#It is only because my small library does not have much Russian lit so I have to request it from the closest city which takes ages | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tuanhood · 4 years

Text

rumor

pairing: kim yugyeom x reader

genre: smut, enemies to lovers au (kind of)

warnings: 18+, public oral sex (female receiving), cursing

word count: 5k+

summary: the bane of your existence, kim yugyeom who has been bothering you consistently for the past 6 months comes to find you in the library, because well... he heard something.

a/n: keeping it going with the smut i GUESS. my russian mother would literally die if she knew i was doing this instead of writing my dissertation. :) this is barely edited but go easy on me OK.

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

Here you were. Another Thursday night in the library, endlessly highlighting the printed-out text in front of you. Your eyes shifted towards the other portion of the table you were sat at. It was filled with papers by students from the course you were TAing for and its placement in front of you was another overwhelming reminder of the work you had to accomplish before the weekend. A thought occurred to you that maybe it was worth it to take a break before you really got into grading, but as you glanced at your phone for the first in what felt like hours, you realized there was no time for a break if you wanted to finish everything on time.

It wasn’t always like this, you used to have fun, but as time passed and you went on in your collegiate career, there was more time for work and less time for play. You wanted to say a big fuck you to your friend Mark and his “work hard, play hard” motto, because who the hell could do both equally and not ruin their life?

Just as you were about to text Mark and ask him for 500 words on how his life mantra could be applicable to literally anyone, you heard heavy footsteps coming from somewhere on the floor of the library you occupied and it was almost as if your comfortable atmosphere shifted. As the footsteps grew closer, your body tensed up in preparation for the interruption you felt that you were about to endure.

“Shove it Yugyeom,” you said without looking up at the tall boy. Kim Yugyeom had bothered you so much in the past 6 months that you practically had a sixth sense for whenever he was within distance.

“Dude, why are you so mean to me?”

Sighing, you pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration, “how many times do I have to tell you that just because our moms are friends, doesn’t mean we are.”

He pulled a chair from the table and flipped it with the back facing you, plopping down, his arms folded on the chair’s back. “Okay but the reason I’m here is actually really important.”

Knowing Yugyeom and judging on his insistent tone, you knew it wasn’t actually going to be important. The two of you had known each other most of your lives because of your respective mother’s being lifelong friends. You had always wondered what it must have been like for them, having such a strong bond of friendship that they would make it a pact to have children at the same time and force them into being friends. Unfortunately for them neither of those things really happened – your mother became pregnant with you and it wasn’t until two years later that Yugyeom’s mother followed. However, despite the small age gap, they still tried to manufacture a friendship between the two of you. By the time you were thirteen, they gave up.

For months Yugyeom had been finding you on campus and was constantly bothering you with things that he deemed to be paramount, but instead were things such as “what bedding do you think I should get?” or “hey are you going to your mom’s birthday party? Should we carpool?” Obviously, you would be going to your own mother’s party, so why did he have to ask you? All of his questions, comments or concerns, could easily be discussed over text, but for some reason he had to come find you in person. Every. Single. Time.

At first you blamed it on his age and innocence. He was two years younger than you and his common appearance in your life with things that were “important,” probably had to do with his adjustment to university life. You were the only person he knew, so it was a given that he would come to you with questions or in need of advice. But after 6 months and the large friend group Yugyeom had grown on campus – you knew that had nothing do with it.

Losing your place in your notes, you groaned and looked up at him, realizing as long as he was in your presence you wouldn’t be able to get any work done, “what is it Yugyeom? What could be so important that you had to come bother me yet again.”

You noticed Yugyeom cower back a bit at your annoyed tone, clearly striking some kind of nerve within him and it almost made you feel regretful on how you’ve treated him lately. It was certainly much worse than you had been with him in your childhood.

He clicked his tongue as if signaling that he meant business, “well… I came to ask about a rumor.”

The order of business that brought Yugyeom into your midst today immediately made you let out a snort from your mouth. He still didn’t understand what “important” meant, even after all this time. You especially didn’t pay any mind to what was or wasn’t going on with Yugyeom’s little friends. Rolling your eyes, you picked up your forgotten highlighter and put it back on the page, you predicted that this visit couldn’t last much longer. “I really don’t care about what’s going on with lower classmen.”

“It’s not about anyone in my year… It’s about you.”

You paused, dropping the tool in your hand, once again forgotten, wondering if you had misheard him. Campus was full of hundreds – probably thousands of students more interesting than you. Nothing you’d ever done could be warranted as interesting enough to be circulated throughout campus whether real or not. “Excuse me?”

“I heard a rumor about you.” And a rumor that was widespread enough that it could somehow make it to Yugyeom? You were certain that he had to be mistaken.

His eyes looked around the room. You noticed they wandered to the sheets of paper in front of you, your hands and the shelves of books surrounding the table. He licked his lips before speaking to gain confidence before he continued on, “I want to know if it’s true.”

Usually conversations with Yugyeom contained a lot of back and forth. There was never this much air that left room for thoughtful pauses or awkward silence. It had always been him asking random things or making comments that led to you snapping at him. This time you weren’t really sure what to say. Being so perplexed by the encounter and why he was concerned about a rumor regarding you, left you unsure of how to respond.

“It’s about you and Park Jinyoung. I want to know if it’s true,” Yugyeom bit his bottom lip so hard, you thought he would draw blood.

Blankly, you blinked at him, wondering why anyone would be fixated about you and Jinyoung, “first I kind of have to know what the rumor about the two of us is.”

“Ugh I knew it,” Yugyeom narrowed his eyes at you, and it’s perhaps the first time you’d seen him show any kind of negative emotion. Even after all of your countless ignoring and bitter words towards him in the past, he would always maintain the same bright smile and puppy dog look in his eyes. It was something you actually admired about him.

“Knew what? I didn’t say anything! I’m asking you what you heard. What the rumor is!” You whisper shouted, in an effort to remind yourself that you were in the library after all.

“If it wasn’t true you would have just denied it!” Yugyeom insisted.

Now it was your turn to be angry, through clenched teeth you asked him, “what the fuck is your problem?”

He stood up briskly and the chair shook from his sudden stance, “you fucking Park Jinyoung, that’s my problem.” You widened your eyes at him, especially since you had hadn’t really ever heard Yugyeom curse, “what?”

“People are saying you guys slept together.”

His words caused you to freeze up for a moment, but you felt a need to play it off, to not show your hand. “Yugyeom… Jinyoung and I TA for the same intro Lit class. That’s it. People like to create drama… especially if it’s about their superiors.” The way you defended yourself made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Ultimately, you had no reason to explain anything to this guy who wasn’t even classified as an acquaintance to you. Kim Yugyeom had no real place in your life. “And why does it matter to you? I can sleep with whoever I want… Not that it’s any of your business or anyone else’s.”

For some reason you found yourself unable to look up at him. It felt different then the times you simply avoided his gaze as a method of ignoring him in the hopes he would leave. This time you felt just nauseous. First you were being defensive with him and now you felt too nervous to look at him? What was wrong with you? “So, it’s true then, huh?”

At his words, you sighed, lifting your eyes up slowly to finally look at him again. For a moment, the thought entered your mind to lie and you had to shake the delusion out of your head. Why lie to him? You had nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed about… and yet why did it cross your mind to be dishonest with Yugyeom, as if to shield him from it? Before you could regretfully change your mind, you responded, “yes, I slept with Jinyoung, but it was literally forever ago. We’re just friends. I don’t understand why it’s even coming up now.”

It surprised you when you noticed his hands had clenched into fists at his side and you tried to conjure up something in your brain that could explain why he cared about this so much. Your heart pained a little from his aggression and you wondered if you were going to start wondering why you care so much about this.

“Why do you care?” You asked, rolling your eyes to put on an act of nonchalance.

“It’s embarrassing!”

“Why the hell is it embarrassing?”

His fists finally unclenched and he threw them down in annoyance at your question, as if you were supposed to be able to read his mind. He answered you as if his reasoning was the most obvious thing in the world, “my friends keep teasing me about it!” You couldn’t help but notice the way he whined at the end of his sentence, like a small child being annoyed about finishing their food.

“Yugyeom… I don’t think I’m following. Why does who I do or don’t sleep with embarrassing for you?”

“Because…” he took a deep breath in as if contemplating whether he should go on and there was a long pause before he continued, “because it’s embarrassing that this is going around about someone I like.”

Shock washed over the features on your face. This was it? This was the reason why he had been acting so ridiculous? You certainly weren’t expecting that. “You have feelings for Jinyoung? I-I’m sorry Yugyeom, but I swear it’s in the past… and if it makes you feel any better it wasn’t even that good of-” He cut you off briskly not wanting to hear where you had been going with the thought.

“No, I don’t like Jinyoung.” He rolled his eyes out of frustration at your lack of understanding.

“Then I don’t know what you’re talk-” this time you cut yourself off when your brain finally caught up to the rest of you. If he didn’t like Jinyoung... that meant he likes the other person in the rumor… and that other person in the rumor was in fact you. Which meant that Yugyeom must like…

“Me? You like me?” Your voice got higher, a nervous habit that continued to grow whenever you were in a stressful situation. A situation you couldn’t easily see the conclusion of.

Judging on Yugyeom’s gaze, one could say that the conversation didn’t faze him – that he was confident even, but as you glanced down, you were met with the fidgeting and shuffling of his feet. “Yeah. I do, so what?”

After all this time and after everything you had said or done to him, he still liked you?

You looked back up to his face and saw the hard and cold exterior he tried to put up between the two of you. He was attempting to make it seem like he didn’t care. That putting his feelings for you out in the open and holding his heart out in front of you was no big deal. You knew from knowing Yugyeom from all these years that this was no simple feat for him. You knew he was probably shaking inside, nervous and afraid of the rejection that he had expected to come from you. He had put on an act, because he thought that’s what you wanted and because he didn’t want to show you his true feelings when the hurt that he knew was coming finally came.

You studied his face for a moment, his features and glimpsed into his eyes that you knew would hold how he really felt.

Yugyeom felt the silence between the two of you get heavier and heavier with every moment that passed. He felt uncomfortable and he just wanted you to tell him what he knew he was probably going to hear from you. “I bet I’m ten times better than Park Jinyoung,” Yugyeom mumbled quietly to himself, clearly not meaning for you to hear it, but hear it you did.

His words shocked you and you felt a nervous flip in your stomach, but the good kind. For some reason you couldn’t help but think back to Mark’s stupid motto as you looked Yugyeom up and down, checking him out. Before you could process what, you were doing, you began to gather all of your things on the table without a word to Yugyeom. When you were finally done you saw the panic in his face as he wondered if you were just going to leave him without a word. Instead you surprised him, placing your backpack in one hand and you grabbed his hand with the other, “follow me.”

He didn’t move and you almost fell back against him at his pull, “where are we going?”

“You’ll see come on,” you rolled your eyes at him and tugged him forward once again towards the stairwell of the library. Both of you climbed the stairs in silence, and you found yourself grateful that he followed you. It was difficult for you to understand what it was about the situation that had you more nervous – that he had come with you or that you were doing this at all.

When you finally reached the fifth floor you led him through various stacks of books and multiple rows of shelves until you were both in the back corner of the floor. You stopped in between two shelves and he glanced around the books surrounding you, “why are we in medieval literature?” he asked.

“Because no one ever comes up here.”

He blinked quickly, not understanding your reasoning for bringing him up multiple flights of stairs to be amongst more dusty books.

“And there are no security cameras up here,” you continued, hoping that something would click for him. If it took him much longer to figure out what you were trying to communicate, you were afraid you might lose your confidence in doing this. You tapped your foot lightly against the ground, “so are you going to show me?”

“Show you what?” He asked completely oblivious. At this point, he was just grateful that you hadn’t kicked his ass after he had confessed to you. He had to be honest with himself, he hadn’t come to find you expecting to tell you about his feelings for you. He thought they had been clear from the beginning, but after the third or fourth time you had reacted negatively to him appearing in your life during these past 6 months, he figured that you would never see it without him explicitly telling you. And judging on how much you seemed to hate him – he had come to the conclusion that he would never tell you. But after hearing about you and Park Jinyoung from his friend Bambam, he couldn’t stop himself from marching to the one place he knew you would be on Thursday night – the library.

Yugyeom had always pictured your reaction if he was to tell you about his feelings for you and it always ended with him having a bloody nose, a new bruise or a pain in his foot after you stomped down on it in anger or disgust. The worst part of this situation was that so far you hadn’t done any of these things and for once he didn’t know what to expect when it came to you, somehow that scared him more than being flat out rejected. Wait… maybe you were bringing him up to the isolated section of the library to do your damage and hit him?

“Jesus fucking Christ Yugyeo-” You cut yourself short when you noticed your hands had involuntarily thrusted towards him, clenching as if you were about to wring his neck and the way your tone shifted to frustration. Exhaling, you relaxed your hands and put them down, rubbing them against your thighs to calm yourself down. You weren’t trying to be your normal self towards Yugyeom, you were trying something… different. Much different.

It seemed to you that the only way you’d be able to get Yugyeom to well… get it was spelling it out for him.

“You said you bet you were ten times better than Jinyoung... so show me.”

Nothing leaves Yugyeom’s mouth in response and he stared at you blankly. Had you read this wrong? Were you embarrassing yourself? At his lack of words, you felt your confidence chip away piece by piece and your face grew hot.

Then everything seemed to fall into place for Yugyeom as his mind begins to compute the words leaving your soft pink lips that he’s wanted to kiss for so long. He noticed the way that your eyes are no longer fixated on him, and instead begin to look over the place nervously, pretending to find the books around the two of you more interesting.

Due to the lack of response from Yugyeom, you’re surprised when you he takes a step closer towards you and you feel his hot breath near you just as your eyes became glued to a text about women’s literature in the Middle Ages.

You looked to his brown eyes which stared at you so deeply you felt as though you’re about to suffocate. Although Yugyeom’s always been much taller than you, you’ve always somehow felt bigger than him – older, wiser and more mature. But for the first time ever, under his hypnotic gaze you felt innocent, small and like all you wanted was for him to take care of you.

As he took another step forward, you took one back until you’re pressed against the bookshelf, unable to take back your decision, but you could feel that deep inside of you that you didn’t want to. Both his hands went to either side above you on the shelf and he looked down at you, a new lustfulness in his eyes that wasn’t there before. “Is this okay?”

Nodding your head, you bit your lip to stop the smile that dared to spread across your face and Yugyeom caught it immediately. He brought his right hand down to your hair and brushed some of the strands out of your face softly, “you know… you don’t have to pretend to be this cold, mean person all the time… If you want to feel something, you should just… feel it.” At his final words his hand moved to a permanent position on your cheek as he leaned down to connect your lips together. At first you remained frozen, but as his left-hand slides from the bookshelf to land comfortably at your waist as if it was always meant to be there, you melted into the kiss. Your lips parted and his tongue slipped into your waiting mouth softly, without rush or urgency and somehow that gentleness alone made you feel like all that existed was that softness and the mixing of your breaths.

The slow, sensual pace that you savored soon began to pick up as Yugyeom deepened the kiss, pushing himself closer to you on the shelf. Your hands that had remained mostly stagnant and at your sides soon began to drift up to run through his hair as if they had a mind on their own. When you first heard him let out a small moan from your tugging on his locks, you felt a fire ignite inside of you that told you that you wanted to hear more. With every tug, Yugyeom’s fingers dug into your hips and soon he let out a sigh of content as his hands moved to rest on your ass. Your lips worked seamlessly together as if it was the missing puzzle piece you never knew you needed.

“Let me show you something else I can do better than Park Jinyoung,” Yugyeom said through a raspy breath, against your lips. His hands squeezed your ass before they moved around to the button on your jeans to undo them. It feels as though he works in slow motion as he pulled down the zipper and moved his hand inside, slipping them over your panties. His lips still on you and his hand in a place where you never thought you would need him; your breath grew heavier and heavier.

Your knees buckled as Yugyeom’s fingers suddenly brushed your clit through the thin cloth and he grinned into the kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist to hold you up. You tried to focus on the feeling of Yugyeom’s fingers rubbing your through your underwear, but soon he withdraws them. You whimpered at the loss of his fingers against you and he gave you one last soft peck before he disconnected his mouth from yours as well. You missed the contact, wanting to make your lips even more swollen than they probably already were.

Yugyeom chuckled at your needy reaction and he caressed your cheek in a reassuring manner, “don’t worry it’ll be worth it.”

You grew confused, wondering what his next move would be, but as he crouches down onto his knees in front of you, pulling your jeans and underwear down with him it begins to dawn on you. You felt yourself grow more wet at the thought.

“I need to taste you,” he practically whined, “let me clean up the mess I made between your legs.” If Yugyeom had said anything remotely close to that in the past, you know you would have smacked him across the face, but instead you felt yourself involuntarily moan, turned on by his words.

Still leant up against the bookshelf, you spread your legs apart, which was proven difficult with the jeans and underwear around your ankles, but Yugyeom grabbed them in an effort to help you. When you were comfortable and well situated, he settled himself between your parted thighs and grew closer.

First all you felt was his hot breath on your clit and he softly blew to tease you, as if paying you back for all the countless you shrugged him off. When you let out a whimper that sounded a little too desperate, even for your ears, he decided his short-lived teasing was better off short. He took one last look into your eyes before he leaned in without hesitation. His tongue first gave a slow lap as if savoring your taste, and he let out a groan that made you feel more wet than you already were. Soon he began to pick up the pace and he used the way your hips moved against him and the little sighs coming from your mouth to feel what it was that you like and don’t like. When he sealed his mouth around your clit in a soft suck, your hands instinctually went back to his hair to bring him even closer to you.

“How do you taste so good,” he mumbled mostly to himself, followed by a noisy kiss and delving into you further.

A sudden and continuous swirl of his tongue against your clit caused you to let out a loud moan that you couldn’t hold back even with all of the strength in your body. With his lips still attached to your clit and continuing his ministrations, he tapped his fingers on your thighs in an effort to remind you to be quiet. You both may have been in a secluded part of the library, but you were still in the library.

It was when you really looked down at Yugyeom that you felt as though you were going to combust. For some reason to see the younger boy that you had completely written off for most of your life, and especially the last 6 months, with his mouth on your clit with a look of pure satisfaction on his face made you feel closer to your high.

His sudden harsh sucking as if he was a man eating his last meal, caused you to lift your hips off against the book shelf and into his face further.

“Yugyeom…” You moaned out with eyes squeezing themselves shut. Hearing his name fall from your lips in bliss – something he had always wanted and dreamed about – edged him to go even harder and faster, wanting nothing more to see you fall apart before him.

When he slipped two fingers inside of you, pumping them quickly, with his lips still attached to your core, you began to feel dizzy just at the pleasure. He pulled his mouth away for a moment to watch his fingers sink in and out you, pleased to look up and see how overcome you were with the way he was making you feel. You let out another cry when his fingers curled in you, finding your g-spot with ease. When he reattached himself to your clit and his fingers found that spot in you once again, it all became too much and you felt yourself closer to your climax. You tried to push his face away from you, trying to let him know that you were close.

“Cum on my face. I want it, I want it all,” he said muffled against your core at your effort to move him away from you.

At his words and the continual, brutal pace of his tongue and fingers, you felt your hips buck into Yugyeom’s face and yourself clench around his fingers, orgasm washing over you hard. You attempted to keep your moans in, but the feeling you get through out your entire body is too much to contain as you let out a load cry from your release. One of your hands left Yugyeom’s hair to aggressively grip the book shelf behind you, causing a book to fall from the shelf and hit part of Yugyeom’s head and his back on the way down.

“F-Fuck Yugyeom I’m sor-” He shut you up as he continued to lap at your core, letting you ride out your orgasm as if he was in his own world where a book didn’t just fall on him.

After a few moments in your own blissed out state and deep breaths with your head against the book shelf, you looked to see Yugyeom getting up off of his knees. His mouth and jaw glistened from you and if he minded how wet your release was, he didn’t show any sign of it. On his way up to stand before you, he lifted your underwear and jeans up your legs.

He smiled smugly, “not bad for a kid, huh?”

You shyly looked away from him, feeling like the kid.

“Yeah whatever, Kim Yugyeom,” You said rolling your eyes, and he catches the smile that was written across your face. When your eyes met again, he stared at you so deeply with so much fondness that you felt yourself grow weak for the second time in the last few minutes.

Bringing your hand up to gently rest on his cheek, you pulled him in for a kiss, wanting to show him the same pleasure he gave you. He let out a loud groan when your hands reached his jeans in an attempt to unbutton them.

“Um… hello?”

You both froze at the voice and broke apart to look at each other in panic.

“Shit,” you whispered to him.

Yugyeom widened his eyes as if asking you what to do, “don’t look at me!”

“Is uh… someone there? Or… two someones?” The unknown voice called out into the stacks. The sound of the voice made you feel sick. You didn’t know how long they were there or how much they had heard and especially because you were 90% sure you knew the voice.

When Yugyeom looked at you again with fear in his eyes, you realized the roles had been reversed once again and you were back to being the older, wiser one out of the two of you. This time however, his look to you for guidance didn’t annoy you as it had in the past. Instead, you felt your stomach flip and it go straight to your core.

Your eyes wandered to the floor, where you see the piece of literature that fell and hit Yugyeom. Reaching down to grab it, you motioned for Yugyeom to crouch down with you, “okay, on the count of three, you’ll grab my backpack and I’m going to throw this the opposite way. They’ll probably hear it and go look where the noise came from. That’s when we’ll run towards the exit.”

“Why do I have to carry your backpack?” Yugyeom whined.

Rolling your eyes, you answered him, “because a gentleman always carries a lady’s things.” “You just want to be the one who throws the book.”

You shrugged, pretending like he didn’t have you figured out already, “now come on,” both standing back up you nodded at him to signal the beginning of your countdown.

“One…” you whispered, looking back at Yugyeom who licked his lips in anticipation, “two…”

You paused hearing footsteps, “three!” you scream whispered at him as you threw the book in the opposite direction, in one of the book stacks, praying you don’t get seen. At the end of the countdown, Yugyeom grabbed your backpack and your free hand, both of you running towards the exit.

You both practically stumbled down the stairs of the library, unable to contain your laughs as soon as you’re free and on the front steps outside.

When finally caught your breath from the running and laughter, it dawned on you the events that had just taken place and what you actually just did in the library. “Holy shit… I can’t believe we actually did that. That was kinda fucked up wasn’t it? That we did that in there?”

“You said no one goes into the Medieval Lit section!” Yugyeom complained as soon as he’s caught his breath.

You bit your lip and nervously looked at him, “Well for the most part no one really does! There’s only one person I know of that does…”

“Who?”

“Park Jinyoung.”

He let out a snort, “I can’t believe you.”

You shoved Yugyeom lightly, “It’s not like I knew he would show up!” At your words he pulled you towards him and close enough until his mouth brushed your ear, “I bet you wanted him to catch us. You dirty girl.”

With widened eyes and once again turned on by none other than Kim Yugyeom you moved away from him gently and take his hand in yours, “come on.”

“Where are we going?” He asked for the second time of the night.

“My place. I have something I want to show you,” You answered him, attempting to pull him forward again. “Oh and what’s that?” He had a smug smile on his face, clearly wanting to torture you.

“Kim Yugyeom, I swear to God,” you wondered if he was really going to do this to you, “you better come with me so we can finish what we started or I’m starting a rumor about you.”

He pulled your arm until you were back against him, your body flush with his front and you felt his hands go to your ass, “nah I know you wouldn’t do that.”

You pushed your hips against him and he let out a soft groan at the contact against him, his hardness being neglected this entire time, “try me.”

He smirked at you, “fine… let’s go before I fuck you on the steps of the library. Then there’d be a rumor about both of us.”

“If that happened that wouldn’t be a rumor. That would just be fact,” you explained to him, grabbing his hand again.

“So that’s a yes?”

You rolled your eyes at him and smiled. Kim Yugyeom was doing things to you and making you feel things that you couldn’t deny it any longer, “come on Yugyeom.”

“Yes ma’am.”

#got7 fanfic #got7 smut #kim yugyeom #yugyeom smut

237 notes · View notes

ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 5 years

Text

Blue Eyes Part 5

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 5: Ella gets fed up with her family, everything comes falling apart.

About a week after her hunting trip with Tommy, Ella was at Ada’s. She was watching Karl for her sister while she was at the library. Her five-year-old nephew was always a joy to be around. Ella had grown much closer to him and her sister when she moved to London. They were the only family members she kept constant contact with. They were sat in the parlor, kneeling on the floor and constructing a train set that Arthur and Linda had sent him for his last birthday.

“Is your dad in heaven too?” Karl asked out of the blue.

Ella glanced up in surprise. The young boy had been starting to ask odd questions. But they were innocent. Where did babies come from? Why does a caterpillar live on Uncle Arthur’s lip? Where does the sun go at night? Can he go to the moon next summer?

But this question completely disarmed Ella. “What do you mean, love?” She asked gently.

He shrugged and struggled to interlock two wooden pieces of the train track. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked uncannily like Freddie. But he still had Ada’s soft eyes. “Mummy says that my daddy lives in heaven now, that’s why I can’t see him.” He explained.

Ella chewed on her lip. She felt terrible for Karl because she knew what it was like to grow up without a dad. She reached out and helped him get the track pieces to fit. “Yes, but he still loves you very much.” She said softly.

He looked up at her with a smile. “That’s what mummy says.”

“It’s true.” She brushed her nephew’s brown hair back.

“I think it makes mummy sad though.” He shrugged and grabbed the train to set on the incomplete track. Mindlessly, he pushed the train back and forth. The small wheels squeaking.

“It’s hard to lose someone.” Ella agreed. “But you still have many people here who love you.”

Karl was quiet for a moment. He looked at his aunt’s hand as she continued to build the track for him. “Where’s your thing?” He continued asking questions that had been on his mind all morning.

“Where’s my what?” She smiled and tilted her head to the side with a quizzical look. "What're you talking about?"

“Your thing.” Karl pointed at her left hand. “Mummy has a thing there.”

Ella held up her hand and observed her bare ring finger. “Oh, a ring?” She nodded. “I don’t have one, poppet.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not married. People wear rings when they’re married.” She explained helpfully. “Your mum was married to your dad so that's why she has a ring.”

“Why aren’t you…married?” He tested out the difficult word.

“Because I haven’t found the right person yet. Why aren’t you married yet?” She teased and grabbed him.

“Auntie El!” He squealed in protest when she pulled him into her lap and tickled him. “Stop!”

Ella smiled and kissed his cheek, letting him free. “Silly boy.”

Karl plopped back down on the rug and smiled cheekily. “Fuck!”

Her eyes widened when he blurted out the cuss word. “Karl Thorne, where on Earth did you learn such language?” Of course, she knew exactly where he had picked up the word. She knew for a fact that she had learned all the words she knew from her brothers. From an early age, she’d had a mouth like a sailor. It was easy to mimic her brothers and the words they spit out every two seconds. Frankly, it wasn’t too surprising growing up in Birmingham. But Karl was in London and in a nicer area at that. Ella was sure Ada would get some looks if her son was walking up and down the block spouting out obscenities.

“Uncle Arthur!” Karl beamed proudly. “’N Uncle John, n’ Uncle Tommy, n’ Aunt Es, n’ Uncle Finny.” He listed off all his bad influences.

“Jesus Christ.” Ella rolled her eyes. “Karl, sweetheart, don’t listen to a word they say. And certainly, don't repeat the things they say.” She instructed gently.

He frowned. “Mummy says I’m s’posed to listen to them 'cause they're old.”

“Mhm.” She sighed because she'd been told the same thing. Respect your fucking elders. Her foot was tingling, about to fall asleep underneath her, so she stood up to stretch her legs. “Want a snack?”

“No.” Karl shook his head and flopped onto his stomach, making the toy train deviate wildly off the track.

“Alright, stay there, I’m gonna make myself tea.” When she headed to the kitchen, the front door opened and Ada walked in.

“Hello.” Her older sister smiled. “Sorry I kept you longer than I said.” She took off her coat.

“That’s okay.” Ella shrugged it off. “I don't have anything to do today so I don't mind one bit.”

Ada glanced in the parlor to check on Karl before following her into the kitchen. “Tommy came to the library.”

Ella raised an eyebrow. “Our Tommy in a library?” She scoffed and fetched the kettle. “Whatever for?”

Ada sat in the small breakfast nook to the side of the kitchen. “He was asking about someone. Russians. Something happened at his wedding and now I think he's getting more involved with it.”

She stood in front of the stove, completely still for a moment. She sighed deeply and shook her head. “I don’t care.”

“El…”

“No, Ada, I don’t fucking care.” With a sharp turn, she glared at her older sister. “And you shouldn’t care either. You’ve got Karl to think ‘bout now. You can’t get involved in this…this shit storm that our dear brother keeps kicking up.”

Ada rolled her eyes and let her boots knock idly against the chair leg. “We’re a family, El.”

“Oh, for Christ's sake don’t you start too.” Ella moaned and lit the stove. “’We’re a family, Ella, you’re just as involved as the rest of us, Ella, we’re all in danger, Ella’. I’m sick of it Ada, Tommy and I can play nice but I’ll be damned if I deal with any fucking Russians.” She snapped and let the kettle boil. Digging into her skirt pocket, she came up empty and remembered she’d smoked her last cigarette the day before. With a heavy sigh, she sat down across from her sister. “If you’re bored, Ada, have at it. Get involved with whatever Tommy wants. Not my place to tell you off.”

Ada merely looked at her in amusement. “You? You’re telling me I’m bored? You’d tempt an angry bull just to get your kicks. You couldn't sit still for two seconds as a kid.”

“Do you have a smoke?” Ella was not about to have this conversation without a cigarette.

Her sister nodded and reached into her purse to find a pack. “You’re telling me that you’re completely satisfied with your little ol’ life in London?”

Ella’s hand trembled as she tried to light a match. “I’ve made peace with the family, does it matter what I do now? I'm sorry that I'm not risking me life everywhere I turn. I can play nice with Tommy and everyone else, but what I do on my own time is my own business.”

Ada’s eyes narrowed because she noticed the major tell. She let her sister take a few drags of the cigarette before she confronted her. “You are up to something.”

“Nope.”

“Yes you are, you’re a shit liar, Ella.” Ada retorted. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

Her blue eyes glanced out the window across the room from them. The lace curtains allowed some light into the kitchen but kept the street from looking in. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Don’t you trust your own sister?”

“Not when I know she’s going to go to Tommy.” Ella shot back with a bit more venom than intended. But after John had scorned her and told Tommy she wasn't going to confide in any of her siblings, not when it was about Alfie.

Ada pursed her lips in disappointment. She assumed they were close enough that Ella could trust her enough. But apparently, the young woman was still going to treat her like the others. “I wouldn’t do that to you unless I knew you were in danger.”

Ella stood, her cigarette hanging between her fingers. “You and I have very different definitions of danger.” Most, if not all of her family considered Alfie Solomons danger. So there was no way she could confide in any of them. They would all go to Tommy about it; it was simply the nature of a Shelby. All of them would be terrified for the baby of the family and alert Tommy. Then Tommy would make a trip to Camden. Then Alfie would find out. Ella shuddered at the thought of what sort of chaos that would incite. But she’d deluded herself to believe she could keep it a secret for as long as she wanted. Chaos could be avoided as long as she kept her mouth shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, Ella’s phone was ringing practically nonstop. She’d answered a few times. First, it was Ada, coaxing her to talk openly. Then Polly called and said Ada was concerned. Finally, Tommy tried to call but Ella was not in the mood to speak to any of them. Yet, they continued ringing.

“For fuck’s sake!” Ella snapped when the phone rang again, rattling noisily. She stood up with a huff and grabbed her coat.

It was Friday night, and the clubs were just starting to open as the sun was setting. Ella pushed through the crowds on her way to Camden Town and straight to Alfie’s. Sometimes, after a stroll in the park, Alfie would bring Cyril back home so the two of them could go to dinner. That’s how she knew where he lived.

Ella was still frustrated with her family when she knocked on his door.

Alfie was home earlier than usual from the bakery. Cyril began to bark when he heard someone at the door. He rarely had unplanned visitors at his home. So he grabbed his gun and kept it close at his waistband just in case when he stood to answer the door.

The gangster was thoroughly surprised to see Ella standing at his door. “El…”

“Will you take me out?” She asked with a hint of annoyance in her voice.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong, love? Something happen?” Of course, it was a pleasure to see her, but such a visit was unlike her. They kept carefully planned dates together, always working around their schedules. The young woman wasn’t someone to pop up out of the blue without a reason.

“I’m just…” She sighed heavily. Alfie’s presence instantly calmed her down. She was so fond of him that her burdened heart brightened. “I need to be with you right now.”

He nodded but was still concerned for her. “Right, well, m’not too good of a dancer.” A sheepish look crossed his face and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Bad hip, yeah?”

“That’s…that’s fine.” She shook her head and felt dumb standing there. What was she thinking? Just showing up at his doorstep and demanding he take her out. “It was silly of me to just drop in on you unannounced…”

“Let me get me coat.” He stopped her from turning away. With a fond smile, he let her inside to wait. “Then we’ll go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

On the way to the club, Ella walked arm in arm with Alfie. She was quiet but moved close to him. “I know the owner here.” He said nodded to a club with a long line waiting by the door.

“Okay.” Ella followed as he bypassed the line completely and walked right through the doors without so much as a word. Clearly, he knew the owner and he knew what sort of repercussions would occur if Alfie Solomons was denied.

The man at the door nodded and greeted him without hesitation. “Evenin’, Mr. Solomons.”

They left their coats with the attendant, Alfie leaving his derby hat on as usual. The club was buzzing with activity and there was barely enough room to move. But Alfie commanded the crowd without so much as a gesture or a word. People moved out of his way as if they were opposite ends of a magnet. He kept Ella near and guided her through. A jazz band was playing on a large stage at the front of the dance floor. They were playing a milder song, nothing too fast or upbeat. Still, Ella felt electricity surging through the room when Alfie pulled her close. He held her hand and rested the other on her waist. He smiled at her and she practically melted.

They swayed together, simply listening to the music instead of talking. Alfie kept them by the edge of the dance floor, never straying too far. Every so often, his eyes would move from her face and glance over her shoulder. She didn't know what he was looking at, but he would always return to gaze into her blue eyes. They drifted closer as the smooth music filled the club. Ella moved her hand from his shoulder to the nape of his neck and drew him towards her. He tilted his head down and touched his cheek to hers.

Ella closed her eyes for a moment and tried to focus on the music and Alfie’s touch. But it was so hard to keep everything at bay. “I want my family to like you.” She blurted just loud enough for him to hear her over the noise of the club.

Alfie didn’t react in any way to make her feel worse. He simply kept dancing with her to keep her at ease. But, it was the first time she ever mentioned her family. She’d made hints to them once or twice, but he assumed they were either gone like most of his was or they were estranged from her. “I’m a hard man to like, love.” He attempted to keep the mood humorous.

“Not to me.” She replied stubbornly and nuzzled closer to him. Her fingernails lightly grazing up and down the back of his neck, speckling goosebumps over his arms and causing a shiver to go up his spine.

“Well, I could meet them.” He offered. “And if they don’t like me, well-” He frowned to himself. Of course, they wouldn’t like him. Any reasonable family would be horrified to find their daughter or sister was fraternizing with a man like him. Someone who was barely seen as a man, but something more of a monster. But maybe he was too selfish to walk away from someone like Ella. Someone who gave him so much affection. He couldn’t even imagine turning around and walking away, never to see her again. “It’s your life, El. You need to decide what you think is best.”

She drew back slightly to meet his eyes again. The rest of the world falling away, completely meaningless to her. The warmth and adoration on his face were too much to ignore. “I care about you, Alfie. I just wish things were simpler than they are.” Her chest seized with heartache. If only she could be from a normal family without the reputation hers had. If only they could accept how she felt about Alfie. The thought of having two separate lives was difficult to handle. But if she needed to live the rest of her life like that to be with Alfie, she would do so in a heartbeat.

“Life ain’t simple.” He agreed. “But…things are simpler with you.”

Ella swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” She drew him closer again to kiss him. The rest of the club was nothing but background noise. A dull hum out in the universe. Meaningless vibrations that didn’t affect the two of them. It was just Alfie, standing right in front of her. The center of her universe. Truly, a magnificent discovery. It was any wonder why her family or the rest of the world couldn’t see what she saw. Still, it didn’t matter if they were blind to it. She could see him clear as day and he was beautiful.

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

Ella went almost half a year with keeping everything in her life under control. Five blissful months with Alfie and five months of being on better terms with her family. But Icarus flew far too close to the sun and so did she. She became too confident that her brothers would never find out. So confident that she hardly even thought about Tommy and how he was still suspicious about her.

But he had bided his time. Ada had hinted that Ella was acting strange. After the mention of Alfie Solomons, he wasn’t about to give up that easily. His sister had purposefully slipped away from the men he had sent to watch her. So there was something she was hiding.

With Ella’s own advice, he sent men who were more competent than the last two. And it did the trick.

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

There was something unsettling in the air but Ella ignored it. She should’ve listened to her aunt who told her never to ignore a gut instinct. Instead, she met up with Alfie again.

They’d become so familiar with each other. It was like being with an old friend and a brand new love. He listened to her like no one ever had. He’d often bring something up long after she told him. It gave Ella a skip in her step. Far too frequently she felt ignored by her family. She was just the baby Shelby, too young to understand anything. Too young to know what true emotions are. She wasn’t in the war. She hardly even knew their father. She didn’t know what it was like to be so neglected. She didn’t know anything.

But Alfie respected her. He validated her and assured her that her fears were reasonable. Not once did he shrug her off and tell her she was just being a silly little girl.

Still, Ella didn’t know how strong of an effect she had on Alfie. It seemed every second of the day she was on his mind. And every time her blue eyes flashed across his mind, he couldn’t help but smile. Truly, he thought he’d found the one. The woman he didn’t even think existed. A woman he would be chuffed to spend the rest of his life with. It was a terrifying thing to consider. Laying his emotions all out on the table like a deck of cards. Each one facing up, ready for her to read and react to. Very seldom did he find himself in a vulnerable position. But that changed with Ella. This wasn’t a business interaction. This wasn’t a battle. So he felt completely unprepared. And yet, he was more than willing to follow her into an uncertain future.

They continued to go out together. Out for a walk, out to dinner, or dancing, which was just an excuse to hold each other close. It was endearing and tender, something neither of them were used to in the slightest. Each time was like digging into a sugary treat. Every time was like heaven and they parted ways still craving more.

But they carried baggage along with them, secrets and lies they couldn’t completely wash away. And they couldn’t continue to ignore them any longer.

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

Tommy was in London, finishing up some business halfway into the evening. He was walking back to his car when one of his men approached.

“Mr. Shelby.” Franklin, a young man who had been in the war with Arthur, jogged over. He was one of three men who Tommy had enlisted to follow his sister. It had been weeks without any news.

That night, everything changed.

“Evening, Frank.” Tommy greeted and paused by the open car door.

“It’s Ella.” The dark-haired man caught his breath. He’d run all the way from the Camden area to find his boss before he left the city.

“She alright, something happen?”

Franklin shook his head. “She’s fine, but you said you wanted to hear about any information regarding her and Alfie Solomons.”

Tommy’s blood ran cold. Part of him wanted to believe he was overreacting. A large part of that came from his wife. Grace scolded him for still not trusting Ella and insisting he allow her to live her own life in London. Another week and he probably would’ve thrown in the towel and chalked up his worries to just being an overprotective sibling. But now, his worst fears had been confirmed.

“Where are they?”

~~~~~~~~

Alfie always walked Ella home. He didn’t trust the city or its inhabitants. He always walked right up the first two steps. That way, Ella could be eye to eye with him when she stood on the top step. Perfect position to kiss him.

“Lovely night.” Alfie looked up to the clear night sky. “More reasons than one.” He smiled at her.

Ella grazed her fingers down his cheek and searched his face. She loved picking out the little features that only someone close to him would get to see. The complex cool colors of his eyes, the very faint spread of freckles congregating around his nose, and how his beard avoided the scar on his right cheek.

He always leaned into her touch, allowing her to carry just a tiny bit of his weight even for just a moment. A man who was so used to carrying his own weight and sometimes those of others. Now he rested in the palm of this women’s hand. Allowing his vigilant eyes to close.

She drew him out of his moment of silence to kiss him. Completing their typical Friday night together. A soft kiss that got deeper and more familiar every night they spent in each other’s company.

Their collective guard was so low that they didn’t hear the expensive car pull up on the street behind them.

Tommy caught sight of his sister kissing Alfie Solomons and he about blew a fuse. He got out of the car, ripping off his coat and slamming the door behind him.

The loud noise finally startled the two out of their love-filled stupor. Ella looked over Alfie’s shoulder and she felt dizzy with panic. In an instant, she had gone from kissing the man she adored to seeing her enraged brother crossing the street.

Alfie saw the terror on her face and turned. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Tommy…”

“You fucking having a laugh?” He didn’t let the man speak. No, this time he would be the one in control of the conversation. “After I give you the benefit of the doubt more than once you fuck me over again?”

Ella froze. She wasn’t sure who her brother was talking to before she realized he very well could’ve been addressing them both.

“Tommy, mate, what the fuck are you on about?”

In response, the Blinder grabbed his gun and pointed it right at Alfie’s forehead without hesitation. “You fucking think I wouldn’t find out, aye?”

“Tommy, stop!” Ella quickly tried to get in between the two men but Alfie held her back.

The situation got even stranger. How in the world did Ella know Tommy Shelby? “You on the drink again, Tom?”

Tommy nearly popped a blood vessel at the man’s callous remark. “Don’t act stupid. You fucking crossed the line, Alfie. You can do what you want to me business but this is…” He sputtered over his words, to angry to think straight. His sister had lied to him multiple times. His business associate who had screwed him over one too many times was going behind his back yet again. But this time he was messing with his family.

“Mate…”

“She’s my fucking sister!” Tommy shouted loud enough to wake up the whole block.

Ella could feel Alfie’s entire body stiffen. She knew her world was on fire even if she couldn’t smell the smoke yet. “Alfie…” The wait for his response was agonizing.

The man turned to her after a brief moment of shock. “Fucking what…?” His voice was quiet but unmistakably upset. His jaw clenched as if he’d taken a blow to the stomach.

Ella’s shoulders heaved with anxious puffs air as everything around her unraveled. “Alfie, I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m sorry I-” She reached out to touch him but he jerked away like she was hot to the touch.

Tommy gritted his teeth and put away his gun. However, he still wasn’t done with Alfie. He grabbed the man by the shirt collar and shoved him away from Ella’s front stoop. “Are you mad? She could’ve been killed ‘cause of you! You think you can just walk 'round with her and think no one will try to get at her?” He kept an iron grip on Alfie.

“Tommy, stop!” Ella jumped down the stairs and tried to separate them.

“You think I knew? Really? You think I’m stupid enough to do something like that?” Alfie wrestled Tommy away. His voice getting gruff and defensive. “Mate, she didn’t fucking tell me either. She’s been lying to the both of us.”

Tears formed in Ella’s eyes. Her knees felt weak but she continued to try and tear her brother away. She’d already hurt Alfie enough, she didn’t need her brother harming him too.

“You fucking stay away from her or I swear to God I’ll put a bullet in your head and leave you out on the street.” Tommy spat in a low voice. He finally relented and stepped away from the Jewish gangster.

Alfie punched out a sarcastic laugh. “Don’t have to worry ‘bout that, Tom, you can take her back to Birmingham where she belongs. Take her back to you and your kin. Don't ever want to see her again.” His voice was full of poison but he couldn’t even look at Ella. It was purely defense, trying to shield himself from the massive hit to his heart. Before she even had time to stop him, he turned and walked off. Going home to tend to his wounds and build another protective layer around himself. Should’ve known the second he saw those blue eyes. He didn’t understand how he had the wool pulled over his eyes just by a pretty face. The man wanted so desperately to be angry. But he was too hurt to even feel it. Everything had become so numb.

Ella stood in the middle of the street. Her body stiff with shock. Her blue eyes found her brother through the blur of her tears. She choked out a heartbroken sob. “You’ve done it then, haven’t you? Satisfied? You’ve completely ruined my entire life. You’ve broken my fucking heart!” She shouted, her voice shattered and hoarse.

Tommy never used to bear watching his baby sister cry. He typically felt awful about it and kicked himself for weeks. But he didn’t take too kindly to being lied to. He stood straight being the soldier he was. “You’ve ruined your own life.” He replied steadily. “You lied. That’s what happens when you lie, everything falls apart.”

Ella felt sick and wondered when she would wake up from the nightmare.

“Get in the car.” Tommy opened the car door for her. “You’re coming home.” He grabbed her upper arm.

“I am home.” She spat back at him and lashed out, shoving and slapping at him. “Fuck off!”

“Ella, get in the fucking car!” He raised his voice again. He wasn’t going to leave her in London, not after she lied so much to such a dangerous man.

Too weak to fight him anymore. She got in the backseat of the car. The entire way back to Birmingham she cried, but couldn’t find any more words to speak.

~~~~~~~~~~~

They pulled up to six Watery Lane and she rushed inside. Polly was in the parlor and was shocked to see her niece running in. Tears staining her pale cheeks. Ella collapsed in her arms, clinging to her as she used to as a child.

Polly had no idea what was going on, so all she could do was hold her as she cried.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434

Tag list: @deaflikehawkeye @octaviareina @mylovelykelsifer

Masterpost

PB Masterlist

185 notes · View notes

mxpseudonym · 5 years

Text

Ada Is Just Perfect

Pairing: Ada x Reader (femme)

Summary: Ada and Reader meet working at the library. The 1920′s gays amirite ladies?

Length: 2017 words (allegedly)

Warnings: None.

A/N: Wow, she’s finally here and queer and ready to party. I went back in to edit this to be shorter and made it like 500 words longer so... yeah. Also, this piece, like all of my work will not feature violence or shaming of marginalized communities because there’s enough of that in the real world. Use your suspension of disbelief to believe in tolerance.

---

Ada.

Your first impression of her was a reflection of your hope that she wasn't a chatty girl come to London for the excitement, only using the library job to pay for nights out. You thought she was someone to be wary of, but lovely nonetheless.

Your position in the library was a godsend. As your grandmother once scolded you for, you often enjoyed the world you'd built in your head a bit more than what was around you. For Ada, her position seemed to be a godsend for the exact opposite reason. She enjoyed meeting new people and quietly discussing social issues in the corner. Many loved her, and many were skeptical. Mostly the men, like Patrick in the archives, who said she was a gangster and a communist.

You didn't have the opportunity to confirm nor deny rumors as your shifts and breaks never aligned in a way where you could do more than smile softly in passing. It wasn't until the morning Ada volunteered to take over for a bedridden Margaret that you met. You put the kettle on while Peter went into too much detail about the new encyclopedia.

Though Ada worked there for nearly a month, it wasn't until you joined the conversation with your cup of tea that you truly took her in. She was beautiful- cheeks rosy and lips a delicate pink. Her skin was freckled, and you suspected it was soft as well. All of your restraint went to not reaching out and touching. Well, some of it went to deciphering the notes of her perfume without breathing her in.

Ada's eyes flicked to yours and snapped you out of your insensibility. You could feel your own blush as you gave her a small smile. She returned it then rolled her eyes slightly, glancing towards Peter who was going on yet another know-it-all tangent. You stifled a laugh, and no sooner did she make her way over to you.

"You're y/n aren't you?" Her voice sounded so assured as it floated to your ears.

"I am." You nodded. "And you're Ada Thorne?"

"Yes, I'm new." She confirmed it. There was a pause as you grabbed two cups. She cleared her throat slightly, then asked, "Are you also interested in encyclopedias?"

"God, no. You'd think someone surrounded by books all day would learn a thing or two about when to piss off," you said the words without thinking. You nearly spilled the tea you were pouring when you jumped at the sound of Ada's sudden laughter. You looked at her with wide eyes, and she shook her head. A few of your coworkers glanced over in jealousy that someone was actually having fun during Peter's lecture.

"Something tells me you don't get nearly enough credit for wit. Women don't usually though."

"You're right about that." You handed her the teacup, and you both moved towards the hallway.

"Alright, so tell me, what does y/n like to read?"

From then on, you began having more talks. You didn't know when, but at some point, Ada's hours shifted to align with yours. She told you it was because she didn't like leaving too late in the evening. You didn't mind. In fact, you secretly hoped she was a chatty woman after all, and would always stop you mid-shelving to tell you about something in the news about women's rights or the union.

At the next staff outing, a bit of a cocktail party with some academics, you found yourself actually showing up. You never went to these things, and it took the first half-hour for everyone to stop commenting on it. Ada seemed to know her way around well, commanding conversations and working the room. You'd work at the library for nearly over the year and hadn't even heard half of these people's voices.

You could hold your own, but your disinterest in many of the perspectives in the room of men tended to make you grin and bear it while Peter from the archive room explained why women's suffrage was foolish to every woman who didn't have the option to not listen. Your eyes always traveled the place, keeping tabs on Ada. Peter's eyes followed yours when you finally found her.

"Ah, the new girl."

"Woman," you corrected to no avail.

"Heard she's a communist and a gangster." He grimaced.

"How exciting. I'll get to the bottom of things and report back." You shamelessly stole his glass of whiskey and made your way over to the conversation Ada was commanding.

"-It's the power and the power and property of the people," she said. You had to admit that, though it was terrible of you, politics were something you were only shallowly versed in before she showed up. You watched her passion as she spoke, the way her eyes lit up, and her hands moved theatrically. When the men she was talking to got pulled away, she gave you all of her attention.

"You're so passionate." You commended her.

"Well, someone has to be, right?" She shrugged and led you both towards a table that held more wine.

"I would really love to hear your perspective on the strikes." You tried to remain calm as you made your ask. "If you have time one of these days, after work even." Ada turned and caught the gaze that you hoped wasn't as eager as you felt.

"I would really like that. But only if you talk to me about mythology." She bargained. Your eyebrows shot up at her observation. You rarely talked about Greek mythology with anyone but the old man who came to the library every Thursday.

"How did-"

"I saw the way your eyes rolled while Edwin spewed his "Zeus doesn't get enough credit" bullshit." She scoffed, and you couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up in you and spilled out your mouth.

"Your laugh is so lovely," she said abruptly. So abruptly that even her own eyes widened a bit in surprise.

"Thank you." You didn't shy away from the compliment.

It was a dangerous realization, but the more you spent time together, to hang out more, you began to feel that there was no denying you were flirting with one another. You used things that a few friends had once told you on a night out at a bar when they saw a stranger making eyes at you. You were tipsy and let them coach you on flirting like a modern woman. While that had been undoubtedly awkward, this was one of the more natural things you had done in life. Ada was easy to get on with.

She came in one day with freshly cut hair, and you couldn't help but admire it.

"You cut it," you pointed out as you shelved the infamous encyclopedia. You turned fully, to see Ada looking at you in earnest.

"Well? Do you like it?" She asked, bumping the ends.

"You look so lovely with it like this," you told her.

"Short?"

"In a way you like it," you clarified. Ada smiled to herself, turning to the stack of books at hand then back to you.

"Are you going to join the wild girls and chop your locks into a bob?" Ada reached out and toyed with your ends. You blushed and shook your head.

"Oh, I don't think I have the face for it."

"Nonsense, I think you've got the face for just about anything, y/n." Ada's fingers slipped under your chin and tilted your head up. Your eyes locked, and you could feel your brow furrow slightly. It was such a blurry line to walk along, this feeling. She turned once again to help a patron but was soon back at your side with jest in her voice. "You do look lovely today, y/n."

"Thank you, Ada," you laughed lightly. "I feel like there's an ask coming on."

"There is actually. You may or may not know this, but I cherish our friendship very much," Ada placed a hand over yours, and you looked up in surprise, "and there's a very important man in my life that I'd like you to meet." The shock on your face was evident. A look of realization came over her.

"Oh, no," she opened her mouth to address it when there was the most unlikely interruption.

"Hello, Ada." The call was accompanied by commanding footsteps, and you both turned to see who it was.

"Tommy Shelby in a library," she breathed the words in exhaustion.

"I need to borrow a book about the Russian Revolution," the man announced.

"Shelby?" You questioned. You knew the name, but were so far removed from that life that it didn't even register that Peter meant that Ada wasn't a Thorne after all. She was a Shelby, a Peaky Blinder. Her head whipped around and you could have sworn she gulped before sighing dejectedly and walking to help who you assumed was her brother. You made yourself scant, continuing shelving, but Thomas Shelby's refusal to use the proper voice level allowed you to hear just enough as you located a shelf near them.

"He was nice, maybe I'd like to see him again. Would I be able to do that?" Ada looked at her brother, expectantly. You quietly shelved the book, but she noticed you as you turned. Ada closed her eyes, seemingly in frustration, and sighed momentarily. You supposed she was speaking about the man she'd wanted to meet. Perhaps a husband if she was a Thorne.

Unfortunately, you left before seeing her again on your shift, and it was the weekend.

There was a picnic, but the part of you who acknowledged the soreness in your chest at the idea of Ada being married and you flirting so recklessly made you stay home. You were at the tail end of Sir Conan Doyle's latest mystery anyway. For all your love of it, you were a slow reader, and you'd need ample time to finish. That was the end of that, you concluded. But it wasn't. You kept thinking about going when you were working and reading and daydreaming. You didn't go after all, and you felt sad about it. Your apartment you'd worked so hard to afford alone felt too quiet. It wasn't until Monday you realized that it was actually your world that felt too quiet and it was only Ada saying "good morning" that turned the sound back on.

"You weren't at the picnic." She said softly, and almost painfully, as she walked into the small kitchen area where you were alone and waiting for the tea to boil.

"No, I had... something." You stumbled of your words. You were both quiet, and you'd taken a particular interest in your shoes until you got your nerve. "Are you married?"

"No," she answered quickly. When you looked up, you caught the redness of her cheeks as she flushed in embarrassment. "I was. I'm a widow." She answered truthfully. You nodded and digested the answer.

"And that was your,"

"My brother, yes. Thomas Shelby." She answered. You nodded again. Looking at your shoes again, you thought how to word your next question. Before you could, she answered it quietly. "There is no man I'd like to see again. It wasn't how it sounded. I wanted, and still want, you to meet my son, Karl."

"After Karl Marx?" You looked up knowingly with an eyebrow raised. For the first time, it was Ada who seemed more nervous than you. She nodded, letting out a light chuckle. You nodded again in understanding, this time while fighting a smile. "So you used to chase rats with a revolver?"

"As a matter of fact, I did." She laughed as the kettle finished. She brought two mugs over for you to pour into, now seeming more relieved. "So what suits me better? Thorne or Shelby?"

"I think Ada is just perfect," you said. You poured, and when you looked up, you were almost startled by the thoughtfulness in her gaze. It was her turn to ask,

"Tonight, are you free?"

"Yes."

"Fantastic."

#Peaky Blinders Fic #peaky blinder imagine #Ada Shelby #Ada Shelby Imagine #ada shelby x reader #Tommy Shelby Imagine #m-pseudonym scribble scrabbles

140 notes · View notes

winterromanov · 5 years

Text

hold me like a soldier - bucky x reader fic

PART TWO - JAMES

Pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

Excerpt: “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

Warnings: none

Taglist: @lunatictardis @cals-cigarette (reply or send me an ask to be added!)

You were under absolutely no impression that grad school was going to be easy. Yet, that being said, you’d never counted on it being this damn difficult either. Sure, the classes were more intense and more frequent, the deadlines already piling up and ready to leave you shaking like a village in a cyclone—but the classes you could deal with. You’re more than used to homework and Shakespeare is nowhere near as undecipherable as it was in high school, romance and comedy and tragedy now a wholly fluent language in your brain. No, what is difficult is how fucking lonely you are.

You’ve done the whole moving-to-college thing before, but that was back when you were eighteen and naïve and everyone in your dorm was in the same rocking boat, dropped in the middle of a city and on the hunt for (illegal) cheap beer. Now you’re older, arguably wiser and surrounded by hardworking mature students with exceptional career goals. Your roommate, Elise, is almost finished med school and has absolutely no interest in hunting down New York’s best bookstores with you. And the people on your course…they either have friends already, from their undergrad majors, or rush off the minute class is over. It leaves you aimlessly wandering the city on your own or cowered in the library, desperate for any—literally any—company other than your family, fuzzy and lagging over Skype conversations.

School is important. Probably the most important thing in your life, and you’ve worked really fucking hard to get here. But your sanity is important too. Spending another evening with a bottle of budget wine and Friends re-runs on Netflix while pretending to make notes for your medieval lit seminar is definitely not doing it any favours.

So—this is it, you decide. This is the day you bite the bullet. You will no longer be the loneliest girl in New York City, even if that means forcibly pinning someone to the wall of the literature faculty and making them get coffee with you.

(Not that you’d ever have the nerve to do that. Of course. Where does anyone even acquire that sheer level of confidence?)

Your morning starts in a building a fifteen minute walk from your apartment and the October air is unseasonably warm, sweat pooling in the small of your back where your rucksack dips. You make it to Russian lit with a few minutes to spare so you take your usual preferred seat a few rows away from the back of the hall, trailing to the middle. The faces that start to fill up the seats around you are recognisable, at least, but you know very few by name. A girl who is also in your Early Victorian Proto-Feminism class (Tessa, you think) smiles tightly at you, but decides not to sit next to you, preferring a seat nearer the front. As you get your laptop out in preparation for the lecture starting, another face catches your eye.

You don’t know his name, but you always notice him, whether it’s in class or in the library or the canteen near the activity centre. He always dresses smartly but in greys and blacks and blues, like he deliberately tries to evade attention. His dark hair is short but hangs a little in his eye-line, revealing an attractive face with a sharp jawline and sharper eyes. A ghost of facial hair shadows his chin and although you’ve never seen him smile, you can imagine it being the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Like the stars back home, the ones unaffected by artificial light, impossibly bright. You don’t get to see the stars like that in New York City. It’s like the skyscrapers have stolen them to burn.

He’s never acknowledged you before. Your stares go unseen, thankfully, because there’s nothing more embarrassing than trying to explain why your eyes refuse to leave somebody’s frame. This time, however—this time, his eyes flicker straight over to you. It’s unmistakable. For a couple of seconds, his blue irises settle on your own, and you snap away quickly as your cheeks flush.

Good one. Real good.

At that moment the professor turns up and starts to load up today’s presentation. When you look back, you can see the back of the guy’s head, a few rows in front of you diagonally across the hall. He’s on the shorter row by the door, only three seats either side of him, but all of them are empty. He doesn’t seem to have many friends either. It doesn’t strike you that there may be a reason for that—maybe he’s just shy, or finds it difficult to find friends, just like you.

(He seems a little older than you, too. There’s just something about his expression, aloof and quiet, that makes you think he carries more years than his face cares to admit.)

The lecture is on Tolstoy and while the professor’s theories on Anna Karenina are interesting, you keep finding yourself glancing at the guy. This is the first time you’ve realised he doesn’t have a laptop, unlike the majority of students in the hall. He’s scribbling notes fervently in a small moleskin notebook, hand covering the side of his face as he writes.

By the time the lecture finishes and you’ve typed a grand total of eight words (the presentation title, go figure) the decision is basically out of your hands. You can’t let him sidle out of the hall like every single Russian lit class before this one, especially if he insists on causing this much distraction to your studies. As the professor finishes up you quickly pack away your laptop, squeezing between the rows in an attempt to reach him before you lose him amongst crowds of other students in the quad outside.

Your gaze follows his scruffy black backpack, standing on your tiptoes as you try to see over the tops of the heads that make their way down the stairs. He presses a white earphone into his ear and between arms, you can see he owns an iPhone, just not a laptop.

For half a second, you falter. Is this weird? Walking up to someone random—well, almost random—after class and just striking up a conversation? Maybe he’s alone because he wants to be, preferring to stalk about without company other than his own. Maybe the seats are empty because he’s completely unapproachable, others before you tried and failing to break into his circle. After all, he’s hardly unattractive. You can’t be the only one feeling subconsciously drawn to him.

Oh, fuck it. Whatever happened to biting the bullet? You remember something your sister mentioned to you in one of your two-hour long Skype marathons—be brave, loser.

You follow him until you’re out of the between-class rush, jogging a little to catch up with his long strides. Taking a deep breath to psych yourself up, you stumble to a halt beside him as he stops to read a message or something on his phone.

“Hey,” you say, a little breathless from your jog, pulling your rucksack straps up your shoulder.

He blinks, a little surprised, like he hadn’t seen you. His hands tighten into fists, then relax. He recognises you. “Hey?”

You smile, hoping to appear approachable, but wondering if it actually comes across as a grimace. “I’m, uh—sorry, we just had Russian lit together?”

His face is totally unreadable, but his body looks tense, putting you on edge. Maybe this was an extremely bad idea. “Yeah. I saw you.”

“Yeah, I saw you too. Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have…” you realise you’re rambling and to your surprise, there’s a hint of amusement on the guy’s face. It seems to flicker away quickly, like he’s telling himself off for it. “Anyway. I saw you sitting on your own, and I always sit on my own too, and I kind of hate it because this whole grad school thing has reduced my friendship circle to exactly zero, not including my new pot plant Hero, who is great but not very talkative, you know? She doesn’t have many opinions on Tolstoy’s use of the interior monologue in Anna Karenina. And also my roommate spends a lot of time examining corpses in the interest of science, so she’s not the most fun at the moment.”

He listens bemusedly, his hands sinking into the pockets of his trousers. You sigh. Verbal diarrhoea.

“The point being…we could, maybe, sit together?” you offer, hoping you haven’t immediately put him off if he was ever considering what you’re proposing. “Talk about Russian books sometimes so I don’t go mad?”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he looks down at his shoes; they’re scuffed up red Converse sneakers, the only part of him in technicolour. You’re almost certain he’s going to turn you down, the sting of rejection premeditated in your stomach, because hell you’ve been in this position before. He’s silent, considering this simple arrangement for longer than you’d anticipated, which is somehow a good and bad sign simultaneously.

“I…” he begins, and you’ve already finished the sentence. I would rather not, thank you. His jaw flexes, hardens. “I can sit with you.”

“Oh!” you say, brightly, by surprise. Nonchalance isn’t an option. Your grin is so damn obvious and you’re not even ashamed of it. “Oh, cool!”

“But—I don’t say this to be…I’ve just got a lot of stuff going on.” He smiles sadly, painfully. This expression is definitely readable. More readable than he wants it to be, you suspect. He dips his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Your hand closes round his arm and you can feel it tense, rock hard, and it’s like—like he realises you aren’t a threat, so he relaxes, his expression soft but eager to get away. You smile as a peace offering. “I just thought I’d ask your name. Then I’ll leave you alone. Promise.”

He mulls the question over in his head like he’s attempting a complex math problem, not a daily occurrence. His mouth curves before deciding on his answer. “James.”

“James,” you repeat, trying it out. You give him yours in exchange and he nods once, expression returning to neutral. He turns and makes his way to his next destination, perhaps another class, and before you know it he’s swallowed by college crowds and completely gone from view.

It’s been one of your more…charged interactions on campus, but nevertheless it leaves a warm feeling in your stomach. Sitting with someone is a start. It’s sure as hell better than sitting alone.

#mcu #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #fluff #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #fanfic #sebastian stan

69 notes · View notes

centaurianthropology · 7 years

Text

The Magnus Archives ‘The Coming Storm’ (S03E13) Analysis

As we were told, it’s time for a long-mentioned but never yet seen player in the supernatural to take the stage. And Michael Crewe is a fabulously ordinary person … right up until he isn’t. Come on in to hear what I think about ‘The Coming Storm’.

What a phenomenal bait-and-switch of a cold open! I actually found myself smiling at how ordinary Michael Crewe seemed. He was pleasant, polite, even sort of fun. After Jude Perry, he must have felt both surprising and relieving to Sims. Of course, then Sims had to try to go all Archivist on him, asking about the scar in the way he is rapidly learning to ask. The sort of ‘asking’ that feels like it needs capitalization.

And Michael suddenly wasn’t normal, was he? The question, ‘Hard, isn’t it, trying to ask prying questions at terminal velocity?’ was a hell of a turn, and the sound effects were subtle but breathtaking (no pun intended). The image it conjured was equally striking, and made me immediately worry for poor Sims, who proves over and over how in over his head he really is.

We find out from Michael that it’s actually possible to switch your allegiance from one power to another rather than being chosen and then stuck. It takes a great deal of effort and may necessitate murder, and you defintely have to find another power you mesh well with. But for Michael, and possibly others (I’m thinking especially of Tim, miserable as he is in the Beholding’s grasp), if you can find something that speaks to your tendencies as much if not more than the thing that originally chose you, you can switch over.

Originally, the lightning fractal being that pursued Michael was ‘an arcing branch of the Twisting Deceit’. I have to think that he means the being we know as the Spiral. The lightning being therefore is another branch of the thing that is Michael and probably quite a lot of others. The lightning being’s version of the deception is a wooden gate leading into a blasted landscape of spindly trees reaching up and down like lightning strikes, a place that stank of ozone. It’s still a maze, still fractal, but very much different than what Michael is. The more we learn about the different beings that comprise each greater power, the more interesting they become.

When he tried to find another to give his allegiance to, he found that he had to find something that ‘spoke to his soul’. He found ‘The Journal of a Plague Year’, but could not bind himself to what he calls ‘Filth’. At a guess, I would say that at least the Hive and Jon Amhurst are tied to the Filth. I would wonder if the Meat isn’t also tied in with this faction.

It’s also more than a little disturbing to realize that Michael had already been so consumed by the powers around him that the deaths of his parents to the Journal were nothing more than a side note in which he says that he’s rather lucky that it was only them that died. He seems to have had a similar reaction to learning that he could commit murder from ‘The Boneturner’s Tale’: it was simply another thing to note. This is a recurring theme amongst those who have truly given themselves over to the power they’ve chosen: the human connections they had before are no longer of any importance. For Michael, his parents are at best a footnote. For Jude her former girlfriend was someone she laughed at for having screamed when Jude lit herself on fire.

So Michael’s pursuit of a higher power better than the one he’d found in the Spiral was a bit of a trek, but it gave us some excellent insight into the various beings who have power in this world. Given the mentions of the Filth and the Spiral, I wasn’t expecting to get a mention of something we hadn’t yet encountered. And yet, of all the books he found, I found the book in Cyrillic the most interesting. It was small and gray, and decided it was at home on his bookshelves (I love this, as it feels like an obscure reference to ‘The King in Yellow’, which was claimed to also appear without warning in someone’s library). He says that he couldn’t read it, but that it tried to read him instead, so he buried it on a moor. That sounds like it could be tied to the Stranger or to the Beholding. But with the Russian connection, I have to wonder if it might not be tied to the Circus of the Other. Could there be a book out there tied to the Stranger? And if there is, could Sims actually manage to do anything with it? Either way, it’s exciting to hear about another Leitner.

‘Ex Altiore’ not only gives us a better insight into a Leitner (it is indeed a cage for an aspect of one of the great beings, in this case the lightning being), but it freed Michael Crewe to embrace what he called the Vast Emptiness. This is the being that is tied to Simon Fairchild’s pursuits at the bottom of the ocean and in the skydiving. It’s tied to the lonely stretches of nothing so pursued by the Lukases. And given their business affiliation, it may be tied to the Closed Eye as well. It would make sense that beings that exist in perfect and never-ending dark would be tied to something like the Vast Emptiness.

But then, of course, this episode took another twist right at the end, when Daisy decided to make a very rude and violent entrance. This confrontation took me by surprise, because it came A LOT sooner than I was expecting. Not only is Michael Crewe now dead thanks to her, but Sims very nearly joined him. After all the speculation about who would intercede to save Sims from the business end of Daisy’s gun, it was Basira to the rescue. It turns out that she had always known about Daisy’s preferred spot for killing, but had never minded it because she had thought that Daisy only killed monsters. But once she learned about the threat to Sims, it seems she staked out the place and waited for Daisy to drag him there. The confrontation not only revealed how dangerous and unstable Daisy seems to be, but how willing she is to kill anything she sees as something other than human. And at this point, with his ability to compel statements, that includes Sims.

The question right now is how far Basira is willing to go to either protect Sims or to fight the supernatural. She’s very much at a crossroads. Both she and Jon have both been forced to help bury Michael Crewe, so she should have no illusions about what Daisy is capable of. It’s also very obvious that Daisy is itching to murder Jon too, despite the fact he hasn’t killed anyone. She may well suspect that Daisy could try to kill anyone who gets between her and making Jon question Elias. But would she tolerate that? To get the truth of Elias and the Beholding, would she be willing to see Tim or Martin or Melanie harmed? What do we know about Basira? I believe she’s a better person than Daisy, certainly, but we haven’t seen her limits. Would she kill the woman who’s been her partner for years for one odd dude she barely knows and a collection of archival assistants she’s exchanged a few words with? Would she attempt to protect Elias if she didn’t think he deserved to die? Why has she been all right with Daisy’s murder spree up until right now? Is having Jon as a victim what finally made it personal, and made her unable to deny that Daisy was doing the wrong thing?

And if she realizes that Jon likely did coerce her into statements, even though he had no idea it was happening, would she want anything to do with him and the rest of the Institute, even if she does save him?

Conclusions

I think we’re gearing up for something major, and I would suspect it might drop next week. We know that the Rusty Quill mentioned recording a large-scale multi-cast recording, and I think this might be it. My guess is that we’ll keep to the trend, having Martin record the next statement, likely a short one, or to get cut off shortly into recording when he discovers that the Institute is getting invaded by Daisy with a gun to Sims’ back and a demand that he question Elias. Elias, I think, will be more than willing to play along. Martin and Tim and maybe even Melanie will be stuck as witnesses. They’ll be brought up to speed regarding the Beholding, and Elias’ part in it.

And then Daisy is going to die. I don’t know if Basira is going to do it, or Elias, or Martin, or even Tim. I somehow don’t think it will be Jon, but I could be wrong. After all, part of becoming a part of any of the greater powers seems to be tied in with some form of sacrifice. Is this Jon’s? Or is seeing one of his friends do so on his behalf somehow even worse? I think that’s why I’m equally suspicious it won’t be Elias. He would be too unaffected by it.

Right now, I still think Martin and Tim are at the top of my list to do the deed, followed by Basira, then Jon. Melanie hasn’t been around long enough to make it worth it, and Elias just wouldn’t care. But either way, Daisy is going to die.

I just sincerely hope she doesn’t take anyone else with her. I don’t want to see any of this ridiculous little band of idiots hurt.

#The Magnus Archives #analysis

66 notes · View notes