#Assuming I were not safely protected by my husband and my partners' families and maybe our General Surgeon

[sophiamcdougall]

So, there’s something I think is missing from the Booker Discourse and the focus on anger vs forgiveness, and whether Booker’s “punishment” is too harsh and who’s responsible if so, and its absence is beginning to slightly disturb me and it’s this: They don’t punish Booker. At all. 

No, really.

It’s one of the things I really like about the film -- how compassionately it treats Booker, both on a narrative and on an inter-character level. In most genre films wrongs against the good guys are usually settled with riproaring vengeance, even if in some the hero conveniently gets not to be the one to enact it directly.  But in the moment Booker’s betrayal becomes clear, character beats we have taken for mere melancholy click into place as heartwrenching grief and suicidal depression. We’re encouraged to grieve for him. We see Andy and Nile’s empathy for him. We see Nicky urging Joe to stop shouting at him even before they yet have any hope of escape. We don’t see a  moment of explicit compassion/restraint from Joe, but he does instantly put aside his anger to accept Andy’s decision that Booker’s coming with them, and does nothing to sabotage that choice. (In fact, it’s unthinkable that he would, but in plenty of action films it wouldn’t be.) And I agree with some of the arguments I’ve recently seen – the intensity of Joe’s fury isn’t necessarily a measure of how long it would last.

And then, as I say, they don’t punish him.

They don’t beat him up. They don’t work off steam killing and re-killing him. They don’t leave him for Kosak, or for the police. Of course they’d never do a full Quynh on him but putting him a box for ... a year? Six months? A week? It would be an option. They don’t do that, either.   

They simply stop hanging out with him. And they have the extraordinary grace to promise this won’t be permanent. And Andy, whom he shot in the back, sees him off with a goodbye hug.

I’m seeing a lot of debate about whether Joe (hotheaded, passionate) vs Nicky (still waters run deep) is The Angry One and which one of them might, by contrast, have been totally fine letting Booker back into the group immediately. I think you can plausibly headcanon the first part of that various ways. Personally I think Nicky would take a more severe line than Joe, although, as I’m about to argue, I don’t think that necessarily has to mean he’s “angrier”.)

What I don’t think you can plausibly headcanon is that either would actually be “fine” taking Booker back immediately, or any time soon.

Now I want to preface this with pointing out that anger is a completely natural and appropriate response to being hurt and whoever is The Angry One out of Nicky and Joe, has every right to that feeling. And to be fair I don’t think that’s really being disputed. But there does seem to be the idea that The Situation  – Anger = Everything’s Fine Now! And I do think it’s slightly ... victim-blamey, like the barrier to HEA isn’t what Booker did, it’s how long the people he hurt retain one specific emotion about it.  Whoever’s angriest is being staggeringly generous to Booker, and the result is 100% compatible with their not being “angry” at all. It’s compatible with “forgiveness” having already taken place. Just for a minute imagine writing to ... Captain Awkward, or Dear Prudence or Reddit Relationships. And explaining that your friend placed you in the power of people who wanted to hurt you, deliberately exposed you to very serious danger and your worst personal fear, and caused you to watch your partner trapped and in pain for somewhere in the ballpark of 48 hours ...  BUT, he is going through some very bad shit, guys, and you really do feel for him. Imagine what the response would be.  (”My friend wanted to commit suicide-by-cop, so he planted weed/guns in the car with me and my husband in it and called the police, although he knows we both have a particular phobia of cops after what happened to another friend who was arrested a while back. Oh and he attacked our other friend, because he wanted to be totally sure the cops would come for him, but he only meant to knock her out not to nearly kill her and he’s depressed and very sorry. I still want to put our friendship on a break. AITA?”)  They would yell at you to oh my god get away from him WTF how is this even a question please get some therapy learn to love yourself. 

And if you repeated that he’s really sad! And it went down worse than he thought it would! And you don’t want to hurt him! they would yell that it’s not about hurting him it’s about protecting you.   Just ... think about it. Imagine you’re either Joe or Nicky. Assume your anger has already completely evaporated, whether you think that’s in-character or not, and imagine you feel truly sorry for Booker. Take the most generous stance on what he did that you can. Fine. But every time you turn your back on him, or see him go off on a mission alone with one of the others ... how do you feel? Even if you don’t think he’d actually do this again, do you feel safe? 

 And imagine trying to recover from the trauma of what just happened to you. Imagine how much it would help to take refuge in all the soft, “family” touches which were also such a refreshing distinguishing feature of this film. Gift exchanges and bets and TV and hugs. Imagine trying to do that with the person who put you through it right. there.

 Nicky and/or Joe could honestly wish Booker no suffering at all, nothing but recovery and healing and peace, and Booker would still be a walking PTSD trigger and working/socialising with him would be downright self-destructive. 

Now, of course this is unpleasant for Booker because he’s already lonely and self-hating and it’s difficult -- though not necessarily impossible! -- for any of them to form a support system outside the group. But that really isn’t the team’s responsibility and, what is really the alternative? 

Maybe it’s being framed so much as “punishment” because Andy says “there has to be a price.” And there does; the consequences of Booker’s choice will unfold in some way whatever they do. The team do not have the option of simply resetting to normal, even if they wanted to. The only question is only who carries the weight of those consequences and how. Should Nicky and Joe have to pretend to feel comfortable around Booker, should they force themselves to go through the motions of friendship – hug him, smile at him, pass him a coffee – while their shoulders go up around their ears whenever he’s in the room, regardless of what that means for their own healing?

The injustice of that should be obvious but even if they did it, even if they made that colossal sacrifice for the person who just hurt them, would it really help Booker? Imagine being him and settling down to watch the football beside Joe and knowing what he likely remembers whenever he looks at you. Honestly, I don’t see that being a healthy path to recovery for him either.

Or OK. Maybe they don’t put on an act. They  keep spending time with him, but they don’t try to hide the nightmares and the flashbacks or the way their smiles drop whenever he comes into the room. Maybe they flinch whenever he gets too close and sometimes they yell at him but they all have to put that on hold every time there’s a mission and somehow they also they try to be his therapists?

I don’t know, it sounds a lot kinder to everyone to just get some fucking space.

Not hanging out with someone who gravely hurt you isn’t punishment, it’s basic boundaries and self-care for you and I’m beginning to worry about what it means that many of you don’t seem to know that.

#The Old Guard #long post #Oh my god Sophia shut up #anger #forgiveness #Fixed the broken sentence now #The Booker Discourse #Booker

[nancydfan]

I think that Mia gets too bad of a rap from a lot of people.

Like yes, was she an agent of a super shady organization responsible for making a bio weapon that destroyed a great deal of lives? Yes. However we don’t know her motivation for joining them yet.

They could have lied honestly. Like The Connections could have advertised themselves to be a great, loving work environment and maybe Mia was young and naive and joined them. Or maybe she was desperate for money, and it was the only job that would hire her. Or hell, maybe she fully knew what they were and joined anyway, either on account of her morals being twisted back then or thinking that even though the company was evil maybe she could do good. Who knows, honestly.

Either way, with The Connections being a shady organization there’s like a very high chance that you don’t get to walk away from them alive. I’m sure if you quit they’d see you as a liability and take you out with no mercy. And that’s why I think Mia didn’t leave, because she knew she would be killed if she did, and maybe that’s why she took the job with Eveline, because it was more of a “you will do this or else” than an option for her (whether it was implied by her boss or if they were upfront about what bad things would happen if she didn’t take the job).

And maybe if her morals were twisted before I fully think meeting and falling in love with Ethan changed her if that was the case, because the Mia we see in RE7 and RE8 is a good person. We see that in how when the Baker’s rescue her she thanks them but tries to leave immediately and tries to warn them about staying away from Eveline (as shown in the note she left in the dlc “Daughters”). She could have tried to get them to call the hospital or her company but she didn’t, because she knew that she was under Eveline’s control and the longer she stayed there the more danger the family was. If she was a shitty person she wouldn’t have done this, she would have done everything she could to save herself.

We also see that in how she leaves a final video note for Ethan, telling him to stay away no matter what, because she didn’t want him to get dragged down in her mess. She knows how much Ethan loves her and I’m sure she knows if she sent a video saying “Ethan pls help” he’d come running for her, but she didn’t because she loves him and wants him to live even if she can’t be there with him. We see it AGAIN when she saves Ethan from Eveline’s grasp, when she tears him from the mold thing he was in and pushes him out so Eveline couldn’t hurt him. Fully knowing she’d have to face Eveline’s wrath.

And for everyone saying “why didn’t she just tell him then” I mean think about it. I think if this super shady organization found out someone they didn’t hire knew what was going on they’d kill them because again they’d be a liability and a threat. And that’s why she doesn’t tell Ethan because she doesn’t want him to be targeted and killed by them. I think if she had the opportunity she would have left The Connections but knows that it would result in her death anyway, and telling Ethan the truth would just end in his death if they found out and it was too risky in her mind.

And I think it’s this same form of protection that prevents her from telling Ethan he’s infected. She says (or at least we can assume that this was her) in Donna’s section that she didn’t tell him because she was afraid she’d lose him. I don’t think he’d divorce her if he found out he was molded (that doesn’t really make sense for his character), I think she was genuinely afraid he’d die (again) or worse begin to transform into a monster the way the rest of the infected did. And that’s why she keeps it hidden because she was scared to death he’d die or suffer a worse fate. Am I saying she was right in hiding it? No, but I think that everyone saying she’s manipulative and gaslighting are wrong because she truly loves Ethan and Rose, and I know she’d give her life gladly if it meant they could live.

I saw other people get mad because Rose is essentially being used as a bio weapon and how could Mia let this happen and I’m like?? She probably doesn’t have a say?? I mean yes Blue Umbrella is supposed to be “the good guys” now but like they’re still a huge organization, I’m sure Mia did her best to prevent this from happening and keep Rose safe but like at the end of the day what can she really do against a huge company?? If anything get mad at Chris because I’m sure he’s got some clout or something in that company that could have allowed Rose to live a normal life without Umbrella or maybe not being used as a weapon but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ a lot of people were like “Mia’s sO annoying at the beginning of the game” but fam that wasn’t even her?? That’s Miranda?? Besides even if it was Mia that blew up on Ethan in the hospital (as per Ethan’s diary) 1.) people deal with trauma differently, and I’m not saying it’s healthy but she’s scarred and doing her best and 2.) probably was afraid if they talked too much about Louisiana Ethan would realize he was infected and then BAM he’s either dead or a mutated monster. And in the cutscene of Mia saying “you matter!” Can you imagine the stress of knowing your husband is Mr Mold Man and not being able to do anything about it, out of fear of what could happen to him? Like of course she’s upset and going to blow when provoked (not that Ethan was aggressive or anything just that he was prying into a very high pressure soda that is Mia’s emotions lol) because she’s been bottling this up and has no one to talk to, and after a while anyone would explode. I think she would have told him if he hadn’t answered that call. Also marriage is not rainbows and butterflies, sometimes you get into messy fights with your partner and sometimes you or the other person say things you don’t mean but at the end of the day you love each other and try to be better. If anything Capcom was depicting a normal marriage tbh.

At the end of the day Mia is not the bad guy. She is only human who tried her best to keep her family safe against all the odds and idc what anyone says, Ethan and Mia love each other and have a healthy relationship and that’s that.

I hope I do this ask justice cause this is the kinda ask I’ve been like hoping for cause you are absolutely gosh damn right.

I’m a chill person & I’m never gonna probably get up into someone’s face about anything cause it’s fandom. I’m not here to cater your experience. That being said, when I see some of these frankly bad takes on Mia I’m like

We know Jack shit about why Mia joined the Connections. Literally nothing so people who have a whole solidified nasty opinion of Mia should probably just sit down. You don’t have to like her. But you also could like, idk, be absolutely dead wrong cause lol Capcom went, yeah we’re not gonna explain any of that.

I got the impression that in between re7 and re8 that they are hiding from the connections too but I may have misunderstood that In re8. I think it makes sense it’s the type of organization you do not leave. No matter how badly you want to and once Ethan came along, do people really think she’d risk him? Spoiler alert: no, no she wouldn’t.

Also, re7 started w Alan. He’s the one that let eveline get out of control so...I feel like people forget that.

I’ve been talking to a friend about people using the Miranda Mia against the real Mia and I don’t know how to kindly tell people that the game kinda absolutely explained that’s not Mia? I do think Mias got a temper which makes sense because Ethan is so even tempered that he can balance her out better. But Miranda Mia was a fuckin bitch. She was needling Ethan’s pain and mocking him. Do people think Ethan sat around for three years taking that? Ethan’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. He was even fighting back w Miranda Mia so manipulative and abusive takes belong in the toilet w the rest of the shit.

Mia blowing up at Ethan means nothing. My parents have proven to me marriage is not easy. You will lose it on people when emotions run high. It happens. There’s a world of difference between a moment of anger versus abuse. But you still love and forgive people for moments of anger because we all have them. And I’m sure Ethan can be just as much as a pain in the ass. I love him more than most and I’d be the first person to admit I’m sure he didn’t make it easy all the time either.

Mia held the truth from Ethan because she was scared not just for her but for him too. It’s a selfless kind of lie. We all do them so I don’t know why Mia is getting burned at the stake for it. I’m just not movable on this. That was a heavy thing to carry and she was doing her best.

As for Rose, I don’t even know what Capcom is doing. How can anyone else know? She’s special and powerful. Maybe she wanted that life? I think we can reserve judgement until re9.

Like I said above, no one has to like Mia. Maybe you don’t vibe w her or maybe you still just don’t care for her. That’s cool. But my gosh don’t lie about the kind of person she is. If you can’t acknowledge her world and heart belongs to Ethan and Rose, I’m just not sure what to tell you.

Sorry for ranting on your ask nonnie 😆 I really appreciate that you sent this in! It needed said imo

#thanks for the ask nonnie!! #resident evil #ethan winters #mia winters #mithan #resident evil spoilers #resident evil 7 #resident evil 8 #mrs joe speaks #long post

[tokoyamisstuff]

Betrothred Ch. 2 - Illumi Zoldyck x Reader

Chapter 2: Bonding

Summary: You’re slowly accomodating to living in your new household, but getting close to your partner is harder than expected.

Warnings: Self doubts, maybe.

Words: ~1600

Song used: Rise Against - Hero of War

Story Masterlist

The following weeks were uneventful, considering that you weren’t allowed to leave the Zoldyck property at all.

Since you were now considered a Zoldyck, a great deal of people would now see you as their target. An easy one too, because you weren’t even half as strong as the rest of the family.

Some would even go as far as to say you’re now Illumi’s weak spot - even though your husband was confident in his ability to protect you.

Anyway, you would need to spend your days on Kukuroo Mountain until the head of the family evaluated you to be strong enough to defend yourself even without Illumi at your side. Only then you’d be allowed to go on missions again.

Even though you had all comforts one could wish for, it was pretty boring in here with no one around except for this unsettling distanced family members. Most of the time they’d just mind their own business unless it’s about work.

There was also the crippling feeling of uselessness plagueing your mind. You tried to compensate for it through your efforts, though.

You and Illumi were living in the main residence, of course, yet had a wing completely build solely for the two of you. It was just like a small but luxury apartement, with a great bathroom, kitchen and whatever else one would need.

Especially the balconry was to your liking. You prefered to spend your time there, simply enjoying the sounds of nature.

It was a day like all the ones before, with you trying to pass time through educating yourself. Might be useful somehow.

You immediately heared a crack of the main door, jumping up from your seat to greet him.

Illumi had been away on a mission for three weeks already, and you just couldn’t wait to see him again. You stopped yourself in front of him, knowing close physical contact was discomforting to the man.

“Welcome home, master.” Just as you were about to take a bow, Illumi brought his hand to your chin and lifted it once again.

“No need to be so formal” he spoke, and you had to admit that the stoic sound of his voice had somehow become calming to you. “I’m your husband now. Just call me like you did before.”

“I missed you, Lumi.” You had just realized it yourself, yet had already blurted it out aloud. How embarassing...

“Oh? That’s good, I think.” He tapped his chin like he’d always do to muse aloud, trying to cover up that this much affection overstepped the limits of his emotional capability.

Trying to change the topic, you just now remembered the heavy storm that was raging outside. “You’re dripping wet!”

“So?” He tilted his head in confusion, still standing at the entrance as you wrapped a towel around his shoulders.

Hunger, cold, sleep deprivation, pain...

Even though none of these could hinder him from functioning, you assumed the feeling was still bothersome. The cold could still affect him that way.

For a second, you had to laugh at yourself. Worried, about him of all people? Ridiculous.

“Take your clothes off” you demanded, a warning finger swirling in the air. “I’ll run you a bath.”

In his free time, Illumi seemed even more like an empty shell. You could say he was pretty boring, even.

But it was fun to teach him all kinds of new stuff - things he was never able to experience or enjoy. Could he even feel something like that?

Since Illumi was raised to be absent of any hopes or desires, he obviously didn’t follow any hobbies either. Except for work, training and the well-being of his family, nothing seemed to be of real importance for him.

So he’d simply shrug it off, following your orders since he had nothing better to do anyway. “As you wish.”

When your husband stepped into the bathroom you had prepared for him, the air was scented with a floral fragrance. You even had lighted a few candles, enveloping the room in a dim light.

It was hard not to stare at the slender man, but you peeked a time or two: His porcellain skin was covered in several scars, and he was more muscular than you had imagined.

In an unconventionalway, he looked like a piece of art.

“Come on in!” you cheered, gesturing towards the perfectly warm water. As he sunk down into the tub, you chuckled at how stiffly he was sitting inside. “Lean backwards, like this!”

You adjusted yourself on a chair next to the bathtub, beginning to gently wash his hair. “Close your eyes” you cooed, gently massaging his neck before running your fingers along his shoulders.

And after a while, his rigid body slowly began to relax - a small feeling of achievement blooming in your chest.

Picking up a comb from the edge of the sink, you began to run it through his silky hair. It almost made you fuming again about how he once wanted to cut it off, because it was ‘a hindrance in battle’.

Yet you couldn’t help it, for the calming atmosphere made you start singing out of a whim:

“A hero of war Is that what they see Just medals and scars So damn proud of me And I brought home that flag Now it gathers dust But it's a flag that I love It's the only flag I trust”

Illumi’s eyes opened slowly, dark orbs pinning you as you detected some kind of wonder in them. “Y/N?”

“Y-Yes?!” The closeness you had craved so bad had you forget about who exactly you were trying to indulge.

“Why did you agree to marry me?” Now where did that question come from?!

"Huh? I- umm...” You began to stammer, frantically scanning your mind for an answer. “Because I like you, I guess.”

You didn’t dare to say love - not yet at least. Maybe someday...

“Mhh. I see.” Illumi turned his head away and closed his eyes again, almost as if zoning out. “I knew you were clinging to unnecessary sentiments, but I didn’t think they’d go this far.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? You didn’t know, but somehow felt offended.

"And why did you ask me to marry you in the first place?”

You just couldn’t help but pitying yourself right now. Of course you were sparring as much as your body could handle, yet at the moment all you could provide for your husband were kind gifts and actions.

“I thought I already made myself clear: You’re an extraordinary individual, and I thought you to be a fitting mate.”

Wow.

“You must be tired” you murmured as you softly rubbed his temples, trying to change the topic.

How stupid of you to think he was actually capable of feeling such a complex emotion - and yet you were disappointed.

“How odd” Illumi suddenly vocalized his cogitation, then falling silent again.

“What is it?” you inquired as you patiently encoated his hair with a towel.

“How very odd” he repeated once again, seemingly overchallenged.

No use in talking this over, huh...

“Let’s get you to bed” you chanted, still all friendly and he wondered why you’d bother yourself with things he could easily do himself.

Truth be spoken: Illumi Zoldyck would most likely forget to eat or clean himself way longer than necessary. Taking basic care for himself was just not present in his mind, and more than often he’d do it pretty sloppy just to get it over with quick.

Wrapping the heavy blanket over yourself, Illumi’s stiff posture was a huge contrast to the soft bed. Only looking at him made you uncomfortable.

And yet: Sharing this bed together, you were glad that he gave you the freedom to decide when you were ready to, well...take the next step.

There was no need to hurry, he once told you. Since you were now all his.

Even in the dark you could spot the emotionless black pit that was his orbs. But you saw something different: You liked to imagine the universe in them, and the brightw stars to be only hidden from plain sight.

“How do you feel?” you spoke softly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a long time anyway.

“Indifferent.”

You didn’t expect anything else, to be honest. “Well, I’m grateful.”

“What for?” Sometimes it felt as if he’d only fake interest, but even that you were happy about - because it gave you hope that at least somehow, he was trying to make you feel home.

Maybe you were just imagining things, though.

“Oh” you started, giggling shyly. “Many things: That you stepped into my life, for example. Chosing me as your partner. Or simply for you coming home safely, and that you’ve let me spoil you a little.”

The absence of an answer made you think he already fell into a dreamless slumber, so you decided to give him some rest. He probably had a harsh mission and right afterwards you had clung on him, almost as if he was a social experiment.

This whole day probably was a little much for someone who had never felt a single pleasant bodily contact before.

Little did you know that your husband was still wide awake, yet deeply buried in thought.

Yes.

Your presence seemed to be beneficial in other ways than practical, he concluded.

But how exactly? He was unable to put it in words.

Yet the rest of the evening, his mind was fogged by your lingering touch and the memory of your soothing voice.

To Illumi, the power you had over him was more dangerous than Nen itself.

___

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[mirismuffins-ovo]

Plant Palace pt 5🌿

[There was a time skip from the last chapter]

John and Eddie's relationship had been good and if anything they got closer as John's pregnancy progressed. There were some nights when John couldn’t help but be in pain feeling the rushed growth of the three babies stretching his belly. The maroon sweater and a few other articles of clothes were the only things left that really fit John's growing tummy. John had started to struggle working with such a large amount of weight. And his sensitivity had gone up immensely touch wise and whenever he touched plants they’d sprout out of proportion. Eddie had been more concerned about John and kept saying John should really start staying home. John always insisted that he was alright but after he had a harder time at work and a few rude customers came in they decided it was time to start planning for a visit to John's godparents.

John and Eddie were packing the car for the trip to his parents,it wasn’t super long but they were cautious for the sake of John. Knowing John needed lots of water snacks(sugar) and light,not to mention the weather had gotten colder recently. John adjusted his clothes as he sat down in the front seat,he was embarrassed of the weight he’d gained in his hips and some in his chest. As John did this Eddie got into the car and started the drive,John gave a soft smile at Eddie and rested his hands on his distended belly rubbing it gently. “I’m sorry if they act weird by the way,they are regular humans though”

Eddie was actually excited for the little road trip they were going to have. He was super proud of John and how far he had gotten over the past several weeks. He loved snuggling up to his boyfriend at night and playing with the babies, which he was still waiting for his turn to feel the outward kicks.

“I’m sure they’ll be splendid.” Eddie smiled. “I’m pretty excited to meet your family, know how you grew up or were raised. It could help us take care of the little ones.” An idea popped in his head. “Speaking of the sprouts, have you decided to name them?”

Eddie felt a small chill so he turned on the heater to warm them up a bit. He also planned to stop by a drive through coffee shop to grab some hot cocoa for the road. The older man was sure his boyfriend would love the surprise treat.

John gave an awkward look at first when he mentioned how he grew up and he focused on the second question. “I haven’t yet,I want your help with that if that’s alright?,I’m not sure what the little fruit gummies will look like when they’re here.” He smiled warmly and patted his belly feeling one of them kick. John was pretty excited to see the babies. “ Henry and Quinn are good people they’ll be pretty helpful,but do not listen to them when they say baby names” He laughed softly “not the best judgement with names,we had a cat named Pringle’s” He smiled at the memories,still gently patting his round belly. Nearing the small coffee shop Eddie pulled off the main road and John was a bit confused until he realized this was a surprise stop. His face lit up “Oooo are we getting cocoa” he couldn’t help but excitedly fidget. They were maybe just a bit farther out from his childhood home.

“Of course cocoa.” Eddie smiled, ordering two with extra whipped cream and marshmallows. Sprinkles for John’s. “I might have a few ideas on the baby names, but I’d want to see them first to confirm if they’ll fit.”

Then they took off down the road again. The two enjoyed the scenery, watching as they drove further north towards John’s godparents place. Finally after 6 hours of travel, they arrived just after the sun had set. Eddie could see John be a little nervous about seeing his family after he assumed it was a while. Eddie took his boyfriend’s hand as he turned off the car.

“It’ll be okay. I’m here with you and we can turn around now if you want to leave.”

There were a lot of memories in that house “no no it’s okay...I just don’t know how they’ll react to um “he looked at his tummy and then Eddie “I know they won’t be mad but it’s still awkward” he shrugged and took a deep breath as they got out of the car Eddie helping John down making sure he wouldn’t fall. Eddie grabbed their bags and John grabbed bittys carrier,she let out a soft tired meow waking from her nap. They walked up to the front door of a nice looking house,it was surrounded by large tall trees,there seemed to be no neighbors around for a distance. John hesitantly pressed the doorbell and he heard a shuffle from inside.

The door clicked open to reveal a tall man just a bit shorter than Eddie,he wore glasses and had brown hair and a sweater on his face was slightly scruffy and showed a few signs of graying with a few streaks in his hair. His face lit up brightly when he saw John “My little Johnny!” He said lovingly just before realizing that the small redhead had quite the large tummy covered by his sweater. Another person shorter than John and androgynous looking opened the door more “Oh my..John you’ve gotten fat” they said a bit shocked as they allowed the couple to step in from the cold.

John felt his face get hot with embarrassment “hello to you too Quin”

Henry had pulled John in for a hug trying to be careful with John's tummy “so is this your handsome husband?” He gasped slightly and looked at John with a raised eyebrow “I see you’ve inherited my taste in men John” he said teasingly. John was an embarrassed little mess dealing with his godparents.

Eddie blushed and felt a little bad for John. He wanted to speak up to correct the older man, but he kept his lips tightly closed. Instead he just smiled and helped with the bags. When they greeted the other man, he blushed a little further when he heard the compliment.

The house was lush and cozy, growing into a grandparent’s aesthetic, but also manly. He quite liked the subtle decoration. He stayed close to John as they were shown around the house. He dropped off the bags in their room for the weekend and continued to stay close. Although he knew these people were safe, he couldn’t help but feel protective of John. He offered John the chance to return home, but he was the one who wanted to hide and protect him and the babies.

Once the house tour was over, they all decided to relax in the living room for the evening until they had to go to bed.

It was the next morning and John woke up in the arms of his lover,who he’d found tiredly rubbing his plump tummy in a loving manner. “Morning” John smiled softly and nuzzled his face into Eddie's shoulder inhaling the lovely scent of him. John struggled to sit up with the weight of the babies,he huffed as he slouched in bed. “I can’t wait to meet them,but we should probably tell Henry and Quinn and see if they’ll be able to take care of them” John sat up and struggled to grab the clothes out of his bag on the floor,he wasn’t able to bend down,and had been needing help getting dressed. “I can’t reach it” he sighed, cradling his bulging tummy that rested in his lap while he sat back on the bed. He heard a light knock on the bedroom door and he heard Henry call for them to come to breakfast. Eddie had helped John get dressed and they went to breakfast together sitting down at the table that was covered in pancakes and assortments of fruits. Quinn set down a cup of tea for John and the coffee pot in the middle of the table.

John had proceeded to eat his breakfast and a large amount at that. He decided to speak up “so I’m pregnant..if you couldn’t tell” he cleared his throat glancing or a moment at Eddie still nervous,but he heard Henry squeal with joy and come over to and get on his knees “your having a baby????” He softly poked his tummy. Quinn humpfed and rose an eyebrow at this,it was obvious that Quinn didn’t like John too much.

John gave a soft laugh “three actually” he was shy about it but Henry couldn’t help but smile and place his hands on John's tummy and placed his ear close and lovingly listened. He could hear the shifting of the babies and laughed happily before giving John a big hug and looking at Eddie “congrats your two!” Quinn had started to clean up the table not saying anything

“It might be too dangerous to raise them in the city,there’s a chance that they might look too plant-like..so we were wondering if you could take care of them part time?” Henry looked like he was about to say yes,but Quinn’s voice rang out “No!” John looked startled and Henry whipped his head back to look at his partner.

Eddie didn’t bother to correct Henry’s joy when John brought up asking to help raise them. When Quinn shouted ‘NO!’ It shook them a little. Eddie noticed Quinn wasn’t too pleased to see John and with him being a complete stranger to the two, he could understand a little of the frustration. Clearly there was something here that Eddie was missing.

“I’m not sure of what’s going on between you and John, but I know little to nothing about Abnormals, Abnormal pregnancies, let alone plant children.” Eddie voiced. “I know it sounds so short but I’ve known John for over a year now and we’ve been together for a good four months or so, all he’s doing is asking for help.”

Eddie could see anger boil in Quinn’s eyes. Henry and John became quiet. He looked at all three and sighed. “Could we at least talk about this before making a final decision? If anything, think about John, when he shouldn’t be having stress on him. Both of us are unsure about all of this, the unexpected rock tossed into our short relationship but we’re both trying our best to figure this out. We’re not dumb teenagers who went and got ourselves knocked up. I just happen to be here when it’s brought up. We’re both functioning adults as much as we would love to care for the babies like any other family should when given the opportunity, there’s just that barrier, especially with America having a tight ass about things.” He looked over them all. “I deeply care about John, so just hear us out, please.

John was upset and he moved closer to Eddie for comfort. Henry was distressed about how his partner had reacted,Henry was more than happy to help John but then Quinn spoke again. “We’re not raising anymore abnormals Henry,I don’t know how you pamper him” Quinn raised a hand to point towards John with anger “DO YOU NOT REMEMBER WHAT IT WAS LIKE RAISING HIM” they sighed with anger and shook their head. “Three more!? Continuing his bloodline,you know his parents and his past,another Prince-“

Henry snapped “that is quite enough” John could feel it hard to not cry but he kept calm and looked away at the floor,grabbing into Eddies hand.

“If they find we’re associated with the Prince family,which keep in mind could have happened while we raised him,but that never happened. There’s still places to hide them Quinn” Henry shook his head “I’m sorry about this John” He muttered to John and Eddie,seeing the small pregnant man looking upset.

Quinn continued “this is johns problem were not responsible for him anymore”

John took a shaky breath and tried to pull Eddie away “w-we should get going..it’s a long drive back” he said in the middle of the silence “im..sorry for asking about it”

“What…” Eddie was shocked at what just went down. He was forming more questions than answers. But John was already on the move pushing past them with tears in his eyes to pack the clothes he took out for the night while Eddie quietly gathered Bitty. He didn’t want to say anything but he now understood why John was nervous in the first place about even telling him.

What had John gone through growing up? Was Quinn always this rough on him? What is Quinn’s fault that John was so scared of humans? Where were they going to go now for help? He knew a ticket to Canada wasn’t cheap and to live there was too long a process. If the pregnancy was going how John said, faster and quicker, especially with three, they were pretty much out of time.

John was already 2 months gone into his pregnancy and could have them after the third. Plus with winter approaching, John was starting to lose his energy, another reason why Eddie wanted him to stop working. He was at a loss as he packed the car while John said farewell to Henry. A pit in his stomach formed for John, feeling that this would be the last time he would see the people who helped raise his boyfriend.

The younger man was sniffly and red-eyed by the time they got into the truck, Bitty settled between them. The ride was tense, silent. All Eddie could do was hold his hand. He was sure there was something they could do to solve this problem. But he promised he was going to stick by his boyfriend until the end, even if they were old in age.

“We’ll be okay.” He said, hoping the words would help a little, but knowing how things were, he pit in his stomach never left and wasn’t any time soon.

#mpreg kink #tw: mpreg #mpreg story

[holylulusworld]

Ms. Bodyguard - The knife

Summary: Jensen is used to be the hero on his show. He’s not a coward, not at all - but when he gets attacked by an unknown man the studio insists on a full-time bodyguard. Specialist in protecting people while living with them - you agree to protect Jensen, but he doesn’t like the fact a ‘small’ girl shall protect him. Will you be able to protect the unwilling actor?

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Bodyguard!Reader

Characters: Clif Kosterman, Jared Padalecki

Warnings: angst, mentions of stalking/mental health problems (nothing graphic), blood, mentions of attempted murder, arguments, grumpy Jensen, mentions of injuries, language

Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist

A/N: Lyrics are taken from Paul Simon’s – Call me Al

* The reader likes to use songs as passwords (in this chapter Call me Al) and names of Greece Gods as special passcodes. Here’s a short explanation of what every code means:

Artemis – danger to life (client got attacked)

Ares – drop everything and run

Aphrodite – the client wants to be alone with a lover/love interest

Dionysus – the client is drunk/took drugs

Hades – client got hit/heavily injured/close to death

Hera – family of the client is in danger

Zeus – attacker sighted

Athena – backup needed/call the police

Poseidon – distraction needed to transfer the client safely

Nemesis – attacker/stalker down

Hephaestus – weapon needed/weapon got lost

“Hey-Betty.” Clif runs one hand down his face while he tries to make you answer his call. “I know you listen to me talking to your mailbox. I got a problem. - It’s Al…”

If you want an answer, do the whole song… An automatic answer replies and Clif takes a deep breath. He knows you do this kind of game to keep your clients safe but sometimes – it’s annoying to ‘play’ with you.

“Y/N come on. You know that only me got this number since you work alone. Give me a chance. I’ve got a client, or rather a good friend who’s in danger. Please.” 

If you want an answer, do the whole song… Again, Clif sighs but he’s got no other choice, so he clears his throat and starts singing the song you chose as his password.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

While Clif sings the song, you hold your stomach, laughing hard as he is, by all means, an awful singer. Tears well up to your eyes and after weeks of being bitter you have a soft smile on your lips remembering the training with your friend.

If you'll be my bodyguard

I can be your long-lost pal

I can call you Betty

And Betty, when you call me, you can call me Al

The song ends and you listen closely, waiting for Clif to use a specific passcode to inform you about his current situation. If you trust anyone, it’s your old friend and training partner but in your business – you can never be careful enough or you end up dead.

“Passcode: Artemis,” Clif said the password for a worst-case scenario and you answer his call.

“Y/N, my friend got a serious problem. It’s red already. Are you still in Saudi Arabia or can you come back to the states?”

“I packed my stuff Clif and you can speak freely; the line is safe.” Rubbing your sore eyes, you sit up to listen to your friend’s explanations. “But let me tell you one more thing before you start – you are one awful singer.”

Clif huffs before he grins on the other side of the line. “Did you finish your ‘princess’ job? I don’t want to mess with another job.” 

A soft smile tugs at the corner of your lips hearing your friend is worrying about you and your job. “I heard she married…”

“Married and became a spoiled bitch. Let’s say we parted ways before I had to split her skull with my combat knife, Clif.” He chuckles lightly but this time, you can’t laugh with him. “Now back to your problem.”

“That bad, Riffle? What did she do?” Clif avoids your question and you wonder who is in trouble. 

All you know is he worked for a TV show over the last years, nothing else. It’s not as if you had the time to stay in contact with friends while protecting a princess.

“What happened, Y/N?”

“Husband said I am no longer needed. She agreed. End of story.” Looking at your gun on the nightstand your eyes sadden. 

“I protected her for six years, Clif. Now she married a rich guy and I am…disposable. I got hit by a bullet for her…twice. For years I believed she’s different, my friend, but in the end they are all the same.”

“I am sorry to hear, Riffle. Never thought that she’s a…” Clif gulps when you laugh bitterly. “A spoiled brat? At least I learned my lesson, buddy. No more princesses…”

“Great. My friend is a guy, actor and he got attacked by an unknown person last week. He tried to play it cool, but the studio is on high alert. A guy managed to sneak on set, waited for Jensen to be alone, and stabbed him.” Clif huffs at the other end of the line and you know he wants to take the blame.

“Clif, I love you but stop right now. It’s not your job, it’s the security guards’ job to keep the set safe. We both know how often people can sneak on set to take pictures, steal scripts, or crap. I will help you but only if you stop taking the blame.” Now you huff as Clif chuckles lightly.

“Okay, Riffle. When can I pick you up?” Glancing at your packed suitcases and duffle bags you try to remember which time it is in the US. “Y/N?”

“I will book a flight in the morning. Tell me where I have to be and send me his profile. I need to know everything about that guy, his family and working place. I need to meet him too before I agree to protect him.” You are adamant about your rules, so Clif agrees without arguing.

“I’ll send you the information to the FTP server. Give me three or four hours. The destination is Vancouver. I’ll pick you up and we can talk on our way. Do you know anything about Supernatural?”

“Did a ghost kick his ass or Bigfoot?” Smirking you hear Clif explaining he meant a TV show called ‘Supernatural’ and not the supernatural in general. 

Good thing your friend can’t see you as you roll your eyes at his explanation about the ‘cool’ show he’s working for.

“Clif, I did not watch TV for like six or seven years. Oh-fifteen years? That’s a freaking long time for a series, dude. Now let me have some sleep. I suggest you tell your friend to stay at the hospital. There are cameras, a security team and the cops will guard his room. Do not let him go home…”

“Got it, Y/N. Goodnight and thank you.” When Clif hangs up you sigh deeply. Tomorrow you will leave the land you called home for the last six years. Even worse – you will leave a friend, as she no longer needs you…

Reaching US ground for the first time in six years feels odd, strange even. Saudi Arabia was your home for so many years and being away from Soraya, the first client you would call family feels wrong, but you had to leave.

She lied to you. She betrayed you. She wanted you gone…

Her father called you to his office right before you were ready to head out to the airport, asking you why you quit as his daughter’s bodyguard out of the blue. 

You could’ve told him the truth, that his daughter is an ungrateful brat, but Abdallah was always good to you and doesn’t deserve to get into a fight with his daughter and son-in-law.

At first, he didn’t like the idea of having a woman around to protect his only child but with you, not being a man, he could be sure you can stay by her side in any situation.

It pained you to lie to him, but this was the last time you could protect your client. One last time you took the bullet when you told him you want a change of scenery. 

He looked at you with disgust and kicked you out of his office. Well, that’s what you get when you try to save his daughter. 

“Y/N!” Clif waves at you, a big smile on his face as you walk toward the exit. “Wait. I’ll take your bags.”

“Clif, don’t get me wrong. I know you are a gentleman and all, but I can carry my shit, okay. Now let’s get this straight. Your client is Jensen Ackles, he got attacked by a guy who blames him for fucking a z-list starlet and the cops didn’t get him so far.” Ignoring your speech Clif grabs your suitcases to place them into his car.

“Correct. Jensen had like two or three dates with that girl. They uh—Aphrodite* me a few times and after the third date they got into a fight.” Clif explains while you take notes. 

“She accused him of cheating on her, he yelled back they only fucked, and I drove her home while Jay stayed at the bar.”

“Okay. What happened next?” Opening the door to the passenger seat for you Clif tries to explain the girl started to stalk Jensen.

She called him daily, send disgusting messages, and nudes to his twitter account and stood in front of his house more than once.

“Did he call the cops?” Hopping into Clif’s car you watch him shakes his head. “Let me guess. Mr. Ackles didn’t want to look like the victim. So, he’s a macho?”

“Listen, he tried not to get her into trouble. Jensen believed she would cool off and stop with that shit she pulled. He changed his number, reported her doings to twitter, and told me, the security on set and his colleagues about it.”

“I assume she didn’t stop?” Your friend shakes his head while he pulls out of the parking lot. “It got worse?”

“Awful even. She came to set, naked only wearing a thong. She cut Jensen’s name into her stomach and we had to call the cops, an ambulance, and fight off the press.” 

Nodding you check the files Clif sent to you. “She’s at an asylum for four months and gets better. After she got medicated the girl realized not Jensen was her problem.”

“Maybe she lied? Maybe she’s behind the attack?” 

“We checked her contacts thrice, Y/N. I am not as good as you or your former team, but we normal bodyguards are not useless either.” Patting your friend's shoulder you give him a soft smile. “No one visited her or contacted her before the attack.”

“I know, Clifie. Relax. I would never thing low about you, okay. I just need all information to see the picture.” Clif keeps his eyes on the street while you scroll through the files. “No parents. No siblings. So, no angry family. No ex-boyfriends or husbands. Check.”

“She was a loner. The girl tried to help us, but no one came to her mind.” Clif explains as you shut off your iPad.

“No secret admirer sending her flowers or cards? No one claiming he was the one attacking your client?” Your friend shakes his head and you frown.

“That’s odd, Clif. I mean, if that guy did it to avenge that girl, he would’ve shouted it from the rooftops to get her attention.”

“I know, Y/N. That’s the reason I called you for help. This is…fishy. My instinct tells me something is off with that attack and the way Jensen met that girl. I don’t want to sound like a lunatic but…”

“Dude, only as you are paranoid doesn’t mean they are not after you.” Chortling you give Clif a wink. I will dig deeper and see what I’ll find. Let me call a friend of a friend.”

“C.I.A., F.B.I., or someone else?” Giving you side-glances your friend gulps when you whisper, ‘someone else’. “What will you have to do to ‘dig deeper’?”

“Nothing. That asshole owes me his life and balls.” You smile at Clif, but he can see it’s a fake smile. Whatever past you have with this man, you’ll never tell anyone.

“I don’t need another bodyguard, Clif. For fuck's sake! She looks like a tramp or schoolgirl!” Jensen yells when you enter the room with your friend.

No matter which insults he throws at you, your face remains stoic, your eyes are trained on his face and your posture never changes.

“I don’t need a little girl protecting me! I bet if she sees Jared that girl will go for a run.” Jensen gets out of the hospital bed, hissing as his wound still hurts and he refused to take pain meds.

“Jay-uh—hey!” A tall man enters the room, a knife in his hands, and before Clif, Jensen or the guy can blink you lunge out to twist his arms behind his back to pin the tall man against the wall, face first.

He struggles in your hold but there is no escape when you kick his legs apart.

“Y/N don’t kill him! That’s Jared, Jensen’s friend, and colleague!” Clif gasps and the man you still hold pinned to the wall nods eagerly.

“He had a knife!” Voice controlled; dominant you do not let go of Jared. “Why did he come into Mr. Ackles's hospital room, a knife in his hands?”

“Sorry, but that’s a knife made of chocolate. I thought it’s funny, but I guess, the joke is on me.” Jared huffs and you look at the knife which lies abandoned on the floor. 

“Okay, Jared. I will let you go but you will wait until I checked on the knife or you’ll feel my knife pierce your lung.” Warning the tall man, you reluctantly let go of him.

Clif already picked the ‘knife’ up only to break it into two halves. “Chocolate, Y/N.”

“Holy fucking shit!” Jensen gapes at you holding a combat knife in your hand. “Did you call for the Terminator?”

SPN Forever Tags

@donnaintx​​​

@screechingartisancashbailiff​​​

@fallen-wolf22​​​

@sister-winchesters99​​​

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@mblaqgi​​​​

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@abeautifuldiaster124​​​

@matsumama​​​

@rynabarnesrogers-reading​​

@homeorbust​​

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

Dean/Jensen Forever Tags   

@spnfamily-j2​​​

@supernatural-bellawinchester​​​

@negans-lucille-tblr​​​

@deans-baby-momma​​​

@thefaithfulwriter​​​

@squirrelnotsam​​​

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@palefiregiver​

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@michellemxndes​​​​

@addictedtofictionalcharacters​​​​

@gabifernandessn​​​​

 @waywardrose13​​​

@team-free-will-you-idjiot​​​​​

@myopiamystical​​​

@rintheemolion​​

@isthatabutterfly​

@bluecornflowers​​​

@rosalynshields​​​

A/N: If your name is crossed out Tumblr won’t let me tag you.

#Ms. Bodyguard - The knife #angst #Jensen Ackles #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen x you #jensen x bodyguard!reader #bodyguard reader #Ms. Bodyguard Masterlist #clif kosterman #Jared Padalecki #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles series

[multific]

Voices

Santino D’Antonio x Reader

Summary: There is an age gap between you and Santino, not many people are fond of that, and you, who had been thrown into the crazy world of the Mafia, needed to deal with that.

 You didn’t know how he did it.

How he couldn’t hear all the people talking, just talking all the time. As your relationship with Santino was the only thing that they cared about.

And the looks they gave you. Wherever you went, if they know who you were, they would treat you like you were nothing.

Only because you fell in love with an older man. Only because the man you chose to be the wife of was older than you.

You got called many things, Sugar Baby, Gold Digger, A whore, a good for nothing little girl. Your close friends often told you to just leave Santino, no man was worth the abuse of society, but you didn’t.

In your eyes, Santino was the only one, your one and only. His love is all you will ever want and need.

One thing many people asked for before they started to judge is how you and the head of the mafia met.

One night, you had a pretty bad fight with your mother, she was tired and angry because of her job and you were the one she chose to take it out on. You had enough of that and left. Even if it was the middle of the night, outside seemed a lot more inviting than being at home and getting yelled at for nothing.

You avoided all the bars, not wanting to deal with drunk people. In the end, you sat down at a bus stop. Since it was so late, no one was around and you could let your thoughts run loose. Little did you know that it was about to change for the better.

“Excuse me?” you got scared when a man started talking to you. “Are you alright?” he looked genuinely interested. Something about him told you that he wasn’t a creep or a murderer.

For some reason, you trusted him and started talking to him.

That was the night you met Santino, he walked you to your home and asked for your number. You knew he wasn’t the kind of man that would play around, looking for young girlfriends. You could see it in his eyes that he was serious about your relationship.

As soon as you turned 21, you moved in with him. Your mother was so against your relationship, she tried everything she could to break the two of you up, but nothing worked. Your love survived it all. The only person who was supportive of your relationship with Santino was your father. He actually quite liked Santino and the fact that he was serious about you. At first, your father was afraid that Santino only liked you because you were young, but soon he learned that that wasn’t the case at all.

Santino’s kindness, his smile, his gorgeous eyes, the way his skin felt against yours, just him, is what made you happy.

He made you into a woman although he didn’t want you to change, he loved you just the way you were. But with time, you did become more mature, but when it was only the two of you, you were really yourself.

Due to Santino’s status as the leader of the mafia, you often had to go to galas and parties with him, well you weren’t really required but you loved to spend time with him and he loved to show off just how beautiful his girlfriend is.

And this is when all the hate and comments started. As soon as people learned that you were younger than Santino, their looks changed. They started judging you, calling you names behind your back.

You felt like running away from them, never going to a gala or meeting or party ever again.

But then he came again, with his gorgeous eyes, honey-like voice and reassured you. He told you, you should never ever let their voices be louder than your own, after all, they were nothing compared to you.

He made you believe it, he really did.

Not even a month later, you found out about a blessing, the blessing of a child. You had to think of a way to tell Santino, you didn’t want to just tell him out of nowhere.

So that week, when he took you to your usual date spot, at his restaurant, you gave him hints like not drinking any alcohol and asking for slightly bigger portions, but Santino was just too thick.

Your date that night ended in one of his beach houses. His favourite one was the one that was directly next to the beach, with a gorgeous view of the water. He usually took you there to spend the nights alone, making love, nothing bothered you there.

And that is exactly what you did, made love all night long.

He felt amazing, you melted into his touch as his body became one with your own.

By the time you were both calm and less sweaty, you brought the subject up.

“Santi, what do you think about children?” he was shocked that you brought the subject up but very happy, he wanted to talk to you about serious things like that.

“I want at least three. The first has to be a boy, then twin girls who are as beautiful as you are, Bella.”

“I’m glad you said that. Because I’m pregnant.” there was a smile on Santino’s face which lasted a whole week, his business partners found it rather odd that D’Antinio was smiling this much, even Ares brought the subject up to which Santino was happy to share the news.

“I’m going to be a father.” Ares wasn’t surprised, she knew about her boss’ love life and the woman she has seen so many times. Sure Ares never spoke to you, since you didn’t know sign language, but Ares assumed from the way you spoke that you were a nice girl. And also because Ares did a background check on you for her boss’ safety.

During the time of your pregnancy, it seemed like you got more enemies. Now you got judging looks and words not only during events but during meetings as well.

Since you and Santino got married as soon as he heard the word ‘pregnant’ leave your mouth.

Sure, Santino was protective, so even when you were at home, you still had at least two bodyguards with you at all times. After all, the child and wife of the mafia are one of the top targets in the eyes of enemies.

Luckily, no one dared to mess with Santino on that level, so you both were safe.

Santino bought a brand new home. A gorgeous mansion away from the city, he said in there your family would be safe.

You found it still strange that you got to call his property yours. Santino often told you that money wasn’t an issue and you can buy whatever you wished for. But after furnishing the mansion, you didn’t have anything you wished for besides a healthy family.

When you were just into your fifth month of pregnancy, Santino took you to a gala. And this is when it all went downhill.

People there made comments and looks at you and you knew what they were thinking. And in just a few hours, your mood went down.

And this time, was the worse. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, you weren’t sure, but it was a lot worse. Before you could just ignore them since it was only you, they talked about, but now, you were going to have a baby.

And you were worried for the child, that they will cast him out, they will say or do things to the baby.

You couldn’t let that happen, so you did what any desperate wife would do, you talked to your husband. You talked about all your fears and doubts.

Santino saw the hurt in you, he thought you were finally over this. Over with what other thought, but as soon as you brought up your fear for the child, he knew he needed to get involved. You were a strong woman, he was sure you could deal with a few comments.

“You know My Love. One thing I learned about people is that no matter what you do, or rather no matter how much you’d try and appeal to them, they will always find something to get you down with. They will smile to your face and once you turn your back, they are already talking about you. I learned to ignore them since that is the way I grew up, but you, My Love, you are special. You grew up in a completely different setting, you are loving, beautiful, and kind and they are jealous of that, they are jealous because instead of marring one of them, I found true love, we found true love with each other. No matter what they try or say, I will love only you, and our son. And I will make sure that absolutely nothing happens to either of you.” his words meant more than anything else. The way he spoke made you feel warm inside, like all the hate you endured was worth it, like all your worries vanished. All the voices just disappeared. All but one, his. His voice stayed and that was all you ever needed and will ever need. He was your love, your husband, the father of your child.

You felt stupid for listening to others, for letting them bring you down. You needed to be strong, you were the wife of a mafia leader, and you will be a mother. You couldn’t let others judge you just by your age. You knew you needed to keep those voices out and only let in the ones that mattered. You looked up at your husband, kissing him on the lips.

“Thank you.” was all you needed to say.

Santino swore he never saw you like this before, so confident, so beautiful, so grown up. He was glad you finally got rid of your demons and you were finally yourself. He was happy to see his wife so happy, so carefree and even if that meant you’d spend more money, he didn’t mind. He enjoyed seeing you in all the different dresses and the most important, he saw just how much thought you put into your child’s room as you decorated and furnished it.

Santino met with a girl when he saw you at the bus stop, but now all he could see is a proud woman, wife and mother. And all you needed to do was close out the voices.

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[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 67: Home

Keith returns to his first home, and brings Lance to meet his father. But first, a tiny bit of fluff to soften(?) the blow

TRIGGER WARNING: This episode includes the themes of loss and grief, which be distressing to some readers. Please take care of yourselves <3<3<3

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Keith’s home is simple, four domes, one visibly newer than the others, and one with a new roof. The stove and fireplace have also been redone quite recently. There's also a little garden plot now, overgrown with unkempt flowering plants, lovely in its little patch of wilderness.

“Ah, Mom added a washroom. Thank fuck. Lake’s cold as shit for a bath… It was nice of her to fix the place up. I’d always assumed I’d come back out here when I finished my service.”

“I never really thought about your aspirations had you stayed,” Lance ponders.

“Mnh. Nothing special. Do my time in the military, maybe find a mate, come back here for a while, then travel the stars. Try to find Earth, where my name comes from. But I’m doing something different, and that’s okay.”

“Is it?”

“Being mated to you, raising our kits, and looking after the Altean Empire? It’s not what I imagined, but I like it well enough. I’m happy.” And, because Lance doesn’t quite look convinced, “Really, Lance. Our life together makes me happy. Come on. I’ll show you around. We’ll unpack, and then we can swim in the lake, and you can see the waterfall.”

Lance watches Keith carefully, unsure of how he’ll react now that he’s home. They carry their things inside, watching the breeze roll red earth over the red stone floor. The main room is simple: a small fireplace with a narrow chimney, a knotted rug, a pair of chairs, a stool. Draped over the newer-looking of the two chairs -the other looks rather weathered- is a thin, threadbare cloth blanket, sun-bleached red. Keith smiles, picking it up.

“This was my blanket when I was kit. I couldn’t sleep without it. I left it here when I went with Shiro. I thought it might get taken away… I wonder if we could use it for something.”

“What, like for a baby?” At Keith’s nod, Lance continues. “It looks pretty thin, but maybe Pidge could do something with it. They act callous about it, but they actually really like kids, and not as science experiments. Not exclusively, anyway. It’s cute that you’re thinking about that stuff already.”

“It’s not like we’ll have a lot of time to devote to that stuff once we get home. We’ve delegated pretty much all of our duties for now, but that won’t last long. I have to think about while I have time.”

“Well don’t think about it alone. I’m right here. I already told you: I’m not going to be like the ol’ sperm donor back home.”

“Ugh.” Keith rolls his eyes, turning to open the cellar by the table. “I don’t want to look, think, or hear about your sperm donor ever again. He will never be left alone with our kits.”

“Good idea. Given the chance, he’ll gift them weapons and tell them they’ll take a life before they’re twenty.” Lance sighs. “You are going to let him see our kits, right?”

“Of course! He’s their grandfather! If he wants to see them, and can behave himself, then I want him to. Under supervision. My mother on the other hand…” Keith frowns, stands, brushes earth from his clothes.

“What?”

“Nevermind. Just more family drama. We have enough already.” Keith huffs. “Come on. I want to go swimming.”

“Can’t say no to that!” Lance chirps, skipping after his spouse. He doesn’t believe it’s ‘just family drama’ at all, but he’ll let Keith tell him in his own time. Just like he'll let the young man stall doing what he actually wants to do.

So instead of pressing his stressed spouse, Lance serves to distract him, swimming with him, basking in the waning sun, shoving his head under the water, getting into splash fights, and not acting at all like the prince he is. Which is fine, because they’re alone, and this is a very short respite before their lives get even more complicated. Taking time to 'mess around' in a small alcove behind a waterfall doesn’t hurt either.

Later, settling back against the rock face to watch Keith float in lazy circles, he finds himself wishing, for the very first time in his life, that he weren’t who he is, and for only the millionth time that he could make every last one of Keith’s days exactly like this one.

Keith swam up to the ledge Lance was sitting on, fitting in between his legs. “You okay?”

“Mhm. Just watching.”

“Ah. See anything you like?” Keith rests his cheek against the inside of Lance’s leg.

“Many things… You’re being very cute.”

“Still riding the high of being mated to you. It’ll wear off in a few quintants.” Keith kisses the bare skin at the inside of his thigh, smirking when Lance jolts.

“Just in time for your season. Brat.”

“Yeah. I can’t seem to catch a break, can I?”

“You know we can change that if you want. And I’ll make it as easy for you as I can.” Lance’s stomach growls audibly, making Keith laugh, nuzzling against Lance’s leg, more sweet than sexy. They’ve been apart, physically, most of the day. He could probably do with some physical affection. The platonic kind.

Lance has caught on to just how important that contact is to Galra. When not working or in uniform, they’re a comparatively clingy species.

“Hungry?” Keith teases when Lance’s stomach growls again.

“I’ve been hungry since before we even got here!” Lance laughs, brushing dripping clumps of hair out of Keith’s face.

“You could have said something. We could have eaten already.”

“Yeah, well. I had better things to do. Like watching my husband have some fun for once.”

“Oh, come on, I have lots of-” Keith frowns. “You never call me your husband. Not unless you have to.”

“Yes, well.” Lance gazes at his husband, eyes soft. “It never really felt like you were. And you think gendering everything is stupid, so…”

“It’s fine.” Keith swims around, hauling himself up to sit beside his mate, cuddling up against his side, tail serving as an extra limb to hold him close. “I mean, if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather call you my mate than anything else. That’s what actually means something to me. That's the word I choose for my life partner. And you should call me whatever means something to you. Whatever that is. Even if that’s just ‘my contracted roommate’.”

Lance laughs. “That’s… incredibly sweet. Sweeter than I expected, honestly.”

“What were you expecting?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps a lecture on the arbitrary constructs of sex and gender?”

“Tempting.” Keith laces their hands together, nuzzling against his pointed ear. He takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly. “But I have something I need to do. I've stalled long enough. Will you come with me?”

“Of course.” If Keith doesn't want to go alone, Lance won't allow him to.

After grabbing a small bag from the den, Keith leads him through the last varga of light before sunset, weaving through trees like he still knows every root beneath his bare feet. BleepBloop eventually finds and joins them on their walk, presumably well-rested after sleeping the entire way there. The small primate remains mostly in the trees, leaping through the branches above, chittering and screeching at Keith to join him.

“We used to use the trees when we were out here,” Keith explains. “It tended to be safer than the ground. And most Alteans don’t tend to look up.”

“They really don’t. To be fair, it's unusual for fully-grown Galra to be hiding in trees. They don't exactly blend in.” The two laugh.

It fades quickly, when they stop at the edge of a ravine, Keith looking down. Without a word, t he Galra begins slipping down the side of the ravine, toward the water at the bottom. He moves with sure, practiced grace, aided further by familiarity with his surroundings, hyper aware of any changes. Lance is not so fortunate, slipping and sliding down the narrow ledges.

At one point, he loses his balance, falling back with a gasp. Fortunately, Keith manages to grab his arm, keeping him from falling to creek twenty dashes below. “You alright?”

“Fine. Just… struggling.” Lance does his best time hide how shaken he is. He can't imagine tiny, undersized Little Keith making this descent.

“Watch my feet. Put yours exactly where I put mine.”

With Keith moving slower, he’s more able to move safely down the side of the ravine. “This is much better. Thank you.”

“Sorry, I didn’t think about it before.” Keith settles his feet into the sandy bottom. “I’ll help you back up… We should have done this earlier. It’ll be dark pretty soon.”

“You weren't ready, earlier. Don't worry. I can make light for us if need be.”

Keith’s not really listening, Lance can tell. Tail swaying, ears pricked, the Galra stares at a pile of rocks, roughly the length of a grown, male Galra, and about two dashes high.

“Is that-”

“Yeah. I was only six, so I couldn’t exactly move him. The rocks kept scavengers off of him. It’s how we’d protect kills if we weren’t ready to clean them.” Keith wades through the shallow creek, ears drooped. “Some of his smaller bones have probably washed away. The rest will too, sooner or later.”

“I’m sorry, beloved.”

“It’s fine. He’d be okay with that. My dad… He loved it out here, feeling like a part of something natural, something alive and thriving, all while minding its own business. This is where he belonged. Becoming a part of it is what he would have wanted anyway. It was me that wasn’t ready.”

Lance has never really thought before about life without his parents. Sure, he’s never had his mother, but he’s grown up with two fathers. Even before Alfor officially remarried when Lance was seven, Coran was his parent. Lance has only ever called him ‘daddy’, and later ‘dad’.

Thinking about it now, Lance can’t imagine losing either of them. Sure, he doesn’t typically get along with Alfor, but Alfor is his father, and the king. He’s an extremely important figure in Lance’s life. And Coran…

Coran, with his permissive attitude and his terrible advice and weird anecdotes and random facts and always being there to soften the blow when Lance screws up- Losing either of them would be devastating. It’s a terrible thing to think about, and it’s Keith’s reality.

So when Keith says he wasn’t ready to let go, Lance says, “I wouldn’t be, either. I don’t know that I ever could be.”

But he'd be ready to be Akira in a heartbeat.

Keith doesn’t respond, very quiet as he finds a bit of dry sand. He pulls a clay bowl, the inside caked in ash, from his bag, pours in the rest of the bag’s contents. A feather. A few different stones. A glass bottle filled with several layers of different colored sediments, which he opens and pours into the bowl. Herbs. Another, smaller bottle of a fragrant oil, which is also poured out.

From his belt, Keith removes a pair of stones, striking them together until he creates a spark. Sitting cross-legged in the wet sand, Keith stares at the low-burning flames. He only has until the flames die before Akira's spirit is finally sent on. Krolia got to convene, and now it's his turn. After this, the gods will take his father away, and nothing but bones will be left.

It's part of the reason he was stalling. This is a final goodbye, and that's always a hard thing.

“Hi, Dad. I kept my promise. I’ve come home…” Keith sighs, looking up at the sky as his eyes immediately start to sting. Lance sits right behind him, rests his cheek on Keith’s shoulder. “But, uh… It’s not really home anymore. I’ve been gone a long time, and- I think it’s okay, don’t you? It’s okay for this to be my sometimes home instead Home home, right? I mean- Fuck, I’m bad at this.”

Lance’s arm curls around his waist from behind, gentle and comforting, just enough for him to know he’s there. “Just talk, beloved. That’s all you have to do.”

“What I’m saying is… You did it. You protected me, and- I survived, because of you. And now, I get to live.” Keith rubs tears into his fur, sniffling. He still really, really misses his dad. Every day, he feels that empty space where Akira used to be. “I have a new home, and a good mate, and we’ll have kits, and a good life, and I hate that you had to die to give me that -

"And it's fine. Everything will be fine. I'll rule Altea with Lance, and help Lotor honor your wishes for Daibazaal, and I'll be a good uncle for his kits, and I'll be a good father, and I'll help keep the peace and you don't have to worry, okay? I'll be just fine. Better than fine, even.

“And that's fine. Really! I just- I just wish you were here. More than anything, I wish you were still here. I miss you so much..." Keith practically falls against Lance, still heartborken. "There are so many things I'll never get to see. I'll never get to see you and Mom together. I'll never get to see you with Lance, or our kits. I'll never get to see you proud of me, and everything that I'm working for. And I know that you are, but I’ll never get to hear you say it and it sucks.”

Keith takes a deep breath. The offering flame is already fading, and with it, his time to convene. “I’m sorry you died, but I’m glad that I’m still here, and I’m grateful to you for that.” The last of the flames gutter out. “I love you and I miss you, Dad. And I’ll see you again. I'll tell you everything you missed.”

They’re left in the dark, Lance wrapping around him, holding him tight.

“Do you- Was it good enough?” Keith croaks, rubbing at his eyes.

“It was perfect, baby. It’s not a speech. It sounded just like you, and that’s good.”

“He was my whole world,” Keith whispers, clutching BleepBloop as the concerned primate climbs into his lap. “And then he was gone.”

“I know, beloved. I know.” Lance rocks them gently. “Are you ready to go back?”

“Can we- Can we stay here for a little bit? Please?”

“However long you want.”

Lance lifts his hands, forming a few tiny werelights to hover above them, pale, gentle light to keep the dark at bay. It’s a good change from being trapped alone in the dark, just Keith and BleepBloop. Now, there’s him, his mate, his pet, and the imprint of his father’s life and legacy. Beyond this little circle, there’s friends and family. A purpose. A home. A future.

A good life, all because of the thing that he lost.

That one, precious, irreplaceable thing.

#LoveAftertheFact #LAtF #klance #galtean au #altean lance #galra keith #adashi #altean adam #galra shiro #voltron legendary defender #vld

[chaoticspacefam]

While I’m slowly wading my way through the OC Masterpost, have some headcanons on how I set up the Sith's views on marriage (and a tiny bit on love, but I can make a whole other post just to elaborate on that tbh so I’m trying not to do it here otherwise it’d be way too long)

Disclaimer: as always, these are my personal lore/headcanons.If you don’t like them, that’s fine, I’m not saying that you can’t make your own, you go do that if you want! If you do like and want to use them, though, you are more than welcome to (some sort of credit/link back is appreciated if you’re using it 100% directly and not y’know, changing it up some!)

Most of these originate from the actual Sith Pureblood species (and by that I mean pre-Valkoriate takeover, a.k.a. Ahaszaai-dynasty too!), but I imagine some of these still “carried over” post-Valkoriate as well. Perhaps not as-is, because hundreds of years of word of mouth + an almost total genocide is bound to mean some info is lost but ya get me right? Long-ish rambly headcanons under the cut. We ready? OK then here we goooo

So, how often do they get married and for what reasons? Is it always political, or is there some love involved? Does it end up being a bit of both? The answer, I’d like to imagine, is it depends on the Sith in question which probably doesn’t clear up much in and of itself so let me explain:

Political marriages are probably very common, y’know to strengthen bonds between particular family lines and/or Spheres of the Dark Council and yadda yadda. Those marriages are more likely to follow rule #2 below because well...that’d be the entire point of the marriage right? BUT genuine, romantic love....That’s something that the Jedi and maybe even a lot of Imperial citizens assume that Purebloods/Sith don’t feel because...that’s kinda how they come across to nearly everyone, especially in public.

And it’s not that they don’t. They do. But a) it takes them a lot longer to get to that point, because that level of deep connection to them isn’t just a fluttery feeling in their chest or even a sense of “home” (it can be both those things, but at it’s core it’s so much more than just that), it’s an all-or-nothing, deeply intense sort of bond that even the Pureblood/Sith themselves has trouble recognising and accepting, because it’s so all-consuming that it’s viscerally TERRIFYING to both parties involved. (in essence, at least)

But assuming that two Sith did marry, what happens then? Who takes who’s name, who gains control of the family’s fleet yadda yadda yadda? So:

1) They marry sort-of in secret, it’s official, but both keep their own/”maiden” (I use the term loosely bc afaik that’s the technical term for it?) names and as far as anyone is concerned, unless they explicitly TELL you they’re married.... They aren’t. Why? For safety; because your enemies (Jedi, other Sith, whatever) cannot use your spouse against you, take them hostage or hurt them to blackmail you, if they don’t know that you have one. Likely, they would tell a few select trusted family members and/or followers, but that’s about it. For example: despite Abaron and Vowrawn being married (likely for a number of decades to a century at least - I need to hammer out their ages in relation to everything still so forgive not having a solid figure), I would say outright that 98, maybe even 99% of the Empire doesn’t have a bloody clue. Abaron is an Ahaszaai in every sense, but never in public and never on the paperwork - as far as they’re all concerned he’s just Abaron, and he just so happens to be one of the Sith Lords that Vowrawn would entrust to be his bodyguard. I imagine next to none of the Dark Council (save for perhaps Darth Marr, I’m concidering it) know they’re even romantically involved much less married. Of the Sith who are left, probably Saarai and Ni’kasi know, and eventually Vano once she works her way into their circle and gains Vowrawn’s trust. Nobody else. Because being aloof and not showing PDA is the best way they can protect each other from being harmed, and they’re both agreed on that. And a lot of people, if they do happen to suspect that something is going on between them (or any other two Sith for that matter) mistake that for being “cold and uncaring” or “not feeling affection”. Aria and Vano eventually, when they marry, double-barrel their surnames. But they too, never drop them in public for the same reason. Vano is always “Wrath”, Aria is always “Canis”. Because even though they’re together all the time, all it looks like to the rest of the Empire (and their enemies) is two allies. Yes, they could still take a shot and potentially use it against them, but the chances of it happening are likely far less than if people were to know they were married for sure.

OR 2) If they do choose to do a name change, whoever has the lowest social status will take their partner’s last name. Whether the people getting married are same-gender, opposite-gender, genderfluid, whatever. Fuck gender norms, there are none. No-one gives a shit what gender you or your partner are, all that matters is who has the most power, the most influence (because even when kids are concerned, they have the technology available to make surrogacy a viable option for those who want to carry on the bloodline and so on). And that person does not, without great debacle (I imagine it’s a great source of drama if it does happen, but most tend to play it safe and just n o t), lower their social status and their influence within the Empire to take on a “commoner’s” name. Most of the time, if the marriage is this public it is either a) political, thus benefiting both of the family lines/Spheres/etc. involved by the entire Empire knowing that they’re officially a thing.  or b) the couple themselves is so confident in the strength of their own powerbase that they are not in the least bit concerned that any enemy or rival can use their marriage against them somehow. Moreso, whoever marries into the higher bloodline will within reason, inherit their spouse’s status and as such, legally, there’s no such thing as “pulling rank” on your spouse...except for matters which concern the entire family (or it’s powerbase and any sub-section of said powerbase) as a whole. In those cases, the Pureblood/Sith who is biologically born of that bloodline has the final say in it; even if it means the husband answering to the wife. Though Kissai took on the Ahaszaai family name and for all intents and purposes became High Lord of the House, D’leah was always the “real” Ahaszaai and she ultimately called all the shots. If she said “jump”, he said “how high”, you get the picture.

That’s not to say that some members would attempt to work their way into a particularly high ranking family so they could take advantage of their social status and that dynamic (Ty’s father, Tsâhis, did to a certain extent, though it wasn’t until after he’d strung Saarai along for a while that he was finally sure she was an Ahaszaai. Had Valkoriate not killed nearly all of the rest of their family and had they continued to be the ruling bloodline he likely would have still gone after Saarai and attempted to gain more power using the Ahaszaai reputation as a sort of...springboard if that makes sense?)

But y’know, as a Sith if you’re going to do this you’d better be prepared and know how to lie and cover it up, because if your spouse or your in-laws find out that you’re trying to undercut them with malicious intent? Well, Sith will be Sith, right? I don’t imagine they take well to “traitors” :’ D

That’s uhhh, the basics?? like I said I have a literal lore document, I have loads more but this is already an info dump and idk if any of y’all are even interested in it so y’know. Testing the waters a lil here to see how this goes?? y’all want more? lol

#swtor #star wars: the old republic #swtor headcanons #subterfuge headcanon #sith pureblood #sith pureblood headcanons #sith marriage #sith relationships #i know the canon says they were kinda tribal before valkoriate #but...i am not doing that #so yeah have this #this is how it works in subterfugeverse instead (and also the zephyrverse that this lore monstrosity actually spawned from) #you're welcome #the masterpost will be done by tomorrow i hope #i just have to get the bio summaries cut down/written as something uhh brief #so that's what's tripping me up atm #i'm sorry i have SO much lore for this verse it's unreal #but i'm excited to share it with yall so hopefully you like it #for reals the (temp) oc masterpost will be up tomorrow #i'm gonna finish it #have this in the meantime #and now i must go to bed bc it's like 1am #oops

[cottontail20]

Love Will Thaw, Chapter 4: A Beautiful Day

Summary: Wanda and Vision face an unexpected event after their marriage.

Ao3 link:https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584529/chapters/54490264

Wanda and Vision arranged their Wedding for late Spring, the weather warm, bordering on hot as they headed towards Summer. They kept the event quite small, just the Avengers, really, and they held it at the Barton Farm, which had so far still remained undiscovered by the paparazzi. This was good. It meant that their day was just for them.

There, in front of those who were most important to them, Wanda and Vision made their vows, and became Husband and Wife.

The Sun had shone, birds were singing. A perfect day. --

It wasn't until a little over a month after the couple had returned from her Honeymoon that Wanda began to realise they may have brought back an unintended souvenir. She hadn't made the connection between all the little signs, because.. Well, mostly because it just wasn't possible, was it?

Nausea that seemed to mysteriously disappear in the afternoon? She must have caught a stomach bug.

Tender breasts? Well, she had been meaning to get a properly fitted bra.

And uh, maybe a certain monthly friend had failed to arrive because she was stressed after months of Wedding Planning.

Except that Wanda wasn't stressed. Living with Vision, being his wife, made her so happy, happier than she had ever been. The only source of stress in Wanda's life was her current set of symptoms that only lead to one, impossible conclusion..

That she was pregnant. For a moment, Wanda had let herself imagine a tiny bundle, half her, and half him. A little miracle.. Then the moment had shattered.

Because she couldn't be pregnant. Vision couldn't get her pregnant.. Could he?

Getting Vision back had been her miracle, and Wanda wasn't sure she deserved another, even after all she had suffered.

Wanda knew Vision was worried about her morning illnesses. How would she explain this to him? What if he thought she'd cheated?

She had to know for sure before she said anything. --

Wanda had Natasha bring her a test, trusting her to be discreet. Told Vision they would be engaging in a bit of girl talk to keep him out of the way for a bit, not that they needed to. He was perfectly happy to stay out working in their garden. He loved helping things grow. Gardening was a pastime that Wanda also usually enjoyed at the moment, mostly because, though Vision could regulate his body temperature, he usually dressed for the weather anyway, meaning he often went without a shirt in the garden.

With Vision happily occupied, Wanda hurried upstairs with Natasha to take the test. Paced nervously as she waited for the results.

Wanda stared at the two little lines with a lump in her throat, not sure whether to smile or cry.

"What am I going to do?" She'd panicked. "This isn't possible. Vision can't.."

"Clearly it is, and he can" said Nat. When Wanda still looked distressed, the Widow's gaze softened. "I understand that this is a bit unexpected, but It's not as bad as you think. Vision loves you. Just tell him. He'll probably be shocked, but.. He'll understand.."

"I hope so.." Wanda sighed. --

When Vision had come in from the garden later, wiping soil from his hands, he was surprised to find Wanda alone.

"Did Natasha leave?" He frowned. "She didn't say goodbye.."

"I think she wanted to give us some time.." said Wanda nervously. One hand rested on her stomach, already protective of the life growing within, despite her stress. "Come sit down, Vizh. I need to tell you something.."

"Is something wrong?" He hurried to sit beside her.

"No. Well, I don't know.. I took a test, and.."

"Are you sick?" Vision immediately panicked, grasping her hand. "You've been so ill in the mornings.."

"No, I'm not sick.." Wanda took a shaky breath. "I.. I'm.."

"Wanda" Vision squeezed her hand. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"I.. I'm Pregnant."

"Oh.." Vision froze, silent for a long moment.

"Vision.." the lump in Wanda's throat returned. "P-Please say something.. I'm sorry, I didn't think this could happen, I.. Mmm.."

Suddenly he was kissing her, silencing her in the same way she had for him on the day he had proposed.

"No. You never say sorry for this."

"I.. I don't?" Wanda's breath caught, because Vision was looking at her the same way he always had, like she was the most wonderful thing in the universe.

"No" said Vision seriously. "You are my miracle, Wanda, you always have been.. This is just another one. I was.. I was just wondering what I'd done to deserve it."

A small smile crossed his face, and Wanda felt herself returning it. She could let herself be happy about this, if he was happy too.

"I've been wondering the same thing.."

"Can I.." Vision whispered, almost shyly reaching for Wanda's stomach.

"Of course" Wanda took Vision's hand, laying it beside her own.

Vision's entire face lit up with the most wonderful, dazzling smile, and he laughed joyously, because even though it was too soon to really feel anything, he still thought he could. Warmth, love, and happiness, flowing from the tiny new life. And Wanda laughed with them, because she could feel it too, and maybe the universe had decided it owed them one more miracle after all. --

And a miracle it remained, because no-one could work out exactly how it happened. The most anyone could guess was that it had something to do with Wanda's role in reviving Vision. She viewed him as more man than machine, so that is what he had become.

As always, Vision was a perfect, if slightly overprotective partner during Wanda's pregnancy. He attended every appointment, including the one where they discovered they were expecting twins, and later when they learned that both babies were boys. Helped decide their names: Thomas and William, aka Tommy and Billy.

Vision tended to Wanda's every need, giving her back and foot rubs, and rushing to the shops at odd hours. This was fine until Winter arrived during Wanda's third trimester. She had not forgotten that bad things happened to them when it was cold.

She would wait anxiously by the door, but thankfully, Vision always returned to her safely. --

It was near freezing the morning Wanda went into labour. The first snow of Winter was forecast for that day, but it hadn't yet arrived by the time Vision rushed her to the hospital. A lot of that time was a blur.

She remembered screaming at Vision, that this was his fault, that she hated him, that he was never touching her again.. None of which she actually meant, and all of which she'd apologised for later, but at the time, Vision had taken her verbal abuse with the same grace with which he handled most situations, simply holding her hand and offering gentle encouragement through the pain.

It felt like she was pushing forever, and then, quite suddenly, a tiny, dark-haired little boy was placed on Wanda's chest, screaming his displeasure at leaving the warmth and safety of his Mother's womb, followed quickly by his brother, whining, a quieter little soul, his tiny hand already grasping the front of Wanda's hospital gown.

"Oh.." Vision whispered, a slight tremble in his voice, "Wanda, they're perfect.."

And they were. Her sons were the most beautiful things she had ever seen. --

Vision followed Tommy and Billy as they were taken for their first bath, and a few tests, allowing Wanda, exhausted from her efforts at bringing their sons into the world, to shower and rest.

When she woke a little while later, Wanda found her Husband staring into the two little cots holding their sleeping twins, seeming rather awestruck. She felt her heart swell, a fond smile spreading over her face, because all three of them were hers. Her boys, her family.

"Hey, Vizh.."

"Hello" His eyes lit up when he saw her awake. "How are you feeling?"

"A little bit sore" Wanda winced slightly as she sat up, "But that will pass. How are our baieti mici?"

"They are sleeping. But a nurse warned me that they will probably wake hungry soon.." Vision glanced back to the tiny sleeping bundles in the cots, his eyes sparkling, clearly still in awe. "They look like me. I can see myself in their faces.."

"Of course they look like you, Vizh. You're their Father."

"I know. I just.. assumed they would look more like you. You are.."

"I'm what?" Wanda frowned.

"You are real, Wanda.." said Vision, "And I.. Well, I've never really been sure whether I was or not. But I must be, I suppose, If I helped make them.."

"Of course you're real" Wanda, ignoring the objection from her exhausted muscles, got out of bed, moving to kiss him. "You're real, and you are mine. A mea. Mine. Okay?"

"Sunt a ta" Vision replied in Wanda's own language, returning her kiss. "I am yours."

"Good" Wanda smiled. Tommy woke then, wailing, demanding to be fed. Wanda scooped him up, and Vision quickly moved to let her have the chair. "Thanks, Vizh.. Okay, om mic, let's see if Mama can work this out.. Whoa, you were hungry, weren't you?"

Billy whined, also hungry, but much less demanding about it. Vision lifted him gently from his cot, holding him close.

"It's alright, it will be your turn soon.." He looked towards the window of their room. The first snowflakes were starting to fall, tiny, perfect, delicate things. He knew it was still cold outside, but that didn't bother him any more. "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"Yes.." Wanda smiled softly, "it is." --

Nearly two years later, Wanda was snuggled asleep in bed Vision holding her, when a tiny hurricane sped into their room, pouncing on them both.

"Mama, Daddy!"

"Oof" Wanda woke with a grunt. "Mmm.. Morning, Tommy.."

"You need to be more careful of Mama, Thomas.." Vision gently scolded the almost two year old.

"Tommy, wait!" Billy pouted, stomping in after his twin and clambering awkwardly onto the bed. "We tell 'gether!"

"Billy slow!" Tommy huffed.

"Be nice to your brother" Wanda told him, smoothing the hair constantly driven wild by his speeding, while Vision helped Billy the rest of the way up. "Uncle Pietro was fast like you, and he was always nice to me."

"'Kay, Mama. I be nice."

"Good" Wanda smiled proudly.

"Now what did you boys want to tell us?" Vision asked.

"Snow ou'side!" said Billy excitedly.

"I see.." Wanda smirked, glancing at Vision. This was the first year their boys would be old enough to understand and appreciate snow, and they'd been telling them all about it.

"We play?" Tommy asked hopefully.

"You'll have to have breakfast first" said Vision.

"And dress up warm" Wanda added. "But yes, then you can play."

"Yay!" Both boys hurried out of the room.

Laughing, Wanda got out of bed, Vision close behind her. She leaned into Vision's side as they followed the twins to the kitchen, smiling when he kissed the top of her head.

Neither one of them had to be afraid anymore.

The cold could be something beautiful, if you had the right person to keep you warm.

Notes:

Translation:

baieti mici: little boys

om mic: little man

#scarlet vision #ScarletVision #Scarlet Witch #wanda maximoff #Vision #vision marvel #vision mcu #wanda x vision #vision x wanda #Minimoffs #Avengers #MCU #fanfic challenge

[takadasaiko]

Love Me Twice: Chapter Ten

FFN II AO3

Summary: Liz re-introduces Tom to her team and Red and Cooper discuss where it's all heading.

Chapter Ten

When Liz had said that her team was a good resource for intel and backup, Jacob had assumed that had meant for her. He could take leads that she passed along and run them down in ways that a federal agent couldn't. He hadn't expected her to walk him into where she worked to speak to her team directly. At a federal black site. Below ground level with limited escape options. None of this was setting well, but she brushed off every argument that he made.

"They know you."

Jacob bristled at that even as he followed her into the lift that would take them down to what she called the War Room. "But I don't know them."

"You don't remember them. There's a difference." The doors squealed closed and she turned towards him. "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you."

"You know my line of work isn't exactly legal," he pointed out.

"They're not going to arrest you either. They know about St Regis."

Jacob turned to stare at her. "You told them?" he demanded.

"I think Reddington did? It just sort of became common knowledge in our circle after you got out and after… well once you and I figured things out."

The doors opened and Jacob fought the urge to run. What good would it do? He was stuck in a black site with a bunch of federal agents that knew he was a covert operative. Despite Liz's optimism, he had no idea how this could end well.

One of those agents looked up from his desk, eyes focused on Liz and started for them, talking the whole way. "Agent Keen! What's the news you couldn't share over… the… Holy crap. Tom?"

"Hey, Aram. Surprise," Liz offered with a struggling smile.

The other agent - Aram - stood there gaping. "How? When? Why didn't you…. you know what. It doesn't matter." Without warning he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Jacob's neck. "You're alive."

Jacob jerked backward at the sudden contact, stiff and ready for a fight. It took a moment for his mind to process that Aram had hugged him. Why a fed was hugging him, he had no idea. All he knew was that he had no interest feeling any more contained than he already was in this place.

"He doesn't remember," Liz explained as Aram startled back, pulling his attention around.

"Doesn't remember… what?"

Liz pursed her lips together thoughtfully, gaze shifting towards the main part of the room. "Let's talk in Cooper's office."

It was surreal as Liz made introductions that her team didn't need. While he only recognized them from the file Tremblay had given him, they knew him. What's more, Aram wasn't the only one that seemed happy to see him. Cooper - an assistant director of the FBI - greeted him with a warm handshake and a promise to both of them to help get to the bottom of all of this. Ressler - one of Liz's partners and the one that had been with her the longest - was more awkward, but managed a quiet "welcome back." The only one without much to say was Park, but as far as Jacob had seen she'd joined the Task Force after his supposed death. She looked as confused by the whole interaction as he felt.

"Have you told Reddington?" Cooper asked, and there was something layered beneath the face value of the question.

"No," Liz murmured, "and for now, I'd like to keep this between us."

"I thought you trusted him," Park popped off.

"It's complicated. He and…. the woman I believed was my mother are locked in some sort of war, and until we find out why, I think my circle of trust extends to the people in this room."

Ressler turned to look at her. "Believed to be? What did I miss?"

"Tom's… employer hired him to protect me and he ran a DNA test on her. It was secure. She matched to Katarina Rostova, but there was no parental match with me."

A quiet settled over the group as they digested the new information before Cooper's gaze landed on Jacob. "The person that hired you must have known who you are."

Jacob pulled in a breath, steadying himself to open up to the feds. "Looks that way. All I have is an alias: Brigitte Tremblay. She's gone dark, though, soon as Liz and I ran across each other. She hadn't returned any of the calls."

"I can trace the number," Aram offered. "Might give us something."

"It's a place to start," Cooper agreed. "Aram, work with Tom to get any information he has that might get us a lead on Brigitte Tremblay. If she's slipped up in any way, I want you to use it to ID her. Ressler, Park, catch Keen up on what we uncovered on The Collector."

Jacob watched as Liz perked up at that. The name obviously meant something to her. "You found something with him?"

Park flashed her a grin. "More than something. It's good."

"Let's go." Liz started out the door, but paused, turning towards Jacob. He must have looked like a deer in the headlights for the way her expression softened and she reached out, her touch against his arm gentle. "I trust them. You can too. I promise."

"I've never known cops to have my back," he confessed softly. "Especially feds."

"Well this fed saved your life a few years ago and you still owe him a favour," Ressler chuckled, halfway out the door. "Don't think I'm not calling it in sooner or later now that you're back."

Liz smiled and let her hand drop. It brushed Jacob's and he felt a shiver pass through him. His fingers started to close, holding her hand there, but in the last second he stopped. She didn't, though, and her fingers closed around his, giving a reassuring squeeze and held his gaze.

"I trust you," he whispered and her lips quirked up.

"Don't let Aram get sidetracked with Doctor Who." One more quick squeeze and she was gone, following her partners out the door and down the stairs.

Jacob turned to Aram. "Like the British scifi show?"

"We totally marathoned the Fourth Doctor one time when we were waiting on some intel to come in a few years ago. There was the one where K-9…" He grinned sheepishly past Jacob at his boss. "Right… We can, uh, cover that some time when we're not trying to find the mystery woman that knows where you've been the last two and a half years. Of course. Just, uh… follow me. We'll get started."

Jacob nodded numbly, not bothering to correct him. He knew where he'd been the last two and a half years. It was the previous ten he was worried about.

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

"Before we get started," Park said as she paused at her work station, turning to look directly at Liz, "did you know? Because last I heard your husband had been brutally stabbed to death in a home invasion that turned out to be Federal Marshall after some secret of Reddington's. Didn't Cooper ID him?"

Liz did her best to push down the instinctive desire to go on the defensive at Park's tone. "I found out the night before last. He's been… trying to come to terms with the fact that he was married… had a family and a life that he doesn't even remember."

"Sounds rough."

"It has been. And yes, Cooper ID'd him."

"Not just that, but we all saw him flatline," Ressler pointed out. "Hell of an accomplishment to fake all of that."

"It is, but we've seen doubles before. Sinclair manages it pretty convincingly. Tom told me about a Russian-based program he came across during his time with Halcyon that surgically altered people to look like their targets. It does happen."

She didn't like the look Ressler gave her, almost like he thought she was stretching it.

"Yeah, but who would have those kinds of connections and resources to put it together so fast?" Park asked, shaking her head.

That, Liz had an answer to. One that had been battering around inside her mind since she saw Tom hanging in Katarina Rostova's warehouse, but she hadn't dared to admit out loud yet. "Scottie Hargrave."

Ressler blinked at that. "Tom's mom? Why would she?"

Liz risked a glance over to make sure Tom was distracted with Aram. "She has means and motive."

Ressler didn't look convinced. "Motive for faking his death?"

"If she thought it kept him safe, yeah. I could see it. She thrives on control and there was something…. strangely resolved when she took Agnes a coupe of years ago. She said she'd already mourned him once. I didn't… catch it then, but it was weird."

"That's screwed up," Park managed and Ressler snorted.

"Welcome to the Keen family drama."

Liz shook her head, unable to deny the statement. "Tell me what you guys found on the Collector."

Park lit up at that. "Michael Kowlaski was actually Viktor Petrov. While his paperwork says that he was American-born to Polish immigrants, the identity for Michael Kowlaski was farmed. All the paperwork, the credit history, everything was manufactured."

"Like a shelf company for a person," Liz murmured and Park nodded.

"Exactly like that."

"How did we get to the name Petrov?"

"Aram worked through the night going through photos linked to the Kowlaski ID," Ressler explained. "Cooper recognized one and was able to confirm that it was actually Victor Petrov, a KGB officer known for his intelligence work. Everything started to fall into place."

Liz leaned back against Park's desk. "Okay, so we've got the who and the why -"

"You mentioned that in the debrief," Park said. "The Sikorsky Archive. Petrov's last words. Do you know what it means?"

"All I know is what I've been told. It's a blackmail file that the woman that posed as my mother says she's being blamed for stealing and that she thinks Reddington knows who really has it."

"So another dead end?"

"No… maybe not. I had a PI follow Ilya Koslov -"

"Not Reddington, by the way," Ressler offered and Liz tried to ignore Park's confused look.

"- and she found that Koslov was obsessed with the Archive."

"So he's our next best lead?" Park asked, shaking the confusion from her expression.

"Seems to be." Liz closed her eyes, working through the pieces of the puzzle that made up this case. It was huge. Expansive. Pieces looked like they'd fit and then were part of a completely different puzzle altogether. This, though… she thought they were onto something with this. "The Collector always has two demands: a new secret to carry on and a favour. I know we recovered a jumpdrive on him. Has Aram cracked that yet?"

Ressler shook his head. "He's still working on it, but I think that's what had him here all night. His program's cracked pieces."

"It's German… Something about Bonn, but other than that, we don't know yet," Park agreed.

Liz risked another glance over to Aram and Tom, the tech genius looking like he was in the middle of a long-winded explanation of something that probably could have been said a fraction of the words he was using. Tom, to his credit, was patiently nodding along that he was following. The two had always gotten along well, so it was good to see that even with his missing memories Tom was able and willing to listen through.

"Then I say we focus on Ilya," Liz finally said.

Ressler quirked a ginger eyebrow. "Hasn't he gone into hiding?"

"We'll find him," Liz answered confidently. "We have to."

Park shifted where she was. "If Rostova isn't your mother and Reddington isn't… whatever the latest thing you thought he was… why?"

Liz pursed her lips, working through each word as she let them fall. "Because Reddington used us to get to here. He used us to get to The Collector to kill him. He tried to steer me away from this woman, but he never gave me a clear reason why. He uses us, and just once, I'd like to have more pieces of the puzzle than he does."

There was a moment of silence between the three partners before Ressler nodded. "Okay. Let's find Koslov."

"Uh, guys?" Aram called over. "Mr Cooper just called down. Mr Reddington is supposed to be coming by with intel on The Collector. I know you said…"

"Guess that's my queue to leave," Tom said and his gaze shifted around to Liz. "How about this: give me a lead to track down on this Koslov guy and I'll start in on the groundwork."

"Tom…"

He gave her a small, lopsided smile. "I promise I'll come back. Here, gimme your phone?" He reached a hand out and she held it out to him. He punched in a number. "Saved just above the pizza delivery guy."

Liz found herself echoing the smile. "Good. Let's get you out of here."

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

They walked a thin line with Reddington. That wasn't new, and for the most part Cooper had reconciled himself to it. There was give and take. He gave them terrible people that needed to be taken off the streets and that they wouldn't have had access to without him. In return, he took what he wanted. Sometimes it was a piece of information or access, and then sometimes the price was higher. Sometimes he used them in ways that Cooper found very difficult to see as anything but a betrayal to the very woman that Reddington had surrendered himself for. His actions had forced her into more compromising positions, put people she loved at risk, and consistently left her in the dark on issues that directly affected her without even a hope that he'd reveal the answers to her someday.

Despite all Reddington had done - and for every veiled motive, every secret he had kept about Elizabeth's past, he had quite literally saved her life and career time and time again - Cooper couldn't blame Elizabeth for not wanting to offer up the fact that Tom was alive. Reddington's secrets had, they had thought, cost her husband his life two and a half years before. He was alive, but far from whole, and her wish to protect him from the chaos that Reddington brought into her life was understandable. It was the reason that Cooper had given them a good headstart before calling Reddington into the Post Office.

Reddington didn't like being summoned, that much was clear. He helped them at his leisure and on his terms, despite the fact that, theoretically, he worked for them, but that afternoon Cooper had no patience for his antics. He'd used them to lure a Blacklister out and, when Cooper had refused to hand him over blindly, Reddington had had him shot down in the street.

It was nearly time for Cooper to pack it up and call it a night when Reddington finally strolled into the Post Office with a reminder that he's not at the FBI's beck and call, even though his immunity agreement did have some wording that leaned heavily in that direction. He continued on and on, casually taking a seat across from Cooper with his hat in his hand and Dembe lingering at the door. Cooper lost track of exactly what the point of the story was, but it had something to do with a woman from Beijing that he'd met while smuggling political refugees out of the country. By the time the story wound down, Cooper had already had to send Charlene an apologetic text and a promise to pick up dinner of her choosing on his way home.

"I'm sorry, Harold, was there a reason you called me in when I should be at Marcel's having the most exquisite Lobster Timbale that I've ever tasted?"

"Victor Petrov," Cooper said simply, not bothering to point out that if Reddington had come when he'd called that he could have been out long before his reservations.

"Ah," their often complicated CI managed. "You've put a name to the legend."

"I'm not going to waste both our times asking you exactly what you thought you'd keep Elizabeth from finding out about her mother," he stated firmly, "but I do need to know what Petrov was trying to move through Mr Krause. Aram's working on the encryption, but so far we've only gotten pieces. You said that Petrov was connected to the Cabal."

"He was," Reddington answered, his voice serious now.

"I'm not a fool. We may have decimated their stronghold in the United States, but my guess is that they have a further reach. You handed us this Blacklister and so far, without details of what was being transferred, we've gotten nothing from it other than a dead former KGB operative and another dead end." He paused, taking a risk. "Does Bonn mean anything to you?"

"Is that Krause's final destination?"

"We believe so."

Reddington tilted his head to the side and Cooper straightened his spine. He was already asking for less than they'd been promised on this. Finally, the other man relented. "I already suspected that Petrov had re-aligned himself with his old allies in the Cabal. If he's orchestrating deliveries to Bonn, then it's not just a smaller faction he's trying to reach out to."

"How many factions are you aware of?"

Reddington sighed, and for a moment Cooper thought he was going to try to slip around this. Apparently it wasn't worth the effort. "Originally? Many, but there were key players housed in the United States, Russia, China, and two in Germany: one for the East and another for the West."

"So Petrov was trying to make contact with one of the factions in Germany?"

"There's only one left. With the fall of communism in Germany, the Cabal lost its foothold in Berlin. Bonn is all that's left, but Harold -" he caught Cooper's gaze and held it, and in that moment his voice was deadly serious - "if this is more than an attempt to make contact, if the faction in Bonn is using someone like Petrov to move information Stateside, this is bigger than either of us could have assumed."

"Perhaps you shouldn't have killed the man with the answers then."

"What's done is done. Aram mustcrack that encryption and he must do so quickly."

"Or what?"

"If we wait to find out, it will already be too late."

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

TBC

Notes: ** insert dramatic music here **  

I feel bad for poor Tom right now. Everybody in this story knows more than him and he's just not okay with that.

Next Time: When Tom's search for Ilya continues to run into dead ends, Liz takes matters into her own hands.

#the blacklist #Tom Keen #Elizabeth Keen #Raymond Reddington #Harold Cooper #Donald Ressler #Aram Mojtabai #Alina Park

[theatresweetheart]

Sick and Sleepless

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Summary: Virgil gets food poisoning and Logan is quick to help him through it.

Warnings: Food poisoning, non-descriptive vomit, swearing, sickness, medicine, incredibly brief food mention. (If I missed anything, please let me know.)

Pairings: Romantic/Parental Analogical, Familial Logicality, Brief Familial Moxiety

Word Count: 4816 words

A/n: This was more of a fun little vent write and I’ve had it sitting in my drafts for quite a while. Totally not self projecting onto Virgil. And I’m totally not salty that I didn’t have a partner to help me through it.

Enjoy!

Taglist: @isle-of-gold

                                        +~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

Waking up to the sound of wheezing at 2:30 in the morning wasn’t exactly the way Logan had planned his Saturday starting.

The bed would shake for a moment, before it would still again. This repeated movement continued a couple times, before it would still once more.

As he laid on his side facing away from his partner, he did turn his head just enough to see the form over his shoulder. The way his shoulders would jerk and tremble, just as the bed did.

The room was quiet for a moment after that and he thought maybe everything was okay. His thoughts were shattered when the low cursing started, quickly followed by a cough that seemed to be muffled behind hands.

He knew that something was up, but figuring out what would take a little bit more than just coughing.

The bed moved as his husband did and the blankets were pushed to the side, slightly letting the cold air of the bedroom hit everywhere he wasn’t clothed. He twisted to lay comfortably on his back, watching as Virgil pushed himself up from the bed and slowly made his way to the washroom connected to their bedroom, his arm locked around his middle the entire time.

It did raise some questions and a protective instinct flared in his chest.

The door was shut before the light inside was flicked on. He winced a bit seeing the brightness from underneath the door, before sitting up himself. Rubbing his hands down his face, he then let them push his hair back and resting on the nape of his neck.

A sigh escaped him. Even when he thought everything was going to be alright and Virgil would be able to return to bed soon, the sound of retching in the bathroom punctuated just how wrong he was.

Was it the flu? A cold? He wasn’t really sure and until he was able to ask some questions, Logan was just going to have to guess.

Reaching over to the bedside table, he searched blindly for his glasses before slipping them onto his face. The room was still dark, but it wasn’t nearly as blurry as it had been.

He pushed the blankets off of himself, yanked down his night shirt—as it had been pulled up sometime throughout the night—and shuffled towards the washroom door. He was honestly exhausted. He had unfortunately gotten to bed late that night because their kids had kept him up and then he had spent another hour or so reading, trying to tire himself out.

It took a moment, but Logan raised a hand and knocked against the door gently enough not to startle the male inside. “Virgil?” He called, laying a hand on the doorknob and twisting it slightly. “Are you alright?”

As he started to open the door and there was no voice telling him to stop, he creaked it open the rest of the way and peered inside.

Virgil was hunched over the toilet, his head in his hands as he just breathed in and out. He looked tired and cold, but also as if he were overheating at the same time. When he heard the first few footsteps enter the washroom, his attention shifted to look towards Logan, and then there was such a pitifully sad expression.

The answer to his question obviously didn’t need to be vocal. Logan could see it on his features clear as day. The pale face and the damp forehead. He was probably sick. But what had done it? He had been fine when they had gone to bed those few hours ago.

Logan stepped forwards before dropping to his knees and laying a hand against his husband’s back, rubbing a soothing circle. “Do you want me to get some water?” Possibly some Advil as well to help him get back to sleep.

He could see just how tightly Virgil was holding onto the edges of the porcelain throne, as his knuckles were nearly a pure white.

Definitely will need Advil if he’s hurting.

He was answered with a nod just as he leaned back over the toilet and heaving whatever was left.

He winced, more in sympathy than anything. “I’ll be right back.”

It wasn’t very often that either one of them got sick. It was more either Roman or Patton and even then, the two kids barely let their fathers leave them. It was a comfort thing, he assumed.

Leaving the washroom, he left the bedroom altogether. He was careful when he passed the boys’ bedroom, really not wanting to have either of them wake up at this time of night, knowing how impossible it was to get either of them back to sleep.

If they were to wake, and found out about Virgil’s current state, it would be more than likely that they would try and help, whether they would actually be helpful or not.

The quiet of the kitchen held as he moved around with a practiced precision. Knowing exactly where the cups were, even in the darkness. There was a little night sneaking from the streetlamp just outside the house, but it wasn’t enough to really give him a full look of the kitchen.

After getting some cold water from the tap, he went to the medicine cabinet and began to dig through everything they had. Pain killers, medicines, cough syrups, gummies, vitamins.

Logan worked quickly, picking the Advil out of the bunch and taking two pills from the pack. Everything was set back into its place before it was replaced in the cabinet.

With the glass of water in one hand and the pills in the other, he was able to nudge the door open with his foot before closing it again. The bathroom light was still on and when he returned, Virgil was still hanging onto the seat like it was a lifeline. He hadn’t moved positions, Logan noted silently, before resuming his own after getting back down onto his knees.

Being there didn’t bother him so much as it did Virgil probably. This was just normal, well not normal as in a day to day basis, bodily functions. There was nothing wrong with being sick, you usually couldn’t stop in anyways unless you catch it just in time.

A few more minutes passed as his partner hurled, before he sat back on his haunches, letting his head rest against his forearms.

“Before that starts up again, drink some water and replenish yourself,” he offered the glass out, but Virgil made no move to grab for it. Which was worrying. Logan shifted a bit closer, before setting the glass down on the tile and resting a hand on his shoulder. “How do you feel?”

“Shitty,” he groaned, turning his head just enough to see his partner. There was that sad look again. “Go back to bed Logan, I can deal with this. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine if you’re throwing up,” was his answer. “Do you think it’s a stomach flu?”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders. “I felt fine going to bed, I don’t know where this is coming from.”

Which made him think. As he turned back to hurl, Logan’s mind wandered. What had they done in the past couple of days for this to have happened? Had he touched something and then had those germs transferred? It didn’t really sound too logical, but it would make sense if that’s what happened. Or perhaps this was the first of the illness that would sweep through the household in time, which meant that cleaning everything would be a good idea.

But he felt like there was something missing. Something that he wasn’t picking up on. It felt like it was blatantly obvious.

Yesterday had been a good day, at least up until this point. It had been their nine year wedding anniversary.

So, he ran through the previous day.

The morning had started like any other morning. They had made breakfast, got Patton and Roman to school without too much hassle, though they did need to convince Roman to leave his foam sword in the car as that wasn’t acceptable at school. There had been a bit of a fit about it, but he had eventually listened.

Then Logan and Virgil went home, made some coffee and sat on the porch recliner and relaxed. Chatted about what they were going to do to celebrate that night. For the most part, both of them had been more than content to stay home and spend their anniversary with their kids.

Picked the kids up from school after 3.

After deciding that they would be going out for dinner, they weren’t able to get the boys a babysitter—that and they wanted to be there when their parents got to celebrate or else they would feel left out. At least, that’s what Patton had said—and ended up going to a family friendly restaurant. Though, having the kids there actually made it more special.

That’s when it clicked. “Food poisoning,” Logan spoke his mind, a gentle hand resting on Virgil’s back as he trembled. “You must have gotten sick from dinner last night.”

Virgil tossed his head back, groaning in agony. “Fucking great.”

Well, he could sympathize with the unhappiness, but there was also a point in time where they needed to accept that this was happening and then just deal with it as it came and went.

They went through a few more rounds of Virgil leaning forwards and throwing up and Logan never left his side. But after sitting a little while and nothing had happened, Logan deemed it safe enough to return to bed.

His hand stayed on Virgil’s lower back, however. “Feeling any better?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, “just tired.”

“Alright.”

He took a few extra minutes, helping his husband clean himself up before making sure he took the medicine and then assisting him back to bed.

Logan took a bit more time when it came to cleaning up the bathroom, at least putting everything back in it’s place before flicking the light out. He had grabbed the trashcan from the bathroom and a clean bag from underneath the sink and set it on Virgil’s side of the bed, before moving to his own and getting under the covers once more.

After removing his glasses and setting them back on the bedside table, he settled back against the pillows, tuned into the soft noises his partner was making. Not that he was meaning to listen, but it was hard not to in the silence of the bedroom. The most noise that would be heard would maybe be a car passing outside their window at such an ungodly hour but even then, that was a faint sound.

So, he rolled over onto his side and let an arm rest gently around Virgil’s middle, allowing for a place to feel a bit safer and offer more comfort if needed. It took a moment, but his husband relaxed into his arms and Virgil’s back was pressed directly up against his chest.

It wasn’t that that he needed to be babied necessarily, but there was that instinct again.

That protective instinct that he had never really felt for another person before. Felt it for himself, yes. Self preservation of course. He hadn’t felt it towards another person until he had first met Virgil in their second year of high school.

Then the instinct had never seemed to leave and had, indeed, followed him not only into his married life, but into fatherhood as well. Which was arguably the best time to have it. Especially when both of their boys managed to get themselves into trouble time and time again. It was a never ending cycle of mischief and shenanigans.

While Patton and Roman were very much worth it, sometimes it got tiring. The two adults usually retired to bed exhausted.

He felt Virgil’s breathing slow down until it was a steady rhythm, showing that he had finally fallen asleep and Logan was left alone to his thoughts. While he was tired, there was just something that was keeping him up.

Perhaps it was all the thoughts that refused to leave him alone.

The sound of a door opening and closing down the hallway caught his attention and he sighed.

Or perhaps it was the fact that one of his children—or God forbid both of them—was now awake.

Wonderful.

The handle to their bedroom door jiggled and Logan’s attention shifted to watch as the door was cracked open. It was obvious that whichever one was doing it was trying to be as quiet and careful as they possibly could. The soft light of the hallway filtered into the room, just enough to illuminate the silhouette of one figure.

It took a moment, but the figure slipped into the room after moving between the slight opening in the door and shutting it silently as he could behind him.

This night just kept getting better and better, didn’t it?

The sound of bare feet quietly pattering against the wooden floors caught his attention next.

“Dad?”

And that was Patton.

There was silence for a moment. When there wasn’t so much of a movement from Virgil’s side of the bed, Logan knew that he was next. It took a second, but just as he predicted, the sound of clothing shifting was now closer to his own side of the bed.

“Papa?” Patton tried again, he could hear the worry clear as day in the young voice and Logan sighed.

Releasing his arm from around Virgil’s middle, he rolled onto his back before turning his head just enough to see the form of his oldest son. “What’s the matter, Patton?”

He watched as the little boy seemed to shuffle nervously on the balls of his feet, rocking back and forth. “I-I heard—” He took a breath, dropping his eyes to the ground, unable to hold Logan’s gaze. It was obvious he felt bad for getting up this late and waking, at least he thought he was, Logan up. “I just wanted to…”

“Make sure Dad was alright?” He prompted after a moment, seeing the startled look cross his features, before a gentle nod. He kept his voice low enough so that he wouldn’t disturb the delicate sleep Virgil had finally fallen into. Logan pushed himself up onto his elbows before checking the time. 3:06 am. “He’s just a little sick right now, but he’ll be okay.”

While he was a bit irritated that Patton was awake at this time of night and that when he had just been drifting off he had been woken up again, he couldn’t really let it show. The boy was emotional and when he felt something, he felt it hard.

He watched as Patton gave the tiniest nod in response, before using a hand to rub at his eyes. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”

And there was the sound of emotion building. He could hear it clear as bells.

Logan needed to dissuade the situation. “No, that’s alright,” he rubbed a hand down his face before reaching over and grabbing his glasses for the second time that night. “Is Roman awake too?”

Patton shook his head. “Just me.”

“Alright,” he took that answer in stride before eventually sitting up completely and turning his attention to the young boy looking up at him with such sad brown eyes. Distressed and concerned. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

“B-but …”

“No buts, Patton, it’s too late for you to be awake,” and he was staying firm in that. The latest he ever let the boys stay up was just after midnight and that was to celebrate New Years. A normal sleep schedule is very important, especially for growing children. Though, trying to explain the importance at this time of night and he wouldn’t be listened to. With some resistance, he moved to get up.

Only before a hand on his wrist stopped him. He turned to look over his shoulder and Virgil was peering at him through half-lidded eyes, the grasp on his wrist wasn’t to keep him in place, but a plead. Stay, was in his face, but the soundless whisper on his mouth was what was heard.

His attention flickered between his husband and his son, both looking so helpless. He almost didn’t know what to do with it.

The moment was soft, but the mood was ruined almost instantly when Virgil jolted and grasped for the trash can that had been set by his side of the bed and heaved into it.

A gentle gasp escaped Patton.

It wasn’t very often that the boys saw their parents ill. Both Logan and Virgil made sure that they didn’t. They could usually keep Roman and Patton away from their bedroom when the other parent was sick. However, there wasn’t much Logan could do at this point.

So, he got up and moved past Patton before kneeling on the ground in front of his husband. The glass of water, he realized belatedly, was still in the washroom on the counter. He watched as emotions flickered over the kid’s features, he was obviously unsure of how to react because it was always the other way around. When he got sick, it was always his dads taking care of him.

Seeing his Dad sick was startling and Logan could see that on his features. So, he waved Patton over.

After a minute of hesitance, he came over, his eyes never leaving the form of his dad hunched over on the bed.

“I want you to head to bed, okay?” Logan instructed him. “I can come and tuck you back in after Dad’s feeling a bit better.”

“I want to help,” Patton spoke up, eyes wide and watering.

The sound of another retch filled the bedroom and Logan winced a bit, Patton remained almost completely unfazed. Determination flickered over his features.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Logan told him, a hand moving to rest on Patton’s shoulder, trying not to let that sad look hit him too hard. It really shouldn’t in the long run either, he had been faced with many disappointed expressions and nothing had ever fazed him. But his children were almost always different cases.

The small whine that that statement created made him sigh gently.

Patton was a gentle soul, empathetic and caring, sometimes to the point where it may be physically draining. He had seen the boy helping other kids on the playground if they got hurt, or talking to them happily if their friends were ignoring them. He was the voice of reason, even at such a young age.

So, when Patton turned his attention back onto Logan, he could see that getting the kid back to bed before his father was feeling better was going to be a bit more of a fight than he anticipated.

That and he really didn’t want to deal with this at this time of night.

So, he relented and let the boy stay for a little while longer.

A few rounds of Virgil emptying his stomach passed again before he was rolling onto his back and breathing heavily.

“Patton, go get the water from the bathroom. The glass is on the counter.” His instruction was met with a nod and the boy was off, flicking the bathroom light on.

Logan instead laid a hand against Virgil’s forehead, feeling a fever slowly beginning to rise. Which meant a cold cloth would help keep the temperature down, at least for now.

When Patton returned with the glass, he placed it on the bedside table, before looking sadly towards his sick parent. That look of sadness was turned back onto Logan.

In all honesty, Logan knew how Patton felt. He felt helpless in this situation and, really, the both of them were. There was only so much either could do and he’d have to let the fever come down on its own. There wasn’t really anything to fret about, but that didn’t stop the seed of worry from gnawing at him.

“Alright kiddo, I think you’ve been up long enough,” Logan finally instructed, causing Patton’s eyes to widen and a quick shake of his head. The boy was answered with a nod of the adult’s head. “Yes. I think it’s time you get back to bed.”

He could only thank God that it was Saturday tomorrow. If there had been school, Logan wouldn’t have let Patton stay nearly as long. If anything, he would have picked the kid right back up at the first sign of resistance and taken him directly back to his bedroom.

“I want to help,” he tried again, using the same prompt as before.

Logan reached forwards and grabbed Patton by the hands, lowering his tone as he heard Virgil groan a bit. “I know you do and you’ve done a lot of helping, but it’s really late now,” he reasoned. “You’re going to be really tired tomorrow if you don’t get back to bed.”

It took only a moment, but then there was that pout. The one that would usually make his resolve waver. Not right now. He had already done enough wavering tonight.

“Don’t start with the pouting, it’s bedtime and I’m not changing my mind on that. I’ve already let you stay up this late. You need sleep just like your dad and I do.”

Patton turned to look over his shoulder. Seeing his dad in such a sickly state—so tired—hurt. When he turned back to Logan, he pushed his glasses back up before finally nodding.

“Okay.”

Satisfactory. “C’mon, then, up we go.” It took Logan no time at all to pick the boy up, but when he started to squirm, that’s when he needed to tighten his hold a little bit more.

“No, wait, Papa,” he pushed at his father’s chest, trying to get out of his arms as best he could, “I wanna say goodnight.”

Well, he couldn’t really take that wish away from him. So, he set Patton back down on his feet and the boy quickly went right over to Virgil’s bedside. “Dad?”

“Patton—”

“Yeah, Pat?” It took a moment, but Virgil was looking at his son, and Patton beamed at the attention, but the happiness fell almost instantly when he registered the pain behind his eyes.

“G-goodnight Dad.” It was easy to hear the waterworks building behind his voice and it was only a matter of time before there were tears. “I love you.”

A gentle smile spread across Virgil’s face and he grasped Patton by the hand gently, giving a light squeeze. “I love you too.”

He sucked in a gentle breath, trying to fight back the urge to cry and he leaned forwards, and very carefully hugged his dad. He needed to be careful, not wanting to be the cause of any discomfort.

Patton then pulled away and went back to seek some refuge with Logan, who picked him back up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he voiced his plan.

“Mhmm,” was the response he got back.

As soon as Logan had stepped foot outside of the bedroom and shut the door behind him, a small gasp caught his attention before he felt wetness against his shoulder, soaking through his night shirt. He sighed a little bit, but said nothing as Patton’s hands tightened in the back of his shirt. He knew that he couldn’t bring the kid back to his room when he was this visibly upset. The sound would wake Roman and he didn’t need two kids awake.

So, instead, he carried the boy into the living room with him and took a seat into the big reading chair in the corner and just let Patton cry it out on his shoulder.

Withholding emotions, as he knew, would only cause more trouble in the long run, so it was better now that he was getting it out.

He let a hand stroke up and down the heaving back, the cries were quiet, but still very much there. The hiccups and the sobs and the breaths in and out, in and out, in and out, in an unsteady and quivering pattern.

No, Logan still wasn’t great with emotions or helping someone through something like this, but he did know enough. Most of his experience came from helping Virgil through panic attacks. Logan’s mothers were much better when it came to emotional support.

“Are you alright?” He asked, when he finally heard the sobs quieting down a bit more.

Patton nodded his head a little bit, pulling away from the tight embrace. Logan took it upon himself to pull Patton’s glasses off, setting them on the armrest of the chair, before using the hem of his own shirt to wipe the tears away. A look of concern never left his face.

“M’sorry,” he sniffled, blinking the tears from his lashes.

Logan only shook his head. “Don’t apologize. It’s alright.” And it really was.

After he had helped clean the boy up a bit more, he watched as Patton leaned into his soothing touch and there was something deep in his chest that said this was good. The warmth in his core said that this was really what fatherhood was.

Patton hiccuped after a moment, before letting his eyes slip shut and he leaned against his father comfortably.

Logan kept the steady motions moving up and down his back until he was positive that Patton was finally asleep.

He let a noise of relief escape him before he slowly stood up, adjusting the kid so he was holding him bridal style, his head lent against his chest. He snatched the glasses off of the armrest as an afterthought and carried the boy back to his bedroom.

He nudged the door open, double checking that Roman was still sound asleep and to his luck, he was. He took lighter footsteps through the bedroom and laid Patton down into his bed. The glasses set into their case on the bedside table.

He brushed the curls away from his forehead, a fond look crossed his features before he tucked his son back into bed.

Which left him with the task of sneaking back out unnoticed. It took a little bit, but he managed to do it within five minutes. He had frozen a bit when Roman had shifted on his bed, but nothing had come of it and he had made it out.

Logan went back to the kitchen, grabbed a cloth and turned the tap on to run some cool water over it. His eyes read the clock on the wall: 4:10 am.

He rubbed his own eyes before squeezing out the excess water and carrying the damp cloth back to their bedroom. The door was shut and he flicked the bathroom light back off. Logan pulled his own glasses off before crawling into bed.

The steady breathing from his partner said that he was still semi-awake. So, he moved a bit closer and accepted Virgil back into his arms, but made sure that the cool cloth had been placed in a spot where it would do some good. Virgil had winced at it at first, but sighed soon afterwards.

Finally, after all of that commotion, he was able to settle down with his loved one, even as sick as he was. They were there together and that’s what mattered the most.

Logan had one arm under Virgil’s neck, the other rested over his middle, but light enough to keep from applying pressure. His partner’s hands were clung onto the one over him. He needed to keep him on his back for a little while, enough to help cool him down. After that it didn’t matter too much.

“Th-thanks, Lo,” Virgil croaked out, it was obvious his throat was sore.

Tea with honey should soothe it, if he can keep anything down at all, he made a mental note for the morning.

Logan let his hand move to rest gently in Virgil’s hair, before playing with a strand absentmindedly. He felt the tense body relax further against him and a gentle smile spread across his features at the trusting motion. He knew what Virgil liked and he knew how to relax him.

He had done the same motion many times before. When his husband came home from work after having a bad day, or when he was stressed out.

Logan knew how to make Virgil relax and give into the loving embrace of his partner. While their relationship was touch heavy, it was also very spacious and understanding.

But right now, he needed that closeness and Logan would provide the comfort and shelter that he craved.

He always would.

“Of course, Virgil,” he promised him quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to the temple closest to him. “Anything for you.”

#Brook writes #My writing #Sanders Sides #Analogical #Romantic Analogical #Parental analogical #Logan Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Patton Sanders #Roman Sanders #Child!Roman #Child!Patton #Dad!Logan #Dad!Virgil #familial royality #familial prinxiety #familial logicality #tw sickness #tw vomit #tw swearing #familial moxiety #tw medicine #food mention #tw food poisoning #tw illness #human!Sides AU #TS Sides #TS #TSSides

[holylulusworld]

The new boss in town

Request: Would you please write for Bucky & reader, wherein he’s in love with Natasha but is forced to marry reader, he’s never home ignores her even when she tries hard. She even has to work as a waitress for money, one-night Brock tries to rape her, Steve arrives just in time and saves her. They become good friends. It’s on you if you want her to stay with Bucky or get married to Steve. It could be an au where they are not Avengers.

Pairing: Mobster!Bucky x Mobster!Reader, Mobster!Steve x Mobster!Reader, Thor Odinson, Dr. Cho

Warnings: angst, mafia business, injured Bucky, arguments, language, smut, unprotected sex, hair pulling, possessive Bucky, love triangle

Consolation Bride Masterlist

The days after Arianna attacked you were a blur. You had to check on Bucky who was in an artificial coma to recover.

Every day you spent with ‘your’ men and every night you spent at the hospital, watching over Bucky.

Steve was with you every day too. He almost clung to you and you must admit you got closer. It happened subconsciously but now you are in too deep.

Sam helped you preparing the burial for your father. You fulfilled all his wishes, Steve was by your side the whole time, holding your hand.

Now you are in your father’s office, looking through his papers as you debate to watch the video he left for you as his last will.

“You should watch it, boss.” Thor, one of your father’s best men rumbles. He was always kind and he’s one of the few being loyal to you after your father’s death. Many men just left, telling you or rather Sam they won’t work for a chick.

“You’re right, Thor. I just don’t know if I can face him yet. I hated him for most of my life, but he protected me. He kept me safe.” Your eyes water but you blink the tears away, pressing play to watch the video.

Your father seems to be nervous and you wonder why. You never saw him like that before. Thor’s hand squeezes your shoulder tightly, to make sure you know that at least he is on your side.

“Dear daughter…no…Y/N. I know life wasn’t always easy by my side. First I need to tell you I always loved you and your mom. After her death, I realized I need to make things up to you. I tried to do so by telling Bucky to marry you. I swear I thought he still loves you, that his behavior is only a game he plays to make sure I do not harm him or you. It wasn’t me telling Mark’s father Bucky killed his son. I swear on your mother’s grave, Poppy…”

Your father clears his throat, wiping away a few tears before he points toward the bookshelf behind him. 

“You still got the necklace of your mom – right?”

Glancing at the chain around your neck you nod, as if your father could see the motion. He’s smiling, knowing you looked down at the necklace right now.

“Good. Use the key hanging from the chain after your removed Tolstoy’s ‘A Confession’. A door will open, and you find everything you need to take over my empire and bring Arianna and her family down. I know Bucky didn’t go easy on you, believing I’m responsible for his brother’s death and I’m sorry but I had to make sure you don’t fall victim to Mark’s family. If you listen to my words now I’m dead and I pray you are safe, Poppy. Please don’t trust anyone but Steve, Bucky, and Thor. I know you will hate me but please call Bruce Banner…he’s one of my men too.”

“Son of a bitch!” Cursing you stop the video shaking your head. “Is everyone in my life a mobster?”

“Y/N, he asked Bruce to take care of you, to make sure you are safe and earn enough money to survive. Your father wanted to talk to James but then Brock attacked you and before he could clarify a few things Arianna happened. I’m sorry, I failed to protect your father.” Thor sighs heavily, guilt-ridden he glances at the TV.

“You weren’t around, Thor. Father sent you away.” 

“I know…”

Pressing play, you hold back more tears while your father tells you how much he loved you and your mother. That her death is still a mystery but that he assumes it was part of Arianna’s plan to bring you back home.

“I’ve got no proof, Poppy but I believe Mark’s father got to know I helped Bucky that night and that his brother was involved too. The only thing he didn’t know was that James killed Mark to protect you. I know it’s much to ask for but please take over my empire. Be what you always should’ve been, my heir, Poppy. All the things you learned in France, use it.”

“What does he mean?” Steve asks entering the room as you smirk at your father, nodding. “I wasn’t in France to study at the Sorbonne, Steve. I was there to learn about the family business.”

“Wait…what?” Gasping Steve plops onto a chair, shaking his head. “What else did you learn?” His blue eyes search your face as your grin widens.

“Simply everything, Steve… I just pushed all this knowledge away, tried to be the perfect wife for Bucky but now…” Pointing at the gun at your waistband you tilt your head. “No more shy girl, Stevie.”

“Why didn’t you fight back against Brock back then?” Your eyes drift toward your father as you blink away a few tears. “I don’t know Steve. I was so lost in my headspace; the place I pretend I belong, that I forgot how to fight back. It was as if I watched someone else getting attacked. Does that make sense?”

Nodding thoughtfully Steve gets up to pace around the room. His blue eyes meet yours as you smile at your friend. “Don’t worry. I needed to be saved back then. I needed you. Now be silent and listen to my father.”

“All important papers are hidden in this secret room too. Bank accounts, our business partners, enemies…dirty secrets. I can only beg you to be careful and only trust the men I named. I love you, Poppy. Now take over my business and show everyone you are the new boss in town.” Your father blows you a kiss before he smiles one last time at you. “I’m sorry, Y/N. Daddy loves you…”

----

Two weeks later…

“What do you mean with he refuses to let the nurse help him? Why is he not training to use his prosthesis either?” Cursing you glare at Dr. Cho, shaking your head. “I’m not paying you for making excuses for my lazy husband. He has to get his ass out of this bed…like yesterday.”

“I tried, I swear but Mr. Barnes is refusing to let me help him, refuses to even let the nurse get close to him.” Dr. Cho sighs, hearing Bucky throwing things at the nurse trying to check on the prothesis at his left side.

“Get out, slut!” Bucky barks and you sigh heavily. 

“I’ll handle this, Dr. Cho. Tell the nurse Bucky is sorry.” Ripping the door open your storm into the room, shaking your head.

“What the heck is wrong with you, Barnes?”

“I lost my arm! I can’t feel anything with this thing, not even get off any longer. You are asking me what’s wrong, Baby Girl? Seriously?” Bucky is angrily clenching his jaw. The bulge in his pants too prominent you chuckle lightly.

“Since when does Bucky Barnes give up that easily?” Teasing your husband, you push him back onto the bed before you slide your dress down your shoulders. Completely bare you straddle his lap. 

Your fingers slide over his scared shoulder and he contorts his face. “I can’t even hold you in my arms…” Sighing you slap his cheek before you lean closer to him. Face only inches from Bucky’s you smirk. “It’s not like you ever wanted to hold me lately, Barnes.”

“Baby…did she hurt you? Are you okay? I couldn’t see or hear anything after she shot me. How did you make it out?” Bucky is gently squeezing your ass with his flesh hand as you bury your face into his neck, inhaling his musky scent deeply.

“Steve got out of the ropes. Arianna wanted to shoot your head, but Steve got hold of the weapon she dropped and shot her. I told him to take care of you first.”

“How did you get this thing at my body?” Cursing Bucky points toward Stark’s prosthesis. “Stark. Steve called him and Tony tried to use the remaining nerves to create a connection between your body and the artificial arm he created. It was hard work, Buck. Tony said you should be able to use this arm just like you used your flesh one. Even feel…"

Bucky gropes your ass with the flesh hand, trying to move your body up and down his crotch. “Fuck doll, I’m so hard it hurts.”

“Hmm…Mr. Barnes…if you want me to help you out.” Smirking you lock eyes with your husband. “Use your new arm, till then you won’t get any and I ride Steve’s dick…”

“What…” Growling Bucky tries anything to use the arm. His metal fingers twitched for a moment and you hum, moving your hand over the cool metal. “You want Steve…”

“Bucky it’s been months and we got closer while you were in a coma.” Now Bucky’s face falls and he refuses to look at you. “You know, I took over two empires, Buck. I think I can handle two guys…”

“Y/N…I…” Ignoring Bucky’s confused look you grind against his erection, taking what you want. 

“You can choose, Buck. I got my empire, enough money, and power but I still want to fuck this huge cock of yours right now. Yes or no…”

Fisting Bucky’s hair you force him to look up at you and he starts panting heavily. Aroused as never he moans your name when you slide your fingers over his scarred shoulder. “Did you fuck Steve?” He gasps as you nibble along his jawline.

“Not yet…” Now Bucky growls as you bite his neck hard enough to leave an angry mark. “I wanted to fuck you first. Going to check out who can make me cum harder.” One hand slipping into his boxers you squeeze his hard member tightly, not caring about the whines leaving Bucky’s lips.

“You’re mine…my wife. You don’t fuck Stevie…” 

“I’m past asking for permission or following orders, James. I’m going to fuck you now and maybe later I fuck your best friend. I haven’t decided yet.” Shrugging you crawl down Bucky’s body to slide his boxers down.

“Fuck…Y/N…I.” He gets no chance to form a coherent sentence as you straddle his lap, grabbing his cock to sink down his shaft, taking what you want. 

Your hand collides with Bucky’s cheek and he starts panting heavily. “Shut up, Bucky. You are my slut from now on! I’m going to make you my good boy, only good for fucking me.”

“Holy hell, doll!” Shocked Bucky looks up at you with lust-blown pupils as you ignore his outburst. When you start to roll your hips Bucky wants to grab your hip with his flesh hand, but you slap it away.

“Both or none, Bucky!” You threaten and he growls with every slow movement of your hips. He needs all his strength, but he manages to slightly lift his prosthesis, cursing.

“You can do it, baby. You want to come, make me ride you harder!” Voice hard you fist Bucky’s hair, grinding against him to add pressure to your swollen bud.

Still fighting his body Bucky, tries to raise the arm again and fails. “I want to fuck you…” Gritting his teeth he pants against your lips as you breathe against him. “Forget it’s a foreign arm, see it as yours, James.”

Placing your hands onto Bucky’s chest you dig your knees into the mattress to move faster. He’s going crazy underneath you, trying anything to grab your hips he ignores the metal arm and lifts his flesh one.

Smiling you feel cool metal gripping your flesh tightly to guide your movement. Bucky is growling, suddenly fully aware he can touch you with this arm he flips you onto your back to pin your hands down. “Gonna fuck you hard…” 

He’s pounding you hard the moment he has control over your body. You could easily get out of his grip, but you made him use the arm, so you submit for a moment by wrapping your legs around his waist. “Yeah, show me what you’ve got Barnes. Fuck me as you mean it.”

“You’re mine…” His hips start moving in a maddening pace while his stormy blue eyes watch you falling apart, crying out his name. “Fuck you’re so tight. Gonna fill you up, mark you as mine.”

Your toes start curling and you are close to falling over the edge as Bucky pulls out of you to flip you onto your stomach, using his metal arm like his normal one. You want to protest but Bucky is back on you, gripping your waist to shove you onto his cock, impaling you once again.

His flesh hand fists your hair while his metal one holds your thigh in a tight grip. He’s roughly thrusting into you, not caring about the obscene noises he presses out of you. “Scream my name, Baby Girl. I will make you mine all over again.”

Fisting the sheets, you feel the coil tightening and you are so close to your high it hurts. Your body moves on its own to meet Bucky’s punishing thrusts. He’s groaning behind you, feeling you finally wrapped around him, a dream coming true. “Come for me…” He orders or rather yells, and you squeeze him tightly.

“Fuck…”

Bucky lazily moves his hips to ride your high out until he spills his cum into you, chuckling at the sight of your spent body collapsing on the bed the moment he let go of your hair. “You look so pretty fucked out by me, Baby Girl.”

He takes a moment to pull out, just savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him as his cum seeps out of you. When he finally pulls out he slaps your ass with his metal hand chuckling when you curse his name.

“At least you learned how to use the arm.” Snuggling into the pillow you take a moment to catch your breath. “Yeah…” Bucky is crawling up your body, moving the cool metal hand over your thigh.

His breath is hot in your neck when he presses his chest to your back. “How is business lately, Mrs. Mobster?” Bucky chuckles into your neck. “I know you are pretty tough for such a tiny girl. Love it you are smaller than me.”

“I managed to keep daddy’s business running. Some men quit; they didn’t want to work under a girl. Thor, Bruce, and T'Challa are still with me. You should watch the video my father left.” 

“Babe, I’d love to ‘work’ under you any time.” Bucky groans glancing at your naked form. His hands gently caress your back as the door to your bedroom opens and a flustered Steve tries to ignore your naked body right in front of him.

“Boss, we should talk…”

“Give me a minute, Stevie,” Bucky mutters and Steve clears his throat, pointing toward you. “Sorry, but she is the new boss in town, Buck. We need to talk about Mark’s father and more. You can join us…”

Bucky is clenching his jaw when you start chuckling into the pillow. You know he’s an Alpha type and hearing you have more power than him right now makes him furious. “So…I fucked my new boss, awesome.” A dirty grin on his lips Bucky moves down your body to bite your cheek. 

“Buck’ we gotta work to do.” Steve insists trying so hard to ignore the tingling in his body or the twitch of his cock. 

“Steve, give me a minute to feel my legs again and then we can talk about revenge, the business and how I want to ride your dick…”

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