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narcosmx · 2 years

Text

being baby arellano and being into barron would include: the christine incident

author's note:AHHHHHHHHHHH that is all and mention of the shooting and like details about it so if it's triggering pls don't read just for the thirst lol

okay cracks my knuckles let's fuCKING DO THIS

so is this a little off in the timeline with what i've written for baby arellano already in this series? yes. do i care? fuck no

okay wonderful wonderful here we go

so the christine was of course an after party to benjamin's 40th birthday celebration shit

and so of course, never wanting to miss any of the action or free drinks and waltzing around like you own the place you're convinced you're going with the boys

you're not staying home for a quiet night in like all the wifes and babies, you're here to have a good time and you deserve to be able to

just coming out dressed and meeting them at the cars, don't even bother asking benjamin just slip into the car and wait for them

the boys start piling in and ramon is like fuck yeah, now it's a real fucking party and wrapping his arm around you to kiss your forehead

claudio coming in slightly confused, giving you a preplexed look before shaking his head and laughing because he knows better than to get into it with you

pancha and benjamin sliding in at the same time, almost don't notice you

until pancha turns around to tell claudio something and he's like "que chingado" and benjamin wips around, sees you and is like "no, absolutamente no"

and you're like crossing your arms like "ya estoy en el carro, chingao, quiero celebrar mi hermano" essentially if you want me out of this car take me out kicking and screaming i dare you

and benjamin deep sighs and turns around like "pero te comportas, hm, nada de tus pendejadas. los dos" giving you and mon a warning glare before signaling to the driver he can go

let the fucking rager begin ahh

you and mon are the first ones with a drink in your hands obvi

can we just talk about the power move that is walking in to the christine with the arellano felix boys filling in behind you

amazing perfect

anyways

you're having fun but you wanted to go dancing and as you get up to leave benjamin gives you this like ??? raised eyebrow look

before he can yell at you you level with him "me llevo al barron" you offer and benjamin sighs and calls barron over to you

"te la encargo" "sta bien" barron reassures as he's like eyeing all over your body i just

"te comportas" benjamin shouts after you to no avail because you're already giggling and weaving your way past people as barron keeps a cool pace behind you

it isn't until you're out of direct line of sight that barron leans in to grab at your waist and kiss your shoulder "i like the way you think, baby"

and i just dancing up against barron will someone please stop me

grinding on him as he tries to keep his composure and keep aware because he is trying to work here

him grabbing at your waist the second you try to pull away

but it felt like in an instant you were feeling his tug a little bit more urgently as be pulls at your arm

he's pulling you along with you as he gets closer, you're following his line of sight and are like "oh you don't have to worry abou"

he cuts you off, a rare occurence and the honey that is usually dripping fron his voice when he talks to you is filledwith worry now

"take off your heels, get low and stay behind me" he directs in a calm and matter of fact tone which has you following without question

barron turns around to look at you again, making sure you're following along and as you start to say "done" he turns and shoots the two cops in the face

grabbing you instantly, he's like "run" as you go up the stairs, barron doing his best to keep his body in front of you

he leaves you in this little corner against the cement railing of the third floor, a little corner he can defend

"stay here until i come get you, i've got you baby girl"

and while this is going on your brothers are losing their minds, ramon's screaming, benjamin is at the point of throwing up, pancha is looking around frantically but he knows who you're with and if pancha trust anyone it's barron

barron shooting back at chapo, gets back against the wall and sees you there nearly shaking and knows iet's time to go

lets out a few last shots before turning around and barreling towards you "good girl" he praises softly lifting you up to your feet, "lets go"

him again putting his body fully in harms way as he guides you and you're kind of just in this frozen state until you reach the exit and see your brothers making their way down the stairs

instinctually you run over to benjamin and when i say your brothers immediately form this human shield around you i mean fucking in an instant

there's that moment where benjamin is like "pegados" and he means like close against you

sobbing at the idea of that's how pancha got shot in the arm because the boys are absolutely surrounding you making sure nothing touches you

benjamin's leading the charge and won't for a moment let go of your hand even though you're looking behind you feeling this like sense of doom the further away you get from barron

and walking through that like little balcony with your brothers, shots ringing around you and idk why i am like just fascinated with the image of you staring at the top of those stairs as chapo comes around the corner and shoots claudio

you just staring shaking before benjamin is dragging you along and barron comes out the other side giving you this "i got you" look before being pushed down that like kitchen hallway between benjamin and javier who is like holding on to you for support too and you see the first look of like oh shit wtf on benjamin's face you've ever seen

i am just going into the kitchen and they start shooting from the window

ramon fucking tackles you to the floor and is protecting you with his body, i cry covering your ears

the fucking thud at the door as javi and mon put you behind them but fuckING BARRON BARGING IN AHHHH

shooting out the window and yelling instructions at everyone before coming to look you over to make sure you're okay

your brother's yeeting themselves out the window and barron lifting your chin up to look at him because you're shaking and he's like "i told you, i've got you, baby girl" before gently pushing you and like lifting you up out of the window where mon is there to like whisk you off to a car with them

i am just the DEAD SILENCE OF THAT CAR RIDE

ramon is holding on to you, benjamin needed to sit next to you

he's stroking your hair and is like "i'm so sorry, nena. i'm so sorry i let this happen to you" and for the first time in your goddam life you're out here apologizing to min for not understanding why he never let you go to these things

barron driving, looking back at you from the rear view mirror every like 10 seconds to make sure you're okay

i just getting there and everyone jumping out of the car to make sure everyone else gets in and is safe

leaving you there shaking like a fucking leaf in the back sobbing and :(( barron leaping over from the driver's seat and pulling you into his lap

stroking your hair and whispering "i've got you, i've got you. i won't let anything happen to you baby girl"

and i just the moment dina sees you; exchanging that look of pure like terror and grief you're crawling over to sit with you as she's nearly craddling you

dina looking down seeing you sob and shake and her turning to the boys and being like "quiero sus cabezas"

and i just when you guys get to the next safe house the amount of times that ramon thanks barron wow cannot

min pulls him aside and hugs him and is like "gracias por cuidarme a mi angel"

and min assigning him to take care of you as he takes care of his little family and he puts ramon with dina

you asleep in the car, barron coming to pick you up and carry you up to bed

you startle awake in his arms and see it's him :( :( :(

and he's just like "sh, sh don't worry, i'm not going to leave your side. promise"

A LITTLE PINKY PROMISE BYE KILL ME

#narcos mexico fan fic #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico imagines #david barron #benjamín arellano félix #ramon arellano felix

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espritmuse · 3 years

Note

okayyyy but dom bully mikasa who starts being mean to you when you get too close to eren and tells you you’re acting like such a slut around him until one day she eventually fucks you stupid calling you the same names and making you tell her your hers

—𝐄𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄—

⌕ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Mikasa Ackerman x Reader

⌕ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: semi public sex (school bathrooms), fingering, cunnilingus, meankasa and possessive Mikasa, a bit of degradation. [1.3 words.]

⌕ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: The beginning is just for a bit of context, you can just go right to the smut if ur too horny, it’s the best moment I guess…. (Yeah it is)

— 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑 —

Mikasa knew very well where this little game was going. Since the very beginning. But can you blame her for playing with you like she did? it was so fun, seeing you getting all flustered, seeing your eyes avoiding hers when you both met in the school corridors.

A boy. A stupid and meaningless boy. It was the problem, or rather, her excuse for treating you like she always does. Accidents, like she calls them in front of the headteacher when she is, once again, sent to his office.

But the line was definitely crossed last Saturday night, when you went to her boyfriend’s birthday party. Eren Yeager. It took you some time, perhaps too much time to finally realise and understand that jealousy was the cause of all of your mistreatment.

Daggers piercing your skin. That’s what her dark black eyes would’ve thrown if they could when her boyfriend shared his cup of alcohol with you. You weren’t that close to him, you weren’t even really his friend, but that was already too much, apparently. Since then, insults and humiliations got worse, so much worse.

“Slut.” This is what you could read on the body of your car, written in red paint. Eyes wide and mouth agape, you tried to use the sleeve of your shirt to wash the paint out, without any success. You looked stupid, like this, on the parking lot; and she didn’t miss a second of it.

3PM in the school restroom. That was the time and the place you were supposed to meet her at. You accepted, for some unknown reason, after reading it on the piece of paper she had left on your car. Curiosity, as it may be.

And there she was. Awaiting for you, her back pressed on the white wall, an unamused expression on her face. Unamused, until she heard your footsteps walking down to her.

Black nail polish. It was what her nails were painted with when she slowly slid them down your pants, looking straight at you, eyes lost in your own gaze, searching for the slightest glimpse of disapprobation.

Nowhere to be found.

“Don’t make any loud noises. You’ll regret it” She advised spitefully, in an inaudible whisper, her lips almost caressing yours. “Understood?” She then questioned rhetorically.

“Y…yes” you answered uncertainly, still a bit confused of what was just occurring in front of you.

“Good girl. Open your legs.” She announced in a rough voice. An order, that’s what it really sounded like.

You did so, spreading both of your lower members without any difficulties on the bathroom cabinet, sitting in-between the two sinks. Your movement seemed to please her because her lips curved into a small angelic and exited smile. The black haired woman placed both of her hand on each individual knees before pulling you closer to her.

She put one knee on the floor, then the second, before pulling down your underwear swiftly with her fingers. It was delicate, surprisingly. Your eyes weren’t missing a single piece of this moment, amazed and still a bit shocked.

“You’re a dirty girl you know. Couldn’t have guessed that.” She remarked, holding your pink lace lingerie in her pale hand, her curious and mocking gaze all over your underwear. “I wonder if the top is the same.” She started after dropping your pantie on the bare floor, “or let me guess, you’re not even wearing anything under your shirt? Hm?”

“I…”

“Shh…bad girls don’t talk.” She said, standing back up quickly and placing her hand on your face, her thumb caressing your cheek. You couldn’t even tell what was going on in her mind, her movements towards you didn’t give any further details. Was she playing with you? Maybe one of her friends was hiding and recording all of that? You didn’t know. You should’ve stopped.

But you didn’t want to.

Mikasa took both sides of your skirt and lifted it a bit, exposing your pubis to her perverted gaze and, suddenly, her mouth was painted with a very big and bright smile, as if this scenery was all the needed, everything she always wanted.

You were now all naked, with the exception of your skirt, that was still covering your ass and not allowing the cold surface to come in contact with your bare skin.

And yeah, she was right, you weren’t wearing anything under your shirt.

Her tongue wandering playfully around your warm core, you mentally begged her to pleasure you. You needed it, so, so much. It's funny when you think about it; you just hated her more than anyone on this earth some minutes ago and now, she’s between your legs at your most vulnerable state.

“Mikasa…. Can you…” you tried to say.

“Quiet.” She replied spitefully, the sound of her voice slightly muffled since her head was buried in your lower body. The raven-haired woman placed both of your legs on her shoulders, your knees bending at the curve of her bones.

It’s her tongue that you felt first, sliding slowly between your fold, trying to find its way to your clit. And it did find, pretty quickly, like it always belonged here. She moved it very slowly, at first, making sure to not hurt you or making you uncomfortable.

You grabbed her black hair, trying to keep your noises for yourself, as she ordered you to some minutes prior. You could feel every little thing, her steady and serene breath on your vulva, her nose brushing slightly against your mons pubis and her right hand stroking gently your right knee.

“See? When you close this fucking mouth…” she said between loud respiration. It seemed like she was talking to herself, actually. But you still listened carefully. “You…you’re fucking delicious…I knew it.” She continued, her words feeling even better on your clit because of the air she was releasing when she was pronouncing them.

Two fingers. Or maybe three, you couldn’t even tell. She started moving them very slowly inside of you, trying to follow the rhythm of her tongue at the same time. It was the same identical pace, you could tell. It felt fantastic.

You couldn’t even stop the noises from escaping your lips, it was impossible. Never in your life you have felt that great, that pleasured.

Her lips and tongue sucking on your clit, you almost didn’t notice when she replaced her mouth with her thumb. She got up from the dirty floor of the bathroom and got closer to you and, as a whisper, planted some soft kisses on your temples and your nose. You glimpsed a change in her behaviour, almost unnoticeable, but it was here.

“Mika….Mikasa…it…” you tried to say once again, but this time she didn’t interrupt you or, not directly; you simply couldn’t talk anymore.

“It feels good doesn’t it baby?” She whispered in your ear sensually. “Tell me how good I make you feel.” She continued.

“V…very very good…” you mumbled.

“Very good? Is that so?” She questioned gently, her knuckles moving back and forth inside your folds. “You’re about to cum, aren’t you sweetheart?” She asked as well after noticing your hands, who tried to grab her shirt uncontrollably.

You nodded quickly. But she stopped.

“You’re mine. Do you understand?” Mikasa said, looking straight in your eyes, a devilish smile on her angelic face.

“Mhh…. Please….why did you…” You protested, not even paying attention to the things she was saying.

“I won’t continue if you don’t say it back.”

“I… I’m y…yours…”

You finally felt her hands moving back in your body, allowing you to properly cum, your head buried in the crook of her neck as she was trying to keep her balance with her free hand, positioned on the mirror behind you.

“Turns out I was right all this time huh?” She started, once out of the bathroom, both of you looking all innocent, as if nothing had happened. “You’re such a slut.” She quietly proceeded in your ear.

You were right too, it was jealousy all of this time.

Thank you a lot for reading <333 reblogs and comments are pretty much welcomed !! Have a nice day!

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

could you possibly write something about Sirius & remus dating and remus feeling bad that Sirius keeps paying (since obviously he's big deal NHLer v trainer)

Oof, yes. This was combined with asks for some Coops hurt/comfort where one doesn't want to talk, as well as an argument. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for wealth insecurity, small argument (not a blowout)

Grocery shopping had never been Remus’ favorite thing in the world, but he had to admit it was a lot more fun when everything came with the thrilling reminder that he was living with the love of his life. He got to learn Sirius’ preferences on everything from candles (softer scents, or something woodsy) to towels (as fluffy as humanly possible) and filed every detail away in the little pocket of his brain entirely dedicated to the beautiful man that could reach the top shelves.

“What’s next?” he asked an hour into their latest Target excursion.

Sirius tilted his phone to show the screen. “Sheets.”

“I still can’t believe you had a hole in those and didn’t notice,” Remus said with a shake of his head.

“How do you know it wasn’t your fault?” Sirius countered with a playful quirk of his eyebrow.

“I’m not the one that runs marathons in my sleep,” Remus laughed, standing on his toes to kiss his stubbly cheek. “Oof. Prickly.”

Sirius scrunched his nose. “You like it.”

“Hmm. Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” he mimicked, bumping Remus’ hip with his own. “What kind do you want?”

Remus shrugged one shoulder as they turned down the next aisle, scanning the shelves of plastic-wrapped packages in a million different patterns. “I like the look of the white ones, but grey or blue could be nice. You?”

“As long as they’re soft and have you in them, I don’t care.”

“Sap,” he teased, though he was unable to fight the blush racing hot up his neck. Sirius didn’t protest; his small, smug smile needed no explanation. Remus pushed the cart slowly down the aisle, making note of the price tags as he went. Sheets were always an expense—not as bad as blankets or, god forbid, a new mattress, but an expense all the same. He had managed to keep his last ones in good condition for almost ten years before they wore out.

The $30 set doesn’t look too bad, but that’s a weird color…Sirius hates microfiber…I’d rather not sleep on puppy print…getting laid on a 1970s paisley pattern would kill me instantly… “How about these?”

He startled and glanced down the aisle, where Sirius was holding a set in faint gray. An unbidden grin pulled at the side of his mouth. “The softest of the bunch, huh?”

“Of course,” Sirius laughed. “Come feel, it’s like heaven.”

Remus pushed off and hopped up on the undercarriage, riding the cart all the way until he reached Sirius’ side; his hand was halfway to the exposed block of fabric when he froze. $186.99, read the price tag below the stack of sheets in varying colors. Almost $200, and the only difference was the softness. “I…” he faltered slightly, looking between Sirius and the sheets for a moment.

“Do you not like them?”

“No, I do,” Remus said as his mind whirred. He had never spent more than a hundred dollars on sheets before. It wasn’t wildly out his budget, especially once he started working with the Lions, but he had always been careful with money. Sirius…Sirius had never had to do that. Never in his life.

“Is it the color? Because they have white ones—”

“It’s 200 dollars,” he almost laughed. Sirius fell quiet in obvious confusion as Remus turned to look at him. “Sirius, those sheets are 200 dollars.”

“Yes?”

“There’s—” Remus broke off again; something a little too much like shame for his liking crawled up his throat. “I—sure, yeah, if you like them.”

“It’s not about what Ilike,” Sirius continued, as if he couldn’t see the discomfort tensing every one of Remus’ muscles. “It’s our bed. I don’t want to get sheets you hate.”

“No, no, they’re nice.” Too nice. Remus forced a smile. “I like them.”

Sirius looked at him for a moment. “Which ones do you prefer?”

The ones that don’t cost the same as my monthly food budget. “Uh, the color threw me off at first,” he said. “The blue ones are better.”

The crease between Sirius’ brows eased by a degree and he kissed Remus’ jaw gently, then switched the sets. “D’accord, mon loup. Whatever makes you happy.”

Remus was as quiet as he could be without arousing suspicion for the rest of the trip. Sirius paid for their things—like always, Remus realized with a turn of his stomach—and helped him carry the bags to the car without another word about the sheets.

He stayed quiet the whole way home.

The shame mounted as they drove. It seemed everything was a sudden, unwelcome reminder of just how different he and Sirius were. Sirius’ family had a chef during his childhood—Remus made himself PB&Js every morning for the entirety of middle school. Sirius had a brand-new car—Remus had never had cause to justify that over public transportation and Uber. It was embarrassing, and Sirius’ unintentional thoughtlessness was more frustrating than he thought it would be.

He didn’t say anything as they pulled up to the house and unloaded their shopping bags; his shirt and jeans itched his skin like sandpaper. Judging from the look on Sirius’ face, he had picked up on Remus’ frustration, but there was no way Remus was going to get into the root of it while he still felt so twitchy.

Damn you and your emotional intelligence, he thought as he slipped past Sirius’ worried glances and up the stairs to their bedroom. Be oblivious for once and let me get through this.

The bed was stripped bare—their duvet and pillows sat in a heap on top of the mattress. Remus thought back to the first night he had slept there, marveling at the cloudlike support on his achy lower back. He had chalked it up to the pure bliss that came with finally having what he really wanted, but his traitorous brain was starting to convince him it wasn’t the joy that made it seem so nice.

He had never gone without food. His parents always made sure he had clothes that mostly fit and the school supplies he needed. They paid for his hockey gear and the team dues until he was old enough to work part-time and start saving his own money; scholarships had always been of a quiet importance in their house. Things got tighter when Jules was born, but they made it work. Remus would always be grateful for that.

Sirius had never had to think about money in that way. Not once.

Remus sighed through his nose as he pulled his battered Wisconsin hoodie over his head and tightened the drawstring of his sweats, letting the comfort envelop him. “It’s not his fault,” he murmured into the mirror. “Don’t get into your head about this.”

Sirius was in the living room when Remus made his way down the stairs with his hands curled into the worn sleeves of the hoodie. He said nothing while Remus began absently cleaning up the scattered items around their junk bowl, though his gaze prickled the back of his neck.

“Mon loup?” came the soft question after two minutes of tense silence.

“Yeah?” he managed around the tightness in his lungs.

He could practically taste Sirius’ hesitation. “Did I—nevermind. Sorry.”

“What?”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said again, though he seemed to be folding in on himself. Remus hated seeing him try and take up less space, and hated the idea that he was the one that caused it.

$200. On sheets.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked, leaning back against the countertop.

“No, I just—” Sirius pasted on a smile and cross the room, dropping a tentative kiss to the top of his head as he passed despite the wary look in his eyes. “Just a thought. It’s nothing.”

“You’re upset.”

“No, no, I’m good.”

“Please don’t lie to me.” It came out harsher than intended and Remus winced. “I mean—Sirius, something is obviously bothering you.”

He chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, rubbing his thumbs in small circles over the marble countertop before making brief eye contact. “You’re angry,” he said at last, cautiously. “Are you angry with me?”

“No,” Remus said, then paused. Sirius’ face fell. “Well, I’m a little irritated, but—but it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t be.”

“It’s not stupid.”

Remus swallowed hard at the kicked-puppy look on Sirius’ face. “It is.”

“I’m sorry,” Sirius said.

And that was…honestly, kind of the worst thing he could say. “You don’t get it,” Remus said, staring at the floor. “Sirius, you just spent 200 dollars on sheets.”

If anything, that seemed to upset him more. “You said you liked them.”

“I—” Remus flailed his hand around. “I do! But Jesus, honey, that’s kind of a lot!”

“We both liked the sheets.”

“I don’t know how to tell you that that’s expensive!” he blurted as the words wormed their way out and hung in the air. “Two hundred dollars might be peanuts to you, but that used to be my food budget for the month!”

“Remus—”

“You have never had to budget a day in your life,” he said, quieter. “Your watch probably cost more than a month’s rent for my apartment, you’ve never taken public transportation—”

“Remus—”

“—and you make millions of dollars every year!” He paused, out of breath, and ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. “Millions, Sirius. And—and now that we’re together, that we’re living together, it’s just really apparent in a way that it wasn’t before.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “I wish you had told me at the store.”

“It’s not about the sheets,” Remus laughed, because there was nothing else he could do other than cry. “We have entirely different views of how much money is worth. You can pay for things for me and I can’t do the same for you, and that feels like shit.”

An unsettling quiet blanketed the whole first floor as Sirius stayed very, very still, like a small animal caught in a trap. “I don’t know what you want me to say,” he confessed, barely above a whisper. “You’re right. Money is…it’s not something I’ve had to think about, but I like spending it on you.”

“I don’t like being cared for,” Remus forced out around the grate that had been keeping it down. “I don’t like feeling like I can’t support myself, or that I’m a burden on you and especially that I can’t repay that.”

Sirius finally met his eyes, and he looked appalled. “Remus, you’re never a burden.”

“It feels like it.” He was horrified to feel the burn of tears in his eyes. “Sometimes. When—when you buy nice things for me, or we go on nice vacations, or even when you buy groceries for us for the fifth time in a row, it feels like I’m using you for your money.”

“But you’re not.”

“No!” Remus said immediately. “God, no, never. That’s the last thing I want. But I don’t want you to have to change your lifestyle to make it revolve around me, either. I feel like I’m caught in the middle and there’s no good answer.”

Sirius watched him for a moment, the way that always made Remus feel a little bit like a particularly intricate play he was trying to work out. “What did you want to say at the store?”

“I—what?”

“What did you want to say while we were getting the sheets?”

Remus bit his lip in thought. “Those are too expensive, and I think we should get different ones,” he said eventually. “I like the color and the fabric, but I don’t want to spend that much money on sheets when we could do something else with it.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask sooner.” The earnest look on Sirius’ face eased some of the bubbling feelings in his chest. “And I’m sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“…why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing to look at your multi-millionaire boyfriend and say, ‘I can’t afford $200 sheets’, Sirius. It sucks. I feel like I can’t measure up.”

Sirius nodded. “I’ve never judged you for your money, not once. Just for the record. There’s nothing I would rather spend it on than making you happy.”

“I don’t want to be sheltered and provided for.” Remus blinked back the last of the tears and closed his eyes. “I want us to be equals. That’s important to me.”

“Okay.”

“And I don’t know how to fix this right away.”

“I don’t, either.” Warm fingers brushed the back of his hand and he leaned into Sirius without looking. “Can we try and figure it out, though? As a team?”

“Yes, captain,” he snorted, feeling Sirius’ soft huff on the top of his head. They stood silently for a few seconds before Remus let go of his tension with a slow exhale. “I don’t think a joint bank account is a good idea yet, but maybe we can start by alternating who buys groceries? Or something small like that. I don’t want to feel like this anymore, not with you. I love you too much.”

Sirius nuzzled into his hair for a moment before lips pressed against his temple. “How about we start by making the bed?”

The pressure on Remus’ chest eased. Making the bed was easy. They had the exact same method for it, a function of Sirius growing up with a militant mother and Remus’ aunts lovingly terrorizing him into learning how to do hospital corners. It was an olive branch that he could happily accept with a light squeeze around Sirius’ waist. Baby steps, he thought. We’ll deal with the big stuff when we’re better settled. He offered a half-smile to Sirius. “What are we waiting for?”

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #sweater weather #lumosinlove #money talk #hurt/ comfort #angst #argument #sheets

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james-pottersimp · 3 years

Text

Overworking • Regulus Black

Summary : You overwork yourself and your Boyfriend helps you relax

Warnings : none, it’s just fluff

A/N : Hi guys!! This is my first fanfiction. I just want to say thank you to @bellatrixscurls for helping me and giving me feedback. I love you <3

The Sound of the rain on the window and the scribbling on the parchment filled the almost dark Room, while you sat at your desk, trying to keep yourself awake. With every second that passed, your eyelids became heavier. You wanted nothing more than to lie in the arms of your boyfriend, Regulus Black, and listen to his voice as you fell into a deep sleep, but you couldn’t. You have to stay awake and study so you don't fail another test.

The clock struck 12, for 4 hours now you have been sitting on an uncomfortable chair in front of numerous books you don't understand a word of. Maybe you could just take a little break. Just 5 minutes and then you would continue working. You put your head on your arms and closed your eyes. "Just 5 minutes" you mumbled to yourself, but your tiredness overcame you and everything went black.

Regulus Black opened the door to the dorm he shared with you. His eyes fell on your sleeping figure: your forehead rested on your forearms and your y/hc hair covered your face. Numerous books and notes lay before you. Carefully, the black-haired boy put down his backpack and walked towards you. He bent down to you and tenderly stroked a few strands from your face. Your friend gave you a gentle kiss on the temple.

"Wake up, mon cœur" he whispered in your ear. Your eyes slowly opened and you raised your head. Confused you looked around and your eyes fell on your boyfriend. His green eyes were laced with worry as he stared at your exhausted face.

"Regulus?" you questioned sleepily The boy in front of you nodded gently. Still confused, you looked at the table on which you had been sleeping until just now. Then you realize what happened: you fell asleep. Suddenly wide awake, you sit up straight and start looking through your notes.

"Hey hey, slow down, mon amour. What's wrong?" Regulus asks while putting his hands on yours to calm you down.

"I have to study, Reggie. I have a test in two days and I need to get a good grade" you answered frantically. You try to remove your hands from Regulus' but his grip only tightens. You look at him with wide eyes, pleading him to let go of you. He just shook his head

"You're obviously too tired for that. Besides, it's almost 2 a.m. and you need your sleep. You have learned enough for today, mon amour."

"No no I'm fine. Reg please I really-" you started to ramble but your boyfriend cut you off you with a kiss. You sigh, his lips feel so soft on yours. You could lose yourself in this kiss but

"Reg please. I really can't fail this test." you told him after you pulled away

Regulus sighed and took your face in his hands. You nuzzled your cheek into the warmth of his hand

"Listen, I'll help you study tomorrow. But today you try to relax okay, mon cœur?". That was not a question. Regulus would not take no for an answer and you knew that. Besides, he was right: you were too tired to continue working. So you nodded to show him that you agreed. The black-haired boy smiled and gave you a kiss on the forehead. He let go of your face. Then he stood up and started closing your books to put them in a neat pile next to your notes. You stare at your wonderful boyfriend and start to question yourself again what you did to deserve him. Regulus quickly noticed this and turned to you. He was talking to you but you were too lost in his beautiful green eyes. When you finally snapped out your thoughts you heard his laughter.

"What is it?" he asked, chuckling.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, my dear," you answer giggling.

His green eyes looked at you skeptically. The next thing you knew was that he grabbed you by your waist, carried you to the bed and threw you onto the white mattress. In less than a second he was on top of you.

"Are you sure you don't know what I'm talking about?”

With a big smile on your lips you shook your head

"Well, in that case" he started while his fingers found your waist. " I guess I'll have to tickle it out of you".

Before you could give him an answer he started tickling you. You cried out in shock, but started laughing shortly after. You almost couldn’t breath due to your laughter. With a grin Regulus asked again "Are you absolutely sure?”

You try to give him an answer but nothing more came out of your mouth than loud laughter.

"Reg- Reggie please" you tried but you interrupted yourself with a laugh that sounded more like a scream.

"What do you want, mon amour" your boyfriend teased you.

"I- I... stop" you stuttered. Regulus just started tickling you more. Your laughter became louder and louder

"What? I couldn't hear you properly. Can you repeat that?"

"W-want you to.... to stop" you blurted out next to a few laughs.

"I'll think about it when you say please" the boy above you chuckled

"P-please Reggie.... stop please" you asked hoping he would stop however he didn’t.

"You gonna tell what was up then" he asked to get even more annoyed. Regulus just loved to hear you laugh so he wouldn't stop so easily.

You nodded in despair as your eyes closed in laughter.

Then the ticklish feeling stopped. The first thing you did was to take a deep breath and then you opened your eyes. You looked into the expectant green eyes above you.

"I was just wondering what I did to deserve such a wonderful boyfriend like you," you told him.

"You deserve much more than me, ma belle" he whispered and gave you a kiss on the cheek. "How about you go to the bathroom and get ready for bed and I'll find you some clothes to sleep in meanwhile".

While he was saying that, he got off of you so you could stand up. You sat up and look at Regulus. "Okay, I'll be back in 15". After you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, you got up and made your way to the bathroom

"Take your time" Regulus called after you before he also got up and went to the closet.

About 15 minutes later you came out of the bathroom. Your boyfriend was sitting on the bed with your favorite sweatshirt and sweatpants in his lap. When he saw you standing in front of him, he got up and put the clothes on the bed. You looked very tired: your hair was messy on your shoulders, your y/ec eyes were about to fall shut. To him, you were still the most beautiful girl in the whole world.

"Shall I help you put on the clothes" he asked quietly, admiring you.

You nodded, now too tired to answer him. A soft smile played on his lips as he undid the buttons of your blouse. He slipped it over your shoulders and arms only to let it fall to the floor behind you.

He placed gentle kisses on your shoulder murmuring "So beautiful. And all mine."

"All yours" you echoed. At these words he smiled and gave you a soft kiss.

After that he grabbed his sweater, asking you to put your arms up to pull it over you. You did as he said and he put the sweater on you. Then he opened the button and zipper of your pants and dropped to the floor. His hands grabbed yours and he pulled you a little to signal you to go forward. You take a step forward and look at your boyfriend. He brought your hands up to his lips and kissed them, his eyes never leaving yours.

Then he took the jogging pants and helped you put them on.

Regulus sat down on the bed again and pulled you into his lap. His hands found your hips once again, his fingertips going under the sweater, lightly caressing your skin. One hand left your hip to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He looked at you in love, admiring every detail of your face. You smile in at him

"Tu es la plus belle fille que j'aie jamais vue, mon ange" Regulus whispered.

"What?" you questioned your boyfriend.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever seen, my angel" he translated for you.

You smile widely at his comment. Regulus leaned forward and gave you a long and deep kiss. After he pulled away kissed your forehead quickly

“Do you want to go to sleep” Regulus asked softly still caressing your waist with on hand.

“Yes please” you respond, desperately wanting to go to sleep now.

“Alright, mon cœur”

He pulled you of off his lap, making you stand in front of him. Your knees were shaking a little showing Regulus that you were far too tired to stand. He lay down quickly and opened his arms for you to cuddle into him. You did exactly that and sighed loudly. One of his hand tangled up in your hair while the other found your waist again. He gave you some soft kisses on top of your head and whispered

“Sleep tight. I love you so much, mon cœur”

You were already half asleep while mumbling

“I love you too, Reggie” into his chest.

The last thing you witnessed was a kiss that he gave you and his hand lightly stroking your back, then you drifted off into a deep slumber.

#regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black blurb #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus black fluff #regulus black imagine #regulus black oneshot #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter imagine #fluff

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fleetingpieces · 3 years

Text

My One in a Million Chapter 8

Hiiiii! I'm back from the dead and finally got back to writing again <3

Sorry it took ages—and sorry it's not a great chapter— but thank you so much everyone for the patience and support, it means so much!

Thank you @inloveoknutzy @donttouchmycarrots and @knittingdreams for beating, love y'all! <3

Tag list: @whataboutmyfries @justdyingontheinside @heyoitslysso @sunflowerfox87 @hereforwolfstarr @potterlocked24-7 @ttylfedora @domesticatedbeetlenamedjorge @lovemeleo @im-lana

CW: Mentions of food

Ao3

Masterlist

Chapter 8 - The morning after

Remus woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. He blinked a few times to get the tiredness out of his eyes—which seemed to want to stay glued shut—and stared at the ceiling for long moments.

His first thought was that, for a second, he thought he could hear Padfoot’s laugh. Vague images of a dream he’d had came flooding back to him; long corridors, empty beds and his gaming console. The sound must have been a remnant of that.

The second thought was that the ceiling of his room was weird. He couldn’t quite pinpoint where the bugging sensation came from, but something was off and he was way too tired to figure out what it was. Maybe he should just go back to sleep. Groaning, he turned around to do just that, and that’s when he got a good look at the rest of the room.

He sat up with a start, regretting it instantly when nausea hit him like a wave. Closing his eyes, he stayed still until the feeling ebbed away, then opened them again slowly.

This wasn’t his room. There was no sign of any of his stuff; instead, he saw a big mirror, a dark wood chest of drawers, and a trail of scattered things that either belonged to different people or to someone with diverse tastes: a blue hair tie, a black snapback, t-shirts that at a glance he could tell were of different sizes, with stamps that varied from Disney to Strand.

One by one, memories from the night before popped up as the fogginess from sleep left him completely. That’s right, Sirius had offered his home to him after he’d found Remus outside of his flat; he’d come in to take a shower and had sat on the couch as they watched a movie and drank. Things were a bit hazy from that point on.

Had he really pouted and asked Sirius to stay with him like a little kid? Fuck, please let that be a part of the drunk hallucinations. He turned around slowly, glancing to the other side of the bed with his heart beating fast in his throat, but the spot next to him was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Remus threw the blankets to the side and planted his feet on the floor to get some resemblance of stability, but frowned when he stepped on something. Looking down, he noticed a pillow and a blanket lying rumpled on the floor, next to his side of the bed.

A pang of guilt made its way to his chest when he realised Sirius must have slept on the floor while Remus was on the bed, covered from head to toe and warm. Sirius had been so careful with him. Every touch had been gentle, not invasive but rather trying not to overstep, trying to comfort. So, so very careful.

Remus felt slightly ashamed for thinking Sirius would take advantage of him. Not to mention for the way he'd bawled his eyes out in front of the man. He’d made a fool of himself yet again, something that kept happening a lot as of late and to which he wasn’t used to.

“Oh, God.” He remembered how he’d felt his mother’s hand brushing his hair before he fell asleep and he desperately hoped he hadn’t called out for her in his dream. Bringing a hand to his forehead, he could almost feel that phantom touch, tracing fingertips over his hairline.

He rubbed his face in embarrassment. He wasn’t sure if he was ready to face Sirius after all that, but there was no way he could fall asleep again and a quick glance at the clock on the opposite wall told him it was barely eight in the morning. It was still too early to call Leo or go back to the clinic, plus he didn’t know how everything had panned out.

Remus glanced at the bedside table where his phone was lying face down and stretched over to grab it. He flipped it from hand to hand, back and forth, the small thing weighing him down every time it fell on his palm with a soft thud.

He could call.

He should call.

But what if something had gone wrong? What if Cocoa had had a complication during the night? Would they have notified him already if that was the case? Did he want to find out like this, far away from him and helpless to do anything? He didn’t want to show any more weaknesses in front of Sirius, he’d already shown more of his vulnerable side than he’d ever intended to.

Nodding to himself, Remus got up and threw the phone on the bed. He took two steps towards the door. The doctor had told him to go in the afternoon; he could wait a couple of hours before going back to the clinic and then he would know and—

A huff escaped him as Remus hurried back and dialed the number, plopping down on the mattress.

“Thank you for calling Mercy Animal Clinic. This is Jennifer, how can I help you?”

“Yes, hi, my name is Remus? I brought my dog in last night for chocolate poisoning and I—I was just calling to check on him?”

“Of course, Sir. What is the patient's name?”

“Cocoa,” said Remus, gripping his phone a bit tighter. Jennifer hummed and asked for a few more details to confirm his identity, to which Remus replied on autopilot, his mind going blank in a subconscious attempt to protect himself.

“Just a second, please.”

Remus busied himself counting the floorboards while he waited, trying to calm his nerves, but it had the opposite effect as he became very aware of how long Jennifer was taking to find what he wanted to know. He’d started tapping his foot when the receptionist finally came back on the other end of the line.

“Yes, everything was ok during the night and Cocoa will be ready to go home after lunch,” they said cheerfully.

Remus’ breath stopped completely and then he exhaled loudly. He could have sworn he felt his heart unclench, invisible fingers letting go of their painful grip and allowing blood to stream freely again. His shoulders dropped, releasing all the pent up tension that had been building there since he’d stepped into his apartment the night before, and he laid down, covering his eyes with his free arm.

“Sir?” Jennifer said hesitantly.

“Yes. Ok. Ok. Thanks, I’ll be there.” He hung up and let the phone fall at his side.

The silence of the room was an echo of his own head as Remus tried to let the words sink in. He peeked at the ceiling from under his arm. Cocoa was fine. The phrase repeated itself a few times until Remus took a deep breath and swung himself up.

The hall was quiet outside of the room, but he could hear some noises coming from ahead. Remus bunched the sleeves of the jumper he was wearing, not too willing to admit how comfy and warm he was in Sirius’ clothes. Especially not when he was assaulted by memories of Sirius helping him walk through this same corridor the night before and Remus almost gave in to the embarrassment. Sirius probably thought he was pathetic.

Groaning, he steeled himself as he padded the rest of the way, but his step faltered before going into the kitchen, a hand rising to settle on the wall. Something smelled amazing in there. Like melted butter and Saturday mornings back home, with his mom humming as she stood by the stove and the sun streamed in through the open windows. The sound of the sizzling pan was accompanied by a rock song playing in the background, a cool guitar distortion filling the room, followed by a gravelly voice singing a capella.

And there was Sirius in the middle of it all, moving around the kitchen gracefully, head bopping and singing into a ladle. He slid across the floor like Tom Cruise in that old movie as he moved to the fridge and a chuckle bubbled out of Remus’ chest, taking with it most of the heaviness still clinging to him.

Sirius jumped up, accidentally closing the fridge door with a bang, and turned to face Remus fully. It was only then that Remus realized what he was wearing: he had black ripped jeans and a black tee, his hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail; and on top of all that, he had one of those aprons that had a buff man printed on the front, that read “Kiss the chef”.

Remus stared for so long that Sirius followed his gaze and looked down, only to look back up quickly with a blush. “It was James’ idea of a joke.”

James, as Remus was quickly learning, took special pleasure in teasing his friends, although Lily claimed he always failed when it came to her. But Sirius clearly treasured anything that came from his best friend, no matter how silly or awkward.

Clearing his throat, Remus stepped into the kitchen and peered at the stove. “What are you making?”

“Pancakes!” Sirius exclaimed, seemingly glad for the rapid move of the subject. “I thought you could use some hangover breakfast,” he added with a shrug before turning back to the mixing bowl on the counter.

“Oh,” Remus said dumbly, taken by surprise. He scrambled for something to add. “Did you get the recipe from the same place as those cookies?”

Sirius spluttered and threw an offended look over his shoulder. “Mon Dieu, I’m never going to live that down, am I? I’ll have you know, these are my speciality. But I won’t give you anything if you keep that attitude up.”

Laughing quietly, Remus breathed a sigh of relief that Sirius wasn't looking at him with pity or mentioning his sorry state from the night before. So much had happened between them in just one day, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to act anymore. He shuffled awkwardly to the island and, as he leaned on it, the name of the song Sirius had been dancing to dawned on him.

“I can’t believe you’re actually listening to Black Dog,” Remus said, covering his face, not sure if he wanted to laugh or cry.

“Hey,” Sirius turned to point at him with the batter-covered ladle, “Plant speaks to me on a spiritual level. I’m sending good vibes to Cocoa.”

Remus raised an eyebrow, making an effort to keep the corners of his mouth down. “You do know that the lyrics have nothing to do with dogs, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s the feeling that counts,” he waved his hand dismissively, sending a few vanilla-colored drops flying, “and the song title.” Smiling at that logic, Remus shook his head—as weird as it was, he found it reassuring. Sirius peered at him as he flipped the golden pancakes easily. “I’m glad you look better. How are you feeling?”

Remus tensed up, but it didn’t look like Sirius was making fun of him. Focusing on some point by his feet, he rubbed at his neck. "Yeah, um. Thank you for your help. And sorry about...everything. I guess it was one thing after the other and it was just too much.”

“We’ve been through this, you have nothing to be sorry for,” Sirius smiled tentatively. “Have they contacted you from the vets?”

“Actually, I called just now.” His heart rate picked up as excitement coursed through his body. Saying the words aloud made them even more real, allowed them to settle in and gave way to tiny pinpricks of impatience. “They said everything’s good. I can bring him home after lunch.”

Sirius turned to face him fully and his hand went to grip Remus’ forearm, his smile turning so bright it was almost blinding. “Remus, that’s great.”

Remus smiled too, staring straight at him. “Yeah,” he breathed. After a second too long, he coughed discreetly and moved back. “I just feel like I won’t be able to relax fully until I see him, you know? I wish I could go over now.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Sirius said as he leaned back too, fingers moving to play with the strings of his apron. “Just a few more hours, eh?” Remus hummed noncommittally and, sensing that he needed a bit of a distraction, Sirius turned his attention back to the food. “In the meantime, can you get the plates from over there?” He pointed at a cabinet as he got the pan out of the stove.

Remus did as he was asked and brought them over to the counter, where an array of toppings were waiting. His stomach grumbled as he watched Sirius cutting up some strawberries to place over the pancakes and then drizzling chocolate on top of everything, singing under his breath to the next song on his playlist. It was all oddly domestic. It was nice.

They sat in the living room to eat, though instead of sharing the couch like they had last night, Sirius—now without the ridiculous apron—sat across the coffee table on one of the armrests. Remus took a bite of the fluffy sponge and closed his eyes with a hum. “Ok, you were right. These are awesome.”

Sirius had just taken a mouthful himself, but he beamed before he swallowed and licked some of the chocolate off his finger. “Glad you like them, Re. I don’t think my reputation could have survived another fiasco.”

“Are you sure this wasn’t just a lucky mistake?” Remus joked, if only to ignore the way his stomach jumped at the nickname, prompting Sirius to throw a napkin at him.

For the next two hours or so, the conversation was light and easy while the music kept playing at a dim level. But, as time went on and the plates got piled up on the coffee table, Sirius started getting distracted.

He kept glancing at his phone like he was checking the time or waiting for a call. Remus would have thought that he was overstaying his welcome—Sirius had a life to get back to, after all—if it weren’t for the fact that the man kept the conversation going and going, asking questions and gesturing excitedly when he was telling a story about how he and his friends had once managed to get a flock of pigeons inside a train full of passengers. At this point, Remus was pretty sure that Sirius was not capable of lying.

A lazy breeze drifted in from the open window, bringing in the smell of morning dew and ruffling Sirius’ hair so that a few strands fell in front of his face. As he brushed them back, he raised his eyes and pinned Remus with a look that was slowly becoming very familiar. That look that said he wanted to say something but he was choosing his words carefully.

Remus was pretty sure he knew what that meant. So far, everything he’d blabbed about the night before had been skillfully avoided—mostly by Remus averting his eyes every time Sirius looked at him like that. He wasn’t looking away now though. Wasn’t sure he could, honestly; not with such intensity and thinly-veiled concern directed his way. Sirius opened his mouth, the words starting to form at the back of his throat when Remus’ phone pinged.

He jumped slightly and went to quickly fish it out of his pocket, holding on to the getaway it provided. Talking about his behaviour or the few hints he’d let slip about his past was not something he was ready to tackle. A quiet sigh dropped from Sirius’ lips as he got up to take the plates back to the kitchen, while Remus stared at the notification flashing on his home page. “Oh, Padfoot just uploaded a new video?”

The sound of ceramic banging in the sink startled Remus into looking up. “Um...you ok?”

“Yes! Too much soap,” Sirius’ voice came back, muffled slightly by the running water.

Remus snorted and got comfortable on one end of the couch, resting his back on the side and pulling his knees up. He wiggled his toes as he waited for the page to load, digging them into the plush sofa and then tapping his feet when the video finally started. It began like usual, with the starting screen of a game and Padfoot’s cheerful voice.

“Hello everyone and welcome! You’ve all been nagging at me to play with Prongs more often, so I hope you appreciate how much effort it took to get his ass out of bed.”

“That’s so not the introduction I was expecting,” another voice complained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did you want to do it?”

“Why, yes, thank you. Hello y’all! By popular demand and because I know you like me more than this silly goose, I am here to play some games and have fun! Mostly at Padfoot’s expense.”

“You’re the only person in the world who could say ‘silly goose’ and not have everyone laughing at them.”

“I know, it’s a skill I honed for years.”

“What the hell,” Remus laughed, shaking his head fondly.

Sirius came back into the room, drying his hands absentmindedly on his pants as he took his seat back. He sat at the very edge of the cushion, leaning slightly forward with his hands clasped between his knees, eyes down.

Remus made a questioning sound, waving the phone in front of him. “Do you mind?”

“No,” Sirius croaked, gesturing with his hand for him to go on as he cleared his throat.

A small line of confusion pulled Remus’ brows together. Something was definitely going through Sirius’ mind. Deciding to give the man some time, Remus focused his attention back on the video and made a note to ask later if something was bothering him.

Padfoot was talking about the game they were going to play and Remus could feel his energy even through the screen. He always got like this when he was trying something new. Remus pictured him bouncing on his chair, waiting impatiently to start playing, tapping the buttons in anticipation. “He’s like a kid on sugar, isn’t he?” he said without thinking.

A cough came from Sirius’ spot. “Well, I… I think it’s...nice? He sounds happy.”

The corners of Remus’ lips tugged up in a small smile at that. “Yeah. That’s good.”

“Huh?”

“He didn’t seem his usual self in the past few streams. I’m just glad he’s ok, is all.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Remus saw how Sirius’ hands gripped his knees tightly, slipping through the holes in his jeans. Remus watched in silence but, just when he was about to ask what was going on, the video changed. A small square appeared on one of the corners, showing a man sitting in a chair, not much to see in the background, his face covered with the black dog that was his signature logo. Remus sat up straighter. It wasn’t often that Padfoot appeared in his videos and he couldn’t help the interest that sparked inside him whenever it happened. He scanned the small image until something caught his eye.

“Huh? ...Wait. That’s—” Remus froze for a second before promptly throwing his phone to the other end of the couch. “Oh my God.” He covered his mouth, feeling the pull of his mouth as a grin lit up his face, his wide eyes not leaving the small device lying innocently face up. “Oh my God, oh my God.”

“What happened?”

Remus turned to see Sirius looking at him with a confused little smile, probably wondering if he was still drunk or just bonkers.

“He...he’s wearing my merch. My merch.” And one of his favourite hoodies from the collection, at that. “How—How does he even know about me? I know he likes to keep in shape but…”

The faintest blush crossed Sirius’ cheeks. He rubbed his hands together, looking down at them and then back up at Remus’ still astounded face. He took a deep breath and exhaled in one go. “You know, I’m...” He trailed off, mouth opening and closing a few times.

Remus tried to bring his thoughts back to the room, to the man in front of him and not the one on the screen. He bent forward to grab the discarded phone, his mind still reeling as he paused the video. “Yeah?” he prompted Sirius to go on when he straightened back up, smile still in place—he wasn’t sure he could wipe it off even if he wanted to.

Sirius’ grey eyes roamed his face, then went to the phone in his hands before they finally settled on his bright expression and he sighed, smiling and shaking his head. “No, nevermind.”

Remus tilted his head, but Sirius simply shrugged. “Are you sure? You can say it, whatever it is.”

“I don’t think it’s the right time,” Sirius admitted, letting his head fall back as he worried his lip.

Curiosity flared up, dazzling and hot, and Remus tried to water it down, unwilling to trespass Sirius’ boundaries. Instead, he looked down and tried to organise his whirring mind, eyes going to the clock on his phone. “Fuck,” he muttered. He really wanted to finish watching and keep talking with Sirius, but it was getting late. “I should probably get going.”

“Oh,” Sirius blinked as he raised his head up. “You can stay if you want to.”

“No, I…” Remus stood up. “I should go get the key from Leo. I will probably see both his mom and mine, which means it won’t be a short visit and I’d like to be at the clinic as soon as possible.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Stopping midstep, Remus turned to look at Sirius, eyebrows raised. “Come with me?”

“Yeah, to the clinic? You are not too fond of them.”

It wasn’t a question, but Remus replied anyway, surprised that Sirius had caught on to that at all. “No, I’m not,” he said, dumbfounded. He shook his head. “But it’s ok, you did a lot for me already.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Remus, anyone in my place would have done the same.”

No, they wouldn’t.

“It’s fine, really. Leo will probably come with me,” he said. He wasn’t sure how Sirius could think that everyone was that selfless, that any person would have helped an almost stranger without thinking it was too much effort. Remus chose not to say anything about it, knowing fully well that was not the case.

#my one in a million #moiam #fanfic #remus x sirius #siriusxremus #sirius x lupin #wolfstar fic #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

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thesunshinebunny · 3 years

Note

How about NRC putting on a talent show every year for the students and MC/Yuu/Reader putting on a proper "show", going up on stage alone, singing and dancing like a real Kpop star. How dorm leaders would react along with the freshmen since at no point did MC tell them that they were going to participate????

I can’t tell you if you were lucky with the exit of chapter 5 or that you are simply a fortune teller dear anon. But I'm going to tell you something that I am sure of ... this type of request is MY JAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAM

WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW NIIICE !!!!

I recommend listening to the following song since for this one-short I relied on it

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6mxAlX7Zeco&ab_channel=LeagueofLegends

Second Part

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The show had been a success. Neige had gone up to conquer his fans and record producers, his tender figure had fallen in love the entire public. But when it came time for Vil and the other boys ... the arena was on fire. They shone, there is no other word to describe their performance. It was hypnotic to see them move with such synchronization, even Grim was dancing as if his life depended on it, incredible that just two weeks ago this cat couldn’t coordinate his two hind legs.

There wasn’t much more to say, the boys were excellent, I was envious I couldn’t have gone up with them. Yes, I was completely mad at Vil for not letting me participate, as according to him, I wasn’t going to fit in well in the group given my vocal chords and my intonation. Now I would show him the serious mistake he made. With the applause reverberating over the audience, the boys emerged one by one, Vil being the last one taking his characteristic super model steps.

"That was great, we have to repeate it one day" Kalim was overflowing with joy. You could see in his eyes that he had enjoyed it.

"Stay calm Kalim" Jamil as always trying to calm him down and prevent him from spreading so much happiness.

“(Y / N) did you see us? Did you like the show? I think we did great. ”Ace, Deuce and Grim approached me from all sides, huge smiles on their faces. I was very happy for them, even proud of what they had accomplished.

"Excuse my daring, I know we are all charged with adrenaline, but I couldn't help but observe that you, mon ami, look completely beautiful"

It was a matter of time until Rook or Vil noticed my appearance. Transparent black top with details in the chest area, iridescent violet choker hiding the neck of the top, black cut leggings and two-inch platforms. Matching makeup with violet, black and turquoise colors.

"Did you produce yourself for the occasion?" Vil showed a look of pride, apparently my clothing was of his approval.

"Mmmm, something like that"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see how my team was coming to the stage. Ortho was standing behind the light panel and Lilia over the music control, while three freshmen from Pomefiore were positioning themselves to go out into the audience.

"Hurry (Y/N) we are about to go out"

The guys in front of me stared puzzled, not understanding much of the situation. Before anyone could open their mouths, we heard Mr. Crewel make a short announcement over the speakers:

“To end this beautiful day, we called our last guest and their companions to the stage. Please give (Y/N) (L/N) a big round of applause”

With a smile I looked towards where the Pomefiore students were leaving for the stage, gradually getting into their positions. On the other hand, I slightly saw Ortho and Lilia, both of them raised their thumbs, a sign that everything was ready. The lights in the entire stalls were turned off, leaving a single diffuse purple light on the stage where I was supposed to be placed.

Before going out into the audience, I looked at the boys and said in the most self-centered and proud voice that I could:

"It's show time"

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

It was shocking to see from the stage how not only the students but also guests and families were approaching us in a superhuman way. But what almost perplexed me was the fact that I found the dorm leaders off to one side from the stalls, as if they had a secluded place just for themselves. Vil had arrived in the blink of an eye, I'll have to make a mental note to ask how he did it.

I was very surprised to see Leona and Idia, perhaps the last one decided to leave his cave when he knew his little brother would be helping me put on a show. If I didn’t expect to see Leona, I was expected for that damn lion was to be lying in his room, without the slightest intention of seeing the show.

Now I'm a bit nervous.

The same was in the case of the teachers, they were watching from a high audience, avoiding the congestion of people around them.

Already in position, microphone in ear, encouraging smiles from my dance partners and some nerves that ran through my spine, I was ready to put on my best show.

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

Unbeknownst to me, the first-year one braincell boys had arrived in time to sneak into the front row, even Sebek who was being grabbed by the arm by Epel. From where they were he could see Malleus directly, so he didn't care much about being led to where they were.

Ace and Deuce were already looking puzzled, still unable to understand the situation. At no time had they found out that their magicless friend was going to participate in this contest, much less alone (although in reality you were accompanied, but you understand)

And ... As you said before ...

Show time

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Coming at you live Real real wild Here to light it up Set the world on fire Gonna break rules And hearts in twos 'Cause that's what the baddest do

Vil was the first to react and in the worst way: his soul fell to the ground to hear your voice intoning perfectly with the music and how the way Lilia was playing the sound made your intonations reverberate much more than possible. He was internally cursing himself for not involving you in his group, you would have been a great companion, he would even have put your own solo.

He was just as impressed by the physical ability that not only you had, but his dorm residents as well. He was proud of his first-year boys, but in the same way he was going to repress them at the end of the day for didn’t warned him they were going to participate ... but between us, it will be nothing more than a reprimand of a few seconds, since inevitably he would congratulate them.

Kalim was amazed, he had never seen a choreography like this and in his seventeen years he saw countless dances in many parties. His eyes shone at the sight of you moving as if your life depended on it, and the fact that you could sing without getting tired after so much hustle ... impressive. When the show was over, he would go directly to ask you to teach him how to move that way, just as he would return the favor by teaching you traditional dances from his native land.

Pretty face 걸어들어와 유행 선두자 원하지만 못하잖아 애가 타잖아 You like "whoa" KALI you the GOAT 난 알지 I know

Azul's and Riddle's mouths almost reaches the floor. Not only were they impressed by your dancing and the amazing, powerful song you were singing, but they felt like they ascended to heaven by hearing you sing in Korean. Neither of them knew that you had such a capacity, and although they knew very little about the language, they understood you perfectly.

Likewise, Riddle was completely flushed. He wasn’t used to seeing this type of show and looked almost hypnotized as your body moved at an almost vertigo rate. Azul on the other hand was as fascinated as Kalim, not to the point of asking you to teach him to dance, the very poor man can barely walk with his new two human feet; but he was interested in having some business matters with you, maybe introducing you once or twice a week at the Monstro Lounge… who knows.

Sorry for the bad news, sorry I'm so bad Only took a minute for me to get what you had Sorry for the bad news, know it makes you sad I'll be here for a minute, baby, you should pack your bags

At some point during this incredible show you caught eyes with Leona, who, to tell the truth, had his trademark smirk on his face. He really liked what he was seeing, not everyone could have the stamina to sing and dance that way. Lowkey impressed. He smiled sincerely at you, or that's what his smile conveyed, and sent you moral support by shaking his head. Beside him, Idia was biting his nails annoyingly. He was mentally kicking his butt for not having brought in incandescent lights, the same lights that are used at idol concerts.

As for Malleus… let's just say he was having a good time, after all. Even not understanding much of this kind of event, he enjoyed watching you dance and sing so happily, an act that he didn't have the pleasure of witnessing so much.

Look at the gold all on my chest Look at the gold, call it a flex

The entire state completely exploded. The clapping and screaming overwhelmed your ears. Among the people you noticed the first years clapping and giving you their full support like a bunch of crazy people. The leaders clapped too, each at their own pace, some more invigorating and some more proud.

721 notes · View notes

koolkat9 · 3 years

Text

GerEng Week 2021: Day 5

Prompt: Gone

Word Count: 1119

Rating: T

Author’s Note: CW reference to kidnapping and being drugged (against one’s will), but only through some dialogue (so no details).

All’s Found

“And then I said...Arthur, are you even listening?” Francis sighed in annoyance.

It took Arthur a moment to register that he was being spoken to. “Oh...uh...sorry.”

Francis’ eyes softened at the lack of comeback from his friend. He had hoped after a year Arthur would have started to go back to normal, but that was wishful thinking. Francis couldn’t imagine how it felt to have a lover missing, abducted, or potentially something worse.

It was a mysterious case. Ludwig, Arthur’s fiancee, had gone out to walk their dog only for the dog to return home distressed and without Ludwig. When Arthur went looking and the police joined the search they found barely any leads and the ones they did led them to dead ends. Today marked one year since that night and Arthur hadn’t been his usual, fiery self since.

“I know this is hard on you. Maybe you should start considering that we won’t-”

“How dare you even consider that,” Arthur growled dangerously.

“I’m just saying. You’re miserable. You don’t eat, barely sleep unless Afonso or I come over. You can’t keep living like this.” Arthur opened his mouth to protest but Francis went on. “Don’t forget, Ludwig was my friend. I miss him almost as much as you do, but we can’t keep going on like this.”

The Brit huffed, crossing his arms and leaning against the back of his chair. He was not going to have this argument today of all days.

After a moment, Francis spoke up again, “I’m sorry...Today’s probably not the best day to have this discussion. But please...at least consider talking to a therapist or something.”

“Whatever.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence, Arthur’s bitterness hanging over both of them like a cloud. It wasn’t until Arthur’s phone started ringing that it was finally broken.

“Hello...Woah Gil what’s wro-” Arthur’s eyes went wide as he let his phone drop to the floor.

“Arthur, what the hell?” Francis hissed. No answer. “Arthur? Arthur, what's the matter?”

Arthur remained silent. With a huff, Francis picked his friend’s phone to find Gilbert sobbing on the other end.

“Mon ami? What’s going on?”

“Ludwig...They found Ludwig.”

Francis couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He looked back at Arthur who was still in shock. “We’re on our way,” Francis whispers, barely audible before hanging up the phone and guiding Arthur to the car.

---

Arthur, like most people, never liked hospitals. They always made him anxious, having been one too many times during his mother’s final years. But now, those nerves were accompanied by a sliver of hope. Ludwig was in this very building. After what felt like an eternity, Arthur would be able to see him once more.

He didn’t even bother to greet Gilbert and instead made his way to Ludwig’s room. With each step, his knees seemed to become weaker and his vision more blurry. By the time he got to the door, he felt as though he would collapse from all the emotions coming forward. He opened the door quietly in case his long-lost lover was asleep.

Ludwig laid on the hospital bed, completely relaxed and eyes closed. His hair hung in his face, his cheeks were becoming hollow from lack of proper nourishment, his face unnaturally pale, but other than that he seemed fine.

“Bruder?” Ludwig called, his voice hoarse and low.

“N-N-No,” Arthur managed to reply. He began stumbling towards the bed, tears now falling. He collapsed onto the floor beside the bed, gripping at the sheets and breaking out into loud sobs. He was so overwhelmed that he barely noticed when Ludwig’s hand tangled itself in his hair.

“Arthur…” Ludwig murmured, only for his words to fall on deaf ears. Instead, Arthur began to mumble Ludwig’s name over and over, his words barely coherent. “Arthur...hey...look at me.”

“Please tell me this is real,” Arthur sniffs, “I-I don’t want to look and you disappear.”

“It's real. At least I think it is...Hard to say since I don’t think the drugs are out of my system quite yet.”

“Drugs?” Arthur shrieked, shooting up. His concern didn’t last long as his eyes locked with Ludwig’s pale blue ones. They were just as bright as they were the night he lost him. “Oh, Ludwig…”

The German tugged at Arthur’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Arthur still couldn’t believe this was real. “I...I missed you so much,” he breathed, bringing Ludwig’s hand to his lips to place a soft kiss on it. “I...I was starting to think...but I didn’t even want to think...I...Oh gosh, this all feels like a dream...I’ve dreamed about this, about you for so long I...I’m scared that I’m going to wake up and you’ll be gone-” Arthur’s blubbering was cut short by Ludwig pulling him in for a kiss.

Arthur pressed back, his hands finding their way to Ludwig’s cheeks only to find them wet with tears. The Brit felt his own tears start to fall again. For a few moments that’s all they did. Kiss each other, hold each other and cry against each other’s lips. But eventually, they settled and pulled away from each other to catch their breaths.

“So...what happened?” Arthur asked.

“I...I don’t even remember. I barely remember anything from this past...year. I can’t even believe it's been that long. One minute, I’m walking Berlitz, the next I feel something sharp at the back of my neck and I pass out. There are some occasional moments of clarity, but all I remember from those times is a dark room and muffled voices. Then there was when I was loaded into the ambulance and now I’m here.”

“Any injuries?”

“Not that I know of. I think they’re keeping me here since whoever had me kept me heavily drugged and I’m a little disoriented.”

Arthur sighed in relief. ‘Thank God,’ he thought to himself. Was this the best-case scenario? No. But it was better than him turning up dead. Was it terrifying to not know what Ludwig had gone through? Yes. But maybe it was for the best. Less weight on Ludwig’s mind. 'None of that mattered right now' Arthur told himself. Ludwig was safe, alive, and right here in front of Arthur after a whole year apart. “Well you’re safe now,” Arthur stated, assuring himself as much as Ludwig. “The police I’m sure are already looking for the culprits and-”

“Can we not talk about it anymore?”

“Lud?” There was a pained look in the German’s eyes and Arthur agreed to drop. “Of course love.”

Ludwig immediately brightened at the pet name. “Now how have the dogs been?” he asked.

Arthur couldn’t help but smile. Ludwig, after everything was still Ludwig and Arthur couldn’t have asked for more.

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a-edgar-allan-hoe · 4 years

Text

The Red Witch

Jasper Hale x Reader Part 4

A/N: Part 4 has arrived my lovelies! Sorry if it took too long, I was really busy with work. And I just wanna say, even though I have never met you all, I love you guys and wish you a blessed life. 🥺💕

Summary: Imagine being an immortal witch from the Middle Ages and being the previous love of Jasper before he was turned. You two were separated under certain circumstances and cross each other’s path once again, years later in the present era.

Warning: language

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

The apparition faded away and the shaking of the furniture came to a stop. You felt the heavy weight lift off your chest as you were finally able to move, allowing you to take in a gulp of cold air. The scream that was trapped within you for so long from the paralyzing sensation was ripped out of your throat, echoing into the night. You yanked yourself out of bed and fell to the floor, wheezing and trembling as you clasped a clammy hand around the base of your throat, clawing at the invisible hand that seemed to be wrapped around in a tight grip. It felt as if your head was about to burst as you tried to regain your breathing. Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen as you heard the door bust open and Harper run in.

“(Y/N)?! Are you okay? What’s going on?!” Harper cried out in a panic, her brows etched in worry as she saw you shaking on the floor.

“Harper. Stay back.” You struggled to say between coughs. You looked down to see your hands returning to their claw like shape, the black tendrils forming at the skin of your fingers.

Your vision slowly cleared up and you looked up to see Melanie enter your room next with a lantern in her hand. She stared at you with wide eyes as she held Harper behind her. “Mon dieu! (Y/N)! Is everything alright? I heard a warning through the trees. They spoke of a presence.”

You were still on the cold wooden floor on your hands and knees, still trembling in cold sweat as your hair fell over your face in a tangled mess.

“Those. Those things. They’re back.” You sobbed as tears fell down your face and onto the wooden floor. You didn’t want to look up at your sister. She’s never seen you like this and you were thankful in the short moment for the darkness.

“Those things? You mean the spirits? (Y/N), mon amie.” Melanie carefully stepped towards you, trying to reach a comforting hand towards you to rest on your back.

“No!” You stopped her. “Please. Don’t. I need to be alone.”

“(Y/N).” You heard Harper call your name.

“Please.” You begged, turning your face away from their stares.

“If you’re sure. Allez Harper.” Melanie muttered before putting an arm around Harper’s shoulders and leading her out of your room and leaving you to yourself with one last saddened glance. It broke her heart to see you in this vulnerable state.

Melanie offered to take Harper to school as you felt you were unable to. You felt ashamed. You felt weak. That morning, you sat on a chair out on your balcony, wrapped in a shawl with Maleficent curled in your lap, watching the sunrise. The sun peeked out over the horizon, illuminating the dark hills in the distance with a golden glow that slipped through the bundle of trees. You felt the warm rays of the sun touch your face against the coolness of dawn, like the gentle caress of a loved one, which is something you’ve never had the ability to experience, and yet, a wave of relief washed over you. You didn’t know why, but you sensed as if there was a bit of hope left to this day, that it might turn around for the better. You thought perhaps that it might be due to the end of the night and the coming of a new day.

After sitting out and basking in the scenery for a while longer, you went back into your bedroom and threw over your nightgown a floor length dark blue velvet robe that had embroidered flowers and hummingbirds at the collar, cuffs, and hem, tying it around your waist. You then put the front strands of your hair back, tying it with a blue silk ribbon.

You wandered mindlessly through the halls of your manor with Maleficent accompanying you at your side, your bare feet tapping against the cool dark walnut floors and occasionally brushing upon the soft handmade wool Turkish rugs that slightly tickled your bare feet. The skirts of your attire flowed with your every step while you lightly hummed to yourself, until you stopped at a particular room.

You stared at the large double doors before you that led to a surprisingly decent sized area that could be held as a ballroom. You pushed open the doors and glanced around at the tall windows before landing on a large object that sat in the back corner. Your grand piano. You walked over to it and pulled the dust cover off, running your fingers lightly across the keys before sitting down on the bench. You sat there for a moment, pondering, your fingers shifting above the keys. You breathed and started to play a meloncholy tune and began to sing. You haven’t sang or played the piano in a long time, not since Jasper at least. But you were currently so melted in your music, playing along with your eyes closed that you didn’t notice the person walking up to your front door this very moment.

Jasper stood under the porch at the front door of what he believed to be your residence. His eyes observed the intricate wood carvings and the detailed exterior work, and the somewhat sinister looking greenman door knocker that Jasper could’ve sworn was staring him down. Your home reminded him of a time he used to know, back before all of this. Jasper was about to ring the doorbell but stopped when he heard the sound of a piano come from inside. He leaned closer, and that’s when he heard your voice. Your hypnotic yet haunting voice that resonated beautifully with the melody, creating this ethereal sound. He pressed his ear against the door and his breath cut short. He was entranced to say the least from this beautiful voice. Yet, why did he feel as if he heard your voice many times before.

You were still lost in your music until you heard Edgar’s voice coming from the living room.

“Ack! There’s an intruder at the door! Someone has invaded our premises! Ack!

Intruder?

You stopped and snapped your head towards the entrance. Who could it be?

“Have you gone deaf? Intruder I say! Intruder! Intruder!”

“Silly bird.” You muttered, throwing on your gloves and cursing under your breath.

You secretly hated having to converse with visitors you did not expect nor know. The same went to Maleficent for she ran off once Edgar mentioned someone being at the door.

“I’ll have you know there’s a sign out that strictly says no soliciting.” You call out as you walk towards the door. Now unless you have Girl Scout biscuits I want no part of it.”

You unlocked the door and yanked it open, only to stand in shock to see none other than Jasper himself at your doorstep.

“Hi.” He gave a short smile as he studied your flushed face. His eyes roamed down your attire, the way your long thick hair cascaded over your bare collarbone and down your chest, and the way the loose strands in the front curled delicately about, framing your face. He quickly looked back up at you as to not seem rude but stopped at the locket around your neck. There was a slight tingling in the back of his mind regarding the locket with the dragonfly but he couldn’t figure out why.

As for you, though you were modestly covered, you felt exposed and couldn’t help the blush that spread across your cheeks. Jasper had never seen you in your night attire. A situation such as this would’ve caused quite the scandal back then.

“Uh, can I help you?” You played it off, adjusting your robe to cover your collarbone. “I believe the coffee shop is downtown. You do know you’re at my personal residence don’t you?”

“Um, can I speak to you for a moment?” He seemed uneasy.

“Um sure. Come in.” You stuttered, the question catching you off guard.

You opened the door wider for him to come in, and your heart skipped a beat as you felt him brush by you.

You closed the door and turned to him, clasping your hands together and fidgeting with your fingers. You were quite nervous having Jasper in your home. “Would you care for some tea? Or coffee?”

“I’ll have some coffee, thanks.”

“Okay, um, you’re welcome to have a seat in the parlour room, on the settee, or whichever.” You gesture to your room with the fireplace and the set of Victorian chairs with tables.

“Thank you.” Jasper nodded his head at you before heading into the room. You made your way to the kitchen and made yourself a cup of blueberry lemon tea and a regular coffee for him, cursing in your mind during the whole task.

After the drinks were prepared, you went into the Parlor to see Jasper slightly reclined on the settee, his gazed fixed on the crackling fire in the fireplace.

You tried not to tremble when handing him his drink. Jasper thanked you as you handed him his coffee before sitting down on a dark red velvet chair across him.

You both sat there in silence, struggling to find the words to say.

“Why the gloves?” He nodded towards your hands.

“Oh um. I have very sensitive skin.” You’ve always used that excuse whenever someone asked you.

More silence.

Was he skeptical of you? You didn’t know why he was here wanting to speak with you, but it was starting to become unsettling.

“Who are you?” He asked first, still staring off into the fireplace.

“I’m sorry?” You faked a smile, “I own a coffee shop downtown.”

“No. That’s not what I meant.” Jasper stopped before turning to face you. “Who are YOU?” He emphasized.

There was a certain coldness to his gaze and it made you cold. This wasn’t like Jasper.

“I-I” you tried to come up with something, anything.

“Ever since I first saw you, I’ve had this strange feeling.” Jasper laughed bitterly with a shake of his head. “Hell, I don’t even know you, and you sure as hell don’t mean anything to me.”

Ouch. That hurt.

You felt your chest tighten from those words, but you kept your ground. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, I feel like you do. It explains why you’re so nervous at the moment.” He gestured to you. “I can sense these sort of things. So, tell me. Why is it that I feel like I know you when I don’t. And how come, how come you don’t smell human? What are you?”

You straightened up in your seat as your vision from last night flashed in your mind.

We are monsters. He could never love a thing like you. No one can.

So it’s true, you told yourself. You weren’t human, no matter how hard you tried to be. They could never accept you as one. Your father used to say the same thing. His disdain for the human race was evident and he held a great pride about him for being a powerful sorcerer. He would tell you to not meddle in mortal affairs. He tried to mold you into his ways. Which is why you spent your childhood locked up, away from humanity and only surrounded by your father’s sadism. Had you not had your mother, your poor kind hearted mother who was bound to your evil father, you might’ve turned out just like him. You often pondered upon it. And now, you were wondering whether your fathers words were true or not. Was he right about the human’s hatred for your kind?

“Jasper.” You breathed out, you couldn’t stop yourself from saying his name. You were torn apart, tears forming at the corner of your eyes as you stared down at the cup of tea in your hands.

“Ah, so you do know me.” He sat back, his stern eyes never leaving yours.

“I-I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Well you could start from the beginning.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you won’t?”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Look.” Jasper sighs, running his hands through his hair. “I just want to know what the hell is going on.”

“I can’t. I literally can’t tell you even if I tried.” You set your tea down on the table as you tried to explain yourself. “All the words I say will have no effect over you.”

“Great. So what? Am I supposed to just shrug it off? Pretend like all these feelings I’m getting from looking at you is just a bunch of delusions?”

You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath. “There is another way.”

“What other way?”

“But it can be a dangerous process.”

“How so?”

“I can try to reach into your mind and try to resurface your memories.” You revealed to him. “But, if something were to go wrong, you could lose everything. Even any knowledge of who you are.”

“You what? How?” Jasper looked at you confused. “What do you mean reach into my memories? You’re not a vampire.”

“I promise you, when this goes according to plan, I will explain everything.”

You got up and sat next to him on the settee, your head pounding in your chest as you placed your gloved hands on either side off his head. “I’m going to need you to stay still. This may sting a bit.”

Part of you didn’t want to do this. Trying to unwind the memory spell on Jasper meant that you would have to relive those memories you shared with him all over again. And you weren’t sure your heart could take this torment.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You asked him one final time.

There was a pause as you watched Jasper look away, weighing the decision in his head before looking back up at you.

“Go ahead.”

There was your answer.

You could feel Jasper’s eyes on you as you closed your own, pursing your lips into a firm line in concentration. You tried to keep your hands still on either side of his head as you lightly touched his temples, trying to focus on the first memory you had of him. The day you first saw him in Texas.

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blingywitch · 3 years

Text

The First Step - Chapter III

Here’s chapter three!! I don’t really have a lot to say here but I will say thank you, again, for all the love and enjoy the chapter. <3

The First Step Masterlist & Full Masterlist

Characters and universe belong to, @lumosinlove

—

Present day

Just as any other day, the Gryffindor Lions locker room was as chaotic as it gets. As the Cubs walked in, hand in hand— shifting a bit to fit through the door because heaven forbid they let go of each other, especially at a time like this— they saw their teammates all fooling around and chatting away with each other. In the middle of the room James and Talker seemed to be having some kind of hockey-stick-sword-fight, while also being scolded by Dumo who was trying— and failing— to have a conversation with Sergei. Kuny was laughing at something Nado had shown him on his phone, meanwhile Remus and Sirius were in the back at their stalls, Remus sat down on the floor stretching and Sirius standing next to him, looking at the three who just entered the room— seeming to be the only one to notice that they had.

Logan caught Sirius’ eye from across the room, His eyes the flickered from Logan to Finn and Leo and then to their connected hands. Sirius looked back up at Logan and smiled at him, he knew what was about to happen.

In an attempt to get his teammates attention, Logan cleared his throat— like that was going to work. He tried a second time, this time saying a, “hey! Listen up!” but he was unsuccessful yet again. Sighing, he turned to Finn, who just rolled his eyes playfully and stuck his fingers in his mouth, an ear splitting whistle escaping trough his lips.

That seemed to do the trick. The next moment every head in the room was turned towards the three boys who had just walked in, confused and curious expressions on their faces.

“We have some news.” Finn said, however, never said anything else. Neither did the two boys on either side of him.

“Well... spit it out!” Kasey said from his stall, where he had since gotten up from his split.

“Yeah. You’re killing us here.” James chimed in, the hockey stick from earlier thrown over his shoulders.

Leo smiled and held up his left hand, displaying the shining sliver band that sat on his ring finger. Finn followed his actions and then lifted Logan’s as well, seeing as he was put in some sort of love trance. He will never get over the feeling of seeing his boys with those rings on their fingers— the rings he put there.

“This one,” Finn explained, now pointing a thumb at Logan, “proposed.”

“We’re getting married!” Leo announced a little to loudly, his excitement finally breaking trough the surface.

Silence. Not one of the hockey players said a thing, just shifted on their feet and stared at the Cubs. The only sound in the room being James’ hockey stick clattering against the floor— dropped out of sheer shock. But other than that Finn could have sworn he heard crickets. Logan raised his eyebrows in question, looking around the room he saw that every face was blank, some blinking rapidly at the news that was shared— except for Sirius of course, face splitting smile still on show. And Dumo, who had a small smile slowly spreading across his face. Leo let his own smile fall, but it wouldn’t be gone for long.

It was silent for a few more seconds before Talker yelled, “Well it’s about time!”

And there it was. Within seconds the locker room was ecstatic. Shouts of “Finally!” and “Took you long enough, boys!” filled the room as many shouted their congratulations. Others were jumping around and hugging each other while James had come over and practically thrown Finn over his shoulder, spinning him around and laughing as Finn made a noise of protest, though he was laughing too— how could he not?

Kasey made his way over to Leo and it wasn’t long until he too, was lifted off the ground. “You’re getting married rookie!” He beamed after he had set Leo down, hands on the blonde’s shoulders.

Leo just looked at him, face starting to hurt from smiling so much— was it possible to smile to much in one day? If so he definitely had. “Yeah... yeah, am I.” He said, to quiet to be heard in the turmoil of the locker room.

Logan had been to busy watching his boys in their bliss to notice Dumo walking up to him. “Congratulations, mon fils.” He said, bringing Logan into a hug. “I’m happy for you.”

They stayed there for a while then Logan pulled away, happy tears threatening to fall down his face. “Merci, Dumo.” he sniffed, “Je t’aime.”

Dumo was about to respond but before he could however, was interrupted by James, who in all the chaos, walked back to the centre of the room. About to ask the question he was sure everyone was dying to know the answer to as well. Looking to the Cubs he asked, “Okay boys, details. How and when did this happen?!”

The three boys just laughed, Logan wiped his eyes and Leo attempted to smooth his hair down from all the continuous ruffling. “We’ll tell you all you need to know later. In the meantime... we have practice. I’m sure Coach will be in here any minute asking why we’re all standing around.” Finn responded, picking Logan’s hat off the floor and handing it to him— knocked off sometime during the celebrations.

Everyone groaned but nonetheless got back to getting ready, jittery with anticipation to hear the story the Cubs had to tell.

#lumosinlove #leo knut #o'knutzy #coast to coast lumosinlove #sweater weather lumosinlove #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar

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dcbutinamrev · 3 years

Note

historical lams first kiss one shot?

Fluff ahead! Requests always open!

***

It's around seven in the evening when Lieutenant Colonel Alexander Hamilton discovers his dearest friend Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens was an artist. The family has just finished supper, the maids of the quarters in which they are staying in clears the table and asks any men for more wine. The women find it a surpirse a little that all of them have declined the offer but they nod as they carry away the trays and plates and China glasswear and cups into the kitchen.

General Washington sits at the head of the rather long rectangular table with his hands folded on top of each other under his chin. He smiles apporpriately and nods to each point of a conversation, or shaking his head if he disagrees with the point and suggests his own. The Marquis de Lafayette sits on the left side of him, eyeing the General fondly as he sips the last drops of his wine. Hamilton beisde Lafayette, his knee knocking into Laurens's beside him. Hamilton glannces up at Laurens with a twinkle in his eyes. Laurens glances down at the same time and smiles softly. Major Benjamin Tallmadge, His Excellency's Head of Intelligence, sits beside Laurens and laughs at a joke or bantar Richard Kidder Meade has said, who sits across from them. Tench Tilghman, seated beside Meade, huffs a breath of annoyance as he rolls his eyes at his long time friend's remarks. John Fitzgerald doesn't contribute the conversation but chuckles along as he bites the remaning of his chicken. Robert Hanson Harrison, however, huffs a heavy sigh as he scribbles on a piece of parchement, his quill scratching back and forth.

"Harrison? Still working, are you?" Meade says, a teasing grin on his face.

"Well, I do wish to finish this dispatch for the courier tomorrow morning," Harrison says, dipping the tip of the quill in the ink pot.

"While having dinner?" Tilghman says, crossing his arms and resting them on the wooden table as he leans forward to eye Harrison across from Meade. He raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head to one shoulder. "Won't you worry that food will interrupt your work?"

"No," Harrison replies, flashing Tilghman a reassuring smile. "I am almost done with this letter to Congress. Only a paragraph left."

"Just like Hamilton," Fitzgerald mutters, shaking his head fondly.

"No," Harrison says as he looks up, dotting his lowered case "I". "I am nothing like Hamilton. He would stay up past two in the morning to finish whatever his assignments were and only recieve three hours or so of sleep. An unhealthy schedule I should think."

Hamilton presses his lips together as he narrows his eyes at Harrison, his cheeks turning into a light shade of pink of embarrasment. Laurens chuckles as he pats Hamilton's shoulder and then squeezes it.

"It's true, Ham," Laurens chuckles.

"Yes, but did he really have to call me out like that?" Hamilton snaps.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I did," Harrison says.

"You don't understand the pholosiphy of time, my friend," Hamilton says, leaning forward so his chest is against the table. "Time is prominent. It can go away quickly before you even know it."

Lafayette chuckles as he pats Hamilton's shoulder blade. "Mon petite lion."

"I only speak the truth!" Hamilton says, tossing both hands up as he leans back in his chair.

"Well," the General says. All heads turn towards him and stand as he stands as well, dusting his breeches before his coat. "I believe we shall call it a night. We have a busy day tomorrow with moving the army up towards Philidelphia for the time being and I would much be well rested for the journey. That goes for you as well." The General glances at the others, a curt nod followed by.

"Yes, Your Excellency," the men chorous.

Meade grabs Tilghman by the elbow, thanking the women in the kitchen for dinner before retreating for their bedroom to rest. Lafayette rises, patting Hamilton’s shoulder before following the General up the stairs. Harrison eventually finishes his letter and retires for the evening, leaving only Hamilton and Laurens alone.

“Well,” Laurens says as he lets out a yawn as he rolls up the parchment. Hamilton frowns slightly when he sees Laurens rises from his chair. “I think I shall retire for the night as well.”

Hamitlon nods, never taking his eyes off of Laurens’s stunning bright eyes.

“Do try not to stay up too late tonight, Hamilton,” Laurens says.

“Yes, Mom,” Hamilton grumbles sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Laurens narrows his eyes as he whacks Hamilton against the back of his head with the back of his head. Hamilton winces as he massages the nape of his head.

“Ow! Hey!” Hamilton hisses.

“Bed by midnight!” Laurens snaps, jabbing his finger at Hamilton as he climbs the stairs.

Once Laurens disappears around the corner, Hamilton huffs as he crosses his arms and mimics Laurens’s voice under his breath, “Bed by midnight.”

A few hours later, Hamilton can feel his eyes beginning to droop. He doesn’t know how long it’s been to be exact when he notices a sheet of paper poking out of Laurens’s portfolio he had apparently forgotten.

Hamilton jerks his head up at the sight, raising an eyebrow as he glances around the room to be sure it’s just him and him only. Hamilton presses his lips together as he pinches the corner of the page and slowly pulls it out. Hamilton glances back over his shoulder again before finally unfolding it.

Hamilton tilts his head as he stares at the paper before him, moving the lone candle towards him to shine some more light instead of using the silver pale glow from the moon. Hamilton frowns as he examines the paper, tilting his head as he realizes it’s a drawing. Not just any drawing but a drawing of hands. His indigo blue eyes widen at the sight, his mouth gaping slightly at the beautiful curves of the fingers, the arch of the wrist.

Hamilton glances at Laurens’s portfolio before back up at the stairs and then back at the portfolio. Hamilton wonders if there are any other drawings inside. He goes to reach for it, but a voice stops him.

“Mon ami?” says a familiar French accented voice.

Hamilton yelps with surprise and slams the drawing face down and spins around on his heel but eases when he sees Lafayette standing at the end of the stairs with a candle in hand. Hamilton rests a hand on his chest and puffs out a breath of relief, blinking his eyes fast. Lafayette presses his lips together and frowns worriedly, tilting his head.

“Alexander?” Lafayette questions. “What are you still doing up?”

Hamilton feels his cheeks redden as he scratches the back of his neck. “Um…I was just um…finishing up. I could uh…ask you the same question, Marquis.”

“I was going to fetch myself a mug of warm tea to help me sleep,” Lafayette explains. “I told you. You tell me.”

“I’m finishing up,” Hamilton says as he quickly shoves the paper back into the portfolio as discretely as possible. Lafayette raises an eyebrow. “I told you.”

“Mhm, yes,” Lafayette says as he marches on into the kitchen.

Hamilton blows out a breath. Once he spies Lafayette in the kitchen with his back facing toward him, Hamilton quickly snatches the portfolio up, shoving it under his arm before sprinting up the stairs to the second floor of the house, swinging his bedroom door open before slamming it shut behind him. Hamilton presses his back against the door.

Hamilton closes his eyes, clutching the portfolio to his chest, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm his pounding heart. Once he’s managed to calm down, Hamilton slides down the door and presses the portfolio against his propped up knees. He tilts his head as he traces the outline of the portfolio, before pulling the drawing of the hands back out.

After analyzing every detail the artists has done for the hands, the arch of the fingernails, the creases in the fingers, the curve of the wrist, Hamilton stands and marches over towards his bed, sitting himself down. He places the sketch down and pulls out another sheet.

He gasps at the detail in this one. This one is not only just hands resting on top of each other but from the neck down. It appears the subject is sitting as his chest is pressed against what Hamilton had to guess is a table. He notices a feathered quill in the subjects’ hands. The rough lines of what Hamilton assumes to be is the lapel of the Continental uniform. He can see the buttons drawn in, a simple small circle roughly the size of a shilling. He sees the waistcoat, the lines of fabric for the neck cloth and cravat and Hamilton starts to see the form of a neck.

Hamilton eyes the rough sketch, wondering who the subject is. He sets the portfolio aside and brings the drawing up to his face, his eyes squinting.

“Who are you?” Hamilton asks in both the artist and the subject.

He sets the sketch down and flips the portfolio open again. He pulls out a third one and his eyes practically bulge out of his skull. Hamilton stands abruptly, causing the papers to flutter to the floor and the portfolio to hit the floor with a thud. Hamilton clutches the paper up to his face, staring at it with disbelief. His cheeks warming.

It’s him.

The drawing is of him.

Hamilton stares at his portrait in awe, amazed at the almost accurate details with the curved lines in his hair indicating as his curls, the angles of his face, the light dots of his freckles on his cheeks, the point of nose, the lines for fabric for the cravat and neck cloth, followed by his waistcoat and the dark blue coat with his golden epaulettes on his shoulders.

Hamilton stares at it for a breath, eyes wide and face pale, jaw dropped. Who could’ve…how could someone….? With such little time…?

“Is this…is this what I really look like…?” Hamilton whispers to himself.

“Alexander?” a familiar Southern accented voice says.

Hamilton gasps, startled as he jumps, whipping his head over his shoulder. His eyes widen when he sees Laurens standing in the doorway. Hamilton stands stiff, shoulders hunched, drawing clutched in his hands, face pale as a nervous bead of sweat dripping down the side of his face. Laurens frowns in confusion at Hamilton’s startled expression.

The two stand in front of each other with silence until Laurens’s eyes tick towards his portfolio on the ground.

“Is that…is that my portfolio?” Laurens asks.

Hamilton swallows and avoids Laurens’s question and instead says, “Are you an artist?”

Laurens gapes at Hamilton, confused. He blinks his eyes once.

“I’m sorry, what?” Laurens says.

Hamilton raises an eyebrow. “Are you artist, John?”

Laurens clenches his jaw and swallows. He mutters quietly, “Yes…”

Hamilton grins. “I didn’t know you can do art.”

“You didn’t need to know that,” Laurens snaps.

“Why?” Hamilton asks.

“What?”

“You know what, John,” Hamilton says. “Why me?”

“I…I um…” Laurens’s cheeks redden as he stutters, his tension somewhat relaxing as he scratches the back of his neck. He lifts a shoulder. “We um…we do spend a lot of time together…”

“I think you know the true meaning of my question,” Hamilton says.

Laurens locks his eyes with Hamilton’s as he glances back down. He presses his lips together before sighing defeatedly.

“I…”

“Have you been watching me?” Hamilton suddenly wonders. “How could you have this much time to do—”

“You are singular, Alexander,” Laurens says as he takes two steps towards him, clasping both of Laurens’s hands in his. Hamilton swallows and blushes deeply, his cheeks red as his hair, as he stares up at Laurens, watching Laurens’s lips move as he speaks. “You are unlike anyone I have ever met. Yes. I have watched you. I have watched you every moment I can get. Observing your speech, observing your expressions, observing you as a whole.”

Laurens steps closer so his chest is pressed against Hamilton’s. Hamilton gasps as he stumbles backward and grips Laurens’s shoulders to keep himself steady. He whips his head back up to Laurens.

“Your beauty, your support in not only me but to the family as a whole. Your kindness. Is something I truly admire. I understand completely ignored you should not wish to be near me—”

Hamilton laughs, confused. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, um…I uh—”

Hamilton cuts Laurens off by pressing his lips to Laurens roughly. Laurnes grunts and hisses through his nose with surprise, his arms flying up as he shuffles forward to catch his balance but only ends up tumbling forward onto the bed, Hamilton beneath him and squishing his cheeks, his lips still attached to Laurens’s.

Hamilton pulls back slowly, catching his breath as he grips the base of Laurens’s neck and tips his head down so Laurens could press his forehead against Hamilton’s.

Hamilton grins as he pants, tracing Laurens’s jawline.

“I think they are beautiful,” Hamilton whispers.

Laurens grins. “Thank you.”

“That was…” Hamilton whispers. He pauses, trying to come up with the right word. “Incredible”

He ticks his eyes back up at Laurens’s.

“Incredible…” Laurens breathes. He grins a giddy smile and nods in agreement. “Might I kiss you again…Alexander…?”

Hamilton giggles. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Hamilton giggles as Laurens smashes his lips onto Hamilton’s.

If this were a dream, Hamilton would never want to wake.

#lams #lams fanfiction #historical lams #oneshot #fluff #just pure fluff #pure fluff #read more #asks #anon asks #replies #fanfic writer #amrev #anon replies #oneshot requsts #alexander hamilton #john laurens #requests always open #long post

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schoenheitslut · 3 years

Text

BABYSITTER

note/s :: literally just porn without plot. I vastly underestimated how long this would be. It’s completely self indulgent and based on the babysitter au idea I had earlier. This is probably shit but honestly it was so fun to write now that I don’t feel embarrassed while writing smut.

desc :: mari is a babysitter for epel. after tucking epel in, she finds rook in the kitchen and offers to cook dinner for him. she realizes that her two attractive bosses feel the same way about her.

word count :: 2263

pairing :: beautywings | rookvil x mari

Mari stretched her arms as she exited Epel’s room. It took a bit of time in order to get the rowdy child to bed but she managed to tire him out enough. It was kind of a shame that she didn’t get to tell him a bedtime story like usual but Vil is very strict about the exact time he needs to be asleep. Sometimes it was a little tiring to meet his standards but it was all worth it in the end. The family paid well and Epel was a sweet child.

Her eyes landed on the man sitting in the living room. A small smile graced her lips. “Ah, I see you’re back from work, Mr. Hunt. Have you eaten dinner?” She asked him.

He shook his head, mirroring her smile. He tipped his hat to her in greeting, gazing at her like he usually did. It looked as though he was a predator stalking his prey. But as a hunter, it was just his thing, she reasoned with herself internally. He’s never done anything to harm her. In fact, he was always so charming and sweet. Mr. Schoenheit was a lucky man to have him as a husband.

“Then let me make something for you.”

Mari made her way to the kitchen in order to cook something up for the two of them, as well as Mr. Schoenheit. Hopefully she can perfect her skill in making meals the way her two employers like it, knowing how high the actor’s standards were for everything. As she placed the ingredients onto the counter, she felt a warm breath on her neck, causing her to jolt and drop the ingredients on it. His arms wrapped around her.

“M-Mr. Hunt, what are you doing—”

She was interrupted by him. “Fufu, I’ve always dreamed of getting to know you carnally on this counter. The thought of having you for dinner tonight makes me feel so excited.” He couldn’t mask the giddiness in his voice. His hands roamed her body, groping at every curve.

“Mr. Hunt, you’re married— Ah!” She moaned at him slipping his fingers through her skirt and panties and inside her warmth, massaging her insides. She felt his tongue drag across her neck and collarbone. A heat spread throughout her body from her abdomen.

“Mm, yes. You’re so wet, mon petit lapin,” he cooed as he grinded his hips against hers, pressing his hardness to her ass.

She bit her lip, trying not to be too loud. But accidentally let another moan out when he inserted another finger into her depths. A knot formed in her loins, squeezing tightly and aching for release.

“Let me hear all your beautiful noises, mon chéri. Show me how much of a whore you are,” he whispered into her ear, tickling it lightly. It caused her to gasp. For some reason, she felt her pussy twitch at his words.

But then came the sound of heels clacking against the marble floor. Her heart stopped, recognising the sound and her head whipped up to see the glacial gaze of Mr. Schoenheit piercing through her soul.

She was so fucked.

“Mr. Schoenheit, I’m so sorry—”

Vil glared at his husband. “How dare you start without me, Rook? I should punish you for your impatience.” He walked over and pushed him off of the girl.

“Wha—”

She couldn’t even get a full word in before he pulled her towards him and picked her up, carrying her bridal style to their shared room. “Don’t be so surprised, darling. I hope you really didn’t think we didn’t notice how you look at the two of us with such longing eyes.”

Her cheeks heated up, unsure how to respond to all this but she couldn’t bring herself to protest. He was right. But god, it felt embarrassing to know that they were aware of how she saw them this whole time.

The model laid her on the bed, the silk sheets were more inviting and twice as sensual on her skin. A click sounded from behind them, indicating that the door had been locked.

“Sit down.” His voice was commanding, so much so that his husband immediately sat down on the chair. He pulled his drawer and took out some brilliant red rope before expertly tying his husband in a manner that reminded the girl of shibari, such intricate and detailed patterns were so elegant that she felt unworthy of seeing Rook in such an erotic state. She rubbed her thighs together, trying to calm the rising heat between them.

He tied a blindfold over his eyes, concealing them. Then, Vil turned to her, causing her to tense up. Her breath hitched. “Strip for me. Slowly.”

Mari gulped and nodded, unbuttoning her cardigan one at a time. She took it off, revealing her bare shoulders and started to strip off her dress which left her in her underwear.

He tutted. “They’re decent, but you could do better, my dear.” He eyed her underwear, judging the way the fabric hugged her body, how the color looked against her skin tone, and other things.

“I didn’t exactly expect this to happen, sir,” she spoke, finally able to actually get a whole sentence out.

A frown pulled at his lips. His expression was one of exasperation. “We were meant to wait until I deemed you ready but Rook had gotten too excited, so now I have to punish him for that.”

Vil crossed his arms. “But before we proceed any further, I must ask if you are truly alright with this. You’re allowed to say no if you do not feel comfortable with this. Do not feel pressured by our status as your employers.” He seemed so genuine with his words, like he truly cared about how she felt. “You may go home and forget this ever happened and I can assure you that it won’t affect your job.”

She bit her lip, nodding meekly. “Yeah, I was just shocked that you guys would actually… want this. I’m still having trouble believing this is actually happening.” This felt too good to be true. The two men that she pined for had just suddenly shown that they were interested in her. She wondered if this was just a really spicy dream she was having after being sexually repressed for years. But it was really nice that Vil cared enough for her consent first.

He smirked, leaning closer. His finger hooked underher chin to make her look directly at his lilac eyes that held such lust for her.

“Then we’ll have the whole night to convince you that this is very real.”

His other hand went behind her and unhooked her bra with ease. It fell to the ground with a near silent thud. She shivered, feeling a cool breeze nip at her flesh. He took off her panties as well, dropping them so that she was completely naked.

Vil led her to where Rook was and instructed her to get on her knees in front of him. The girl unzipped his pants and was startled by his thick length springing up, leaking precum. “Place it in between your breasts,” the taller male ordered her. She obliged, leaning closer to get him between her soft mounds. Rook shivered at the contact, his cock twitched lightly.

“Now, lick the tip.”

Mari opened her mouth and circled her tongue over the head, causing the hunter to moan lightly. She then felt a pair of hands snaking down to her nether regions, rubbing circles on her clit. This caused her breath to hitch.

“Take it in your mouth and massage him,” Vil commanded her as he moved closer to her, their bodies had gotten so close that she felt his hardness against her.

She followed his orders. Rook groaned at her actions, wishing that he could see her but the blindfold prevented him from doing that. “Mon ange, please—”

The actor noticed and a mirthful smirk pulled at his glossy lips, enhancing his gorgeous features. “Begging already, are we?” He asked. “How pitiful. Usually you can last hours before you’re even pleading for release.”

“But I suppose it can’t be helped,” he continued on, “You couldn’t even wait until she was ready, and now I have to punish your impatience.”

“You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, got it?” His voice was commanding, so much so that Rook had nodded immediately.

“Keep going,” Vil whispered into the girl’s ear before he looked down at her sopping wet cunt. His fingers entered her, making her gasp around his husband’s cock. “Hm, I see Rook did one thing right. You should be wet enough.”

His hard length pressed against her ass when she continued to tease Rook, who was doing well when it came to holding back. She swirled her tongue around his tip. Looking up at him like this was a glorious sight to behold. His skin shone with sweat and his body was completely ripped. His chest heaved as he breathed. A nice red blush dusted his pale cheeks.

Mari cried out when she felt Vil’s cock enter her. The more intense vibrations around his manhood caused Rook to jolt in pain and pleasure.

Vil waited for her to adjust for a moment before moving his hips to grind against hers. The heat between her legs intensified, raging like a fire. She moaned at the sensation, feeling him hit all the right places.

The hunter wished for nothing more than to be able to see during that moment. It must’ve been quite a sight to see his cock between her soft tits while she sucked the tip as Vil pounded into her from behind. He groaned. “Roi du Poison, please… forgive me.”

Vil hummed before looking down at Mari. “What do you think, dear? Should I?” He asked her before angling his hips upward to hit her g spot.

“I think he learned his les-SON!” Mari felt herself go cross-eyed when he hit that spot within her. The knot tightening in her loins.

“Hmph, you’re certainly forgiving. But fine. As it is your first night with us, you’ll have your way,” he said. He turned to his husband. “You have our permission.”

Upon hearing those words, Rook immediately spilled his seed into her mouth, filling it with his creamy essence.

“Don’t swallow just yet. Take off his blind fold.”

Mari pulled away, tasting the thick saltiness of his cum. She leaned up to remove the blindfold from his eyes. Hunter green irises locked with milk chocolate-hued ones.

“Make him taste himself,” Vil commanded as he leaned down on her shoulder to leave a trail of kisses.

Rook’s eyes darkened with lust and hunger when she closed in on his lips. It was obvious just how eager he was when his tongue entered her wet cavern. He moaned, finding bliss in such an intimate act shared between him and the girl.

“Mon ange, my cum tastes divine on you.”

As they did this, Vil quickened his thrusts, hitting every sweet spot in the process and making her cry out. Her body felt as though it was on fire with every thrust. Her walls hugged his thick cock, tightening around it.

“Mr. Schoenheit… Mr. Hunt…” Mari gasped, breathing heavily as she pulled away from the hunter, his seed dripped onto her breasts. “It feels so good…”

Rook leaned down to lick her bud, nibbling on it lightly. “Oh, my dear slut, you’re doing so well. But please, call us by our first names.” he praised her. She bit her lip.

“Ara? You’ve tightened around me when you were called a slut.” Vil smirked. “Does that mean you want to be treated like one?”

Mari couldn’t answer as the knot tightened more and more, needing release soon.

Smack!

“Ah!”

He gave her an icy glare, slowing his thrusts to a torturous pace. “I asked you a question, whore. I expect you to answer.”

She nodded frantically, desperate for relief. “Yes! Please treat me like your cumslut. I am nothing more than a toy for your pleasure.”

He hummed, smirking. “That wasn’t so hard now, wasn’t it? And for that, you’re allowed to cum now. Remember to thank me for filling you with my seed.”

Vil started going at a brutal pace. Fast squelching noises could be heard. The room was permeated with the scent of sex.

“Ah! Yes, thank you, Vil! Thank you!” Mari cried out repeatedly as she started going cross-eyed with pleasure.

And with one final thrust to her g spot, she squealed. She saw stars in her vision as euphoric bliss engulfed her senses. The knot in her loins snapped. She felt his seed flood her cunt before he slowly pulled out, some cum dripped onto the floor.

Mari panted heavily before collapsing, then was caught by Vil. He brought her over to the bed, laying her on it. Then, he pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“You did well, my dear,” he praised her.

He turned around and started untying his husband’s constraints. The rope dropped to the floor.

Rook got up from the chair and approached her with a smirk. She looked up, a bit confused.

Vil turned to her. “I did say that we had the whole night to convince you after all. Don’t be so surprised.” He sat down, observing them with his lilac eyes.

“Ah, mon petit lapin, how I’ve waited to ravish you for so long.” Rook licked his lips as he neared her. “Now I can do it all night long.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #twst thirst #rook hunt x mc #vil schoenheit x mc #rookvil x mc

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

I just reread that one thing you wrote where Kasey found out Remus wasn't innocent by accidentally reading the message, and now I need the rest of the team finding out that Remus is the kinky one and Sirius just grinning so fucking smugly cos out of all the players, he's the one that gets the kinky fiancé (like Kasey said at the end of the thing) 😂🥰💙

Valentine’s Day Part 2! This is the follow-up to the spicy Coops from earlier--hope you enjoy! Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for hickeys, friendly chirping, and implied smut on many accounts

Sirius had never dreaded going to practice more. He could hardly sit down, and the hickeys that freckled his body and ringed his thighs showed no sign of going away anytime soon. Part of him—a very, very, very small part—wished Remus had gone a little easier, but the rest of him still got a thrill of excitement whenever he saw the marks.

The locker room was quiet when they entered; Sirius tried to hide his slight limp, but he noticed Logan’s wince as he bent to grab his bag off the floor. Kasey lowered himself onto his bench with a slow breath, and even James fiddled with the edge of his shirt instead of pulling it off.

“Loops, you seem to be in good shape,” Finn said with a half-laugh. Remus cleared his throat and, sighing, pulled his shirt off. There was a low whistle. “Damn. Never mind. I guess you’ll be breaking out the turtlenecks, eh?”

Remus’ courage seemed to reassure the others, and within a few minutes most of the shirts and pants had come off, revealing hickey patterns over just about all of them. The chatter started up again, then went dead silent when Sirius removed his own shirt. Talker snorted. “How’re you feeling, Cap? Do we need to get Loops a mouthguard, or…?”

Sirius shot him a mock-glare as he pulled his pads on and a ripple of quiet snickering washed through the room, then died down as Kasey slid his sweats off his legs and revealed a whole fucking handprint on his thigh. “Yeah, yeah, I know,” he huffed. “Haha, very funny.”

Be a good captain, be a good captain, be a good captain—“You’re in good company, Bliz.” He steeled himself and tugged his own pants off, reaching for his under armor and pointedly ignoring the four different jaws that hit the floor.

James leaned over and smacked Remus on the head with his glove. “Dude!”

“Ow! What?”

“Are you trying to eat him alive?” When Remus hesitated, James hit him again. “Bad Loops!”

“Alright, we’re all adults here,” Sirius interrupted. “It was Valentine’s Day, things happened to everyone. Let’s all agree not to speak of what we see in the locker room today, okay?” There were a few murmurs of agreement. “Okay?”

“Yes, Cap,” they chorused.

“Good talk.”

Ten minutes later, Arthur knocked on the doorway and poked his head in. “Hey, guys. It has come to my attention that yesterday was Valentine’s Day, so I wanted to apologize if I interrupted any plans you may have had. That being said, this is a professional team—Potter, what’s on your hip?”

James swallowed hard. “Nothing, Coach.”

“Are you hurt?” Across the room, Leo stifled his laughter in his elbow. “I can call Hestia—”

“It’s, uh, a bite mark,” James said at last, staring at the floor.

Arthur’s eyebrows rose. “Excuse me?”

“A bite mark. From my wife.” He shrugged his jersey on and grimaced a little. “I thought we would have two days for it to go away.”

Arthur’s eyes flickered around the room and settled on Logan. “Tremblay, you’re favoring your left leg.”

“Yes, Coach.”

“You’re not hurt, either?”

“Nope.”

And then Arthur’s gaze fell on Sirius. “Cap. Your ankle’s not causing that scowl, is it?”

“No, Coach, it’s not.”

Arthur sighed and glanced down at his clipboard. “Holy fuck.”

“Yes, it was,” Dumo said under his breath with a smirk. Both Logan and Sirius turned to him in abject horror.

“Everyone, stand up.” Arthur ran a hand down his face as they all shakily got to their feet; Sirius bit his lip and leaned on the side of his stall for balance. Oh, Lupin, I hope you’re proud of yourself. There was a beat of silence before he shook his head. “Practice is called off, seeing as half of you apparently got laid so good you can’t walk. I expect you to work twice as hard on Monday, alright?”

“Yes, Coach,” they said in unison.

Arthur took a last look at them and a smile twitched at his mouth, then devolved into full-blown chuckling. “Oh, fuck, this is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen. Good for you, boys. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

They could still hear him laughing as he walked down the hall and immediately began stripping their gear off with sighs of relief. Logan outright groaned as he pulled his sweats back on and Sirius saw Leo’s pupils dilate. “Easy there, Knut,” he teased. Leo made a face. “What, you don’t have a comeback? That’s a first.”

“I’m taking a day off,” Leo rasped.

Finn went vibrant red and Kasey’s eyes got huge. “You good, baby rookie?”

“A-okay.” Leo gave him a thumbs-up and took a long drink of water. “It was worth it.”

“Yeah, I bet,” Remus muttered with a sly grin.

“Oh, you are in no place to talk—”

“At least I can talk!”

“At least he’s got his thighs intact, unlike some people!” James cut in.

Kasey raised his eyebrows. “Should I give Lily a call and ask for details? I’m sure she’s got a real fun story for us.”

“Should I give Nat a call and ask how her hand is doing?” he countered.

“What happened to being adults about this?” Sirius asked as he zipped his bag up. “Because if we’re forgoing that, I’d love to see Logan try and sit down.”

Logan narrowed his eyes and tilted his chin toward Sirius’ legs. “I’m three seconds away from asking how those lines got so crisp. Try me, Cap."

Talker whistled. “Low blow.”

“No, a low blow would be calling my sister and asking if she’s currently at her own apartment,” Logan said smoothly, though he fixed Talker with a look that could curdle milk. “Watch it.”

“It’s times like these that I’m grateful none of you want to know about my sex life,” Dumo said as he stood. “Because last night was—”

“No!” half the locker room shouted at the same time. Packing was quick after that—nobody wanted to stick around any longer than necessary and risk being chirped for their various kink giveaways. Sirius practically broke the speed of sound while he changed back into his cozy pants.

Logan caught up to him just as they were leaving the locker room with a devilish smile. “So, was it garters or thigh highs?” he muttered, keeping his eyes on their respective partners up ahead.

“None of your business, you nosy little shit.”

“I’m guessing thigh highs.”

“And I’ve got several guesses for why Leo can’t get more than three words out, but unlike you, I know how to hold my tongue.”

“Were they comfortable?”

Sirius sighed through his nose. “Very.”

“Hmm. I might have to get some of my own.”

He actually laughed aloud at that—Remus and Finn glanced back, confused. “You’re already having trouble walking, mon frère. Let’s not make it worse on you.”

“Hey!” Logan jogged a bit to keep up as Sirius increased his pace, both wincing a little. “I would look fucking incredible!”

“Not as good as I did.”

“What are we talking about?” Leo asked, falling back to join the conversation.

“Knutty, I’d look good in thigh highs, right?” Logan demanded. Finn choked on air and Leo’s eyes went a little unfocused at the thought. “Right?”

“Point proven,” Sirius said with a smirk, ruffling his hair. “See you Monday!”

“I’d look better than you!” he called after Sirius.

“Oh, no you wouldn’t!” Remus shot back, tucking his hand in Sirius’ pocket as they headed for the door.

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years

Text

A Place to Belong Chapter 29: Caitlin

Content warning: this chapter contains detailed descriptions of infant death.

Chapter 28

Read on AO3

December 3, 1749

Considering this was Jenny’s fifth pregnancy, the labor took considerably longer than Claire thought it would. Michael and Janet had taken a bit longer than expected, but they were twins, so that was understandable. Claire had been certain that any more children after those two would have been out in under an hour.

So when the labor lasted well into the next day, Jenny was biting her tongue from slurring through every curse in the English and Gaelic languages.

“Ye swore, Claire, ye swore to me this one would be quick!”

“I know, Jenny, I’m sorry…sometimes it’s unpredictable even when someone has had as many as you have.” Claire dabbed at her forehead again.

“Ye’re sure the bairn is in the right position? That’s no’ the problem?”

“The baby isna breech, Mistress Murray,” the midwife assured. “Everything is perfectly normal. No blood, either. He’s just taking his time, is all.”

Jenny collapsed onto the pillows with a frustrated grunt. “If I knew it wasna going to get any easier I’d never have let Ian touch me again!”

“Now, now,” Claire chuckled. “You don’t mean that.”

“I think I know what I mean, Claire,” Jenny snapped.

Claire bit her tongue to keep from laughing again. “I’m sorry, you’re right. You’re the one in labor, not me.”

“That’s fer damned sure!” Jenny’s angry shouting dissolved into an anguished cry, and she blindly reached for Claire’s hand. “It’s coming! Now!”

They quickly moved her to the hay in front of the fireplace and positioned her properly.

All the rest happened much too quickly.

“He’s almost here, Mistress! Keep going!”

“Fine, Mistress Murray. One more push should do it!”

“Oh, thank Christ…”

Sure enough, a few minutes, much screaming, and one big push later, the baby was out.

“It’s a bonny wee lassie!” the midwife said.

“There, it’s over,” Claire said, wiping down her face again.

But something was not right.

The midwife cut the cord and whisked her away to be cleaned as Claire helped Jenny deliver the afterbirth. But aside from Jenny’s panting, there was not a sound to be heard. Claire went to the nightstand to get Jenny a glass of water, but by the time she returned, Jenny was already sitting straight up.

“She’s no’ crying…” Jenny pushed the glass away. “Why is she no’ crying?”

Claire rushed to the midwife’s side to check her breathing and pulse as she was wiped down. At first, Claire wasn't at all certain that she was alive; she had to feel around multiple different places to find her pulse. And she was so, impossibly small for a baby only a few weeks early. Claire’s heart sank when she finally found a pulse.

“Claire? What’s wrong?”

Her pulse was far slower than it should have been. And then she heard it: the slow, raspy breathing. The midwife paused her ministrations, seemingly realizing at the same time Claire did. She gave Claire a sad, knowing look.

This baby was not going to live very long.

“She’s breathing, Jenny…” Claire said, biting her lip. “But she…she’s weak.”

“She needs milk,” Jenny said curtly. “Give her to me.”

As the midwife finished up with the baby and swaddled her, Claire helped Jenny off the floor and back into the bed. By the time the midwife brought over the little bundle, Jenny had already untied her shift and freed one of her breasts. Jenny sighed with relief as the baby nestled in her arms, and the midwife shuffled about the room, cleaning up.

“Hello, wean,” Jenny whispered. “Come on, now, ye’ll be stronger when ye eat.”

Jenny held the baby to her breast, but she didn’t move. Claire watched helplessly, her vision blurring with tears.

“It’s alright, mo chridhe,” Jenny crooned, stroking her cheek with one finger. She began coaxing her in Gaelic, holding onto her breast, pushing the nipple right up against the baby’s lips, but she would not latch on.

After several seconds, Jenny’s calm melted away, and her head whipped up to look at Claire. “She willna eat. Why will she no’ eat?”

Claire wet her lips and swallowed thickly, wracking her brain for the right thing to say…

“Do something!” Jenny shouted, causing Claire to jump and a single tear to roll down her cheek.

“Take her! Help her!” Jenny held the little baby up, reaching for Claire.

Claire stepped slowly forward. She placed a hand on the baby’s chest, gently pushing her back down into Jenny’s cradling arms. “I…can’t, Jenny.”

Jenny’s frantic expression melted into horror, and she jerkily shook her head. “Ye…ye have to help her, Claire…ye have to…”

Claire put a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do. She’s just…too weak.”

Jenny looked down at the baby, and Claire watched as tears dropped from Jenny’s eyes and onto the little bundle.

“I’ll get Ian.”

“No.” Her head snapped up again. “I dinna want him to see her like this…it’ll break his heart…”

“He deserves to meet his daughter, Jenny,” Claire said gently. “And you need each other right now.”

Jenny’s mouth opened and closed as if to say something else, but instead her eyes fell back on the baby. She nodded wordlessly.

Claire breathed deeply, steeling herself before opening the door. After she shut it behind her, everything seemed to catch up with her, and she had to bite her lip to stifle the audible sob that bubbled up from her chest. She covered her mouth, and tears fell freely over the back of her hand. After a few seconds, she took another breath, wiped her eyes, and put on as neutral an expression as she could muster. As if in a daze, she made her way down the stairs and out the back door, praying not to run into any of the children.

She found Ian near the stables, pitching hay. He noticed her immediately, and his face lit up.

“Has the bairn arrived?” he called, setting the pitchfork against the wagon and walking to meet her where she stood.

“Yes,” Claire said flatly. “It’s a girl.”

“Another wee lass,” he said with a hearty laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. He finally got close enough to see the expression on Claire’s face, and his smile disappeared. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s…she’s very weak.”

“What do ye mean?”

“She won’t live very long,” Claire said, taking all of the strength within her to not completely shatter. “I’m…I’m so sorry, Ian.”

Panic suddenly etched itself into every one of his features. “Jenny?”

“She’s alright,” Claire said quickly. “She just…needs her husband now.”

His eyes averted her gaze, and he nodded. “I’ll, uh…go to her, then.”

Claire nodded silently, staring at the dirt between her feet as Ian disappeared into the house.

“Maman?”

Fergus suddenly appeared from within the stable, pitchfork in hand. Claire slowly picked up her head to look at him. Fergus immediately set down the pitchfork and rushed to her side.

“The baby?” he asked gently, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Auntie Jenny?”

“Jenny is fine,” Claire assured him. She wet her lips again. “The baby is…she’s not going to make it.”

Without another word, Fergus pulled her into a strong embrace, and it was enough to make her fall apart. She could not allow herself to really cry in front of Jenny or Ian; it was their loss, not hers. She had to be strong for them. But to deliver four of their six children and lose one, to know so intimately the cacophony of little voices crying Auntie! and to know that there was one voice she’d never hear…it broke her heart.

And that pain…that pain that Jenny was feeling was all too familiar to her. It was a pain she would not wish on her worst enemy. To know that Jenny, her sister, her dearest friend, her very own pillar of strength had to endure the worst pain Claire had ever known shook her to her core.

She wept into Fergus’s shoulder, clinging to him for dear life. Somewhere through her veil of grief, she realized she couldn’t tuck his head under her chin anymore, that her face was buried into his shoulder instead of the other way around. When on earth had he gotten so tall…?

She lost track of how much time had passed; she didn’t realize when they’d started rocking back and forth. Claire finally came to her senses, swallowing the remainder of her tears. She pulled away from him so that she could look into his eyes, and she ran a hand through his curls.

“You are thinking of her, no?” Fergus said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of Faith?”

Claire nodded, biting her lip as more tears threatened to resurface. “It’s a pain that…that never leaves you. Never.”

“Auntie Jenny is strong,” Fergus assured her.

“I know she is.” Claire nodded.

“It will be alright, Maman. We will grieve, but we will heal. Yes?”

Claire nodded, her vision blurring again. “I know, darling.” She caressed his face, painfully aware of the lack of boyishness in his features. “I love you, mon fils.”

“I love you, too.”

He hugged her again, briefly, and Claire’s heart suddenly leapt into her throat.

“Where is Brianna?”

“She is around front with the dogs. Mrs. Crook has been minding her and Kitty.”

Claire nodded. “I need to see her, to…to hold her right now.”

“I understand.”

Claire made her way around the house to the front yard, and she had to stop for a moment to collect herself when she caught sight of them. Brianna and Kitty were bundled head to toe to protect them from the December chill. They were positively squealing their heads off chasing after Jehu, the newest addition to the Murray clan of dogs. The first rat terrier, Luke, had passed away a few months ago, and the children were having a ball with Jehu’s never-ending puppy energy. Mrs. Crook was hanging laundry, and Maggie was sitting on the porch with Bran. Even in his youth, Bran had never been much for rambunctious play, but especially now, he was more than content to sit idle as Maggie pet him in long, gentle strokes.

The sound of her daughter’s laughter, accompanied by the laughter of her very best friend, her cousin, Claire’s little niece, was overwhelming. Claire steeled herself before walking closer, and Jehu immediately took note, sprinting toward her. The girls squealed again and darted after him. Claire smiled despite herself, stooping to pick up the little mongrel yapping at her feet.

“Ye caught him, Auntie!” Kitty giggled.

Claire handed him to her, and she shrieked in amusement as he lapped at her entire face.

“Take him to Maggie, would you Kitty?”

She nodded and began bounding back toward the porch, and Brianna started to follow.

“Brianna,” Claire called. “Stay here, please.”

Brianna whirled around. “In trouble, Mummy?”

“No, darling,” Claire assured her. She knelt in the grass and opened her arms. “Come here.”

Brianna obeyed, approaching her mother and allowing her to take her in her arms. Claire let out the breath she’d been holding, sighing shakily in relief. She held her daughter tightly, cradling her head into her chest, kissing the top of her head, breathing her in.

“Mummy sad?”

“Mummy just needed to hold you, sweetheart.” Claire stroked her hair. “Do you know that I love you? So very much?”

“Yes, Mummy.”

“I do. I love you so much, Brianna.” She cursed herself when her voice broke, and she held her tighter.

“Love you too, Mummy.”

Claire felt pangs of guilt radiate through her chest, knowing full well that as she sat here, cradling her living, breathing daughter, Jenny and Ian were clinging to a baby girl that was withering away in their arms. She was reminded of the horrible jealousy she’d felt when she and Jamie had arrived at Lallybroch right after losing Faith to see baby Katherine, healthy and beautiful. She was reminded of the intense pain of watching Jamie cradle that little baby, her throat burning, her mind screaming that it should have been their baby.

How wicked of her was it to be jealous back then? She had never said it out loud, not even to Jamie, but she’d been downright resentful of Jenny back then. She’d been able to bring three healthy, beautiful children into the world. Claire had tried for years, and when the Lord had finally seen fit to bless her with a child, her body had killed her. True, Maggie’s birth had been dangerous, but she still lived and breathed. No one could save Faith.

Even through that jealousy, that misplaced resentment, Claire would never wish any harm on those beautiful children, or any Murray children that came thereafter. Knowing that their newest daughter lay dying in her mother’s arms was enough to rip Claire’s heart out of her chest. Death and tragedy do not know faces or names; no one is spared, no one is safe. For Claire to have assumed all those years ago that her womb was cursed and Jenny’s was blessed had been grossly unfair. Those feelings had gradually faded away as her grief and anger gradually lessened, and she’d honestly forgotten about them. Until now. And now the guilt of ever allowing herself to think that way was making her stomach turn.

“Mistress.”

Claire almost jumped out of her skin. She looked up to see Mrs. Donnelly standing before them.

“I’ve been sent to fetch ye by Master Murray.”

Claire quickly wiped her eyes before releasing Brianna. “Go back to Kitty, love. And mind Mrs. Crook.”

Brianna nodded, and Claire stood up, watching as Brianna bounded back toward the front of the house.

“The Priest is here to Baptize the bairn before the Lord takes her,” Mrs. Donnelly said. “They want ye there.”

Claire nodded wordlessly and made her way toward the house, hearing and yet not being able to process Kitty and Maggie calling out to her as she stepped over Bran on the porch. She ascended the steps again, her feet feeling heavy as lead. She made her way to the Laird’s room and gently knocked on the door. It was Ian who answered, and Claire almost broke down and cried again at the sight of the heartbreak on his face.

“Come in, Claire.”

Claire entered the room, and Ian shut the door behind her. She locked eyes with Jenny, and she had to bite her tongue.

Strong, Beauchamp.

Father Gregor was standing over Jenny, his hand hovering over the baby in her arms, chanting in Latin, his eyes closed. He finished that particular prayer and opened his eyes upon hearing Claire’s entrance.

“The Godmother?” he asked gently.

Claire’s throat constricted.

“Aye,” Jenny answered for her. “Claire is Caitlin’s Godmother.”

Claire swallowed thickly, then put on a tiny smile. “Caitlin?”

“Aye. Caitlin Maisri Murray.” Jenny was staring at her adoringly, bouncing her gently.

“Beautiful,” Claire said reverently.

Father Gregor nodded. “Shall we begin?”

Ian sat in the bed beside Jenny, a strong, solid arm around her shoulders. Jenny gestured for Claire to sit in the chair beside the bed, right next to Jenny and baby Caitlin. Father Gregor spoke in gentle Latin, and Jenny and Ian responded in Latin when necessary. Claire was, admittedly, lost, but she understood enough to know what was happening at least, and whenever a particular chant was repetitive enough, she joined in after a few times.

At a particular point, Jenny gently nudged Claire, and she snapped to attention to see that Jenny was holding Caitlin out to her. Numbly, Claire reached out for her, cradling her close when she was placed in her arms. Claire stood, facing Father Gregor.

“Vis baptizari?”

Claire stared dumbly at the priest.

“Volo,” he whispered kindly.

“Volo,” Claire repeated, nodding. “Volo.”

Father Gregor nodded, and gestured for her to hold Caitlin over the bowl.

“Caitlin Maisri Murray.” He poured water over her head once.

“Ego te baptizo in nomine Patris.” Twice.

“Et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.” Three times.

“Deus omnipotens, Pater Domini nostri Iesu Christi, qui te regeneravit ex aqua et Spiritu Sancto, quique dedit tibi remissionem omnium peccatorum, ipse te liniat Chrismate Salutis in eodem Christo Iesu Domino nostro in vitam aeternam.”

“Amen,” Jenny and Ian said behind her.

“Amen,” Claire repeated.

“Pax tibi,” Father Gregor said.

“Et cum spiritu tuo,” all three of them recited together this time. Despite Claire’s lack of practice of Catholicism, years of Church in her youth could not erase the reflexiveness of the standard call and response.

“Vade in pace et Dominus sit tecum. Amen.”

“Amen.”

Claire instinctively crossed herself, and she saw Jenny and Ian do the same from the corner of her eye.

“She will be in Christ’s embrace now,” Father Gregor said softly.

Claire pressed a brief kiss to Caitlin’s little forehead, unable to ignore the sound of her strangled, labored breathing. She placed her back in Jenny’s arms and sat back down in the chair beside her.

“Thank you,” she said to both Jenny and Ian. “I’m honored.”

“We thank ye as well,” Ian said.

Jenny was lost in adoring her baby for a moment, and Claire was lost in watching her.

“Will ye stay wi’ us, sister?” Jenny’s voice was thin and frail in a way that Claire had never heard before. “Until the Lord takes her?”

A tear slipped out of Claire’s eye and she nodded fervently, putting a hand on Jenny’s shoulder. “Of course.”

It was impossible to say how long they sat there, Jenny crooning to her daughter in Gaelic with Ian occasionally chiming in, Father Gregor chanting in Latin. It could have been hours and hours, days and days…but it was still not long enough.

Jenny pressed her face closer and closer to Caitlin’s as her breathing grew quieter and quieter, desperate to still be able to hear her very last breath. She rocked her gently, back and forth, pressing her closer and closer until Jenny was practically doubled over, their foreheads touching. Claire kept her hand on Jenny’s back, rubbing soothing circles. Ian brushed her hair back, kissed her temple, rocked with her, unable to let her go.

Claire would never forget the sound of the horrible silence that began the very second a little baby was no longer struggling to breathe.

Jenny did not stop rocking, but the sound of her sobbing was unmistakable.

“Requiem aeternam dona eis, domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescat in pace. Amen.”

“Amen,” Ian choked out.

Claire could not speak.

Father Gregor approached the bed and placed his hand atop Jenny’s head as she shook with the force of her tears.

“May God grant you comfort in this sorrowful time. Take comfort that your daughter is at peace, and the little time she had in this world was full of love beyond measure.”

Ian nodded. “Thank you, Father.”

“I’ll return tomorrow for a burial?”

“Aye. Thank ye.”

Claire covered her mouth with both of her hands, and Ian gathered Jenny in his arms, tucking her head under his chin. Silent tears trickled down Ian’s cheeks and disappeared into Jenny’s hair.

Claire stood as Father Gregor gathered his things, and she followed him out of the room; if she’d stayed she would have felt like she was intruding on something very private.

She closed the door behind them, and as she turned to keep walking, she was surprised to find that Father Gregor had stopped. She looked tearily up at him.

“Have courage, my child.” He touched her head as he had Jenny’s. “He is with you, all of you. Have faith.”

Claire felt her throat close up.

Have Faith.

Father Gregor smiled kindly once more before disappearing down the hall and down the steps.

Her back against the wall, Claire sank slowly to the floor, landing with a soft thud. She curled into herself, arms resting on her knees, face buried in her arms, and she wept.

Have Faith.

That word, that name hadn’t destroyed her so thoroughly in a very long time.

#outlander #oulander au #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #jamie fraser #claire fraser #jenny murray #ian murray #fergus fraser #brianna fraser #brianna randall

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robin-the-enby · 4 years

Text

Chasing demons away

Requested by: @coldjudgestudentdeputy - Hello! I just want to say that your stories give me so much comfort and I am grateful for your writing. Could I request a comfort fic for Ikemen Vampire Comte with a self harming S/O. You don’t know how much you reading has helped me! Thank you so much! Much Love ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: le Comte de Saint-Germain x reader

Warnings: selfharm, suicidal intentions, lots and lots of angst, gore

A/N: Thank you again for being so sweet dear! You’ve got no idea how happy that made me and how honoured I feel that I can continue to bring you comfort. I hope I did a good job... Also, I wrote the reader as gender neutral, if you’d like me to change it, just ask ;) I’ll be glad to write something for you again if you’d need. Sending lots of strength through this post!

* * * * *

Everybody has bad days, there is no shame in that. Sometimes you just feel under the weather, be it for one reason or another. But when this feeling just doesn’t want to go away, and days turn into weeks, which turn into months, it becomes a problem.

When you became Comte’s partner, he assured you that you no longer had to work alongside Sebastian if you didn’t want to. That was of course unthinkable, not only would you feel extremely guilty for putting extra work on the poor man’s shoulders, you liked your job at the mansion. And quite frankly, you didn’t know what else you would do. Let’s be honest, it’s not like you could really pursue a career in 19th century... And sure, you had your hobbies, but you certainly couldn’t compare to the likes of your housemates. At least, that’s what you thought.

Abandoning your old life was not an easy decision, but certainly not one you regretted. Most of the time that is. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Sometimes, thoughts of doubt would haunt and taunt you, whispering delicately in your ears how you don’t belong and how foolish you are for giving up your life to a man for who you are just a spec in his never ending life.

Now, both you and Comte were busy people. Running a mansion and looking after it were not easy tasks, but you knew that whenever you needed it, you could rely on your lover, even when your thoughts made you want to turn the other way, just so he wouldn’t be worried. But he knew what sadness looks like, he knew it better than anyone, and seeing your eyes clouded by the emotion clawed at his old soul. When your thoughts were especially loud, it took him one look at your face to know just exactly what’s wrong. He would take you to his room or at least somewhere where you two could be alone, tugged you close to him and held you as long as you needed. No matter how hard it was, you two were always able to chase away those demons of yours and in those moments did you truly know that you loved him and he loved you.

But no matter how many times did your lover chase those monstrous thoughts away, they always came back. It started out small, barely noticeable. One day, the moment you opened your eyes, it was like a heavy blanket was draped across your soul. It made the world seem gray and blank. Without thinking much of it, you went about your day as usual.

The first one to call you out on your unusual behaviour was Vincent at breakfast “Is somehing wrong (Y/N)?” You were puzzled, was there something wrong? After shaking your head in confusion, the painter elaborated “Your eyes don’t shine as usual.” he said and looked at you with worried eyes. You smiled at him, despite how unnatural the action felt to you “I guess it’s just a bad day. I’ll be fine,”

Turns out Vincent wasn’t the only one who noticed the change. Dazai mentioned you weren’t smiling as usual and Sebastian pointed out how quiet you are. On one hand you felt flattered that they noticed such a small detail about you, but a small voice in your head whispered “Look how worried you make them.”

The next days weren’t any better. But you were determined to not make anyone worried. For a while, it seemed to work. You concentrated on your daily tasks and dodged every question with “I’m fine.” and the best smile you could muster up. But it seemed the blanket didn’t want to be lifted at all. Every day you woke up more tired than before and pretending you were fine just so you wouldn’t worry anyone was becoming harder and harder each day.

It was not long before Comte noticed how your eyes weren’t clouded by just any sadness, but weighed down by immense pain. He questioned you about it, but you were stubborn, one of your traits he oh so loved about you, but now it did more harm than good. Through careful prodding he got out of you that you were indeed not fine, but didn’t wish to talk about it. That it was for his sake you didn’t say out loud, he didn’t need to know that.

Time passed and all the residents became quite worried for you. Whenever they approached you, asking how you were and if you would like to maybe go out, all you could see was the worry in their eyes. “You’re not doing well enough!” your mind tormented you “They shouldn’t have to worry about you, they have enough problems already!” And so the only rational thing in that moment was to isolate yourself even more. You were hurting, and just because you refused to share your pain with the others, you still needed an outlet.

“Ma chérie, do you know where is my razor?” Comte asked you from the bathroom attached to his room. “No idea, mon cher.” you answered innocently, but you couldn’t help the guilt that swirled in your gut at that lie. You really didn’t want to steal from your lover, the idea itself horrible and the act even worse, but there was no other way. You would take care of this problem, one way or another. “Oh well, seems I’ve lost it.” Comte made a mental note to ask Sebastian to buy him a new one once he’ll go out for groceries “I’ll be in my study, if you need me.” he gave you a kiss on the forehead and left you in the bedroom. Alone.

It was late in the afternoon when you finally got back to the room you shared with your lover. Dark thoughts plagued your mind the whole day and you were anxiously anticipating this moment. Slowly and carefully you took out the razor your lover ‘lost’ this morning. You sat on your side of the bed, eyes roaming the shining object in your hand. You slowly put one of your hands on your thigh, wrist facing up and brought the tip of the razor to your wrist. “Now or never.” your mind ordered.

Slice.

That... That wasn’t so bad. You haven’t done this in a long while, but it surprized you how easy it was. You could already feel the pressure easing away from your body, your eyes set on the cut that was quickly becoming darker with your blood. But it wasn’t enough. “Only one cut? What are you, a coward? Make it at least four!” the voice ordered. And you complied.

Soon, your whole wrist was covered in blood. As you came down from the high, you started panicking. How were you going to hide this from everyone?? They’d be so disappointed if they found out, you thought. “Or you could just finish the job.” your mind whispered. You knew where the artery in your hand was. How easy would it be to just slice it pen and let the river of blood flow out? You wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Nobody would have to worry about you anymore. Comte could find someone more stable than you. It’s what he deserved anyway...

The tip of the razor moved towards the outer side of your wrist. You were so numb that it almost felt like it moved on its own. Just as you began pressing down, a familiar voice interrupted your actions “Put the blade down ma chérie.”

Comte was pleased to find out that it had been only the afternoon when he was done with his work. He didn’t have to go to Sebastian immediately then. He got up and started walking to his room, to search for his lost razor for the last time. Now he wished he lost it.

Just as he opened the door, the strong scent of blood hit his nose like a slap to the face. Eyes quickly searched the room and to his horror, he found you sitting on the bed, his razor in your hand, fresh cuts on your wrist. You didn’t seem to notice him, eyes fixed on your wrist, the tip of the blade slowly moving towards a place where nothing sharp should ever touch you.

“Put the blade down ma chérie.” he softly called out to you, closing the door quietly behind him as he took a few steps forward. One wrong move and he could lose you. And he didn’t want to risk that. You whirled around to face him, eyes widened in panic, mouth opened a bit. Tears were streaming down your face, the sight so painful to him that it brought some into his own. He repeated his request. You didn’t budge, but Comte saw your grip on the blade tightening.

“Come on, you’re already this far, surely you’re not gonna chicken out?” your mind questioned, its voice turning sour and screechy instead of the honeyed murmurs you were used to. You hesitated. Oh but your lover’s eyes shone with tears and i them you saw desperation. For once he dropped his mask, allowed you and only you to see, truly see, just how much he needed you. You saw fear, and love and sadness so deeply rooted within him and it made your heart tear apart. You swore to yourself once that you’d be there for him, that he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

And so once again, your lover won over your ill mind. No matter how painful life would become, he would always come first. You dropped the wicked torture tool, which clanked loudly against the floor, staining it with your blood. It took you both only a few steps to meet each other at the foot of your bed. Comte didn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms, holding you tighter than ever before, not caring that his clothes would get dirty, because how could he ever get mad at you?

As you held each other close you heard his quiet, almost completely inaudible sniffles. You pulled away from him a bit and cradled his face in your hands, wiping his tears away “Please don’t cry mon cher. I’m so sorry.”

Holding you close with one hand, he placed his other on the back of your head and peppered your face with gentle kisses and you smiled sadly at the gesture. Only when every inch of your skin received the love it deserved he pulled away “Please, please don’t leave me. After you stole my heart I promised myself I’d never let you go. I couldn’t bear to lose you, to be alone again.” You nodded your head in confirmation, guilt heavy on your chest again. “I can’t promise that everything will be alright, but you have to believe that I am here for you, whenever you may need me. Please, I am your lover, don’t ever hesitate to come to me.” “But, you shouldn’t have to-” you wanted to argue, but Comte pressed his pointer finger against your lips “You’ve helped me so much. I am a better man thanks to you. You support me, it’s only fair I support you too.” And even though your mind still didn’t quiet down, even it couldn’t find an argument against that.

After that, Comte quickly brought a first aid kit to his room and tended to your wounds. He took the rest of the day and night to show you just how much deserving of love and support you are and how much you truly mean to him.

#Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp comte #le comte de saint germain #comte x reader #selfharm #suicidal thoughts #insecurities #le comte de saint germain x reader #Ikemen vampire x reader #tw #requests open

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avengersassemble-fics · 4 years

Text

Stark’s Girl

part 06/015 “the truth about paris”

masterlist

previous part // next part

word count 7.1k

an: sksksksk im so sorry about the word count in this but it’s worth it in the end?? wonder who will catch all the little clues in this?? especially the paris one

ao3 link if Tumblr is being a big dummy

The hand that grazed across your cheek stung on impact, throwing your gaze to some place on the wall. You felt the blood trickle from your nose to your mouth and you straightened your head so you could face the man who attacked you. Well, really you had attacked him first (not physically, but your manipulative seduction was compromised somehow) but man was he angry at your deception. You were planning to meet him for dinner where you would try and pull more information by whispering sweet nothings in his ear, but you never made it to dinner when four men had broken into your hotel room. Not even really broke in; they had the damn key. It was typical kidnapping procedure, something covered your mouth and you blacked out within seconds.

But here, right now, your attention was on the man you had once grazed your fingers down, and he was in a new light, as you were to him. The intel you had gotten seemed to have left out the striking detail that he was not as passive as mentioned. No, certainly not. But who could really blame him? You most certainly couldn’t. But you forced the strained and terrified look on your face as he walked closer, trying to show some kind of fright to him.

“Pourquoi as-tu menti à moi, mon amour?” (Why have you been lying to me, my love?) He asked you while wiping his hands with a rag that was riddled with some of your blood. The four men stood in a semi-circle around you, watching as you shook your head timidly, your lip trembled as you watched him come closer.

“Je ne sais pas ce que tu veux dire-” (I don’t know what you mean-) you tried to say but he threw the rag down, and gripped your wrist that was tied to the chair.

“Ne me mens pas!” (Don’t lie to me!) He screamed in your face. You had closed you mouth as he eyed you before bringing one of his hands to your face and you twitched while he lightly dragged his fingers down your cheek. “Je vais vous demander encore une fois.” (I’ll ask you again) He paused to grab your chin in his palm, bringing you closer to him. “Pourquoi m'avez-vous menti?” (Why have you been lying to me?).

You let out a soft sob, even if you didn’t mean it he bought everything you were giving to him, you could tell by the look in his eyes. This man was hurt, this man who was so in love with you (or the idea of you) and it made you stop for a moment. You searched his eyes for something, for an answer to his question perhaps.

A knock made your mind come back to reality. To now. You squeezed your eyes tightly shut and pressed yourself into the corner behind the door who knew how long ago. Your fingers trembled as they hugged your knees and you shook your head at the memory. You felt everything in you tremble really, you hadn’t been able to collect your trainwreck of a mind since the events of tonight unfolded. After you emptied that gun and dropped it to the ground, it had probably set in for not only you, but Tony as well, that you. . . You were not just going to go back to a normal life like he wanted for you. Like you wanted for yourself.

Another knock on the door finally made you snap out of it. You let out a shaky sigh and used the wall behind you and to your side to push yourself up. You stumbled a bit but you grabbed the door handle and pulled it down to reveal someone behind the door. Your eyes ran up their frame as you took in the sight of Steve Rogers once again. Honestly? You were grateful it was him and not Tony.

Tony had enough on his plate right now it seemed. Maybe they all did.

Steve’s eyes looked you over and something seemed to click in his mind. His mouth opened once trying to form a sentence and his expression fell, but nothing came out. Instead, as if you already knew, you stepped aside for him to enter, and he did. You walked away from the door so Steve closed it behind him, and you wrapped your arms around yourself before speaking carefully.

“Qu'est ce-” You caught yourself mid sentence and straightened your back. “Um, sorry. . What are you doing here?”

You turned back to him and he eyed you again, choosing his words carefully as well. “I was seeing how you were.”

You forced a smile, giving him a light shake of your head. “Like I told Tony, I’m fine.”

Your smile fell as soon as you said it, and Steve shook his head. “Yeah and Tony may be telling himself to believe it, but I’m not.” He had taken a few steps towards you and put his hands into the pockets of his pants. You avoided his gaze. “So I’m seeing how you are.”

You scoffed a bit, shaking your head before looking back up to meet his eyes. “What am I supposed to say, huh? That the fact I just so easily picked up a gun and fired it at some murdery robot makes my insides warm?”

You were shaking your head as you spoke, and moved your arms to your side so you could press your fingernails into your palm, and Steve watched as you continued into a spiral and started to pace before him. “How am I supposed to tell you guys that I can’t stop thinking about everything I’ve done when there’s quite literally a demonic A.I. out there who wants to wipe you guys out?” You had pointed at him with that statement, and he took a careful step forward, though you didn’t notice as you paced back and forth once more.

“How am I supposed to tell you or Tony that I’m seeing them, all of them like they’re here? Like I’m killing them all over again.” You chuckled and Steve was nearing slowly so he could grab you. “How do I tell you that I feel like I’m empty?”

Steve had put a hand on your shoulder and you stopped pacing, but your eyes were stuck on a spot on the floor when the last part of your sentence fell from your lips. He could see tears build in the corner of your eyes. The air felt heavy with your revelations, but Steve was here for you. He just had to get you to see it through the haze in your mind.

“I thought that finally leaving Hydra’s grip and being here with Tony,” you paused and Steve watched as you glanced his way for a moment, “with you. . I thought that things would get easier. That the pain would stop, the memories and dreams of what I did would stop, but they haven’t. They’ll never let me live without some part of them in me.” Your voice dropped down to a whisper as you spoke of Hydra. “I’ll always be a monster.”

Steve’s other hand went to grab your other shoulder and he turned you to look at him. His hands went from your shoulder to cupping your face in his large hands, and forced you to meet his gaze. “You are not a monster, do you hear me? You never were, and you never will be,” he wiped the tears that fell from your eyes gently. “You did the things they told you to do so you could survive. So that you could be here with your family, with Tony,” you gently nodded in the palm of his hands, and Steve brought his fingers up to push some hair behind your ears. “The things you’ve taken from them don’t make you a bad person. You can do good with them, like Natasha has.”

Steve looked you over as your tears seemed to slow and he felt your hands go up under his elbows and trace back to his chest. You were reaching for him and he let you grab onto him in a hug, wrapping one of his arms around your body while his one hand stayed tangled in your hair as you wrapped yours around his neck. It was like he had scooped you up in an embrace and neither were arguing about it. The silence that had fallen in the room was heavy but not uncomfortable for Steve or yourself.

This was two people coming to understand one another. Trusting freely.

Steve felt you move against his chest so he carefully released you. You detangled yourself from him and looked from the ground up to meet his eyes. You searched for something in them like you had with the man in Paris, but just as easily as you had looked away from Marcelle all that time ago, you averted your gaze from Steve and looked around the room.

“It doesn’t feel the same without JARVIS,” you commented lowly. Steve glanced around before looking back at you.

“You should get some rest,” he said. You nodded, though you didn’t look at him and Steve sadly smiled. He turned back towards the door when you suddenly grabbed a hold of his hand. Your motion made him stop in his tracks and look back at you nearly in shock. You were also surprised in your actions, glancing from his hand in yours to his face and shaking your head as if in apology before letting it go.

“I’m sorry I-”

Steve shook his head. “No it’s okay,” he tried to reassure you but you just shook your head again.

“Steve can you. . Can you stay?” You were treading very carefully. He could see it in the way you darted your eyes over him before offering a small smile. “It’s too quiet-”

“I’ll stay,” he told you with a nod. “I can stay.”

This was uncharted territory. It was very unfamiliar for you, and for Steve too really. Both of you rested down against the mattress leaving a (probably to others) overwhelming amount of space between you both. But it was comfortable for you both. Steve rested on his back with his hands resting on his chest while you rested on your side facing away from him. He thought his purpose here was to comfort you into a lull, but he didn’t know you were still up and staring at the wall. It was hard for either of you to see in the darkness, so Steve just tried to listen to your breathing when he noticed how silent you were.

It was something you had learned from Hydra, but that's besides the point. Even with Steve’s presence your mind still raced with one more thought that you couldn’t shake. You didn’t know how much time had passed, you glanced at the dim clock to see it register 1:42 AM. Nearly an hour of silence had passed and you rubbed your face a bit against the pillow.

“Steve?” You whispered into the darkness, hoping he was still awake.

“Yeah?” He whispered back, eyeing you sideways. You moved again and he watched as you rolled over onto your back, closing some of the space that was still left between you two. He could see from the small amount of moonlight that came into the room that you looked to the ceiling in thought then over to him.

“Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded, and you edged up a bit higher on the pillow so your head was more even with his shoulder, and you sighed. “Steve have you ever. . been in love?”

He certainly was not expecting you to ask him that. He blinked a couple of times as he went over the answer in his head. Why were you asking? But you were watching him, and he felt that with everything you shared with him, he could share with you.

“I have been. Before the ice,” he admitted. “I don’t know if I knew it then, or if I realized it too late. But I was in love. Her name is Peggy.”

“Peggy,” you repeated, and Steve found himself nodding. “You said her name is.”

“She’s still alive,” he said and he didn’t know it but you frowned next to him. “I would visit her sometimes in D.C. in a nursing home. She has dementia and she would forget I went into the ice.” Steve smiled a bit to himself. “I would always tell her I couldn’t leave my best girl.”

You looked away from him as his story settled in with you. Steve had never shared this story with you, and suddenly you felt guilty for asking him to stay with you. You felt guilty for always needing his or Tony's presence when you were feeling something, because they have things they’re going through as well. You rested your head back into the pillow and looked up at the ceiling.

“Do you still love her?”

It was another loaded question. Steve thought it over and glanced your way. He could see you just looking up above, and he sighed a bit.

“I think a part of me always will,” he told you before turning his head to look at you fully. “Why are you asking this?”

“No reason,” you said and glanced at him. When you registered the pointed look on his face you did a double take. “What?”

“Why are you asking, (Y/N)?” He asked you again. You grumbled a bit and pushed yourself a little further up, resting against the pillows so you could look at Steve a little easier. It was like the two of you were sitting up having a conversation, but really it was your head gently resting against his shoulder, him watching you talk, and you looking at the ceiling.

“Before everything happened tonight, I was watching the people at the party. I couldn’t help myself, y’know?”

Steve nodded, and you nodded in response to him. “Well. . . I just started to notice how some people were interacting. I saw the way Tony and Pepper looked at one another, I saw the longing looks between Natasha and Dr. Banner-”

“You think something is going on between them?” Steve couldn’t help but ask and you chuckled a bit and looked at him.

“There’s something between them. I saw it.” You paused to let him interject but Steve motioned for you to continue. “Anyway, after seeing that, and after Ultron I haven’t been able to stop thinking about my last mission, about Paris.”

Steve remembered you briefly talking about Paris, how it was your favorite place. But you never told him, or anyone for that matter, what happened on that mission. You had grown very quiet, and Steve could feel you take a shaky breath.

“I never told you the truth about Paris,” you whispered, “because I can’t accept what happened. What I did. I was sent on an intel mission, that was true, but it turned into something more. Hydra believed that this man named Marcelle Olivier was developing a deadly neurochemical that would wipe out populations quicker than anything developed right now. It would have an immediate effect unlike mustard gas, while leaving no trace of it’s composition in victims.” You paused to look over at Steve who was still watching you speak. “If it was true, Hydra wanted it. Desperately. Marcelle was scheduled to be in Paris for something that they didn’t think I needed to know, and I was to interject and get the information . . . and I did.” You let out a little chuckled breath. “It took a few weeks, but Marcelle told me all about this neurochemical that would eat away at the brain of a person within two minutes. It was. . . Horrifying. The most awful thing someone could even come up with. But it’s what Hydra wanted, so I-I got it for them. But he found me out.

“One night I was supposed to meet him for dinner, but these men burst into my hotel room and I couldn’t react fast enough, or really even fight them all off. The next thing I knew I was in some ratty old building in an older part of the city, and he beat me. For hours.” You bit your lip a bit. “I missed my check-in that night, and I guess they had someone nearby to follow up and that’s when they saw the state of my room. I don’t know how they found me, but they did, not that I know who it was, only that three men were shot dead and it gave me a chance to get out of the restraints.

“I . . . I shot the last guard, and pointed the gun at Marcelle. He begged me not to pull the trigger. He had this look on his face and in his eyes besides fear . . .” you trailed off at the end and Steve watched as you rubbed your fingers together. “I never believed him until that moment that he loved me, or I guess, the idea of me. . . but I. . . I still killed him. I had to.”

At some point some tears had fallen from your eyes, but you rubbed them off your cheeks. “I started to think tonight about if anyone would be able to accept that part of me. Or look at me like how Tony looks at Pepper.”

Steve didn’t know what to say, but seeing you just casually lay next to him after revealing that didn’t feel right to him. He carefully brought his hand up that was closest to you and grabbed your hand in his, which made you look his way, and that’s when he saw the tears. “(Y/N). . . What you had to do for Hydra, it’s not you, this,” he paused to rub your hand with his thumb, “this is you. You’re working to accept your past, and that takes a lot of courage and strength. If someone can’t accept what you had to go through? Then they don’t deserve you.”

You watched as he stroked your hand with your thumb, and met his gaze when he finished his thought. The warm feeling that brewed in your chest was sudden, and you were partially afraid of what it meant. You suddenly felt like you were looking at Steve Rogers differently. Sure he had always been kind and friendly towards you, but his whispers in the night made you feel a tinge of something more. He could just be his normal friendly and supportive self, but something was telling you to move. So you did.

You were very very careful with how you moved beside him. He still held your hand, but you had lifted his arm a bit and moved yourself under it. Steve seemed to understand your motion, and when you released the fingers that were laced with yours his arm draped down your back. His hand rested carefully on your side and your head rested on his chest, one hand resting close to your chin flat on him and your other arm rested to his side like earlier in the day.

Whatever was happening was uncharted waters for Steve Rogers. He wasn’t sure if you were seeing his comfort or if this was. . . more. A part of him was hopeful for it to be the latter, but another part of him was terrified about what that meant, and what this means. The silence that filled the air was comfortable, and this time he could feel your breathing against him even out in sleep, and he laid there for a while longer letting the night sink in.

Something told him he wouldn’t have these late night talks with you for some time. Or just that he may not see you for some time, not until Ultron was dealt with. So Steve did what Steve does best: he made sure he would remember this moment, and how you felt in his arms.

- - - - - - - - - -

By the time you had woken up Steve was gone, the only remnant of last night you had was your memory and a scribble of a note Steve had left for you on the bedside table. How you managed to sleep through him leaving was beyond you, but you understood all the same. They were heroes after all. Still, you put the note away and tried to carry on with your day as if nothing was happening.

Tony left you a note too, but that was handed to you by one of the SHIELD agents when you found yourself sitting in his lab. Not having JARVIS around made the whole building feel eerie. The only comfort you could find for yourself was sitting amongst Tony’s work. That’s where they found you and kept a watchful eye over you as the day passed on. You kept looking over Tony’s letter about where they had gone off to, trying to make sense of the masses of paper strewn about.

There was something about a black market arms dealer he used to know that was an acquaintance of the man they busted just the day before. He said there was a chance they could stop Ultron right now, and he promised to be back soon. But you saw the documents left out, and for some reason the twist in your stomach told you otherwise. The arms dealer wasn’t a good man, and to top if off Ultron had two enhanced followers now. You may not be seeing them for quite some time.

And then someone burst in when the sun was getting low. You stood abruptly from the desk as two agents entered with a kick in their step like something had happened. It had all happened so fast, you had enough time to grab some necessities (clothes and the sort) along with both Tony and Steve’s letters before being ushered onto a quinjet. The agents who accompanied you sat on either side of you and you bumped shoulder to shoulder with them for maybe an hour. The flight pattern led you to believe you were being taken to the new compound - and you were right.

The big building was both a blessing and a curse. Blessing in the sense of a change of scenery, but a curse in the thought that something had happened to the team. To Tony. To Steve. You let these SHIELD agents lead you into the building before you reminded them of the fact you knew your way around. You felt oddly protective over the fact they were here with you, in a place you often reserved for time with Tony. This was a lot of his work, and yours recently, and it was odd that they felt it okay to propel you in like you were the one who needed to be locked away.

So that's how you found yourself here in the hub, at least that’s what you called it. It was the main sector of the building that Tony envisioned the Avengers and the team stationed here would use during mission briefings and interactions while in the field. Tony had it to where every quinjet the Avengers were on showed with a tracker on the map before you, and any news related to the team showed on the transparent screens as well. He was a visionary, your brother.

That’s how you saw what had happened in Africa. You watched the footage of the Hulk destroying a partially built building and Tony swooping in with large, equally sized armour to subdue him. It was awful to see, the look in the Hulk’s eyes were bloodshot, his veins popped from his body and it just was not like any other footage you had seen of Dr. Banner. But you stayed like this, sitting on a rather uncomfortable chair (you would talk to Tony about that at one point) and watched how the beacon of the craft they were on had stopped transmitting some point over the Atlantic.

You wished you could contact them with the million of questions running through your mind. Was everyone okay? Where were they going? Did Tony tell SHIELD to bring you here? How much has Ultron gotten his hands on? Is this how it felt to be on the other side? Just waiting for news to drop? You weren’t a particular fan if that was the case.

The hours dragged on but you stayed in your place to wait for news from them. Night passed and the sun rose like it always does, like it always would if things permitted. You squinted through the rays of sun and noticed the transmission had come back on, and reports from Seoul covered the once barren screen. You sat forward as your back cracked and reached out to move the articles around with your fingers, combing through each one to see the videos attached. Seeing some of them in action was. . . both fascinating yet bittersweet. Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, and Steve Rogers. You couldn’t help but linger on the footage of Steve, watching as he did everything in his power to fight off Ultron on the top of a moving truck. Ultron looked more menacing then the last time you had seen him, and that’s probably when it sunk in; the severity of the world you were now a part of.

The articles were dated from hours ago and you cursed the fact you had slept through this development. You stood from your spot and looked around the barren room tapping your fist into the palm of your hand gently as your mind reeled. You needed to know more. That itch of a feeling you didn’t know if it was because you were a Stark, or if it was because you were a spy, but you sat back down and began to type away at the system in front of you.

Hacking SHIELD was easy enough, you had done it before under the guise of Hydra, and it seemed like second nature for you now. Seeing Ultron before you made you shake your head and swipe the image away, but you looked over the information of his latest whereabouts and froze over the attempts for nuclear codes. He really meant it when he said the word extinct. There was note of a hacker stopping the attempts and you figured maybe you could try finding out who that was. Maybe it was information that could be useful for them.

So you dug in deeper, forcing your way through protective walls and typing away on the keyboard to find what you were looking for. This was like riding a bike without training wheels for you (how morbid does that sound?), but you did it anyhow, not caring if you were going to be caught. Like clockwork Ultron attempted for the codes once more, and you watched the coding nearly fight back to push him out in a second's notice, and you grumbled a bit. The screen flashed in numbers and you raised your brow a bit.

You’ve seen this code before. You’ve seen it here while helping Tony integrate something into the hardware of this building.

You reached out for the screen before you and zoomed it out with your hand, and the sudden realization at the image before you made you stand for your chair and look at it in awe. There was no way. This was true.

The Avengers had made it back to the Tower with the cradle and Bruce and Tony had begun work on undoing Ultron and Dr. Cho’s work on the body in it. That’s when his screen beeped and it startled not only him, but Bruce as well.

“What was that?” Bruce asked, and Tony moved from his spot next to the cradle, to the screen, doing something to it to find that noise.

“I don’t know actually, this is a closed-”

The message that appeared made him stop his sentence, seeing the words before him and he fought the smile on his face. He took out his phone-like device and turned back to Bruce.

“What is it?” Bruce asked, and Tony looked at the cradle.

“You have to trust me,” he said to his friend, who only shook their head in response.

“Kinda don’t,” Bruce admitted.

“Our ally? The guy protecting the military's nuclear codes? She found him.” With the flick of his wrist a form envelops the room, and Bruce takes his glasses off.

“Hello, Dr. Banner,” JARVIS greets.

Bruce motioned with his glasses between JARVIS’ consciousness and Tony. “Who found him?”

Tony smiled wide, “My sister,” he said, and walked back over to the cradle, “Ultron didn't go after JARVIS cause he was angry. He attacked him because he was scared of what he can do. So JARVIS went underground. Okay? Scattered, dumped his memory. But not his protocols. He didn't even know he was in there.” Tony paused to tap on the cradle. “Not until she pieced it together.”

Bruce nodded as he spoke, and looked down at the mass before them. “So you want me to help you put JARVIS into this thing?”

“No,” Tony shook his head, “I want to help you put JARVIS into this thing.”

When Bruce looked at him in disbelief Tony sighed. “C’mon I’m way out of my league here. You know bio-organics better than anyone.”

“And you just assume that JARVIS' operational matrix can beat Ultron's?” Bruce asked, earning a nod from Tony.

“JARVIS has been beating him from inside without knowing it. This is the opportunity, we can create Ultron's perfect self, without the homicidal glitches he thinks are his winning personality. We have to.”

Tony was trying his best to reason with his friend, and still Bruce looked in disbelief, but then JARVIS spoke, “I believe it’s worth a shot.

So Bruce grumbled a bit but he knew it was their best bet against Ultron right now. So he and Tony truly became mad scientists that day. And worked on this synthetic body for JARVIS’ consciousness to “plug” into.

You had paced back and forth in the room since you never heard back from Tony after your encrypted message to him. Had he gotten it? If he did, what was he going to use the information for? Why is he such a bad replier?

You stopped rambling when there was a familiar beep sound from the computer, and you hurried over to it and nearly skidded across the floor in the chair. There were only two words on it, but it was enough to make you feel at ease.

Thank you.

You relaxed your back into the chair and smiled to yourself. Look at you, helping your brother and maybe the world. Is this what Steve meant by doing good with what you have? It was. . . oddly satisfying. You stood from the chair when the screen before you yielded an error code, in all capital letters that read: ACCESS DENIED.

Uh oh. Someone had found you out. You tried to disconnect your connection but instead a face appeared before you and you jumped back, taking in the man before you.

“Do you have any idea what you’re-” He had started to say but stopped when he took your appearance in. He knew you. Did you know him?

“Miss Stark,” he acknowledged. Well that certainly answered your suspicion.

“Who are you?” You asked, only to then notice the little flag pinned to his jacket.

“My name is Phil Coulson, I’m the Director of SHIELD,” he said and you nodded in understanding. “Why were you hacking into our database?”

“I was trying to get some kind of information on what’s going on with my brother, since your Agents didn’t bother to fill me in on anything,” you replied honestly and crossed your arms. “You should get a better vetting system. I haven’t seen them since we got here.”

You swore you could see him fighting a smile, but he sighed in disappointment. “I didn’t think you would be as much of an issue as your brother,” he commented and you could see him lean against his desk and cross his arms. “I’ve been informed by someone on the team that Tony and Bruce have created a human symbiote with the JARVIS consciousness you provided them.”

“I’m sorry, they did what?” You asked, as if you needed clarification. But really it was more around the lines of what the fuck?

Coulson nodded. “They’re in Sokovia now.” He pointed to the map and you did in fact see two little dots on the move; a Quinjet, and the other marked as a MK-suit. The articles that were popping up now showed what you assumed to be the city lifting into the air.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to get thousands of people off that rock.” You looked at the little tablet on the table while Coulson moved to disconnect your connection, but you lunged forward to it.

“Wait,” you said out loud and Coulson stopped behind his desk while you skimmed through some of the files you had from earlier and spread out an image between the two of you. “Do you have any more of these laying around?”

Coulson looked from the image to you, and you saw a smile spread over his face. “I think I know where to find one.” He nodded at you while grabbing what looked to be a phone. “Suit up.”

- - - - - - - - - -

They were arguing. Of all the times to be arguing, this was definitely not the place to be doing it. There were only two options Tony was sure of, and Steve didn’t like either of them.

“Not 'til everyone's safe,” Steve told Natasha, who breathed heavily next to him. Natasha shook her head.

“Everyone up here versus everyone down there? There's no math there, Rogers,” she told him and it was Steve’s turn to shake his head.

“I'm not leaving this rock with one civilian on it,” he said. Natasha gave him a soft smile and put a hand on his shoulder and looked out to the horizon.

“I didn't say we should leave.” She looked at Steve who watched her talk. “There's worse ways to go. Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”

“Glad you like the view, Romanoff. It's about to get better,” Nick Fury’s voice rang in their earpieces. Natasha and Steve looked at one another and then back to the horizon when a Helicarrier came into view like a gift from God. Nick Fury sure was a sucker for theatrics.

“Nice, right? I pulled her out of mothballs with a couple of old friends. She's dusty, but she'll do,” he commented and Steve let out a sigh.

“Fury, you son of a bitch,” he commented.

“Oooh! You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Fury asked in a joking matter, which only made Steve shake his head and Natasha chuckle.

“Altitude is eighteen thousand and climbing,” Maria Hill spoke to the crew inside, and gave a nod to one of the other agents.

Steve and Natasha watched as the lifeboats detached from the Helicarrier and began to move towards the rising city, and Pietro suddenly appeared at their side, and watched in awe.

“This is SHIELD?” He asked the two, and Steve nodded towards the kid.

“This is what SHIELD is supposed to be,” he told him, and the lifeboats touched the ground before them and a number of agents disembarked from the crafts, but Steve froze when he saw one in particular. He couldn’t believe the sight before him.

You were dressed in a similar manner to Natasha, or Hill if he could recall, a SHIELD insignia stamped onto the leather jacket you were sporting. You had hopped down to the ground and were helping people climb onto the lifeboat like there was no care in the world around you. But you were searching for something and your gaze landed on him, and even from a distance he could see the smile that spread on your lips.

“Let’s load ‘em up,” he said to Nat and Pietro, but he was already moving towards you. You grabbed people by the hand and helped them onboard when he finally made it to you and strapped his shield to his back, but seemed to have lost the words he wanted to say.

“You’ll catch a fly in your mouth if you keep it open like that,” you commented to him, and it made him smile. So he stood beside you and you both directed people onto the lifeboat until it was full.

It was working. The lifeboats were filling up one by one and being sent back to the Helicarrier as Rhodey and Tony both fought to keep the robots from swarming in the air. The amount of people (and lifeboats) left was dwindling, and you were working one by one with each lifeboat to the very end. And Steve stood by your side through it all.

“Avengers,” Tony’s voice said through the earpieces, and you could even hear it in yours. “Time to work for a living.”

You looked at Steve who was staring at you, so you nodded behind him. “Go.”

Steve hesitated but soon enough he dashed off and your eyes followed him until he disappeared around a corner. Your attention went back to the people still trying to board, and you grasped some hands as they clambered on board.

It was all invigorating, or it could have been from the air getting so thin from the altitude. Either way, your chest was filled with something other than grief and emptiness for the first time in who knew how long. You were making a difference. And SHIELD, Coulson, Fury (who he was you were still unsure), they were listening to you.

There was one lifeboat left, and as the last few were starting to board you saw the team come from the direction Steve had run off in minutes ago. Clint, Thor, Natasha, the Hulk, and then Steve. They had rushed over and helped the last of the civilians onto the lifeboat and Thor looked over to you and motioned to you with his hammer.

“The look suits you,” he commented. You smiled at him.

“Thanks,” you replied.

Steve had returned to your side and looked around him. “Is this the last of them?”

You nodded, “Everyone else is on the carrier.”

Steve nodded his head as he squinted around and offered you his hand. You glanced at the glove but placed your hand in his, and he helped you climb aboard the final lifeboat and then hoisted himself up as well. He was standing fairly close when suddenly the Quinjet appeared from the edge of the floating island and the people around you began to scream. Steve quickly wrapped you in his arms and almost reached for his shield when the Hulk leapt into the air and onto the quinjet, his weight throwing off the balance and sending it lopsiding into the city. Steve carefully unwrapped you from his arms and you looked past him at the city, and noticed a body on the ground. Steve’s eyes followed yours and you saw his shoulders slump. Clint appeared from behind a car and held a child, and you frowned. You weren’t sure who laid on the ground, but they knew him, and he had sacrificed himself for everyone on this lifeboat.

The lifeboat joulted and started back towards the helicarrier once Clint was back on board, holding the body of the man who had saved him. There was an eerie silence amongst the crowd, watching as Clint kneeled beside the man and stared in disbelief. You didn’t know when, but at some point you had reached for Steve’s hand and wrapped your fingers with his.

There was a crack of thunder, and everyone’s attention turned to the city. It was like a spark of light ignited the sky in front of you, and it enveloped Sokovia as the lifeboat made it back to the helicarrier. You watched in awe, and then heard Tony’s voice in your ear as people began to disembark the boat.

“Ultron is down.”

- - - - - - - - - -

It’s been several weeks since then.

The Compound was bustling with life now. Tony and Maria Hill handpicked a specialized team to help with the everyday routines that would happen on site, and he called it the Avengers Special Service Evaluation Team. He likes the abbreviation ASSET, though you had to nearly harass him to include the E and the T to his original idea. He told you it wasn’t as funny, and you told him you refused to be referred to as ASS on a day to day basis with him. So he caved, and you won that argument.

You had decided after the events with Ultron to take Coulson and Fury up on their offer to become a specialized SHIELD agent, on the condition that you would be stationed here as part of this team. Not only did it give you a chance to keep an eye on Tony (god knows he needs that), but it also was a steady enough environment for you to be in charge of. Answering to Tony and Steve, of course.

Today, Thor was leaving and so was Tony to return to the Tower in New York to undergo some kind of preparations. He told you that you didn’t need to worry about that, though a part of you still did. That left Natasha, Wanda, Sam, Vision, Rhodey, and Steve here in the meantime. They were probably just headed for training if the time was correct-

“(Y/N),” a voice called for you. You stopped in your tracks to look up and see Steve headed your way. He was dressed in his Captain America suit and you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, and pressed the tablet you were holding against your chest.

“I swear I see you in that all the time,” you commented and Steve smiled and cast a glance down his frame.

“Well how about you saw me in something different,” he said and you raised a brow but before you could answer he continued, “dinner? Tonight?”

You blinked at him and bit your lip a bit as you went over his words in your mind, “Like. . a date?”

“Like a date,” he answered.

You couldn’t stop the smile from spreading over your lips as you shuffled the weight between your legs, and nodded at him, “Yes. I’d like that.”

Steve smiled at you and nodded, and you both backed away from one another. You turned from him and he turned from you, neither being able to wipe the smiles from their faces for the rest of the day.

- - - - - - - - - -

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