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writtenonreceipts · 4 years ago

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Meant to post this a long time ago...found it tucked away in my folders from YEARS ago...a Jily fic that I had too much fun writing even though its kinda terrible...

Third Year-Early October

At one o’clock in the morning Lily Evans’ eyes snapped open and refused to droop shut. She moaned and flopped onto her side. Of all the things that annoyed her most in the world being awake at unholy hours of the morning was at the top of the list.

Changing positions again she listened to the heavy breathing of Mary McDonald on the right, Marlene McKinnon’s rather loud snores to the left, and Dorcas Meadows dead center. Poor Mary was trying to battle a cold and she was losing. And Marlene’s nasal passages would never be the same since Sirius Black “accidentally” wacked her with a bludger bat at the start of the year. Dorcas insisted on continuing a practice of deep breathing exercises as it would help with remains in a deep slumber all night. Alice Fortescue was the only one who was quiet in her sleeping habits. Besides the occasional round of sleep walking. They once awoke to her trying to crawl into bed with Mary insisting it was essential to “snuggle.”

Unexpectedly, Lily’s stomach gave a small groan. She tried to ignore it knowing for a fact that an entire basket of rolls disappeared at dinner because of her lack of self-control. In her defense, however, the spiced apple butter was divine that evening. There was no way she could be hungry. It was just a protest of the awful subjection she had put her body through; it had to be.

Flopping onto her belly, Lily tried to get comfortable. Usually, she had no trouble with falling asleep. Her bed was always the perfect balance of firmness to squishiness. Keeping her eyes closed she attempted to use Marlene’s snores as a sort of white noise to lull back to sleep with.

Her stomach growled again.

This was ridiculous.

Shoving off her blankets, Lily eased out of bed, her feet hurriedly finding her slippers so they wouldn’t have to touch the cold floor. Holy hippogryphs the room was freezing. Groping around at the foot of her bed for her robe, Lily pulled it on and crept to the door. Making sure her wand was tucked in her pocket, she glanced back at her roommates to make sure she hadn’t disturbed them. After less than a minute, their usual sleep noises commenced unaltered. Alice muttered something about her love of toads, but that was normal.

Slipping down the stairs to the Common Room, Lily hoped there were no other students still awake. Thankfully as she descended the stairs she could hear nothing but the usual night sounds of the castle. Outside the wind bristled sharply. It seemed to mold with the castle as it blew but that didn’t stop it from pounding against Gryffindor Tower.

Shivering unconsciously, Lily pulled her robe tighter around her slender frame. The movement caused her hair flopped in her face. Scowling to herself for not grabbing a tie for her hair she entered the Common Room. It was always a bit eerie to see it so empty. Only a few torches were lit, just enough that she could see a few lone books were scattered here and there, an abandoned sock, a quill. Just the usual. Amazingly enough Gryffindor’s were somewhat neat. Though she couldn’t see what was stuffed between cushions or stacked on the back tables by the windows.

Settling down on the armchair closest to the fireplace Lily sighed and breathed in the lingering scent of smoke. The other students must have called it an early night, there wasn’t a bit of heat coming from the fireplace. Sighing, Lily snuggled into the chair and thought of home. They had a fireplace. A real one. Dad would have to go out and buy wood off someone so they’d have enough when it got cold in the winter. Once they went out as a family to cut down firewood. That was before Hogwarts. Before Lily was different. Her chest constricted painfully in thinking back. She missed those days. It was when Petunia still called her a friend and gave her presents for silly reasons. Now . . .

The thought came with such suddenness that her heart beat painfully in her chest. Usually she could keep these thoughts at bay. Sure, she missed home, but she couldn’t stand lingering on the emptiness that it made her feel, so, instead she pushed those thoughts away. It was getting easier now. Petunia had recently learned the art of swearing. And swearing methodically so Mum and Dad didn’t get mad at her. It was fine, Lily justified. Petunia was just stubborn.

Her stomach grumbled again.

“Oh for Agrippa’s sake,” she said under her breath. Sure, she was a thirteen-year-old witch that was having a growth spurt, but being this hungry this early in the morning was ridiculous. Glancing around the room she tried to locate a stray candy or maybe someone had left their bag with a snack inside. No such luck.

She could find the Kitchens. Lily could feel her eyes widen at her own thought.

But it’s after curfew.

You don’t even know where the Kitchens are.

And it’s really dark in the castle. What are you? Five?

Having almost made up her mind to just die of starvation up in her bed a loud scrape caused her to jump. Pulling her knees into her chest, Lily glanced around. You are fine. Calm down. There’s probably a bat outside or something. Something scuffled noisily. That was definitely from inside the tower. Perking up Lily did her best to hone in on the sound. Her stomach rumbled again. Quickly the patter of feet ran down the stairs from the boys’ dorms. Peaking over the top of the chair Lily couldn’t help the audible groan escape her lips.

“Potter.”

Yelping in surprise the boy with unruly hair and crooked glasses locked eyes with her.

“Evans?” He whispered loudly.

“No, it’s McGonagall,” Lily snapped, a scowl seemed permanently forced on her face whenever she was around him. But, curiosity couldn’t keep her at bay as to why he was awake. Sitting up on her knees to face him, Lily crossed her arms. “What are you doing?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he responded. He crossed his own arms and glared at her with the same malice she was sure was in her own eyes. The torch just by the stairwell reflected sharply off his glasses, but Lily could catch a small smirk playing on the edge of his lips.

Sighing Lily pulled on an ear lobe. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Me neither,” he said. His pajamas were mismatched and too small. She caught the pattern of a Quidditch player across his chest and snitches splattered everywhere else charmed to fly around. There was a little skin exposed between the edge of the shirt and the bottoms, which hung at least two inches above his ankles.

They were quiet for a few moments until James cleared his throat. “Sorry about turning your hair blue.”

Lily’s scowl returned. “If you were sorry you wouldn’t even have been aiming your wand at my head in the first place.”

“Accident,” James sputtered, Lily could see color springing up on his cheeks. “I was aiming for Sirius.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ah well,” the boy replied, his cheeky arrogance returning as though it had never left. He took a few steps toward the Portrait Hole. “I gotta go find chocolate for Remus.”

“Didn’t he go home for the weekend?” Lily asked scrunching her nose. She could have sworn she saw Professor McGonagall escorting him from the Common Room earlier that afternoon.

“It’s for when he gets back, obviously,” James rolled his eyes. His glasses slipped down his nose

Harrumphing, Lily climbed off the chair and walked over to her classmate. He’d gotten taller over the summer and throughout the start of term. Most of his robes hung at least two inches above his ankles, just like his pajamas. He easily stood a head over her. She did not like this new development.

“Where do you plan on finding said chocolate?” She asked trying not to sound hesitant. She couldn’t believe that she was going to him for help with her hunger issue. “There’s none left sitting out, I-I checked.”

He let out a laugh, mirthful and amused. “Wanting to snatch from other’s things there Evans? For shame. But, as fun as that would be, there is a lovely place called The Kitchens that would have everything a hungry stomach could want.”

“Who said I was hungry?” She almost shrieked. But just then (of course it was then) her stomach let loose another growl that could have given a dragon a run for its money.

Grinning James gestured to the Portrait hole. “After you my fine red-headed accomplice.”

“It’s after curfew,” she reminded him, ignoring the fact that barely ten minutes ago she was about to head out into the castle herself.

James shrugged. “All the more fun.” His dark eyes glinted at the prospect.

Don’t do it, a voice that sounded a lot like Mary said in the back of her head.

If it means chocolate, Marlene’s rational butted in. Plus Potter is decently fit. Even with that bare bit of skin you saw, no fat there. Shut up Marlene. Although technically that was Lily’s own consciousness.

“Bah,” she said aloud and tossed her hands up. “Fine. But if we get caught, I have a wild imagination and I will pin everything on you.”

“That’s the Marauder spirit,” James grinned a hand running through his hair.

“No.”

“What?”

“Don’t you dare call me a Marauder, or your accomplice, or fine for that matter.”

Pouting James made a pleading motion. “Just for tonight, our little secret.”

“No.” She said again. “I will change my mind about coming with you.”

Her stomach did not agree with that announcement.

“You’re going to wake up half the castle unless you eat, Merlin, Evans,” he grinned cheekily.

Pulling her wand on him, Lily glared him down. “I will use this.”

He pushed his glasses up his nose and gestured for the Portrait. “C’mon, or else Sirius will get up, see I’m gone, and try to come with us. Than we really will get caught.”

Pulling at her bathrobe Lily gave a look over her shoulder back at the staircase that led up to her nice warm bed. Another feeling of doubt came over her. James made an annoyed sound and practically stomped his foot. He would never let her forget if she didn’t go with him. Tying her robe closed (oh Merlin it was her ratty old one with singes all over it after a mishap last summer involving Petunia, muggle garden gnomes, sparklers, and an innocent by standing cat). With as much dignity as she could muster, Lily marched in front of James and out of the Common Room.

It was strange seeing the corridor like this; void of students milling about and very few torches to light the way. Lily felt a bit of awe at this new perspective of the castle. When the Fat Lady swung shut behind her Lily turned to face Potter. He had a look of expectancy about him. That or he’d just realized he needed to use the loo.

“Well?” Lily asked crossing her arms.

“Well, what?” James scrunched his nose confused.

“The Kitchens!” Lily hissed. It took all her effort not to scream at him.

His eyes widened and he bobbed his head a few times. Lily started a list in her head of how she could kill him, or get him expelled. “Ah, yes. Evans, I don’t know how to tell you this, but I lied to you about knowing where the Kitchens are.”

She stared at him blankly. He scratched his nose. Pursing her lips, Lily got to number ten on her list (less than a minute, that had to be a record). It was especially special seeing as it would both kill him and get him expelled. Alas, she had no way of getting a chainsaw into Hogwarts.

They stayed like that for a few moments longer until Lily punched his shoulder as hard as she could. He squawked in surprise leaping to the side.

“Careful Potter or you’ll wake up the whole castle,” she mimicked looking up to the Fat Lady…who was noticeably absent from her portrait. For the love of Gryffindor.

“Oh dear, that’s terribly awkward,” James said mildly. He didn’t sound the least bit concerned about the predicament, nor very keen to find a solution.

Trembling with a mix of rage and annoyance Lily rounded on him. She felt like she could burst into tears at his stupidity. Never mind hers. It was his fault. He had dragged her into this. “Fix it.”

“Unfortunately there’s not much to do,” James shrugged. He pulled his wand from his pajamas pocket and cast Lumos. “May as well explore, shan’t we?”

Shaking her head quickly, and rather violently, Lily’s hands balled into fists. “I am not going anywhere with you, you, you pigheaded toerag!”

Her goads only caused a grin to spread across his face. In the light of his wand the expression was frightening; in the sense that it looked impish and overly pleased at the situation. Before he could say anything, a noise sounded down the corridor and the undeniable yowl of a cat.

“Please tell me that was Elvendork,” James said frantically waving his wand around.

“Who in the world is Elvendork?” Lily asked as she tried prying on the Portrait Hole praying to whoever would listen that it would open.

“Your cat.”

“My cat’s name is not Elvendork. Besides that’s a name for a male cat, mine’s a girl.”

“Elvendork is a perfectly unisex name.”

“Potter.”

“C’mon, if that was Mrs. Norris, Filch’ll be just behind her.” Without waiting for a response, James grabbed Lily’s hand and pulled down the corridor and through a hallway she wasn’t familiar with.

Losing track of the turns and stairwells they took, Lily felt as though her lungs would explode. Finally, James came to a stop. Dropping her hand, he glanced around the new corridor they found themselves in. Doubling over Lily gasped for breath clutching her midsection. Running on an empty stomach was not a good idea.

“Where are we?” she asked him as soon as a bit of air returned to her lungs. Not answering, James held his wand up and examined the corridor, there were many pictures clamoring about despite the late hour, even fewer torches graced the walls, and a distinct cold draft made Lily regret not putting socks on with her slippers.

“I don’t know,” the black-haired miscreant murmured. He continued muttering under his breath, examined the portraits and pressed his nose up against a window to get a view outside. “Ah. Fourth floor it seems. North end, I do believe the Hufflepuff Common Room is somewhere around here. Interesting. I didn’t know this hall existed. Evans, do you have bit of parchment?”

Still breathing heavily (which was an utter embarrassment seeing as he was doing just fine) Lily glared at him in a way that she hoped would emulate the effects of a Rash Growing Hex.

“And maybe a quill?” He ignored her heated glare and continued to look about, memorizing the corridor.

“I do not have any of those items I’m afraid,” Lily said combing her hair back as best she could. “And you are mistaken as to where we are, Hufflepuff’s Common Room is down near the first floor and dungeons.”

James’ eagerness fell. “Oh. But—I thought. . . Oh well. That’s disappointing. I heard their Common Room is right next to the Kitchens.”

Yanking her hands free of her bedhead hair Lily gave James a pointed look. “You heard the Hufflepuff Common Room is right next to the Kitchens?”

“Yes, that’s what I just—oh, I see,” James nodded slowly and rubbed his chin. “Well, as long as that’s sorted out, can we check out this corridor a bit more?”

“I hate boys.” The redhead while pacing in front of a dreadful depiction of Salazar Slytherin (a Gryffindor probably had a good time with that one). “No Potter we will not check out the corridor! Filch or Slughorn or McGonagall- McGonagall. Oh Merlin she will expel us for sure.”

“Relax Evans,” James drawled as he peaked around a statue. “We just tell her you were hungry. She can’t be mad at you for that. Aren’t you the one who is always saying that being honest is the best quality one can have?”

“Yes, I’m sure McGonagall we take you seriously and believe you were helping me find the Kitchens,” Lily muttered under her breath. James had already lost interest with her worrying and seemed intent on memorizing the layout of the corridor and where they were in relation to the ground. “Potter! Can we focus on the one task at hand and get me some food?”

“I need to focus?” He yelled incredulously. Ignoring Lily’s screech to “shut-up before someone hears,” and brilliantly dodging her swats, James shook a finger at her. “Which do you want Evans? Food or to not be caught?”

“You are insufferable.”

“I do try,” he said with a wink.

Lily blanched. Holy hippogriff I need to get out of here. Deciding that it would be better to fend for herself in the dark castle, even if she still got lost rather easily while navigating around, Lily turned on her heel and headed back in the direction they came from.

“Not that way!” James hissed lunging for her just at the same time another voice broke out at the opposite end of the corridor.

“Minerva I’m telling you, there are students out of bed,” the wheezened voice of Filch echoed down the hall.

“I’ve just come down this way not fifteen minutes ago,” McGonagall’s crisp voice came shortly after, and it was growing closer.

Lily didn’t need James to pull her back, she was already scrambling that way, yanking on the collar of his shirt. They collided roughly with a pillar, but neither made a sound, they only waited anxiously as the footsteps of the Professor and Caretaker came closer. When James tried to speak, Lily shushed him angrily.

“At least wait until after Halloween feast to kill me,” he was leaning to close into her as they tried to be as small as possible, “it’s always the best.”

It didn’t merit a response. Lily instead continued her list on possible death accidents that could occur in the castle. If that draft would just stop chilling her to the bones. Her thoughts stopped. James continued lamenting the loss of sweets and turkey he would miss out on if she killed him that night.

Smothering him with a hand Lily pressed her lips against his ear. “There’s a draft, it has to be a secret passageway.”

Immediately the boy leaped forward, slightly amazed at how quiet he was, Lily could only watch him lean against the wall, tapping it gently with his wand. With her heart pounding in her chest Lily couldn’t bring herself to move. A sudden rush of air caught her attention.

“Evans, get over here,” James whispered. Not needing to be told twice Lily spun around and had only enough time to realize that James Potter had managed to open a towering entry way in the corridor without much more that a huge gust of air.

“What?” Lily squeaked out.

“Admire my handiwork later, get in!” James responded pushing Lily into the secret passage. Stumbling forward Lily plunged into the darkness. Behind her James muttered a spell and the stone wall closed soundlessly.

Neither said anything, neither moved. After a moment, Lily realized she was holding her breath and very slowly released it. Stale air greeted her lungs on the inhale and it took all her effort not to break out in fits of coughs with the dust that coated the inside of her mouth. It was nasty, even worse than when she had to help clean out her aunt’s attic after she died.

The sound of James’ shuffling feet made her turn, though the passage was a smothering sort of black that Lily didn’t think her eyes would ever be able to see again.

“McGonagall’s yelling at Filch for getting her out of bed for no reason, it’s fantastic,” James sniggered from beside her. “Well, hope you aren’t scared of the dark Evans.”

“Lumos.”

“Ah, yes.”

Sometimes Lily wondered if James was more interested in the reactions he garnered from others than taking care to watch what he said.

In silence Lily led the way down the passage. It was a good thing her mouth was so full of dust and other disgusting tastes otherwise she would have hexed him then and there. The light from Lily’s wand was enough so they could avoid tripping in cracks and large rocks in the way. James remained several steps behind examining the passage as they went. He muttered under his breath but Lily was never able to catch any of it.

As they walked Lily could see changes in the structure of the walls, there were parts that seemed quite old, especially as they traveled farther down. Most of the rock and stone used in the construction was different than that of the rest of the castle. Granted the were walking inside the walls. How had she not known this existed? It was a magical castle founded by witches and wizards.

Suddenly, James began chuckling to himself. Pointing her wand in his direction, Lily raised an eyebrow. “What? Did you come up with another pun to make out of the naming of the planets? Or better yet another cruel name to call Dorcas?”

“Technically, Sirius was the mastermind behind both of those items,” James said quickly ducking out of the glow of her wand. “I’m not that cruel.”

“I beg to differ,” Lily muttered so quietly she wasn’t sure he even heard. Clearing her throat, she cast her gaze forward. “Then what is so amusing?”

A hand immediately went into his hair, both continuing to scruff it up and shaking out mounds of dust that he’d collected on their journey. “I just never thought I would be able to get the Great Lily Evans to break the rules.”

“Oh, I’m not breaking the rules,” Lily replied. “I have a perfectly good reason to be out of bed. It is completely unethical to starve a student; therefore, I should be allowed to find food in a desperate situation. There’s an exception that allows the rule breaking.”

Yawning loudly, and not at all convincingly, James cut her off. “All I heard is, “I am Lily Evans, I know the difference between brewing a Pepper-Up potion and a Sleeping Draught. Therefore, I can do whatever I want.’”

“I do not sound like that,” Lily scowled at him. “And that is not what I think about myself.”

“Whatever you say Evans,” he shrugged. “Besides, there is a flaw to your plan; if caught you would be caught with me, and no one would believe your innocence then. I am the anti-alibi.”

He seemed so proud of himself for the reputation he’d received, that Lily almost wanted to admit defeat. Almost. “Well, of course I’ve taken that into consideration. I would just throw you under the bus.”

“What?” Rather confused at the phrase James looked head on into the light emanating from Lily’s wand. “Gah!”

Pleased on both accounts of his outburst, Lily chuckled and lowered her wand. Only a little. “It’s a colloquialism Potter, a phrase. Like, “throw you to the wolves.” Just that I’d let you take the blame.”

“Throw me to the wolves all you like,” replied the young man with a smirk. “I’d fair rather well.”

There was deeper meaning to that, Lily was sure, but she wasn’t sure she actually wanted to know it. “Anyway, as you said, no one actually believes you would be innocent in anything mischievous. Thus, if we were to be caught, I would merely be seen as an innocent bystander.”

“You know,” James said as they followed a bend in the old corridor. “It seems to me a miracle that those girls spend time with you. Is this how you treat everyone suck the fun out of them like a dementor?”

The words hit her with such a force that Lily had to stop walking. A shudder rippled through her body and she felt it clamp down on her heart, squeezing it like a wet rag. He didn’t know it, but it that moment all Lily could see was her sister Petunia standing in the kitchen only setting three placemats on the table, telling Lily that a freak like her was sure to suck the life out of the room. It happened the night before she left for school, and she hadn’t wanted to cry about it, until now.

Potter had made it a decent ways down the corridor before he was about to leave the light of the wand. After he realized that Lily was no longer walking behind him, the young boy glanced around and finally saw her standing back, a deep frown etched on her face, her wand arm lowering bit by bit, as well as the light. Without saying anything, she narrowed her eyes at him and turned on her heel.

“Evans, c’mon!” James called after her. He fumbled for his own wand and tried to light his way, stubbing his toe on an uprooted tile, he cursed and swore as he tried to catch up to the other Gryffindor. “You aren’t seriously mad?”

Lily whirled around to face him with such force, the boy had to scramble back to be clear of smacking into her. “What does it look like Potter?”

“You are mad,” he said quietly.

It was in that moment Lily realized that he had never actually had anyone be mad at him before. Sure, she would see and his mates have scuffles, but nothing like the way Lily projecting towards him in this moment. In a way, she could pity him. But the way he oozed confidence even now in the full fury of her angry gaze drove that thought right out of her head just as soon as she thought it.

“Yes, I am. You called me a dementor! I don’t know how thing usually work in your fancy little pureblood world, but calling people names like that is rude and doesn’t do well to make friends. And yes, I am mad. Mad enough to say that you belong in Slytherin.”

They both stared at each other for a long time. Lily’s chest rose and fell and the fury built up within her, she could feel her fingers tighten with rage around her wand. Potter scowled at her, his lips twitching as he tried to think of something to say.

Shoving his glasses up his nose he crossed his arms. “You create an interesting paradox there, Evans. Based on the way you value friendship, if I were in Slytherin, you and I would be quite chummy wouldn’t we?”

Deciding that his comment didn’t merit a response, Lily turned away from him with such fury that she almost lost her balance.

“Evans,” Potter tried again. “The corridor ends just up here, I promise. C’mon.”

It took a moment before Lily turned around and slowly made her way to where he was. She kept her mouth firmly shut. True to his word after a few dozen steps, they came to the end of the corridor. Stepping forward, the young Marauder placed his wand against the stonework, a moment passed before the stone began moving in a slow way, silently easing open to a decent sized crack they would easily be able to pass through.

Lily passed through first and stepped out into what certainly looked like it was near the dungeons. The torches were always larger and closer together in the dungeons. There was always more of a distinct draft.

“Excellent,” James said coming up behind Lily. “I know just where we are.”

Pointing her wand and the newly formed escape route, Lily closed the way off and glanced down the hall. “Which way?”

“I thought we weren’t speaking to each other?” James replied mildly as he took his glasses of and buffed them on his shirt. “Seeing as how I am a Slytherin.”

Unable to look at him, whether out of guilt or annoyance, Lily wasn’t sure. She pointed down one way and decided to take the shot. “Seeing as how you’ve been little to no help tonight.”

“I literally opened a wall and saved us from Filch and McGonagall. All without throwing you under a bus as you say it.”

“Yes, you’ve been so helpful,” Lily said as she began walking. While they weren’t in the complete bowels of the dungeons, Lily still felt unease as they walked. It was always down here that she’d had bad experiences with Slytherin’s, and it was down here she highly doubted any professor would show mercy for students being out of bed. Even if they were hungry.

“You’re being sarcastic,” James scowled from beside her.

“You’ve finally understood the meaning of the red hair.” Lily laughed dryly. She shook her head, lips pursed as she considered what to say. “Honestly Potter, you got me locked out of Gryffindor Tower, dragged me around the castle on the run from Filch. And you haven’t delivered on your promise of getting me food.”

“I didn’t coerce you to do anything,” James reminded her. “You left the Tower of your own free will.”

“You still haven’t gotten me any food.”

James laughed running a hand up to his hair. Rolling her eyes Lily wondered why he always did that. She hadn’t noticed it until the start of this year really.

“If my sense of direction is correct, which it is, we should be nearing the kitchens on the left.” James finally took off down the corridor leaving Lily to sprint after him. Her feet were too loud for her liking upon the cold stone floors.

“What are we looking for?” She asked when she reached him again. James gave her a side look, eyebrow quirked. “Oh please, it’s Hogwarts, there’s got to be a strange magical way to get into the kitchens.”

James snorted, shaking his head muttering something under his breathe, Lily caught something along the lines of “too damn smart.” Aloud he acknowledges her observation. “Right you are my dear—” he dodged a swat from her, “rumor has it that there is a portrait we are looking for.”

“What kind of portrait?” she asked. There were plenty lining the walls, many of figures she didn’t recognize, most were asleep.

“It’s the Kitchens, take a wild guess.”

“See, this is why no one likes you,” Lily muttered looking down a corridor that branched off. She expected to see Filch teetering down at any minute wagging a craggily old finger at them.

“Oi!” James squawked offended. “There are plenty of people who like me.”

“Oh yes, your mother, of course.” They were coming up on a large painting, stretching at least twelve feet up the wall. It was a giant fruit basket. Lily stopped and stared at it, slightly amused. It couldn’t be could it?

“I think we have a winner,” James announced standing beside her. He aimed his wand at the portrait, nothing. “Oh come on then!”

Lily’s stomach grumbled. Scowling at James she tapped a foot. “Well Mister High Adventurer?”

“Get your stomach under wraps, Evans.” James returned the scowl. “I don’t see you helping out.”

“You assured me that that you could get me food, so I assume you can figure this out on your own,” Lily tucked her hair over one shoulder, her fingers catching in some knots.

“I take that as a compliment.”

“How on earth is that a compliment?”

“You said I could figure out how to break into a top-secret lair. Blimey Evans, it’s like being called Merlin himself.”

“I would hardly call the kitchens a top-secret lair, and that in no way relates to being Merlin or anything else of higher power. You’re a pigmy puff in comparison.”

“Hey!”

“Shush!” Lily pointed a finger at him, glaring menacingly. “Hurry up we’ve been out here—”

There suddenly came the high-pitched yowl of a cat. James and Lily froze glanced at one another and then down the corridor. Sitting beneath a torch was a cat. A rather fat cat.

“Elvendork really needs to go on a diet Evans,” James whispered, though Lily could hear a twitch in his voice.

“For the last time, my cat’s name is not Elvendork,” Lily snapped back. Her heart beat out of her chest with great anxiety. “And that is not my cat.”

“STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED!” Peeves the Poltergeist came swinging down the corridor screaming at the top of his . . . lungs? He technically wasn’t a ghost, nor was he alive so he couldn’t have lungs, could he? Lily didn’t have time to think about the actual answer as James pulled her down the hall.

“Now’s not the time to day dream Evans!”

“I wasn’t,” she began to argue back, but lost her words as James took her hand tightly in his own to guide her through the castle.

Peeves, somewhere behind them continued to make a ruckus, Mrs. Norris meowed again, too close for Lily’s comfort. Losing track of where they were, James finally came to a stop in front of a wall that somehow looked familiar.

Waving his wand, James breathed heavily as the wall moved reveling a doorway. “This’ll take you back to where McGonagall and Filch nearly had us. They’re going to be coming down here any minute so you should have a clear shot to the Common Room.”

“Lumos, what are you going to do?” Lily asked. It wasn’t as though she wasn’t entirely concerned for his safety or well-being, but she really didn’t want to slink through the walls of the castle on her own.

“Remus really likes chocolate,” James winked in the flickering torch like and pushed Lily into the secret passageway. Right behind her the wall quickly replaced itself.

“I’m still hungry!” She shouted even if he wouldn’t hear her. Bloody Potter. Oh she would murder him. She thought of her list from earlier as she began walking. Without realizing it, she was talking to herself. “Oh yes, perhaps a sledgehammer. Combined with the giant squid that’d work wonderfully.”

Moving quickly Lily found herself at the other end of the passage in no time. Carefully she eased out of the wall glancing around to be sure Filch wasn’t standing guard. When she felt sure the way was clear Lily stepped out into the corridor tapping the wall with her wand. Silently, the passage disappeared.

With no idea where she was, Lily held her wand in her palm. “Point me.”

Thank Merlin she paid attention in Charms. As loud as she dared, Lily ran through the castle, stopping only twice to catch her breath, and mutter a curse at Potter. Hopefully he got caught, maybe they’d make him have detention in the Forbidden Forest. No, he’d probably like that. Or perhaps something involving flobberworms. Yes. That was better.

Finally reaching Gryffindor Tower Lily gasped out the password to the Fat Lady (thankfully she’d returned). Either to sleepy or surprised, the Fat Lady said nothing as she swung open. Relief flood through Lily as she clambered through the portrait and made a mad dash to the Girl’s Dormitory.

Once in her room Lily finally seemed able to breathe. Shuffling through the dark, Lily found her bedside table, in the moonlight she saw that it was nearly three. Moaning, Lily added a possibility of disembowelment to her list. She’d decided to call it The Unfortunate Demise of James Potter. It had a nice ring to it.

Setting her wand aside, Lily didn’t bother to take off her robe and got into bed, and was only slightly surprised to find another inhabitant snuggled among her quilts. Chuckling softly, Lily pulled her blankets gently over to her side. Alice made a small protest of “snuggling is mandatory,” before breathing deeply. Still chuckling to herself, Lily’s eyes drooped shut as she, indeed, snuggled up to her friend. Only as she was on the cusp of dreams did she think; did James get caught?

.*.*.

Giggling like a maniac, James Potter dashed among suits of armor, a small sack of fudge clutched to his chest. Behind him he heard the haggard gasps of Filch trying to keep up. Peeves wasn’t making things any easier, but at least McGonagall was nowhere to be found.

As James ducked into another passage, Peeves was right there cackling madly. “It’s a mouse! It’s a mouse!”

“C’mon Peeves, help me out!” James pleaded between pants. The poltergeist made no response besides a howl of glee swooping about.

Groaning, James didn’t dare stop to catch his breath as he stumbled down another corridor. He had spent the better part of an hour running through the dungeons, dodging Filch and cursing Peeves. By a miracle he’d managed to make it to the fourth floor, but now he was trapped. Well, not trapped per say, but he couldn’t remember where there was a passage to duck into or not. Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten rid of Evans. Nah. She’d have made this at least ten times worse.

Did he dare tuck away into a broom closet? Perhaps an old classroom. He was too turned around to know for sure where he was.

A left. A right. Two more lefts and he was at a stairwell.

“Merciful Merlin,” he whispered.

Without another hesitation James began scrambling up, only stopping when he heard Filch at the bottom. Thankfully there was a bend in the stairs that kept James from view, his shadow was scarce in the torches. Filch muttered something under his breath but he made no effort to climb the stairs. A long breath left James’ puckered lips.

He stayed where he was though. No reason to underestimate Filch. Not now. Even Peeves lost interest in the chase, giving one last raspberry to the empty air; the Poltergeist darted off. When he was sure he was alone, James came down the stair he’d climbed up and hurried to find another way to Gryffindor Tower.

As he rounded a corner and came within sights of the Fat Lady, James was finally able to breath proper when a cat gave a, affronted meow. Cursing, James spun about twice before his eyes landed on a tabby cat sitting in a window sill. It looked vaguely familiar that James figured it had to be Lily’s.

“Elvendork,” James said cheerily, still a bit breathless. The cat gave him a pointed look as though it were questioning him on why he was out at this hour. “Oh don’t give me that.” He hefted the bag of fudge. “I needed to get something for Remus when he gets back.”

Plucking out a square, James chewed thoughtfully as the fudge melted in his mouth. Elvendork made a noise, nudging James with a paw.

“I went through a lot of trouble, I deserve at least one square,” James defended himself. “I’d offer you a piece, but I don’t think Lily would appreciate me feeding her cat fudge.”

The cat made no sound but seemed to glare at James with tired eyes. Blinking, the young man popped the last bit of fudge in his mouth and chewed quickly. The cat was creepy, just a bit.

“Well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” James said hurrying away from Elevendork.

He would swear later that the cat laughed as he woke the Fat Lady up to enter the common room. If he’d paid closer attention though, he would have noticed that the cat was not Lily’s dear “Elvendork.” He would have noticed that this cat had distinct square markings around its eyes.

Safe in his dorm, James fell into his bed, pleased at the adventure he’d had and already thinking of the paths he had taken and where the secret passages lay. As his eyes drifted shut he wondered what would happen if Lily Evans knew he’d been lying. He’d known the whole time where the Kitchens were and how exactly to get into them. A small smile crossed his lips as sleep over came him. It was the longest they’d ever spent together without her hexing him.

“Progress Sirius, progress,” he muttered sleepily.

“Don’t wanna know,” came a muffled reply.

#jily fanfic #jily fanfiction #James Potter #Lily Evans #mauraders #mauraders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #jilytober #Harry Potter #i'm sorry it's kinda bad but i just kept writing and now have to post it

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crocodilenialledfics · 4 years ago

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story page // masterlist // wattpad

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Ten: where did our love go?

word count: 4261

warning: This chapter contains mention of mental illness and violence

“Well a lot of people thought you two were like...” she trailed off with a laugh. “It’s so ridiculous. They thought you two were like lovers or something. I said that was completely...” her humorous tone faded.

Niall knew his face had given it away. Maria could read his eyes. They were lovers. “You’re not here for the money are you?” She asked after a long moment.

“No I’m not,” Niall shook his head, facade crumbling before her.

“This is a very typical Rosalind move, you know?” Maria told him, reaching down to open up her desk drawer. “Leave the men she’d gotten to fall in love with her. I really can’t explain it. She’s like a magnet sometimes.”

3 months later

Niall could not let Rosalind go. No matter how hard he tried, how badly he wanted to, it wasn’t possible. His chest ached at the absence of her. She put him through hell most days and Niall swore deep down he hated her for it, but most strongly he never wanted to let her go.

Rosalind disappeared the day after Mario was buried. At least that’s what Luca told him. She’d left him and Maria notes with envelopes of cash and she was gone.

“She’s not coming back,” Luca told him, voice firm after the millionth phone call. “And why should it matter to you, anyways?“

“It doesn’t,” Niall had tried to convince him, voice quiet over the phone. He wanted to tell Luca everything but he didn’t. He kept it to himself.

It was a shot in the dark. He put a trace out on Rosalind’s plates. Her car was found at LaGuardia. No one knew how long it’d been there. Niall got his hands on their flight history and it seemed almost too good to be true. Would Rosalind really leave the country? Is that the extent of her leaving it all.

But Niall had been around the shop. He realized that Luca knew nothing. Maria, he learned, had loose lips. She just had a look in her eye like she was waiting for someone to ask so she could spill all of her secrets.

Niall found himself leaning against Maria’s desk, eyes glued to her as she moved around the room, making him a cup of coffee.

“I’m sorry Rosalind left without paying you,” Maria said, her back to him. “I really wish I could help you. Unfortunately she’s left without a trace.”

Niall wasn’t convinced. He sat down across from her desk, scratching at his jaw. Soon, Maria set a cup of coffee down in front of him, sliding into her own seat.

“Rosalind and I were actually kind of like friends,” Niall told her, eyes flicking up to hers, studying her reaction.

“Rosalind and I weren’t very close,” Maria responded. “So I wouldn’t know her personal affairs. Always tight lipped- unless she was angry of course.”

And Niall felt like this was the moment he could tell her everything. Maria was nice enough, kind eyes that were the same as Rosalind’s. And dark black hair but much shorter. Maria took a slow sip of her coffee, sitting back in her chair. “You know a lot of people thought...” she trailed off, meeting his eyes. “Never mind.”

“No what is it?” He urged.

Niall knew his face had given it away. Maria could read his eyes. They were lovers. “You’re not here for the money are you?” She asked after a long moment.

“No I’m not,” Niall shook his head, facade crumbling before her.

Niall knew what she meant. The way he had just gravitated toward her the second he laid eyes on her. From there it was history. A shared cigaret behind the building and then Rosalind had kissed him, fingers in his hair. The memory itself was enough to make Niall lose his breath.

“Anyways,” Maria concluded. “Here’s an address that she gave me to send money. Whether that’s where she is, I don’t know. She gets transactions every Wednesday. Might be worth the flight, you know, to get the money she owes you.”

Niall met Maria’s eyes from across the desk, taking the scribbled address from her. “Thanks,” he mumbled, looking it over. For a moment he wondered why he had to fall in love with the evil Civella sister.

“You’re welcome,” Maria told him, a slight smile on her face. “Can I ask how serious it was? Between you two, I mean. In all of Rosalind’s life she’s never had a boyfriend she even remotely liked.”

“Never?” Niall asked.

“Yeah,” Maria chuckled. “God she dated so many boys who were just like our father. Hated all of their guts. Fought like crazy. Physical, too.”

“Am I like your father?” Niall asked, unable to help himself.

“Well I don’t know you very well,” Maria smiled, stirring her coffee slowly as her eyes drifted to the wall behind him. “But judging by how quiet and calculating you are, I’d say only in the best ways. It’s good you don’t have the temper that she has, though.”

Niall thought back to the fight they had. The way he’d let his temper get the best of him. How Rosalind had finally said what he wanted to hear and he said all the wrong things.

“I guess I was surprised when she left,” Maria told him, pulling him from his thoughts. “Because she’d been doing really well, I thought. No physical fights at least.”

Niall hummed, nodding, “I was surprised too.”

“Did she kill Mario?” Maria asked, jumping right to it.

“No,” Niall shook his head. “I have no idea who killed him but it wasn’t her.”

“Are you sure? Falco was hellbent on pinning her to it that morning,” Maria urged.

“We were together that whole night and the next morning,” he told her, hoping it’d clear her name. “She didn’t do it. She couldn’t.”

“But she was going to have him killed?” Maria asked, eyebrows raising.

Niall shrugged, “I honestly don’t know. We didn’t talk business.”

“Right,” Maria nodded. “Well I hope you find her. Tell her to get her ass back home. Brooklyn isn’t the same without her.”

“I’ll pass the message along,” Niall nodded, standing up. He glanced at the address one more time, wondering if this was actually it. If Rosalind would actually run away to Canada, of all places. The address that would magically fix everything. That was a high hope.

Niall set off to find her, though. Packed a bag, grabbed his passport and was off to the airport without telling a soul. Just for the fun of it, he called Rosalind’s phone for the hundredth time. It went right to voicemail.

While he waited for his flight he began to worry about the million sceneries. If he showed up and found Rosalind with another man, if she wasn’t even there, if maria had just thrown him off her scent.

While on the flight, he convinced himself that Rosalind did owe him money and he was coming to collect his debts since she left without a call. If money was code for love ad debts was code for kisses, that’s Niall’s secret.

Rosalind was right, though. Life without her was unbearable. He wondered how he could’ve been so stupid, to let this happen. Rosalind and him deserved each other and that was really something. Equally as fucked up after years in the business. They could love the way normal people loved.

When Niall finally stepped foot in Canada, he had the feeling that he wasn’t supposed to be there. The impending feeling that Rosalind would hate him to be here. The air was cool, though. He could tell fall was coming faster around here.

He felt aimless as he gave the driver the address. The man didn’t ask anything of it, though. He took Niall to the bank, letting him out in front of the building. Niall got out, eyebrows furrowing as he adjusted the bag on his shoulder. It was a family owned bank that looked almost vacant.

Niall went in, pulling his phone out. He pulled a photo of Rosalind up, walking toward the desk where an older man sat, magazine in hand. “Hi,” Niall said, leaning against the counter. “My name’s James. I’m looking for my wife she told me to meet me here today. This is her,” he showed the man the picture.

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that is,” the man shook his head. “We don’t have very many clients as it is.”

An older woman came out from the back office, a box in her hand. She saw Niall and smiled, “hello.”

“Do you know who this is?” The man asked, pointing to the phone. “He’s looking for his wife.”

Niall watched the woman study Rosalind’s face. It took a moment but she smiled again, straightening up. “Of course, that’s Isabella, remember?”

“Isabella,” the man repeated. It finally clicked I’m his mind and he laughed. “Ah right. Ms. Jones. I hardly recognized her.”

“Reckon Isabella came in early this morning,” the woman told Niall. “Got her money and well, you know.”

Niall nodded his head slowly, eyes glancing between them. “Right. Well I appreciate it.”

“Of course,” the man nodded. “By now she’s probably off to work. What is it?” He asked, looking up at the woman. “That bar on McDermot?”

“Well surely he knows where his wife works,” the woman waved him off. “It was lovely to meet you. I’m afraid we can’t disclose much about Isabella. She’s a very private person.”

“Of course,” Niall nodded. “I appreciate your help. It’s just,” he sighed. “Isabella and I have been separated. I’m sure she hasn’t mentioned me. Recently we’ve reconnected. We had this fight for months. She wanted kids,

I didn’t. Eventually I came around, realizing that the only thing I want is to make her happy. I was surprised when she told me we were meeting here. We were finally going to put a down payment on a house. I fear she’s changed her mind.”

Niall watched, the man engrossed by it. The woman, not so much. She looked Niall over, slowly nodding, “I’m sorry to hear that. I could give her a call, if you’d like? She hated to be bothered at work, though.”

“That’s okay,” Niall shook his head. “I thought she quit her job at the bar, though. Moved down to that restaurant with the white table cloths. Shit, I always forget the name. You know what I’m talking about?”

“No,” the woman shook her head. “She’s still at the bar, as far as I know.”

“Right,” Niall nodded slowly, pocketing his phone. “Thank you for your help.”

“You’re welcome,” the man answered. “And good luck with everything.”

Niall stepped back out onto the street, letting out a sigh. He thought about going right to the bar, confronting her and demanding that she speak to him. He thought better of it, though.

Maria was right, he was calculating. He wouldn’t mess it up. So Niall got a rental car, and a room at a hotel not far from the bar to wait it out.

Niall thought about all the things he wanted to say to her. He wanted to tell her that he loved her. He wanted to make sure she knew just how sorry he was. The rest, he realized was up to her.

Niall imagined her face a million times. He dreamt about the moment he’d see her again. The way she looked and how she looked at him. Nothing prepared him for the moment he walked into that bar.

Niall saw her at the bar, filling up a glass while she talked to the man across from her. She laughed at something he said, finally setting the glass down in front of him. He gave her some money and she flashed him a smile, shoving it into her apron.

Niall unstuck his feet from the floor, finally sliding into a seat at the bar. Rosalind set a Guinness down in front of him, meeting his eyes for the first time in months. “It’s about time,” she said, arms crossing over her chest.

Niall’s tongue was heavy. He could hardly speak, let alone say everything that he’d thought of. She threw him off, the calmness of her voice, like she knew he’d come all along.

“Three months,” Rosalind shook her head. “It took you three months to find me? I thought you were better than that?”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to find you,” Niall told her, voice quiet.

“If I didn’t want you to find me, do you think I would have given Maria the address?” Rosalind asked, an amusement to her voice.

“So you knew I’d come?” Niall asked, eyebrows furrowing. He hesitantly wrapped his hand around his glass.

“Eventually,” Rosalind nodded.

“So what the fuck was the last three months then?” Niall demanded. “Pure hell for no fucking reason? You put me through that shit for nothing?”

“Niall,” Rosalind sighed, looking around at the people beginning to stare. “This was never about you. I left because I couldn’t breathe in that city. That was not the person I wanted to be. I didn’t leave to spite you, or to make you pay. I left because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have gotten better.”

Niall couldn’t stop himself from feeling like it was selfish. Her voice rang in his ears as he remembered her saying, ‘I’m selfish because I have to be.’

“Obviously if you hated me, you wouldn’t have come,” Rosalind told him, shrugging. “I think you came to tell me something. Think about it. I’m here till midnight.”

Niall let out a sigh, finally picking up his drink. Rosalind moved down the bar, taking orders. He watched her, the skill she had. It looked effortless. Most everything Rosalind did looked effortless.

Niall counted the amount of times he heard Rosalind laugh. It was more than all the time he’s known her. Maybe, he thought, this was where she was meant to be.

By the time midnight rolled around, Niall felt himself begin to forgive her. He wasn’t angry as he watched her come out of the office, her purse on her shoulder. He thought maybe he was still in love with her.

“Do you want to talk?” Rosalind asked, nodding toward a booth in the back.

“Yeah,” Niall nodded.

Rosalind slid across from him, hands on the table. She focused her eyes on him. Niall let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, meeting her eyes.

“So how’s things in Brooklyn?” Rosalind asked after a moment.

“Alright,” Niall shrugged. “Sucks without you.”

“Winnipeg sucks with you,” Rosalind told him, voice soft.

“Did you mean it when you broke up with me?” Niall asked, eyes falling to the table.

“Yeah,” she murmured, fingers tapping against the table. “I think I did. In that moment.”

“I should’ve...” Niall trailed off, shaking his head. “I’m a fuckin’ moron. I should’ve just told you I loved you and-and everything would have been fine.”

“It wouldn’t have been fine,” Rosalind shook her head. “My anxiety got progressively worse. Me throwing up in the parking lot- you fuckin told me to pull my shit together. That was anxiety and it got a lot worse leading up to Mario’s funeral.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Niall asked, almost desperate.

“Having a mental illness doesn’t automatically forgive a person’s behaviors,” Rosalind told him, eyebrows furrowing. “And I wouldn’t want that even if you believe that. You never held me accountable. You let me do and say whatever the fuck I wanted.”

Niall didn’t respond, eyes glued to the table. Rosalind sighed, running her fingers through her hair. “I’m on medication. Anxiety shit. Mood stabilizers. I’m in therapy. I don’t smoke anymore. No weed or cigarettes. I hardly drink anymore and I work out every morning. I take my medicine regularly. I’m...” she trailed off. “Niall, look at me.”

Niall finally looked up at her, eyelashes fluttered. She could see the contempt on his face. “I’m doing so good, and I’ve tried so hard to be a better person. Can you see that? Can you at least just acknowledge it?”

“I can see it,” Niall nodded, letting out a sigh. “And it’s a relief that you’re okay. I’m really proud that you’re doing so well. I guess I’m still a bit hurt, though.”

“I know,” Rosalind nodded. “Because we talked about running away.”

“Yeah,” he murmured, shifting in his seat. “And if you’d told me you were moving to fuckin’ Canada, changing your name and becoming this completely new and better person I would’ve been right behind you.”

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured,” Rosalind told him, shaking her head. “I wanted you to come to it on your own. Realize how shitty brooklyn is, and how you can’t live without me.”

Niall chuckled, nodding, “I knew all of that before you ever thought about leaving. I knew Brooklyn was shitty and I knew I couldn’t live without you.”

“Except we both did,” Rosalind pointed out. “Iived without each other.”

“Barely,” Niall agreed, nodding. “I barely lived without you.”

“Well I knew you were coming to find me,” Rosalind smiled, head tilting to the side. “So I was okay just waiting for you to come around.”

“It must be nice to be able to see the future so clearly,” Niall teased, feeling himself begin to lighten up.

Rosalind’s smile spread even wider and Niall was fine. His own smile spread across his face and Rosalind laughed, resting her chin on her hand. “So how long do you plan on staying?”

“I don’t know,” Niall shrugged.

“Well,” Rosalind murmured. “I have a two bedroom house. It’s kind of small but it has a nice kitchen. I have to be honest, though. It is quite lonely.”

“Lonely?” Niall echoed, eyes meeting hers. “That’s really a shame. Anything I can do to change that?”

“Maybe,” Rosalind nodded. “Do you know anyone new to Winnipeg that might be looking for a place?”

“I might,” he nodded, eyes shining. “Your ideal roommate?”

“He has to be handsome,” Rosalind told him, smiling so wide Niall was almost blinded. “Ruggedly, so.”

“Okay,” Niall drawled out. “I might know a guy.”

“And he’s got to be okay with sleeping in because since I’ve gotten out, the only thing that I ever want to do is sleep in,” she added.

“I think he’s probably more than okay with that,” Niall agreed. “Any other specific details he should know of?”

“In my house we only shower together because it’s better for the environment and keeps the water bill low,” she added.

Niall finally laughed, nodding, “that just might seal the deal.”

“So your guy’s interested?” Rosalind asked, feigning surprise.

“Of fucking course,” Niall laughed, pulling at his hair. “He’d be an idiot not to be.”

“So you wanna see the place then?” Rosalind asked, shouldering her purse.

“More than anything,” Niall murmured, standing up.

Rosalind stood up too, unable to help herself as she wrapped her arms around him. Niall hugged her tight, one arm around her waist, the other hand on her head. Rosalind let out a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut.

This was all Niall’s ever wanted.

“You have to call me Isabella,” Rosalind told him as she pulled away.

“I’m not calling you Isabella,” Niall shook his head.

“You have to,” she laughed as they began to walk out of the bar.

“I’ll call you Roz,” he murmured. “Because it’s your fucking name and the only fucking name that looks right on you.”

Niall walked Rosalind to her car, resisting the urge to kiss her. Rosalind looked at him with a smile on her face that he’d never seen before but he knew he’d never get sick of it. Niall wanted to draw it out, he decided.

Rosalind gave Niall the address, eyes lingering on his. She was giving him the look she always gave him when she wanted to make a move. It was a daring look.

“I’ll see you soon, then,” Niall told her, stepping back.

Rosalind chuckled, nodded, “so now you’re playing hard to get?”

“The tables have turned,” Niall laughed, shrugging.

Niall took his time getting his things from his room. He checked out, eyes glancing to the clock every couple of seconds. His mind was racing, thinking about everything. Would this be his life? Was this everything that he wanted?

When Rosalind opened the front door, robe clad with wet hair falling in her eyes and that smile on her face, Niall decided that this was everything to him.

“I got pizza,” she told him, leaving the door open for him to pizza. “And a couple beers if you want one.”

“Sounds great,” Niall murmured, closing the door behind him.

“So this is the kitchen,” Rosalind said, gesturing to the room around her. “Kind of small but we make it work. And then living rooms in there.”

Niall followed her into the living room, looking around. It reminded him of the place she had in Brooklyn. There wasn’t much to it, but somehow it all made sense.

“And then a bathroom over there,” she pointed to a door. “Upstairs we have both of the bedrooms and another bathroom.”

Rosalind brought him upstairs, showing him the spare room which had a few stray boxes and things in it. And then the bathroom, which had a bathtub and a shower, which obviously Rosalind loved.

And then she flicked the bedroom light on, showing him the bedroom. “You can put your bag anywhere,” she told him, walking in. “But yeah, the bedroom.”

Niall set his bag down on the floor beside the bed, nodding, “I like it.”

“So you’ll stay, then?” Rosalind asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“I might need convinced,” Niall told her. “After all, you did leave without even telling me.”

“That’s fair,” Rosalind chuckled, nodding. “How much convincing do you need? Like a pizza and a beer convincing or is this one of your plans to get a blowjob out of me?”

Niall laughed, walking past her, “all of the above, I think.”

They took to the couch, a beer for Niall and a glass of wine for Rosalind. They devoured the pizza, leaving only a few pieces of crust in the box.

Rosalind told Niall about the bar, how she’d gotten her job. She confessed that she didn’t need it. Not even a little. All she’d done for the last how many years was save her money in obscure places.

Niall agreed, a job was probably unnecessary. He too had more than enough for them to be well off together. But Rosalind convinced him otherwise.

Rosalind reached forward, setting her now empty glass of wine on the coffee table. “We should travel,” she told him, shifting back on the couch, eyes on him.

“Yeah,” Niall agreed, glancing over at her.

“Do you want kids?” Rosalind asked him, propping her feet on the table.

Niall chuckled, “yeah. You?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I think so.”

“Roz,” he said, chuckling. “I don’t know how to tell you this but, we have to get married.”

“Married?” Rosalind laughed, eyebrows raising. “You haven’t even moved in and you want to get married.”

“Think about it,” Niall explained, looking over at her. “We’ve been doin this shit for what two years? We successfully dodged an FBI investigation. You convinced me to run away with you and I’m pretty sure that we just agreed to have kids together. We’ve got to get married.”

“It’s crazy how you turned all of that into a marriage scheme,” Rosalind murmured, shaking her head. “Sneaky, I’d say.”

“Well,” Niall shrugged.

“I’m afraid we can’t get married, though,” Rosalind told him. “I don’t want to give up my last name and the last thing that I want is a fuckin’ Irish last name.”

“Fuck off,” Niall laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

“I’m serious,” she laughed.

Niall reached for her, pulling her closer by her wrist, “come here,” he muttered.

Rosalind laughed, letting him pull her toward him. She wound up on his lap, straddling him. Niall shook his head, pushing the hair off of her shoulder, “you’re going to take my last name.”

“I might need some convincing,” Rosalind told him, shrugging.

Niall couldn’t help his smile as his hands drifted to her waist. He thought about laying her out on the couch to convince her properly. Or taking her to bed to convince her. All Niall wanted to do was look at her, and watch her, and admire the person she’d become.

Rosalind kissed him first, diving down to catch his lips in a painfully slow kiss. Her hands found his hair, and suddenly Niall lost all the thoughts in his head.

His hands on her hips, wanting to roam, but feeling like he should take it at her pace. He did, letting her untie her robe, letting it slip from her shoulders, her eyes glued on his eyes.

Niall had spent so long thinking she was a new person, that he’d forgotten that she was exactly the same, just better. Better for him, she’d tell him, lips ghosting over his. Niall knew that she was better for herself, so she could be better for him.

As Niall kissed at her neck, Rosalind held onto his shoulders to save from falling over. Her eyes slipped shut and she hummed, “fine. I’ll take your last name. As long as you stay with me forever.”

“That means you love me?” Niall asked, pulling away to get a look at her face.

Rosalind smiled, eyes fluttering open. “Of course I love you.”

Note: There is actually one more chapter left, an epilogue!

taglist: @swasanfrancisco @halluciniall @coconutdawn @exoticniall @missy14us

#Niall Horan #Niall Horan fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #1d ff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fic #Niall au

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zhydoesart · 4 years ago

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the only reward for love (JeffMads)

ships: QPR JeffMads

warnings: brief mentions of abuse, bullying, internalized a(ro)phobia, mild burn

word count: 3.5k words

AO3 Summary: "The only reward for love is the experience of loving." - John LeCarre. | Thomas is in love with his best friend James, who doesn't, CAN'T, want him back. And yet, James still feels a prickle of jealousy whenever Thomas flirts with someone else in front of him.

Whenever James sees Thomas flirting with other people, he grits his teeth and keeps himself from saying anything. After all, it’s not like they’re dating.

It’s not like James is even in love with him.

Still, he can’t stop the jealousy from clouding his head whenever he sees couples engaging in PDA. He wants that, he really does, but as hard as he tries, he can’t make himself feel the right way.

But if James is incapable of love, what is it exactly that he feels toward Thomas?

He’s wondered that before. Often, actually, if he’s being honest. For whatever reason, no matter how hard he tries, it just can’t be that simple for him.

James thought he was normal until third grade. Sometimes, in kindergarten, kids would have “romances” on the playground where they’d kiss each other’s cheek and hold hands while they played, and he’d thought nothing of it. In third grade, a friend had started pestering him, asking him who he liked. They’d gone around the group, asking everyone else, and everyone else had an answer ready to go.

And James had realized—he’d never felt like that.

What does it mean? To “like” someone? To “love”? He’s asked himself those questions many times, but he never has an answer. He doesn’t know.

James is in high school now. Shouldn’t he have experienced a crush by now? Would he even know it if he did?

He sees his friends grow up around him, mature, even start to fall in love. They start prioritizing their relationships over their friendships, and he becomes an afterthought, a name tacked on at the end of a statement when they look over and realize they’d left him out.

The only friend he’s spoken to in years is Thomas.

Thomas. It’s a name not unlike a happy sigh, it rolls off the tongue with ease.

James met Thomas in seventh grade.

He’d always been sickly, especially as a child, and sometimes other kids bullied him because he wasn’t strong enough to fight back.

He remembered the day they met. Another boy had pinned James against the wall and was threatening to hit him if James didn’t hand over his lunch money.

James looked around desperately for one of the lunch ladies or a teacher, but there weren’t any adults nearby. He had sighed, internally preparing to go another long afternoon without food.

It had been at that very moment that someone had stepped in.

“Leave him alone,” purred a voice. It hadn’t been loud or demanding, but still, it made the bully stop and look.

James squinted at his savior. The other boy was backlit by the sun, and all James could make out was the fluffy mass of curls on his head and his posture, confident with his hands on his hips.

“Why should I?” sneered the bully.

The boy who’d come to rescue James took a few steps forward into the shade, and then James could see his face.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll make your life a living hell.” James didn’t know how anyone could say something like that so sweetly, but the bully’s face whitened.

“Okay, jeez, man, I’ll leave him alone.” The bully backed away slowly, looking slightly nervous. Both James and his rescuer watched him go.

“You okay?” James registered the boy’s voice, closer to him than before, and he looked up to see the boy right in front of him. His voice was soft, and it instantly put James at ease.

James dusted off his knees—a habit, something he always did once the bully left, whether or not he’d been knocked to the ground. “Yeah.” He was somewhat subdued, and he stared at the ground.

“You sure?” The boy sounded genuinely concerned for James. That’s never happened before. No one asked if James was alright, not when he got his lunch money stolen and was threatened with violence. Not when his dad started yelling and his mom protected him. Not when his dad yelled behind closed doors, and his mom left the room with bruises on her face and a sad smile on her lips.

James thought about the question. “I don’t know.”

The boy paused. “Can I touch you?” James liked the boy’s jacket. It wasn’t something that he himself would wear—too brightly colored for him—but it looked nice on the boy. He nodded.

The boy put an arm around James’ shoulders. “Hm. I’m Thomas. You look lonely. Wanna be friends?”

James smiled. “Yes.”

“Hey, cutie, you did well in Debate yesterday. Keep it up, and you’re gonna go places.” Thomas winks, and the girl—he thinks her name is Katherine—blushes.

“Thanks,” she mutters, staring at her hands, and runs off to gossip with her group of female friends, all of which were huddled around their lunch table watching the exchange. He watches as she starts excitedly talking, and he shakes his head.

Thomas strides back to his table on his long legs, settling down on the bench across from his friend. His spoon is still sitting on his napkin where he’d left it earlier, and he picks it up, glancing at James.

James… looks almost sad. In fact, if Thomas didn’t know better, he’d think James was jealous.

As it is, he does know better. He’s not sure James has ever liked anyone, let alone him. Unless he’d just been very good at hiding it. And while James is generally a quiet person, there’s an exception when he’s with Thomas. James tells Thomas everything, and vice versa. Well, he can’t tell James about this. So… not everything, he supposes. Not anymore.

The reason why he flirts with other people isn’t because he isn’t interested. In fact, it’s the opposite. He flirts with other people as a distraction. A distraction from the fact that the person he really wants to flirt with is right there, a literal arm’s length away, and he can’t.

(Thomas isn’t actually interested in girls, so perhaps it isn’t right for him to get their hopes up—although it is common knowledge that he’s gay, and the girls still giggle and blush when he flirts, so it isn’t entirely on him.)

James has this wistful look on his face, and he’s gazing at Thomas. When Thomas makes eye contact, he blushes and looks away.

Thomas is too trapped in his head these days to know what to make of it. Maybe it’s finally time for him to talk to someone else.

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Angelica stares at Thomas in a way that makes him slightly uncomfortable, like she’s trying to read his thoughts.

He clears his throat. “I came here to talk, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, Thomas, I remember.” Angelica shifts in her chair, uncrossing her legs. “So what’s the problem?” she whispers, grinning.

Thomas is starting to regret this decision already.

Then again, who else would he talk to? Burr? Hamilton? Despite how popular he is, he doesn’t have many people he can confide in. Other than Angelica and James, there isn’t anyone else he’s on good terms with and talks to often.

“Okay,” he begins, stopping to gather his thoughts. Thomas is an eloquent person, and English is his first language, but whenever it comes to feelings, or James, he forgets how to speak. “Okay. It’s entirely possible I may have developed. Feelings. For someone.”

Angelica’s eyes narrow, and she leans forward. “You? Feelings? I thought you didn’t have those.”

“Hah.” Thomas rolls his eyes. “Very funny. May I continue?”

“Yes, you may.”

He glares at her, but there isn’t any malice. “As I was saying. I may have feelings. For.” He swallows. “James.”

Angelica’s eyes widen. “Oh.” Suddenly she seems awkward and possibly even guilty for teasing him. She lowers her voice. “Really?”

Thomas looks down, playing with his hands in his lap. “Yeah.”

Neither of them speak for a minute or two.

“Wait, why is this a problem again?” Angelica finally asks. “Isn’t he your best friend?”

“Yes, that’s part of the reason why it’s a problem.”

“Part?”

“I don’t think he’s ever liked anyone,” Thomas confesses. “I’ve known James for four years. He’s never once mentioned a crush.”

“Maybe he just didn’t tell you?” suggests Angelica.

“No, we tell each other everything. And I mean everything,” Thomas almost leaps to his feet, but instead takes a deep breath and remains in his chair. “He would have told me.”

Angelica shrugs. “Well, then, you might be right.” She pauses, examining Thomas’ body language. “What kind of response do you want from me?”

“I’m… not sure.”

Angelica straightens up. “You know that I know a lot about the queer community and its various labels.”

“Yes?” Where is this going?

“From what little I know about your, uh, ‘situation,’ I think James might be aromantic.”

“What’s that?” He thinks he knows, but he wants to hear it from the mouth of the expert.

“Aromantic means you don’t fall in love. That doesn’t mean he wouldn’t feel any kind of love, however; platonic love is still very much there.” Angelica is watching him carefully—gauging his reaction?

“I see.” Does James know he’s aromantic? Is James aromantic? Is Thomas just jumping to conclusions? When he gets home, he should do some research. Knowing more never does any harm, unlike not knowing enough.

“Does that help?” Angelica asks.

“I think so.” Thomas pushes his chair back, getting to his feet. “Thank you.”

The whole walk home, Thomas is lost in thought. He’d honestly be doing research on his phone if there wasn’t a serious danger of walking into things and people—he’d learned his lesson in the past.

The minute he gets up to his room, he drops his backpack on the floor, leaps into his spinny chair, and uses the momentum to roll up to his desk.

Thomas does a few Google searches for aromantic, then a few more for aroace. He’s reading an article on aromantic-related vocabulary when he comes across the word queerplatonic.

What it says is “queerplatonic: a form of love that isn’t inherently romantic or platonic. It’s different for each person who experiences it.” And a little farther down the page: “QPR: a queerplatonic relationship.”

Could…

Is that something he could have with James?

He reads a few more articles, then a few more, and a few more, until it’s dark outside. He retires to bed, but he doesn’t fall asleep for half an hour. He lies in the dark, thinking.

Unfortunately, Thomas and James don’t share any classes this year. Junior year means they have to start thinking about college, and thinking about college means having to take different classes depending on what you intend to major in. James isn’t going to major in the same thing as Thomas, so they’re taking different classes, which means the first and only time they can see each other during the school day is during lunch.

“Hey,” Thomas says as James sits down. James doesn’t give a verbal response, merely nods. “I said hello.”

“Hello?” James says uncertainly, and Thomas chuckles.

“Hello!”

“Hello.”

“Hello—”

“Okay, that’s enough, we’re not doing this again!” exclaims James, and Thomas cackles. “Are you done?” Thomas shakes his head.

“I can’t breathe,” he wheezes, slapping the table, and James catches his water bottle as it falls. Thomas gasps for breath, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Okay. So how was your day?” he asks, trying to recover.

“I will never understand you,” James deadpans. “My day was fine. Uneventful. How was your day?”

“Boooring.” Thomas unscrews the lid on his thermos, and James eyes it suspiciously. Thomas has had his fair share of spills, and it’s never a good thing when he brings in soup. “Oh, relax.” Thomas covers one of James’ hands with his own, and James attempts to regulate his breathing, since it had suddenly become more difficult. “Look, I haven’t spilled anything in two weeks!” Right as he says this, he nudges his thermos with his elbow. “Oh, shit—”

James lunges for the thermos. He catches it before it tips over completely, but can’t stop the soup from splashing onto his hand. He sets down the thermos and stares at his hand. It takes a moment for the liquid to start hurting.

“Jesus Christ.” Thomas grabs James by the wrist, using the napkin from his lunchbox to dry James’ hand. “We should get some cold water on that, I’m so sorry—”

That’s another thing. Thomas rarely apologizes, even when he goes too far during Debate club. (James is always there to watch, but never participate.) And yet, he doesn’t even think twice when he apologizes to James.

“Come on.” Thomas pulls James along behind him.

The bathrooms in their school are generally awful, both in hygiene and in upkeep, but the ones by the cafeteria are the cleanest due to food-related health regulations. That being said, the moment Thomas and James walk into the bathroom, one of the three lights blows.

Thomas mutters a curse, and James jumps. “Damn janitors. Maybe they should be paid more, maybe then they’d do their jobs.” He pulls James the over to the sink, holding James’ arm under the water. “Sorry again,” he says quietly.

“It’s okay.”

“No, maybe you have a point. I never spill at home, but maybe I get too excited when I’m talking to you.” Ha. Is this another instance of Thomas’ infamous flirting? James is just his friend, after all.

“You should come over today.” Thomas isn’t looking at James, instead paying attention to the water and the slightly irritated patch of skin on his arm.

“I have homework today,” James says noncommittally.

“Come over! Do it at my place.” Oh no. He’s about to bring out his pout. “Please?” James can’t say no to him, especially not when he pouts.

“Okay, I suppose I can. I don’t know how much we’ll be able to hang out, though. I have an essay to write.”

“That’s fine.” Thomas beams at him.

“My arm is very wet,” James says, and Thomas startles.

“Oh, right, sorry.” He turns off the water, moving to grab a wad of paper towels. James never liked the cheap brown paper towels they have in schools. They’re scratchy and poor quality. He lets Thomas pat his arm dry, vaguely registering how odd it is that his friend is proceeding to do all of this for him and yet ignoring the fact that it’s at all out of the ordinary.

The rest of lunch happens uneventfully. James listens to Thomas rant about Hamilton (like he does every day), picking at his salad. Thomas almost knocks over his thermos again, nearly giving James a heart attack, but at the last second Thomas realizes what he’s about to do and carefully moves his thermos far enough away that it isn’t a threat anymore.

Thomas is waiting for James outside his classroom after the last period of the day. Thomas doesn’t have a sixth period, and James idly wonders if he’s been standing there all period.

“Hey,” Thomas greets him.

“Hello.” James can’t help but smile.

“Ready to go?” Thomas asks, and James nods.

They walk home together, for the most part in silence. Occasionally, something will occur to Thomas, and he’ll chatter on for a minute or two, but then James won’t be able to think of anything to contribute, and the conversation fizzles out again.

“Look out!” Thomas says suddenly, pulling James in close to him, and James flinches as someone on a bike nearly clips him. “Watch out, dumbass!” Thomas yells after the biker. “Are you okay?” His voice softens as he speaks to James.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” James says, keenly aware of how close he is to Thomas.

“That’s good,” says Thomas.

James pulls back a bit, and they continue walking. But Thomas, who’d grabbed his hand to pull him out of harm’s way, doesn’t let go, and James looks away to hide his smile.

Thomas pulls his hand away once they get to his house, and they both proceed to act like nothing happened, but James is secretly pleased, and he’s positive he sees Thomas hide a smile behind his hand.

Thomas settles on his desk chair, and James takes a seat on the bed, pulling out paper and a pencil. He begins to draft his essay, but in his peripheral, he can tell Thomas is watching him.

“Did you need something?” he says finally, head snapping up to look at Thomas.

“I have to tell you something,” Thomas says.

“Okay?”

“I… I love you.”

James’ blood runs cold.

“I don’t feel the same way.” There’s a lump in his throat.

“I know.” He doesn’t understand the way Thomas is gazing at him.

“You… know?”

“I talked to Angelica. I’m not just assuming that you haven’t been in love before, right?”

“No, you’re correct,” James says cautiously, furrowing his brows. Does Thomas know something he doesn't?

"Like I said, I talked to Angelica. She thinks you could be aromantic," Thomas says carefully.

"There's a name for it?" James asks, aware both his voice and body are shaking but unable to do anything about it. "I'm not… broken?"

Thomas' arms wrap around him, and he takes the opportunity to take a few deep, shuddering breaths. "No, you're not broken." He can hear the sad smile in Thomas' voice.

"If I'm aromantic…" The word sits just right on his tongue in a way nothing else has. "Then what do I feel for you? If it isn't romantic?"

Thomas pulls back, taking James' hand in both of his own. "I did research, you know. Something I came across was the term 'queerplatonic.' Do you know what it means?" James shakes his head. "It's a kind of love that isn't platonic or romantic. That's the best definition anyone could give me, apparently it's quite subjective."

James sniffles. "Oh."

Thomas smiles again, a little sadly. "There's something else, too. There's a thing called a QPR, which stands for queerplatonic relationship." James is suddenly very much interested in what Thomas is saying. "That's also subjective, and what you do in a QPR varies from couple to couple. It's all down to boundaries."

James laughs, a little breathy and a little disbelieving. "Really? Do you… do you think we could have that?"

"Actually, that's what I was hoping for when I asked you to come over today." Thomas looks down at his hands.

"You wanted to ask me to be your partner?"

Thomas instantly turns red. "Yes, well, um, maybe even boyfriend, if you'll have me?"

James nods fervently. This is happening, somehow. This is real. Thomas wants to be with him, even though James isn't in love with him. There's a way for them to be together. "What kinds of things do, uh… queerplatonic?" Is that right? Thomas nods. "Queerplatonic partners do together?"

"Oh, literally anything a couple could do." Thomas starts listing activities and quickly runs out of fingers. "Some go on dates. Some hold hands. Some kiss or cuddle. Some have sex." He sees the look on James' face and laughs. "Ok, so a no to that, you might be asexual then too. Some get married and even have kids together. Some are exclusive, and sometimes one or both partners date other people. It'd be entirely up to us."

"Well, then… could I kiss you?"

Thomas notices how close James is to his own face and turns red. "Um. Yes," he gulps.

And they kiss, and it's everything they both hoped it would be. It's James' first kiss, and even unrealistic expectations from the media don't set him up for disappointment because Thomas is wonderful (and also apparently really great at kissing).

"So are you my boyfriend now?" James teases, and to his credit, Thomas manages to keep a straight face.

"I suppose so," he answers, equally as smoothly.

Something clicks in James’ brain. "Wait, if you love me, then why did you flirt with all those other people?"

Thomas grimaces. "It was a distraction. I knew you didn't like me back."

"Oh." To think he was so jealous for so long, and now he gets to have Thomas all to himself. "I think I want this to be exclusive, if that's alright."

"That's perfectly fine." Thomas brings one of James’ hands up to his mouth and gently presses his lips against the skin. “I love you, after all.”

James pulls himself into Thomas' lap, and the taller man has the audacity to look surprised as James presses their lips together, winding his fingers in Thomas' curly hair. "You're mine now," James murmurs, and a thrill runs through him as he realizes it's true.

Tomorrow, they'd discuss the idea of announcing their relationship, and their boundaries, and what they'd even call it. Tomorrow, they'd tell Angelica, who'd ruffle their hair with a laugh, even though Thomas is taller than her, and he’d pretend to be annoyed. Tomorrow, Hamilton would bitch about the fact that Jefferson got a partner before he did, and Laurens, beside him, would look away.

But for now, they're free to do whatever they want, and right now, that's kissing.

Well… tomorrow, James has an essay due, and the usually quiet boy swears atypically as he remembers.

But they'll still have tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and every day going forward. It doesn't look like they'll break up any time in the near or far future, and who knows, maybe they'll stay together forever. Get that dog Thomas always wanted. Move in together. Wake up next to each other every morning.

But for now, James has an essay to write, and Thomas has a beautiful boyfriend to stare at/encourage/tease.

#hamilton #hamilton fanfic #jeffmads #hh what do i tag #modern au #high school au #this is my first legit work of fanfic in this fandom :o #honestly i thought itd be lams and not jeffmads

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onlycags · 4 years ago

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Bridesmaid | Çağlar Söyüncü

Word Count: 1,451 Rating: T Description: You try on bridesmaid dresses and our boy feels some things.

As Always, Enjoy! xx

- - - The moment you met the girl who would eventually become James Maddison’s fiancée, you knew she was the one for him. She was fun, down-to-earth, and so intelligent she gave you a run for your money at times.

You had helped James pick out the ring after a girls’ lunch where you grilled his soon-to-be-fiancée on rings under the guise of asking for one of your friends back home. You knew she had to know something was up, but she was gracious enough to play along.

It wasn’t a secret that they were thinking marriage. That being said, the proposal took her by surprise. Of course, there had also been a proposal on the pitch after a massive win against Chelsea which left you speechless and in tears - that part you hadn’t planned. You knew the two had talked about it beforehand, as you had lectured James over tea one afternoon on public proposals and to make sure that his girl was okay with it.

They took beautiful engagement photos in Leicester as well as London. You had come through for your best mate for the London portion, organizing a beautiful walk through Kensington Gardens while a photographer-friend snapped pics.

However, the biggest surprise came when she asked you to be a bridesmaid. She knew how close you were with James and that you know most of his best men already - big surprise, most of them were Leicester City players, and you knew which of your friends from childhood would be picked - and she said it would be helpful to get insight from you on things he would like and wouldn’t like when it came to planning the wedding ceremony.

You had fallen into a lovely rhythm with your best mate’s fiancee and the rest of her bridesmaids. It had been a lot of fun taking all of them to the pitch for a match and hearing them ooh and ahh over the lads you called your mates.

Unfortunately, the day the bridesmaids had picked out their dresses was over a weekend where you were on call and got called into work, so you missed the whole event. You were able to get all of the details from her, dragging a reluctant James along with you.

After some shouting and convincing, he had finally agreed when you told him he could bring Chilly with him, which was why you were confused when he showed up with Çağlar in tow. Horrified, you dragged your best mate into a corner to yell at him in hushed tones.

“Mate, what the hell?! I thought you were bringing Chilly!” You peered around Madders, watching as a very-uncomfortable-looking Çağlar sat down in one of the chairs, his face buried in his phone.

“Relax, it’s just Cags. He doesn’t care. Besides, we’re thinking of putting the two of you together in the bridal party since you’re the only person with a basic understanding of Turkish. And Chilly got busy - Rodgers asked him to do some last-minute press so he’s stuck with that.”

You rolled your eyes but accepted the information as it came. It wasn’t that you hated Çağlar; it was quite the opposite, in fact. The problem was that he never really spoke to you unless he needed something translated from Turkish to English. The other problem was that you were deeply attracted to him and the thought of spending most of the afternoon with him today watching as you tried on dresses was your nightmare come to life.

It wasn’t a hard process. You had visited the shop’s website the day before and had a vague idea of what you wanted. The seamstress helping you poured the three of you a glass of champagne and you snapped a pic of Madders and Çağlar with the champagne in their hands and sent them to the bride-to-be. Seeing the pair in football-casualwear holding a flute of champagne in one hand while they scrolled through social media was enough to have you in a better mood.

The first dress you tried on was lovely and you felt tall and powerful. You took it off and hung it on to try on again towards the end, in case you had to choose between this one and another dress.

The second dress was immediately taken off - you didn’t like the fit and didn’t see the point in having the seamstress come in to pin it when you weren’t in love with it immediately.

The third dress was not bad but you didn’t feel quite ‘you’ in it.

The fourth dress changed everything. The moment you slipped it on, something changed. The deep V in the front made your boobs look better than they ever had and the back showed off your intricate tattoos tastefully. The best part, however, was the slit up the left leg. “I feel like I could go to war in this,” you whispered, the awe adding a breathy quality to your voice.

“You look beautiful,” the seamstress agreed. “I liked you in the first dress but you were holding yourself differently. In this one, you look more like you.”

“I feel like myself - a very hot, very capable version of myself,” you laughed. “This is the one.”

“Would you like to show your mates?” She asked.

You shrugged, doubting that they would care. “Sure.” You stepped out of the changing room and called out. “Thoughts?”

Instantly, both boys looked up at you from their phones. Madders’s opinion was really the only one you cared about, but your heart skipped a beat when you looked over at Çağlar and saw the expression on his face.

Madders drew your attention from Çağlar, asking to take a couple pics that he could send out to his fiancee so she could go ahead and order the dresses asap. Once those were done, he walked out of the boutique, presumably to send them and give her a call.

When Madders was outside, Çağlar walked up to you. “Güzel görünüyorsun,” he murmured, his eyes roaming your body at your curves that were on display. You look beautiful.

“Teşekkür ederim,” you replied, a blush colouring your cheeks as you looked at the ground. Thank you.

“They tell me we are going to be together for this, yes?” He asked, drawing your attention from the ground back up to his face.

“Yes,” you confirmed, your brain immediately going to thoughts of how good he would look in a suit and tie. You inadvertently licked your lower lip at the thought and you swore you heard him moan.

“Seni öpmek istiyorum,” Çağlar whispered, backing you up into the changing room and closing the door. I want to kiss you.

“Öp beni, Çağlar,” you murmured, threading your fingers through his hair as you stood on your tiptoes to capture his lips in yours. Kiss me, Çağlar.

The kiss was better than anything you had daydreamed. Lately, you had been thinking about kissing him, and now that you knew what it was like, you weren’t sure you could go back to an existence where you didn’t kiss him. His hand found the slit in the dress, and the contact made you moan.

A knock on the changing room door had you both parting in surprise. “Everything okay in there?” The seamstress called out.

You snuck a glance at Çağlar and smiled shyly. “Just fine! Just trying to get out of the dress.”

“Do you need some help?” Came the seamstress’s reply.

You placed a hand to your mouth, stifling a giggle. “No, thank you! I’m almost out of it.” When you were sure she was gone for the moment, you turned to Çağlar. “Will you help me out of this, please?”

He nodded, heat flaring in his gaze. “Turn around.” The command in English in his thick accent had you wet.

Turning around, you held up your hair as he undid the clasps that held the dress in place. His deft hands brushed across your back, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The dress fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your bra and underwear - you thanked your past self for deciding to match your lingerie this morning. “Thank you,” you whispered, turning back to face him.

“You are welcome.” He kept his eyes firmly locked on yours. “I will let you get ready.”

“Okay,” you agreed, wishing you could stay here with him a little longer, but it was already going to be complicated enough. He opened and closed the changing room door behind him with a resounding click.

You leaned against the full-length mirror, letting your head fall back. You sighed, squeezing your eyes shut in exasperation.

Only six more months until the wedding.

#cags writing #cags originals

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swellwriting · 5 years ago

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What do we do now? -Part six

Part Six- Sunset (contains smut*)

A/N: This chapter contains smut but it is clearly marked where it starts and stops so it's easy to avoid if it's not ur cup of T, please only read that part if you are 18+ thanks xx

Word Count: 3.4k Series Masterlist

Remus woke up with Y/n in his arms again, no further moves had been made since he had dodged her attempt at kissing him last week. He never stopped thinking about it, how close she was, her slightly puckered lips and the mint chocolate on her breath. It haunted his dreams and he was worried he would talk in his sleep and make his adoration of her obvious.

She was none the wiser, since she tried to kiss him and failed the only thing she had realized was that she was in love with him, she made no new discoveries about his feelings.

He reached into the bag beside him and pulled out a chocolate bar, the crinkling of the wrapper interrupted Y/n’s sleep. She blinked, rubbed her tired face on Remus still bare skin, weird how she was so cold in a giant warm sweater but he stayed warm regardless of what he wore.

She eyed his chest and stomach taking mental note of where all his now fading injuries were, she sat up slightly crossing her arms and laying them on his chest resting her chin on her hands.

“Morning, chocolate?” He asked, mouth full of the sweet snack he spoke off.

“Of course,” she smiled, her tired eyes closing from the action. She made no move to grab a piece, just opened her mouth expectantly and Remus took the order, breaking the last piece in half and then placing one in her mouth and the rest in his own.

She hadn’t noticed that it was the last piece though, she quickly finished eating it and opened her mouth again but Remus shrugged his shoulders a bit continuing to eat the last piece.

Y/n frowned and tapped her fingers impatiently on the skin below his collar bone, was she this close before? “You ate the whole thing!”

“Sorry Mini.” He must be feeling better, he called her by her nickname and he wasn't one to use it often. Her heart fluttered at the sound.

“That was the last of our snacks too, wasn’t it?” She questioned and he nodded, he noticed that one of her knees was pinned between his own, he wasn't sure when that happened but she was now basically on top of him. Her hands were against his chest and she could feel his heartbeat quicken, she noted the way his cheeks turned rosy pink as he looked from their intertwined legs and back up to her eyes, her face was closer than before.

She decided to toy with him further, maybe she should try to kiss him again and if he pulls away this time she will know for sure that he doesn't feel the same for her.

“Guess I'll just have to eat you then,” she joked, her sweet and quiet voice making it worse for him.

Remus let out a squeak of a response, “Guess so.”

Their noses bumped before their lips met, she turned her head slightly and placed her soft lips on his, one solid slow kiss. Remus met her for it this time instead of pulling away. Her breath and lips tasted like chocolate again, just like last time. He didn't initiate anything further, he laid there, hands idle and still. She pulled away from the kiss and he admired the way her cheeks rounded from how wide her smile was.

“Sorry.” She said averting his eyes but he was quick to dismiss her bashfulness.

“No, don't be sorry, I just, don't be sorry.” He tried to communicate his feelings to her but had never done such a thing before. He wanted to say that he liked the kiss, he would kiss her as many times as she’d let him. He wanted to say that he hadn't stopped thinking about kissing her since the last time he so foolishly pulled away. He wanted her to know that he wanted more with her, a life and a future and all the stupid stuff people who are in love do together, he wanted it all.

So many words bounced around his skull, anyway he could formulate even a half-coherent sentence would work. If he could just mutter the simple question to her, asking her to be his girlfriend, or however it is that people ask that sort of thing. Sadly the only words that came out of his mouth were a pathetic attempt of a question and a statement, “Breakfast?”

She watched him silently for a few minutes before speaking the question and when he asked it she nodded in response. She could still feel his racing heartbeat against her palm and see the fear and anxiety in his eyes that couldn't focus on anything.

Remus had always blocked off his emotions, he wasn't concerned with dating at Hogwarts, he wasn't concerned with it afterwards either. He wasn't purposefully pushing that part of a potential love life away, he just wasn't pursuing it.

He wouldn't have ever gone looking for someone to love either, they just so happened to get in the passenger side of his stupid muggle car and agree to run away with him.

Y/n knew bits of this without Remus telling her. Lily had told Y/n probably too many details about Remus’ sad and non-existent love life, out of worry. Lily did that a lot, when she was worried about something she would talk about it forever making herself worry more and more. It took a bit of reasoning, which Y/n and James had both perfected, to get her to calm down.

Y/n gazed emptily at the forest out the window, only brought back to reality by Remus carefully sitting up holding her waist to keep her in her spot.

“I better start driving then?” He asked with a sleepy smile, “Unless you wanted to?”

“I’ll take back that kiss!” She challenged, squinting her eyes at him, her face extremely close to his since she was still sat on his lap.

Remus closed the space even further, looking from her lips to her eyes before kissing her briefly again. Then he pulled away and climbed into the front seat with a proud smile on his blushing face for being so confident in that moment.

Y/n sat in the middle seat, still stretching a seat belt over her shoulder but she rested her tired body against Remus’ as he drove to get some breakfast.

Fast food wrappers from a quick and cheap breakfast were stuffed into a bag, the two were leaving the parking lot as Y/n was half hanging out the window trying to throw the garbage into the bin. She tossed it with acute precision landing neatly in the bin without knocking anything else out.

She cheered quietly for herself and Remus laughed, she got a bit too excited and hit her head as she quickly came back into the car.

“Ow!” She yelped and brought her hands to the same bump that was there from the night of the full moon when her head hit the wall.

“Of course you managed to hurt yourself.” Remus continued to laugh at her knowing she wasn't actually hurt.

“I hit my head the other night too, I'm thinking this bump will never go away at this rate!”

“The other night?” He questioned, eyes on the road.

“Yeah, when we were in the separate rooms. After I went to my room alone I was sitting against the wall to make sure you were okay and I fell asleep and got woken up when my head fell out of my hand and hit the wall.”

“I’d feel bad if I hadn't told you to not do that,” Remus said, sparing a glance at her as she ran her fingers over the bump on her head. She noticed he was looking so she just stuck her tongue out at him in response.

They drove down a long road for what felt like forever, unsure of exactly where they were off to next. They were very short on money and they were both aware of it as they scraped together some change for their breakfast.

After an hour of silence and shitty radio songs, Y/n finally spoke up. “I've been thinking.”

“Either wonderful or terrible things can be a result of that.” Remus teased.

“We are almost completely out of money and we have no way of making any more. We have a few options, we could rob a bank, I'm thinking something a little less secure than Gringotts,”

“A little?” Remus interrupted with a laugh.

“Or I have this friend, I know he survived the war because he sent me an owl when he heard about James. Anyways he said he was doing really well, he has some sort of business that he’s running and that if I was ever nearby to pay him a visit and check out his business.”

“So you wanna go visit him?” Remus asked, curious as to who this friend was and if he would know him from Hogwarts.

“Yeah, I thought we could since we really have no other destination in mind! Do you remember Bertram Aubrey? He was in Hogwarts with us?”

Remus went silent for a moment, the name sounded familiar to him but he couldn't remember why. Bertram Aubrey? Suddenly Remus remembered exactly who that was.

“James and Sirius hexed him and made his head huge, they got double detention for that one.”

Y/n had an exasperated look on her face, out of all the people they could have hexed it had to be Bertram? “Do you think he will remember that?”

“Oh, I'm sure of it! Hopefully, he’s forgiven them and that extends to me, he wasn't exactly friendly to any of us after that.”

“Rightfully so, I’d be pissed.”

“I think it was an accident honestly but I can't remember.”

The car went silent until Y/n suddenly broke into a fit of laughter, “Sorry, I just remembered seeing him like that, I forgot that happened, he couldn't fit the hood from his robes over his head.” She bent over in a fit, reminiscing on the funny memory.

“Glad it has made you laugh all these years later.” Remus smiled trying to hold back the laughter himself.

“Oh, I laughed back then too, in front of Bertram. He was so mad,” she had to pause to breath between laughs, “I wish James was here so we could laugh about it together.”

She stopped laughing slowly, the realization of what she had just said hit her like a ton of bricks. Remus noticed this, he too felt bad when he would think about his friends in past tense like he was accepting that they were gone and he shouldn't be. Like he should still be a mourning mess at the sounds of his friend's names.

“It’s okay to talk about him, to remember him and wish he was here. I know it feels like the only right way to mourn him is to be sad and miss him and all of them all the time but it’s okay to remember him in happier ways, in stupid memories and stories from our past because that's all we have left.” Remus talked as seriously as he could as he focused on the road in front of him. Y/n didn't reply she just intertwined her fingers with the hand that he wasn't using to drive and let her head fall on his shoulder.

They continued to drive like this in silence, only speaking so Y/n could direct Remus where to go every now and then, eventually Remus reached a crossroad, he went to ask her if he was supposed to go left or right when he noticed she had fallen asleep. He didn't want to wake her up so he decided to pull into a small empty parking lot beside a large field that led to a forest with walking trails.

It was late afternoon, night time was inching closer and closer. The area they were in seemed pretty uninhabited, perhaps a busier place in warmer months.

Y/n’s eyes blinked as she woke up from her nap, she was unsure how long she had been asleep but she looked ahead seeing the green forest and determined they weren’t driving anymore. “Sorry, I fell asleep.”

“That's okay, driving is boring sometimes.”

“You're just really comfy.” She said as a smile broke across her face and she stretched her arm across his stomach letting her hand fall to rest near the top of his thigh. If her ear was near his mouth she would have heard his sharp inhale at the tiny touch. Her ear was instead pressed against his chest, almost directly against his heart.

“I can hear your heartbeat, it jumped.”

“Well, you make me nervous,” he replied honestly and quietly.

___________ Smut 18+ starts

“I make you nervous? What about when I do this?” She asked in a sultry tone as her hand slid up his right thigh, ever so slightly rubbing against his crotch and then up his stomach. He gulped, eyes watching her every move as he nodded in response.

She smiled up at him and batted her eyelashes, she watched as the almost chemical reaction between them made his face turn rosy red, it travelled up his neck and darkened his cheeks. She moved to straddle him, sitting on his lap.

He quickly moved his hands to her hips, gripping tightly. They both smiled into the kiss, teeth clashing and tongue biting as it got heated rather fast. It was almost as if they had done this a million times before instead of the contrary which was that they only had their first kiss this morning.

The kiss was sloppy and completely new to them. A kiss, a simple chaste kiss was easy but this was like being thrown in the deep end with no knowledge of how to swim and Remus felt like he was trying to use his tongue to keep him afloat. Okay, probably a bad metaphor on his part.

His hands travelled up her hips and caressed her sides sliding under her large sweater. Her hands wrapped around to the back of his neck, tugging his hair and scratching his skin lightly.

Y/n moved closer to him, pressing her chest on his and grinding against him. Through the many layers of jeans and cotton between them the friction was more than Remus could handle, not only was Remus inexperienced, much like Y/n was, but he hadn’t had a moment alone for so long. The only time he was alone was during the full moon. Every part of his being and his raging hormones were begging him to touch himself that night but he had so little time before he changed to do anything about it.

He had thought about it too, he had thought about doing this with her. Now that it was actually happening, and so fast, he couldn't control himself. He moaned loudly into her mouth, almost biting too hard on her tongue. She giggled in response, a light-hearted airy giggle that took Remus’ breath away even more.

Y/n wasn't as weak as Remus was, well not to say Remus was weak all the time but in this specific situation he was basically helpless, she had all the power and he was okay with that. She continued to grind down onto him, she felt his hard cock throbbing in his pants, it rubbed against her clothed clit and she moaned biting her lip. He wanted more and so did she but they were nowhere near ready to actually have sex, especially in the car in some empty parking lot.

They both needed a release though, and desperately. Y/n shifted her hips, wiggling so she could move back and away from him. She kept kissing him, craning her neck to reach him as she started undoing his pants. The action was easy enough for her to do, but as she reached to pull his pants down easily, he tried to do the same to her. Their arms tangled as they pulled on jean and zippers, Y/n finally stopped fidgeting with his underwear to shimmy getting her own pants down enough for his hand to fit in. Luckily her sweater was almost as long as a dress and if anyone happened to catch them she wouldn't be left completely exposed.

They didn't break the kiss for a moment as they reached into each others pants, she gripped his cock near the top, stroking at different paces and basing what was best off of his reactions. As she finally found a good pace she was distracted by Remus’ travelling fingers, they slid between her slit, spreading his fingers apart. He rubbed circles aimlessly until he found her clit, she moaned sweetly in his mouth, their noses squishing together.

He inserted one finger and then two, deciding that was probably good based on the sounds she made, he brought his thumb back to her clit, rubbing circles and pushing fingers as she pumped him rhythmically.

They didn't take long, they actually took longer to figure out how to do what they were doing, once they got it figured out it was mere minutes until they were falling apart in each other hands.

Remus came, making quite the mess as Y/n finished shortly after leaving a mess on his hands as well. They kept kissing, pausing only when Y/n whispered a cleaning spell and then pressed her lips back to his before she even said the last syllable.

They repeated their actions from before, but in reverse this time, Y/n fixed her pants and then their arms struggled to simultaneously zip and button up their Jeans.

___________ Smut ends

They pulled apart, his lips red and hers swollen but in a good way, like the way lips look after a having a cherry popsicle. Sweat collected on their foreheads like it was the middle of summer instead of November. Y/n took her long sweater sleeve and wiped Remus’ face, he smiled up at her as he did the same. She leaned back a bit, relaxing against the steering wheel that she didn't realize was so close to her.

Remus placed a hand on her chest, right where her ribs were and pushed her back making the horn honk, they both giggled, like little kids lost for words.

Y/n couldn't help but admire the way the sun shone on Remus’ pale skin, making him look like golden glass.

It was the golden hour which was the most beautiful time of day, the sunset was coming shortly. Remus pulled Y/n’s arm pulling her down to fall beside him, she tucked herself in under his arm and they sat like that, they sat like that until the sunset started. The sky went from golden yellow to orangey-pink clouds floating in a sea of cherry red sky.

Y/n sat for a moment, wishing she could remember this, take a picture to keep forever, that was when she remembered she had actually brought her Polaroid camera with her. She meant to document the whole trip but she forgot until just now.

She leaned over into the back seat and came back over with an excited smile and her hands wrapped gently around the camera as she turned it on, the lens twisting open.

“I forgot I had this,” she commented as she moved towards the car window, she could have gotten out of the car but she wanted it to look exactly like the way she was seeing it.

The picture showed the sunset in muted colours, the rearview mirror was in the top of the photo and the dirt on the window was evident, it was perfect.

She took the photo that came out and placed it on the dash of the car, she turned to Remus, he smiled goofily with his mouth too wide and his eyes squinted, it was still perfect.

She went to sit back down but then Remus took the camera from her, she was sat cross-legged, one hand fiddling with the laces of her Doc Martens and the other completely hidden in her large sweater, her smile was bright but it was like she was trying not to make it too big but she couldn't help it, it was perfect anyway.

Part 7

#wdwdn #what do we do now?#what do we do now #remus x reader #remus x mini #Remus Lupin #remus smut #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin smut #smut #remus x reader smut #remus x reader series #remus lupin series #Marauders #marauders era #hp fanfic #remus fanfic #fanfiction

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theaterkid821 · 6 years ago

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New Helper (Thomas Jefferson x Reader) [Smut]

A/N: hey all! here with a new fic! This one’s been in my inbox for a while so i’m sorry to the anon that i kept waiting! as usual, requests are open and love you all!

Masterlist

TW: swearing, mentions of drinking, and smut. lots and lots o’ smut.

You’d just been hired as a new maid to the Jefferson estate. It was hard work and long hours, but it was better than your family starving. You were busy dusting a room when you hear their son, Thomas, come in. His father was there reading and smiled at his son.

“Hello father. How are you do- who’s the new girl?”

“Thomas, this is our new maid (Y/N).” When you hear your name you turn around to face him. You give him a slight smile and a quick curtsey.

“I see… as you were”

“Yes sir.”

. . .

You were cooking something for the Jeffersons when Thomas came down. You gave him a polite smile as he sat down and you went back to work.

“So why are you here?”

I turn around, shocked at his question, “I’m sorry?”

“You heard me. Why did you take this job? I mean, no one wants to be a maid. So what was it for? Getting close with a rich family? Trying to build your way into society? I mean, no one would take a job like this unless they didn’t have some ulterior motive.”

You gaped at him, appalled by what he thought of you at first glance. “If you must know, I do have a motive. But it’s not to make a name for myself or get cozy with some aristocrats, it’s so that I don’t come home everyday to see a starving family when I actually have a way to make some money for them! So yes, I have a reason to be here and take this job, but you have no right to come in here and believe my motives are evil when you know nothing about me. My motives are purely for my family. Not for myself.” You practically yelled at him. He stood there. Silent.

Realizing what you had done, you quickly back away, “oh god, I’m sorry. Look, I didn’t mean to-”

“Don’t apologize.” “Why not? I just yelled at you, and you’re essentially my boss.”

“Because you were right. I shouldn’t have presumed what I did and I’m sorry.”

“Oh… um… it’s okay?” you say, not sure how to react to this situation. “I’m gonna get back to work.” But as you do, you can feel him watching you.

What you didn’t know was that behind the walls of the bright magenta coat, there was a sense of fascination and curiosity, compelling him to know you better. It was a want. No, a need. A desire to know everything about you. It was a strong urge he had never felt before. You reached up to grab something on the top shelf. As you did, your skirts lifted slightly, showing him your undergarments. He instantly felt himself getting slightly hard. If you turned around, you would most definitely see it.

He abruptly gets up, “I have to go.”

You watch him run out the door.

. . .

It had been a few months since you had started working. It was… fine. you were a commoner. It couldn’t happen. Correction; it wouldn’t happen. Besides, he’s left to be secretary of state, or whatever. So you were left, daydreaming what it could be like. To be with him, to spend your life with him. To marry him. But they were all just daydreams. They couldn’t ever come true, right? Right.

…or not. Later that day, you were notified by one of your fellow maids that Mr. Jefferson, Thomas’s father, wanted to see you in his office immediately. You immediately started to tremble in fear. What could he possibly want with you? What did you do wrong? You hesitantly knock on the door, but he warmly welcomes you in and offers you a seat. You do, sitting as prim and proper as you could.

He smiles at you as he speaks, “Now then, Miss (Y/L/N), you’ve done nothing wrong, so don’t worry about that. I only called you here to tell you I you’re being relocated.”

That made no sense to you. If you were doing a good job, then why were you being moved?

“My son, Thomas. He is in New York and needs a maid. I don’t know why, but he requested you personally.”

You were shocked, “M-me?” “Yes. Now pack up your things, you leave as soon as possible.” “Yes sir.”

. . .

Thomas welcomes you at the door and helps you with your bag. He leads you to a small room with a bed. “Here is where you’ll be staying.” “thank you.”

“you’re welcome. Now take your take your time and start your work whenever you are ready.”

“you are too kind sir.” “Please call me Thomas”

“Okay… Thomas.” You go to unpack your things.

. . .

You were cleaning the house late one night. Thomas wasn’t home yet, and you were getting worried. He doesn’t usually stay out this late. You suddenly hear the door open. You run towards it. “Oh thank god. I was getting worried about-” you stop when you see his friend, James Madison, with Thomas, who was wasted, hanging off of him. “Where is his bedroom?” You point to his room, “over there. Thank you for bringing him here. I will take care of him.”

“Of course.” He sets down Thomas on the bed and goes home. You lift him up so that you can get him out of the uncomfortable clothing he was in. “(Y/N), (Y/N)… Iwannatellyousomething”

“Get changed and you can tell me after.”

“Fine… fine fine…”

You leave the room so he can change. When you hear a loud thud, you run into the room. You see him changed into his sleepwear and unconscious on the bed. You carefully have him lying on his back, with his head to the side in case he throws up, and tuck him in.

. . .

In the morning, you get a basin and a wet cloth to help him get over his hangover. You come into the room, and see he is still sleeping. He’s so cute when he’s sleeping. You sit beside him and gently wipe his head with the wet cloth. He wakes up due to this movement. He looks up and smiles groggily at you. you give him a warm smile as well, “good morning”

He lifts his hand to stop you, “I’m okay… thank you though”

You nod and take away the cloth. “how are you feeling?” “A little bit of a headache, but alright.”

“Good to hear. I’ll go make breakfast.” . . .

Over the next few months, you and Thomas and seem to become closer and closer. After a long day, you had gone to read. You tried to concentrate on the book, but your mind wanders to Thomas. The way, last week, his hand slowly trailed up your arm. You could feel the goosebumps just as well today as you did that day.

Quickly, everything changes from calm to crazy. Thomas comes in and slams the door behind him. You assume he just had a bad day at work with Hamilton, who you’d heard a LOT about. You knew when he had a bad day as this he would want to drink a glass of scotch and be alone. But this time, he yelled “(Y/N), come with me now!”

You practically jump up in fear and follow him. You follow him to… his bedroom? The minute you walk in, he closes the door pins you against it. you gasp slightly and his actions. “Thomas…”

“Do you have… any idea what you do to me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “I’ll give you a clue.” And with that, he kisses you, hard. Your hands fly to his curls and pull him closer to you.

You both pull away quickly, once you realize what you two were doing. “Thomas… what are you-why are you…” you couldn’t think

“(Y/N)… I love you… I have since I first really talked to you. I’ll stop if you want me to, but god… please don’t tell me to stop.” “Don’t stop Thomas” “Thank god.” He kisses you again and rests his hands on your waist. The kiss was slow and loving, but it didn’t last long. Soon it became much more heated. One of his hands slowly moves down from your waist to your upper thigh. He pulls the leg around him and grinds against you. You could feel his hardened cock straining through his pants. You whimper softly as he starts to kiss your neck.

“Thomas…” “I know… I know…” he leads you towards your bed and lays you down. He helps you sit up as he slowly undoes your corset. Once it’s off you’re only left in undergarments. “Hey, this seems unbalanced.”

He chuckles and throws his shirt to the side, “better?”

You smile and run a hand up his chest, “better”

After a few minutes or so, you are both stripped of all clothing. Thomas gets on top of you and strokes your cheek, “are you sure you want this?”

You nod and kiss him sweetly, “absolutely.” He entwines your fingers and pushes into you. You whimper slightly, due to the stretch. Thomas is rather large and fills you up just right. After a few moments, you give him the signal and he starts to move. Both of you are moaning messes in just a matter of minutes.

Soon enough, you feel the coil in your stomach close to snapping. “Thomas… i-I’m close…”

“Me too… come with me (Y/N)”

And so you do, and better than you ever had before. He crawls off of you, still panting a bit. After a few moments, you spoke up, “so that happened”

“yeah… could I possibly court you?”

You giggle and kiss him softly, “if you didn’t ask I’d be offended.”

#hamilton #HAMILTRASH #hamilton fanfic #hamilton imagine #thomas jefferson #thomas jefferson x reader #thomas jefferson smut #reader fanfiction

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hekate1308 · 7 years ago

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Like Fathers, Like Son

A while ago, I made a post that said Dean and Crowley looked like a set of angry parents in a scene, and I wrote an AU version of that, but @thayerkerbasy, @wheresurmoose and @sent-by-hael seemed to wish for a canon version, so here goes. This is basically crack. Enjoy!

“This time, I am going to gank you for real“ Dean hissed through gritted teeth.

“Keep it down, Squirrel, would you? I hardly imagine Mr. and Mrs. Albert would like to hear one of the spouses they have invited to “clear the air” threatening the other one.”

“This is all your fault.”

“I fail to see how.”

“According to Roderick, you were the one to teach him one should always honour one’s deals –“

“One should” Crowley said firmly.

Dean rolled his eyes. “And because of that, your son thought it was alright to humiliate the boy in front of the whole school – “

“He’s my son now? Are you trying to make me a single parent again?”

Dean sighed. There were days where he thought there had been some logical reasoning behind his decision to marry the King of Hell and have a child with him... and others when he realized that this had, indeed, been the worst idea of his life.

Today was decidedly one of the latter.

“I do admit I am impressed that he managed to make every screen in school show it when the bucket of fake blood dropped on him and he screamed in panic” Crowley drawled.

“Please tell me you didn’t tell him that.”

A pause.

“Oh God, do you know how I’m going to look in his eyes when I tell him he can’t do that now?”

“You have to admit, for a seven-year-old it was a rather elaborate scheme –“

“That’s not helping!” The only reason Dean managed not to shout was that Mr. And Mrs. Albert were getting them snacks and he and Crowley were sitting in their utterly mundane living room. “We are raising a child not the next King of the crossroads.”

“Technically, he’s first in line to the throne –“

“Not that again!”

“I distinctly recall you liking it when I force demons to call you Prince –“

“Crowley, can we talk about this at home? Right now we have to look like a normal suburban couple.”

Crowley huffed. “God knows what exactly is it that makes suburbia so tempting to those people. Look at that carpet.”

“We don’t all have your money.”

“Our money, and again, I don’t recall you complaining about it before –“

“I’m not complaining. I just want our child to grow up a good man –“

“Dean, there is no doubt in my mind he will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he has you for a father.”

And once again, Dean felt his anger melting away because Crowley was being sweet. “Damn you” he muttered.

Crowley took his hand and kissed it. “Don’t worry, darling; everything will be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say” he muttered.

“Yes it is because if this gets too much, I can simply –“

“Don’t ruin the moment. Again.”

Crowley looked at him, the picture of innocence. Dean almost laughed but managed to stay serious.

Mr. and Mrs. Albert returned with the snacks.

“Now, Mr. and Mr. Winchester” Mrs. Albert began, “We do understand that this happened because John asked Roderick to do his homework, and then declined to pay him in candy. We have talked to him about it, and we will see to it that something like this doesn’t happen again. But still, we can’t help but feel that Roderick’s revenge for a better word was a little... a little...” she trailed off.

“Vindictive?” Crowley suggested, a gleam in his eyes.

Really, Dean couldn’t take his husband anywhere.

“Yes” she said.

��You see –“ Crowley began but Dean interrupted him before he could say something they would both regret.

“We have talked to him about it, and trust me, we will again” he said, glaring at his husband, “And he will understand that he is not to play such pranks on his classmates.”

The Alberts didn’t relax. “We’re glad to hear it” Mr. Albert said, “but at the same time I have to admit – that is we have to say –“

“John says Roderick tells all kinds of stories, stories that scare the other children” Mrs. Albert said determinedly.

Dean sighed. Dear God, what now? “What do you mean by that?”

“As a matter of fact, we were slightly concerned –“ Mr. Albert glanced at Crowley “You see, Roderick was adamant that his father was the King of Hell, and that the demons had to obey him. I understand that every child has his or her fantasies, but that seems a little dark to me.”

“Oh yes” Dean said quickly, “He loves inventing stories like that. The other day he made up that one where I was saving a bus like in the movie Speed –“

“Still. He also said that if the other kids were mean to him, and I quote, “My Father is going to send our hell hound after you.”

“I wouldn’t call Juliet a hell hound” Crowley said, turning to Dean, “She’s a sweetheart, wouldn’t you agree, darling.”

That bastard. Dean was definitely going to kill him this time.

“Juliet is a very nice dog” he pressed out, well aware that when they returned to the bunker, she would already have slept in their bed again.

“So you see, it’s just make-believe” Crowley continued pleasantly.

“That may be, but it’s not very normal make-believe, is it” Mrs. Albert said.

“Isn’t that the point of inventing stories? To get away from then normalcy of everyday life?” Crowley asked.

Damn, he could be smooth when he wanted to be. Small wonder Dean had eventually caved when he had kept proposing marriage.

And then adoption.

“But don’t you think insisting he’s the spawn of Satan is a bit –“

“He didn’t say Satan, he said King of Hell” Crowley pointed out, actually looking slightly offended that anyone would compare him to Lucifer.

This was going great.

“What’s the difference?” Mr. Albert asked indignantly.

“Well, the devil –“

“Crowley” Dean said as calmly as he could.

“And that’s another thing” Mr. Albert said, “What kind of name is Crowley?”

Bad idea. Extremely bad idea. Crowley was rather fond of the name he had picked for himself – even though he had taken on the last name Winchester once they had been married, much to the dismay of his subjects.

“It’s my name. I don’t see how there is anything weird about it.”

“You don’t? It’s freaking strange, that what it is –“

“James –“ Mrs. Albert tried –

“Sorry, love, but I’m done with all these strange stories John comes home with every night. Demons! Ghosts! Ghostbusters!”

Dean doubted that Roderick had actually used that word. His son knew a hunter when he saw one, and the Ghostbusters had always struck them as amateurs.

“I think” Crowley said slowly, “You should calm down.”

Dean laid his hand on his thigh and squeezed, hoping to calm him down.

Sadly, the movement only seemed to egg Mr. Albert on. “What I am trying to say is, if you freaks have to have children, can’t you –“

“If you just truly called my husband a freak, I suggest you take it back right now” Crowley said, still eerily calm, but Dean knew what would follow if Mr. Albert didn’t do the smart thing and apologize.

He hadn’t been bothered when people called him freak for a long time now. There were some things you had to accept if you married a demon, and being a freak was one opf them.

As long as it got him such spectacular sex as they’d had last night, he didn’t mind one bit.

“Why should I take it back? Look what you’re doing to your son! I’m tempted to call the authorities so he can get help, far away from you crazy –“

Both he and Mrs. Albert were pinned against the nearest wall. Dean sighed. “Really?”

“Sorry, darling” Crowley kissed his hand again, “You know how I get.”

“Don’t I just” he breathed. “Just make it quick, okay?”

“Don’t worry about it” Crowley said, kissing him.

He stood up and advanced towards the Alberts, slowly showing his demon eyes. “Let me make one thing perfectly clear. You are not to call either my husband or our son “freaks”. Me? I couldn’t care less what you call me, although I would appreciate it if you could use my titole, so “Your Majesty” it is, if you ever have the misfortune to run into me again.”

He studied their faces, enjoying their terrified expressions. “So here is what’s going to happen. Your son will never bother ours again. Roderick certainly won’t do the homework of anyone who doesn’t keep up their part of the deal. In fact, John won’t speak to Roderick at all unless Roderick speaks to him first. And if he makes any attempt to retaliate... Remember, I know where you live, and Juliet can indeed be a hell hound when she is in a mood...”

He waved his right hand and they slid down on the floor. “Now. Did I make myself clear?”

When they didn’t answer, he repeated the question. Eventually Mrs. Albert managed to squeak affirmatively.

Crowley nodded. “Your wife is definitely cleverer than you, Mr. Albert. I would listen to her in the future. Let’s go, Squirrel.”

And with a snap of his fingers, they were in their bedroom.

“You – you – “ Dean cleared his throat. “You’re lucky that was damn hot.”

Crowley grinned.

“Don’t give me that look, mister.”

“What look?” Crowley asked innocently, looping his fingers around the belt loops in Dean’s jeans and pulling him towards him.

He didn’t really resist.

Two hours later, Sam knocked on the door. “Are you done yet? I think I have been looking after your kid while you’re having sex long enough!”

He’d woken Dean up from a nap, and he hid his face in Crowley’s shoulder and groaned.

“Guys –“

“We’re coming, bitch. And thanks for babysitting.”

“Any time, jerk.”

“Guess we have to go and be responsible parents now” Dean sighed.

“Why? I handled it.”

“That may be, but Roderick can’t run around telling the kids the truth. Eventually someone will notice.”

“I guess you’re right” Crowley conceded.

“And nothing” Dean said firmly “Of that “good prank!” stuff, do you hear?”

Crowley sighed.

Roderick was reading Treasure Island in the library. Dean couldn’t help but smile proudly. Their kidn was smart.

“Hey, squirt” he said, ruffling his hair.

“Hello, Dad. Father.”

“We just came back from a meeting with Mr. and Mrs. Albert –“

“Uncle Sam said you came back two hours ago, but were taking a nap” Roderick pointed out, “Although I don’t get it because Father doesn’t need to sleep –“

“My point is” Dean ahsteend to say, “We spoke to John’s parents.”

“He should have just given me the candy” Roderick complained. “A deal’s a deal, Father said.”

“That’s right” Crowley agreed proudly and Dean shot him an angry look.

“I might agree with that” he said carefully, “But here’s the thing. Seeing how important it is that you keep your deals, you should be very careful which deals you decide to make in the first place.”

“But you wouldn’t let me have any more candy the other day” Roderick grumbled and Dean sighed.

“That’s because I want you to be healthy. Don’t you trtust me to know what is best for you?”

Roderick’s face lit up. “that’s true, Father said the same thing.”

“See? So no more light deals with your classmates. Promise?”

Roderick frowned but said “I promise.”

“And also – Roderick I know you’re proud of what we do, but please use the cover stories we gave you.”

“But talking about teachers and businessmen is boring!” he whined.

“He definitely gets that from you” Dean told Crowley before saying, “Yes, but we all need to be safe, you understand that, right?”

“I guess.”

It was as good a reassurance as he was going to get.

Two days later, Roderick told them, “John changed schools” during dinner and Crowley looked entirely too satisfied for Dean’s liking.

Someone was about to get punished tonight, that was for sure.

The fun way, of course.

#my writings #drowley #dean winchester #crowley #crack #forever my king

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siriuslybuckybarnes · 7 years ago

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Always (Bucky x OFC) Part 2/12

My Masterlist

Part 1

When Emilia Rogers was almost three years old, she sat beside her mother as she stared down at the little baby in Sarah Rogers’ arms.

The green-eyed infant stared back up at her and Emilia knew then and there that she would do anything to protect her baby brother.

When she was five, Steve fell into the local pool and Emilia screamed until her mother had pulled him to safety only seconds later.

But to Emilia, it had felt like years.

When she was eight, Steve was diagnosed with health problems, more than her young brain thought possible.

The doctor explained to them his stunted growth, his labored breathing, and his funny walk.

Scarlet fever hit him with vengeance, and Emilia sat worriedly by his side as she cried and wished she could take it from him.

Emilia sat beside her brother, listening to his labored breathing and wondered if she would ever be able to help him.

When she was eleven, she realized that her little brother didn’t like to be pushed around.

Despite his small stature, breathing problems, and slow speed, he insisted on standing up to kids bigger and stronger than he was.

Emilia couldn’t stand to see him picked on, and decided it was her job to step in and protect him, which resulted in a lot of detention.

When Emilia was fourteen, she found Steve hunched in a corner, cradling his small arm and trying to hide his face.

She soon learned that he had picked a fight with the school bully when the boy tried to take a girl’s lunch money. Emilia had helped Steve to his feet, walked him home and then promptly found the bully the next day, threatening him to leave her brother alone unless he wanted to face her.

The boy had laughed, not believing a girl could possibly be a match for him.

His face had met Emilia’s fist within seconds. Leaving Emilia shaking her hand out, and the boy with a bloodied nose and wounded pride.

Steve was an underdog through-and-through, his small stature making him an easy target even without him picking fights. Bucky had noticed how Steve refused to step down from those who threatened him and always stood up for the little guy, even though he was the little guy.

Bucky met Steve when they were twelve, having watched him pick a fight with a school bully over someone’s lunch money. The first punch landed left Steve hunched over, clutching his stomach from the force, the second didn’t hit because Emilia had appeared to catch it, shoving the larger boy back and pulled Steve behind her.

Her green eyes matched his, but they were darker with anger as she stepped forward, urging the bully to step off.

The next sound that could be heard was the boy’s hand making contact with her cheek as he slapped her, causing her head to snap to the side. He grinned in triumph for a few seconds, but Bucky had had enough, and he knew that there was no reason to ever slap a girl. He swooped in, tackling the bully to the ground and pummeling his face until Emilia dragged him off, scolding him for getting involved.

Emilia rushed the two boys off the schoolyard, and they settled in a small diner down the street.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she scolded, after she had asked for a towel filled with ice. “And you,” she said, turning her attention to Steve. “I’ve had just about enough of this. I’m not always going to be around to help you, you know.”

Steve’s hands were clenched in anger, “He slapped you.” His eyes were filled with rage as he touched the red mark on Emilia’s face. “I could kill him.”

“You can’t do anything to him, Stevie,” she replied, pushing his hand down. “And it didn’t hurt. I’m just worried about you.”

Bucky decided then and there that he would always stand by the siblings, no matter what came at them.

The next year, Steve and Bucky were walking home from school when they were jumped by the same school bully.

After a year, he still hadn’t forgotten about the humiliating fight that had ended in him lying on the ground clutching his face.

But this time, he had friends with him.

One grabbed Steve from behind, holding his arms behind his back. The other two had Bucky’s arms pinned as well, and the bully was focusing his energy on Bucky’s gut. After the third punch, Bucky let out a laugh and asked if that was all they had.

His question was met with a punch to his nose and he grunted in pain as blood poured down his face.

Steve was struggling to fight back, but he was obviously too weak to gain any ground.

“Let them go,” a small voice demanded and Bucky squinted his eyes to see Emilia standing behind the bully. “I said, let my little brother go.”

The bully turned, quickly slapping Emilia’s face.

“Back off,” he growled. “Or you’re next.”

Emilia’s head flew to the side, her jaw clenching as she turned it back so she could glare up at the boy.

“I don’t like bullies,” she said harshly, her right leg kicking out and striking the boy in the shin before she punched him in the nose. “Especially ones who don’t fight fair.”

Thanks to her distraction, Bucky had been able to fight free and he was taking care of getting Steve free.

Emilia wasn’t stupid. She knew they couldn’t win the fight, so she yelled for them to run and took off after them down the alleys. A few minutes later, they were hunkered down in the diner down the street from their house, Emilia tending to Bucky’s nose when Steve hung his head and apologized for getting them into trouble.

This time, Emilia shrugged and grinned slightly, “I stand up for my baby brother,” she replied. “This time he started it, so Buck and I finished it. Right Buck?”

Bucky had only grinned back and nodded, wincing when Emilia pressed the cold rag to his face to ease the swelling.

When Emilia was nineteen, her mother died from tuberculosis, leaving her and Steve as orphans and her as the sole familial protector of Steve.

To her, it was nothing new to be there for Steve, but now she felt as if there was no one left to be there for her.

Her mother was her rock in everything, and losing her made her feel empty.

The night after the funeral, Bucky showed up at their doorstep and pulled her into a tight hug, somehow sensing the utter despair that had struck her.

“I’ll always be here if you need me,” he whispered quietly, squeezing her as she began to sob quietly. “I’ll always be here for you and Steve.”

When she was twenty-one, war broke out across the world, forcing her to think back to how her father died when Steve started talking about fighting.

His insistence made panic rise in her throat as she contemplated the dangers of war, what could happen to him.

But relief flooded through her when she realized the US wasn’t joining the fight.

When she was twenty-three, Pearl Harbor was bombed and it was announced that the US would be joining the war.

Panic gripped her heart like a vice when she realized what that meant: Steve was going to try to fight.

Because like his older sister, he didn’t like bullies. And to Steve, the Nazis were the biggest bullies of them all.

Luckily for Emilia’s selfish worry, Steve’s health was too poor for him to be accepted and he was immediately rejected and sent home. But her elation was short-lived as he continued to try to enlist.

She felt sick to her stomach every time he opened their front door, panic once again causing her chest to clench tightly when she saw papers in his hand.

But every time, he was holding new rejection papers as they marked him unfit to serve.

When she was twenty-four, her best friend enlisted in the army, becoming Sergeant James Barnes of the 107, and she realized that she couldn’t stand by him to protect him.

Before Bucky shipped out, he held her close as they danced, and promised her that he would return home to her. Promised her that he would always return to her, no matter what.

When she was twenty-five, her baby brother told her he was enlisting a super soldier program that would allow him to fight. Just like he’d always wanted.

She cried herself to sleep that night as her stomach did somersaults at the thought of losing her baby brother and her best friend.

After three months away, he returned home and told her that he had been chosen as the first to undergo the procedure and that he wanted her to go with him.

Emilia fought the bile in her throat and agreed, praying that she wouldn’t have to watch her brother get hurt.

Part 3

#steve rogers #captain america #captain america has a sister #bucky barnes #james barnes #always #avengers #pre serum steve #pre-war steve #pre-war bucky

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pinchevaquerx · 7 years ago

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Once Upon A Time In The West

disclaimer: this is so heavily hc based it’s unreal. This will all be canon for my Jesse unless you request otherwise during out RP, or if we’re already RPing something different. Also: yes- I am this horribly cliche (you’ll see what I mean). Yes- I did have to make him suffer this much (trust me, some drafts were even worse). And yes- I have spent far too much time thinking about this man. There IS a tl;dr at the end, don’t worry!

if you are at all concerned by the tags, feel free to message me and I can either give you a better heads up on what they’re for or give you a summary with those parts taken out!

The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly

In the year 2034, before the Omnic Crisis began, the American government replaced social security numbers with social security chips. The idea was a simple one: if people had their personal ID number implanted on a chip at birth, then identification would never be a problem again. No more unnamed bodies, no forging identities with fake cards, no codes or pins or keys needed to unlock high security features. Everything the government needed to know about everyone was in their chip.

Jesse was never given one.

His parents were repeat offenders for drug addiction, and going to the hospital for a delivery while high would have landed them another strike. So Jesse was born at home, never went to the hospital, and thus never received a SSC.

The back roads of Santa Fe were Jesse’s playground. He was allowed to roam, doing as he pleased, so long as he never let adults question him. Naturally, this means he didn’t talk to many people as a small, dirty child who spoke a broken mix of English and Spanish running around on their own worried most adults.

However, there was one woman just a few streets over, one Ms. McCree, who Jesse adored. For meals, instead of returning home where’d have to scavenge for scraps, he knocked on her door and offered whatever treasures he’d found that day in exchange for food. It was Ms. McCree who introduced Jesse to Westerns and encouraged his love of them.

The one thing Jesse did get from his parents were his survival skills. They knew how to sneak and steal, how to bribe or charm others into giving them just enough to get by, and ( most importantly ) how to shoot. Jesse was a natural at aiming, and his love of westerns only pushed him to practice until he was a crack shot.

Alias Jesse James

As rough as things were, they quickly got worse. Jesse’s mother grew sick, deteriorating so quickly that there was no time for her to get treatment. After she passed, Jesse’s father lost what little control he had. His drinking grew to be as bad as his drug addiction. Instead of shooting for a hobby, Jesse began to consider it for self-defense. For a while, it was enough to throw things and hide. If he couldn’t find a good spot outdoors, Ms. McCree’s house was always open to him.

It only took a year before his father borrowed money from the wrong people. The Deadlock Gang had been around since before the Omnic Crisis, but during the war is when they really took off. Now, they had near sole control of the Four Corners and their reach was spreading.

When Jesse was eleven, Deadlock stormed their house. His father was as inebriated as always, so Jesse took matters into his own hands. Recklessly cocky in the way only a child who’d raised himself on too many westerns could be, Jesse grabbed his gun and squared off against the intruders.

Every member was at least ten years older and twice as heavy as the kid. They didn’t take Jesse as a threat, but one member noticed the steady way Jesse held his gun, even if he had poor form. After commenting on this, Jesse’s dad jumped on the opportunity.

With a mix of confusion and anger, Jesse listened as his dad charmed the ringleader. His father had explained his lack of a chip, how he could slip into places without setting off any of their alarms because of it, how no one would suspect a kid if they did see him, how Jess was already skilled at doing this. An agreement was reached, and in the end Jesse had more or less been sold off to Deadlock to repay the debts.

Jesse, having avoided his parents as much as possible growing up, never learned his last name. So when Winchester, the current leader of Deadlock, asked for his name upon arrival, Jesse confidently declared himself “Jesse James”.

The Wild Bunch

Working with Deadlock taught Jesse many things very, very quickly. Despite his usefulness, no one was willing to go out of their way to help him. Jesse had to keep up or get left behind. As good a shot as he’d been before, being placed in situations where he either shot or got shot made him better.

They used him for everything from stealing to carrying messages to smuggling at the start. Once Winchester realized how much more he could do, Jesse suddenly became their ‘secret weapon’. He was sent on jobs as their sharpshooter. Sent to deals as the negotiator. Sent to contacts as the charmer. If Winchester needed it done, Jesse was his man.

The first time he killed a man he was fourteen.

It wasn’t for Deadlock, not really. Jesse had done his best to take people down but not out with his bullets, much to the ire of the gang. It did benefit them in the end, though, which meant Jesse didn’t have to reveal the real reason for his first fatal shot.

During a face off with a rival gang, Jesse found a young kid trying to sneak away in all the chaos. They were younger than he’d been at first, and it infuriated him to see someone else treated that way. To be forced to work for a gang to survive as a kid. Winchester had clearly said to kill anyone they saw, but Jesse refused to even raise his gun at them. Instead, he offered his assistance in getting them out. Just as they were almost in the clear, a member of the other gang showed up. Jesse didn’t even have to think about it before he shot the man square in the forehead.

The kid got away... and Jesse became a killer.

After that, it got easier and easier to kill. Winchester was always pleased with the results and Jesse had so many nightmares there wasn’t any time left in the night for more. It was shortly after that when he first pulled of a perfect Deadeye, killing six targets within a matter of seconds.

Doing this caused him a massive headache, with the symptoms getting worse if he did it too frequently. However, Deadlock’s Deadeye gained an infamous reputation and helped the gang expand their territory even more.

Once other gangs realized their secret weapon was a scrawny kid, Jesse became an easy target. Deadlock didn’t want to lose him, but they weren’t willing to do much to help him out. During a botched job, Jesse ended up in enemy hands. He was with them for almost a week, getting tortured for information he wasn’t supposed to know. It’d have been so easy for him to give it all up, but he had a strong, misplaced sense of loyalty for his gang. Finally, Deadlock came to save him only because they needed Jesse for another job. Winchester made sure he knew, not wanting the kid to think he was more important than he was.

In the end, Jesse was left with several new scars, PTSD he didn’t understand, and severe disillusionment. At sixteen, he finally stopped waiting for the day Deadlock would fully accept him as one of their own. His naive loyalty was shattered, yet he knew he still needed the gang. He no longer worked to gain their favor, instead doing his job in order to survive.

Hang ‘Em High

When Jesse was seventeen years old, Deadlock had finally grown large enough to catch the interest of Blackwatch. They had progressed from their small territory to all over the States and down into Central America. Now they dealt in nearly every area of smuggling: high grade weapons, drugs, tech, information, people... if someone wanted it moved, they’d do it.

Deadlock hadn’t expected the sting, had never assumed someone would dare to attack them on their own turf, and were vastly under prepared. Jesse had been sent out with a few others to hold the attackers back, while the higher ranking members gathered their supplies and tried to run. Both Jesse and Winchester knew the others who’d been sent along were canon fodder, so Jesse didn’t even blink as they were picked off easily.

Jesse, for his part, was prepared to do whatever it took to survive this encounter. It had been his driving force his entire life, and some unknown gang with a goth aesthetic wasn’t about to change that.

The Overwatch symbol one of them wore on his sleeve was enough, though. Changing his aim slightly, Jesse stopped making head shots and made sure the rest of his hits weren’t lethal. Killing other gangs was nothing, they were criminals and all around awful people, just as bad or worse than Jesse himself. Overwatch, though, was full of heroes. Despite being his enemy, Jesse couldn’t bring himself to kill a hero, someone who was out there doing good in the world, saving innocents from people like himself.

Without Jesse’s shooting to keep Blackwatch stalled, Deadlock wasn’t able to get away. Before anyone knew it, most of Deadlock was either dead or captured, with only a few managing to slip away. Jesse had played up his age, played up the innocent look he knew he could fake, and got himself caught instead of killed.

Man Without A Star

Jesse was kept in lock up for roughly 30 hours before being dragged into an interrogation room. The first agent treated him with kid gloves, which irritated Jesse enough that he immediately dropped the act. Only one person had ever been allowed to talk to him like a child, and that was before he’d been forced to grow up.

The first agent walked out in frustration, yelling how Jesse wasn’t a ‘kid in the wrong place at the wrong time’ after all as the door shut behind him. Proud, Jesse promised himself he’d kick the second agent out even faster. This time, the man left after ten minutes with a bloody nose. He’d gone for the bad cop role, getting up close to yell in Jesse’s face, and had gotten headbutted for his efforts.

The third man that walked through the doors didn’t just change the game, he ended it entirely. Gabriel Reyes was both everything and nothing like Jesse had expected. His mere presence demanded a respect that Jesse didn’t know how to give.

Their conversation was quick, to the point, and heavily one-sided. Jesse wasn’t treated like a child or a criminal. Reyes laid out the facts at first, with no hints giving his thoughts away. Ballistics had come back from Jesse’s gun, revealing much more than Jesse knew was possible. He was linked to several impressive shootouts from the past three years, proving he was the Deadeye they’d had their eyes on. The majority of wounds he landed on the Blackwatch agents weren’t fatal, and based on the perfect head shots from before, it was intentional.

There was no doubt that there was enough evidence to send Jesse to a maximum security prison for the rest of his life, regardless of his age. After all that, when Jesse’s head was down, Reyes made his offer: Blackwatch or prison. Neither sounded great, but a gilded cage was better than a maximum security one.

This time, he gave the name “Jesse McCree”.

The Good Old Boys

The first few years were the hardest. Jesse had rarely slept as much as he should and never ate as much as he needed. Thus, he was all skin and bones with only enough muscle to get by. Reyes became his personal trainer, working Jesse harder than he’d ever worked in his life. The military like routine was awful, but the results came quickly.

Not even a year after joining, Jesse hit a growth spurt, his form finally filling out to match his gangly limbs. While he now had three meals a day, the nightmares still plagued him enough that sleep was rare. Once he was allowed on missions, though, they exhausted him enough that he’d pass out the second debrief was done.

Emotionally, things moved much slower.

Jesse had never trusted anyone else before. The closest he got to caring about anyone had been Ms. McCree, and even then had been it based more on survival than companionship. The concept of team mates and watching someone else’s back were foreign to him. At least once a week, Jesse was given a reprimand for fighting with fellow agents.

Seven months after joining, things hadn’t improved. However, that was when Fareeha Amari came to stay with her mother. She hadn’t heard anything about Jesse before seeing him, but immediately grew attached as he was the only person even close to her age. The twelve year old girl managed to do what no else had, and gained Jesse’s trust and friendship.

Thanks for her efforts, it wasn’t long before Jesse’s trust extended to the entire Strike Team. None of them became as important to him as Ana or Gabe, though. Once he opened up to them, Jesse trailed after the pair like a puppy. While Ana became his greatest mentor, Gabe eventually grew to be more like a father figure.

At first, he hated everyone who wore the blue of Overwatch, but especially Jack Morrison. On the surface, he was the perfect poster boy, a shining example of the law. He seemed to be an amalgamation of everything Jesse hated about authority. It was only after he grew to trust Gabe and Ana, who in turn trusted Jack, that he began to change his mind. They got off to a rough start, with him often seeing just how far he could push before he got in trouble. But, eventually, Jack became another person Jesse considered family.

True Grit

By the time Jesse was twenty-six, he had improved enough to be one of Blackwatch’s best agents. It was around then that Talon grew more powerful, and soon began to directly attack Overwatch. On a mission to take them out, the Second-in-Command was killed while saving his team. Following the loss, Gabe promoted Jesse to take his place, stating he had been next in line for a while and this was just a bit sooner than planned.

When Genji Shimada joined their ranks, a part of Jesse assumed he’d be able to reach past his walls like Fareeha had done for him before. As a result, Genji ended up shoehorned into being Jesse’s partner, as it turned out they worked perfectly together. While Genji never grew past his hate during his time in Blackwatch, Jesse still formed a deep attachment to the man. In his mind, he’d care enough about their friendship for the both of them, and that’d be fine.

Good things never last forever, and while Blackwatch wasn’t exactly good, they sure weren’t as bad as Talon. But somehow, despite their best efforts, Talon managed to infiltrate Blackwatch right under their noses. Important files went missing, agents disappeared, missions went wrong.

Things really came to a head the last three years of Overwatch’s existence. Blackwatch was exposed, putting them on an indefinite hiatus, which let Talon take the lead in their struggle. Amelié Lacroix was kidnapped and Gerard was murdered in his own bed. Everything was falling apart, to the point Jesse wasn’t sure who he could trust anymore.

The final straw was Ana’s death. Jesse only lasted another three weeks after the mission before he realized he couldn’t take it anymore. Fareeha had left for the military, Genji had left for peace, Angela was working at Oasis most of the time, and Gabe was just as distrustful as Jesse himself. The only person he had left had been Ana.

So, with his mind made up, Jesse left an informal resignation letter (that was closer to an apology) on Gabe’s desk before sneaking out one day. Jesse was thirty years old, not formally recognized as a person as Blackwatch had never created a birth certificate for him, and had no plans.

Three months later, Watchpoint: Zürich blew up, killing the rest of the closest thing he’d ever had to a family.

Lonely Are The Brave

Falling back on the survival instincts that got him through his early childhood, Jesse traveled the world as an outlaw. No one could trace who placed the first bounty on his head, but his gut told him Talon managed it somehow. After that, the price kept racking up.

There were some things he fully deserved the blame for: some robberies, breaking and entering chargers, a few bar fights, a couple assassination jobs... nothing that would amount to $60,000,000 however. Most of the time he was used as a scape goat. Governments couldn’t pin crimes on an organization they didn’t know was there, after all.

Jesse spent most of his time investigating Talon. He did research, exchanged favors, raided bases, and questioned agents. Everything he’d learned in Blackwatch was put to use, though it was much slower without a team to provide support. However, following Talon around meant he was usually in the wrong place at the wrong time, making him an easy target for the law.

Just after the news of the explosion reached him was the worst. In order to cope with the loss, he drank himself into a stupor, loosing several weeks to a blackout binge. For the next month he was in and out of lucidity, staying mostly sober just long enough to get to a new town before drinking some more. Without meaning to, he made his way back to his roots in New Mexico.

It was there that Jesse stumbled across the ruins of Deadlock, working to rebuild themselves to their former glory. Not caring if he made it to the next day or not, Jesse charged in with gun blazing. It’s no surprise that he was overpowered and caught.

After several days of torture, Jesse was visited by none other than Winchester himself. Since the Blackwatch sting he’d been working to rebuild his gang, refusing to go down without more of a fight. After seeing Jesse on the news when Blackwatch was exposed, he realized their Deadeye had turned traitor.

Traitors, he said, didn’t deserve to wear the mark of those they betrayed.

Deep in Deadlock Gorge, where no one could hear his screams, Winchester used a power saw to remove the arm with the Deadlock tattoo that Jesse had gotten as a teenager. After, they dumped him out in the gorge, leaving him to his fate and assuming he’d never make it.

But Jesse, at his core, is a survivor. He managed to get himself to one of his old Blackwatch contacts, a back alley doctor in New Mexico, who patched him up enough that he’d live. After that, he cashed in a few favors down in Dorado to get a prosthetic arm. It wasn’t the sleekest, but it did what he needed it to. And for a bit of petty payback, he had a skull grafted on the forearm.

High Noon

Six years of being on the run had pulled Jesse back into his shell. The few people he would still consider trusting were lost to the wind, none of them having been contacted since before he left Blackwatch. He had contacts, those who owed him favors, and those who paid him for jobs, but no allies. No friends.

However, despite himself, Jesse missed his found family. So he kept the old Blackwatch communicator, though he never expected to use it.

The drinking problem he’d gotten rid of in Blackwatch had come back with a vengeance. Jesse wandered the world mostly aimless, wanting to take out Talon while also not caring if they took him out first. He was only alive due to a mix of stubborn pride and sheer dumb luck. It was only in the heat of the a showdown that he’d decide someone wasn’t worthy to take him out, that they needed to be put in their place. His will to live was weak, but his willingness to give up was entirely nonexistent.

Then he received Winston’s Recall notice. The video was inspiring on it’s own, but the sight of an old friend meant more to him. Because it had been Winston, instead of some nobody agent he didn’t know, Jesse actually considered responding. He spent three days thinking about it before making up his mind.

Talon had infiltrated Overwatch once, and while he wanted to trust Winston, trust anyone else who responded to the Recall, he wouldn’t allow himself to be a part of that again. His job was to stop Talon, and no matter how long it took on his own, he was determined to do it. If, after he’d dealt with the terrorists, Overwatch was still around, he’d reconsider.

But... if they both had the same goal of stopping Talon, well. He wouldn’t hate it if they happened to run into each other while chasing down the same bad guy.

TL;DR

Jesse grew up in Santa Fe with drug addicted, neglectful parents. His mother died when he was young, driving his father to alcoholism and abuse. After borrowing money from the Deadlock Gang, and being unable to pay it back, his father sold Jesse to Deadlock at age eleven. At fourteen he made his first kill in order to save another kid trying to escape from a rival gang. Blackwatch took down Deadlock when he was seventeen, and his skill interested Reyes enough to offer him a job. Blackwatch whipped him into shape and also managed to help him open up emotionally... at least until Talon managed to infiltrate and tear Overwatch down from the inside. When he was twenty-six he was promoted to Second-in-Command of Blackwatch. Ana’s death was the final straw that made him leave at age thirty. Shortly after that, Deadlock caught him and cut off his arm, causing him to get a prosthetic. Jesse refused to answer the Recall notice, but is going to continue fighting Talon on his own.

#tw drugs #tw addiction #tw alcohol #tw child abandonment #tw selling a child #tw child abuse #tw death #tw emotional manipulation #tw torture #tw loss of limb #tw ptsd #oh gosh there's so much #please let me know if i missed anything #there's nothing explicitly graphic #just stating facts of 'this happened'#⟴ headcanon ⟞

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thegjripper90 · 7 years ago

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Reactions to Wrestlemania 34

Chyna just might be resting a little more peacefully, now that a badass woman finally beat up her ex and his wife.

The Empress and The Queen brought honor to themselves tonight.

The New Day just played the Dragon Dagger Jingle... on a trombone. I was laughing hard at that!

Now why did John Cena run off like that? (coughdeadmancough)

Jinder did well for India. Not a fan of the disrespectful side to his character, but I can respect a man who is proud of his country.

The Cruiserweight Title match was on the level of NXT’s finest matches, and that is saying a great deal.

Both battle-royals were enjoyable to watch, LOVING that Bayley got her revenge. What does Wyatt have in mind for Woken/Broken Matt?

The Bludgeon Brothers showed their dominate nature, now they have tag-team gold.

Here it comes... John Cena vs...

Wait for it...

What...? OK Elias... you do your thing.

Elias may be skilled at playing the old Guitar, but...

to a quote an audience member: “THAT’S WHAT YOU GET!”

The lights are out...

THE OUTFIT!

Its gone...?

THE GONG! OHHHHH YESSSS!

He had to make his ego rest in peace, now we got a match!

My stomach feels odd right now...

Let the battle be watched closely, for this will be the last of the Deadman (maybe).

For the lore’s sake, John Cena needed the gut check. But will the Undertaker be seen earlier than the next wrestlemania as a competitor? Will he be seen at all? At any rate, the Deadman has redeemed the loss of his streak completely. May it rest in peace.

Ah the Hall of Fame, home to legendary wrestlers, celebrities, young cancer-fighting kids, Donald Trump, and GOOOOOLDBEEERRRRG!

Of course Goldberg comes in last!

Daniel Bryan’s in-ring return coming up, will he and Shane lose to promote Daniel’s underdog gimmick? Lets find out!

The Yes Movement has gone viral indeed!

The man who the WWE once did not want over, is now permanently over with the fans as he steps into the ring.

With Daniel out for now, Shane is going 1-on-2 on Sami and Kevin.

Daniel came back to break up a pin, as expected!

Daniel on is FIRE!

DANIEL AND SHANE WIN! While still promoting Daniel’s underdog gimmick too! Welcome back you lovable Goat, and well done everyone else!

Oh and calling it, Sami and Kevin will come back within a year’s time.

Now here is hoping that 78,133 attendance number was not exaggerated.

Coming up: a classic story of a unique individual taking on a manipulative bully who fancies herself above everyone else. Nia will eat her for lunch tonight.

Mickie James is with Alexa... more food for Nia Jax. (Shinedown’s Bully plays in the background).

Nia destroys Mickie before the bell rings. I love this match already.

Alexa tried to run, but Nia is the Juggernaut: You can’t run!

Nia was the Sans to Alexa’s Frisk: She gave her a bad time! GREAT MATCH!

AJ Styles: Once the Pride of TNA and one of Japan’s stars. Shinsuke Nakamura: A charismatic Japanese legend. Both are breakout WWE stars. Both have fought each other before. Both collide again.

BOTH violin and ROCK & ROLL! NAKAMURA!

Two of my favorite wrestlers have put on a clinic of a lifetime! Well done AJ and Nakamura! Congrats to AJ for his win!

I FORGOT ABOUT THE BAR VS. BRAWN AND SOME RANDOM DOOD!

Good on The Bar for coming in New Orleans Style!

Brawn’s partner is...

an audience member?!

A CHILD! Brawn will win this single-handedly, because NO ONE WILL LET A CHILD GET HURT, NOT EVEN VINNY! Right?

Right?

NICHOLAS! I am calling it, Nicholas will be a Hall of Famer one day!

NICHOLAS WITH THE DISTRACTION! What a match! Nicholas is now a Tag Team Champion! He will be a Hall of Famer one day, I am telling you all!

So I honestly thought that the Money in Bank would be used on Asuka, I was wrong (thank God).

Now we got the other match that I forgot about, yet I think will be a darn good one: Brock Lesnar VS. Roman Reigns.

As a heads up, Roman actually got a cheer from the crowd on the last Raw, that normally DOES NOT HAPPEN!

We might just see the last match of Brock Lesnar’s time in the WWE (maybe, unless the money is good).

Last time these two fought, the crowd cheered as Brock invented Suplex City. This time, however, the crowd is not so keen on cheering him on.

“LETS GO ROMAN!” “ROMAN SUCKS!” - The crowd.

Roman just won’t quit, and the fans seem to be respecting that, even with the boos.

“THIS IS AWFUL!” “BORING!” - The crowd, clearing having enough of the one-sided affair.

BLOOD FROM ROMAN, and the screen is in color!

The crowd cheers the end of the match, as Brock Lesnar wins and solidifies the fact that he will return with the belt when the money is right.

Roman Reigns, you may have been the subject of a forced push by Vince, you may have been pushed over Daniel ages ago, but you have earned my respect tonight!

As for the match itself (now that I have had time to reflect); it was too one-sided and had a terrible case of finisher abuse. It would be less of an issue if it were booked to happen before AJ VS. Shinsuke and if Roman could get more hits in. But as it happens, the finisher abuse and its one-sided nature, due to folks misunderstanding how to make this type of match entertaining, made the fight, as the fans put it, boring to them. It did tell a good story of Roman, a full-time performer, giving everything he’s got to take down the disrespectful part-timer for the crud that he pulled. Regardless of the ending, I just wish it did not bore the fans so much.

That whimper of a finale aside, this was a fully stacked and enjoyable Wrestlemania this year!

#wrestlemaina34 #wrestlemania #wwe

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therandomletters · 5 years ago

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Stolen Dance

That Friday night was one of the nicest nights I can remember, my heart was so full of joy by being surrounded by my family, not all of them, but we made it up for that by telling stories about whatever we could remember in that moment. Bianca looked like she was enjoying it as much as the rest of us and she even told us some of her stories from back home.

We were enjoying ourselves so much that we stayed up until 2 a.m., surprising, specially for Bianca and me. We’d had a long day before coming here, so when we went upstairs I didn’t have time to show any of that part of the house to Bianca, not even my room because she fell asleep on my bed with her clothes still on. I took the floor.

But today is a new day, today is Saturday and what could go wrong? Well, let me tell you, a lot of things.

First thing I know I’m being waken up with a pillow attack not only from Bianca, but also from Cam.

“Stoooooop” I’m still a little out of place when I open my eyes and I found that I am in my room and not my dorm, so I get my head under the pillow I took to sleep on the floor.

“It’s already noon, are you planning on sleeping all day?” I can feel how they are trying to take my pillow away, so I fight harder, which results on Cam dragging me across the floor.

“CAMERON” the second my skin touches the cold wooden floor I can’t help but scream her name repeatedly, something that seems amusing to her as she drags me out to the corridor.

I feel stupid when I realize I only have to let go of the pillow, so I suddenly stop gripping the soft material and Cameron flies across the corridor, her body crashing against the bathroom door.

Now it’s me the one laughing, still on the floor looking at her puzzled expression, one that quickly changes and I know she’s coming for me. I get up from the floor as quick as I can and run back into our room, slamming the door behind me, I’m out of breath from all the laughing.

“I’ll get you eventually” Cameron says from the other side of the door before leaving, I can hear the footsteps getting farther.

Keeping my back against the door I wait to get my breathing back to normal. Bianca was too quiet the whole time and I can only wonder what she’s up to, she is of course inspecting every corner of my room.

A room is supposed to be a representation of yourself, right? Well I haven’t changed my since junior year, I think. I haven’t taken anything down nor I have put new things up, I don’t know if saying that senior year ended up being busier than expected was a good excuse, but it was the one I go for.

“Is that the famous Beckett?” my friend looks at me as she points at one of the pictures pinned to the wall, I had never shown her or the rest of my friends a picture of Beckett or anyone but my family actually, so I shouldn’t be laughing so hard at the fact that she’s pointing at a picture of me licking Caleb’s face as he is making the most disgusted expression ever.

“God no, that’s Caleb” I manage to say when I see how confused she looks as to why I am laughing.

I make my way to where she’s standing and I take a quick glance at all the pictures – honestly there’s a lot, but I know pretty well where I have them placed.

“That’s Beckett” it was one of the first pictures I took of him, during our first date, he wasn’t even aware I was taking a picture of him.

I point to a different one, this time it’s both of us at the mall, trying on sunglasses and making silly faces. My finger moves to a third one, prom, we couldn’t have looked better even if we had tried to.

That is what I count as my prom, even if it actually wasn’t because I was still a junior, but we had a blast that night and I liked the idea of remembering that as my prom. All the pictures and videos we took, how we danced and danced to every song until Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls started playing, because of course I was gonna get his favorite song to play during his prom night, but I specially remember how I didn’t want the night to end.

So yeah, I didn’t attend my own prom when I was finally a senior year student, it was not possible to top that and by that time I was already over high school.

“Oh he’s cute” Bianca is checking the rest of the pictures I have with Beckett or just random pictures of Beckett I used to take all the time “and hot” I simply nod as I keep looking at the prom picture, reliving those moments in my head.

I hadn’t seen a picture of us in so long, even if I had all this pictures here I was so used to see them that I didn’t really look at them the way I am taking them in right now and it was making me miss him so badly.

I bite my lip, like that is going to make me stop thinking about it, actually it has the opposite effect. I start thinking about the way he used to call me Jasmine, no one calls me Jasmine unless I’m in trouble and they use my whole name, but Beckett gave a complete new meaning to Jasmine. He used it in such a sweet and intimate way it would make my heart melt every time.

Ever since I met Gabriel he has called me Jasmine a few times and it’s funny because I even get annoyed by it, it reminds me of Beckett and how I don’t have him anymore.

That’s it, I need to stop. Come on Jazz, just take your eyes away from the photograph, it’s not that hard.

The knock on the door makes both of us turn around, just to find James. He didn’t look as great as the night before, he looked like he hadn’t slept all night and the chill and relax aura was gone, he looked anxious now, but overall he looked like he was trying to keep himself together.

“Dad wants to talk to you” he announced “Sutton and I are gonna play videogames, wanna join?” it took Bianca less than a second to agree.

“I’m about to become your sister-in-law” She whispers when James wasn’t at the door anymore “do I look good?” I know she’s half joking, but the other half of her is completely serious about this.

“You look great” I chuckle, giving her thumbs up as she gives me a last look and walks out the door to join James and Sutton.

Once she’s gone I can start worrying about what my dad wants to talk to me about and why couldn’t he had said anything last night when I arrived. I’m probably just thinking too much into it, I always do that, but I just like being in control.

My dad is downstairs, so that is where I’m headed after putting on some clothes and getting ready for what’s left of the day, I have plans for Bianca and me, places I want to show her, people I want her to meet, like every single Barnes I can get a hold of.

“Did we win the lottery and you want to give me my part?” I joke entering the kitchen, where he is sitting at the table with his laptop – it’s so weird to see him interact with technology, the faces he makes are indescribable.

There is no laugh, not even a simple smile, is it really that bad? I mean he doesn’t look like I did something that is now getting me in trouble, but he looks somehow sad.

“Take a seat” I don’t question him, I just do what he says and sit next to him, waiting to know what’s going on “Jazz…” he rubs the frown formed between his brows before looking at me “I didn’t want to tell you this while your friend is here, but I won’t have another time” this is only getting weirder and I don’t like when people beat around the bush, my dad knows that and I can tell he realizes by the expression on his face and how he continues right after “you know mom’s dance studio was up for sale” thanks for the reminder, not like I cried like a baby when he told me those news “an offer came in and I sold it a few days ago” I didn’t react to his words, I was still making myself to the idea of it being up for sale in the first place and now all of the sudden it wasn’t ours anymore “and they are tearing it down on Monday” my eyes go wide, that was a whole new and huge step “I’m sorry sweetheart” I had started crying already, how not to when one of the worst things possible was becoming a reality.

I want to tell him that it is okay, that I understand he needs the money, all of us need it. But I can’t form the words, I can’t tell him I’m not mad at him for doing it, so I can only hope that he knows I’m not mad and that I totally understand. The best way I have to tell him that is leaning in for a hug. I wrap my arms around his waist and he’s quick to hug me back, pulling me closer as he caresses my hair and kisses the top of my head while I cry my eyes out.

Beckett Chapter 2 | Chapter 5

#jazz rogers #avengers au #original character #original story #stolen dance #imagine

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awakeningofthedeath · 7 years ago

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Awakening of the Death-Chapter #4

Never in all of his life did he felt unexpectedly surprised. Not at the fact that there are some illegal fighting rings in the Irish district of New York City; but the founding fact that Hellen was preparing to fight in the ring. He had seen her without her robes before, but he noticed new details upon her body. There were small circular scars that were white with age at the base of the neck. There were other scars of various lengths and sizes that seemed faded. The wound on Hellen’s arm had healed up nicely, even at the cost of days of Hellen’s nightly shots of her whiskey. Hellen finished braiding her hair and pulled out a set of old wraps from the pocket of her robes. As Hellen struggled to wrap the wraps on her arm, Jack came over to Hellen, and without a word wrapped each of Hellen’s hands.

As Hellen was about to thank Jack, a large mussel bound man with a cigar in his mouth approached to them. His blond musquash was stained with the floating cigar smoke and ashes. “So...the little street mouse has returned for another round.” He then looked to Jack, who was glaring at him suspiciously. The man inhaled his cigar, the tip embers glowed as he breathed deep, then exhaled the smoke towards them. “Who’s the Cinderella here? Haven’t seen him around. Looks more British to me.” The man’s thick Scottish accent increased in dialect as if sending the message of uncertainty towards Jack.

Hellen raised a hand as in a “hold your fire” command. She pulled a small roll of paper money and placed it into the Scottish man’s hands. “He and I are entering.”

He counted the money with a sausage finger counted the money. “You against each other?”

Jack was about to abject when Hellen replied, “Not unless he and I are the finalists.”

The Scottish man looked at Jack and smiled. “Seems that this match is going to be interesting. You’ve fought in a ring before boy?”

Jack nodded. “I had my taste of blood in the rings. Yes”

“Excellent!” He reached towards a crate a grabbed a rolled up bunch of wraps. “You better use theses boy. And for Hell’s fire coals take off that coat. I’m sweating more looking at you before my first fight of the day.” He looked at Hellen again and smirked. “Best of luck to you street mouse. You and Cinderella there must be damn good to invest all this.” He then handed the money to the book keeper and headed towards one corner of the ring.

Jack wanted to ask what he meant, but he decided not to answer. He unbuttoned his belt and his coat. He placed his coat on top of Hellen’s robes. He then started to wrap his own hands, preparing himself mentally to fight in the ring.

At this time, Hellen couldn’t help but noticed Jack’s bared chest. She had seen many half naked men before, most of them in the rings or the outlaws in Jame’s gang when a hot humid day would be overbearing. She noticed that there was a long white scar on the upper right chest/shoulder area. She noticed how hard each of his mussels were. Jack was finishing wrapping his hands when he turned to see what Hellen must of guessed she had been staring at him. Hellen snapped herself back to her senses and walked towards the ring, he cheeks felt warm. What the Hell is wrong with you Hellen? You’ve seen half naked men before, he’s no different. He’s...he’s...

“Gather round ladies bucks! We have ourselves a fighting day that will guarantee to never bore us!” The ring leader’s voice interrupted Hellen’s thought as the fight was about to start. She spat upon the ground, and checked her hair tie to see if the braid was secure.

“You know men would play dirty by pulling it, right?” Jack asked from behind. He was stretching his massive arms out and above his head.

“Yes I know. That’s the idea behind it, to give the fools a white lie of an opportunity. And then...” Hellen stopped and smirked a light laugh.

“What?” Jack tilted his head in confusion.

“I shouldn’t be telling you my secrets. You and I may fight each other some point. I was close to being the idiot of the day!”

Jack shook his head. “Don’t call yourself an idiot. It’s good to have a plan for this type of fight.”

Hellen nodded and both watched the first five sets of opponents beating the blood and sweat off of each other. The Scottish man they’d encountered had proved to be a great deal to face when either Jack or Hellen make it to the finalists. Whist they fought, Jack took the opportunity to ask, “Why did that man kept calling you a street mouse?”

Hellen scoffed and placed a hand on her eyes. “He calls me that because at one point I sneezed, and if you ever heard me sneeze, it squeaks like a mouse. Ever since Scotty there heard me before a fight, he always called me a street mouse. When I opposed, he would reply ‘Better that then calling you a rat or bitch then lassie.’ So yes, I suppose it could’ve been hell of a lot worse.”

Jack nodded. “I was only known as Jack the Lad all my life. I never knew any sir names from my mot...”

“HOLY MARY! The Scottish Goliath has taken down the sly one!” Jack and Hellen turned to see one of the fighters laying upon the blood stained street ally coughing out chunks of blood. Two men took him by the arms upon their shoulders and dragged him out. “And next into the ring facing this running champion is our very own lady of the streets. The formal madame of a place where she still managed to guard her secrete honor. The one I only pray that a man be a brave bastard to fall for this one. May I present to you, facing out running champion, Hellen Patterson!”

As Hellen jumped into the ring, Jack questioned, “Madame?”

Hellen turned and said, “Long story, but will probably tell you soon.” She went to the center of the arena facing the massive Scottish fighter, who smelled of cheap tobacco. Hellen smirked and said, “Where you find such a week batch Scotty? My cigarettes have more bite then that piece of shite I’m smelling.”

The Scottish’s face turned red from the insult.“Watch it street mouse! I can be more harder on you, perhaps knocking out all those pretty teeth out of your...”

“ALRIGHT! ALIGHT!” The ring master steps between the two opponents. “Let’s not cause a fight before the fight shall we? I will be brief for you both. I expect a good clean fight from all of you. And you sir, I suggest you not damage this girl too much, or you’d be facing her suitor there with a vengeance.” He pointed his eyes towards Jack.

Before Hellen could object about Jack being a suitor, he then steps back and yells, “Let the match begin!” He backed out of the middle with such speed as the Scottish man thew a fist towards Hellen, she dodged the first one, and he tried to reach for the long pony tail that moved all around like a cat’s tail playing for a toy. She managed to throw a punch underneath the large Scottish man’s pointed. Hellen then felt the man’s arm punching her in the gut. Both struggled to remain standing, but never ceased to collapse to the floor. Then, Hellen saw the moment of weakness. She noticed a fresh wound on the man’s side that not even he noticed. Possibly from another opponent right from the beginning. She charged towards him, and threw a side kicks on the lower left side where a wound the size of a peach showed itself. The Scottish man screamed with shock as he got to one knee. But as Hellen was about to strike again, he grabbed her shirt and rammed his head upon her forehead. A split of blood trailed down from her forehead.

Jack gripped his rage. How could a man fight low as to grab a woman’s shirt and ram her head.

“Thats below the belt there!” A man shouted.

“Really?” Another man yelled. “I’m as surprised he didn’t get to see what was in front of his face. Those breasts sure be...”

“SHUT IT!” Jack turned and yelled at the man. The individual stood in fear as he stared at Jack’s angry domineer.

As Jack was about to step over towards the spectator, he head a crowd cheering. He turned to see Hellen throwing a kick on the Scottish man’s bleeding side and ramming at the back base of his neck with an elbow. The man was out cold.

“Unbelievable! Miss. Patterson had managed to knock down a reining champ a single blow!” the announcer took Hellen’s hand and lifted her arm in the air for victory. The crowd cheered. Many of the man whistling and howling in admiration. Jack stood with great curiosity.

Over the course, Jack himself fought a few of the following men. He came out with only a few punches, but enough to cause some significant damages to his opponent. Including the one fighter who commented on Hellen’s breasts. He came out of the ring with a broken nose and busted rib.

Finally, it came down to the final two: Jack and Hellen.

Hellen herself had a few to fight off as well, and managed to hold herself well in the ring. She was covered with blood that wasn’t her own, yet some cuts and bruises were present. She and Jack faced each other. She noticed the man in front of her was covered with sweat and dust with little blood upon him. His demeanor was strong, yet she noticed in his eyes that they seemed to be apprehensive. The ring leader gave the rules and demanded a clean match. Before the leader stepped aside, Hellen uttered, “If you go easy on me, I’ll be pusy.”

“Let the battle for the prize begin!” The announcer cried out as he backed out.

Hellen threw the first punch and it landed upon Jack’s chin. He scrambled in surprise, and placed a finger to see blood trickling down his lip.

“COME ON YOU BASTARD! FIGHT THE GIRL!”

“GIVE HER WHAT SHE’D CAME FOR!”

“ARE YOU A MAN OR A SMUCK! FIGHT!”

The crowd roars in a mixture of Protest or encouragement while others encouraged Hellen. Jack then dodged another punch from Hellen as she kept on attacking him. He would block, dodge, and avoid every attack if possible. Yet Hellen seems to always give him the harder ends. She then came from behind and with her arm gave a chock hold, while pinning his dominant hand with the other.

“Damn it Jack! I told you don’t hold back on me!” Hellen growled as she tightened around, causing him to groan. “I know you can fight better then this, I’ve seen it before...”

But Jack couldn’t hear the rest of what Hellen was saying. His vision suddenly changed to a dark dampened space. He felt his neck being held back by a nurse as the doctors in the hell of an asylum started to place treatments that he himself couldn’t recall.

The boy needed the strength.

To be free.

To fight back.

He broke away from the grip and grabbed the arm that held him in tacked. And he knew it was time to fight back.

Hellen landed on her shoulders with a thump, the sand scrapped her bare shoulder. She got up and faced Jack. His eyes seemed distant and clouded. As if a wounded dog preparing to attach. He then lunged towards Hellen and began to attack. Hellen dodged over every blow he threw at her. She lost her footing and one point, but rolled away intimate before his punch meet the floor.

“ABOUT DAMN TIME!”

“COME ON LASS!”

“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?”

Hellen breathed hard, sweat trailed down the dust and blood. Then as she tried to defend again, her world went still when a great force came to the side of her head. Hellen laid on the ground, stunned, her lung tried hard to restart after the massive impact. She then got herself up and coughed out a mass of blood. She knew that this man, Jack, was more then she could take. Thank God he’s on my side. She’d thought as her breathing came back hard with a bit of a cough. She rolled over, and gestured to the ringleader the signal of surrender. As Hellen got herself up, she said to Jack, “Damn Jack. What a punch! Haven’t felt that punch that hard since a draft kicked me once.”

Jack couldn’t hear anything, his mind had cleared; yet he was shocked at what he just witnessed. Instead of the nurse bleeding on the sand floor, Hellen laid on her side, blood coming from her cheek and mouth. Jack’s heart pounded with fear.

Hell no!

Not now!

Not again!

Did I killed her?

His eyes shifted when he heard Hellen coughing. She was spitting out her own blood and tried lifted herself off from the floor. He ran towards her and lifted her up as she insured herself that she was alright. He couldn’t hear the rest of the words. He pushed himself through the crowd as the gathered around Hellen to check on Hellen. He shoved a few men who tried to give him a bath of money. He grabbed his coat off the coat, then started to run past the streets.

Hellen watched with confusion and questions. What the Hell happened to him?

When Hellen excepted the money on behalf of Jack, and her wounds were treated by a medical nurse on the stand by, she set off into the streets to find Jack.

She searched through the streets for the rest of the day. It wasn’t until she finally used her ability to find Jack’s tracks. To which Hellen realized that words were trailed. As she followed, the unknown stains trailed in the walls.

Monster

murder?

Why?

Why Hellen?

She followed the trail to the apartment they shared. She found a pile of bloody bandages at the base of the building outside. She looked up and her instincts made her started to climb.

Well pa, guess it’s time Jack and I have a before Jesus talk. Hope all the talks you gave me all those years help me out now. How would...Hellen sighed as she climbed up the roof, and saw Jack sitting against the roof shingles, staring upon the city. Here goes nothing Pa.

#Assassin's Creed Syndicate #awakening of the death #jack the ripper #jacktheripper #dlc #assassin's creed #hellen patterson #fighting ring #scene #jack the lad #jacellen #flashbacks #PTSD #fight club

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ecotone99 · 5 years ago

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[RF] Can the Past be Trusted

First, you should probably know that I’m not even sure if I’m sane anymore. If I was I wouldn’t even be talking to you, but they want me to, the people around me they all want me to do it. They all want me to talk to you. But you don’t. You don’t want me to, every time I try to talk to you, you shut it down. You-You say things like, “I’m not the person you want to confess to,” or, “You have better people that you should talk to.” You’re always putting yourself down when I try to confess…when I try to tell you what’s wrong with me. But you can help. If anyone can help it’s you, why won’t you help me? I could really use it at this point. Hell, I could use a lot of things at this point. But none of it will happen, nope. Nothing good ever happens to me, I’ve, seen, done… things, that no human in their right mind would do. That no person would think about doing, but I’ve done them! I know I have. There’s no way around it. Unless…no…they happened, I know they did! They had to have happened…They…had to… I don’t even know anymore, I’m a fucking schizo. Let’s see, I’m, James, that’s right, James. James…. James…. James…. Archer? That’s right that’s my name, god I can’t even keep them straight anymore, I just want them to stop, I just want them to be quiet. Just be quiet. JUST…SHUT UP!!!!!

Wait….they stopped, they, they actually stopped! It’s quiet… I have to be fast or they’ll come back okay, listen. It started years ago, I was, let’s see…I was 17, right, I was a senior in high school, there was…a new kid in class. He seemed kind of like he was ignored by everyone else so I figured I’d be his friend, I was that way, I always managed to assemble rag-tag teams out of social outcasts. But regardless, I introduced him to my friends, Colin, the misfit of the group that constantly got into trouble, especially with drugs, Coin, he was the guy that knew all of the worthless party tricks, there-there was, Mai, one of the only girls in the group, that I’d gone out with for a bit but we broke up and remained friends, what- who else, there were more, oh, there was Aiden, he played um. I think, he played basketball? Yeah, basketball. And last was…last was, Cook, Cook was…he was the most different, he…he could do amazing things, he could hack into…into…anything. He almost got caught hacking into the Pentagon once… almost.

The new kid though, he was…he didn’t seem to be all there, he... I invited him to sit with us at lunch but he just didn’t…no…wait, he just, he never showed up to lunch at all, ever, I just. Why didn’t he, what was his name? I… I… Can’t remember anything… Who was he? No. Right. No. He. He wasn’t anyone, he, he’s the first person, no he’s not a person, he was the first voice that started speaking to me, that’s why he never showed up, yeah, that’s why, he didn’t. He wouldn’t have been welcome anyway, he couldn’t show up because if I introduced him, all the other people, all my friends, would know, they’d know I was insane, I am insane. I couldn’t let them know, that’s that’s why he never showed up. I was trying to protect myself.

Then later, that’s when I – ohhhh god we’re high up, why did I decide to talk here, on top of the bridge, I know why, I... I like to look down at the cars and see how small they are, just like ants, they pass by below us the people inside never knowing how small they really are. But up here, up here I feel in control, I feel like…like I’m God. Haha, it’s…. it’s a new feeling every time, probably because I control so little about my own life I… I mean…….No. No focus James, focus, story, bridge is not important right now. Not. Important. Ok I was… where was I… New kid, after I realized he wasn’t real, I… I knew I couldn’t let anyone know about him, he wasn’t real and I couldn’t even acknowledge him, I just knew he was a figment of my imagination, if I let him convince me he was real it would only make things worse. But I didn’t, I never acknowledged him. I just ignored his very existence. But… now, four years later, oh god, he… he would’ve been the least of my problems. It was. We didn’t go to college, none of us, we all…something changed. What changed? I can’t, I remember…it was the hack. Cook, Cook happened, and he tried to hack into the Pentagon, yeah. He did it. But, no that story ended happily. No…. It… it would’ve ended happily but, I… I interfered, right. I. I shot him… he… he threatened to pin it on me… after the news broadcast that the NSA was close to tracking the source of the hack, I…. I shot him… The news of the murder never got out but the hack also never got traced. Cook…. Cook covered his tracks. But by then… by then it was too late, I couldn’t take back what I’d done. Sometimes he’d try to talk to me though, but I knew it wasn’t him, it was just my head.

Then, next it was Coin. I… I didn’t mean to. We… we were running from our hometown… we all knew what Cook was up to and we couldn’t take the risk of anyone finding us. So we ran, me, Mai, Coin, Aiden, Colin. We… were running and we, just wanted to have some fun so we… decided to race, I was driving, it was Coin and Aiden in the other car, Aiden, was driving and we had fun but the car, it… flipped, he lost control and it flipped, it… Coin was crushed inside of the car… we tried to help him but we couldn’t do anything. Coin was gone.

We were careful after that, we didn’t do anything reckless we just drove, we lived the lives we wanted, me and Mai, we… we’d both been through a lot and we… got back together but I… I don’t know it seemed so real, like we were going to be together forever, I… I should’ve… I should’ve known better. We were in need of money, so Mai, she… she volunteered to hack an ATM, it was a solid plan, nothing could’ve gone wrong except, she… she never could cover her tracks as good as Cook. They traced it, and found her, she ran so that they wouldn’t find us, I… I tried to chase after her but she rounded a corner and I heard a gunshot, then I saw her body fall back and I could see her face… it had a look of pure shock.

I was devastated but we had to run. Aiden pulled me around the corner and we jumped in the car we had to run farther, we ran up north, to New England. We were almost away but I… I was getting worse, the voices of everyone… Cook, Coin, Mai…. They were always talking to me and it was driving me insane I just… I couldn’t handle it… I… killed Aiden… I didn’t mean to I didn’t. I just… they all told me it was his fault, Coin told me Aiden swerved the car and Mai said he threatened me and forced her to hack the ATM, and Cook… Cook told me Aiden said they wouldn’t even know he’d hacked in.

Colin saw what I did and we both ran, he knew I wasn’t right in the head. Then… then we ran into you, and… you were just on the side of the road… looking for someone to give you a ride…. You got us. The three of us… we ran around and we… we just…. We were almost safe… we were almost free. God just wasn’t done though… God wanted to screw with me one last time…. He wanted to make me suffer. Colin… got shot… in a driveby… you remember? We were in the motel and it happened so fast….

Now… we’re here… you… god you’re beautiful… and you’re not even real…"

“I’m real.”

"That’s what you say but it isn’t true I know it isn’t."

“Listen, I’m real, but, when I joined you… No one else was with you… Colin wasn’t around.”

"But…no… NO! You, you’re lying."

“I’m not lying… think back to high school, think about the details, something isn’t right.”

"I thought back but no everyone was gone. I was at lunch alone, everything that I thought had happened… was fake… nothing was true… none of them were real… all of it was just…. My mind…. I have to end it… I do I just have to end it now."

“I won’t stop you, but I’m going with you…”

"Okay… let’s go."

The ground disappears from under my feet and the air rushes past my ears then… nothing.

A doctor in Manhattan turns on his TV and changes it to the local news. “Yesterday evening there was a double-suicide here at Brooklyn Bridge. No one knows why the couple committed sui-“ the TV shuts off.

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reesesxxpieces-blog · 7 years ago

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With just two days before vacation, Spencer was optimistic about the weekend before her. She and John had scored a night alone together only once or twice since Rhys was born in May of 2016 and it was high time she and John found who /they/ were once again, outside of the boys, just the two of them. She knew the trip was going to take its toll on the both of them as they were so heavily vested in their boys and the family dynamic, but at the end of the day, none of it worked if they weren’t connected to one another entirely on a different plane than what parenthood provided. Before Rhys was born, it was just the two of them and their dog, Scrappy. But within a few weeks of Rhys’ birth, they brought River to live with them and went from just the two of them to the four of them nearly overnight. The both of them adjusted to things quickly and found a seamless pattern to it all, juggling life with two kids under two quite well, considering. But now it was time to recharge.

Or so she thought.

Just after breakfast on Tuesday morning, Spencer was standing in the kitchen, washing the dishes while John changed diapers and got Rhys down for a nap. River would get his time with his dad while Spencer cleaned up the breakfast mess, then they’d be at it again for lunch when both boys would take a nap and she and John would have about two hours to recharge their own batteries before the evening rush. Evenings were her favorite. This was when they’d have dinner, play outside, go for a walk, watch television together, read books. It was almost like the end of the day held the most magic for Spencer and she couldn’t wait for it each and every day. But as she dried off the last dish from breakfast, her cell phone rang on the end of the counter. Not expecting it to be much of anything, figuring only that maybe Judas had finally gotten around to calling her about the plans for the weekend, she made her way to the phone to find a name displayed on the caller I.d. that she did not expect. ‘Sergeant Matthews.’ She drew a deep breath, prepared to hear on the other end that he needed her in for yet /another/ round of interrogation.

“Sergeant Matthews,” she stated in greeting, clearing her voice just after his name, looking over at John there in the living room with the boys on the sofa where diaper changing was taking place before Rhys would go upstairs for his nap, fully expecting to hear that interrogation was needed, again. That she’d be asked a sea of questions that she would repeat the same answers to over, and over, and over again. Already planning on telling him she couldn’t come in until after 1 p.m. for the interrogation and that she had to be out by 3 p.m.

’Detective Reese—James,’ he offered, correcting himself as almost two years later, half the department still struggled with her name change. ‘I have some news for you in the case of your husband’s attempted murder. You have been cleared of all charges and are expected to report back to work this evening.’ His voice was sharp and professional, just as it always was. Unfeeling without congratulations or apology for the hell he had put her through over the last eight months. Spencer swallowed hard, not sure she’d heard him right, and yet it was right there.

“This evening? But that’s not my normal shift,” she offered, surprise there in her voice as she tried to understand what was going on while not entirely sure how she felt about it at all. If she was to be reinstated, she’d expected that it would be on her shift with her partner, not running beat in the middle of the night. Unless this was some way to make her pay for being out when it wasn’t her doing in the slightest, she wasn’t sure, but she was no grunt cop and she wasn’t about to start now. If she was losing her shift and her partner, then she’d be damn near willing to lose the badge as well.

‘I realize. Turns out we’re short tonight and we’ll need you to pull the overnight and a partial tomorrow. You’ll be with Wilcox tonight and Ryan in the morning and then return to your regular shifts Thursday with Detective Ryan.’ Hearing him explain things to her, he seemed less than impressed that the woman would throw her weight in the manner that she did, yet he’d answer her just as professionally as he had a moment before, laying out for her how it would be and what would happen here without any fear that the woman would fire back. It was take it or leave it and he didn’t much care what the wife of a criminal chose to do here as his trust in her was weak at best and he still didn’t consider her completely innocent in the case that had taken up too much of the department’s resources for that time period.

“Sergeant, with all due respect, Thursday is out of the question for me. I have plans to go out of town this weekend and they’re nonrefundable.”

‘Then I suggest you buy vacation time from one of your coworkers. I didn’t see a request on my desk, therefore you are not granted time off. Your shift starts at five, Detective. Don’t be late.’

A moment later, the line went dead before Spencer could say a word. She drew the phone down from her ear, placing it on the counter as she stood frozen for a moment, needing to think over what just happened. She drew a slow breath, replaying parts of the conversation in her head as she worked it through. The case had broke. All charges that were previously split between herself and her father were now pinned solely on him. She hadn’t been too worried that they’d get her for anything as she knew she had no involvement in what had happened to John almost a year prior, but she didn’t realize she’d be reinstated and put back to work so promptly either.

Meeting John’s eyes from behind the kitchen counter, looking out towards him there in the living room as Rhys’ diaper change was completed, she wasn’t sure how much of that conversation John had heard and how much of it he was unable to hear over River and his Paw Patrol, but either way, the words had to come from her. She came around the counter, making her way to the sofa where she sat down, feeling slightly weak from the blow of it all. She knew she could buy the time off for the weekend as most detectives would be willing to trade double pay for the extra shifts and she imagined that John could take care of it for them if she didn’t have enough in her own savings, but that wasn’t the part that was sticking her. It was the rest.

Sitting down beside him, her eyes said it all as it wasn’t another call asking her to come in for more interrogation that usually sent the woman into an angry rant. This was something else entirely. This wasn’t altering the plans for the afternoon. This was altering the plans indefinitely. On one hand, she knew they needed the money. She knew this was who she was and she knew there were benefits to having her on the inside to keep John on the outside, but even then, it didn’t seem real to her. Slipping her hand over to John’s thigh, she leaned back against the sofa as River spotted her there in the living room. ‘Ma!’ he cried out, not adding the typical ‘Ma Spen’ that had been coming forth from the boy for the last couple of months. Tears welled in her eyes as the boy called her just ‘Ma’ for the first time as she drew him up into her lap. Running her fingertips through the back of his hair that needed a trim, she looked over at John, hit with the emotion of River’s expression as she pressed her lips to the top of his head.

For several minutes, she sat in silence, breathing in the boy that sat on her lap with her lips pressed to the top of his head, feeling entirely connected to the child as she always had, yet it was somehow amplified with the smallest alteration in his speech. Nearly twenty minutes passed between the time she had sat down and now before she’d finally meet John’s eyes again. Knowing he knew there was something there, but not knowing yet what it was, she couldn’t find the words to tell him that she’d be returning to work that night. She couldn’t figure out how she was going to tell him or River that she wouldn’t be home for dinner or a walk or outside playtime. She wouldn’t be able to read the boys bedtime stories or tuck them in or even crawl into bed with John. She wouldn’t be able to do pancakes in the morning and dance with River to Paw Patrol. She wouldn’t be able to get up with the boys in the middle of the night for Rhys’ midnight snack or River’s 3 a.m. need for his show in her computer. She didn’t know how to say any of it after having all of it for the last eight months or so.

With her hand to John’s thigh, she tightened her grip slightly, meeting his eyes with tears in her own. Rhys had since fallen asleep on John’s shoulder and River was leaning into Spencer’s chest like he knew something was wrong there. She drew another slow breath, in through her nose as she attempted to find the words that just weren’t coming to her. Swallowing hard, there was no other way to say it than to just say it.

“I’m reinstated. I report tonight at 5 and I’ll be pulling one and a half. Home by lunchtime tomorrow.”

Not only did this mean she missed everything, but it meant that she was put into the line of fire for the first time since their son was born, for the first time since they got custody of River. It meant she couldn’t promise she’d be home by lunch tomorrow. It meant she couldn’t make a single promise ever again for anything. It meant that tomorrow might never come. Biting at her lower lip, she’d never felt fear in her job, not ever. She’d never felt that feeling of ‘what if’ in regards to something happening. She’d never felt sorry that she had to go to work before. But now, she was feeling it all. Sadness, fear, and most of all, guilt.

John James John James Admittedly, there wasn’t a whole lot he was hearing over the soundtrack of their living room. Between the babbling sing along of his eldest and the actual backing track on the TV. The best he could pick up was the tension in her voice. The woman had a stare like hooks digging into his skin and he swore he could feel that glance through walls. Getting his onesie secured, the little boy was all legs as his father set him back upright and watch him take off like a wound up toy too long restrained. Running towards the television where he was for a moment entranced as he watched his wife take a seat beside him. Feeling her to his thigh as his own calloused digits would skim the back of her fingers. Parting his lips to speak before River beat him to it and called her by name. Eyes back to the boy as the realization of it all didn’t quite him. He knew River viewed her as mother. The only one he had really known as Nat wasn’t exactly the maternal type. Maybe once. Back in the day before she had went and fucked it all up. After that though, John could imagine River only reminded her of her fuck up. Staring back at her with his father’s eyes. There wasn’t a whole lot of good John could sing of when it came to his ex but the woman was at least realistic and intelligent enough to give him a fighting chance with someone else. To give the little boy who was all smiles and sunshine what he deserved; the opportunity to be loved. He had no doubt that he was very much loved with Spence as anyone could see that and it reflected in the way he had taken to her.

Yet, upon watching he reaction, it became more evident as to what she was feeling. The boy seated comfortably on her lap as if he had always been there. “He loves you.” He reminded Spence before letting the two had their moment, gently tapping a fingertip to River’s nose prompting a smile. Quick to flash that new enamel. Letting the two have their moment which happened to last for many which left him merely watching Paw Patrol. Again. Before she’d finally speak and he was all too quick to bring his attention back to her entirely. Having found it all too easy to soothe Rhys off as he recognized his father’s chest as his own personal rest area.

Inhaling evenly as this news as both of them knew it was to happen eventually. Hardly needing to ask how she felt about it and it wasn’t out of rudeness that he didn’t ask. It was the fact that he could see it all over her. Standing up slowly with Rhys in tow, he was walking over towards his swing where he lowered the little guy into it. Strapping him in before turning it on. Getting his free hand as he returned to the couch having freed up his hands.

“and you’re not happy.” He predicted, part of him having wondered whether the woman would rejoice to this news or was she too taken with this side of life.

Spencer James When she was put on administrative leave the same week she was due to return from maternity leave, she had mixed emotions about it. On the one hand, it gave her more time at home with John and the boys which was much needed given their circumstances at the time and for that, she was grateful. On the other hand, she was on administrative leave pending charges for potentially conspiring with a man standing trial for the attempted murder of her own husband. It was a large pill to swallow and her throat couldn’t withstand the mass. Although she knew John believed that she had nothing to do with the incident that took place outside of the hospital one cool May morning, she also knew that there were those that believed it was possible. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there were those that would stare her down, looking to her as she passed with John and the boys, somehow knowing what had her off work for the last eight months. It wasn’t a secret that she was being looked into though she was sure there were many that already had a conviction hanging over her head when she hadn’t even been charged yet.

Regardless, her emotions on the matter were mixed. Financial obligations were piling up. Things were about to get bad if something didn’t happen there as the ‘account’ she’d kept her own money in, dirty money that she had tucked away, was about to run out. A box deemed as ‘high school memories’ housed the financial wealth that had been extracted from criminals all over Dallas and Philadelphia, paying her to look the other way. Paying her to get charges reduced. Paying her to shut her mouth. She was good at it and though the need for the extra income had passed nearly two years before, her addiction to the take had not. She needed it. She felt as though she had power in it. That she had a say so in what was alright and what was not. That she was probably doing more good in what she was actually doing than ninety percent of the cops who were doing what they were doing in locking them up for the two days something would stick and then turning them back out. At least in the manner she was doing it, they were more likely to think twice about parting with their cash as parting with their time wasn’t nearly as valuable to them.

But as she sat there, telling John that it was time for her to return to it, that she’d been cleared, she knew she should have been elated. She should have been ready to jump back into the life that had been her entire life. The life that she’d given up a relationship for. The life that she’d held so much value in. The life that she swore to give her own to. But things were different now. It wasn’t just her anymore. It wasn’t even just her and John. As Rhys laid asleep in his swing and River danced in front of the television, there were two tiny people that would not understand if she didn’t come home from work the next day. Two tiny people that had never known the woman to be anywhere but with them and anything but their mom. There were two tiny people who would never know life the same if she were to be gone from it. And yet that was exactly what had to happen here. As John asked her if she was not happy about it, he already knew the answer to this. Maybe he knew it better than she did. She wasn’t sure if she’d describe herself as unhappy as it meant that the threat of charges were gone, but more importantly it meant the department would not find anything that would lead them to her involvement in the death of a druggie nearly two years prior, nor a blonde that had gone missing a year before. Twice she had blood on her hands, once more prevalently than the other, and if the investigation was closed, it meant she could breathe more easily on the things they could have found.

“I don’t know,” she confessed softly turning her eyes towards his. “I want to be,” she added a moment later as that was true. She wanted to be thrilled as if she’d gotten her job back, something she connected with, somewhere she knew she belonged, her purpose in life. But her purpose had changed. A moment before with River on her lap had proven just how far it had all come. ‘Ma Spen’ was gone and now she was just ‘Ma’. With his adoption hearing only days away until that fact would be true on paper as well as in reality, things were different now. A little boy fast asleep in his swing relied on the fact that when he opened his eyes, his mother and father would be there. How was she supposed to kiss them and go to work? How was she supposed to slip off out the door and just know that everything would be okay? Parents worked every day. Some in offices and others under the badge. They kissed their children and spouse and told them that they would be back at a certain time. But every now and then, two officers would show up at a door with words of apology on their tongues that could never quite begin to cover the sounds of their shattering hearts. It was a fate she couldn’t imagine happening to John, to the boys. Knowing John’s reaction would be violence. Knowing the boys wouldn’t understand, nor could they be explained to. It was a heavy cross to bear and she wasn’t sure any of their shoulders were strong enough for it.

“I haven’t fired a gun in a year,” she began, finding her way to express her fears at just the job itself as she attempted to take take her own emotions out of the mix, though it was her emotions driving all of it. “I haven’t run in sixteen months. I haven’t built up to the cold and the heat or adjusted as the temperature did. I haven’t had authority in my voice in I don’t even know how long. I haven’t spent a moment without you or the boys in eight months,” she concluded, her emotions slipping through there in that last sentence as it was the place it all got foggy for her. Not only did she know she was not in shape for what the job required of her, but she couldn’t walk out the door with her heart as she once had. Her heart was there, in that living room, beside her, in a swing, dancing to the television. Somewhere along the line, she had become a stay at home mom without a single other care in the world and now she’d have to go out into that world she’d lost touch with and hope it didn’t chew her up and spit her out on the stone streets of a city known for its brotherly love. She’d be boots on the ground in the depths of the night, in places that John would never want his wife to be. She’d be in dark shadows, running into situations where everyone else was running out. She’d be in the line of fire, not because she had to be, not because someone forced her hand, but because that was the life she chose to lead. “I’m scared,” she ultimately confessed, the weight of the two words breaking beneath her voice as she lowered her eyes to her own lap, feeling that fear radiating through her on a level she’d only known one other time in her life, when John was in the hospital. Now, she felt as though she was surely committing him to long days and long nights, the fear of the phone ringing or a knock at the door. She was telling him, without saying the words, that he may just be raising two boys on his own and they were both too little to even remember who she was or what she felt like, smelled like, and the sound of her voice. Her thoughts swirled around in her head, prompting an ache in the pit of her stomach as she doubled over on the sofa, her face finding her knees as she linked her hands beneath her thighs. Giving in to that fear and the confession of it as she faced the fact that she had eight hours to be ready for what would be a nineteen hour shift.

-February 21, 2017

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geektified · 7 years ago

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New Post has been published on http://www.geektified.com/2017/06/20/the-raw-expose-wwe-presents-death-of-a-friendship-ii-starring-enzo-amore-and-big-cass-6-19-2017/

The Raw Exposé: WWE Presents - Death of a Friendship II Starring Enzo Amore and Big Cass (6-19-2017)

By: Keila Cash

Hello everyone and welcome to another installment of The Raw Exposé. Tonight’s episode of Monday Night Raw emanated from the Ford Center in Evansville, Indiana. After WWE threw in the towel last week due to Game 5 of the NBA Finals, this was the perfect opportunity for the company to get back on track as the infamous July PPV rapidly approaches. Samoa Joe proved that he’s not scared of Brock Lesnar by going toe-to-toe with The Beast and walking away unscathed. Did the Samoan Badass continue his streak of dominance or did someone decide to rain on his parade? The answer to that question can be found throughout this blog. Without further ado, let’s dissect tonight’s episode of Raw in no particular order.

Raw kicked off with Roman Reigns’ announcement regarding his plans for Summerslam. Reigns wanted to face the winner of the Universal Championship match between Brock Lesnar and Samoa Joe. He declared himself the number one contender because the ring was his yard now.

Samoa Joe came out and was offended that Reigns omitted his name from the title match. He was actually flattered because Reigns never beat him one-on-one. Reigns had a stinging line about how Samoa Joe didn’t live up his Samoan roots and called him “Just Joe” as an insult.

Joe headbutted Reigns and proceeded to toss him into the barricade before rolling him back in the ring.

He tried to lock in the Coquina Clutch but Reigns powered out of the hold and nailed Joe with a Superman Punch as the opening segment came to a close.

This was a good way to start the show. The talking was kept to a minimum as Reigns and Joe traded barbs while coming off like total badasses at the same time. Reigns being a cocky asshole is a good look for him. It generates instant heat whether he’s catering to his fanbase or deliberately pissing off hardcore fans who despise his character. WWE has found the perfect formula when it comes to presenting Reigns as a star who is a lightning rod who generates buzz wherever he goes. Here’s hoping the company stays the course because there is money to be made if they play their cards right.

Samoa Joe fending off claims that he is the black sheep of the Samoan Dynasty continues to fuel him in the best possible way. Joe is not only fighting for the Universal Title but his namesake as well. No one comes for his manhood and gets away with it. Brock Lesnar learned that lesson last week. Will Reigns suffer a similar fate? We shall find out later tonight.

The Hardy Boyz defeated Karl Anderson and Luke Gallows when Jeff Hardy pinned Gallows with the Swanton Bomb in a gusty match. Jeff played the babyface in peril until he laid out Anderson with the Whisper in the Wind. Matt made the hot tag and had things under control until Gallows sucker punched him. This allowed Gallows and Anderson to hit the Boot of Doom for a near fall. Jeff eventually made the blind tag as Gallows was about to take out Matt. Jeff saved his brother which set up the Twist of Fate/Swanton Bomb finish. Nice effort from both teams as WWE teased an Anderson and Gallows win only for them to pick up another loss. Again…

Random Observation: Bo Dallas has an amazing tan. And long luxurious hair. And a beard!

Finn Bálor defeated Bo Dallas with the Coup De Grace in a surprisingly competitive match. Dallas attacked Bálor before the match got underway which gave him the advantage early on. However, Bálor got back on offense by nailing Dallas with a wicked kick to the face before throwing him into the barricade for good measure. He rolled Dallas back in the ring and hit his Slingblade/Running Dropkick/Coup De Grace trifecta for the win. This was a nice showcase for Bálor while Dallas looked good for a grand total of two minutes before eating the pin.

Seth Rollins waxed poetically about being on the cover of WWE 2K18 while renouncing his greedy and egomaniacal ways from three years ago. Bray Wyatt didn’t buy Rollins’ nice guy act as he cut a promo from backstage. Wyatt hated the idea of Rollins being a corporate shill and vowed to make him pay for using his name in vain.

Wyatt made his way to the ring and was about to sacrifice Rollins for the greater good when Rollins laid him out with a crossbody from the top rope onto the floor. Rollins walked away while Wyatt tried to save face by smiling manically as the segment came to an end.

The promo exchange between Rollins and Wyatt was fine, but I am not emotionally invested in their feud because Wyatt has looked weak at every turn. He might gain the advantage every now and then, but he never wins the BIG ONE. Wyatt’s feud with Rollins will deliver similar results. It’s sad but true.

Elias Samson sent quite the message to Finn Bálor when he attacked Bálor from behind during his backstage interview with Charly Caruso. Samson warned Bálor never to upstage him again as D-Von shooed The Drifter away. I think it’s safe to pencil in Bálor vs. Samson at the July PPV That Shall Remain Nameless Unless Absolutely Necessary.

Akira Tozawa defeated TJP with a Senton from the top rope. The match was solid and Titus O’Neil added to Tozawa’s act by being his manager. If this is O’Neil’s career trajectory, why is he a heel?

Based on O’Neil’s rebuttal to Neville after the Cruiserweight Champion vowed to annihilate Tozawa if he continued to stick his nose where it didn’t belong, we might have our answer. O’Neil & Apollo Crews will face Sheamus & Cesaro in a nontitle match. Two heel teams going at it doesn’t make sense unless the creative team decided to turn O’Neil and Crews babyface. We shall find out soon enough.

Samoa Joe defeated Roman Reigns by putting him to sleep with the Coquina Clutch in a very good match. It was hard-hitting and physical throughout which made things even better. Joe had his best match to date since debuting on the main roster while Reigns continues to prove why he’s one of the best performers in WWE.

The counters and near falls were on point as Joe countered Reigns’ Spear attempt with a knee to the face followed by a modified Atomic Drop and Senton. It was a great sequence that popped the crowd something fierce.

Joe tried to finish Reigns off with The Coquina Clutch, but the Big Dog powered out and dropped Joe with a Spear. Joe put his foot on the rope for a near fall which heightened the drama even more.

Joe rolled out of the ring and barely made it back in the ring before the count of ten. Reigns was in position to hit him with another Spear until a beeping sound stopped the match in its tracks.

An ambulance was backing into the arena and lo and behold, BRAUN STROWMAN made his triumphant return to Raw. The distraction allowed Joe to lock in his submission hold for the win.

After the match was over, Strowman made his way to the ring and reminded Reigns that he wasn’t finished with him yet. He laid him out with a Reverse Chokeslam and challenged the Big Dog to an Ambulance Match at the Fire of Great Balls PPV as the segment came to an end.

The match between Samoa Joe and Roman Reigns was great while Strowman’s return pushed things over the top. Joe continues to look strong while the epic Strowman-Reigns feud will come to a head next month. All in all, this was a great piece of business that made me look for to the July PPV That Shall Remain Nameless Unless Absolutely Necessary.

The Miz’s marriage might be on the rocks, but the night wasn’t a total loss as he recruited Bo Dallas and Curtis Axel to join his entourage. Dallas and Axel attacked Dean Ambrose from behind while they were disguised as a pair of bears.

Miz picked the bones as he laid out Ambrose with the Skull Crushing Finale to wrap up the apology segment from hell.

Sheamus and Cesaro defeated Apollo Crews and Titus O’Neil when Cesaro pinned Crews with an assisted White Noise. The match was fine, but the 10:30 Lull Period of Death started to set in as the crowd was muted for the most part.

That Brock Lesnar-Samoa Joe video package was everything. Lesnar talking shit about his opponents never gets old. If only he did it for the live audience on a regular basis. Hmm…

Sasha Banks vs. Nia Jax ended via disqualification after Emma kicked Jax in the stomach after Alexa Bliss moved out of the way. Since Banks was DQ’d, she attacked Emma and Jax until Bliss intervened.

From there, all hell broke loose as Mickie James, Dana Brooke, and Bayley made the save. The babyface crew stood tall while the heels retreated up the ramp.

Bayley got a nice ovation which was refreshing to see. Based on the melee, expect a multi-woman match for Bliss’ Raw Women’s Title at the July PPV That Shall Remain Nameless Unless Absolutely Necessary.

The whodunit mystery involving Enzo Amore and Big Cass finally came to a head when Big Cass was revealed to be the culprit.

Kurt Angle interrogated The Big Show and The Revival but noted investigator Corey Graves provided visual proof that Big Cass was the man behind the backstage attacks.

Security footage revealed that Big Cass staged the attack from last week as Enzo looked on in shock. Cass admitted that he was the man who attacked Enzo from behind because he was tired of carrying his dead weight.

Cass took pity on Enzo because no one liked him. His big mouth was writing checks that his ass couldn’t cash. Cass ended their friendship and nailed Enzo with a big boot to the face. Raw went off the air with Cass standing tall on the main stage while Angle tended to Enzo in the ring.

This was an interesting way to end the show. Big Cass held his own on the mic while Enzo Amore did a wonderful job letting his facial expressions do the talking for him. He even cried on command which is pretty damn remarkable.

It sucks that the team is breaking up, but Enzo’s rebuttal should be a thing of beauty next week. If he’s able to convey his own thoughts, we might have a potential promo of the year contender on our hands. I still have trepidation about both men going solo because they complement each other so well on the mic and in the ring.

However, Vince McMahon sees dollar signs in Big Cass and we shall see how his singles push plays out. As for Enzo, he’s a better talker than a wrestler. His long-term goal should be managing other stars. Enzo has the gift of gab which will serve him well in the future.

On a more somber note, I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a rough year for friendships in WWE. L

Overall, I thought tonight’s episode of Raw was solid. This was a nice bounce back show after last week’s ho-hum effort. The wrestling action ranged from decent to very good with Roman Reigns and Samoa Joe winning match of the night honors.

Braun Strowman returned and went back to what he does best: Destroying Reigns to no end. Their Ambulance Match at Great Balls of Fire the July PPV should be a spectacle, to say the least.

The third hour dragged a bit, but the closing segment ended things on a high note. Big Cass showed his true colors and it should be interesting to see how he fares as a solo star. Enzo’s big mouth will keep him employed for years to come. His in-ring work? Not so much.

WWE is doing a good job building up the Balls of Great Fire PPV. However, the company is 0-4 when it comes to producing quality PPVs post-WrestleMania season. The booking decisions at Payback, Backlash, Extreme Rules and Money in the Bank have been atrocious. Here’s hoping they get their act together next month by booking a show that makes sense from a wrestling and storytelling standpoint. If not, the streak will extend to 0-5 which is a damn shame coming from the biggest wrestling promotion in the world.

On that note, this wraps up another edition of The Raw Exposé. I hope you enjoyed it and I will be back tomorrow night with a brand new installment of The SmackDown Files. See you later, boys and girls!

#Big Cass #Braun Strowman #Enzo Amore #Monday Night Raw #Roman Reigns #Samoa Joe #WWE #WWE Universe

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