#but last time i had boot up my multi this shit happened to me

[mae-gi-writes]

Once Again (Pt.2) | Iwaizumi Hajime (Haikyu!)

ONCE AGAIN | PART TWO

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s broken marriage results in his five-year-old son trying to match him up with his primary school teacher, whom he thinks will make a wonderful replacement for a mother. 

Genre: fluff, angst, f! Reader x dad! Iwaizumi

Taglist: @multi-fandom-fanfic, @168-cm-png​, @bakugouswh0r3​, @yatoatyourservice​, @ayocee​, @marvel-ing-at-it-all​, @astrolcve 

A/N: Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist! Thanks to everyone for the kind feedback and for reading my work <3 

< PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART >

----

He swings his beer over the counter, "one more."

He shouldn't be drinking. Imagine the damage it's doing to his organs, alcohol sweeping through his bloodstream and purging him of all coherent thought. Iwaizumi can hear Oikawa's nagging voice in his head even within the depths of intoxication.

Does he care though? He should. He should care. Because his job is basically to get people in their best shape.

And here he is, drinking away his sorrow, still shaken up by the way Hoisuke's fingers had grabbed for him that night. The bundle of nerves he'd squashed down had only intensified upon dropping his son on his mother's doorstep the same weekend and though he knew he should've said something to Mizune, he couldn't find the will to utter the words out, lest they came back to haunt him.

His phone buzzes in his pant pocket and after finishing it out with clumsy fingers, he manages to press down onto the green button.

"Yeah?"

"You're drinking!"

"No."

"Iwa-chan~" Oikawa's voice pierces through the receiver, sickly sweet and yet with a dark threatening undertone, "what are you doing?"

"Fuck off, shittykawa."

"Where are you?"

Iwaizumi doesn't answer. He doesn't need to, for Oikawa's already exclaiming the said bar's name as he takes another sip of his newly-filled beer glass.

"I thought you said you wouldn't drink anymore," Oikawa reproaches, "think of what Hoisuke would say--"

"I said fuck off."

There's a small pause where Oikawa bristles, before he says in a quieter tone, "what's wrong?"

Still, Iwaizumi says nothing but takes another huge gulp of his beer. His head feels buzzed, disoriented.

"Iwa-chan."

The said man press his lips in a taut line.

"Iwa-chaaaan."

"I'll talk to you later," Iwaizumi barely hears his friend's protests before he cuts off the call and downs the rest of his beer like a parched man, eyes narrowing towards anyone who dares reprimand him of his behaviour.

"One more," he rasps out towards the bartender, whose sending him a look that closely mimics one that clearly says he's had enough. But he scowls in response and that's enough to make the bartender's eyes slip away.

Seriously. What is wrong with him? It's already been four months goddamnit. Get over yourself. He wishes he could punch himself in the face. God, he sounds like a loser. He looks like one. And it's no wonder that his wife has left him for someone better, richer. Everything that he's not.

Not to forget that this wound will never leave their son's heart.

"One rum and coke please."

A presence lingers in his right and the brown-haired man turns with a glare at the ready, eyebrows furrowed and lips pressed in a thin line to scare whatever stranger that comes a little too close for his liking.

What the--

He stares at you. You stare back at him, just as dumbfounded. Looking the same, yet completely different.

"Miss Y/N?"

"Iwaizumi-san?"

He feels the sudden urge to hide his empty glass, "what--are you doing here?"

"Don't look so surprised, Iwaizumi-san," you chuckle at what you think is his flabbergasted expression, "I'm still twenty-six you know. I came here with a few of my friends."

His eyes slide towards the table in the far corner -- easy to spot since it's one of the loudest -- before he almost misses your question, "and you?"

"I come here often."

"Ah I see."

As you pay the bartender who slides your drink over, you bristle for a bit before you ask hesitantly, "mind if I sit here?"

Iwaizumi shakes his head. It's not like he can say no after all. You're his kid's teacher. And shit, how many beers has he had? He better not run his mouth. It's a dirty habit of his whenever he's shit drunk.

"So," you start off slowly, looking so out of place next to the said man with a scowl so dark it can scare off the most violent of gangsters that the corners of Iwaizumi's mouth tilt upwards in amusement, "how's it going?"

Seriously? You're seriously going to do that? His gaze searches your features for a moment, satisfied when warmth floods your cheeks.

You look away, "you don't have to look at me like that, you know. I just thought you’d want some company."

"What makes you think that?” Iwaizumi says while he flags down another beer from the waiter. 

You blink at him, “I can go if you want--”

The man sighs, rubbing his temples with tiredness, “that’s not what I meant.”

A weird, empty gap of silence ensues. Long enough that Iwaizumi gets his fourth beer of the night in his hand and he takes a grateful swallow. 

He really should not be drinking so much.

"Where do you work?” 

You’re persistent. He’ll give you that, “personal trainer. I work at the sports academy.” 

“That’s cool,” there’s a small smile edging upon your lips, “you like it?”

He nods, pauses briefly, before asking, “do you?” 

Of course it’s a little too close for comfort, especially since you’re Hoisuke’s teacher and all. But you merely relax in your high stool, swinging your legs while nodding eagerly. He can’t help but notice the tightness of your dark jeans, your black high-heeled boots, “I don’t see myself working as anything else. I’m bad with people most of the time.”

Taking another swig of his beer, Iwaizumi feels the tension slowly ease up from his shoulders, “well you’re way better with kids than I am.”

“You’re pretty good with Hoisuke."

“That’s because you haven’t seen him throw tantrums.”

You laugh, "oh don't worry, I have. I know all about his little fits. All my kids have one, at some point."

You say it lightly, but there's definitely love laced in your words and for a minute, Iwaizumi thinks back to the way Hoisuke kept on praising you, the way he spoke so affectionately about you.

"Do you still play volleyball?" You ask him while sipping on your drink.

He mimics the gesture, "sometimes. The guys are all over town so it's harder to meet up now."

"Dang, your team was so good though."

"It was Oikawa that held us together. We weren't that good," he tastes the bitterness of Karasuno's victory on his tongue.

"That's not true," you protest, fiddling with your empty glass, "the only reason why I watched Aoba Johsai's games was because I liked watching you play."

Dark coffee-coloured orbs sweep up to yours at that statement, as if trying to peel layers off yout shell, as if wanting to confirm the truth of your words. You feel like cowering away but you don't, instead holding his stare in hopes that he doesn't notice how your hands tremble slightly underneath his scowl.

And then, features softening ever so slightly, he murmurs out, "thanks."

You know he means it in the best way possible.

-----

One drink turns to two. And two multiplies by four. And soon enough you're tipsy off your head and singing so blatantly off-key you wonder why Iwaizumi's still by your side. You haven't been this drunk in ages and this sense of freedom makes you bold; you tug him to the dance floor to join your friends, order shot after shot as the music gets louder and your head gets lighter, proceed to blabber your mouth off about literally anything and everything that by the end of the night, you wish the ground would swallow you whole so you won't have to deal with Iwaizumi the next day.

You're not entirely sure how you find yourself being dragged by none other than the said man himself, or how your nose is currently lodged in the crevice between his neck and shoulders. But he smells good, like citrus and a mixture of mint and-- you sniff a little more -- is that cookie dough? Your mouth waters just at the thought.

"You smell like cookie dough," the words tumble out of your mouth in a jumbled mess and you inwardly feel like stabbing yourself.

So pathetic. Pitiful really.

"That's Hoisuke," Iwaizumi replies, surprisingly patient even when he's clearly not impressed, glaring at the lamppost ahead, "it's his flavour of the month."

"That's cute!" You giggle, "just like you, Iwa!"

The man sighs while shifting his grip upon your waist, "let's just get you to bed."

You probably doze off at some point or black out because the next thing you see upon opening your eyes next is the ceiling.

Hoisting your head up and groaning when your head pounds in warning, you lie back down as nausea takes over.

Shit. This isn't your room. You know that much.

What the fuck happened last night?

You remember dancing atop tables, remember spotting Iwaizumi by the bar and talking to him because he just seemed so sad and lonely. You remember dragging him onto the dance floor, dancing together, his hands on your waist--

You danced with Iwaizumi?!

The thought is enough to trigger another pounding. You groan once more, placing your hand atop your head in hopes that it will stop it from throbbing. It doesn't. But before you have more time to wallow in your self-pity, the door creaks open and your eyes almost pop out of your head when you spot a mop of brown spiky hair enter the room.

Iwaizumi.

Oh fuck. Your brain short circuits. Fuck fuck fuck.

Surprise crosses his face, clearly having not expected you to be awake yet. He walks over to place a glass of water by the nightstand and grabs your palm to tilt two aspirins into your hand.

"How's your head?" He asks.

"Fine," you wince. It's far from fine. In response, he holds out the glass and you gladly wash down the pills, warm and feeling suddenly vulerable under his stare.

Chewing onto the inside of your cheek, you muster up all your courage to ask, "what--happened last night?"

You don't miss the way his eyebrows shoot up, "you don't remember?"

"...no."

Is that amusement dancing in his eyes? You're not sure since it's gone just as quickly as it came before he says, "you got drunk. Danced on the table, had too many shots and made out with two different men--"

"I'm pretty sure the last part didn't happen."

"You said you didn't remember," he smirks lightly.

"I can't even flirt, let alone kiss strangers."

That earns you a chuckle from his part, causing your heart to flutter slightly as he straightens up, "you probably want to wash up. Bathroom's on the right. I'm in the kitchen if you need me."

"Okay," and as he turns away, you quickly add, "thanks, Iwaizumi-san."

He nods back, exiting the room and finally allowing you to collapse back against the bed to try slowing down your galloping heart. Jesus christ, you think to yourself as you slowly take in your surroundings. From the lack of furniture and with only a few clothes flung over a wooden desk chair shoved in the right, you guess it's his room. A closed laptop and a small plant sits on his desk. On the left is the nightstand filled with sports books and some manga, a closet shoved in a corner and the floor is made in veneered wood.

There's no sign of family pictures, nothing that indicates the warmth of a cosy household. It doesn't take a genius to understand why. While Hoisuke had begged you not to tell his father, you weren't a stranger to the young boy sobbing in-between breaks because he misses his mother.

Well, it's not like you're allowed into family affairs anyway, as much as that breaks your heart.

After a much needed shower and a quick brush of your teeth -- you had to make do with using your fingers with his toothpaste, too embarrassed to actually ask him whether he had a spare toothbrush -- you walk out into the kitchen to see Iwaizumi already seated at a quaint wooden table laden with eggs and toast. Behind him sits the kitchen stove and white countertops next to a fridge fitting snuggly on the left corner. On the far right of the room is a large dark grey couch and a tv set, and just behind it is a small hallway which seems to be the entrance -- guessing by the coat rack and array of shoes. 

"Sunny side up or boiled?" Iwaizumi asks as you take a seat opposite him. He has already poured you a cup of strong coffee and you inhale before sighing in bliss. Your headache already feels slightly better.

"Anything is fi--" you're interrupted by his scowl, quickly changing your answer to, "sunny-side up please."

He grunts, passes you the plate and digs into his own fried eggs, the soft boiled ones forgotten at the centre of the table.

"Uhm, forgive me for point it out, but that's a lot of food Iwaizumi-san," you mumble out, not missing the way his features harden slightly.

"Force of habit," he mutters in-between mouthfuls. He doesn't need to say more, for you're pretty certain he's referring to the family he used to have, those lazy Sunday mornings that started out with brunch.

You eat in companionable silence and though it'a definitely less awkward than last night, your mind still races trying to figure out what to say to erase the permanent furrow between his brows.

Or is that his normal demeanour? To be honest, you're not quite sure yourself.

So you settle for thanking him for last night, to which he replies, "do you usually drink that much?"

"No," you duck your head, avert your gaze, "I got carried away. I'm really sorry."

"Well I wouldn't have expected my kid's teacher to be that wild," he muses while taking a bite of his toast.

Alarm zaps through you, making your eyes go wide, "I swear I'm not usually like that, really. I just--this was an exception--"

"It's fine, miss Y/N. I know," his brown pupils lock onto yours briefly, "I'm not going to report you."

"I--" nothing can really make up for your behaviour last night. You know that much, "still, I'm sorry. That wasn't appropriate," you glance up, chest tightening at the intensity of his stare, unflinching. Unwavering.

He cocks his head at you then, a semblance of a smile along his mouth, "I was pretty entertained, if you ask me."

"Was I that bad?"

"No. But let's just say that you won't want to show your face around for the next week or so."

You groan and bury your face in your hands, "what did I do?"

"You might've broken a beer glass or two," he gives you a look, "on purpose. And tried to steal the Dj's headphones cause he wasn't putting the music you requested."

"Oh god," you want to bury yourself right then and there and to your surprise, you see him laugh softly before he nudges your coffee towards you.

"Drink," he orders, "it'll make you feel less shitty."

You're about to retort with a roll of your eyes, only to be interrupted by the doorbell ringing. From the way Iwaizumi tenses, you know it's not just the mail man.

Excusing himself to go unlock the door as you twist in your seat to follow his figure, shock courses through you the moment your eyes land on Hoisuke's.

Then, his mother.

An alarm bell rings through your mind.

"I thought you said evening," comes Iwaizumi's grunt, totally unlike the guy who'd been chuckling a few seconds ago.

"Hoisuke wanted to come back early for some reason," the woman says, her gaze flickering to yours for a brief moment. It's enough to cause you to swallow hard. She continues, "I'll pick him up on--"

"Miss Y/N?!" Hoisuke shouts out suddenly and before you know it, you're being tackled into the child's arms as if you haven't seen each other forever, "what are you doing here?! Daddy!" he whips his head around in accusation, "you lied about not really really liking Miss Y/N!"

"Wha--No!" Iwaizumi yells as you frown in confusion, "huh?"

"Daddy said that really really liking someone means you wanna be boyfriend and girlfriend with them, like he was with Mama before she moved houses," Hoisuke blabbers on, totally oblivious to how the three of you keep on staring at him in growing alarm, "and then I asked him if he really really liked miss Y/N because I really really like miss Y/N but he said no, but that's a lie!"

"Hajime, what is he talking about?" His ex-wife is quick to narrow her eyes, "what have you been telling him?"

"Nothing, it's not what you think--"

"I think," she pointedly glances at you, "I should leave now. We'll talk about this later."

And with that, she swivels around and storms out, leaving the three of you to stare after her in a mixture of shock and confusion.

Hoisuke, oblivious to the sudden tension, blurts out, "daddy, why is Mama angry with you?"

----

The few weeks following the tiny incident that had resulted in an awkward misunderstanding between you, Hoisuke’s parents and the said child himself had caused you to retreat back into the shell of professionalism that included avoiding Iwaizumi whenever it was deemed possible. It hadn’t been hard since he was usually present and waiting outside class to pick up Hoisuke right on time, making it much easier to avoid conversation with him altogether. 

You’d texted iwaizumi right after reaching your humble abode the day he’d practically saved your drunk ass and though you spent a few spare moments to chat in-between the bustling activities of life, it doesn’t erase the fact that he’s still Hoisuke’s father, one of your dearest students. That, and the fact that you don’t really find it fair to put Hoisuke in-between the two of you, if there’s anything worth digging for anyway. 

Who are you kidding? It’s not like Iwaizumi would ever be interested in you in that sense. Having spotted his ex-wife once or twice proved that his style was of more refined women, the type that would drink wine instead of chug down beer and who’d enjoy gifts such as perfume and romantic dates instead of going on grocery trips and meal-prepping for the entire week. 

“Miss Y/N!” Hoisuke’s voice pierces through your thought bubble and your eyes quickly find his grin as he jumps towards your desk, "are you coming to our house this weekend too?!"

"Wh--What? Uhm-- no I don't think so--" eyes quickly flitting over the classroom, you're relieved to find that the rest of his classmates are long gone, "I don't think that's appropriate."

"But why? I even told Mama that I wouldn't be coming this weekend because you were," he pouted and it took all of your determination not to melt, until his words registered in your brain and your eyes widened, "o--oh, but that's--"

"Hoisuke?" You both turn to see his father's head poking through the door. Your body reacts instantly, warmth flooding through your limbs and flushing through your cheeks.

"Daddy!"

"H-Hello, Iwaizumi-san," you bow your head slightly. He returns the gesture, facial expression not giving anything away. His son bounds up to him with just as much vigor, "daddy, can we invite miss Y/N this weekend too?"

You might have laughed at Iwaizumi's shocked face if not for the fact that you are the person in question.

He splutters, "Miss Y/N has things to do--"

"But she came last weekend!"

"Yes well, it's bad manners to impose on someone when they're not free," Iwaizumi replies sternly, "come on now, we're gonna be late for Karate."

With a loud sigh and a scowl that resembles so much like his father, Hoisuke mutters out his goodbyes while Iwaizumi catches your eye, bowing slightly and muttering a silent "sorry" before he guides his son out of the room. You're glad he's out of earshot that he can't hear the stuttering of your heart against your chest.

You place a hand on your chest, sigh tiredly before looking down at your students' papers, "get a grip, Y/N," you mutter to yourself.

But it's not that easy to control yourself when Iwaizumi is making it so easy to like him.

----

Iwaizumi: sorry about yesterday. 

Y/N: it's okay. Hoisuke’s young, it's normal for him to want for a motherly figure around.

Iwaizumi's fingers drum over his knee as he watches with slight interest the newest male volleyball team practice their serves. He shouts after a few, calling them out for theit lazy postures, but other than that he can't seem to stop his thoughts from winding their way back to you.

"Who is she?" Mizune had asked him on the phone on the day following their encounter. Her tone was friendly, yet held that tone of warning that he was so accustomed to.

"How does that concern you?"

"I want to know who you're bringing around to hang out with Hoisuke."

"She's an acquaintance of mine," he paused, "and Hoisuke's teacher."

"That's inapropriate if you ask me."

Scoffing, he replied, "like what you did's so appropriate?"

A small pause ensued. When she spoke next, there was no mistaking the edge to her voice.

"You can't keep using that against me, Hajime."

"Don't tell me who I can or can't hang out with."

He'd hung up without bothering to wait for her response, seething and red hot with rage blubbering through his stomach.

Of course now that he thinks it over, Mizune has a point. Mixing the professional and the personal have never ended in happy endings. Not that this has ever stopped him before. He doesn't believe in what everyone else thinks is right. That's also one of the main reasons why Mizune couldn't handle it anymore. Or so she said before she went to suck someone else's dick.

His phone vibrates and fishing it out, a scowl instantly shadows his face upon seeing Oikawa's name flash across the screen.

Oikawa: Iwa-chan ~ have you asked her out yet?

Iwaizumi has to force himself to stay in control and not pound his phone to pieces when he types out his reply.

Iwaizumi: No.

Oikawa: BUT WHYYYY~ YOU SAID YOU FOUND HER CUTE.

Oikawa: and Hoisuke likes her. He already knows her.

Iwaizumi: I didn’t say that. And she's not interested.

Oikawa: Just because you suck at picking up cues doesn't mean she isn't throwing them at you 😏😏😏

Iwaizumi: shut up, shittykawa.

Oikawa: Just do it or I'll do it for you.

Iwaizumi: I don't even like her that way.

Oikawa: why'd you rant about not wanting to hurt her feelings yesterday night then?

Iwaizumi's hand rubs at his face with a groan. Oikawa's a little shit most of the time, but he's a perceptive little shit.

Oikawa: I mean it. Ask her out or I'll do it for you.

Oikawa: gotta go now. Match is starting. See ya!~ muah ❤

"Dumbass," Iwaizumi growls under his breath before shoving the phone back into his pocket. Easier said than done to ask someone out so casually, especially when she's Hoisuke's teacher.

If she accepts, great. If she doesn't, he'll have to suffer through humiliation for the rest of the year or avoid picking up Hoisuke altogether.

Oh fuck it.

He lets his body send the message before his brain can catch up to the way he has thrown himself under the bus, shoves his phone back into his pocket and tries to put the thought out of his mind even though the device suddenly feels hot and heavy in his pant pocket.

Iwaizumi: we're having takeout and movie night on Friday. You're free to join.

----

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[90stvshowgoth]

—BREAKING & ENTERING

—ch.1 —ch.2

summary: after dabi was seen leaving your apartment complex last week, the commission has sent a lesser known hero to help guard the building until new cameras are installed. however, no security measures in the world could keep dabi out.

w/c: 5064

tags: dubcon, cuckolding, creampie, voyeurism, humiliation, exhibitionism, arson

a/n: this is the final chapter to this little duology, and the reason why its so much shorter is because the first one was really supposed to stand on its own, but i got so many requests for a sequel i couldn’t help it. so i just took the kinks i didn’t get to use last time and pay off some setup and voila. however, just ‘cause this is the last chapter of this story doesn’t mean i’m not gonna write a fuck ton of other stuff for him. ily burn man. plus i’m working on a huge, multi-chapter fic for him while i post smaller one-shots >:) that being said, enjoy.

The impact Dabi left on your life was far bigger than you thought it would’ve been on the night you snuck him away from the law. As he was running from the cops someone saw him climb through your window, and a different person also saw him climb down the fire escape. With witnesses like that, the other tenants were downright furious.

You almost felt bad for the landlord, it wasn’t his fault you were insane enough to willingly let a villain come inside both you and your apartment.

Your landlord and the police department came up with a solution. The apartment complex would be installing new state-of-the-art locks on all fire-escape adjacent windows free of charge. This wasn’t exactly an issue with seeing Dabi again, since all you had to do was purposefully leave yours unlocked.

It would take two weeks to install all the cameras, but until then, a community-assigned hero would be stationed to guard the complex.

His name was Kao, a middle-ranked hero with bright orange hair and a winning smile framed with dimples. At first you thought he might’ve been one of the better heroes, waving you off to work and walking you there the other day, but recently he’d begun to creep you out. The friendly conversations about a tv show you both enjoyed began to turn into invasive questions about your love life.

A week of lingering glances and uncomfortable prying culminated that Friday as he had flat out asked you to dinner moments prior.

“C’mon, I just— I said that wrong, lemme try again,” He stuttered, keeping pace with you as you marched towards the building.

“No, Kao, look, you’re cool and all, but I’m really not looking to date anyone right now.” You huffed, striding into the doorway and towards the elevator. That might not’ve been the whole truth but you obviously couldn’t tell him that you had the hots for a terrorist.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck, “Well you just got off work, right? I remember which room you stay in, maybe I can swing by tonight?”

You whirled on him, your jaw slack in shock at the insensitivity of his words. The reminder that he knew where you lived sending a shiver down your spine, “Kao, this conversation is done. I don’t want you following me around anymore, hero,”

Deep down, your words sounded familiar. If they were raspier and said behind a thin veil of indifference, you might’ve realized that you were talking like Dabi.

“What is that supposed to mean? We’re the good guys!” You slammed your fist down on the close-door button, your mouth a thin line, daring Kao to make a move and stop the doors. He didn’t, and soon the reassuring pull of the elevator set your shaking body at ease.

‘Who does he think he is?’ You were bitter, rightfully so, you think.

You were so frustrated that you had difficulty inserting your keys into the lock, twisting it with a growl and throwing open the door, ready to collapse onto your pillow and vent to whoever was online about your heroic stalker.

When you noticed the scent of cigarettes in the air.

“Hey, doll,” Warmth surged through your chest at the sight of him, the villain’s feet kicked up onto the coffee table.

You were hanging your coat on the hook before moving beside him to the couch, “What took you so long?”

“Not happy to see me? You seem a lot bitchier than I remember,” The crude edge of his humor was a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling niceties of work, and you smiled for what felt like the first time that day.

Shaking your head, you toed out of your boots and made your way to the frayed couch, “I’ll tell you all about him,”

That got his attention, “Him?”

“A hero,” Dabi’s frown worsened, an accusatory look in his eyes, “before you ask, no, you idiot, I hate this guy, there’s not a chance I’d sleep with him.”

The tensity in his shoulders relaxed, bring the half-finished Newport to his lips as you continued, “Since you broke in last week all my neighbors lost their shit. They threatened to sue if my landlord didn’t assign a hero to watch the building for a bit. I thought he was cool, but I’ve just decided that he’s a total prick.”

He hummed, nodding understandingly, “Want me to kill him?”

You gaped, hitting him on the chest, “Wha—No, Dabi, what the hell?”

He just shrugged, the intensity of his words almost funny to you, and as you recounted the last twenty minutes the ashes of Dabi’s cigarette fell to the floor. The dying lights of the sun streamed through your window, the smoke oddly beautiful in the glow as he handed you the last hit of his cheap cigar.

“You know why heroes are like that?” You shook your head, enjoying the numbing calm of tobacco, “It’s cause they’re spoiled. They go their entire lives being praised for everything they do so they don’t know how to take no for a fuckin’ answer,”

Apparently your smoking buddy was feeling talkative, much to your delight. His words made you pause, remembering the relieved faces of your neighbors whenever they’d see the gaudy costume Kao wore as he strode by.

“Shit... guess you’re right,” You mumbled into his side, not minding the ever-present aroma of burnt skin and smoke that clung to Dabi’s coat.

He scoffed, “I’m always right, baby,” His words earning him a pinch on the arm.

“No, you ass, just about the hero stuff,” He grinned, the staples on his dimples taut against his skin as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your ear.

“Careful, doll, you’re starting to sound like a villain,” The drop in your stomach sent heat down your skin, yet somehow you were still shivering under his predatory gaze.

You shook your head, trying to will away the red that dusted your cheeks, “No way, my quirk isn’t strong enough to be a villain,”

He raised his eyebrow expectantly, broadly gesturing for you to go on.

“Well...” God, why is this embarrassing? “I can give people headaches.”

You didn’t know if he would laugh at you or belittle you for your meaningless quirk, but he did neither.

“Think you could practice it more? Get better at it?” He was serious, staring at you and expecting an answer.

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze, “I mean, maybe? It’s not hard to do, I guess,”

Dabi smirked, pulling you onto his lap. It felt as if the week hadn’t happened at all and you were right back where you started, your face flushing at the memories of that night. He dragged you close, eyes dark as he whispered something into your ear...

“Think you could split someone’s head open with a migraine?”

Your gut wrenched, flinching at the gory idea and making you sit up in Dabi’s lap. The atmosphere in the room hadn’t changed, his stare as menacing as before.

That is, until he started to crack up. Louder than you’d ever heard before, his fit filled the apartment until he had to cup his stomach from laughing too hard; the wheeze in his rough throat echoing around the room as your blush spread all the way down your neck.

“Oh, you asshole!” If anything, your shove against his chest only made him more giddy. The panic-fueled adrenaline was still surging through your body, unwillingly making the wetness between your thighs spread, even as you tried to wrap your head around the fact that Dabi had been fucking with you.

Your legs shook as he held on to you for balance, his cackling dying down but the shit-eating grin never leaving his face, “You were so freaked out, huh?”

“Yeah, no shit!”

He hummed, running a hand through your hair and suddenly yanking you forward, basking in the sharp yelp it brought from you, “You’re cute when you’re scared,”

You’d missed the way his scabbed lips felt on yours more than you’d ever admit. There was something about him that left you breathless, eager and questioning your life choices. Groaning into his mouth before pulling back and laving your slick tongue along his disfigured lower lip, you rolled your aching heat against him to force a truly pornographic moan from his mouth.

“Oh, fuck—” One of his hands slid down your back, grabbing your ass through your jeans, “Fucking hell, you missed me that much?”

You nodded dumbly into his shoulder, pressing chaste kisses along the ragged skin as he slid his finger past the band of your jeans, cupping your dripping sex with wide eyes.

“Goddamn, s’no way you’re this wet for me already,” His eyes were scrutinizing, trying to figure out why you were hiding into his neck, “What’s got you so worked up, doll?”

You couldn’t come up with a good excuse in time, Dabi thinking back to how your thighs had tightened up when he asked if you could kill someone, your eyes were frightened back then, yes, but there was something else. Something you wouldn’t tell him.

When the realization hit him, it hit hard.

“Holy shit, you get off on being scared?” He couldn’t believe his luck, the embarrassed groan you buried into his shoulder confirming his suspicions.

Dabi ran a hand through his hair, a childish wonder over his features, “Aren’t I fuckin’ lucky?” He sneered, pulling you back til you were at eye-level again.

“I’m gonna try something, baby,” there was an edge to his voice as he settled one hand on the small of your back, pressing your tits against his chest as he held your bra strap back with the other.

“What are you… Dabi, what are you doing?” The scent of fire and burning fabric filled the air, the ends of your bralette smoking between his fingertips, embers turning to ash and sprinkling down the couch until it was flimsy enough for Dabi to rip free, teeth sinking into your neck as he held you still to keep your skin safe.

It was jarring and a bit terrifying to be restrained against someone like Dabi without knowing his intentions. But nothing in you could deny the blinding rush of pleasure it ripped down your spine.

“It’s all starting to make sense, doll-face, I guess I was right the first time,” His hands tossed the smoking bra into hallway, reaching between you and torturously pinching and pulling on the rosy blush of your tits, “you do have a thing for villains,”

“Can’t wait to fuck that tight pussy again, doll,” Without warning he shoved your torso forward, your body bouncing against the couch, his hands flying to the button of your jeans.

“—Didn’t have time to take you right last time, didn’t get to taste you,” his words made you whimper in his grasp, keeping your legs somewhat raised as tugged down the tight denim.

You fully expected him to take you rough like before, make you choke on his cock before having his fill, but as he tugged off your black panties he crawled down the trembling body beneath him, slowly moving over your ribs, your stomach, and finally your drooling cunt.

He never broke eye contact with you as he pulled your thighs closer, keeping them spread wide as the hot fan of his breath on your pussy sent a thrill through your neglected nerves.

“I want you to scream my name,” It was an order, not a request. The unhinged tremor in his hands was unsettling, an unspoken threat hanging in the air.

Dabi’s tongue immediately found your clit, mouth wrapping around the glistening bead and sucking all at once, the moan it drew from your lips unholy. He moaned at the taste, hiking up your hips onto his shoulders.

“Christ, you’re sweet, doll, like fuckin’ candy...” He muttered in disbelief, more to himself that to you, licking a wide stripe along your drenched lips, diving into you deep enough to have your limbs spasming around him.

On instinct your hand flew to your mouth to muffle the sharp cry that the villain drew. He didn’t warn you before bringing his hand up high and slapping it into the bare skin of your thigh, a scream echoing through the living room. Distantly, you wondered if your neighbors could hear...

“Don’t you dare hide a single sound from me, slut, or this ends now,” his ultimatum was scary but the insult felt heavy in a way you’d never felt before, and you nodded without a second thought, breathlessly bunching one hand into the arm of the couch above you and the other into the ashy black of his hair.

You nodded down to him, silently saying to continue; the villain fixed on watching as your chest swelled in time with your breathing, a rush of blood going to the heat of his cock.

His pace was hungry, nipping at your thighs whenever he thought you were too comfortable, spinning circles into your clit with his tongue and chuckling at the noises it brought, “You gonna cum, princess?” You could only respond with a scream of his name, the plea music to his ears, but he needed you to be louder if he was to get what he wanted.

“Louder,” Dabi called your name like a prayer, moaning into your cunt as you practically suffocated him between your thighs, “Fuck—Louder, baby, scream it,”

“Dabi!!” Your orgasm was hot against his tongue and he drank in every last drop of your climax until you were wrenching away his greedy mouth, your pussy swollen and red from his care.

Just as you started to compose yourself, a frantic banging sounded on the door. Someone from the hallway was slamming down their fist, screaming your name.

“Hey! Did you just say Dabi?! Are you okay in there?” It was Kao.

Horror clawed away any kind of afterglow as you cupped your hand to your mouth, leaning up on your elbow and whispering, “What do I say?”

Dabi’s voice was just low enough to hide behind the pounding of Kao’s fists, “Do you trust me?”

Before you could answer the hero behind the wall called your name again.

“If you don’t answer me in five seconds I’m breaking this door down!”

Your gaze flickered from the front door to the villain that was wiping your slick from his chin.

“Yes,”

Dabi grinned, grabbing your wrists and holding you against his shirt, one hand wrapped painfully around your tits and the other erupting with blue fire in his palm.

“Come and get her, hero!” You made a confused squeal, thrashing around in his grasp, eyes wide and afraid as Dabi shushed into your ear, trying to calm you down.

‘Like hell if you’d calm down, he’d practically just signed your death sentence!’ you heaved against the fugitive, trying to shake yourself free to no avail.

All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and imagine you were somewhere else as door was jolted in its hinges, the doorknob falling with a distant clang, and before you could beg Dabi to stop whatever stupid game he was playing, Kao ran into the room, eyes furrowed and fists raised as the door squeaked on the loose hinges behind him, blissfully unaware.

“Where are y—“ Kao’s voice paused mid-sentence, you flinched in Dabi’s hold, the heat of the redhead’s stare washing over you, naked and wet, making you tilt your head down, trying to hide yourself from the world.

“Isn’t she cute, hero?” Dabi rasped against you, the heat of his fire illuminated against the sweaty sheen of your trembling body. Kao didn’t know what to do, flustered and struggling to hide the tent in his latex costume.

You knew fighting back against the villain was pointless, falling limp in the strength of his arms as he chuckled into your neck, looking over at the bump in his pants, “You were right, babe, I think he likes you,”

“Get your filthy hands off of her!” Kao screamed, diving towards the couch with his fist raised back.

Dabi simply grinned, carefully hovering his flame ever closer to your now bare tits, you couldn’t help but scream at the proximity, and whatever plan Kao had in his mind died before his fist could make impact.

His novocaine laced voice spoke calmly beside your ear, “Any closer and she’s dead,” The hot rush down your legs wasn’t due to his flames, as one hand took to rubbing your sensitive sex, the sounds it elicited from you unintentional and mortifying under the presence of Kao in the room.

“What... what do you want, you bastard?” Dabi laughed at that one, tweaking your clit between his fingers and conducting the most beautiful notes from your pillowy lips.

“I think It’s pretty obvious what I want, don’t you think?” Your name on his lips sent you keening against him despite the inferno roaring inches away from your skin. He couldn’t move without Dabi’s flames hovering ever closer to your heaving chest, and to Kao, you were very clearly about to die. Although you didn’t believe Dabi would hurt you, he had asked you to trust him before he got Kao’s attention, after all, the line between foreplay and conflagration was becoming blurry.

Kao backed up into the half wall that separated the living room from the kitchen, barely making an effort to try and hide his erection anymore, “I’ll send you to fucking Tartarus for this, Dabi.”

“Oooo, scary,” His unlit hand trailed down your jawline, tilting you to his side until he could slide his tongue into your open lips, humming into your mouth, “What do you think, doll?

“Dabi, please... wait,“ The strength in your voice wasn’t as heated as before, and even you had to admit it sounded half-assed.

Kao’s quirk must be no good for long range because all he could do was stand there, trying to avert his eyes from your drooling cunt in favor of glaring daggers at the coy villain pulling soft mewls from your lips, “I swear... I’ll see you rot in prison for this. You’ll be fucking executed, you rapist—“

“—woah, woah, that stings, hero. Doll, is that really what I’m doin’?” You groaned, not exactly answering because you couldn’t hear the question, your eyes still shut tight in embarrassment.

The growl in his voice sent another soaking rush towards your pussy, as his hand grabbed you jaw, pulling you up, “Look at me,” Your eyes widened at the sight of Dabi so close to you, his chest warm against your back, the aches of your last orgasm fading into something new.

“Tell me to stop, princess, your call,” Time stood still as Dabi kissed a soft pathway along your neck, weirdly gentle as he listened for your response, his clothed hard-on pressed firmly against your ass.

Too flustered to speak, you merely wrenched your arm free from his grasp, carding you hand through his hair and pulling him to your desperate lips. You could feel him tug into a smirk against you as your hips eagerly ground themselves on him despite the audience.

Kao choked on his own spit, stepping backwards, but stopped when Dabi aimed his ignited hand towards the hero who was having difficulty piecing together your actions in his head. “What,” His voice cracked when he called out your name, “are you...?”

Dabi pulled away, a feral glint in the blue hidden beneath his hair as he licked a disgustingly wet stripe along your cheek, chest rumbling behind you as you squirmed at the gross feeling, “I’m still gonna need you to beg, sweetheart.”

Your dignity was hanging by a thread, hinging on whether or not you followed his lead, but the insane buzz your anxiety had stirred up under Kao’s confused stare and Dabi’s aching cock was impossible to ignore. He rut himself into the dripping curve of your ass, his jeans soaked with your slick as you found the courage to speak.

“Fuh...” Carefully, Dabi pressed a loving kiss to your temple, his stare fixated on Kao’s as you strung the syllables together, “Fuck me, Dabi,”

The hero couldn’t believe his ears. She’d turned him down countless times despite his pursuits, yet she was somehow fine with this? Kao briefly thought that perhaps his crush was a villain this whole time, but that couldn’t make sense with her weak quirk.

You felt Dabi twitch beneath you, the shameless way you showed yourself off was as humiliating as it was hot, and he laughed in lightheaded disbelief against the back of your neck, taking your ass in one hand and slipping the other down his pants, tugging off the painful metal zipper until his boxers were pulled down just enough for his cock to finally be met with the soft warmth of your cunt.

“As the lady commands,” Dabi grinned, reaching around your waist to take his pierced dick in his hand, rubbing and tapping his swollen head deliberately against your clit, pre-cum drenching your pussy as you felt boneless in his arms.

“Ah-! St..S-top tea-sing, Dabi!” You babbled, squirming to try and find an escape from his grasp or maybe trying to force him inside you, but all your struggling did was make him harder. But before you could beg, you froze at the sight of Kao a few feet away, his legs bending into a sprinter’s pose. He was going to run?

Dabi was having none of it, a controlled jet of flame grazing Kao’s knee, scalding the skin beneath the latex. The hero cried out into the bite of his fist, collapsing into the wall a few feet away.

“Nah, hero. You’re not leaving just yet,” The villain rearranged you on his lap, “See, the thought of you jerking off to my girl? It kinda pisses me off, actually,”

The color in Kao’s face drained as he had no choice but to sit and watch as Dabi slowly sunk you down on top of him, one hand drawing soft circles into your stomach as you reveled in the feeling of his piercings hot against every part of you.

“Though, I’m wondering, what did you think about, huh?” Kao sputtered, unable to form words just like you, formless noises falling from your lips.

His scarred hands grasped at the flesh of your thighs, raising you up only to shove you back onto his cock, the flames that still extended to threaten Kao suddenly flared up in time with his thrusts, the weight of him felt so much deeper at this angle and it was hard to breathe, let alone speak.

“I... nothing! I didn’t—“ Another whip of fire cut through the room from Dabi’s fingertips, a cast of blue leaving bubbling skin in its wake, pain flashing across Kao’s face.

“Fuckin’ liar,” You yelped as Dabi shoved you down, moaning into your ear as you squeezed against him, sobbing his name into his chest as he picked up a steady pace in your guts.

Kao cried out, stuttering and gripping along the inflamed line of skin, “I-I thought— thought about her... fuck— I just wanted her to suck me off, alright? There, I said it! Are you happy now?”

He must’ve realized the mistake in his words as soon as he said them, squeezing your eyes shut but having no choice but to smell the stench of burning flesh and hear the sound of muffled screaming as it filled your apartment, “Can’t blame you though, her mouth is God,”

Your hands scrambled for balance against Dabi as the screaming of his victim made him downright feral, filling your tight heat so well it had you crying.

“Damn, you’re soaked for me, doll, I just knew you were a kinky fuck deep down. You’re a slutty little girl for me, aren’t ya?”

As much as it hurt to admit it, he was right. He was painfully right, and you told him so. The unhinged, unstoppable force that was Dabi ignited a passion in you that’d never been fed before. He was torturing the hero you hated all while taking your cunt in deep, harsh thrusts, the metal imbedded into his cock and his chest behind you were blisteringly hot against your skin.

“Tell him, baby,” His question fell on deaf ears, your tongue lolling from your mouth a bit at the pleasure.

It caught you off guard when he drew his hand back and slapped you across the cheek, a blistering red handprint in its wake, saying your name so softly, turning off his quirk to run his hands through your hair, he whispered, “Tell that fucking hero who you belong to,”

The world tipped over as Dabi gripped your shoulders, pushing you onto the wooden coffee table so your ass stuck in the air. In an instant he was on you again, pounding into your cunt with a glazed fervor, your words downright biblical in his ears.

“On-ly... Dabi ca—Ngh, Only Dabi can fuck me this good,” You forced the words from your throat, thankful for the table serving as an impartial shoulder to cry on as Dabi lined himself up with your cunt.

“More, princess,” The snap of his hips had you drooling onto the table, catching sight of Kao’s slumped body in the corner as Dabi’s breath sounded much louder than before.

“Fuck, baby—” You cried, craning your neck back to look at him. Sweat glistened at the crown of his dark hair, steam shading his breath as he took you hard, “Your cock is— shit its so deep in me,”

Your nerves were spent from exhaustion as he railed you, being more vocal than before as he choked at the feeling of your walls tightening around him, his fingernails digging future bruises into your hip dips, “Wanna feel you cum in me, want you to fill me up— Dabi, wanna make you feel good,”

“Fuck, doll, I can’t...” He ground his teeth together, making you squeal as he mounted you from behind, spreading your legs out wide so you had no way to hide yourself, “Gonna fuck’n cum-gonna cum in you- fuck, fuck, fuck—!“

You both hit your highs at the same time, Dabi accidentally digging your face into the wood as he held you as tightly to him as possible, his cum running hot due to his quirk as he pumped you full, that broken cry of yours like music to his ears, humping you a few times to ride out his climax.

You felt warm and safe, Dabi’s weight a comfortable blanket even with your shivering skin pressed naked into the coffee table. However, the quietly groaning hero in the corner made you quickly come back down to earth.

“Dabi... did you kill him?” Your voice was small beneath him, but he just shrugged.

“Nah, not yet, don’t worry,” He kissed your neck one more time, his thumb rubbing circles into your indented stomach, pulling you off the table and back into his arms.

He pulled out of you and grinned at the sight of his release spilling down your thighs, “Damn...” he whispered, taking in the sight with a satisfied whistle, “C’mon Doll, forget about him.”

You were grateful he carried you bridal style to your bedroom, your legs gelatin at this point, and as he laid you down to rest he grabbed one of your discarded shirts that hadn’t made it to the hamper and wiped down the remains of sex from your twitching cunt before leaving the cum-stained top ignored on the ground.

“You doing good, baby? Didn’t go too hard, did I?” His concern was diminished somewhat by the grin on his face, satisfied with the mumbling, love-drunk form he’d reduced you to.

Shaking your head, you burrowed into the warm blankets, peeking your eyes out from beyond the covers in a way that even Dabi couldn’t deny was pretty cute, “No, just... what are you gonna do with Kao?”

His face was unreadable as he leaned closer, “Do you really want to know?”

Truth be told, no, you didn’t, you were just a civilian, far removed from the complex fight between heroes and villains. You were only in this situation because you’d grown to care about Dabi. In some small, sarcastic way, he’d wormed his way into your life, and he hadn’t hurt you so far, only going as close as possible to bring you over the edge again and again.

“No...”

“Good answer,” he stood up, tucking himself back into his jeans as he went back into the living room. You heard a muffled thud and what sounded like Dabi cursing before he reappeared in your bedroom, Kao’s unconscious body slung over his shoulder. For such a wiry guy, Dabi was pretty strong. Moving to the open window he basically threw Kao’s body onto the outside metal grating, his lungs uneven after carrying him.

Just as he swung his leg onto the windowsill you shot up in your bed, hand outstretched, “Wait!”

He turned back to look at you, genuinely confused as to what you could want.

“Kiss me before you go?”

He froze, then grinned, scoffing at the innocent gesture you gave so openly to a murderer like him. There had to be something wrong with his little villain-in-training to make her okay with it, just like him. Dabi ignored that thought for another day, striding forward and finally giving you the goodbye kiss you’d been denied last time, his tongue trying to map out every detail in case he could ever forget before pulling away with a warm softness to his ocean eyes.

“I think I might be starting to like you, Doll,” A feint rush of color fell on his unmarred skin and you’re sure your heart stopped beating for a good three seconds.

His words were a worn record being played over and over in your head long after he crawled down your fire escape, the teasing, sated haze in his voice hidden beneath a rasp of smoke. You weren’t sure how much he meant what he said, but you’re sure that the first thing you said in return was exactly what he wanted to hear; at least judging from the boyish smile that lit up his face when you said it.

“Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay,”

@effmigentlywithachainsaw @touyasfatcock @thicchaikyuuboys @awritersometimes @chey-the-simp

#dabi x reader #dabi #dabi x reader smut #dubcon #murder #mha #my hero academia #dabi smut #touya x reader #touya todoroki

[cinnamonruts]

SUMMARY → the three times you can’t talk and the one time you do

PAIRING → todoroki shouto x fem!reader

GENRE → comfort/crack

MASTERLIST → if you want to read more fics of mine

READERS QUIRK → the reader has an unidentified electric quirk ( from another multi-chapter todoroki fic that is still in the developing stages ) and when she get nervous sparks come from her face much like pikachu

A/N → these are just blue spring ride scenes that i think shouto would fall into — also, whomever made this manga coloring; it is gorgeous!

i. with your arms full of papers

As the class rep of 1-F there are many duties. Making sure no one blows up the classroom, everyone there needs are taken care of, and of course getting all the paperwork of what you and your classmates have fixed, created and blueprinted to the filing system Principal Nezu has created for your department.

That system being implemented after Hatsume-senpai has made so many inventions that the school did not know about caused many hero students a visit to Recovery Girl. So, now prevent measurements are taken as she sailed off to her second year.

Sliding the door open with your leg, not being allowed to take unfilled inventions outside the support course classrooms, you have to do it this way — something, you should thank Hatsume-senpai for, again — your eyes contact with a mismatched beautiful eyes and an even more beautiful face to match it. Your lips part as you quite obviously stare at the angle in front of you.

“Hi.” he said, staring right back at you. Parting your lips, you try to get words out but instead just sounds come out. Making your eyes widen at the sudden embarrassment of stuttering and falling over your tongue in front of him sets in, “Are you okay?”

Looking down again, you nod, “Maybe she is a mute.” one voice offers up at your silence.

“Mutes don’t try to talk.”

Squeezing your eyes shit, you turn around. Running as fast as you can with the folders. Praying you will not let them fall as you leave the group of students to themselves.

“Uh… should we follow her?”

“I think she does not want to be followed.”

ii. falling into his lap

“Hi.” a voice suddenly says. Making you freeze up at the deep voice addressing you. Turning around, your eyes widen a bit at how much closer he is standing than you had expected, “Support Course, right?”

Nodding you try to step around him to bring some space between the two of you. While also inching closer to the door so you will not embarrass yourself in front of the gorgeous boy again.

Due to that, you did not fully focus on where you placed your feet, you accidentally stepped on his foot instead. Wincing at your metal cladded boots, a gasp leave your lips at the pain it must be ( honestly it is cladded so well that it would hurt a hammer before it would hurr your toes ).

Dropping down, you try to help him. Instead, heads bump into each other. Wincing again you hold your forehead, trying to stop the throbbing. Standing up to fast your blood rush to your head; “Hey—” startled by the new voice, you want to curse at the sudden attention you are getting.

Turning around the girl stands incredibly close. Stepping back you wonder if either of them has ever learned about personal space or if pretty privilege exhumed them from ever having to learn it.

Yet those questions leave as the fast step you took made you wobble in your boots and down you went, taking him with you. Gasping at the hand that squeezed you close, bracing for the impact. Trying not to focus on it, you try to focus on not electrocuting the boy, “I-” you say trying to apologise.

“Are you okay?” the girl asks, cutting you off. The sparks from your face now not being able to be stopped, pushing up from the boy. A groan leaves his lips as you pushed onto something you should not have.

Shifting your eyes to him, fire waves from his face as he glances down. Following his eyes, your sparks flare up even more as you see your hand right on top of— scramble to your feet. Bolting out of the library as fast as your boots will take you as Lugosi-sensei, the librarian, reminds you that you should not run in those boots or you might break a bone.

Being to surprised by the speed she left at, “Well, she couldn’t have run faster from you if she had tried.” Yaoyorozu tells her classmate who is slowly standing up again.

“What even happened?” Midoriya asks baffled at the whole ordeal. He saw it all but it made no sense at all. How was it even able to have that many coincidences happen all at once? How did ‘hi’ get to running — if you could have called it that — out of the library.

Making him shake his head, letting his hair fall into his eyes, “I have no clue. I just said hi, it was quite, she stood op my foot, our heads hit and we weirdly we fell. Then she touched my crotch and she ran.”

“I guess that it was very embarrassing.”

iii. as you cry in public

It is a natural habit at this point; during every prop week, you have at least a couple cry sessions.

Not only having to make sure your project is done well and getting all your papers on track but also those of everyone in your class. Constantly putting out fires figuratively and literally. Gets really stressful and the only — healthy — way of dealing with it is having a cry.

To let all of it out at your special place under the window outside which is where you resided right now. What you definitely hadn’t expected or could have foreseen was an input fire drill.

Trying to clean your face up you and make yourself look as presentable as possible and not like you just cried. Getting your tissues you wipe your face clean, softly thanking your mum for reminding you to always have them on hand.

Feeling an arm around your shoulder, before being pulled into a chest. Stiffing up at the sudden feeling, you glance up having your eyes connect with one grey and one blue eye.

Now being even more flustered by simply having him continuously catching you at the most awkward of times. Instead of truly thinking about it, you take him up on the invite and push your face into his shoulder, sighing deeply having a scent of pine and cologne invade your senses.

Having truly calmed down, you feel internal grateful for this stranger that held you and prevented being seen crying by everyone as he sways us slowly. Making it seem like the two of you were just weird people hugging out of a window instead of what was actually happening, “Are you okay?” he asks softly.

Nodding, you pull away. Smiling softly at him as you leave without another word being too embarrassed to say anything else.

iv. tired of all the work

Rubbing your eyes you lay your head onto your work table. Just for a moment, in a minute you will stand up. It is Friday night and everyone has just left to the dorms; prop week was successful and Principal Nezu has gifted — your class — as the most promising new inventors. Earning your all the price; which is the same every year.

An invite to I-Island and it’s benefactors annual event. I-Island is a floating island close to the coast, but most of them have a quarters on land.

Who have hired many U.A. alumni after they have interned with them. Specifically, the class president who has pulled the class to those achievements. Which is why you wanted to be the rep to begin with but slowly you start to realise why no one else wanted it.

Hearing the door slide open, you can not be bothered to stand up. So, you just groan to signal that you are still there, keeping your eyes closed as you hear soft footsteps come closer to you.

The scraping of the chair and the soft shuffle makes you open your eyes. Connecting with heteroromantic eyes, the handsome stranger. Honestly, there are many things you have gone over to say to him since the last time you saw him a few days ago; ‘I’m not a mute.’ , ‘I’m sorry I touched your no-no-square.’ , ‘Thank you for letting me cry on your shoulder.’ but instead of all of that you just stared in his eyes and softly whispered the first thing that came to mind;

“You have really pretty eyes."

Making him raise a brow as you trace your eyes over his face. From his eyes to the tip of his nose ending on his lips, “You think so?" He asks in the same soft tone.

Nodding, you hum softly, “Could look at them forever." you say, the sleep deprivation letting you say whatever without shame.

“You can." and for the rest of the night of you did. There was slow conversation and comforting silent, truly you could have lived in that moment forever.

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST → @tsukkisbae @lovinnoya @tanakasimpcorner @lonelyweeb77 @suga-tofu @yammmers @tanakasprayer @honeykami @intense-socks @bakugoubiddies @bakujirou4562 @littlemaladaptivedaydreamer @melodyofroses @softiehawks @hotgreenteea @falling4fandoms

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x you #mha x you #bnha x y/n #mha x y/n #bnha fluff #mha fluff #todoroki x reader #todoroki x y/n #todoroki x you #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x you #todoroki shouto x y/n #todoroki fluff #todoroki comfort #todoroki shouto fluff #todoroki shouto comfort #shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto x y/n #shouto todoroki x reader

[softboywriting]

Delicate | Billy Russo

Summary: Billy takes you on a surprise weekend trip and is forced to face some truths about himself. [Fluff] [Alternate Timeline - Castle Family Alive] [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] 

Word Count: 4.4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

A/N: This is in the same universe as my fic Little Moments and Meet The Parents but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

___

"I want to take you somewhere." Billy says walking into your shared office near closing time. He's got on a pair of jeans, a sweater and his boots. Not quite the usual work attire but you love his casual wear.

"A date?"

"No. More of a long weekend trip."

You raise your eyebrows and push away from your desk. A weekend trip is a big surprise. Not that you have plans or anything. "Where to?"

"England."

"England?!" You splutter. "That is not a weekend trip Billy!"

Billy gathers your jacket and purse from the hooks behind the door. "It is. The flight leaves in about two hours."

"Billy! I haven't packed a single thing, I-I'm not ready!" You take your items from him and run a hand through your hair. Weekend trips are like in-state or nearby. They're a night at a hotel and seeing a museum for two days or something. Not flying to England and doing Gods know what.

"You cannot be serious."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders. "I am serious. I've got your stuff packed. Don't worry."

"What did you pack me?"

"Clothes. Trust me, I know what you wear."

"Why the surprise? Why not tell me sooner?"

Billy chuckles. "Don't worry about it. You'll like it."

"Where are we even going?" You sigh as he walks with you out of the office and down the steps to the main floor. "London or Wales? Are we going for business or pleasure?"

"We're going to Devon."

"Where the fuck is that?"

"England."

You smack his back and he laughs. "You son of a bitch. Why?"

"Pleasure."

"Ugh why now though? Why not later?"

Billy opens the passenger door to his car as you approach it. He leans on the roof, gesturing you inside. "C'mon the airport is almost half an hour drive, and we gotta stop at the apartment for our stuff."

You sink down in the passenger seat and glare up at him suspiciously. He's being like this on purpose. You hate not knowing what is going on and he knows it. The last thing you expected to do after work was to be hurried onto a plane that is no doubt a multi-hour flight. But here you are and there he is, staring down at you.

"Get in? I'm not the one wasting time now."

"God you're beautiful." He leans in and kisses your cheek quickly. "And I know you're pissed." He closes the door and walks around to get in the driver's seat. "I promise it will be worth it."

You lean your head back and close your eyes as he drives out of the lot. "It better be. This is very spontaneous and off my usual rhythm."

"I know. But you'll love it. I know you will."

"Mmm." You turn on the seat warmer and relax into the lush comfort. "You're also lucky I love you, and trust you."

Billy chuckles as his hand finds yours, thumb stroking the tops of your fingers.

"I wouldn't let anyone else pack me a bag, let alone take me to a foreign country for a weekend." You scoff. "That sounds so wildly pretentious."

"It's alright. It is a little pretentious, but we've earned it."

"You've earned it."

"Hey." He squeezes your hand and you open your eyes to look at him. "This company is just as much yours as mine."

"Bullshit. It is not. My name isn't on the lease, it's not on the LLC, I'm just your assistant and girlfriend."

Billy scoffs and turns the car into the parking garage of his apartment complex. He lives close to Anvil, honestly you don't actually need to drive. He just likes to show off his car. It gets dark as you enter the garage but you can tell he's not having any of your shit.

"When I marry you, your name will be on all of that."

"What?"

"What?"

"When you marry me?" You swallow hard as he stops the car in a space. It's only been a about six months that you've officially been an item. A little quick to be thinking about marriage.

Billy kills the engine and pockets his keys. "Yeah, when." He opens the door so nonchalantly, like he hasn't just thrown you for a loop. He walks around and opens your door. "C'mon, up and attem sweetheart."

"You're joking right?"

"About what? Marrying you one day?" He puts his hand on your back as you head to the elevator. "You're absolutely going to be a Russo. No doubt about it."

"I don't have a choice then?"

"Of course you have a choice." He presses the button to the penthouse and puts in the security key to make it go. "You can say no."

"Are you asking me right now?" You laugh and he turns, hands on your hips as he walks you into the wall, eyes locked on yours. "W-what's this about?"

Billy licks his lip and sets his jaw. It's not anger. He's making a decision in that brain of his. Is he asking? Is he teasing?

"You'll know when I ask."

"It's only been a few months. Don't rush."

"When you know you know right?"

"Billy, c'mon." You give him a look. "Using Frank's lines now?"

Billy steps aways, hands falling from your body and he runs a hand over his hair. "Sometimes that asshole is right about things."

You chuckle. "Sometimes."

"Enough about that. We have a plane to catch." The elevator dings and the doors open to the short hall before his penthouse. "Get your pretty ass changed and let's go."

"So pushy." You giggle and he shoves your shoulder. "Hey!"

"I'm pushy." He pushes again and you stumble into the door before he pins you against it. "You're so lucky we don't have time to mess around."

"Lucky?" You wiggle your ass against his waist. "Or unfortunate. Because any chance I miss to have-"

His hand comes up along your throat and you groan, tilting your head back. "Keep talking and I'm gonna make time."

"Or maybe we'd miss the flight."

"Little shit." He drops the hand on your throat and swats your ass before unlocking the door and ushering you inside. "Go change. Now."

"Okay, okay, good grief."

"We'll just join the mile high club." He calls out as you head to the bedroom to change. "I've always wanted to see how we'd fit in a tiny bathroom!"

"Those things are filthy! No!"

"Then you can ride me in the seat in first class!"

You pop your head around the door and he is grinning, leaning against the kitchen island. You narrow your eyes and he just raises his eyebrows. "Not happening."

"We'll see sweetheart."

"Whatever."

"Mmm. I'm very persuasive."

You roll your eyes and go back to changing clothes. If he thinks you're gonna do the dirty on an airplane he has a world of disappointment coming.

_________________

Billy always gets his way it would seem. Because less than half an hour ago you were on his lap, bouncing on his dick while he grinned oh so smugly. The flight was less than full for the first class seating, your nearest neighbor was across the aisle and six sections back. There were dividers between the seats, privacy walls. That's what really ended up convincing you in the end.

All that and you maybe sort of got off to the thought of being semi public about the whole ordeal. A kink you didn't know you had until Billy was whispering filth in your ear and making you squirm.

"How much longer?" You ask, curling into your seat and yawning.

"Three more hours. We'll land in Exeter."

"Seven hours to a spontaneous weekend? This is insane. When we arrive it's going to be dark. I assume you have a place for us to stay?"

Billy rolls his eyes. "Of course I do. We're not camping out in a train station."

"Oh fuck you."

"Get some sleep."

"I'd love to but I don't sleep well on planes."

"You fuck well on 'em."

"Billy!" You kick his leg and he grins. "Shut up!"

Billy puts his hand out and you take it. "We can go another round to kill the time."

You grab the complimentary earbuds in a little package and rip them open to stuff them in your ears. "Can't hear you."

"Bullshit."

"What?" You smirk, gesturing to the earbuds. "Can't hear ya."

Billy leans in and your eyes lock with his. "Maybe I should raise my voice then. And ask if YOU WANT TO F-"

You slam your hand against his mouth and he grins behind your palm. "Son of a bitch."

"You know I am." He licks your palm and sits back in his seat. He side eyes you, gauging your reaction to his childish move while nonchalantly opening a travel guide pamphlet.

You wipe your hand on his thigh and he chuckles. Whatever awaits in Devon in three or four hours better be good because he is really dancing on your last nerve. What has got him so wound up, you have no idea.

____________________

Devon is... breathtaking. It's the English country side on the ocean. The town you drove through was all cobblestone homes and shops and it looked like a fairytale honestly. Places like this didn't actually exist in your mind but here you are. It's so radically different than New York, even the country side of the state. You're stunned silent for the majority of the drive to your destination. Even in the evening it looks incredible.

Billy turns onto a road with a gate through a dense wooded area. The gate is open and he slides the rental car through carefully as not to scratch the sides on the narrow stone walls along the roadway. The path winds and winds until it opens up, the drive lined with a shorter stone wall as it leads to a large beautiful house.

"Where are we?"

Billy turns the car into the dirt and rock parking area in front of the door to the house. "We're in Dartmouth, just outside of it actually."

"Why? This place is beautiful, don't get me wrong. I'm just confused why we're here."

He looks over at you and brings your hand up to kiss. "I told you I was taking you on a weekend vacation."

"So you rented this house? Or does someone live here that we're staying with?"

"I bought it." He looks up at the door from beyond your window. "It's ours."

You turn and look at the house. "What? Billy you don't just buy a house! What on Earth is going through your head?!"

"What's going through my head is that I saw an opportunity and I took it. A friend of mine, Martin, had this place here after he got out of the Marines. His wife was English. Anyway, the family moved recently, and left everything behind because it is too expensive to haul across the ocean to Texas where they were relocating."

"So you bought a house with someone else's whole life inside?"

"Well, they took their personal belongings. It's furnished and decorated but we can change that."

You look over at Billy and lay a hand on his chest. "This is insane. Why would you buy a house in England?! What could you possibly want to do with it?"

"Live in it."

"Billy. Anvil is in New York. How do you propose to move here, bumfuck nowhere England, and run the company?"

Billy smiles and kisses your cheek. "Semantics. C'mon let's go see the house."

"Billy!"

He climbs out of the car and walks around to open your door. "It's beautiful, you're going to love it."

You step out with his hand in yours and he pulls out his keys to unlock the front door. As the door swings open you're hit with the smell of cinnamon, warm earthy spices, and vanilla.

"Come inside." Billy pulls you in gently. "It's incredible."

Inside is far more than incredible. It's like a dream, a home from some show book. The floors are dark natural wood, there are stairs with intricate banisters by the door, three archways to various rooms that are just the epitome of a country house. It's rustic, traditional like a farm house that's been updated to the modern century but kept it's charm. You feel like you're in a fairytale still, but it's real. It's so real and the house is so beautiful. You've never seen anything like it with your own eyes.

"Billy...this is...why?"

"You're very attached to that word y'know." He chuckles and rubs your shoulders. "Stop asking why and start enjoying."

"I will, I mean but- this is...I don't know what to say."

"Stunning right? So different than the penthouse or your apartment."

"Radically different."

"Come explore with me." He takes your hands and walks backwards leading you into a dining area.

You look around at the empty china hutch, shelves with various pots and pans for storage and decor, the huge wood table that looks like it was handmade by someone many years ago. "You're going to propose."

"What?"

"You're going to propose to me here aren't you?"

Billy laughs and steps close, cradling your face in his hands. "Maybe."

"Maybe?!"

"Yeah, maybe." He kisses you softly. "And maybe I just brought you here to get away from everything. Work, family, obligations. We can be us here. You and me, no one else."

"Billy we can be us at home, in the penthouse."

"I know, but this is a good place. The air is cleaner, life is simpler, everything is just easier here. We can unwind."

"You really bought this place?"

"Hundred percent. I've got a few payments still but it's almost paid off." He leans on a counter and you step between his legs. He gathers you close, hands on your sides. "It's got five bedrooms."

"Expansive."

"I think if...well..." He ducks his head in a chuckle, eyes refusing to meet yours. "If kids were ever, y'know, on the table. It'd be a good home."

"William Russo, you cannot be serious about that. You've thought of having kids? You?"

"No! No, fuck no. Maybe. I don't know." He pushes away from the counter and you'd stumble back as he walks into the enclosed patio off the side of the kitchen. "I'm just saying, it could accommodate kids."

You step down into the patio and look around. It's a simple screened in area, a sitting area and a terracotta chiminea sit on the right. "You'd have to marry me first."

"First?"

"Before I have a kid."

He laughs, leaning on the door to the outside area. "Of course."

"I thought you were afraid of having kids. Didn't want them to end up like you."

"Yeah well, I told myself a long time ago I'd never mess my kids up like I was messed up if I had them. I'd love 'em every day, make sure they know their dad loves them." His voice cracks and you cross the patio to lay a hand on his arm. "I won't have my kids wonderin' if their dad loves them. I won't."

"Hey, hey, you're not your parents okay?"

"I know. We'd be good, learning from our fucked up childhoods." He laughs joylessly and gathers you into his arms. "We'd have the happiest kid ever."

"We could. Maybe. One day."

"Lotta maybe's goin' on today." He bites his lip and puts his hand in yours. "It's late. We should go to bed."

"We've got a few days right? We can explore the house and grounds tomorrow."

"Absolutely."

You slide a hand over his jaw and pull him down for a kiss. "I do love this by the way. It's very romantic."

Billy smiles against your lips. "I'm not all hard edges and sharp wit." He kisses you slowly, pulling your lip between his teeth. "I do love you."

"I know." You bump your nose to his. "And I love you too."

_____________________

The sound of rain wakes you and you open your eyes to an unfamiliar room. It takes a moment to remember where you are. England. In a house Billy bought. Right. You rub your eyes and yawn big.

"You awake over there?" Billy asks, voice heavy and raspy with sleep.

"No."

"Yes you are." He reaches over under the blankets and wiggles his fingers up your side. "Little liar. How long you been awake?"

"Few moments."

"Mmm. It's raining. Can you hear it?"

"Yeah." You roll onto your back and Billy lifts his arm up so you can snuggle into his side. "It's nice."

Billy's hand finds your hair and twirls a piece between his fingers. "It rained the first time we met, remember?"

"It did?"

"Mmmhmm. The day you interviewed for the position at Anvil. It was pouring rain, I remember because when you came in you had on bright orange rainboots that you changed out of in the main room before coming up to do the interview."

You look up at him and his eyes are closed like he's picturing that day. "You saw that?"

"Of course I did. I see everything in Anvil."

"That's been so long ago, it seems like ages."

"Almost two years now."

"Crazy how things have changed."

Billy's hand leaves your hair and joins your hand on his chest. "Things will continue to change. Always."

You hum in agreement. He's right, logically, things will always change. But you feel he means more by that. "Billy, if you were to propose to me, how would you do it?"

"There is no fun in telling you."

"There is. It's healthy to discuss this in a relationship. So, how?"

Billy sits up a bit and you slide down his chest, face on his stomach. "Now, that's not fair. What about you? How would you propose to me?"

"I think, well, I think you're too smart. I think you'd figure it out before I could get it set up. I'd have to be blunt, slap a ring on the table and ask if you wanna do this."

He laughs, hand going to his chest as he struggles for words and air. "That is a hell of a proposal sweetheart!"

"You're a hell of a pain in the ass."

"Oh baby I know." He drops a quick kiss on your head. "I know. Now for me, I like to think I'd be a classic man. Dinner, dancing maybe. I'd get on one knee in a doorway somewhere and ask you, surprise you."

"You like to think? What's the reality look like then?"

"Reality is that you'd probably find the ring before I could plan something. You little snoop."

"Hey! You gave me free reign of the penthouse. No secrets."

"Yes yes. Alright, maybe I'd just surprise you. On a walk or something."

You rub over his chest and he hums. "I'd like that. But you don't wanna marry me yet. It's too soon."

"It's not too soon if you know."

"Yeah...let's get up. We have a house to explore." You sit up and he follows. "Maybe we can go into town for some breakfast too."

"Sounds like a plan."

______________________

The house is huge, well cared for, and beautifully designed. It's nothing like the apartments you grew up in your whole life. You never had a house, always dreamed of one. You like to think this one is exactly the summation of all those dreams. Like somehow Billy knew exactly what you wanted one day before you even knew yourself.

The gesture is lovely, the intent is good, but you cannot help but wonder why. Why now? Why this house? Why this place? Surely you shouldn't be one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but damnit you and Billy have just begun living together at his penthouse. You've not even settled the lease on your apartment. Now he's gone and bought a house in another country. It makes you worry, it makes you suspicious.

You don't want to push him. He has made it clear he doesn't want you to ask why, but to just accept it. That's not like you though. You can accept up to a point.

"Billy, I want to talk." You say as he sinks down in a chair beside the pool in the back area. You've gone out there post dinner for a swim after the rain.

Billy sets his phone on the side table and raises his eyebrows at you. "We've been talking all day sweetheart."

"I want to talk seriously. No antics, no sarcasm."

"Yeah, okay." He runs a hand over his hair. It's his nervous tick. A dead giveaway that he is truly listening to your words. "What's goin' on?"

You take a seat opposite him and take a deep breath. Where to begin. "Why did you buy this house?"

"I told you. Martin's family was moving and-"

"No." You say softly. "No, you didn't have to buy it from them. You chose to. Why?"

"I liked it."

"Okay. A house like this is a lot of money I presume. And yes, maybe the family gave you a discount or something, none the less it's a major expense for it to be a place you only come to now and again. What is the plan here?"

Billy chuckles and looks back at the house. "The plan is to live in it. Obviously. It's a house."

"Billy."

"What?"

You stare at him, lips pursed.

He looks away.

"We've only just moved in together, back home in New York. Do you plan on moving everything here? I'm just not understanding how this works Billy."

"Maybe someday we could move here. I suppose that's the end goal."

"You're thinking long term then? That I will surely be in your life for the rest of it?"

"I don't like where this is going." Billy's eyes harden and you know that look too well. "Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just saying that we're still very new into this relationship. It's been about six months, and a year of aqaintance-ship before that. I just feel like maybe you're making some very big moves and it's a bit much."

Billy leans back on the chair and closes his eyes. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"No, hey, no. I love this place, it's beautiful."

"I should have waited but I was just so excited about it."

"Honey."

"No, listen I don't know how to be in love. I've never been in love before, I'm sure of it." He looks over at you and you reach out and grab his hand. "I wanted to do this for you, to start putting things in motion because I don't want to lose you. I know that sounds so ridiculous, how does buying a house make you want to stay with me? I don't know honestly."

You squeeze his hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere I promise."

"I've never had something like this." He gestures to the house. "A stable home, a loving family. When we started dating, I knew I loved you. Hell. I blurted that shit out that night in my apartment. You had every right to be freaked out, to leave and quit Anvil. I was half shocked you didn't."

"I do love you Billy. The feeling was a hundred percent mutual. Don't doubt that."

"I don't. But I doubt myself all the time. Am I in love with you? Or do I have love for you? Over the last few months I've sorted out that I'm in love. I don't know how to be in love. I don't know what steps to take, how fast things should move. I can count on one hand the number of relationships I've had that were more than sex, and they obviously didn't end well. If the house is too much, we'll wait. I don't care if it's years, we'll wait to move here. Or if you don't want to then we don't have to."

"I'd like to, one day."

"I just-" his lip trembles. "I think I bought it because I wanted a better life for us. We both had messed up childhoods. I had a messed up early adult life in the military, did shit I didn't want to because I had to. This house is our chance to start over, to be new people."

Your eyes widen and he threads his fingers between yours on the hand you've been holding. "What about Anvil?"

"I can relocate. Or just...do something else. Anvil seemed like a great idea when I got out of the Marines. But now it's tethering me to my past." He brings your hand to his lips. "I want to be more than a dog of war. I want to be a normal guy with a wife and a kid or just a dog is fine too. I never pegged myself as one to want the white picket fence life but here we are."

You lay your hand on his cheek and he leans into it. "Three years. Give us three years together and if you still feel the same, and we're still together, we'll do it."

Billy leans in, bumping his nose with yours. "You drive a hard bargain."

"Learned from the best."

He smiles big, lips meeting yours for a quick kiss. "It's a deal. But I do still want to come here for vacations, long weekends and the like."

"Absolutely." You hold his face, his beard scratchy under your palms. "It'll be our private getaway."

"Mmhmm." He guides you up as he stands. "Now, time for the fun we actually came out here to indulge in."

You glance at the pool and he plucks at the sleeve of your tee. "It's our pool."

"Yes it is."

"It's very private." You giggle. "Not a neighbor for a few miles."

Billy lifts your shirt hem. "That's right."

You step back and pull your shirt off, pushing your pants down quickly. Billy quickly shucks his own and you both laugh at how ridiculous you look. You jump in and he follows suit.

"I've never skinny dipped before. It's so strange, like I shouldn't do it."

"It's freeing." Billy says, floating up to you and cradling your face. "Revel in it. Feel alive."

You press your lips to his. "I've felt alive since the day I met you."

"Me too." He presses your foreheads together. "Me too."

__________

end

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[elvish-sky]

Say That Again {Legolas x Reader}

A.N: Do I really like this fic? Yes, I do. Will I possibly be re-writing it and turning it into a multi-part? Yes, I will. Thank you so much to the two Anons who requested this- I kinda went a little off of your exact requests, so I hope that’s ok, but I was super inspired by them. I’m very proud of this, and I really hope you all like it!

Requested by Anons on Tumblr: Can I request a Legolas x reader fic where the reader is an archivist for the library in Mirkwood and Legolas begins to visit more often just to see the reader? Over the months, they get very close and eventually end up confessing/sharing a small kiss, and the reader whispers, “I love you.” afterward. Legolas, having not heard those words directed towards him in a long time, is breathless. then, shyly, he tells the reader to say it again😶

and

Hey! I love your writing, by the way. I know you probably get a lot of these, so no pressure, but I was wondering if I could request a Legolas x reader fic? maybe where the reader is like an archivist/librarian for the woodland realm, and Legolas is doing research on the sickness in his homeland. together, they both find that Sauron has returned, and become really close over the time they’ve spent together. maybe the reader could join the fellowship with him? it’s just an idea based on a fic I read a while ago. you could do what you like with it, but I thought you could turn it into whatever you like. Thanks!

Word Count: 1,431

Pairing: Legolas x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, other than that I think that’s it. 

****

Say That Again

You sat curled up in your favorite chair in the back corner of the library and began to read, taking a break from your work. You were an archivist for the Library of the Woodland Realm, and you loved your job. Books were one of your favorite things in life, and so it was only natural for you to work in the library. Not only was it full of tomes of knowledge, but it was also absolutely stunning. Like everything else in the kingdom, it embodied nature, with smooth sweeping arches of stone and vines trailing along the walls. There were cuts in the stone to allow sunlight to brighten the dark, and the dust shone in the sunbeam on your table that was also illuminating your (h/c) hair, making it glow.

You looked up as someone plopped into the seat across from you. Legolas, Prince of the Woodland Realm, had started visiting the library rather suddenly several weeks ago, looking for answers about the blight and darkness that were spreading through the forest. Shocked at first about how much he cared about the forest, and then even more so at how interested he was in you, it had been rather awkward at first. He was the prince, and you were just another elf, of no importance. Despite your differences, you had become fast friends, although you had wished for more since you had first laid eyes on him, years ago. 

He slammed a thick book down onto the table. “I think this one may contain the answers!” You glanced at the title. Blights of Nature and Their Causes. As much as you did not want to get your hopes up, this one looked promising. 

“Where did you find this?” you flipped open the cover, admiring the pretty endpapers. Whoever had authored this book had clearly taken the time to make sure it was presentable.

“In the ‘Ancient Lore’ section, the top of the last shelf.” You could tell he had been in the far reaches of the library, he was absolutely covered in dust. You absentmindedly reached out to brush off his shoulder, making him blush, but you quickly withdrew your hand once you realized what you were doing. 

“What were you doing back there?” 

“I figured that we’ve had no luck looking in the places where it would make sense to find answers, so I looked in a place where it wouldn’t make sense.” 

You chuckled at his explanation. “That may be the least-well thought out reasoning I have ever heard.” 

“Nevertheless, this one might be it. I mean, it mentions blights in the title! What’s happening outside is definitely a blight.” 

You could understand his excitement. You had been looking for some sort of explanation for weeks, and the darkness was only spreading. You bent over the book, head bowed next to his as you poured over the pages together.

Sometime later, you awoke, hearing a gasp, to find your head resting on Legolas’ chest. You were somehow lying between his legs with the book resting on your stomach as he peered at it over your shoulder. “What is it?” you responded to his cry, blinking groggily. “I think I’ve found something.” Your eyes scanned the page he was on, flying across the words as you searched for what he meant. They came to a rest on the line A spreading of darkness in a forest, and an infestation of dark creatures, often herald the arrival of dark sorcery. 

“Dark sorcery?” you glanced up at him, your worry mirrored in his eyes looking back at you. 

“It makes sense,” you could feel his mind spinning, sense his brain questioning, searching for an answer. “But what sorcery is strong enough to corrupt the Woodland Realm?”

 “I do not know,” you replied. “But I fear for all our safety against one this powerful. We must learn who is doing this.” 

“I know of someone who may be able to answer our questions.” Legolas strode into the library the next morning with a purposeful air. You looked up from your work. He was wearing a tunic and leather boots, like always, and his hair loose except for those two small braids on either side of his head. He looked, to put it simply, absolutely wonderful. But then, when did he not?

You were sure that you didn’t look half as put together- you had spent the whole night after he left-which was admittedly not much, he had stayed pretty late- pouring over ancient manuscripts and old texts, trying to find mention of any sorcerers powerful enough to corrupt a whole forest. You had found nothing, and looked rather worse for wear.

“Who?” you were frantically attempting to rein in your unruly hair as you spoke.

“Gandalf the Grey. I sent him a bird last night and he replied, he has found something most troubling and thinks it may be related. I’m traveling to Rivendell today on unrelated business and he’ll be there, so I’ll ask him then.” 

Now you were busy brushing out your clothes and picking lint off of them. Legolas looked at you, eyes drawn from where they had been steadily focused on the wall behind you by your frantic movements. “Y/N, what are you doing?” He grabbed your hand. “I’m just… nothing.” You looked down in embarrassment, eyes firmly fixed on his boots. “You’re primping, aren’t you?” “Well, it’s not fair for you to just tramp in here looking perfect all the time!” You stepped back from him, realizing what you had just said. “Well, you- uh- you don’t look perfect, per se, more like… well put together!” 

Your self-conscious stammering had just made you feel worse. “Look, Legolas. I’m sorry. I very much did not mean to say that.” “It’s ok, Y/N. I do look pretty great.” He did a little twirl to show off just how great, and you felt the blood rush to your cheeks again. 

“Now, Y/N, you might want to go upstairs and grab some things for the road if we want to be out of the forest by midday.”

“Wait- I’m coming?”

“Of course, Y/N! You didn’t think that after all of the help you gave me you wouldn’t be included when we finally get our answer?” 

Sheepishly, you nodded.

“Ok, well, go pack. I’ll put these books back and be waiting ready to go.”

“Thank you, Legolas!” you exclaimed as you turned to the door. “Love you!” 

“What did you just say?” Legolas spoke, and you spun to see him, face pale with shock, leaning against your table. 

“I said thanks.” It had been a passing comment, and you didn’t remember saying anything else. Until you did. “Oh, shit!” you clapped a hand over your mouth and internally smacked yourself. If he did not dislike me for my oddities before, he’ll hate me now, you thought. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Legolas. It was just a slip of the tongue, it meant nothing…” you trailed off as he stepped closer to you.

He grabbed your chin in his hand, gazing into your eyes. “Say that again.” 

“It meant nothing?” you were so very confused. 

“No, Y/N. The other thing.” He looked mildly exasperated with you now but was still gazing at you with that peculiar expression on his face.

“I love you?” you stammered, wondering if that was, in fact, the right thing to say. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

With this, his hand on your chin guided your lips to press against his. Finally, you thought as you melted into the kiss, surrendering yourself to him. You had wanted this for so long, and now it was finally happening. Your hands were tangled in his hair like you’d wanted them to be ever since you’d first met him. One of his was supporting your neck, and the other was wrapped around your back, pulling you closer into him.

Panting, you broke away. “I should go pack. We want to be on the road soon.” He nodded, seeming to come back to reality. “I’ll be waiting here when your ready, melleth nin.” He said the words to your retreating back, and as you heard them you smiled. Spinning around again, you strode back to him and grabbed his shirt to pull his lips down to yours. “We can wait ten more minutes, right?” “Of course.” He kissed you again, and you lost yourself in him, his arms wrapped around you, holding on to each other as you would be for the rest of your lives. 

Everything tag 💖: @entishramblings @boyruins @itgetsatadhazy @anjhope1

Legolas tag: @sheriffgerard

#lord of the rings #jrr tolkien #the hobbit #legolas #legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas x y/n #legolas fanfic #legolas imagines #legolas imagine #legolas one shot #legolas fic #legolas thranduilion #legolas greenleaf #woodland realm #mirkwood #legolas fanfiction #lotr fanfiction #the hobbit fanfic #the hobbit fanfiction #maiawrites

[camslightstories]

Just because

Baby Danvers. Alex Danvers x reader, Kara Danvers x reader.

Notes: Hello!!! I’m so sorry, I could update before I wanted to make it as good as I could. I hope you guys like it! I would be uploading a few requests and parts this week, so be prepared for that i would call it a marathon if you could.

I will be so glad and honor to read your comments, requests, feedback, suggestions and more. Thank you so much for reading! Have a great day!

Request: Anonymous - “Can you do a Baby Danvers, where she becomes a vigilante and she fights alongside her sisters and the rest of Team Supergirl, Alex is a vigilante too. Then, after their last fight they have a sister's night” 

Taglist: @captain-josslett​ @aznblossom​ @multi-images

The mid-afternoon in National City was cold and unsettled on the day after Valentine’s day. Couples walked down the main streets of the city with smiles on their faces. While vigilantes and superheroes rounded the city.

Valentine's day has been as boring as always. Unlucky for you all of your relationships happened during the rest of the year and with that, you had never been with anyone during the holiday.

Last night, you had the same great company you had every year since Kara arrived to earth. The two of you stuffed your face with candy, pastries, pizza, and potstickers as you watched rom-com movies and sang to Taylor Swift. It could be called a sister's night but since Alex actually had a girlfriend and had things to do you guys didn't.

The day after valentine's, it would take the two of you a lot to get up. A day full of stomach aches for you while Kara was exhausted but perfectly fine.

Bank robberies, kidnappings, fires, and rogue aliens had been occupying all of your’s and your sisters' day. Snow covers your black boots as you come down off the motorcycle, seeing both of your sisters in a fully engaged fight with the white martian.

Moving your glance to find any civilians in danger, you find three kids under a truck trying to shield themselves from the fight. You ran to them, from the side of the road, as another white martian arrived at the scene. You kneeled under the truck, putting one of your hands out to help a little girl, who was clinging to her teddy bear shivering before urgently speaking. “Come on, little ones. Let's get you out all out of here”

The little girls and the boy started to crawl out of the car when you heard the scream of an older woman. Looking at your side, the white martian infrared was being thrown by supergirl to the other side of the street, your side of the street.

Quickly touching your watch a force shield protected the car when the white martian tried to land on it. Your head snapped immediately when you heard the strong voice of Supergirl. “I think that's enough for both of you!”

“Okay, come on. Let's get you to your parents” You said as the force field came down and both Alex and Kara were arresting both of the rogue aliens. The kids standing shivering as you spoke.

You walked to the worried parents giving them a small smile when the kids ran into their arms. It reminded you of when you were growing up, and after each game, or show you would run into your parents and your sisters' arms with a warm smile.

“You gotta be kidding me!” You exclaim, when one of the white Martians breaks the cuffs and throws your Kryptonian sister to a building. While Alex gave a tranquilizer to the other one.

You ran up to the alien and hit him with one of the laser guns Brainy had made for the tower. When the alien glared at you, you grabbed the bombs of light and smoke and threw one in his face before throwing a white cube to him, shrinking him.

You laughed when you saw Kara groaning as she touched her head, and Alex was infuriated because the now unconscious white martian had hit her in the face.

Both of their heads snapped to you, in their way to scold you since you aren't supposed to laugh in the job only to be stopped by the voice of J’onn in the comms. “We got a bar fight in M’gann’s, can you guys take that?”

“With pleasure papa bear,” You said as you winked to your sisters while getting into the motorcycle. Kara and Alex shaking their heads with a smile before you left.

------

You entered the bar, this time without a mask covering your face and your casual clothes.  The smell of beer and tobacco immediately hit you as you did. The low blimming-colored lights overwhelmed your sight as you entered. Two mixed groups of men, aliens, and humans, with their chest puffing out and glares on their faces. You walked closer when one of the humans threw the punch at another guy.

The moment you intervene in the fight by grabbing one of the guy’s fists. The other 4 looked at you as if you had three heads before laughing. You rolled your eyes before interfering. “Take it outside, or don't take anywhere”

“And who the hell are you to tell us, what to do?” The guys resisting taking his fist from your hand said, before you

“As my sister once said, I can be a real puppy or your worst nightmare in less than two seconds.” You grinned sarcastically before letting go and pointing to the door.

The tall guy groaned as he saw the red and purple in his hand. Immediately launching his other fist to your face, only for you to dodge it before exclaiming. “Didn't learn any morals as a kid?”

The brunette guy just kept trying to hit you, only landing two hits one in your chest and the other in your stomach. You kicked his leg, making him fall to the floor, and grabbed both of his hands, twisting one of them, not enough to break it but enough for it to hurt.

The two groups stood silent as you made the tall guy fall to his knees begging for you to stop. Each one of them looked scared enough as you made the tall muscled guy fall to his knees groaning in pain.

“We don't grab, hit, or even touch anyone, sweetheart” You stoop close, pressing with more force into your arm. Unknowing the two figures standing behind you, one with a frown and the other with a proud smile as you spoke.

You grinned sarcastically when you heard your blonde sister call your name. Making you step away with the classic Danvers smile, walking up to your sister giving Alex a high five, as Kara looked at both of you rolling her eyes “Y/N”

“Now, why don't you get out of here, before I show you out” You quickly adjusted your oversize jean jacket, before speaking. Changing your whole dementor from bad cop to good baby cop.

The two groups of guys left in a hurry without further to say or do. The moment the guys were out of the room, you felt a hand hit you on the back of your head. Scoffing, you turned around to find Alex with a proud slight smile, and Kara with a scolding face on.

You didn't need to ask who was the one to hit your head, you already knew. Without any hesitation, you clenched your hand and fit your oldest sister in the shoulder making the blonde reporter huff in disagreement when you and Alex started to share punches.

Your blonde sister just claims before walking away. You and Alex look at each other before running after her, because of the threat. Not without giving each other slight punches and pushes in the way “If you guys don't stop and meet me at the Tower, I'm getting all of the potstickers tonight”

----

You walk inside of J’onn’s office to see the place as quiet as usual, putting your hand in the criminal justice book, making the blinds close and the Tower’s door open.

Kara and Alex were standing right next to J’onn or as you call him, papa bear or space dad. Nia and Lena were on the side of a medical table as Lena made adjustments to Dreamers suit and Brainy was invested in a slang book you had given him for New Year’s.

You made your presence known as you put a big take-out bag on the table as you claimed. The smell of Chinese food evaded the air. “Thought, you guys would need a little fuel if we are working tonight”

“Thank you, Y/N,”  J’onn said with a smile as you gave him a side hug.

“You are very welcome, space dad” You res[onded as the two of you pulled away, to see both of your sisters with challenging looks.

Your blonde sister said as she crossed her arms over the chest and looked at you with a serious expression. “Did you really have to embarrass the poor guy? He was trembling”

“I didn't have to, but I wanted to. He was the proper description of a frat boy” You claimed, shrugging your shoulders as you walked closer to them with a satisfied smirk on your face.

“You dated one-” Alex started giving you a look of challenge.

You responded as you held your hands up, making Alex laugh. “Yeah, before having my incredible awakening of good dating taste”

“Next time just keep it a 3” Kara said to you before cleaning her glass with her shirt as she gave you a known look of protection.

“Nixt timi jist kiip it a 3” You murmured, making your blonde older sister glare daggers at you. Alex shocked her head at both of your tactics and grabbed you by the hood of your hoodie, as Kara took her tongue out to you and you did the same.

“We are going to go before Kara and Y/N get hangry. Call if there is an emergency” She exclaimed before letting you go, as the three of you walked out of the office with your civilians' clothes.

------

The three of you were sitting in Kara’s apartment, bags and boxes of takeout surrounding you guys, as you ate potstickers, pizza, wings, and ice cream. Laughs and giggles filled the ears in the room. The smell of fast greasy, and sweet food evaded your noses.

Kara at your right side and Alex in front of you. The three of you comfortably sharing on sisters' night. With comfortable and baggy close you snuggle closer to the multitude of pillows behind you as Alex debated what had happened not long ago.“I can't believe he didn't say anything to you! If that were us, he would have our heads for good”

“I’m baby Danvers, Al. Nobody can say no to me” You said as you grabbed another slice of pepperoni pizza. A smug smile on your face as you did.

“You little shit-” Alex started before going to tickle you, only to be stopped by the sound of Kara’s question.

“Can we watch The Princess diaries?” Kara asked with a pout on her face. You jumped out of your seat agreeing with the blonde, as Alex sighed deeply and agreed abruptly faking it.

Kara and you knew better, she would enjoy it as much as the two of you. Sure, Y/F/M was your favorite movie but The Princess Diaries was a classic during your childhood even when Alex and Kara had left in a hurry to college, you kept watching it as a reminder of them.

Before the redhead could respond, Kara and you grabbed the M&M’s bag and the pillows and started to throw her the things as the two of you laughed, while your oldest sister tried to not get hit by the things you guys were throwing.

You guys didn't stop until the redhead admitted she had a special place in her heart for ‘The Princess Diaries’ saga. The three of you laughed before sitting to clean the things you had thrown. In a moment Kara speeded to the kitchen and came back with the s’mores she had prepared a few seconds before.

The chocolate dripping from the cookie and the perfectly smashed marshmallow, made your stomach grumble. You looked at Kara and Alex with a shy smile before speaking up with an idea. “How many of those do you think can fit in my mouth?”

“Five” Kara shot her head up before quickly responding.

As Alex did the same but questioning your actions. “Why?”

“Just because…” You started with a pouty face, looking like a kicked puppy at Alex.

“Two, before you start gagging” After grumbling and scolding you, she claimed to be rolling her eyes as she kept drinking from the wine cup.

You gave her a challenging look before diving in, the first one was the easiest. The third and fourth ones became a little complicated as your mouth lost the majority of space, the fifth one gave you chills as it entered your mouth. You looked up and smiled watching as Alex records you on her phone with a disapproving face but a small smile behind it.

After eating half of them and throwing up the other half, Kara hugged you tightly as she spun you around making you giggle as she did. The blonde tickled you into the couch where you fell and grabbed a pillow throwing it at her.

The three of you shared a small moment with smiles on your faces, warmness spread to your chest as the three of you shared a small ‘I love you’

Kara put the movie through and the three of you were snuggling together on her couch, still sharing the food you had ordered, and every once in a while a small joke during it.

Kara held you close to her chest as you started to fall asleep after the middle of the first movie. You heard the blonde and the redhead slightly talking as you fell into unconsciousness. Both of your sisters gave you a forehead kiss, before Kara pulled you up, taking you to her bed and covering you in the blankets.

Small smiles on their faces, when the two of them saw you hug the pillow at your left side just like you did when you were a kid. The blanket covering you completely, only leaving you outside your head. Your soft grumbles made them laugh before they looked at each other. Alex speaking up first “Y/N is always going to be our baby, Danvers”

“Yeap, always and forever” Kara responded nodding, hugging the redhead with a smile.

And they were right, you had always been and always would be their baby sibling. The three of you came in a package and it was never going to change. Neither their protectiveness of you and the annoyance they transmit to you every single day. But you were fine with that, there were pros and cons of being a family and for you, your family had always been the best one, and that was never going to change.

#supergirl imagine #alex danvers x reader #kara danvers x reader #baby danvers

[thisisapaige]

dean, sam, jack, and cas all meet up in heaven and have a holiday dinner and everyone is happy because TFW isn't happy enough

You're right! They aren't happy enough. If you follow me, I bet you won’t mind the Destiel. There’s a light bit of Saileen, too. Also, I decided to downplay the heaven angle a bit, so feel free to read it as an Everyone Lives AU. :) Word Count: 700. Have a prompt? My ask box is open.

"Alright. Weirdest hunt. Go." 

Yeah, Bobby was just trying to distract Dean from the fact that Bobby shaved but he'd be damned if it didn't work.

"That time I was a ghost," Jo said, reaching across the table for another helping of mashed potatoes. "Osiris? Really? Still can't believe that happened."

Dean handed Jo the gravy. "Wait. You remember that?"

Mouth full of potatoes, Jo mumbled a word that sounded like, "Yes."

"All of it," Kevin said. "Every single bit of it. The Word of God. The angels falling. And the frigging Leviathans. All of it. The guy called himself Dick."

Dean snorted. Yeah he did, didn't he?

Ellen stopped buttering her roll and stared at Sam. "Wait. Dick? Really?"

"Yeah," Sam said. "For real. We ended up killing him with a bloodied bone of a nun." 

Ash giggled from his corner. "He got boned."

Charlie high-fived Ash, giggling with him.

"I don't know," Bobby added, "I think the dragons were weirder."

Dean nearly spat out his wine. "Oh man, don't remind me."

"Dragons?" Rufus set down his fork. "Dragons. I come to this multi-faith non-denominational dinner that happens to fall on a certain holiday-- because I don't celebrate it, you see-- and you're telling me there are dragons."

"Not anymore," Cas said, nothing in front of him but a cup of coffee. "I suspect Dean killed the last one."

Dean tapped Cas on the shoulder. "I did?" At Cas's confirmation, Dean grinned. "Dude! I am the dragon slayer, bow down to me!"

The entire table groaned. 

Cas turned to Eileen, signing as he spoke, "Would you like to contribute to the 'weirdest hunt' conversation?"

Eileen put a finger to her lips, glanced at Sam sitting beside her and said, "Banshee. The last one. Because I met this long-haired weirdo and…" 

She trailed off, sharing one of those significant looks she had with Sam. It was adorable. It was also kind of gross. But, Dean didn't say anything because Sam endured over twelve years of those kinds of looks between Dean and Cas.

“Dodge City,” Jack said from his place at the head of the table once it quieted. 

“Dude. Dude!” Dean clapped his hands together. “I got to fight Dave freaking Mather.”

“It was only a ghoul who looked like Dave Mather,” Sam informed the group.

“Still man, so awesome.”

Jack nodded. “He really likes cowboys. He made Cas wear a cowboy hat.”

Jo snorted over her whiskey glass. “And you let him?”

Cas gave Dean one of those sweet, fond smiles that still made Dean's heart beat faster. “Yes. It was rather ridiculous. But I didn’t have my own set of boots.”

Dean nudged Cas with his foot under the table, cheeks heating. “Dude. Shut up.”

“I would not be opposed to you wearing them more often.” Cas calmly sipped his coffee-- the little shit-- while Dean squirmed in his seat. 

“Can you believe it?” Sam grumbled. “I thought it’d be finally over after you two finally got together but, no, you’re still gross.”

Dean was a mature, grown, adult hunter who defeated God, so he stuck his tongue out at Sam. Eileen snickered behind her hand when Sam returned the gesture. 

“Mom,” Dean said. “C’mon, defend me here.”

Mary hummed, pushing her empty plate away. “No.”

“Mom!”

Sam laughed. “She agrees with me!”

The rest of the table chimed in. All in the affirmative.

“Oh. Okay. I see how it is. It’s picking on Dean day.” Dean rested his head on Cas’s shoulder and gazed up at him. “What about you, sunshine? What’s your weirdest hunt?”

Instantly, Cas replied, “There was this one time I led an army of angels into Hell in order to raise the Righteous Man from perdition.”

He was so sincere. Every day-- every freaking day-- Dean was reminded about just how much his damn angel loved him. 

Dean raised his eyebrows. “You calling me a weirdo?”

“Yes,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s hand, “but you’re my weirdo.”

When Dean kissed Cas, the reaction from the table was a mix of groans and sighs. However, when Dean glanced at his family gathered all around, safe and happy, every single one of them was smiling. 

#spn #supernatual #destiel #deancas #destiel fic #destiel ficlet #spn fic #prompt fill #ficlet #dean winchester #castiel #team free will #fluff #light #saileen #if you look at this and go 'hm i bet i know who paige's favourite characters are' you'd be correct #writing paige #ask paige #anonymous

[thedumpsterqueen]

Standards of Performance

Here it is!!!!! First chapter of my first fic on my new AO3! This is a multi-chapter, slow burn work. Please let me know what you think, I welcome screaming and incoherent asks about our fave special agent in my inbox. Full text under the cut, or you can find it through the AO3 link below.

AO3 link

Summary:  You're the BAU's newest intern, desperate to prove yourself amongst an established team of much more experienced profilers. Agent Hotchner, the seemingly infallible team leader, sets strict expectations for your performance. He commands your respect without even trying, but is there something more to your relationship than a simple desire to impress your stony-faced boss?

Chapter: 1, Coffee Stains and Neckties

Words: 2388

Rating: Explicit, 18+

Pairings: Hotch x Reader, Hotch x You

Warnings: Not much for this chapter specifically, but let’s just assume general gore and murder stuff, explicit language, and sexual content are fair game form here on out.

Enjoy! I’ll try to update weekly, if not more often. I’ll let you know when I have a more defined schedule!

“Fucking SHIT!”

You cursed as you felt the (very, very) hot coffee soak your new skirt. Grabbing as many paper towels as you could with one hand, you tried to sop up the mess on the floor. The stain on your outfit? A shame, but nothing compared to marring the assuredly expensive cream color of the BAU’s breakroom carpet.

A low chuckle sounded off behind you, and you froze.

For the love of god, please don’t be…

“Morgan! Please tell me you have carpet cleaner, oh my god. I don’t even know how that happened.”

Morgan grinned, as he typically did, sauntering into the breakroom with his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, the janitor's got it later. I was looking for you, team meeting in five. You all good? You look a little - ” he paused, probably searching for a descriptor that wouldn’t sting too bad, “ - rushed.”

You stood up, sighing. He was right, after all. You had stayed up late last night poring over psychology textbooks and only just woken up in time to leave your apartment. As the BAU’s newest profiling intern - whatever the hell that actually meant - the pressure of performing to seasoned profilers’ standards manifested in spending practically all your free time buried in research. Hence why your hair was coated in unbelievable amounts of dry shampoo, you were wearing your unflatteringly oversized glasses instead of your usual contacts, and why your frantic attempt at pouring yourself a cup of coffee when you got into work had resulted in the giant wet spot currently soaking your skirt.

At least the skirt was black.

“You’re right. Late night,” you said, rolling your eyes at Morgan’s suggestive eyebrow waggle.

“Not like that, I wish. Just trying to catch up. Don’t really want to repeat last week’s disaster,” you mumbled, referring to the first time you actually got to question a suspect, which had ended up with a wad of saliva hawked in your face. It was only your third week in the position, but damn, if that hadn’t let the wind out of your sails a bit.

“Hey, what did I tell you then?” Morgan asked, as you walked out of the breakroom together. “You’re not a true profiler until you get assaulted by a serial killer!”

“I’m not a true profiler until I finish the year long training program,” you pointed out, “so I think I could do without the spit in the meantime.”

Morgan laughed, opening the door of the team’s briefing room for you. “Well if we’d known you were gonna be so picky, we might have gone with someone else.”

“Who’s picky?” asked Emily, looking up from her seat.

While Morgan laughed and launched into a dramatic retelling of the event as if the entire team hadn’t already fucking seen it in real time, you took your seat at the table. Reid nodded in acknowledgment, and you returned it with a small smile. Damn if he wasn’t handsome, and ridiculously smart to boot, but you were pretty sure your chances with him withered and died when you asked him what he was doing after work last Friday and he answered with, “Reading.” Point taken.

Hotch swiveled in his chair to face the table and you suddenly became acutely aware of how much of a mess you probably looked. It’s not that you cared about his opinion regarding your general appearance beyond the basic standard of professional attire, but his always-intense gaze and stony expression had a way of making you second guess even your most confidently held opinions.

“Sit,” he said, his voice cutting through the rest of the team’s animated chatter.

It would have been hard not to notice how quickly they obliged, not out of fear, but rather a respect and deference so deeply ingrained that it almost gave you goosebumps. You’d never thought of yourself as a follower, per say, but if Hotch was what a leader looked like, you certainly didn’t fit into that category either.

He scanned the table, stopping on you. “New glasses?” he asked, with a single, slightly raised eyebrow.

“I, um, not really, just didn’t have time to put my contacts in,” you stammered.

“Hm,” Hotch said, “They look nice.”

Your cheeks suddenly felt hot, and you thanked him quickly, looking down at your shoes to conceal the pink that was probably spreading across your face. Hotch had a way of speaking that made everything he said sound like the absolute truth, which was probably why such an innocuous little compliment had disarmed you so much.

Still though, jesus christ. Get it the fuck together. You’re not Reid; you’re not smart enough to be this awkward.

Hotch, blessedly ignoring how painful you just made that interaction, addressed the team while JJ passed out files. “We have a new case. Three bodies, all found completely drained of blood in various woods, off hiking trails. Cause of death appears to be blood loss from severed carotid arteries, meaning they were likely strung up and drained before being moved to where they were discovered.”

Reid spoke up first. “Erm, what exactly do you mean by various woods?”

“That’s the unusual thing,” Hotch said, pulling up a map of the southwestern United States on the screen behind him. "Each body was found in a different state, one here, one here, and one here,” pointing to spots in California, Arizona, and Nevada. “However, local police discovered the bodies within hours of each other due to anonymous tip offs, and medical examiners estimate approximately the same time of death for all three.”

Morgan whistled lowly. “So what you’re saying is, this guy kills three victims around the same time and takes a road trip to hide their bodies in places he knows won't be discovered until he calls in.”

“That’s how it appears, yes,” Hotch confirmed.

Rossi shook his head, twirling a pen that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe. “So, how are we splitting this up?”

You whipped your head in his direction. Splitting up? Of course, you should have known it’d only make sense considering the ground to be covered, but your quick mental calculations told you that there were six of them, evenly split into three groups of two, and one odd man out, both in skill and number - you.

“So, who’s getting stuck with me?” you asked, trying to beat everyone to the punch. Not that any of them would voice it, but if you couldn’t project confidence, you figured self-awareness would do.

When you entered the internship as a recent college grad around a month ago, you knew you’d be in way over your head. Everyone else on the team was a seasoned expert, and you were a 20-something with a degree in psychology who somehow managed to charm her way through the interviews of the BAU’s flagship internship program. It’s not that you weren’t smart, you were, of course, but comparatively? You were pretty sure this was shaping up to be a glorified babysitting program, and you were the baby.

“Oh, hush,” JJ said, smiling and shaking her head. You smiled back. JJ had gone out of her way to make you feel welcome, which you were unspeakably grateful for. Between her and Morgan, you sometimes felt like maybe when this year was done, you could actually belong on this team.

Hotch interrupted your pity party. “Rossi, you’re with Reid in Phoenix. JJ and Emily, you’re going to Vegas. Morgan, you and I are going to San Diego.”

He turned to you. “You’re coming with me.”

Your stomach flipped at his words. You knew he had the most to teach you, and you could observe him coordinating the entire investigation from San Diego, but the idea of your performance being directly scrutinized by your boss in such a small group made you more nauseous than excited.

“Please be aware,” he continued, “Garcia is going to have to deal with three times the inquiries as normal. I recommend you only contact her if the information you’re searching for is genuinely too difficult to find yourself.” He gave Morgan a pointed look, to which Morgan raised his hands in mock surrender, grinning.

“We’ll drop teams off as we go,” Hotch said. “Wheels up in thirty.”

____________

As you settled into your seat on the plane, your mind spun, trying to review every piece of psychology knowledge you’d ever encountered. This wasn’t your first case, but it was the first one you got to travel for, which made it feel much more real.

The hours ticked by as the team reviewed the case. You contributed - not much, and nothing they wouldn’t have thought of without you - but it was something. Narcissist, craves attention and spotlight, physically confident enough to detain and murder three women at the same time. The method was throwing the team for a loop, however. Bleeding the victims out was clinical, relatively painless - uncharacteristic of the sexual injuries found on the corpses and the bravado with which the killer executed the rest of the crime.

When you, Hotch, and Morgan trudged off the plane in San Diego, you had been going at the potential profile for hours and even Morgan’s patience was wearing thin.

“Look, Hotch, let’s hold off on speculation until we see the crime scene in person, alright?”

Hotch nodded, and took that as a cue to head straight to the crime scene. You groaned internally - having barely showered this morning and spent half the day on a plane, your greasy hair and coffee-stained skirt would have greatly benefited from a stop at the hotel to freshen up.

It’s not like you have to look good to go stare at a patch of dirt where a dead body used to to be though, right?

____________

Turns out the aforementioned patch of dirt was actually a wooded grove off a hiking trail leading to a nude beach, much to Morgan’s delight. The site itself was uninteresting except for the way the body had been buried - covered up very securely, implying remorse, another characteristic that didn’t make sense with the initial profile.

This commonality between all three crime scenes was hotly debated on the video conference between the entire team when you got back to the hotel. Cross legged on the bed in Hotch’s hotel room, you listened to Reid and Rossi snipe back and forth on the laptop about what the burial method could mean for ten-plus minutes (“It’s clearly just a functional tool to properly hide the body, Reid.” “But you don’t know that, the significance of burial practices can tell us so much more beyond function, it can even tell us about his religious upbringing…”) before Hotch put a stop to it.

“What do you think?” Hotch asked you, turning and looking directly into your gaze. You were suddenly hyperware of the proximity between you two - sitting close enough on the edge of the bed that your thighs were almost touching. Morgan had abandoned his position on the other side of you to stretch out in the armchair by the window halfway through Rossi and Reid’s debate. Hotch’s eyes boring into yours from only a few feet away and the expectant silence of the other team members on the video call spiked your heart rate, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

“I… agree with Dr. Reid. I think it means something. The position of the hands, they were crossed across the chest, right? He didn’t need to do that. I don’t know if it means he was remorseful, but it was on purpose. I think.”

Hotch nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Good. Let's move forward with that theory.” He turned back to the laptop. “Let me know how interviews with the loved ones go tomorrow. Let’s find the connection between the victims. Call me if you need anything.” After shutting the laptop, he turned to you and Morgan. “Let’s call it for tonight. Meet me in the lobby at 7 tomorrow.”

Having been excused, you and Morgan made your way to your hotel rooms next to Hotch’s. Morgan wished you goodnight, and you unlocked your door and practically sprinted into your shower.

After you got out, you looked around the room, towel drying your hair. It was nice, much nicer than anywhere you’d ever stayed. The abstract art on the walls and the modern, clean white lines of the furniture were lit by the soft glow of the sunset filtering through the sliding glass doors leading to the balcony overlooking the ocean. You poured yourself a glass of wine from the minibar (a reimbursable travel expense, right?) and stepped onto the balcony, breathing in the ocean air.

“Nice night, hm?”

You jumped, nearly spilling your drink down your front for the second time in less than 24 hours. Hotch was sitting in a chair on his balcony to the left of yours, reclining with his hands behind his head. Despite wearing nothing but your thin hotel robe, you felt the urge to avert your eyes from him. His suit jacket was shucked, tie undone and hanging around his neck, and the top two buttons of his white, collared shirt were unbuttoned. You felt like you were seeing something you shouldn’t have, like the cold stoniness of his exterior had shifted just slightly and allowed you a glimpse underneath.

It’s just a couple buttons, calm down. You’re the one who’s barely clothed in front of your fucking boss.

“It is. Shame we can’t go to the beach,” you replied, keeping your eyes forward.

Oh my god, three women were murdered and I just complained to my boss about not being able to go to the beach.

“You’re welcome to get up early and go tomorrow; might be a bit cold,” Hotch replied. You could tell from his voice he was smiling.

You mumbled in affirmation, continuing to avoid glancing in his direction. “Well, I just wanted to see the view, um, I’m gonna get to bed. Goodnight, Agent Hotchner!” You ducked back into your room, and you could have sworn you heard him chuckle before you slid the door shut.

After getting ready, beating yourself up mentally for your complete social incompetence, and tucking in under the plush, white duvet, you drifted off to sleep.

#hotch x reader #hotch x you #aaron hotchner #hotch smut #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner x reader #hotchner fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds smut #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds headcanons #slow burn #slow building romance #spencer reid #mgg #emily prentiss #jj #rossi #hotch headcanon #fanfiction #writing #criminal minds imagine #dom!hotch #sub!reader #dom and sub #also on ao3 #thomas gibson

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Stab Me In The Front Part 2: Knives Out, Bitch.

Intro: Katie heads out to speak to Harlan, and encounters Ransom for the second time in as many days. It ends about as well as the first time…

Warnings: Bad language. SMUT (NSWFW)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

A/N: I love these edits again. Well played, @angrybirdcr​

Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie groaned and fluffed up her hair in front of the floor length mirror. She’d chosen a simple long sleeved, turtle-necked grey woollen jersey dress teamed with a black belt, black tights and knee high tan boots wanting to appear smart yet casual for the setting at Harlan’s mansion. But for once it wasn’t her outfit or appearance that was causing her anguish.

“Have you decided if you’re gonna mention the whole Ransom thing?” Steve asked as he wandered back into the bedroom munching on another piece of toast from the tray of breakfast items they’d had delivered earlier.

Katie snorted and locked yes with him in the mirror. “Oh yeah, can you imagine? Mr Thrombey, your grandson is an asshole. In fact, he isn’t just an asshole he’s the asshole, he’s America’s asshole…”

Steve chuckled as he dropped onto the bed “You might not have a choice if he’s already told him what went down.”

“You mean how you threw him over the bar?” She raised an eyebrow as she leaned forward to check her make up. Steve dropped his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry but, well I’m not having anyone speak to you or about you like that.”

“Well, I think we both know your alpha male display turned me on just a little.” Katie smirked at him, and he grinned as he recalled how things had taken a very steamy turn when they’d gotten back to their room before he took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, I really hope I haven’t screwed anything up.”

“If Harlan had heard and was going to cancel he would have done it by now. I’ll just go and see what happens.” Katie turned round and stepped into the space between Steve’s legs and his hands gently gripped her hips.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you?”

“No, I’m okay.” She smiled, dropping a kiss to his mouth, her hands resting on his shoulders. “I’ll text you when I’m there and then when we’re done.”

Steve smiled, he was pleased she was feeling happy enough to take herself, this was a big step in her healing process.

Even if he knew he’d be on tenterhooks the whole time she was gone…

“Alright.” He nodded. “I’m gonna go exploring, see the sights.” “Captain America playing tourist.”She grinned and he chuckled slightly, his hands sliding down to gently squeeze her ass.

“When in Rome.” he shrugged, “Or this case Boston. By the way sweetheart, your ass looks great in this dress.” “What is it you say to me?” she laughed, her hands sliding round to remove his from her rear, her fingers lacing into his “It’s all yours, baby.” “Damned right.” He practically growled as she turned and headed into the sitting room area of their suite. Steve followed her, leaning on the doorframe and simply watching as she shrugged on her pea jacket that was resting over the back of the sofa. She picked up her laptop, checked her bag and wrapped a scarf around her neck.

“Walk you down to the car?” Steve asked, and she turned to face him smiling.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

****

The drive out to the Thrombey mansion was actually very pleasant. Katie enjoyed the scenery as she drove and soon enough was pulling up the large, tree lined drive and came to a halt.  She stepped out, grabbed her bag and took in the mansion in front of her, giving a low whistle. It appealed to her love of all things old fashioned and gothic. Old and red brick, surrounded by scenery and stone figurines it was exactly the kind of home one would expect a Crime author to own.

She text Steve to say she had arrived and was safe and as she made her way towards the door, two large German Shepherd dogs bounded towards her. She paused for a second, allowing them to sniff at her, their tails wagging and she bent down, scratching one behind the ears.

“Oh aren’t you handsome boys!” she grinned, as she continued to pet them.

“Excellent judges of character, too.” a female voice said. Katie looked up to see a dark haired woman stood on the steps by the front door.

“They’re gorgeous.” Katie beamed, straightening up. “I’d love a dog but, well, we don’t really have time for one.” “I can imagine your line of work is a little hectic.” the lady smiled as Katie approached “I’m Fran, Mr Thrombey’s house keeper.”

“It’s nice to meet you Fran, I’m Katie.”

Fran smiled and stepped back to allow Katie to step through the large, wooden doors which opened into a huge hallway, which was grandly decorated just like something straight out of one of Harlan’s books. Katie looked around, taking it all in, before Fran spoke to her again.

“Mr Thrombey is finishing off a call. Can I offer you a drink whilst you’re waiting?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a coffee.” Katie nodded, removing her scarf.  Fran took it from her, along with her coat and hung them up on a stand by the door before she gestured for Katie to follow her. They walked down a hallway which was lined with dark, panelled wood that opened up into a large, kitchen diner.

“How do you take it, Mrs Rogers?”

But before Katie could respond, the dogs outside began once more to bark, only this time Katie could tell they were agitated. Fran gave an audible sigh, and the source of her frustration was evident as the back door blustered open.

“Oh shut the fuck up!” a familiar drawl was yelling back over the grounds and Katie felt herself stiffen slightly. Ransom barrelled into the kitchen from the mud room, his open tan coat flapping behind him. There was a multi-coloured silk scarf hanging around his neck and he was wearing a blue sweater which was slightly frayed on the hem, a far contrast from the sharp suit he had been dressed in last night. He cast his eyes around and stopped dead, a snarl playing on his face.

“You?”

There was a pause and Katie sighed, summonsing every single bit of professionalism “Good morning Mr Drysdale.”

Ransom snorted “Mr Drysdale now, that’s not what you were calling me last night was it? I was a self-entitled dick, wasn’t I?”

Fran gave a snort which she hastily turned into a cough and Ransom shot her a glare.

“Well in my defence you did call me a hooker.” Katie shrugged, taking attention off the housekeeper.

There was a moment of silence before Ransom broke the stare he was giving her and turned back to Fran.

“You got my cookies, Franny?”

“In the usual cupboard Hugh.”

“Hugh?” Katie frowned. “I thought your name was Ransom.” “It is.” Ransom, or Hugh said as he made his way to a cupboard and pulling out a packet of Lotus Biscoff. He leaned against the counter and popped one in his mouth, eyeing Katie up and down. “Only the help call me Hugh.”

Katie couldn’t help the disdain that crept across her face at his tone. He really was an insufferable jerk.

“Really? Hugh to the help and Ransom to others?” She looked at him, “What do the dogs call you?”

“I dunno, go ask them. I mean you do speak dog don’t you, being one?”

“Wow did you think of that all by yourself?” Katie rolled her eyes at his childishness “Guess your time at Harvard really served you well.”

“How did you know I went to Harvard?” He frowned.

“Isn’t’ that where all the spoilt little, trust fund babies go?” She smiled at him. Truth be told she’d had FRIDAY look him up the previous night but she wasn’t about to admit that.

“Yeah and where was your brilliant education then?” He shoved another cookie in his mouth.

“Oxbridge.” She shot back. Ransom paused, arching an eyebrow.

“What are you doing here anyway?”  He said after a moment, clearly unable to think of anything smart to say about her choice of University.

“Mrs Rogers here is the Owner and CEO of Stark Independent Publishers and they’re going to be publishing The Colour of Revenge.” A deep voice said from the doorway. Katie turned to see Harlan walking into the kitchen, his eyes fixed on his grandson. “And whilst she is in this house on my invitation she is a guest, so you could do well to remember your manners.” Ransom looked at him, blinked, then threw his head back in a huge roar of laughter. “Wait. You have your own company, and you’re using another to publish your next book?”

“Yes Ransom, that’s correct.”

“Oh that…that is fucking priceless!” Ransom continued to laugh “I can’t wait for you to tell Walt.”

Now Katie was utterly confused. There was clearly some fucked-up family dynamic at play, and she was even more puzzled when Ransom stepped towards her, offering her a cookie from the packet.

“You poisoned them?” Katie looked at him, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m eating them ain’t I?”

“Fair point.” She shrugged taking one “Thanks.” “You’re welcome, Sweetheart. Anyone that helps piss off my shit head family can share my food.” He said, and with that he blustered out in as dramatic a fashion as he’d entered, his laughter following him down the hall.

“You should be honoured.” Harlan turned to face Katie “He doesn’t normally give those out, they’re his favourites.”

“Yeah, without meaning to speak out of turn he doesn’t strike me as the type to share.”

Harlan chuckled and crossed the room, holding out his hand. Katie shook it, smiling. “It’s a pleasure to meet you finally Mrs Rogers.”

“And you too Mr Thrombey.”

“I told you on the phone, please, call me Harlan.”

“As long as you call me Katie.” she shot back and he nodded.

“Sure I can manage that, Fran, dear, we’ll take the drinks in my study.”

“Of course Mr Thrombey, I’ll bring them through.”

Katie followed Harlan out of the kitchen.

“I’m sorry about my grandson.” he looked back at her

“Don’t be. We err, we actually met last night. He was in my hotel bar…”

“Let me guess, you didn’t particularly get on then either.” “There were a few words traded, yes.” Katie nodded, before she sighed, deciding to be honest.  “Actually, there were more than words traded. Steve, my husband, kinda got in a bit of an altercation with him. I was a little worried you wouldn’t want to do business if you had heard about it.”

Harlan chuckled as he led her down the corridor and to the right. “If I refused to do business with everyone Ransom had pissed off I’d have a problem. But that aside, he hadn’t mentioned it. Although, I haven’t seen him since he stormed out of here yesterday after a disagreement with his mother and his cousin. He likes to flounce does Ransom, he has a flair for the dramatic. If you don’t mind me asking what did he say to you?” Katie explained as they walked, Harlan letting out a groan.

“On his behalf, I apologise.” He shook his head, opening a door and allowing her to step into the large study.

“It’s fine, I gave as good as I got.” She smiled and Harlan laughed.

“I don’t doubt that for a second Mrs Rogers” He closed the door. “Now, please take a seat and we can talk business.”

**** An hour later Katie was feeling a lot more at ease. Harlan was an easy man to talk to. He was firm, but fair, and as such had approved the cover designs, and accepted all but 6 of the amendments the Editing team had proposed to this manuscript. As a result, she was feeling a lot more confident about the pitch regarding her Charity idea, knowing full well that he wouldn’t simply dismiss the idea was spurring her on.

“So as we agreed Mr Thrombey.” Katie said, sliding the first piece of paper over to him “Your royalties on the print edition will be 9% of the cover price for the first 5,000 copies, 10% on the next 5,000 and 12% thereafter…and for the E-book edition 25% of the sales revenue. You can see from our forecasts what we anticipate this will bring you.”

Harlan took the paper and gave it a quick glance over before nodding “How have you come up with the forecast sales numbers?”

“We based it on your last 3 novels, plus the level of pre-orders we have had. And, without wanting to sound too big headed, SIP attracts a lot of attention given who…” she felt herself blush slightly “Who I am so we tend to make a lot of sales on the back of that, which to be fair in this case isn’t a bad thing.” “In this case?” Harlan frowned at her.

“Yes, errr.” She swallowed again, shifting slightly “SIP is donating 100% of its revenue on your book to charity, although we haven’t made that public yet. I wanted to talk to you about it before we release anything to the press.”

“Charity?” 

“Yes, several to be exact. We’re going to split it across organisations that help victims of sexual abuse, rape and other violent sexually motivated crimes.”

“That’s very commendable.” Harlan leaned back in his chair “And I take it that’s because of the subject matter?” “That’s one reason.” She nodded, hesitantly.

“And the other?” The old man pressed, his hands steeping together in front of his chin as his elbows rested on the large mahogany desk.

Katie hesitated, before she bit her lip and took a deep breath as she looked at the man who was studying her intently. For some reason, she felt she could trust him so decided to tell him the whole story. “It’s fairly well known that last year I was missing for a number of weeks but the circumstances were never revealed. In reality, Harlan, I was, erm, held captive.” She paused to clear her throat “I was taken by an organisation who thought by torturing me I’d reveal certain information to them, information I didn’t actually have. When the usual methods of interrogation failed, well, I’m sure you don’t need me to fill in the gaps.”

Harlan’s face softened and he let out a sigh. “I’m sorry to hear that, I truly am.” “So yeah, there’s an element of it being personal in there.” She swallowed. “I didn’t know myself that half of these support charities existed until a year ago and to me it’s more about the awareness, that people who find themselves in the position I did understand that there are people out there to help.”

Harlan nodded “How do you intend on using the book to do that?” “Well, with your permission, ”Katie said, turning her laptop round to face him, to show him the various mock ups she had produced, “I’d like to include a foreword in your book, a little bit about why we have chosen to do what we are doing, so that everyone who buys a copy sees it. You have a huge established audience Harlan, and that kind of publicity is just something that no amount of money can buy. I’d also like to include a tagline about how the proceeds will be helping people in the advertising material and on the front cover.” “Will you be writing the foreword?” Harlan looked at her.

Katie nodded. “You’ll of course be sent a copy before it is finalised to ensure you’re happy with it.”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.” Harlan smiled “I’m happy to be part of it. And in light of what you’ve said, I’d also be happy to wave my royalties and also donate those to the cause.”

“Oh, no, that’s not…” Katie began to protest but Harlan shut her down.

“I don’t need the money.” he shook his head “All I ask is that you make it work. You clearly have a passion about this Katie, and for good reason. Frankly I’m blown away by the courage you’ve displayed here today by telling me this. There are a lot of people out there in privileged positions that could take a leaf out of your book my dear.”

Katie felt her eyes misting over and she blinked, looking away. Harlan passed her the box of tissues and she took one with a weak laugh.

“Sorry.” she smiled “I’ve just, well, no one knows what happened bar my inner circle so to speak.”

“It won’t go any further.” Harlan looked at her “I can assure you of that” Katie smiled, before she looked at the man, and her smile slid into a cheeky smirk. “Seeing as I’ve been honest with you, can you be honest with me?”

“Of course.”

“You have your own Publishing company, they’ve done all of your books for the last 25 years. Why have you chosen SIP for this one?”

Harlan sat back, sighing before he gave her a small smile “Because for the last 25 years my son has done nothing but ride on my tails. He likes to give Ransom a lot of stick for simply living off my money but he is no better. You see, I set the publishers up so he could make something of it, I didn’t expect him to simply sit there and use my books alone. Thought it was time he had a wake-up call.”

Katie gave a grin “I see now why Ransom was so amused.”

“Yeah, Walt won’t be best pleased…” Harlan said, “He’ll be even less so when he realises I’m giving my royalties away on this completely. Now, please permit me one last question before we finish.” “Sure.” “You’re the owner and CEO of SIP.” She nodded.

“Do you always visit potential authors or is this visit purely down to the fact this book means something personal to you?”

“There is that, and, well, honestly? I’m just a huge fan of your work.” she grinned “Owning and running your own business should have some self-indulgent perks after all, right?”

They spent 15 minutes or so tying up the final bits and pieces before Harlan walked her to the door, helping her into her coat.

“It’s been a pleasure.” He smiled, shaking her hand again.

“Same here.” she grinned “And thank you again. We’ll be in touch when we’re ready to go to press. It shouldn’t be too long. I’m hoping to hold the big launch early in November. Maybe hold some charity event, I’ll let you know.” “Of course, anything I can do to help…”

There was a pause as a loud engine sounded and they both turned to see a vintage silver BMW skid to a halt on the driveway driven by Ransom. He climbed out, his long legs stretching in front of him as he glanced over to the pair of them.

“I see he’s been out for his usual lunch appointment.” Harlan remarked. “Such a hard life.”

Katie laughed and with that she headed down the steps towards her car.

“Leaving so soon?” Ransom asked as she passed him.

“Work is done for the day so yeah,” she shrugged

“If you have all that money, why do you bother?” 

Katie stopped and turned to him. “Because I’ve never had it handed to me on a plate.” She replied, honestly “One thing my brother instilled into me was that you have to work for things in life. Yes, I’ve had opportunities that most people wouldn’t but I’m eternally grateful for those and do this to prove that.”

“And the Avenging?” He asked. “Humour me, I’m curious.”

“I like to help people. It is what it is.” She shrugged.

“Putting your life on the line to help people with no thanks.” He shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

“I wouldn’t expect you to.” she shook her head, “But, I just remind myself that for every one person that’s like you, there are a hundred other people who actually deserve it so…” “Eat shit.”  Ransom drawled, rolling his eyes.

“Fuck you.” Katie’s usual insult flew off her tongue easily, and she inwardly groaned knowing full well she’d given him an opening. And sure enough, the anticipated response came her way.

“If you’re offering.”

“Oh, believe me Mr Drysdale, I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last person on Earth.

“You wouldn’t be doing much sleeping.” he smirked, “And you’re forgetting something.”

“Oh pray, do enlighten me.” She said sarcastically. “You’re the one that mistook me for your husband, sweet cheeks. I’d say you must find something attractive about me.” “Don’t flatter yourself, you’re nothing like him.” she turned towards the car

“Oh, are we playing spot the difference?” Ransom chuckled and she gave a bark of a laugh and spun back to face him. “Your eyes are completely different, your jawline is nowhere near as square, your smile…well is it even a smile or are you suffering from trapped wind? I’m not sure and don’t even get me started on your hair.” She arched an eyebrow “Frankly my Stevie has more sexual appeal in his little finger than you have in your entire body and as for that lousy sweater you’re wearing…” “Ah, yes, you’re a sucker for spangly lycra…”

“It’s a mix of Tevlar and a patented material my brother developed actually, but that’s by the by.” Katie shrugged “When he fills it out as well as he does I can’t help but want to be a sucker if you get my drift.”

 “More than happy to help you out there darlin.” he winked. “I bet you’ve never kept a woman longer than a night have you?” Katie shook her head.

 “Sometimes they don’t even last the night.”

“Oh, I can believe that, I’d run too.” she nodded. “Why would anyone want a jumped up little trust fund baby like you when they could have a real man between their legs?”

Ransoms face instantly slid from the playful, teasing smirk into something slightly darker and much, much angrier.

“You jumped up little bitch.” He spat, his voice laced with venom as he moved closer to her. She held her ground, looking him up and down, simply raising an eyebrow as his voice grew in volume. “If I wanted you, I could have you. It’s that simple.” Katie felt her nostrils flare. After everything she’d just talked to his grandfather about, was this asshole seriously insinuating what she thought he was?

“You know what?” She stepped forward, glaring up at him.“That’s the problem with people like you. You think you can just take what you want without the consequences. Well I got news for you, Hugh, that isn’t how it works.”

“Oh get off your fucking high horse!” Ransom bit back, his voice loud as he shook his head “I’ve had enough of your sanctimonious I’m better than you bullshit.” “I am better than you. But then again, that’s not saying much as frankly I think you’re one of the most despicable people I’ve ever met, and trust me that’s saying something.”  She looked him up and down once more, giving her best contemptuous glare before she turned on her heel.

“Now you listen to me,” he said, grabbing at her arm. In a flash she had twisted out of his hold and swept his legs from under him, putting all her body weight behind the movement, spinning and throwing him straight over her shoulder in a move she had learnt years ago from Steve. With a hefty thud and a yell he hit the floor, landing on his back. She knelt on his chest, her knee digging into his sternum, heel of her palm pressed straight against his windpipe.

“When I said yesterday I’d taken down bigger men than you I meant it.” she glared at him “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you myself before Steve gets the chance.”

“Get..off..me…” he snarled, but she didn’t move, instead she pushed on his throat a little harder, causing him to gasp for air.

“They say the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree but in this case, well, you’re about as far removed from your granddad as you could get. How he ended up with such an appalling little shit like you as a grandson I’ll never know.”

With that she stood up, leaving him to take huge gasps of air as she turned to see the dogs careering down from the grassy banks surrounding the house, barking as they ran.

“Mother fucker!” she heard Ransom’s yelling as she picked up her bag her hands shaking slightly as she headed to her car. His yells were coming thick and fast as she walked, quickly. “Oh you son of a BITCH! You just pissed ON MY COAT!”

She turned to see Ransom aiming a kick at the dogs, missing them both completely. She couldn’t help but smirk at the sight of the man desperately trying to escape and get up off the floor. Something then caught her attention and she glanced up slightly to see Harlan was stood on the balcony of the house, a mug in his hand watching the scene play out. He raised the mug in her direction before taking a sip and strolling back in his house.

As she passed Ransom’s silver vintage BMW, which was parked by the Porsche SUV she had hired, she hesitated slightly before she reached down her boot and pulled out the small combat knife she had kept concealed there. With a quick flick of her wrist she sent it flying into the rear passenger’s side tyre of Ransom’s car.

“Knives out, bitch.” She grinned to herself before she unlocked her car, settled in the driver’s seat and pulled away.

****

“Baby, that’s amazing!” Steve said, looking at her across the table as she finished telling him all about her afternoon. She’d driven straight to the small Italian Steve had said he had found and they were enjoying an early dinner whilst Katie told him about her meeting. She’d been completely honest about everything, what she’d said, how she had felt…well, almost anyway. Ransom hadn’t cropped up in their discussions yet, thankfully.

“I know, it’s better than I could have hoped.” she smiled, chewing on her ravioli. “I mean, the amount of money and publicity it’s gonna generate is off the scale!”

“I’m proud of you.” he said gently. She beamed at his praise and took a sip of her wine. “I take it then the whole Ransom thing wasn’t an issue?”

Ah crap, there it was…

Something flickered across Katie’s face and Steve frowned. ”What?”

“He err, he was there.” She looked down at her food, pushing it around her plate a little “We had…words.”

“Words?” Steve pressed.

“Yeah, at first he was fine. Even gave me a cookie, long story.” She waved away his questioning glance “But er…well we had a bit of a heated discussion on the driveway as I was leaving. He grabbed my arm and…” “He did what?” Steve nearly exploded and the table next to them turned to look at him.

“Shhhh” She hissed “It was nothing, besides, I floored him with that nice little over shoulder drive you showed me. Then when he was down the dog pissed on his coat.”

Steve was torn between his desire to rage about the fact the man had dared to lay his fingers on her, and laughing at the image he had of Ransom’s coat being soaked in dog piss. Eventually the laughter won out as he gave a small chuckle and leaned back in his chair.

“Wish I’d seen that.”

“Oh and I left a knife in his tyre” she shrugged, taking another bite of her food. Steve’s eyebrow raised.

“A knife.”

“Yup.”

“You took a knife with you?”

“Down my boot.”

“You know, you scare me sometimes.” Steve arched his eyebrow, taking a drink of his beer.

“I scared him.” she laughed “You should have seen his face.” Steve changed the subject then, not wanting to discuss him anymore. Whilst he was still pissed about the asshole in general, he was beyond pleased to see that she wasn’t phased by it, in fact she seemed excited about the entire thing. The meeting had gone well, and that was the most important thing to him. That she’d gone in the first place, especially after being so frightened.

They talked about where Steve had been, the sights he’d taken in and he promised to show her a few of his sketches when they got back to the hotel room, except that kind of fell along the wayside as no sooner had they gotten into the room they were pawing at each other like a pair of hungry, horny school kids.

As a result, Steve was found himself led on his back on the bed, Katie’s lips trailing his skin, from his collar over to his neck. He let out a soft sigh and Katie grinned as she moved back to look at him. His eyes were dark, full of desire and he watched as her head moved down his body, her soft fingers pulling the waistband of his boxers down slightly as she kissed across the bottom of his stomach, just on the V of his abdomen, where the thin strip of hair that led from his belly button down to his groin lived. He was aroused, desperate to feel her mouth on him, but as she trailed her tongue across his skin, she got as low as she could without actually touching him there. He let out a groan, his hips bucking slightly and she stopped, glancing up at him.

“Want something, Soldier?” she smirked, repeating the words he had said to her the other morning and he looked down at her lidded eyes which were sparkling with mischief.

“You want me to beg?” he asked, his voice gravelly “Because I’m not above that.” She let out a grin and decided to take pity on him. As her hot mouth took him in he let out a hiss, his head falling back against the pillow. One hand fisted in the sheets besides him, the other settled in her hair, fingers tangling into her soft waves as her head moved. Her tongue swirled around his shaft, teeth grazing gently as she took him deeper, twirling her hand around the base of his cock.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” he keened and felt her smirking as she continued her ministrations. It was so good, it was almost torture, and every time his hips moved she stopped, giving him a warning look.

Fuck, he loved it when she took control like this.

Eventually, when he could feel his stomach starting to tighten he gently pulled on her hair. “Baby,” he groaned, “get up here. I’m gonna lose it if you keep doing that.”

With a grin she released him with a pop and crawled up his body, her breasts dragging against his naked skin before she straddled him, and lowered herself down, taking him in completely. Her head lolled back slightly as he bent his knees, allowing her to lean back against his thighs, hands resting on her hips as she began to move. With every roll she made, Steve was actively fighting his release, but it was becoming increasingly harder. His hand moved between her legs to stroke at her bud, and she let out a gasp, shuddering slightly.

“Don’t stop…” she cried, “Please, Stevie…”

His strokes became quicker, and with the hand that still grasped her hip he pulled her down onto him harder as he thrust upwards, driving into her as much as he could. He felt her shudder slightly before she gave a loud, broken moan as her orgasm swept her away, and he was right with her, his hips faltering as his eyes flickered shut, his entire body stiffening before he relaxed backwards and Katie felt forwards onto his chest. She gave a soft hum of satisfaction, her face burying into his neck as his fingers trailed up her spine gently.

“Okay?” He asked when he had finally caught his breath, she made a noise of affirmation unable to summon the power to speak at that point in time. Steve gave a chuckle and moved his head, nudging her face with his nose. She looked at him for a moment before she gave him a soft kiss.

“Stevie.” She hummed gently as he pulled away to look at her. “We left the restaurant without desert.”

He arched an eyebrow at her “Seriously, you’re thinking about food now?” “Yeah, I got a hankering for something sweet.” “I’m not sweet enough?” He pouted.

She laughed “Not unless you’re hiding a pecan pie somewhere…” “Room service?” 

She grinned and nodded, rolling off him. “Oh, and order a bottle of champagne.” “Pushing the boat out?” he said, shuffling onto his side so he could face her.

“When have I ever needed an excuse to drink fizz?” she looked at him.

“True.” he said, brushing her hair off her face before he leaned in for another lazy kiss.

“And then, when we’ve finished that I’ll let you draw me a bath.”

“Oh, you’ll let me draw you a bath?”

“Yup?”

“What’s in it for me?” “You can scrub my back.” She smirked, her hand sliding up his chest. “Oh well, when you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?” He rolled his eyes as she laughed.

Steve grinned back at her. Frankly, the idea of spending the entire evening locked in the hotel room with her, drinking champagne, bathing, no doubt a bit more fooling around was fucking heaven in his eyes. Giving her one last, soft peck on the lips he reached over for the phone to ring in their order.

**** “You’ve done WHAT?”

Ransom smirked as his mother screeched across the room her almost unintelligible ramblings being punctuated by yells and protests from Walt. His grandfather had just revealed to them all that not only was he using a different publishers for his next book, he was also donating his royalties to charity after discussions with the Stark bitch, or Rogers bitch as she was called now. Naturally Meg thought it was a great idea, but then she would. Ransom didn’t give a shit either way. He just found watching them all arguing like they were doing utterly hilarious.

“Cookie?” he asked, offering the packet across the coffee table.

“No I don’t want a fucking cookie, you asshole!” Walt glared at him.

“Wow” Ransom mouthed, smirking.

“Ransom, enough.” His mother shot and he looked at her.

“What did I do?” He laughed.

“You’re being deliberately obtuse!”

“I haven’t said a word.” He sniggered “And I don’t plan on doing either. It’s the old man’s money. If he wants to give it away, so be it. I am curious though.” He leaned forward and looked at his grandfather. “What did she say to convince you to part with it?” “It wasn’t what she said so much as what she did.” Harlan answered after a moment’s thought, not wanting to betray her trust “Her company is donating their profits from what she openly admitted would be their biggest earning book to date. Says a lot about her don’t you think?” Ransom cocked his head to one side and shrugged, as the arguing once more began.

With a snort he stood up “Well this has been emotional, we should do this again sometime.” he said, “Grandfather…”

Harlan waved him away, none of the others paying him a blind bit of attention. He grabbed his dog-piss ruined coat from the chair he’d thrown it against, making a beeline for Fran in the kitchen, ordering her to get it dry cleaned as soon as she could. He then headed out to his car, and stopped dead as he noticed the rear tyre was flat.

Cursing he bet to take a closer look, and noticed the knife that was expertly placed right in the middle of the tread at near the bottom and despite himself he gave a low chuckle, shaking his head.

“Well played Mrs Rogers, well played.”

**** Part 3

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #knives out #ransom drysdale #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

[sassybirdmanandhisangstywife]

Well would you look at that, I’ve crawled back onto this page with another chapter. At least this one’s longer, and in my opinion written better than it’s predecessors. That would be due to me writing my original series, the only reason this chapter took so long. But that’s not what you’re here for. You’re here for the fic

So enjoy Diaval’s crisis ;)

Chapter 5

I hate it when I’m right

Flying across the barren land of Percefrost, I scrambled to come up with a plan. Not that I had much to plan, as I was heading to the castle without any information, but I should at least have an idea of what to do if the usual happens. The usual being a phenomenal failure of whatever the original plan was, and having to resort to a hastily put together backup plan. I shook my head. How have Mistress and I survived for this long? I really haven’t the slightest idea, but I hoped we could continue to have such good luck. Otherwise it’s down to the backup plan. Right, that’s what I was doing. A backup plan, hm......

My tired wings nearly caused me to fall to the ground as I approached Stephan’s old castle. I haven’t been sent to spy on the humans since Aurora was barely older than a hatchling, and I’d forgotten how long the journey is. Especially when you’re quite an old raven. But I had to persevere, and eventually I made it to one of the castle roof’s many holes (it is so fun when it rains in here). This one was situated right over the throne room. I figured that if anything significant was happening, this would be the place where it went down. I flew (well, fell really, as I said it took an enormous amount of energy that I didn’t exactly have to even arrive here) into the roof’s crack. Once I was inside, I quickly landed on the nearest beam. Breathing heavily (NOT panting, once again I am not a bloody mutt), I took a minute to recharge before looking around the large room. What I saw shocked me far more than I could’ve imagined.

Mistress was in chains, not iron otherwise she would be dead already, limp and possibly unconscious. Various cuts and bruises lay all across her limp form, blood actively dripping down more than a few of them. Her horns were scraped, and her wings, ones that were just returned to her, were bloody and twisted, chunks of feathers ripped out all over them both. I can’t even imagine the kind of pain Mistress must be in, emotionally as well as physically. Mistress lay in front of Stephan’s throne. I would say old throne, but that isn’t quite accurate. The bastard was ALIVE. How the fuck does a puny human like him survive a multi-story fall? He may look worse for wear, that being an understatement, but still, it’s just inconsiderate. The king had a positively insane smile on his face, and was shaking from what I assumed to be some kind of twisted joy. He was towering over Mistress,and decided that this was the moment to kick her harshly in her core with an iron boot. Mistress screamed, a shriek of pure agony, and I had to tear myself away from the horrible sight. As I turned my head, I heard a scream of “NO!” echo across the castle. I knew that voice far too well. That sound came from Aurora. My little girl. What have they done with her? I knew that scream was a reaction to Mistress’s pain, but I still saw red. Anyone who dared even touch my daughter without her permission would be annihilated by my hand. At least if I had my way. But for now, I had to hope that Aurora’s bloodline would keep her safe from the worst of Stephan’s fury. Mistress however, was in a far more grave situation.

Stephan then spoke. Or rather, screamed with more volume than an injured human should possess.

“RELASE MY DAUGHTER’S MIND YOU WITCH”

Mistress looked up, and from my vantage point, I could see the bruises and cuts that littered her beautiful face. Choking on my shock, I grew queasy. Mistress was incredibly powerful, why couldn’t she defend herself from a few humans? Powerful humans with far too much iron albeit, but still, just humans. And they had Aurora as well!? Could this get any worse?

Mistress smiled up at Stephan, a tired smile, one full of pain, but more real than anything else I was seeing. She spoke softly, but with a firm purpose.

“I have done nothing to Aurora Stephan. Why would I? She is my daughter aft-“

Mistress was horribly interrupted by a harsh kick to the jaw by Stephan’s iron covered boot.

“SHE IS MY DAUGHTER! MINE, NOT YOURS, AND SHE ALWAYS WILL BE!”

Mistress gave a harsh, cold laugh, one that ended in a painful, bloody coughing fit.

“You gave up that privilege when you sent her away, all those years ago. Aurora grew up without you to guide her, so she turned to those who truly cared. Myself and D-“ she paused, and in that moment, her eyes widened. “......And the fairies.” She finished. I knew Mistress well enough to notice her mistake, but unfortunately, so did Stephan.

“YOU DID NOT MEAN TO SAY THAT!” Stephan screamed, his face turning redder than the dried blood on his face. “WHO ELSE HAS CORRUPTED HER MIND!?!? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE MALEFICENT?!??”

“I have merely raised Aurora to the best of my abilities, something you would have done if you truly wanted to be her father. But I know the truth. You only want that claim for the power it gives you, and so you can be the true corrupter, poisoning her innocent mind with your thoughts of evil. I won’t release Aurora, as I have nothing to release. If your broken mind refuses to understand and accept these truths, that problem does not fall to me to fix.”

Stephan whipped his body around, towards his magnificent throne, and grabbed it’s arms, harshly casting it aside in his fury. The throne crashed to the ground, shattering to bits with a deafening scream. Splinters dug themselves into Mistress’s pale skin, causing her to wince painfully.

“IF YOU REFUSE TO FREE MY DAUGHTER, I WILL FORCE YOUR MAGIC OUT OF HER. IN 9 DAYS TIME, I WILL KILL YOU IN FRONT OF THE ENTIRE KINGDOM, SO ALL CAN VEIW THE MIGHTY MALEFICENT’S FAILURE TO SURVIVE. YOU MAY ONLY PREVENT THIS BY RELEASING MY DAUGHTER FROM YOUR POISONING GRIP.”

Oh no. Oh, oh no.

Maleficent barked out another laugh.

“Do you actually expect me to believe that? I know you far too well to truly think my life will be spared. If you are to kill me, so be it. But you will leave my people alone.”

“NEVER! ALL OF THE MOORS SHALL FALL AT MY HAND!”

“That will never happen. The creature who will replace me is far too quick witted to be defeated by you.”

Stephan laughed, in such a way that his insanity shone through like the sun rising on a new day.

“But I have conquered you, the great Maleficent. Are you actually suggesting that you have a superior? You are the one who’s mind is lost if you say that truthfully.”

Mistress smiled softly, showing....happiness? In this situation?? THIS is where she decides to openly show joy????? Despite her uncomfortable position, she spoke with all the confidence in the world.

“Yes. There is only one I would consider my equal, and he shall rule in my stead. Diaval will end you, as well as your pathetic followers King Stephan.” She spat that last part, but I barely registered it. Mistress thought of ME as an equal?!? And she wanted me, of all creatures, to rule all of The Moors? I knew she saw me as more than a servant, for that much was obvious, but an EQUAL!?!?

Just then, my star struck inner rambling came to a stop as Stephan began to speak once more.

“DIAVAL?!? WHO IS THIS CREATURE?!?” The ruined king spat back, before somewhat recovering his composure. “No matter, if I can destroy you, I can certainly take on this Diaval.” Stephan ran his fingers through his hair, matted by his own blood, and straightened his robes. “Now for you, Maleficent,” he smirked cruelly. “Enjoy your last days. Or rather, suffer though them like the beaten animal you are.”

Stephan swept his cloak around his injured form, and strode out of the throne room. I merely stood on my perch in shock.

This definitely got worse. Oh ravens it was so much worse.

Not only were Mistress and Aurora captured, Stephan was somehow ALIVE, about to kill Mistress, and I was expected to LEAD A KINGDOM?!? What am I going to do? How can I possibly fix a disaster of this volume?! I’m just a raven! I don’t have power or wealth, all I have is.......OH.

It was like a candle flickered on in my brain. Suddenly, I knew what to do.

I may not have power over people or land, and I might not have money, but I have an entire kingdom of- shit. Right. I have no way to reach those who would help, as Mistress’s thorn wall is as strong as ever, and she’s the only one who can tear it down. That means, barring the few creatures who can fly over it, including myself, there was no one coming.

I was alone. Utterly and completely alone. What was an insignificant raven like myself to do?

Just then, a glimmer of hope shone through this situation’s never ending darkness.

Stephan’s captain darted his eyes around fearfully, before slowly and cautiously walking toward Mistress. The other guards watched, expressionless as their helmets covered enough of their faces that it was impossible to tell what each was thinking.

The captain sank down on one knee, just ahead of Mistress, and stared at her with bronze eyes that showed emotions too numerous to count.

“Do- do you really think he can do it?” The captain asked with forbidden hope.

“Kill me? My dear captain I am more than too weak to stop him. It is only a matter of Stephan’s whims now.” Mistress said mockingly, resigned to her fate. Not that I would let that happen. If Mistress is to die, I’d give my life to protect her first. But then, the captain said something that pulled the breath away from both myself and my Mistress.

“No, not that. I do not wish for you to die Maleficent. What I mean is.....can the dragon man truly do it?? Can he beat Stephan? Can he....can he free us from this madness?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The humans hated Stephan as well?? And not just any humans, but Stephan’s own royal guard??

Unfortunately, my hopes were quickly shot down.

“Boaralta no!” A nearby gaurd hissed in fury. “Do not wish for the death of our great king! Long live King Stephan!”

The captain, or Boaralta apparently, shook his head roughly and stood up.

“Of course. The witch probably took over my brain. Long live King Stephan.” Boaralta said, solemnly walking back to his position. Although, a shred of my hope was brought back by the sympathetic glance the captain gave Mistress from the corner of his eyes.

Well, it wasn’t a common opinion, but at least someone who could help disagreed with the corrupt king, even if that someone was too afraid to truly speak his mind. It was still hope. Hope to save us all, hope that I, along with everyone else, desperately needed in this time of suffering beyond anything ever seen. I flew out of the castle and away from my Mistress and daughter with this hope, begging the skies and stars that such a small thing could win against such odds. For it had to, or all was lost. And I couldn’t accept that. I could never accept that there is nothing to be done except wait for Mistress to die, The Moors to fall, and my precious daughter to fall into the clutches of such an evil man. I am willing to give my life to avoid that if need be, for that fate is one that can never come to be. I couldn’t bear it.

The only question now is how I am to prevent such a terrible future on my own.

A minor problem of course.

#diaval #maleficent #aurora #Stephan #maleval #fanfiction #fanfic #oh god what have i done #i’m so sorry #I didn’t mean to do this #our poor bird

[eryiss]

Summary: Freed and Gajeel were total opposites in every way, only connected by the guild. When they were forced to train together under Makarov's orders, they expected antagonism and mistrust. Instead, they were given a lesson in how quickly opposition can turn to attraction. The issue: let the budding relationship simmer away, or let it explode. [Freed x Gajeel Multi-chapter]

Notes: Hope you all enjoyed the last chapter, and thanks for sticking with this. It’s quite fun to write for this ship, and I hope you’re all ready for homoerotic exercise and another argument between men who don’t know how to communicate :)

Links: FFN, Ao3, Chapter List

Chapter Three - Proving a Point

Day Two: Tuesday

Gajeel woke in a pissy mood. This wasn't going like it was supposed to.

Freed was meant to be a smug, self important man with no practical skills, no world-hardened experiences, and no way of keeping up with what Gajeel was demanding of him. His three day plan had focused around humbling Freed, telling him that he wasn't hot-shit like he clearly thought, and making him realise that his cushioned life didn't mean he was Gajeel's equal.

What was not meant to happen was for Freed to be competent! He wasn't meant to make a shelter, he wasn't meant to be able to make a fire without a match, and he wasn't meant to be able to cook the damn fish and make them taste good! Even Gajeel couldn't do that.

Worse, the fucker knew. Oh he knew what Gajeel wanted but wasn't getting.

He hadn't been so smug when he'd lost though, had he? He hasn't been running his mouth when he'd been in the stream, gurgling his pathetic little surrender. Nah, he'd looked exactly how Gajeel wanted him; weak, embarrassed and unable to deal with the fact he was out of his league.

Sure, it hadn't taken long for Freed to recover and spout some bullshit about Gajeel being intimidated by his magic, or whatever the hell it was he said. He was trying to save face and Gajeel wouldn't let him; he had lost their fight because he couldn't live without his spells. That was impractical, short sighted and the way a spoiled brat of a man worked. No doubt if he had to rely on his fists more, he would have seen the stream as something to take advantage of and used it, rather than falling into Gajeel's trap.

Hah. At least one thing had gone Gajeel's way.

Mostly.

Kind of.

Look, Gajeel might hate the man and the things he seemed to stand for, but Freed wasn't bad looking. And Gajeel was just a man, who had been stripped to the waist with Freed in the same state of undress, wrestling one another. He was bound to get distracted for a moment. Thankfully, Freed's nasty kick to the balls and the ensuing tantrum after had quickly quelled any growing interest.

Gajeel knew what he had to do today, though. Because if he was going to fight with Freed at the end of the week, he needed to respect the man. He wasn't going to respect Freed if he couldn't take a defeat, and if he couldn't handle himself without his magic. So today, Freed was going to prove he had the ability to back up his words.

Okay, it was a tenuous reason for what he had planned, but fuck it. Fuck Freed too.

It was tempting to wake the prick up by dumping some of the water Gajeel had gathered over his sleeping face - a nice little reminder of how the fight had ended - but he decided against it. He needed to have everything prepared before he woke up, so it would be better to check that everything was in place. That, and Freed apparently snored a little when he was sleeping, and Gajeel certainly didn't want to interrupt the possible blackmail that could come from it.

And perhaps it was nice to have something cut through the silence of the forest.

Gajeel had trained in this forest many times, and as such had come to know how to utilise it's assets. He wandered slowly, blinking away the sleep in his eyes, and eventually found what he was looking for. A large tree that had fallen down years ago, and stumbled down a hill. What remained was a leafless trunk at the bottom of a steep incline, perfect for strength training.

Next, he walked to the largest upstanding tree within reasonable walking distance. Gajeel had often climbed this tree to push his agility and upper body strength, and it was the perfect way to test Freed's practical skills. The tree was still standing tall, the branches Gajeel used to climb still attached. Perfect, no excuses for when Freed fucked up.

When he got to the lake, Gajeel grinned a little. The morning was cold and the water would be freezing, the worst temperature to take a swim in. Normally Gajeel would have hated to swim in weather like this, but it would certainly be a nice wake-up call for the spoiled little Prince.

Yeah, this was gonna be fun. For Gajeel anyway.

——

"I think yesterday proved pretty damp conclusively that you're out of luck if you don't have your magic," Gajeel said with crossed arms, looking down at Freed. "So, today I'm gonna teach you a couple techniques that'll come in handy when you're in a situation where you can't spell yourself out of trouble."

Freed clearly wanted to make a comment, but held his tongue. He was learning, huh.

When Gajeel had returned from his check of the forest, Freed had woken up, set up a new fire and was using the rest of the fish (and a few berries that he had picked) to make them both a breakfast. Gajeel had wanted to reject it out of hand, but it had smelt great and if it was anywhere near as good as his meal the day before, refusing it would be a mistake. It had tasted amazing, so Gajeel had huffed out a thanks and gave a short nod of thanks.

Soon after that, Gajeel had motioned for Freed to follow him. Freed had done so without complaint - Gajeel couldn't prove it, but liked to think it was because the asshole was too embarrassed after his loss - and allowed himself to be led down the stream, towards the lake.

"You've got wings right, when you use yer magic?" Gajeel asked. "So yer probably gonna use 'em to get over every little thing, right?"

"Like you do with your little cat friend, I expect," Freed commented, and Gajeel stiffened slightly. Freed noticed and smirked a little. "My apologies, I interrupted you. Please, go on."

"Don't need yer permission," Gajeel grunted, more to himself than to the man standing before him. "But if yer using yer wings as much as I think you are, you ain't ready to deal with terrain that ain't easy to walk through. So, if this week's about improving then this is gonna help you get over that flaw. We run from here towards the lake, taking us through forested ground which ain't even and ain't safe, and then we swim from one side of the lake to the other."

"So it's a race then?" Freed asked, annoyingly not intimidated by the proposition.

"If you want," Gajeel shrugged. "But I ain't got a prize or anythin'. Definitely not one for participation, like yer probably used to."

Freed rolled his eyes at that, but didn't ride to the bait. Instead, he said, "Perhaps when I win, you'll cook for once."

"You ain't gonna win," Gajeel claimed.

"We'll see," Freed hummed a little, far too smug for his own good.

"Stretch up," Gajeel muttered, even though he wanted to push the man further, maybe even see if he could add an actual forfeit for losing, something to really make the fucker squirm. But, well, Gajeel didn't know for sure he would win, so couldn't risk things just in case.

Just as Gajeel went to start stretching his calves, he heard the sound of ruffling fabric and frowned. He ignored it for a moment as he felt the gentle burn of his muscles working, but caught sight of Freed's white - now dirt stained and crumpled - shirt now hanging over the branch of a nearby tree. With slightly furrowed brows, he turned towards Freed to demand an explanation, only to see him kicking off his pants and placing them right next to his shirt, leaving him only in his boxer-briefs. His tight and eye-catching boxer-briefs.

Before the thoughts could even form about how Freed was wearing his underwear to perfection, Gajeel forced his memory back to the night before. About how he'd acted and how he had tried to make Gajeel feel like crap just to feed his own ego.

Freed had lost a wrestling match, and had thrown a fit about it. Gajeel couldn't respect a man like that, and he couldn't find a guy hot if he didn't respect him.

"The hell are you doing?" Gajeel demanded.

"If we're going to swim, then I'd rather not get my only set of clothes wet when it could be avoided," Freed explained, and Gajeel was momentarily thankful that he didn't look ready to remove his boxers. He couldn't think like that, so spoke again.

"Cause you can't stand a bit of discomfort, right?" Gajeel grumbled.

"No, I just don't see the point of making things worse for myself to prove a point," Freed looked pointedly towards Gajeel when he said that. "The water is clearly going to be cold and the weather doesn't look like it'll improve, meaning it'll be a struggle to dry ourselves already. The fire can only do so much, and we'll either have to lounge around in wet clothes out of stubbornness, or remove them and wait for them to dry while we ourselves get dry. That extends the time we'll be cold, making us both uncomfortable and wasting time before whatever inane task you've got next. That, coupled with the fact that this is flu season, seems like good enough justification for avoiding a stupid problem."

Gajeel could hardly argue the point, so instead he mumbled, "We ain't gonna be lounging around."

"What an astute and well thought out argument," Freed deadpanned, and Gajeel wanted to punch him again. He didn't, instead averting his eyes as Freed started to stretch his arms. "Nobody is forcing you to do the same if you're shy, Mister Redbox. To me it just feels like the reasonable course of actions."

Rather than speaking, Gajeel turned his back. He also removed his shirt and boots; but he wasn't getting half naked like the pervert next to him.

Calling him a pervert was maybe a stretch.

He pushed back that thought, as well as the thoughts of how damn good Freed's ass looked in those boxers - Gajeel was only a man, and he couldn't deny what he saw - and instead got himself into line with Freed. The race is what he should have been focusing on, not the fact that Freed didn't look half bad when he was taken away from his pampered and luxurious sheen. Tangled hair and the odd spec of dirt really did wonders for the pretty-boy.

The race. Focus on the race. And the fact the guy couldn't deal with a loss.

"Ready?" Gajeel asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "Go."

He lurched forward before he could think, sprinting through the undergrowth of the the forest as he ran towards the lake. Years of guild work in places like this had allowed for the perfection of running through the forest; you kept alternating your gaze between the ground and on the trees.

Usually he would have turned his skin to iron so he wouldn't have to focus on the branches in his way, but he was trying to prove a point. He winced a little as a sharp end to a twig scraped against his cheek, far too close to his eye, but didn't let it stop his pace. He could hear Freed's breathing very close behind him, so evidently Freed knew how to run through a forest as well as Gajeel did, so he couldn't let up for a moment.

When they were out of the forest, there was a short run towards the lake with more space than there had been in the forest. Gajeel forced himself to run as fast as he could, not wanting to let Freed overtake him now he had the width to do so. And not having a view of the man's body might-

The race. The way he'd acted the night before. Focus dammit!

If telling himself wasn't enough to cut off his libido, the face first plunge into freezing, dirty water certainly did. He let out a shuddering gasp when his head broke the surface, but couldn't allow the ice-cold water to stop him. He quickly started to swim, smirking a little when he realised he still had the lead.

The smirk died when Freed overtook him pretty damn quickly.

Gajeel saw nothing but ripples of water ahead of him, and gritted his teeth as he tried to speed up. He was a man built to brute force his way through a problem, while Freed was apparently more agile. He should have expected that, but he had wanted to leave Freed in the dust during the run so it wouldn't be an issue.

All he could do now was swim to the other shore of the lake, pissed off.

When he reached the end of the lake, he saw Freed resting on one of the large boulders that made up the shoreline. He was panting, soaking wet and still wearing those fuckimg boxers. When he saw Gajeel haul himself up from the water, he looked towards him and smirked.

"That didn't end up how you wanted, did it?"

"Shut up," Gajeel snarled. "Get yer clothes, we've got a busy day."

When Freed laughed, Gajeel nearly pushed him into the lake again.

——

"So, you think ya can beat that?"

Gajeel had more than got his confidence back now, and he was smirking at Freed with his arms flexed intentionally.

Both he and Freed were stood at the bottom of a steep hill, where the dead tree-truck sat. Gajeel had explained this challenge; they would both have to push the tree-truck up the hill as far as they could. The justification for this exercise was that Freed might one day find himself in a situation where he was trapped without his magic and needed to force his way out with his strength alone, and the exercise was meant to simulate that. Freed clearly saw that Gajeel just wanted to push his limits, but he didn't say anything.

This was the last task of the day. They'd already attempted the tree climbing that Gajeel had planned, and Freed had been obnoxiously good at it. Gajeel had been faster, but they both knew that he had a natural advantage because he'd had practice. Gajeel could hardly boast about being slightly better then Freed at something he had done many times and Freed was new to.

Gajeel had just finished his attempt at pushing the trunk, and was fucking delighted when he saw he'd beaten his own personal record. This was how he would regain his control over things.

Freed didn't stand a chance.

"I'm sure I'll be a worthy contender," Freed stated, walking towards the tree-trunk. "Which is a feat, I expect, given that you've clearly been setting me up for failure from the beginning."

"Maybe if you weren't so predictable then I wouldn't have been able to plan things out so well," Gajeel grunted.

"So you predicted that, in everything other than tasks that relied solely on physical strength, I have exceeded your expectations and beaten you in completion, I suppose?" Freed taunted quietly as he positioned himself against the tree-trunk. "I expect you did all of this simply to prove your inferiority."

"Inferiority?" Gajeel scoffed. "You ain't done anything but bitch about this because it's not going yer way."

"Not going my way?" Freed laughed, turning from the log and looking at Gajeel again. "You are joking, aren't you?"

"All you've done is make yer little comments about how you don't think it's fair," Gajeel challenged, taking a step forward and glaring the other man down. "And when ya lose, you throw a tantrum."

"I throw tantrums," Freed demanded, sounding equal parts exasperated and annoyed. "As opposed to you, who has been acting perfectly rational throughout this? It hasn't escaped my attention that you clearly see Makarov's initiative as some sort of personal affront to you, and you have apparently seen it fair to force all of these grievances onto me. So for you, a man who has been as close to stomping his feet and wailing as his pride allows, to complain about me throwing a tantrum is practically laughable."

"You think that's what I'm doing?" Gajeel took another step forward. "I'm doing this because yer clearly a spoiled little city-boy and I ain't associating myself with something who can't-"

"Can't what?" Freed snapped. "Can't make a shelter? Can't start a fire? Can't swim across a lake faster than you? Because I've done all of this despite your clear hopes otherwise. Or would you rather judge my worth as a mage by seeing me push a dead tree up a hillside, or to wrestle you without the weapon I use nor the magic I wield? Because, Mr Redfox, if you need to force such strict parameters to best me and you consistently lose, then perhaps your plan isn't a good one."

Fuck, he wanted to punch the guy. Fully encase his fists in iron and beat the shit out of the guy. It would be damn satisfying to see the guy knocked out, while the smugness straight out of him.

"Nothing to say?" Freed continued, a patronising look on his face.

"Fuck off," Gajeel growler, turning around and going to walk away. Before he could take a step, a wall of glowing runes shot up in front of him, blocking his exit. He turned to Freed with an expression of fury. "What the hell is your problem?"

"You," Freed snapped, and magic seemed to emanate from him.

He looked feral in that moment, with all the shields of fancy clothes and smart ass words replaced by anger and magic. His shirt was billowing in the magic induced winds, and the glare on his face was accentuated by the purple swirling in his eye. Fuck, he looked like a man on the edge and it shot straight to Gajeel's dick. Freed was a gentleman gone wild, and if that wasn't one of Gajeel's most well-buried fantasies then he didn't know what was.

The expression was gone as quickly as it came, and the magic swarming Freed's eye fell away. For a moment, Freed looked worried, but he was talking again before Gajeel could understand why he looked like that.

"Neither of us are happy about this, but at the end of the week we have to fight side by side, and the biggest issue we have right now is that we can't stand one another," Freed seemed more calm now, as if the bubble of anger had burst. What the hell had caused that? "So, either you plan something that might make us work together, or at least respect one another, or we both stop trying and say to hell with the consequences."

Gajeel didn't say anything. It felt like the rug had been pulled from under him.

Suddenly, a wave of shitty realisation hit him. Freed had a point when he said he was taking his anger out on him, when he really just didn't want to do the damn training thing at all. He wasn't being fair.

"I think that's enough," Freed sighed. "I'll gather my things and go home. You needn't contact me again."

Freed was walking away before Gajeel could react, and the walls of runes fell around them both. A horrid feeling of regret filled Gajeel, and he quickly jogged to catch up with Freed, who was clearly ignoring him. He kinda deserved it.

"Shit, Freed, wait," He placed a hand on the man's chest, and Freed glared at him. "Yer right, I ain't been fair," It wasn't a fun thing to admit. "I had some ideas about who you were, and didn't wanna let ya prove me wrong, even when you were kicking my ass," He sighed. "And yer right about me wanting to fuck you over, that's why I did this shit, and it wasn't right. That was shitty of me."

"Well, I can hardly blame you for judging me. We were both guilty of that," Freed admitted. "And thank you for admitting that. But I don't see how we could suddenly become a cohesive, effective team, we're hardly compatible."

Gajeel sighed, Freed had a point.

But if a Fairy Tail mage was good at anything, they were good at being stubborn.

"What if we have a fight?" Gajeel proposed, and Freed frowned at him. "Talking like this ain't gonna get rid of the attitude we have for each other, right? You're still pissed at me, and you said some things that made me wanna sock a punch in yer jaw. Maybe having the chance to beat the shit outta each other might break through the attitude problems we have."

"That's not too bad an idea," Freed admitted, glancing at the evening sky for a moment. "It would be cathartic to make you scream."

"Buy me dinner first, city-boy," Gajeel teased before he could think. Freed all but gaped at him, and Gajeel was speaking to fill the silence before he could stop himself. "Y'know, I ain't ever seen you fight before. Don't know how you work."

"Then I have the advantage," Freed grinned slightly. "And you're voluntarily giving it to me. Perhaps you really are repentant."

"Nah, just wanna kick yer ass without you having an excuse."

"We'll see," Freed smirked, and Gajeel found himself grinning back.

#Gajeed #Freedjeel #Freed x Gajeel #freed justine #gajeel redfox #fairy tail #fanfic #writing #canon divergent #multi chapter #chapter three #word count: 3.6k

[queenk00k]

but what if we were pure gold all along? jj maybank (chapter 1)

Summary: After the assumed death of their best friend, the Pogues are falling apart at the seams. With Pope and Kiara getting closer and JJ left with nowhere to go, he finds himself left to his own devices. Feeling lost and rejected, his luck seems to turn when he meets Scarlett - a Kook who doesn’t treat him like shit and has an affinity for partying. JJ gets sucked into her world as she promises to help him forget.

How much longer can he keep running from his demons? And what happens when he starts sharing a bed with one?

Warnings: depictions of violence, child abuse, angst, sexual content, drug use, underage drinking.

Author’s note: Hi all, this is my multi-chapter fic I’ve been working on. My oneshots & Rafe series have taken off so I thought it was time to share this one too. Let me know what you think!

Word count: 1.7K

READ THE PROLOGUE HERE

the one where pogue promises are bullshit

“You mean she can’t hang out with us at all?” JJ asks Pope over cereal late the next morning. It feels almost insulting to John B to be doing something so irritatingly normal but hey, a boy’s gotta eat and he sure as shit won’t be getting breakfast at home.

“Nope. Parents got her on lockdown,” Pope answers solemnly. “They freaked out after the whole running from the cops thing. Not to mention, they’re not keen on Kie ending up like…” Pope trails off as JJ looks up at him sharply.

“They could still be alive man. We don’t know.”

JJ’s sure Pope looks at him with pity as he replies, “Maybe. But I mean, JJ, the Phantom in that storm…Shoupe said it himself, they took an open boat into a tropical depression. I just don’t see how they could still be a-alive.” Pope chokes on the word alive as if it were poison and he sucks in a deep breath as tears fall down his cheeks and JJ can’t take it anymore. He pushes back his chair, the metal legs scraping against the floorboards as JJ rises from the table abruptly.

“I’m going out,” he says as he feels the walls closing in and he just needs to get outside before its too overwhelming and goddamnit he’s sick of crying, will it stop sometime soon?

“JJ-“ Pope starts to rise from his chair but JJ waves a hand at him to sit back down, not looking directly at Pope in case, God forbid, he sees just how broken JJ feels.

“Nah man, it’s fine. I just need some weed. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, JJ makes his way out the front door alone, his feet heavy and his heart heavier still.

JJ’s been staying at Pope’s house for a week now and he can’t help but think he’s the only one struggling. He still hasn’t seen or spoken to Kie who, according to Pope, is still on strict lockdown, and Pope has thrown himself into studying and finding loopholes for other scholarships that would let him interview. This leaves JJ with not much to do but wander aimlessly, not going too far just in case his dad decides to come looking for him.

Pope joins him on the back porch one night where, despite strict orders from Heyward to not get up to any mischief in his house, JJ is surreptitiously pulling on a joint, the smoke curling outwards into the un-seasonally cool evening.  

“Mind if I take a hit?”

Lost in his thoughts, JJ jumps at the unexpected interruption. “Shit man, you scared me. Sorry, I know your dad said not to get up to anything but I just feel like garbage and –“

“Nah, I know. I get it. Pass it here,” Pope replies, sitting down next to JJ on the worn steps. JJ passes him the blunt, the corner of his eyes crinkling in a rare smile.

“Coming back to the dark side, are you?” After Pope’s outburst around the time John B and Sarah went missing, he vowed not to get like that again.

Pope coughed as he blew out the smoke. “Ha, no. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

JJ takes the used stub and crushes it under his boot. “Uh oh. That’s never good.”

“It’s fine. More than fine. They’re letting me interview for the scholarship position again.”

“You’re kidding. Bro, that’s awesome,” JJ replies sincerely, clapping his calloused hand on Pope’s shoulder. “I mean it. Good for you. How did you manage to convince them?’

Pope smiles at him. “I told them about John B and Sarah. They figured two friends going missing at sea counted as ‘extenuating circumstances’.”

“Extenuating?”

“Means they agree it was fucked up and they’re letting me off the hook.”

“Hmm. Well, that’s great man.” JJ smiles. “Why did you want to talk to me about it this way?”

Pope sighs. “I’m just preparing you. I’m gonna be pretty busy trying to figure out how to answer their questions. I wanted you to know now so you don’t think I’m trying to ditch you.”

JJ nods solemnly. “I appreciate it. Thanks.”

Pope stares at him for a moment. “Do you think your dad is gonna come looking for you?”

“I don’t think he’ll try anything with your dad around.” JJ scoffs. “I’m pretty sure he was always scared of him.”

Pope nods and before he gets a chance to reply, his phone lights up with a new text and he steals a glance. JJ is sure he looks happy about whatever it was.

“Hey, I gotta head out and pick my dad up. Are you good here?”

“Yeah man, I’ll see you later.”

Pope claps him on the back as he bounds down the steps and in the darkness, leaving JJ alone to battle with his conflicting emotions.

On one hand, he’s overjoyed at the prospect of at least one of them having a decent future, considering his was pretty shot to bits and he had no idea what Kie was thinking, but on the other hand…on the other hand, JJ couldn’t help but feel jealous and a little hurt that Pope had something else to focus on other than the fact that one of his best friends was dead.

JJ remains sitting outside for longer than he realises, contemplating rolling another joint to keep him company and scuffing his boot in the dirt, willing himself to stop feeling so fucking emotional all the time.

__

After a while, JJ is brought out of his own head a second time as the sound of the front door closing causes him to jerk his head up.

JJ stands and makes his way through the back door, stopping abruptly when he realises he can hear Pope’s parents voices, but not Pope himself.

JJ gets the sinking feeling that Pope was lying to him, and he edges forward to make out what the hushed voices were arguing about.

“….and the longer he’s here, the more danger we’re putting our son in.”

“What do you suggest we do then? You know we can’t let him go back home. That boat was his father’s and I know what Luke is capable of. I’m worried for the boy.”

“He can’t stay here…”

“Last time I checked, Luke was scared shitless of me and-“

“You’re not 30 anymore baby, and he’s unpredictable - he could have a gun. JJ needs to leave, go into foster care or something, but he’s not staying here whilst we risk our family.”

A loud, resigned sigh. “Fine, I’ll talk to the boy.”

JJ’s heart races and he breathes heavily, nostrils flared and hands curled into fists. He turns slowly towards the back door, opening it quietly, praying that Pope’s parents don’t hear him leaving, their words echoing in his ears.

“…the longer he’s here, the more danger we’re putting our son in.”

“He can’t stay here…”

“…he needs to leave…”

JJ kicks the wheelbarrow as he crosses the yard, out of anger or fear he’s not quite sure, and ignores the searing pain in his foot. He was used to feeling like a burden, so why did this hurt so much? He wanted to be angry at Pope’s family, and he figured he was a little bit, but he also understood. He wouldn’t want to put Pope in any more danger than he already had.

JJ rounds the corner and runs straight into Pope, who has the decency to look a bit ashamed of himself. JJ can’t help himself as he narrows his eyes.

“Picking your dad up, huh? What were you really up to?”

Pope opens his mouth to stammer out a response but before he can come up with another excuse, JJ notices something in the glow of the street light.

JJ curses and moves Pope’s collar to reveal a dark purple bruise. Pope’s eyes widen as he steps back, faltering under JJ’s cool gaze.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ manages to ask through gritted teeth, his jaw clenching. “Have you been sneaking off to see Kiara?” JJ’s angry, sure, but he’s also hurt because why doesn’t Kiara want to see him and why is Pope lying to him and why does nobody want him?

Pope clears his throat. “I’m sorry man, we’ve just started going out and she needs me and-“

“You’re going out now?”

“I mean yeah, she did kiss me and everything and it just kind of escalated from there-“

“And what about ‘she needs me?’ What about me, bro? What happened to us Pogues sticking together?”

“JJ, I’m sorry man, Kie’s parents don’t want her seeing you and I don’t want her getting into any more trouble-“

JJ interrupts again as he shoves Pope away from him, his blue eyes icy as he struggles to contain his anger. “Yeah man, whatever, I get it.”

JJ stalks past Pope, muttering “unbelievable” under his breath and heading straight for his bike.

“JJ, please,” Pope starts but JJ holds up a hand to silence him, as he hops on his bike and speeds away without looking back.

Pogues don’t leave each other behind, huh? Bullshit, he thinks as he speeds away.

__

JJ finds his way to The Chateau without even thinking, almost as if muscle memory brought him here. He stops his bike out front and heads inside, smiling tersely at the fondness he feels for the place. When his own home wasn’t safe enough, which was often, he felt most at home here with his friends, stealing food from John B and crashing on the futon after keggers.

His throat burns at the thought of John B, at the thought of the Pogues, at the thought of the fact that Pope’s been screwing Kiara and lying to him about it and why the hell is that their priority right now?

JJ walks slowly down the hallway, noticing how the place has been completely trashed and stripped bare thanks to those square groupers and now the cops. God, all of that seems like centuries ago. How did they manage to end up here?

JJ barely makes it to the back of the house before a familiar voice makes him stop in his tracks and his blood run cold.

“Boy, if you’re in here I swear to God I’m going to kill you!”

JJ gulps.

Looks like dad came looking for me after all.

taglist (please message if you’d like to be added or removed)

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#jj maybank #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank fic #jj maybank fanfic #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fanfiction #pope heyward #outer banks fanfic #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks fic #obx fic #obx fanfic #obx fanfiction #jj outer banks

[malecsecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, adaline-blooms!

For @adaline-blooms​. Wishing my dear giftee a healthy and happy Christmas, and I hope you enjoy this gift!! <3

Read On AO3

*****

Chapter 1 - When You’re Feeling Weary

Alec is just making sure he’s mixed Magnus’ martini to his very stringent specifications when the man himself, looking entirely too put together to be feeling the supposed exhaustion Izzy’s text just warned him about, makes an entrance that has Alec eye-rolling in the fondest of ways.

Dressed in the all-black outfit with electric-blue accents that has to be Alec’s favourite, Magnus already has his attention, but the sultry neck-roll that he pairs so well with that heaving sigh guarantees it. Only before he can respond to this display of effortless sensuality, Magnus performs a well-timed heel-pivot and flops dramatically down onto the couch, with the limbs flung wide being a particularly nice touch.

Even by Magnus’ usual standards, that was impressive.

“Busy day, huh?” Alec asks, ambling over as he adds the obligatory olive. Trying, but largely failing, to keep a straight face.

“You could say that, Alexander,” comes the weary reply, followed by another sigh.

So adorable.

“Then perhaps this might help?” he enquires, holding out the drink and waiting for the reaction.

One glitter-rimmed eye cranks open. The smile is Alec’s reward.

“Well, it’s certainly a good start,” Magnus replies, eyebrows dancing as he somehow musters the energy to make it to a half-seated position, and swallows it down in one.

Okay.

“Another?”

With a wink, Magnus hands back the glass, and Alec is happy to comply. Grinning to himself as Magnus starts sniffing the air.

“Alexander, I know I may be hallucinating through sheer fatigue, but is that mouth-watering aroma I can smell coming from our kitchen, by any chance?”

More than a little offended but willing to forgive in the circumstances, Alec passes Magnus ‘liquid medicine number two’ and gallantly sees to the removal of his boots and coat.

“I’ll have you know that I’ve been practicing. Hard.”

Magnus still looks unconvinced.

“Fine. Hold onto your drink,” he warns before hoisting his disbelieving husband over his shoulder, ignoring the shriek and the spills, and marches into the kitchen where he’s only marginally more gentle about depositing him on the countertop. “Now do you believe me?”

Shame-faced, Magnus nods. His wide eyes take in the organised chaos of Alec’s dinner preparations, which Alec hopes will produce the best eight-ounce steak Magnus has ever eaten. Well, at the loft, at least.

“My apologies for doubting you, Alexander. It was just, given how-”

Palm raised, Alec halts the unnecessary explanation mid-flow. He did have form in ruining meals, after all. But not this one.

“I get it,” Alec assures him. “But like I said, I’ve been practicing.”

Two strong legs hook around his hips and draw him closer until they’re trapping him against Magnus’ body. Magnus gives him a quizzical look. “How could you possibly have known that I would need exactly this today?”

“My rather concerned sister gave me a heads up about your heroic exploits at Croton Point about an hour before you came home, because she was worried you may be feeling the consequences of having dealt with a particularly stubborn horde of Kuri earlier. Hence why everything to restore your depleted magic is already in hand.”

Alec knows he looks pretty pleased with himself, but seeing how visibly touched that news makes this man in front of him is also a worthwhile cause to be happy, without a doubt.

Raising his half-empty glass, Magnus addresses his gratitude to the ceiling. “Thank you, darling Isabelle.” Then swiftly downs the contents, before winding those equally strong arms around Alec’s neck. “You, however, deserve something altogether different as a sign of my heartfelt thanks.”

Alec couldn’t agree more, gladly accepting the thoroughly gratifying kiss that puts fire in his blood as his due for being thoughtful.

“Consider that the first of many you’ll be receiving tonight,” Magnus promises, as his thumb traces the outline of Alec’s kiss-swollen lips.

It’s Alec’s turn to heave a deep sigh.

A playful Magnus is a powerful thing, but if he wants Magnus brimming with energy to get those kisses, he needs to flex his culinary muscles without delay.

Only when he explains this is he reluctantly released.

Supplying a third martini to a now doubly-thirsty Magnus, Alec then focuses entirely on his cooking. Dodging those grabby limbs isn’t easy though. Mostly because their remarkably-energetic owner is a mischievous little shit who is in the mood for games.

A mood that Alec is hopeless to stop, not that he really wants to, even as he plates up the medium rare triumph and pours another zinger of a cocktail. Mostly thanks to Magnus’ excessive pleasure-noises as he works his razor-sharp jaw to chew, extends that elegant throat to swallow, and uses that wicked tongue to lick his lips.

Who needs actual food when you can provide a feast, Alec muses, chin resting in his palm as he dreamily enjoys the multi-sensory feedback he’s getting from a very aware Magnus. Is there anything better than seeing this man happy? Alec doesn’t think so.

He’s so eager for his second thank you kiss that Magnus has barely had time to put down his knife and fork before Alec’s dragging his chair out so that he can straddle him, their giggles making it harder but neither’s complaining.

“You continue to surprise and energise me, Alexander,” remarks a husky-voiced Magnus when they come up for air. “That was delicious.”

Alec’s about to thank him with a kiss of his own, when he adds, “The steak wasn’t too shabby either,” and they’re off giggling again.

Alec doesn’t think he’ll ever not blush when Magnus compliments him, and trying to hide behind his hands only results in being called “all kinds of cute,” so he sucks up all the embarrassing-but-secretly-pleasing adjectives being thrown at him and tugs his tormentor in the direction of their bathroom for phase three of his recovery.

Once he’s plonked Magnus in a chair and plugged his nonsense with a fifth martini, Alec fills the lavish, claw-foot tub with water, adding the iridescent blend of unknown boosters that he knows has to be used sparingly else Magnus will be on a super-charged magic rush again for days to come.

Alec didn’t think his body, or their bed, could survive that again.

Or could they?

Magnus’ filthy laugh means he’s not the only one thinking dirty thoughts, but Alec hasn’t gone to all this trouble to have both of them wiped out at the end of it.

“Cut that out,” he warns, to no avail, as he pulls the menace to his unsteady feet and begins the ever-enjoyable task of ridding Magnus of his beautiful clothes.

Meanwhile, Magnus is taking every opportunity to derail his efforts with kisses here and caresses there, deaf to Alec’s admittedly half-hearted protestations when he starts to return the favour of undressing him. All of which makes it impossible not to reciprocate with eager touches of his own.

Alec tries one last time to be good, even as he’s stepping into the bubble-filled bath and pulling Magnus down to rest against him. “I’m supposed to be helping you get your energy back, Magnus, not encouraging you to spend more.”

Magnus gives a lazy shrug of his shoulders, even as his hands begin to wander. “Then we’ll just have to take things very, very slowly.”

Oh well. He tried.

Chapter 2 - When You’re Feeling Sad

Alec’s just signing off on what feels like his hundredth mission report of the day when a message from Magnus shows up on his phone.

Mind if we postpone tonight’s plans? Fancy a quiet evening instead

His hesitation is brief, even if he’s surprised Magnus wants to skip on their much-anticipated theatre trip.

Not at all. Everything okay?

This hesitation is longer.

Tell you when you get home x

That’s all the reason Alec needs to clear his desk and inform Underhill that he’s done for the day. He knows Magnus had clients today, but he hadn’t been worried about them. As he heads home, he’s left wondering what could’ve happened since their goodbye kiss after breakfast.

The loft is in near darkness when Alec arrives, save for a sliver of light that spills from the balcony door left ajar, and the mild concern that prompted him to return early is replaced with a heavier sense of foreboding as he makes his way out there.

Hunched over the balcony wall and nursing what looks to be at least a double whiskey, is how Alec finds Magnus, and although his face can’t be seen from this angle, everything about his posture radiates a sadness that worries him.

“Magnus? Are you okay?” he asks softly, somehow still unprepared for the sorrow that’s etched on his husband’s face when he turns around and slowly shakes his head.

In two strides, Alec’s there to gather him up in a comforting hug, giving Magnus all the time he needs to explain what’s made him upset.

“We lost a promising young warlock today,” Magnus begins, barely audible from where he’s burrowed into Alec’s chest. “Her name was Zoe. A girl Clary saved the night I met you, after her father was killed by Valentine.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Magnus. I think I remember that name though,” Alec tells him as he presses a kiss to Magnus’ forehead. “Wasn’t she the one you asked Tessa to train at the Spiral Labyrinth?”

Magnus nods, a smile at least present in his voice now. “That’s right. She always had her head in a book, hungry for information. Gifted with an eidetic memory and a talent for learning languages, she really did have a very bright future ahead of her, until....”

Alec waits as Magnus drags in a shaky breath before continuing.

“As Tessa explained it, Zoe had recently added tutoring to her list of accomplishments. Something I was aware of, but I wish now I’d taken the time to ask her about. In lieu of her late father, I’d always felt a certain parental responsibility towards her. Anyway. While she was there, at the home of the family who hired her, she collapsed. No warning, no complaints of feeling unwell. No chance of help.”

Alec’s hands try to soothe but he doesn’t interrupt, preferring to let Magnus work through his emotions.

“I-it’s just such a shock, Alexander. Such a waste. Tessa said they can’t be sure it’s not magic-related yet, but...I’m finding it hard to accept that she’s gone. That I’ll never get to witness everything she undoubtedly would’ve become.”

Untangling himself momentarily, Alec brings him over to the lounger where he plucks the whiskey from Magnus’ hand and sets it down on the nearby table before they move in sync to settle in that age old way of dispensing comfort, with Magnus curled up in Alec’s lap, his fingers combing through Magnus’ hair.

“Magnus, I can only imagine what you and Tessa must be feeling right now. Passing way before her time, and so suddenly? It’s tragic. But I’m here for you. In whatever way helps you the most.” He’d protect him from every loss, every hurt, if he could.

“This is already helping. Truly,” Magnus assures him, head resting against Alec’s chest in order to hear the heartbeat he’s frequently said helps to send him to sleep.

Alec hopes it does now, and allows the long, peaceful minutes to stretch, feeling the tension in Magnus’ body gradually ease. He’s about to suggest they lie down instead, when Magnus speaks.

“I’m sorry about cancelling our plans tonight. I hope you’re not too disappointed?” A hint of amusement colours Magnus’ question and so, Alec takes his cue.

“Me, look forward to a show? Have you met me?”

It makes Magnus chuckle, but it’s a tired one. A state that’s reflected in how long it takes those beautiful eyes, too weary for glamour, to find his, and that elegant hand to cup Alec’s cheek in that way that never fails to make him feel precious.

“I have, and I will never be as grateful for anything else in this life, Alexander.”

The barely-there kiss is so reverential that Magnus finds sleep before Alec’s able to voice words of his own, but he hopes Magnus already knows how thankful he is too.

Closing his eyes, Alec promises to make a point of telling him as soon as they both wake up.

Chapter 3 - When You’re Feeling Overwhelmed

Alec’s not sure what’s initially responsible for disturbing his fathoms-deep slumber, but the muffled stream of expletives he hears in that very familiar voice definitely has his attention now.

Reaching out blindly for Magnus’ side of the bed in the forlorn hope that he’s mistaken, Alec groans when all his fingers encounter is cold silk. Opening his bleary eyes to confirm the distinct lack of Magnus in their bed, he tugs on a t-shirt and stifles a yawn as he sets about finding the errant husband who’d promised he “wouldn’t be much longer” hours ago.

He’s just stumbled into the dimly-lit corridor outside the bedroom when a series of kabooms, followed by what Alec can only assume is a heartfelt curse in some ancient tongue, brings him not only to the half-open doorway of the unusually-chaotic apothecary, but also fully to his senses.

Surrounded by various experiments and too engrossed in the energetic scolding of his own fisted hands to notice Alec’s arrival, is a wildly dishevelled Magnus, whose exhaustion is writ large on his handsomely expressive face.

Alec decides they're both in need of a hug.

Hitching his top over his nose so as not to inhale any of the sulphur-and-spice-scented smoke that’s fogging up the room, Alec ventures cautiously inside.

Doing his best to avoid bumping into the extra tables that are covered in a myriad of mixing bowls and mason jars, and the messy assortment of ingredients that are strewn in between them, Alec inadvertently startles his fragile husband with his sudden appearance, causing him to dislodge a cylinder of liquid that scorches a hole in the priceless Persian rug mere inches from their feet.

At which point, Magnus promptly bursts into tears and collapses in a graceless heap on the floor. Feeling terrible, Alec joins him there and holds him as he whispers abject apologies that barely make it through the racket of frustrated sobs, until finally, in between sniffles, he receives forgiveness in the form of a salt-stained kiss.

“Magnus, what are you doing in here? Whatever it is, surely it can wait until morning?” Alec asks, using the hem of his shirt to wipe the worst of the tear stains from Magnus’ face. Even smudged and saddened, he’s still easily the most beautiful man Alec’s ever seen.

“Loathe as I am to admit it, Alexander,” Magnus replies in between hiccups, “I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with my current list of client orders, and instead of rectifying this sooner, I shall now have to admit to them, and to myself, that my own hubris will result in them either being delayed or cancelled all together.”

Even his gulp is cute, Alec muses, before pondering the best way to go about saving Magnus’ hard-won reputation from the brink of destruction, preferably without the need for any humiliating apologies. Given the time constraints, he can only think of one.

“I’m assuming at least some of those orders need filling by tomorrow if you haven’t been able to sleep yet?”

Sheepishly, Magnus holds up six shaky fingers, and regardless of whether or not the answer had been that or six hundred, Alec was not about to see those orders fail. Not with so much at stake.

Getting to his feet and pulling Magnus up with him, Alec offers his suggestion as his hands make light work of straightening out Magnus’ robe and his hair.

“Here’s what’s going to happen.” A hopeful glint in those warm brown eyes almost distracts him. “I’m going to put some pants on and make us both a generous mug of strong, black coffee while you salvage what you can here, and then,” he chuckles, cupping Magnus’ eager face in his hands, “I will try my best to help prepare the ingredients you need, so you can then concentrate on whatever process is needed for each order.”

Concerned, Magnus grips Alec’s waist and asks, “But it will take at least two hours for all the distilling and blending to be done, and then there’s-”

“Uh-uh, none of that. Positive thoughts only, Mr Lightwood-Bane, you have a humble assistant that needs training, after all,” Alec counters, dropping an encouraging kiss that threatens to flare out of control until Alec takes a firm step backwards.

“We’re supposed to be working,” he warns, wagging his finger at his unrepentant mentor and backing carefully out of the room, much preferring the sound of Magnus’ laughter to the sound of his tears.

With the aid of caffeine to boost their concentration and a near constant supply of cheeky kisses and inappropriate booty grabs, along with a lot of hard graft, dawn finds them bone-tired but relieved that their joint sacrifice has paid off.

Now, with two orders already boxed and ready to go, three in the final stages of resting and one that just requires filtering every half hour, Alec finally feels confident enough in their ability to meet the delivery deadlines to insist that Magnus, a spent force at this stage, catches up on the sleep denied him earlier.

Magnus’ mumbled protests eventually peter out as he’s carried bridal-style to their bed and tucked beneath the sheets, his peaceful expression being all the reward Alec needs to see him through the final hours of his vigil.

Chapter 4 - When You’re Feeling Worried

Having arrived home sooner than expected from his weekend of intensive Portal Enhancement lectures in Stockholm, Magnus can’t deny he’s more than a little disappointed not to be greeted by a strong pair of arms and an enthusiastic pair of lips.

Especially when his reason for curtailing his professional obligations was so he could be here for Alec on the eve of his important meeting with fellow institute heads.

Proud as he is of Alec’s commitment to change, they both know there’ll be many who will try and resist his controversial proposal that they each create their own Downworld Cabinet without delay, in order to deliver on promises made to their counterparts. As he’d said many times, no change worth making was ever easy.

A deep sigh escapes him.

Just for one day, it would be nice to let the mantle of responsibility slip from their shoulders and have nothing but each other’s happiness to worry about, but Magnus will gladly take every day he can get with Alec and cherish it, whatever the challenges may be. And right now, the challenge is to discover the whereabouts of his husband.

Skype catch-ups and hastily-arranged phone sex are no substitute for enjoying the tangible presence of your biggest supporter and primary stress-reliver rolled into one.

Only stopping long enough to make sure his research papers are stored securely in the apothecary’s safe and his case is banished to the bedroom, Magnus portals to Alec’s office where he finds his very own sleeping beauty sprawled awkwardly across the couch, surrounded by pages of scribbled out presentation notes, cartons of barely touched food and a dozen or so coffee cups that have been drained of every drop.

Another deep sigh escapes him.

Heart full at seeing that much-missed face, youthful in its slumber, but feeling guilt over allowing himself to be persuaded that Alec’s preparations were all going well and his smiling reassurances were genuine, Magnus vows to do better in future and prepares to get Alec, and his proposal, back on track.

Shrugging off his coat and folding it over the least cluttered surface he can find, he locks the door behind him with a quiet flourish and soundproofs the room, because as far as Magnus is concerned, only he should be privy to those adorable little snores.

Unable to give into the overwhelming urge to wake Alec up with slow kisses, Magnus settles instead on burying his face in the soft, untidy curls that still smell of sandalwood, as he kneels down to better wrestle Alec’s heavy limbs into a more comfortable position.

Guessing that Alec probably hasn’t slept much in the last twenty-four hours, he decides to leave him be for a little longer and covers him in the cashmere blanket that Magnus insists on being kept here in case of emergency naps, reviving the fire with a flick of his wrist.

Rolling up his sleeves and allowing his gaze to sweep those handsome features one last time, he turns his attention to the task in hand.

In the absence of a conscious Alec to berate, Magnus grumbles his way through the clean up operation, aware most of his annoyance is aimed at himself for not being here to help, but also knowing that sometimes, their work has to come first. He wishes it didn’t.

Decluttering the desk, and lamenting how Alec always manages to look after everyone but himself, Magnus' annoyance at all the unnecessary edits Alec has made to his already-perfect speech evaporates. As he organises them into what he thinks was the original order, it’s too easy to picture how Alec’s self-doubt would’ve made him see flaws in his preparation that just weren’t there.

Oh, Alexander, I wish you’d told me how you were really feeling.

Wrinkling his nose up at the pungent leftovers and the dark circles staining the surface of the desk, he quickly gets rid of the rubbish, replacing the stagnant odours with the mouth-watering smell of baked goods and beverages from their favourite bakery.

If he places it right under Alec’s nose in the hopes it wakes him up, so what? Magnus has been separated from the beautiful man that’s so temptingly draped across the cushions for two very long days and nights, and he’s missed him dreadfully. Surely, Alec has had enough rest by now.

Toeing off his boots and climbing cat-like over Alec to wedge himself against the back of the cosy couch, Magnus carefully adjusts the blanket to cover both of them and snuggles in, breathing in the familiar scent of the man and feeling at home in every sense of the word.

Arms tighten around him on instinct and Magnus can’t suppress his smile when it’s followed by a sleepy, “That’s better.”

“Much better,” Magnus whispers, trailing soft kisses down the side of Alec’s throat that can be reached without disturbing him....too much.

Appreciative noises fill his ears and embolden him to seek out more skin, until Alec is finally roused to wakefulness and greeting Magnus with kisses of his own.

“I must say, this is a very, very nice surprise,” Alec informs him once he has Magnus securely settled on top of him.

“I’m very, very glad to hear it,” Magnus replies, finally content but unwilling to let things he’s worried about slide just yet. “Alec, listen,” he begins earnestly, “you have to tell me when-” before Alec interrupts.

“When things get on top of me? I know, Magnus, and I’ll do better next time. Really,” he sighs, eyes closing briefly before they urge him to believe his words. “I shouldn’t have tried to hide my stress. I should’ve been honest with you about how I was feeling about tomorrow.” Tipping his head towards the cleared space, he adds, ”Preferably, before it got to whatever that was.”

Believing him, Magnus plants a lasting thank you kiss on his cheek. “May I humbly suggest that those unnecessary changes you made to your excellent speech be forgotten?”

“Sure thing,” Alec quips, eager to show Magnus just how much he’s been missed. “It’s like I’ve told you before, I can’t think straight when you’re not around.”

Magnus hums in agreement. “And as I’ve told you before, I can’t do anything without thinking of you.”

Alec’s eyes are dancing with mischief as he quickly flips them over to start working on opening Magnus’ buttons.

“Then it’s clearly in both of our best interests to stay as close to each other as possible.”

“Clearly,” Magnus agrees, following suit.

Then finally, their reunion begins in earnest.

#adaline-blooms #malecsanta20 #*gifts20

[kickingitwithkirk]

Regina Coeli, Regina Infernum

Pairing: Boyking!Sam Winchester x Reader x Knightofhell!Dean Winchester

Prompt: If you really wanna try it, experiment on me *Sense-Taste

Word Count: 3213

Warnings: 18+ cursing, dirty talk, flirting m/m f/m, kissing m/m m/f, oral m/f giving/receiving, p/v, p/a, dp m/f/m, grace/blood consumption, mentions of death/killing, wincest(kissing only)

**Blasphemy for content- if you are offended by religious tenets or altering of religious tenets please skip this story.

A/N: This is the original version I wrote for #bees5Ksenseschallange before realizing it was way over the max word limit. I’m linking the toned down other version too.

Edited version

Please drop me a comment, it’s appreciated.

A/N II: Latin terms: Puer Rex Infernum-boy king of hell. Regina Coeli- queen of heaven, Regina Infernum-queen of hell. Yeah, my Latin sucks

Divider: created by @writeyourmindaway​​ -I flipped original version for story.

*no beta, all mistakes are mine

Sam entered the room without acknowledging his council walked straight to his throne throwing himself onto it.

“Get out.” He said flatly. They looked at each other confused. “Sir, you summoned us here...” The demon exploded in a cloud of fire and smoke before finishing.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Sam kept his voice level as he raised his left hand and placed his thumb against his middle finger ready to snap the rest of these sycophants out of existence.

Bowing deeply his subordinates back out of the room as fast as possible.

“What crawled up your ass and died today Sammy?” A disembodied voice inquired from a dark corner.

“Watch your mouth or you can get the hell out too Dean.” Sam says abrasively, not in the mood for his brother.

“Hey, I’m just concerned about you. That’s the fourth time this week you’ve called in the council and blew someone up.”

Sam tipped his head back, closing his eyes against the throbbing pain he felt. He barely hears the soughing of Dean's jeans coming towards him.

When he was human, Dean generally was loud on a regular basis unless they were hunting. As a demon, his brother can move so silently even the hell hounds, with their superior auditory senses, can’t detect him.

Dean stops next to his beautiful brother studying him. The strain of ruling hell by himself was showing the longer he sat upon this throne alone.

It had been over five decades since the Demon Curing Ritual had rendered Dean’s restraints useless allowing him to escape. After using a sigil to dispatch Castiel, he hunted Sam mercilessly throughout the bunker before knocking him out with that hammer.

Dean hauled his brother back to the dungeon and after securing him to the chair raided the infirmary searching for the blood transfusion equipment. He ignored a pleading Sam, finally begging to allow him finish the cure.

“Dean, I love you.”

He paused.

Dean’s green eyes shined with all the love he had always felt for his little brother, even before he was born saying, ”I love you too Sammy, but I like the disease,” proceeds to infuse him, pumping tainted blood until he couldn’t pass any more from his body, then sat back and waited.

The bunker's warding burned and its steel reinforced walls groaned from the pressure of an unseen power radiating outwards from the dungeon.

Receiving multiple calls of a strange glow the fire department arrived to find the multistory bunker reduced to nothing but smoldering rubble. When interviewed, the police chief decreed it to be a structure failure and the final resting place of its only known occupants, the eccentric Campbell brothers.

The inferno regions of the Underlands paled in comparison to the ferocity of the Winchester brothers as they stormed the Citadels hallowed halls.

Sam embraced his rightful place as the Puer Rex Infernum with his brother, The Knight of Hell, at his side for eternity.

Long live the Boy King of Hell.

Dean had been standing in front of him staring for nearly an half hour when Sam's sarcasm surfaced, “Take a picture, it'll last longer,” finally opening his onyx eyes. Dean knew he was physically in pain, Sam never wore those eyes otherwise when they were alone.

“What you need..”

“You made it obvious what you think I need Dean, they didn’t help.”

“How many did you get through?” His curiosity peaked.

“All of them.” Sam's voice was strangely dissociated.

Dean blinked in surprise, “You fucked all of them?”

“Fuck and drained, including the guards watching them.”

“Damn Sammy, I’m proud of you!” Dean couldn’t contain his elation, even after all these years, of his brother embracing this life.

Before giving in to their dark sides, Sam was his complete opposite when it came to sex. His encounters were few and far between, preferring, unlike Dean, to have a connection, not just a roll in the hay.

Sam should have been flying high on demon blood topped off by all that pussy and cock, but it was having the opposite effect. He was utterly melancholy.

Dean reached out and gently cupped his cheek, running a calloused thumb over his surprisingly soft, pink lips. Sam’s eyes shifted back to their engaging multi colored hues, softening with the forbidden love for his brother he’s always felt as he gazed at Dean.

Giving into temptation Dean leaned down to taste those lips, whispering against them, “Don’t worry baby brother, I’ll find what you need to stop your pain.”

Dean slammed the heavy ornate door of his private rooms having wasted his time on another fruitless, dead end pursuit. It had been nearly a year since he started his search with nothing to show for it but disappointment and a trail of corpses.

“You look like you need a drink.” A gruff voice called out from his bedroom.

***

Sam had negotiated a truce between Heaven and Hell shortly after taking over. Many of the stipulations we’re only known to the parties directly involved there was one specific item made public.

Someone was chosen to reside in the other's domain as a diplomatic hostage, anything happens to them, the truce was void and all out war would ensue on Earth.

Castiel was the obvious choice for Heaven, believing his close relationship with the brothers could be exploited. He was also granted the ability to freely go between Heaven, Hell and Earth.

What Heaven didn’t expect was his continued loyalty to the Winchesters after they became demons, informing his angelic brethren he refused to be a spy, saying he was neutral like Swedish fish.

Sam’s choice was controversial. He eventually convinced Heaven it was in their best interest for The Cage to be interred there. If it’s corrupted inhabitants were to escape, well, they’d be Heaven's problem to deal with.

Sam then eradicated all of Lucifer’s remaining followers, permitting Dean a public display of what would happen to those who challenged his reign.

***

Dean walked in to find the angel on his bed, casually reclining against the large headboard reading an ancient scroll.

“What are you doing in my bed Cas?”

“Waiting on you Dean.”

Dean’s talented tongue peaked out as he toed off his boots and climbed up onto the bed, crawling across to straddle the angels thighs leaning towards him, “Should've sent for me…” Castiel placed a firm hand in the middle of Dean’s chest halting him.

“I’m not here for that and have no intention of fornicating with you.”

“Come on, play with me Cas, you know you’re dying to know what it’s like to have a big cock deep down your throat,” Dean, using his whiskey roughened tone, blinks slowly as his sexy, makes women instantly wet smile graced his plush lips, “or would you prefer I slip it up that tight ass of yours, help you release those pent up frustrations? If you really wanna try it, experiment on me.”

“You're trying to provoke me only because you are frustrated,” Dean’s expression turned frosty, “but I have found information that will lead us to what you’ve been searching for,” Castiel holds up the scroll for him to read.

Dean takes the scroll from him frowning, “What language is this shit?” He asked, sliding off Cas onto the bed.

“An obscure form of an unpronounceable language. It has taken me the better part of the year and I called in several favors to gain access to Metatron. After persuading him to translate what he could of it, I have now obtained the location of the Regina Coeli.”

“Who?”

“The Queen of Heaven? You want me to take the Virgin Mary as my consort!”

Incredulousness was written on Sam’s face as he looked between Dean and Cas as they sat across from him in his private receiving room.

“I can just see it Sammy, you and the blessed mother. Damn, if we weren’t already in hell.” Dean smarted off, earning “It’s Sam,” and bitchface #127 in response.

Castiel released a long-suffering sigh at his friend's inappropriateness.

“No Sam, I was not referring to her nor the ancient sky goddesses erroneously given the illustrious title,” Cas points to a nondescript illustration of a woman seated upon the throne of Heaven, “I am referring to the one true queen God himself chose to rule over all of his domains in his stead.”

“Chuck's firstborn was an Archangel girl? What’d she do to piss off dear old dad, take the family car without permission for a joyride?” Dean's joke falls flat.

“The translation was vague on the specifics but she is not an Archangel, more of a composite, created from the Light and the Darkness. The rumors indicate she took the Darkness’s side in a disagreement between them. God banished her here as punishment with the stipulation that only a descendant of the First Ones of Father can lay a claim for consort and make her their queen.”

“First Ones? I thought those were the Archangels,” Dean asked, giving Cas a confused look.

“According to the eldest demons Lucifer did try on more than one occasion. Obviously, he was not the one nor any of the other rulers that followed.”

Traveling into the labyrinth beneath the Citadel, Castiel led them through an ancient part of the Underlands neither brother knew existed and stopped in front of a nondescript wall.

Dean cocked his head to the side scrutinizing it, “Fandamntastic wall Cas.”

“Yes, it is.” The Angel replied and walked through it.

Dean reached out his hand coming into contact with the solid surface, “The fuck?”

Castiel’s upper torso reappeared, “Coming Sam?”

Sam shrugs and stepping forward is pulled in. He finds himself in a large catacomb, torches placed statically around to illuminate it. He turns to ask Cas where they are and stops.

In the center sits a raised, polished, black marble obelisk.

Sam stands in front of it studying the carved inscriptions in the same language as the scroll. “It’s a nice piece of marble Cas.” He comments unimpressed.

Castiel did something strange. He smiled at Sam, a full on grinning like the Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland smile.

Sam’s ingrained hunter’s instincts kick in before his eyes shift to their onyx color, using his demonic powers to scan the area around them searching for an immediate threat but encounters something unexpected.

“I have been waiting a long time for you.”

Sam found himself standing in an expanse of pure white, it’s vastness of nothing surrounding him. There is the barest of sounds behind him and in what was empty space seconds ago now sits two high backed thrones. One is from illustration on the scroll, the other his. Sam wonders how he missed the fact they were matching except for color.

Drawing up to his imposing height ready to defend himself he walks towards them cautiously. Sensing no imminent danger Sam takes a seat upon his and waits for what is to happen next.

Sam's eyes snapped towards a subtle sound of feathers rustling beside him. On the throne sits a woman staring at him.

“Are you the Regina Coeli?” Sam inquires in awe that she isn’t anything like he imagined.

Slowly blinking Y/C/E, she nods once.

“Why did you bring me here?” Sam gestures to the empty space surrounding them.

“It was necessary, I have no other way of communicating otherwise.”

Sam cocked his head unable to figure out how she is projecting her thoughts to him.

Long ago he learned how to shield himself from others when one of the late Princes of Hell tried using a telepath to oust him from the throne. It had taken ages for the cleaners to remove all the bits left after Dean eviscerated them.

She dropped her chin given him a coy smile, “It is because you were made for me.”

“What do you mean made for you? I don’t understand.”

“The one who can claim me as consort is descended from the First Ones of Father and that is you.”

“The First Ones were the Archangels.”

“The Archangels were created from The Nothing. The First Ones of Father were created on Earth.”

“The First Ones...you mean Adam and Eve?”

“Adam and Lilith.”

“They didn’t have any children before God cast Lilith out as a demon.”

“Yes, they did. You and your brother are their descendants.”

“We’re descended from Cain and Abel...”

“Who were Lilith’s offspring, not Eve. It is why those directly descended from her were marked for the Apocalypse.”

Sam ponders this information a while, yet another piece of the puzzle that was their lives clicking into place.

“Lilith possessed free will, unlike Eve. It was passed on to her descendants as punishment.”

“And has led you here to me.”

“What's your name? I can’t just call you Regina Coeli.”

“Father gave me no name like his son’s, he only called me daughter.” She told him sounding sad, “what name do you like?”

“You want me to give you a name?” She nodded eagerly waiting for his answer. Sam looked at her contemplatively never having had a favorite female name, the only one that truly mattered in his life was Dean.

“I’ll call you Y/N.”

She stood up and moved to stand in front of Sam.

“Before you commit to this, know that this is a symbiotic relationship, you won’t need to feed on demon blood anymore, we’ll feed off each other.”

Y/N produces a knife more delicate than Ruby’s and runs it across her wrist leaking some of her grace, and offering it to Sam, he takes her arm and sucks on the wound briefly.

“But there’s one stipulation....”

“Whatever it is you can have it.” Sam breaths out, his body craving more than just a taste of her grace.

“All domains are mine, including the Underlands, as decreed by Father.”

Sam's eyes shifted onyx with displeasure, “Hell is my domain and I don’t play well with others who try to subvert me.”

Y/N smiled mischievously and climbed onto his lap, “I freely give it to you but remember, the others are mine and I don’t play well either. Do you agree to my terms?” she retorts in a dark, cheeky manner. Sam picks up her long braid, playing with the trailing silver ribbons tied around its end.

“Agreed.”

Sam and Y/N stepped through the wall to find a relieved Dean and pissed off Castiel, who took his leave.

As they traveled back to the Citadel Dean couldn’t take his eyes off of Y/N. This would have normally angered Sam but she had informed him even though they were technically demons, Dean was still his soulmate so she could bond with him too if Sam wished.

After introducing her to the court, who insisted their bonding was completed in front of a witness, they retreated to Sam’s private chambers.

Dean moved in front of her, caressing her cheek and licked his plush lips, “She looks so sweet Sammy.”

Sam hums in agreement moving behind her drawing her flush against him and kissing along her neck asks, “You wanna taste Y/N Dean,” as he grips the material around her waist and lifts her dress upwards, slowly unveiling her body to his brother. Dean’s eyes dilate with hunger as it teasingly travels upward, revealing she is nude under it.

“Lift your arms,” Sam tells her and pulls it completely off, dropping it and resting his chin on Y/N’s shoulder and starts playing with her nipples as she wraps her arms behind his neck for balance, spreading her legs to give Dean access between them.

Dean dropped to his knees and looking to Sam for permission, runs his tongue over her outer lips, tasting that she’s already wet before parting them, making her quiver with pleasure.

“Dean loves the taste of pussy, he could eat you out for hours. Would you like that Y/N?” Sam moaned at her response, “He will later,” reaching down gripped his brother's short hair tugging him back roughly, “it’s my turn now.”

Sam laid back on his bed high on her grace as Y/N straddles him, pinning his arms down next to his head and leaned in brushing her lips across his in a tender kiss.

“Keep your hands to yourself till I’m done with you.”

She kissed down the long line of his neck pausing below his tattoo to tease his left nipple with her tongue before biting down making him shiver in pleasure. Sam’s cock hardened even more as her lips, light as the dusting of a feather, traversed downwards over his abs halting at the v of his hips and gripping his cock in her hand dipped the tip of her tongue into his slit, tasting precum pearling out before taking just the head into her mouth sucking on it, her tongue over moving in random patterns over the sensitive nerves underneath it.

Sam groaned in pleasure feeling the sweetest sting of the blade along the crease of his leg, his hot blood pulsating to the surface. He watched as she released his cock, lowering her head and, without breaking eye contact, licked along the flowing wound, tasting his deliciously tainted blood.

Y/N continuously moved her hands over every bit of his skin she could reach while nursing at the wound. Sam started feeling light headed from being drained but at the same time euphoric with desire as he unabatedly cums on his stomach.

Dean, writhing in his seat observing them, presses down on his cock to deny himself cumming watches Y/N using her tongue to clean Sam’s spending's as he’s still spurting.

Resting her head on his hip Y/N asks Sam something making him smile, “Y/N wants to know if I will allow you to join us now,” his eyes telling Dean to hurry the hell up and get naked.

He strips in record time, climbs on the enormous bed straddling him behind Y/N, teasingly rubbing his cock through her folds. “How do you want us sweetheart? You want Sammy’s unrelenting cock pounding this scrumptious pussy and me down your throat?” Dean strokes her throat, “How about both us in your tight cunt, ravaging it together?” He trailed his left hand down Y/N’s torso and inserted two of his thick fingers in her feeling her clenching.

“Or maybe prefer me here,” tapping his cock head against her tight little hole before slipping his dripping tip in past the tight ring of muscle making her jolt then quiver with pleasure as she pushes back till he’s fully seated in her.

“That’s it, get nice and stretched out on my cock,” Dean bit his lip moaning as she worked herself up and down on him, “ ‘cause once Sammy’s been in here, you’ll know it for a long time.

Sam, unwilling to wait any longer, grabs his self and pushes in next to Dean’s thick fingers, ramming his massive cock into her drenched cunt, forcing her to stretch around him and not stopping until he was balls deep in her. Y/N gasped silently, overwhelmed by the sensations she hadn’t felt in millennia.

“Easy there tiger, we have eternity to play with our new toy.”

Forever tags: @donnaintx

#all saints day reblog #boyking!sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x y/n #supernatural #knightofhell!dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #supernatural au #dean winchester x reader #knightofhell!dean winchester x reader

[rexcoatlarchive]

Cancun chaos festival

A/N: Another story in the multi-class series. This one's unique in that it not only serves as a story about Quetz gaining another class, but it's also set up for a fan made event. Decided that it'd be fun to also include @panyum 's Ayako in here for more mastersona fun.

The wandering sea received a transmission of a new singularity happening. This one was detected in Cancun, Mexico. The two masters of chaldea were sent in along with some servants to help deal with it.

When arriving the two masters along with their servants found themselves to be in an airport. As it was summer and they were going to Mexico, they dressed appropriately.

Rex: weird we found ourselves in an airport. Kind of reminds me of the Hawaii incident.

Ayako: ugh, don't remind me. That was hell, having to repeat the same week over and over again.

Rex: hopefully this won't be so bad.

Quetz: si! We'll solve the issue here in no time! And hopefully we can have fun too!

Quetzalcoatl was dressed in bikini with a Mexican flag design on the top. And a white skirt wrap covering the bikini bottom.

Ayako: Quetz you seem different? I can't put my finger as to why tho.

Quetz: I actually had my spirit origin altered to saber class since it was finally my turn to enjoy summer!

Rex was silent, he started dumbfounded at his wife. She looked amazing in her bikini. He couldn't take his eyes off of her.

Ayako: *noticing Rex staring* huh? Oh of course he's staring. Hey! Earth to Rex! *starts snapping her fingers*

Rex: huh! What is it?

Ayako: could you focus for a minute. You don't need to keep staring at her.

Rex: hey it's not my fault she's so breathtaking. Besides don't act like you haven't stared at the count when he's in his summer clothes.

Ayako: hey! Don't try to turn this around on me!

Dantes: are you all talking about me?

The count came in while wearing said summer clothing.

Ayako: it's nothing. Let's just get this over with.

Rex: we still have to wait for one more.

Ayako: oh yeah, your happy accident.

Kuku: hey! Who you calling an accident?!

Kukulkan came in wearing her own summer clothes. A simple black and gold bikini. Her spirit origin was also altered, but for some reason she came out as an assassin

Rex: ok it seems like everyone we came with is here. So now we can get started

Ayako: hey, how's it feel with another version of your wife?

Rex: real interesting I'll say that much. But you know, we might be able to do the same for you

Ayako: what are you talking about?

Rex: well I mean, the count was a very different person pre-impressonment. Maybe a pre Avenger version of him can be summoned.

Dantes: ok, could you cease this foolish discussion.

As the group talked they noticed a familiar looking person about to exit the airport.

Ayako: hey, whose that?

Dantes: it would seem to be black beard.

Ayako: ah. Forget I noticed him, and let's move on.

Rex: hey wait a second let's actually talk to him he might know something about this singularity we're dealing with.

Ayako: but of all servants! Why did it have to be him!

Rex: I'll do the talking so you don't have to. Heyyo Teach!

Black beard heard this and turned to look at the group.

Black beard: oh hey Master! Fancy seeing you here! You guys finally participating in another Servant festival again?

Rex: well actually we were here to deal with a singularity.

Black beard: really? That's odd.

Ayako: yeah, real strange. Can we go now?

Rex: can you chill?

Black beard: anyways I can't talk I'm actually running later then normal, I'll see you all later.

Rex: huh, not like him to be late to this stuff.

Ayako: why'd it have to be servantfes again? Hated the last one.

Rex: I mean I doubt BB is gonna force us into another time loop.

Ayako: you're jinxing us!

Rex: oh you know that's bullshit!

Quetz: can you two please calm down. We'll make sure the situation is handled.

Rex: Quetz is right. We need to thi-

But before Rex could finish that thought they heard a voice yelling

Black beard: What the hell!?

Rex: oh shit, it seems somethings wrong.

The group runs outside only to see chaos. The city of Cancun was being run amok. Criminals were running around causing chaos. Monsters were attacking innocent people.

Ayako: holy crap!

Rex: what happened?!

Black beard: that's what I'd like to know!

As the group witnessed the chaos, the masters' communicators started up

Da Vinci: it seems we've finally started communications.

Ayako: Da Vinci do you have any idea what's going on?

Da Vinci: why yes I do dear Ayako. It seems an Avenger class divine spirit origin has been detected. It's likely they are the cause of all this pandemonium.

Kuku: you have any idea who it might be?

Da Vinci: it seems to match up with the mesoamerican moon goddess Coyolxauhqui.

Quetz: you've got to be kidding me!

Dantes: Another case of family drama it seems.

Ayako: the last time we had to deal with issues in Mexico it related to Quetzalcoatl too. I think it's safe to say this is what we should be expecting from now on.

Quetz: so if my sister is the cause then I guess I'll make sure I'll handle this personally!

Rex: we were going to do that anyways but I guess it is more personal now.

Quetz: this is actually a good opportunity!

Rex: huh?

Quetz: the people are in despair, villains and monsters are causing chaos. They need a hero! And I'll be that hero!

After she said this she changed her Ascension. Now all of a sudden she was clad in what looked to be a Super hero costume. She wore a red leotard with a green feathered serpent emblem on the chest. She had red knee length boots with a green trim, and matching elbow length gloves. She also adorned a red lucha style mask with green trimming near the eye and mouth holes. And to top it all off a flowing red cape.

Rex: Holy Crap!

Quetz: now Quetzal Woman is here!

Ayako: ok, what the hell!? A super hero?

Quetz: si! Me and mi amor were watching super hero films and I decided I wanted to be one myself. I had Da Vinci create this costume and now I can put it to use.

Dantes: seems a bit ridiculous if you ask me.

Rex: don't listen to him Quetz. I think it's perfect!

Quetz: gracias mi amor!

Kuku: so you're going to play hero while fighting sis?

Quetz: si! And you'll be my sidekick!

Kuku: huh!? I never agreed to that!

Quetz: oh come now Kukulkan! At least help out

Kuku: I'll help out but why as your sidekick?

Quetz: oh come on! I even had a costume made for you!

Kuku: seriously!?

Quetzalcoatl held out another costume. A black and gold costume that matched hers.

Kuku: I'm not wearing that! I'll do this my own way!

After she said that she ran off on her own. Much to the frustration of the group.

Quetz: eehh!? What's wrong with the costume?

Rex: well maybe it's not her style?

Quetz: I thought it looked good.

Ayako: man this is annoying.

A/N: there's the story for now. Like I said at the beginning it basically functions as the set up for my own made up event. I will come back to this soon, to expand more on summer Kuku since this mostly focused on summer Quetz. I won't do a whole event's story for now, but I am considering coming back and doing more for this story.

Tag time! @panyum @grievouslyxorvia @hasishtardoneanythingwrong @hasereshdoneanythingwrong @haspaulbunyandoneanythingwrong @hasabbydoneanythingwrong @castlecsejtespeakertechnician @gxymlky

#fate grand order #quetzalcoatl #wife #kukulkan #ayako #edmond dantes #rexcoatl #rex #leonardo da vinci #coyolxauhqui #summer