlibrarian · 4 years ago

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HELLO I was jw what were your favourite fics featuring POC Marauders without the shitty stereotyping 💜

Also thank you librarian for your content. Honestly this is the top tier rec blog in the fandom due to your amazing taste.

Well THIS is a great ask! It’s nice to see fans looking for authentic diversity in fics as opposed to tokenism. Just about all of these fics have been listed on various library lists, but hopefully people enjoying seeing them listed somewhere convenient. Also, this is just a VERY SMALL selection of fics featuring Remus or Sirius as POC, so if you’re looking for more of a certain representation, just send an ask!

Also, a note to authors looking to include representation (other than their own ethnicity) in their next fic: make sure that you read first hand experiences from multiple sources, research with advocacy groups, and THEN try reach out to a peer who can potentially beta/do a sensitivity read for you. It's important that we all try and learn as much as possible on our own before asking our peers to work as our educators. ❤️

POC Wolfstar

Black James & Cuban Sirius

Be My Baby by @remus-john-lupin It’s the summer of 1963, and 18 year old Remus Lupin discovers dance, love, and even himself. (A very romantic and very gay Dirty Dancing AU.)

Latino Remus

Forget-Me-Not by @halictus-writer

For someone who just woke up with amnesia and a bad concussion, Remus Lupin isn't too dispirited. He'll get through it with the help of his friends, taking it one day at a time, as Sirius says. The only (other) problem? There's something important that he's forgetting.

Retrial by phoenixgal

Remus Lupin, host of the popular podcast Retrial, decides to focus on the case of Sirius Black, a man convicted of murdering his high school best friend, for his upcoming season. Remus has gotten too close to his subjects in the past, so he promises himself that won't happen this time.

Desi Sirius

Young Hearts Intertwined by @goodboylupin

There’s a special kind of magic to a wartime wedding.

Latino Remus & Desi Sirius

A Lucky Mishap by softiejace Of course this would be just Remus’ luck - the library printer breaking when the deadline for his term paper is coming up. And to top it off, the pretty boy he’s been running into all week is there to witness his moment of misery… but maybe he can turn things around?

Sephardic Jewish Remus

Candles in the Darkness by @miraxb

In the winter of seventh year, James, Sirius, and Remus are all carrying their own burdens and fears for the growing darkness in their world. Together, they find comfort and light at the Hanukkah celebration in the Lupin household.

Half Syrian Remus

I Tried Writing Your Name In The Rain, But It Never Came, So I Used The Sun Instead by @prefectmoony

Don’t get Remus wrong. He loves his friends, he does! Loves them to the moon and back in fact. They’re his people, his favorite part of everyday, his found family. He’d do anything for them. But the thing is that doesn’t take away from the very simple fact that his friends are fucking ridiculous. Remus knows this, has known it for five years now. But it doesn’t stop him from startling awake on the morning of his sixteenth birthday surprised by the sound of fireworks exploding in their dormitory and a raucous chorus of “Happy birthday Moony!” being shouted into his ear with jaunty gusto.

Chinese Sirius

got a fascination (with your presentation) by @alifeincoffeespoons

When Remus thought of Oxford as a child, he envisioned turrets, laughter, and an unnameable, unforgettable magic. He did not envision vomiting his breakfast all over himself while standing in the halls of St. Catherine’s College.

Cut Your Bangs by @notmycatsname

"There’s something about him that catches Sirius’s eye. His voice is a little whiny, almost off-key. Sirius has heard it time and time again in the bands that Lily plays through their speakers at their apartment but it sounds more genuine, almost heart breaking, through his voice. Remus’s voice."

Black Remus, Desi Sirius & James

Palo Alto by NachoDiablo

Modern AU set in Silicon Valley. It's easy for Sirius to ignore his mixed-up feelings while he's got Remus all to himself, but when Remus starts dating again, Sirius is forced to figure things out before Remus moves on for good. Or before James and Peter strangle them both.

Japanese Remus and Taiwanese Sirius

kavaluan (means white lily here) by @claudiafekete 1926, Taiwan. Japanese empire's prized colony. Remus needed an interpreter. Sirius volunteered.

Philippino Sirius

Problems with Narrative Structure and the Rules of Manly Engagement [+Podfic] by @xinasvoice

"There were easily six hundred people living in the Paramount building in downtown San Francisco. That was a lot of neighbors to get to know, but it only took a single day of living there for Sirius to notice Remus."

Latino Remus & Japanese-American!Sirius

Discards by @picascribit When 21-year-old assistant librarian Sirius spots a cute hipster college student at the Seattle Public Library, he just needs to figure out a subtle way of determining whether he’s into guys. But Remus’s life is more complicated than Sirius knows.

Native American Sirius

Grimsfall by @remus-john-lupin

There is a legend in the old city of Grimsfall that a large, black creature used to emerge from the forest at night, and anyone who met its gaze would be driven to madness before the thing dragged them into the depths of hell.

Mexican Remus & Sirius

A Whole Queer County Fair by @bigblackdogfic Two queer Mexican kids talking, having sex, and feeling their feelings in Arizona.

Indigenous Australian Remus

Among The Gumtrees by WolfstarGarden Sirius inherits his uncle's farm, but finding the right farmhand isn't as simple as he'd hoped: Sirius just couldn’t help but wonder if fantasising about his straight farm assistant was maybe one boundary breach too far. On the other hand, perhaps Remus shouldn’t suck on the end of his pen while lost in thought.

South American Remus

The Delegate by @wanderingbandurria

It’s 1921, and Sirius Black is a sailor that wants to prove himself as a political agitator. He sets foot in a lost, forgotten port in South America, where he’s supposed to help with the local organization of syndicalists. He’s not expecting to meet a brown-eyed man who is there to help put his words into Spanish. A man that’s really not interested in anything but doing his job. Nothing more.

Thai Sirius

Whatever Words I Say -orphaned fic

When Remus Lupin is hired to control the antics of famous lead singer of the Marauders, Sirius Black, he knows he has his work cut out for him. Sirius is contrary and has absolutely no chill, and loves pissing off the press. Remus feels up to the challenge, but he certainly does not expect to fall head over heels in love from the moment he meets the charismatic singer.

Something Beautiful -orphaned fic When Remus Lupin’s ex talks him into a drunken tattoo mistake, he goes to his friend and co-worker Lily for help. Luckily her husand’s best mate is a tattoo artist who can help with the cover up. Unfortunately for Remus, the tattoo in in a rather compromising area, and he’ll have to get over his embarrassment. Luckily for him, Sirius Black is just the man for the job.

So many fics and yet so many more to go! As always, feel free to reblog with your own recs!

#poc #wolfstar #remus x sirius #remus lupin #sirius black #desi #asian #black #Latino #mexican #Japanese #chinese #native american #Philippino #Syrian #cuban #aaaaah sorry this list got so long!

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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years ago

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

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