#I meant to have this whole fic out by today but I pulled a canary Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[justkillingthyme]

Flora has lunch with the Laytons

[honestlyfrance]

SAMBUCKY BOOKMARKS

it’s fic yeah friday over at @fuckyeahsambucky​​​ so i wanna do a lil something something for the fandom :) check out my #fic rec tag for more! 

enjoy the more than 50 fics listed here :) be careful of the tags!

I Am Trying to Break Your Heart by Lunar_Pull

Today is the day that Steve received an invitation to the love of his life’s wedding.

Philopatry by Areiton

"I want to be safe," he says. "But I'm not." "Then why come here? Why put me at risk?" Something flickers in his eyes, little boy lost and utterly cold, and it makes Sam want to give the dude a hug and also pull his sidearm. "I have no reason to hurt you," Winter says. "I don't want to hurt you," Bucky adds, earnestly.

farmhouse by Tazmaster

"You know, I think I'd want a farmhouse."

"A what?" Sam turns to look at him, slightly annoyed. This was the first thing Bucky has said in the past hour and a half they've been cramped in this god forsaken car. He had a knack for impulsively voicing his dumb thoughts at the worst times, but whenever you wanted to know what was actually going on in that head of his, he'd never say.

They were staking out the front gate of a large mansion, very much not a farmhouse. It was mind numbingly boring, being stuck in a beetle with absolutely nothing else to do than stare at the gaudy gates of some rich asshole.

"A farmhouse," Bucky repeats nonchalantly, "If we ever get out of this business, or you know, live long enough to retire maybe--- I want a farmhouse. With a lot of animals."

---

Bucky keeps talking about a farmhouse and it drives Sam crazy, that is until he finally asks why.

Employee Discount by bopeep for queenmab_scherzo

Sam Wilson doesn't love working in a store that makes him wear vanity-sized polos and breathe in clouds of men's cologne like the worst kind of GQ aromatherapy, but the view from his cash register across the mall to the Hot Topic and the sullen Dark Prince of Wallet Chains he loves to hate may just beat the minimum wage blues.

In warm water, swimming down by targaryen_melodrama

“Why are you hiding?””Tired.”Bucky raises an eyebrow. “So you decided to swim.”“So I decided to be alone.”Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “I can go, if you want.”It’s the last thing Sam wants.

I figured out what the slashes mean by Teaismycoffee

Sam, Steve and Bucky are all living together in a safe house. Bucky and Sam discover fan fiction written about them. Steve doesn't approve. Sam and Bucky are really into secretly reading fan fiction together, or maybe it isn't the fan fiction part they are really into.

Chicken Soup for the Soul by bioloyg

“S’not my bed time,” Sam says as he buries his face in Bucky’s upper arm. Bucky laughs. “Tough. You’re sick.” Sam lets out a loan groan and says, “But my bed is cold. I was so warm, why’d you move me?” “Because your neck would’ve hated you if I didn’t.” He tries not to be so amused by how fussy Sam is when he’s both sick and half-asleep. It’s cute. ~ A fic wherein Bucky takes care of a sick Sam.

two nights in L.A. by CapnWinghead

Bucky kindly volunteered Sam to be a groomsman for Scott’s upcoming wedding. Of course, that meant Sam and Bucky had to go to the bachelor party.

at the end of the war (what's mine is yours) by notcaycepollard

They don't talk about it: that's how it works.

I'd Like That by honestlydarkprincess

Sam has been up for over 24 hours and has been dreaming about his Coffee Caramel Fudge non-dairy ice cream since about the 18-hour mark. When he gets to the store, there's only one carton of it left and, unfortunately for the guy innocently holding said carton, Sam's not leaving without it.

Or, the one where Sam is sleep deprived, yells at a cute guy, and gets both ice cream and a phone number out of it.

Ready, Set, Date! by bioloyg

Bucky wants to sleep, Natasha wants to find him a date for Steve's wedding (so he'll leave her alone), and Sam is the best thing about this whole speed dating disaster. But, Sam's not in the speed date rotations - he's at a different table weathering through dates just like Bucky is. ~ "Three dates in, Bucky decides he has made one of the worst decisions in all of his life by coming here. His first date had been an attractive enough man by the name of Greg. He introduces himself as “The Big G,” to which Sam laughs at in the middle of introducing himself to his own date. Greg likes to talk about cars a lot, which is fine. Bucky also likes cars. The only problem is that Greg’s love for cars borders on… erotic."

We'll rise up free and easy by Sarsaparilla, woofgender

Steve and Natasha are away on a mission when Sam receives intel about the Winter Soldier’s location. When he follows the lead, Sam finds something unexpected—but despite his initial impression, it’s certainly not all bad. (Post-CATWS, not AOU- or CACW-compliant.)

__________ "'Jesus Christ,' Sam said, 'Are you planning on fighting an entire army?'

Barnes looked up from examining the sights of a sniper rifle. '...no,' he said, a little guiltily, and adjusted one of the--five? Six? guns he’d already strapped to himself."

love is in the air (i smell coffee) by Flora_K, hermionesmydawg

Sam Wilson - graduate student, part-time barista, part-time salesman, and full-time father - doesn't have time to sleep, much less date. At least, that's what he tells himself.

Up at Night by bioloyg for lunaaltare

With Halloween nearing, Sam is feeling more in the mood for a scary movie than usual. He'd never watch one on his own though, so he invites his roommate to pick one out and join in on movie night. or Prompt fill for Samtember ~ "It’s quiet for a while after that. Like always, the two of them start on opposite sides of the queen sized bed with at least a foot of space between them. And, like always, they drift closer to one another as time passes, though whether it’s habitual or instinctual Sam would never dare delve into."

flowers in darkness, the moon above the sea by 27dis

Sam enjoyed his job, really.

But, not when a certain person came in.

A quick detour and a sudden arrival by iwillnotbecaged for heuradys

He found Wilson shivering in the snow, left for dead. Sloppy.

You couldn’t trust the elements to do your job for you. They were rarely so obliging.

A mission gone awry, unexpected help, and close quarters makes for an interesting couple of days.

Don't lock the door on me by TuskFM

Sam’s desperately trying to sleep when he gets a visit from the Winter Soldier at three a.m., bleeding and asking for help. Sam’s not the kind of guy who let someone bleed out on his front door, even if the said someone threw him off an helicarrier and stole his wheel.

and i run, further than before by hermionesmydawg

"What do they call you?" Bucky carefully pulls out an equal amount of caramel and cheese kernels of popcorn and pops them into his mouth. "Birdman?"

"No."

"Captain Canary?"

"Hell no."

"The Winged Avenger?"

"Falcon, dammit, and I am not an Avenger," Sam snaps, and now he's kinda pissed because yes, it's a bird name. He didn't sign up for this kind of ridicule from an amnesiac assassin.

***

Basically, the 5 times Sam actually found Bucky and the 1 time he tried to hide from him. Don't tell Steve.

Exquisite Flavor by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

W&M's Grand Corner's growing to be one of the popular restaurants in New York, where Sam Wilson works as a chef for his sister. A wedding's in a few weeks and he has no idea on what to do about it. Notorious for his picky taste and blunt reviews, Bucky 'Winter Wolf' Barnes pays a visit. Little did he know, food could really win one's heart and lands on his stomach.

He's a Beta, You Hear That? by 27dis

Reasons why Sam didn’t realize Bucky was courting him this entire time: 1. He is a beta 2. He is oblivious 3. He thought Bucky is way out of his league 4. He is a beta for fuck’s sake

See? It’s hardly his fault for not noticing it. Why was Bucky flirting with him anyw—

Oh. Oh.

Or; Bucky swore flirting with someone was never this hard before.

stay where we belong by glittercake

He doesn't know what the hell he's doing when he turns around and shouts, "Yo! You know what—" and Barnes turns on his heel in a flash, "It's getting late, man. Looks like rain."

Sam motions to the grey sky above, and Barnes follows his eyes beyond the hanging Willow branches. "Yeah? What are you saying?"

He's got that terribly smug look on his face, the one Sam can't stand but kind of misses when it's not irritating him. But mostly, he can't stand it, "Nothing! Forget about it!"

Arms Spread Out Wide, Turn Falling Into Flight by irisesandlilies

It was easy, nothing has ever been easy for Bucky. Except this, and that terrifies him.

Years in the making by glittercake

Bucky and Sam meet as two young soldiers, but the time is never quite right to make it anything more. Until it eventually is.

or

Sam refuses to let himself fall in love while he's deployed. Bucky pines endlessly for years about the prettiest bird he’s ever seen. Sam’s no better.

If At First You Don't Succeed by SonnyD

Bucky finally gains the courage to tell Sam about his feelings. He comes up with a list of methods to woo him that were bound to succeed. He didn't account for each and every one of them failing in unexpected ways. The five times that Bucky attempts to woo Sam and the one time that Sam returns the favour.

if i could take us back, if i could just do that... by safelikespringtime

Bucky laughed, cheeks flushing red, “I’m glad you didn't. Don't know what I’d do without my wingman.” Sam groaned, poking Bucky’s side, “That was awful.” Bucky laughed. “You couldn’t survive without me. We both know it.”

How right he was.

***

Sam dies. Bucky mourns.

Strawberries and Cigarettes always taste like you by winterscaptsam

There’s a sweet agonizing simplicity in leaving behind your safe haven, like the thrill of adrenaline, reaching the top of Everest, allowed to admire its beautiful icy view but with the everlasting fear of not making it back down. Maybe that's why it was a natural instinct for Bucky to reach out for the closest thing that felt like home, slowly then all at once falling for the sweet warmth of mahogany eyes, what soon became his safe haven.

Baked With Love by Siancore

Bucky Barnes’ family owns a bakery in a small town. High school has long been over, and Bucky is dying to move to the city to pursue a musical career with his band. And his future looks promising, if he can just persuade his father to let him leave his job behind at their struggling family bakery.

It is no secret that Bucky used to love baking with his father, but things change. He just can’t fathom wasting his life away watching rising dough and hot ovens. With his mind made up to leave, Bucky convinces his father to advertise for a replacement. While interviewing candidates to fill the position he has vacated, Bucky meets Sam Wilson: An easy-going guy who is as eager about baking as Bucky is about leaving. They bond over baking and become close. Love looks like it is ready to bloom between them if Bucky, in his haste to escape, does not ruin it.

Beneath this Crown by winterscaptsam

Sam traces his fingers from James’ hairline, down to his jaw, resting the pad of his thumb on James lips. He will let himself relish in this feeling. Not even the sculptors, painters or poets could carve their words and materials to accurately describe this.

“Do you think the history books will remember us?” Sam had once asked. And James’ words were made of the purest of golds, “my love, we will be legends for the children yet to come.”

Or

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes' love story, one a prince and the other a knight.

make my body come alive (i've got a right to hurt inside) by notcaycepollard

The body is weak. The body is hungry and soft and human. He looks at himself in the mirror, the bones of his shoulders, his cheeks hollowed out from hunger, and he thinks, gentle, you didn’t deserve this.

safe like spring time by quidhitch

“I already told you it looks good. What more is there?”

“I don’t know, man, you’re gonna live here. I just wish I knew a little bit more about how that’s sitting with you.”

Sam knows Bucky feels fine. What Sam’s probably actually after is how he feels about the fact neither of them have anywhere else to go, not with Natasha dead and Steve wrinkly. Therapists. Even the good ones, always so circular.

“I like the terrace,” Bucky offers, mostly to appease him.

Airy Laundry by AmarieMelody

Sam watches what happens when Bucky buys a clothesline.

lucky by CapnWinghead

In retrospect, it took Bucky an embarrassingly long time to realize that everyone and Scott's mom thought he and Sam were dating.

not an end, but (the start of all things) by notcaycepollard

They keep driving, for lack of anything better to do. A mission, Sam had said, and maybe that's true; maybe wherever they're headed is the way out, the way up.

So You Run On Gasoline by 343EnderSpark, ABitNotGoodieBag, OriginalCeenote

Bucky may have bitten off more than he could chew with this job, he thinks, as he ambles along the sidewalk to the cafe after leaving campus. He is running off the fumes of exhaustion and hasn’t had more than 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep in the past week. Between his students and his thesis, he knows that it’s foolish to try so hard to hang on to his barista gig, but DC isn’t a cheap place to live and Bucky can’t live with other people.

Bucky is just trying his best, despite being a human disaster.

we could jump the state lines (we only get the one life) by notcaycepollard

It starts in Paris.

“You can’t steal things just because you like them,” Sam tells Bucky, feeling innately that this is a losing battle, and Bucky cocks his head to the side, considers Sam very thoughtfully.

“Really,” he says. “I’m stealing you, aren’t I?”

we were a fire with no smoke by notcaycepollard

Sam can’t help but roll his eyes. Take the boys out of New York but they’re still Brooklyn Catholics, that’s clear enough. Bucky catches the gesture, smirks hard enough Sam can see his eye teeth. It should be dangerous but he’s beautiful, pale and charming and recklessly easy.

“You wanna come in?” Sam asks, ignoring the noise Steve makes, and Bucky’s smile gets wider.

“Yeah,” he says. Steps up close to Sam. “I do.”

Peace Begins with a Smile by Siancore

Bucky just likes the way Sam smiles.

They're Good Drones, Brent by chase_acow

When Redwing becomes infected with an alien A.I., Sam has to balance the needs of the team with his own curiosity about his new partner. Redwing isn’t the only one acting strange, he also needs to get to the bottom of Bucky’s weirdness. It takes a training exercise gone wrong that Redwing and Sam might not survive for their secrets to be exposed.

Wet Asphalt (This Is What Love Is) by ObviouslyOtter

Soft words in the dark tell us all we need to know about love. Better when they come from the person you need to hear it from most. It's crueler when you don't realize it till afterward.

Or

Sam and Bucky go out shopping for candles.

i'm gone by bi_marvel

After infiltrating a Hydra base, Sam and Bucky are sent to a safe house, and there's only one bed. Oh, golly, I wonder what will happen!

Covert Coffee & Flirtation Special by glittercake

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

The Starting Line by birdlight

A Series

Lone and Level Sands by quantum_consciousness

The almost-smile disappears off Sam’s face and he takes a step deeper into the water, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt as he wades further. One look over his shoulder and he chucks the shirt to shore, and Sam dives into the water. The ache in Bucky’s chest deepens as Sam swims. He supposes, Sam has lost a lot more, he supposes, sometimes Sam feels as lonely as he used to.

in which love doesn’t ruin us by joesnick

“Idiot,” Bucky said, so natural and deliberate that she couldn’t hear well but it was there. Relief and happiness under a small light. “Don’t do that to me again.”

“Hey, I’m here,” Sam said, before getting closer and pressing his forehead against Bucky’s. “I’m here.” They ran out of words. They didn’t need them, not at that moment. Their steadying breaths and their tenderness, saved only for each other and fed by each other, was all they needed.

Ride of Shared Melodies by enchantedlightningwrites for honestlyfrance

Two strangers, Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson meet in an unexpected encounter in the airplane. Over the course of the ride, they discover their mutual love for music and connect.

Let's Fly Away by Unclesteeb

"If I could fly, I could go anywhere. I could do anything.”

Sam’s mom gives his shoulder a gentle pat. “You can in your own way.”

“How?”

“Sammy, all you have to do to be as free as a bird is to just do the right thing.”

Sam furrows his brow. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Sam's mom starts. “The right thing is doing nice things for people. It's treating everyone how you would want to be treated. It's going out of your way to help people and love them, even if they're not nice to you at first or at all. People deserve love, and I know you have plenty to give.” She leans down to give his cheek a kiss. “All you have to do to find your wings and fly free is to just do what you feel is right. You have a beautiful heart, Sam. I know you'll use it the right way. Then you'll fly.”

Been one of those days (can I lean on you?) by hazel_eyed_bi

Sam and Bucky wrap up an exhausting, weeks-long mission, only to go back to their mutual pining while forced to share a bed at a crappy motel. Also, Nat knows what's up.

Find your love and fight for it by winterscaptsam

Sam learns to love again, quiet and composed. Love letters stay in between walls and stolen kisses don’t leave his apartment. It's not that it's a secret, loving Bucky the way he does, lord knows he’d scream it from the rooftops, travel all the way to space to let any living life form know it as well. But that’s the problem, he just doesn’t know how and it aches him to his core to keep Bucky like a secret, like this love is something to be ashamed of.

Or

Sam decides it's about time to come out.

Kings of Everything by glittercake

Twenty-five years after the events at a popular New York Bistro, Timothy DumDum Dugan tells the true story of infamous mobster Jimmy Buchanan and the man he gave it all up for.

arson we commit by winterscaptsam

Bucky seeks adventure, reaches out for an adrenaline rush whenever he can get it and he reckons this fellow will be the one to give it to him. All sweet smiled and dolled up figure showing off his attributes. Like he’s daring anyone to take the rush.

So, Bucky goes and gets what he wants.

“What’s your damage, doll?”

Or

Bucky is the hitman and Sam is the target.

The Boys of Summer by Siancore for avintagekiss24

Sam Wilson returns home to the small town he grew up in to complete his med school residency. He hasn’t been back for an extended amount of time since he left for college. While he only consistently kept in touch with childhood friend, Steve Rogers, he was keen to see the people he had grown up with. With the exception of Bucky Barnes. They had a falling out the summer before Sam left for college. What happened between them? Can they move past it now that they’re adults?

Sam's Plan by OhHelloFandoms123

“I have a plan,” Sam said smugly, hands on his hips. “I have a three-step plan for you to marry me.” At first, he thought he was joking. Then, he saw Sam’s genuine smile.

Bucky groaned, “there is no way in HELL that I’m marrying YOU, Wilson.”

Wreck In the West by OhHelloFandoms123 for honestlyfrance

There’s just something about leaning on his chest as the sun goes down and the smell of tea whilst into the air feels so amazing. And he was a wreck because of it, it tore him apart and put himself back together because it was so blissful, he almost couldn’t breathe at first.

OR

Gay cowboy proposal.

Belonging Season by OhHelloFandoms123

Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes have lived their most happy, married life for 70 years. Death won’t stop them today for living an eternity.

neverending; by glittercake

Sam passes away after a long and happy life with Bucky, but Bucky never ages and life keeps introducing him to Sam's reincarnates for the next 156 years.

Lighthouse by glittercake

This guy’s trouble. Bucky knows that in his bones. It’s not bad trouble, is the problem, it’s good. Sam is so goddamn inherently good and if Bucky even touches that with a ten foot pole—fuck if he even looks at it—it’ll turn to shit.

He can’t afford another move to yet another city because his colleagues started recognizing Brock’s fist prints on his face.

But Sam is a ridiculously bright glowing light, a beacon, and Bucky goes toward it like that idiotic moth to the flame.

masterlist | ko-fi | patreon

[nanoland]

drowstiel fic in progress

title: Clean Hands

fandom: Supernatural

pairings: Crowley/Castiel, Crowley/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester

blurb: In which Crowley is no one's first choice and he's totally fine with that! :) Really! :) :) :)

warnings: smut, cannibalism, demons getting themselves Extremely murdered

0 

Trumpets sounded. Mortar cracked. The ceiling collapsed, squashing half of Crowley’s court, and holy, horrifying light flooded into every corner.

“We are going,” Castiel growled, storming up to the throne and grabbing him by the scruff, “for a drink.”

Crowley’s tail twitched, wordlessly instructing his bodyguards to stand down. “Um. Fine?”

“Now.”

“Alright, alright. Where?”

“I don’t care.”

So Crowley teleported them to a cosy little nook in Finland, highly ranked among his personal favourites and unknown to any colleagues or enemies. It had a roaring fireplace, generously padded chairs, thick faux fur rugs, and a table by a window through which one could watch snow gently blanketing the city of Rovaniemi.

They ordered Koskenkorva and cider and Salmari and beer – or rather, Crowley did, while Castiel stared broodingly into the fire – and competed to see who could get totally hammered first.  

Castiel won. Castiel always won.

“Coke?” Crowley offered.

Scowling, the angel mumbled, “No. Nnn-o. Dean drinks Coke. Dean bought me a Coke once. Said I should try it. He always wants me to try things. Bacon and Star Wars and cowboy paraphernalia. Human things. Never wants to recipra… recipe… recital… never wants to try my things. Angel things. One-way street. Always.”

“Mmm. I can understand how that might feel invalidating, kitten. However, I was in fact offering you cocaine. Top-quality stuff, of course. Or weed?”

“Oh. Uhh – no. Thank you. Can I sit in your lap?”

With a put-upon sigh, Crowley settled back into his chair.

A woman seated across the room tutted disapprovingly as Castiel clambered onto him, twisting this way and that until he’d made himself comfortable with his legs dangling over the arm rest and his tousled head heavy on Crowley’s shoulder.

Looking her way with a pleasant, if carnivorous smile, Crowley said, “Your husband’s name is Verner. Your sister’s name is Aurelia. They’re currently having sex in your kitchen. Her bare, perky arse is resting on your oven mittens – the nice ones with the canary pattern. If you leave right now, you can catch them at it.”

“You are an abomination,” Castiel murmured into his neck as she bolted.

“You’re an absurdity,” he countered, sniffing his hair. Cheap shampoo. Cheap conditioner. Wood smoke, presumably from the boys’ latest hunt. Traces of blood. Traces of God.

The fire crackled. They drank some more.

“I gave Dean a feather,” Castiel said. “One of mine. It’s what we do to show loyalty. Admiration. When I served Heaven, I received feathers from various admirers every week.”

He sounded smug.

Adorable.

“It wasn’t sexual, mind,” he added, quickly.

“Of course.”

“Nor romantic. We don’t engage in such things. Nonetheless, it was meaningful. Is meaningful.”

“And Dean, I imagine, didn’t realize that.”

“Obviously not. I wasn’t expecting him to. He’s a human; why should he understand our customs? But I thought… I thought he’d at least ask. I was prepared for him to ask. I had an explanation ready to go. And then he didn’t. He took the feather, looked embarrassed, smiled, thanked me, and returned to doing Sam’s laundry.”

“Ouch.”

“I’ve never been so humiliated.”

Crowley gave him a consoling kiss, which he returned hungrily, though not cruelly. In this, Castiel was never cruel. Only demanding. Which was fine; Crowley liked being in demand.

When Castiel withdrew his questing tongue, he looked unsatisfied. (Brattish.) “Why must you always lurk so deep? Come forward. I want to see you.”

Huffing, like it wasn’t something he was asked to do and gladly did every time, Crowley let himself slide from his host’s brain into his eyeballs, turning them crimson; from his chest to his tongue, causing his breath to stink of petrol and graveyard dirt; from his veins to his extremities, prompting his fingernails and toenails to adopt a distinctly claw-like appearance. His expensive black socks would be ruined. “Better, birdy?”

Immediately, Castiel returned to kissing him. (Really, it felt as though he was trying to suck Crowley from his host’s mouth into his own.

Like he wants to eat me.

Crowley shivered happily.)  

Drawing back, Castiel said, “Take us to a hotel room. I want to touch your penis.”

“I live but to serve.”

It had taken Crowley a while to work out what Castiel’s odd sexual ministrations made him feel like; a stim toy. The angel liked nothing more than to fiddle with him. To tug at his chest hair, to pluck at his nipples until they were plump and rosy, and yes, to poke and pat and play with his cock until Crowley whimpered.

“I don’t understand why he’s so reluctant to open up to me,” Castiel sighed, breath-taking on black silk sheets and settled between Crowley’s thighs, twirling grey-streaked pubic hair around his index finger.

“I like opening up to you,” said Crowley, and demonstrated.

Castiel lowered his head and peered appreciatively. “Your vessel is so much furrier than mine. Like you’ve glued a badger’s pelt between your buttocks.”

Some might have found a fuckbuddy who had only two settings – i.e. ‘the worst dirty talk conceivable’ and ‘pining for another man’ – frustrating. Crowley had long since put such petty grievances aside, because he was emotionally mature. Worldly. Smooth. Definitely not because he craved Castiel’s presence all day long and whispered his name to the stars at night.

“Hurry up and stick it in me, you twat.”

As Castiel hoisted Crowley’s legs over his shoulders, he stroked the hair there too. “Mmm. So fluffy. Honestly, with all this to keep you warm, I don’t see why you have to cover yourself in so many layers.”

“You’re one to talk! You’d wear that trench to the scorching outback if you got half the chance.”

“Temperature isn’t a factor for me. Besides, Dean likes me wearing it. It gives him a sense of continuity that he lacks in other areas of his life.”

Castiel couldn’t tell the difference between a groan of pleasure and a groan of exasperation. That was for the best.

Afterwards, Crowley arranged his host such that the majority of his weight rested on Castiel’s chest. So far, it was the only reliable way to ensure he didn’t get dressed and leave the moment they were done.

“Were you busy?” Castiel asked, panting. “When I entered Hell? You probably were. You’re always busy. You work even harder than Raphael used to.”

“Never too busy for you, pet,” he purred, punctuating his assurance with a saucy wiggle.

Castiel’s phone rang.

Castiel actually answered it (rather than his usual reaction to ringing phones – his or Crowley’s – when they were in bed, which was to narrow his eyes at them until their screens cracked and they leaked smoke), which meant it was Dean.

“I am needed,” he announced, rolling Crowley off him.

With a mocking salute, Crowley slithered into the warm spot his body had left. “Godspeed, mighty warrior. Try not to lose any more feathers.”

Fumbling with his tie, Castiel said, “I’m planning to give him one more. A second chance. If he doesn’t react appropriately, I’ll…”

“You’ll what?”

The tie was abandoned, flopping half-knotted against his crisp white shirt. “I’ll be back for more sex. Goodbye.”

With that, he was gone.

Under his stolen skin, Crowley curled into a smoky ball and cursed the whole world. 

0 

‘Never too busy for you,’ he’d told Castiel.

‘My door’s always open,’ he’d promised Dean.

But surely they both understood that if they were going to summon him in the middle of the working day, they would, occasionally, be interrupting something?

“Is that a kidney?” said Dean, staring at the bloody lump in Crowley’s hand.

Flustered, Crowley popped it into his mouth and swallowed it. The thought occurred, a second later, that his instinctive, perfectly normal as per demon etiquette attempt to make the situation less awkward might have been ill-advised.

“I’ll just go, shall I?” he muttered dejectedly.

Dean shook his head, sighing. “Nah. Won’t make me unsee it. But we’re not kissing.”

“Could brush my teeth? Suck on a mint?”

“No. Now get your pants off. I don’t have all day.”

Dear boy. He wasn’t always like this. Often, Crowley appeared in the circle to find him red-eyed, puffy-nosed, and at least slightly drunk, and he’d touch Crowley without saying a word all evening. Other times, he’d be wound tight, buzzing with frustration after a hunt gone wrong or a fight with Castiel or Sam. On such occasions, sex would be more like a wrestling match, Dean’s quick reflexes and pickpocket cunning pitted against Crowley’s ability to lift a car with one hand, and after they’d brutalised one another for a few hours Dean would slide off Crowley’s cock with a bone-deep groan of satisfaction and sleep like the dead. Those times tended to be Crowley’s favourites.

But this was nice, too. Brisk, rude, faux-impatient – today, Dean was in a good mood. And Dean in a good mood meant one thing and one thing only.

“Jesus fu-aaah,” Crowley exhaled, having barely slipped his 100% virgin wool trousers down his thighs before the hunter entered the circle, dropped smoothly to his knees, and latched onto the waiting erection like there was a panel of judges mere metres away and a million dollar cash prize on the line.

Dean Winchester wasn’t nearly as good at sex as he thought he was. But he always, always tried his best, and sometimes that raw enthusiasm was erotic enough all on its own.

“So,” said Dean, pulling back to study his work with that critical mechanic’s eye. “Something weird happened the other day.”

“Really? To you?”

“No, not normal Winchester-brand weird. No new apocalypses brewing, far as I’m aware. Just… y’know. Odd.”

Abruptly, he stood up, wiping his lips, and took Crowley by the arm. Sweeping the edge of his shoe through the circle, he all-but-frogmarched him across the room to the old mattress he’d set up in a corner specifically for these occasions.

(They didn’t always have sex in a grimy abandoned shed three miles from the nearest road. Sometimes they had sex in grimy abandoned cars with wheels buried in knee-deep weeds or, when Dean was feeling unusually romantic, dive bar bathrooms. Crowley didn’t care. He’d fucked Napoleon III in a haystack once.)

Absentmindedly arranging Crowley to his liking, Dean said, “Cas gave me a feather.”

Unnoticed by Dean, every microorganism within a seventy-foot radius – excepting those within his own body – died in a flash of hellfire. “Oh?”

“Yeah. And not, like, a pigeon feather or whatever. One of his. Weird, right?”

“Mm. Very.”

Dean thrust into him, business-like. “You read a lot, yeah? Probably even more than Sammy. Ever found a book that analyses – I dunno – weird angel shit? Or ancient prophecies involving angel feathers?”

Goddamn rotten bloody humiliation kink, he thought moodily, feeling his cock begin to leak. Probably done more to damage my reputation than that time Lilith caught me sneaking into David Cameron’s bedroom wearing a silk chemise and a British Lop. “Not that I can recall, no.”

Giving his arse a friendly smack, Dean said, “C’mon. You gotta know something. Or, if you don’t, you gotta have a theory. I know that nasty li’l brain of yours never stops working. Why would an angel give a human a feather?”

The deranged, beautiful monster hadn’t stopped buggering him.

Even worse, Crowley hadn’t stopped liking it.

“Alright, alright,” he groaned, fingernails surreptitiously sharpening as he dragged them over the mattress. “Stop. Lemme think for a moment. No, no, scratch that. Absolutely do not stop. Oh fuck, fuck, please don’t stop.”

“Crowley,” Dean whined, and while he’d have loved to think that he was whining in passion, he knew better.

“Look, it’s a gift, yeah? He gave you a gift. Use – fuurgh – use your brain, squirrel. Why do people usually give gifts?”

A big, calloused hand wrapped around his cock. “Birthdays. Bribes. To say thank you. To say sorry. Hey, could that be it? Has he… aw, shit, has he done something stupid behind my back? Again? And he doesn’t want to admit it but he’s feeling guilty so he’s giving me weird presents? I bet that’s it.”

Crowley wasn’t certain what language he used to say, “Jesus Christ, you’re both beyond hope,” in the seconds before he came. He was only just mentally present enough to make sure it wasn’t English.

After finishing off with a hearty grunt, Dean belly-flopped onto the mattress next to him. “Fuck yeah, man. That was great. Wonder if I can use it for something? A bona fide angel feather’s gotta have serious mojo, right?”

Facedown and breathing into the pillow, Crowley made a ‘who knows?’ gesture.

“Maybe it could be made into a weapon,” Dean murmured, gently stroking Crowley’s scalp. “There’s precedent. The First Blade was a mule’s jawbone. Or maybe I could write with it – like a quill. Heh, imagine a devil’s trap drawn with an angel’s feather. That would fuck you guys up, right?”

“Sure,” Crowley rasped, lifting his head. “Why not?”

Dean yawned. “So how’s Hell? Been about a month since we last did this, so… what’s that… about a decade down there? Had any problems? Moved the furniture around?”

“No. Hell doesn’t change much these days. Lilith was the innovator. Always installing a new lake of fire here, a new torture chamber there; slaughtering her political opponents en masse; throwing out promotions and demotions and beheadings left and right. Not my style. I prefer stability. Behind my back, they say that I’m the most boring monarch Hell’s ever had. Well, no – they say that wherever they want. When they’re behind my back, they try to stab me.”

He rolled over, wincing at a twinge in his well-used arse.

“Stability’s great and all,” Dean mumbled, sounding half-asleep. “And for real, I think it’s cool that you’ve made Hell so much less… torture-y. But y’ever think about aiming higher?”

“Eh?”

“Making Hell not suck, I mean. You know? Not just stable but actually tolerable for everyone who’s gotta live there. Now and then when I’m ganking some demon dickbag, I start thinking that maybe they wouldn’t always be causing so much trouble on Earth if they liked being in Hell more.”

Crowley laughed. Long and loud. “Where’s this coming from? Is this a Sam idea? It sounds like a Sam idea. Your bleeding-heart centrist of a brother going through another introspective phase, right? Bless.”

Scowling, Dean said, “Wow, someone’s defensive. What’s wrong? Pissed that the Boy King could run the place better than you?”

“Come off it, Dean. You don’t believe that for a second. Sam’s no leader. Much less a leader of demons. And the notion of ‘fixing’ Hell… it’s Hell. It’s not meant to be fixed. It’s not meant to be tolerable, it’s not meant to be endurable. It exists to break people. Horror is its bedrock. Sure, I can tidy up, I can replace the Gitmo vibe with the good ol’ eternal queue, but I can’t make it nice.”

“Huh. Okay, I get it,” said Dean, stretching, slyness in his eyes. “It’s not that you don’t want to – it’s that you don’t think you can. You’re not powerful enough, or smart enough, or whatever. I guess that’s fair. Surprised to hear you admit it, though.”

Like a blowfish, Crowley’s smoke puffed up to thrice its usual size, spilling from his eyes, ears, and lips as he pounced on Dean and pinned him to the mattress.

“Watch your tongue, brat,” he hissed, tail manifesting with its point aimed at Dean’s throat. “I’m not your pet pigeon. Had I the magnanimity of Saint Francis himself I’d not sit here and listen to some cunting mortal question my leadership. What in the name of God’s greasy bollocks do you know about ruling anything? You’ve never so much as managed a fucking corner shop. You’ve never even been employed.”

Dean grinned. “Damn, did I touch a nerve? Sorry, sweetcheeks.”

A canine rumble poured from Crowley’s thick throat. He felt Dean’s wrist bones creak under his grip. “Arrogant little rat.”

They glared at one another, unblinking.

“You ready to go again?” Dean asked.

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

In a violent flurry, they competed to see who could jack the other to completion first. Dean won. Dean always won.

“Same time next month?” Crowley enquired, watching him get dressed afterwards.

“Maybe. It’ll be coming up on Halloween and that’s always the worst time of year for us.”

“Mmm. Same. You’d be amazed how many false alarms we get; idiot teenagers deciding to summon a demon for fun and not actually wanting to make a deal or not letting them out of the trap afterwards. Last year, my secretary found them waiting for her with SuperSoakers full of salted holy water. Still – unless I’m busy – and, obviously, I probably will be busy – I’ll only be a phone call away if you poor lost lambs get yourselves mixed up in something you can’t handle.”

“Cool,” Dean said over his shoulder, already halfway out the door. “Catch you later.”

Crowley waited until his footsteps had faded and his scent had cleared. Then he grabbed the pillow, pressed it to his face, and screamed for forty minutes. 

(to be continued) 

[constantlyunlightening]

Song Bird

Day 9: Cage with Keigo Takami

Other kinks/warnings: None, I think. Pretty straight forward

I cannot explain to you why I have decided to put more emotional baggage inside of a kinktober fic??? Idk. This one is a LOT sweeter than my Enji fic and I wouldn’t even call it angst. I just don’t know how to write Hawks without putting some of that inner turmoil in him. But for the most part, this fic is a sweeter kink one.

I just wanna flirt with Keigo, you guys. He’s my pretty bird T~T

Disclaimer: 18+ only to read. All characters are aged 20+

“Pretty sure it’s the bird that’s supposed to be in the cage, Keigo,” you folded your arms above your head, resting them against the golden metal of the bars that lined the cage. Where Keigo had gotten a human sized bird cage was beyond her, but it was pretty. It reminded you of one of those antique canary cages, just a whole lot bigger. It felt sturdy too as you leaned your weight against the bars, letting your gaze meet an amused Keigo who stood on the other side, twirling the ring of a sparkly key on his finger. 

“Aw, come on now, I’ve been caged my whole life. May as well let me know how it feels to be on the other side of things for once.” A snarky grin was painted onto his lips as you made a show of rolling your eyes, pushing off the bars in front of you and instead leaning on the ones behind you. It was only a step or two back. It wasn’t completely restrictive by any means but you certainly didn’t have a ton of wiggle room in here. But the opening between the bars, although not wide enough to allow you to squeeze through, were spread enough apart that you didn’t feel too claustrophobic.  "You look so pretty when I know you can’t fly away from me.“

A little extreme, but you were fairly sure he was joking. Keigo had a weird sense of humor once in awhile. He usually came off as sarcastic and casual, but sometimes he’d slip a comment or two in that would just feel… odd. But you were used to it at this point and you knew that a few awkward lines or dark moments didn’t make him a bad person. And so you took the time to give him a sweet smile, reassuring him gently. “As if I would ever want to,” you mused gently and you noted the little extra bit tug upwards on the corners of his lips. “But for real, birdie. Why’d you put me in here?”

When you had gotten home today, Keigo had excitedly pulled you into your room, showing off his latest splurge. You had been a little thrown off at first but your curiosity got the best of you and you had went in closer, inspecting the door, he made a show of pretending to accidentally bump you in there. You knew it wasn’t an accident with the little “whoops” that had melted off his lips, but as he shut and locked the door behind him, it was clear he meant to get you in here. You were just trying to figure out why. 

The dark chuckle he sent you in response gave you reason to believe that whatever reason it was, it was something untoward of him. You were down. That low rumble of laughter had a way of melting your core the second you caught the vibrations. 

“Spice things up a little? I don’t know. Sounded fun.” He shoved the key to the door in his pocket, hiding it from view before red wings contorted behind him as he slipped them out of his jacket before tossing his coat away, letting you take the time to admire the lean form of his arms. He wasn’t nearly as built as someone like Allmight or Endeavor but you liked the more toned-out look of Hawks anyway. Wasn’t built like a wall maybe, but he wasn’t lacking muscle by any means either. “I figured you’d look cute all trapped for me. And I was right. Makes me wanna play with you.”

He was right about something else too. It did sound kind of fun. In any case, it couldn’t hurt to try it out. But you were a bit too sassy to just give your birdie what he wanted. And, besides, he strived off getting control of a situation on his own. “Better be careful how many games you try and play or I might come out of here seeking revenge. I could just try to come and eat you up,” you hummed, flirtation lacing your voice. You didn’t miss the way marigold eyes darkened at you and he practically licked his lips.

“Don’t tempt me. Now I’m almost wondering if I should have been in the cage instead.”

“It’s not too late to trade out, pretty bird.”

“I said almost.”

He was up against the bars and you before you realized it, his arm shot out through the bar and he grabbed you by the neck, tugging you up to the front of the cage and giving a small squeeze around you.. He wasn’t actually squeezing hard enough to do much more than slow your breathing a little, but the action was enough to leave you staggering with the suddenness of it. His other hand was gripped tight around the bar to keep his face from smashing up against the cage as his eyes drifted to the claw he had on your pretty throat. “You’re cute when you think you’re in charge, but I feel like making it clear who’s calling the shots today.” A tighter grip for just a second before he loosened up almost completely now just using the hold to gingerly keep you in place. You could try and move away but both of you already knew who was faster. Your heart was moving faster now but a flood of heat had already started to blister through you and you met his gaze with a huff.

“When I think I’m in charge?”

“Yeah. It’s only because I let you be,” he retorted simply, and the way he shrugged his shoulders at you almost pissed you off, but as his hand slipped away from your neck and moved slowly down your body, tracing over the contours of your body with feather touches, your emotions were preoccupied. “But still, there’s something different about you being trapped here for me. Nowhere to run.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, his hands dragging up underneath your shirt, letting his hand feel the warmth of your skin as they crawled. “I could do some really bad things to you.”

It wasn’t his usual demeanor and you were torn between being heated and being concerned as he cupped your breasts over your bra, kneading your chest in drawn out motions. In the time you had been dating him, you had figured out that Keigo’s carefree demeanor wasn’t something that was actually all that carefree. There was a lot more anxiety that swam deep under the surface and he was starting to show it to you more and more. You never pushed - you weren’t going to force his feelings out of him - but you couldn’t help but be curious about the baggage he seemed to be holding onto. And the odd lull in his voice right now made you wonder if he was showing you some of that now. 

Weird time to reflect, and an even weirder time to try and help as you were being fondled but still. “You could. But you won’t,” you clarified softly as you dragged your shirt up, only to put your hand on top of his, helping him massage your chest, locking your fingers on top of his even as your back arched. 

His brows raised just a fraction, you almost missed it. But the way his voice came out with a laugh next, you felt yourself ease a bit. “You sound confident. Be careful, I’m a bad, bad guy ya know?” Another squeeze, this time pushing pressure upwards, before letting go and applying the same attention to the other side. 

“No, you’re not. Not to me,” you were ready with your response, as clearly as before. Whatever heavy emotions he carried, you wanted to soothe them in the ways you could. And he seemed to enjoy that response as his wings fluffed out behind him. 

That odd air about him was gone now,  and he flashed you a smile so predatory that your thighs clenched even as he tugged his hand away, retreating it back to his side.

“Oh, no. I’m a bad guy especially to you.”

You’d didn’t mind this kind of bad at all.

“Take your clothes off for me,” he was cooing now as he folded his arms over his chest and simply waited. You resisted the urge that came to listen. You wanted this man to wreck you, sure. But attitude came first when he was feeling cocky.

“And if I don’t-”

Before you could even finish your words, a single feather darted in between the bars and you squeaked as it nimbly sliced the fabric of your shirt and just barely missed you. “I suppose I can give you some motivation.”

“Hey, I liked this shirt!” You whined even as suddenly you found yourself obliging, the threat of his feathers ripping off your clothes making you tingle. Maybe that’d be an idea for another day when you weren’t particularly fond of your outfit - or locked in a cage.

“Told you I was a bad guy. Now strip. All the way, my cute little captive.” He continued on with a sweet hum, his eyes burning into you as you discarded your wardrobe, letting it pile up on the floor of the cage. He had your body practically memorized and yet he took it in every time like it was the first time he ever got to see you. “Absolutely gorgeous." 

When you kicked your panties off of your heels, that’s when you glanced back to Keigo to see him circling his finger, indicating you to turn around with a silent gesture. You weren’t sure how he would motivate you to move if you didn’t listen this time but you didn’t find out. Instead, your body spun to face the other direction for him and he whistled a little tune at the sight of your backside. "Now you’re listening? Cute. Keep it up and I just might reward you for it.” His hand was shot through the cage again and he reached around to grab the front of your thigh and dragged your entire body back so you were backed up against the bars. “Move to your side a little. There you go, right there,” molten heat welled in his voice as he guided you to stand with your center right between two of the bars, giving him a nice view of your ass - “spread your legs” - and your dripping cunt. 

He went quiet for a moment, but a rustle behind you and the sound of clinking metal filled the silence. The sound of a belt, the sound of rustling fabric, then he was behind you, with something hard slipping between your legs and gently smacking against the most needy part of your body. “If you don’t wanna fall, bend over and grab the bars in front of you. Better keep that ass pushed back over here though,” he declared as he slid his length back and forth against you, playfully dipping against your hole before sliding back forward. You bit your lip, but in the next moment, you dipped at the waist, getting a grip onto the metal as you pushed the rest of your weight back into your heels, letting the bars make indents against your backside and you gave a whine as his cock sunk into you from between the bars. “I’m about to turn my pretty girl into a song bird.”

[lukneetoonz]

Never Tear Us Apart

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Summary: You always did say you attracted the bad ones...

Pairing: Mafia!Dabi x Jazz Singer Female!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, smoking, cussing, sexy times implied, violence, semi angst I guess, drinking, just some good stuff.

Word Count: 2,509

A/N: I know I know- what the hell am I doing writing another Fic when I still have two to finish, well, when I saw prison outfit dabi, I just- *boom* instant inspiration, I couldn’t help it! PLUS I HIT 200 FOLLOWERS AND WANTED TO DO SOMETHING SPECIAL!!

ARTWORK CREDS TO @workofann ! I WAS INSPIRED BY THEIR ART TO DO THIS!! PLEASE GO CHECK THEM OUT!

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How come you only attracted the bad guys? And no you didn’t mean jerks, you meant actual bad guys. Was it something about you that made guys think, ‘Hey this pretty dime looks like she would go for me, a famous bank robber!’. You don’t even have enough fingers to count all the men you’ve been with that end up in jail, or dead! But you’ll have to admit, none of those men took your breath away like the blue eyed devil you called your man.

How could you not fall in love with Dabi? The way he smirked, how he would smoke after an amazing night in bed, but the best of it all was his whisky and campfire scent. It was intoxicating, and if you could, you’d drown in it. From the very first moment that your eyes met, you knew you had to have him and keep those beautiful alluring eyes in your life. For the rest of your set, you only stared at him across the club, making sure to put on your best performance.

Thankfully you also caught his eye, not even listening to the blonde haired girl beside him, or the blue haired man who looked like he might kill the girl across from him. As the boss, Dabi didn’t need to listen, he just needed to give orders and stand back. Never did the man think he would be thankful to Toga for something so insignificant, like finding this underground jazz club. Snapping out of his trance, he made his crew leave, because like hell was he going to let them see you up close and ruining things for him before he even got a chance.

That night, Dabi waited. He waited until you were done so he could talk to you, maybe buy you a drink. As you walked off the stage, a hand reached out to you to help, wanting to make sure you didn’t fall. When your eyes met those shining blue ones again, you automatically blushed, because now those eyes were even closer. Seeing them so close, you could see every little detail, they held so much in them, it felt like you could drown in them.

“So Tell me, what does a guy like me gotta do to buy a pretty little dame like yourself, a drink?” His smooth, but raspy voice brought A smile to your face as you felt your whole body heat up. “Hmm, I don’t know honey… how does tellin me your name sound?” Dabi leaned closer to you, a smirk on his face as he twirled a strand of your hair with his finger, “Names Dabi. Now how about we go dip the bill and I can learn more about you than just your name?”

That’s all it took for you to mindlessly nod and follow the stranger to the bar, unknowing that it would be the first of many nights you would spend together. Not that you were complaining…

*•*

Months later, you found yourself spending all your free time with Dabi. You guys told eachother everything, well at least you told him everything. Even if you had talked about marriage and what the future held for you two, you still didn’t know about his real job, nor his hobbies. You were listening to the radio news while you got dinner ready, not really caring until the crime spot started.

“Touya Todoroki, also known as ‘Matches’, struck again last night. In his wake, 4 bodies were recovered from the burned warehouse that is notoriously known for its storing of pharmaceutical drugs. The bodies have not been identified, but the police ask if anyone has information on the mafia boss, please call the tip line.” You shuddered as a frown made its way onto your face, those poor people… not to mention their families, what if they never find out?

The opening and closing of the door brought you out of your thoughts, and also brought a smile on your face. “Doll? You here?” Skipping out of the kitchen, you prounced on Dabi, arms wrapping around his neck as he spun you around. “You’re home early honey, good day today?” You were so innocent, so sweet, that’s what drew him towards you. But it’s also what made him feel so horribly guilty. Nodding, the black haired man kissed your forehead, “It’s a good day whenever I get to see you doll…”

A giggle left your lips as you stared up at the handsome man, hands playing with his suspenders, “I already love you, you don’t have to flirt with me anymore” Dabi laughed, kissing your nose as he winked, “Who says I flirt for you? Maybe I flirt because I love seeing your reactions to it.” He really knew what to say to make your heart flutter, smiling you kissed his cheek softly.

“So, anything new today?” Dabi asked as he sat down at the table, watching you do the same. “Not really, but the radio was talking about some redhot… even thinking about it gives me the heebie-jeebies” You shuddered as you once again remembered the reporters words. Dabi tilted his head and took a sip of his drink, looking at you curiously, “It was probably just some common thug that the fuzz will put away.” You frowned at your man's nonchalant attitude.

“That’s the thing, they were saying it was some- big named mobster! They had a nickname for him and everything, he popped 4 people!” At the new information, Dabi tensed and his grip on the utensils tightened. “Uh… you talking about Matches?” You pointed at the man across from you nodding, “Yes-! That was it. Touya ‘Matches’ todo-something! I can’t stop thinking if those people he killed had families, and if they did will they even be able to bury them properly?”

The more you talked, the faster Dabi’s heart raced. Those damn reporters never knew when to shut their kissers. Yet, hearing you talk about him in such a negative tone made him fill with guilt. He was nothing but a grifter. He convinced himself and you, that he was a normal 9 to 5 worker, he made you believe that he was anything but the man on the radio. When you saw those beautiful blue eyes staring off into space, you couldn’t help but frown, wanting to know what was troubling him so you could help.

“You look troubled handsome, what’s going on?” Dabi bit his lip and looked at her, a thoughtful look on his face, but before he could answer, the door was broken down and multiple police officers came charging in with their guns up, “DON'T MOVE AND PUT YOUR HANDS ON YOUR HEADS” In came a big man, with fire red hair and- and eyes that matched Dabi? Screaming out, you did as you were told, looking over to the man you loved terrified, only to see he had a dark look on his face, anger practically sleeping out of him.

“Where the fuck do you get off coming in when I’m with my girl? Huh?” Dabi snarled, his eyes meeting the red haired detective, in one motion he pulled you behind him. “She doesn’t know shit, you didn’t need to bring the whole chopper squad.” You were confused, but nonetheless gripped onto Dabi like your life depended on it. “Zip it Touya, by the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging to be left to fry” Enji motioned for one of the officers to grab you, and before you could protest, arms wrapped around you and started tugging you away.

Dabi didn’t hesitate to react as he whipped around and sucker punched the officer who dared to touch you. Only he was roughly grabbed and pistol whipped by Enji, “Assaulting a police officer? That can earn you a three-spot easily. And your little pro skirt here? I can send her to the house for hiding a thug like you.” You sobbed out, trying to reach Dabi but he held his hand up to you, as of saying stop.

“That’s my girl you’re talking bad about, watch it pig. Like I said she knows nothing, she’s just a little Canary at a small jazz club.” Enji let out a snicker, walking towards you and forcefully grabbed your chin to look at him, “How dumb does this broad have to be to not know she’s been sharing a bed with a punk like yourself?” You let out a whimper, eyes filled with fright as you looked at Dabi, “D-Dabi, what is he talking about?”

Sapphire eyes refused to meet your own, jaw tensing he let a cop handcuff him, “I’m the one you heard about on the radio doll… I’m sorry” His words were a whisper, and you felt as if your whole world came crashing down as you dropped to your knees. Enji laughed before he grabbed dabi’s arm, “You’re an embarrassment to the Todoroki name.” The red haired man scoffed, earning a glare from Dabi, “You ain’t no angel yourself, pop.”

As they dragged Dabi away, you didn’t even know what to feel. He lied to you. This whole time he lied to you. You didn’t even know his real name. Who was the man you fell in love with? Was that just a cover? A facade to hide from the police? When everyone was gone, you still stayed in your spot, tears rushing down your face as you felt like you had been beaten down. Could you even love Dabi anymore?

*•*

Ever since that day, you had no contact with Dabi. Even if he hurt you, you still listened to the radio to hear about his trial, or any news related to him. It had been 2 months without him, and you couldn’t find it in you to let him go. When the reporter announced that Dabi was sentenced to life in prison, you couldn’t help but sob. You were going to have to let him go, even if he was the love of your life, you still wanted to get married one day, maybe even have kids. You wanted all those things that you were supposed to do with Dabi, but now you can’t.

After he was properly sentenced and sent to his new home, you started getting letters frequently, all of them from the same place Dabi was held at. Even if your heart begged you to open each letter, you couldn’t. If you did, you’d fall right back into his arms and be stuck on him til the day you died. After a month of letters, they stopped coming, only for dabi’s associates to come knocking at your door. But you ignored the loud banging and calls for your name, maybe- just maybe they’ll think you moved.

While you were a mess, Dabi was even worse. Sure, he was basically the king of the house, but it all meant nothing when he lost the only thing he loved; his queen. Dabi grew worried, thinking something might have happened to you, so when he sent his associates at your door, imagine his surprise to know you were alive. He knew he messed up, but like hell was he gonna let the image of him being dragged away be your last memory of him.

Since the day he was arrested, Dabi was planning his escape. He had some of the jurors on his pay grade, not to mention most of the guards at the prison owed him a favor. One day, later in the night, Dabi was being ‘transported’, his little informer Hawks had him all set up for the perfect escape. The handcuffs would ‘malfunction’ and he’d be able to free a hand from one of the silver bracelets, granting him more than enough leeway to escape unharmed.

As he bent down over one of the now dead guards, he took in a deep breath, stealing the pack of cigarettes that was on the corpse. “Keigo, did i ever tell you that you’re my favorite little snitch?” Yellow eyes glared as the blonde man cleaned up slightly, “yeah yeah, just shoot me in the shoulder and go get your gal.” Dabi laughed before shooting Keigo in a place he knew wouldn’t kill him, but still make it seem like he wasn’t part of what happened.

There was no hesitation in dabi’s actions as he stayed in the shadows but made his way to you, still in his orange jumper and partial handcuffs. All he knew was that he needed to see you. It was late, probably about 10 pm, so he knew you were probably asleep. When he reached your building, he started climbing up the fire escape, counting the floors as he went up. As he reached your window, he didn’t hesitate to open it, slightly upset that it wasn’t locked and just anyone could come in.

Though when he entered, he had a cigarette hanging loosely between his lips, blue eyes automatically landing on your fully awake figure, clutching a crowbar. “D-dabi?” Tears filles your eyes, as you pinched yourself, trying to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The man before you chuckled, walking towards you, “I was getting worried something happened to you doll, it stings to know that all along you’ve been avoiding me.”

Even if he had a playful tone, his eyes were full of hurt, but it soon changed when you collided with his chest. “H-how? I thought I was never going to see you again, and- dabi I had to keep my distance or else I would never be able to let you go!” The black haired man hushed your rambles, a hand coming to stroke your hair, “I’m sorry doll… I promise I ain’t ever leaving you again.” A smile spread to both of your faces, but you soon looked worried.

“What if they come here looking for you? What will we do?” Ruffling your hair Dabi went and grabbed your suitcase, putting it on the bed. “We won’t be here for them to tear us apart. I know a place for us to stay and they won’t ever get to us.” You nodded and started to stuff your belongings into the empty bag, heart racing with excitement of the unknown. “We’ll never die out, right Dabi?” Dabi nodded, hand coming to cup your cheek, “Right doll…”

[firesoulstuff]

Captain Canary prompts 6 and 9 in a single fic.

6. “You were lonely and needed someone to lean on. I get it.”

9. “I’m not trying to be your friend, I’m trying to fuck you.”

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544165/chapters/67463293

Sara is not fine.

After a day of threatening their incompetent captain they finally got him to compromise with Sara. He’s standing firm on his claim that they can’t change what happened to Laurel, but they at least got him to bring Sara back to the day of her funeral. She’d gone with Ray, as he had known Laurel too. Leonard had thought about offering to go but it had felt like too much of an overstep. Things between them have been at a standstill since he almost died blowing up The Oculus. Before going in there he had asked her about the future, and then that offer came dangerously close to being yanked out from under them. Maybe they could’ve talked about it, but then she found out her sister died in the time they’ve been away on the mission, and he wasn’t about to bring up his stupid feelings while she’s dealing with that.

Her sister is dead. She’d had murder in her eyes when she confronted Rip about it. She barely said a word after the mission with Savage, and had been cold and curt in what she did say when he and Raymond convinced Hunter into taking them back to the funeral. She is not fine.

He can’t seriously be the only one not buying that lie.

They’re sitting on his bed like they would on any other night. They’re playing Gin, sitting cross-legged with the pile between them. Leonard keeps sneaking glances at Sara, more so than usual. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from her; it isn’t like she’s the type to spontaneously break down. Still… He isn’t sold on Raymond’s claim that the funeral gave her enough closure to move on with her life. Not this fast, not when he knows how deep her love for her sister runs.

At some point she adjusts her position, stretching out her legs on either side of the pile between them and her toes brush up against his knees. He glances up, and doing so has his eyes meeting hers, then they both turn their attentions back to their cards without a word. This isn’t the first time they’ve had some form of casual physical contact during one of their games.

The game ends soon after, he wins, and he starts to gather up the pile to shuffle again for a second game.

“You wanna watch a movie?” She asks, and it catches him a little off guard.

He looks up at her, watches her watch him for an answer. She doesn’t look overly tired, and he wonders if he missed the signs of her losing interest throughout their game. He supposes it doesn’t matter much. She isn’t going to play another game, so he can either watch a movie or send her back to her room and after today, and maybe he’s being over cautious, but he doesn’t really like the idea of her being alone.

“Sure.”

They get comfortable leaned against the back wall behind his bed, sitting side bye side with their legs outstretched and their shoulders pressed lightly together. Normal for them.

After scrolling through some of the options in Gideon’s database they decide on We’re the Millers, something with enough substance to hold both their interests if they want, but also mindless enough that they can stop paying attention at any time.

They’re only at Jennifer Aniston’s first stripper routine when Sara uncrosses her ankles and knocks her foot against his, and by the start of the second one only a few minutes later she’s crossed her whole leg over his.

“Can I help you Assassin?” He asks, and she shrugs, and he can’t but notice that she is leaning against his side much more at the end of that action than she was before.

“Just thinking.”

He scoffs, “What about?”

She shrugs again, and this time she leans her head into his shoulder.

“We do this a lot.” She muses, “Card games and movie nights.”

“We do.” He agrees, “That’s what friends do.”

They had dimmed the lights for the movie, but the screen on the opposite wall lights up the room more than well enough for him to see her roll her eyes.

“Come on Len.” She scoffs, “You and me are not friends.”

She says it with so much assurance, he finds himself looking down at her and that proves to be a big mistake.

There’s something in her eyes, a want, a need, and the next thing he knows she’s bringing her other leg over and straddling his lap.

He swallows; his hands find her hips automatically. Soon her mouth his on his, and God, she tastes better than he ever thought she would.

“I’m not trying to be your friend.” She murmurs between kisses, and she grinds her hips down on him. “I’m trying to fuck you.”

He moans into her kiss, his fingers splaying across her hips while his lips work on matching hers.

Somewhere in his brain, however, he still has the sense to kick himself. This isn’t right. Maybe it could be, if they weren’t in such an in-between place right now. If they were just friends then he could easily let her fuck him as a distraction from her grief, and if they had actually talked about what happened before the Oculus and were properly a thing then he would also be more than willing to oblige her. But this isn’t how they should start.

So when she rolls her hips against him again he forces himself to pull back from her kiss.

“I don’t want to be your friend either.” He says, looking up and finding her eyes. “You know what I want.”

It’s like a bucket of cold water.

She stops, seeming to come back to herself out of some spell. For a moment he thinks she’s going to climb off him and they’ll be awkwardly watching another twenty minutes of We’re the Millers before she uses exhaustion as an excuse to slink away. But then she blinks away the tears and brings a hand up to cradle his jaw. She leans in and presses a different kind of kiss to his lips. It’s soft, tender, with no trace of her tongue and when she pulls back it’s by little more than a fraction of an inch he can still feel her breath warm on his face.

“I want that too.”

He searches her face for some sign that she’s lying, or at the very least only telling him what he wants to hear, but he can’t find any.

Then she kisses him again, and he is gone.

.

.

Waking up in the morning Sara feels two things. The first is oddly well rested, and then she remembers last night and why she’s slept so good and a knot forms in her stomach.

She rolls from her side to her back, effectively disturbing and waking Leonard next to her.

“Hey.” He mumbles, his voice still thick with sleep.

“Hey.” She returns, sighing. “Um, about what I said last night.”

She sees something flicker through his eyes then, something she doesn’t like.

“You were lonely and needed someone to lean on. I get it.” He says, and she rolls her eyes.

“No Snart.” She says firmly, “I meant it.”

He looks at her almost in surprise then, and so she sits up.

“I just wanted to apologize for jumping you like that. Maybe it wasn’t the best time, or the best way.”

He shrugs as he sits up too, still pressed close to her, so much so that his arms behind her is against her back and she finds she’s leaning into his side.

“Maybe not.” He agrees, “But we don’t seem to have the best track record with timing, do we?”

She chuckles, but despite that his face is still serious.

“I just want to be sure this is what you want.” He tells her, “If you just wanted to blow off steam after the funeral, I’d understand that.”

“That’s sweet Len.” She says, idly grabbing his hand and beginning to toy with his fingers. “But if that was all I wanted I would’ve jumped you the second I got back.”

He grins this time, and gives a little laugh.

“I just…” She trails, trying to sort through her thoughts. “Being at the funeral and seeing everything Laurel left unfinished, and after the close call at The Oculus, I don’t want that for us.”

She can feel the tears starting up in her eyes, and Leonard shifts, and brings that hand that’s been resting behind her up to cup her cheek, is eyes firm and so full of seriousness as he holds her gaze.

He doesn’t say anything. Instead he leans forward and presses and gentle kiss to the crown of her head.

“I don’t want that either.”

[isaacmcadoo]

I Know I Haven’t Been Perfect, But Give It Some Time (Not A Single Day Goes By Where You Don’t Cross My Mind)

A/N: I’ve been forgetting to post a lot of my recent fics here. But I genuinely haven’t been this pleased with one of my fics ever. This is brought to you thanks to @canary-warrior, who suggested I make a Cam/Yolanda friendship angst fic, and so this was born! Please ignore any mistakes, I’m not a great writer.

Yolanda Montez walked down the hallway arm in arm with her boyfriend, Henry King. She smiled kindly at everyone as she passed them, handing buttons to every one they walked passed. They finally stopped in front to talk to one of Henry’s football friends. 

Yolanda’s smile dimmed slightly, as her boyfriend removed his arm as he began discussing their weekend plans. She let her eyes wander to the other side of the hallway, where she caught sight of Cameron Mahkent. Her wide smile returned and she gently tapped Henry’s shoulder to get his attention.

“I’ll be right back.” He nodded, kissing her quickly on the cheek as she made her way to the other side of the hall.

“Hey.” She let out a giggle as the brunette jumped, turning to look at her.

“You’re going to vote for me, right, lab partner?” She asked as she handed him one of her buttons. Cameron let out a small chuckle, reaching for it.

“Of course, lab partner,” He attached the pin to his shirt, beaming at her. 

———

The first painting appeared in her locker the day after it happened. It wasn’t anything fancy, just a small square paper with a sunflower painted on it. She flipped it over to see if the artist had signed their work, they hadn’t.

Yolanda stared at the flower, slowly dragging her hand down it. She smiled. There was only one person she knew that could, or would, do something like this for her. Her eyes flickered to the opposite end of the hallway, where Cameron was in the middle of a very intense conversation with Joey Zarrick. At that moment, however, he looked up, and the pair made eye contact.

‘Thank you,’ she mouthed, clutching the painting to her heart. Cameron smiled widely, nodding. Yolanda slowly began the walk to her first class, the shame and hurt churning in her chest lessening slightly.

———

“Hey, Yolanda.” Cameron sat down next to the girl in chemistry. Yolanda looked up at him, confused.

“You know you don’t have to be my lab partner again this year? I can be the odd person out this year.” Cameron brushed her off.

“There is no way in hell. I NEED you as my lab partner, I will fail without you.”

Yolanda almost burst into tears. No one besides her brother had been so nice to her in the two and a half months since the incident.

“Oh, okay then,” Yolanda wiped her eyes quickly, praying Cameron hadn’t seen the tears.

“How was your summer?” He asked, turning to prop his head up on his fist and looking in her eyes. Yolanda looked as if she’d just sucked a whole bucket of lemons and shook her head.

“I haven’t been allowed to leave my room since it happened...” She fiddled with the end of her braid, not wanting to look him in the eye. What if he thought she was so lame for that?

“I’m sorry, your parents don’t let you leave your room?”

“Yeah, I’m allowed to go to school, and the dinner table, that’s it.”

“That’s fucked up.” Yolanda looked up at the young boy in shock.

“What did you just say?”

“I said that’s fucked up, you didn’t do anything wrong, why are you being punished?” When he looked her in the eye, she had to look away.  She’d let enough people see her cry to last a lifetime. She rubbed her eyes, blinking back the tears.

“Try telling that to my parents.”

“They actually think you did something wrong?” Yolanda risked a glance at his face, he looked horrified. The thought that Cameron was upset over the way her parents were treating her made the awful feeling she’d been carrying around for months disappear, if only for a moment.

“I guess?” Yolanda shrugged.

“Mr. Mahkent, Ms. Montez,” Mr. Jones stuck his head between the pair, making Yolanda jump, “Socialize on your own time.” He scolded, looking back and forth between them, shooting daggers with his glare. Yolanda sucked her lips in as she nodded. She let out a long exhale, glancing over her shoulder at him as he walked away.

She made eye contact with Cameron after a moment, and the two began giggling.

———

On Yolanda’s 16th birthday, she opened her locker and this time, it wasn’t just a painting that fell out. She picked up the blue envelope, a small smile on her face. Her family hadn’t said anything to her that morning when she left for school. But Cameron has remembered. Cameron always remembered her.

She glanced to her left and right before pulling her nail across the top of the envelope, cutting it open. She pulled the card out reverently, tracing her fingers down the painting on the front. It was her. She marveled at the detail, he had really taken the time to get every detail just right.

For the first time in a very long time, Yolanda didn’t mind if someone saw her smile. This was the most loved she’d felt in a long time.

Finally, she gently folded the card open, scanning the neat cursive letters.

Yolanda,

I know we aren’t super close, but it would’ve felt wrong not to at least get you a card. I hope you don’t think the painting is creepy. I mean, I have sat next to you in science everyday since 7th grade, so I feel like it’s not completely weird... Anyway, I know these past few months have been hard for you, but I hope the paintings have helped, even just for a minute. 

Anyway, I’m really happy we’re friends. 

Happy 16th Birthday,

Cameron Mahkent

Yolanda felt the tears roll down her cheeks, but she didn’t mind. A good happy cry was exactly what she needed right now, screw the people that would make fun of her.

———

Yolanda was used to the teasing, she really was. But whenever the new girl tried to step in, it just made it so much worse. Didn’t she get that? So when the blonde tried to say something about the big white letters across her locker, Yolanda just got frustrated. Did she not understand that by speaking up she was only making things harder for the brunette? Speaking up only fueled her classmates rage. Yolanda sighed as she walked to chemistry. Cameron could make this all better. He always did.

But, when the bell finally rang, Cameron was nowhere in sight. What had happened, where was he? 

Yolanda started panicking. Cameron was the person that helped make her feel normal, and if he wasn’t here, she didn’t think she could handle today. Not after that message on her locker. She put her head in her arms and tried not to let anyone see her cry.

After class, Yolanda was out of her seat in a flash. She jogged down the hall to her locker, to put her books away before lunch when she saw the words had been painted over. What had once been an ugly reminder of what she had done, was now a beautiful floral pattern, that Yolanda knew Cameron had spent a very long time on. She smiled to herself, running her fingers across the paint before slowly turning the lock. She swung the door open, and today, two paintings fell out. One of the tree on the hill from their elementary school, and the other was an artistic representation of the mess they had made in chemistry last week. Yolanda giggled, clutching the two paintings to her heart. 

Cameron was so sweet. He was going to kill her with his kindness.

———

The whole school felt quiet the day of Joey Zarrick’s memorial. And Yolanda felt guilty. She loved the silence. It meant not a single person was making fun of her. Not one. And when she remembered why no one was paying any attention to her, she felt a wave of shame overtake her. 

“Hey…” Cameron sat down next to Yolanda. She reached her hand up onto the table, squeezing his forearm. 

“I’m so sorry.” Cameron gave her a sad smile. 

“Thank you.”

———

Courtney Whitmore may have given Yolanda the means to take her life back when she asked her to be Wildcat, but Cameron’s kindness was the reason she was able to stand tall. She had needed both of them to be able to begin to heal. So when Courtney had texted her that Cameron had asked her to Homecoming, Yolanda let out a squeal of excitement. 

They were going to make the cutest couple. She sank back onto her bed, opening a text for Cameron.

Cam, it’s Yolanda

You finally got your phone back!

I did!

Courtney told me you asked her to homecoming?

Yeah

She’s really nice

I kind of like her

Yolanda made a face at her phone. Of course he did. This boy was so sweet. He deserved someone as sweet as Courtney.

Yeah, she is pretty awesome.

Yolanda let her phone fall to her side as she stared up at the ceiling. She smiled. Cameron and Courtney. Her two favorite people were going to make each other so happy. She felt her phone buzzing in her hand. Was Cameron calling her? She brought the phone up to check the caller ID. 

Pat Dugan flashed across the screen. 

Yolanda shot up, sliding her finger across the phone to answer the call.

“What’s wrong?”

———

After Courtney got hurt, Yolanda felt a rift begin to form between her and Cameron. The fight against the ISA had gotten so serious. Henry joined them, and almost died. But then he didn’t. Then Courtney’s real father, Sam Curtis had shown up and even though Yolanda had been hurt by her actions, she had to be there for her friend. 

When the ISA tried to kill Courtney and her family, they hid away in a cabin for a few hours. And then the fight had begun. So, by the time Yolanda could hang out with Cameron, she couldn’t bring herself to. After all, she had watched his father die and felt relief. How could she ever look at Cameron the same again?

The day Cameron finally returned to school after his father’s death, he dropped into the seat next to Yolanda, eyes red and puffy. He turned to her.

“Could you please come to the funeral?” Yolanda felt her heart beat increase. How could she tell him ‘No, I can’t’, when he looked like that? And he was asking so politely. Yolanda almost said yes. But then she remembered.

“Umm…” Yolanda nervously let her eyes flicker back and forth between her lab partner and the whiteboard. Somehow hoping that it would provide a way out. When it became clear she would have to get herself out of this mess she sighed, closing her eyes for a brief moment.

“I’ll have to ask my parents. You know how they are…” Cameron nodded his head slowly, turning his body to face the front of the classroom. Yolanda’s heart broke as he took detailed notes. No doodling in the corner. No leaning over to ask her what he had missed. Cameron deserved better than this.

———

When Yolanda caught sight of her friend across the room, she stopped dead in her tracks to stare. Which had been a terrible idea. It gave Sportsmaster the perfect opportunity to land a perfect shot to the middle of her back. She let out a painful cry, jumping forward. She spun to face her opponent. Snarling, she leapt for the older man, who easily sidestepped, dodging her claws. She growled in frustration, watching over her shoulder as Courtney pounced on him.

Yolanda let her eyes make their way back to Cameron. She felt her heart break as her eyes reached him just in time to see him send a gust of freezing wind in Rick’s direction, shoving him to the ground. She gritted her teeth, steeling herself for what she was about to do. 

Yolanda turned to the young boy and took a running start before leaping towards him. Her claws racked across his chest, tearing the dark material of his shirt and leaving deep gashes across his icy chest.

“What are you doing, Cameron?” She seethed. He let out an audible gasp, eyes going wide at the sound of her voice.

“Yolanda?” She scrunched her nose up in response.

How had she been stupid enough to believe Cameron was a good guy? He had been the rule this whole time, not the exception. She was starting to believe there were no exceptions. At that thought tears pricked the edges of her eyes.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know.” She snarled, baring her teeth, which made Cameron shrink back.

“I-I had no idea, Yolanda, I swear!” She almost believed him. Almost. But her hurt and anger prevented it.

“Sure you didn’t. I can’t believe I ever thought we were friends. She caught sight of a look of shock and hurt cross his face at her words, so she took the opportunity to flip over the boy, grabbing the collar of his jacket as she went, flinging him into the wall. He slid to the floor, motionless.

Yolanda turned, reaching out to pull Rick up.

“Are you okay?” She asked as she threw her arm around his waist. Rick nodded, wincing in pain.

“I’ll be okay.” Yolanda gave him a skeptical look.

“We should get you out of here.” She motioned for Courtney, who blasted Sportsmaster into the ceiling. The blonde hopped onto her staff before flying over to them. The cosmic staff scooped them up before quickly flying back to the garage.

———

“Yolanda, you don’t think I’m angry too?” Courtney attempted to put a comforting hand on her best friend’s shoulder, but Yolanda’s anger was so great, she just shrugged off the affection.

“You don’t understand,” The brunette spat, “Cameron was the only person who treated me normal. The ONLY one.” Rick looked down, sadly.

“I treated you normal...” Courtney once more reached for her friend.

“You weren’t there for it, Court. Cameron was. Cameron was there, and he didn’t let that stop us from being friends.

“He went out of his way to be kind to me, and now he...” Yolanda bit her lip. This was too much.

“I need to be alone.” 

“Yolanda!” She heard both Rick and Courtney call out to her, but she didn’t let it stop her. 

Yolanda walked home as quickly as she could. Slamming her door closed before falling to her bed. She let out a sob, clutching her pillow. Her hand brushed against something flat and smooth as she did. She pulled away from her pillow, gently bringing the item out. It was a notebook. It was THE notebook. She couldn’t believe she forgot about it. 

Gingerly, she flipped open the cover.

The tears streamed silently down her face as she began scanning each of the paintings. Her fingers lightly grazed over each of them as she turned the pages. When she made it to the card from her birthday she brought her hand back to her chest, making a disgusted face. 

The cool tears of sadness quickly became hot and angry at the sight. She snatched the thick paper tearing her face down the middle. She threw the halves away from herself, taking deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing. She closed her eyes, bringing her sleeve up to wipe away the tears. 

Yolanda looked back down at the notebook. It had made her so happy for so long, now, looking down at it, all she wanted to do was scream. So she did. And she chucked the book as hard as she could against the wall. She watched as most of the tape was ripped from the pages, making the paintings fluttered out. 

The one person who had been there for her, and he wound up joining the ISA. How had she been so stupid? She fell face first onto her bed once more. She screamed into her bedding until she felt her throat go horse. 

Finally she settled in on her knees. The tears had subsided, but now there was a hot spike of anger pushing into her chest. She want to punch Cameron in his stupid face.

“Stupid Cameron, making me think he cared. That he was a nice guy. Ha.” She muttered, stepping down to her floor. She needed to get ready for bed. When she caught sight of her ripped face on the floor, she hesitated. The spike that had been digging into her chest softened for just a moment.

He had to at least have cared a little bit, right?

Wrong. 

The spike was back with renewed force as she turned and walked into her bathroom.

———

When Cameron came to, his chest was wet and warm and his head hurt. He slowly opened his eyes. Ouch. Promptly, he shut them again. 

“Get up, kid.” Cameron heard Larry, but it sounded as though he were speaking through water, garbled and unclear.

“What... What happened?” Cameron slowly began sitting up, reaching to clutch the back of his head. He kept his eyes shut tight. Not willing to open them just yet.

“We got our asses handed to us, is what happened!” Issac fumed, angrily brushing his hand through his hair. Cameron blinked rapidly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light. He looked up at the pair standing over him. Sportsmaster’s right eye was swollen shut and he was riddled with cuts and bruises. Issac didn’t look much better. His lip was split and swollen where Hourman had punched him.

Wait, if Courtney was Stargirl, and Yolanda was Wildcat, did this mean Rick Tyler was Hourman? Cameron’s head spun at the realization, he squeezed his eyes shut once more, hoping that would stop the motion. He brought a hand up to hold his chest. At the feel of rough cloth he glanced down. So that’s why his chest was wet. The four slices Yolanda had cut into his chest were now wrapped in bandages, that was oozing blood. He let out a silent prayer of thanks that his teammates had thought to dress his wounds.

“What happened?” Issac crosses his arms across his chest angrily, “I saw you freeze up when Wildcat came at you.” Cameron attempted to stammer out an answer. 

What was he supposed to say? He couldn’t tell them about Yolanda. He couldn’t. She might not think that they were friends after finding out he was a part of the ISA, but Yolanda had been his only real friend. He had to keep her safe.

“They just caught me off guard. I thought Larry was getting Wildcat.” Cameron hoped that was enough for them. He let his eyes flick back and forth between their unreadable faces.

“I can’t be everywhere at once, kid, you’ve gotta be prepared!” Larry joined Issac in crossing his arms.

“I know, I’m sorry, it was my first real battle with the JSA, it won’t happen again.” 

“It better not.” Larry and Issac both turned heading toward the exit. Cameron let out a sigh of relief, lying back down. He stared up at the ceiling for a few silent moments.

“What happens now?”

———

Henry was the first to catch sight of Cameron when they stormed the ISA’s new base of operation. When he saw him, the redhead ran straight for him, shoving him up against the wall.

“How dare you!” He spoke through gritted teeth, looking up at the brunette. Cameron returned the look with a sneer.

“What do you mean, Henry?” Cameron’s voice had so much venom, Henry accidentally let him drop to the floor.

“I mean you broke Yolanda’s heart, and you’re going to pay for that.” Henry clenched his fists, preparing to send the boy flying to the ceiling. Hoping to put the powerful villain out of commission. But the other boy once again took him by surprise by laughing. It was a bitter laugh that stunned Henry to his core. What part of this did Cameron find amusing?

“You are one to talk about breaking Yolanda’s heart.” Henry growled. Why did Cameron have to bring that up?

“You destroyed her, I was the only person who would even look at her! I’ve been waiting to be able to do something to you for months because of what you did!” Cameron hit the boy with a handful of ice spikes, making him go flying.

As the ginger hit the opposite wall, Cameron surveyed the room. His eyes finally caught sight of Yolanda’s figure. Trying to slice Cindy in two. Cameron felt his heart stop as he watched Cindy duck behind her, twisting around to stab the girl in the back. Her cry of pain got his heart beating again and he rushed towards them. He sent a gust of frigid air in the direction of the two girls that sent them both flying backwards. 

“Yolanda!” He heard Rick shout, as he slid over to her on his knees. He laid her across his legs, the deep wound Cindy had left facing the ceiling.

“Is she breathing?” Cameron stood over the pair, heart racing as he tried to get a glimpse of her face. Rick brought her up to a sitting position as he pulled her closer.

“Get the hell away.”

Cameron took a few steps back. Terrified of the look on Rick’s face. 

Cameron let his eyes fall down to his friend’s back, red blood oozing from the deep gash. What had he done? This was his fault. He shouldn’t have continued to fight. Once he realized that these were his friends he should’ve stopped. 

Cameron took a step back as Rick flipped the girl over, gingerly lifting her in his arms. He rushed toward the exit.

“Call a hospital!” Rick shouts at Beth as he passes by. She nodded, speaking to that invisible voice she had been the entire fight. 

Cameron watched as Courtney managed to bash Tigress in the back of the head with her staff. She then grabbed Henry’s limp body lying on the floor, struggling to get him over her shoulder. Finally, she sat on the staff and it flew away, Beth grabbing it as it flew past her. 

Cameron was left standing there, unsure of what to do. 

“Cameron!” Cindy snarled, kicking herself up and brushing herself off, “What the hell was that?” Cameron turned to face her, then he turned to look at Tigress, Issac and Sportsmaster. He couldn’t do this anymore. What WAS he even doing? 

Then it hit him. He was doing this for his dad. Because he thought that’s what he would’ve wanted him to do. But Cameron didn’t want to. Cameron wanted to paint and go to school. And hang out with Yolanda. 

Yolanda.

“I’m done,” He glared between the two older ISA members, daring them to stop him.

“You can’t just leave!” Issac shouted.

“I can, and I am, do you really want to try to stop me?” Cameron began to re-freeze himself, a cold look passing over his eyes. Issac took a step back.

“That’s what I thought,” Cameron began to thaw once more. 

He tried to keep up an air of confidence as he walked out. But deep down, he was terrified Sportsmaster or Tigress would kill him. It wasn’t until he opened his front door he felt at ease.

———

Six years later...

Cameron was sitting on the quad, sketching out the scene in front of him, when his pencil was knocked out of his hand by a frisbee.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Cameron looked up in confusion. He knew that voice.

“Yolanda?”

“Cameron?” Yolanda stopped short, hand outstretched towards the yellow disc.

“Holy shit, it is you! How have you been?” Yolanda tentatively straightened out, fiddling with her braid.

“Not too bad… You, um…” Yolanda glanced down at his sketch pad. An awkward silence passed over them for a few moments. Finally, she broke it, speaking softly.

 “You never said goodbye.” Cameron’s face fell as he looked down, picking up his pencil.

“I...uh… I didn’t think you’d want to see me…” Cameron gestured up at her, “After all, I helped put you in the hospital.”

“I was going to the hospital before you blasted me anyway,” she brushed it off like it was no big deal. Even though it was. It was a huge deal, didn’t she know that?

“Yolanda…”

“Cameron…” she teased.

“One second.” She turned, throwing the frisbee towards her other friends, “I’ll be back in a minute!” She shouted before plopping onto the grass next to Cameron.

“What you did… Joining the ISA… It hurt. A lot at first.” She pulled at the grass.

“But after you left, I realized, you didn’t do it to hurt me.”

“How do you know that for certain?” Cameron bumped her shoulder, making her laugh.

“Because, I realized I knew you a lot better than I initially thought,” she stated matter of factly, “And I know that you were probably doing it through some sort of loyalty to your father. Who you didn’t owe anything to, by the way.” Cameron brought his eyes up to meet her’s.

“So…” he spoke after a few more moments of silence.

“So… Do you want to get coffee sometime?” Yolanda hugged her knees to her chest, “So we can really catch up?” Cameron offered her a wide grin.

“I would love that.”

[theweekinarrowfic]

Completed Arrow Multichapters on AO3, May 12-25, 2019

NOTE:  I’m now crossposting to https://theweekinarrowfic.dreamwidth.org/

Need more Arrow in your life?  Why not try one of the multchapter fanfics recently completed by our talented fic writers? (Two-week post because I was traveling for a job interview last weekend!)

Olicity

Star Stuff by imfallingforyoureyes102 (2/2, 25 May 2019 ) - “The nitrogen in our DNA,” Felicity pauses, her eyes turned to the ceiling as if in thought, “the calcium in our teeth, the iron in our blood,” Oliver’s turns away from the window to face her, “The carbon in our apple pies were made in the interiors of collapsing stars. We are made of star stuff. You are made of star stuff." Felicity’s face is wide open, just like she has always been with him, and for a second Oliver thinks – no, he believes, without a doubt, that if he is made of stars, Felicity is the sun. (Or, Walter Steele doesn't really know what to think of his stepson's budding relationship with his executive assistant - he doesn't want to think about what it means. But then he happens upon Oliver on the verge of falling into the darkest corners of his mind and watches as Felicity slowly and surely pulls him back to the light.) Part 5 of On the Outside Looking In

Oliver the //pseudo// Artist by Vixx2pointOh (6/6, 22 May 2019) - Despite Oliver's intentions to recreate the habitat of a sloth, his 13yo sister had somehow convinced him to drive her in the middle of the day to what seemed like a deserted high school.He ends up in an art class, where he gets more than he bargained for. Part 11 of Oliver The ...

Tu n'es plus seul by Amelia_Queen (8/8, 22 May 2019) - Depuis son retour de l’île, Oliver a trouvé une très mauvaise solution pour gérer ses émotions. C’est un secret de plus que sa famille ne doit surtout pas découvrir.

A Shot in the Dark by OliversMuse (3/3, 21 May 2019) - Part of the Silent Killer's series. Oliver and Felicity try to solve the case of a mother that was shot in her car on the way to work. Part 3 of Silent Killers

The Microchip Chronicles by CSM (10/10, 20 May 2019) - Post 713. Follows the next nine months of Felicity’s pregnancy.

What was my daddy like? by melicitysmoak (8/8, 16 May 2019) - [Future Spec Fic, takes off from the Season 7 flashforwards, canon until 7x16 only]Mia Smoak grows up without ever knowing her father, Oliver Queen, also known as the Green Arrow. She loves her mother, Felicity Smoak, and secretly admires her, but their relationship is rocky. They get separated like before, but this time Mia is afraid that her mom is in real danger, so she sets off to find her. In an unexpected turn of events, she meets her half-brother William and his companions, who are also trying to unravel the mystery of Felicity's apparent demise and why the genius wife of the former Green Arrow brought them all together after almost two decades. Mia has been isolated for most of her young life, but the few relationships she makes helps her put together the puzzle pieces of what her father was like. It's up to her to decide what to make of it all.

The last time they're together by CaptainSammyAngel (2/2, 13 May 2019) - Oliver and Felicity are on borrowed time... the time to honor the deal with the monitor has come and this is how they spend their last night together. Part 4 of Mia's journey

Felicity Takes a Holiday by BstnStrg13 (25/25, 12 May 2019) -  Frustrated by Oliver's apparent indifference, Felicity takes a solo trip to NYC where she meets with unexpected dangers. Is it super-soldiers amped up on Mirakuru, or Beasts created by Muirfield? Starts at the end of Season 2; a story of how Oliver comes to realize that he is in love with Felicity, told with help from CW's Beauty and the Beast and a whole lot of Diggle.

Other Ships/Characters

Starting Something by justafandomfollower (team-centric, 13/13, 23 May 2019) - Oliver Queen returns to Star City with the intent to right his father’s wrongs and stop the poison that has infiltrated his city. He doesn’t need to deal with Superman getting upset about his methods and he doesn’t expect the allies he makes along the way. Part 1 of The Justice League

The Canary's Legacy by Bl4ckHunter (8/8, 22 May 2019) -  Sara gets thrown into an alternate future as she copes with unsettling truth.

unexpectations by brandywine421 (Matt Murdock/Oliver, 2/2, 21 May 2019) - "Do I have to?" Matt asked, dragging his feet behind Foggy and Theo and their mom. Five years in, he should consider Anna his mom, but that would mean he had to consider Ed his dad and he already had a dad. "We paid for your PSATs so you have to suffer the consequences of your grade," Anna replied, entirely too cheerily. He didn't think that was totally fair but the mandatory soul-bond test for college applicants wasn't fair either. Apparently his grade meant he was going to go to college, but still - today sucked. "Aren't you excited to meet yours? I'm totally stoked to meet mine," Foggy beamed - Matt knew what 'beaming' sounded like, Foggy had been his best friend longer than he'd been his brother. Matt would never beam. *AU for everything ever. Matt & Oliver are reluctant soulmates - at first.

Karry Universe: Hunt for the Totems by KarryBeta; KarryMaster (Barry Allen/Kara Danvers, side pairing Alex Danvers/Sara, 16/16, 19 May 2019) - With someone after the totems its up to the Justice League to find them and to find the people destined to wear them. Part 9 of Karry Universe

Nightmare by molmcmahon (Harry Potter/Oliver, 6/6, 18 May 2019) - 5 Times Someone Finds Out about Harry and Oliver and 1 Time Someone Already Knew. Part 2 of Devil's Verse

Dear Friend, by Ray_Writes (Laurel/Oliver, 9/9, 16 May 2019) - When Felicity decides to get serious about Ray, she knows it won’t be a good idea for Oliver to be hanging around. So she turns to the world of online dating to keep him distracted. Unknown to the both of them, over the summer Joanna had set Laurel up with an online dating account in the hopes that her friend could move on from past failed relationships. There’s only one way this can end.

Secrets, Lies and Superheroes by laxit21 (Bucky Barnes/Felicity, 90/90, 12 May 2019) - Being a vigilante (or on the team of one) is complicated enough. When Oliver, Felicity and Diggle rescue Lyla from a Russian gulag, Felicity’s life gets even more complicated. Months later, after the fall of SHIELD, one of those complications comes knocking on her door. You can find me on Tumblr at: laxit21.tumblr.com

Selling Your Reason (Will Not Bring You Through) by backinthebox (Nyssa/Sara, 4/4, 12 May 2019) - "I heard you disbanded the League." "My father's League had been tainted, so yes." Nyssa allowed, even if she held back the question of who had informed Sara, since information on her well-being was apparently not among the things Oliver Queen and his ilk were sharing with Sara. Instead she returned, "I heard you've been busy saving the world." Part 2 of Holy Water Cannot Help You Now

High School and Heroes by violetwolfraven (Dinah Drake/Laurel, 2/2, 12 May 2019) - In a High School AU, Dinah Drake develops a crush on the new nerdy girl, Laurel. Navigating their friends’ disfunctional romances and school life in general, there is a lot of drama.

[ckerouac]

Fic: Operation Secret Santa

Klaine Advent 2017 Day 22: Width

Summary: After finally meeting Sexy Santa in the last chapter, today we go back and find out what really happened at Kurt’s when Blaine took his drunk ass home weeks ago.  (2800 words)

Also on AO3

Chapter 22

A few weeks ago…

“So it’s an entire bar decked out in Christmas decorations?” Sam asked as he pulled his coat closed against the cold.

Blaine nodded.  “Yeah, it’s a whole thing.  Decorations, themed drinks, I think they keep one of the tvs on Hallmark.  Last year they had a sleigh you could take pictures in, along with a full sized cutout of Beyonce wearing a Santa hat.”

“And it’s worth standing out here for an hour and a half to get in?”

Blaine turned and looked back at the line snaking its way down the sidewalk.  The Miracle on 10th Street, or the Yellow Canary as it was known for the other eleven months out of the year, was the most popular spot in town.  And it only got more so once they went full on Christmas bar December 1st.  Floor to ceiling Christmas.  It was an Instagram paradise.  Plus, it was a fun excuse to drink festively colored mixed drinking without the judgmental glare of other bar patrons.  Not that that was the main selling point for Blaine, but it certainly didn’t hurt.  “Definitely,” he promised.  “You’re gonna love it.  It’s run by the same people who did the Game of Thrones pop-up bar last year.”

Sam’s face lit up.  “That was amazing,” he exclaimed.  “They had the throne, and there was a guy dressed up like a direwolf, oh my god and there was that drink called ‘The North Remembers’...”

“Which if I remember correctly, you didn’t remember anything after two of those,” Blaine pointed out.

“Yeah, they mix them strong here,” Sam said.  “I used to date one of the bartenders here.  I never could tell whether she added an extra shot to my drinks because she liked me, because she didn’t like me, or because she just forgot and lost count.”

“I heard there’s a drink here that’s basically chocolate, liquor, and regret,” Blaine continued.  There was a wave of people coming out now so hopefully that meant that they would be letting in a new wave of people.  They really should’ve left work early to get in line.  “Cooper had one a couple nights ago.  Apparently they’ve hired him for some gig on Christmas Eve.”

“How much clothing is he going to have on?”

Blaine shook his head.  “I didn’t ask.  I didn’t want to know.”

“Oh my god, it’s BLAINE!”

Blaine turned his head at the exclamation of his name and saw a couple of their coworkers running towards them in the line.  Well, one was running.  “Hey Kurt, hey Mercedes.  You guys just getting out?”

Kurt basically skidded to a stop in front of them and whipped his head back with a flourish.  “It was amazing, as always,” he declared.  “If anyone can drink in there without becoming overwhelmed by the Christmas spirit, I don’t want to know them.  I simply don’t want to know them!”

Apparently you get a few drinks in Kurt and he became incredibly talkative.  Blaine wasn��t sure he’d heard him utter more than a couple sentences at a time at work, so this was a change.  “Yeah, I went last year, but I haven’t been in this year yet.”

Kurt reached out and grabbing him by the arm.  “Blaine, you just have to go inside.  You have to let the Christmas spirit wash over your body.  It’s life affirming.  The season of change and love and glitter and sweaters.  Who doesn’t love sweaters?  Sweaters are one of the greatest things ever invented, and although I’d caution anyone against too much sweater festivity, it’s something good to embrace.”

“I am a fan of the Christmas sweater,” Blaine laughed.

“I know this,” Kurt said.  “You had that amazing reindeer sweater.  It shouldn’t work, but it totally did.  And I commend you for the fashion risk.  Look at you, kicking Christmas ass and taking names.”

Blaine wasn’t 100% sure what was happening, but this drunken Kurt was full of so much joy it was actually contagious.  “Thanks.  I love that sweater.  Um, are you ok?”  

“Sure, why do you ask?”

Blaine watched as Kurt started to sway and held onto Mercedes’ arm like a lifeline.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Hey Blaine,” Sam said.  “The line is moving.”

“I just need to take him home,” Mercedes explained.  “He just needs to sleep it off.”

“Do you need a hand?” Blaine asked before he realized what he was saying.  They’d waited for almost two hours to get in, and the line was finally moving again, but Kurt seemed like a handful when he was drunk and it wouldn’t be fair to just leave Mercedes to fend for herself.  Besides, Kurt was kind of cute when he rambled.  “He looks like he needs a second hand.”

“I don’t want to take you out of line,” Mercedes said.

“No!” Kurt interjected.  “No, you let him take me home.  I am going home with God’s most perfect ass, so you let him take me home.”

Blaine was pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to overhear Kurt say that, but since Kurt’s volume was continually getting louder, there was no way to avoid it.  “Yeah, it’s fine.  Here, you take my place in line, introduce Sam to the Christmas bar, and I’ll take Kurt home.”  Was this really the best way to spend some time with the cute guy down the hall, Blaine thought, but he didn’t have long to consider before Mercedes draped Kurt’s arm over Blaine’s shoulder and stepped into line.  “Didn’t have to ask you twice,” he chuckled.

“Nope, you boys have fun,” Mercedes said.  “I know better to argue with him when he has that tone of voice.”

As Blaine led Kurt slowly towards his car, he had the realization that he didn’t exactly know where Kurt lived.  Or his last name.  Guess there was no better way to get to know someone than escorting them home to bed.  His brother claimed it was because Blaine liked saving people, but why was it so wrong to be helpful?  “So, you remember where you live or do I need to find your license?”

“I’m just drunk, I’m not passed out,” Kurt pointed out.  “And you didn’t have to help me with this.  I could call an Uber.  Or find some cute guy at the bar to take me home.”  He glanced over at Blaine, considering.  “Outside the bar counts.  I guess I did that one.”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t leave me a choice,” Blaine laughed.  “C’mon, let’s get you home.”

***

As soon as they reached the apartment, Blaine was completely enamoured with Kurt.  Sure, he was drunk right now, but he was also funny, and smart, and still really sharp for drinking ‘a bucket full of Christmas cheer and liquor’.  His words.  It was a shame he’d gotten transferred onto Kurt’s team at work.  Sure, it’s how he’d ended up on that floor and that coffee bar near his desk, but the rules against dating within your own project team were incredibly strict.  If he was on another floor, he’d ask this guy out in a heartbeat.  

Probably already had a boyfriend, though.  A guy like this didn’t stay single for long.  

“Home sweet home!” Kurt announced as he pushed off of Blaine’s shoulder and started pacing the width of the living room.  

“Are you… counting steps to your couch?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shook his head.  “No, just trying to figure out how to ask you what you’d like for the Secret Santa exchange at work without actually asking you, because it’s supposed to be a secret.”

“Are you my Secret Santa?” Blaine asked.

Kurt sighed.  “Yes, but shhhhhh I’m not supposed to tell you.  So you can’t tell you that I told you.”

“My lips are sealed,” Blaine promised.  “I won’t tell me what you said.  But I will ask you to help me with mine.  I have Rachel Berry and I am completely at a loss.  She’s...”

“Intense,” Kurt supplied.  “Yes, I’ll help you with her.  No one should be forced to conquer the Berry alone.”  He turned around and dropped backwards onto the couch.  He’s lucky he had good aim because, damn, he just fell back like he was expecting Iron Man to pull up and save his ass off the top of a building.  “So what do you do exactly?” he continued.  “I mean, I’ve seen you around, hoped to talk to you, and I still don’t know what you actually do.”

“Finance,” Blaine answered.  “Is there water in your fridge?”

“Bottles in the door.  So you, like, make sure I have money to work on my work?”

Blaine rummaged through the fridge and procured two bottles of water.  When he looked up, Kurt was sprawled out, one leg over the back of the couch and the other dangling over the side.  Which was impressive considering how tight his jeans looked.  Not that Blaine was looking.  But… he was looking.  “Well, I make sure that the money we have is properly allocated so that yes, you have money for the project,” he explained.  “Ugh, it sounds even duller when I explain it out loud.  But I’m hoping to move up into project management.  Take in the whole operation instead of just my little part.”

“Yeah, it sounds super dull,” Kurt laughed.  He reached his hand out and Blaine gave him one of the bottles.  “Did you want to be a finance guy growing up?”

“Hell no,” Blaine laughed.  “I wanted to sing.  Which I still do, but you have to pay the rent some how, right?”

“What does your super hot boyfriend think of that?”

“My boyfriend?”

Kurt turned and fixed Blaine with a ‘look’.  “Yeah, the super hot guy in the photo on your desk.  The one who looks like he’d bang you naked in a field of lilacs and you’d only be able to reply with ‘please sir, could I have another’.”

Oh, god, the mental image.  It burned.  “Ew, no,” Blaine said.  “Cooper?  Cooper’s my brother.  I’ve seen him naked enough for one lifetime.  Actually, most of the tri-county area has,” he grumbled.  Kurt just continued to look at him.  He really did have the most interesting eyes.  Blaine sighed again.  “Cooper has a side hustle as a bachelorette party stripper.  And for some reason he’s incredibly popular and he makes a lot of money doing it and he’s booked solid.  I don’t get it.”

“Because, and I mean this with all sincerity Blaine,” Kurt said slowly.  Deliberately.  “He looks like a goddamn Disney prince, and every little straight girl and gay boy imagined what it would be like to get plowed on the beach by Prince Eric.”

“He’s not that attractive,” Blaine insisted.  God, if that wasn’t the conversation he’s had with ever girl friend and every boyfriend he’s ever brought back to the house.  Every time he thought he’d gotten over being ‘the lesser Anderson brother’, someone had to point out that given the choice, they’d pick the taller, sexier, charismatic Cooper.  And it’s not like he could blame them -- Cooper was incredibly hard to dislike.  And he loves his brother, he really does.  He just doesn’t need to get reminded of how great Cooper is by every since guy he meets.  

“Not to say that you aren’t attractive,” Kurt continued.  “I only saw Cooper’s face.  You have an ass that just refuses to quit.  It’s all round and bouncy.  Here, give me a spin.”

“Are you serious?”

Kurt motioned for him to spin.  

“I’m pretty sure this could qualify as sexual harassment,” Blaine said, as he gave Kurt a small spin.  Maybe a second spin with his coat hiked up so that Kurt could actually see his ass.  And maybe a smile over his shoulder to make sure that Kurt was watching.  Dammit, Kurt really was cute.  

“Yeah, you got the goods too,” Kurt decided.  “Should I not tell you how hot your brother is?”

“I’d prefer if you didn’t,” Blaine said.

Kurt leaned his head back and considered.  “Are you jealous?” he asked.  “Cause people tell you that all the time?”

Blaine shrugged.  “I dunno, it’s not great when a cute guy starts talking about how hot my brother is.  But I’ve heard it ever since I was old enough to walk, so…”

“Ugh, that sucks,” Kurt said.  “Sorry.  That’s totally rude.  You deserve better.  You are hot, Mr. Anderson.  Hotter than that weird looking guy on your desk.  Ew.  Who would ever want something like that?  You should know that you’re just as hot as your brother.  Repeat after me, I’m just as hot as my brother.”

“Kurt…”

“Repeat!”

“I’m just as hot as my brother,” Blaine repeated dutifully.

“Good,” Kurt said.  “You’re too great a guy to compare yourself to him and find yourself lacking.”

It was a long time since someone told that to Blaine.  And Kurt seemed so sincere, even if he was filterless from the alcohol.  But maybe this was just him after hours?  Blaine didn’t really know, but he did know that he wanted to get to know Kurt better.  This guy… this guy was a catch.

“I bet you’d be an even better stripper than your brother.”

“I mean, I did take a couple lessons with Cooper,” Blaine admitted.

“Whaaaaat?” Kurt perked up.  “Are you serious?”

“It was pole dancing, and it was just a couple of times,” Blaine laughed.  “It’s a good workout.  Hey, if you want to go to Coop’s girl, I’ll give you her number.  You can get just as good as I am.”

“I might take you up on that,” Kurt said, his eyes closing as he took a deep breath.

“Yeah, I mean, we could… make a date of it,” Blaine suggested.  As long as it wasn’t serious, would would turn them in to HR?  “And go find a Secret Santa present.”

“Yes, because if we wait too long, the elves will find me and take me away for spilling secrets,” Kurt giggled as he stretched his arms above his head.  His eyes were still closed.  He wasn’t going to be awake for much longer.  

“I don’t know about the elves, but I think you need to get some sleep,” Blaine said warmly.  “Where’s your bathroom?”  Kurt motioned down the hallway.  Blaine slipped back in there and opened the medicine cabinet.  He was tempted to rummage, just out of curiosity and the fact that he wanted to know everything he could about Kurt, but he found the bottle of aspirin he was looking for and closed the cabinet door.  

Kurt, for his part, was already asleep by the time Blaine came back.  He took the bottle of water from Kurt’s hand and placed it and the aspirin on the side table.  He’d make sure to text him in the morning just to make sure he was feeling okay.  “Goodnight, Kurt,” he said softly.

...but apparently not softly enough.

“Are you leaving?” Kurt said suddenly, his eyes jerking open.  

“Yeah,” Blaine said.  “It’s getting late.  I need to head to bed myself.  I put your water and some aspirin on the side table for the morning.”

“Oh, thank you.”  Kurt swung both legs off the couch and stood up surprisingly smoothly.  “You are just so damn thoughtful.”  He walked over to Blaine and wrapped his arms around him in a tight hug.  “I’m so lucky to know you.  I want to know you better.”

Kurt smelled like candy canes and a warm fireplace, Blaine realized.  And had arms he wanted to stay wrapped up in all night.  Can’t do that tonight.  Get to know the guy first.  You have to let go, he scolded himself.  “Me too,” he admitted.  “So we’ll go Secret Santa shopping.”

“It’s a date,” Kurt replied, giving him one last squeeze before letting go.  “Oh, wait, give me your phone,” he said, grabbing it as soon as Blaine pulled it from his pocket and entering his number.  “Now you can text me.”

“Now I can text you,” Blaine said with a smile.  This night was better and better.  “I’m gonna head out.  I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight Blaine.”

“Goodnight Kurt.”

Blaine waited outside once the door closed until he heard the deadbolt lock and Kurt shuffle back into the apartment, hopefully to collapse onto his bed and get some sleep.  It wasn’t the way he thought his night was going to go, but dammit if he wasn’t thrilled this was the way it went.

After all, even if it was just for Secret Santa shopping… he had a date.

[chocolatequeennk]

To Bring Them Home, 5/6

Losing Rose only a month after they bonded hurt more than the Doctor could have imagined. Then he discovered he’d lost more than he’d realised, and he was determined to bring them home–Rose and their unborn baby. But how could he do that, without two universes collapsing?

Ten x Rose, pregnancy fic

The Tenth Doctor gets through the Void with help from the Ninth Doctor, and the family is reunited at last

This story is part of The Course of True Love, following With This Ring.

This was written for the Doomsday prompts on @doctorroseprompts​, and the "helping hand” prompt on @legendslikestardust​

Betaed by @lastbluetardis​ and @pellaaearien​

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4

The Doctor’s hands were shaking with excitement as he knotted his tie. As soon as the possibility of seeking help from his past self had occurred to him, timelines had shifted. There were still variables, nothing was set in stone… but that decision had opened up the possibility of bringing Rose home.

He peered in the mirror and fixed his hair so it would stick up just like Rose liked it. If this worked, he would see her again before the day was over. Once he was satisfied with the overall effect, he shrugged into his brown suit jacket, only taking time to do one button before darting out of the room.

He laughed as he spun in circles around the TARDIS console. Finding himself would actually be the simplest part of the whole day—he’d known exactly when to go as soon as the idea had struck him. Rose had spent a weekend at home for a cousin’s wedding, and he, grumpy git that he was, had resisted all her attempts to be her date for the weekend. Instead, he’d gone to Enesta, a planet with the perfect atmosphere for TARDIS maintenance.

The TARDIS flew faster and more smoothly than she’d done in years, and the Doctor laughed again. “We’re going to bring them home, old girl,” he crowed, stretching across the console and patting the time rotor. The lights flashed in response, and then they landed.

Inside a different TARDIS, a different Doctor’s ears pricked. The sound was muffled, coming through the closed doors, but he would have sworn…

The TARDIS doors swung open, and a pretty boy in pinstripes and the coat Janis Joplin had given him burst into the ship. He immediately raced for the console and started spinning around, adjusting the controls without even saying hello.

“Oi!” the Doctor said. “My TARDIS, if you don’t mind—have you lost your manners as well your fashion sense?”

The other man didn’t pause, but he did look up at him, and the Doctor took a step back when he saw the barely contained grief in his brown eyes. “Rude and not ginger,” he said, his lips twisted in a miserable half smile.

The TARDIS chimed, and the other Doctor sighed and pulled his hands away from the console. “Right, we don’t have time for the usual insults about wardrobe and who’s more clever. I need your help to rescue Rose.”

Every snarky comment the Doctor had prepared evaporated in an instant. “What happened?” he barked.  

The older Doctor leaned heavily on the console. “She’s gone. Trapped in a parallel universe.” His shoulders heaved as he took a shuddering breath. “Pregnant with our child.”

The Doctor shoved his shock aside. His older self was right—they didn’t have time for bickering and debating. Telepathic contact was vital for a developing Gallifreyan mind. Without it, the foetus’ telepathy would turn inward, leaving them handicapped for the rest of their life.

Even if Rose had somehow been able to share the bond he could now sense in the other Doctor’s mind, she was still human. There was no way she could offer their baby the support their growing mind needed.

“Right,” he said, shoving the other Doctor away from the console. “I’ll take care of things here. You get back into your TARDIS and get ready to go through the Void as soon as the wormhole opens.”

The older Doctor smiled, and some of the tension around his eyes eased. “I’ve already set the exit vector for the correct parallel universe,” he said, pointing to the navigation panel.

“Good. Now get out of here, and bring them home.”  

oOoOoOoOo

For once, Rose woke up without her alarm clock, and with a smile on her face. She tried to remember her dream, to figure out why she was so happy today, but she couldn’t pin the feeling down to anything more than a general sense that something good was going to happen today.

In the car on the way to Torchwood, the baby started turning somersaults. Rose leaned against the back seat as the driver took them into London, and rested a hand on her six-months-pregnant belly.

Immediately, the baby’s mind clamoured against her own, and suddenly Rose was buzzing with anticipation. Something was coming. She could feel it as strongly as she had at Canary Wharf before she’d been trapped here, only this time, the feeling was light and happy instead of heavy and foreboding.

Rose frowned; the Doctor had told her she was picking up on his own time senses, but he was still on the other side of the Void. She didn’t know much about Gallifreyan gestation, but she doubted the baby’s senses had developed enough to detect changes in the timelines.

Which meant the time senses were her own. “I see everything. All that is, all that was, all that ever could be.” She nodded and let out a slow breath. If Bad Wolf had changed her enough to give her time senses, it would also explain how she’d gotten pregnant when the Doctor told her it would be impossible.

Rose didn’t know how to read timelines, but in her mind, a major positive shift in her future could mean only one thing: the Doctor was coming. She tried not to get her hopes up, but by midmorning, the feeling was too strong to ignore. She cancelled the rest of her meetings for the day, then went through all her active files and marked them with potential replacements. Her desk was clear by lunch, and after a quick call to Pete, she left Torchwood for what she hoped would be the last time.

oOoOoOoOo

Back in his own TARDIS, the Doctor turned the scanner on so he would know the moment his past self opened the wormhole to Pete’s World. While he waited, he cleaned the console, knowing that a speck of dust in the wrong place could throw their landing off by a few thousand miles, or a few years. He shuddered at the possibility of arriving late; it was bad enough that he’d missed the first few months of Rose’s pregnancy.

All the fears he’d managed to set aside for the day crept back into his mind. Inter-species pregnancies could be dangerous, and there was absolutely no data on a human-Time Lord pregnancy. Rose or their baby could be severely at risk, and he hadn’t been there to help.

And what about external risks? What if Torchwood discovered she was carrying an alien baby? Torchwood in this universe had followed the motto, “If it’s alien, it’s ours.” What about the Pete’s World Torchwood?

An alert on the console flashed before he could work himself up any further. The Doctor’s gaze swung to the monitor, which now showed an open wormhole through the Void. Despite all his concerns, he grinned and reached for the controls.

To his surprise, the time rotor started moving on its own. After blinking a few times, the Doctor laughed and grabbed onto the railing as his ship flew them into a parallel universe—one that contained his whole universe.

The engine whirred unhappily at the strain of trans-dimensional travel, and the grinding noises made the Doctor wince and look worriedly at the console. But the ship seemed to be holding together better than she had the first time they’d gone through the Void, so he held on tighter and let her fly.

Finally, they landed with a bone-rattling thunk. The Doctor took a few deep breaths, then ran down the ramp and threw the door open.

As soon as he stepped out into the cool evening air, the pain in the Doctor’s mind eased. Rose was here—Rose, and a tiny, still developing consciousness that he recognised immediately as the baby.

Weak-kneed, he leaned back against the TARDIS and stared at the large mansion he’d parked close to. He’d made it—they were here.

Before he was able to move, a door open, casting a pale yellow square of light onto the garden. “Doctor!”

He knew that voice, knew it better than any other voice in the universe. A sob caught in his throat, then he pushed off the TARDIS and ran towards Rose. He could hear his hearts pounding in his ears as he pumped his arms, eager to hold her again.

But even in his desperation, he remembered to be careful of the baby. He slowed down as he reached her and caught Rose with his hands on her hips to avoid slamming into her pregnant belly.

“Rose, oh Rose you’re here,” he whimpered as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.

Rose tilted her head back, and he didn’t hesitate for an instant, bending down to press his lips to hers. The kiss tasted salty, but couldn’t tell if it was because of his tears or hers.

After a moment, he moved one hand up to her temple to fully restore their broken bond. Rose sighed against his lips when the pain of the last few months was washed away in the euphoria of their reunion.

I know, love. I know, the Doctor told her as he trailed his lips along her jawline. I’ve missed you so much.

Rose turned her head, and the Doctor gladly moved back to her lips, relearning her taste after four months apart. She slid her hands over his shoulders when he took her bottom lip between his own, alternating between suckling it gently and scraping his teeth over it.

Her hands carded through his hair, and he groaned when he felt her nails dig into the nape of his neck. God, Doctor, she said when he pulled her closer. Kissing you is even better than I remembered.

A third telepathic presence worked its way into their mental embrace, and the Doctor pulled out of the kiss with a gasp. The baby was begging for attention, and he immediately dropped to his knees in front of Rose and pressed his temple to her belly.

I���m here, little one, he said, beckoning for his child to come to him. I’ve missed so much, but I promise I’m here now, and we’re never going to be separated again.

Rose ran her hands through his hair. You came for us, she said, and he could feel her surprise. You said it was impossible, but you came anyway.

The Doctor pressed a kiss to her belly. Of course I came for you. I wanted to rip the universes apart as soon as I realised you were pregnant.

He pulled the baby’s mind closer to his, then reached for Rose over the bond and brought her into the embrace. We made this, Rose, he told her, overwhelmed by the moment. Timelines spun around them, and he caught glimpses of the new life they would live together—them and their children, travelling together through space and time.

Time expanded around Rose as she shared the first telepathic embrace with both the Doctor and the baby. They had so much to look forward to—more than the Doctor even realised.

She reached for him mentally and redirected his focus to the golden strand that wound all throughout their life. Doctor, look at this. She touched it, and they both sucked in a breath when the raw power of time surged through them.

Rose quickly pulled back from the golden strand, then looked down into the Doctor’s awestruck eyes. “I promised you forever,” she said quietly. “And that’s what we’re going to have.”

The baby kicked, and the tiny mind sparkled with happiness. The Doctor laughed and pressed one more kiss to Rose’s pregnant belly before jumping to his feet.

Rose could feel his eager desire to sweep her up and carry her into the TARDIS, and she shook her head. “Come on,” she told him, taking him by the hand and encouraging him to walk with her. “Everyone is waiting to say goodbye.” He sighed, but laced their fingers together and walked beside her without a complaint.

They’d only taken a few steps when the door opened further and her family came out to meet them. Mickey had the suitcase she’d packed that afternoon, and he walked past her to put it down by the TARDIS.

Her mum rushed across the lawn to wrap her up in a hug, and tears prickled in Rose’s eyes as she realised this would probably be the last time she’d see her mother. “I’m sorry,” she murmured as they held each other. “I wish I could have both you and him, but…”

Jackie pulled back and shook her head. “No point hoping for the impossible.” She pointed a finger at the Doctor. “Although, if anything ever happens to make it possible, I expect you to bring her back for a visit.”

The Doctor nodded. “Of course, Jackie. We’ll monitor the walls between the worlds from our side, and I expect Torchwood will be keeping an eye on them from this side.”

Pete had been standing awkwardly in the background, his hands in his pockets as he witnessed the goodbyes. But at this, he stepped forward and put his arm around Jackie’s waist. “You can count on it, Doctor,” he promised. “We’ve seen first hand how a breach in the Void can affect a world, so we’ll keep a close eye on things.”

“Yeah, that’ll be my job,” Mickey cut in. “I’ve already got your files on the dimension cannon project, Rose.”

Rose smiled and gave him a hug. “I wouldn’t trust it to anyone else.”

The Doctor cleared his throat. “I hate to cut things short, but unfortunately, the wormhole I came through won’t stay open forever. Rose and I need to get back to our universe.”

The TARDIS’ hum changed pitch, confirming the Doctor’s words. Rose looked over her shoulder at the ship, then back at her family. “I love you—never forget that.”

Then she took a deep breath and reached for the Doctor’s hand. “Let’s go home.”