#and the ranger left the other car in the dust

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Breakin’ Up With a Broken Heart

From: Bigger Houses Series

Pairing: (Future) Mountain Ranger! Ari Levinson x Reader, mentions of past ex x reader

Summary: A year after a breakup that left you shattered, you’re ready to start life anew in your secluded Colorado mountain cabin. Just when you swear off love is when a new beast crosses your path.

Word Count: 1,896

Content/Warnings: Mentions of heartbreak, in-depth description of a breakup and feelings regarding that, safe driving in juxtaposition to a reckless person, deep introspection, enjoyment of mountain cabin vibes, lmk if I missed any

Author’s Note: This serves as a lot of exposition for what I hope will be a very lovey story; everyone knows you’ll probably face some heartbreak first. Also, yes, this is heavily based on my first heartbreak. What about it? Anyway, please enjoy the start of this long-anticipated fic. Likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are appreciated more than you know. And in case you didn’t hear it yet today, I love you.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

I STRONGLY suggest listening to this song, not just because it’ll help get across the vibes I’d like, but also because it’s a really good song.

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Next >

Your break-up

It’s been months since you walked out on him and left town in a cloud of dust. It didn’t end well, but you’d be lying if you said you thought he was right for you.

One year ago

It ended in a text. Nine months gone in a text.

I’m done.

To which you responded: You mean our relationship? Ok.

It was honestly a relief. You had been looking for a way out, but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Maybe a part of you wondered if someone would ever want you that much again, even though he only ever showed it in words and not action. Your head was okay with the situation, but it seemed your heart didn’t get the memo. Even though it ended by what you considered a mutual agreement (if that’s what you call him dumping you over you not visiting on a weekend you were spending with your family since he didn’t prioritize anyone’s time but his own), it still hurt. Three days later, he posted a pic with a new girl and a new car the same price as the ring you two had looked at.

He was a textbook narcissist with mommy issues, how’d they always find you? It was the kind of relationship where three months in, you should’ve ended it, but stuck around for another six. It was full of late-night calls, but not even the good ones. These were the ones that happened because he never seemed to have time for you during the day. The attention seemed good at first, but the calls would leave you tired the next morning, unable to get up as early as you wanted to so you could be productive. And you couldn’t talk to your mom and sister about it. They hated him. They saw through his selfish behavior before you and you wish you would’ve listened before giving him everything you could, which still wasn’t enough.

He said he wanted to get married hardly a month in because he loved everything about you. At first, you thought it was a joke, but the more he said it, the more you somehow convinced yourself that was what you wanted, too, but it could not have been more far from the truth. You wanted a happy life with a partner, but not like that and not that fast. Well, was it too fast? Or did it just feel that way because it was with the wrong person? Plus, it was less of a partnership, and more of a continuous compromise put on your part. Either way, as time went on, you realized that every small conversation was leading to a fight and your work and other relationships were suffering from the time he expected of you, but never returned. All he did was expect you to give, not holding himself to that same standard, but for some reason, you kept holding on. You had even looked at rings, not committing, though, because he knew you’d want him to speak to your mother first and she would never go for it. So, the relationship continued to drag on until he got upset since you said no to him one too many times.

But that was so long ago now. You did your time crying, listening to all the sad songs, wondering where you could have possibly gone wrong until you had enough. The only thing you really did wrong was not trust your instincts. You went too far following his heart and not far enough with your own mind. Love can be cerebral, right? It should be. There was no reason to feel sorry for yourself, you were better off and doing all the things you wanted that he’d held you back from before. He had very evidently moved on, and so could you. Sick of feeling down in a town that only reminded you of heartbreak, you found what you needed right now: a new job and an open Zillow posting you’d been watching for forever: your ticket out.

You were taking a vacation to your brand new start, tears long gone and dried with the wind that blew through your hair as you drove through the wooded mountainside. The sun was warm on your face, all loneliness was left in the darkness you left behind. Boxes and bags graciously organized by your mom filled the back of your SUV, and her’s sat just as full, driving behind you up the mountain passes. Before you’d gotten up here, the two of you had stopped at the last gas station, filling up your cars, getting a couple snacks, and stretching your legs before the final couple miles upward. Standing outside your cars gassing up, she looked over to you.

“Hey, just a reminder to be careful in the mountains. You don’t know what’s up there. Mountain lions, bears, snakes.”

“Oh my” you said giggling at your own Wizard of Oz reference.

She smiled and rolled her eyes at you “haha, very funny, but I’m serious. Not just about living there, but driving, too. You never know when a deer could jump out.”

You’d heard this a thousand times, being from wooded, albeit less dense, areas before. Plus, your mom was always concerned about you. Perks of growing up with a dad who was never really present. All of her focus could go to you. Never seeing a proper model relationship was probably half of the reason you had gotten into this mess, too, but you’d never blame that. She’d given you all she could and done a darn good job raising a driven, successful daughter (in every aspect except romance). You were eternally grateful for her support of moving where you had always wanted. It was honestly the perfect opportunity. Once the pumps clicked and the gas was finished, you both prepared to hop back into your cars.

“And remember, don’t talk to strangers.”

“Mom, we’re driving. I doubt we’ll run into anyone else up there.”

She shrugged and you responded with a small smirk, shaking your head as you put the keys in the ignition.

Back to driving higher and higher in elevation, you were drumming your fingers on the dashboard to the songs on the radio that you had blasting. Benefit of driving alone: no interrupted music. As you kept going, the road was becoming narrower and windier, pairing with the dimming afternoon sun. As you were rounding a big bend, you saw something step out into the road and you immediately swerved around it to avoid crashing, pulling over onto the side right after. What was that? A bear? A deer? No, not a deer, too tall. Your mom pulled over right behind you and rolled down her window as you got out of the car and walked back to hers to fill her in.

“What happened?”

“Something stepped out into the road. I’m not sure what it was.” A tall man with cascading brown hair and a full, fitting beard stepped into your vision through your mom’s passenger window. “Or should I say someone. I’m gonna go talk to him, make sure he’s okay.”

“Alright, kiddo. Be careful, though. I’ll be right here.”

You stood up from leaning against your mom’s driver side door and made your way around the front of the car, your eyes drifting upwards from the ground to a narrow waist and broad shoulders, chest rising and falling with deep breaths, eventually meeting with the most gorgeous pair of ocean blues. All these features belonged to the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, but that didn’t excuse the fact that he ran out into the middle of the road and could’ve killed either of you.

Caught off guard by the whole situation, your brain defaulted to panic and defensive mode.

“Oh my gosh! I thought you were a bear! I almost hit you!”

The man looked at you with wide eyes and simply blinked, unable to form a response until he stuttered out

“I-it’s really my fault. I’m not sure what I was thinking.”

Even when evidently distracted and out of it, he was still insanely attractive, making you grow more anxious by the second under his intense stare and scrutinization as he continued to stand there, taking you in and then catching himself and looking anywhere else. You were self-conscious of your hair that was tucked under a beanie to combat the cold mountain air and likely disheveled from your long day. He was obviously in a state where arguing wouldn’t benefit either of you, and honestly, you were in the same boat, ready to get to your new home and start unpacking. The sun was starting to set already and you definitely didn’t want to be out after dark, plus you knew the exhaustion from the drive would be catching up soon.

“Um, it’s ok, I just think you need to be more careful next time. Listen, I don’t wanna be pulled over on this stretch of road for too long, God forbid a real bear, or someone without good reflexes comes around, but, I’m glad you’re not hurt. Take care.”

Wanting to avoid any more awkward interactions and the opportunity of embarrassing yourself in front of an adonis, you rushed back to your car and started back up the mountain. You could see the image of the man in your side mirror getting smaller, his gaze still fixed on your car, until you turned and lost sight of him.

Once you pulled into your new home, your mom met you with a suitcase, ready to take the stairs to the entrance.

“Well he was cute, albeit a little reckless. Wonder what was going on”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever see him again, though. Maybe that’s for the best. I don’t need to make a habit of almost hitting things when driving around up here.”

You unlocked the door and held it open for your mom as she walked in and turned back to look at you. “Well, by the looks of how small this town is, you might. And once you figure out whatever’s going on in his head, maybe he’ll be a nice new friend to have up here.”

“Um, yeah, I guess. Maybe. After all this time, I think I’ll need a friend. Someone to restore my hope for humanity.”

You tried to lighten the mood regarding your distaste for others that had grown from feeling so deeply betrayed and your mom gave a knowing glance in response. But it seemed there was something more to it. It was knowing in more ways than one, hardly noticeable, as you turned to go get another load to bring in from the trunk.

Your mind raced with thoughts of having to get all of this junk into the house. You stepped out into the crisp mountain air, admiring the deepening blue sky and unobstructed stars, the darkness in contrast to the way your mood had brightened slowly from something similarly dark over the past year, becoming more like the stars that glowed in the beautiful night ski. As you trotted down the stairs, your tried to convince yourself that being here was going to be everything you hoped for yourself and your future ticket to happiness. That the last thing on your mind was love.

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#Ari Levinson #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson x reader #mountain ranger! ari #mountain ranger Ari x reader #mountain ranger! Ari x reader #Red Sea diving resort #Chris Evans #bigger houses #bigger houses series #chapter 1 #bigger houses chapter 1 #bigger houses chapter 1 breaking up with a broken heart #breaking up with a broken heart #Dan and Shay #dan + shay #Spotify #SoundCloud

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Very first time; Jack Kline x reader smut

*Author’s note*

Okay well this has been sitting in my inbox collecting dust for awhile but after a few weeks of work and planning (and some major procrastinating) I FINALLY came around and got to this request so @gabrielasilva1510​ this is for you and thank you for being soo patient with me.

Now this is a SMUT fic so there is some sexual content in here so any minors that follow me LOOK AWAY!!!! DO. NOT READ THIS STORY!!! it’s not hardcore smut but still a smut story nevertheless.

Warnings: sexual content, fluff, camping fun, P in V sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), references to other fandoms and movies. 

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@queen-paladin​

@queensdivas​

@gay-and-ready-to-cry​

__________________________________________________________

I was putting the sleeping bags as well as the tent set into the jeep while Jack was coming in bringing the cooler with the drinks.

“You sure the drinks won’t get warm on the way up there?” he asked me.

“Babe that’s why we’re getting ice at the gas station. Besides this jeep needs gas too while we’re at it because somebody forgot to fill the tank!” I proclaimed while turning to Sam.

“Okay how long are you gonna hang this over my head?”

“As long as it takes. You know how many times Dean and I have told you about that? Whoever gets the gas tank under a 100 miles, fills the tank.”

“See even she can remember the rules.” Said Dean coming in eating a ham, turkey, pastrami and bacon sandwich he had made. Sam rolled his eyes and I said after closing the back door.

“Okay I think that’s everything.”

“So we can leave now?” asked Jack excitedly. I nodded.

“I still don’t feel comfortable with you two going on this camping trip by yourselves.” Dean said.

“Dean, just because many of our early cases took place during a camping trip doesn’t mean it’ll happen to us. Unlike those guys, we know the warning signs for Wendigo’s, werewolves, vamps and even faeries.” Dean glowered at me at mentioning the fairy thing to him.

“Did you at least pack the basic protection?” Sam asked.

“And not just against monsters.” Dean added. My face went red and Jack started to say.

“You mean protection as in con—”

“Do you really need to say that Dean? We’re not gonna do anything like that!”

“Can’t go wrong. Plus I don’t want you coming back and making us uncles just yet.”

“Jesus you are such a pervert.” I groaned.

“But seriously (Y/n), you do have some form of protection? In both matters.” Sam asked me.

“Yes Sam and please don’t agree with Dean about the latter suggestion.” He raised his hands in surrender. “Okay Jack get in the car, we’re outta here.” He did as I told him and I got into the driver seat and started the engine.  “See you bitches in a week. And do me a favor, don’t blow this place up while we’re gone or have another end of the world crisis on our hands.”

“We’re Winchesters, we make no such promises.” Dean said as he munched on his sandwich once again.

“Have a good time you two, be safe.” Sam told us.

“Yes Ranger Sam.” I teased before putting the jeep into drive and soon Jack and I left the bunker garage and drove down the road to the nearest gas station to get ice as well as fill up the car.

After doing all that and filling the cooler with ice for the drinks, I got back into the jeep and started up the engine.

“Okay Jack, since we’ve got full control over the radio, what genre of music shall it be today?”

“I did enjoy that 80’s playlist you made. Especially after you showed me that show Odd Things.”

“You mean Stranger things babe. Alright 80’s it is.” I went through my phone and opened up my music playlist and scrolled through until I found my 1980s Greatest songs playlist.  Sure Dean may say that everything after 1979 sucks, but he clearly hadn’t heard some of these artists like Kate Bush, Prince, Queen’s later music in the 80’s, Whitney Houston, A-Ha, and of course my man Phil Collins.

I first played the song ‘In the Air tonight’ to get us started on the open road.  Jack particularly began to realize why I loved Phil Collins so much.  Yeah he was cool in his Genesis days but when he branched out into his solo career, the dude truly shined.

After an almost 2 hour drive and almost reaching the end of our playlist with Cyndi Lauper we arrived at the camp grounds.  I parked the car and both Jack and I got out of the car and stretched ourselves out before entering the check-in lodge before we had to drive to our reserved camping spot.

“Good afternoon, how can I help you?” the woman behind the desk said.

“Hi we’re checking into lot A113, reservation is under Winchester.” She typed up my reservation on the laptop and said.

“(Y/n) Winchester?”

“That’s me.”

“Great, and you’re staying with us for a week. Here’s a map of all the areas you can hike, or visit the various lounges or restaurants we’ve got here. And for staying here a week with us that’ll be $210.25 will that be cash or credit?”

“Credit, please.” I said getting out my card and handing it to her.  A quick swipe and the payment was done.

“Okay you are all set. Hope you and your boyfriend have a good time.”

“Oh we will, especially after the few months we had. We deserve this.” I said putting my card away and gathering up the stuff she had handed me.  I saw Jack admiring some of the portrait paintings along the wall and took his hand. “C’mon babe, let’s get to our spot and set up camp.” He nodded and I guided him out the lodge and we went back into the car.

I turned the engine on and drove off towards our camping spot.  Good thing about this camp ground is that while we are out in the woods, there was still access to bathrooms, showers, and of course food joints and restaurants. Plus everyone has their own private little spot to make their camp so no one has to be cramped in a giant forest space.

Jack and I looked around until he spotted the signs that lead us to our section and as we drove down the trail I softly let out a yes as I fist bumped.

“Thank god the showers aren’t that far away.”

“That’s a good thing right?”

“I mean I don’t mind the walk but still, it’s better for night time shower people like me. I mean seriously I don’t get why people shower in the mornings, you’re just gonna get sticky and gross at the end of the day and I don’t wanna sleep like that.”

“That is strange. Glad you told me about it when I was first trying to understand the ways of humans.”

“There are certain things my brothers can teach you but everything else, just ask me. I got your back.”

“Just as I got yours.” He said as he placed his hand on top of mine.  I smiled and gave it a loving squeeze as he pointed out.  “Is that us?”

“Uhh yeah this is us.” I turned along the gravel road and pulled into our little hill mound parking spot and turned the engine off.  “We’re here at last. No more driving for the rest of the day please.”

“You know I could’ve drove us from the check-in lodge. Dean says I’ve been improving with Baby.”

“I know you have sweetie but driving Baby and driving this jeep are two totally different things. Plus you haven’t gotten enough experiences on dirt road like these. All the bumps, twists and turns and I’m not that good of a driving teacher. As I’m sure my brother told you, I was a wreck when learning to drive Baby. Can’t do a stick to save my ass.”

“It’s not that hard once you get used to it. Maybe I could teach you.”

“As sweet as that is, one Dean would never let you do that and two I don’t want to ever drive Baby again.” I pecked his cheek and continued, “C’mon, let’s unload the car.” We unbuckled ourselves and got out of the jeep as I opened the back door and first grabbed the cooler while Jack grabbed the tent.

After unloading the car and unfolding the tent from the bag, Jack got the bag that was filled with the tacks and poles that we needed to keep the tent in place and standing up.

“Okay so—I’ve never really put a tent up before but I have seen people do it in tv and movies. Is it really as hard as they show it?” asked Jack.

“Depends on the tent, luckily for us this tent it’s fairly easy to put up. Mind helping me spread out the tent first before we get the poles and tacks down?” he nodded and came over and went on the other side of the tent.  Together we grabbed each end of the tent and pulled it as far apart as we could.  “Okay now grab that bag with the poles and tacks.” He looked around until he saw just a few feet to his left was the bag.

He tossed it over to me and I opened it up and pulled out the poles first.

“Now what I want you to do is connect this set first and I can do the other set. Once they’re connected, I’ll show you how to put them through the tent.” He grabbed the first set of poles and began to connect them together while I did the second row.

“Like this?” he showed me after he had gotten one set together already.

“That’s it. Make sure they’re in as tight as you can get them. Can’t risk the tent caving in on itself.” I said as I twisted my set in before they finally connected with each other.

It took a few minutes but we finally got our poles connected and then I showed him where the poles would go through the tent. We did his connected set first and I guided it through the right side of the tent, going towards the top and then coming down the other side before sticking it down into the earth.  We did the same for the other side (that’s where the major work comes in cause you have to guide it over the previous pole set).

“You sure you weren’t lying when you’d say it’d be easy?” Jack said with a grunt as he tried to maneuver my pole set over his at the top each time I pulled the second pole down.

“This is always the tricky part no matter what. But trust me Jack, I’ve seen tents so complex to build up I’m surprised they’re not banned from camping gears. Don’t worry we got this, just a little more……” finally I managed to get the starting point out the end of the tent and stick it into the earth as well.  “There we go. Now for the tacks to make sure they stay down.”

I jogged back over to where I had the bag and pulled out the tacks as well as the mini-mallet that came with it.  After setting each tack down, I told Jack to get the rain roof to go on top of the tent just in case it rained (there was a chance in the next couple of days but it’s better to get it out now rather than later).

He went back to the tent back and pulled the tarp-like roof from the bag and together we worked to maneuver around the tent to place the rain-proof roof on top of the tent.  Once it was one, we stepped back and we wrapped an arm around each other and I said.

“We did it babe. Our home for the next week.”

“I can’t wait to sleep in it. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like sleeping in a tent after you showed me that camping episode from your favorite childhood show.”

“Well let’s get the sleeping bags and all the other stuff inside and you can see for yourself.” We walked over and grabbed the sleeping bags, pillows, blankets, and our backpacks.  I unzipped the circular door and once the flaps came down I bowed and said.  “Right this way good sir.”

“Thank you.” He said with a bow of his head before getting in with me following suit.

Some would call it overboard since this tent is said to fit five people but I wanted Jack to have the full experience of being in a tent.  And just seeing his face in full awe as he looked around.

“It’s almost like being in a cave. And not like those Wendigo ones either.” I nodded.

“It’s got where it counts. But if it’s too much I can send this back and just get a two person one.”

“No please don’t. I love it. Very spacious, plenty of space for all our stuff. But can also be intimate for snuggling together.” Jack said as he came up close to me, wrapping his arms around me.  I smiled as he buried his face into my neck.

“Okay sweetie, let’s find a spot in this cave of ours to put our sleeping bags at.” We crawled through the tent and decided that our bags could be spread out in the middle of the tent.  Our backpacks could go right up at the wall where our heads would be.  We set the backpacks down before unrolling our sleeping bags and placing down our pillows and blankets.

“So what shall we do first?” Jack asked me with a smile as he padded his pillow.

“Well there’s a few things I’d like to get at the lodge like firewood and see if there’s any icebags they sell. I know our cooler is basically a thermos but you can’t be too careful especially with as long as we’re staying.”

“Okay so firewood and ice. Then what do you want to do?”

“This camping trip isn’t just about me sweetie. This is your first camping trip, what do you want to do?” I took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Can we go hiking?”

“Then hiking it is. Maybe we’ll even see some wild animals while we’re out and about.” He smiled and I could almost see my sweet baby boy bouncing on his knees.  “Now let me see, the lodge from our campsite is about how far?” I said as I took out the map from my pocket.  “Okay so we’re here,” I said pointing to our spot, “And the lodge is….” I trailed my finger upward until I saw the main lodge. “Oh sweet we don’t even have to walk very far. It’s just out of this reserved area and up a forest hill track and boom we’re there.”

“You seemed to have gotten us a lucky spot. You sure you didn’t check ahead of time?” Jack teased.

“Babe I swear, this was the only camping spot available at the time I was making the reservation.” Jack looked at me with a playful skeptical look but let it go.  “Okay go ahead doubt me, but they don’t call me (Y/n) ‘Lucky-shot’ Winchester for nothing.”

“Who calls you that?”

“Me. I do. And Charlie, and Jody, and the rest of the girls of the Wayward sisters. Dean calls it dumb luck but I have saved his ass more times than I can count. Plus some of my luck must’ve bounced off of them, with as many times as my brothers get knocked out. I’m surprised they still remember their own names.”

“They do get knocked out quite a bit.” Jack agreed.

“Right!?”

Once we got our backpacks packed with just enough stuff for the hike, Jack had decided to come up with me to get the firewood as well as see if there was an ice-dispenser up at the lodge.  After finding and purchasing a couple bags of firewood, we headed back to our campsite and Jack placed the two bags of firewood near the car while I opened up my bag and we began to place the wood into the firepit.

“When it gets dark, we can start the fire. They’ll be fine sitting in the firepit for a while. So shall we begin your first ever hike?”

“I hope I packed everything right. I triple-quadruple checked just like you told me.”

“Good boy. Oh before I forget, here.” I reached into my pack and pulled out a bag that contained some whistles and got two of them out.  “Put this around your neck.” I handed him the yellow whistle while I took the blue one.

“What do we need whistles for?”

“Well we can’t risk you using your powers in front of other people and freaking them out. So in the event if one of us gets lost, stay where you are, hug a tree and blow your whistle.”

“Okay I understand.” I patted his shoulder as he hung his whistle around his neck.  “Can we go now?” he said bouncing on his feet.

“Yes sweetie we can. Follow me first time camper.” I walked ahead with Jack walking close behind me and we proceeded towards the hiking trail.

Throughout our hike we would stop to take pictures of some beautiful landscapes, tightrope across logs, and even got to see a few animals. Like this one point in the hike we came across a cute rabbit.  Normally when a rabbit sees you, it wants to run but this rabbit as soon as it saw Jack, it got curious.

It hopped over to him and allowed Jack to reach out with his hand and gave him a sniff.  It even allowed Jack to stroke it’s back before taking off back into the woods.  Of course using my phone with it on silence, I snapped some good pictures of the encounter and promised to have those developed when we got home.

We even met up with some other hikers and found a special lodge where we could observe the local bears from a safe distance using binoculars.  And along the walls of the lodge were paintings as well as facts about bears that the kids could read.  And bless his heart, he shared with me all the facts he never knew about bears (even though I knew about most of them but I didn’t have the heart to stop him. He’s like a puppy).

For the rest of the day we hiked, had lunch, took photos and even talked with some other hikers until it started to get dark so Jack and I decided to head back to our camp for some supper as well as introduce him to the King of all camp snacks, S’mores.

We got back to camp and I started the fire while Jack got out the hotdogs, ramen, and smores stuff.  We ate our supper and just as it was starting to get darker, I thought it was now time for Jack to try his very first smore.

“Okay Jack, the perfect way to make a smore is this.” I said gathering the smore supplies.  “First you take the graham, and then you break apart a piece of chocolate. Then you stick the chocolate on the graham.” I said demonstrating the process, “then you roast the ‘mallow.” I said sticking my poker with the marshmallow into the firepit until it was burnt to a crisp. “Once it’s nice and crispy, you stick the mallow onto of the chocolate, then you take the other graham and smoosh it together. And last and certainly my favorite part.” I took a big bite before telling him with my cheeks stuffed with melted marshmallow, chocolate and graham crackers, “You stuff yourself!”

“I’ve always wanted to ask, why are they called that? Smores?”

“Because you always want some more.” He laughed at the corny joke.  “babe I swear, you’ll find out that it ain’t just a joke. Go on.” I handed him his poker as well as the marshmallow bag.

He did as I told him in the exact order it needed to be done but just before he took that first bite I told him to wait as I got my phone out and went to my camera and switched it to video.

“Trust me, I’m gonna wanna keep this. Okay take a bite now.” I said as I pressed the record button.  He lifted the smore to his mouth and took that first bite. Already his marshmallow oozing down his fingers as he tried to take in as much as he could without over stuffing his mouth.

I watched as his eyes widened and he let out a loud moan as he threw his head back.

“Didn’t I tell you? Makes you want to stuff like 10 of them after you eat your first smore.”

“This is…..” he chewed it up more before finally swallowing it and he continued, “This is the most delicious thing I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Even better than nougat?” I asked exasperatedly.

“You know nothing will ever take the place of nougat in my heart.”

“Damn and I thought I could convert you.” I said stopping the recording.

“Sorry sweetheart. I wonder what a smore would taste like with nougat.”

“You keep that blasphemous excuse of chocolate away from the sacred smores! They are made with Hershey’s milk chocolate bars and they shall stay that way!” I said defending my precious smores honor.

“I still don’t see why you hate nougat so much?”

“I told you it’s a disgusting, excuse of a chocolate bar! They make it look like a chocolate bar but they got in stuff that shouldn’t go together BLECH!!” Jack rolled his eyes.

“One day I’ll convert you to appreciate my lovely nougats.”

“The day that happens is the day that Rowena allows Hell for freeze over.” We continued to snack on the smores until we were stuffed and we decided that now would be a good time to shut ourselves in the tent for the night.

We safely disposed of the trash and put the food in the spare cooler and I locked it up tight so that no bears would come by. Jack doused the fire and I turned on the lantern as we entered inside the tent.  I hung the lantern on the little hook just above our heads and we got our sleeping bags ready for the night.

“Hey (Y/n).”

“Yes Jack?” I asked as I was spreading out my two fleece blankets over my sleeping bag.

“Guess what this is.” I turned towards him and saw him making shadow puppets using the lantern above us.  It was a long serpent like creature but it wasn’t a snake.

“A Chinese water dragon?”

“Right! Now you do one.”

“Okay but be warned I’m nowhere as good as you.” I clasped my hands together and raised up my right index and tall finger and bent them a bit for the antlers.  With the rest of my fingers I molded the face and nose and asked him, “Any guesses?”

“Those things on top are they—horns?”

“Close.”

“Oh no wait they’re antlers. Is it a deer?”

“Sure is.”

“Okay, okay my turn again. Umm…..Oh I got it! You won’t be able to get this.” I saw the silhouette of what almost looked like a musk ox but I knew it wasn’t.

For one it was even bulkier than the ones I’ve seen online, and the horns on it were way too long and swirled inward too much. I knew there was no way this was a ram due to its large size.  Until it finally hit me.

“Oh I know exactly what this is!”

“Do you?”

“Of course I do. What you don’t think I know a Tusken raider’s mighty steed the Bantha?”

“You’re good.” I shrugged cockily.

“Gave you your Star Wars knowledge, remember you must my young padawan.” I said in my best worst Yoda impression.  He laughed as he brought me in close to him, our hands intertwining with each other’s while his free arm stroked patterns on my lower back and my free hand rested on his knee.

We looked into each other’s eyes and I could feel my heart racing faster the longer I looked into his innocent yet striking blueish-green eyes.  He raised our intertwined hands up and placed my palm against his cheek before covering it with his own.

“(Y/n) I—I love you.”

“I love you too Jack.”

“No I mean. I like, really, really love you. So much so that I think I…..” I noticed how his adam’s apple slightly bounced as he swallowed anxiously and his jaw went tense as he turned away from me. In fact I could just see the poor boy tensing up.

“Jack, Jack look at me.” He hesitated but he turned his head back to face me.  I moved my hand to his jawline and stroked it gingerly.  “You know you can tell me anything right?” he nodded.

“I just……don’t want to scare you away.”

“Why would I be scared? Jack remember what we promised each other when we first started dating?”

“No keeping secrets like my brothers.” Jack repeated.

“Exactly. So c’mon out with it babe. What’s on your mind?”

“I…..” he sighed deeply but took another deep breath before saying. “As I said before, I really, really love you. And I know we talked about how far we want this relationship to go and you told me how when the time is right, we could—take things to the next step and……I want to do that.”

Oh……wow that’s—that is definitely something that should not be kept inside.  I mean we have been dating for the past 3 years now after 6 years of knowing each other. And yeah he’s not the only pure-white virgin of the team (I still got the dragon scar to prove that).

“Wow. Okay that—”

“I probably made things awkward now, didn’t I?” he groaned as he scooted away from me pacing around the tent.  “I’m such an idiot! Why did I have to open my big mouth and say that?! I—” I stopped him by grabbing his biceps and interrupted his ranting.

“Hey! Hey Jack! Jack!” he stopped to look at me. “To say I’m surprised that that is what you had buzzing around your brain for is a lot to take in. But I’m glad you told me. And I think we should sit down and talk so you hear what I have to say now.” He nodded nervously as we came back to our sleeping bags, the two of us sitting across from one another.

I took his hands and gave them a soft squeeze before starting.

“Jack. These past several years of knowing you have been—the best in my life. I have never felt this type of love towards any other guy. Now you know that I’m a virgin too right?”

“Yes that was the first thing you told me because you were worried I’d break up with you because you didn’t have experience.” My face flushed as I cleared my throat.

“Yeah because most guys prefer experiences and one night stands rather than taking care of their girl afterwards. But anyways the point is, with you—I felt like I was getting the perfect guy. Cute, brave, loyal, kind, funny, protective but not possessive, well-mannered. Some days I couldn’t believe just shortly after we began dating that you were real.”

“I care about you (Y/n).”

“And I care about you Jack. Which is why I think—no I know that I’m ready too.” His eyes slowly went wide.

“You—you are?”

“Yeah. Going on this camping trip without my brothers constant helicoptering or even Cas suddenly popping up before us, the fun we both had together and showing you what it meant to go on a camping trip I—I feel like I’m ready to take the next step, so long as you were.”

“Because consent goes both ways.” Jack said.

“Exactly. But there is one thing I am concerned about.” He tilted his head like a puppy before asking me.

“What?”

“Well we’re in a public campground. And yes although we have our private section we’re not entirely alone. Plus the rangers do their nightly patrol to make sure no troublemakers are out and about. And from what I remembering hearing all those girls with Dean. Don’t ask! I uhh—”

“I can take care of that.” This time I tilted my head and looked at him questioningly.  Of course I knew nephilims are powerful beings but what can we do that’ll not get us kicked out or worse scarring an innocent child?

His eyes glowed their sunshine gold for a few seconds before they phased back to his normal eye color.

“No one should bother us now. Whatever we do in this tent won’t be heard on the outside.”

“You made this tent sound-proof?”

“Yeah. Watch.” He then let out his angelic-like scream which sounded like a boat horn times 20.  I covered my ears until he stopped and he gestured for me to look outside the tent.  I went over to the door, unzipped it and peeked out and saw that no one had woken up, or started asking just what that unholy scream was.  I zipped the door backup and said.

“Wow. You never cease to amaze me.” He cutely shrugged as I sat back down in front of him wrapping my arms around his neck. “So….shall we get busy?” I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I would—like that. What do we uhh do first?”

“Well typically it’s best to get warmed up first before we get to the final stretch.”

“Warmed up? What you mean like exercise?” I giggled as I shook my head.

“No babe. I mean like making out. Touching each other, that kinda stuff.”

“So like what we normally do when your brothers aren’t around?”

“Bingo.”

“I already know some of the things you like, will that help?”

“Yeah. So—you ready Jack?” he nodded as I slowly leaned in and captured his lips with mine.

I felt his hands come up to cup my jawline as our kissed slowly deepened.  Our tongues coming together for a slow, passionate dance as I felt myself slowly being lowered down onto our sleeping bags and blankets.  After the need for air became too much, we separated from each other but our noses softly grazed against the other’s as our breaths danced across the other’s face.

“Can I take your shirt off?” he asked me.

“So long as I get to take yours off.” He nodded and I was the first to remove his shirt before he lifted mine off.  As soon as my bare upperbody (minus the bra I had on) was exposed to him, Jack almost seemed entranced.  He stroked through all the scars I’ve gotten over the years from various cases and points in my life.

“Did they hurt?” he said stroking the dragon scar I got when I was 14 years old.

“That one did for a while, others it just depended on how deep or dangerous the creature was.”

“It’s like a painting. Like connect the dots but with scars.” He said as he slowly traced over each scar then began connecting them into various shapes and patterns.  “Like the constellations in the night sky.” I felt tears in my eyes and even felt one slid down my face.  Before I could catch it, Jack’s thumb gingerly wiped it away as he hovered over me.

He once again captured my lips as his hands slowly trailed down to my chest just short of my bra.  I separated from his lips and whispered to him.

“Put your hands on me Jack.” He kissed my lips again as his hands were now on top of my boobs.  Gently and affectionately groping them through the bra which sent shivers down my spine.  I let out a soft moan as his lips moved from my mouth to the side of my neck.

I closed my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his frame and felt his lips kiss, nip and lick at my neck.  I gasped as he got a favorite weak spot of mine. Arching my back I reached behind and unhooked my bra exposing my bare breasts to the cool air but they were soon encompassed by Jack’s hands.

“They’re soft.” I heard him whisper in my neck.

“Would you like to kiss them Jack?”

“Is that what you want?” I nodded.  He kissed my shoulder before moving across my collar bone.  Slowly with each kiss he went lower and lower until he came to my right breast and began kissing it.

My eyes rolled in the back of my head as I stretched my arms out and gripped my pillow so tightly I could feel my nails through the sheets.  Jesus no wonder why those girls were always moaning in Dean’s room if this is what it feels like.  His lips soon encompassed my right nipple and I felt him gently suck on it which caused me to wrap my hands over his head to keep him there.  Stroking and even slightly pulling on his golden locks which caused him to moan.

And hearing him moan while he sucked on my nipple sent a pleasurable feeling down to my lower region.  After a few seconds he released my nipple before looking back up at me.  I adjusted our position so that I was now on top of him and began kissing his neck.

He let out a few choked gasps as I kissed lower down towards his chest before coming back up again.  His arms wrapped around me tightly as I nipped at the junction on the left side of where his neck and shoulder met.  After leaving a fairly nice little hickey I knew would form there, Jack and I stared at each other’s eyes once again panting softly.

“So we uhh—” he asked.

“If you wish to continue. Yeah we-we can.” I said clearing my throat as I was still slightly dizzy from the pleasure that had made me blind for a moment back there.

“Do I or do you remove our umm…..”

“It doesn’t matter, I guess I could do it if you’re comfortable with it.”

“Yeah. I trust you (Y/n).” I softly smiled and gently pecked his lips before I placed my hands at the rim of his sleep pants and looked at him one last time.

“You ready?” I asked him.  He nodded giving me consent before I reached in to not only grab his sleep pants but also his boxers as I slowly scooted them off his surprisingly silky-smooth legs.  Once they were off, I then reached for my own pants and underwear and slowly removed them until we were as naked as told in the tale of Adam and Eve.

“So I—guess I just….put it inside you?” he asked me.  “How do I know if I—”

“I think we’ll cross that bridge once we get there. Just….be gentle, okay?” he stroked a strand of hair out of my face.

“Always.” He pecked my lips once more before having me return on the bottom while he resumed his position on top of me.  Our foreheads pressed together as he leaned down and kissed me and I felt him enter inside me.

I let out a hiss of pain and let out a painful groan, he stopped and looked down at me concerned.

“Should we stop? I’m hurting you aren’t I? I swear I’m not trying to it’s just….”

“I know Jack. Just…..let me get adjusted. Keep still for a moment.” I eased his anxiety by cupping his face into my hands. He nodded and kept still as I told him while I got used to feeling him inside of me.  I took a few deep breaths before telling him, “Okay I’m ready.”

“You sure?” I nodded.  He slowly pushed further inside of me kissing my neck any time I groaned or hissed in pain.  His hands gently massaged my back and hips as he applied the right pressure to get my muscles to relax with each push he did.

Once we got pass the painful stage of the first time, there suddenly came a wave of pleasure as Jack slowly began pumping himself in and out of me.  My mouth opened in an O shape as I gasped and grunted and Jack did the same as he kept thrusting in and out.

“Oh Jesus! Oh Jack! Jack! Jack! Jack! Holy shit that fee-Ahh!”

“I know. It……it’s good for…..me too.” He said through his grunts.  We wrapped our arms around the other as we feverishly and passionately kissed each other. Our tongues dancing a sloppy dance as Jack continued to hit all the right spots.

“I—I’m gonna…..please Jack. Let us cum together!”

“Is-is that what—what that feeling is? Cause I UGH! I want to cum too.”

“Let us go—toge—together.” He nodded as he picked up the pace and our grunts and howls mixed in together until finally we came together.  Jack collapsed on top of me, his head resting on my shoulder while I kept my arms wrapped around him stroking through his hair.

He looked into my eyes as I felt him trembling under my fingers.  The small bangs on his head clung onto his forehead as small beads of sweat sat upon his brow.

“You’re trembling.” I whispered.

“I’ll be fine. Are you okay?”

“That was…..the second best thing I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.”

“What was the first?”

“Getting you into Star Wars.” We softly chuckled as I placed my hand on the back of his head, leaned it down so that I could kiss his forehead and he rested his head on my bare chest.

“Is this what it feels like afterwards? I think Dean called it afterglow.” Jack asked me.

“More or less. But it’s even better than I could imagine.” I felt Jack cuddle into my sternum and even giving my collarbone a soft kiss.

“You—don’t think your brothers are gonna find out about this, do you?”

“If they do, I’ll handle it. I’m not a little girl anymore so I can do whatever I want.” I kissed the crown of his head. “Hey get this,” he looked up at me, “Tomorrow at the lodge they’re having fantasy movie night and can you guess what they’re showing?”

“Star Wars?” I nodded. “Can we go see it? Can we, please? Please? Please? Please? Please?”

“Now how can I say no to this adorable face.” I said as I cupped his cheek.  We got back on our clothes before cuddling into our sleeping bags and snuggled them close together.  “G’night Jack.”

“Goodnight (Y/n). I—I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” I let out a deep sigh before succumbing to sleep.

#supernatural #supernatural imagine #jack kline #jack kline x reader #jack kline imagine #jack kline imagines #jack kline fanfic #jack kline fanfiction #supernatural imagines #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #sister winchester fic #dean winchester x sister reader #sam winchester x sister reader #jack kline smut #jack kline fluff #sam winchester imagine #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester imagines #sam winchester imagines #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader

[rhinozilla]

Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 7: Fake

@dbh-found-family

Don’t laugh.

Don’t laugh.

For the love of God, don’t laugh.

Hank hoped that putting that mantra on a mental loop would give him the strength enough to maintain his composure as he set eyes on Connor’s getup that evening.

“This looks ridiculous,” Connor was already complaining. “The goal of going undercover is to blend in and not be recognizable.”

Hank kept his hand flat over his mouth, covering the grin that was threatening to slip out. He surveyed his friend from head to toe, then back up to his face.

“Well…you are certainly not recognizable.”

Tonight’s stakeout was set at a truck stop just outside the city limits. A lot of rough-around-the-edges folks had made the Gas-And-Go station a hot spot for shady business and meetups. Intel from one of Hank’s old contacts had started to smell like a weapons trafficking ring was making the place a regular rendezvous point for deals. Now Fowler had given Hank and Connor the go-ahead to stake out the place and, if the intel proved good, to send Connor in undercover for some more up-close reconnaissance.

For Hank, this was not a big deal. Don’t shave for a couple days, dig out an old grungy hat to wear, and drive around a construction lot for a while to get a good coat of gravel dust on his car. Boom, he was invisible now.

For Connor, this really shouldn’t have been a big deal. How often had he mentioned that he was equipped with all kinds of appearance modification templates and software that allowed him to change his hair, eyes, facial structure, all the way to his freckle patterns and dental alignment? But all Hank could remember was that damn beanie that he’d worn to go “undercover” at Jericho during the revolution. Just a beanie and some of Hank’s clothes. And damn if it hadn’t worked.

But this wasn’t the chaos of an old freighter full of android refugees in the midst of a revolution. This was a small group of weapons dealers at some quiet, hole-in-the-wall gas station on the edge of town. It was going to take more than a beanie for Connor not to stick out like a sore thumb.

So he stood before Hank now in his best attempt…plus some of Tina and Chris’s input.

The work boots and jeans were fine. The unbuttoned green plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off was a bit much, as was the faded grey t-shirt underneath that had the emblem for the Mighty Morphin’ Power Rangers emblazoned across the chest. He’d programmed his hair to be longer, just past his ears, though it was all hidden under a nondescript dull red colored hat for some local body shop or other.

His LED had been painted over with makeup, and he’d done some modifying to his skin program, making him look tired around the eyes and with a fading bruise on his jaw.

“Well…you certainly don’t look like a cop,” Hank tried to compliment him.

Connor groaned and looked down at himself.

“This is not what I would have chosen to wear for this assignment.”

“That’s the point,” Hank said, gesturing toward the door to leave the bullpen and leading the way. “We aren’t Hank and Connor once we get in the car for this stakeout. We’re a couple of down-on-their-luck guys who are wary of the increasing crime rates around the city, and we want to score some illegal weapons from the guys rumored to be selling out at the Gas-And-Go.”

Connor was still grumbling as they left the station, and it was equal parts humorous and annoying.

“Didn’t they teach you all this in robot school?” Hank teased. “Where is all that bravado you had back when you were bragging about how you would be the perfect officer to go undercover?”

Connor slouched slightly as he walked, though Hank wasn’t sure if it was due to his mood or if he was trying out a different gait for tonight.

“The most undercover work that I’ve ever done in the field has been about infiltration,” Connor admitted. “Blending in for the purpose of passing under the radar and gaining access to difficult locations. Not…pretending to be someone I’m not for…direct interaction with suspects. I can do it, it’ll be fine, but I’m…admittedly a little nervous about maintaining this disguise believably.”

Hank tutted at that as they approached the Oldsmobile.

“Hey, coming up with an undercover persona is easy…and it’s fun. You’re being too grumpy about all this.” Hank popped open his driver’s side door, paused, and stared into the middle distance in thought. “Tonight…I’m Jake. I have a loving husband at home who doesn’t know that I lost my job six months ago. I’ve been hitting casinos to try and get fast cash to make rent and pay the bills.” He narrowed his eyes dramatically. “But my luck at the tables has been running out fast, and I borrowed some money from some bad guys who want their money back. Now I need some protection, and I need it cheap and off the books.”

Connor stared at him, slowly tilting his head as if looking at Hank for the first time.

Hank stared back at him, fully in character as Jake, before he straightened up and grinned.

“All right. Your turn,” he prompted.

Connor looked agonizingly self consciousness for a long moment, fidgeting before forcing his hands to still at his sides. He cocked his head, leaned forward, propped his forearm on the roof of the car, and looked at Hank solemnly.

“My name is…Franklin. I’m a rebel who doesn’t play by the rules of society—”

Hank snorted into a fist, leaning against the open driver door and pointing at him. “Holy shit, you CANNOT base your undercover persona on that duck you saw at the park last month.”

Connor blinked, frowned, and leaned further into it. “He was a dastardly mallard, Hank. He upset the hierarchy and…took frozen corn and peas that weren’t his to take.”

Hank laughed and kept a hold on the door for balance. Jesus Christ, it was almost hard to tell if Connor was being serious or just really taking the piss out of him right now.

“No, no, you can’t do that,” Hank cackled, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

Connor dropped the act with a scowl. “You said it was easy and fun—”

“Yeah, but you go in there calling yourself Franklin, and I’m gonna give us up by laughing too hard,” Hank chuckled. He gestured at him. “Go on. Try something else.”

Connor rolled his shoulders, still looking sour, before perking up with a new idea.

“I’m a recovering Red Ice addict. I’ve stayed clean for a year, but it’s been hard since my sister went missing. I work at a burrito shop during the day, and I pick up nightshifts at a local bar. I am…extremely popular with the ladies. My name is…Calvin.” He finished it off with a waggle of eyebrows and a wink.

It was horrifying and hilarious at the same time.

Hank pursed his lips hard against the grin fighting to escape, and he nodded.

“That’s…good. S’good.” He snickered and tapped the roof of the car. “We can workshop it on the way.”

He dropped down into the driver’s seat. Connor sat down in the passenger seat a beat later. He looked unhappy with Hank’s critique.

“Franklin wouldn’t have tolerated being spoken to that way.”

Hank snorted and started the engine. “Well, Franklin’s not coming tonight. So come on, Calvin, stop flirting with all the ladies and let’s go buy some illegal firearms. IT’S MORPHIN’ TIME!”

Connor looked at him flatly, and Hank gave him a shit-eating grin before reversing the car out of the parking lot, leaving Hank and Connor behind…so Jake and Calvin could hit the road.

#detroit: became family event #dbh connor #hank anderson

[gxbbyhoneybadger]

The Roundup #3

Pairing: Joel Miller x !F!Reader

Summary: The gang is rounded up at Bill's, afterwards, Ellie and Elliot both want the adults to work together, especially since Y/n knew the outside world much more but with much reluctance from her. Their journey continues onwards to find Tommy.

Warnings: Adult language, blood, guns & knives, tension, angst, character death (mention of suicide), flashbacks of childbirth, attempted SA, arguments.

Minors DNI 🔞 18 below the cut

Part I, Part II,

--

"I'll cut to the chase. I need a car." Joel said.

"Well, it is a joke. Joel needs a car. Well, if I had one that works, which I sure as hell don't, what makes you think I'd just give it to you? Huh? Yeah, sure Joel, go ahead, take my car. Take all my food too while you're at it."

"By the looks of it, you could stand to lose some of that food." Ellie said. "You listen to me, you little shit-!"

"No, fuck you! You handcuffed me-"

"I need you to shut up. Alright?" Joel said to Ellie.

"It doesn't matter anyway. Y/n is already getting a car battery as we speak. Probably heading back already-"

"Y/n? She's here?" Joel questioned. "Arrived here around two hours ago, two kids, one of them was brat like that one." Bill said as he glared at Ellie. "She's taking the truck and leaving."

~~~

Y/n successfully found a truck inside of a house after escaping that school of hell. "Fucking bloaters." She hissed while dusting herself off, until she looked up and saw corpse hanging from the ceiling. It was Frank. She knew him personally, he was the one who found her after she left Joel, Tommy, and her brother at the start of this apocalypse.

He was the one who delivered her to the Jaguar's. He was bitten all along his arms and shoulder, did Bill know about this? She shook it off and cut him down to get rid of the display. She was already prepared to leave the house and go pick up the kids, that was until she passed by a room.

A child's room. Specifically, a young boy's area. Old car blankets, blue lamp, old posters of cowboys and space rangers. A small baseball bat in the corner, she bit her lip to push back the memories creeping into her mind again. But she couldn't fight the pain that overwhelmed her sights.

~~~

"Look at our little fella!" Y/n's brother smiled as he watched her baby bump. "You're already attached to the baby and she's not even out yet, Alex."

"You're so sure it's gonna be a girl, I want a little nephew." Alex grinned as he held his hip. "I want a niece." Reuben yelled from outside. "Guys, we don't need to-"

"No, the baby needs a crib. I bought a pink one-"

"Alex!"

"I'm kidding. It's a white one, geez! Anyway, how far along are you again? Six months?"

"Eight months? But. . . I'm scared." Y/n mumbled. "Pft! Scared? The hell are you scared about?" Arthur asked as he entered the living room where Y/n and Alex stood.

"You know. . . The whole, raising a baby thing. And the birth part, what if. . . What if something happens to me? Or worse, the baby?! What if I can't raise it-?"

"Hey, hey hey, don't worry about that right now. Take one step at a time. You know, I was there for it all with mom. I know I'm perfect because I'm the first one." Y/n punched his shoulder which made him laugh. "Y/n, mom panicked too about having another kid. You know what I told her?"

"What?"

"That she'll be okay. You on the other hand, will be perfect. Dad isn't here anymore, you got us. All twelve of us, Y/n. We're not leaving your side until you're settled and comfortable with you daughter."

"We don't know yet." She mumbled.

"Well, fuck it. I want a niece." Alex said.

"He wants a niece so he can keep the boys away from her." Arthur said while walking into the kitchen.

"That's only half true!" Alex reminded him. A few weeks later, Y/n was studying at her table for a test she had to do in a few days for school. She wanted to eat something, but didn't want to get up. Her brothers were out working while one was knocked out on the couch. Sighing and coming to a defeat, she got up and walked to the kitchen to look for some snacks to fill her appetite.

She found some chocolate and a cupcake to go along with it, "I'm such a sweet tooth for this kind of stuff." She mumbled to herself. Until she dropped her bar when she felt something soak her inner thighs, she gasped and looked to see that her water had broke.

"Oh. . . Shit. . . Oh shit! Julio!! Fuck! Julio! Julio, help!!" She yelled with panic, her brother immediately woke up from his power nap and rushed to the kitchen.

"What happened-? Oh! Oh! Oh, fuck! Okay! Okay, come on! We're taking you to the hospital!" He said as he quickly led her outside. The drive was urgent and so was the call he made to his brothers, multiple of them called the hospital to warn their second brother who was a doctor that Y/n was in labor.

She was shaking as sweat began to form on her brow, she was beginning to tear up as they prepared her on the bed. Her brother rushed in with three other nurses as her other brothers tried to comfort her. "You're okay, it's going to be okay-"

"Y/n, you have to focus and control your breathing, okay? Oh yeah, yeah, she's definitely dilated. I need you to try and push." Her brother, Michael said. Alex held her hand as he said comforting things to her. "Don't you give her pills to numb the pain or something?!" Julio yelled at Michael.

"She's too far along for that, and don't shout-!"

"Shit! Y/n!" Arthur and Luis said as they rushed inside of the room. "Doctor, there's too many people in here-!"

"Guys, wait outside the room-!"

"We're not leaving her alone!" Mateo cut in, "AGH!!" Y/n screamed, crushing Alex's hand in hers. He withheld the urge to rip his hand out of hers, he focused on trying to keep her calm. Her brothers watched her cry and scream as she tried pushing as hard as she could. But by the end of it, she was trying to catch her breath as the baby began to wail in Michael's arms.

He quickly moved to rest the baby in her arms, as soon as he did, the baby began to calm down within her grasp. "Congrats, little sis. . . It's a baby boy." He grinned at her. She let out a small laugh and she hugged her baby, "He's so quiet." She whispered out of breath. "Damn. . . Can we switch it for a girl-?"

"Alex!" His brothers and Y/n chastised.

"I'm kidding! What are you gonna name him?" He wondered as he sat in a chair rubbing his hand.

"How about Spartan?" Mateo suggested. "No, definitely Master Chief." Luis said. Y/n ignored the bickering over the name and instead looked at her son, unable to look away from such a beautiful boy. His small knuckles rested on her chest, his tiny body lying on hers as she held him securely.

"I like Noah." She said, her brothers all paused and looked at her. "Noah?" Michael said as he dried his hands after washing them. "Why Noah?" Ramone inquired while sitting beside Y/n.

"I just like it. . . It matches him, doesn't it? Little Noah. . ."

"Noah and the Ark, you mean?" Mateo chuckled.

"Shush." Luis muttered.

"I like it." Julio answered.

"Hi, Noah. . . You're so beautiful. . . So beautiful and special." Y/n whispered before kissing his head.

~~~

"So, that worked out well." Elliot said, "Okay, ah. We'll go check this side of the house." Ellie's voice brought Y/n back to reality, she turned and walked down the hall, listening to the two adult men.

"Bill?" Joel muttered. "Somebody had the same idea. They stole my shit." Bill answered. "Then what the hell is plan B?" Joel said. "You oughta be thankful you're still drawing breath. That was plan A, B, C, all the way to fucking Z. And furthermore, tell Tess that she can take this job-", "Don't you bring Tess into this!", "-she can shove it right up-!", "She's got nothin' to do with-!"

They both stopped arguing as they see the corpse on the ground. ". . . Jesus. What? Do you know this guy or something?" Joel questioned.

"Frank." Bill mumbled. "Who the hell's Frank?" Joel scoffed.

"He was his partner." Y/n said as she entered the room. Relief seemed to have washed from Joel's face when he saw her standing there. "He's the only idiot that would wear a shirt like that. . . He's got bites. Here. And. . ." Bill didn't continue as he painfully looked at his partner's face.

"I reckon he didn't want to turn so he. . ."

"Yeah. I guess not. Well fuck him." Bill spat. "I cut him down when I got here. . . I. . . I'm sorry, Bill. I found the battery in the garage." Soon they all hear the sound of a pickup starting up. Y/n rushed to the garage, Elliot and Ellie were in the truck as Max stood in the bed of the truck.

"Look what we found. It's got some juice in it." Ellie smirked. "That's my battery. That fuckin' asshole. . . Get out. Get out." Bill said to the kids.

"Okay, geez." Ellie grumbled as Elliot helped Max out of the truck.

~~~

"I found the battery myself, therefore, I get the truck." Y/n argued with Joel. "I told you we're takin' the truck!" Y/n scoffed at Joel's response. Elliot and Ellie looked at each other before they took Max and got inside of the truck themselves. "You know this place better, don't you? So walk!" Joel said to her. "Driving is quicker to get these kids back! You walk!" She seethed at him.

"We can go together?" Elliot suggested. "No!" Y/n spat, "Joel is going to walk and we're taking the truck."

"You're the one walkin'!" Joel said as he turned away from her. Everything escalated from zero to hundred when a knife was held against Joel's throat. "You're. Fucking. Walking. Miller. I don't care if I have to rip out your Achilles tendon to stop you, I will do it if you continue to push me." She threatened him. Ellie had wide eyes as Elliot watched with growing panic. Max was busy playing with her stuffed bunny on her lap. "Why do you want the truck so badly?" He asked her. "I already told you. You're walking with your cargo and I'm delivering mine."

"Why can't we drive together! It's faster and better! We'll be safer with numbers, remember!" Ellie said, "Just get over it and get in the car!" Elliot groaned.

Please. Max signed at Y/n. She hated the thought of working with Joel again, but she swallowed her pride and removed the knife from him. "I'm driving for now. We switch later." She commanded.

"Yes, Ma'am." He muttered.

~~~

Y/n was asleep in her bed, her brothers watched how peaceful she was. "She's finally sleeping comfortably." Luis muttered. "I thought she'd never sleep like this again." Michael whispered. Alex held two of his brothers shoulders before turning and heading downstairs.

"Alright, she's gonna need our help. She's still a kid and she's doing her work for school, that means we'll help her with Noah. That means: feeding, cleaning, changing, watching, and being around that kid whenever we can. We'll have shifts to take. Michael is bringing in a large sum of money thanks to his job, who else has a high salary?" Alex questioned as he grabbed a paper and pen before jotting down the payments.

"I'm a lawyer, remember?" Arthur added.

"Okay, lawyer, doctor, anyone a nurse or a singer?" Alex said. But before someone could speak, Noah began to cry. The twelve of them rushed to the wailing baby but found Y/n cradling him in her arms, she looked exhausted from just waking up, but Alex noticed how quickly she woke up just for Noah.

It reminded them all of their mother. No matter how tired she was, how much she craved her sleep, she'd do anything to help her children first. "You guys sound like a stampede of elephants when you run together." She mumbled, "I think he's hungry though. . . Can you close the door-?"

"Yeah! Yeah, okay. Closing the door." Luis said as he shut the door to give her privacy. "I can't believe she's a mom." Mateo replied as he leaned against the wall, "Nursing and getting up in the middle of the night for her baby. . . I can't believe it."

"You better believe it. We're all uncles, and we can't fuck it up. Not with our own sister." Arthur commented. "We'll get used to this. We can do it."

~~~

Joel and Y/n swapped places driving, she had her eyes closed as she rested in her seat. Her fingers tapping on her arm as she stayed silent, ". . . Can't sleep?" Joel mumbled. "I can. I just don't trust sleeping in a car." She whispered.

The drive was silent as it could be. The three children were sleeping in the back as the two adults remained vigilant; Y/n often glanced at Joel to see if he were dozing off or not, "You should get more sleep." She said, Joel looked at her. "I don't need you passing out on me." She added.

"I'm fine." Joel answered. She sighed and closed her eyes before Ellie and Elliot groaned.

"Oh, man." She whined.

"Hey, what happened to sleeping?" Joel questioned them. Ellie then held up a comic to show Joel and Y/n as Elliot tapped his fingers on his lap. "Okay, I know it doesn't look like it, but this here is not a bad read. Only one problem. Right there. "To be continued!" I hate cliffhangers."

"Where the hell did you two get that?" Y/n inquired.

"Uhh. . . back at Bill's." Elliot muttered. "I mean all this stuff was just lying there!" Ellie added. Max whined as she tried to cover her hears to sleep more.

"What else did you get?" Joel sighed.

"Well. . ." Ellie hummed as Elliot handed her a cassette with a smirk on his face. "Here. This make you two all nostalgic?" Ellie teased. "Y'know, this is actually before our time. That is a winner though." Joel said, before he pushed the cassette into the radio. "Oh, man. . ." He muttered.

"Well, better than nothing." Elliot commented. "Oh! I'm sure your friend will be missing this tonight." Ellie chuckled.

"Mm-hmm." Y/n hummed. "Light on the reading, but it's got some interesting photos." Elliot piped up. Joel and Y/n both glanced at the mirror before seeing the adult magazine in Ellie's hands.

"Hey, Ellie, that ain't for kids." Joel said. "Whoa. How. . . how the hell would he even walk around with that thing?" Ellie gasped. "Oh shit! Look at those straps! Looks like he's wearing a fishing net!" Elliot laughed.

"Get rid of that. Just-", "Throw that away, right now-!" Joel and Y/n both scolded as she tried to reach and grab the magazine.

"Hold your horses. We wanna see what all the fuss is about." Elliot chuckled as he looked at the magazine with Ellie. "Oh. . . why are these all stuck together?"

"Um. . ." Joel mumbled. "Haha! We're just fucking with you. Bye-bye, dude." Elliot threw it out the window as Max growled and climbed over into the front seat and on Y/n's lap. "Hey-!" Max whimpered as she laid comfortably in her chest, she was small and so warm. Her short light brown hair was soft on Y/n's neck. Max was easily dozing off once again

"You know what? . . . This isn't that bad." Elliot said.

"Why don't y'all try and get some sleep, alright?" answered Joel. "Pft—I'm not even tired." Ellie scoffed. "Me too." Elliot added. Less then five minutes later, Ellie and Elliot were sound asleep as they arrive on Pittsburgh's highway. Y/n had fallen asleep while holding Max in her arms.

Joel slowed the car down when they arrived at a blocked road. "Oh, no, no, no, no. . . Well, perfect." He sighed. "Mm? . . . Now what?" Y/n mumbled out as she woke herself up. Joel huffed before saying, "Screw it."

He turned the vehicle and continued down the turnpike, Y/n felt Max whimper in her shoulder as her small hands clutched to Y/n's jacket. Y/n's hands were reluctant as she reached to rub circles on Max's back to comfort her. The car suddenly jolts to a stop when Joel saw a man approaching their truck, supposedly injured as he clutched his stomach.

"Easy!" Ellie gasped.

"Please. . . help. . .!" The man begged. Y/n lifted Max and pushed her into the backseat before reaching down to her bag to retrieve her gun and a hunting knife. "Holy crap. . . Are we going to help him?" Elliot asked. "Put your seat belt on, kids." Y/n warned as she gripped her gun.

"Help me!" He begged. "W-What about the guy?!" Ellie yelped.

"He ain't even hurt." Joel growled before pushing the gas. "Oh, fuck!! Go, go, go!!" The man ordered as Joel charges at the stranger; different men all begin to start shooting at the truck as Y/n yelled for the kids to duck. Y/n then saw an overturned bus heading right at them. "Oh fuck! Joel-!" The bus t-boned them.

"Hold on!" Joel shouted as they crashed in a storefront. The sudden impact caused Y/n to go hazy as she slowly sat back up. "You guys okay?" She mumbled.

"I'm okay, I'm okay.", "Same here." Ellie and Elliot both said. "Then get out quick." Joel grunted as he and Y/n removed their seatbelts. Just then—Y/n's side door is ripped open and a hunter grabbed her arm and neck before attempting to pull her out of the truck. "C'mere!" The hunter hissed.

"Shit!" Joel said as he grabbed Y/n's ankle to pull her back inside. "Fuck-! Joel! Get the kids-! Get the fucking kids-!"

"Let go of her, you chickenshit! Joel!" Ellie shouted as she tried to open her door to help Y/n. "Y/n!!" Elliot screamed as he kicked at his door. Joel was then grabbed and dragged out of the truck by another hunter. Joel was slammed through glass but used his strength to avoid getting his throat sliced into by the sharp piece of glass. He elbowed the man before turning and slamming the hunter into the glass shard. "Joel!!" The kids yelled as they finally broke through the door—Joel's eyes scanned for Y/n before seeing the hunter slap her to the ground and get on top of her. "I'll show you. I'll show you." The hunter growled as he slid his hand up her shirt—trying to grab at her bra. "You fucking bastard!!" She shouted before stabbing his ribs with her knife that she reached for.

Max screamed as she jumped on the man's back and bit his ear to get him off Y/n. "Shit!" The hunter yelled as he tried to rip Max off while being stabbed at. Elliot and Ellie saved Max as Joel grabbed the hunter and dragged him towards a counter. He pulled him up and slammed his face into the edge of the counter.

"Motherfucker!" Ellie growled. "Come on." Joel said as Y/n got up. "What's wrong with these guys?" Elliot asked as he held Max's hand. "Catch your breath. We're leaving." Joel said while grabbing Y/n's bag and handing it to her.

"You okay-?", "I'm fine." She said abruptly—cutting off Joel before taking her gun. "Watch out!" Ellie gasped before a rifle was fired at Joel's head. They ducked just in time. "I know a way out. . . The roof is a good spot, from there we can cross and over to the next building. It's secured at the bottom." Y/n said, "Forgot these fucking hunters were here."

~~~

"There's no plank!?" Ellie squeaked. Y/n threw her bag across to the opposite building before backing up. Elliot turned and looked at her, so did Max and Ellie soon after. "What are you doing?" Elliot asked, she didn't respond before running and leaping off the building. Landing and rolling onto the other rooftop.

"Oh shit!!" The kids gasped. "I have a plank here. Cross over, quick!" Y/n said. Max whined as she held Joel's hand, her worst fear was heights. Elliot and Ellie passed to the next building, Joel picked up Max who was beginning to cry in his shoulder. Y/n pulled out her gun and aimed at the door as a hunter broke through—she shot him straight through the skull as Joel set Max down on the floor before removing the plank.

"Come on, let's keep moving!" Y/n said.

They hurried to a safer place, the hunters were still around, but not too close. "Oh, this place stinks." Ellie gagged. "Yeah, wood's all rotten." Joel replied as they continued walking through the building.

Ellie stopped by an abandoned coffee shop before asking Joel: "Did you go to coffee shops a lot?"

"I did. All the time." Joel answered. "And what would you get?" asked Elliot.

"Just. . . just coffee." Joel said. "Over here. . . We head through this hotel and make out on the other side. The quicker we get out, the safer we'll be." Y/n said as they followed her into the large hotel.

"It's clear, for now." said Y/n as she climbed down into the hotel. "Whoa. . . this is fancy. Ever stay in a place like this? Before it all went to shit, I mean." Ellie asked. "Watch your mouth." Y/n said.

"No. . . no, this is too rich for my blood." Joel commented. "Oh. I bet it was nice." Elliot grinned. Y/n ignored the conversation as she scoped out the area, planning on escaping without drawing anymore attention from the hunters. Perhaps she could travel by leaping onto other rooftops, it's risky. Maybe the kids can't jump that far, and she doubted there'll be more planks around them. The climbed through the elevator, Y/n helped the girls first before lifting Elliot next.

Before anyone could process it, the elevator gave in and collapsed from beneath the adults. Both fell into water as the kids screamed for their names. "Oh shit! Joel! Y/n?!", "Y/n! Joel!"

"We're alright! Are you okay?" Joel yelled as Y/n resurfaced. "No! You scared the shit outta us!" Ellie shouted. "I'm gonna climb down there, okay?" Elliot said. "No! All of you stay up there. We'll make our way up to you!" Y/n responded.

"Don't do anything stupid!" Ellie said. ". . . Don't kill each other." Elliot added.

"Yeah. . . We'll try." Joel muttered.

They didn't kill each other, but they rather tried to help each other when hunters found them. Y/n didn't hesitate to stab one of them in the throat—turning to grab a second hunter that was attacking her and managed to break his arm. Y/n was separated from Joel as the scuffle grew worse.

"Fuck!" One of them yelled as he tackled Joel into a semi-deep puddle of water. He held him down—drowning him as Y/n was being slammed into the wall by another attacker. Elliot ran and jumped onto the hunter's back and stabbed his switchblade in his neck—painfully dragging it across his throat while Ellie picked up Joel's pistol and shot the hunter drowning him.

Her hands were trembling as she slowly lowered it while Joel gasped for air. "Man. . . I shot the hell outta that guy, huh?" She whispered, Max was standing beside her as she stared wide-eyed at the corpse.

"Yeah, you sure did." He said. "I feel sick." She muttered as she sat down. Joel took his pistol back as Max looked up at him. "Why didn't you just hang back like I told you to?" Joel replied.

"Well, you're glad I didn't, right?" Ellie responded. "I'm glad I didn't get my head blown off by a damn kid." Joel scolded. "You know what? No. How about "Hey, Ellie. I know it wasn't easy, but it was either him or me, thanks for saving my ass." You got anything like that for me, Joel?" She asked.

". . . We gotta get going. We have to find Y/n and Elliot."

"Lead the way." She muttered.

~~~

Y/n was rubbing her neck as she looked at Elliot who's entire right hand was coated in blood. "Whoa. . . I-I really cut the hell out of his throat, huh?" He muttered with shaking hands. "Uh huh." Y/n sighed while straightening up correctly. Elliot leaned against the wall as he clenched on to his switchblade, "Why didn't you stay behind with your sister?" Y/n retorted.

He looked at her again and answered, "You and Joel were gone for. . . a while and, we were scared. . . So we tried to find you. And, you're glad I found you. . . right?" Elliot wondered. Y/n dusted off her shoulders and looked down the hall, ". . . Guess I am glad. . . But don't do that ever again."

"Why-?"

"Because I said so. If I'm struggling with someone in a fight, you better turn and run. Run as far as you can and don't turn back for me, you take you and your sister to somewhere else safe. Find Joel and Ellie and go with them. If that ever happens, you better do what I just told you to do. Got it?" She asked him.

". . . Got it. . ." He lowly said.

~~~

Y/n led them out of the hotel onto a scaffolding. But below them, hunters were patrolling the area. Y/n grabbed Joel's sleeve and tugged him down to avoid being seen. "Oh, shit." He muttered.

"They haven't gotten back yet. What the hell's taking them so long?" A hunter asked. "I don't know. They went to check on 'em. For now, we wait." Another replied.

"C'mere, keep your heads down." Joel said to the two teens, Max was close behind Y/n, "Alright now. . . I'm gonna jump down there and I'm gonna clear us a path."

"We're going to clear a path." Y/n added. Joel locked eyes with her before Ellie spoke up. "What about us?", "You stay here." Y/n said. "This is so stupid. We'd have more of a fucking chance if you'd let us help." Ellie responded.

"I am." She huffed before tipping her head at Joel who grabs a rifle laying nearby. "Now you seem to know your way around a gun. You reckon you can handle that?" Joel asked Ellie.

"Well, uh, I sorta shot a rifle before. . . but it was a rats." Ellie confessed. Y/n stared at her with disappointment as Joel confusingly asked, "Rats?"

"With BBs, I bet?" Elliot grinned, "Fuck yeah." Ellie replied with a smirk. "Well, it's the same basic concept. Lift it up. Alright now, you're gonna wanna lean right into that stock, 'cause it's gonna kick a hell of a lot more than any BB rifle." Joel said. Y/n pulled out another rifle and handed it to Elliot, "You listen to what he says. Max, come here." Y/n whispered.

"Okay." Elliot replied as he knelt on Joel's other side. "Go ahead and pull the bolt back. Grab it right there. Just tug it. . . There you go. Now as soon as you fire, you're gonna want to get another round in there quick. Listen to me—if we get in trouble down there, both of you make every shot count, yeah?"

"We got this." Ellie said. "Max, when they need more bullets, you give them some. Always have one to pass onto them, okay?" Y/n said to her. She nodded and scooted in between Ellie and Elliot.

"Alright. And just so we're clear about back there. . . it was either him or me." Joel said to Ellie.

"You're welcome." Ellie added.

______________________________________

Part 4 is on it's way.

#fanfic #slow burn #smutwarning #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel tlou #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel and ellie

[topgunruinedme]

Dagger’s Daycare|| o.4

Synopsis: Maverick finds himself in a situation he cant explain. The daggers are unavailable, and he finds himself in need of help from his old crew. Of cause this wasn't the reunion they expected.

“Did you kidnap an orphanage Mav?”

Warning: age regression (they get turned into children), slight whump mostly fluff, slight swearing, homophobia and 5 idiots with no knowledge on kids caring for some.

Word Count: 1.6k

Read on Ao3

Previous chapters: Chapter||o.1, Chapter||o.2, Chapter||o.3.

Note: Full disclosure I'm using Google translate so I apologize if the translation is wrong.

//

Slider frowned slightly as he pulled up garage door attached to his house. He hadn't been in here for a while, he had been busy recently between working and helping wood move into his new house, having move after retiring from the Navy. He had bought a house only two streets down from Wolf. His baby was had a layer of dust on it, her paint was peeling slightly. He had owned her for years, only retiring her when he had get another car. It wasn't the best look for an admiral to be driving a minivan, at least not an old one like this anyway. He had always loved minivans, unlike Wolf who’s go to car’s was a Ford Ranger. Or Wood’s Mazda, or Ice’s Toyota Rav4. He had grown up in a minivan. His mother had owned one through his entire childhood, the silver stout scarab. It was one of the things he remembered most, so when the dodge caravan first came out when he was first going into the academy he bought it. Continuing the tradition through the years as he updated, he had upgraded a few years ago to a Toyota sienna. The light of his life. He got crap from the others about his obsession with the vans but he never took the words to heart. It had been used as a transport vehicle through the years with the crew. He truly did favor the Sienna more then the others, the baby sat 8 people comfortably. He ran a hand over the smooth silver paint with a loving smile, “Alright darling, lets get you a breath of fresh air”. //

Ice parked the car of to the side of the driveway to stay out of the way. Leaving a rather large gap for the van to drive on once they retrieved it from the jungle Wolf called a yard. Hell did the man ever mow?

Wolf jumped out of the car, walking towards the side of his house where his black van was parked. He had bought it a few years ago after an old friend of his wanted to get rid f it and never really used it.

Ice turned of the engine and stepped out of the car to see if Wolf needed any help getting the old thing started.

Wolf jogged over to a power box and pulled out a key, Ice raised an eyebrow the man grinned.

“Snooping Neighbors” he offered as he walked over to the gate pulling it open to get to the van. It looked old, unused nothing Ice would ever willingly get into.

Wolf patted it on the wide, “Come on girl lets get you up and ready for some cargo”. He opened the door leaning in as he turned the key and pressed down on the petal to get the car to rumble. It kicked a few times before the engine started, Wolf let out a victorious cry.

“Lead the way metal man” Wolf cried out as he pulled the door shut and started slowly driving it out of the yard.

Ice shook his head with a sigh out of all of them why had he chosen Wolf for this job?

He walked back down the yard to his car slipping into the seat, backing out carefully and lead the van down the road. Once they were sure the old piece of junk could drive, Wolf waved him off and Ice lead the van into town towards the baby store ‘baby bunting’.

This was going to be a long trip. //

While Wood wore a confident smile, he was anything but. Being left alone with kids sure. 1 or 2, no problem. But 7 kids, alone with Maverick on top of that. He was in no way prepared for the chaos about to be pursued.

He twisted his head again a small strain in his neck from the way his head had been swinging from side to side in an attempt to count the kids.

1,2. Bradley was jumping on the couch as a darker skinned boy edged him on, “Do it. Do it. Do it”.

3,4,5. The boy with fluffy brown hair that had previously been playing with Bradley had now moved away from them. He was siting curiously in front of the two boys in the corner.

They had only shifted enough so the protective kid could cuddle into the quiet blonds side.

He could hear the the boy talking quietly, “Hola. Podemos ser amigos”. The darker skinned boy turned his face away from the blonds neck and frowned at the foreigon language slightly.

Bloody hell no one had told him he would be expected to know other languages.

6,7. The girl, Phoenix was laying down with her head on the younger boy - who looked younger then them all - stomach.

He pushed his glasses up slightly as his rubbed his nose. Both of their eyes were shut, apparently having decided to take a nap.

He shifted over to them taking a light weight blanket off the couch to wrap around them both. He tucked it into Phoenix side slightly first. Her hand coming out to wrap around the fabric, turning on her side so she was facing Bob. He then wrapped the other side of the large blanket into Bob’s side so that it covered them both.

Bob reached out blindly but instead of gripping the blanket his hand wrapped itself in Phoenix hair. Not pulling on it but just holding the strand as if assuring himself she was still there.

Maverick was leaning cover the kitchen bench, having moved out of the room after Bradley had caught sight of him again and attempted to get him to play with him by pulling on his pant leg. It had overwhelmed the man, despite the two being on good grounds it had reminded him how much he had missed.

Wood moved around the kids from the living room to the open kitchen. He walked around the kitchen island and placed a comforting hand on the younger mans shoulder he left a constant vigilant gaze on the kids. “Are you ok?” he asked quietly felling the tremors flooding Mavericks body.

Maverick’s voice was rough and choked, “Yeah” he said hoarsely, Maverick lifted his head giving him a shaky smile. “Its just” he waved his hand in an attempt of an explanation, “a lot” he finished lamely.

It was a nightmare and a half, for all of them. He couldn't imagine what it would be like for Maverick. They had all seen Bradley at the funeral, but Maverick practically lived with the Bradshaw's.

The last time he would have seen Bradley this happy at this age was when Goose was still alive, the family visit half way through Top Gun. He remembered it faintly, seeing the odd family singing away at the piano.

He rubbed Mavericks back ripping his eyes away from the kids for a moment to frown lightly in concern. This was normally Ice’s job, he always knew how to deal with Maverick.

He turned back to the kids letting Maverick have a moment to himself.

1,2,3 kids in the corner. 4,5 sleeping bundle. 6,7,8 kids playing.

He looked around the room for anything the kids could play with to keep occupied without waking the other tw- wait 8?

He frowned and counted them again, 1,2,3,4,5,6. He tensed slightly his eyes darting around 6? Hadn't there been 8 before?

“Mav, how many kids are there?” he asked wearily. Maverick lifted his head giving him and odd look.

“7?” he frowned at Wood, his own eyes moving around the room to count. “They're 7 kids here Wood.

Wood left out a breath of relief, God Ice was right. He’s not good with numbers. Guilty he snatched the shopping list note pad magnet off the fridge and took the pen out of its holder, Maverick laughed lightly shaking his head.

“Ice?” Mav asked in amusement.

“Ice” Wood grumbled, “Point them out for me” he huffed.

Natasha and Robert, Bradley and Reuben, Jake, Javy and Micky. That solved that issue now that he knew which name went to which group.

“Did you” Wood hesitated, Maverick leaned leaning his hip against the bench frowning at him. Wolf sighed there was no other way to say it. “Have you seen Ice recently?” he asked.

Maverick opened his mouth to argue, defend him wingman but then he paused. His frown deepening as he thought over his words carefully, “We talk over the phone. But I haven't seen him in a while” he admitted. “At least not for a year or more” he shrugged unconcerned, “We've been busy”.

“Did you notice anything wrong with him?” Wood asked carefully aware that Maverick was fiercely protective of the man. “He seamed different. Distant” he added.

Maverick looked uncertain for a moment before a young hand pulled at his jeans, “Mav can we go play now” Bradley asked, Maverick sent Wood a look.

“Sure bud, well play”, Maverick gripped the boys hand letting himself be pulled away. The conversation left in the air. Wood watched as Maverick got roped into playing a game with Bradley and Reuben. He kept a close eye on the boys in the corner, Micky was still babbling away at the two not noticing the language barrier and Javy seamed content to lay in Jake’s lap. This was going to be a wild day, he huffed lightly stepping out of the kitchen taking the note pad with him. Ensuring his phone was off silent, if anything went wrong he want to make sure he would hear it. He really regretting accepting Maverick’s invitation now.

//

Translations/Micky/Fanboy [Spanish] “Hola. Podemos ser amigos” - Hello. Can we be friends.

#topgun #topgun maverick #top gun 1968 #top gun fluff #top gun fanfiction #deaged #de aging #deaging #adults to baby’s #1986 crew #2020 squadron #bradley rooster bradshaw #natasha pheonix trace #mickey fanboy garcia #reuben payback fitch #robert bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #javy coyote machado #ron slider kerner #tom iceman kazansky #lenard wolfman wolfe #rick hollywood neven #pete maverick mitchell #5 idiots who don’t know what their doing

[crashdevlin]

Gone Girl 2- Fight Club

Author’s Note: Here we go, down the Walker hole!

Summary: Cordell gets in a bit of trouble tracking down some missing men.

Pairing: none yet

Word Count: 2853

Story Warnings: mentions of homicides and abductions (Cordy is law enforcement, after all), abduction, being drugged, canon-level violence

~~~~

"The mayor’s son is missing?" Cordell asked as he finished reading the case file.

"From the same bar as our second victim, Daniel Pierce." Micki sat on the edge of his desk and adjusted her belts.

"Guess we should go check out that bar." He stood and smiled down at her. Micki just gave him a bit of side eye before standing and walking away. "So, this is political. We got called in because Richardson wants to make sure his son doesn't end up the same as the others."

"Don't you?" Micki asked. "Don't you wanna make sure no one else has to go through that?"

"Well, yeah, but come on! I hate politics. I hate that those four men in the morgue weren't important enough for APD to ask us to help, but as soon as someone with a bit of clout gets affected, we better be jumping to help."

Micki didn't argue it, just getting in the car and pulling up the address for Black Rock Bar on her nav app. The twenty- minute drive was filled with Walker talking about Stella's soccer team and August's photography talent.

"He'll probably be just as good as his mother was eventually," he said as they got out of the car, adjusting their hats.

The bar was dirty, Walker could tell before he even opened the door. The vibe said 'dive' from the moment they pulled off the highway. "Interesting place for the mayor's son to frequent," Micki said, pulling open the door.

"Maybe he wanted to be around folks who don't care about money, or taste, or…" Walker grimaced a bit as he looked around the inside of the bar. "Dusting or black mold inspections."

"We ain't open yet," a voice called from the back as the door to the musty-smelling bar closed behind them.

"We're with the Rangers. We need to ask you a few questions," Micki called out.

"If this is about Danny," the man said, walking out from the back with a keg in his arms. "I already talked to the cops 'bout 'im."

"Walker and Ramirez...We're Texas Rangers, not police." Micki stood tall as the man dropped the keg and turned to them. "And we are here to ask about Daniel Pierce and Seth Richardson."

"Seth got hisself killed, too?"

"Got himself disappeared. So, you know Seth?" Walker asked.

"He's in a few times a week." The large man scratched at his beard and looked around. "Runs a tab up, starts fights, great guy."

"How big of a tab?" Micki asked.

"Couple hundred. He always settles up at the end of the week."

"And there anybody specific he was starting fights with?" Walker tried.

"Nope," the man dismissed quickly.

"Is there anything you can tell us about either of the men that might be helpful?"

"Nope," he responded again.

Micki and Walker looked at each other. Unhelpful, uncooperative people were nothing new, but it was something that neither enjoyed. They stuck around to ask a few more basic questions, getting short answers for each before they bid the man a good day and left.

"Seems like he's hiding something to you?" Walker asked as they settled in the car.

"Might just have been anti-authority."

He nodded. "Maybe. I think I'm gonna give this place a look after happy hour, see what kind of patrons Richardson might have been picking fights with."

Micki agreed that coming in that night in plainclothes would be the best bet to get some recon done.

His black Stetson went well with his light blue plaid shirt and his dark blue jeans. He nodded at Micki from across the bar. She was wearing a black tank top and a tight pair of jeans, her hair down in waves. There were a handful of patrons at the bar and a few small groups scattered between the pool tables, dartboard, and tables. They seemed like hardworking men and women...except the group of four bikers in the back.

Walker focused on the bikers, trying to get close enough to hear their conversation without drawing attention to himself, but there was no way to do that. He settled for drawing attention intentionally, grabbing a pool cue and approaching the group. "Any of y'all up for a game?"

"Fuck off, pretty boy,” the woman in the middle of the group snapped.

"Come on!" he whined. "I got an hour before the old lady starts blowing up my phone about where I am and I just wanna play a round or two.”

The bikers didn’t bite at his invitation, scoffing and looking away, ignoring him completely as they kept drinking. The fact that they weren’t paying him any mind made it easier for him to listen in on their conversation...which involved drugs, their Harleys, the crazy bitch who’s been trying to get child support out of the largest of the men, and the Mexican outlaw bikers that they seemed to have a rivalry with...but nothing about Daniel Pierce or Seth Richardson.

He sighed and set the pool cue back against the wall, heading into the back to use the restroom. He was barely past the entrance to the dark hallway when pain exploded across the back of his skull and the world went dark.

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

His head was swimming as Walker came to his senses. Not just a concussion, he could feel that. He knew what a concussion felt like. He also knew what sedative hangover felt like. The heavy limbs, like he was moving through pudding, the way he felt a bit bobble headed, the way his focus was hard to find. He knew he’d been drugged.

He ran his tongue across the top of his mouth, trying to get saliva flowing in his bone-dry mouth as his eyes fluttered open.

“Thank god, you’re awake,” a voice whispered. The voice didn’t seem too excited though. “Fuckin’ huge, aren’t you?”

Walker’s hand went to the back of his head as he sat up. “Where’m I?” He looked around his surroundings. He was in a cage along a wall made of cinder blocks. Down the wall, there were three more cages in a line. Each steel enclosure had a large man in it. He recognized the one closest to him.

Seth Richardson sighed and leaned back against the bars. “It’s where they keep us until it’s time to fight.”

“Fight?”

“Cage matches, man,” one of the others responded. “Bigger cage, obviously.”

“Modern-day gladiatorial combat.” Seth ran his hand down his bruised face. “I hope they don���t put me against you. You work out, right?”

“Wait, they...blindsided me, abducted us...to force us to fight?” Maybe it was the head wound, maybe it was the drugs, but he couldn’t see the reasoning.

“We’re worth a lot of money. They take bets.”

“‘They’? Who’s ‘they’?”

“No names. We don’t even have names now that they got us.” The man in the furthest cage groaned. “They’ll give you an animal title. I’m Bear.”

“Puma.”

“Bull,” Seth said.

“Well, I hope I get something badass. Like a moose or something.” Walker chuckled at his own little joke and licked his lips. “Okay, so...they, whoever they are, make you fight each other? What, to the death?”

“Only after we stop making them money. They give the kill order when we don’t have people bet on us anymore,” Bear said.

“How often does-”

“Stop asking questions! If you don’t make waves, you’ll last longer,” Puma hissed.

Walker sighed, trying to clear his head enough to figure out a way to get out. “Any y’all tried to break out?”

“No, we just sit on our asses all fuckin’ day. There’s no out.”

“There’s always an out.”

“Except when there’s not,” a new voice said as the door on the far end of the room opened. Walker blinked to clear his eyes as a short, balding man walked in. “You’re a big one, Gator.”

“My name is-”

“Your name is Gator. You’re gonna make me a lot of money...after I drug you up and let Bull beat you to shit.”

“Give him a lot, ‘cause I mean...look at ‘im!” Seth exclaimed.

“Don’t worry, Bull. You’re winning this one.”

“Look, man, you don’t need to give me any drugs because I’m not fighting anybody,” Walker said.

The balding man just chuckled. “Okay. You don’t fight, you die anyway.” A gun was suddenly in the man’s hand. “I got no problem putting down a gator.” He took Walker’s silence as fear, so he laughed. “You’ll fight. You all fight for your lives.”

He didn’t have a lot of choice. Not in the sedatives entering his muscle in his arm, nor the bag over his head, or the cuffs on his wrists as he was dragged out of the small cage and away toward the sound of a raucous crowd. He fell to his knees as he was pushed into the larger cage and the bag was removed. The cuffs were undone as the cage was opened on the other side and Seth was pushed in, no bag or cuffs hindering him.

“We don’t have t-to do this,” Walker tried as the cage was closed and locked, leaving just ‘Gator’ and ‘Bull’ in the enclosure.

“You don’t know, man. Shut the fuck up.” Seth’s foot connected with Walker’s chin and his head snapped back.

He did what he could to fend off the mayor’s son, but eventually Walker had no choice but to hit back. His head fuzzy from diazepam and injury, it took him a few tries to get to his feet. In that time, Bull’s fists connected with his cheek and chin multiple times. Seth was pulling no punches as they landed in his gut and Walker’s initial impulse was to hit back with everything he had. The thought that it wasn’t Seth’s fault stayed the Ranger’s hand. ‘Fighting for survival’ was quite literal in the situation Seth and Walker were in.

Cordell’s hand zipped out, aiming for his opponent’s mouth, and caught Seth’s eye instead. The man was stunned for a moment and Walker took the opportunity to grab him, grappling him into a chokehold. Seth scratched and scrabbled, reaching to get a grip and try to get away.

“Stop. Stop, Seth,” Walker grunted into the smaller man’s ear. “Stop fighting. Just...I’m with the Rangers. Stop.”

“Wha-” The words seemed to get through. “Really?”

“Stop. Just stop.” Walker dropped Seth and stumbled backward.

Seth looked up at him, fear and hope in his brown eyes. “Really?” he asked as the crowd exploded into boos.

“What are you doing?!” the balding man demanded, drawing his gun and walking up to the cage. “Fight!”

He didn’t have time to use his weapon against them, though, as the room was suddenly flooded with officers in tactical gear, bearing semiautomatic weapons. Walker let out a heavy sigh of relief, dropping to a knee as soon as his eyes fell on his partner following in the APD SWAT members.

“This whole ‘me saving your ass’ thing is getting to be habit,” she said with a smile.

“How’d you find me?” he asked as she opened the cage and stepped inside.

“They didn’t trash your phone until after they got you here. Rookie move on their part. I followed your GPS,” she said, leaning down to examine his face. “He got some good licks in.”

“Well, yeah but...I was drugged...pretty heavily, actually.”

“If you need to blame the drugs to justify getting your ass handed to you by the rich kid, by all means, Walker.”

“I was winning that,” he defended as Micki went to check on Seth. “Ramirez, I was winning. He was on the mat when you guys came in.” He winced as he stood. “You saw that, right?”

“There’s two more in the back,” Seth said.

“Micki. I was winning!” Walker called after Micki as Seth pointed her to the back area.

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

"Oh my!" The gasp was loud enough to hear over the Luke Combs song pumping through Side Step and Cordell's eyebrow went up. "What happened to you?" Y/n cooed as she rushed up to him before he had a chance to take a seat at the bar.

"You should see the other guy," he responded, chuckling and immediately wincing when the action caused pops of pain across his abs and bruised ribs. "Could I get a double, neat, of the cheapest rye you got back there?"

"Most certainly not," she answered and his eyebrows shot up. He hadn't been denied a drink in a bar since he was a teenager with a bad fake ID. She put a finger up to tell him to wait and ran back around behind the bar. "Alcohol doesn’t even properly numb pain like that, Ranger."

"Yeah, but it makes me feel better and isn't that the real relief?" he tried to joke as Y/n dumped a hefty scoop of ice into a clean bar mop and took the corners together to make a cold pack.

"Thins the blood, makes for bigger bruises, gives a moment of 'relief' an' then three weeks of trying to hide the thing," she said, coming around the bar again to offer him the ice. "Cold keeps the bruises from spreading. Can't do much for the cuts, but there's an ointment, DerMend, that'll cut the healing time on the bruises down by half. Those look real bad, but...any little bit will help ya."

As he took the ice from Y/n and placed it over his cheek, Cordell couldn’t help but wonder how she got all the information she was giving out. He was a cowboy, a Texas Ranger, a damn rodeo star in another life, and no one had ever imparted the wisdom of bruises to him. How had she learned? Was it something innocuous, like curiosity, or was it necessity?

"How'd you know all that? You a nurse or something?"

Her eyes immediately downcast at the question and she smiled tightly before turning to get behind the bar again. "No. Not-not a nurse. Just...I just know some stuff. Don't know a lot, but I know some useful stuff, Ranger."

"Walker." He smiled what he hoped was a soothing smile as he took a seat on the closest barstool. She didn't really answer that question, deflecting subtly so she wouldn't have to explain her knowledge of heavy bruises. "Can't have whiskey, huh? Can I have a beer?"

"No, sir, you cannot," she responded firmly, starting to wash her hands. Walker took note of the faint lines on her left ring finger and the way she flinched and tensed when the door to the bar opened, relaxing only when two women walked in and the door closed behind them. "I can make you...a Shirley Temple or a virgin margarita. On me, of course. You shouldn't have to pay when you've had such a rough day protectin' Texas."

"Hell, why not? Been years since I had a Shirley Temple."

"Okay. Would you rather the original recipe like my daddy taught me to make it, with the ginger ale, or do you want it like Miss Broussard taught me to make it, with Sprite and orange juice?"

"Dealer's choice."

She smiled as she grabbed a glass and scooped ice into it. He could hear her muttering under her breath, "Ginger, grenadine, cherry, smile." over and over as she moved and made the drink for him. She stuck a straw in the pink drink and smiled brightly, quite obviously fakely, as she set it on the bar in front of him.

"There you go! Shirley Temple."

"Looks great," Cordell started as he set the ice pack down on the bar. "But don't call me 'Shirley'."

She looked confused for a second before she giggled. "Oh! That's silly! You're funny, Ranger Walker. Enjoy your drink!" she said before walking down the bar to help the women sitting on the opposite end.

He watched as she interacted with the other patrons of the bar. She was still stiff and seemed uncomfortable, but her smile never faltered. She was good at putting up a mask of happiness. He had to wonder how she got so good at faking that.

"So, where'd you come from, Miss Salama?" Walker asked, mimicking her proper use of titles as he took a sip of the second Shirley Temple she made him. "You an Austin local?"

"Oh! No, not at all. I grew up in-in Dallas, actually." She pulled the ice pack off the bar and wrung it out in the sink before grabbing another scoop of ice and handing the refreshed pack to Cordell.

"Oh? I have a few buddies from Dallas. Where'd you graduate?"

"Ummm...W. T. White. It, um...was...not the best but it got me through." She looked away and cleared her throat. "Enjoy your drink, Ranger Walker. Let me know if there's anything I can get for you," she said before walking away.

"That’s evasive," Cordell said under his breath. He took a sip of his mocktail and hummed. "Curiosity piqued."

The Kitchen Sink Tags- @flamencodiva @sacriceria @lyarr24 @440mxs-wife @nancymcl @stephv213 @mariekoukie6661 @beachy2014 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @cosicas-cuquis @queenoftheunderdark @myheartbelongsintz @squirrelnotsam @akshi8278 @muhahaha303 @agirlwithdemonblood @this-is-me19 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#cassie writes stuff #walker fic #walker x reader

[antisocialxconstruct]

slaps my hands against my keyboard for a couple hours trying to extract a conversation that’s been floating half-formed in my head for like a month

1.3k, super duper early Sidestep days, no warnings just canon-typical Chargestep banter lmao

---

The commotion behind him fades into a dull murmur as he turns a corner, finally exhaling a long, slow breath. The media presence for something like this is bound to be minimal–a new villain, not even secure enough in their own gimmick to pull it off, might make page three just on the merit of a Ranger being first on the scene–but the police who arrived to mop everything up are the far greater concern. Maksim’s already been on the receiving end of their inclination not to draw hard lines between a criminal and an unmarked vigilante.

Best to just remove himself before anyone gets confused.

He leaves his hood up as he walks but tugs the makeshift mask down to breathe in the unfiltered air. Dry, hot even in the long early evening shadows, but the acrid taste of dust and car exhaust is slightly less pungent this far from the main streets. City air. He would add nothing to it by lighting a cigarette, but he’s just digging into his coat for the pack when he hears a voice raised behind him.

“Hey! Stop!”

He immediately breaks into a faster clip without looking back, scanning the path ahead for a route he can duck down. The streets are all but abandoned but maybe the call wasn’t even aimed at him, if someone’s attention had become focused on him he would have-

Hurried footfalls coming up fast behind him scatter that bit of hope and in a burst of panic he pulls the mask back up over his nose and takes off down the quietest street he can spot. This is a commercial area, there are no dark, grimy alleys to disappear into, just quaint little walking paths and sandwich boards and glass-topped tables. Before a hiding spot can present itself a hand closes around Maksim’s wrist and flight shifts instantly and effortlessly into fight as he turns, breaks the assailant’s grip with a twist of his arm that flows into a fighting stance.

And he’s face to face with Charge, standing there a little wide-eyed with his hands placatingly raised. There’s a jacket over his skinsuit now, breaking up and softening the toned muscle of his silhouette a little, making him look just a little less combat ready. But it’s still emblazoned with the Rangers’ trademark palette and logo to eliminate any possible ambiguity about its wearer.

It takes a beat for Maksim’s rational brain to catch up from where he left it a block or so down the street. When it does he lowers his guard, but he still doesn’t fully relax. He can’t, not really. It makes sense now, the fact that he didn’t realize someone was following him. It could only be Charge, in that case. It doesn’t put him any more at ease to be reminded there’s someone he can’t read and can’t seem to avoid.

Charge is the one to finally break the standoff, stepping back and letting his own posture relax as he remarks, “is this how all our non-battlefied meetings are going to go?”

Maksim wills himself to mirror the other man’s stance as best he can, but he can’t keep the edge out of his voice when he answers. “If you’re sneaking up on me every time it is.”

“Sorry.” The apology seems genuine enough, as does the meek smile Charge offers along with it. “For the record I appreciate you not trying to break my arm this time.”

“There’s still time,” Maksim mutters. He might not have meant it as a genuine threat, but he still resents the light chuckle it earns from Charge, and he resents all the more that it tugs a smile out of him in return. Behind the mask, at least. He reaches up to touch the edge of it where it rests on the bridge of his nose, just for a second, just to reassure himself. Plausible deniability. “Do you have a reason for tailing me through darkened streets? The fight is over.” His gaze wanders briefly to the left and right. He wants to keep walking, work out the sudden tension now coiled up through his limbs. But he doesn’t want to turn his back on Charge.

“Did you want to keep moving?” Charge asks, and Maksim’s attention snaps back to him in an instant. Unpleasantly perceptive. That’s not fair.

“No,” he lies.

“Well I did actually want to talk to you,” Charge continues, making no attempt to press the issue. “I’d been hoping I’d catch you at another scene.” As he speaks he’s rifling through the pockets of his coat, until he pulls out a bulging white envelope.

“It’s a shame LD’s finest can’t handle something like this on their own,” Maksim remarks, the needling almost a secondary impulse at this point. His attention is locked onto the envelope now, trying to assess it, guess its contents from the shape alone.

“Lots of things are just more fun with a partner.” The tone of Charge’s voice makes it feel like the comment came with a wink. Maksim wasn’t looking, and now he doesn’t know for sure. “And if you and I are going to be working as partners then I want to help you out.”

He thrusts the envelope out and Maksim recoils from it on instinct, his eyes darting from it up to Charge’s face and back. He didn’t even have time to protest the assignment of ‘partner.’ “What is that?” he asks.

“It’s… money,” Charge replies hesitantly, with an expression Maksim is struggling to place. A smile, but one he seems reluctant to wear too openly. Maybe he thinks Maksim’s paranoia is funny. Maybe he feels bad about that. When Maksim still doesn’t make a move to accept the offer he presses on doggedly, “I’ve seen you fight, you clearly have a knack for this. I’ve also seen you take some hits that make my bones ache just thinking about them. I figured if you could get your hands on some real gear it might keep you in the game longer.” Another beat. “I… also threw in contact info for a tailor who can source some of the same stuff we wear and won’t ask too many questions. Called in a favor.”

Maksim is still staring hard at the envelope. It feels… dangerous. It feels like a trap. Sure maybe four layers of mismatched sportswear and a pocket knife isn’t the most refined kit for a vigilante, but he’s gotten by. He’s still in one piece. “I don’t need your charity,” he says. I don’t need to be indebted to you.

“It’s not- it’s a gift.” That doesn’t seem to strike the note Charge was hoping for, so he tries again. “It’s a… an investment? For both our sakes. We can always use more good people on the streets.”

Maksim doesn’t believe that for a second. There’s nothing impersonal about this, this isn’t a calculated move for his own benefit or the kind of gesture he’d make to just anyone. A discreet tailor, because Maksim has been so secretive about his identity. Cash, probably small bills, in case Maksim doesn’t have a bank account. And he keeps changing his story, trying to figure out what will make Maksim say yes. He sighs, dares to glance over his shoulder for just a second before facing Charge again. “If I take the money will you let me go home?”

“Sure, that seems like a fair trade.” Still joking, even when he’s got Maksim backed into a metaphorical corner.

With a muttered curse Maksim snatches the envelope out of Charge’s hand and turns on his heel as fast as he can manage. Still not fast enough to avoid feeling like a bear trap has just snapped closed around him.

#fallen hero #fallen hero rebirth #fhr #chargestep #maksim girard #mine #I didn't proof or refine this beyond like one quick re-read so it's ro u g h #but I'm done I'm ready to move on #this is based on something I think Malin said a billion years ago #about Ortega being the one who helped Sidestep get their original suit during the vigilante days #I don't remember if there were more Canon Details about it but w/e this is my house and this is how it went down #rom fiction

[some-kindofgnome]

tastes so bitter (tastes so sweet)

You’re driving back from an out-of-town mission with Hawks when your car breaks down on a very sparsely-populated highway. While you await relief, things get... personal. 

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

word count: 7.1k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), car sex, pro hero!reader, angst, emotionally unavailable hawks

notes: ta-dah!!! the car sex fic! this turned out way longer and way more feelsy than I ever intended it to be. but I’m grateful for the chance to show you how I play with plot and emotion as well as some good porn. porn with feelings, y’know? 

EDIT: The supremely talented @la-saffron​ has created an absolutely spectacular piece of artwork for this fic! Please go and look at it right here, it’s really quite splendid

Masterlist

The shadowy trees on either side of the highway cast a chill across the pavement as the sky went dark.

It was far from sunset, but the woods were so tall and thick that the light had disappeared from the road a long time ago. The overpriced navigation system laid into the dashboard of Hawks’ luxurious car was no help at all; not when you were taking the only road for miles around.

The highway narrowly passed for two lanes, winding precariously down from the mountains. Dotted with reflective yellow signs- deer crossing, bear crossing, creatures-of-unimaginable-horror crossing. Bigfoot himself could have wandered into your headlights and you barely would’ve flinched.

But that was to be expected, given where you’d come from.

That day’s mission brought you both far, far away from the city. There was a national forest about three hours away- one of the biggest in the country- and you and Hawks had been called in at the crack of fucking dawn to drive all the way out to the woods and investigate some ‘strange reports,’ as the rangers cared to call them.

Most park rangers knew what they were seeing when guests came in from the woods reporting abnormal happenings. Nobody was truly immune to fear, though, when faced with the impossible.

Whether there were paranormal creatures lurking in those woods or not, you couldn’t have been sure. But after spending the day exhausting both your quirks combing every spare inch of those woods, you were relieved of your overnight duties by a group of other, more nature-savvy heroes.

Hawks had been miffed, but too exhausted to argue. He didn’t like to think he’d been overshadowed. You were just thankful to be going home to your own bed.

“Okay,” you sighed, nursing the last of a lukewarm soda from a burger joint at the edge of the only one-horse town you’d passed through. It was a pretty unassuming stop for dinner, but you and Hawks both agreed that the burgers were way too good to be sold to so few patrons.

Keigo was driving, with one palm splayed lazily across the bottom edge of the wheel. His scarlet wings stretched into the backseat, draping over the shoulders of his black leather backrest like some bizarre kind of seat cover.

The fact that his car was so luxurious was not lost on you- although you were more surprised to find out that he had one at all. Hawks seemed like the last person in the world to need a car, after living in a fantastic downtown penthouse. And owning a pair of wings, come to think of it.

He owned it because he could. And because he knew how good he looked in the driver’s seat.

“What?” He turned a curious eye toward you, though he never quite pulled his gaze from the road.

“I know we started this conversation on the way here,” you began, “but… we never exactly finished it.” You swirled what was left of the ice chips in the bottom of your cup, considering the best way to voice your thoughts.

“Alright.” He sounded vaguely amused, slouching a little further down and drawing an idle palm over his feathered hair. “Shoot.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “You’re kind of… a city guy.” You were already starting to talk with your hands. The racket coming from your half-drunk soda was proof enough.

“What makes you say that?”

“You are,” you defended. You let a playful edge creep into your tone. “And the agency’s kind of a city thing.”

“Am I really as one-note as you’re making me out to be?” He was chuckling. Your cheeks were going hot. You weren’t sure how this became a personal conversation, but you were determined to steer it in the proper direction. You course corrected.

“I just mean, we don’t take a lot of jobs outside the city. Like… ever. So, what’s with this one? Why this call?”

He didn’t answer right away. When you glanced across the car, he was licking his lips and appearing to be, very genuinely, thinking.

“Well,” he began. There was an immensely appealing depth that wore around the edges of his voice when he was deep in thought. You hung on tightly, trying your best to hide how intently you listened.

“I was just… bored, I guess.” He gave a lazy little shrug. His eyes were still trained on the windshield, but you could feel the weight of his urges. He wanted to look over. You turned your head, willing him to.

“Probably sounded like bullshit, now that I think about it,” he confessed, “but if there really was somethin’ freaky in those woods… I dunno. I wanted to see it.”

You resisted the urge to snort.

“Maybe you should start a ghost hunting branch at the agency.”

“Aw, c’mon,” he protested. This time, he really did drag his eyes away from the road for a second. They glinted playfully in the dark. You got a flash of pearly canine from the barest hint of a grin, but it was enough to put a stupid smile right across your face.

A sickening thud from beneath the hood zapped any false confidence you’d been building. There was a dull pop, then the engine died.

“What the- shit.” Hawks scrambled to put both hands on the wheel, navigating the car with what momentum remained over to the narrow shoulder. The tires hit gravel and soft mud, rolling pathetically to a stop and settling in damp silence.

“What the hell was that?” You leaned over the dashboard as your pulse came down from near-terminal velocity. There were half a dozen lights blinking away on the dashboard- symbols you couldn’t understand.

“Not sure.” Keigo was doing his best not to sound too perturbed. As a result, he was just perturbed enough.

You knew what those lights implied, though. Service due. Oil change due. Battery maintenance due.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed, “when was the last time you took this car in for service? It’s a miracle you even made it out of the goddamn garage.”

Hawks was in the process of mashing the engine start button like an arcade game. When you spoke up, he pushed it down and held. The engine gave a dull, sad sort of sputter, but nothing roared to life.

“Look, look,” he dismissed, waving a hand in your direction as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I don’t drive this thing that often, okay? I’m gonna go check under the hood.”

He climbed out of the driver’s side and slammed the door before giving you the chance to remind him to pop the hood. For a minute, you let him wallow in his mistake, watching gleefully as he pried at the seam of it. Finally, you unbuckled yourself and leaned over, flicking the release for him.

He gave an unamused glance toward the windshield and lifted the hood, obscuring all but the very tips of his drooping wings from view.

After about fifteen seconds, he ducked back into the car with a rush of cold air behind him. He rubbed his palms together as you watched, arms folded over your chest.

“So?” You prompted. He gave a sideways glance in your direction, blowing into his chilled hands.

“So what?”

“Oh my g- what’s wrong with the car?” You tried your best not to let panic set in.

“I don’t know. It’s just a bunch of pipes and wires under there. They didn’t exactly give me a map of the thing when I bought it.”

You’d seen Hawks pull people out of burning buildings before. You’d see him think on his feet, devise a plan and act on it in the blink of an eye. Usually, he was impulsive. Confident. Clever.

Tonight, on the other hand, he was demonstrating a very clear affinity for money over brains.

You flopped into your seat, scrubbing your hands over your face. You were not going to freak out. You refused to. It didn’t matter that Keigo had suddenly become useless in the face of disaster. You were heroes, even if you had to save your damned selves.

“Oh,” he quipped from beside you. “Still got bars. See?” As you peeked over at him through one cracked eyeball, he waved his illuminated phone screen at you. “It could be worse, kid. If this were a horror movie, this thing’d be dead.”

He tapped away on the screen, seeming very pleased with himself. Even his wings gave a little ruffle, draping themselves smoothly over the back of his seat again.

“I’ll call us a tow. We’ll be outta here in no time.”

A few minutes later, you had a map pulled up on your phone while Hawks’ brow creased deeper and deeper.

“Uh-huh.” His voice had taken on that irresistible deepness to it again, but this time it was sending pangs of dread through your gut.

“Right.” He brought a palm up to smooth over his jaw, fingertips bending and pressing idly against the patches of scruff that dusted it. “Y-yep, yeah, I understand. Fifty miles is a long way. I know it’s gonna be a lot to send a truck that far. But-“

As he was abruptly cut off by the other end of the line, those idle fingers slipped up to his temple, pressing inward and rubbing in stiff little circles.

“Okay. Alright. Yeah, I guess we’ll wait, ‘cause there’s not much else we can… I understand. Yes, thank you. Thank you. Okay, we’ll be here. Or within a ten-foot radius. Thanks. B-“

He blinked rapidly at the screen as he pulled it away from his ear. “Have an excellent night, sir,” he muttered under his breath. He let out a deep sigh, lifting a hip to tuck his phone away again.

“They said they would send someone,” he said, “but the depot is, like, fifty miles from here. Could be a couple of hours.”

“A couple hours?” That cold dread was settling into your chest again. So much for sleeping in your own bed.

“Yeah. C’mon, get out.”

“What?” You glanced past him at the frosted driver’s side window. “It looks freezing out there.”

“Well then, you’d better bundle up. C’mon. I’m gonna fly us back to the city.”

“No way. Hawks- Keigo.” You grabbed his arm and squeezed tightly as he made to get out of the car.

“What?” Exasperation was creeping into the edges of his voice. The sides of his gaze, too, as he landed against the seat back with a thud and turned his cheek to look at you.

“You’ve been flying all day. Your wings are shot. You’re not flying anywhere.”

“What? They’re fine.” He gave the appendages in question a defiant flutter and a cloud of expiring feathers floated into the backseat.

You folded your arms across your chest. Hawks gave a frustrated growl.

“What do you suggest, then?” He retorted in fierce opposition to your silence. “Just sit around and fucking… die of old age before the tow truck comes?”

“Oh my god, you’re the number two hero,” you snapped back. “When did you become such a drama queen? Yes, we’re going to wait. Like a normal person would have to.”

“I’m not being dramatic; I’m presenting you with a legitimate solution and you’re ignoring it!”

“If you try to fly us both out of here, you’re gonna hit the ground before we’re halfway home. And then we’ll be really stranded, with no water and no shelter. So, if you’d like to fly back all by yourself, I can’t stop you. But I’m not going to let you kill both of us.”

“Fine!” Hawks’ cheeks were flushed with temper as he kicked the door open and clambered out of the car. He kicked it shut again so hard the whole body rocked, and for a moment you were left, trapped in shocked silence.

He was really going to leave you out here. Alone.

Half a dozen heartbeats passed before his boots crunched on the shoulder and he wrenched the door open again, flopping back into the car with an immense sigh of irritated defeat.

“Fuckin’ freezing out there,” he muttered as quietly as possible.

You wanted to punch him.

“You ready to wait?”

His wings stiffened behind him, then drooped so lowly they seemed to disappear into the backseat. He looked at you from the corner of one tawny eye.

“Yeah.”

For the first hour, you honestly enjoyed yourself. As soon as Keigo accepted his fate, he got much closer to his usual mellow self. You finished off cold fries from dinner, listened to true crime podcasts on your phone, (you listened- he talked over the whole thing) and played a few ruthless games of hangman on a couple of napkins you found in the glove compartment.

You’d spent a lot of time with Hawks in a professional capacity. As partners, you took most of your missions together. You were well-versed in the way that he liked to think, the way he approached a job, a conversation. You worked well with each other and you were drawn to his quick wit and laid-back humour. Even if he was a piece of work at times, you made a strong team. But you didn’t do a whole lot of hanging out.

“Okay, that’s it,” he chided as you added an extravagant top hat to the completed, dressed hangman scrawled onto the inside fold of your last napkin. The word he’d failed to guess was ‘patience,’ and the irony of his struggling was not lost on you.

“Aw, c’mon,” you protested. “You’ve still got gloves and a bow tie left.”

“No, no, no.” He held up a palm, shaking his head. There was a good-natured grin curling his lip as he bowed toward the door. “I’m callin’ it. I gotta take a leak.”

You snatched your soda cup from the drink holder, clutching it protectively against your chest.

“You’re not going in here.”

Next, it was Hawks’ turn to shoot you a deadpan stare.

“How about in the woods? Is that allowed?”

Your cheeks went hot. “It’s pretty dark out there.”

“Aw.” Hawks shoved the door open. There was an unfamiliar glint to his eye as he tossed a mischievous look over his shoulder. “Guess you won’t be able to sneak a peek, then.”

You slammed your fist into his back. “Shut up and go take a piss.”  

As the car door clicked shut, you turned the other way out of sheer habit. All you could see in the opposite window was the reflection of your own face. Maybe it was just the dim light, but you looked exhausted. Keigo had seen you caked in blood, streaked by mud and soot before. But you’d both been awake since four o’clock that morning and there was a special kind of ugly feeling that came with overtiredness.

You were dreaming about the first thing you’d do when you got home again when Hawks climbed back into the car. He looked considerably brighter as he ducked inside, and he brought a flush of rich, earthy forest-smell along with him.

“Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it in the cold out there,” you quipped. Payback.

But Keigo just chuckled, shaking his head.

“Close the door,” you whined as the frigid air from outside finally reached your bare arms. “It’s already cold enough in here.”

“Aw,” he crooned, tugging the door shut behind him. “You scared of a little cold now, kid? It’s not so bad out there. Feel.”

He lunged at you, ducking rapidly to rub his frigid cheek against your shoulder. You let out a terse yelp and squirmed, trying to shove him back amid a sea of chilled giggles. He got a few passes of his icy skin on yours before you both realized how close you’d gotten.

Hawks cleared his throat and scooted away from you. In the bare light from the shitty overhead lamp, you were starting to see the outline of a flush creeping into his cheeks.

The light abruptly went out, leaving you in darkness again.

“Tell me something,” he mused, grabbing for the abandoned takeout bag and digging a hand into it. He produced a tiny wrapped square and tore it open with his teeth, removing the folded alcohol wipe from inside and gliding it with impossible grace over his fingertips. He eyed you sideways.

“How come we don’t hang out more?”

Your chest went cold. You’d been dreading that question all night. Longer than that, even.

“What d’you mean?” It was a gut response, but you instantly kicked yourself for even attempting to play dumb.

“You know,” he chided, dumping the wipe back into the paper bag once he was finished with it. “We work. We do interviews together. We do those bullshit PR functions together. I’ve known you- what, two years? And we’ve never even been for a drink. What gives, kid? Don’t tell me I grate on you.”

“I get plenty of you on company time,” you retorted. You were starting to panic. You weren’t ready for this conversation, but it didn’t seem like you were going to be rescued by the timely arrival of the tow truck.

“Okay, okay, I’d take that,” he laughed, “if you hadn’t agreed to take this mission with me. C’mon, this wasn’t exactly a nine-to-five gig.”

He paused. “Come out with me this weekend.” He nudged your shoulder with a bony elbow. You tried your best not to snap.

“Stop,” you pressed quietly. “You know why we don’t.”

The smirk slipped from Keigo’s face.

“What? Why?”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“Wait a second, there’s an actual reason? What the hell is it?”

The confusion was genuine on his face. Hawks could be a smarmy little shit when he wanted to be. But you could tell he wasn’t fucking with you.

“Oh my god.” The words slipped out like a deep breath. Your hand drifted to your mouth as cold shock ran over your skin. “You really don’t remember.”

“No.” His confusion was bordered with fear. He sat back a little, letting his eyes drift over your expression. “No, I really don’t.”

You swallowed hard. You should have known that you’d have to talk about this eventually. But he didn’t even remember the night that had been changing the way you acted around him for nearly a year.

“Last Christmas,” you began. Your breath was so short that it put a desperate hush to your voice that you absolutely hated. You revelled in your ability to act casual around him, but the more probing he got, the harder that composure was slipping.

“At the agency gala. You remember the party, right?”

Hawks rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, and I got trashed.” He paused. Realization dawned on his face, and he shot you the deepest, most sincere look of concern you’d ever seen. Even more sincere than the look that crossed his face when you got shot off the roof of a house and broke a rib.

He leaned forward.

“Did I do something?” He swept a palm over his mouth, fingertips dallying at his chin. You knew exactly how he felt in that moment. You’d been there before, too, realizing that you’d lost control. Blacked out. Understanding that you might have done something you were going to regret.

“You really don’t remember a thing?” It was your turn to be horrified. How could something that consumed your every thought stay so damned far from his?

His fingers were still curved around the point of his chin. He’d gone white, and he shook his head as his eyes cast down to his lap.

“You fucking kissed me, okay?” You snarled with a whip of frustration. “There was mistletoe and you kissed me under it and-and Christ, I can’t believe you.”

“What? What?” He demanded as his voice grew defensively sharp.

“I had no idea what you were gonna do. What you were gonna say, what was gonna change between us. I showed up to the agency the next morning and your hungover ass acted like nothing had ever happened.”

“Of course I did,” he defended, “I didn’t think anything did happen. Oh my God, did I really kiss you?” His wings were coming to life all of a sudden, bristling on either side of his seat. There was a dull whisp as one edge of them brushed against the window. They seemed to expand, along with his horror, to fill the entire car.

He pushed further. “Well, did you… did you want me to?”

You could see where his thoughts were taking him. The answer was an impossible dilemma. To lead him further down that path would not only be cruel, it would be untrue. But to tell him the truth- that you had wanted it- would be to shatter the fragile illusion of casual, platonic intimacy that you’d been building over the last two years.

You chewed your lower lip. Hard enough to hurt.

“Oh god, you didn’t,” he gasped. That was enough for you to lift your chin and shoot him a sudden, sad, pathetic little look.

“Jesus,” he gasped again, deeper this time. “You did.”

“Look,” you snapped. “I was never gonna say anything to you. I was never gonna push it. You didn’t feel that way and I knew that and I just wanted to work.”

He told you enough about his personal life as it was. Every date he swung in from on Monday morning, every Friday night he spent preening in the last hours of the workday hurt enough already. If you’d grown close, fallen harder, it would’ve become too much to bear.

“What do you mean, I didn’t feel that way? What way don’t I feel? How could you even know that?” He was beginning to raise his voice back at you and the adrenaline was pushing you way too far to listen.

“Because you never said a fucking word to me about that kiss! You pretended like it never even happened, Kei! What was I supposed to think!”

“If you’d asked me, you woulda known that I didn’t speak up ‘cause I didn’t remember a goddamn thing!” Keigo jammed a finger into his temple. His golden eyes flashed. He was so fucking hot when he was angry, but this was not a fight you ever wanted to have.

Luckily for you, he was having it without you.

“What do you want me to say to that?” He snarled. “Huh? What- you want me to tell you that I’m sorry for not having psychic powers? That I’m sorry I didn’t hire a mind-reader to tell me what the fuck was going on with you?”

He scrubbed his hands over his face. You were on the verge of tears.

“I-I never-“ you began, but Keigo beat you to the punch,

“You know, maybe I noticed that you were actin’ funny around me. And maybe I should’ve asked. But maybe if you ask yourself, and if you really, honestly give yourself the truest answer, you’d be able to admit that you knew how I felt about you. That you always knew.”

“Of course I knew!”

Your response echoed raw and deafening in the silence of the car. You’d lost your temper and shouted it at him with every decibel left in your breathless chest. Your fists were clenched atop your frigid thighs as you bent over in your seat, shivering. To your immense embarrassment, warm tears trickled down the sides of your nose.

He was right, after all. Every sideways smile he’d given you was just a little too broad to be friendly. Every time he caught you by the hand, he held it just a little too long. Every time he offered you the crook of his elbow at a stuffy charity gala and every time he poured you into a cab at the end of the night, he promised to take good care of you. Every time he looked at you at all it was with a depth that you had recognized, but never understood.

“But look at us, Kei. Look at what we do to each other.”

You sniffled, scrubbing tears off your cheeks with the heels of your hands. He reached for you, seeking to comfort, but his hands twitched midair and he drew back instead.

“Yeah,” he croaked. You tossed a glance in his direction. He looked more dejected than you’d seen him in a long time. He rested both hands on top of the wheel, the rest of his body sagging against the seat back.

“Except now I’ve told you,” you continued. “And now we both know, so everything’s fucked no matter what.”

You were met with silence. The truth was dawning on you. You hated to even consider it, but it felt like what needed to be done.

“When we get back to the city,” you started. Hawks interrupted you with a low rasp of your name.

“No, when we get back, I’m giving you my resignation.”

“Fuck, stop.”

Keigo lunged, grabbing you by the back of the neck and pulling you toward him. He rested his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. The warmth of his closeness weighed on you like a heavy quilt. You couldn’t even pretend not to be immensely comforted by affection from him.

“I’m not gonna let you do that, kid.”

You were both drawing deep breaths- slow, rolling gulps of air that matched over gradual time. You licked your lips, bracing your chilled palms on his shoulders. Your fingertips brushed the very edges of his feathered hair, dull and soft in the dark.

You’d talked each other down from bigger, badder edges before. But this one had sharp, jagged rocks waiting at the bottom. This one, you were going to have to jump from together.

“I can’t do this,” you pleaded. “I can’t keep myself away from you like this.”

“Don’t.” His voice was hushed and so achingly tender, like he couldn’t take the command himself.

“I can’t-“

“Then, don’t.”

He was firmer this time, and the pad of his thumb brushed the bottom of your lip. He pulled back just a hair, grazing the tip of his nose across yours. The heat of his breath puffed over your lips and his blonde eyelashes threatened to tickle your cheek.

He drew in a slow, calculated breath.

“Lemme kiss you. Lemme try again. I’m not gonna forget it this time, I swear.”

“Keigo, please.”

“Just lemme try. Just once. I’ll never ask you again, if you don’t want me to.” He pulled back the rest of the way and your body keened at the loss, but he looked deeply into your eyes. Deeply like he’d never been allowed to look before.

You licked your lips. Considered it for half a heartbeat. Then you gave a slow little nod.

“Okay.”

To your surprise, he didn’t lunge again. He took his time with you. He cupped your cheeks tenderly between his bare palms, memorizing the curve of your face. He stared, taking you in like this. At his mercy.

Finally, he leaned in and captured your mouth in a soft kiss, heartbreakingly loving. You responded eagerly, blossoming beneath his touch and bracing your hands on the broad plane of his chest. Your fingers curled in the fleece that lined his coat.

You kissed back with near-desperate urgency, shamelessly showing him how touch-starved you’d become. Dating was pointless when Keigo stole your whole heart every time you showed up to work.

The quiet press of his tongue had your jaw going slack in his hands. Your kiss went needy all at once, and he licked into your mouth with a hunger behind his movements that you never anticipated sensing from him.

You broke from him first, turning your cheek to him as your lungs burned. Your mouth was swollen, and you gasped greedily for whatever stale air lingered between you. He grabbed your chin and forced your eyes back to his.

His gaze was fearsome. Ravenous. You were powerless beneath it.

You combed your fingers through his hair like you’d always wanted to, settling your palm at the nape of his neck. Your own voice was nearly unrecognizable, nothing more than a feral growl.

“Get in the back.”

Hawks took one look at the narrow gap between his seat and yours and sat up, nudging the driver’s side door open. He climbed eagerly into the road and then back into the back seat, settling in the center with his legs and wings splayed wide.

Meanwhile, you took the opportunity to wiggle out of your boots and pants and slam dunk everything into the foothold of the passenger’s seat. You climbed over the center console in your underwear and settled into his lap.

Even though you had to bow your head against the cushioned ceiling, it was a holy sensation. Your thighs settled perfectly into the crooks of Keigo’s legs, and his hands slid so naturally over the curves of your hips. It was as if you’d done this before.

You kissed him again, using the weight of your newly boosted height to descend hard and loving against his lips. He grabbed you hard by the ass, drawing you smooth and tight against his hips.

“God,” he groaned eagerly into your mouth.

“You’re so. Fucking. Perfect,” you hissed back into his, and he squeezed you harder, breaking his lips from yours to trail a hungry path of kisses along the edge of your jaw. His scruff scratched at your chin just like you imagined it would. You loved him like this- trimmed, unshaven. The rougher, the better.

“Don’t say that,” he purred dangerously close to your ear. “You’ve seen me at my worst.”

You tried not to grin, remembering Keigo barfing over the balcony of the Plaza after one too many charity-benefit martinis. Keigo caked in ooze after cutting open that sludge villain from the inside. Keigo on the verge of tears, just a few minutes ago.

“I still think so,” you pressed, and he smiled against your cheek. His wings, tired and bruised but majestic as ever, stiffened proudly. They were capped firmly by the cramped space that surrounded you, but the feathers that spread across the back seat were sleek and graceful.

You dug your fingertips between his jacket and his t-shirt, feeling the warmth of his torso all over. He did his best to shrug it open, but the material was caught up on his wings- no getting it off now.

He wound his hands into the hem of his shirt and tugged it up for you. The skin you could feel by slipping your fingers underneath was all you were going to get.

Not that it mattered to you. It was far more than you’d let yourself so much as picture before. While you felt your way across his heated abdomen, he dipped his head to your pulse point. He scraped the points of his teeth across your tender flesh, making you sigh and shiver. He pressed a hand to the small of your back to keep you close and nibbled all the way down to your neckline, leaving a trail of tiny welts in his wake.

They would fade by morning. Tonight, the feeling was enough.

He glided smooth, tender fingers up your sides. You straightened, letting him wedge your long-sleeved t-shirt up around your shoulders. You had to bend even further and press your forehead awkwardly against his shoulder to wrench it off. Once he peeled the fabric over your head, you tossed it haphazardly toward the front seat. Keigo was already going to work on his fly.

The tender press of his erection had grown apparent by that point, stiff and needing down one thigh of his thick pants. You reached between your legs and palmed it indulgently. There was an answering throb of arousal in the pit of your belly as you felt the shape and thickness of it trapped against his body, and an even stronger one when his hips pressed into your touch and he gave a low rumble of approval.

“Don’t act so surprised,” he crooned. With his pants unfastened, and the bulk of his cock shifted to the stretchy pouch of his undershorts, he slid a fingertip down the plane of your belly and curled two graceful digits between your thighs.

“Are you wet for me yet?” He shot you a deep, lustful stare. You rocked your hips against his fingers, hopeless in resisting the pleasure he offered. Keigo nudged the crotch of your thong easily aside, dipping his middle finger against your slit.

He sucked a sharp breath through clenched teeth as you gave a simultaneous yelp of stimulation. When he looked up at you again, he bore a sly little grin. You’d seen it a thousand times before, but never with such desire. And never all for you.

“You’re drippin’, kid.” He arched his palm, slipping that finger slowly upward and easing it inside you. There was no stretch, but the sensation of intimacy- of being felt in such a way by those hands that you’d never dared to fantasize about- was intoxicating in its own right.

Keigo was, apparently, feeling it, too. His eyes were deeply lidded, glazed completely by his own desire. The tip of his cock had found its way over the waistband of his undershorts, weeping shiny precum against his stomach and the bottom of his shirt.

He curled a blunt fingertip inside you, massaging your tender front wall. The feeling rappelled up the column of your spine and brought deep trembles forward. It brought fresh handfuls of wet slick from your depths, gliding down his palm and between his fingers. He took the hints your body offered and rubbed faster, watching the way your expression morphed from desire to pleasure.

“Stop,” you hushed, leaning forward and pushing your lips to his. He drew his hand back from you immediately, settling it on your thigh. The wet little print it left against your skin wasn’t lost on you.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” you replied. “Just ready for you.”

He gave a low, loving little chuckle and shifted beneath you. “Can’t hold out any longer?”

You smiled into his hair. “Don’t want to.”

“Fair enough.” His smile was even, but the tug in his voice betrayed his fraying nerves. It thrilled you to know that you weren’t the only one putting way too much emotional stock in this. It was immensely validating to discover that he’d been anticipating it, too.

He wiggled and squirmed against the backseat, shucking his pants and underwear down over his thighs and letting his cock pop out. It bobbed against his stomach- thicker than you’d imagined- framed by a trimmed scruff of tawny hair that disappeared under his shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed in spite of yourself.

“I know, right?” He rasped. He reached for you, cupping your jaw. He brought your forehead down to his, giving a weak laugh. “What the hell have we been waitin’ for?”

“We just needed the bottle episode to shove us together,” you giggled. “C’mon, we’re a walking trope right about now.”

“We’re about to become a different trope if you don’t let me fuck you.” It was his turn to play the desperate card. But the ache between your thighs had not dulled, even a little.

He wrapped his fingers around the base of his shaft and you lifted your hips. He gave the heated tip a playful little swipe along your slick slit, but his game backfired when both of you let out tight cries of sensation.

You rocked your hips forward, taking his tip eagerly inside. The sensation was toe-curling, made even better by the way he held you tightly against him, nosing at your ear and kissing any patch of skin he could reach.

He brought his free palm to your ass as soon as you were situated, helping you slide the rest of the way onto his cock. With your knees braced on either side of his lap and your feet pressed tightly against the front seat, you let him bottom out. And for a moment, you just sat there.

“Jesus,” Keigo sighed, lolling his head against the seat behind him. You still had your head deeply bowed, trapped in the space that seemed just an inch too tight.

“I…” Your thighs shuffled. Your hips gave a little squirm. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough. Keigo cracked an eye and lifted his chin, sensing a problem.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just…” Your cheeks went hot. You licked your lips. “I can’t move.”

His gaze cast downward, to the place where you were joined. He took in the press of your thighs, the curve of your neck. He snorted.

“No, you can’t. C’mere, kid, I gotcha.” He planted that palm on your ass again, drawing your hips forward and up, as far as you could take them. Your head and neck bowed with the rest of your back as he draped your upper body over his chest and held you tightly against him.

Then he planted his feet and gave one good, deep thrust. Your innards gave a jerk. Oh, fuck.

“That’s it,” you panted into his ear. He nodded tensely.

“Yeah?” He prompted. “That’s workin’ for ya? Alright, alright. We’ve got this, kid, c’mon. Lemme show you somethin’ good, okay?”

One thrust sent you spiralling. But the rhythm that he dove into- steady, tough, fluid- sent every nerve through your body into meltdown. You were entirely incapable of dealing with such pleasure, combined with the emotions that swirled through your lovestruck brain.

It felt as though you had been holding out needlessly for all this time. Like all the hurt and frustration and heartbreak you shed over him would be evaporated, now that you understood that he wanted you like this, too.

Like that was all there was. You, Hawks, and the free love you could now share.

“I’m n-not-“ Keigo stuttered, piping up after a series of breathless pants and airy groans, “n-not gonna last much longer, kid, you’re… really gonna make me feel it.”

“Yeah,” you breathed back. You looped your arms tightly around his neck, tilting your hips forward. You could feel the barest hint of stimulation when your clit brushed his belly, so you leaned into it- aching for your own release.

His rhythm doubled as the intensity of your pleasure spiked dangerously high, and when you gripped him hard and rocked your hips in time with his, there was a low, warning pull that echoed all the way up to your throat. You were close. Very close.

Your head dropped backward and Keigo leaned forward, drawing his mouth up the vulnerable column of your throat. He panted hard and heavy against your pulse point.

“That’s it, kid, that’s fuckin’ it, baby, oh, God, I’m g-gonna f-fucking… I- shit, I- can’t… fffuck!”

Keigo let a vicious roar tear from his throat as he reached his vibrant peak. His erratic thrusts brought you to a tight little climax, too, and you clung to him and whined and rode through the pleasure as he fucked madly up inside you, spurting messy shots of cum into your depths.

Gravity took hold of his pleasure, dripping it onto his shaft and pooling it in a sloppy mess between you. And when it was all finally over, you collapsed against his body and you both stayed, airless and spent, wrapped tightly around one another.

It was the bright flash of headlights on the back of his neck that brought you to the surface, moments later.

The inside of the car was warm and stuffy and damp. Had you just come in from outside, you might have realized that it reeked of sex. Sweat and breath and fluid and feeling. The windows were near-opaque, fogged by the dampness of your lovemaking.

It was a moment you might have loved to capture, if you weren’t about to be so rudely interrupted.

The light in your rear windshield was bright white and flashing orange. Unmistakable.

“The tow truck,” you wheezed, scrambling off of Keigo’s lap. “Oh, fuck.”

“Get dressed,” he muttered weakly, already scrambling to get himself cleaned up and decent. He was far more dressed than you were, so you did your best to climb back into the passenger’s seat and slide back into your own clothes. You banged your shin hard on the center console, and your head on the ceiling as your body flailed in retaliation. You crumpled into the front seat and nearly kneed yourself in the mouth trying to scramble back into your pants.

By the time you climbed out of the car, fully dressed, with a few additional bruises, Hawks was already standing on the shoulder, talking to the driver. The driver was wagering a few guesses on what might be wrong with the car. Hawks’ eyes had already glazed over.

“Hey,” he greeted, as he spotted you emerging over his shoulder. He introduced you quietly to the driver before the ballcap-wearing, bearded man spoke again.

“Yeah,” he gruffed, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll give you a lift to garage nearby. It’s kinda late, but he keeps weird hours. I bet he’ll take a look for you, it’s prob’ly an easy fix.”

“That sounds great,” you gushed, clasping your palms together. There was a lot of stiffness settling in around your hips and thighs. You couldn’t be sure if it was a result of the compromising position you’d nearly been discovered in or the whole lot of not moving you’d done for hours before that.

Either way, it felt good to stretch your legs.

“You c’n go ahead and hop in the back,” the driver directed, waving the key that Keigo had apparently already given him in indication. “I’ll get you hooked up, no problem.”

Keigo opened the truck door for you, and you climbed over the passenger’s seat into the back. He followed closely behind you, tugging the door shut and slouching into the opposite side.

You sat in silence; hands clasped between your knees. A confusing air settled between you.

You felt vulnerable and raw and moony. You wanted to hold his hand and curl up to him in the back seat. Kiss his cheeks and tell him how good it was, tell him how much you felt.

For you, though, it could never be that simple. There was no free love for heroes like you.

Pay later, always.

Keigo felt the weight of your gaze. He turned to meet your eyes and shot you a thin smile. You’d seen the look that he’d turned to hide from you, though.

The truck driver climbed into the front seat before words could pass between you. But you didn’t need to hear them to know what they were going to be.

You didn’t need a warning to understand what Monday morning at the agency was going to look like.

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

[guiltgoreglory]

Heat Waves (Chapter 1: A Warm Welcome)

(Very) Brief Summary: Reader is a government contractor joining the team in Benghazi.  (Eventual Tanto x Reader) (2,684 words)

Chapter 2

Foreword: In this series, the reader will be loosely based off of Nikita from the TV show Nikita (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nikita_(TV_series)). The reader has an extensive background in black-ops and is currently an independent contractor working with the department of defense in coordination with the executive branch. If you have any questions about the character, feel free to reach out to me and I can clarify. The story will generally follow the plot of the movie with the exception of a few scenes. Lastly, the POV will shift throughout the story, a change in POV will be signaled by a line.

Author’s Note: Hey guys! I have a full plot already set up but it has been a long time since I’ve written a fic. I’m so sorry if the writing is kinda shitty but I really wanted to get it down in writing. I hope you like it!

You closed your eyes and rested your head against the headrest, trying to find an ounce of comfort in the cramped seat. The dull hum of the plane was cut through by various murmurs amongst the travelers. After a minute or two, you deemed the effort fruitless, letting out a frustrated sigh. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked out the window, watching as the monotonous view trailed by. For the next several weeks, maybe even months, you’d once again become acclimated to discomfort. This shitty seat is probably as good as it gets, you thought. The department will likely have you shacked up in some storage closet on a grimy 20-year-old cot. You have had worse and at least you’d be occupied. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Silva shift. You turned, watching him from a row back, across the aisle. He grimaced as he took off his wedding ring, putting it into a small metal container. He didn’t appear to notice your gaze as you turned your attention back to the window, the heat already radiating in. You felt sorry for him. Leaving people behind is never easy, especially kids. Luckily, you didn’t have that problem. 

As the plane began its descent you skimmed the team comp in your head. You’d been thoroughly briefed on the contractors, on top of all the research you had done on your own. You were joining alongside Jack Silva. A family man in real estate. Pushed to fly back overseas for the money to support his family. From all that you had seen, he’s a good guy. He seemed to be good company. It’ll be nice to not be the only strange face, you thought.

You readied yourself. Benghazi is far worse than most believed. Ever since the department even suggested you might be helpful here, you’d been keeping track of the chaos. It was only a matter of time before it erupted into a full-blown civil war. 

As the landing zone came into view you checked your hijab, making sure not a hair was out of place. You wore a casual white button-down shirt with a gray tank top underneath. You unfolded the sleeves, covering as much of your skin as possible. Given the heat, you’d love to run out in something a little more breathable, but the beige cargo pants would have to do. Next, you checked your “cello” case that sat in the seat next to you. Moving the strap towards you for a quick and effortless disembark. Being you had its perks, one of which was bringing some of your own firepower. 

You cracked your neck as a familiar ding came over the com. 

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

_

The two men settled into the car, watching over all the civilians walking past. Rone leaned forward, pulling a handgun out of the back of his pants. “It’s loaded.” Jack accepted the gun readily, cocking it within his lap. 

“How’s the team here?” 

“Good. Three ex-marines, one ex-army ranger. It’ll be nice to have some more team guys around.”

Jack briefly glanced back at Rone. “Guys?”

“Yeah. We’re waiting on one more before we head out.”

“You work with him before?”

“Nope. Defense department assigned her.”

Jack furrowed his brow slightly, pursing his lips in surprise. “Alrighty then, what’s she look like?” Jack looked more intently for another westerner standing out like a sore thumb. 

“No idea. I’ve been told that she will find us.”

“Oh how ominous.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lip. 

Rone hummed in agreement as he eyed the rearview mirror. Out of the crowd, a body began to beeline towards the car. “Think that’s her.”

Jack nonchalantly stretched, turning towards the back of the car to catch a look. 

_

You approached the dust-covered truck, already craving shade from the burning sun. Your sunglasses did little to protect your eyes from the glare off of the ground. As you got closer, you could see Tyrone eying you from the side mirrors. You adjusted the straps of both your cello case and your duffel, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You made your way to the driver’s side door, turning to face him. “You Tyrone?” you asked, knowing full well it was.

“Yes, Ma’am. And you are?”

“Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Hop in.”

You nodded, moving back towards the rear of the car. Swinging the back door open, you threw your stuff onto the ground next to the seat. Leaving just enough room for you to climb in. As you sat down, you angled yourself towards Jack so that you could have a proper introduction. He noticed your movement, turning back to face you. He reached out his hand for a handshake. 

“Jack Silva”

You took his hand. “Y/N.” 

He settled back into his seat as Rone started the car. “Just Y/N?”

“Just Y/N.” You affirmed. 

As Rone made his way through the city they began to catch up, making friendly jabs at each other. You yanked your duffel towards you, rummaging through the various clothes. You could feel Jack’s eyes peeking at you ever so often through the mirror, making sure you weren’t doing anything unsavory. Trust is earned.  Finally, you found your shoulder holster. You unbuttoned your shirt, throwing it on the seat beside you. You put on the holster, adjusting the straps as needed so that it sat comfortably. After you were satisfied you again began to look through your luggage, pulling out two black pistols. You loaded a magazine into both of the guns. The sound quickly drew the attention of both men as the conversation briefly paused before they returned to their conversation. You paid them no mind, knowing that any response would probably make them more antsy. You then cocked them before placing them within your holster. Grabbing your shirt, you put it back on, leaving it unbuttoned. It was opaque enough to conceal your firearms as long as no one looked too close. 

“So, Y/N,” Rone directing the conversation towards you, “The Defense Department didn’t tell me much about you. What branch you from?” 

You turned from watching out the side of the car. “Covert operations.” 

That definitely piqued his interest. Jack let Rone do the questioning, but it was clear he was just as curious as him. 

“Alright. SEAL Team?”

“Uh, no. It’s a little more complicated.”

“Oh I get it, you’re on some James Bond shit huh.” He chuckled to himself as you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Pretty much.”

Rone left the questioning there, knowing he’d probably not get much more of an answer, at least not until you’d come to know him a bit better. The two of them shared a look before the car came to a sudden stop. 

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no this isn’t good.” Rone’s body tensed as he assessed the situation. 

Civilians began to run around the car, whimpering in fear. You straightened up, readying for a shit show. You positioned yourself in the middle of the back, between the two men so you could see as much as possible through the windshield. 

“Fuck.” Rone’s discomfort quickly seeped through his cool resolve. “Who the fuck are these guys?” 

“What do we got?” Jack stayed still, his eyes scanning over the various armed men.

“Brigade we coordinate with, February Seventeenth Martyrs. This ain’t them.” He looked back past you and he switched into reverse. Moving back a few feet, the path was blocked and the car jolted forward. “Shit we’re boxed in.”

You settled on your knees, carefully unclipping the straps keeping your guns in place, just in case. Both men leaned out of the window. Jack looking up towards the man on the balcony readied to run.

“We bailing?” He asked, voice calm and collected.

Rone, giving no response, pulled out his radio. “Base this is Rone. Come in, over.”

“This is Base, go Rone.”

“I’m in a Jam off Fifth Ring Road. I’m lookin’ at about 8 armed tangos here.”

“Copy that, sit tight.”

“Sit tight, that’s great advice.” Everyone in the car became increasingly more agitated as the armed militia made its way in your direction. 

You took a deep breath. “If we’re bailing we gotta do it now.” You glanced at your bags. You could leave the duffel. There wasn’t anything particularly important in there. The case on the other hand couldn’t be lost to a rampant terrorist cell, if you did, the government would be up your ass about it for at least another 10 years. You fidgeted slightly, knowing that the opportunity to flee was about to pass.

Jack clenched his jaw. “They got a KPV.”

Fuck this is bad. 

“Base we ain’t got all day.”

“Hey, Rone. They’re trying to get Feb 17 to back you up, but we’re coming.”

Deeming that transmission utterly useless, Rone whipped out his cell. “Oz I’m in a jam of Fifth Ring.”

“Ty.” Jack interjected as the men became uncomfortably close.

“Rone, 17 Feb QRF is being alerted.”

“Fuck that, the only Quick Reaction force I want is my guys.” Without an immediate response, Rone continued on. “Send them. I want my guys.” He said more adamantly. 

“Negative, Rone. Just hang in there.”

“Maybe I’m not making myself clear. I’m looking at multiple radical insurgents with AKs and a 50-cal technical set to blow my rover all the way back to Zimbabwe. Over.”

You watched as a man dressed in a disheveled suit made his way around the vehicles and debris. He’s the big guy.

“It’s not my call, brother.”

Goddamnit. Looks like we’re either talking our way through this, or we go out quick. The thought gave you the slightest bit of comfort.

Rone looked towards Jack frustrated. You could sense he felt an inch of guilt for getting his friend stuck in this hellhole.

“Here we go.” Jack said nonchalantly as he could given the circumstances.

You crossed your arms, giving yourself easy access to your handguns without looking too conspicuous. A man stood at the front of the rover, yelling something you couldn’t understand. He pointed his AK right at you, maybe it wasn’t on purpose but you couldn’t help but mentally scoff. Well, that’s not very nice.

“Welcome to Benghazi.”

The man in front banged on the hood as the leader moved towards the driver’s side window. Jack raised his hands up innocently as Rone smiled at the man. 

“Salaam.” Rone raised his badge up to the man in the suit as he gazed at him incredulously. “Libyan visa. Official. Libyan government.” The leader looked him up and down. 

The guy with the AK was now in Jack’s face. His gaze shifted forward, doing his best to remain calm despite the barrel of a gun being inches from his forehead.

“Friendly? Hm? Friendly?” Rone again gestured with his badge.

Rone whatever game you’re playing it better fucking work because last time I checked a friend of Al-Qaeda is no friend of ours. You did your best to blend into the back of the car, feigning as the harmless woman. 

“Pull over for inspection.” The leader said sternly.

Rone shook his head. “No.” 

“Pull over for inspection!” He was now angry, his voice shaking with every word.

Alright, this is how it’s gonna go. You crept your hands slightly closer to your guns.

Rone’s voice remained steady. “I’m sorry, sir. I can’t do that.”

The man at Jack’s door yelled once more. Banging his palm against the dirty surface. Then the slightest movement came from Jack. 

It’s showtime. You thought. You gripped your pistols and whipped them forward, pointing them as the secondary soldier positioned at the front of the rover. Jack and Rone acted similarly with Jack’s gun pointed across at the leader, and Rone’s gun pointed at the soldier beside the door. The soldier at the front adjusted his AK, pointing it more fervently towards the car. 

“Look up.” Rone pointed towards the sky with his empty hand, never moving his gaze from the leader’s eyes. “Go ahead, look up.” Some of the aggression left the leader as he looked towards the sky, confused. “You see the drone?” The man looked back down. “No? That’s okay. The drone sees you.”

Nice play, Rone. You thought to yourself. A couple of Americans? No problem. We don’t pose that much of a threat. But good ol’ American air support? Now that carries a little weight. 

“Sees your face. We know who you are.”

Jack, facing the soldier at his door, swallows hard. Keeping with Rone’s power play, he maintains eye contact.

“If anything happens to us, your home, your family, boom, gone. Give us the order to let us go.”

Jack, looking past the AK in his face, doesn’t flinch as the soldier gestures with his gun.

 “I want the car!” 

Within a brief moment, Jack and Rone switched their aim, with Jack now pointing his handgun at the soldier and Rone at the leader. You flinched ever so slightly at the movement, but you remained steady, watching for any worrisome movement amongst the militia. Adrenaline pumped through your veins as you could feel your heart pounding in your chest. You ignored the harsh metal of the rover digging into your knees. This was your guys’ only shot to make it out of this cramped alley. They had to think your little caravan of three had the power of the entire U.S. military revolving overhead when in reality, you were just three Americans with a couple of guns in the middle of fuckin nowhere.

“No, I’m not gonna do that.” Jack shakes his head, leaning forward towards the man. The energy around the car was beginning to shift. Despite the KPV having enough firepower to destroy your car, and about 5 cars behind you, you three possessed the upper hand. They recoiled at the barrel of your guns, not the other way around.

The leader’s eyes began to soften, his harsh exterior falling at the thought of losing everything. For a moment, you actually pitied him. “I earn the right to decide the future of my country.” You understood the sentiment behind his words. Once again the U.S. had shoved itself into the center of a country, with no right to do so. But you, and the men sat beside you, just wanted to keep others safe. You had no agenda.

“You’re talking to the wrong guy. How willing are you to die for your country? I’m ready to go right here, right now.” Easy, Tyrone. Don’t push it too far. 

The leader’s frown deepened as he considered the weight of Rone’s words. He slowly backed away from the car. “Leave here. While you still can.”

You stopped yourself from relaxing your figure even though it felt like the weight of the world had just been lifted off your shoulders. Rone leaned back into his seat, beginning to maneuver the car between the debris. Jack slowly lowered his pistol to the door as the car inched forward. You followed suit and lowered your guns into your lap. You could hear the leader yelling to his men, and their posture relaxed enough to show they weren’t an immediate threat. Air filled your lungs for the first time in what felt like 5 minutes, before you looked behind through the dusty back window, making sure the leader was true to his word and you weren’t about to get shot in the back. You settled back onto your seat, leaning back against the warm metal. You debated holstering your weapons but decided it was best to have them at the ready until you were within the walls of the base.

“We got air support?” Jack’s voice was calm but demanding. You knew the answer to his question but left Rone to give him the bad news. Rone didn’t take his eyes off of the road as he did his best to make it back to base in one piece. 

“We don’t have any fucking support.”

#Tanto x Reader #Tanto/Reader #Tanto x Y/N #13 Hours #Pablo Schreiber #Tanto #Kris Paronto #Kris Paronto x Reader #Kris Paronto/Reader

[juliandev0rak]

Into The Wild  

Chapter 1: Daisy

✧ Into The Wild Series ✧ playlist ✧ 

words: 2468

Willa Clary gets out of her car and shuts the door with a dull slam, sending up a cloud of dust and scaring off a lizard who had been sunning on a nearby rock. She surveys her surroundings with a grin, taking in the trees, the small clearing of wooden cabins, and the shiny blue lake in the distance. She pulls a faded brochure from her pocket and reads the words she’s read about a thousand times over the last few months:

“Camp Vesuvia: eight weeks of summer fun!” 

The photograph on the front shows the same view she’s looking at, but the scene in front of her is far more beautiful than the photo. The trees are more green, the sky more blue, and the cabins around her look even more charming. In the summer heat the air seems to shimmer, giving everything a slightly magical quality. Willa decides that she loves the place already.

When Asra, her best friend and old college roommate, told her about the job opening at the summer camp he works at, she’d jumped at the chance. Asra has told her plenty of stories about what goes on during a summer at Camp Vesuvia and with every story she found herself wanting to be a part of it. He told her about the other people who work there and how fun it is to get to know all of the campers, he told stories of roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories around the fire. He’d also mentioned how beautiful the scenery is, but his description hadn’t done it justice.

All of Asra’s stories brought Willa back to her own childhood, spent in a tiny rural town where exploring nature was pretty much the only activity available. She’d moved away to the big city for college, where she’d hoped to find her way. But after graduating she’d found herself with a degree, but no job, and an aching feeling that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be.

And since Willa loves nature and children (and also really needed a job) she figured a job at a summer camp would be a perfect fit for her. So she’d packed her bags and driven out into the middle of nowhere, her home for the next eight weeks.

The door of the cabin closest to her opens with the sound of a bell, and Willa’s eyes are drawn to the tall woman standing in the doorway. Her height draws attention, as does her brightly colored purple hair. Willa takes in the woman’s perfectly styled outfit and heeled boots, she doesn’t look like she belongs in the middle of the woods, but something about her seems very welcoming.

“Welcome, Willa, we’ve been expecting you!” The woman calls, beckoning her over with a perfectly manicured hand. 

“Hi! You must be Nadia?” Willa asks, moving to shake the camp director’s already outstretched hand. 

“Yes I am, if you should require anything over the course of the summer I can be found here in the office. I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival, Asra has told me quite a bit about you,” Nadia smiles, shutting the door behind them as Willa follows her inside. 

The front room of the cabin is small but well decorated. A large polished wood desk takes up the majority of the room and bookshelves and filing cabinets cover most of the remaining wall space. Nadia settles into the chair behind the desk and Willa takes the empty seat in front of it. She looks around as Nadia searches for a file, taking in the stylish furnishing and decor which looks surprisingly perfect in the wood paneled cabin.

Nadia finds the correct file and riffles through it briefly before pulling out a small stack of paper which she hands to Willa. “I’ll just need your final signature on some of the paperwork and we’ll get you all settled in. We expect the first round of campers tomorrow morning at nine, and things will only get busier after then.”

“How many campers do you expect in total?” Willa asks. She looks through the paperwork quickly as she signs it, standard onboarding and personal information, all as expected. 

Nadia frowns slightly at the question and her forehead furrows, portraying a bit of the stress hidden behind her cheerful facade. “We have nearly seventy campers staying for the entire summer, the most we’ve ever had at one time. Which is precisely why I decided to take on more help. We have a small but reliable staff here but I thought it was time for some reinforcements.”

Willa hands over the completed paperwork and watches as Nadia carefully looks it over. “Wow, that’s a lot of kids, but I’m sure we can handle it!”

“That’s the sort of encouraging spirit we need around here,” Nadia smiles. “Asra told me you were an ‘eternal optimist’ and I hoped his description would prove accurate.” 

Willa blushes slightly at the compliment and smiles back at Nadia, making a mental note to thank Asra later for his apparently glowing recommendation. “It’s easy to be optimistic in a place as beautiful as this.”

The sound of a bell alerts them as the front door opens and Nadia stands to greet the person entering, “Ah, here’s Asra.” 

“Willa!” Asra calls from behind her and WIlla nearly knocks her chair over in her haste to hug him.

“Asra! I’ve missed you!” Willa takes in the familiar appearance of her friend. Asra wears a pair of overalls over a “Camp Vesuvia” shirt. A name tag pinned to one of the straps says his name, written in familiar handwriting and accented with a sparkly smiley face sticker. 

“I’m happy you decided to take my advice and come to Camp Vesuvia, you’re going to love it here,” Asra says. 

“Yes, I hope that you will, Willa,” Nadia smiles at the two of them before taking her seat again. She points to the wall behind Willa, “Your room key is hanging on that board, it’s the one with the red ribbon. I’ll leave Asra to show you the way. I'm quite busy with last minute preparations, but I hope you’ll find the lodgings comfortable.”

Willa turns to the board, spotting the key hanging all the way at the top. “Thank you, Nadia!” She stands on her tiptoes to reach for the key and Asra laughs, reaching up from behind her. He easily grabs the key and hands it to her, ignoring the annoyed expression on her face. 

“Still as short as always,” Asra teases. 

“Still as rude as always,” Willa frowns, but she’s too excited to stay mad.

“Let’s get you moved in. Did you bring that scarf you said you’d give me?” Asra heads for the door and Willa follows, laughing at his enthusiasm. 

“Yes, and I brought extra yarn so I can make you another if you’d like—” Willa’s words are cut off as the door opens before Asra can get to it. A large figure stands in the doorway, and Willa and Asra step to the side to let him in. He has to duck a little to enter the room, and Willa looks up at him, noticing shoulder length dark hair and a park ranger’s uniform. 

Nadia stands to greet him, “Ah, Muriel, excellent timing. I was just going to call you. We’ve had a few bear sightings around camp and I wanted to go over our safety plans, perhaps we can ensure all of the trash receptacles are in working order.” 

The man nods in agreement, but his attention moves away from Nadia and over to Willa. When he notices that she’s looking back at him he swiftly looks away, clearing his throat as he takes a step closer to Nadia’s desk and away from Willa. In the near split second when they looked at each other, Willa noticed how bright his eyes were, green like the trees outside. Her eyes stay on him, noting the way his posture slumps a little as if he’s used to being too tall for a space.

“Oh, pardon me for not making introductions sooner. Muriel, this is WIlla, she’s our new counselor and the arts and craft director,” Nadia gestures at Willa, “And Willa, this is Muriel. He’s the park ranger assigned to our area. The ranger station is about a mile from here. if anything goes wrong he’s the first to call.” Nadia gives Muriel a warm smile and he flushes faintly, eyes resolutely staring down at the wooden floors.

“Muriel’s great, he’s the best at roasting marshmallows,” Asra says, finally pulling Willa’s attention away from the man. Asra raises an eyebrow at her in question and Willa looks away, brushing past him to move towards the door. 

She turns to glance over her shoulder at Muriel, who still seems to be finding the floorboards exceedingly interesting. “It was nice to meet you, Muriel,” Willa says, giving him a cheery smile. Muriel looks up in surprise and stares at her for a minute before nodding in response. Willa turns to leave, Asra right behind her.

“‘It was nice to meet you, Muriel’” Asra imitates in a sing-song voice that sounds surprisingly accurate to Willa’s. She scoffs and fights the urge to shove his arm as if they were twelve, she sticks her tongue out at him instead— much more mature.

“Clearly he’s attractive, you can’t blame me for staring,” Willa says, rolling her eyes at Asra’s over-eager expression. 

“True, I can’t blame you, and like I said— Muriel’s a great guy. He’s a bit shy and doesn’t like to socialize much as you may have noticed, but he’s saved us from quite a few scrapes over the years,” Asra recounts. “He repaired the roof of the main hall after a thunderstorm knocked over a tree last year, and he even put out a fire once when a campfire got out of hand.” “Well, he sounds like quite the man.” Willa hides her smile as she turns to open the trunk of her car. She hauls out a suitcase painted a bright blue color and dotted with daisies, she’d done the art herself one day when she’d run out of canvases and needed something new to paint on. Asra grabs her other bag and shuts the trunk, giving her another smirk. 

“Let's get going, I’ll give you a full tour along the way.” Asra hoists her duffle bag over his shoulder as he walks. Willa follows behind, taking in all the sights as he leads the way through Camp Vesuvia.

Asra delivers on his promise of a tour, pointing out everything they pass along the way. “The building we just left is the office, but we all call it ‘the palace’ because Nadia’s the queen around here. Don’t worry though, she’s a benevolent ruler,” he laughs. Nadia seems kind, but she clearly expects the best from everyone and Willa would hate to disappoint her.

They pass the arts and crafts cabin, the main hall where meals are eaten, and each of the cabins for campers. Asra stops in front of a small building next to the main hall, it looks homey and a small puff of smoke comes out of its chimney. A wooden sign by the door is marked with a large pot and a spoon and judging by the delicious smell of bread emanating from the building, this is the kitchen.

“Here’s the kitchen, Portia works here along with Hestion and Selasi. You’ll meet them at dinner. I’m convinced they’re the best cooks in the world, and Selasi’s pumpkin bread is legendary.” For a minute it seems like Asra might go in to look for the aforementioned pumpkin bread, but he turns away from the door and continues on the dirt path forward.

He points to another small cabin to their right, “And here’s the first aid center. Julian is our resident doctor, he’s Portia’s older brother,” 

“Ah, I seem to remember someone named Julian from quite a few of your stories,” Willa says, jokingly waggling her eyebrows. Asra grimaces and looks straight ahead, not meeting her eyes.

“Yes well, that was in the past. Those stories are old,” Asra waves a hand as if to show how unimportant those stories were. “Let’s move on, over here is where we store the canoes! Lucio is our recreation director, he’s kind of an asshole but the kids think he’s cool.” 

The tour continues on until they reach a larger looking cabin tucked back into the trees. It has a wrap-around porch dotted with comfortable looking chairs and a bright green door. It looks welcoming, and there's a great view of the lake from the front porch. Willa can picture herself out there enjoying a cup of coffee or knitting. 

“And here we have our final destination for the day, the counselor's cabin where everyone on staff here lives.” Asra shows her through the comfortable three story cabin, it’s more modern than Willa had expected. She thinks back to the well decorated front office, the palace, and decides that Nadia must be responsible for this cabin’s design as well.

Finally, Asra leads her to a closed door on the second floor and she unlocks it, entering a small but cozy looking bedroom. The walls are painted sky blue and a vase on the dresser has fresh flowers in it, she immediately feels at home. Willa sets her suitcase down by the dresser and flops down on the bed facedown.

“This is going to be so fun!” she squeals, her words slightly muffled by a pillow.

Asra flops down next to her, “You’re going to love it! The camp comes alive when the campers get here, and I bet you’ll be great at teaching art.”

“I hope so, but it’s been a while since I made a friendship bracelet,” Willa laughs, pointing to Asra’s wrist which is bedecked with half a dozen colorful string bracelets. 

“Campers made these for me,” he explains proudly, lifting his arm up so Willa can see the bracelets better. “A lot of the same kids come back every year and most of the staffers do too. I think you’ll fit right in, this is going to be the best summer!”

Willa looks out the window next to her bed and catches a glimpse of Nadia and the park ranger, Muriel, out inspecting the grounds. Muriel looks up at the window as if he can sense her gaze and she smiles and waves at him. He doesn’t respond, quickly walking away towards the trees, but Willa thinks she might’ve seen a hint of a smile tug at his lips as he looked at her. 

“I’ve got a good feeling about this summer, too,” Willa says, turning back to Asra with a giddy grin. “I can’t wait!”

✧

#here's chapter one! #willa wednesday #willa clary #muriel the arcana #milla #the complete cast of characters is as follows: #willa- camp counselor and director of arts and crafts #muriel- park ranger #nadia- camp director #asra- camp counselor #julian- doctor/ first aid #portia- cook #lucio- recreation director #me- overexcited writer

[augment-techs]

“Your smile is infectious” + Amelia Jones@Javi Garcia because I’m incorrigible at times 🥲

A radiation hazard sign should have probably been tacked or hung around his neck in the hours after losing Zayto and Aiyon to blood and smoke in the wake of some psychopath tearing his way through dimensions, for all the comfort Javi's smile gave.

Amelia could only hope and pray, covered in detritus and dust and blood, that the Pterodactyl Zord she'd seen descend where she knew Ollie and Izzy were trying to protect civilians had been a good thing. Though praying had never really been her scene or something she worked with in intimate understanding, it was really all she had to offer Javi; his legs broken and his mind half gone after a fracture and assault in the melee that separated them from their team.  This echoing prison cell with dozens of others at their sides with equally hurt or dying Rangers from Somewhere Else made her hard pressed to hope as well, but she could be content in keeping Javi's head in her lap and her fingers winding through his hair and her breathing regulated so she didn't go into non-stop panic mode. Neither of them needed her to act like a bumblebee that had smashed into a car windshield and left to still do the work of the living. After the first five hours, she had receded into being so panicked that she simply looked mildly put-upon. In the following five, she seemed mostly huffy. Now she was quietly mumbling the questions she used to utter to her parents and then to her Pop-Pop when they were no longer there; to give herself something to focus on and to give Javi something to listen to as he was still smiling, but the situation (pain) had seemed to catch up with him in tears running down his face and his own hand grabbing her free one with a fierce grip that would have probably hurt if she hadn't been giving as good as he did himself. "Is there such a thing as perfect scrambled eggs? Why do we call the color 'blue' when it sounds so sad? Were 'd' and 'b' always meant to mirror each other? If you're deaf, does the "when a tree falls in a forest riddle" have a different meaning? When a group of ducklings is raised by chickens, shouldn't they be called chicklings--" The snort out of Javi at that last one was so completely unexpected that Amelia almost flinched backwards. She would have dropped his head on the cement floor, though, and after a particular article she had to write for Buzzblast about Second Impact Syndrome had been imprinted on her brain for life, she was fully aware half a blink later what Javi's head meeting the floor would mean.  So she tightened her grip on his head and pursed her lips down at the return of his smile. Still full of pain, but she felt herself reflecting it a little as he explained himself, half gagging at little giggles that tried to release from his throat, "...Chicklings...that's good. I like that. You should print that when we get out of here." The full infection of Javi's smile found its way to Amelia's face in full at that promise masquerading as ribbing. When, not if.

#ask fill #prompt fill #boom! comics power rangers #power rangers dino fury #javi garcia x amelia jones #shattered grid #ggpr #mmpr

[fulcrumqueenrebelfriend]

Adelaide Blake: Chapter 2

Chapter 1 >>

They all produced their badges and showed them to each other. Upon seeing there were no threats they all stowed their guns and badges.

Adelaide let out a sigh, "Look I'm sorry about your father, but you can't be here. This is an active crime scene."

"Doesn't seem that active." McGarrett shrugged.

"We just got the case."

"We can't share any information with you," Danny added impatiently, elbowing Adelaide.

"Hesse wasn't here alone when my father was murdered. Someone was sitting at the desk in the study, there was a space clear for a 13-inch laptop and my father hated computers." McGarrett explained.

"I'm gonna ask you again, you've got to leave," Danny told him.

Steve McGarrett picked up an old, red, toolbox and started towards the door. "You got it."

"And you can leave the box, that is evidence. You know that." Adelaide rolled her eyes at him.

"I came with this," he lied.

"No, you didn't. I can see the dust void it left right there on the counter." She pointed to the empty stop on the tool table. Then turning to face him she asked, "what's in the box?"

Ignoring her, he instead asked, "how long have you guys been with the Honolulu PD?"

Adelaide rolled her eyes again, "Since I was out of the academy, I grew up here."

"None of your business. What are you Barbra Walters?" Danny asked defensively.

"No, it is my business if you're investigating my father's death," he retaliated.

"We are, and we'd like to get back to that, so the sooner you leave, we can." Adelaide Snapped.

"Anything you say," Steve replied, turning around with the box still in his hands.

"Leave the box or get arrested, alright?" Her eyes set in firm determination.

"You gonna call for backup?" McGarrett questioned.

"An ambulance." She responded pulling up her sleeve to show her Army Rangers tattoo.

His eyes narrowed and he resignedly set down the box on the car that was covered with a sheet.

"Thank you," Danny responded with an exasperated tone.

McGarret looked over at him, "I wouldn't thank me yet." Then he pulled his phone from his pocket and dialled a number, holding it to his ear.

"What are you doing?" Danny asked suspicsily.

"Uh, yeah?" Governor Jameson, please. Tell her it's Steve McGarrett."

"Oh please," Danny looked at Adelaide.

He put the phone on speaker phone, "Governor Jameson here. What can I do for you?"

Taking it of speaker he pressed the phone to his ear, "Governor I'll take the job. Well, let's just say I found something that changed my mind. No, no, no immediately. I'll transfer to the reserves, and i'll run your task force."

Adelaide gave Danny a bewildered look, that clearly said who the hell is this guy.

"What right now? Okay." Turning around, McGarrett raised his right hand in the air. "I Steven J. McGarrett, do solemnly declare upon my honour and conscience, that I will act at all times to the best of my ability and knowledge in a manner benefiting an officer of the law... Thank you, governor."

Picking up the red toolbox he smirked before walking out, "Now it's my crime scene."

Not knowing what to do, Danny dropped Addie off at her house and went home.

Chapter 3 >>

#Danny #Danno #Williams #Danny Williams #Steve #McGarrett #steve mcgarrett #hawaii five 0 #five-o #Hawaii #Blake #Adelaide #Adelaide Blake #oc #original character #meeting #funny #crime #comedy #detective

[fanfics4all]

Angels, Demons

Request: Yes / No  can you do a spencer reid imagine based on season 9 episode 23 and 24 please?? Anon

Requests are open, but please read this! <3 Have a nice day/night

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word count: 6009

Warnings: Spencer getting shot, reader getting shot, criminal minds stuff, ya know the drill. 

Y/N: Your Name 

Y/N/N: Your NickName

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

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Masterlist 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

“So, we get Henry to bed, and, you know, we’re about to finally have some alone time with Mommy and Daddy, and… you guys know the rest.” JJ said while rolling her eyes. Spencer walked up to us along with Alex and I smiled at him. Spencer and I have been dating for a few years now and he was the love of my life. 

“Ah, trying to dust off the old cobwebs.” Morgan said with a smirk. 

“Inappropriate!” Garcia whisper-yelled and smacked him in the arm. 

“What?” He asked with a laugh. 

“Seriously, though, how long has it been?” She asked. 

“Too long.” JJ said with the most serious face I’ve seen. 

“Do we know what the case is?” Alex asked, changing the subject. 

“Not yet.” I answered. 

“Hotch just said to drop everything and get back here.” Rossi said. 

“You need some private adult time.” Garcia said. 

“Spencer and I can watch Henry for you guys if you want.” I offered, Spencer nodded in agreement. 

“You two should go to Mexico. Or the Maldives, maybe.” Garcia said. 

“Cruz?” JJ asked looking behind us. 

“Yes! Exactly. A cruise would be perfect.” Garcia said. 

“No, no, no. Matt Cruz.” She said motioning behind us. We all looked behind and saw Cruz and Hotch walking towards the round table room. 

“Let’s get started.” Hotch said. We all got up and followed. We got int the room before them and sat down quickly. 

“How are those ribs?” Cruz asked JJ. 

“Still hurts when I laugh. You?” She asked. 

“The scars impress the ladies.” He said. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Ms. Garcia, but I took the liberty of having the much less talented version of you in my office load the case details.” He said taking the remote from Garcia. 

“Oh. Yeah. Sure, no problem.” She said and sat down. 

“A good friend of mine, Sheriff Peter Coleman, down in Briscoe County, Texas, reached out to me about a possible case. He’s a former Texas ranger, he’s a good guy.” Cruz said. 

“He read about our work on the Silencer case two years ago. He asked for a consult.” Hotch said. 

“What do we have?” Alex asked. 

“Abigail Jones. Prostitute. She was found in a dumpster last night.” He said. 

“What’s that on her wrists?” I asked. 

“It’s, uh… it’s…” Cruz said while having trouble with the remote. 

“Uh, would you mind?” He asked Garcia. 

“Thank you, Jesus, Buddha, and Allah.” Garcia said quickly, taking the remote from him and standing up. 

“I like to cover my bases. You have to squeeze it.” She said and the pictures zoomed in. 

“Rope burns.” Rossi said. 

“Which goes hand in hand with the lacerations on her back.” Cruz said. 

“There’s also a gunshot wound to the back of her head, execution style.” JJ said. 

“It’s a conflict in M.O. The cutting and restraints points to sexual sadism, but the gunshot wound ends the torture too quickly for a sadist.” Spencer said. 

“Is she the only victim?” I asked. 

“There;s Hannah Kelly, another prostitute, killed six months ago, dumped one jurisdiction over.” Cruz said. 

“Forensic countermeasure. Smart enough to separate the victims so we won’t tie them together.” Alex said. 

“And practical, too. The body was left in hooker row, where they pick up their johns, which brings us to our first victim, Lucas Wagner. Killed eleven months ago. Multiple arrests for soliciting a prostitute. He was found outside of a crack house where some of them lived.” Cruz said. 

“He takes a paying customer and drops them where the girls live. That sends a message that nobody’s safe.” Morgan said. 

“Tell Sheriff Coleman we’re on our way.” Hotch told Cruz and we started collecting our things. We all got our go-bags and hopped onto the jet. We all were looking through the case files. 

“Ballistics matched one gun to all three shootings. So, the same unsub killed one John and two prostitutes.” JJ said. 

“At least he keeps it in the family.” Rossi said. 

“Maybe the John was a friend of the unsub, someone he picked up prostitutes with.” Alex said. 

“Well, once he kills his friend, it makes it easier to kill the prostitutes.” Morgan said. 

“That would explain why there’s no sexual assault on the victims. It’s not about rape for this unsub, it’s about toture.” Spencer said. 

“I mean, that fits, kind of, but it just feels like we’re missing something.” I said with a sigh. 

“What we’re missing is whether this guy’s a sadist or not. A gunshot to the back of the head throws everything off.” Rossi said. 

“We’re presuming he’s using the gun to end things, but it could be part of the psychological toture.” Hotch said. 

“I’m gonna cut you, and if you flinch, bang.” Spencer said. 

“Okay, so let’s go with that for a second. There were five cuts on Lucas Wagner, nine on Hannah, twelve on Abigail. He’s escalating his torture. Sadists definitely do that.” I said. 

“And they get deeper with each victim.” Alex added. 

“That’s right. The first cuts were experimental in nature, and the latter ones were about maximum infliction of pain.” Spencer said. 

“What if this is vigilantism? He’s punishing theses woman and their Johns to clean up the streets.” Rossi suggested. 

“But then why take so long to do it? Three victims in eleven months? That’s a substantial cooling-off period.” I said. 

“Y/N, Morgan, and Reid talk to anyone working the streets last night and see if they saw something useful. Dave and Blake, go to the coroner’s office, see what you can learn there, and JJ and I will go to the station with the Sheriff and start interviewing friends and family.” Hotch ordered. When we landed we settled in and immediately got out in the field. Morgan, Spencer, and I went to the station with the rest of the team first and we had an officer come with us. 

“Not too many spots for working girls to go to, so this’ll be your best shot.” He said as we got out of the car. 

“And you turn a blind eye to what goes on in here?” Spencer asked. 

“Agent, we only got one bar around here. Monday night’s karaoke, Tuesday’s line dancing, and the girls are discreet. Can hardly tell the professionals from the locals who just want to get their drink on. Not to mention, we shut this place down, then what?” He answered. 

“The devil you know kind of thing.” Morgan said. 

“Exactly.” The officer said. We walked into the bar and just about all eyes were on us. 

“Deputy.” The woman at the bar greeted. 

“Dinah, these three are agents from the FBI. You mind answering some questions?” He asked her. 

“Don’t know much, but sure.” She answered. 

“We’re trying to find out more about a woman named Abigail Jones. Did you know her?” Spencer asked placing her photo on the bar. 

“Why ya’ll askin’ about Abby?” A man at the bar asked. 

“When was the last time you saw her?” Spencer asked. 

“Last week. Same bat time, same bat station. She’s alright, ain’t she?” He asked. 

“No, actually, she was killed a couple of nights ago…” I answered. 

“Killed? God almighty.” He said.

“How well did you know her?” I asked. 

“Used to flirt. You know. She always said I couldn’t handle her. She was right. So I’d buy her drinks. She liked when I buy her drinks.” He answered. 

“Was she that kind of girl? Party girl, maybe?” Morgan asked. 

“It was hard to tell when she was loaded or not. I mean, she was always off. Like she had her own song goin’ on in her head.” Dinah answered. 

“Mack the knife.” The blonde girl on the other side of the bar said and we all looked at her. 

“Let me ask you, did Abigail come in often? Was she a regular customer?” Spencer asked as I walked over to the girl. 

“What was that?” I asked. 

“Mack the knife.” She said with a sigh. 

“Was that the song in her head?” I asked confused. 

“No. it was the name of her last… date. You know what I mean?” She answered. 

“I do. Have you ever met Mack the knife?” I asked. 

“No. She told me about him, said he was a good tipper.” She said. 

“Do you know where we might find him?” I asked. She started shaking and I looked over Dinah who was staring at us. 

“Would you prefer if we chat privately?” I asked quietly. 

“I can’t.” She said. 

“Okay.” I said and sat down next to her. 

“Why don’t we just talk then, you don’t have to look at me. Don’t move your head, just keep looking down.” I said quietly and took my card out. 

“I’m just trying to flirt with a pretty girl. And if you don’t mind, could you lean over and take this card from me?” I asked. She leaned over and took it from me. 

“See? I’m not so bad.” I said with a small laugh. 

“Come on, we’re just talking, having some fun, right?” I asked with a smile. 

“Why don’t you show me that pretty smile of yours. And smack me on my shoulder, like maybe I’m trying to get fresh or something, huh?” I said trying to instruct her what to do. 

“No? Yeah? Yeah?” I said with a raise of my brow as she shoved me a little bit. 

“Dirty girl, you wish.” She said with a flirty laugh. 

“Alright, well, you can’t blame a girl for trying. Especially when a pretty girl like you is sitting here all alone.” I said and she gave a little giggle. 

“It was nice to meet you.” I said with a smile and got up to return to the boys. 

“One last question. Do either of these two people look familiar to you?” Morgan asked as Spencer placed the pictures. 

“The boy looks familiar. Girl I’ve never seen.” Dinah said, shaking her head. 

“Well, thank you for your time. Would you mind if we came back a little later?” Spencer asked, collecting the photos. 

“Oh, anytime. Got nothin’ to hide.” She answered and we went to leave. 

“Sorry I couldn’t help you none.” She added as we left. We called Hotch and JJ, telling them about what we found out. 

The next day we got a call about another victim. All of us got our coffee and started the day. Spencer, Rossi ,and I went to where the body was. We pulled up and they were about to cut the body down. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing!?” Spencer shouted, stopping them. 

“Do not disturb the crime scene.” The Sheriff that came with us said. 

“We took a bunch of pictures just like you ordered.” The other cop said. 

“I ordered you not to touch a damn thing.” He said. 

“We need to look at the crime scene undisturbed. Do you mind not standing there?” I said. 

“He’s escalated his cuts. They’re not only bigger-”

“Cutting was done postmortem. It was the gunshot that killed her.” Spencer said, cutting Rossi off. 

“How can you tell?” An officer asked. 

“Uh, based on the lack of blood flow and scar tissue. If she were alive when this was done, there would be a lot more blood on her back.” Spencer answered. 

“Which means this wasn’t S&M. This was symbolic.” I said. 

“Symbolic of what?” The Sheriff asked. 

“We’re not sure.” Rossi said. 

“Can you guys smell that?” Spencer asked.  

“Lavender.” Rossi said. 

“That doesn’t grow in these parts.” The officer said. 

“It’s mainly around her legs.” Spencer said. 

“Why would he do that?” He asked. 

“Reid, can you look into it? We can’t trust the coroner to follow through.” Rossi said. 

“Yeah.” Spencer said getting up. 

“I can help.” I said following behind him. 

Spencer and I checked out the information, then joined the team to give the profile. Once we were set up we gathered everyone up and was ready to tell them what we’ve learned. 

“We believe the unsub we’re looking for is a white male in his early 30’s. While his M.O. is that of a sadist, we think there’s an underlying pathology of what we call a wound collector.” Hotch said. 

“What’s that?” One of the officers asked. 

“A wound collector is someone who uses a lifetime of sleights, grievance, and wrongs as justification for violence.” Spencer said. 

“Examples can be as large-scale as Hitler scapegoating the jews for the Holocaust, or as common as an abusive husband blaming his wife as an excuse to beat her.” I explained. 

“This unsub is low key, almost submissive in public. He has to be to attract the prostitutes.” Rossi said. 

“But his real nature will be revealed in the safety of isolation. This is the type of man who would anonymously express himself online by raging against how these women are filled with disease and filth, how they deserve what’s coming to them, probably to cover for the rejection of a woman or spouse who’s wronged him.” Spencer said. 

“Which means the unsub probably has a working-class or part-time job. It gives him the time to plan and execute the murders.” JJ said. 

“He’s strong and good with his hands and probably drives a work truck or large vehicle.” Rossi said. 

“This allows him to move the bodies and carry the tools for posing his victims.” Alex said. 

“Tabitha Ryerson tells us he’s losing control. He killed her in her home and then transported her body to the woods so he could mutilate her postmortem. The public nature of the display was a message.” Morgan said. 

“To who?” An officer asked. 

“To us. This is a small town and he knows the FBI is here investigating his crimes. He thinks that he’s showing us that he’s smarter than we are.” I answered. 

“He’s also showing us his wounds. There’s part of him that wants us to stop and punish him for his crimes.” Hotch said as his phone rang. 

“Thank you. Excuse me.” He said answering and walking off. The meeting was now dismissed and we all went off to do our own thing. 

Currently Alex and Rossi were interviewing a man they called Mack the knife. However, it turned out it wasn’t our guy. Spencer and I were still looking into the lavender while all this was going on. 

“I think we got it!” He said, turning to me. 

“What is it?” I asked and he showed me a book. 

“Let’s go tell the team.” I smiled and we walked over to the others. Hotch was talking to one of the victim's sisters when he looked over at us. He came over and Spencer was ready to rattle off the information we found. 

“Guys, I think we know what the lavender on Tabitha Ryerson’s legs is about. Have you ever heard of spikenard?” He asked. 

“Uh, no.” One of the officers answered. 

“It’s perfume. It’s mentioned in the gospels.” Hotch answered. 

“Yes! It’s derived from lavender. It’s what Mary Magdalene used to wash jesus’ feet, which tells us that this unsub’s message is obviously religious in nature.” I said. 

“Preacher Mills, maybe. He came forward to volunteer information.” Morgan said. 

“Well, yesterday he said he’d let us know if he had any more information, but apparently he’s changed his mind.” Hotch said. 

“He fits the profile. He’s morally rigorous, submissive in public.” JJ said. 

“So we’ll put an APB out for him.” One of the cops said with a nod. 

Spencer and Morgan went to the church to see if he might be there. I was here with the rest of the team trying to figure out where he could be, if he wasn’t there. 

“Well I don’t get it, if the preacher had something to do with it, then why was he so helpful?” An officer asked. 

“Unsubs insert themselves into investigations all the time. They enjoy the power and the feeling that they’re smarter than us.” Alex answered. 

“And to keep tabs on the case. He wanted to know how close we were to catching him.” Hotch added and I heard my phone ring. 

“Hey Garcia, whatcha got?” I answered and put her on speaker. 

“I got the backhoe going into the not-so-clean preacher. I haven’t found his present whereabouts yet, but I’m looking at his bank account and I can tell you he doesn’t adhere to the “give all your money to the poor” model.” She said. 

“Any idea where the money’s coming from?” Hotch asked. 

“Not yet. But it’s mostly cash, and we’re talking six figures big.” She answered. 

“You know, maybe it’s sex trafficking. This unsub is able to get prostitutes to let their guard down. They’re somebody he knows.” Alex said. 

“I thought you said our killer was a John.” An officer said. 

“Prostitutes would rat out a JOhn or kill him themselves, but they’d never go against their own pimp.” I said. 

“Garcia, take everything we know about Mills and run it up against pandering and procuring charges. This isn’t the first time he’s done this.” Hotch said. 

“You got it.” She said. She hung up and called us back when she had more information. 

“Did you know the charge of being a pimp, when gussied up, is “procuring and pandering”? And Hotch was right. Preacher Mills is familiar with this charge. Because before he was Justin Mills, he was Gordon Borell, and he was arrested for cutting one of the ladies he employed.” She said. 

“Where did he cut her?” Rossi asked. 

“On the back. When questioned, she said- oh, I’m gonna have to look at kitten videos after this- He was marking his property.” She said. 

“You’re kidding.” The Sheriff said. 

“That’s why he specifically asked me about the wounds on Lucas Wagner. He knew we’d find out about his past.” Hotch said. 

“Hey, Garcia? Why didn’t we find this out until now?” I asked. 

“Because he changed his name when he crossed the border. The Northern border to be exact. Mr. Mill, Nee borell, is from Tees, Alberta. I’ll tell you what those Canadians, They seem so sweet and innocent, but when they go back, they go Darth Vader bad.” She said and I shook my head. I decided it wasn’t the right time to tell her that Darth Vader turned to save his son’s life. 

“So he came here to start over, took on the mantle of the collar as the perfect cover for the sex trade.” Rossi said. 

“No one in this town would question a man of God. But now we got the smoking gun we need on this guy.” The Sheriff said. 

“Garcia, was there an attempted murder charge?” Hotch asked. 

“No. In fact, she said he wanted her to go back out and start working when he was done cutting her.” She answered. 

“He’s not our unsub.” Hotch said. 

We hung up with Garcia and went back to the rest of the team, now that Spencer and Morgan were back. 

“This guy fits to a T. How can we rule him out?” The Sheriff asked. 

“Criminally, pimps follow the same behavioral pattern as drug dealers.” I said with a shrug. 

“Prostitutes are his revenue stream.” JJ said. 

“He would only kill them as a last resort.” Spencer said. 

“Which is why the cutting in Canada was a punishment, not a religious punishment, but a punishment for not doing their jobs.” Alex said. 

“Then he comes here to start over, set up a new shop.” Morgan said. 

“And that’s when somebody found out about his past, used it as a forensic countermeasure to throw us off track by framing him.” I said. 

“That’s why the gir;s kept saying, “They’re” after us. There wasn’t a team of unsubs, but one sadist copying the behavior of another.” Hotch said.

“It would also explain the change with Tabitha, the escalation, the perfume on the feet.” Spencer said. 

“But you said the unsub wanted us to catch him and punish him.” The Sheriff said. 

“What he really wanted was for us to catch the preacher.” Rossi said. 

“So whoever this guy is, he’s fooled all of us, and now we got nothin’ when it comes to the profile.” The Sheriff said. 

“No, that’s not true. The unsub chose Mills for a reason, and Mills can still lead us to the unsub. We’ll have Agent Morgan and the deputies start at his house.” Hotch said and off they went.  We were all trying to figure out where the preacher could be going. So far, nothing. 

“Repeat, I’ve got the suspect headed into El Lobito’s diner.” An officer over the radio said, which made my ears perk up. 

“Copy, Deputy. We’re on our way.” The Sheriff said to her. 

“We got him.” He said walking up to us. 

“Alright, Blake, Reid, and Y/L/N go with the Sheriff. Dave and I will coordinate the response here.” Hotch ordered and we nodded. We followed behind the Sheriff and got on our way. 

“The preacher’s not answering.” Spencer said as we were on our way. 

“Keep trying, we need to tell him we know he didn’t do this.” Alex said and Spencer went back to calling. Still no answer. 

“He’s been in there a good five minutes now. I haven’t seen any movement yet.” The officer that was at the scene already said as soon as we got out. 

“What about patrons?” I asked. 

“Uh, it’s closed.” She answered. 

“How many entrances?” Alex asked. 

“Uh, two it looks like.” She answered. 

“The question is, is he alone?” Spencer asked. 

“Guys, I’ve got movement. We should move in now, Sheriff.” Another officer said. 

“Actually, we’re better off establishing the perimeter first. We need to open up and line of communication.” Spencer said. 

“Alright, agreed. We need to get around to the-” The Sheriff started, but was cut off by a gunshot, he was down. 

“Shots fired! Shots fired!” One of the officers shouted and we all got down. They started shooting at the window trying to hit the preacher. I saw the Sheriff still alive not far from us and I went to try and pull him to us. The preacher started shooting wherever he could and I was in his line of fire, but I couldn’t just leave the Sheriff there. 

“Y/N!” Spencer shouted and ran out to try and pull me back. 

“Reid!” I heard Morgan shout and I looked back to see Spencer on the ground. I dropped the Sheriff and quickly went to Spencer’s side. 

“Spencer! Spencer!” I shouted, but he was out of it. Morgan ran up and pulled him back. I went with him while JJ and Alex went to try and help the Sheriff. Morgan rested Spencer against a car and I kneeled down next to him. He had been shot in the neck. 

“Spencer, baby, I’m right here.” I whispered. 

“Y/N! We’re going in, you stay with him!” Morgan called and I nodded. 

“Everything’s gonna be okay baby, the ambulance is on their way.” I whispered. I saw his eyes open for a second and he looked at something, but I was too focused on him to drag my attention away. His eyes shut once again and I was beginning to panic. 

“Hurry! Please!” I shouted. Alex came beside me and looked at him. 

“Ethan! Ethan! You have to keep your eyes open.” She said. She was calling him the wrong name, but now wasn’t the time to correct her. The paramedics finally came and Spencer was being loaded into the ambulance. Alex was on the phone with Cruz as I stared at Spencer, worried and scared. 

“Y/N you should go in the ambulance with him.” JJ said walking up to us, along with Morgan. I just nodded and quickly got in with him, Morgan was joining us since he was a little banged up too. 

“The sound is like a tea kettle. Do you hear it?” Spencer asked with a slight slur. 

“What? Reid.” Morgan asked. 

“Pressure’s dropping.” One of the paramedics said and I swear my heart leaped out of my chest. 

“Pulse is thready. Starting large-bore I.V.” He said. 

“Spencer!” I cried. 

“Reid!” Morgan said worried. 

“Agent, you’ve got to sit back.” The woman working on Morgan said to him. 

“You gotta help him, man.” Morgan said to the guy. 

“Spencer, please, you’re stronger than this.” I said gently holding his hand. 

“Stay with us, we’re right here.” Morgan said to him. 

“Spencer, please, stay with us.” I begged. 

We finally made it to the hospital and they took him in right away. I had done to the bathroom to wash my hands and when I came out JJ was there with Alex. 

“Anything yet?” She asked and I shook my head. I took a seat near them and tried to hold back my tears. 

“Spencer would have read like two books by now, maybe three.” JJ said, trying to lighten the mood. 

“It should have been me…” I whispered. 

“Or me, or any of us.” JJ said. 

“No. He pushed me out of the way…” I said with tears in my eyes. 

“If he doesn’t make it…” I started, but couldn’t bring myself to finish my sentence. The tears finally falling. 

“He’ll make it.” JJ said. 

“He has to.” Alex said. Garcia walked in and saw us. 

“Hey.” She said walking over and coming to give me a hug. 

“You made it.” JJ said. 

“Yeah, turns out we’re not the only ones connected, he knows somebody with a plane.” She said, trying to keep the mood light. 

“How is he?” She asked. 

“Still in surgery.” Alex answered with a sigh. 

“You all can see Agent Morgan now.” A nurse said to us. 

“If you guys don’t mind, I’d really like to stay here…” I said looking down at my hands. 

“The second you hear anything, call us.” JJ said and I nodded. 

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” Garcia said and I nodded with a sad smile. 

I’m not sure how long I was there, but it felt like forever. All the negative thoughts were running through my head and I couldn’t stop them. 

“Agent.” Someone said and I looked up to see a doctor.

“How is he?” I asked standing up. 

“Incredibly lucky. Two millimeters to the right and the bullet would have torn through the carotid artery. It nicked some smaller vessels, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. You can see him now.” He said and it felt like I could breathe again. I grabbed his things that they gave me and quickly called JJ. 

“Hey, how is he?” She asked. 

“He’s alive. I’m going to see him now.” I said. 

“Great. Okay, thanks Y/N.” She said and hung up. Garcia had met up with me in his room and she was setting up little Doctor Who figures in front of him. 

“It’ll be so great if he wakes up and this is the first thing he sees.” She said. 

“Yeah… The Doctor always makes him smile.” I said with a sad smile.

“It’d be really weird if he wakes up and we’re all just oooh starting at him.” She said, which made me actually laugh a little bit. 

“So, I’m gonna go stand over here.” She said and moved to the window. I gently grabbed his hand and sighed. Garcia had went to go get him some food for when he wakes up. 

“Y/N?” He asked and I looked up to see him awake and I smiled. 

“Spencer! You’re alright.” I said and he looked at the Doctor Who figures in front of him. 

“Garcia.” I said before he could ask. He chuckled and I moved to sit at the edge of his bed. 

“When this comes off, I’m gonna look just like Boris Karloff.” He said and I chuckled a bit. 

“A little green makeup and it’ll be the best Halloween costume ever. And I could always go as the Bride of Frankenstein.” I said and he chuckled. 

“You’d look very cute.” He said and closed his eyes. 

“Hey, everyone is fine, don’t worry.” I said gently squeezing his hand. 

“I’m not.” He said with a small smile. 

“Then what is it?” I asked, but before he could answer Garcia walked in. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” She said with a smile. 

“Look who’s still awake. Can you tell her she can go now, please?” Garcia asked him and motioned her head at me. 

“I’m okay, Y/N. Go help the team.” He said. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to leave him… 

“Are you sure?” I asked and he nodded with a smile. 

“They need you, you have to be my fill in.” He joked. 

“Fine.” I chuckled. 

“I love you.” I said and leaned down to kiss him. 

“I love you too, now go.” He said and I nodded. 

“Call me if anything changes.” I said to Garcia and she nodded. 

I made my way back to the station. I was kind of in the dark about what was going on. 

“Hey, how’s Dr. Reid?” One of the officers asked as I walked in. 

“He’s awake, he’s gonna be fine.” I answered and made my way to the team.

“That’s good to hear.” He said.  

“What’s wrong?” I asked. 

“Let’s take a car ride. I’ll fill you in.” Rossi said in a quiet voice. 

“JJ, send us the info.” He added as he got up, along with Alex. 

“Will do.” She whispered. The three of us left. 

Apparently Dianh had a son that was being used against her. The cops were corrupt. Luckily we had a suspect so hopefully everything would work out. Rossi and Alex were in the front talking, but I couldn’t seem to pay attention. My mind kept drifting back to Spencer. 

“What the hell?” I heard Rossi say, which snapped me back into reality. They were looking in the mirrors and I looked back to see two cop cars following us. They turned their sirens on and trapped us between them. 

“I thought you said it doesn’t get any worse.” Alex said.

“Until it does.” Rossi said. The two officers got out with their hands on their guns and we just watched in shock. 

“Are they really gonna shoot Federal Agents?” I asked. 

“They’re cops who’d rather die than get locked up. They’re desperate.” Rossi said. 

“She’s coming to you.” He said to Alex.

“Don’t they know they’re outnumbered?” I asked. 

“I don’t think they care.” Alex said as we all pulled out our guns. 

“Let’s roll.” Rossi said. We started shooting and just rolled through them. I was hit in the shoulder, but it wasn’t anything too bad. I could deal with it for a few hours if needed. I moved to the front with Rossi while Alex sat in the back with Dianh’s kid and her Mother. 

“You alright kid?” Rossi asked me. 

“I’ll be fine for a few hours, let’s get them to the safe house, then we can deal with me after.” I said and they nodded., We got them to the safehouse and the rest met us there with Dianh. 

“Let’s go, you two drop Y/N off at the hospital then meet us at the junkyard.” Hotch said and Rossi and Alex nodded. 

“I’m fine Hotch.” I said and he shook his head. 

“I’m not letting you go with a bullet wound.” He said and I sighed. Probably a good idea. They dropped me off at the hospital and I was getting treated. As soon as I was done they said I was free to go and I decided to just go see Spencer. 

“Hey, you guys okay?” I asked. 

“What happened to you?” Garcia asked. 

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” I said and smiled at Spencer sleeping. 

Finally the case was over and we could all go home. When we got off the plane Alex offered to help us home. We knew she wasn’t going to take no for an answer. We were walking upstairs to our apartment and it felt so good to be home again. 

“You sure you guys are okay?” She asked. 

“I feel great.” Spencer answered and I nodded in agreement. 

“Ah, that’s overselling it.” He said and I giggled. 

“I, uh, I feel great considering I just got shot in the neck.” He said as we reached the top of the stairs. 

“Sounds about right.” I said. Spencer opened the door and Alex followed us in. 

“Where do you want this?” She asked referring to our bags that she refused to let us carry. 

“Right there is fine.” I said pointing to the couch. 

“Okay, so, you two should get some sleep.” She said. 

“Are you alright?” Spencer asked. 

“Yesterday touched a nerve when I saw you like that.” She said. 

“Who’s Ethan?” I asked. 

“My son.” She answered and my eyes widened slightly. 

“He was nine when he died. Doctors said it was neurological, but they didn’t have a name for it. Still don’t. That drove me crazy, no word to put to this thing that took away my greatest love.” She said and my heart hurt for her. 

“I’m sorry.” Spencer said. 

“He kept growing despite his disease. The last time I laid beside him, he was almost as long as me. He was ready to go, but I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I begged him to open his eyes. And the cruelest part was that I could see who he would be at twenty, but I knew he’d never get there.” She said. 

“I’m so sorry, Alex.” I whispered. 

“Ethan’s a great name.” Spencer said which made her smile. 

“Yeah. It means enduring.” She said. 

“It’s fitting.” I said. 

“You and James never let go of one another.” Spencer said and she smiled. She made her way to the door, but Spencer stopped her. 

“Have you ever had that feeling that your future is somehow behind you?” He asked and I looked at him confused. 

“All the time.” She answered with a nod. 

“I did, too. But it isn’t.” He said and I smiled at him. 

“Ethan would have been a lot like you.” She said and left. 

“Bye Alex.” He said and I knew it was the final goodbye. She wasn’t going to be a part of us anymore. I pulled Spencer in for a hug and he held me tightly. 

“I really thought my future was behind me, until I met you.” He said and kissed my head. 

“I know.” I whispered and smiled up at him. He pulled away and walked over to his bag. He pulled out a small box and turned back to me. He got down on one knee and my eyes widened. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I love you with all my heart and you’ve helped me so much. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?” He asked and a few tears fell down my cheek. 

“Yes! A million times yes! I love you so much Spencer.” I said and leaned down to kiss him. He pulled back with a laugh and placed the perfect ring on my finger. I looked at the ring and it was simple gold with small diamonds around the outside. The band itself was like a vine and it was perfect. 

“This is amazing Spencer.” I whispered and he smiled. 

“I thought you’d love it.” He said and I smiled up at him. 

“We should probably get some sleep now.” I whispered and he nodded. 

“Come on, let’s rest up.” He said, pulling me along with him. We got into bed and he held me close. 

“I love you so much Y/N.” He whispered and kissed my head. 

“I love you so much too, Spencer.” I whispered back and smiled. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches2 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @softgamerking @lady-of-lies @simonsbluee @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @pettyjayy​ @reidssmile​ @currentfangirl-futuremedexaminer @braeleexelizabeth​ @satans-0-spawn​ @emofairygay​

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds season 9 #spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer x fem!reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #fanfic #request

[astrophysicist-guitar-god]

MusicRadar.com

The 12 greatest singing drummers ever

By Joe Bosso, August 05, 2011

Driving the band/selling the song multi-taskers

It's one thing to be a good drummer. But to be a great drummer – one who keeps the beat, plays for the song, and who imbues his craft with a unique sense of personality – that's something else altogether.

Now, let's consider singers. Plenty of people can carry a tune. But how many of them can sell you a song with character and unfiltered emotion? Whether it's belting or crooning, capturing a feeling and putting it across to the listener is a mysterious talent that but a few truly possess.

All right, let’s combine the two and arrive at drummers who sing – not just ‘oohs’ and ‘ahhs,’ mind you, we’re talking lead vocals. Suddenly, all of those drummer jokes aren’t so funny anymore.

With all of this right side/left side brain stuff in mind, MusicRadar is banging a gong and letting the melismas fly as we salute the 12 greatest singing drummers ever, players who dispel the notion that you have to step up to the mic to make magic. Sitting down is perfectly fine.

Unranked list.

Peter Criss (Kiss)

Kelly Keagy (Night Ranger)

Sheila E

Dave Clark (Dave Clark Five)

Karen Carpenter (Carpenters)

Mickey Dolenz (Monkees)

Dave Grohl (Nirvana/Foo Fighters)

Don Henley (Eagles)

Levon Helm (The Band)

Phil Collins (Genesis)

Ringo Starr (Beatles)

Roger Taylor

In Queen, Roger Taylor pulled off the near-impossible. Not only did the provide the kind of massive beats and thunderous fills sturdy enough to go up against Brian May's ginormous guitar sound, but he proved to be a versatile enough singer to complement the operatic, larger-than-life vocals of Freddie Mercury.

Whether swinging (Crazy Little Thing Called Love), funking out (Another One Bites The Dust) or rocking to the nth degree (take your pick), there hasn't been a drumming style or feel that Taylor hasn't been able to nail. (Until 2008, he played either Ludwig or Sleishman drums kits; now he favors DW.)

As a singer, Taylor handled harmonies and co-leads on numerous Queen gems (his falsetto screams in Bohemian Rhapsody are a particular highlight). But he grabbed center stage - or center drum stool - for solo turns on I'm In Love With My Car, Modern Times Rock 'N' Roll, Fun It, Father To Son and many others.

More than just a great drummer, and more than just a great drummer who could sing well - Roger Taylor was Queen's secret weapon.

#Roger Taylor #my little drummer love #top singing drummers #unranked list #Queen #Queen: Academia

[chaniters]

Candy House

Facing against Candymaster, Ash realizes he’s bit more than he can chew, and ends up joining forces with a ranger at the last minute.  Spoilers for Fallen hero. 

Trigger warning: Addictions. 

“So young and yummy.” He snorted. “Shouldn’t you be at school instead of taking candy from strangers?”

“I’m going to get more than candy” You mirror his smile, the power gloves crackling with energy  

“Oooh, I definitely think you’re my type now! Let’s dance, shall we?”

“But of course” you let out, lunging forward.

He responds by raising his arms. 

Which does nothing.

He seems very sure that he’ll be ok, but you’re not going to question stupidity right now, so you do what you came to do. Hit hard, hit fast, the moment you’re close enough. 

The gloves crackle with energy, causing an explosion of… 

Shards? 

You look down, and only his feet remain standing, cracked at the base, the rest of his body seems to have exploded in a thousand pieces. 

That’s when you notice the entire warehouse is covered in white dust… white… sugar?

And he’s still there. You can feel his mind laughing.

You can hear him laughing! 

“My turn!” 

The ground starts shaking, and you can sense incoming attacks from every direction. 

Sharp-colored crystals begin sprouting at an alarming speed, breaking in through the floor itself. Very sharp crystals. 

“Where are you?!” you let out.

“Everywhere” the answer is loud and maniacal, confirming your worse fears.

A large crystal stalagmite surges… trembles.. And breaks apart, revealing the Candymaster, unharmed and fully reformed, grinning with the whitest of smiles, his arms reshaping into pointy crystal blades.

Sucrose manipulation. You’ve seen it, but never to this extent.

And he’s made of the stuff himself?! You’ve seriously miscalculated here. “I’ll break you as many times as I need to!” you challenge, running forward, evading his swipes, before crushing him once more to pieces.

“Rude. But I’m going to be your sugar daddy either way by the end of this.” 

More crystals form out of thin air, from the ceiling this time, and soon you’re evading a complete storm of falling shards, aimed your way. 

“Nice sidesteps. I wonder how long can you keep this up”

“As long as I have to…” you curse as a shard explodes against your leg, giving you a hard bruise. You manage to keep your balance, but the cheap armor on your discount suit isn’t going to help much. 

He reforms before your eyes once more, walking slowly in your direction. Toying with you. “I’m not afraid of you, sidesteps. As I said, I was expecting you”

“How did you know…?”

“Oh, you’ve been just too cute standing there pretending to be clueless. Red Spectre, Clobberer Queen, Lord Ember, you visited them all in one night? It’s almost like you know all of my friends.”

“Losers you mean”

He snorts at that “You’re funny. Now tell me, while we’re talking about losers… did Owl send you? Is she really that desperate”

“Fuck Owl” You distract, not willing to follow his game. “I came to bring you in myself”

“Loyal huh? Heroes can be annoying. But you’re going to give me a straight answer!” 

He pushes forward, sending a wave of shards at your face. You block with the gloves, as best you can, but when it’s over you can see they are cracking with broken circuits, several shards stuck to them.   

“Aww did I break your toy?” he circles around you. 

“I don’t need it to break your face!” you challenge him, discarding the broken power gloves.

“Well let’s see about that” he charges, arms made into razors again. 

You let him down with a roundhouse kick, shattering his face as promised, but that doesn’t stop the rest of the body from swinging at you. You dodge left, then right, stepping back…. only to find another Candymaster.

Fuck. 

“As long as I have sugar, I can be anywhere, sidesteps” he laughs. “You’ll never get rid of me with silly dance moves”

You keep fighting, cracking one of the arms of the newcomer while evading the last one… but a third and a fourth are coming your way. 

It doesn’t take long for you to take the wrong step, and they take hold of your arms, holding you down. 

You curse and kick but it’s useless, and they drag you towards the far end of the warehouse. 

They hold you against a wall, crystal begins growing over your legs and arms, immobilizing them.

You’re stuck. 

“Now you’re you’re going to tell me everything you know about Owl”

“I’m not telling you shit!”

“Believe me you will talk,” one of them says bringing up a large box and placing it at your feet.

“Is that supposed to scare me, clown?” you say, staring down at it. 

“Nah. You’re going to love it… This makes even people like you into obedient good puppies, let  me show you” two of them open the lid, taking out a small bottle… placing a couple of pills in his hand…

You freeze, staring at them.

It can’t be…

“Open wide!” 

You struggle as hard as you can, but they pinch your nose, they punch you… until they can force you to open your mouth… and swallow them.

White supplement. 

“Alright now. I will start asking questions and you will answer each one” 

His voice keeps talking falling into the background, and you can hear yourself answering, but the words aren’t yours. It’s someone else.

The rest is a blank.

--------------------------------------------- “FIGHT FOR YOUR LIFE!!” Ashley’s words are still ringing in your ears. Only that she’s not here.

She died. Why do you still hear her? Why do you still...(...) 

“Wow, good job, kid that was surreal!” 

You’re lying down, on a very wet floor, water raining down from the ceiling. A hand on your shoulder, trying to help you sit up.

“Are you ok?”

You focus on the face of the person speaking to you… wearing a mask!

You almost jump, stumbling back, falling down on your ass onto the water again. 

“I guess that’s a no.”

They give a few slow steps your way, palms extended. They mean no harm (or is that what they want you to think?)

“Hey hey. It’s ok. We won” 

“Who are you?” you ask before he gets any closer.

“Aww, you forgot me already? I’m Anathema. Tried to talk to you the other day, and you ran away?”

It takes a few seconds for it to click that you actually do remember this one. 

“The ranger”

“There you go. That’s me!” 

They are completely colorless, even as more details begin to come back. 

You pain gate. It’s active, at its highest setting. You stare at your hands… completely numb and bloodied. You can feel sore fingers and knuckles, even through the gate, and your legs are like two wooden logs. You’ve taken a hell of a beating.

“What… happened?” 

“You’re having a moment huh? We beat the crap out of Candymaster, that’s what happened.”

“Ah” you stand up, finally accepting his hand.

“There you go. Must say, turning on the fire sprinklers was a genius move, washed out all that sugar on the floor and ruined his day” “Right. What’s that?” you ask looking at a gooey puddle of blackish ooze.

“Well, Sugar and Acid don’t mix. The rest of him ran away after that… you seriously don’t remember?”

“Maybe I’m having a moment like you said” you reply following him.

“I think you might have been drugged,” they say looking down at the box, holding one of the bottles full of white supplement pills resting in packing peanuts before tossing it back in “That might explain it. That shit is strong...”

You say nothing, looking down. 

A box full of white supplement...

Your hands are hurt but steady now.

“You were amazing. Candymaster had you down, interrogating you, so I got the jump on him, released you, and you looked a bit lost at first. But when I told you to fight and you turned into a total beast, you were breaking off those sugar creeps with your bare hands. It’s almost as if… hey don’t touch that! It’s evidence!” they interrupt themselves.

“Touch what?” you ask, pathetically. 

“The box! Leave it back on the floor!” 

You order your hands to put it down as they say, but that’s not what seems to be happening at all. 

“I’m just…” You step back “... I need…”

“Leave it right there! Don’t make me… shit!!!”

You’re sprinting, and they are chasing you, and the box is really heavy but you don’t care. 

You need it. You need the white supplement so you won’t feel like shit all the time. You can’t go back, but with this, you won’t need to. 

You almost make it in range of a low building, drawing the grappling hook, only to have it fly off your hand, half-melted, covered in acid. Shit.

You turn and notice Anathema jumping at you just in time to sidestep, letting them hits a traffic light instead. You don’t stop running, they can’t catch you if you don’t stop. You’re too focused on evading him to notice the car coming at you tough. 

It wasn’t a very strong bump, and you barely felt it with your pain gate active, but you were running fast enough to be projected a few feet away as the driver hits the brakes, hitting the pavement hard. Another thing you don’t feel.

“Oh, shit are you ok? Get off the street!” Anathema runs, stopping traffic.

The box.

The box is right in front of you… you just need to stand up and...

And an enormous Geni-Tech truck runs it over, squishing all of its contents and sending pieces of wood, pills, and packing peanuts all over. 

“NO!” you lunge forward, trying to get as many pills as you can, but it’s too late. Anathema pulls you, holding you back. “NO NO NO, LET ME GO, YOU IDIOT! I NEED THOSE! I NEED THEM” 

You hit them hard with your hurt hands, but it’s no use, they don’t even budge. “I think you had enough of those,” they say extending a hand towards the white supplement stain…

“NO! DON’T DO THAT! YOU DON’T GET IT, I REALLY NEED THOSE, PLEASE DON’T…” 

But they don’t listen, sending a small blob of acid at the stain, turning it all into a muddy black substance, the pills dissolving forever. 

“Nonononononono…” you can’t stop yourself, hitting him as hard as you can, completely out of it while they pull you off the street. 

“Believe me, you’ll be better off in the long run.”

Your gaze is fixed on the muddy substance, cars running over it, washing it down the drain. 

You’re doomed. 

You’ll never be normal again __________  If you want to read more: My Fanfiction: https://chaniters.tumblr.com/post/181692759294/my-fanfiction-for-fallen-hero    DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fan fiction using characters and the setting of the Fallen Hero: Rebirth and upcoming Fallen Hero: Retribution games written by Malin Riden. I do not claim ownership of any characters from the Fallen Hero wold. These stories are a work of my imagination, and I do not ascribe them to the official story canon. These works are intended for entertainment outside the official storyline owned by the author. I am not profiting financially from the creation of these stories, and thank the author for her wonderful game/s, without which these works would not exist.

#fallen hero: rebirth #fallen hero fanfic #Anathema #Sidestep #Will Ash ever stop being like this to everyone? #fallen hero

[soyforramen]

3 times archie wanted to call veronica while he was away but didn’t, and one time he did. 39 for varchie!

I’m so sorry, apparently I posted this on AO3 and not on Tumblr!!!

One:

 On the outskirts of Riverdale, Archie watched as Jughead spoke into the payphone, letting Betty and F.P. know where they were, what he was doing. Even from this distance his posture was relaxed, calm. It was a direct contrast to how Archie was feeling, every nerve, every muscle, every joint ready to be gone from here.

Archie was grateful beyond words that Jughead had insisted on going with him when he found out about the bounty. That he’d refused to let Archie go through this alone, even though some part of Archie knew Jughead’s insistence had more to do with living out the lives of so many of those long dead authors he worshiped.

But Jughead wasn’t the person who Archie wanted to be crossing the country with.

A surge of longing shot through him as he did his best not to dial that number he knew by heart. The number he knew could soothe some of this pain. He slipped a hand into his coat pocket where his cell phone lay dead from the last two days on the road. His thumb ran over the glossy surface, keying in the number as it went.

Even if he could talk to her, she’d tell him what he didn’t want to hear. What he didn’t want to believe. She’d tell him they could work this out together. That together they could stand up to anything. Whatever stood against Veronica Lodge would fall when it came in front of her determination.

Everything she would tell him would be enough to make him second guess his footing. Enough to second guess this self-imposed exile.

She’d be angry, too. Angry that he’d left her without a word. And she’d have every right to that anger.

But this time, Archie couldn’t let himself be convinced by her. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt because of him. Too many people already had.

There was blood on his hands, blood that could never wash out. Blood that would only stain her silk satin sheets. Blood that would turn her white pearls a murderous pink.

He’d stain her to her soul, and that was one thing Archie couldn’t do.

Jughead hung up and Archie stood to wipe the dirt from his jeans. He scraped his palms across the denim, a small burning ache lingering across them. The ghost of her hand around his wrist called to him and he tried to rub the feeling away.

Concern splashed across his face, Jughead gave Archie a side-long glance. It was obvious he wanted to talk, probably about whatever Betty wanted to pass along. But Jughead passed on doing so. Instead he fell into step with Archie as they walked the silent road to Greendale, both heavy with something neither could quite put a word to.

Two:

Late at night, cicadas screaming around them and the smell of hay heavy in the air, Archie stared at the stars above them. Next to him, Jughead snored and rolled over. He’d always been able to sleep no matter the circumstances. A survival instinct, he’d once called it. Archie hadn’t understood what he’d meant at the time, and even now it made little sense. Sleep was a luxury now, one Archie couldn’t afford to indulge in. Not with so much running through his head, and even more running after him.

It had been a week since they’d first come to the farm, but time meant nothing to him now. It stretched out into a puddle disturbed by a rock skipped across it, the ripples distorting days and minutes into one and the same.

On the farm, time held no meaning outside of day and night. Things were simple. Wake at dawn, feed the animals. Heavy labor the rest of the day, broken up by a meal. The physical work took his mind off everything he’d been running from. It wasn’t hard to see him living out the rest of his days here.

Jughead, though, was unnerved by this place. Those he’d spoke to in town had unsettled him, the dice seeming to follow him at every turn, a reminder and an omen of Riverdale. But for Archie, this place felt safe.

And as guilty as he felt about it, Laura made him feel safe. With how sweet she’d been to her sister, with how kind she’d been to open her doors to two strange travelers. She’d understood how hard it had been for them when Archie had told her the truth. She had even gone so far as to ask if there was anything else she could do for them.

He hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

No, that wasn’t true. There had been one place. One person.

That safety was long gone, along with it his rose-colored dreams of their future together. Both had been dashed to pieces under the strange circumstances they’d both found themself in.

Jughead’s phone pinged, its screen throwing up an eerie glow. While Jughead slept on, Archie’s fingers crept towards it. It would be so easy to make one phone call. So easy to dial the number seared across his heart.

The phone went dark, the barn’s walls rushed up to fill in the space. It was tight, choking the air out of this place. Archie shoved his feet into his shoes and ran out of the barn to escape it.

Three:

A knife against his throat helped put things into perspective, Archie realized. It was a direct threat to his life, an indirect threat to everyone he’d cared about. A threat that drove him further and further into the Canadian wilderness. As hard as it was to leave Jughead behind, it was a million times hard to leave his father at the border. Even with Vegas at his side, Archie’s future looked grim.

Jughead’s cell, slipped into Archie’s coat pocket at the junkyard, vibrated. Archie glanced around, unsure if he was alone in such darkness, and pulled it out. In the corner a single bar flashed, the first spot of service he’d had in hours.

He unlocked the screen only to find a text from Veronica, a jumble of words asking where they were, whether Archie was safe. Why he wouldn’t talk to her.

His vision blurred as a deep loneliness threatened to strangle him. One more reminder that he wasn’t just leaving his family and friends behind. He was leaving pieces of himself behind as well.

It was all too much all at once. He hit the call button one last time. All he needed was to hear her voice one last time to get through this. The phone rang through to Veronica’s voice, as velvet and lush as her hair, ordered him to leave a message, but he didn’t dare. He’d already put her, and himself, in too much danger by calling.

Archie shoved it to the bottom of his pack. He headed deeper into the dark woods.

It had been pure, dumb luck when he’d found the old abandoned cabin in the woods just before dawn. Wood had rotted away in some areas and weeds had grown up above the windowsill. The door with its parks ranger sign fell off when Archie tugged it open, but the inside was relatively untouched, save for the raccoons that had made a vacation home in the closet and the years of dust that covered every surface.

Archie fell into the old spring mattress, his body aching and his eyes closing of their own accord. He barely noticed Vegas nestled up against him.

When he woke, the air around him was suffocatingly hot. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun and a buzzing noise came from across the room. He propped himself up on his elbows, a part of his dazed mind thinking ‘wasps’, but there was nothing there. He fell asleep again and slept dreamlessly until the next dawn.

It was another two days of working to put the cabin back together that Archie remembered about the phone buried in his backpack. He’d promised to send some signal back to his father when he’d found a place to stay and this shack looked as good as any. He pulled the phone out and found that it still had a charge but no signal. A trek to the nearby creek fixed that, and as he sent out a text to his father the phone buzzed with missed calls.

Fingers shaking, Archie held the phone up to his ear to listen to the solitary voicemail.

“Please come home,” Veronica said, her voice thick and cracked. “I miss you.”

A black heaviness started in his heart until it pooled down into his feet. He listened to her voice again, another time. A third, a fourth, a twelfth. He listened to it again and again, a sickly sweet punishment for everything he’d done. For all the pain he’d put her through.

Archie listened to the voicemail until the phone warned him it was about to die. He wanted to call her again. To tell her exactly where he was. To beg her to come to him. When the phone died, he stared at the phone.

It wasn’t until Vegas began frantically barking that Archie woke up as if from a dream. He picked the axe up and headed over the hill.

Four:

His breath was shaking as he stood outside the convenience store. A car backfired and he jerked back into the payphone.  The gash on his chest stung - still a raw, open reminder of his own brash carelessness - and he gasped in pain.  

On the other end, the line rang.  Archie held his breath, waiting for her to pick up.  He wondered if she still cared, if she’d want to talk to him after two months of no contact.  She’d been so adamant that they work through this, that they work together.  

She’d promised him she’d keep him safe and he hadn’t believed her.  

That pain hurt worse than any physical wound ever could.  Reflexively he ran his hand across his chest to check that the bandages were still intact.  He pressed down on the edges while he waited.

Four rings, five.  And still nothing.  When the phone finally went to voicemail, he squeezed his eyes shut.  His hand pressed down upon the bandages, a warning flare of pain shooting through him.  

“Veronica.”  He breathed her name like a prayer.  Standing silent, he tried to think of something, anything he could say to make it better.  The voicemail clicked off, and he finally spoke.  “I’m coming home.”

#varchie #varchie fanfiction