#not sure how much ill continue to share up until closer to release. will have to see

[obey-only-me]

A Series of Markings - Lucifer By: Akuzondelivery

The usual crowd of brothers huddled around you in the attic room. This was the place to be, lots of laughter, a movie on, and even snacks. But one brother chose to stay back.

Lucifer peeked through a crack in the door to check on you and his troublesome brothers. But really he was watching you. The way they made you laugh, the way they held your arm or hand, how close they were to you did something to him. He wanted to steal you away right then and there. But he also knew how happy everyone made you. With a disappointed sigh he took a step away from the door and headed to his study.

As you and the brothers carried on, you became aware that there was one member of the family absent. Telling them you were grabbing a drink from the kitchen, you excused yourself from the group to go see the eldest. Knowing his affinity for records you knew just where to go. The sound of his favorite record led you straight to him. His study was always the first place you’d look for him. Somehow Lucifer would instinctively go there when he yearned to see you. Thinking, hoping, that you would eventually seek him out.

“Lucifer. May I come in?” You ask politely from the doorway.

“MC. Of course. You’re always welcome.”

He motioned for you to take a seat next to him. The fire was burning and the record played a smooth jazz quietly in the back ground. A comfortable silence fell upon the room as you laid your head on his chest, while his large gloved hand rested on your shoulder.

“Did you get tired of my brothers already?” He smirked.

“Haha, no. They’re still watching a drama Asmo picked out. It was lonely without you though…”

“Oh? You’re still lonely even with 6 demons around you?”

A blush crept across your cheeks.

“I’m lonely…whenever you’re not around.”

Lucifer was slightly surprised to hear such a quiet but sincere response from you. How cute. His human was starting to learn who they really belonged to. Your head on his chest suddenly felt warmer. Lucifer snaked his arms around you to pull you closer, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Well…I’m here now.” He whispered.

Slowly he leaned in to kiss you, but stopped suddenly noticing a bruise on your neck. You grew nervous, swallowing hard, remembering the after school romp with Mammon a while ago. Lucifer peeled back your collar to better view Mammon’s signatures. The heat in your face grew as you avoided Lucifer’s scowl.

“What happened to your neck?” His booming voice filled the study.

“I…um…Mammon-“

Hearing his brother’s name was enough to figure it out. Suddenly you were pinned with your back to the couch you shared. Lucifer loomed above you, obviously irritated. You worried he would scold you, even kick you out of the study. But instead his lips crashed into yours as he harshly kissed you.

“That’s just like that idiot… To keep touching what’s mine.” You were relieved to hear a slightly playful tone, but froze at his very serious expression. “Come, we have to do something about these marks.”

You followed close behind Lucifer while he held your hand. An mix of excitement and anxiety filled your chest. When you reached his room he wasted no time by throwing you on to his bed where you landed with a bounce. Lucifer slipped off his gloves and jacket, tossing them haphazardly. His soft hands caressed your cheek as he lowered you on to your back again, hovering close to your lips.

“I can’t erase these fading marks…but I can add my own.” He spoke with a smirk as he kissed down to the opposite side of your neck. His tongue pulsed in small circles causing you to shiver. Soon a sucking noise and sharp teeth began assaulting your neck. Each touch falling in a straight line. You moaned at his hot kisses.

“Does this turn you on MC? Me so desperately marking you?”

His eyes were dark with lust as he continued to nip and bite savagely at your neck. Another moan escaped you as the heat in your core began to rise.

“Wh-why are you- Nnnnn!” You tried to make out but his hands began caressing your nipples through the shirt you wore. Skilled fingers pinched and twirled as you squirmed beneath his touch. You held his broad shoulders as he nimbly unbuttoned your shirt to continue his trail.

“Why? Because you’re mine. And those who try to take you away from me will know you’re mine.”

Lucifer breathed against your sensitive peaks as his starving lips engulfed them. It was getting harder to contain your vocalized pleasure. Electricity shot through your whole body.

“M-make…make me yours Lucifer.” You sighed.

A low chuckle vibrated against his lips, parting from your body a moment before his teeth gently bit down. You bit your bottom lip to keep a loud moan from bellowing out.

“Louder…let my brothers know you’re taken.” Lucifer bit slightly harder. But you resisted. Keeping your lips and eyes closed tightly. His warmth pulled away when he realized you were holding back.

“That’s no good MC.” He said seductively, moving a hand beneath your waistband. “I have to hear you beg for me.”

His cool fingers caressed your heat, rubbing the most sensitive part. This time there was no holding back. Your moans spilled out as he continued playing with you. His kisses trailed down your body while removing your clothes. Once your arousal was bare, his hands still stroking you, he smiled at your disposition. “You look so ready, but I can’t spoil you yet.”

That’s when you noticed his need pressing against his pants. His bulge was ready to burst as he rubbed the front of his trousers to tease you.

“You want this don’t you? Tell me how much.”

“Lucifer…I-I want it so bad. Please, every hole I have is craving you.”

“More.” He began petting himself faster.

“Please, it hurts. My body needs you.”

“What does your body need? What’s does your body want?”

“Y-your…” it was so embarrassing to say. But if you were going to have Lucifer fuck you the way you needed, you would have to say it. “Your…cock. I need your huge cock inside me.” You felt shame and arousal saying it. “My body wants you to use me up.”

“Good MC. Ill give you what you want and more.”

Lucifer shed his clothing, agonizingly slow. You sat up right but he motioned for you to kneel on the floor. Of course you obliged. He removed the final layer covering his length, making sure it was close to your face. Big all around, thick and long.

“Open those beautiful lips for me.”

A haze of lust flooded over you as you obliged. The tip of his cock teased against your lips before full entering your mouth and throat. His velvety skin felt and tasted so good, the way he filled your mouth sent you into a heat. Your enthusiasm to please him was well rewarded.

“You look so good with my cock in your mouth.” He hissed as you moved your head back and forth, lips curling tightly around his base. The way he hit your throat was smooth, but the fullness made your eyes water slightly. His low moans encouraged you to move faster, twirling your tongue around his thick shaft. “MC…” he whispered, starting to gently buck his hips into your face. Soon though, he pulled away and out of your throat, leaving you gasping. You wanted more. Your hands wrapped around his base as you stuck his pulsing member to the back of your throat.

“So greedy…” he laughed, placing a hand on the back of your head as you drooled and sucked all over him.

“It’s so good Lucifer.” You managed to say between breaths. He hummed in approval, his breathing was becoming labored.

“You can have as much as you want. Don’t stop MC.” His face was flush with desire. “I’m going to fill you up.”

Soon his cock expanded and stiffened as his essence flowed down your throat. Low and loud moans slipped from his lips. You swallowed and sucked trying to milk him dry. Lucifer pulled himself out and swept you into his arms. Without hesitation he put you down on your back and positioned himself between your legs.

“Y-you’re still…?” You were breathless and needy.

“Of course. I’m going to fill you up, all of you.” His devilish smirk sent your heart fluttering. Your excitement must have been evident as he teased between your legs again. As he explored inside of you, hearing you moan and feeling your hips buck, his other hand found itself rubbing his length until it hardened fully again. Once he was certain you were wet and ready he lined his arousal to your pleading opening.

“MC…” Lucifer slowly sank into you, making sure you felt every inch. “Take all of me, I’m going to stuff you full of my cock all night.”

Your moaned response was all he needed to know to continue. He slowly pulled out and roughly thrusted back in, making sure to touch every pleasure point of yours. Your head instinctively laid back as pleasure washed over you.

“Lucifer….” you moaned his name in your most sensual voice. This made the eldest brother force himself inside you harder and faster.

“Louder.” He slapped your ass, leaning more into you while giving you orders.

“Nnnn! L-Lucifer.” This time you were louder but not loud enough. He gave you another spanking, harder and louder than before.

“I said louder.”

“Lucifer!” You cried out as your body gripped around his cock.

His thrusts were relentless, but felt so good against your walls. His big cock was stretching you to the limit. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he went back to paying attention to your chest. The biting and nipping soon traveled back to your neck and the new hickies that were left in his wake.

“You feel so good. I can’t…I can’t hold on.”

You spoke through your moans. He met your lips with a rough kiss, caressing your tongue with his. Lewd noises filled the room as you got closer and closer.

“Fuck…” he whispered into your ear. “Cum for me. Cum around me while I claim your insides. I’ll mark you from within.”

That was it, his sexy voice echoing through you took you over the edge. Your body tensed and eased while your pleasure released. And sure enough Lucifer’s second orgasm followed. He could feel himself emptying entirely into you. And you could feel his large load warming you up and leaking from between your legs.

The both of you were left breathless, slowly separating from each other. You laid side by side, looking into each other’s eyes as you came down from your high. Lucifer tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as he admired the marks he left on your neck and chest. Darker than anything Mammon left on you.

“Hmm. My marks won’t last forever…but I do hope I’ve made me intentions clear.” Lucifer mused while propping himself with one hand. “You’re mine MC. Even if my brothers mark you, you’ll always be mine.”

Your heart jumped at his words. Too tired to speak you moved closer to Lucifer to hold him tightly. Your face was hidden in the crook of his neck. He laughed at your languid movements. Though he was also tired he made sure to clean you and himself up before covering you in his soft comforter. Slipping beneath the covers with you to hold you closely, a small noise escaped you.

“I’m all yours…” you whispered as your tiredness started to take over, closing your eyes to ease into sleep.

You couldn’t see the face he was making but it was full of love and admiration. He kissed your head and fed you praises as he drifted into sleep with you.

“No…I’m all yours MC.” 💕

[mymelodyheart]

Save The Date Chapter 11 ~What’s Brewing Claire?~

picture credit

 Previously in Stramash ...

Jamie pulled back to look at her face and tipped her chin up to survey the cut on her lips. "He did this?"

She could only nod as fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

Jamie turned the gun in his hand and marched towards the door, shouting at the police ushering Jack out to wait. Before Claire could scream for him to stop, he brought his forehead down on Jack's nose in a head butt before handing the weapon to a nearby officer. The sound of cartilage crunching echoed in the tiny room, making Claire wince. Jack fell onto his knees with a loud thud, holding his bleeding nose, shouting improprieties muffled by his hands.

"Now, that was uncalled for, Fraser," an officer clucked, but his grin and the amusement in his eyes implied he wasn't too bothered over Jack's injury. "Now go and get some rest. I'll handle the paperwork and delay the statement for tomorrow morning. You both have done enough to save the day."

  If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  Jamie studied Claire. She lay relaxed on the examination table, going through her phone and reading messages. She looked untroubled and seemed to have recovered from the ordeal this past weekend. The only tell-tale sign left of that hellish night was the tiny scab on her lower lip and bruising on her right cheek where Jack Randall had struck her. She was whole and safe, and yet here he was, having trouble letting go of that incident.

When he'd helplessly watched Jack shoved a gun against her neck and dragged her away from his sight, he'd felt the full gravity of her vulnerability and his inadequacy to secure her safety. But how Claire had handled the situation was nothing short of mind-blowing, albeit heart-stopping. She'd kept her presence of mind, aptly keeping Geneva talking while the tech specialist monitored the audio listening device. The moment they'd identified the voice on the phone, the administration in Broadmoor had been immediately alerted to make sure Geneva didn't go anywhere until the police arrived.

Geneva and Jack were in jail now, awaiting trial and most likely would stay there for a very long time. He really needed to stop fixating on what could have gone wrong and focus on the matter at hand, like their baby's condition and Claire's health.

He puffed out a breath and sprung onto his feet. "Ye comfy, Sassenach?"

"I'm good," she replied, without looking up from her phone screen.

"Ye ken, we can cancel the baby reveal for another day."

"I know, but I prepared so much food already."

They were having his family and closest friends over for afternoon tea to share the news of their baby. Claire had insisted on a celebration to invalidate the ordeal Geneva had put them through, determined not to allow recent events to cast a shadow over their upcoming nuptials. Jamie had thought it was too soon, but Claire had pressed that the sooner they moved forward from the incident, the better. 

So last night, she'd spent the entire evening preparing shortcrust pastries, scones batter and making Victorian sponge cake. Apparently, she'd taken some lessons in baking and cooking from Mrs Fitz so that she could host parties like Jenny and his ma. It was as if her work, all the travelling she'd been doing, preparing for the wedding and recovering from trauma wasn't enough. She also needed to put up a brave front.

Though the doctor had given Claire an all-clear in London after a routine checkup, Jamie had insisted on another examination when she'd complain of spotting last night. He hadn't a clue what that had meant, but the concerned look on her face was enough for him to push her for another doctor's appointment. To his relief, she'd hardly put up a fight, and he'd immediately arranged a consultation with a private practice to speed things along since the NHS hospitals were notorious for long waits.

"I just want ye to be certain, Sassenach. That's all. I dinnae want this tea party putting a strain on ye."

Claire put her phone down and glanced up at him. "I'm pregnant, Jamie, not incapacitated. I know you're worried about the spotting, but I'm quite certain pregnant women gets them sometimes. I don't feel ill, but here we are, taking precautions."

Sighing, he moved to her side and took her hand in his. "It's just that I'm bothered about that bruise behind yer back. It looks vicious. I ken bruising looks a lot worse than it is, but I cannae help but wonder if the baby has been harmed when ye banged yer behind on those shelving units after Jack pushed ye. I'm concerned about any delayed complications. Or if the doctor in London overlooked something."

She squeezed his hand. "Your worries are valid, Jamie. The odds of miscarriage or complications might be highest in the first trimester, but I haven't had any issues." She shrugged. "Oh, well, except for the tiny spotting last night. I'm sure everything's fine. Try not to worry."

Easier said than done, Jamie thought. How could Claire sit there looking so calm?  Now that she's pregnant, the world was suddenly full of threats: unpasteurised juice and dairy, soft cheeses that she loved so much, fish high in mercury, saunas and hot tubs, secondhand smoke, changing Adso's litterbox. Not to mention aunt Jocasta's bloody stories of baby-abducting fairies. He really needed to stop reading too much pregnancy information; otherwise, he'd go insane.

Claire gave him a look that said she could tell he was overthinking things.

He promptly kissed her on the lips. "Aye, I guess ye're right," he conceded. "I'm sorry for over-reacting."

The door suddenly opened, and in walked a friendly-looking middle-aged female doctor. "Hello, Claire! Dr Fiona Innes. How are we feeling today?"

"I'm good, just a bit nervous about the spotting," Claire breathed. 

"Understandably." Then the doctor turned to Jamie. "And ye're..."

"James Fraser. The one who got her up the duff," he replied, taking the doctor's outstretched hand and giving it a firm shake. 

"Jamie!" Claire gasped, her face crimsoning profusely.

The doctor laughed. "Hah! I like that! A good sense of humour will get ye through anything." She dragged the ultrasound monitor closer to the exam table and pulled up a stool. "So, let's get started so we can put both yer mind at ease, shall we?" She proceeded to put gloves on and prepare the probe that Jamie had the unfortunate luck of knowing already what it was for. "Now, Claire, I want ye to lie back and place yer feet in the stirrups." 

Claire did as she was told while Jamie helped her ease down. He winced when he heard the sound of latex snapping over the probe. He looked away and took Claire's hand in his.

"Is this your first ultrasound visit, Mr Fraser?"

He glanced over his shoulder, thinking the doctor must have noticed the strain on his face. "Aye and no."

Dr Innes arched an eyebrow.

Jamie pointed at the probe and tried not to grimace. "I've seen a doctor used that thing on her when she was hospitalised a few weeks ago. I hadn't known what was going on then, so I walked away and let them get on with it."

"I see." The doctor refocused her attention back to Claire. "Now relax for me and big deep breaths," Dr Innes advised as she put lubricating gel on the blunt tip of the probe. "This will be a tad bit uncomfortable."

Claire shut her eyes and took a deep breath while Jamie whispered all sorts of nonsense in her ear. When her grip clenched into a tight vice, he pressed his lips on the top of her head.

A few seconds passed, and that's when he heard it. He stilled. It was loud, clear and steady. The unmistakable sound of a heartbeat coming from the monitor. It was their baby's. He let out a sharp exhale, realising he'd discovered something powerful in the tiny, vulnerable life form growing in Claire's womb.

His ma once said that the heartbeat was the first music that a child heard and that every bairn was born knowing the rhythm of their mother's song. To Jamie, this was the sound of their child's soul, the unspoken words already speaking volumes. It was as if it was saying, I'm alive and well, can you hear me?

"Weel, that sounds like a strong and healthy heartbeat there," Dr Innes remarked. "See right there?" Jamie and Claire stirred in their positions to take a better look at where the doctor was pointing. "That's yer baby."

Releasing Claire's hand, Jamie stepped closer to the monitor and tipped his head to the side, adjusting his eyes to discern the grainy image on the monitor. When he finally figured out the shape, mixed emotions began to bombard him in all directions. He felt the complexity of love at seeing a piece of himself and Claire on the screen, inspiring fierce protective instinct to kindle within him. Words like elation, joy and sobering responsibility were too meagre terms and did not give justice in describing how visceral all his emotions were.

"T-that ..." Jamie pointed an index finger at the image, swallowing the lump in his throat. "Is that a ..."

"It's not what ye think, Mr Fraser. That's the foot," Dr Innes responded briskly. She shifted the probe at a different angle to capture another image. "As far as I can see, everything seems to be in perfect working order. I can safely say ye have a healthy, strong baby, so ye can both rest easy."

Jamie continued to stare at the monitor, still trying to wrap the idea of impending fatherhood around his head. "The baby is no' missing any parts, is it?"

"The baby has everything it should have at this stage of the pregnancy," the doctor replied, amused. "Though I think we'll need another few weeks to be able to tell the gender."

"Thank you so much, doctor," Claire said gratefully, pushing herself upright. "We were worried about the spotting and thought it might have had to do with the stress and trauma of what happened last weekend. It was mad, really. I nearly got abducted and had a gun pointed at me."

The doctor threw the probe's latex into the waste and began peeling off her gloves, seemingly unaffected by what Claire had just revealed, making Jamie think physicians were used to hearing such stories. The doctor gave them both an understanding look. "Having a gun pointed at ye is quite jarring, so I understand why ye're both concerned. So how are ye coping mentally?" 

"I try not to dwell on it and carry on as usual," Claire shrugged. "So far, I'm dealing with it fine."

The doctor looked at Claire curiously, her expression full of empathy. "Sometimes ignoring it isn't as cut and dried as you think. Try and get some counselling. Ye're going to deal enough with all the hormones impacting yer physiological, physical and mental well being. This is the time to be enjoying this exciting time in yer life, so counselling is just taking a precautionary step to ensure you are in a good place and prepared for what the next few months will throw at ye."

Jamie locked eyes with Claire, and a silent agreement passed between them. They both understood the impact of a traumatising experience, and he wanted to take the doctor's advice on board. 

"I'll make sure she and the baby are well taken care of," he reassured the doctor, patting Claire's thigh.

"I'm sure ye will," the doctor smiled, pressing buttons on the monitor.

"Let's just hope he won't go over the top," Claire added. "He has a tendency to do that."

The doctor pulled out copies of ultrasound images from the printer and glanced up at Jamie. "I can understand the need to protect, but just bear in mind, us women are more resilient and stronger than we look," she pointed out. "And pregnant women aren't as frail as society perceives them to be."

Jamie laughed. "There's no question about that. After all, my wife-to-be here achieved what twenty-four specialist firearms officers could not."

"Oh?" Dr Innes looked surprised. "And what was that?"

"She single-handedly took down a maximum-security prisoner escapee, helped led the police to his psychopathic accomplice and in the process saved an innocent mistakenly imprisoned," Jamie explained. "I ken it was a foolish move with her being pregnant and all ..."

"It might have been foolish, but I happen to believe Claire's response is inherent in all mothers and mothers-to-be, and it's something almost impossible for the human brain to override." 

"Och, aye?"

"It's called maternal instinct, Mr Fraser, and it's as old as life itself." Dr Innes got up and handed him an envelope containing the ultrasound images. "So woe to anyone who dares a mother-to-be or new mother harm because they're utterly more ferocious than any man wielding a gun when it comes to defending their nest." She looked between him and Claire and smiled. "Anyway, congratulations to you both on your coming parenthood." Then she faced Jamie and patted him on the shoulder. "And as for ye, congratulations on yer newly acquired bodyguard. Ye can sleep well tonight." 

..........

Jamie walked in and placed the last of their shopping bags onto the kitchen counter. "Is there anything else ye need, Sassenach, before I go?"

Claire felt him approach and busied herself, placing apples in a large bowl and then lemons in another. "Umm ...I think I have everything I need." She felt his eyes boring into her back but tried her best not to get distracted. "Shall I make a sandwich to take with you?"

"No, I'm no' hungry."

"Oh, alright ...I guess I shall see you later then."

"I have a few minutes to spare. Want to talk?"

"Talk about what?"

"What ye're feeling. Ye haven't said much all morning ...since we left the clinic. And ye hardly talked to me while we went food shopping."

She took out a knife and honing steel from a drawer and went through the motion of sharpening the blade. "Oh ...I guess I must have been preoccupied with my mental to-do list. That's all."

A long silence ensued, and after what felt like an eternity, he let out an exasperated sigh. "Sassenach, can ye stop what ye're doing for a minute and look at me?"

Hot tears suddenly settled behind her eyes, but she fiercely blinked them back and breathed deeply, swallowing down conflicting emotions and refusing to let them fall. She didn't want to be the type of woman who cried at the littlest and inconsequential thing. She'd never been a crier before, and she wasn't about to become one if she could help it.

"I'm busy, Jamie."

"Please."

Bracing herself, she placed down her utensils and faced him. "What is it?"

"This ..." Jamie waved his hand at the shopping bags on the counter. "I ken what this is. Ye havenae sat still ever since we came back from our trip. Ye've decluttered our bedroom and cleaned out all the kitchen cupboards. And now an afternoon tea party? I ken what ye're doing. Ye're keeping yersel' busy to forget what happened in London instead of talking about it."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not that."

Jamie impatiently rubbed a hand on the back of his neck. "Weel, what is up with ye then?"

"Hormones."

"Hormones," Jamie echoed. "Why did you no' just say so?"

She felt her face heat up. "I don't know. Maybe I didn't know it at the time. Or perhaps, because it all seems so silly that I'm getting all worked up for nothing."

Jamie stepped closer and braced her cheeks with both hands, a calloused thumb tenderly swiping her lower lip. "Listen to me very carefully. Whatever ye're feeling or going through, hormonal or not, is never silly. Everything ye have to say is important to me. Trust me on that. I always want to know if something is bothering ye and be able to help ye fix it. Yer body is going through many changes, and it's normal yer emotions are all over the place. So no more self-deprecating thoughts about yer feelings. Am I making myself clear?"

She pursed her lips and nodded, tamping down the urge to cry.

"Very well then, tell me what's going through that mind of yers. At least we can clear the air between us before I go, and my whole family comes and start noticing that something isnae right. Today is supposed to be a celebration of our baby. I dinnae want anything to ruin this day in as much as I think we should delay this for another time."

"Fine." She shut her eyes to search for the right words, but no matter how she formulated them in her head, it didn't sound right. Saying it out loud would only make her appear pathetic. But there was no way around it once Jamie set his mind in extracting something from her. 

"Sassenach?"

Her eyes flew open. "Yes?"

"Yer face is getting redder by the second. I'm beginning to worry."

"Very well, if you must know ..." She blew out a breath. "You haven't touched me since that night in London, that's what," she blurted out. "I feel like you're avoiding me. Every time it was time for us to go to bed, you always had some excuse, like you haven't walked the dog or you need to check the emails." Unable to hold it back any longer, she suddenly burst out crying. "I know it's hormones talking, and I'm acting silly. But I can't help but feel the way I feel because I'm hormonal and horny. That's why I'm keeping myself busy, so I will not overthink things. Because if I did, I'd start believing you don't want me anymore, even if logic says it's not true. Happy now?"

He blinked rapidly as if his brain was short-circuiting. 

"Yeah, just the reaction I knew I was going to get. See what I mean when I said I was acting silly?"

"No," he groaned out loud. "Sweet baby Jesus! Ye cannae say things like horny  when I have to go."

Claire slapped Jamie on the chest. "Jamie! You wanted to know what was wrong! Now that I've said it, you can't blame me for it!"

"Cancel the tea party, and I'll tell Willie I'll be late!"

"No!"

"Why no'?"

"Because!"

With a deep groan, he grabbed her neck from behind and gave her a hard kiss. There was nothing tender or playful about it, just a desperate act of trying to get his fill. He let out a frustrated moan as his tongue swept in her mouth, and a hand cupped her breast, his arousal hard and thick against her belly, letting her know how much he wanted her. When he finally broke the kiss, they were both gasping for air. He pressed their foreheads together, breathing harshly into her face. "How could ye think, even in yer hormonal state, I dinnae want ye any more? Damn it, Sassenach, I've been aching for ye these past few days."

"Then why didn't you touch me?" 

He shook his head as he attempted to even his breath. "That night in London, after I took ye back to the hotel, I wanted to bury myself deep inside ye so I could remind myself that ye're really alive and back in my arms. But when I saw that bruising behind yer back and knowing what ye've just been through in yer pregnant state, I thought if I took ye right there and then, I might cause ye irreparable damage, physically and psychologically. I wanted to make sure ye're properly healed first and that our baby was safe. God, all those nights I was away from our bed, I've been doing push-ups to release all those pent-up frustrations of not being able to make love to ye."

"So you did want me all along ..."

He tapped her nose. "Aye, ye silly goose."

"Oh Jamie," she sighed. "You still don't get it, do you?" She placed a hand against his face and smiled for the first time that morning. 

"Get what?" he asked, looking suddenly confused.

"You should know by now, lovemaking is the best stress reliever. I thought you knew that." 

"Weel ..."

"Remember the times when you were all worked up and conflicted, and how much better you felt after sex?" When he nodded, she pressed on. "Whenever you and I have sex, whether it's fast, hard, long or a quickie, it always came from a place of love. And we've talked about this before ...love heals. The most wonderful thing about our lovemaking, it puts us in that intimate space where we can better connect, heal, open us to those hard conversations, helping us in the process to find closure and release. If sex worked for you to ease your stress, why should it be any different for me? I needed you most after that horrendous night, Jamie. I needed your body to ground me. But I understand now why you didn't touch me that night."

Jamie stared at the ceiling and sighed before looking at her with a mixture of wonderment and torment. He let out a pained laugh. "Weel, right now, I'm under a lot of stress and pressure." He took her hand and placed it on his bulging arousal to make a point. "How about we continue this in the bedroom and let off some steam? I'm stressed, and ye're horny. Ideal combo! Ye can use my body anyway ye want."

Claire clucked her tongue and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "Oh, no, you don't, you sneaky, Scot! You're running late as it is." She placed both hands on his chest and began pushing him out of the kitchen. "How about you let me get on with food preparation, and you finish what you need to do so you can come home as soon as you can in time for the tea party?" she proposed.

"How about my stress levels?" he grumbled.

"Your stress levels are fine!" She turned him around and smacked him on the bum. "Now go. Mrs Fitz will be here any minute to bring the Battenberg cake I ordered."

At the mention of Mrs Fitz, Jamie didn't need any more prodding. He gave her another quick kiss and left the cottage, muttering something about getting a new house before slamming the door behind him.

..........

The rest of the morning and early afternoon passed by quick, and something in Claire lightened even though she was a nervous wreck hosting her first traditional English tea party.

She looked at the kitchen counter laden with several tiered plates displaying the delicacies she'd meticulously prepared. She was ready, and everything looked perfect. 

She'd made four different tea sandwiches to be on the safe side: pear and stilton, cucumber and cream cheese, egg salad, and smoked salmon and dill. And then there were scones, lemon curd tartlets, fruit tarts, and shortbread and Linzer cookies she was looking forward to gorge on. On the other end of the counter were Mrs Fitz's Battenberg cake and Claire's pièce de résistance, Victoria's sponge filled with jam, berries and double cream. Her teabox was neatly packed with Darjeeling, Earl Grey, and Assam, and the pitchers of lavender and elderflower lemonade were cooling nicely in the fridge. 

Perfection!

She was about to wash the sink when she heard a rap on the window. She looked up and saw Jenny waving at her. Letting her in through the kitchen back door, she was surprised to see her carrying a stack of real estate pamphlets and magazines with its pages tabbed with colourful sticky notes.

"Jen! What's all that?"

Jenny shrugged. "Weel, after what happened to ye in London and with everything going on at the moment, I thought I'd make yer life easier." She plonked down her load on a nearby stool and picked up a magazine, leafing through the pages. "I heard from Willie ye and Jamie are looking for a bigger place. So I decided to grab all these. It has listings of every available property for sale in the surrounding area. Ma and I saved the pages we thought ye and Jamie might like."

"Oh, Jen!" Claire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

Jenny waved a hand. "Think nothing of it!"

Feeling emotional, Claire gave Jenny a big hug. "That's very thoughtful of you. Thank you so much." When she finally broke away from their embrace, she noticed deep furrows on Jenny's forehead. "Jen? What's wrong?"

Jenny's usually brilliant blue eyes suddenly looked serious as they landed on the bruising on her cheek. "Does that still hurt?" 

Claire touched her cheek. "Oh, this? No, not at all. It looks worse than it is. Poor Jamie getting all these weird looks when we're out and about. He was even accused by some granny of being an abuser. I can understand why but I had to step in and explain to the old dear."

Jenny wrung her hands and gave her a small smile. "Actually, I -I came early because I wanted to talk with ye. Just us two."

"Oh, do you want a drink first?" Claire offered, jerking a thumb in the direction of the fridge. "I have some lemonade ..."

"No! Please! I need to get this out before anything else."

Claire nodded. "Alright then, I'm all ears."

"I-I want to apologise for ..." Jenny's chin crumpled, seemingly attempting to blink back her tears. " ...for what happened to ye in London."

"Wot? Oh, Jen! Why are you apologising? That wasn't your fault."

Jenny raised a hand, which told Claire to let her talk. "It was in some ways my fault, Claire. Geneva was my friend, and I tried to push Jamie and her together. I shouldn't have told her last year there was a vacancy in the village, and then she wouldn't have come back and pursued her interest in my brother. I honestly had no idea she was capable of such horrid deeds. If I'd known, I wouldn't have taken her into my circle of friends and family."

Claire shook her head. "No one could have known, and no one knew. Even her work colleagues and peers were shocked when they found out what she's done. She's a master manipulator, Jen, and she probably manipulated you too under the guise of friendship."

"Still ..." Jenny insisted. "If it wasn't for my meddling ..."

"Stop right there!" Claire wagged a finger at Jenny. "We've locked horns on the subject before and moved on from that already. Alright? Past is past. We all make mistakes. The most important thing is we learn from it. So no more mention of Geneva."

This time Jenny's smile reached her eyes. "Fine! Just dinnae tell Jamie we talked about this."

"Whyever not?"

"Jamie has given everyone in the family strict orders, not to mention about London today."

"Really?"

Jenny nodded. "He didn't want to ruin today's celebration rehashing what happened. Unfortunately, I had to in order for me to apologise, but enough of that now." She clapped her hands. "So, how about that drink. I'm parched." She whirled around and stopped, her eyes widening when she saw the spread Claire had prepared. Walking over to the kitchen counter, she took in everything with a smile. "Goodness, did ye make all these?"

Claire smiled with pride. "I did. Except for the Battenberg cake. Mrs Fitz made it."

"Ye said, ye didnae know how to bake," Jenny said almost begrudgingly. 

"Now I do, thanks to the wifey Bootcamp I attended, also known as Mrs Fitz's kitchen."

"These all look scrumptious. It's been ages since I had a proper English afternoon tea." Jenny glanced up at her and grinned. "So, what are we celebrating?"

Claire nearly blurted out the baby news, but she quickly caught herself. Sliding an arm around her soon-to-be sister-in-law, she walked Jenny to the end of the counter to show her the sponge cake. "Today, we're celebrating love, friends and family."

Jenny poked a finger into the clotted cream and licked. "I like the sound of that. That'll always be a perfect excuse for a celebration or a proper afternoon tea party."

Claire smiled. "I couldn't agree more, Jen. I couldn't agree more."

..........

Jamie came home from work and noticed all the sandwiches, tarts and cakes laid out on the kitchen counter. He was mildly astonished that Claire had been able to prepare so much in the nick of time. He glanced out the window and spied her and Jenny in the garden, busily arranging tablecloths on the long wooden table. Looking at his watch, he realised he had about fifteen minutes to get ready before their friends and family started arriving. 

But first things first.

Stepping out into the backyard, he snuck behind Claire and wrapped his arms around her waist, planting a soft kiss on her neck. "Mmm, ye smell of berries, lemon and lavender," he whispered, running his lips on her bare skin and ignoring Jenny's mumbling about getting a room.

Claire turned in his hold and smiled up at him. "And you reek, mister. You won't be served tea smelling like that."

"Fancy a shower with me then?" he suggested, feeling mischievous. "Jen's here to look out for guests."

"Nice try, but I had a shower already, and Jen is our guest today." 

He leaned down and nibbled her earlobe, making her squeal.

"Jamie, you're going to get my dress dirty. Oh, fiddlesticks ..." She suddenly stilled mid-laughter and made a face, her hand covering her nose. "Urgh ...what's that smell?"

Jamie let her go and took a whiff of his shirt. "Oh, it's just a bit of wood stain I was working with. It'll come off in a wash."

Her face suddenly turned pale. "Oh, God, I think I'm going to be sick. Tell Jen I'll be right back ...and you ...you go have a shower before your parents arrive." With that, she spun around and ran back to the cottage.

Stunned, he watched her disappearing form and whistled under his breath. "What just happened?" he muttered, even though he knew the answer had to do with the dreaded pregnancy sickness. She'd been doing so well so far he almost thought morning sickness was nothing but a myth, even though Claire had revealed, she couldn't stand the smell of aniseed, star anise, fennel, and liquorice.

"Maybe, she's pregnant and suffering from sickness?" Jenny replied, walking past him with an armful of wildflowers to put into the empty vases dotted on the wooden table.

He hadn't realised Jenny had returned from wherever she'd disappeared to. He needed to be careful not to reveal their baby news too soon, or the surprise would be ruined. Jenny was simply someone who couldn't keep a secret. 

"Ach, I should have known chemical smells always make her nauseous," he explained, not wanting to give too much away to his perceptive sister.

Jenny twitched her lips from side to side as she trimmed the bouquet's stems with pruning shears. "Aye, that will be right!" she smirked.

He glared at his sister. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged and gave him a knowing look. "Nothing! Now go have a shower, and I'll take care of things here until Claire feels better."

Jamie was about to say more when he heard the sound of a car parking in the driveway. As Jenny made a move to take a look, he quickly made a beeline back to the cottage before anyone saw him, hoping Claire had already recovered from her bout of sickness.

..........

Jamie leaned back on his chair and glanced around. It was a perfect summer late afternoon, and everyone seemed to be having a great time and enjoying the food Claire had prepared. The sun warmed his face and bathed the garden in dazzling light, making the different shades of green and the profusion of wildflowers more vibrant and alive. The chatter was lively, and funnily enough, no one complained about the lack of alcohol which was highly unusual for a gathering in Scotland. But, he suspected his godfather must have a flask of whisky or something similar tucked away somewhere as he was getting louder and more boisterous as time went by.

He took Claire's hand in his, and she turned his way and smiled. Her face looked pale, but there was an aura of tranquillity radiating from her that told him she was happy and content. Though her plate was full of food, it remained untouched, and if anyone had noticed, no one said anything. "How are ye feeling, Sassenach?"

She took a huge deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then relaxed. "I'm fine," she sighed. "It's a lovely day, isn't it?"

He knew she was valiantly fighting back the sickness that must be creating havoc in her body but was too stubborn to give in to it. "Shall we tell them about the surprise so you can finally have a rest?" he suggested in a low voice, so no one would hear. "It cannae be comfortable sitting here when ye feel so unwell."

She shook her head as she gulped in more air. "I want to wait for uncle Lamb. He'll be here soon."

Quentin's plane from Athens should have arrived four hours ago but was delayed because of some mechanical issues. Jamie hoped for Claire's sake Quentin was on his way and wasn't dilly-dallying somewhere, like planning a grand entrance. Jamie kissed her cheek, hoping to sweet talk her to giving up this charade of wellness. "I'm pretty sure ye're uncle will understand once he finds out about yer condition."

"I know," Claire murmured. "But I want today to be perfect and complete. I want to see uncle Lamb's face when we announce it."

"But it's already perfect."

"Not without uncle Lamb."

Jamie prayed for patience and tamped down the urge to haul this beautiful but infuriating woman in his arms and carry her to bed. He squeezed her hand and yielded to her request, knowing this get-together was important to her. "Whatever ye say, Sassenach. Just let me know if ye need anything."

"I will," she replied between sharp intakes of breath.

Jamie decided not to press anymore. He knew this was one battle he couldn't win without creating a scene in front of their friends and family. But if Claire thought she was pulling this act off, Jamie was convinced, his perceptive family had already caught on with what was passing. Claire was a terrible actress, and she couldn't even lie to save her life.

Fortunately, their intimate tea party was animated and loud, and it diverted the attention from Claire. Directly opposite them, Tom and Willie were discussing the merits of owning a mini campervan for spontaneous weekend trips around the Highlands. On one end of the table, Murtagh passionately ranted and raved to Brian and uncle Duncan about the Tories and how SNP was the solution to Scotland's political future. Next to Claire, Annalise showed Ellen and aunt Jocasta how to work the Instagram app while Jenny, Mary and Geillis cackled over some celebrity gossip they've probably read somewhere. Grannie Annie had meanwhile fallen asleep in her seat with Adso in her lap and Rollo at her feet. At the far end of the garden, Finlay, Geillis' boyfriend and Ian were having a go at playing badminton but kept hitting the shuttlecock over the hedge to both their frustration. 

Though Jamie was happy the tea party had gone as planned, he couldn't relax, too worried about Claire predicament. If it got to the stage where Claire lost any more colour to her face, he was sure no one would be able to blame him for whatever course of action he would take next.

"Right, does anyone want some fresh cuppa?" Claire suddenly announced, getting up from her seat.

Annalise immediately jumped to her feet. "I can do that."

Willie got up too. "I'll put the kettle on."

"I'll clear up the empty dishes," Geillis offered, already grabbing an empty tiered plate stand. "We dinnae want this stunning antique piece being knocked over, now do we?"

Ellen reached over to Claire from her seat and patted her hand. "Everything was lovely, dear. I couldnae decide which was my favourite. And that lavender lemonade was refreshing."

"Aye," Murtagh piped in as he got up and sat directly opposite Claire. "I bet it will taste even better with gin or vodka."

Brian frowned at Murtagh. "The lavender lemonade tastes good as it is. There's nae need to spoil it with alcohol. Besides, it's good for ye to give yer poor liver a wee break. If ye're no' careful, yer gene pool will soon have a swim-up bar."

"I dinnae drink that much," Murtagh grumbled. 

"Aye ye do," Aunt Jocasta pointed out. "Dinnae think for one minute I didnae notice ye've been spiking yer tea."

Before Murtagh could retort, Geillis came back in time with a steaming mug and placed it in front of Claire.

"Ooh, what's this?" Claire asked, looking into her drink.

"It's ginger and turmeric tea," Geillis declared. "It's good for ye. I brought it with me from Glasgow. It's organic, and thought ye might like it."

Jamie couldn't help but smile to himself. He knew ginger tea or any form of ginger were effective in reducing nausea. Claire probably knew too because her eyes lit up and gave Geillis an appreciative nod. If he wasn't a hundred per cent certain earlier, everyone knew about Claire's condition, now he's more convinced than ever they were playing along. Jamie appreciated the gesture, but this had gone on too far. Where the bloody hell is Quentin?

"I'm back!" boomed a voice, waking grannie Annie up. It was as if Jamie's thoughts had conjured Claire's uncle from thin air, and there he was making a grand entrance as Jamie had expected. "I hope there are some leftovers. I'm famished."

Claire laughed, twisting around on her seat to watch her uncle approaching. Ellen got up and started plating some food for Quentin.

"There's plenty of leftovers," Annalise assured as she placed another platter of sandwiches on the table. "Claire made enough for the entire village."

Quentin gave Claire a quick kiss on the forehead before greeting the rest of the party, who'd gathered back around the table. "Sorry for the delay," he apologised, finally taking a seat next to Claire. "Our plane was stuck on the tarmac without any air conditioning. We had no choice but to sit there and stew in the heat while the engineers fixed the plane."

"Well, I'm glad you're here now," Claire said, looking adoringly at her uncle. 

Quentin stared at the bruising on her cheek. "I don't like the look of that. It looks ..."

Sounds of several throats clearing ensued, a signal to Quentin not to pursue the London topic any further.

"Very well," Quentin nodded in understanding. "I'm glad too that I'm here."

Claire smiled. "Alrighty, so now that everyone's here, Jamie and I have an announcement to ..."

"Hold that thought, sweetheart," Quentin interrupted as he bent down to retrieve the holdall he'd placed at his feet. "I brought a souvenir."

Jamie bit his tongue at the interruption.  

"I hope it's not another ceramic plate," Claire groaned, unaware of Jamie's frustration.

"No. I got something better." Quentin waggled his bushy eyebrows as he unzipped his bag and proceeded to rummage through its contents. "Wait for it! Wait for it!" Suddenly he yanked out a bottle and held it up for everyone to see. "I got Ouzo!" he announced with satisfaction.

"Yesss, ya beauty!" Murtagh cheered happily, banging a hand on the table. "I love Ouzo."

Aunt Jocasta scowled at Murtagh. "Ye like anything alcoholic. Ye'll drink Listerine if it was placed in front of ye."

"What's Ouzo?" Claire asked as she stared curiously at the offering. "I mean, I've heard of it before, but I've forgotten what it is."

Jamie was about to fill in the information and tell her she wouldn't be able to stand the smell of it when Quentin expertly uncapped the bottle and held it under Claire's nose. Oblivious to Jamie's hitch of breath, Claire pressed her nose closer to the opening of the bottle to take a better whiff. Ah, shite!

"It's an anise flavoured liquor," Quentin described. "Mostly served as an aperitif in Greece.."

Jamie watched in awe as Claire's head jerked back and her face contorted when her senses registered the smell, and a low, gurgling sound came from deep down in her belly. He winced, half expecting any moment now a horrific scene of projectile vomiting, and the recipient would be none other than his godfather sat opposite her. But Claire jumped to her feet, startling everyone, and her hand immediately clapped over her mouth, golden eyes bright and tearing up. Quick thinking Jenny, grabbed a sprig of mint she'd put in the vase, macerated it in her hands and offered it to Claire. Everyone gasped and watched in fascination as Claire took the green leaves and stuffed her mouth with them, and began to chew, jaws working overtime, reminding Jamie of a cow feeding in the fields. Nobody said a word, waiting for the next scene to unfold or for someone to offer an explanation.

Swallowing audibly, Claire finally untensed and slumped back down to a loud hearty burp. And as if nothing had happened, she calmly drank a good measure of her ginger tea, put the mug down and then smiled. "Sorry about that. So where were we again?"

Eyes bulging almost out of his head, Quentin sputtered before he managed to string a coherent sentence together. "W-What the bloody hell was that? Was that some kind of weird side effects from what happened in London that I have no idea of?"

Claire looked at Jamie, looking suddenly exhausted. "Can you please tell them?"

"Tell me what?" Quentin bristled.

Jamie dropped his head on his folded arms resting on the table and allowed it to bounce once. Twice. Thrice. God must have taken pity of him because when he glanced up, everyone shouted in chorus. "Claire and Jamie are having a baby!"

   Dear Readers,

Thank you all for the response and feedback I received for my previous chapter. I know it got a bit crazy; therefore, today's update is more subdued to allow everyone's breathing to go back to normal.  Nevertheless, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much I've enjoyed writing it for you.

Anyway, I hope you're all keeping safe and taking care of yourself and mostly taking the time to enjoy the last days of summer. Keep up the good vibes and be well. X

[levis-little-nuggie]

How the brothers would react to catching f!MC riding a suction-cupped dildo on the communal HOL washing machine

I didn't think through how much I hate this idea, but I fuckin ran with it so here we are and I'm not apologizing. However the title is still a work in progress. I am accepting ideas.

This first one is Lucifer's reaction.

Warnings: little bit of blood (in a sexy way), he calls MC some vulgar names >:( but he apologizes so I guess it's okay, fem!MC because I was feeling self-indulgent.

Rating: explicit 😌

Word count (so far): 2,628

Carrying the weight of the hamper on her hip, MC closed the laundry room for behind her and padded over to the oversized washing machine. It was laundry day for her and living in a mansion with seven demon brothers didn't make this any easier. Their keen sense of smell had her on edge about keeping certain articles of clothing cleaner, washing them more frequently than when she lived in the human world.

She threw in her load of pajamas, towels, and underwear, including the pair she had been currently wearing, leaving her in an oversized shirt she'd "borrowed" from Beel. MC mixed in the detergent and fabric softener, and started the cycle. As the hot water started pouring into the bin, MC double-checked that the door was closed before pulling out the suction-cup dildo she'd hidden in the laundry bin and stuck it to the top of the washer. MC nudged the step stool closer to the machine, applied a generous amount of lube to the toy, clambered on top of the washer, and positioned herself over the dildo.

Thanks to previous instances in the laundry room, MC was fully aware of both the machine's durability to hold her weight comfortably, and its vigorous shaking when loads were unbalanced. Asmo had winked at her when she came running to him for help for taming the large appliance. "You could say, with a bit of creativity, it'd be the next best thing to sitting on my face, hon."

He'd been right. Unfortunately, this also meant that Asmo knew what laundry day meant to MC and she already felt mortified sharing this dirty secret with Asmo so MC tried her best to schedule her trip to the laundry room for whenever he wasn't home. Luckily enough, it seemed the rest of the brothers were completely unaware of her sinful indulgence and this activity quickly became addicting.

Having already been wet from the excitement, MC's fingers slid into her, pumping and scissoring to stretch herself open. She pressed the tip of the toy against her opening, biting her lip to stifle the noises she wanted to make as her fingers moved to circle over her clit, squeezing her eyes shut as her hips lowered onto the toy. Taking a few moments to breathe from the size of the dildo filling her up, MC maneuvered her legs to shift from her kneeling position sitting on the machine, toy fully sheathed inside, her ass against the lid, and legs hanging over the top.

Her hands trembled from both the excitement and the warmth that stirred in her lower abdomen as she reached for her phone; the machine would be still for awhile as the clothes soaked, but MC loved to fantasize she was cock-warming any one of the brothers until they both gave in and he fucked her mercilessly.

Lazily circling her hips to feel the toy move around inside her, MC mindlessly nibbled on her thumb while flicking thru Devilgram. Scrolling down the feed, she stopped to watch a video Mammon had posted, the audio flowing through the DDD's speakers a teaser for an upcoming song he was releasing. Turning up the volume on her device, MC let the video repeat as she felt herself getting hyped for the track to release. After double-tapping to like the post and leaving an energetic comment, MC opened the music app on her DDD and shuffled the playlist she made of the brothers' songs to stream while she opened a game on her phone to complete the daily task while waiting for the washer cycle to start.

The above set-up will be the same for all the brothers. Below this point will be Lucifer's reaction.

Another prank from the Lucifer You S*ck team left the eldest with some ruffled feathers and an ever-growing coffee stain on his RAD uniform. A vein pulsed on his forehead as he sauntered to the laundry room.

What he wasn't expecting, however, was to hear MC singing along to Satan's song behind the laundry room door. The eldest brother hesitated, his grip tightening on the doorknob as he debated waiting for her laundry to finish but found his brows furrowing as she stopped singing, the machine started its spin cycle, and the faintest of moans floated through the door.

"What in Diavolo's name-" Lucifer opened the door to investigate but halted as he took in the scene before him. MC's eyes had widened, staring directly at Lucifer in a way that perfectly explained the human idiom "like a deer stuck in the headlights." Her mouth was agape but quickly snapped shut as she tried to stifle her panting, legs crossing themselves in an attempt to look innocent, but her white-knuckle grip on the edge of the washer had him feeling alarmed.

"MC, what's going on? Are you feeling unwell?" The machine had started rocking as it began its spin cycle, but Lucifer couldn't figure out why MC was sitting on top of the washer. Was she feeling ill? Her forehead had a sheen of sweat, did she have a fever? Lucifer dropped his clean uniform and crossed the room so he was directly infront of MC, reaching out to feel her heated face, completely disregarding her feeble attempts to assure him she was fine.

'Lucifer! I'm fine, just doing some laundry' was what she wanted to say. However, with the machine rocking, the dildo was rubbing right up against her g-spot and she was fighting the urge to grind her hips. She managed to sound out the first half of his name, but the way his gorgeous, ruby eyes looked into hers with concern, his facial features that were carved by God himself, and a single thrust against that spot had her shivering, finishing the rest of his name in a sultry moan.

The Avatar of Pride blinked as the cogs in his brain stuttered trying to piece together what was happening, his hand froze in mid-air as he had been reaching out to feel the temperature of her skin. The machine continued to rock and MC couldn't find the strength to pretend she wasn't riding a dildo on the communal washing machine and felt her control starting to slip. MC couldn't read the expression on his face and averted her gaze, trying to deny that him watching her like this was turning her on even more.

Seeing his hand stretched out, MC leaned forward the small distance to press her cheek against his palm, biting her lip as she stole a glance at the demon. His eyes remained transfixed, dazed, but he didn't pull his hand away and MC was feeling a little more daring than usual. Tilting her head, she pressed his thumb against her lip, her eyes flickering again to his own for barely half a second, and closed her lips around the tip of his thumb, running her tongue along the seam of the leather. His lack of response coaxed MC on to keep going. Her tongue drew the digit in further, lips gliding over the leather, the material fueling new fantasies she'd previously overlooked.

As the dildo continued its steady rocking, MC felt her control melting away and frustration slowly started to build. Why hadn't he moved? Surely it'd be better if the eldest had scoffed in disgust and turned away than to have him just staring at her like this. She swirled her tongue around his thumb, lips hollowing as she sucked, trying to illicit some sort of response from the demon.

However, he remanded unmoving. MC felt an array of emotions ranging from frustration, shame, embarrassment, anger, all mixed with the sexual desire raging thru her, MC felt tears prick her eyes. She released the thumb from between her lips with an audible pop and faced Lucifer with a snarl; which he found endearing and as threatening as the chihuahua.

"I don't do live performances. Either touch me or leave." MC made a show or grabbing her breast from under her shirt, letting the pleasure from the toy fill her senses and began grounding her hips against the toy as the spin cycle picked up speed. Getting ready to bark at him again, MC yelped as the shirt was torn open and a pair of hands gripped her hips keeping her still but the dildo continued moving with the machine.

"I didn't realize our little human was such a naughty slut. Really. Sticking a toy on our washing machine? Are you that desperate to be fucked?" Nails bit into her flesh as his voice called out her sins, all traces of her bravado gone, replaced with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment and shame. MC tried hiding her face but he still saw the tears that threatened to spill over before crawl down her face and cooed.

"There's nothing to feel ashamed over, my dove. I apologize if I was too vulgar." Lucifer lifted her hips and she squirmed, not ready for him to see the full extent of the situation; the idea of the dildo coated in her juices waving about on top of the poor washing machine only intensified her embarrassment. However, before she could speak out, Lucifer dropped her hips causing her to slam herself back down on the toy. Stars erupted across her vision as the demon repeated the action, drinking in her reactions and felt his erection strain against his pants.

"This carnal desire is human nature. If anything, it's our own fault for not considering such a basic need." His fingers trailed along her neck, tapping against her pulse as if in thought. The hum of the washer broke through the moment and Lucifer clicked his tongue behind his teeth. He reached behind her to turn off the machine and lifted MC off the machine, and the dildo.

MC didn't get a chance to wince from the manhandling as her lips were immediately covered with his own and she felt him pulling her close to him, his hands urging her to wrap her legs around him. She couldn't match the fire he was pouring into her fast enough and he growled, simultaneously smacking her ass and grinding his erection against her folds. This new side of the prideful demon caught her off guard, but the smack brought her back with a fervor.

Her hands fumbled with the buttons on his collar and he kneaded where he spanked her, causing MC to mewl into the kiss. One of his hands moved up to hold the back of her neck as he walked to pin her against a wall. Her legs squeezed his hips tighter and he reached up to break open the collar of his shirt, shedding the clothing haphazardly somewhere else in the room. Meanwhile, MC moved to undo his pants, reaching into his trousers to palm his erection. Lucifer hissed and grabbed her wrists, pinning them to her stomach with one hand.

Releasing her lips, Lucifer latched onto her throat, biting down on the skin above her pulse and positioned himself at her entrance, hesitating for only a moment to allow her the chance to back out. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she braced herself, kissing the side of his head, and granting him permission with a soft, "please." Her voice turned into a wanton cry as he pushed himself into her. His tongue lapped at her throat, sucking against her skin as a feeble distraction to keep himself from fucking her before she was ready but the way her body was receiving him was making the demon tremble.

"Lu, please, I need you to fuck me," all shyness and mortification was gone and all that remained was the sexual desire and a sense of urgency.

"Do you know what you're asking of me, my dear? Do not underestimate me."

"Lucifer, fuck me or else I will invoke our pact and make you-" the rest of MC's threat was lost, replaced by a sob as Lucifer's restraint snapped and began thrusting wildly into MC. It didn't take long for him to readjust his position, turning them away from the wall. With his hands on her hips, the eldest brother moved her against his thrusts, bouncing her on his cock and slamming back into her. His rhythm would change randomly between fast and shallow to deep thrusts where he'd pull out to the tip and snap his hips to fully sheath himself. He'd felt her muscles constrict around him a few times, keeping a tally of how many orgasms he pulled from her, but he wanted her to make a mess and to make a mess of her.

Bending MC backwards, he continued drilling into her as he held her hips in-front of him. Her voice cried out in a scream as he relentlessly thrusted against that spot and she felt a wave building.

"Lu s-st, wait, I'm, you're gonna make, h-hold on-"

"I know MC, it's okay. Let go."

With Lucifer's words of encouragement, MC felt herself relax, giving in to the impending wave that continued to build. Reaching out, her hands found a shelf to stabilize herself, her mouth open in a silent scream as the dam broke and ecstasy filled her senses. The way she clamped down on his cock had Lucifer's hips stuttering through his own orgasm, filling her with his seed quicker than he had intended; the intensity of her orgasm having coaxed his to follow suit.

As the fog cleared in his mind, Lucifer's fingers twitched and he noticed the array of bruises littering her hips. MC lifted her head to look up at him, but the rest of her body was limp. She smiled sheepishly causing Lucifer to roll his eyes but his lips turned to shape a playful smile and MC giggled as he pulled her up. They winced as he pulled out of her, but she kissed his cheek and he brushed his nose against hers, humming as they basked in their afterglow together.

Lucifer grabbed a blanket to wrap around them and turned to leave the laundry room when he caught sight of the glittery purple dildo still mounted to the lid of the washing machine. He snorted and walked over to it. Having curled into the demon, MC had to turn to see why he'd stopped walking and groaned.

"Don't you dare."

"Hmm?

"You're going to say something really condescending and I don't want to hear it." MC snuggled closer into Lucifer's chest, pulling the blanket over her head in protest.

"I don't know about 'condescending,' but-"

"Lucifer, don't you fuckin do it."

"This had to been Asmo's idea."

"..."

"It just reeks of desperation and wanting to get caught."

"Lucifer!"

"Now if you had been a good human, and come to me with your situation sooner, all of this could have been avoided. But now, there's a big mess to clean up." Having lived with the demon brothers long enough and sitting thru many a famous Lucifer lecture, MC could hear the smirk in his voice. In retaliation, MC pinched the Avatar of Pride's nipple earning her a grunt and a thump on the back of her head. She hissed like a cat from behind the blanket and Lucifer sighed from the absurdity of the whole thing.

"Do you want to go get cleaned up?"

"....yes."

"Do you need me to keep carrying you?"

"...yes."

"Then be a good girl and hold this." MC pulled the blanket away from her head, curiosity having piqued her interest, but groaned when Lucifer handed her the aforementioned dildo. "I don't want the others seeing this in case the room isn't cleaned up by the time they come back from their classes."

Damn him for making perfect, logical sense.

"Besides, I might want to use it on you later."

"...I hate you."

"I know."

[buckyownsmylife]

hold up - andy barber fluff

The one where Andy gets you pregnant but you’re young and haven’t been dating for long.

Warnings:  Age gap (Divorced!Andy w/ College!Reader, so she’s legal), pregnancy, light angst, supportive!Andy, mentions of abortion, fluff, mentions of smutty thoughts so I don’t think I advise minors to read this, AU! where Jacob is alive and in college and Laurie and Andy are divorced, minor medical scare from Andy’s confusion, miscommunication that leads to slightly asshole!Andy but it’s quick A/N: Special thanks to @navybrat817​ and @angrythingstarlight​ for helping me choose this collage. This fic was requested a while back. I ended up focusing more on the fact that the reader was younger than Andy (which wasn’t even part of the request) than on the fact that they hadn’t been dating for long, mostly because in my mind, this was happening in the same universe as this fic. Hope you guys like it and respect the reader’s decision to keep the baby the same way you should respect it if she decided to abort it or give it up for adoption. 

Andy’s P.O.V.

Another day, another case, another headache. Working in law gets more tiring every day, and yet I persisted. Even through a divorce and its subsequent complications, I persisted. Sometimes, I forgot why.

I missed the days I remembered why I got into law in the first place. Those idyllic mornings, when I still thought I could change the world. Now all I wanted to do was to get home and eat my girlfriend’s pussy until she passed out from pleasure.

Just the thought of her sweet cunt had me licking my lips as I drove back to my place, wishing I could stop by hers instead. It still weirded me out that I was now in a relationship with someone that was my son’s age, someone who was still in college, but then I remembered all the moments we shared and was overcome with the realization that I simply didn’t want to let her go.

I knew it was selfish of me, but I believed I deserved at least this good thing in my life after my separation. As long as she wanted me, I wouldn’t let her go. And I was pretty sure that if she decided to leave me, I’d still fight for her to stay.

I loved her. I loved her enough to get through the hazard that was coming clean about our relationship to Jacob. I loved her enough to dream about a future together, even if it looked too far away for now. 

Still, I’d caught myself daydreaming about coming home to her more and more these days. It seemed that the more exhausted I was, the more I wanted her to be waiting for me when I crossed the apartment’s door, and I found myself thinking about buying a ring too many times for someone who had gone through such a lousy divorce and was dating a girl who still had college exams to worry about.

I knew our future together - if there even was one - was still too far, but I couldn’t help but want it now. Like, right now. So the fact that I wouldn’t be able to see her for another week or so while she prepared for finals was the closest thing to hell I could go through right now.

Which only made the sight of her by my apartment’s door that much sweeter. “Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Not even giving her the chance to explain, I pulled her into a needy kiss, desperate to taste her again.

I didn’t even notice that, in my eagerness to have her in my arms once more, I had dropped my briefcase and coat on the floor, opting to pay attention to the girl I held in the middle of the hallway.

I only saw the tracks of tears in her beautiful face when I released her, too. Immediately, my heart started to pound against my chest. Could something bad have happened to her? Was she hurt?

Cradling her face in my hands, I automatically started to wipe away her tears. “What’s going on, sweetheart? Why are you crying?” For whatever reason, my words only served to cause her crying to become more frantic, her sobs breaking out of her chest freely now.

My heart felt heavy at the sight of her that desperate. The urgent need to do something, to help her, but not knowing what could be done made my throat feel like it was closing. So I did the first thing I could come up with - I picked her up, not caring about my personal belongings at all as I managed to open the door and take her to the couch with me. 

��Shh… It’s alright, baby girl. I’m right here with you. Just tell me what happened, I’m sure I can help you somehow.” Again, it seemed like it was the wrong thing to say. My words took her to the verge of a panic attack if her breathing pattern was anything to go by, so I bit my tongue and focused on what I knew I could do at that very moment to help her, even if it was very little. I pulled her even closer to me, so her head was resting on my chest, and softly cradled her while rubbing her arm with one hand, while the other played with her hair. “I love you,” I repeated, over and over again. “You’re okay.”

It took some time, much longer than I hoped for, but at last her sobs started to come in bigger intervals, her breathing becoming deeper again. Slowly, she started to calm down and focus on me, and I waited until she was ready to speak, terrified of making her start crying again by pushing her to share what had caused such a terror.

“I went to the doctor today,” she started, and if at first my mind drew a blank because I had in no way anticipated this to be the start of her explanation, my heart quickly started to pound against my chest when I managed to process what she had said. 

Was she sick? I knew she had been feeling a bit under the weather recently, even throwing up some mornings, but I thought it was a bug that had been going around. She was in college, after all, and those environments were filled with bacteria, just waiting to spread any sort of illness they could provoke.

Was it something serious? For her to be that way, it had to have been. My hands started to sweat at the prospect of losing her. Automatically, I held her tighter, in desperate need to hear more but terrified of what was coming our way.

But she didn’t seem able to say it, whatever it was. Her eyes that had finally connected to mine since she started crying, suddenly fell down to her own hands, and her sniffles warned me that she had started to cry again.

“Y/N…” I begged, covering her hands with mine. “Princess, please, please talk to me. I’m going crazy here, sweetheart. I feel like I might pass out any second now.” Surprisingly, that granted me a giggle, and then, through sniffles and tears, she finally looked up at me again.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I didn’t know how to drop this bomb on Andy. How do you tell your much older boyfriend, who already has a child who’s your exact age, that you’re pregnant with his kid? I was terrified. Terrified that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me anymore, that he would try to force me to get an abortion.

Terrified that I would have to do this alone.

But I had to tell him. Of course, I had. So taking one last deep breath, I squeezed the hand that was holding mine before confessing, in the bluntest possible way, since it was the only one I could come up with right now, “I’m pregnant.”

I don’t know what I was expecting. I hadn’t actually had the time to figure out how to tell him the news - hence my blurting in the simplest possible way - but that also meant I hadn’t really imagined any outcome for this. I had a lot of fears, of course, but no actual expectation. Still, Andy’s reaction managed to catch me by surprise.

At first, there was nothing at all. He just sat there, his huge hands still covering mine as he stared at me with a blank expression in his face. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could even hear it, amidst the silence in the room. Then, out of nowhere, he pounced on me, effectively knocking me back on the couch when he captured my lips with his. 

I couldn’t catch my breath as he enthusiastically devoured me, his hands cradling my face and caging me in as he forced me to make out with him on his sofa, like two teenagers after school. Andy was such a great kisser that it was hard for me not to melt against the soft cushions, instinctively opening my legs further so he could fit perfectly between them.

The way his strong body made me feel when it was covering mine was precisely what had got us in this mess, in the first place.

“Andy…” I tried to speak and push him away, but he was still kissing me desperately, opting for quick pecks around my face since I didn’t let him deepen his kiss again. “Andy!” I admonished when he continued to ignore me, choosing to suck tiny little bruises from my jaw down to my neck, instead. 

“Baby, I’m terrified over here. Can you please stop trying to distract me and tell me what you’re thinking?” That caught his attention. He finally reduced his kisses, slowly going back to his seating position on the couch and bringing me with him, laying me over his lap again.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. It’s just… I’m so fucking relieved. First, I thought you’d break up with me. Then, since you talked about going to the doctor’s, I thought something was wrong with you. I was desperate, baby girl. Desperate. I figured, one way or another, I was going to lose you. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Hearing what was going on through his mind while I struggled to figure out how to explain what was happening made my heart feel heavy with guilt. I guess that, in the state I was in I kind of thought he would have realized what I was going to say, or simply not anticipate any sort of information whatsoever, so to hear that his mind jumped to these worst-case scenarios was heartbreaking to me.

“You’re not gonna lose me,” I assured him, reaching out for his hand and squeezing it in a small show of support. “I’m right here. But we need to figure out how we’re going to do this.” Andy blinked a few times before managing to voice his confusion.

“Do this what?” And then it was my turn to be confused.

“This… kid. What are we gonna do about this?” I watched as his nostrils flared, his grip on me momentaneously hardening, before he managed to get his emotions in check through a long exhale.

“You’re not seriously considering aborting my child, right?” The question - the tone - was like a slap to the face. In all honesty, that option had never even crossed my mind, but the way he was saying it, like I had no say in the matter, killed me inside.

“I’m gonna give you the time to figure out what the hell is wrong with you. I know that this is a pretty overwhelming situation and I just sprung this on you, but that is no excuse to address me in such a manner. Especially if you consider just how much I’m the one who’s really going to have my entire life turned upside down because of this.”

Andy’s P.O.V.

I groaned as I watched her leave the room in the direction of the bathroom, knowing this was her way of letting me know I shouldn’t look for her until I was prepared to apologize. But I was already ready. I knew how terrible my words had sounded, but it came from a place of love and happiness with the situation other than possessiveness. 

So, with that in mind, I rubbed my face before getting up and following her, just in time to find her reentering my bedroom. “I’m sorry, princess. I-I just didn’t know how to react when the thought of you getting an abortion popped into my mind. It’s not like you’re a fucking one night stand or a fling to me, but you’re absolutely right. It’s your body and you should do what makes you comfortable. I just ask you to keep in mind that I would love to have this child with you. I’d support you - I’d support the both of you unconditionally. I know we’ve only been dating for a few months, but I’m serious about you. I’m serious about us. I’d marry you tomorrow if it’s what you need to know how serious I really am about this. And yeah, it’s gonna be hard, but I’m here for you. I’m always gonna be here for you, every step of the way.”

By the time I was done with my speech, she had tears in her eyes again, only this time, I knew what it was about, so I only chuckled. “Come here, sweetheart.” I pulled her to me, hugging her close to my body as I caressed the back of her head. “We’re gonna be okay, one way or another.”

“You sure you’re not just gonna abandon me with a small child?” I knew that her question came from a place of insecurity, but I still couldn’t control myself as a growl escaped my chest, my hands tightening around her, as I reminded her, “You’re mine, baby girl. I’m never gonna leave you. Don’t even think that.”

Slowly, she stopped crying, until only a few sniffles were heard every once in a while. “Okay,” she mumbled in a small voice, clearing the bedroom from what was once a silent atmosphere.

“Okay?”

“Okay, let’s do this. Let’s… Let’s have a baby together.”

A huge smile slowly took over my face as I cradled hers in mine to make sure there was no trace of hesitation in her eyes. “We’re gonna be parents?”

“We’re gonna be parents,” she confirmed, accepting my hug again. “Well, you’re already a parent.” The reminder had me chuckling to myself.

“I can’t wait to tell Jacob about this. He’s going to flip.” The mischievous tone in my voice earned me a playful slap on the shoulder. 

“No teasing him more than necessary, Andrew. He’s already going to be pretty affected by this.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

[tryingmybestpls]

Not A Team: Part 2- New World Order

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: The Reader gives a speech at the opening of Steve’s exhibit and has a talk with Sam following his speech.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THE FALCON AND THE WINTER SOLDIER, talks of death, talks of mental illness, feelings of isolation

Read Part One here

Listen to the playlist inspired by the series here

Y/N felt like coming here today was a mistake.

Her stomach tossed and turned like a stormy sea, threatening to send her breakfast all over Rhodey's shiny shoes. She was second guessing everything. Was her dress nice enough? Rhodey had told her she looked great, but she hadn't worn a dress since Steve's funeral-Oh God, what if he was lying to her? No, he wouldn't lie to her-but what if he felt bad? Jesus, dd her shoes look stupid? Maybe she shouldn't have worn heels-but then she always wore heels with dresses and if she wore flats that would look childish. Did her speech sound coherent? Fuck, what if she messes up. Would they think she was doing it on purpose out of retribution for what Steve did? No, they didn't know what Steve did, what he had done to her. What if-

"Hey, hey. What's wrong? You look like you're going to blow chunks." Rhodey cuts through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter. He puts his hand on her back, "Breathe, Y/N."

"Maybe this a bad idea, Rhodey. I mean they have Sam. I think Sam can handle this." She stumbles over her words, trying to calm herself down. Her heart was racing a hundred miles a minute and she swore her hands were shaking,

"You're going to be okay, but you need to relax. I've read and reread your speech a dozen times. It's perfect." Rhodey tries to soothe her, his hand rubbing her back. Y/N squeezes her eyes shut, working on slowing her breathing. In through her nose and out through her mouth.

"Hey pretty lady, I was wondering where the exhibit is. I'm supposed to be giving a speech there today." A voice calls out, sending Y/N's eyes flying open. She turns on her heels, being greeted by the sight of Sam walking towards them, holding the leather case that carries the shield. Y/N can feel the tension melting out of her shoulders as a smile spreads across her nervous face.

"Rhodey, I think they might be letting anyone speak here today." Y/N teases, the anxiousness slipping away, releasing its hold on her. Rhodey chuckles, shaking his head at his friend's antics. She hadn't seen Sam since the days following Steve's funeral and right now, he's a welcome sight. Sam rests his hand over his heart, feigning hurt as he gets closer.

"You wound me, woman." Sam jokes, smiling right back at her. They embrace, her arms wrapping around his neck as his go around her waist, "I missed you, kid."

"I've missed you too, Sammy." She murmurs back, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. They pull away and Sam smiles at her, the skin around his eyes wrinkling. Rhodey clears his throat, gently touching Y/N's upper arm.

"Hey I need to go talk to some people, alright?" Rhodey announces, almost as if he is asking permission. Y/N just smiles and nods, the smile staying on her face until he walks away from the two.

"How are you feeling, Y/N?" Sam questions, to which Y/N sighs, looking down at her shoes.  She stays quiet for a moment, feeling his eyes on her.

"You want the truth or you want me to tell you what I tell Rhodey?" She replies, looking back at him. Y/N shifts from one foot to another, glad they were far from the crowd that was gathering. He gives her a look, giving her an answer without opening his mouth. She sighs again, twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

"I don't sleep, not really. I get maybe an hour a night if I am lucky. I-The house is filled with boxes that I can't unpack because-" Her voice cracks, her chest rising and falling quickly. She bites the inside of her cheek, forcing herself to not cry, "I thought that leaving the apartment would make him go away, but it didn't."

"Well Steve was always stubborn." Sam responds, making a laugh bubble out of her throat before she could stop it. There was an "I'm sorry" buried in the joke and Y/N knew it, but decided to only focus on the joke.

-

The stage looked daunting.

She forced herself up those steps, the person who had introduced her still had his hand outstretched towards her. Y/N wondered if she could make a run for it. Sure people will be mad at her, but she won't be forcing herself through this. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, the clapping nothing but a ringing in her ears. For a moment, her eyes landed on the giant banner of her husband, a lump forming in her throat. He was watching over her, his face emotionless as his eyes seemingly followed her every step. Cameras flashed as she stood on the stage, striding over to the podium. Once she stood in front of it, a hush fell over the crowd.

Y/N Rogers had saved thousands of lives. She was an Avenger and had faced countless foes. Hell, her wedding had more people in attendance than this event, but she still felt sick to her stomach. Y/N gave them all a smile as she forced herself to calm down, swallowing hard before speaking.

"To say that Steve Rogers was a special man is putting lightly. He was a hero that many of us, myself included, aspired to be one day. And while many of you only knew him as Captain America, I was among the lucky few that got to know him just as Steve Rogers. Now I could stand up here and tell you about every battle he won, how valiantly he fought-but everyone else is going to do that. Hell, you can read about it in the exhibit." Y/N chuckles, blinking away the tears in her eyes as the crowd laughs.

Y/N finds Rhodey and Sam in the crowd, both of them giving her smiles of encouragement. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the diamond on her wedding ring sparkling in the light. It's the first time she's worn it in a while, but it felt almost right to wear it. Once again, she's pretending like Steve didn't leave her. No, Y/N is ignoring that completely, almost blissfully. These people only know Steve as Captain America, as a god-damned American hero. She isn't going to tarnish that, won't ruin his legacy. And regardless of what Steve did to her, she is still in love with him and she wants to talk about the man she fell in love with, not the one that hurt her. Y/N inhales and exhales shakily before continuing.

"Steve was so much more than just Captain America. He was my best friend and my husband. He was the type of man to pick up flowers for you just because. The type of man to tell you that you looked really pretty even though you were covered in dirt and ash. He would let me go on and on about things that didn't even matter, but with the way he paid attention you would think that I was telling him the secrets of the world. Steve loved staying in and having movie marathons-he-he had a list he'd carry with him to write down things he needed to learn about. Before we dated, he would text me randomly, asking me why Jar Jar Binks is hated so much or asking me to explain what emojis are. He never quite got the hang gof the latter." A laugh comes out of Y/N's mouth, the crowd following suit. There was a smile on her face, a warmth spreading in her chest.

"He's the man I'll be in love with until the day I die, but then I'll fall in love all over again because I'll be able to see him again. Steve was the sweetest, kindest man I've ever met and while I will always wish we had more time together, I was lucky to have him as long as I did. We were all lucky to have him." Y/N pauses again, her throat constricting with emotion, "Even though he's gone, Steve lived a long life-a life longer than some of us get and I am happy that so many different facets of his life is going to be explored and shared with so many people. I hope you all enjoy the exhibit. Thank you."

The applause that followed was almost thunderous. Y/N smiled as her heart slammed against her ribcage, cameras flashing as she made her way off the stage. She was glad it was finally over as she moved to stand next to Rhodey and Sam. Sam kissed her cheek before he climbed up the stairs to the stage. Rhodey rubbed her back, telling her quietly that she did great. She just nodded in response, her eyes on her friend, watching as Sam leaned the shield against the plexiglass podium.

"Thank you Y/N for making my job a lot harder." Sam teases, causing everyone to chuckle. Y/N smiles right back at him, shaking her head as her friend carries on, "Steve represented the best in all of us. Courageous, righteous, hopeful. And he mastered poising stoically. "

Sam's a natural at this, standing up there like its nothing. And while Y/N should be focused on the speech, her eyes keep drifting down to the shield at his feet.

"The world has been forever changed. A few months ago, billions of people reappeared after five years away, sending the world into turmoil. We need new heroes. Ones suited for the times we're in. Symbols...are nothing without the women and men that give them meaning. And this thing," Sam chuckles, picking up the shield, "I don't know if there's ever been a greater symbol. But it's more about the man who propped it up and he's gone. So, today we honor Steve's legacy, but also, we look to the future. So thank you, Captain America. But this belongs to you."

Y/N feels sick to her stomach as she watches Sam hand the shield off. Her chest feels tight and she-she can't be here. There's a ringing on her ears and she can't breathe. Y/N pushes through the crowd, not bothering with pleasantries as she does it. A dozen emotions rack her body, causing her hands to start to heat up. She forces it down, deep down as she walks into an empty bathroom, locking the door behind her.

Sam gave away the shield.

He gave it away.

Like it was nothing.

And she wants to scream, wants to cry, but it won't come out. Y/N won't let it, not now when she is still in public. She walks over to the sinks, her hands gripping the counter. Her eyes are rimmed with red, eyes all watery. Her red painted lips press into a thin line as she forces herself to not cry, practically glaring at her reflection. What did her therapist tell her to do? Ah yes, breath in and out. In and out.

This was all too much way too soon. She couldn't handle this. She was being bombarded with memories and emotions already and now Sam giving the shield away? She felt like she was going to lose it. A part of her felt like she was overreacting. overthinking this whole situation. And maybe she was. Y/N did that from time to time. Tony had told her she was an expert of making mountains out of molehills. Maybe Sam just didn't want to be Captain America, didn't want to shoulder that burden. That was understandable. It was a shitty, shitty job-one that Sam didn't ask for. He shouldn't be forced to take on the mantle of Captain America, not when the previous owner had tossed it away so carelessly.

Yet, the bigger part of her was incredibly upset. Angry at the fact that Sam handed off the shield to be shelved in a museum. Overwhelmed by the amount of Steve that was everywhere. Confused over the multitudes of feeling that were swarming her body.

And there was nothing she could do about any of them. She just had to grin and bear it, just like she's been doing since Steve decided he much rather spend an entire lifetime with a woman he knew for a few months. So Y/N collected herself, blinked away her tears, and left the bathroom. Her feet had a mind of their own, carrying her towards the one place she didn't want to be.

The exhibit.

Steve's image is plastered on every single surface, telling the details of every part of his life. Scrawny Steve, bootcamp Steve, darling icon of patriotism during the war Steve, frozen Steve, Battle of Manhattan Steve, cartoon Steve punching Hitler, Steve during Sokovia, Steve on the run. Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve. He covers every single square inch, which makes sense because this is his exhibit. And while Y/N knows she should just turn on her heel and not put herself through it, she throws caution to the wall. She's already incredibly upset, so she might as well pour gallons and gallons of salt and lemon juice into that open wound.  So she forces herself deeper into the exhibit, running straight into the very last man she wants to see at this moment.

"You know I wasn't expecting to find you here." Sam tells her as soon as her foot enters the next room. She keeps her mouth shut, so he adds "Rhodey is looking for you."

"You know on his right sleeve of his suits, right near his wrist, he had my initials stitched. He told me he wanted to carry a piece of me into every mission, into every fight." Y/N announces as she looks at a picture of Steve on a mission, most likely taken by Natasha. Sam sighs, walking over to her, wanting her to see his point of view.

"Look I know you're upset-" He starts, but is immediately cut off by a dry chuckle slipping out of Y/N's mouth as she walks around the room. She wants to lay in to him, wants to give him a piece of her mind.

"Oh I am far past the point of being "just upset", Wilson. It wasn't yours to give away. I-I don't care if you didn't want the mantle, but..." Her angry words trail off once she realizes what part of the exhibit she has reached, her face dropping.

Y/N stops in front of a part of the exhibit labeled 'Two Heroes United'. Her eyes roam over the pictures of her and Steve's wedding and the pictures taken throughout the duration of their relationship, so much more than what the file Rhodey had left detailed. So many smiles, so much happiness filling each and every picture. Her facade is cracking, chipping away as she forces herself to study every picture, studying their faces over and over, trying to see if there was something she had missed, if-if there was something she could have said or done to hold onto him a little longer. If there was something hidden behind his smile, behind his touches, they don't reveal themselves in the photographs.

She's just a footnote in his life, a blurb at the end of a long story. A tool to make him look like an all-American family man. Bucky and Sam had much larger parts of the exhibit dedicated to their roles in Steve's life and who they are outside of being Steve's friends. Y/N-well Y/N gets this, a paragraph saying that she was on the team and then married Steve. She is just haphazardly tacked onto the story of his life, a cute story to make people feel all warm inside. He got his happily ever after, they'll say-or they'll whisper to one another God she was so lucky to have him. They won't ask if she got her happily ever after or if she feels lucky now.

Sam got to hand off the shield, got to throw away the title of Captain America. He gets to keep on living his life after this, but Y/N-Y/N will always be Steve's wife. And it doesn't matter how many people she saved or what she did with her time on earth, she will only be know for being the wife of the man who abandoned her. Y/N's tied to him for eternity, stuck loving a man who decided to love someone else.

And then, just like that, something inside of her just snaps. Her facade fully crumbles, leaving her unable to mask what she's going through.  Y/N's eyes fill up with tears and she's unable to blink them away before they spill over the edge, sending tears rolling down her cheeks. And as she stood there, crying in the middle of the exhibit dedicated to Steven Grant Rogers, a depressing epiphany popped into her mind.

The shield was the last part of Steve that she had that wasn't tainted in some way, a piece of him that she could still bear to see. And Sam had just given it away, leaving her with nothing but memories that would haunt her.

-

"I watched your speech. You did really good, Y/N." Her therapist praises, giving her a soft smile. Y/N nods, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She had decided to start wearing it again, even though her feelings about Steve were still conflicted. While a part of her thought that this meant she was healing, Y/N knew it was more likely tied to the fact that Sam had given up the shield.

"It-It felt good." Y/N replies, shifting in her seat. She had thought it was a subtle movement, but Dr. Raynor gave her a look. After a few months of court-ordered appointments, the therapist knew Y/N all too well and she sure as hell knew when Y/N wasn't telling the truth.

"Something is upsetting you. What happened?" The doctor questions, clicking her pen. Y/N dreaded the noise. It meant a longer session, more bandaids being ripped off in order to force the wounds into the light. It would mean she would return to her home a little colder, a little emptier.

"Nothing happened. It-I had a good day. A good week." Y/N tries to reassure her, even going as far as to give her what she thought was a honest smile. Dr. Raynor held up her pad of paper, making a show of slowly bring the pen down to the paper. Y/N's smile falls and she looks down at her hands, letting out a small sigh.

"He-Sam gave away the shield. He gave it away like it was nothing." The ex-hero announces, feeling like a scolded child. Raynor lowers her pen and paper, settling back into her seat.

"And you feel like he shouldn't have?"

"No. No, Steve-Steve chose him. Steve gave him the shield because he knew that Sam was good, that Sam could handle it. And-And Sam just gave it away." Y/N stammers, picking at a thread that was hanging off her shirt.

"You know, I think that is the first time you have said his name aloud." Raynor mentions, causing Y/N to stop her movements. The thread is caught between her fingers, pulled taut. The doctor continues, "You always refer to Steve as 'he' or 'him' or 'my husband'. You never say his name."

"I don't think I was ready to be around...Steve. Not that much." Y/N tries to shift the focus, shame filling her, her face feeling hot. She knows she has her reasons not to say his name, but she still felt terrible about not being able to say his name.

"But you still spoke at the opening of his exhibit. I'm sure everyone would more than understand why you couldn't. So why did you decide on speaking?" The therapist asks, taking down a couple notes of her pad of paper. Y/N stays silent for a moment, letting go of the thread to start twisting her ring again.

"I-I don't know. Rhodey asked me and I-I guess I thought I could do it. And the speech wasn't bad I just-I wasn't expecting Sam to give away the shield." Y/N responds, her voice soft. She feels so small, sitting here on this charcoal grey couch. Y/N almost felt...stupid for being so angry at Sam. It wasn't his fault at all and as Y/N said everything out loud, she felt like such an asshole.

"If you would've known that Sam wanted to give the shield away, would you have stopped him?" Dr. Raynor replies, leaning forward slightly as she takes a few notes. Y/N feels herself sinking into the couch.

"I don't know. I-I wish he would have just told me so that we could've talked about it." She answers, looking out of the window. Dark grey clouds filled the sky, blocking out a lot of the sunlight that wanted to shine down on the city. Y/N didn't know if she would have actually forced him to keep the shield. That wasn't on him to have hold on to hat chunk of vibranium. It was wrong for Steve to have thrown that all on Sam. What would be the alternative? For her to keep the shield? Y/N highly doubted that the United States government would allow that.

-

Y/N was watering her garden when her phone started to ring in her back pocket. She quickly moves to shut off the water hose before she slips the phone about her pocket. Sam's name and picture appears on her screen, making uneasiness fill her stomach. Y/N exhales through her noise loudly before answering it, holding the phone against her ears.

"Have you seen the news?" Sam asks, not even letting her get a single syllable out.

"No, I've been outside-What's going on, Sam?" Y/N questions, making her way to the house. Something was definitely wrong. Sam never called her unless it was for emergencies. if they did communicate, it was mainly through texting. Her heartbeat started to race, as did her thoughts. A million different scenarios filled her head, each one worse than the last.

"You need to turn on the news right now." Sam replies as she opens the back door, quickly crossing the kitchen and walking into the living room. Her hands are almost shaking as she picks up the remote, turning the television on. Luckily for her, the last thing she had been watching was the news. Unluckily for her, she was greeted with a man holding the shield-Steve's shield, dressed in what looked like an off-brand, shitty version of the Captain America suit.

Anger filled her body. It had been four days tops since Sam handled off the shield and already, they had found their 'new Captain America'. The man in question was smiling smugly in the ill-fitting suit, waving at the camera, holding onto his shield tightly. God, Y/N wanted to beat the shit of the man and every single person who had okayed this. She could only hear bits and pieces of the speech as the news replayed it, but even that bullshit was too much for her to handle. She muted the television, tossing the remote on the couch.

"Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?" Y/N exclaims, her hands getting warm. The Avenger was unable to get to anything articulate as rage filled her. She quickly put the phone on speaker, setting the device down just in case her hands caught flame.

"I know. I know. It's fucking bullshit." Sam replies, sighing. Y/N paced in front of the television, trying to calm herself down before she burned a hole through her rug. On the screen, the fake Cap was talking about something, a saccharine smile spread across his face. Y/N wanted to take that God damn shield and smash his teeth in.

"That asshole has my husband's fucking shield. They-He isn't supposed to be Captain America, okay? It's just not-It's not theirs to give away." Y/N's voice cracks towards the end, tears filling her eyes. While she wasn't Steve's number one fan, she hated that they had already chose someone to take up his title. If Sam wasn't going to be Captain America, then no one should be Captain America.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I wouldn't have given away the shield if I would've known...I'm sorry." Sam murmurs over the phone. Y/N covers her face with her almost glowing hands as she tries to control her breathing, not able to respond to Sam’s apologies. Her sadness and anger quickly shifted into something else. 

Something inside of her switched on, something that she hadn't felt in a long time, not since she was a hero, back when she was an Avenger.

Y/N wanted to go to work.

------

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[zuluc]

anonymous requested: i've been thinking about what to request for the past 3 days and i think i've finally got it. can i ask for kaeya or diluc with a crush that's a depressed bard that always composes sad songs and lyrics? here's the twist, though. their songs and lyrics start to cheer up as the two of them become closer friends!

pairing: diluc x gn! reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i decided to do diluc for this one because I think it’d have a great impact on him as a person as well, and i’m here for more fluff with him 🥰 i made the lyrics myself for the sake of this fic please go easy on me all i know about music is playing the violin/viola also this is long

i changed the prompt a bit if that’s alright!

“Who are you exactly?” Diluc eyes you strangely when you look at him with a blank stare. In one hand you have a notebook and in the other is a lyre. You walked in only moments ago, actively avoiding anyone’s eyes as they knew you weren’t from town. You just wanted to go straight to the owner of the tavern and hope to share what you had in that book of yours.

“A bard,” you say. You look around to see a few of the townspeople staring back while the others cheer happily with each other as if an exciting thing had happened. “Do you have room for a performance?”

Diluc raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. You didn’t appear to have any double meaning or ill intention in your words, rather, your eyes were just void of any glint of mischief he usually saw in a certain person. But to waltz in one day and ask for something like this so casually, you really weren’t from there.

“Sure, just don’t steal anything.” He is skeptical of you as he is of any one else but you didn’t need to know that. You were used to it after all. He directs you to the side of the bar that was supposedly the “performance stage” but it didn’t matter. Anywhere was fine with you.

The townspeople gradually stop their chatter as you quickly tune your lyre, playing a chord once the strings were ready. The tune that escapes into the air effectively silences any remaining voices. The song you were going to start wasn’t one they would usually hear in this city of freedom and apparently cheerfulness.

Your fingers hook at the strings, releasing them with ease as a soulful melody fills the entire tavern. The chord was of the lower register and hummed deeply. Diluc flicks his eyes over to you as he cleans a glass and sees your own eyes are closed. 

When the night has passed

For then will I be free

Will they see me trample dust

Or let me keep my feet

Your book is open and he can see the words you were singing on the pages. It looks like you just started this line of work given how many pages were left in that book, assuming it was your only one as all you came in with were those two items and a small bag of mora. 

He doesn’t notice how much of an effect your song had until he scans over the tavern patreons. Your voice carries through, swaying through the people to where it grazes a piece of their hearts to reminisce forlorn memories. But your words felt soulful as if they had come from your own experiences. A thought passes over his head which causes his heart to pang before quickly shaking it off when he realizes the feeling.

Ah, so you were this type of bard. 

Diluc just thinks he’ll only see you one time so he lets the thought pass through.

Once your song ends the drunk townspeople cheer loudly among themselves. You are taken aback by all the noise but bow politely to them for their reaction. You take your things as they call out for you to do another song and you shake your head.

“Maybe another time,” you say with slight sorrow to your face or words. They accept the answer and continue on their night and when you turn to leave, Diluc can’t stop the words that come out of his mouth. 

“Why not stay for a drink?” You look at him incredulously and he crosses his arms, “Call it payment for your services. They seemed to enjoy it.” You make cautious movement as you make your way to a stool. Diluc sets out an apple cider vinegar drink and you sniff at it. Once you take a sip you notice his face at the corner of your sight. The edge of his lip is slightly quirked up as he sighs while cleaning a glass.

It seems they weren’t the only ones who enjoyed the song.

--

Mondstadt was a city that was very welcoming in comparison to all the other places you spent time at. The people were either unwilling to hear your music or had particular reactions to the pieces you shared. To them, it seemed you didn’t understand that bar music was supposed to be lively and something to dance to. Not something to feel sad about.

But you wanted to share it anyways for your songs are one of the few things in life that you are proud of. One of the few things that have filled the emptiness of yourself that you lost those years ago and maybe, just maybe, sharing them will help you feel in some way. To you, these songs are sorrowful, but they shouldn’t just make people sad. That’s why you were quite surprised at the reactions at Angel’s Share  as opposed to those from other places.

They should elicit emotions of nostalgia. Or maybe, you just hadn’t found the right experience to make them happier.

--

You come back a few nights later and Diluc is working the bar yet again. When he lifts his head, his shoulders sag in relief seeing that it is you. Venti had come by a few times after hearing about you and kept pressing the owner about letting him on the stage as well. 

He was rejected numerous times in tandem with being asked to pay up for his drink tab.

The same book and lyre are still in hand when you head towards Diluc like you did that first night. He places the glass in his hands down and gives you a nod of his head, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” You look around and see that the tavern is even fuller than the last night you performed. It seems word had got around of your songs and they had all been waiting patiently for nights now. That was what an attendee had said to you outside the door anyways. “Do you mind?” You gesture to the stage.

“Go for it,” Any sense of caution that seeped through his words when you met him was near to nonexistent now. Maybe it was the impressions you left on the townspeople and their word of mouth the past few days. A depressing bard in the city of freedom in comparison to the other bards was news, especially when this bar had a wonderful voice to listen to.

The bar quiets again with the numerous greetings and cheers in seeing you up there. You flip open your book and thumb through the pages before settling on one song near the middle. It was a two-parter.

Your fingers pick at the strings lightly, slowly adding pressure thus causing the volume to increase subtly. Diluc shifts in his spot as he tries to focus on the tasks at hand but there really isn’t anything he is going to lose if he wants to listen.

I ran far in the depths of that same night

They chased me off as they truly had hoped

But I lost my way and wandered far

Met and saw numerous things was how I coped

The townspeople are yet again taken by your voice and melody that they had started to move with the music. Diluc decides to abandon his tasks for a little while, now aware how your music allows him to reflect as you intended. 

He sees these events before him. The death of one close to him and the loss of someone beside him whom he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. You stop singing but continue with plucking at the strings that calms the atmosphere. It is solemn and relaxing, almost putting the drunkest of the bunch to sleep but through sheer willpower they stay awake to listen on.

Happy and cheerful those that I have seen

But they were not accepting of me

Sharing the harsh reality of these mysteries

How will one otherwise feel so free?

The song ends and a round of cheers erupts, louder than the first night as there were more people. Diluc snaps out of his thoughts and wordlessly fixes you another drink that you take again, albiet still a bit shyly.

“Your lyrics,” Diluc begins and you tense at the sound of his voice, “From experience I assume?” He is straightforward, you should know this from the gossip around town. There was nothing in it for you to hide anything from him or anyone else so you tell him.

“Yes. That’s what makes good music, does it not?” You take a sip of the beverage. It must be a different one as it is much sweeter than the apple cider vinegar. “When you can relate to the words yourself. I simply want to share that with the people for reasons even I am unsure of.”

Diluc hums and doesn’t look you in the eye for his next words.

“I see. Your voice is quite nice.”

--

You both managed to continue with light chatter that night and he learns that you are staying in Mondstadt for quite a bit. You had no set plans to be in a specific place at any specific time so what was the rush to leave? Among this he is aware of how you speak. There is an ambiguous sorrow in your words from the effect of your past, he believes, that share no optimism but realistic choices that would completely stop the conversation. 

But he was the same so it continues. 

His past is the reason for his own apprehension when speaking with strangers but you were a little different. You outright told him your objective and you were just a bard who wanted to share their experience. 

You learn this of him and it was the first time that you felt light when speaking with someone.

--

“Y/n!” They learn of your name after the third night you show up which is another few nights after the second. Some take your music as a lighthearted joke in contrast to their free lives while others pay close attention to the words and sway with the tune.

You give a small grin in acknowledgement before sitting in the stool in front of Diluc. Throughout the weeks you had gotten to know each other a little better besides the titles of The Sorrowful Bard and Diluc of Mondstadt. You were just y/n and he was Diluc.

You always make a point to talk to him before performing, giving a small insight into the meaning behind your words. Last time replayed the sleepless night and doubts as you wandered Teyvat and the time before that was a retelling of an animal that accompanied you for the last months of its life.

“It knew it had to go yet it decided to follow me, spreading that sadness of loss to me as I was attached.” You said to him that night with dry eyes.

All you tell him is that this song is a little different from your other ones.

He shows more of himself to you, actions he wouldn’t typically show to others if it weren’t for a certain motive or purpose. But you were not threatening nor wanted something from him. Diluc put a bit of trust in you for that.

You never sing more than one song each night because you want them to take in the words of each song carefully. Like that animal, you wanted to share the sadness but allow them to see the great memories.

This night contains your fourteenth or fifteenth song and it is fairly new. You wrote this in the early hours of the morning with a newfound emotion bustling inside your chest. You were scared when waking up, but felt reassured when there was a hint of melancholy there among an unfamiliar emotion.

The tavern goers look at you with hopeful and excited eyes. You feel warmth in your heart as you remember the times a few of them have come up to you telling you that your music has made it easier to sleep. That your music is inspiring; sad, but inspiring.

You play a chord and Diluc raises a brow in hearing a lighter tone. Underlying is that first low tone in your first night, indicating that you plan to keep a sense of your usual. 

Then I stumbled in, seeing the light there

Unexpected welcoming I was greeted by

At first there was nothing then passed a while

Uprising something foreign for me to finally cry

Even if your eyes are trained to the floor, they are in his general direction. You didn’t know what you were feeling and you sure didn’t want to push it. 

He has his entire attention directed at you. 

You pluck higher notes much different from the chords you were accustomed to, messing up in a few that no one seemed to notice. You straighten yourself and look over the entire bar, settling your eyes on him for a bit too long for him to notice.

And so thankful am I

To be able to do such as that

And never is it unwelcomed

The beats in my soul are no longer flat

Your eyes stay staring at him and the cheers drown out. Diluc’s hand raises a few centimeters from the counter but you have already picked up your book and instrument and left.

The drink is untouched as he follows after you, thanks to Charles.

--

You feel like you can’t breathe but there is physically nothing blocking your airway. You assumed it was due to the collection of body heat in the tavern but even the cool night air did nothing to soothe the burning in your face. 

Why did I look at him? Why was he looking back? What does this mean?

“Y/n!” You gasp at the sound of his voice and as you turn around you hope that it was just in your head. Your mouth opens and closes but you can’t speak. you don’t know what to say.

Truthfully, he doesn’t either. 

Diluc didn’t know what to expect when you told him it would be different. He definitely didn’t expect for the song to be about him. He had deducted this reasoning and confirmed it when your eyes met and to you leaving.

In that room he felt the same: his face was warm and his heartbeat picked up when you lingered your gaze on him. He didn’t know what this feeling was either. 

Neither of you are speaking, the breeze brushing through.

“I’m sorry!” You say, bowing your head so he cannot see the tears of confusion, frustration, and something else running down your face.

“Why are you apologizing?” He is near you now and he can feel you jump at his touch on your shoulder. When you don’t push him off he moves his gloved hand to cup your face to lift it up. This is the first time he’s seen you cry. 

Ironic, given your songs. 

Diluc lightly presses his thumb to your cheek to brush off a tear. “Apologizing is for if you’ve done something wrong. You have done nothing of the sort.”

“Are you sure?” You say without hesitation. It is an automatic response, built upon the hardening of your heart and soul through your travels. Diluc chuckles, a small smile on his face.

“I am sure.”

--

You strum lightly, a newfound lightness to you that almost everyone has noticed. Your songs still have that sorrowful reality to them but at the end they have changed. Seeing more of the graceful and fulfilling beauty of life.

Diluc still fixes you drinks after every performance and indulges you in conversation. This time around, however, he leans in closer and places his hand closer to yours.

And you are thankful to feel that emotion.

[an-annyeoing-writer]

vulnerability. – chap. 3.

Story info:

Pair: Byun Baekhyun x Reader

Rating: +18 for mentions of s*x and violence (future chapters)

Genre: angst, smut

Chapter info:

Release date: 29th July 2021

Word count: 4 219

Warnings: none

Vulnerability Masterlist || Fanfiction Masterlist || Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@shesdreaminginoverdose @mybiasdashboard @marimsun @byuns-asscheeks @multi–kpop–fanfics @vunv @making-me-blush @skittlez-area512 @bloopbloopkai @byuns-asscheeks @baekyeonoreo @devotedexolnhottest @mingxia-nikki04 @velvetjongin @ssssssul (won't let me tag you T_T) @nemi-mei @buttercupbbh

Please, always comment on the newest chapter if you wish to be added to/removed from the taglist. I will be also checking the tags, so if you’re shy – feel free to leave a note this way.

Previous (Chap. 2.)

Chap. 3.

The tension that appeared the moment you received the phone call from Baekhyun did not dissolve with time. In fact, the opposite happened – it grew as the time passed, and as Saturday came closer and closer. Finally, once your Friday to Saturday night shift came to an end and you stumbled into your flat around 4 in the morning, you knew that you wouldn’t be able to fall asleep easily. Yet, you forced a whole cup of green tea into yourself in an attempt to soothe your nerves before sleep. Your alarm was set for noon, and you were supposed to meet at 3 PM.

You woke up feeling energized, but you knew this pattern all too well already – the tiredness would come and hit you with its whole power the day after, and you’d spend Sunday sluggish and drained. But that was okay, because Sunday didn’t matter half as much as Saturday did.

You felt a small urge to dress up; even more, actually, you felt a need to pay attention to details rather than looking fine at the first glance. Some common sense hyped up by years of watching other people and reading stories – a thorough shower, shaving, paying attention to not only what you wore outside, but also your undergarments. You lacked things that could be considered “sexy”, but – let’s face it – you didn’t think it mattered much; not after what you’d found out so far. Yet, it would be a shame if your panties had a hole in them. Wearing something neutral, but fresh was your best bet. Every few minutes, you kept reminding yourself – you don’t even know what will happen, you don’t even know if anything will happen at all. There was no reason to think that he’ll want you to undress in the first place, you said it yourself that you’re not ready for sex.

But then, it still helped you gather confidence that you definitely needed at a moment like that. Details allowed one less thing to worry about, and a better ability to focus on others, and so, you made sure the details were worked out well, and that you didn’t overdress, either; a beige shirt and jeans, all wrapped up with sneakers and another knitted cardigan of yours – neutral and polite, maybe a bit school-ish, but these were the things you mostly wore on daily basis, and you felt that going in the other direction – of tight pants, mini-skirts and see-through shirts – would not be appreciated. Your hair was pulled up into a loose bun, nothing like the ones you admired in YT tutorials, but the best you could do on your own. Maybe it was the age difference that made you feel obliged to show respect rather than expose yourself. You trusted your instinct on that, and so far, nothing happened yet to prove it wrong. The weather was starting to get warmer; these days were particularly sunny and dry, so you felt at ease without an extra jacket. It couldn’t get that bad in the evening, and you put faith in your cardigan.

Baekhyun must have thought similarly.

You stood in the bar’s entry, looking up at him for a moment; he leaned back into his usual couch, not aware of your presence just yet. He was wearing a black button-up and jeans as well, something he still looked pretty well put-together in, but not too formal – similar to your own thought process, noticeably.

You inhaled deeply, and took your time to exhale the air – until you felt ready to walk up to him.

“Hi there” he spoke as you approached his couch; as expected, he was there alone today.

“Hi there” you replied with a slight nod and a smile; your voice was quiet, as quiet as it could be without trembling in anticipation.

“You want to drink something before we go?”

You considered it for a second, and then nodded again. Baekhyun moved a bit to the side, encouraging you to join him on the couch, and you took the offer with gratitude.

“Beer? I don’t want to get you drunk, but we may sit here for a bit just to relax.”

“You can tell I need it?”

“Yes. I can tell. Your shoulders are very tense. May I?”

His hand reached to your shoulder and you nodded slightly, a bit unsure what you agreed to just yet.

He suddenly squeezed your muscle, and you whimpered. He kneaded it, and you found the tension dissolving gradually as he went on. Even with only one hand and unfavorable position, he managed to find some of the spots that required touch; that touch was welcome, slight pain coming along with it was desired for the best outcome. You didn’t notice when Baekhyun must have given the bartender some sort of a sign, but the man soon came with a beer and water that he put on the nearby table. That was when Baekhyun’s movement slowly ceased, cautiously letting go of your shoulders. You felt as if you were in a different body, the tension in your body almost gone, just as the one in your mind – the moments of physical interaction were enough to chase some of your worries away.

“You don’t drink?” You reached towards the table – it was closer to you than to him – and took the two glasses, handing him the water and keeping the beer for yourself.

“Not before,” he explained curtly, which you accepted without further questioning.

“So… what are we gonna do?” you asked carefully, sipping the beer through a metal straw, trying to give off a casual vibe despite focusing deeply on what you were about to hear.

“Depends. On how much will you allow me to do.” Baekhyun focused his gaze on something in the crowd; you felt as though it was his habit to avoid a direct gaze in an attempt to sound collected. “I had the idea of showing you some things. Just so you feel it out a little. It’s not final, but it may help the both of us figure out how we feel about it. Like a free trial, you see my point?” You nodded, but didn’t say anything, so after a moment he continued. “I won’t introduce you to everything, and it won’t last as long as usual sessions, either. I’ll talk to you a bit beforehand so we figure out some basic things. It shouldn’t make you uncomfortable. I won’t be trying anything beyond your comfort zone.”

“So, no deals a’la Fifty shades?” you felt silly the moment these words left your mouth. Baekhyun laughed awkwardly.

“No, it won’t be necessary. If you want to draw a comparison to that, I definitely won’t be dumping the whole scheme on you when you don’t even know what it’s like.”

And you won’t fuck me first thing in the plot, you added in your thoughts.

“There are a few things that I may ask you here, so that we have those out of the way,” he spoke; his tone lowered a little. “I need you to tell me if you have any illnesses or old injures that could influence your physical capacity.”

You thought for a bit; the answer was important, but you couldn’t recall much.

“I don’t think there’s anything important.”

“Is there anything unimportant?” His gaze pierced through you as he caught on your wording.

“Uh… I’m taking pills for my thyroid, but it’s nothing very dramatic” you explained. “Nothing else that I know of.”

Baekhyun nodded slowly.

“Fair. Next question, is there anything you’re particularly scared of? Phobias, or things you’re scared of in general, anything overly triggering that you want to avoid at all costs?” You already revealed some of these during your first conversation. But now you felt more at ease, and you thought you could be more detailed without sounding overwhelming.

“I’m… scared of fire. And hate my hair being pulled. I don’t know, why. I can’t explain it. It’s just…”

“It’s alright. You don’t need to explain yourself to me” Baekhyun looked at you with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “You sound like it would stress you out to share. You don’t need to be afraid of that. You don’t owe me anything, keep that in mind. It’s not supposed to feel like an obligation.”

“I-I know.”

“I’m scared of heights, by the way.” You stared at him in confusion. “Hm? Just thought it’s fair to share if you did.”

“Oh.”

“Chill out.” He nudged your glass with his hand to urge you to drink some more of the beer you managed to forget about by then. It was halfway through – you didn’t want to leave the glass with some of it still inside, although it managed to make you feel just a bit sick already.

His own drink was at around the same level too, and as you finished yours, he drank the remaining water in one go as well.

You weren’t the best at handling alcohol, and even the small amounts made you a bit weak in the knees. But you felt sober enough as the two of you finally got up; Baekhyun paid for your drinks and you left the bar.

The weather was nice, as expected. Going out into the sunlight again startled you, somehow; you felt as though a lot of time had already passed. But no, it was still the same afternoon.

It was true that Baekhyun lived nearby. His apartment was in a different direction than your place, though, and you estimated it would take around twenty minutes to get from one place to the other. You knew this area, although not too well – there were only some tenement houses, but no stores or academic buildings that could gain your attention or regular presence. It was on the more expensive side, although not a place a well off office worker wouldn’t afford; just maybe not suitable for a student. The tenement houses were old, but well-kept, and you knew that the apartments were way bigger than in a place like yours.

Opening the door for you, Baekhyun invited you into the dark hallway of his apartment. There were no lights, as every wall had doors to other rooms: two to the left, one at the end of the corridor, and two more to the right, perfectly symmetric.

“Kitchen, my office, bathroom, my bedroom, and the living room,” the man told you, starting from the left. One glance into the living room on the right made you realize just how big the rooms were; enormous, in your honest opinion, with the area of something around a classroom at school, but with ceilings that reached far up, almost twice higher than in your own place. Heavy curtains hung from the top of the tall windows like limp branches of a willow tree, giving the most dramatic effect, and – likely – gathering tons of dust throughout their lifetime. Wooden, carved furniture added to the effect, and you, in all your sincerity, would not dare to ask how much such a set cost, although it would be a lie to say that you weren’t curious. Wooden panels on the floor were already worn and grey, giving you a thought that the interiors were kept in this particular shape for long years before Baekhyun began to reside in there.

“That’s huge,” you only uttered. Your eyes rested on a painting in the middle of a wall on the left side of the room, above an eclectic-green, velvet couch, in front of which was a wooden coffee table, and which gave a perfect sight into an old TV on the side of the room, as it was one of the old-styled, small models that would be hard to look at from the distance between one wall and the other. The painting looked old, but you wondered from the distance, whether it was not just printed in good quality, with all the details of lights, people and nature making it look like a piece of national heritage rather than a small private property. It portrayed a battle scene coming to an end, warriors in shining armor stained with blood resting upon trees and a small pond of pinkish water, at either sunset or sunrise – you weren’t sure.

“You like it?” He caught your stare and followed it, giving himself a few seconds to adore the painting as well, as though he hadn’t looked at it enough despite living here.

“It’s too violent,” you decided after a moment. “But it’s nice to look at.”

“It’s not that violent in itself, I think. But it does conjure the thought of it.”

He left the living room with you still in the doorframe, staying to look at the painting just for a few more seconds. When you turned around, he was entering the kitchen – this room also looked old, but less well kept; it was cleaned up perfectly, however the furniture was shabby, with the surfaces often partly rubbed off and grey; this room simply screamed for renovation. But you felt way more at ease with the fact that it looked similar to yours – the one that was over twenty years old when you moved with and you had no way of changing it without getting in trouble with the landlord. And not like you’d want to do it at all, since you’d move out right after your studies anyway. The only difference was that you tried to make your apartment look a bit warmer with colorful lights and other cheap ornaments here and there, while Baekhyun’s kitchen was just left as it was, as though he gave up on it the moment he moved in.

“Hungry?”

“Not much.” You were still full of the freshly consumed beer.

Out of the fridge, Baekhyun took a bag of half-eaten potato chips. You stared at him with your eyebrow raised as he ate a few of these, and then extended the bag towards you, to which you only shook your head and he put the bag back in the fridge. He caught your look.

“Food moths,” he explained. You slowly nodded in understanding. That’d be a useful tip if you ever got those. The summer was slowly coming; soon, your small apartment would also be filled with bugs, and fruit flies, mosquitos, and sciarids because you kept a few plants in (discovering that sciarids and fruit flies were not the same thing was an important step in achieving perfect harmony in your adulthood).

You sat awkwardly by the table, observing him as he reached for the bag he must have left on the counter before he went to pick you up, and took out leftovers – probably from work – putting them back in the fridge.

“You worked today?” you asked.

“Yeah, just an average thing, a strategic meeting with co-workers. My working hours are not regular, so I didn’t really know I was gonna be out today.”

Once he was done, he sat by the table as well, and you leaned a bit forward, resting your chin on top of your hand.

“You could have postponed it with me, you must be tired,” you said.

“Don’t worry, I’d rather have a chance to relax with you.”

That didn’t sound as innocent as he probably tried to make it, and he looked over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t scare you with the choice of words. You only laughed awkwardly.

“Anyway. Since, as I said, I don’t want to intimidate you, I think we’ll stay in the living room since you seemed content with that,” he spoke casually.

“So, no playroom?” you uttered. Baekhyun choked on the chip in his mouth.

“I don’t own such a place. I just usually use the bedroom. Or the bathroom,” he explained.

“Or the office?” you felt bold enough to suggest, giving him a small smirk.

“No, I assure you the office is for what offices usually are.”

You smiled innocently as Baekhyun stared at you, probably trying to mask sudden shyness.

“Either way,” he cleared his throat. “I told you some about what I want to do, but you haven’t told me if there’s anything you’re interested in trying out. I assume you did see some things, so… Is there anything that you’ve been particularly interested in?”

The harmless way in which he phrased the question absolutely didn’t change the fact that he was, basically, asking what kind of porn you watch.

“I uh… I like watching different things, just out of curiosity, but I’m not really sure if there’s anything I like particularly more than other things… I suppose bondage is the biggest basic.” You tried, you really tried to sound neutral, but your voice trembled a little. “But I’m not really sure, to be honest. I’m quite open-minded, I suppose…” You felt silly; how could you not be able to answer the most basic question – what do you like? But Baekhyun seemed to understand that very well, as he only nodded slowly.

“What about, let’s say, pet play?” You blushed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about? I feel like a lot of young women start from there.” It took you a moment to realize that you, too, were a young woman. “Behavioral training. Humiliation. Regression. A bit of pain, if suitable. Trying out a few things to see how you respond. What do you think?”

“I think it may be fun” you said slowly. “Does it have something to do with the…?” you motioned your neck, hoping he’ll get the cue. You remembered the collars the other people wore – they were the main reason you got interested in the first place, after all. Baekhyun smiled, catching on your observation.

“Sometimes, but not necessarily. It’s just a thing I like. Do you?”

“…I may,” you answered carefully.

“Gotcha. We may try it out. You know, everyone is different. The collars are different too. I usually order them after I’m sure the person’s gonna stay, and when I know what type will be the most suitable for them. I can’t do that for you yet, but I have some spare items.”

“Do you have the ones of people who you’re not with anymore?” you asked, out of pure curiosity.

Baekhyun was silent for a moment.

“I do. But I’d rather not use them. They’re there for memory, not for use.”

“Gotcha. I was just curious,” you quickly explained.

“Do you have a safe-word?” Baekhyun’s gaze rested on you.

“…Not really. Never needed one,” you uttered sheepishly.

“You have anything on your mind?”

“Um, the… thing with lights? The red light, yellow and green?” you proposed carefully.

“That’s a good one. Tell me how you understand them.”

“So, the green one means everything’s alright, the yellow is when we need to slow down, and the red stops the scene,” you recited, as if you were reading from a book.

“That’s right. It’s easy to remember, so we can go with that.” You bit on your lips to prevent yourself from getting too excited with the apparent praise; it wasn’t anything big, of course – but you felt as though it was a praise in itself, being acknowledged for saying something right. “Another thing is that I need you to know a few rules, before we start.” You were all ears. “First, I don’t want you to be reluctant for the fun of it. Whether you want to be a brat later or not, today we’re just trying things out and I don’t want to mistake your attitude with actual discomfort, do you understand?” You nodded slowly, memorizing the words and waiting for him to continue. “Second. No pain that I will impose on you will be a matter of punishment, unless I specify so. If you don’t enjoy it, you need to tell me so. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop right away, unless – of course – you use the safe-word. However, I still expect honesty. During, as well as after the scene, when we review it. Do you understand?” The breaks in between the points gave you enough time to acknowledge the information and encode it in your memory. You nodded once again. “And for the last. Do you trust me?”

The tone made you look up at him, finally focusing on his person rather than the words alone.

“I do,” you finally decided; knowing very well what this answer would lead to.

Baekhyun’s eyes sparkled as he smiled at you warmly.

“Well then, shall we start?”

* * *

You stand in the middle of the room, the cardigan and shoes are off, your feet feel cold against the floor despite socks wrapped around them comfortingly.

Don’t move a finger, you’ve been told, and so, you stare at the painting before you, the warrior in the front staring at you back with contempt you haven’t noticed before.

Your breath trembles in anticipation as you try to hear sounds from other rooms – you do hear some shuffling, but nothing that you can figure out for sure. He must be in his bedroom, you think. What is he preparing? Which tools out of many that you’ve seen on the screen of your phone all these nights that, despite spending perfect eight hours in bed, did not end in getting perfect eight hours of sleep?

Your arm itches, but you fight the urge to scratch it; be obedient, he said.

Steps echo in the corridor and you hold your breath. Your head snaps to the side the moment you hear him enter the room again.

“Eyes down,” he commands without sparing you a glance; you haven’t had enough time to see what he brought, but you instantly obey his words. “Don’t look at me unless I allow you to.” His voice is stern, and it makes your stomach clench nervously. But it’s not a bad sensation, not at all – you grow excited. “Down. On your knees.”

You try to comply, but he still scoffs at your apparent sluggishness. You almost fall over as you let your knees bend and you finally kneel down as well as you can, eyes facing down as well, although you feel awkward as you do so.

“On your toes,” Baekhyun commands; something small but hard hits your heels, startling you, and your head whips around to see a wooden pointing stick. You swallow the gasp of surprise at the sight.

You fix your posture, your toes instantly begin to cramp; that’s uncomfortable, and your toes aren’t too flexible, it seems.

“Straighten your back. You’re slouching.”

The task turns out almost impossible to do, the whole weight lands on your toes and you frown in discomfort.

“Is it necessary…?”

“Look at me.” It feels unnatural to do so now, but you oblige, turning your head to the side where he stands. “What’s wrong?”

“My toes hurt,” you admit quietly. Baekhyun watches you for a moment.

“Straighten them. Kneel as you did before.” You bite your lips and nod, uttering a small thank you that you find suitable enough as the position gets a bit more comfortable. “Back. Straighten.”

You automatically snap back into the position. But it does feel a bit silly – like something your teachers would say, don’t slouch! A laughter comes out at the comparison, but you attempt to stifle it.

Apparently, not well enough.

The pointer hits the nape of your neck; not too hard, but the message gets through.

Baekhyun stands in front of you and, most likely, stares you down – you can’t tell; your gaze is fixated on his lacquered shoes. The shoes then move, kicking the middle of your thighs.

“Spread.”

You feel a bit awkward as you oblige this command; you only glance down to make sure your pants aren’t ripped – you never know. To your relief, they’re not. Then you try to glance forward – but, what’s in front of you, makes you more shy than anything, so you just fix your gaze on his knees instead.

“You’re slouching again.”

“Pets often do,” you note before you manage to bite your tongue; you do remember your conversation from before – wasn’t it what he was aiming for? You thought so at first. But the words were not thought through at all; you just felt a need to say something, anything, just like you’d talk back to a teacher when they became too annoying in their remarks.

You hold your breath as Baekhyun crouches down to your level.

You feel his eyes on you, and you unwittingly tremble under his gaze, forcing yourself to look even lower, not daring to break the rule. The seconds seem to last hours as he doesn’t speak a word – and he doesn’t have to. You feel intimidated.

“You want to be a pet?”

He stands up; he’s right in front of you, if you so much as leaned forward a little bit, your forehead would touch his thigh. You slightly crave the touch; but not enough to move, not when you grow petrified. The question is rhetorical. You wait for him to finish the thought.

“Then I’ll treat you like one.”

Without waiting for your reaction, he steps behind you. You hear shuffling in what had to be a box placed behind your back; you see nothing.

But you hear the harsh, recognizable clink of metal and your stomach drops.

* * *

Please, reblog if you enjoyed, it'll help me a bunch!

Author's note: Hello, have you missed me??? I'm sorry it took so long to upload, it's hard to find time among exams I had in June, and now my (first) new job! The next chapter is already being written, so hopefully, won't take that long. Remember to reblog if you liked, and I'll be really happy to hear what you have to say about this so far. Stay safe!

Next (Chapter 4.)

[wicked-mind]

Soulmates: Chapter Six

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate when you’re about to meet them. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, as usual. Drinking. Nightmares mention violence.

Note: Figured we needed a slightly fluffy chapter before we meet Gemini (;

Bold for Natasha. Italic and Underline for Y/N.

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Previously

After Y/N and Bucky finished their shower together and got dressed, they walked out into the kitchen where Sam and Natasha were sitting. Sam had a scowl on his face towards Bucky, “Man, my room is right next to yours. And the shower echoes.” He hissed out.

Y/N laughs a little and rolls her eyes before Bucky could speak, “Hey, I was ready to go in the med-bay. At least we made it to the shower so everybody didn’t get a show.” She snapped back with a smile as Natasha started dying in laughter.

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, sneaking his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer as he kissed her temple softly. Now, Y/N was his and he wasn’t going to let her go. Their bodies were like one, each other could feel everything the other felt physically and mentally. Bucky got what he always wanted, a deeper connection with someone and nobody was more perfect for him than Y/N. For once he found himself thanking the world and all the things it had done to him just to lead him to Y/N.

Chapter six -

It had been weeks since Y/N had finally given into her soulmate bond with Bucky. There had been no new information on Gemini so they had just been enjoying their time together. They were inseparable. Bucky seemed to constantly be orbiting Y/N like he was her sun, which in a way she was. They would train together, eat together, even moved into one of the apartment suites instead of just Bucky’s bedroom due to Sam complaining about how noisy they were. Anytime Bucky wasn’t around her and he found her, he would push her up against a wall or a counter and kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in years.

Y/N released a part of Bucky that nobody had seen before, not even Steve. Sure, he had known Bucky to be a ladies man in the forties as well as a confident, cocky flirt. But it was like a switch had flipped in Bucky due to having Y/N as a soulmate. He was more social to the other team members, came around more which Steve appreciated. Though, there were other things that had Steve concerned. Y/N had brought out a wild side in Bucky. She had him wrapped around her finger and that concerned Steve. Natasha had spent so much time telling him that Y/N was not to be trusted, but that was before the two had made up and it still made Steve feel uneasy. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Bucky to somehow end up hurt or change who he was to match Y/N. He felt the need to talk to Y/N, try to figure out what was her plans. He hadn’t talked to her very much as she was always either sleeping during the day or keeping Bucky all to herself.

Steve managed to find her one night alone by some miracle. Bucky was usually always following her around so Steve would take this opportunity to talk to Y/N and feel out her intentions. She was sitting outside in a chair at one of the patio tables, her legs resting on the tabletop. Steve took a seat in the chair next to her, folding his arms across his chest.

Y/N looked over towards him, raising an eyebrow at his posture, “Can I help you?” She asks him. There was no rudeness in her voice but there also wasn’t anything positive hidden in her tone.

Steve sighs a little, “We haven’t really met or talked yet. I’m Steve Rogers.” He said told her, watching her carefully. He could see all the things Natasha had told him- Y/N did seem like she lacked emotions at times but it also seemed like she was constantly challenging those around her with the way she talked and looked at others.

“Oh I know, I’ve heard all about you. Mr. Captain America. Mr. Stars and Stripes. And also Bucky’s best friend.” Y/N said, her lips twitching into a small smile towards him, “So, what can I do for you, Cap?”

“I wanted to know more about you, Y/N.” Steve said honestly, “Nat said some things before you two made up. Bucky is my best friend and I want to know your intentions with him.”

Y/N swung her legs off the table and sat up straight in her chair, tapping her fingers against the arms of the chair gently, “Hasn’t anybody ever told you that a bitter woman can be a real bitch?” She asks with a tilt of her head, “I don’t have any intentions. We are enjoying each other.”

Steve nodded slowly at her words, watching her closely to try and tell if there was any hint of lying in her voice but he couldn’t detect any. Either she was a really good liar or she was telling him the truth, “Bucky’s waited his whole life for his soulmate. He’s gone through more trauma than anybody I know. If you’re planning on hurting him in anyway or just using him for fun or a means to an end with your brother, you should reconsider what you’re doing. You can destroy him, Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders at his words, her nose twitching slightly in anger, “You want to know a secret, Mr. Stars and Stripes?” She asks, watching as he nodded before continuing, “I’ve met him before. In 2014. I got a gold care to take out Alexander Pierce. I was outside of his house one night all set up ready to snipe him through the window. I watched him shoot his maid. And Bucky was there, sitting at the table. He looked right at me down the scope of my gun and the way he stared was like there were no emotions in his body. He came after me immediately, got really close to getting me too, but I was able to slip away. I was disguised with a mask so nobody could figure out who I was afterwards. I laid low for years, running in fear that the Winter Soldier was going to come after me and also because my buyers were pissed I wasn’t able to deal with Pierce.”

Steve furrowed his brow at her words, confused, “If you were that close to him, why didn’t either of you get your soulmate tattoos until recently?” He asks.

“Because he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He was the Winter Soldier.” Y/N replied, licking her lips before continuing, “You see, Steve, I could be set on revenge for having to be on the run for a few years because of him. And I am really good at revenge. I know I could ruin him, destroy him as you say. But that is not what I want to do. He is himself again, no longer the man that looked at me with cold, dead eyes. I like him this way and he is my soulmate. If I had any ill will or intentions, he would sense it in an instant.” She stood up, looking down at Steve as he stayed seated, “But if you ever question my intentions with my soulmate again, you and I are going to have a big problem and I have a feeling that’d piss Bucky off more than anything I could do to him.”

As if on queue, Bucky came out of the sliding door to look between Y/N and Steve who seemed to be staring each other down. His brow pulled together in confusion and concern, walking over and placing a hand on Y/N’s waist, “What’s going on? Everything okay?” He asks, looking to Y/N then to Steve. He could feel the anger Y/N felt at this moment directed at Steve and wanted to know why she would be feeling that anger.

Y/N kept her eyes on Steve, “Don’t worry about it, Bucky. We were just having a chat. Just remember what I said about a bitter woman, Steve.” She said before tearing her eyes away from Steve’s and heading back inside to go up to their apartment suite.

Bucky frowned watching her go before looking to Steve, “What happened? Why’s she so mad?” He asks as he sits in the chair Y/N did before.

Steve sighs, running his hand through his blonde hair, “I wanted to figure out more about her. What Natasha said about her concerned me. I’m worried of her intentions with you, Buck.” He said honestly. He never lied to Bucky or kept anything from him. They were best friends after all.

Bucky shook his head at Steve, “I trust her, Steve. I can feel everything she does and I know I can trust her.” He said before letting out a sigh, “You don’t have to trust Y/N. But I do and I know you trust me.”

“Did she tell you that she has met you before?” Steve asks curiously, wondering how much Y/N had told Bucky.

Bucky looked at Steve confused, “That’s impossible. I would’ve remembered her and my tattoo didn’t show up until a few days before I met her.”

Steve looked at Bucky, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his lap, “She says it’s because you weren’t you. It was in 2014, she wore a mask so nobody could identify her. She had a kill order for Pierce.”

Bucky sat back in his chair, processing the information silently. He had managed to piece things together things he had done as the Winter Soldier and he could remember the night he went to Pierce’s house. He had asked if he wanted any milk and it confused him at the time because he was made for orders, not questions. He remembered feeling someone watching him and then he saw the glimmer of a scope rested in the trees. He immediately went into action, chasing the unknown masked person down under Pierce’s orders to kill them but the mystery person had managed to slip away. Bucky gripped the arms of the chair tightly, flinching at the thought of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been able to get away from him. He would’ve killed her without a second thought and he would’ve never found his soulmate. Silently, Bucky stood up and walked back into the facility. He made his way to the elevator and clicked the top floor where the apartment suites were. When Bucky made it back to their shared room, he found Y/N leaning against the counter of the kitchen, drinking a bottle of beer. He walks over to her immediately, taking the glass out of her hand and placing it on the counter behind her before trapping her, placing his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of her, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew me?” He asks, harsher than he intended for it to sound.

Y/N tilts her head at his question, staring into his eyes. She licks her top lip slowly, his breath hitting her face made her shiver, “Because you weren’t you, Bucky. You were the Winter Soldier. And even though my tattoo has all the markings of your past as the Winter Soldier, he isn’t my soulmate. You are.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered over her face at her words, feeling as though his heart slightly dropped at her words. She didn’t hold anything against him from when he was sent to kill her because it wasn’t him. It made him feel relief, as if the universe was telling him that he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. Bucky leans his forehead onto her shoulder, moving his hands to her hips, “Thank you… for not holding it against me.”

Y/N brought one hand up to run through Bucky’s hair, a small smile coming onto her lips, “Like I said, he wasn’t you. Plus I managed to evade the Winter Soldier which I’m pretty proud of.” She says softly to him, “Now take me to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky didn’t need to be asked twice, he picked her up by her waist until her legs wrapped around his and carried her into their shared bedroom, laying her on the bed as he trailed kisses and his hands all over her body.

A scream awoke Y/N from her sleep. She looked around her room slowly, slipping out of her bed. She gripped onto her purple stuffed bunny, walking out of her room and tip-toeing to her parent’s room. She dropped her stuffed animal at the sight, running over and nudging her mother’s arm as if trying to wake her up but it was too late. Then she heard the screams that she knew was her little brother followed by her older sister. Y/N scrambled under the bed, pressing her hand to her mouth as to not make a sound. Tears rolled down her cheeks slowly as she heard whistling and footsteps approach her deceased parent’s room. Her eyes widened as she saw the door open, watching the black shoes cross the floor and around the bed behind her. Then she screamed as she felt hands wrapped around her ankles, pulling her out from under the bed.

“Hello, sister.” His smile was made of pure evil even for only being thirteen years old.

Y/N gazed up to him in complete fear before kicking his knee and scrambling to her feet, running for the stairs to get outside and away from her twin brother. He caught up to quickly though, tripping her down the stairs and watching her land below on her back with a groan. She opened her eyes to look up at him, “Please…”

Her brother smirked down at her, bending his kneels to squat next to her. He pulled out the hunting knife that had been stashed in a sheath connected to his belt, pointing it at her, “It’s nothing personal. It’s just when a family decides you’re nothing to them… Well there’s no point in a family.” He said with a shrug and a smirk before stabbing the knife into Y/N’s stomach making her scream, “Nothing personal though. You’ve always been my favorite but I’m just the twin nobody wanted.” He pulled out the knife, admiring the blood on it for a moment before walking out the front door, leaving it open.

Y/N watched her twin go and when he was out of sight, she pressed her hands to the stab wound on her hip with as much strength as she could manage. Her eyes focused on the window that showed the night sky.

“I’ll see you soon, sis.”

“Wake up, sweetheart, c’mon… Wake up!” Bucky said, laying next to Y/N. He had seen her nightmare in his own dreams and could feel an emotion he hadn’t felt from her before. It was the slightest ounce of fear. He sat up, placing his hands on both of her shoulders and pulling her up against his chest.

Y/N awoke at the movement of her body being pulled to sit against Bucky’s bare chest, looking at him for a moment, “I’m fine, I’m alright.” She said, pulling herself out of the bed and out of his arms. She ran a hand through her hair before pulling on one of Bucky’s t-shirts over her naked body, “I just need some water.” Y/N said looking over to him as he still sat in the bed with the blankets covering his lap. She turned and left the bedroom, walking to the kitchen and grabbing out a glass before filling it with some water and walking out onto the balcony to allow the fresh air and small breeze to calm her down.

Bucky watched her leave the room before letting out a deep breath. He had felt fear from her caused by the nightmare. He had never felt an ounce of fear in her before and it worried him that it seemed like she was closing off from him again because of it. He pulled the blankets off his body and stood up, pulling some new boxers onto his body. He walked out of the bedroom and to the balcony, placing a hand gently on her back, “Please don’t shut me out, Y/N.” He said gently.

Y/N looked over to Bucky, “I’m sorry. Force of habit.” She said and offered a small apologetic smile before leaning her elbows on the bars of the balcony and fixating on the view in front of her. The sun was threatening to peak into the sky, “Did you see it?”

“I did…” Bucky said softly, watching her face intently as he kept his hand on her back, stroking small circles with his finger tips, “I felt your fear. What scared you?”

Y/N let out a deep breath before bringing the glass of water to her lips and taking a small sip of it, “You saw what happened. It was exactly like that night. Except he never said that he’ll see me soon.” She looks over to stare into his eyes, “That was him. Now him. Telling me he’s coming for me.”

Bucky’s brow pulled together at her words. Must’ve been some sort of weird twin telepathy thing for Gemini to be able to get in her head like that, “You’re safe, doll. I won’t let anything happen to you. Your evil twin isn’t going to take you away from me, I just got you.” He said with a small smile, moving his hand on her back lower to her waist. He stepped up behind her, pressing his body against her’s and kissing down the side of her neck until he reached the hem of the shirt, “Now why don’t you go back to bed? I know you hate the sunrise and we didn’t get much sleep.” He said, grinning crookedly, “After I’m done training with Steve, I’ll come find you, alright?”

Y/N smiles at his touch, biting her lip softly and nodding, “Bed sounds nice.” She said, twisting herself in his grasp to face him and tilts her head, “One day maybe we will get on the same sleep schedules.” She chuckles out before placing her palm on his cheek and giving him a kiss then walking past him back to the bedroom. Y/N was still very much a night owl, sleeping late into the afternoon. Luckily, Bucky had figured out she hated the morning due to the fact that after her twin stabbed her, she had to watch the sunrise through the windows while she waited to be found and made sure to shut all the curtains so she didn’t get disturbed.

Y/N woke up sooner than she usually did but still in the afternoon. She showered and got dressed in some jean shorts with a black tank top and one of Bucky’s dark blue flannels. By the time she was done getting ready it was about four in the afternoon. She figured Bucky was off staying occupied while letting her sleep which she appreciated. A soft knock at the door interrupted her. She opened the door to the apartment suite to find Natasha standing there, “What’s up, Nat?”

Natasha smiled, “Bucky may have mentioned you had a rough time.” She said before holding up two bottles of alcohol, “Figured I’d come cheer you up.”

Y/N smiles and opens the door to let her in, “I feel like he knows me so well - sending my person up with alcohol. What do we have?” She asks, following Natasha to sit on the couch.

“We have vodka for me and tequila for you.” Natasha said, sitting next to Y/N and passing her the bottle of tequila, “I figured it was more of a tequila moment than a whiskey moment.”

“I may have a soulmate but you know me better than anyone.” Y/N said, looking at the bottle, “What did he say?”

Natasha sits back in the couch, looking at Y/N, “He said you had the nightmare about your brother. I didn’t know you still had those.”

Y/N looks over at Natasha while twisting the cap off of the tequila, “I don’t.” She told her, “This one was different. It’s like he was using evil twin telepathy or something. He told me he would see me soon.”

“Creepy.” Natasha replied, standing up and going to the kitchen to grab two glasses before returning to sit on the couch and filling up one glass with a shot of vodka, “You should be safe here. We deciphered the gold card you got from Blake, he was hired by Gemini which we already knew but it didn’t have any other information on where to find him.”

Y/N rolls her eyes in annoyance, “Of course it didn’t.” She muttered out, pouring some of the tequila into the glass, “He could be anywhere, waiting for his opportunity. I can’t just sit here locked in the tower like a damsel in distress.”

Natasha nods slowly, “I know. You’ve never been one to just hide, you’ve always faced your problems.” She said, then holds her glass up, “But right now, tonight, we are going to forget about all your problems with your evil twin and talk about other things.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, picking up her glass of tequila and clinking glasses with Natasha before taking a sip, “I see why you brought the tequila now.” She chuckles. Y/N may love whiskey, but tequila was her go to when she wanted to let go and feel happy.

After a few drinks, Y/N and Natasha were sitting on either side of the coffee table on the floor staring intently at each other, having some sort of competition about things that had happened in their lives.

“My soulmate went to space.”

Shot.

“My soulmate was sent to kill me.”

Shot.

“Your soulmate shot me and almost killed me.”

Shot.

“I have an evil twin that is set on kidnapping me after he attempted to murder me.”

Shot.

“I haven’t had sex in years.”

Shot.

“…. Yeah, okay, you win."

Just when Y/N opened her mouth to continue, they were interrupted by Bucky walking inside with eyes flickering between the two before landing on the bottle of tequila, “Oh no, not the tequila.” He groaned out. Y/N with whiskey was fine but Y/N with tequila was a whole different challenge all together.

Nat shrugs and stood up, “That’s my cue to leave.” She said, snatching the bottle of vodka and leaving the apartment suite promptly but not before saying over her shoulder, “Have fun with the tequila monster!”

Y/N looks up at Bucky and raises an eyebrow, “Tequila monster?” She questions, picking up the tequila and pouring herself another shot.

Bucky walks over and tries to grab the glass but Y/N held it away, “You get a little crazy with tequila.” He said, “And a third of the bottle is gone which means you’re going to be extra crazy.”

Y/N quickly drinks the shot of tequila and passed him the empty glass before standing up and grabbing the bottle of tequila by the neck of the bottle and running into the kitchen on the opposite side of the counter with a mischievous grin on her lips. She brings the open bottle of tequila up to her lips, watching Bucky who stood in the living room teasingly.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head at her, “Don’t do it, doll.” He said, starting a slow pace towards her. Y/N loved to test Bucky when she drank tequila which is part of the reason the term ‘tequila monster’ came to light. When he saw her press the bottle to her lips and take a few swallows he quickened his pace over to her, “Oh, you’re in so much trouble now, sweetheart.”

Y/N watched him approach, moving around the opposite side of the kitchen island while teasingly taking a few small sips between laughs. Bucky was giving her that dark eyed look and she was thriving off of it.

Bucky caught her eventually, taking the bottle from her hands and placing it on the counter while his arm secured her to his body. He backed her up until her back hit the fridge, staring down at her with a cocky grin, “You are trouble.”

Y/N smiles up at him, jumping up into his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist, “I know. I’m the best kind of trouble though.” She purred out to him, her fingers stroking through his hair slowly.

Bucky kept that grin on his face, his hands immediately going to hold her up by her thighs when she jumped up onto him. Everything about her drove him wild. He never expected he would have to chase his drunk soulmate around their shared kitchen or that she would bring out a wild side in him, yet here he was with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his arms with her back against the fridge, “You’re the perfect kind of trouble, sweetheart.” He purred out to her before connecting his lips with her’s. He forced his tongue between her lips, groaning as it danced with hers. Bucky takes a step forward, pinning her body against the fridge more roughly so he could feel all of her body against his. He pulls away reluctantly when he heard her whimper, pressing his forehead to her’s, “I love you, Y/N.”

_____________________________________________________________

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[let-the-dream-begin]

A Family of Our Own: Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Read on AO3

By the time Claire and Jamie pulled themselves together and made themselves presentable, the sun was nearly gone, and Jenny was nowhere to be found in the house. Claire was grateful for that; Jamie said he didn’t want to talk to her about anything until he spoke to John first, made sure he was alright. Claire had offered to give them time to talk alone before she joined them, though she secretly thanked the Lord when Jamie turned this down.

“Anything said between John and I is also between you and I. And him, I suppose,” he’d said. “I want ye by my side.”

So they crept silently through the house and up the stairs, lest they alert anyone of their presence. Claire made a note to check in with Brianna later, and she prayed she didn’t have any questions.

They paused outside of the room John had been put up in, and Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand, subconsciously, she thought, as if he needed the strength. She squeezed back and smiled reassuringly, nodding. Breathing deeply, Jamie lifted his free hand, and knocked.

The door opened slowly to reveal a shockingly put together John; not a hair out of place from where it was tied at the nape of his neck, not a wrinkle in his clothing. His red coat was gone, and he wore a finely trimmed waistcoat. The only evidence of anything wrong was his eyes: red rimmed and slightly puffy, like he’d only recently stopped crying.

“Good evening,” he said formally, stiffly. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Can we come in, John?” Jamie said. “I believe there is much to be said.”

John grimaced, as if that was the last thing he was hoping for. “Quite.”

He stepped aside, opening the door wider for the Frasers to step through, then shut it behind him. John moved to the window, sitting on the sill. “I’d been admiring the view before you knocked,” he said. “Such beautiful land.”

Claire sat slowly on the trunk at the foot of the bed, gently pulling on Jamie’s hand to get him to join her.

“I’m...very sorry for my sister’s behavior,” Jamie began. “She was unforgivably rude. Ye dinna deserve that treatment. I welcomed ye into my home, and ye were abused. I’m sorry, a charaid.”

John finally turned his body away from the window and looked at Jamie. “It’s quite alright.”

“It isn’t,” Claire cut in. “I can see how hurt you are. The things she said were deeply hurtful. And she will not be easily forgiven by either of us.”

John pursed his lips. “I...appreciate your caring for my honor.”

“Of course,” Claire said fervently. “We’re friends.”

“Are we?” John challenged gently. “Have you not come here to interrogate my intentions with your husband?”

Claire stiffened a bit and blinked rapidly. “No. Not at all.”

“Claire kens yer intentions,” Jamie cut in.

“I told you that nothing happened,” John said, ignoring Jamie. “I thought you understood.”

“I do,” Claire said quickly. “I believed you. I still do.”

“Then why couldn’t you wipe that disgust off your face the entire time Jamie’s sister made those accusations?”

Claire fought the urge to recoil; this was the first time all day she had seen Lord John anywhere close to angry. His jaw was hard, his mouth a thin line, his blue eyes sharp and piercing. She felt that anger to her core, like a pricking needle.

“I...I didn’t mean…”

“No, of course you didn’t,” he said forgivingly, but his defensive stance remained. “You could hardly be expected to school your features when your suspicions were validated by another person.”

Claire opened her mouth to protest, to insist she’d had no such suspicions...but she’d have been lying. She truly hadn’t noticed her face had changed in the slightest. All she remembered feeling was horror at the scene playing out before her.

“Any...suspicions Claire may have had were borne out of concern for me,” Jamie said. “She doesna think ill of ye, truly.”

“She thinks ill enough of me to think I ever meant you harm.”

Claire swallowed thickly. “That’s...not what I thought.”

John’s eyes darted to her, and she wanted to run away and hide from them.

“I’d only ever thought of you abstractly,” Claire began. “You were just this...idea of a hero who saved my husband and brought a family together. I hadn’t had to confront the reality of you being a real man...with real feelings.” Jamie squeezed her hand, urging her to continue. “Then you were here, looking at my husband like that, speaking fondly of your time together when he was locked away from me...and it was very...difficult to come to terms with.”

John seemed to reign in some of his rage as he nodded. “I understand.”

“It seems...absurd to be jealous of my husband’s jailer…” She rolled her eyes self consciously. “But I suppose that’s what I am. And everything Jenny said about seeing Jamie...return those affections just...had me spiraling.”

“There’s nothing to fear there, my dear,” John said darkly, but not without humor. “He does not return anything but friendship.”

Claire glanced sidelong at Jamie, who was staring at the floor between his feet. John jerked in shock.

“What?” he demanded.

Claire bit her tongue. She would not speak for Jamie on this matter, could not.

But the truth screamed at her, even if Jamie himself hadn’t admitted it to even her.

“You don’t. Do you?”

Jamie clenched his teeth.

“Answer me, damn it. I have asked so little of you. All I am asking is an answer. A true answer.”

Claire was frozen, could not even bring herself to squeeze Jamie’s hand to snap him out of it.

“I can’t,” Jamie finally said. “I’m a married man.”

“That’s not what I asked.” John sat up straighter, palms on his knees. “I said do you. Not can you.”

He didn’t answer.

“Jamie,” Claire whispered hoarsely.

“I’m sorry,” John said tightly. “Forget it. Please.”

“Jamie.”

“No, Claire.” John’s voice went up in pitch, as if in panic. “I don’t…” He shook his head, then ran a hand over his hair. “I don’t want to know.”

A single tear rolled down Claire’s cheek. She supposed that John knew the truth, then, as well.

How wrong was it for Claire to be grateful? She thought perhaps the only reason that Jamie wouldn’t admit the truth to himself was because of his trauma. He’d not do it to spare her; he would at least be truthful to her even if he never acted on his feelings or urges out of fidelity. But, God, what would she do if Jamie had no misgivings about men like John? What would she do if Jamie was staring at him like he wanted to devour him whole?

What would she do if Jamie walked right to the windowsill and kissed him, granted himself something he had long denied himself?

She knew enough to know that this would not affect his love for her. Not at all. But Claire did not think she was capable of sharing Jamie’s heart.

But it felt wrong to be grateful to his trauma.

And either way...perhaps she was already sharing it.

She’d never know.

After a long, terrible silence, John cleared his throat and stood up. “Whisky, anyone?”

Without any answer, he poured three glasses and walked over with two, holding them out to Jamie and Claire.

“We haven’t yet played chess,” John said when neither of them took the glasses right away. “There’s a board right in this room. I admit I’ve never had an audience, but one as lovely as your wife would be most welcome.” Claire allowed a tiny smile, unable to resist his genuine, sweet attempts at returning to normalcy. “What do you say, my friend?”

Only then did Jamie look up, smiling, to Claire’s surprise. He took the glass and stood, taking Claire with him.

“Aye,” Jamie spoke for the first time in a long while, a playful smirk on his face. “Allow me to remind ye how it’s done, Grey.”

——

After a great many games of chess, a great deal of whisky, and a great amount of laughter, Claire sitting on the arm of Jamie’s chair all the while, the Frasers bid John goodnight and stumbled rather drunkenly to their own bedrooms. Jenny and Ian were forgotten for the moment.

“Brianna…” Claire said breathlessly as Jamie kissed her neck against their bedroom door. “I should...check on her…”

“It’s late,” Jamie reasoned, grazing his teeth on her skin. “She’ll be asleep. Mary’ll have seen to it.”

“But she’s...probably frightened…”

“Something we can deal with tomorrow.” He bodily picked her up, and she squeaked, fighting against him until he chucked her onto the bed like a ragdoll.

“You bloody oaf!”

Jamie undressed himself piece by piece, and Claire just lay there, staring at him.

“Care to join me?”

“You threw me here. You can undress me.”

Jamie grunted in annoyed acquiescence, but Claire knew he relished in the act. Though it was probably easier when she was standing, she refused to get up. So he rolled her around like she would a patient in a sick bed until she was naked as he was. Jamie wasted no time; he checked between her legs to be sure she was ready, and she always was, and then he forcefully lifted one of her legs over his shoulder and drove home.

Claire cried out hoarsely, feeling him pierce her deeply in this position. He had her rough and posessively, much opposed to the tender hesitance in the stable earlier in the day. And she met him head on.

“You’re mine,” she panted, clawing at the skin of his arse. “Mine, Jamie Fraser. Do you hear me?”

“Aye,” he choked, kissing his way down her calf until he released her leg and bent over, allowing her to wrap her legs around him, pulling him ever closer. “Yours. Now and forever.”

“Mine.” She twisted her fingers in his hair and tugged roughly, bringing her lips to his for a searing kiss.

Perhaps it was petty of her, perhaps ridiculously insecure. But when Jamie came with no one’s name on his lips but hers, and she with his, she felt an almost primal glow of satisfaction. Jamie panted over her, pressing her into the mattress, barely holding himself up on his elbows. Claire’s chest heaved as well, and she picked up a trembling hand, placing it in the center of his chest, right over his heart.

“Mine,” she whispered, pointedly.

“Aye,” he said hoarsely, closing his hand over hers and bringing it to his lips. “All yours, mo nighean donn.”

——

Jenny was not at breakfast the next morning, whether out of pettiness or shame was anyone’s guess. Ian was, however, and Claire could see his attempt to make normal conversation, to be polite. The children were less uncomfortable than the previous night; they had no idea what had occurred after they’d left the dining room. Brianna was none the wiser, even chatting to John about some of her tools she’d invented for the crop. Claire’s heart warmed to see him smile at her and nod, encourage her gently, his eyes twinkling.

He really was a good man, and she hoped that the horrible mess that last night had been would not prevent any friendship from blooming. Especially, she had to admit, if he meant so much to Jamie.

As Mary MacNab arrived to take the plates and Maggie dutifully stood to help, John rose. “I believe it’s time I take my leave.”

“No time for one final game of chess?” Jamie stood as well.

“Unfortunately not. I’ll be expected.”

“Are ye sure?” A third voice chimed in, and Claire looked over at Ian with shock. “I havena yet seen any proof of yer expertise.”

John’s face slightly resembled that of a codfish, mouth gaping just slightly. He blinked dumbly back and forth at Claire and Jamie, and then Jamie nodded, smiling encouragingly.

“Well, alright,” John said finally. “Perhaps one game.”

And that was how Jenny found her husband, crouched over a chess board with a redcoat, Jamie standing behind John, Claire behind Ian, all the children gathered around the game on the floor as if to listen to their tutor. She hung back, watching quietly in the doorway of the parlor, only Ian and Claire able to see her. She couldn’t meet Claire’s eye.

When Ian conceded, the children groaned in defeat.

“Och, none o’ that,'' Ian waved them off. “He won fair and square. And a damn good game he played.”

“I wanted to see ye beat a redcoat, Da.”

“Jamie.”

“Sorry...Sir.”

“Quite alright,” John said genially, standing up and holding his hand out for Ian to shake. “You put up quite the fight.”

Ian got to his feet and eyed John’s hand like a beaten dog wary of being offered a perfectly good steak. After narrowing his eyes only briefly, he took John’s hand and shook firmly. “I thank ye.”

“Alright, now I really must be going,” John said, and Claire’s heart lightened to see his mood had improved significantly since breakfast. She made a note to thank Ian profusely later. It couldn’t have been easy to put himself out there like that, but it made all the difference, to both John and Jamie.

And to her, she supposed. Only when John turned to leave did John notice Jenny, and he stiffened immediately. Jamie did as well, his countenance darkening.

“I...thank ye fer visiting, My Lord,” Jenny said, her voice smaller than perhaps Claire had ever heard it. “And I...apologize fer my behavior. It was...untoward.”

“The understatement of the century,” Claire said wryly, crossing her arms.

And then, the most unbelievable sight occurred right before her eyes: Jenny Fraser Murray blushed. Deep and crimson and full of shame.

“Aye. Indeed.” She sniffed, staring at the floor. “Ye’re always welcome in this home as a friend to my brother. And my gratitude to ye for bringing him home knows no bounds.”

God, she was practically choking trying to get the words out. But, out they were coming.

“I apologize again, My Lord, for being a puir host.” Jenny curtsied, sniffing again. 

She sounded like a child reciting lines from a poem required of them to memorize, and as she flicked her eyes to Ian, and he nodded in approval, Claire knew this was indeed a script he had given her to memorize.

God bless Ian, truly.

“Thank you, Madam.” John was uncomfortable, that was clear. But he nodded nonetheless “It is appreciated.”

One glance at the children told Claire they were all positively gobsmacked to see their mother so reticent, or her aunt, in Brianna’s case. They’d probably never seen such a thing, and they likely never would again.

“I thank you all for your hospitality.” John bowed genially at Ian, Jenny, and the little ones. “Children. It was most lovely to meet you all. Brianna.” He winked at her, and she bit her lip, smiling down at her feet.

“Claire and I will see you out,” Jamie cut in.

“Farewell.”

“Safe travels, My Lord,” Ian called.

The children all remained silent, as did Jenny, as the three crossed the room to leave, but then one tiny voice piped up:

“Goodbye, Lord John!”

Claire, Jamie, and John turned to see Brianna grinning up at them, the other children glaring at her with popping eyes.

Claire glanced up at John, who looked fit to burst. “Goodbye, Miss Fraser.”

They walked down the hall to the sound of awed whispers from all the children, and then they were outside, and Rabbie was fetching John’s horse from the stables.

“I...hope yer stay wasna altogether unpleasant,” Jamie said sorrowfully. “I truly didna mean fer things to get so...ugly.”

“No,” John said fondly, that twinkle in his eye returning. “Not altogether at all.”

“You are welcome, you know,” Claire said. “I mean, I know you have to come as an agent of the Crown. But just know...we want you here.”

“We?” John cocked a brow.

“Yes. We. At least, Jamie and I.” “And Brianna as well, I think,” Jamie added, smiling crookedly.

“Yes...I think she’s come around.” Claire couldn’t help her own smile.

“Have you come around, Claire?”

Claire blinked back her shock and chuckled nervously. “Well...yes. I think I have. And I’m...sorry I even had to. I didn’t...think I’d have to.”

“It’s alright.” He reached for her hand and squeezed. “Truly.”

Before she could stop herself, Claire closed the distance between them and embraced him tightly. “Thank you,” she whispered fervently. “For everything you’ve done for us.”

“You’re...welcome, my dear.”

Without thinking, Claire kissed his cheek as she pulled away.

Jamie took John’s hand and shook it firmly, and their hands lingered together.

“You shall always have my friendship, John,” Jamie promised. “If that has any value to ye.”

“A very great value, indeed.”

Their hands lingered for just a moment longer, and then John was mounting his horse, and Jamie tucked Claire into his side.

“Until next quarter, my friend,” Claire called, shielding her eyes from the sun.

“Yes, until then.”

And he was gone.

Jenny was helping Mary finish with the breakfast dishes in the kitchen when Jamie and Claire went back inside, and she did not look up from her scrubbing as she entered.

“I ken how much it took for ye to do that,” Jamie said, close enough so Mary did not hear. “And I appreciate it.”

“I did my duty as Mistress of the house,” Jenny said, still scrubbing.

“The least you could do,” Claire said, crossing her arms.

Jenny hummed in agreement, still keeping her eyes down.

“It’s clear enough ye’re ashamed,” Jamie said, less genial now. “But I’ve yet to hear it from yer lips to my ears.”

“Aye, I’m ashamed.” She slammed her current dish into the soapy water, finally looking at them. Her eyes were red-rimmed and sunken in. She must have hardly slept the night before. “I’m mostly ashamed because I meant every word. And I dinna ken how to be sorry for something I meant so much.”

Jamie pursed his lips, nodding. “I see.”

“But,” she went on, sniffling. “It was wrong to treat him that way. And to say such terrible things about my own brother.”

“Aye, it was.”

“I was...scared. Of what I didna understand.” She met Claire’s eye, and Claire fought the urge to nod her agreement. “But...as yer wife said...it’s none of my business.”

“Aye. That’s right.”

“But ye’ve been faithful to Claire, aye?”

“Christ…”

“Because I swear, brother, I’ll serve yer balls for breakfast if ye’ve lain wi’ anyone but yer wife, woman or man.”

“I’m one word away from slapping ye silly again.”

“That’s enough,” Claire cut in. “If you must know, Jamie has sworn to me that he’s been faithful, and I trust his word like I trust my own mind. So that’s that, and you can drop it.”

Jenny nodded curtly, returning to her scrubbing. “Good.”

An awkward silence passed during which Mary MacNab sneezed, and Claire jumped, having forgotten she was even there.

“Is that all?”

Jamie rolled his eyes heavenward, and Claire made a note to praise him on his patience. “Aye.”

“To work wi’ ye then.”

So Jamie left, and Claire stayed behind to help with clean-up.

“D’ye think he’ll truly forgive me?” Jenny stopped scrubbing, looking into Claire’s eyes with genuine desperation that almost made Claire feel sorry for her.

“Eventually,” Claire said. “And so will I. Eventually.”

Jenny averted her eyes shamefully, biting her lip. She nodded, sniffling again, and Claire reached into the soapy water for another rag and began scrubbing another dish

[hoe-doroki]

stay

A response to this ask:

Reader having a silent mental breakdown and trying to hide it with Bakugo and iida!( bakugo’s fine if not iida)

warning: detailed descriptions of panic attack, self-loathing

pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.2k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It seemed stupid to have any kind of mental illness around someone like Bakugou.

Bakugou had experienced near death multiple times by his mid-twenties had had witnessed the worst of the world first hand. His teens had been littered with trauma and, as an adult, his work was constantly throwing him into circumstances where his body, his life was at risk. He did this day in and day out and it wasn’t even a question. He survived it all and, more than that, he let the world think it was easy.

Sometimes just getting out of bed wasn’t easy for you.

You felt like your body was rotting. You’d been on the couch all day and it smelled stale from the layers of lazy sweat you’d gotten on it. From the shower you hadn’t taken and the hair you hadn’t touched. But was it rot from the outside in—something a bit of soap and buffing could slough off—or was it the inside out? Harder to reach, harder to fix. As your brain sent your every thought clenching on your veins, your vital organs, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was both. Rotted from the inside out and the outside in.

You tensed when you heard the door to your shared apartment click, a key being shoved into the lock. Over the cold numbness that you’d felt all day, a shot of panic sprinted through your bloodstream as a million ways to lie popped into your head. You popped off the couch and tried to think of a way to look busy, so you ran to the kitchen and started boiling some water.

This was something Bakugou couldn’t see. The last thing you wanted, the last thing he needed was for you to be another person that he had to save. Another person to risk himself for.

You eyed Bakugou when he came in, shoulders drooped, gait wide. He looked tired, but otherwise normal. You usually tried not to worry yourself with the cuts and scrapes he often showed up with after work, and, so long as he was walking, he usually told you to calm down and that he was fine. You weren’t going to test it today.

“Hi, babe,” you said, putting strained effort into your pitch, your tone, your face. Maybe your voice was too high, maybe the smile spread a bit too wide, so you turned back to the water, watching it heat.

“Hi,” Bakugou greeted as he kicked off his sneakers, voice gravely as it usually was after a shift. He was in civilian clothes now, having showered and changed at the agency. A black tee and jeans that never fit quite right on his narrow hips and tall frame. “What’re you up to?”

“Oh, I, um…” You looked down at the water, still cool enough to stick a finger into. You’d done nothing all day, having skipped out on all your classes with half-assed emails sent to the teachers. The idea of going had been too much to take—for reasons you had no language for—so you’d wallowed on the couch as the hours of the day had bled away. So the question felt like an interrogation about to put a scalpel to your flaws. “I’m just heating some water for tea. Was gonna get started on dinner.”

“What were you gonna make?”

Bakugou was in the kitchen now, coming up behind you to press a kiss against your temple. Your heart rate increased but not in the good way. Not in the way that it should. Instead of flutters it was pounding, smacking against your ribs in a reminder that he was too close, you were too visible—you might explode and you would hurt him.

“I, um, I wasn’t sure,” you said, the answer sending shameful heat to your cheeks. And then you were slapped the other way by how stupid that was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Okay,” Bakugou said, going to the fridge. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Bakugou was always insistent on having a stocked fridge. With his job and you in your master’s program it was hard to find the time to grocery shop, much less eat consistent meals together, but those were the kinds of things that Bakugou prioritized. The things behind his sharp persona and shrinking legacy of reckless anger that made him a good boyfriend. An amazing partner and enviable roommate.

And what did you offer him? Emotional instability without just cause? A nascent—at best—career while he was climbing the pro hero charts every cycle?

Who were you kidding? You hadn’t even gone to class. You hadn’t done any of the work that you needed to do—the evening was a wash now, so you wouldn’t catch up. You were just wasting everyone’s time, like you always did.

“Hey, babe?”

By the tone of his voice, you realized that Bakugou had called you multiple times. Your eyes flicked toward him, but your head felt heavy to lift. “Hmm?” you asked, squeezing every last bit of breath into that hum.

“The water’s boiling.” Bakugou walked over to you, two mugs with teabags slumped at the bottom. He set them on the counter and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you a degree closer to him.

“Oh,” you intoned, pulling away and turning off the fire. Stupid. You were about to grab the pot when Bakugou dropped his hand down to your elbow, giving a firm squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored his gesture to stop and reached for the kettle, putting all of your effort into keeping your hands steady as you poured hissing water in one mug and then the other. Doing something was the only thing keeping you upright as your thoughts continued to swirl in your head poisoning each brain cell you had. You hadn’t done anything worth living for today. But goddamn it, if you couldn’t make these mugs of tea, then you should just walk out of the apartment and let Bakugou be better off without you.

“Woah, woah, what’s happening?”

Bakugou’s hand was on your chin as he pulled your face a little too roughly towards him. Or, rather, it wouldn’t have been rough, if you weren’t resisting it. But you didn’t want him to look you in the eye. See what a failure you were. Someone who couldn’t even overcome a bad emotional day to go to class while he’d been out saving lives—as usual. He took the pot from your white-knuckled grip and set it on the stove.

“Why are you crying?”

Were you? You hurriedly brushed a hand under your eyes and they came away slick, the water hot as the tea you were steeping.

“The…The steam…” you started, prepared to lie and lie and lie until there was nothing real left. The real stuff was too hard to hold. “I think…It just must have irri…tated my eyes.”

Your breathing was running away with you, chest heaving as you pulled away and faced the other direction. Your attempts were thin, too threadbare to hide behind. And your boyfriend wasn’t nearly stupid enough to be fooled, even by your best efforts.

“Babe, tell me what’s wrong,” Bakugou said forcibly, stepping around to face you again.

His eyes were searching for yours, but you held fisted hands to your cheek as you turned away from him. Now you could feel the tears streaming, and you couldn’t turn them off. But what was there to tell him? That you were just a big, stupid idiot who cried for no reason? That watching him become a better man only emphasized how totally shit you were? That when the two of you were on the street together, you knew that people wondered what a guy like him was doing with a person like you?

“I just want you to stop crying,” Bakugou said, and you could hear him getting desperate, only making you feel worse. You were biting your lips closed to keep the sobs from tearing out, but that only made embarrassing little huffs come out your nose, whimpers sneak past the back of your throat.

You couldn’t stop crying. How could you stop it when you didn’t understand what had started it?

“I’ll just,” you hiccupped, backing away from him. “Just give me…I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou said, grabbing your wrist. “Do you want me to go because you want me to go, or because you think you deserve to be alone?”

The words felt like a trick, a riddle from some fairytale turned nightmare intended to make you fail either way. Telling him the truth would trap him in whatever trip wires had you tied in knots right now. But, at the same time, he was expecting the lie. He wasn’t letting you save him from this.

But why? He was always saving people. Why, for once, couldn’t you save him from you?

“Idiot,” Bakugou said, pulling you in to him. You cried harder, the weight of your failure dropping in your well and spilling more tears out of you. “Why would I leave you alone?”

A sob crashed out, breaking through haphazard letters of attempted defense. He needed to go; him seeing you like this only made it worse.

“It, um,” Bakugou’s voice was low, a register that was unfamiliar even to you, unsteady and unrehearsed. “It seems easier to be alone. I know it does. But…you’ve shown me that’s not true, so just. Let me show you the same, okay?”

You could feel how hard he was trying as he pressed you into his chest and you finally, finally let him. The sobbing made you weak in the knees, light in the head, but he held you. He held you up, held you close, and he wasn’t letting go.

Everyone always talked about how crying felt good. About it being a release that helped you process your pain. And maybe that was right when talking about grief or loss, but not this. These tears felt like nothing more than splashing in the masturbatory wallowing hole of your self pity. Embarrassing and stupid.

“Why?” you finally whispered when the sobs subsided a bit, letting you keep enough of the air in to at least say that.

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t say anything, and you wondered if you’d imagined the words. If you were imagining the whole thing and he really had left like you’d wanted. But then you heard breath catch in the back of his throat as he seemed to try and fail to find the words a couple of times.

“In another world,” he finally started. “I’d come home from a day of work fucking exhausted, slump on the couch, eat, and pack it in to go to bed before starting all over the next day. And I’d probably be fine with that. But I’d be a fucking idiot, because coming home to you makes it worth coming home.”

Your breathing was steadying as he talked and you could feel the tears cooling against your cheek, against his wet t-shirt.

“Even with you looking like a damn mess like this,” Bakugou said and you could hear the smile in his voice. His smile, which had grown less rare over time, was always so wide that it made his words sound different. Warmer. They managed to draw a haggard chuckle out of you. “I’m happier just to be around you than convincing myself that being lonely at the top is the best way.”

“I don’t want to drag you down from the top,” you said. “Your company shouldn’t be dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” Bakugou repeated, pulling back to look at you. “Dumbass.”

He pulled you in again, both of his arms around the back of your head so that you were nearly smothered in his chest.

“That’s the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard. You’re fucking incredible, and if that’s why you’re crying today, then you and me have to do some talking.”

Another laugh managed to crawl its way out of you and Bakugou let you pull back to breathe again.

“Are you okay now?”

‘Okay’ felt like such a far ways away. But you were above water again. Somewhere next to okay, distance undetermined.

“I’m surviving,” you decided.

Bakugou looked at you, a couple different things flashing over his eyes, too quickly for you to identify. “Well, that’ll do for now, but we’re not settling for that. Just talk to me. I’m not the best at this, but…I want to be better at it.”

In that moment, you remembered that Bakugou wasn’t perfect either. That he constantly had voices in his head telling him that he wasn’t doing enough and, not only that, he had the public constantly critiquing his attitude, his skills, his work. That, to some degree, this was already something you were going through together.

“I think you’re better at it than you think.”

Bakugou smiled again, this one not so wide, but more private. “You too, he said. Whatever bullshit you’re telling yourself—you’re better than you think.”

He pulled you in close again, and this time you sunk into it, enjoying his warm muscles, the way that his hair was still a little damp from the shower. You weren’t sure if anything had changed—all your problems were still present as they’d ever been. But yet, there was one thing. Now, with Bakugou’s arms like a buttress to your shaky but standing foundation, you, paradoxically, hoped that he would stay and stay and stay.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Fearfull Proposal

Summary: henry plans a romantic proposal... and instead of coming clean about your secret fear of heights and ruining his romantic plan, you put on a brave face... well until your nearing the top of the london eye.

Warnings: fear, fluff, swearing, typos.

You quivered as you rose higher and higher over londons skyline.

Fuck why? Why the fuck had you got in this dangling glass death trap. A faulty few bolts and you'd be plummeting into the fucking thames!

Henry was standing by the window looking out at the glittering lights in awe.

You were standing with your back turned to the houses of Parliament hands clutching the rail eitherside of you knuckles white. Knees knocking.

God this was the stupidest thing you'd ever fucking done! And it was your own fault.

"Babe, look! God big ben looks soo small never been on this at night"

You hummed nodding but continued looking to the floor.

Henry paused when you didnt correct him with the whole 'big ben is the bell' you usually countered

He turned looking back to you and his stomach dropped.

"Babe? Whoa are you okay there love?" He asked frowning as he saw your eyes clenched shut almost as if you were in pain.

You were trembling and pale to the point he fearded youd pass out.

"Here come sit down and relax, i packed some snacks-" he said placing the specially packed bag of snacks and screw top mini wine bottles.

"No! No I'm fine... I will just stay here... By the saftey bar" you said giggling nervously sparing him a glance and patting the metal you were holding onto for dear life..

Henry faltered and really took in your apperance unsure what to do. It wasn't like he could get you off, you had to ride the ride.

"Babe? Are you scared of heights?"

"Nooo dont be sillyeee- OH MY GOD IM GONNA FUCKING DIE!" you began laughing him off then screamed as the ride stopped.

Instantly you ducked crouching whilst wrapping your arms around the silver bar shouting bloody murder.

It didn't help you were bathed in purple light so couldn't see shit.

Henry got up and rushed to you standing over you arms rounding you holding you securly.

"No, no its fine love... shh its fine baby, they said it could stop to let people on poppet remember?" He said quickly rubbing your sides as you cowered trying to fend off the temptation to look at the thames below.

"Y-yeah fuck hen- im sorry i just..." you mewled turning towards him tucking your head to his chest.

"Scared of heights huh? Why didnt you tell me?" He sighed pressing kisses to your head as you whimpered adn the ride began moving once again.

"Because you went to all this trouble, you planned this surprise and i didnt want to ruin it, you were soo excited" you sniffled blinking at him.

"Hey shh you silly girl, you should have told me. You wouldnt have ruined anything you silly sausage" he cooed winding himself around you tighter.

He was actually annoyed at himself, how the fuck had he not known his girlfriend of a year and a half was scared of heights?

He'd suspected a fear of heights when you both went on holiday for your birthday, but youd managed to convince him it was a fear of flying and planes... not heights.

And come to think of it you didnt even like the glass lifts in shopping centers, you ran to the corner and held on eyes locked onto the doors the entire time.

So this was the worst surprize he could of planned for tonight. Things weren't going to plan. Fuck.

"Babe im sorry" he apologised feeling like an asshole.

"No no dont be, this was extremly sweet bear" you said quickly not wantin to make him feel bad fpr your own short commings.

"Theres noting sweet about terrifying you"

"Do... do you want to sit down? Ill hold you the entire time" he offered peaking to the central bench where both your bags sat.

"I.. yes okay i think sitting will be better" you said then yipped as he prompty scooped you up and placed you in his lap securly.

"Im so sorry love, I just wanted to make this special and romantic" he muttered holding you as close as he could letting you know that you were safe and sound.

"It is! It is love really im just a baby" you said quickly grasping his face pulling him closer before peppering his face with kisses.

"Your not a babe we all have our fears" he said quietly pressing his forehead to yours.

"You dont" you sighed closing your eyes trying to ignore the snails pace of the pod that still rose over london.

You could barely feel it, but your fear amplified it.

"Oh but i do~" he replied peering at you, as yur eyes fluttered open.

"Like what?" The questionnescaped before you could think.

"No" he said eyes now becoming worried, anxiety clouding them.

"No?"

"Yes, at the moment thats my biggest fear" he said releasing a shakey breath as you frowned at him not following but didnt dwell as your ees darted to the side seeing the houses

"You see, i was trying to be all romantic and wait untill we got tp the top, but i think you'll be too terrified"

"Henry?" You said leaning back unsure about the serious tone he seemed to take.

"I brought us here, to the spot we met two years ago today..." he said drawing deeper breaths as the reality of what was about to happen hit him.

"Was it really?" You asked surprized he'd remember something like that. Anniversary? Definitely. But the day you first met? And asked for a selfie with a series of embarrassing squeaks? No you didnt think he'd remember.

"Yep. I remember doing a promo and shoot on this thing, then got off and was sat next to you in wagamama"

"And i squeaked for a selfie" you groaned with a small giggle.

"Im glad you did, i scanned instagram for days after- scouring my hashtag trying to find you... i kicked myself for not getting your number~"

"I still cant belive you did that... but im gld you did henry"

"Who'd have thought the nervous little thing trying not to even breath in my direction would be my girlfriend six months down the line"

"Or that we'd last this long?" You quipped at him trying to reme,ber to breath.

"And.. hopefully a lifetime? Despite me dragging you intoyour actual living nightmare- which i promise to never do again! Not even lifts"

You scowled and tilted your head to him not sure if you heard him correctly.

Untill he pulled the small velvet box from his pocket.

"Henry?! What? You cant be serious?"

"Oh but i am love, as much as i want to do this right and drop to one knee i doubt you'll thank me for releasing you?"

"Dont you dare let me go!"

"I think you'll find im trying to do the opposite~" he chuckled opening the box revealing the simple elegant ring three tiny diamonds.

"Im trying to marry you..."

You gasped eyes glazing over as you locked on to the dainty ring pinched between his fingers.

"I love you y/n, and i want to know if you'd become my wife and share your life with me. Will you marry me?"

"Oh god yes of course its a yes henry i love you bear!" You cried throwing your arms around him making him grunt and quickly clench his fist arohnd the ring before he dropped it.

He groaned into you rocking from side to side littering your head with kisses before peeling you away to sit the ring on your finger.

You looked at the glittering stones on your finger weeping. You may have been cursing yourself for getting into this godforsaken glass bauble in the sky.

But now you were he happiest woman alive.

"I love you bear"

"I love you too"

"Would you like some wine? I brough the little cute bottles you like" he offered nodding to the bag of snacks.

"Err lets not push it hun" you whined not sure wine at this altitude was a good idea.

You kept glancing at him still sniffing and giggleing unable to look from your ring for long.

"Gotcha, no wine"

"You look surprized i said yes?"you quipped needing to talk and take your mind off the fact your at the tippity top.

"I made you face one of your nightmares i thought you'd slap me silly when i ask" he scoffed pressing a kiss to your cheek unable to stop.

"Never love... but please never ever get on this thing again okay?" You pleaded fluttering your lashes at him pleading.

"I swear. Never again, but seeing as this is our one and only ride we should take a few selfies? Mark the occasion?" He said standing letting your feet hit the floor but never once did he let go.

"Absolutly, gotta show off my new fiancé" you hummed rising to share another kiss with him not really paying attention to the height you'd now reached, you had more important things to think about. Like sharing the rest of your life with this glorious man.

"My thoughts exactly" he grinned pulling out his phone aiming it at the two of you, makeing sure to have the hand that rested on his chest donning his ring in shot.

[ghost-wonder]

Why Oliver March is My Current Top Suspect for the Leader (Even though I love him)

Buckle your seatbelts kids and get ready for my hot mess of a PH theory. I wasn’t sure where to put this and I just wanted to get my thoughts out. I’m in the last year of my media studies and production degree so I’m putting my 3 years of tears to use and have been brewing this theory since reading 85. Now let me clarify: I adore March, but the more we see, the more suspicious I become (especially with ep. 82 & 85), and while many think this may mean death or something tragic, I’ve been thinking of the possibility it’s something much bigger (Note: lots of speculation here so prepare for a lot of what if’s and I’m only using content up to ep. 85).

My thought process regarding the leader:

The leader is a rather dehumanized villainous entity. With them being anonymous and the reader not having a face to place with the actions, it’s easier for us to take the leader’s actions at face value. We are provided no means of sympathizing or empathizing with their actions and instead, our story follows characters who have been traumatized by said actions.

Therefore, to provide readers with the greatest impact, the leader would likely be a character who up until the discovery of them being the leader, the reader viewed them positively. A character already humanized. Already trusted. And this would be both in terms of how the reader views that character, as well as other characters in the story. It would leave the reader reeling, trying to figure out why such a character would be the leader.

And keep in mind: PH has used this approach with Harvey; the audience liked him for the short time he appeared before being caprisunned and we were shocked to discover his involvement in the PS. Additionally, we’ve had characters dehumanizing and humanizing with Kieran. He’s introduced as this deadly assassin who kills brutally, with the greatest death toll in the PS. But he becomes humanized through his interactions with Lauren, so much so that both the reader and Lauren forget his occupation and are provided a chilling reminder in ep. 43. However, even after those horrible events, as we learn more regarding his character in season 2, we begin to empathize with his actions and reactions (though we don’t condone them). It demonstrates a duality, a mix of light and dark, seemingly contradicting one another. Because people are complicated.

This is also why I can’t buy into the idea that Tristan or Stefan is the leader, in fact, I don’t think either one is even involved with the PS. For Tristan I think he comes off suspicious because A) he’s meant to be a red herring but B) LAUREN’S PARENTS WERE APOSTLES AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE DID NOT KNOW. THEY LEFT AT ODD HOURS OF THE NIGHT ALL THE TIME AND LIKELY GAVE LAUREN TO TRISTAN TO PROTECT HER FROM THAT LIFE. HE PROBABLY THINKS LAUREN IS PS. But anywho. As for Stefan, he’s already been villainized through his treatment of William. The audience doesn’t like him for this reason and is then inherently suspicious of him because they dislike him. So for me, it feels too obvious. (I have an additional theory that he was involved with the print shop shooting, assisting Lizbeth (from what’s alluded in 64 with Lauren’s parents and 68) as chief of police but that’s for another place another time.)

What we know about the leader:

- It’s a he

- Has to be part of the older generation (would have needed to be an adult about 15 years ago)

- Was a member of SD

- Knew Lauren’s parents

- According to Hecate, he is closer and more similar to Lauren than she thinks

So why March? (It’s not just the villain scar)

- His speech to Kym and Will in 60 had me SUS. It felt very contradicting (he acknowledges the flaws in the system while saying they must continue their jobs, which is valid, but his phrasing was still off to me) and generally in any mystery drama if I see a character go on a moral rant of sorts, my sus radar is dialed up to 11. Unfortunately, we don’t know how much of it was true and lies because Lauren wasn’t around but if he is the leader I’d find it so fascinating if everything he said is the truth. The idea that this terrorist does have sound morals would be SO INTERESTING and kind of fitting? The leader having a strong sense of justice or strong morals would make him more similar to Lauren as Hecate said. But more on Hecate later.

- As confirmed by 85, he knew Lauren’s parents. He even says they worked together on cases. Through their work together, did they start to realize the flaws in their system? Was there a case that was just too much? SD formed?

- The death of his daughter does kind of fit the SD timeline. (She died in xx11 the pamphlets are dated xx14 but SD was likely formed slightly before the release of the pamphlets but that's not yet really confirmed). We don’t know how her illness killed her (could be class-related. Like because of their class status perhaps they didn’t have access to the resources that could have saved his daughter? Who knows. He said they did all they could. March is likely middle class similar to Kym but we don’t know for sure. And even if he is middle class we don’t know if this was always the case, like if he was middle class at the time of his daughter’s death.)

- Additionally the death of his wife. The date is blocked and as others have theorized I find it very possible it could have been SD related. But this sentence is chilling: “She fell into the bloody hands of criminals that have been plaguing Ardhalis for too long.” March doesn’t specify these criminals as the PS. So could he mean the royals? (Literally everything he says to Lauren in ep. 85 could have a double meaning and it bugs me so much like he never specifies the criminals he’s referring to. And everything he says sounds like the monologue of a villain who sees themselves as a hero because they haven’t realized how far gone they are. But that’s just me. ) If she died in the print shop shooting could this have been the catalyst to drive March to become the leader and start the PS? Losing your daughter and wife is a lot to take and could drive anyone over the edge. Point is: if any of this speculation is true, it would give March motive for becoming the leader.

- Also March mentioned how Lauren reminds him of his daughter which could then explain why Lauren hasn’t been touched by the PS cause at this point the girl should have been caprisunned a while ago if she wasn’t being protected from the inside.

- To build on that as well, if March is the leader then he has kept an eye on Lauren since she joined the force aka since she would have become problematic for the PS (cause you can argue being the daughter of apostles may not automatically make her a threat since she was a child at the time. But being the daughter of apostles and joining the police force to take down the PS? Now that’s an issue). March says in ep. 60 that Lauren was one of his recruits meaning the leader could have had his eye on her the entirety of her time in the APD. Just something to consider.

- And going back to Hecate's words, he’s more similar to you than you think. March and Lauren share (seemingly) similar morals and additionally he is close to her just as Hecate claimed. Also if any of my speculation regarding the deaths of his wife and daughter are correct it would have put him in a similar position to Lauren, the difference being her enemy is PS and his being the royals (but also as we’re starting to see with Lauren learning more information, I think the royals are starting to become an enemy in her eyes the same way PS is. Again if any of this is correct it just furthers similarities between the two).

- This could then also be the betrayal alluded to in the cards; one of Lauren's mentors has been the leader this whole time. The betrayal is either past or future but March being the leader could count as both. He betrayed her in the past by ordering the death of her parents and may betray her again in the future as he continues to play the role of leader

- Plus this would also mean the leader has been present in the story FROM THE VERY BEGINNING MARCH WAS IN EP 2 HOW WILD WOULD IT BE IF WE’VE KNOWN THE LEADER THIS WHOLE TIME

- AND IMPORTANT NOTE: WHY IS MARCH NOT ONE OF THE PEOPLE LAUREN SUSPECTS DURING EP. 82 YET HE HAS HER BACK SIMILAR TO WILL AND KYM. "LAUREN OPEN YOUR EYES" BLINDEST OF THEM ALL TYPE STUFF. (Also with Lauren being the blindest of all, it led me to believe anyone Lauren is suspicious of, is not the one to betray her. I feel like it would have to be someone so unsuspicious, Lauren doesn’t even think of them. Which can be said of March; we literally have a whole scene in ep. 82 demonstrating how close they are and how a level of trust exists. Yet panels later, it doesn’t even cross her mind that he could betray her).

Now possible flaws in this theory (there are more I’m sure but here’s a few):

-Why voice support for lune and their actions: Lune’s actions have yet to affect the leader (at least to our knowledge) and have technically been helping the leader. The leader views Apostle 7 as an issue so obviously whoever the leader is, they won’t take issue with Lune taking down this problem for them. When first telling Lauren about McTrevor, Kieran said he was surprised he hadn’t been sent by the leader to kill him off yet. And when the 11th precinct received that first Lune letter about him, March was the one to voice that they should follow Lune’s orders. If he’s the leader, this could explain why he wanted to follow Lune’s orders and dispose of McTrevor without PS means. This is a possible explanation anyway.

- Why send moles into the 11th precinct if the leader himself is already there: I boil this down to a matter of seeming less suspicious. Like why possibly risk the exposure of your identity if your organization consists of hundreds of potential puppets who are easily disposable?

-Why place the PH in the 11th precinct if the leader is there: Okay this plays into another theory I have regarding Kieran. We know there are boatloads of parallels between Lauren and Kieran which left me thinking Kieran has had a similar Tim Sake type incident. What I mean by this is that Lauren’s whole deal with Tim Sake was heavily guided by her personal anger and resulted in distrust from her superior, Hermann. I think Kieran had a similar incident with killing that one person without orders, in which his actions were guided by his personal anger and resulted in distrust from his superior, the Leader. So we know from 83 Kierans been overseas for a while (Why? Was there a mission or did the leader need Kieran out of Ardhalis? Both?) and his comment in 64 (“I wonder how much longer his patience will last”), as well as the comments made by Bella and the messenger at various points regarding Kieran following and not following orders (ep 5 and 72-73?), further my thinking that the leader may be SUS of his best player. So what do you do with someone you’re suspicious of: you keep them right where you can see them.

- The one flaw I have yet to work out an explanation for is why order the death of lune? Regardless of who the leader is, this is a question I’ve mulled over since the end of season 1. J’en sais rien mes amis mais on verra.

Closing Thoughts:

Hopefully, this didn’t sound like the ramblings of a sleep-deprived senior (even though that’s exactly what this is haha) and hopefully, it gave you some stuff to consider. Up until this point, I never spent much time contemplating the leader, partly because I didn’t feel like we were far enough in the story to have enough evidence against one person. While much of this is speculation, I still think it’s the soundest case I have for any PH character we’ve met thus far being the leader.

[castiels-majestic-wings]

Sixth Sense - Chapter 2

Paring: Loki x Female!Reader

Word Count: 2,165

Warnings: None

Posted: 31/12/2020

Thor had taken Loki to Odin, in Asgard. But you had managed to convince him to at least ask Odin if you can go in and try to get a read on his- Loki’s aura. You were waiting for his answer. He said he would come back. And if Odin permitted you to see him- read him, maybe even question him. You could find out why Loki did what he did. Maybe even change his view of things, get him to be the brother Thor had once told you about.

You’ve been waiting for a long time. It’s been three weeks since Thor went back to Asgard. You had given up, not expecting him to return. But that’s when you saw the Bifrost on your balcony appear. But it disappeared just as quickly, only there was Thor, making his way inside, his mission included your presence.

“Y/N, it has been a while, my friend.” he extended his arms with a smile before engulfing me in a hug. You pulled away smiling.

“It hasn’t been that long, not even a whole month” You informed.

“Time flows differently in Asgard”

“I know, I know. So how was the trip? What was Loki’s punishment?” Curiosity filled your voice.

“Odin, my father. He sent my brother to prison for eternity.” Your eyes fell, you didn’t know why you felt concerned about him, nor why you felt compassion. You were worried about him. Aura’s can show a lot of things about a person, and his- his was a spiral of emotions. Anger, hatred, fear and betrayal. There was no sign of any positive emotions when you first read him at the tower.

���But, if made it so you can go speak to Loki, but only if you’re under my supervision.”

“You got Odin to agree? How?! I was sure he would decline”

“I explained that you could read him, find out what happened to the brother I once knew.”

“When do you want me to go?”

“As soon as you can, my father doesn’t take lightly to tardiness” A giggle escaped your lips.

“Okay, hold on let me sort some last-minute things and ill be right with you.” You had sorted through the last of your current mission report and packed a few small things in a backpack before making your way back to Thor.

“Okay, I think I’m ready” you readjusted your backpack while walking to the balcony, Thor not far behind.

“You might want to hold on” Giving him a questioning glance you held on to his waist. “Heimdall, bring us up” After a couple of seconds the Bifrost surrounded you. You shut your eyes in fear as you could no longer feel the floor. You slowly opened your eyes, you were scared but glad you did. The Bifrost was beautiful. A rainbow of colour surrounded you before you felt the floor at your feet again. You gathered your surroundings before releasing your grip on Thor. In front of you stood a man, removing his sword from the device in the middle of the room.

“Welcome to Asgard Y/N”

“You know my name? Heimdall knows my name!” You grabbed Thor’s sleeve in excitement.

“Of course, I see everything, I know everything within the nine realms.”

“Everything? Does that mean you see whenever someone is trying to conceive a child?” Your bluntness shocked the men around you. “What? I’m genuinely curious, he’s seen everyone naked!” Heimdall coughed into his fist.

“Uhm, no, I choose not to watch anything deemed inappropriate.” He clarified.

“Okay, that’s calmed me down, I was worried for a minute there.” Heimdall smiled, obviously used to your humour after watching over you for so many years. Thor had escorted you to Odin so he could speak to you personally. To say you were nervous was an understatement. You didn’t know how to hold a conversation with a normal person let alone a king. The walk there seemed long as if you had walked for hours. But in reality, it was only 5 minutes.

As you entered the palace you noticed how tight security was. Something must have happened here before Loki trie to attack us on earth. Thor stopped suddenly causing me to halt next to him. I looked up suddenly frozen, Odin’s presence, it was excruciating.

You knew you couldn’t say anything rash, you couldn’t question him either. You had never met someone with such a powerful presence before. You bowed without a second thought. I kept my position until Thor began to speak.

“Father, this is the Midgardian I informed you of. She holds incredible abilities, she might be the key to helping Loki” Thor's voice was followed by silence.

“And what makes you think she is capable of helping Loki” Odin's voice boomed through the halls, creating an echo that made me flinch.

“She explained her thoughts on his actions without even speaking to him. I believe she will be a great asset”

“I already permitted you to bring her here, she is under your supervision, Thor. If anything were to happen to, her blood is on your hands”

“Yes, Father. Thank you.” Thor bowed his head and turned, signalling me to do the same. Not allowing him to think you were a coward, you spoke.

“Thank you, Your Majesty, I shall try my best to make Loki the son you once knew. Please, put your faith in me. I will not fail!”

“Make sure you do not fail me, otherwise Loki will be the least of your troubles.” Odin snarled, obviously displeased with your presence.

“Yes of course” A small smile made it to your face before you bowed once more, taking your leave. Thor had escorted you to the prisons. Loki’s cell was to the left of the stairway as you entered. Loki had noticed you straight away.

“Brother! My my, what do we have here. The Midgardian that stayed hidden.” The smirk on his face was mischievous, much like his personality. The God of Mischief. You stood in front of his cell with Thor to your right.

“I’m a tactician I stay on the sidelines.” You were unable to place the confidence that took over your body, but you could bite back.

“Oh, but you’re much more than that.” Loki placed his forearm on the forcefield leaning on it. “You’re different, definitely Midgardian, but how you read me without my speaking was glorious.”

“Good so you know why I’m here.” His smirk fell off his face. “Don’t bother trying to hurt me, Thor will not leave my side. You won’t be able to attack me.” He lowered his arm and went to sit down on the bench in the corner. Thor opened the forcefield and entered, holding it open enough for me to walk inside. Loki glared at me, not wanting his deepest secrets revealed, by a Midgardian no less. You went to walk to Loki but was stopped by Thor’s grip on your arm.

“Thor, I’ll be fine, but if you want me to get a deep reading I need to get closer to him” I placed my hand above his as he loosened his grip. He tensed ready for any trick Loki might try. I walked in front of Loki and grabbed a chair to sit face to face.

“There’s a darkness in you that isn’t your own. It’s fighting your goodness, your natural aura.”

“Aura? There is no such thing as being able to see or read auras” Ignoring his comment you continued to stare at him, not losing eye contact.

“The colours, you’re naturally drawn to them. Greens and gold. There’s a hint of blue hidden within the darkness. That colour makes you sad, angry, frustrated. Why do you dislike blue so much” His eyes changed, no longer were they sarcastic and mischievous, but sad and vulnerable.

“Is it your heritage? Thor told me you were adopted. But still, you have a small similarity to Thor’s aura, you’re still Asgardian.” Loki saw in your eyes that you were nothing but truthful. Not one word that left your lips was a lie.

“What? No, that can’t be-”

“Why not?”

“I’m a Frost Giant, Odin stole me from Jotunheim as a Trophy, a way to bargain his way through if the Jotuns attacked once more.”

“Then if frost giants are blue, why aren’t you?”

“Odin altered my appearance when he found- when he took me”

“But you are Asgardian, Odin’s blood flows in your veins”

“I am not his son!”

“No. Not a son, but a relative of some kind.”

“How can you tell? You read auras?” Curiosity filled the room.

“People of the same blood give similar auras.”

“How can you be so sure?” Thor was eager to know, after finding out that Loki wasn’t his brother it broke him. If there was a chance that they were related- even distantly, he would take it.

“I’ve seen it, because of Clint. And his family”

“So Loki isn’t my brother? But a relative?”

“Yes, I can’t say what exactly but I could ask Odin. He might know something about this”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive-” I looked up at Thor. “I must speak to your father, alone.” You urged. Both Thor and Loki looked your direction. Both equally as confused and curious.

“Father does not allow just anyone to be alone with him.”

“I’m not just anyone” A smirk appeared on your face, much like Loki's when he knows- thinks he's won. “Let’s go have a chat with the Allfather” You stood from your position, Thor following before opening the cell. After you exited Loki looked at you curiously, with a hint of hope in his eyes.

“I will find out the Truth for you- even if I can’t tell you myself” He could tell you were sincere. Why would anyone be willing to do this for him? It intrigued him. He kept his gaze on you until he could no longer see your form. As you entered the great hall you had asked Thor to wait outside. Odin looked at you curiously seeing you make your way towards him alone.

“Odin, I must speak with you privately.”

“Privately? No one shall speak to me privately unless its Frigga or Thor”

“It’s about Loki’s origin. Unless you want the guards to know his birth mother, I suggest we have our privacy.” Odin’s eye widened, you hit a nerve. He signalled the guards to leave, and it stayed silent until he knew no one could hear us.

“What do you know Midguardian?”

“I know that Loki- even if his father is a frost giant, his mother was Asgardian. How she is related to you I’m not sure. But its royal blood- your blood.”

“How did you find this information?”

“Thor told you that I read auras correct?” Odin nodded, deeming the silence necessary. “Well families, that share the same blood have similar auras. And his aura- his Asgardian aura, is similar to Thor’s and your own. What can you tell me?”

“Who his mother is doesn’t matter”

“I assume she’s either dangerous or dead. Or both.” Odin seemed uneasy.

“I won’t tell either of them. Any information you tell me right now I won’t tell Thor or Loki”

“And why my dear, should I trust you”

“If you want me to clear his darkness, I must know everything”

“Not a word, to anyone other than myself”

“You have my word.” He sighed, composing himself. He hadn’t spoken about her in millennia, nor had he forgotten her.

“My daughter, Hela”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yes, My firstborn”

“So Loki he’s- he’s your grandson?”

“Yes.”

“That’s why you won’t kill him? He might be frost giant, but he is still of your blood” Odin was breaking. His shell was slowly opening.

“Does Frigga know?”

“No”

“How could you hide that from her? She- Her daughter has a son!”

“With a frost giant! She was already trying to overthrow the kingdom. Working with the frost giants- then she became pregnant with Lafeys child” He growled, angered by the memory.

“I see. Now that I know, I should be able to get a better read of your grandson.”

“You must not tell anyone of what we just spoke”

“I gave my word. I shall not tell a soul.”

“Leave” He ordered. And you had no reason to decline. You left the grand hall telling the guards that they could return to their post. Your figure leaned against the wall, your nerves catching up, making your breath heavy and unstable. You slid to the ground, seeing Thor approach you.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

“Yes- My nerves just caught up with me that’s all. Plus, your father is a scary man” A giggle escaped your lips making Thor smile, happy to know that you were okay. How were you going to keep this secret you didn’t know. But you had to- you gave your word. And you’ll be damned if you broke it.

Taglist: @lovermrjokerr @lucywrites02 @lord-byron

[drprettyboyspence]

You’re a Hero, Spencer Reid

Dr. Spencer Reid/reader 

Summary: Late one night Spencer comes home from an especially difficult case. His girlfriend Y/n persuades him to talk about it. Inspired by the JJ/Will episode “Sick Day” (Season 12 Episode 2) This takes place during Season 15. 

words: 4.9k

warnings: mentions of violence, mental illness (basically the amount of violence in a regular cm episode), angst, very very light swearing,  nothing else to my knowledge! 

a/n: I honestly love that JJ and Will scene so I decided to right one about Spencer. This made up case took we way too long to come up with and honestly I know way too much about lobotomies now lol, but I hope you enjoy!! :) 

It’s 12:30 am, Spencer Reid trudges up the stairs to his second floor apartment which he shares with his girlfriend of 5 years, Y/n Y/l/n. His body on the verge of collapsing but his mind hyped up on adrenaline, Spencer pulls his key out of his pocket before unlocking the door, excited to finally be home after an energy-draining case. He knows he should sleep, the team very rarely gets much sleep during a case and the last one had been short but intense, so it’s been about 48 hours since Spencer has slept if he’s being truly honest. Spencer feels as if he’s in a trance, he’s exhausted but he just knows he won’t be able to sleep if he tries. His exhaustion leads him to crash into a chair near the table, causing it to scrape against the floor loudly. Damn it Spencer thinks, hoping he didn’t wake up his girlfriend but knowing he probably isn’t that lucky. 

“Baby, you’re finally home! I missed you so much!” Y/n says, appearing out of the shadowy hallway, obviously having just woken up. She gives Spencer a hug and notices the way he holds on to her extra tightly, like he does when he’s feeling stressed or overwhelmed. 

“I missed you too Y/n, so much.” Spencer whispers, still enveloping her in a tight hug. The last case had been harder on him than he’s willing to admit, but holding Y/n close to him makes him feel safe, he can’t lose her if he just never lets go, right? 

“Are you okay Spence?” Y/n asks after Spencer finally lets her go. She knows the tells, she may not be an FBI profiler but she can tell when Spencer isn’t okay, and right now is unfortunately one of those times. She can see the way he holds her just the smallest bit too tight, she can see his eyes, droopy from exhaustion but darting around the room at the same time, still hyped up on the adrenaline from the case, and the eye circles that have become a signature look for her boyfriend are even darker than usual, showing he’s been without sleep for likely more than a day. 

“I’m fine Y/n, really, you know how the job is, it's never easy.” Spencer replies, in a manner that shows Y/n he wants to talk about it, but he doesn’t know how to ask and doesn’t want to be a bother. 

“Are you sure Spence? We can talk about it if you want to-“

“I said I’m fine Y/n! Please drop it!” Spencer snaps back at Y/n, regret immediately flushing over his face. He doesn’t yell at her often, and they hardly ever fight, he says he’s seen too many couples separated by tragedy to waste time on silly arguments and quarrels. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to snap at you, I think I’m just high-strung and exhausted.” 

“You can’t keep it in Spencer, it will all build up inside and stay with you, you know that. We need to talk about it if it's weighing down on you this heavily, I’ll put the coffee on, it looks like we won’t be sleeping for a while.” Y/n says warmly, walking across the kitchen to switch on the coffee machine. “Okay Spence, start at the beginning…” 

40 hours earlier 

“All I’m saying JJ is that you aren’t even giving science-fiction a chance, its not all-”

“Spence I honestly don’t care, I refused to go to comic-con with you back in the day and I still refuse now, but you can take the boys, they’d love to go.” JJ and Spencer abruptly finish their conversation as they walk into the round table room and see the rest of the team staring back at them with solemn looks on their faces. 

“Let’s get started please.” Emily says promptly as JJ and Spencer take their respective seats at the table, everyone focusing their attention on Garcia.  

“Alright my crime-solving friends today’s devilishness comes to us from the one, the only, sin city itself, Las Vegas, Nevada.” Long-time members of the team glance sympathetically at Reid, knowing how difficult it can be for him to go home, especially now that his mother has been moved closer to Virginia. “Those pictures on your tablet now, they are of Dolores Smith, the fifth victim in a series of what appears to be lobotomies gone wrong.” The team winces, remembering the last time lobotomies had come up in a BAU case. 

“The fifth victim? Why weren’t we called in earlier, lobotomies aren’t exactly a common occurrence, even in Las Vegas.” Rossi asks. 

“This unsub has been driving his victims out into the desert, even crossing state lines, victim number two, Susan Atkins, she was found in Utah, almost 400 miles away. They simply didn’t put it together until the last two victims were found in Las Vegas.”

“Garcia, anything connecting the victims, they seem to be of different sexes and ages.” JJ asks. 

“Yes, this is where it gets tricky, all five victims were schizophrenic patients at Bennington Sanitarium.” It was like a chill went through the room.

“So they were all patients at a mental hospital?” Luke says, clearly confused about the strange energy currently in the room. 

“Tell them Spence” Emily urges. 

“Bennington Sanitarium isn’t just any mental hospital, it's the mental hospital my mom was in.” 

The coffee machine beeps, interrupting Spencer’s telling of the story, he moves to pour the cups. Y/n places her hand on his knee before he can move out of the chair.

“Sweetheart, let me do it, you just sit here and try to relax, you’ve been through enough, the least I can do is a pour a damn cup of coffee for you.” Y/n picks out Spencer’s favorite mug, a Doctor Who one she had bought him for the first Christmas they spent together. They both inhale deeply over the cups of steaming liquid, as good as gold on a late night like this, the 1:20 am flashing over the stove only showing as a reminder that this night won’t be ending any time soon. “Alright, continue.” 

36 hours earlier

“So here’s what we know. All five victims had recently been released from Bennington Sanitarium, they were schizophrenic, having been residents of the hospital for ten to twelve years.” Luke starts the discussion as the jet begins its descent into Las Vegas. 

“Why were they released?” Spencer responds. 

“Garcia, any information you can give us?” Tara asks the computer screen where Garcia’s face pops up. 

“My friends, unluckily because of the discreet nature of mental health records, the mistress of all things technological is having a little bit of trouble narrowing in on the information you search for, but from what I can see, all five victims were taken out of the hospital after responding well to medication, I haven’t gotten to those records yet but I will hit you back as soon as I hear anything, peace out.” 

“You okay Reid?” Emily asks Spencer as quietly as she can, knowing that this case is surely striking a nerve with him, all these victims sharing a very big part of their life with his mother, she probably knew some of them personally. 

“I just have a bad feeling about this, and I tend to listen to those feelings very carefully. Let’s finish this one quick and get back to Quantico.”

“You heard the kid, let’s make quick work of this case and put this bastard away before he can even think about taking another victim.” Rossi states, earning nods from the rest of the time. 

“I hate to burst your bubbles my friends, but a sixth victim has just been found in Las Vegas once again, 63 year old Barbara Sullivan.” Garcia popped in. 

“Alright change of plans everyone, Matt go to the 5th dump site, Tara and JJ, you girls will go to the most recent dump site, Luke and Rossi will go the morgue, try to get any information you can about the lobotomies, Reid and I, we’ll go to Bennington and get insight into why each of these victims were released and what medicines they were on at the time. 

“Sorry to interrupt, but why was Garcia having such a hard time finding the medical records, isn’t that type of thing usually a breeze for her?”  Y/n asks. She’d become quite close to Garcia in the years she and Spencer had been together and there was nothing that girl couldn’t do. 

“We were having trouble with that too to be honest, mental health records are usually rather secretive, but nothing a hacker like Garcia wouldn’t be able to crack in an instant. Can I have another cup of coffee baby?” 

“Of course Spence, anything you need.” Y/n say before filling up another coffee, glad he’s finally relaxed enough to talk freely about whatever happened on this case that was so clearly affecting him. 

34 hours earlier 

“Dr. Reid, good to see you again, I wish we didn’t have to meet under these circumstances though.” The main doctor at Bennington says, having known Spencer over the years Diana had spent at the hospital. 

“Dr., hello. This is BAU Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, we want to ask you some questions about the victims if that would be possible. I know it’s-”

“Excuse me Dr.! Oh I’m sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt! Wait, are you Dr. Spencer Reid of the Behavioral Analysis Unit? I’m a huge fan of your work. Work, oh god you must be here about the recent murders, tragic aren’t they?” A rather hyper man interrupts Spencer. Spencer awkwardly and reluctantly shakes the hand of the stranger, both him and Emily puzzled about this strange interruption. 

“Mr. Robbins, if you would, please leave us alone as the federal agents and I have some important details to discuss. Actually, you may go home for the day, your services are no longer needed, see you tomorrow.” The high-strung man nods eagerly before waving once more and leaving. “I’m so sorry about that Dr. Reid, that would be the new data collector and organizer, Mr. Robbins, a bit hyper for my taste, but that man is a wizard with anything technological.” Just as Emily is about to resume questions about the victims, Garcia calls. 

“What’s up Garcia? Anything you can tell us?” 

“Emily, my sweet, sadly I come once again bearing bad news. A woman has just been reported missing, 54 year old Dana Reeley, schizophrenic, reported missing by her son 20 minutes ago, says he left the house for no longer than 20 minutes, came back to an empty house no signs of struggle.” 

“Is it possible his mother is confused, left the house on her own?” Spencer asks, remembering times his mother had been so confused that she went off on her own. 

“Definitely not, the doors had protective covers, the mother couldn’t get out by herself, it had happened before. By the way, I’m still having an extreme amount of trouble trying to figure out why the victims were taken out of the hospital.” 

“Oh I can help you with that, each of the victims were taken out of this establishment due to the opinions of each of their respective children that they would be better taken care of under their own roofs.” 

“Well, uh- thank you unknown male voice that I’m assuming is the Dr. running Bennington Sanitarium, that’s helpful information.” 

“Dr. thank you for your time, but it seems we should we getting to the police station.” Emily says, realizing that this probably isn’t a good place for Spencer to be, and seeing his face becoming increasingly distressed due to the implications of the information the Dr. had just given them, if they’re going to need him to use his brain to solve this case they need to get out of here. 

“Woah wait one second Spencer, all of the victims were patients at the same hospital that your mom spent years at, they were all schizophrenic, and they were all taken out of the hospital by their children shortly before their murder, that’s a-“

“Hell of a coincidence, I know, and you know me, there’s no such thing as coincidences. This was weird though, like a very small chance that this could be about me, but it was seeming more and more like I was to be more involved with this case than I had thought.” 

24 hours earlier

The rest of the team had gone to bed hours ago, but Spencer is still awake, lying in the hotel bed staring at the ceiling. He debates calling Y/n, he tries not to bring his work home, he tries his hardest to keep the purest thing in his life away from the horrors and despair he sees everyday. He doesn’t want to put two and two together on this case, he doesn’t want to believe that this could all be because of him, all these victims, their lives ended early, simply because he decided to join the FBI those many years ago. It had happened before, Professor Rothschild back in 2009 and he doesn’t like to think about it, but Maeve was in the center of a case inspired by him as well. Spencer knows he’s overreacting, he knows he can’t blame himself, he didn’t kill those victims, and he didn’t force the hand of the unsubs, all he can do now is get some sleep so he can use his IQ of 187 to stop this son of a bitch, stop him from killing anyone else, ever. 

The sound of a stomach rumbling interrupts Spencer this time. 

“Spencer, when was the last time you ate? God knows how long its been since you slept and its probably been even longer since you ate. Tell me how long Spence, please.” Spencer looks down guiltily, knowing that Y/n is going to be mad when he utters his next words. 

“I don’t know um I’m having trouble remembering-“ Y/n’s face tells it all, the man with the eidetic memory can’t remember when the last time he ate was. “It was yesterday afternoon, there were bagels at the Las Vegas police station, terrible ones but I ate one of those, figured I shouldn’t be drinking five cups of coffee a day on an empty stomach.” 

“Yesterday afternoon? Spencer it’s 2:30 am!” 

“Okay so the day before yesterday afternoon I guess, sue me Y/n!” 

“Spencer Reid I know you aren’t trying to tell me you haven’t eaten in over 36 hours! You wouldn’t do that to me right? Sweetheart, you need food! What would you like?” Y/n notices that it’s strange, right now in this moment Spencer looks like a small child, shy and embarrassed. 

“Um, could you…make pancakes?” Spencer quietly asks. Y/n could laugh, Dr. Spencer Reid, renowned FBI agent who will walk into an interrogation room no problem, is scared to ask his significant other to make pancakes. 

“Pancakes is it? Sure thing sweetheart I’ll make pancakes.” 

“With chocolate chips?” Spencer adds.

“Now you’re pushing it.” Y/n retorts back with a giggle, beginning to make the batter, if Spencer hasn’t eaten in 36 hours he deserves better than some nasty boxed pancakes, that’s for sure. “So what happened next Spence?” 

17 hours earlier 

“Good morning Garcia, any information for us?” Luke asks in the morning. 

“Oh newbie how I wish it was a good morning, another victim has been taken, 43 year old Richard Saxons, his daughter reported him missing when she woke up to an empty house, hasn’t seen him since last night.” The team looks at each other with confused glances. 

“Another victim? But he hasn’t dumped the last victim yet, this is a major change in M.O., do we think the last victim is still alive, we need to rethink this.” Emily explains. 

“Okay why a lobotomy? That can’t be the easiest way of killing the victims.” Matt asks.  

“Here’s the thing, this unsub isn’t necessarily meaning to kill the victims. Lobotomies began in the 1880s when Swiss physician Gottlieb Burkhardt removed parts of the cortex of the brains of patients with auditory hallucinations and other symptoms of schizophrenia. Later in 1935 Portuguese neurologist Antonio Egas Moniz is credited with inventing the lobotomy. There are numerous negative effects and since the procedure literally involves drilling into the brain to slice up pieces of the frontal lobes, if it isn’t performed by a doctor there’s a very high mortality rate.” Spencer of course rattles off. 

“That makes sense with what the medical examiner told us, the lobotomies were crudely done but there was no reason to believe the unsub is a sadist, no signs of torture, the bodies were often dumped with what could be taken as remorse.” Rossi adds. 

“Okay so we’re looking at an unsub who’s trying to cure these victims of their schizophrenia.” Tara states. 

“We need to deliver the profile.” 

“We believe our unsub is a white male of medium build, we believe this because all victims have been caucasian and although there have been cases of serial killers crossing racial lines, overwhelming statistics show he’s most likely white.” Luke begins, 

“He has come into contact with all eight victims including the two currently missing, he knew all of them suffered from schizophrenia and were recently released, he waited until they were no longer patients at the hospital , meaning he most likely has a close connection to Bennington Sanitarium and could be tied back to the crimes, if he works at the hospital it puts him between the ages of 25 and 50, he could be the janitor, a cook, any job like that.” 

“We don’t believe he has official medical training because the manner by which the lobotomies were performed lacks the professionalism a doctor could use, but he also demonstrates knowledge of schizophrenia and lobotomies in general, which shows he isn’t dumb, most likely can hold down a job.” 

“Important as well, we don’t believe this unsub necessarily means to kill the victims, he is attempting to help cure these victims of their schizophrenic symptoms, he may have experienced a loss caused by mental health issues or believes the treatment each of the victims received was inadequate.” Tara finishes the profile, all of the team stepping back into the other room. 

“Hey Garcia you’re on speaker with the whole team here” Rossi answers his phone, 

“Hey guys, this is just getting more and more strange, I finally got into the hospital records, it really seemed as though someone was hacking me from the inside, but I finally got in and here’s the kicker, all of the records of the victims have been deleted, who would even have access for that.” Garcia says. 

“Okay we’ll looks into that Garcia, can you start looking at anyone who fits our profile, has access to the records at Bennington, and has purchased items needed to perform an at-home lobotomy in bulk over the last few months, if the missing woman has somehow survived, this unsub needs at least elementary medical equipment in order to keep her alive, hopefully we’ll see it in his credit history.” Spencer instructs to Garcia before Rossi hangs up the phone. 

“You know who might have some knowledge about all of this, that guy from the hospital, I know the Dr. osaid he’s only worked there a few months but maybe he’s seen something, or maybe he’s noticed someone snooping around the online files, we need to go back to the hospital, Spence lets go.” Emily says. 

“So Dr., you’re saying Mr. Robbins hasn’t been to work since you sent him home when we were here last? That’s odd. What did you say his name was again?” 

“Anthony Robbins, like I said before, he’s an odd guy but does good work, no one around here knows him that well though.” Spencer and Emily nod their heads to each other before Emily calls Garcia, 

“Garcia I need a background check on an Anthony Robbins, stat, and send Rossi and Luke to his house, we need to talk to this guy fast, he knows something.” 

“Agents, are you thinking he could have anything to do with this? I can’t imagine Mr. Robbins doing any harm to any one, especially not the patients at this hospital, he is always the kindest to them, the schizophrenia patients in particular.” Another call from Garcia interrupts Emily and Spencer before they can answer. 

“Things are starting to look a little weird, Anthony Robbins, 37 years old, native of Las Vegas, was born to Linda and Christian Robbins, he had a happy childhood, no signs of trauma or abuse that I can see. He doesn’t have a record, juvie or adult, but his life did change when he was 10.” 

“What happened then Garcia.” 

“Reid stop interrupting me, you know how I like to tell my dramatic story. When Robbins was 10 his 7 year old brother Charlie was diagnosed with schizophrenia, when he was 18 he was put into care at a mental hospital, not Bennington but a close by hospital.” 

“Any interest in alternative schizophrenia treatments?” 

“As a matter of fact my dear genius yes, Robbins has been publishing articles for years, and I’m looking at his recent purchases right now, Robbins has been purchasing health care equipment as well as tools needed for an at-home lobotomy, Anthony Robbins is your unsub.”

“Hey Rossi, change of plans, the guy’s our unsub. You sure? Alright you guys stay there in case he comes back, the guy must have a secondary location.” Emily says before hanging up her phone. “Alright Reid that was Rossi and Luke, Robbins isn’t at home and it looks like he left in a hurry, there’s gotta be somewhere else he’s working, Rossi also said he wouldn’t be able to hold anybody in that tiny apartment, there’s no room and neighbors would hear.” 

“Okay let’s think, we profiled he may have suffered some sort of loss. Garcia do you see any type of loss in this guy’s recent history.” 

“Charlie Robbins, his schizophrenic brother, died two months ago.” 

“That’s right before the murders started, that’s gotta be the stressor.” 

“Garcia what hospital was the brother treated at?” 

“Uh, it looks like a place called Smith Sanitarium, he was there was there for almost 20 years.” 

“Smith! I know where that is, it’s scheduled for demolition actually, closed down about a month ago and has been abandoned since, it’s only about a 15 minute drive.” 

“That’s the secondary location, let’s go Reid.” Emily says, the two agents rushing out of the room. 

“Spence, the pancakes are ready.” Y/n says, pouring syrup over the stack, just the way Spencer always likes them. 

“Thank you so much Y/n, I don’t deserve you. I know talking about the case is supposed to make me feel better but I just feel like an idiot. I mean, he was right there the first day we were at the hospital, it was so obvious, why didn’t I see it?” 

“Spencer stop that right now, you can’t blame yourself for any of it, you met that man for less than a minute when your mind was focused on researching the victims, there was nothing about him that should have screamed 'mad scientist performing lobotomies to mourn the loss of his recently deceased schizophrenic brother’, you can’t blame yourself.” Y/n reassures her boyfriend while reaching up to rub his shoulder. He begins eating the pancakes in front of him, groaning slightly at the taste of food after going so long without eating. 

“I love you Y/n, not just because you’re amazing at making pancakes, seriously these are so good, but because you somehow always know how to make me feel better.” 

“That’s my job babe, personal pancake chef and make-Spencer-Reid-feel-better specialist, now tell me what happened next, it seems like you’re almost at the end.” 

10 hours earlier 

“Alright Reid, the rest of the team and Las Vegas police are on their way and will meet us as soon as they can, but you and I are going to be on the scene first, they’re significantly further away than we are, we’ll have to wait for them of course, this man may not be meaning to kill his victims, but he’s killed at least 6 people nevertheless.” Emily says, driving as fast as she can through Las Vegas towards the abandoned mental hospital, Reid quietly looking out the window. Emily is strapping her vest on when she sees Reid walking towards the hospital alone. 

“Reid, no! I told you, we need to wait for backup, it’s too dangerous!” 

“Emily you know how much I respect you, but there’s two victims in there and if they’re on the brink of death, an extra 10 minutes is not something we have, I’m going in.” 

“Damnit Reid” Emily whispers before running after him.

“Anthony Robbins, FBI put your hands up”, Reid loudly speaks as he walks into the hospital with his gun in the air, immediately seeing two victims in chains. 

“Dr. Reid, I’m so happy you’re here! Let’s put the gun down so I can show you the medical masterpiece I have accomplished.” Mr. Robbins says while holding what looks like a grenade in his hand. 

“Mr. Robbins I know you think you’re doing what’s right, but this isn’t what your brother would have wanted, these people did not ask for this, they were doing well with the medication, now I need you to put down the grenade and let these people go.” Sirens can be heard from outside and Emily appears behind Reid as well, noticing the grenade in the unsub’s hand, but Reid’s eyes are completely focused on the female victim, a woman with extreme similarity to his own mother. 

“It’s such a shame Dr. Reid, I thought you of all people would understand, seeing as you went to Mexico to research alternative medication for your own schizophrenic mother.” 

“That was different Mr. Robbins, I was attempting to research homeopathic remedies for dementia, not performing life-threatening surgeries on mentally ill adults.” Emily can tell that Spencer is getting angry, this case being too close to his personal life, they should be stroking this guy’s ego, not angering him. 

“Mr. Robbins, Emily Prentiss here, I think what you have done is magnificent! I actually want you to come with us, the rest of the world needs to see this!” 

“No, too late, Dr. Reid doesn’t appreciate my genius, so no one will be allowed to. Sorry, agents.” The man says before dropping the grenade. Emily grabs Reid, pulling him out of the hospital while he’s screaming, still not taking his eyes off the female victim. They make it out of the hospital just as it explodes, Reid staring back into the burning building in disbelief while Emily looks at the rest of the team, shaking her head. 

At this point in the story Spencer’s voice cracks, tears start welling in his eyes. “I should’ve saved them, it was completely my fault. He was a classic unsub with a god complex and I did exactly what they teach you NOT to do. I let my emotions get in the way and three people died because of it.” Spencer gets out before he starts crying completely. Y/n enveloping him in a hug and allowing him to cry into her shoulder. 

“Oh Spence, shh, it’s okay, that was not your fault. That man was holding a grenade, did you force his hand? Tell him to kill those victims, no.” 

“But we should’ve been able to save them, we profiled him exactly right, and I ruined it all by raising my voice at him, plus I didn’t wait for the backup we needed, I was too focused on saving a woman who reminded me of my mom.” 

“Spencer Reid, I need you to listen to me right now, look at me, okay, you can do that right? Look at me sweetheart.” Spencer lifts his head to look at Y/n, his teary eyes matching her sympathetic ones filled with love. “You, Spencer Reid, are a hero. You’re my hero, you’re a hero for your team, and you’re the hero of all the people you save every single day. Today was not a good day, but how many victims would that man have killed if your team hadn’t intervened. Today you didn’t save everyone, but if you stop now, you’ll never save anyone ever again.” Spencer and Y/n sit at the table holding hands in silence for longer than either of them care to count, before Y/n hears soft snores, realizing Spencer has fallen asleep in her arms, exhausted from the past days and the emotional release of reliving it all in their kitchen. “Come on Spence, let’s go to bed” Y/n gently shakes him awake and helps him to their bed, knowing that what Spencer needs is a good night’s sleep and a lot of love, which she is more than happy to give him, for the rest of her life even. 

[mortedeveles]

A Search at Midnight.

SUMMARY: Who knew that a ill and sleepwalking Present Mic, and a pair of lost glasses would be the start of your love story witth Tokoyami Fumikage?

PAIRING: Tokoyami Fumikage x gn!reader

THEME: fluff, pining, awkward teenagers <3 [ONE-SHOT] 

TW: I don’t think there’s anything? 

a/n: Please read! this is a personal and writing update. 

hey guys, i known i’ve been MIA for a while. school is kicking my ass majorly, i just got a C in one of my subjects (im usually a straight A student) :’) wishing i could attend therapy and focusing all my time on schoolwork and very little for myself, much less for writing. but ya know, life’s wack. old news. due to this, i can’t promise frequent content. i only have a few planned works that will be released. on another note, regarding my writing, i will be publishing about 2-3 drabbles in the upcoming weeks! i know my interaction is prob gon be low because i’ve been gone for a while ;; but please continue to support me if you enjoy my content <33 FANTASY WEEK has been postponed until further notice. however, we do have a new writing event coming up on late October! will release more information later on. 

sorry for the rant :( i think that’s all and without further ado, please like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoy! supporting content creators is extremely important! love y’all <3 

(will be using banners made by ME from now on. do NOT REPOST. this one-shot is kinda over the place,, may have some inaccuracy with present mic’s quirk ;; also, this one-shot is shorter than usual, but i hope you enjoy!)

The loud blaring of sirens and shouts snap you awake. One moment, you were snuggling your pillow, silently asleep and the next you're scrambling to find your slippers, slapping your glasses on, and racing outside of your U.A Alliance dorm. 

You meet the eyes of your best friend Tokoyami, and rush to his side, eyes darting to observe your surroundings. The rest of class 1A  is in the same hallway as you, kids murmuring nervously. Everyone has messy bed hair and ratty sleep clothing. 

The sirens that shook you awake went silent and within a few seconds, tore into the silence with another screech. Everyone yelps and you flinch. 

''What is it?!'' Everyone begins to murmur and you find yourself clinging to Tokoyami's arm, nervous and half-asleep.

He's been your closest friend since you arrived at U.A. and the two of you share a mutual bond of trust. With just sharing a glance, the two of you know you have to stick together. 

''This is not a drill!'' Aizawa's voice booms- you're not sure from where it’s coming from, ''Class 1A, head to the exit!'' 

Even though your class consists of heroes in training, emphasis on the in-training part, you're still human and react with fear.

Sleep-deprived and overly hyper teens race past you, and while you cling to Tokoyami's side as the two of you rush forward, someone slaps your glasses off your face. It slightly stings.

You don't even register it, adrenaline is pumping through your veins and all you can focus on is reaching the exit of the dorms. The sirens are so loud your ears are straining at the sound. 

Eventually, everyone calms down and Iida, as the good class president he is, turns the chaotic mess of your class into organized students standing in rows.

Your class is standing in the green areas of the campus, the sirens had gone silent a while ago and everyone is fidgety and nervous. What had just happened?

''Alright, class 1A!'' he adjusts his glasses and acting on instinct, you raise your hand to touch yours, only to notice they're gone.  Iida continues talking but you block him out; focusing solely on finding your glasses. 

''No, no...'' you murmur, and Tokoyami notices when your hand releases his arm. He frowns and watches as you murmur to yourself and pat down your shirt and shorts. 

''Aizawa-sensei will be here shortly,'' you manage to catch a few of Iida's words. ''It seems that a...'' he falters. ''Present Mic is ill and is suffering a few symptoms. He's been affected by an unknown quirk, which causes him to release his sonic scream at any time.'' 

Everyone begins to murmur bewilderedly at this, sharing glances and looks. 

''That's right,'' Aizawa stepped out of the dorms and stood next to Iida. The night was dark and you could barely make out Aizawa's figure. 

''And Present Mic...'' he winced. ''Tends to sleepwalk. That's why you heard the sonic screams in your dorms. They're highly dangerous, which is why I ordered you all to leave the dorms and stay away from his range.

''Now,'' your sensei sighs and you realize how his posture was slumped. He was exhausted. ''You can all return to bed. Present Mic has been awoken and returned to the U.A. facilities.'' A classmate or two snickered at this. 

''Alright, you heard sensei!" Despite the time, Iida was rigid and instructive as ever. ''Off to bed! Class 1A, please form a line! Sero, please wrap up Mineta, we don't want any issues this early.'' Sero cheers in agreement and you smile as you hear Mineta shriek.

One you were in a line, in front of Tokoyami, you groan and lean back into him. There seemed to be some commotion upfront and the dorms were still closed.

''Tokoyami...'' you murmured nervously. He frowned in concern at your tone and leaned closer. 

''What's wrong, L/N?'' 

''I lost my glasses,'' you grimace. ''I was about to tell you earlier but I wanted to listen to Aizawa-sensei. Do you think you can help me find them once we step into the dorms?'' 

Tokoyami's body is screaming for sleep, but he knows he'll do anything for you. So he quickly nods.

''Of course,'' he spares a glance at the quickly advancing line. ''It seems that the dorms have been opened. We should head inside and find your glasses.'' 

''Yeah,'' you smile softly- the smile that always makes Tokoyami's heart skip a beat and walk at his side. ''Thanks, Toko. I really appreciate it.'' 

He hums in response, feeling his throat clench as his heart performs an acrobatic show in his ribcage. Tokoyami wonders if you notice how his heart goes euphoric every time you smile at him. 

 Once the two of you are inside the dorms, Tokoyami summons Dark Shadow; he was a bit fearful at the start, but the lighting of the dorms is far enough to keep Dark Shadow on reins. 

After minutes of searching and several grumbles of annoyance, the two of you find nothing. Well, the search was mainly of Tokoyami and Dark Shadow, since you weren't able to see much without your glasses. 

''Oh man...'' you sigh and slump your shoulders. ''I'm going to have to buy new glasses.'' 

Tokoyami frowns at your disappointment and his eyes catch a gleam of silver on the ground. ''Wait,'' he steps away and grabs the glasses off the floor. He grimaces as he presents them to you. They're cracked, twisted, and definitely not wearable anymore.

''Oh no...'' you frown as you hold them in your hands. 

Your sadness unsettles him; and before Tokoyami can even close his beak, a string of words escape them. 

''I'll help you.''

Slightly frightened, you flinch before looking at him. ''How? You don't have to pay for them Toko, they're my responsibility. I appreciate the thought, you're very sweet.'' 

He feels his feathers ruffle at your compliment and he's thankful you aren't wearing your glasses otherwise you'd see his flustered face.

''I-I,'' the boy clears his throat. ''Ahem. I can help you take your notes and so on until you receive a new pair of glasses.'' 

You gasp and grin gleefully. Your body is racing towards him before you can even blink and you wrap your arms around his back, squeezing him as you bury your cheek into his chest.

Tokoyami falters in surprise and nearly squawks- thankfully, he's able to shove it down his throat before he hesitantly returns your hug.

''Of course, Y/N. You are very dearest to me and I would do anything for you.'' God damn it! It seems that he can't control his body tonight! The romantic confession leaves his body and nearly takes his soul alongside.

His words make you freeze and he internally curses at himself, knowing he's ruined your friendship.

''...Really?'' your voice is barely higher than a whisper and Tokoyami finds himself slowly nodding. 

''I like you too, Tokoyami,'' there's a soft smile playing on your lips that makes his knees weak. 

''Well,'' he diverts his gaze from your smiling face. Tokoyami knows that if he stares for too long, he'll never be able to stop. ''That's-that's wonderful.'' 

You laugh quietly at his sudden bashfulness and tug his hand towards the dorm's elevator. 

''C'mon, we should head to sleep.'' Tokoyami feels impossibly happy as he walks with you, hand in hand, and shoulders brushing against each other. He doesn't think he's ever felt this happy before. 

And after the two of you step into the elevator and the doors are about to close, you press a soft but brief cheek on his feathery cheeks before returning your gaze to the floor. The doors slam shut with a ding! and the two of you are blushing impossibly hard.

Needless to say, losing your glasses is the best thing that's happened to both of you. Who knew that a pair of missing glasses would result in a romantic confession from your best friend? 

[kkeidawrites]

Betrayed

It had been a month or two since Dracula’s reign of terror castrated half the country. It had been within those months that she had last seen Alucard, her cheeks grew warm at the thought of the long-haired man and thought how it would be nice to see him again.

After her stay with Alucard at the castle for a couple of weeks, Esmé received a message from her former nanny to come see her father immediately and she knew that it his illness was getting worse.

Esmé didn’t want to leave Alucard, god knows she didn’t but, the golden haired man knew how much her father meant to her and made the decision to let her go. No matter how much his heart was breaking. Esmé wanted him to come with her but, Alucard refused, claiming that this should be something she should do alone. To get closure.

Her final day at the castle was a tough one, Alucard had escorted her to Gresit and saw her off at the port, where Esmé broke down in tears begging him to come with her. Alucard again refused and the two shared a kiss as a parting gift, promising to return as soon as she could.

She watched from the boat, to wave goodbye to him sobbing in anguish as Alucard did the same, he too releasing tears.

Once she had arrived in Jova, Esmé couldn’t stop thinking about Trevor and Sypha and most importantly Alucard but, she knew that she had to see him and to be with him in his final moments.

During this grotesque war his illness had become even worse and Esmé wanted to be with him until the very end. Her father, Aidan, was a man with muscles upon muscles, she would often picture him to be a gladiator and had the most luxurious silky hair, seeing him so sick in his final days made Esmé’s heart shatter.

It looked like he had lost his muscles when she was away at school and he couldn’t keep standing long enough to fall over. The illness targeted his strength first, then his once dark brown skin became pale, and finally his eyesight was taken as well.

In the end, Aiden told his daughter that she shouldn’t stay in Jova to live, but to find a place where she thought would make her feel at home. Esmé could only think of one place that her heart laid and it was with Alucard at his castle. After burying her father, Esmé grieved his death and clutched his notebook where he wrote his final memoirs.

Her father made her promise that she would find a life outside of Jova and that’s what she was going to do. She had fulfilled one promise not it was time to fulfill another. She prayed she wasn’t too late.

And with that thought, she made the arrangements to go and find the infamous castle to visit the son of Dracul. From each town she passed through, the whispers of the castle being located in Wallachia and that’s where she was headed. She was warned by the people to stay away, some criticizing that she may be a witch, that was apart of Dracula’s court. Esmé rolled her eyes at the idea, she knew her possessing powers made her different but, to go as far as saying she was a witch was ridiculous. 

Arriving in the town of Wallachia, or rather what was left of it, the smell of rotting flesh immediately entered her nose. Groaning, she put a hand over her nose to block the smell and continued her trek through the town. Everywhere her eyes looked, dead bodies littered the streets, young, old, animals, you name it. The idea that the people here were suffering so horribly after the war made Esmé’s heart sink. She couldn’t imagine what was going through people’s minds as their towns were ransacked and destroyed by creatures of the night. How the children, who at one time had parents but, they were killed n front of them must be thinking. Wrapping her cloak closer around her body, she was finally out of the small town and was now walking through the deep woods that led to the magnificent castle.

Esmé marveled at the scenery as she walked, there was a small river flowing down the creek with bushes with different berries. Taking a few blueberries off the bush, she popped some in her waiting mouth and proceeded her trek through the forest. Finally arriving at a clearing, the smell of rotting flesh invaded her nose again. Putting a hand over her nose, Esmé looked around for the location of the smell and her eyes landed on two wooden stakes that protruded from the ground. Her eyes followed the length of the poles and she saw two people, one male, one female, both wearing nightgowns and impaled on the wooden stakes. Esmé gasped at the sight and almost fell back on her bottom.

Her heart was beating against her chest as she stared at the two dead people, they looked like they have been here a while and Esmé didn’t know whether to run or look for Alucard. Whoever had done this had a grudge, these two were properly clothed but, the way they were killed unsettled Esmé. Finding the strength to get back on her feet, Esmé quickly rushed inside the castle, she was surprised to see that the doors were unlocked and realized how dark it was in the castle. 

“Alucard?!” She called, her voice echoes and it sent an unsettling chill down her back.

Heading over to the double stairwell, Esmé saw how damaged the castle looked, the paintings on the walls were all ripped, the decorative vases were smashed, and there was fresh blood on the ground and stairwell. Esmé knew that Alucard could handle himself but, he was not invincible, the idea that he could be seriously hurt made Esmé worried. What if he really is hurt? Rushing up the steps, the familiar route to his room was engraved in her mind. The sharp turns and long hallways guided her through the large interior. Stopping in front of a wooden door, Esmé took a deep breath, this was his bedroom. The only time that she was here was the last time they had seen one another. And the first and last time they had made love. Shaking her head, this was not the time to reminisce she needed to find out what had happened here.

Raising a fist to knock, she heard the creak of the front doors open and Esmé had just turned her head when she felt the air shift, something rush her and a tight grip around her neck. The grip squeezed as Esmé tried to breathe and clawed at what she supposed was a hand.

“You are not welcomed here, human.” the dark voice spoke. 

The door to the bedroom swiftly opened and closed behind her and Esmé found herself pressed against the wall. Her eyes were tightly closed ever since her assailant had her in their grasp. Raising a hand, she charged up the little energy she had and blasted the person away from her. Their body flew into the dresser a few feet away from her and Esmé began to cough to regain some of her breath. After her breathing was together, Esmé raised her glowing fists, ready for the next attack.

“Who the hell are you?” she asks. 

The person got up from the destroyed dresser, the wooden planks falling off of their shoulders. Pale skin was the first thing she saw and golden locs framing the person’s shoulders. Her eyes widened in shock and she powered down her fists to stare at the tall man. 

“A-Alucard...what...” she looked him over and saw the clear distraught on his features. His white shirt was opened and wrinkled, his hair looked rough and unkempt and his eyes...his golden eyes that she came to love were void of any other emotion than anger were present.

Esmé didn’t come close to him in fear that he would try and hurt her again. He clearly was not in the right mind and Esmé feared he did not know who she was right now. 

“You came here to betray me too? Just like them?” he asked as he began to stalk towards her. Esmé knew how to subdue Alucard but, how could she bring herself to hurt the man she loved? Her hands were held up by her head in a way to show that she would not harm him but, Alucard could care less. Another human was in his home. Someone else was here to kill him again, just like the last two. They had buttered him down with their sob story, had him teach them how to take down a vampire and even...he couldn’t bring himself to go on because just, that thought made him grow angrier than he already was.

“Didn’t you see the example outside? What happens when humans enter Dracula’s castle? MY castle?!” he pointed to himself as he said this and Esmé jumped at the booming of his voice.

“Alucard, please, just listen-”

“NO!” he roared, suddenly phasing in front of her and grabbing her shoulders. He was literally holding her by the shoulders, her feet swayed from the sudden lift from the ground. The strength of his grip was beginning to hurt her and Esmé grunted from the pain.

“I won’t listen to anymore human lies! No more!” he yelled at her. Esmé felt his nails begin to penetrate through her clothes and she wiggled to be free of his grasp. 

“Don’t you worry,” he said darkly. His head came by her right ear to continue to speak so sinister in her ear. 

“I will take good care of you just like I did the last two.” He promised as Esmé looked in his glowing golden irises. 

“Please...don’t do this...” she whimpered. Alucard set her down on her feet, immediately grabbing both her wrists and using his powers to open the door. Immediately pulling her out of his bedroom, Alucard pretty much dragged Esmé down the hallway.

She tried to pull her wrists out of his tremendous grip but, Alucard would just yank her closer to his person so that she would stop. The quick turns and different doors they took were unfamiliar to Esmé, and every time they entered a different room the atmosphere would grow colder.

“Where...Where are we going?” she hesitantly asked. All she received was silence. This scared her, wherever he was taking her, he was making sure that no one would hear her or even know that she existed.

“You stay here.” He suddenly threw her in a cell, where she fell on her right shoulder. Pain shot through her, and Esmé hissed in pain. The sound of the cell door closing behind her made the woman look up at him.

“I will deal with you later.” he spoke as he locked the cell door then phased away.

“Alucard, wait!” Esmé called to him but, grunted when she felt pain in her shoulder. She rushed to the cell door, but, it made her bounce off due to the cell being spelled. Esmé used the little power she had and tried to blow down the cell but, it ricochets off and almost hit her. She tries three more times and the same results happen again and again. Esmé slumped down onto the cold ground and began to weep, what had caused Alucard so much turmoil to turn into a heartless man.

He couldn’t even recognize her with all the anger he was brewing. And Esmé feared that she has finally lost him.

End of Part 1 

Hey everyone! I know it’s been a while since I’ve last been up here writing but, I have thought about what would happen if Esmé went to find Alucard after season 3 ended, I have really thought about writing this and honestly the idea that I had to remember how season 3 ended really made me upset the first time I watched it and I had to stop a couple of times to get myself together. But, anyway, expect to see the next chapter on Tumblr soon I just thought I would give you guys a taste of the continued story between Esmé and Alucard.

And guys please start using the black!reader x anime tag in your stories when you write! It really does show that there are more black writers and authors out there who needs to be seen and appreciated as well. Thanks for everything you guys, like, reblog and share with your friends! And Happy Blacktober! And make sure to check out my other stories that I have written on my masterlist!

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