Nigel in the promo:

First Time For Everything

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Todoroki Shoto x fem!reader

Summary: Shoto gets fucked and its exactly what he had hoped it would be. 

Tags: pegging, slight sub vibes for Shoto, explicit sex 

Shoto stood staring at the door in front of him, hand hovering ready to knock but he couldn’t get it to move any further. It had taken him longer to get here than it should have, his nerves finally getting the better of him and causing him to drag his feet. He had woken up this morning pulse thumping and covered in a cold sweat, the last foggy strands of his dream clinging to his sleep heavy mind. More like a nightmare actually, the faint images of everything that could go wrong tonight haunting him. He had come close to calling it off several times throughout the day but he had talked himself out of it every time he went to pick up the phone. His nerves had carried over into his dinner with Izuku and Uraraka. He hadn’t been that good of company tonight and his two friends had noticed but Shoto had played it off as work stress and lack of time for personal relationships. They had seemed to buy it, telling him he needed to take better care of himself and they would always be there for him if he needed something. It had hurt to lie to his friends but it was a necessity. He should probably be worried how easy lying was for him now but he supposed it would come in handy when trying to bluff a villain. Groaning Shoto took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and holding his head high. He could do this. He had started down villain’s intent on killing him and put himself in life threatening situations on a daily basis, getting his girlfriend to fuck him was nowhere near as dangerous. With one last deep breath he knocked on the door, two quick and sure taps that seemed to echo around the hall.

The door of the next apartment along creaked open and Shoto turned with a frown, watching as a messy tuff of black hair poked out, brown eyes watching him intently. The door in front of him swung open and Shoto’s head shot back round to look at the women before him. She stood in the doorway, one hand holding the door and the other curled around the doorframe. She had on an oversized black T-shirt with a white skull print on and a pair of black shorts that just peaked out from under the hem of the top. She was smiling widely up at him eyes sparkling and Shoto wanted to drown in them. “Hey you” she said fondly and all he could do was mumble back a strained ‘hello’. Laughing gently she stepped to the side, motioning him to come in. He took a few tentative steps inside, hearing her close the door behind him. “Your creepy neighbor was watching me” he said in his usual monotone voice as he undid his jacket, pulling his hat off his head and tugging his scarf from around his neck. She stepped around him, taking his jacket from him as he shrugged it off, along with his other items before disappearing behind him again. “Probably because the last person who knocked on my door screamed so loud the police were almost called” she yelled, her voice slightly muffled and Shoto could only assume she was still in the closet, putting his things away. He hummed his understanding as he toed his sneakers off. He didn’t think that was it, not all of it any way. The guy was a creep and a bit of a stalker and Shoto knew he was probably just keeping track of who was coming and going. “Drink?” she asked as she appeared once more and Shoto nodded. He would probably need it if he was going to get through tonight without hyperventilating. She grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together and tugged him through the apartment. He let his eyes dart around the space, taking in the open planned room. She had called it a studio apartment but Shoto didn’t really understand what the meant. It was one large room, the walls painted a bright white and the floors a dark hardwood. The bedroom area was on the right, her bed set in the middle and pushed against the wall. In the middle of the room was her living area with a two person sofa with a coffee table in front. There were two matching armchairs at either end of the table and a TV in the other side. On the left was a kitchen, the worktops in the same dark wood as the floor. The wall opposite was completely glass and looked out over the neon light city. There wasn’t much decoration in the space, just a few photos scattered around, some of him, some of the two of them together and a few of her with people Shoto had never meet. It was all very subtle and tasteful and surprisingly cozy.  Once in the kitchen she sat Shoto down on one of the high stalls. She grabbed two tumblers from the cupboard, placing the decorated glasses in front of him before spinning on her heals to dig through her freezer, pulling a chilled bottle of vodka from within. She brought two large chunks of ice with her, dropping one into each class before pouring the vodka in. Shoto took the glass she offered him wordlessly, staring at the clear liquid for a moment before bring the glass to his lips and knocking back its contents. He coughed and spluttered as the alcohol hit the back of this throat, slamming the glass back down on the counter and wincing at the taste. She was smirking at him as she sipped at her own drink, watching him out the corner of her eyes and clearly amused by his reaction.  Wordlessly she poured him another shot but this time he sipped at it carefully. He watched her as the silence stretched on between them, making him want to squirm as it amplified his nerves. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind, desperate to fill the silence but unknowing what to say.  Shoto sighed, shoving a hand through his hair and asked the one thing he had been worrying about. “Are you sure this is going to work?” his voice came out not much more than a whisper as he looked down at his drink. He wasn’t sure if he was asking about the act its self or if their relationship would be the same afterwards. he knew he was being paranoid but he was asking a lot of her and though she had seemed into it the niggling feeling that she was only doing it for him kept persisting. Delicate hands wrapped around his and Shoto looked up to find her smiling at him reassuringly. “It’s going to be fine. Trust me” she asked and Shoto nodded, offering her a small smile back. She gently tugging him from his seat, stepping round the counter to be closer to him. “Did you do everything I told you to?” Her voice was serious now as she spoke, her gaze fixed on him as she waited for his answer. Shoto blushed, remembering very clearly the short list she had sent him that morning. It had been a strange morning but he had done what she had asked of him. Not trusting his words Shoto nodded, his eyes darting away from hers to look at their joint hands instead. “Good boy” Shoto’s head jerked up at those words, a small thrum of pleasure shooting down his spine. He didn’t know if it was the words or just the praise in general but whatever it was Shoto had liked it. Her smile widened, eyes flashing in recognition and Shoto knew that this wouldn’t be the last time he would hear those words or some variation of them. “Why don’t you head back and get ready?” Shoto stiffened slightly at the words. He knew they would be coming, the two of them having discussed this but it made the situation that much more real to hear her say them. He swallowed before licking his dry lips, eyes nervously darting around before stopping on her. Pulling in a deep breath Shoto nodded, pulling his hands from hers and started to make his way towards the bathroom. He lent back against the door once it was closed, eyes closed and just breathing. He stayed there for a few moments, trying to steady his nerves and gain some composure. He was fine, there was nothing to be scared about. He knew that she would take care of him, that she wouldn’t do anything he didn’t like or ask for. He was safe with her. With a sigh he pushed away from the door and began to strip, folding his clothes neatly and placing them on top of the closed toilet. He turned the shower on, letting the water heat up before stepping under the spray. He let the warm water cascade down his shoulders and back, head hung forward in an attempt to keep his hair dry. His cock hung limply between his legs and Shoto wondered if he should try and get it up before going back out but in all honesty he didn’t know if he would be able to.  He was excited sure but he was also nervous and a little scared if he was being honest with himself and at the moment the negative outweighed the positive.

Groaning Shoto grabbed the soap and began to wash himself, his movements methodical and quick. He let out a small groan as he groped his own ass, cold fingers prodding at his entrance, his dick twitching in interest. Trying to ignore his growing arousal Shoto finished washing, turning the shower off and stumbling out to grab a towel. He rubbed over his body, rough and quick in his haste to get dry. He looked down at his clothes, wondering whether or not to put them back on. It seemed pointless, like an extra obstacle in getting what he wanted. Deciding not to bother he wrapped the large fluffy towel around his waist and headed back out into the main living space.

He found her sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands and head tipped back. She had turned all the lights off in the apartment apart from the one lamp on the bedside table, the warm yellow glow making everything seem softer. Slowly he walked over to her, coming to a stop in front of her. She looked at him from under hooded eyes, smiling gently. “Hey” she whispered, tipping her head forward and dragging her eyes across his exposed chest, eyes lingering on the obvious bulge between his legs. The smile slipped into a smirk, her pink tongue darting out to drag along her plum bottom lip.

Swallowing nervously Shoto adverted his gaze, eyes landing on the few things she had placed next to her. There were a couple of condoms and a bottle of lube but what caught his attention was the black silicone dildo that led on top. It looked bigger than he had expected, the veins more pronounced than he though they would be. 

“You can touch it if you want” she purred, fingers ghosting along his abs before gripping his waist tightly. With one last look he turned back to the women in front of him, shaking his head no. He was afraid that if he touched it he would manage to talk himself out of it.

With a soft smile she stood, wrapping one arm round his waist whist she griped gently at his chin with the other hand. She leant up at the same time she pulled him down, their lips brushing in a gentle kiss. Shoto sighed into it, his eyes closing as he gripped at her waist. It was over quickly, Y/N pulling away from him just enough that they could look at one another comfortably. “You ready?” she asked, her voice gently.

Shoto stilled, his eyes boring into hers. It was a simple question but it left him feeling anxious. Was he ready? He had had weeks to prepare for this, to psych himself up for what was to come and he had thought that he was ready for it but now faced with it he was unsure. He wanted it, wouldn’t have asked her for it if he didn’t but was he ready to have that experience now?

The hand that had been griping his chin slid up to cup his cheek, her thumb brushing against his cheek bone. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to”. She reassured him and Shoto felt all the tension leave him in a single rush. He trusted her with this, with him and he knew he wouldn’t come to regret this in the morning.

“I’m ready” he whispered, turning his head and placing a gentle kiss on her palm. She smiled at him, leaning up to place one last kiss on his lips before stepping back. She wasted no time tugging the towel free and threw it back towards the living room. Her eyes raked across his body, taking in everything and Shoto had to fight the urge to cover up, feeling exposed. “On the bed” she jerked her head behind her and Shoto moved without question.

She hadn’t said how she wanted him so he climbed into the middle, laying down on his back and head resting on the pillows. His head was elevated enough that he could watch as she climbed up from the end of the bed, crawling up him with an almost predatory grim on her face. She hovered over him, knees on either side of his hips and hands next to his head. “Do you trust me?” Shoto’s eyes widened slightly at her sudden whispered question. After all this time did she really think she had to ask that?

“Yes” he whispered back, his cold hand cupping her cheek once more. With a soft smile she leaned forward, his hand slipping from her cheek so he could drape the arm across her shoulder. She placed soft kisses along his jaw and Shoto turned offering her more space as she kissed and nipped her way up to his ear. He gasped as she sucked the lobe between her teeth, nipping gently at it. “I’m going to wreck you” Shoto stiffened at her words, her gentle laughter sending shivers down his spine. She took advantage of his stunned silence, kissing her way back down his neck. Her teeth scrapped across his skin before sinking into the soft flesh where neck met shoulders. He cried out at the sudden shock of pain, eyes screwed shut, his other hand coming up to tangle in her hair. He felt her smirk against the abused flesh, her cool tongue soothing the sting.

She continued to move down his body, kissing, sucking and licking at every bit of exposed skin. Her mouth and tongue alternated from the sting of ice to the prickle of fire against him, making him gasp, squirming beneath her. Her assault on him was constant, never stopping to let him breathe or regain his bearings. Her hot mouth sealed around one of his nipples, sucking and licking at it hungrily. The other didn’t go ignored for long, her ice covered fingers pinching and twisting until Shoto was gasping, arching his chest off the bed and offering more of himself to her.

The stark contrast in temperatures was jarring, his mind unable to really comprehend to two different sensations all at once. It was maddening but also not enough, all it was doing was stroking the fires of his arousal, making him crave more. Suddenly everything shifted, what had been hot was cold and what was cold now hot. Lips were exchanged for fingers and fingers gave way to sharp teeth. Shoto cried out at the sudden shift, the sensitive skin aching at the sudden and drastic shift in temperature.

Shoto hardly had time to process the change before she was moving on, fingers skimming down his side as her lips dragged down his abs, tongue licking at the groves and teeth nipping. She shifted, hands curling around the inside of his thighs and forcing his legs open. She settled between them, eyes find his and holding his gaze as she swirled her tongue around his belly button before placing gentle kisses down his stomach. Shoto held his breath as he watched her, anticipation thrumming through him the closer she got to his straining dick but she bypassed it, placing more kisses across his thighs. Shoto’s annoyed whine turned into a pained gasp as she bit down on his thigh, sucking the skin into her hungry mouth. She let the skin go with a wet pop, placing a soft kiss over the mark that was undoubtedly there. “Patience is a virtue” she whispered, smirking at him and Shoto groaned in annoyance, his head falling back to the pillow. His leg twitched as she kissed down it, all the way to his ankle than started on the other one, making her way back up. He expected her to skip right past his straining erection, continuing the slow build up so it came as a shock when she sucked him down in one go. Shoto cried out, hips jerking forward at the sudden attention. She hummed around him, hands grabbing at his hips and forcing him back down against the bed. Shoto curled a hand in her hair, not to control her movements but just for something to hold onto. She sucked and licked at him, her head moving up and down his length painfully slow and Shoto was lost. He tried to thrust up again, to get her to speed up her ministrations but she pushed him back again, her hands heating up to prickle uncomfortably at his skin. He hissed at the sudden sting, pulling away from her. She hummed around him, her hands cooling to sooth the pain and his hiss turned into a sigh. She sped up after that, her tongue swirling around his head before sucking him back down till he hit the back of her throat, the muscles constricting around him as she swallowed. She worked him perfectly, driving his desire higher only to bring him back down with a pained sob. He was begging, could hear the desperate please for more tumbling from his lips in between moans and cries of pleasure but she wouldn’t let him, keeping him on a knives edge. So far gone was he that he didn’t really register that her hands had left him, nor the sound of a bottle being opened. She shifted between his legs, the angle changing and he slid between her lips, her tongue dragging along the sensitive vein. He hit the back of her throat and she stopped. Panting Shoto lifted his head to look at her, his eyes struggling to focus on her. Finally his eyes locked onto hers and his breath caught. She was looking up at him, eyes hooded and stretched lips quirking into a smile around his dick. As soon as she realized she had all his attention she swallowed, a slick finger pushing at his entrance. Shoto’s head fell back, crying out at the sudden sensations. She slowly slid her slick finger in, pressing gently forward whilst still sucking at his cock. It stung, probably would have hurt more if he hadn’t been so blissed out already but he supposed that was the point. Distract him with pleasure so he didn’t notice the pain. She stopped once her finger was all the way in, her knuckles pressed against his ass. She pulled off his dick with a wet pop and a quick lick to the leaking slit before lifting herself up slightly to look at him. “You okay?” She asked, her voice rough yet still managing to sound concerned. Shoto was panting, his ass squeezing down on the intrusion. It felt odd, a little uncomfortable and he was fighting his body’s urge to force it out but it wasn’t bad. His erection had flagged a little but not completely, probably helped by the fact she had delicate fingers that were well lubed. Absentmindedly Shoto wondered how many he would have to take before she deemed him ready to take the abandoned toy. Shoto shifted his hips slightly, groaning as he felt her move inside of him. “Yeah” he managed to groan out. She smiled at him, blowing him a kiss before she ducked back down, taking him back into his mouth. She lapped and sucked at him leisurely as she slowly pulled her finger back before pushing it back in just as slowly. They continued like this till her finger was gliding into him effortlessly, his muscles relaxing and accepting the intrusion. The sting of pain had subsided, the hum of pleasure building again. “Another?” She numbed against his hip, teeth dragging across the bone. All Shoto could do was grunt, spreading his legs wider for her, planting his feet flat on the bed and raising his knees up. He felt exposed like this, wanton but he didn’t care, he just wanted more. She smiled against him, placing a gentle kiss before she pulled back. Shoto groaned as her finger slipped free, and odd sense of emptiness filling him. He rolled his hips trying to chase her retreating finger but the only answer he got was her teasing laughter, her warm breath fanning over his neglected dick and caused him to whine. “Shush love, you’ll get what you want soon enough” she soothed, mouthing up his dick and swallowing him back down. He let out a small moan, rolling his hips again to press deeper into her waiting mouth. He hissed as he pushed back, pressing his ass against her waiting fingers. Slowly she pushed forward, slick fingers stretch him one again. They went in slightly easier, his body more accepting this time but it still stung slightly.

She carried on as she had before, fingers working inside of him whilst she distracted him with gentle suction and hard licks except this time he felt fuller, the painful stretch not taking from his pleasure but adding to it. He was breathing heavily, hips rolling down onto her fingers before pushing back up into her waiting mouth. It was everything he wanted from her, better even and they weren’t even to the main event yet.

Her fingers shifted, pushing deeper and curling up wards and Shoto screamed, a bright shot of pleasure darting up his spine and setting his nerves alight. “There you are” she whispered, her lips curling into a smirk against his thigh as she pushed against the spot again causing him to gasp. “Wha…what…what’s” he managed to gasp out but the rest of his words stuck as she rubbed her fingers inside of him, pushing hard against his prostate. “Told you I would make you scream” she purred, her fingers pushing gently against the spot once more before pulling them out.

He whined at the loss, his dick twitching and leaking. “Come on” she commanded, hands grabbing at his hips as she began to turn him. He went with a groan, rolling onto his front and lifting himself up onto his hands and knees. They had spoken about this beforehand and Shoto knew this would be best for his first time but he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to watch her above him as she took him apart.

Cool hands ran up his side, quick fingers dancing across his ribs and tweaking at his still sensitive nipples. He let out a little gasp, head falling forward and his hair falling around him. The hands moved on quickly though, sliding down his back and messaging his ass. He moaned softly, rocking back and pushing his ass back into her hands. Her laughter ran out, loud and clear in the quiet room, nails digging into the muscle slightly as she squeezed.

“Look at you. Already so desperate for me” he groaned at her words, unable to deny her claim because it was true.  He wanted her to own him, to keep her promise and completely wreck him. “Please”. The word tumbled from his lips, begging her for more. He felt her move behind him, her hands gripping his cheeks and pulling them apart, exposing his clenching hole to her. He felt even more exposed than before, his greedy hole and dripping dick on display for her and he loved it. Loved that she was watching him fall apart for her so intently.  “Not yet love”.

Her warm breath against his twitching hole was the only warning he got before she dragged her tongue along his crack. Shoto cried out, hips jerking forward at the sudden sensation but her tight grip on his ass kept him place. Her tongue flicked at his rim, lapping at it and pushing down ever so gently before sucking hard. Beneath her Shoto squirmed, his arms giving out as he collapsed face first into the sheets, panting and moaning. He pushed back against her tongue, the tip slipping inside of him. His walls clenched around the intrusion but she pushes forward, tongue slipping in as far as it could go until her face was flush against his ass.

It felt so dirty, a filthy imitation of what she would be doing shortly as she fucked her tongue in and out of him and Shoto loved it. He rocked back against her, the lewd sucking and slurping noises driving him on. For a second he entertained the thought of reaching back and grabbing a fist full of her hair and using his grip to hold her still whilst he ground himself against her face. The thought had his dick twitching but he couldn’t bring himself to move, his hands tingling with pleasure.

With one last suck she pulled back and Shoto’s body relaxed, all the tension leaving him. “Such a filthy little pervert”. She nipped at his ass and Shoto yelped, hips jerking away from the sudden sting of pain. She laughed at him, one hand leaving his ass to stroke at his neglected cock. Her grip was nowhere near tight enough or fast enough but it had him moaning regardless. Her fingers were back at his entrance again, dripping with lube and rubbing gently against his hole. She dipped the tips of her fingers inside of his loosened hole before pulling them back out, teasing him with what he wanted until he couldn’t take it anymore. He rocked back on her fingers, forcing them deeper inside of him. They booth moaned, her head falling forward to rest against the small of his back. Encouraged by her reaction Shoto began to rock back and forth, pushing himself down onto her fingers and then forward into her waiting hand.  

“Look at you, fucking yourself back onto my fingers like the greedy little whore you are” Her filthy words had Shoto gasping, pushing back harder. “Please” he gasped, hoping she would grant him whatever it was he was begging for because he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure if he wanted her to continue with the filthy words, fingers moving inside of him or if he wanted her to finally give him what he had asked for all those weeks ago.

“Shush love” her voice was low and gentle as she soothed him, a delicate hand petting at his side. “Just a little more and then I’ll give you what you want”. As she spoke she pulled her fingers out of him causing him to let out a small sob at the emptiness. He didn’t have to wait long, her fingers returning but this time a third pushed in alongside the other two. Despite knowing better Shoto pushed back against them, wincing at the sudden shock of pain at being forced wider. “Gently” she chided him and Shoto stilled, allowing her to slowly work the three fingers into him, pushing a little bit deeper every time. He let out a shaky breath once her fingers stilled, finally all the way in.

She kept still as Shoto adjusted, stroking his sides and a pressing kisses against the small of his back in between soothing words. “You’re doing so well. Shush just breathe. Relax, that’s it. Doing so well love”.  He was breathing slow and shallow, trying not to move too much. He felt so full, his ass stretched wide around her fingers and it was a delicious kind of pain.

After a while he felt comfortable enough to rock his hips slight and that was the only permission she needed. Her fingers curled, brushing against his prostate and causing him to cry out once more. She worked methodically after that, her fingers moving in and out of him quickly and efficiently. Her fingers barley brushed against his prostate but every time she did it had him gasping and pushing back for more.

She shifted behind him, draping herself along his back and nipping at his ear. “You ready?” It was the second time she had asked him that tonight and unlike last time he was quick an answer, gasping out a desperate ‘yes’ as she brushed against his prostate one last time before gently slipping her fingers free. “Touch yourself” she demanded before placing a quick kiss on his cheek and moving back, the bed shifting as she got up. Groaning Shoto wrapped a shaky hand around his dick, lazily moving it up and down. He kept his grip lose, afraid that if he gave himself too much attention he would cum before she got to fuck him. Behind him he could hear fabric rustling as she finally undressed, catching a glimpse of black as she threw her top to the side. Then came the snap of elastic and metal snaps clicking into place, the crinkling sound of a condom wrapper being opened and then the sound of a bottle cap opening. Shoto wanted to look. He wanted to see what she looked like with it hanging between her legs. Wanted to watch her cover it in lube whilst she hovered over him. He was just about to turn when the bed dipped, her warm hands sliding up his thighs as she crawled up behind him. He pushed back against her hands, hopping to feel more of her pressed against him but she was too far back and he groaned in disappointment. Laughing gently she knocked his hand away from his aching dick and replacing it with her own, fingers wrapping tightly around him. He cried out at the sudden increase in pressure, her hand moving quickly for a few short strokes before her hand was gone. He didn’t have time to lament the loss as she curled one hand tightly around his hip and the tip of the dildo brushed against his waiting hole. He stiffened at the sudden pressure, body tensing at the prospect of having something bigger inside him. “Breath love. We’re going to take this nice and slow” she reassured him, booth hands rubbing soothing circles into his sides. With a deep breath Shoto shifted, getting both hands back underneath him and pushing his chest back up. He lifted his head, staring at her headboard as he tried to calm his racing heart. He was nervous again, worried about the pain that he was sure would come. She stayed still behind him, the tip just pressed against him as her hands ran over his back and sides, trying to ease his tension. He was grateful for her allowing him this moment, his breath finally evening out and he nodded his head and pushed back over so slightly. Her hands went back to his hips, holding him still as she began to push forward. Shoto gasped at the first real push, his hole stretching around the head of the toy. It didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would, the time she spent stretching him helping with that but it still stung slightly. She pressed forward slowly, rocking her hips gently and stopping every now and then to give him time to adjust. The whole time she whispered words of encouragement to him, her tone gentle as the words tumbled from her lips. “You’re doing so well love. Just relax. That’s it. Halfway now. So good for me. Just breathe. Look at you taking it so well. Almost there last push”. Her words helped, the whispered praise sending shivers down his spine. When she finally bottomed out she stilled, hips pressed tight against his ass. Shoto’s head had fallen forward, hanging between his trembling arms as he tried to calm himself down. He was so full and he could feel every inch of the thing inside of him, every raised vein pushing against his walls, the stretch just on the good side of painful. Experimentally he constricted his muscles, clenching down on the toy and letting out a soft moan. Chuckling gently she leaned forward to rest her head on his shoulders, the toy shifting inside of him and causing him to suck in a breath. He could feel her smiling as she mouthed at his warm skin, teeth nipping at his shoulder blades. “Feels good doesn’t it” it wasn’t a question and Shoto frowned turning his head slightly to try and look at her. “Did you really think I was going to put something inside you that I didn’t know would feel good?” She mumbled against his back, teeth scrapping gently across the abused skin. Shoto’s eyes widened as he fully registered her words, his mind filling with images of her in a similar position as he was now expect she was alone, working her own fingers into her before plunging the toy into her stretched hole, twisting and turning it to get the best angle as she fucked herself. He groaned, head falling forward once again and pre-cum dripping from his neglected cock. At some point he wanted to see that, to watch her take herself apart on the same thing she was using to wreck him but that would have to wait, his own need pressing down on his mind and demanding release. He must have spoken without realizing it because she was laughing again, leaning back and gripping his hips once more. “Next time love”. With that she slowly began to pull back until only the head of the toy was left inside him. “Sing for me” she demanded then snapped her hips forward, pushing back inside and Shoto did, head flying back as he cried out towards the ceiling. She quickly found a rhythm somewhere between fast and slow, grinding against his ass every time she pushed into him. Every couple of thrusts she would brush over that sensitive spot inside and he would cry out, hands clawing at her sheets as he pushed back looking for more of that sharp burst of pleasure. It didn’t take long for him to start pushing back against her, fucking himself back on the dick that was now gliding easily into him. He was a babbling, incoherent mess, begging her for more but she wouldn’t cave, instead keeping to her maddening pace that wasn’t enough to push him over the edge. One of her hands left his hip and Shoto keened, anticipating the feel of her hand wrapping around his aching dick but it never came. There was a soft click, barely audible over his heavy breathing, followed by a gentle hum. Her fingers clenched on his hip, blunt nails digging in as she let out a low groan. She collapsed against him, her breasts pressing against his back as she ground her hips forward. The hand not in his hips slipped into his hair, grabbing tightly at the slightly damp strands and tugged his head back. He gasped at the sudden pain but the sound was swallowed as she sealed her lips over his in a sloppy kiss. He kissed back as best as he could, his tongue lapping at her mouth and muffling her moan. Pulling back he made a confused noise but she was already gone, letting go of his hair to grip at his hips and jerk him back onto the toy. He gasped as she hit his prostate straight on, hitting it again and again as she spoke, her voice low and breathless. “I said you couldn’t have a vibrator, I didn’t say anything about me not having one” he could hear the amusement in her voice as she thrust forward again groaning loudly and all Shoto could do was let out his own cry. “Please. I, I want” he couldn’t get the words out, every one falling into a moan. She slowed down, closer to grinding against him than actually fucking him and Shoto whined at the lack of friction, trying to pull forward so he could fuck himself against her. Her hands tightened on his hips, her bruising grip stilling him and holding him tight against her. “What do you want?” She asked, tone gentle as she came to a complete stop. Shoto sobbed, his arms finally giving out and he collapsed onto his elbows. “Shoto. What do you want?” She asked again but this time her voice was hard, an edge to it that left him no room to deny her. “Wonna see you” he managed to mumble out against the sheets, head turned to the side and tear filled eyes straining to make out the room beyond. Silence greeted him and Shoto began to feel panic creeping up along the edges of his mind, slowly eating away at his pleasure. Had he said something wrong? Maybe she didn’t want to see him, see the blissed out look on his face as she fucked him. Maybe she truly was disgusted with him and this was the only way she could make it through this. She slowly pulled out of him and Shoto let out a chocked off sob, shoving his face into the pillow. He felt the bed dip as she got off and he had to fight back tears. This was the point she left him. He jerked as gentle fingers slid round to curl under his chin, gently turning his head to look back out over the room. He expected anger and disgust but instead he found her smiling gently down at him, eyes filled with love. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red and he could see where she had been biting at her lip. “Whatever you want my love'” her voice was gentle, loving and Shoto felt a rush of relief flood over him, mixed with the overwhelming love he felt for the women before him. He smiled gently back at her and began to turn onto his back, wincing slightly at the dull throb of pain. She stayed next to the bed until he had made himself comfortable, checking that he was okay before climbing on top of him and settling between his spread legs. His eyes instantly went down to thing between her legs, the black dildo looking incredibly large and he couldn’t help but marvel that it had been inside of him. His erection had softened slightly in his moment of panic but watching her line herself back up to his entrance, getting ready to take him again had him hardening once more. Slowly she slid back inside and Shoto gasped, the angle different like this and causing the toy to push against his prostate. She watched him intently, looking for any sign of discomfort but when she didn’t find any she smiled down at him. He watched as she fiddled with a small control she had tucked into the side of the harness, pushing buttons until she let out a small gasp, hips jerking forward and pressing the toy deeper inside of him.

She leant forward, resting her weight on one arm braced against the bed next to his head and the other slid down his thigh, curling around the muscle and yanking his leg up to her hip. Like this they were closer, her breasts pushed against his chest and mouth close enough to his that he had no problem reaching up, curling his arms around her neck and pulling her down for a kiss. It wasn’t lost on him that this was often how they ended up when he fucked her, pressed close together and sharing breath as they both moaned and panted for more. She couldn’t get the same kind of movement like this as she had before but like this she pushed against his prostate with every thrust, the toy dragging against it and pulling almost a constant stream of cries from him. Breaking free of his lips, she hung her head down next to his ear, every moaned word that came next sending shivers down his spine. “Look at you. Taking me so perfectly. Singing so sweetly for me it’s almost enough to make me cum from that alone”. Shoto arched up into her, nails digging into her back hard as her words washed over him. He wanted to be perfect for her, wanted her to enjoy breaking him as much as he was enjoying being broken. “Please” he gasped, nails scratching along her back as she lifted herself up enough to look him in the eyes. He could only imagine how he looked to her. Skin flushed red and tears falling from his eyes, mouth hanging open as he gasped for air and moaned for more. “Please” he cried again, rolling his hips down as best as he could. “Okay” she whispered, pulling back even more so she could fuck into him faster and harder, hitting that spot dead on every time. Shoto cried, his muscles clenching down on the toy as his climax rushed forward. He felt on edge, like glass about to shatter but it wasn’t enough, he needed more. Whining he grabbed at her hips, fingers scrabbling at sweat slicked skin as he tried to pull her closer. She snatched up one of his hands, curling it around his own dick before going back to gripping his leg, holding him open for her as she drove him closer to the edge. Franticly he jerked at his straining prick, his hands gliding as he rubbed his pre-cum over himself. He was babbling nonsense, chasing his release and not really paying attention to what was coming out of his mouth, only catching the odd word. He was sure he called her name, singing her praise as he begged for more and in between he gasped and moaned, sure he sounded like one of the pornos he had gotten the idea of this from. Above him she moaned, her hand disappearing for a second before returning to his thigh. The vibrating sounds had gotten louder and somehow she was slamming into him harder and faster, moaning just as loud as him. “Close, I’m close” he called out as the coil tightened in his stomach, his hand squeezing tightly at his swollen and dripping head. “Then come for me” she demand before falling forward, lips crashing against his and forcing her tongue into his waiting mouth. Shoto cried, body tensing as she pushed hard against his prostate, his hand moving quickly over his pulsing member. He came harder than he could ever remember, ass clenching down on the toy inside as hot spurts of cum shot out of him, splattering against their stomachs and dripping over his hand, his vision blurring as it burst with bright white. Above him she stilled, groaning into his mouth as her body shock and then everything seemed to fade to black. When he finally came to Shoto groaned, unsure how long he had been out. She was no longer with him, the room eerily empty. Frowning he went to sit up but a sharp pain shot up his back and he collapsed back onto the bed with a gasp. “I highly recommend against moving” her voice floated across the room and Shoto turned to see her coming out of the bathroom, washcloth in hard. She had gotten rid of the toy and harness and was now gloriously naked with faint red lines loping around her waist and thighs but they were already fading, probably along with whatever ones he had left on her back. Slowly she sank onto the bed next to him, dragging the warm cloth over him and cleaning him off. Shoto hummed at the gentle treatment, eyes slipping closed once more and enjoying her caring touch. “How you feeling?” She asked tentatively. Shoto cracked his eyes open looking at her and surprised to see her frowning down at the towel in her hands. “Sore” he said truthfully, not missing the way she tensed slightly. “But good”. She turned to him, eyebrow raised in question but her lips were quirking you in a small smile, matching his. She threw the towel toward the corner of the room before crawling into the bed and curling into his side. He draped an arm over her shoulder and buried his face into her hair. “Thank you” he mumbled, his arm tightening around her. “Glad I could give you something you wanted” the silence stretched in between them and Shoto felt his eyes starting to droop, exhaustion finally finding him. “Was it, what you wanted?” Her voice was quiet and if he had been just that little bit closer to sleep he probably would have missed the whispered question, uncertainty lacing every word. He kissed her head before using his head to get her to tip hers back so he could look into her eyes. “Better than I imagined”. She blushed at his words, any trace of doubt being chased away. He lent down placing a gentle kiss against her bitten red lips. It was soft, nothing more than a gentle brush of lips but it was perfect. The sound of her phone dinging had her pulling away with a groan. Reluctantly she pulled away, stumbling from the bed and disappearing into the half-darkness of the living room. When she came back she had a large fluffy looking grey throw with her, throwing it across him before turning the lamp off and crawling back into the bed, snuggling up to his side once more. The light of her phone was harsh in the darkness and Shoto turned his head away, eyes closing as he let out an annoyed huff. “Who is it” he grumbled, annoyed that his moment had been disturbed. “Work” she sighed, slinging an arm over his stomach so her hand could curl around his side and turned to press her front flush against his side. “Nothing important” she mumbled and Shoto grunted, eyes closing and resting his head against hers. Her breathing evened out quickly, little puffs of warm air tickling his skin. With a sight Shoto sunk back into the bed, closing his eyes and willing sleep to take him. Tonight had been good, better than he had ever dared to hope for and all he wanted to do tonight was bask in his pain fuzzy afterglow and enjoy having the women he loved in his arms.

Icy Interrogation

Title: Icy Interrogation

Fandom: Love365 Masquerade Kiss

Pairing:  Kazuomi Shido x MC

Word count: 2,998

Warning: NSFW Smut

Written by: darkmindsotome

Summary:  A sudden trip with no explanation triggers a game of unmasking that becomes hotter than the weather.

Tagging @voltage-vixen as requested. Prompt #10: Ice Cube Cool Down | Ice Cream Cool Down

---

It was a lazy day and I found myself still temporarily “homeless” and staying at Raven. When everything had happened, Kazuomi stepped up and offered me a job and a roof over my head. I was really grateful to him. Not just with the offer but knowing that I would have lost another part of myself in the line of duty without him.

As ludicrous as it sounded, he was my safe place I could run to and know I would be accepted. The man topping the world's blacklists as the number one bad guy. The man who at any moment could once more be my target. It was his loving arms always reaching out for me, willing to hold me. Me as I am, not who I was for work. Plain old Mc. It was a joy I had never experienced before in any other relationship. He was his own brand of dangerous persuasion and I continue to fall fast and hard for it every time.

Since becoming a couple, he had helped me remember the me who I was before all the lies, aliases and espionage. He comforted me when I didn’t even know I needed it and accepted me no matter how I was acting. The love and kindness of this man was an absolute truth he hid well behind his usual playboy mask. That’s not to say he was an Angel, if anything he was a Devil at times. Still, better the Devil you know right?

Raven in England was different to Raven in New York or Tokyo. It was still a grand luxury hotel but there was something a bit more reserved about it. I giggled imagining how that sat with Mr Dramatic. A man famed the world over for his extravagance and love of all things opulent.

I had been rushed onto a private jet in the early hours of the morning in New York only to wake up in an airfield in England nearly seven hours later. All my repeated requests for my boyfriend to explain why I was here were met with evasive answers. In typical Kazuomi fashion, he would not reveal any secrets, if I wanted to know I would have to uncover the answers myself. Well, game on.

When I was pondering how I would get him to crack the door to the penthouse opened, the man in question strolling inside. The dark green bags in his hand had the words Harrods picked out clearly on them in gold. He vanished into the kitchen and reappeared empty-handed moments later with a big grin on his face.

“Welcome back.” I adjusted myself on the sofa dropping the magazine I had been idly perusing on the coffee table. The ice in my glass clinked against the tumbler where a final mouthful of fruit juice remained waiting to be drunk.

“What no third degree?” Kazuomi practically purred. He was really in a very happy mood which made me even more suspicious. Seriously what was this guy up to?

“What would be the point? You already made it very clear you intend on telling me nothing. I’m not in the habit of wasting my time on a blisteringly hot day.” I shrugged pretending my curiosity was not reaching its limits.

Kazuomi was watching me intently. My little act was no doubt doing nothing to hide anything from him. Damn him and his observational superpowers. It was easy to tell that he was wanting me to bite. Take the bait and play along with his little games. ever since my questioning on the plane he had this playful look in his eyes.

The heat of the summer here was different to that from back home and I was feeling sluggish. It was so hot even the locals had dubbed the weather “unseasonal” and I had found a bit of solace in a light cotton dress.

“Fair point.” He agreed with me smiling that Cheshire cat grin. I was just about to reach for my glass to finish the last of my drink when he took it for himself. I watched as the minted apple juice was drained over his lips and slid down his throat. “Ah, that’s the stuff.”

“Hey!”

“Yes?” He kept hold of the glass in his hand-balancing it on the back of the sofa we were sharing. The look on his face was far from guilty if anything it was yet another taunt to get me to play with him. A silent request I was already planning on fulfilling.

“Oh, you are so going to regret that.”

“Am I? I can’t wait to see what my Goddess has in mind for retribution.”

That cocky grin on his face was as irritating as it was sexy. Well, the game had officially started so I guess now it's time to play. His successful theft of my drink had given me an idea.

I moved over to his side careful to push my breast against his arm and let him see them taking a new form as they pressed into him. He was observant enough to have seen from the second he walked in that I wasn't in a full set of lingerie. Trailing my hand over his leg from his knee to the top of his thigh, I made sure to brush a little too close to his cock. He relaxed back into the sofa. Both arms now stretched out over the seat he looked like the epitome of a lion surveying the savannah.

“Mm don’t tell me my girl has been bored waiting for me?” That same playful happy purr rippled through the room. This time instead of spiking my curiosity it made my heartbeat speed up.

“You left me all alone again without a single word as to when you’d be back and with only glossy magazines to keep me company.” I whined a little as I played the part he wanted. I wasn’t so new at these little games that I would not know my own role.

Reading my target was something that kept me alive on missions. It was what made our games together so much fun. Both of us competing to unmask the other. To get the other to surrender and declare a winner. It was a little amusing that it normally “officially” ended in a draw between us even if Kazuomi was really the winner in all honesty.

“A disastrous oversight on my part. How ever would you like me to make it up to you?” On cue, he made the first play. He was matching my mock whine with fake placation in his voice. Moving his hips so my hand brushed harder where he wanted it to.

“Well, you could tell me why we are here. I thought you had work in New York to attend too.” I pulled my hand away preventing his move and brought it up to his cheek. Brushing my thumb over his lips as I looked into his eyes. He took the pad of my thumb between his lips biting down onto it before answering.

“Somethings are more important and can’t wait.”

“What things?” I tried pressing for a real answer knowing how futile it was. His eyes were locked on me in that stubbornly defiant manner he had where he was not going to give up anything until he was ready.

“All will be revealed in due time.” The grin on his face spread wider. He was certainly enjoying this.

I gave up simply stroking him and decided to straddle him instead. The sight of him trapped under me was always a thrill and not one I always had. Kazuomi was the type to enjoy what he called a perfect view. It only happened for as long as he would allow it before I was usually flipped over and he ended up on top.

Our bedroom activities were always a flurry of motion and give and take. The endless competition between us to come out on top. This kind of contest that carried throughout our relationship and into sex left us both craving more. Right now, I was looking for something he had, the key to the secret emergency trip to England that in his mind couldn’t wait.

My fingers undid his shirt while he remained very calm and collected, his arms still locked over the back of the sofa. The only part of him moving except for the growing bulge under my thighs was his eyes. They were roaming over me taking in every detail and mapping every curve.

After uncovering his broad bare chest, I dipped my hand down and relieved him of his belt. Leaning forward I covered his lips with mine. His tongue lapped at my lower lip before pushing past and ravishing my mouth. The remnants of mint and apple on his tongue dissolved inside me as the heat between us rose.

The arms that had been holding back were wrapping around me tight like a snake. The cold glass in his hand pressed into the dip of my spine causing me to groan into his mouth. If I wasn’t careful, he was going to steal all of my rational thoughts and I would forget about my self-imposed mission.

Reaching behind I took the empty glass from his hand. After breaking out of our lip lock I poured one of the melting ice cubes into my mouth. The devilish smirk on his face was still plastered there. He had never once tried to hide how he loved his kinky little games and I was always willing to play along.

I reached up and pulled a fist full of his reddish-brown hair exposing his neck to me. Dragging the ice in my mouth over that pulsating artery and feeling him moaning under me was like I was charged with an electrical current. His hands settled on my ass rubbing his thumbs over the top of the elastic on my panties through my dress. I pushed his hands away pinning one on either side of him and brought my mouth lower.

The water from the melting ice escaped my lips running across his muscles. That broad chest becoming something of a salacious slip and slide. I tracked the flow to his own waistband and slid my weight from his lap to rest my head over his now rock hard desire.

He hissed as I pulled it free from the confines of his pants exposing enough to do what I planned and no more. The hiss became an almost instant grunt as he bucked his hips against me when I slid the ice along his shaft. Rolling it and my tongue around that throbbing head and back down again. He hated to be in clothes at times like this and I was taking a little satisfaction in his discomfort. Karma is a bitch, isn’t it?

Ice melted now I wrapped my mouth around his cock bobbing my head alternating fast and slow. I was taking full advantage of the chill in my mouth before it had time to fade, seeking peeks at him from between his thighs. Each time I looked up I saw that dark and powerful look waiting for me. The one that didn’t just threaten to eat me up but promised to. I felt my own passions stirring more and was a little thankful when he freed his hands and pulled me off his cock back up into his lap.

“Is that another of your little spy tricks?” He was rushing to free me from my dress. His fingers fumbling with the buttons.

“You know I never sleep with someone when I’m working.” I reminded him of the facts, rolling my hips against him before whispering in his ear. “It’s all me.” He shuddered when I took the lobe of his ear in my mouth and gave it a little tug. Our little game was only just beginning.

“What a bad girl you are.” He chuckled pulling me to him so he could clamp down on my collar bone. A sting of pain later and I had a fresh very visible mark for the world to see. It was childish and as much as I would complain later about it I also loved the idea that he wants me so badly he felt compelled to do it. “I always knew you were my kind of woman.”

His fingers now given up with undoing my dress properly slipped into the gaps between them and tugged hard. The sound of fabric ripping and popped buttons hitting the floor like a rainmaker only served to create the music to our mood. His trousers and my panties were yet more fallen victims to our passions.

Shimming to the edge of the sofa he wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted us both off the seat. I didn’t complain about the dress I knew it would only be met with “I’ll get you a new one” later. What did make me confused was we weren’t moving towards the bedroom at all.

“Mhm… where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” Kazuomi walked into the brightly lit space that was the kitchen. Instead of putting me down on the floor, he sat my ass on the cold hard countertop. The polished marble was beautiful and smooth but damn it was freezing.

He bent down and rummaged around in the freezer for a second before pulling out a small tub with a very familiar logo.

“Is that Lady Borden?”

“A completely new and exclusive flavour. It was released today.” He smiled pulling the paper cap from the carton and then dipping his fingers into the frozen treat. He brought it to my mouth and bit his lips as I slid my tongue over his digits chasing that luxurious creamy delight.

I was so absorbed in not letting the ice cream on his fingers go to waste that it took a few seconds for what he had just said to sink in. Lady Borden was known to produce limited flavours in different countries all over the world. They were exclusive to the place so it was not a massive shock that one would be done in England, but it was released today?

“H-hang on. Are you telling me you put work on hold and flew from one side of the Atlantic to the other JUST to get this?” I snatched the carton from his hand and looked at the pale green container. Luxury Early Grey Tea flavour ice cream. I’d been so into what we were doing I didn’t even taste it.

“Naturally. I know you’re a superfan too and the chance to get my hands on the first tubs of this was too much to pass up.” He took the pot back with one hand and used his other to push me lower onto the marble. “And now I also get to have my favourite dessert on the best plate in the house.”

I felt ridiculous laying on a countertop but I knew that feeling wasn’t going to be in my mind very long. I shivered as he took a scoop of the ice cream out once more on his fingers and drew a line on me from my belly button to my clavicle.

“It’s cold.” I squirmed. Kazuomi dipped down and dragged his tongue along the line he had just painted. Instead of going right to the top, he stopped at my chest. Taking a nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it before moving to the other side.

“I’ll warm you up.” His breath over my flushed skin was hotter than anything else in the room.

“It’s all sticky.” I arched against him his trail of kisses and gentle nips with his teeth continued as he lazily painted me with more of the ice cream.  

“I’ll be sure to clean it all up and lick you nice and clean.” He vanished from my peripheral vision. I felt his heat move away leaving me laid out for all to see. His “plate”.

The ice cream was melting fast running in ticklish rivers over me and one that he had placed low down was working its way towards my core. I didn’t have time to look to see where my bad boy boyfriend had gone. With a slap on the counter from his hands, he pounced, his face buried between my thighs as he pinned me in place with his arms and tongue. All strength in my body vanished as it tried to focus on him and his targeted attacks.

“Ah! Kazuomi!” I wasn’t just arching I was sure I had probably contorted into a pretzel at the intensity of the pleasure he was giving me. His mouth was always so talented and the things he did with his fingers? My mind was getting foggy trying to keep up with him.

I was so close and if history told me anything he wasn’t far behind. I was lost in his eyes when he stood back up. The gleam of my own juices lingering on his lips as he licked them clean. With one hand on my hip and the other dragging one of my legs to his shoulder, he positioned me well enough to tell me what was happening next.

Hanging partly off the edge and stretched out in a way that meant he had full control I saw sparks the second he entered me.

“Ngh… Mc.”

The sounds of us joined together echoed in the bright space of the kitchen. The ice cream on my skin adding a new scent between us as our heat soared higher than the weather outside.

I said before Karma was a bitch. The games we had as we had our unmasking sessions added to that knowledge. Right now though as we both lost ourselves in the moment for the first of many times today I really couldn’t bring myself to be angry with them.

---

17 Questions, 17 People

Thanks for tagging me @teencopandthesourwolf @tulipintulle @fanfics-fix @ilovepeachystuff @oneawkwardcookie @prettyboyandthekid @mistmarauder ❤️

Nicknames: On tumbler? Dee (or Nove, to @teencopandthesourwolf !). In real life, I have had many nicknames over the years, mostly derived from my full first name, but these days most people just call me by my proper name, except for when my family are feeling particularly affectionate or I run into someone from my past.

Zodiac: Scorpio ♏️ 🦂

Height: 5'10

Hogwarts house: I have never read any of the Harry Potter books or watched any of the films (and I intend to keep it that way), but all my friends who are familiar with the source material have all, without exception, said I’d be a Ravenclaw, and from what I have gleaned about the series over the years from tumblr, etc, I’d say that feels right. (That’s right, I’m claiming the house that loves books, but I’ve never read the series. Go figure.)

Last thing I googled: I was looking back over some of the sets of prompt words the @sterekdrabbles blog posted recently and there was one set where two of the three words made me think ‘Hang on, there’s a poem with a line that features both those words, isn’t there?’, so I googled the line I remembered (which is also the name of an episode of a show I watch, which is probably why it stuck in my memory, thank you for that, Morseverse) and, sure enough, I found it. So now I just need to work out how to work it into a drabble with the other prompt word. Which could take me anywhere from two hours to two years.

Number of followers: 1087 (hugs and kisses for you all).

Song stuck in my head: How Dare You Want More by Bleachers.

How much sleep: I tend to be feast or famine with sleep so it really does vary wildly.

Lucky number: I don’t know that I have a lucky number, but I have some favourite ones. 23 is probably my most favourite, though.

Dream job: Archaeologist, writer or psychologist. I like digging beneath the surface of things.

Wearing: Grey lounge pants (that’s what the site I got them from calls them, they’re basically a mix between sweatpants and pyjama bottoms), a lavender t-shirt and a lavender cardigan. The t-shirt and cardigan were bought years apart and from different places, but you’d think they came as a set because the colour is such a good match.

Favourite song: I honestly don’t have an all-time favourite.

Favourite instrument: To listen to? Probably piano. I don’t play any actual instruments (unless primary school-level recorder counts), but I do play a mean set of air drums.

Aesthetic: Cat lady meets rock chick.

Favourite author: I honestly don’t know.

Favourite animal noise: Cats purring. I know, that’s what nearly everyone has already said, but it’s true.

Something random: I love old Bob Hope movies. (Well, it’s not like he’s making any new ones, but you know what I mean.)

I’m trying to avoid tagging all the same people the people who tagged me tagged, so I tag @imwritesometimes @kiti-the-warrior-poet @firstdegreefangirl @nade2308 @smowkie @siflovesbuddie @greenapricot @sal-si-puedes @elysiumwaits @statusquoergo @aprilinparis92 @thesightlesssniper @mandysimo13 @fluffbyday-smutbynight @colourfulwatson @foreverthemomfriend @largepeachicedtea and anyone else who wants to play. Absolutely no pressure on anyone who doesn’t, or who’s already done it recently. I promise you don’t need to feel obligated to do this, I take no offence either way. And if you do decide to do it, but would prefer to skip any of the questions then please feel free to do so. My aim is not to stress anyone out or make them uncomfortable.😘

one inch from the edge of this bed

♛ 5x01: James dreams about Teresa. (1.6k words; rating Mature: language, violence, sexual situations) tags: james can have some magical realism as a treat, morphine is a helluva drug

 ➢ read on ao3 or below the cut:  

(note: I originally wrote this as part of a longer story about James’ journey to reunite with Teresa, so for the purpose of this drabble, morphine is making him forget he’s already seen her...cool? cool. thanks for reading!)

♛

James rarely sleeps deeply enough to dream. What starts as a coping mechanism in his childhood only gets cemented further by the military. Now no matter how tired he becomes, he can never quite turn off that last light in the back of his head. It’s for the best, probably. The things he’s seen—the shit he’s done. Who knows what nightmare would crawl out of the well of his subconscious if given half the chance.

The rare times he does dream, he’s usually able to wake himself up within a matter of seconds. It’s automatic now, like he’s rewired a shortcut in his brain. By the time he opens his eyes the dream is nothing more than a faint memory skipping across the surface of his mind without ever dropping an anchor.

The big, bad assassin and his built-in night light. He’d laugh if he didn’t count it as yet another valuable weapon in his arsenal.  It’s not like he doesn’t know this concession by his personal demons is only a layaway plan. Whatever he doesn’t pay for now will come due at least ten times over later.

Still, when he opens his eyes to see morning light filtered through breeze-stirred curtains, he doesn’t catch on right away. It’s not the sunshine that tips him off or the softness of the bed. It’s not the light breeze wafting through the open window, or even the dip of the mattress behind him.

It’s a sense of peace he hasn’t known in nearly a year. It’s the sound of her hushed voice, whispering his name.

“Don’t hide from me,” she says. “I know you’re awake.”

His heart leaps then plummets at the smile he hears in her words, sweet joy chased by sick panic. It’s not just the nightmares he’s been avoiding in his sleep. 

Dreaming of Teresa is an indulgence he can no longer afford.

When he left with Devon, he knew he’d need more than just physical distance between her and his new life, from what he’d have to do there and who he might have to become to do it. He couldn’t risk it warping his feelings for her.  He couldn’t let it twist his memories or cloud his purpose.

So in the last moments of his freedom, as Devon drove him away into the night, he allowed himself to hold close all that she meant to him: her innate goodness, her fierce bravery, how her eyes warmed whenever she smiled.

And then he built a room around those memories—built the wall brick by brick in his mind until they were shut away. He didn’t need a key. He didn’t even build a door. It was the only way of protecting both those memories and himself.

Leaving her meant leaving her behind.

One look at her now will undo all of his careful compartmentalization. One look at her, no matter if she’s real or imagined, will destroy those walls to dust.  He can’t get off mission, he has to stay on task, he has to—he can’t remember what exactly.  But it feels important, deathly so.

He closes his eyes and waits for the awareness of the dream to catapult him to consciousness but something is wrong. His mind refuses to obey the command.

Error: shortcut not found.

And with every passing second it’s harder to remember why it’s so important for him to resist, his urgency to awaken quickly replaced by an urgency of a different kind.  He can’t stop the hum in the back of his throat at the touch of her fingers brushing across his abdomen or how his body automatically angles itself toward the warmth of hers, inexorable like the tide.

She laughs and the sound of her joy hooks beneath his ribcage, turning him toward her.  They never had enough time.  Little things like lying in bed together, easing into the day with lazy touches and hushed sighs turned into something valuable, something to hold on to, something that’s supposed to be in a lockbox behind a fucking brick wall.

“Hmm, it’s like that is it?” she asks, voice like warm honey sending an anticipatory flare of heat up his spine. “Let’s see if I can’t wake you up.”

The drag of her hair across his chest is all the warning he needs before her lips find his and what’s left of his resistance falls away like tumblers in a lock.  There are no more walls left between them now. No air. Just heat, hands and skin so soft he can barely manage not to bruise it in his desperate need to get her even closer.

An alarm bell rings in some distant corner of his mind, but one hand has already buried itself in her hair, angling her head for better access to her mouth.  The other has slipped beneath her sleep worn shirt, fingers brushing up her ribs to the soft, warm weight of her breast.

This isn’t real.

He doesn’t fucking care.

The past year has been a brutally cold one, filled with blood-soaked ops and people he couldn’t trust.  He’s spent the last twelve months always on guard, either enacting violence, experiencing it or expecting it. To have Teresa here, tangibly safe in his arms, and so, so warm is almost more than he can take, let alone resist.

Her breath stutters against his lips and it feels like a hit of pure oxygen, like she’s reviving him from the dead.

He opens his eyes, pushing her hair back up and out of her face to take her in. She always smiled more freely in their quiet moments together, something that made him feel more powerful than any firearm ever had. Her lips curve now, soft and sweet, her eyes half lidded by pleasure and the knife that’s lodged in his heart tears a downward path, spilling all of his carefully contained emotions from the wound. His grip on her waist tightens too much to go unnoticed.

“What’s wrong?” Her eyes flicker quickly over his face, the ever present worry never too far from the surface of their lives.

He wants to reassure her, to hold onto the playfulness between them, but the ache of it makes him honest. “I miss you.”

“I’m right here,” she replies, voice barely a whisper, perhaps sensing the deadly seriousness of his words. He’s never missed anything half as much as her.  It used to scare him to think of what he’d be willing to do to have this once again. What lines he’d cross to get back to her, to this.

He no longer wonders anymore.  He knows.  The knowledge that he’d do it all over again if it kept her safe didn’t absolve his crimes.  It sure as hell didn’t silence the echo of screams in his head.

“Are you?” His voice is rough but he gentles his hand, smoothing it down her hip to lightly grip her thigh, relishing the strength he can feel beneath his fingertips. He forces a smirk, an attempt to salvage the lightheartedness, and though the slight narrowing of her eyes suggests she sees right through his façade, she concedes to his wishes with a soft smile, tossing her hair over one shoulder to lean down and nip his jawline.

“What do you miss?” she teases, biting gently at the tendon of his neck, sucking lightly at first then sharper.  “This?”

His breath catches in his throat and she hums her approval into his skin.  “Or maybe this?” she murmurs, shifting to run a flat palm down his belly, lower and lower until she’s cupping him through his boxer briefs.

He groans as she strokes him, and she smiles in delight as his hips reflexively rock up into her hand. Her eyes lock onto his, like she knows exactly what power she has over him, like she wants to see the exact moment he surrenders.  It won’t take long. It feels so fucking good that it’s only his pride that keeps him from panting.

Her eyes dance wickedly.  “Or maybe this?”

As quick as lightning, she releases him to grab at his waist, tickling in just the right spot to make him nearly levitate off the bed.

“Fuck,” he laughs, grabbing for her wrists to roll her underneath him, pinning her arms above her head. She’s breathless and beaming and so goddamned pleased with herself that he can’t take his eyes off of her.  She’s beautiful.

“This,” he murmurs, slotting himself between her legs, rolling his hips hard and slow, repeating the movement when her face goes slack with pleasure.

“This,” he breathes, as her heels dig into the back of his thighs, pressing him closer as he leans down to catch her moan with his mouth.

This, he thinks, losing himself in the hazy heat of her. This, this, this.

He senses it a split-second before it happens, like a sudden change in air pressure.  The distant urgency of his mission slamming into focus with the echo of a high powered rifle shot and the shattering glass of the window.

Fiery pain rips through his abdomen, but it's the soft cry beneath him that has him in agony.

He remembers now what was so important.  He remembers now what he was supposed to do.

“Teresa,” he chokes, slumping to the side to get himself fully between her and the window.  He's losing strength fast, barely able to prop himself up enough to assess the damage.  At first he thinks the blood covering her chest is his own, but then he sees it: the entry wound where the bullet passed through him into her.

Her eyes stare up at him in disbelief, words gurgling around the blood pooling in her throat. “James?”

He has to —

“James,” she repeats, blood trickling out the corner of her mouth, her voice growing faint.  

He has to —

“Save me.”

♛

ao3

STATISTICS.

name: winter mcnair  birth date (age): 26 december 1925 (30)   faceclaim:  andrew koji  gender identity (pronouns): cis male (he/him)  blood status: half-blood  occupation: veternarian

AESTHETICS & MOTIVATIONS.

You did your best to change who you were. But no matter how much you try, something keeps dragging you back down to the icy depths. The worst monsters are those we bring with us. Chaos, confusion, fear- you're afraid. What you believe shapes who you are. Belief can bring salvation or destruction. Whispered prayers and empty whisky tumblers keep you from falling completely, but time is running out.

BIO.

How Winter Grew Up?

Winter Macnair wasn’t anyone special. The Macnair’s were tolerated within social circles but mostly out of respect of ancestors. Their blood had been tainted for three decades due to an unfortunate marriage to a halfblood. But that didn’t stop the Macnair’s from riding the coattails of the sacred 28. Winter was a quiet child, reserved and surveyed the world with an innocence not entirely supported by his parents. Being an only child, he found solace with animals and constantly sneaked wild and stray animals into his room. There was something sweet and pure about having such a precious life in his hands and the companionship sated his need for comfort. His attitude changed though when his time for Hogwarts came around. His parents ordered him to make friends, ensure connections, to better himself and in return, them. Sorted into Slytherin, it opened his mind to the darkness and bitterness which revolved in it. The class system and elitism the house oozed sunk into his skin and the innocence which had made him in his own sense, pure, faded. Desiring to fit in he found himself wrapped up in schemes and plans which would make even his parents shudder.

What’s Happened Since?

Since leaving school, for a few years after he kept the remaining connections and vowed to return his family name back into honor. If that meant bowing down to pureblood females and smarming up to pureblood men then so be it. He was involved in a few plans which were violent, degrading and manipulating. It was only after a certain incident, which made him snap out of the charm he had been under. The horror of what he’d done, the sickness made him revile the man he had been turning into and he fled the close knit circle. He shut himself off from them and focused instead on the one thing which had been his safety blanket. Animals. He trained to become a vet, for the muggle and wizarding world and lived his life as a muggle. With saving animals, each one felt like a redemption of sorts for his actions and his compassion and care returned thrice fold. He works officially for a muggle vets, but also freelances in the wizarding world for family pets and creatures.

How Is Winter Connected to Tom Riddle?

Winter tagged along with Tom in school. He was a halfblood with an aim for greatness and a motivation to succeed. Something Winter had been trying to emulate for himself to make his parents proud. He felt wanted and respected being a part of the clique. Even if it meant doing things he at the time, had no real desire to commit. Winter was in deep with Tom and as the years progressed in school, his dedication to him coiled around him like vines, tightening and cutting with every deed. Until that one event, which shook him to the core, which made him finally put a stop to the dangerous path he was on. It went too far, he never thought it would end up the way it did. When Tom disappeared, so did Winter and he mentioned nothing to anyone about what had gone down. But it follows him even until this day. Plaguing his dreams and thoughts. And then Tom came back and Winter began to run once more. He was being better. He couldn’t go down that path again. The taste of evil however, would always remain in his mouth.

What Is Their Motivation?

Winter wants to be better. To do better. And to live the quiet life he always truly wanted. His parents aren’t in the picture, he cut them out long ago. He’s painted himself a picture of being the kind Vet with a compassionate heart and all he wants is to save animals and settle down. Tom threatens that and like an addict, Winter knows the strength of the drug Tom releases in his personality. His desire for better is motivating him in making sure Tom stays far away. Even if that means a more permanent way.

WINTER MACNAIR IS PLAYED BY ROSE.

Shadow Play

Summary: Whilst a fake was sent to the Collector, Loki kept the real Aether on Asgard. This does not change the Asgardians' encounter with Thanos and the Black Order - except in the ways that it does. AU of the start of Avengers: Infinity War from the mid-credits scene of Thor: Ragnarok

Rating: T

Pairings: Loki & Thor

Tags and warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence; Fix-It; Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies; Canon-Typical Violence; Blood and Violence; References to past trauma; Referenced suicide attempts (canonical)

You can also read on Ao3 here!

Thor’s muscles are locked, unable to look away as the Titan drops Loki’s limp body to the ground.

“No resurrections this time.”

The Titan raises his hand and the remnants of the ship – littered with the bodies of his people, with those he’d sworn to protect with his life – are hit with the force of the Power Stone. With a wave of blue Tesseract light, the Titan and his Order are gone as the ship fractures, splits apart. The monstrous vessel jumps away from them as the Statesman finally disintegrates.

And then disappears.

On the real Statesman, Loki sags beside him, catching the table to support himself.

“Don’t,” Loki says before Thor can do or say anything. “You should tell your people we’re safe.” He swallows, heaves a breath, manages to continue: “For the moment. We need to get to Earth. Establish New Asgard, make sure they’re safe. And be ready for the war that’s coming.”

“Loki –”

“Later.” Loki finally looks at him. “You can say it all later. Just – go and be King now.”

Thor puts his hand on Loki’s slumped shoulder. He doesn’t know what to say.

“You’ll be here? When I’ve spoken to them?”

Loki’s eyes close, and it almost feels like he leans away from Thor.

“Yes. Yes, I’ll be here.”

 The enormous ship loomed before them. Thor thought he heard Loki swallow. He grasped at words.

Loki spoke first. A soft, rasping voice: “Tell them to cut the engines.”

“What?”

“Tell them to cut the engines,” he repeated, finally tearing his eyes from the hideous vessel to look at him. His eyes were wild, and he’d paled to an almost sickly degree. “Thor, I don’t have time to explain. You have to trust me. Please. Make them cut the engines.”

There was an aching chasm between them still, but Thor saw his brother; it was a rare moment where, silently, Loki was reaching across that chasm to him. Thor seized the comm and gave the order.

The former gladiator’s confusion crackled over the line. “What do you –”

“I said. Cut. The. Engines. Now,” he repeated tersely, eyes fixed on Loki.

Loki was facing the ship through the glass. As the Statesman went silent, his eyes closed and he drew a breath. And then from all around him there was a glow. Not the usual glow of Loki’s seidr, not the familiar green, but...

“Loki, no!”

“Ssh!” Loki hissed back, eyes snapping open. His eyes were black, consumed by the Aether. The aura around him glowed that horribly familiar dark red, the glow that ought not to have been a glow at all it was so much a thing of darkness.

For a wild, awful moment, Thor thought Loki was about to vanish, or to hand them all over, to betray them all, to betray him.

The leviathan that loomed over them blasted a beam. It hit... It hit a spot ahead of them, where they would have been had the engines not been turned off. Yet there was a ship within that beam – a ship that looked exactly like the Statesman.

“What’s going on?” It was the Valkyrie. He hadn’t even realised she’d come in, he had been so fixed on Loki.

He shook his head, helpless, indicated Loki and what could be seen through the window.

The Valkyrie swore.

“I need to see what they’re doing,” Loki said suddenly. The pitch of his voice was off, and it was gravelly, as though it pained him to talk. “You may not want to watch this part.”

With a twist of his fingers through the swirling dark aura, the window transformed, and they were seeing the inside of the Statesman. Soldiers like none he’d ever seen ripped into the ship. He watched himself – a copy of himself – blast them with lightning, and saw himself knocked aside by a blast of purple light.

Loki cursed. “He has the Power Stone.”

His fingers played through the Aether again, moving the copies of their crew like puppets. He was putting up a good fight. They were being cut down nonetheless.

Thor tore his eyes away to look at the Valkyrie. Her hand was resting on the hilt of her sword.

“Keep the people calm,” he ordered.

“Heimdall’s ahead of you. He’s gathered them in the bay in case we need to evacuate.”

“Good. Keep them ready to move. For now...”

Valkyrie nodded in Loki’s direction. “For now, he’s handling it?”

“Tell them.” As he spoke, a spray of blood hit the illusory Statesman’s floor. “Spare them the details.”

She nodded, glanced at Loki once more, and ran back to join the gathered refugees.  

What Loki played out on that copy of the Statesman wrought by the Reality Stone... Thor never could have imagined anything like it. And it was so lifelike...

Sparks crackled around his knuckles, and he had to breathe deeply through his nose to suppress the roiling storm that what he was seeing raised in the pit of his stomach.

He watched the copy of himself say, “You really are the worst, brother.” And those became the last words he said to Loki...

Thor burnt the suppressed bolt of lightning into his palm.

 He hadn’t been sure Loki would still be there, despite what he’d said. He feels guilty for that when he sees Loki there, folded into one of the ostentatious chairs with a tumbler of the spirit they’d found on the ship.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Loki says, waving the glass in the air. His tone implies he doesn’t truly care whether Thor minds or not; he is so wry, so nonchalant...

Thor has a thousand other, more pressing questions to ask, but the one that bubbles up in that moment, almost to the point of him voicing it, is when exactly that prickly armour of disdain had appeared. He’d never been like that as a child. What was it Thor had missed?

A great deal, most likely.

“Well?” Loki says over the rim of the tumbler. “Aren’t you going to let me have it?”

“Are you alright?”

Loki gives him a bemused look. “Well the vintage leaves something to be desired, but...”

“I mean the Aether, Loki.”

“The one I had your dear companions take to Knowhere was a fake, obviously.”

“It could have consumed you. Are you hurt?”

Loki lowers the glass. At length he says, “No, I’m not hurt. I spent the time you were gone learning how I could harness it. I’d been anticipating a... confrontation with Thanos for some time. I worked out how to channel the Aether through my own seidr. I can safely contain it in a pocket dimension and pop it out when needs must.”

“Who is this Thanos?”

“You heard the one called Ebony Maw’s little spiel.” Loki’s stillness, his movements, his words, his silences... everything about him has the quality of a knife’s edge.

“He was the one who sent you to attack Earth?”

Loki makes a vague gesture with the tumbler. “Something like that.”

“Were you one of the... what did he call them? The Children of Thanos?”

“What do you think?”

He may as well still be consumed by the Aether he is so darkly unreadable.

Thor lowers himself into the other chair. “I think they sound like a cult. That’s not like you.”

Loki makes a bitter sound in the back of his throat and drains the glass. He pours himself another and slides the bottle across the table to Thor.

“Too much a megalomaniac to serve, eh,” Loki says to his drink.

“Loki, what did –”

“Can we just skip to the part where you berate me for endangering everyone with my reckless power lust by retaining two Infinity Stones on my person?”

“I – berate you?”

“Surely you’re itching to.”

“No!”

Loki raises a mocking brow. “Oh, come on. It was reckless, selfish, a damning and yet utterly typical indication of my lack of care for anyone but myself and my continuing, indeed truly ingrained criminality.”

“No one else was thinking about the risks with the Infinity Stones. What would have happened, if the Tesseract had been left on Asgard when it was destroyed?”

Loki sighs. He speaks almost reluctantly. “There’s no knowing for certain. My supposition is that it would have opened a wormhole so big it would have swallowed all nine realms.”

“And that fake Aether on Knowhere, that will buy us some time?”

“Some. It was... a challenge to forge convincingly. It should generate illusions but not do anything tangible. That seemed... safest.”

���And you gave him a fake Tesseract too?”

“A considerably inferior fake. I used the real Tesseract for their grand finale, but he’ll realise very soon that it’s not doing what he wants it to. So we need to get away.”

“We should be prepared to face him again?”

“We need to get to Earth. There are two more Infinity Stones there. We can set your people up as safely as possible, and then... well, what you’ve been preparing for all your life.”

“A war, you mean?”

“Yes. Finally your chance to wipe out monsters.”

Thor lays a hand on his shoulder. Loki tenses.

“Loki...” Thor hunts for words. “Asgard is your people too. It’s because of you that that,” he gestures to the window, “didn’t really happen to us.”

“It’s also because of me that it nearly did.”

“But you prevented it.”

“Self-preservation.”

It takes Thor a moment to push the words out. Finally, he says, “And will you continue to... self-preserve?”

Loki barks a dry laugh. “Are you asking for advanced warning of my betraying you?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“On the Bifrost, and on Svartalfheim...”

Loki puts his tumbler down very slowly and carefully. “What are you implying?”

“I don’t want to lose you, Loki.”

He makes a derisive noise in the back of his throat. “You have a very strange way of demonstrating such.”

“I know I’ve... I’m sorry.”

Loki determinedly does not look at him.

“Selfishly, I want you fighting at my side in... whatever we’re going into. But if this Thanos has some sort of vendetta against you...”

“There’s nowhere I can hide.”

At length, he meets Thor’s eye. And it is then that Thor knows. Had they really faced Thanos, Loki would have subjected himself to the same fate as his simulation: his life for as many who could be spared as possible.

“We’ll fight together, then.”

“Your Avengers will clap me in irons on sight.”

“They can try,” Thor says.

Loki rolls his eyes. “And you’re going to oppose them, are you? In a time when you need their full support? You saw what we’d be up against.”

“It won’t be me alone. All of Asgard will stand with you.”

The look Loki gives him is painful: like he is searching for deception in what Thor said. But at last he purses his lips and gripes, “Mad, the lot of you.”

But he doesn’t argue.

No Good // Willard Russell Part One

Part two here

Part three here

Hello everyone! Ever since reading ‘The Devil All The Time’ I’ve had numerous Willard thoughts that I noted down which created this, and with the movie being released I thought I’d publish it :) I’d love to know everyone’s thoughts, and I always appreciate you all taking time to read my works and love reading your responses. It truly means so much to me <3.

WARNINGS: 18+ mature language, mentions of death, alcohol, smoking and violence.

Lillian Brown couldn’t remember how old she was the night her parents died. It was all a blur; a memory she intended to keep repressed. What she could recall was that two days after the accident her mother’s sister, Barbara, came to Lil’s house, packed her a small bag and bundled her into her Uncle Al’s car for the hours journey to knockemstiff, a small town that Lil had never felt she could call home. 

But that was two decades ago; and since then she had a whole lot to be thankful for. Her Aunt and Uncle, who themselves were childless, raised Lil as if she were their own, and now she worked in her Uncle Al’s bar. It was a small place with mould lining the walls that stunk of piss and stale booze; but it was a paycheck at the end of the month, and allowed Lil to be surrounded by the only family she had left.

Lil knew she wasn’t like her Aunt Barb; she was quiet, too quiet. The type of quiet that men in the bar took advantage of, leering at her after they’d had a few beers, their sleazy eyes raking up and down her as they, not so quietly, announced what they’d like to do to her once her shift ended. Lil wished she had the courage to challenge these men like her Aunt Barb had taught her, but to no avail, she hated making a fuss.

“That’s exactly your problem, missy.” Her Aunt Barb would often tell her. “You got too much of your mother in you.”

From Lil’s position behind the bar on a Wednesday evening she could see a man sat in a corner booth; but this particular man didn’t have the look of the others who came to drink at Al’s Bar. She squinted to get a better look at him, her eyes struggling to adjust to the dusky lighting in the room. From what she could gather, the man couldn't be any older than his late twenties; his cheekbones were almost too perfectly sculpted, and his hair was still thick, and a few strands were curled over his forehead as he studied the tumbler of Southern Comfort on the table before him. Lil hadn’t been specifically counting the number of drinks he’d consumed, but she calculated in the hour he’d been in Al’s, he was damn near close to polishing off the whole bottle of liqueur that was sat behind the bar. His stare was one of the coldest Lil had ever seen, there was nothing in his eyes; no glimmer of hope or happiness, instead he seemed to be sheltering a deep, unbridled rage of some kind.

She watched as he pulled the glass up to his dry lips and swigged the whole amount, letting it sit in his cheeks for a few seconds before gulping and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He slammed the glass back onto the table; but his gaze stayed on the glass. Absentmindedly he began to twirl around the ring on the fourth finger of his left hand, his lips pursing tighter and tighter with each small twirl. 

“Honey, don’t even think about it.” Lil whipped around to see her aunt Barb stood beside her, her right eyebrow was raised and her arms were crossed as she examined the girl stood before her.

“No I wasn’t.. I was just looking, Aunt Barb, that’s all.” Lil sighed and reached for the old cloth under the bar and began to wipe down the sticky bear spills that stained the old wood.

“Well don’t, sweetie. Take it from me, Willard Russell is damaged goods. Ain’t nothin’ good nor right about that man.” Barb hushed her voice slightly, for she was all too wary of the reputation Willard’s temper had gained him.

Lil sighed once more. 

“I mean it. He ain’t even go to church no more, just into the woods to kneel at some stinkin’ prayer log he made before his wife passed. It’s his son I feel most sorry for.” Barb whispered, making sure to take a quick glance at Willard to ensure he was out of ear range. Lil’s Aunt was a God fearing woman; she never missed a Sunday service, not even when Al came down with a bad fever a few months back. Nevertheless, she was a sucker for the town gossip, especially where the Russell’s were concerned.

“His son?” There was a sense of shock in Lil’s tone, this hard-eyed man who could stomach a whole bottle of Southern Comfort in just over an hour was the last person she was expecting to be a father.

“Mhm, after the.. incident with Willard he moved in with his grandmother in Coal Creek, Lord knows she’s the only one who could give the poor boy a half decent upbringing.” Lil’s Aunt tutted and shook her head slightly as she remembered the sleepless nights she’d had from Willard and the small boy’s prayers when Charlotte was sick, and the rumoured state Arvin had found his father in in the woods a few days after her passing.

Before Lil was able to further question her Aunt, she heard someone loudly clear their throat, and a glass clang on the bar, a few droplets of whatever was left in the glass sprinkled onto the surface she had just seen. She was about to curse when her eyes flicked up to see that the man was Willard Russell.

Lil found herself unable to speak to the man, her throat felt raw as if she hadn’t drank for a whole day. Willard was leant against the bar, propping himself up with his elbow which allowed Lil to see how huge the man was. He was slender with long limbs, particularly his legs, but she could see that he had some meat on his arms and a few scrapes on his knuckles.

“Somethin’ bothering you, girl?” Willard was unnerved by this girl he had never seen before staring him down as if he were some kind of prey, he just wanted his damned drink in peace. He’d tuned into the whispers around him whenever he walked into any sort of social joint in town, the stares he got and the raised eyebrows; his tolerance with these people was beginning to wear thin.

“No, sir. My apologies, what can I get you?” The girl smiled; but it wasn’t a real smile. The corners of her mouth forcibly tugged upwards as she struggled to make eye contact with the man on the other side of the bar; Willard knew she was intimidated.

Good. About time some of motherfuckers learned some respect.

“Beer, don’t care which.” His voice was deep, deeper than Lil was expecting, and it was laced with a type of pain she recognised; grief. Willard reached into his shirt pocked and produced a cigarette, rubbing the butt of it against his bottom lip before settling it into the left corner in his mouth.

By the time Lil had cracked the top off of Willard’s beer and handed it to him he was halfway through his cigarette, studying her as she removed the tumbler he was previously drinking from and wiped down the bar. From the way she relentlessly scrubbed at the stains on the rotting wood he deduced she was new, and that she sure as hell wasn’t going to last much longer in town; not from the way some of the sons of bitches in the booths were looking at her.

Once Willard had finished his beer he slowly rose to his feet, the large amount of alcohol he had consumed in the small amount of time was beginning to rise to his head; he needed to find a place to sleep. He dug his hand deep into the pocket of his brown slacks until he managed to produce his wallet. Willard didn’t care to ask how much his bill was, and the meek little barmaid sure as hell wasn’t about to challenge him.

Lil watched as Willard’s bony fingers pulled out whatever crumpled dollar notes were left in his wallet and threw them onto the bar in front of her, which she was damn sure wasn’t proportionate to the amount he’d drank. Nevertheless, she picked up the money and flashed a small smile at the tall man, which he ignored as he began to stumble his way out of the bar, knocking over a barstool as he went.

“Good riddance.” Barb muttered under her breath once Willard had finally managed to stagger his way out of the bar. That man gave her the shivers; there was no life left in his eyes, not since Charlotte passed, and he only seemed to emanate darkness. 

She didn’t like the way she had caught her niece looking at Willard. Lil was naïve, too soft for the town of knockemstiff, and Barb would be damned before she let her kin become involved with a man like Willard. 

Tags: @roman-cek @lucifer-reads @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @ill-skillsgard @skrsgardspam @theskarsgardcult @bskarsgardlove92 @dreamtherapy

If anyone wants to be added/removed, let me know :)

I just found read your crossroads fic over on Ao3, and damn sweetheart, I am in LOVE with this classy mob styled version of Overhaul you have going on. The smut in that last chapter was abso-fucking-lutely to die for! But I really need to know something about his character in this story. He was obviously a virgin, but r there any specific kinks he’s been thinking about or planning on trying with her?

*blush* THANK YOU!!!  You can blame my good friend and favorite Kai fanfic author @inorganicone2230 They’re the one that spurred me into having the idea for this fic and then (like they’ve done with all my bnha fics) encouraged me to write it and brainstormed with me.

Yes, Kai was a virgin. Though his skill level might test some folks suspension of disbelief (something I try not to do too much in my fics, even though I write mostly fantasy).

Kai’s kinks in this fic might be fairly tame by our standards.  But it is a 1920′s era au fic.  Don’t really know if they’re kinks; but Kai would love to spank Maya then bend her over his desk and…

...so I don’t know if you saw my post.  But I decided to do a short smutty scenario thanks/inspired by this ask.  So here you go.  Sorry it’s so short.  Between having my ‘poison juice’ (aka infusion) last Friday and unexpected visitors yesterday and the day before I’ve been kinda wiped.

FYI this little scene would take place after things settled a bit from the last and (eventual) upcoming chapter.

WARNINGS: spanking, non-con, creampie, cockwarming;  Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.  For a full list of story tags please check the fics AO3 (link to that at the top of my tumblrs homepage).

Promised Pleasure

Removing his dust mask as Maya entered his office, Kai frowned at her attire. “That’s not what I told you to wear today.”

Maya’s shoulders tensed.  She foolishly hadn’t expected her choice of clothes to be an issue.  She should've known better.  Still, her pride wouldn’t let her apologize.  And she knew Kai would sniff out any lie.

Deciding a gently put truth was best, she stepped further in his office.  “I felt like wearing this.”

Kai’s golden eyes narrowed.  She was testing boundaries again.  And her testing was trying his temper.  “Close the door please, my Dear.”

Despite the politeness of the ask, a shiver ran up Maya’s spine.  Mouth suddenly dry, she turned and closed the door with a shaky hand.

“Lock it.”  Kai ordered, voice taking on a twinge of sharpness.  He had called her in here hoping for a nice diversion.  But with his beautiful girl acting so spiteful he would have to resign himself to giving her a lesson.

Maya’s hand paused on the door.  The hair on the back of her neck prickled.

“Maya. Lock the door, Darling.  You know how I dislike repeating myself.”

The slow scrape of the lock setting in place deafened Maya to everything but her ragged breathing and thundering heart.  She didn’t hear Kai’s next words.  So when she turned back around, it was to find him looking more annoyed then ever.

Smothering her nerves, Maya met Kai’s piercing gaze head on.  “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”

Unlacing his fingers, Kai sat back.  “I told you to come here.  This is the second time I’ve had to repeat myself.  I won’t do so again.”

Maya shuffled hesitantly toward Kai’s desk.

Kai pushed back and slightly turned the chair he was sitting in.  “This side.  Come around near me.”

She moved around the desk, stopping a couple paces from his spread legs. Skin prickling under the caress of his roving gaze, her breath caught glimpsing the bulge in his pants.

At least Kai always brought her pleasure.  Unlike the disgusting landlord who had used her and left without care or glance after.  Kai always made her feel special.  Beautiful.  Loved.  In those moments of heated bliss she lost herself and forgot she was doing this solely for justice for her brother.  Basking in Kai’s twisted affection and the delightful pleasure he gave she’d start to believe she truly cared for him in return.  That they could make something of this.  Possibly enter a real relationship that wouldn’t end when he did as he promised and saw those who killed her brother put down.

Maya stared at the tailored suit jacket hanging over the back of Kai’s chair.  Anything to avoid seeing the twitching cock in his pants.

“Why don’t you serve me some water and unbutton my vest for me, Sweetheart.”

It wasn’t a question, or even a suggestion.  Maya knew well enough it was an order.  But with Kai’s honeyed tone and adoring gaze it was easy to trick her mind into believing there would be no consequences for disobedience.

Turning over a heavy tumbler that sat on a silver tray at the end of his desk, she took up the crystal carafe and poured.  Setting the glass in front of him, her fidgeting hands fell to her side, smoothing her skirt.

Her delay in following his second commend had Kai rising to his feet. Maya stepped back even as she hurriedly reached for his vest, seeking to rectify the offense.  Kai grabbed her wrist before she touched him.

Maya grimaced at the too tight grip.  “I’m sorry.  I--”

Kai pulled her roughly against him.  Maya stumbled, heels catching on the plush area rug.  She fell against his chest.  His expensive cologne assaulted her nose.  She loved the smell but hated smelling it as she only got a whiff when Kai had her in his space.

Suddenly gentle, Kai’s strong arms steadied her.  “Careful, Sweetheart. We don’t want you hurting yourself.”  He caressed her cheek, brushing the hair out of her face with a tenderness that didn’t match the blazing fire in his amber eyes.

Maya held perfectly still, struggling not to flinch. The way Kai flipped from loving and sweet to caustic and hurtful on a penny dime was what frightened her most about him.

Smiling, Kai’s head dipped.  “You’re so beautiful, Darling.  So soft and beautiful.”

His tender lips graced hers in a chaste kiss.  Maya’s lashes fluttered closed accepting the kiss, thinking she had escaped his anger.  Her body jerked at a sudden tug.  The sound of something ripping rang out in the room.  A sudden cold strike of air hit her front torso pebbling her nipples.

Maya’s eyes shot open with a gasping cry.  Kai had rent her blouse and camisole open.

“If you refuse to wear what I tell you to.  Maybe you should be left with nothing to wear at all.”

“Kai… I’m--”

Kai cupped her cheek.  “I don’t want to hear it, Sweetheart.  You apologize and apologize but keep on going astray from the clear, defined rules I’ve set.  My love for you has seen me be more than patient.  But I’m afraid my patience has come to an end.”

Maya stumbled again, her world spinning as she was quickly turned and shoved down against the desk.  The glass of water she served slid off the surface and fell to the floor.  It’s crash accentuated Maya’s surprised cry.  Mind reeling, she didn’t feel the splash of water soak her hose.

“Ka—ah!” She broke off with a scream, senses assaulted by the sound of her tearing skirt.  The cold hard desk against her breast and torso and Kai’s painful grip on the back of her neck.  Her nose burned, eyes watering from the lingering smell cleaner that clung to the polished surface.

Hand still holding her down, Kai dropped her ruined skirt.  His freed hand slid over the silky slip she worn.  So soft, he mused.  But not anywhere as soft as the flesh beneath.  That covering was pulled down along with her panties.

“Kai! What are you--”  Maya broke off with another shouted cry.

The crack of his hand hitting her ass echoed about the room.  Maya’s back arched at the blooming fire but was roughly pushed back down against the desk.

“Stay, my Love.  You wouldn’t want to upset me further and earn yourself another lesson after this.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, Maya tried to look back at him.  For a moment she swore she saw a horrid bird-like beast in place of her handsome tormentor.  But the monstrous vision was gone quicker than she could blink.

“Le—le—lesson?” She stammered.

“For continually testing your bounds.”  Kai leaned forward, low rasp tickling her ear.  “I’m afraid this will hurt, my Dear.  But know, that it will hurt me to do it more than it’ll hurt you.”

Ass still stinging from the first spank Maya doubted that.  By the third strike she was certain Kai enjoyed it and was glad for the chance to discipline her supposed disobedience.  Confirmation of his delight came when he paused after the fourth hit and ran a hand over her blazing butt-cheeks.

Kai’s fingers traced the red marks, trailing over the rising welts.  He loved Maya’s perfect, soft skin.  But there was a possessive pride in seeing her flesh temporarily marred by the work of his hand.  It sparked something primal in him, turning his tender caress into a rough, digging grope.  She was beautiful, his beloved.  A perfect little darling that would fit so well beside him in the new wholesome world he was working to usher in.  Or at least she would be once she learned to listen and obey without hesitance or question.

No one but him could touch her.  Certainly no one else was allowed to see her in such a weakened and debauched state.  Kai growled at the thought, fingers digging into the meat of her ass.  He would gouge the persons eyes out.  Cut out their tongue, and break their knees and fingers.  Then grant them a slow, painful death for having seen his darling like this.  Because this…  His other hand loosened and trailed down her neck, slinking around her side to cup her breast, reveling in the weight as she lifted a bit thinking they were done.   ...this was for him, and him alone.   His throbbing dick ground against her raw ass.

Maya’s lips pressed together between clenched teeth, biting back a cry at the burning pain.  Halfway into righting herself her back bumped Kai’s chest.

Weight rested on his hand planted to her side on the desk, Kai’s chin hooked over her shoulder.  “Think you’ve learned your lesson, Beautiful?”

Breast heaving with a shuddering breath, Maya nodded.

“Doesn’t appear so.  You know how I prefer worded responses.”

“Yes!” Maya expelled.  “Yes.  I’ve learned my lesson.  Please, Kai. I’m sorry.  So very sorry.  It won’t ever happen again.”

Kai’s knuckles glided down her back.  Other hand gripping her hip he pulled her blistered ass against his leaking erection.  “Why don’t we test that?  Bend over, Sweetheart.”  Annoyed as he was by her hesitance, he smiled lightly.  “Either you haven’t learned your lesson.  Or liked it so much you want another.”

Before Maya could respond she was pushed and held down on the desk.  Her eyes shot wide at the resounding spank.  Fresh tears sprang from her eyes as they squeezed shut at the sharp boiling pain.  “Kai! Please!  I’m--”

Another hit landed.  Then another.

Kai stopped after the tenth.  Staring down at her trembling frame he had a moments regret.  He should have made her count.  Next time, he told himself.

He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his vest.  Amber eyes skimmed over his handy work.  Just when he thought she couldn’t be more beautiful…  Even her mix of drool and tears puddled on the desk were lovely.

Lost in the consuming tumble of dull thudding pain accentuated by sharp stinging bursts, Maya didn’t hear the jangle of Kai’s belt being undone.  She jolted at his hand slipping between her legs. Whimpering as his prodding fingers dragging through her folds.

Kai frowned at the minimal moisture.  Usually Maya got so wet for him. It wounded and upset him.  But before those emotions could take root his eyes drifted back to the pool of saliva on his desk.  His heart lightened.  Even with her punishment his darling had thought of him and his needs.  Proving she loved him as much as he loved her.

He leaned over her and kissed her tear-stained cheek.  “Thank you, my Dear.  You’re so sweet and good for me.”

Maya’s lashes fluttered.  She watched Kai’s hand trail through her drool, gathering it.

Bringing his wet hand to his freed length, Kai slathered her saliva over his shaft.  He grimaced, skin prickling with the beginnings of a inch. But soothed himself that was Maya.  She was clean.  Worthy.  His.

It’s like indirect oral, he thought with a steadying breath.  The prickling itch diminished then fully disappeared as he focused on Maya, pumping his fist to fully wet his cock.

Lining up his cock he leaned back over her and kissed her shoulder.  “You’ve had you’re punishment, Darling.  And you took it so well.  Now, let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.”

Maya’s shining eyes flicked to Kai’s.  Her brow furrowed.  Was it the light?  Or was there a dim otherworldly glow in those honeyed depths? The image of the demon Dabi’s bright burning eyes flashed through her mind.  But it vanished in an instant from the breach of Kai’s fat cock head.  She would've cried out at the burning stretch if her breath hadn’t seized in her lungs.

Kai hissed at the pull of his sensitive skin.  Maya’s drool helped. But it didn’t provide the smooth silky glide her delicious arousal did.  Wanting the discomfort over with he snapped his hips flush against her, driving his length in her tight hole.

Fully sheathed, Kai slowly exhaled.  His eyes closed, head rolling back. Taking a moment to simply feel, he basked in her velvety embrace.  This would never get old. Slipping his aching cock into Maya’s perfect, tight pussy.  Feeling her walls stretch to make room for him then flutter as they adjusted to his penetrating presence was something that consumed his thoughts; just like everything else about her.

Maya mewled the most pitiful whine beneath him and Kai lost it.  His darling was just so sweet.  So beautiful.  So helpless.

His hips pulled back and slammed right back against her.

If asked, Maya wouldn’t have been able to say if her scream was from the hard thrust or Kai’s pelvis pounding into her blazing red backside.

Her back arched, lifting her off the desk.

One hand gripping her hip, Kai’s other hand grabbed the back of Maya’s neck and shoved her back down.  Never once did his ramming thrusts stop.

The once dulling pain of Maya’s welted ass sharpened again.  Fresh tears seeped from her eyes.  Kai had lied.  He had said she had her punishment.  The pain was suppose to be over.  But every thrust was just another spank.  Until…

Kai’s feet shifted.  Angling his hips he hit that spot in her that had her seeing stars.

Pleasure mixed with the pain.  The rough scrape of his trousers zipper didn’t hurt as badly.  Even the occasional jab of his belts buckle didn’t make her want to crawl up and die.

Kai almost reached around to finger her clit.  But an idea struck him. It was scandalous.  But so was fucking his darling over his desk.  He groaned, cock twitching at the thought.  His pace sped seeking his own release without a care for hers.

Maya rocked against the desk.  Her hips started to push back against him despite the blazing pain to her ass.  A different kind of heat pooled in her belly.  But just as the coil started to tighten another warmth filled her.

Kai thrust deep inside Maya, cock coming alive.  He grunted, pushing his hips firmly against her, driving her against the desk, seeking to get even deeper as hot ropes of cum spit from his pulsing cock.

Building orgasm lost, Maya deflated atop the desk.  Her nails clawed at the polished surface, hands balling into weak fists.  Though grateful it was over, she couldn’t help but be bit bitter about Kai’s second lie.  ‘...let me remind you of my love and the pleasure I can give.’ Yes, she had felt some pleasure.  But she hadn’t gotten her full pleasure.

She waited for Kai to pull out.  When he didn’t she looked back at him.

Kai greeted her with a smug smile.  “You didn’t cum.  Did you?”

Maya’s mouth fell open.

Before she could respond, her torso was pulled up off the desk.  Heated as his skin was through his button-up shirt, Maya shivered the instant her back touched his chest.

Kai’s arms wrapped around her.  He held her firmly against him, keeping his cock snugly inside her.   His lips brushed the shell of her ear. “Did you think I forgot about my promise, Sweetheart?  I said I was going to remind you of the pleasure I can give.”

Keeping her glued against him, Kai retook his seat.  Head a whirl of confusion, Maya barely grimaced at the discomfort of his softening cock shifting inside her.  The heated pain of her abused butt numbed by her racing mind trying to figure out what Kai was doing.

Soon enough she got her answer and wished she never had.

“I’m a man of man word, my Love.  What do you say you keep me warm while I do some work?  Then I can give you that promised pleasure.”

After this, Kai might develop a breeding kink to go with spanking, rough office sex, and cokwarming.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

Thank you all for being so patient with me and the posting of this fic.  Special thanks to Anon for the ask and inspiring this one shot.  And as always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230​ for being the best fellow writer friend (and friend in general) and encouraging and brainstorming with me.  I mean it when I say I would’ve given up posting long ago if it wasn’t for your support.

What Lingers Within: One

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Mini Series

Featuring: Dean Winchester x Reader

Written for: @thisismysecrethappyplace

Prompt: Amnesia

Word Count: 1615 (This was originally a drabble)

AMAZING BETA’ing by: @itmighthavebeenintentional​

Lovely aesthetic and beta’ing by: @thoughtslikeaminefield​

Summary: Reader witnesses the impossible and is thrust into the world of monsters. Unbeknownst to her, Dean has to face the consequences of old choices. Set in season eleven.

Warnings: Trauma as a witness to a show level violent case. Angst.

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               All sound morphed into a dense absence, mere gentle rumbles around you as your thoughts spilled over the terror of the last two hours. It was over; you were safe. But that didn’t matter, because your body and mind were still processing, and the weight of the memories fought against your every rational belief. 

               Vampires were real. Stephenie Meyer was fucking right. Well, almost right; daylight barely affected them. The image of Chase, your co-worker, slumped beside the dumpster was peaceful compared to the sight of the monsters as they tore into the girl from the sandwich shop who had stepped out for a quick vape break.

               Somehow you dropped the trash and made it back inside. Sputtering it all out when Katelyn insisted you show her what you were talking about. The cops got called and that was when the real shit hit the fan. 

              They barked at you, patronizing and full of disbelief. Of course, you knew how it sounded, but the bodies told no lies. No one knew what to say to you and so they said nothing. 

              With the rest of the day’s work left for some untouchable future, you got yourself home in a fog. Suddenly trapped in a perpetual state of in-between, you crawled into bed, fully clothed and let the darkness claim you.

^*^*^

               “‘What seemed like a Halloween prank call quickly became a horrific afternoon on the Westside yesterday. Two victims found on the scene were drained of blood and covered in what could only be bite wounds. Police admit to increased drug activity in the area, but’---- yeah, they aren’t going to call it what it is. So, you wanna take it?” Sam called over his shoulder.

               “Vamps with a death wish? Hell yeah,” Dean agreed, leaning over to look at the laptop screen.

               They were on the road in less than an hour, the Impala rumbling east as Sam delved deeper. One name popped up in every report under witness, sinking his stomach. It could have been worse; it could have been in the victim box. Though he had sworn to never speak of her again, Dean needed to know what they were walking into.

               “You know maybe we should just pass on this one,” Sam offered awkwardly.

               Dean recoiled and gave Sam the side eye. “You find something else? I mean, they’re not usually this obvious, but these vamps are dropping bodies, Sam.”

               “Yeah, I know, it’s just--- look, I should’ve read more before we got on the road. But now that I have, I’m not sure this is the right case for--- you.” Sam was digging himself deeper the longer he talked.

               Dean’s eyebrows hitched. “You wanna try that again?”

               “It’s just, the only eye-witness is somebody we know, Dean,” Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

               “So--- who is it?” Dean tore his eyes from the road completely.

               Sam pursed his lips and glared at his brother. It took Dean longer to piece together than Sam thought it would, but it had been four years. With everything that Dean had been through the past few years, it shouldn’t have surprised Sam.

               “You promised,” Dean swallowed the rest of the accusation.

               “I know. I didn’t---,” Sam was cut short.

               “Yeah? Well...” Dean trailed off. With a dejected sigh, he rubbed the back of his fingers over his three-day-old stubble. “At least it isn’t an Amara thing she got dragged into.”

               Sam paused over the silver lining, noting how the engine grumbled under Dean’s heavy boot.

^*^*^

               Waking to heavy knocks on your apartment door, you resurfaced. 

               The strain from the day before faded with groggy waking actions. As you scanned your room for the time, you realized you had slept straight through into the next day. You pointedly ignored your phone; work could wait. You straightened your shirt and stumbled down the short hallway, trying to guess who could be on the other side of the door. Looking through the peephole, you were at a loss. 

              Two guys in suits stood outside. Suddenly nervous you did something wrong, you called out. “Who is it?”

               “FBI, Ms. We have some follow up questions from the incident yesterday,” the one with long hair replied. His voice was soothing, so much more so than the police at the scene. 

               The horror flooded back into your mind and you put your weight onto the doorknob to steady yourself. Your eyes closed against the onslaught. You shook your head against the rush of warmth, and took a deep breath as you pulled the door open.

               The two agents bowed their heads slightly, IDs open and eyes almost apologetic as you put on your best listening face. The scruffy one lingered in the doorway when you gestured them inside. They seemed to have a silent conversation behind your back, and you tried not to read into it, playing with your bedhead as you decided to make a pot of coffee. 

All cops liked coffee, didn’t they?

               “Nice place,” Agent Colfax, the long-haired one, complimented.

               “Thanks, I’ve only been here a few months, but I like it,” you replied, leading them to the small table in the kitchen. 

                They seemed to dwarf your minimal furniture, filling a space that you generally ignored. You remained standing as they asked their questions. Not once did they belittle you or what you saw. Despite their bulk you felt at ease, free to answer honestly. They assured you they were trained to handle this type of assailant. They didn’t confirm or deny your assumptions.

               “I think that’s all our questions for now,” Agent Colfax looked to his partner. “Unless you have anything to add, Agent Berkman?”

               The scruffy one cleared his throat; it wasn’t until then you realized that he hadn’t spoken the entire time. “You said you moved here a few months ago? Any particular reason?”

               His voice was like crunching leaves, rich and satisfying in its resonance. Confused by the change in subject you looked to the ceiling for clarity. “Honestly? I had a pretty bad break up and I guess I needed someplace I could make my own.”

               He swallowed. “Sorry to hear that.” 

               He gave you a reassuring smile, but it fell flat. That was until his green eyes held on to yours, almost like he was searching for something. They were bright and attentive, nearly hypnotic. You felt a warmth spread over your cheeks and down your neck, but it wasn’t from embarrassment; it was welcome comfort after everything you had just re-lived. You felt intensely safe.

               “Right--- thank you for your time,” Agent Colfax interrupted, breaking through what could only be described as a staring match. 

                You blushed, pulling yourself out of the trance. You showed the agents out and decidedly locked and deadbolted the door.

^*^*^

               Dean was trying to hide the way his hands were shaking as he opened the driver’s side door. Sam was watching him with something between annoyance and pity, but Dean wasn’t up for the commentary. Seeing her again after so long was like having bricks stacked in his gut while every thought in his head evaporated.

               On the way to the medical examiner’s office, Sam broke the silence. “She seems good.”

               Dean glared.

               “Other than seeing people being killed by vampires, I mean,” Sam finished.

               “Because we just left her place, I’m giving you a pass, Sammy. But mention her again and I will break your fucking nose,” Dean hissed.

               “Whoa, hey! I’m just saying she’s safe in a quiet, normal life, Dean. Isn’t that what you wanted? When you had Cas...?” Sam pressed.

               Dean hit the steering wheel. “I don’t know what I wanted, but it wasn’t this!” Dean’s eyes left the road and speared Sam to the spot.

“I wanted her out of this stuff, man. Not half-broken and alone in a new city crawling with vamps who don’t even play by the rules.”

               “So, we take care of it,” Sam eased off, head tilted and brow imploring. “She’ll be fine, Dean.”

               Dean dragged his hand down his lips. “Yeah, she better be.”

               They sat in silence the rest of the trip, rush hour slowing them down. By the time they scoped out the bodies it was dark. Working a perimeter from the crime scene slowly gave them the location of the nest, an abandoned subway station accessible through a crumbling sewer maintenance shaft. The vampires stood no chance against a revenge-fueled Dean Winchester. Sam agreed to leave the bodies, five in all, as an underground fire would cause an immediate investigation. Who knew when the skeletons would be discovered anyway.

               By the time they got back to their motel, it was too late to buy beer, which gave Dean the excuse to head out for a drink. After showering Dean suggested the hole-in-the-wall down the block. Sam reluctantly let his brother head out alone, claiming he was just going to call it a night. 

               Dean drove right past the bar and Sam watched him do it. They both knew where he was going, it was a practiced dance; build a wall but ignore the window.

               Dean sat in the Impala and stared at her apartment, he even laughed at himself for a spell. He watched the colors from her flat screen shine against the violet night, morphed by the floor length curtains. 

               She always liked a space to have a lot of natural light; she would’ve hated the bunker. That didn’t matter now. She was home safe. But being Dean, he needed to double check. 

               Flask in hand, Dean continued to pine for her the remainder of the night, lost in memories of a time when they were almost happy.

^*^*^

Tags: @flamencodiva​ @dolphincliffs​  @dontshootmespence​ @thoughtslikeaminefield​  @fangirlxwritesx67 @dawnie1988​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @foxyjwls007​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @defenderrosetyler​ @ericaprice2008​ @princessofthefandomrealm​ @wingedcatninja​​

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Read On: Chapter Two

Dearest Sympathies

Lilies are symbolic of the soul of the departed and hope of the renewal process. With the divorce looming and their fight for Camille pushing forward. There will be no turning back

Warnings: Swearing, Premonition of Death, Physical Violence

Chapter List:

Chapter 1: Enough

Chapter 2: Homeward Bound

Chapter 3: Band of Brothers

Tag list: @lorirwritesfanfic @drakewalkerfantasy @lorircreates @desireepow-1986 @liam-rhys @rafasgirl23415 @speedyoperarascalparty @rainbowsinthestorm @kingliam2019 @mom2000aggie @itslaniquelove @texaskitten30 @hopefulmoonobject @kimmiedoo5​

Patience was something that Leo became extremely well accustomed to when he had become a parent. He could wait all day for one of his daughters to crack but this seemed a little more fun. Within moments of his speech finishing, his phone vibrated in his blazer pocket, it was Isabella. “How dare you Leo!” she screeched, “I can’t believe you would do that! You told Matéo you’d call a conference tomorrow... not this evening! And why the hell did you future date the paperwork?! This does not need to be dragged out for any longer than is required” Leo lips curled upwards into a mischievous smirk, “Who tipped you off? It was only the main Cordonian news channels there...” Isabella growled, “Why the hell does that matter?! It should have been you telling me anyway!” Leo moved his phone slightly from his ear as Isabella kept screaming and cursing him out. Leo chuckled to himself pissing Isabella off even more, “If it wasn’t for fucking Maxwell calling me, I wouldn’t have known!”

Leo rolled his eyes, “That’s interesting...” he calmly replied, “Very... very interesting...” Isabella raised her brow as she wedged her spoon angrily into a vat of Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream, “Why is this interesting?! Is our marriage just a game to you?!” Leo leaned against the wall as he carefully studied those around Liam, watching as they fawned over him, “Quite the opposite kitten... I’m surprised he did call considering he said to me earlier today he hasn’t spoken with you since Nico was born...” Tucking her hair behind her ear, Isabella’s tone quickly changed; her pitch went higher as she questioned him, “No, what do you mean?! I spoke with him a few days ago?...” Leo’s heart sank, “Listen to me Kitten... don’t trust anyone right now. This conversation never happened ok? Please promise me that you’ll not repeat this to anyone?” Isabella rolled her eyes angrily, “You are seriously fucking losing it Leo!” before hanging up the phone. “Bella!” Leo angrily barked as he heard the phone beep. “Fuck!”

Rubbing his face with his hand, Leo sighed heavily attracting Liam’s attention, “Brother!” He called towards him, beckoning him forward, “Come... after that conference; you look like you could do with a drink...” As Leo moved forward into the group that included Maxwell, Drake, Olivia and Hana, Liam put his arm around his shoulder affectionately, “An evening of Bourbon, Scotch and Cigars is called for...” Leo raised his brow towards Liam, “Maybe a quieter evening... it’s not every day you get divorced. I don’t feel like much company...” Liam nodded understandingly, “Of course... sorry I...” Leo chuckled, shaking his head, “Brother you don’t need to say sorry, it’s something that happens...” Leo slowly began to smile, “I’ll just need to get a damn good lawyer, Isabella better not steal them like she stole my goddamn accountant!” Liam patted his brother’s back laughing “I’m sure that can be easily arranged...” Later that evening, Leo walked out onto the veranda from the drawing room. Setting his tumbler of bourbon onto the sandstone railing, he reached into his blazer jacket taking out a cigar and his cutter. Nipping the end, he struck his zippo, fanning the flames of the gas at the bottom to toast the foot, turning it a few times before he allowed to cigar to light. With a few gentle puffs, Leo instantly calmed by the elixir of nicotine and alcohol.

“Leo...” Liam spoke quietly as he and Drake entered the Queen Mother’s drawing room towards him on the veranda. “It’s not like you to dwell...” Leo turned and seeing Liam and Drake he smiled, “Contraire dear Brother... I just needed a distraction...” Drake looked at Leo, then to Liam confused, “What?” He exclaimed, “You’re distracting yourself with the same thing we were going to do anyway?” Leo shook his head, “No Drake...” he took a long drag of his cigar,

“I didn’t want Beaumont here...” Drake raised his brow, “But Beaumont said he hadn’t?!” Leo raised his finger towards Drake chuckling, “Young Padawan... listen and learn... I told Matéo the press conference to announce the divorce was tomorrow in order to give Isabella time to plan... Isabella called me moments after I stepped off that podium to tell me that a particular someone in your inner circle...” he pointed towards Liam, “...called to tell her that I announced it this evening... that was Maxwell Beaumont...” Liam’s eyes widened in horror, “No... I...” as Drake quietly smiled to himself, “You sneaky bastard... I knew Beaumont was a fucking snake...” Leo nodded, “He’s been in contact with her for a while... and now with the divorce in play, we can get Maxwell... and once we do... then we should have more answers...” Leo raised his glass to the two men stood in front of him, “eis igían sas...”

Isabella was miserable. Every night she scanned through all the pictures on her phone that she kept; tonight she tried to take her mind off things watching one of her favourite telenovelas, ‘Amor en la vida o la muerte’ eating as much chocolate as she could physically stomach. During the day she could be strong and independent but in the evenings, the gravity of the situation haunted her. As one of the male leads whispered into the damsels ear, “Te amaré por siempre...” Isabella screamed at the television, “Liar!!!” as tears began to tumble down her cheeks. Matéo’s husband Dima upon hearing the scream went in to check on her, “Darling...” he sat in the edge of of the bed, taking her into his embrace as Isabella put her arms around him wailing in tears, “This is all my fault!” the young Queen wailed into his shoulder, “No honey... no...” he brushed her hair with his hand gently, “Come... no man is worth those tears... That beautiful husband of yours will come to his senses eventually...” Isabella raised her head, her dark chocolate brown eyes glistened as she blinked back her tears. Her long dark eyelashes fluttered in hope as she sniffed, “You really think so?” She knew Dima would tell her the truth whether she liked it or not - may that have been her love life or texting her to start doing squats as her ass looked flat as she walked a televised red carpet for a gala dinner. He was brutal but she appreciated the honesty. Dima was the company she needed right now, he was carefree and had no political gain or wealth from the Laurentian Queen’s pain; Dima and his Russian oligarch family has more wealth than the Laurentian and Cordonian kingdoms combined for him to care.

Her brother in law smiled sweetly to her, “You know he adores you, no?... This makes me...” Dima began to sigh, “...I... I shouldn’t...” Isabella leaned forward, tilting her head slightly, “Please... I welcome any counsel right now...” Dima waited for a second, running his tongue across his teeth as he thought, “Bella, something is not right y’know? I spoke with Matéo before his flight. He said things felt a little weird when he met Leo... he was being obstructive for no reason...” Isabella’s brow raised slightly remembering the conversation she had with him today, ‘This conversation never happened...’ and why Maxwell lied to him ran through her head. Nodding, Isabella agreed, “Yeah... it does seem...” she began to trail off as the cogs in her head began to turn, “a little off...” It had dawned on her, there was a lot more at play here than a simple ending of their marriage but why was Leo being so cagey? “How about this...” Dima began to smile as he popped open a bottle of champagne, handing the petite monarch a glass, “After this... we get a yacht like the old days, you know we look fabulous with a tan... and window shop to look at the nice boys...hmm?” Isabella took a sip of her champagne before biting down on her lip giggling, “I’ve never seen you with a real tan before...” Dima pouted his lips jokingly, “You’re lucky you’re gorgeous...” Isabella smiled as she rested her head onto Dima‘s shoulder giggling, “You’re such a dick but I love you and... thank you...”

“So what’s the plan...” Drake wearily rubbed his dark stubble, as he, Liam and Leo sat huddled around an open bottle of whiskey. Liam was deep in thought as Leo interjected, “We need to be careful, we need the element of surprise...” Liam nodded in agreement, “We can’t go looking for Maxwell... we need to get Maxwell to come to us...” Liam’s steel blue eyes darted between Leo and Drake, “We can’t allow ourselves to show complacency right now; Riley and Sienna must not know...” Drake leaned forward, his dark eyes narrowing, “What about Isabella?” Leo ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair, “Isabella and the kids will be ok, her Head of Security will make sure of that, Beaumont’s family - he wouldn’t attempt...” sighing heavily, Leo turned to Liam, “It’s Sienna I’m worried about... She’s always been so outgoing...” Liam lowered his head, his shoulders dropping, “Yeah... she hasn’t been the same... Camille was her world...” Drake patted Liam’s shoulder looking at Leo, “and yours... we’ve gotten so much further in the last few days than in months...” Leo raised his brow as he stared directly at Drake, “Liam, why don’t you and Sienna go to Valtoria for a few days? Drake and I can do the necessaries...” Thinking of the times where Maxwell and Bertrand made out they were on his side, letting Liam and Sienna FaceTime with Camille and then giving updates only rubbed salt in a gaping wound. This was something that Liam couldn’t nor wouldn’t overlook. They’ve messed with his family for the last time. Raising his head angrily, his eyes burned with the deepest hatred that he found in his soul. Teeth clenched, Liam was seething, “No! I will torture him to an inch of his fucking life - and that will be only a scratch on the pain that Sienna and I have endured every second of every day! When I get my hands on Barthemely....” Leo had a mischievous glint in his eye as he menacingly smiled knowing Liam had finally broken. It took a lot for Liam’s kindness to be overshadowed; a lot from him to be driven to despair and as his anger had finally consumed him, Leo nodded, “It’s time to prepare...”

Isabella closed her eyes the next morning, holding her breath as she walked through the parlour. Each step was like a drill going off in her brain. She was so hungover, biting down on her lip trying to distract herself from the flower bouquets that lined the Palace entrance, “What...” she slowly began to turn a shade of green, her brow raising as she questioned Jimena, “What the hell is all of this?!” The Queen’s most trusted friend began to smile, her grin made Isabella slightly uncomfortable as she exclaimed, “Now the world knows about your d-i-v...” Isabella sighed heavily as she rolled her eyes, “Yes... and?” Isabella looked at some of the notes that were attached. “My bed isn’t even cold yet...” she clicked her tongue but her interest was quipped as she noticed a particular bouquet filled with perfect powder white lilies. Lilies were not exactly known to be good omens in Laurentia. They were funeral flowers and never were to be presented otherwise. Her eyes narrowed as she opened the envelope hesitantly, her eyes immediately were drawn to the font, ‘Dearest Sympathies on the death of your husband...’ She dropped the card immediately screaming, “Where did these come from?!” Turning to Jimena, her eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights, the petite brunette was terrified, “Jimena?!” Isabella screeched wanting answers. Jimena shrugged her shoulders, “They were delivered here earlier this morning... what is wrong with you?! You should be flattered you have so many admirers...” Jimena walked over as Isabella stood shaking picking up the card. Her dark eyes rolled to the left towards Isabella as she placed her hand over her mouth, “Oh my goodness...” Isabella shook her head, “Get these out of my home...” Jimena tried to smile, “It could have been a genuine mistake?” The young Monarch’s almond shaped, dark chocolate brown eyes narrowed and with her teeth clenched she barked, “Do I need to repeat myself, burn it all! No! No!” Maybe Leo wasn’t losing it after all.

Drifting / Chpt. 1

A suitcase emoji. Something so small and seemingly insignificant to anyone else sends your entire world crashing down onto its head when it appears on screen. You’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and now that it’s here, your heart thrums violently with anticipation and dread. This will simultaneously be the best and worst moment of your life.

This fic is based on the series Run, and as always, this can be found up on AO3.

Warnings: Infidelity, Panic Attacks / Generalized Anxiety Template credit: monetscanvas

The soft clatter of silverware sounds from all around the seventies-inspired room of Barclay Prime, the afternoon sunlight streaming in through the windows to bounce off of glass tumblers, the light reflecting off onto the walls and seats. You’re deep into the middle of a conversation with your publicist, who’s seated across from you in a chic, forest green armchair. The topic at hand is your ‘latest and greatest’ novel. “Have you given any more thought into Jerry’s revisions,” asks Nora as she slices the sharpened edge of her knife into her steak, eyes focused on the task at hand rather than at you.

Your head shakes from side to side, even in spite of the fact that her attention is elsewhere. “No.” When her gaze does finally lift, she finds you nursing your glass of sazerac. She looks less than impressed with your response, and when she sets down her fork and knife with a heavy sigh, all you can do is shrug, smiling sheepishly from overtop the rim of the glass. “I just don’t like the revisions,” you say plainly before taking another sip of your drink, feeling the burn of it as it slides down your throat. “I think they’re unnecessary.”

How many times had the two of you been down this road? You respect Jerry, sure, but these edits were not something that you are willing to budge on, not now. Not this time. Unlike your last book, this one had been more real, more substantial, and as much as you’ve added your own little embellishments to make things more interesting, you aren’t keen to allow anyone else to make changes to the story. But even still, Nora isn’t about to let things go that easily. She does know how to get a book to sell, after all.

She opens her mouth to speak, but when she does, your phone buzzes atop the marble tabletop, the sound drawing both of your attention to the mobile device. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, brows furrowing when you see the name that pops up onto the screen. ‘Charlie’ it reads in bold letters, and though the name means nothing to Nora, it means everything to you. It’s a name belonging to someone you haven’t heard from in years, so to see it now, well, it can only mean one thing. Nora’s already begun to go off on one of her tangents again, this time the focus on you and your unwillingness to relent to the edits, but her words are nothing but background noise to you now as you lift your phone and swipe the screen with a shaky finger to open it and reveal the message. A suitcase emoji. Something so small and seemingly insignificant to anyone else sends your entire world crashing down onto its head when it appears on screen. You’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and now that it’s here, your heart thrums violently with anticipation and dread.

“Are you okay?” Nora’s voice finally breaks through to capture your attention. Your panicked gaze lifts to find her, and the look of concern is evident on your face. You nod in spite of feeling the sick feeling that’s washing over you now.

“Yes. Yes, I’m okay. I, uh, I’m so sorry, I just need to, uh . . .” Scooting back up out of your chair, you rise up onto your feet and clutch your phone in your hand, your other hand slinging the strap of your purse onto your shoulder. “Can we reschedule? I’m sorry.”

Nora’s left visibly confused as you step away from the table without so much as an explanation, and as you move towards the entrance, you can hear her call out for you, pleading with you to wait. Your free hand pushes against the door, swinging it open as you step out into the cool spring air, stopping only long enough to unlock your phone’s screen again, taking a moment to stare down at the message. With your heart hammering in your chest, and your fingers shaking to an uncontrollable degree, you send back a single emoji in response: the plane.

Slipping your phone into the back pocket of your jeans, you step further out onto the sidewalk and turn to stride down the block in the direction of Suburban Station. You know that if you’re going to do this, you don’t have the time to afforded to you to make your way back to your apartment to grab your belongings. This has to be done and it has to be done now.

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Philadelphia International Airport is crowded for a Sunday evening, shockingly so, but even still, you manage to make your way to the Delta ticket counter much faster than you’d anticipated given the sheer size of the line. “I need a ticket,” you say, fishing out your wallet and pulling out your credit card in anticipation of your purchase.

“To which location?” The woman behind the counter watches you, waiting expectantly as you hesitate, and for a fleeting moment, you wonder if you’ll go through with it.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you slide your card across the counter towards her. “Seattle, please. One way.”

You can tell now that she’s taking in the sight of you and your lack of baggage. She, herself, hesitates a moment before giving you a nod and typing the information into the system. “The next available flight to Seattle is in thirty minutes.” It’s a question more so than a statement, and she falls silent, waiting for your nod of approval, which you give her, before she takes your card and follows through with the transaction.

With the card and ticket now handed off to you, you thank her and turn to make the mad dash through security and to the gate before the flight takes off.

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You’re a winded mess by the time you make it to the gate just as the attendant is making moves to close the door. “Wait! Wait, please!” Your hand is raised as you shout, waving the man down to bring his attention to you when he turns to find the source of the hollering. By some semblance of a miracle, you’ve made it just before he’s closed the door, which means you’ve managed to land yourself on that flight. The realization makes your heart flutter, because you know what will be waiting for you in Seattle.

Once your ticket’s been scanned, you hustle down the length of the walkway until you’re greeted by the flight attendants who graciously point you in the direction of your seat. Quickly settling into the aisle seat, you buckle yourself in and brace yourself for what will be the longest ride of your life. In six hours, you’ll be coming face to face with Charlie for the first time in years.

— — — — —

Tagging my fellow Charlie lovers!

@ellelaconiwrites​, @little-laamb​, @holacherrycola90​, @prncess91​, @candycanes19, @gurl-ly, @duty-isnt-always-honour, @pretty-wiseee, @klauscarolove​

If you’d like to be added to the tag list, give me a shout!