#i would lay down on train tracks for this dub be very careful with your next move...

[kerorowhump]

@sp3ncer45 your wish is my command

[pastelbatfandoms]

Seeing Red (Au)

~Why do I have to go and break what I love so much? It's on your face and I'm to blame, I need to say hey it's all me in my head, I'm the one that burned this down,but it's not what I meant...~ AfterGlow-Taylor Swift

Part 1

Warnings: Smut, Dub Con (maybe triggering for some)

Part 3 Fatal Attraction

Renee Sits on the bed, test in hand. Wow...She was really pregnant. She was happy but nervous what did this mean for the timeline? Could they raise a child in this chaos they called normal?

Eobard stares at her with a bright smile as she sits up and looks at the test. In his mind, he didn't really anticipate her becoming pregnant. It was a welcome surprise for sure, though he can't help but feel nervous. This was a lot to take in and fast. The timeline and what impact that might have was something he didn't want to think about right now. At the very least,nothing would make him happier than raising a baby with Renee.

It's a lot to think about but he doesn't care. The fact that they are going to be parents is what matters most right now. Everything else can wait.

This is a lot to take in for Renee but she relaxes against Eobard letting him hold her for now. He smiles down at her,pulling her as close as he possibly can, tightly against his body,kissing her forehead. "it's a lot I know. But this is a good thing right?" Renee gives him a reassuring smile. "Yeah...of course it is."

Eobard gives a soft laugh, "It'll be fine...We just need to take it day by day. What matters the most is that this is happening to us now so we can figure out how to handle it hear and now. We have each other and we'll always be together. So don't worry, we'll figure it out."

"We'll keep them safe." Renee answers, then realizing what she said looked at Eobard in surprise.

Eobard stares at her confused for a moment then a smiles as soon as he realizes what she said. "Did you say 'keep THEM safe..' He gives a playful gasp, "You're not thinking of twins are you?"

Renee looks down a bit shy, "It was just a feeling...Maybe that's why I saw two children..."

Eobard gives Renee another playful chuckle, the smile never leaving his face. "Oh you and your feelings. We could be in for alot if you have that feeling again. What do your feelings or intuition tell you? Two boys,two girls? One of each?"

"Both. A boy and girl." Renee gave him a genuine smile at that, kissing him.

Eobard smiles more at her response. He leans into her kiss, kissing her deeply. He's always loved her kisses, loved her touch and they way they could express themselves. Which is what had gotten them into this trouble in the first place...but he would never take it back. As they kiss, his hands hold her face,rubbing it gently. But some point he can no longer help himself and pulls her in more. Wanting to feel that passion.

The kiss deepens as he pulls her closer. As their heartbeats faster, their breath shallow. The passion between them growing, the finally break the kiss. But as they stare at one another, they both are completely lost in the heat, never wanting to let each other go.

After their passionate love making, they fall asleep expecting a peaceful nights rest, with pleasant dreams not nightmares but unfortunately it doesn't go that way. Eobard thought he was past this of having the same nightmare over and over. Of them fighting Savitar in the future and Savitar killing Obsidian Storm, stabbing her and then throwing her onto the subway train tracks while Reverse Flash was helpless to stop it, always too slow, he needed to go faster...

Eobard wakes from the terrible nightmare and his eyes snap open, breathing heavy. He glances over at his side, hoping that the vision before him is real and the nightmare isn't. Seeing that Renee is right next to him, her body snuggled up to his. Eobard sighs and lays back down next to her, his breathing slowing as the nightmare fades away.

Renee feels Eobard start awake and looks over at him, a hand to his face, "Did you have a nightmare too?"

Eobard sighs as he sees her look over at him. Her hand a soothing comfort as he turns to look at her. "Yeah...I had another nightmare."

"So did I..." Renee admits, "I think mine was more of a warning or maybe a subconscious fear. Was yours that future again?"

Eobard sighs, a hand to head trying to shake of the remnants of the nightmare, " Yeah it was. I saw you or Obsidian Storm dead. I wanted to move faster,to get to you in time but I was too slow. Always too slow..."

Renee holds him to her, "I know you had those nightmares every night but the future is already changing, maybe this can too."

Eobard buries his face in her shoulder as she holds him against her. He hopes that her words are true, that the future is already changing and that this nightmare of losing her is just that. A horrible nightmare.

"I love you Eobard," She whispers, "I always will."

Eobard squeezes her hands at those words. Renee always knew what to say to soothe him. He doesn't want to think about what he saw, at least not tonight. He was always to anxious about the future but now all he wants to do is hold her. She was always his source of peace, her touch his ultimate comfort. He was always afraid of losing her now but now what mattered was that she was here, that he was with her. She was safe and she was his.

Eobard holds onto her tightly as they lay together. Their bodies connected, peaceful, tired but at ease. Time stood still as they lay wrapped in each others arms. Their was true, their soul one. Eobard was one with her and his destiny was by her side. All the stress and tension gone now, nothing remaining but their love. Renee was his future,she was his everything and she was right here. Time stood still,yet they had forever.

Eobard never wanted this moment to end,never wanting to let go of her. It was like he was in a trance. His breathing slow and gentle, he was completely one with her now, as if their souls were entwined.

Renee wanted to stay that way forever. Being held by Eobard, in his arms nothing but the feel of him, no worries, no hiding, no stress from the outside world. But she knew eventually they had to wake up and deal with the outside world...

Renee's eyes slowly opened as she let out a small sound, cuddling into Eobard. " Eo...Shouldn't we get up. Don't we have work?" Renee mumbled into his chest

Eobard sighed,smiling to himself. So she was awake. "We should, but can we just enjoy this moment for a but longer? I don't want it to end." Eobard smiled, looking into Renee's eyes.

"Alright..." Not like you had to convince her twice..

Eobard ran the tips of his fingers along Renee's cheek. She was adorable, her skin so soft. He loved her and never wanted to stop. The outside world could wait a moment longer.

Renee looked up at him her eyes brimming with love. Like that day dreamy look when you first fall in love and can't stop smiling.

Eobard pressed his lips to hers, kissing her. His hands gently pulled her in. "I love you Renee."

"I love you too Eobard." She replied as she kissed him again. They couldn't get enough each other. The kiss was addicting. Nothing else mattered,just them in this moment. Their bodies pressed together, his hands ran along her caressing her back. Eobard held her like he would never let go. Her warm soft body wrapped around him, her breath filled his lungs as if she was his oxygen. It made him smile, made his heart beat faster. Their souls were one. This was true love, true passion. Eobard pulled her closer, not wanting to break the moment they were creating.

Renee grinned, "Well maybe they can wait another hour..."

There was no language her body could find to describe the feeling Renee was experiencing. Her hands caressing his body, wanting to feel every inch of him. Her mouth moved on it's own, every word of his name slipping out. Her legs shaking at his touch as he reached lower. He was in control, she was letting him have complete control. She trusted him completely.

As Eobard explored every inch of her body and she responded in every way he wanted. His touch was sending shivers down her spine, her legs quivering as she surrendered to him. He was in complete control, she was letting him. So he continued never letting up as his grip tightened and his touches became more aggressive. That trust and surrender was about to be tested. As something in him seemed to lose control.

Trigger Warnings: Dub Con.

At first it was amazing but the more Eobard continued the more sensitive Renee became. Until she was begging him to stop, but the feeling was growing more intense and he didn't even acknowledge her pleas, he only kept going. The pressure from his fingers were becoming too strong. She could feel herself nearing her peak, soon she may not be able to handle it anymore, it felt like it had been hours. But her resistance was useless, it only turned him on more.

Renee was near her limit now. Her body begged to stop, but his grip didn't loosen. The sensation was growing uncontrollable. Renee was begging Eobard to let go but he only squeezed harder. She would be beyond her limit soon. Her pleas fell on deaf ears, he was going to continue until she exploded.

Renee was getting a bit scared now. This wasn't fun anymore. If he loved her, he would let go. But she wasn't sure this was her Eobard anymore...what if...fuck,she couldn't think,couldn't do anything... Her mind was losing control and her body was shaking. The pressure kept increasing,she couldn't stop him from entering her.

This level of pain was not something she would wish upon anyone but she was helpless. It was like something was controlling her body, he was enjoying her agony. Her resistance was gone and her screams silent in her head.

The pressure was unbearable. Her body was trembling, each thrust of him was bringing her closer. Renee's cries were only in her head, her voice gone as tears rolled down her face. She was like a doll to him, he would squeeze her until she was broken.

Eobard's mouth is pressing deeply onto hers, forcing himself against her. The ecstasy overwhelming. Eobard can feel himself starting to lose any restraint, he is getting close to the edge now. Finally he gives in, letting the ecstasy take over as he grip's her thighs tightly. Finally Eobard can't hold back anymore, he finally lets go. As they scream from the ecstasy and collapse onto one another.

Renee was still moaning a little bit, her legs twitching. As Eobard pulls her into him. She seemed distant now, as he rubbed her thighs. Eobard looked at her not sure why she was so distant now. He could tell the ecstasy was gone but she was acting scared and distant now. He tries to get her attention,brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Renee flinches from his touch, still not looking at him. Eobard tries to call her name to get her attention. Finally she works up the nerve to look at him. "What?" Her eyes spark a bit but she doesn't have the even have the energy to bring Obsidian out.

Eobard keeps his voice gentle as he waits for her to say more. Renee's eyes seem glassy now and far away... "Eobard why did you...Did Reverse Flash come out?"

Eobard's face grows somber at her question, his smile disappears as he nods looking away. "Yes...he did. I couldn't control it, it was a moment of weakness. I am so sorry Renee, I tried to resist him..."

Renee starts to get up then not ready to accept an apology, "I need to get ready for work..."

Eobard sits up then grabbing her arm, his grip is gentle but his eyes serious. "No you've had a long night. It's the middle of the night, you should rest. At least let me call and tell them you won't be in tomorrow."

Renee pulls out of his grip, sitting up, "Fuck it's the middle of the night?! Eobard we were supposed to be at Star Labs hours ago!" She shouts.

"I know but there's no time for you to work tonight. You need to rest and recover, Let me just call your other job and tell them your not coming in."

"I mean it's your fucking fault we werent there, too busy..." Renee trails off no she wouldn't say that.

Eobards eyes widen at that and he realizes she is starting to come back a bit and get angry. That's good she should be mad at him. He's trying to keep his cool but he knows he should get the blame for this, and the fact she won't take his hug makes him worry. Eventually he lets her go and speaks up. "I'll call them and let them know you aren't coming. But you can't work right now because they also expect you at the lab anyway."

"Eobard the lab is my job remember?" Renee snaps, "Besides the paper and Iris will understand."

Eobard just stares at her, "Yes I remember but you're still missing work today and tomorrow understand?"

Renee answers hestantily, "I...I guess."

There's that hesitance again. She is showing some resistance here and Eobard can feel it. She wouldn't normally hesitate here but this was a different side of her. "You seem exhausted still. Lay down."

"I wonder why..." Renee bites back sarcastically. Honestly if she wasn't, Obsidian Storm would be out and he'd be half way across the room by now...no a fight would not be good for the babies. She places a hand on her stomach, hoping the babies were okay.

"Are you feeling okay besides being tired?" Eobard asks watching her.

Renee scoffs, "Now you care."

Eobard rubs his hands over his face, "I've been caring this whole time...I just messed up. I got carried away and now I fucked everything up."

Renee looks at him in disbelief, did he truly not get how she felt or why? "Eobard you...I just need some space right now."

Eobard notices her holding back tears and trying to keep it together. He's starting to feel worse now as the reality of the situation dawned on him. She's genuinely hurt. Eobard sighs as tries to pull her close.

Renee moves away from him, "Eobard I can't have you touching me right now can you please just go..."

Eobard nods and lets her go,feeling really upset. "I'm sorry..." He says quietly as he gets up slowly but doesn't leave.

The old Thawne would have zipped away by now. When he doesn't Renee turns around, laying down, trying not to cry. A part of her didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

Eobard looks at her for a few more moments, his anguished eyes glued on her. He decides to give one last effort to try and reach out to her before he leaves. "Can I say one last thing before I leave."

Renee nods. Eobard takes a shaky breath before saying, "I'm sorry...I let my lust get the better of me. I didn't mean to hurt you,and you deserve far better than that. Just...take all the time you need..." Eobard realizes then that he was far too selfish with her and she deserved more. He pauses before saying, "Please forgive me. I'll understand if you can't. But I need you to know that I am deeply sorry for what I did." Eobard wants to say more but he needs to let her go for now. He doesn't want to push her and further. So instead of extending the conversation, he pulls away from her and walks away.

Once Eobard leaves Renee finally lets her emotions free, all the hurt and fear rising to the service. Honestly she thought about leaving but she was pregnant with twins, Eobard Thawne's twins, where could she go? And maybe that had been his plan all along...she didn't want to think of him like that but as manipulating as he could be...Well Reverse Flash had gotten what he wanted. He wanted to break her, he had succeeded. Renee broke down then sobbing herself to sleep.

Eobard leaves the penthouse, walking outside. All his thoughts are still on what just happened in that house. He is trying to process everything he did, how he hurt her and how he needs to make it right. He doesn't even realize he's speeding deeper into the woods, so wrapped up in his own fears and guilt.

Eobard is so deeply wrapped up in this,in his guilt and fear that he is not even paying attention to were he is going. Eobard can't believe he had messed up this badly. The entire night he'd been struggling with himself,with his emotions and desires. He had given into his wants and he'd hurt the woman he loved. Everything just felt so fucked up, so broken, so lost. And now he actually was lost,deep in the woods.

Eobard can't help but feel frustrated because he just feels so lost right now. Both in his head and these damn woods. He was supposed to be so much more than this. In his head he had felt unstoppable, the only man immune to fear. Yet here he was now feeling all these emotions at once.

Eobard's anger starts to grow alongside his guilt and fear. The guilt is telling him that what he did was wrong, that he needs to make it up. Yet the anger is telling him that he has nothing to be sorry for. Both emotions are screaming at him and he is completely torn.

The two emotions are warring with each other,back and forth, he needs to be one or the other. Guilt or anger? He needs to pick an emotion and run with it. He needs to do something. Eobard stops his thoughts from running then. The two emotions are fighting and he needs to settle it. This entire night he has been on an emotional roller coaster one where his emotions can't be controlled. But now he needs to control them. So Eobard makes a decision, and follows his anger, it's stronger than the guilt now.

Eobard starts to get mad at himself and it shows. The guilt is still there but now he chooses to ignore it. He focuses on his anger, his voice coming out slightly shaky, "No, I'm not sorry."

Eobard screams his rage becoming dominant and he knows it, he allows it. Letting it consume him.

Renee is awoken by a sudden buzzing sensation all over her body. Her bond with Eobard. {Wake up.} She hears Storm hiss in her head, {Thawne's in trouble. From himself.} At first Renee doesn't seem to care, but that other part of her that still cares deeply for him, listened. "Where is he?" {The Woods} "Are you okay enough to come out?" Renee asks Storm. {Yes...I am sorry I wasn't there before.} Storm tells her guilty. "It's alright, we just need to find him now."

Eobard's bond with Renee hits him and wakes him from his rage. He can feel her emotions and he knows something is wrong. Eobard looks around the woods for a moment and thinks to himself. "I have done this to her." He is the reason why she's worried right now. A deep sense of guilt suddenly returns to him and the guilt now overpowers his rage. The rage immediately disappearing.

"Eobard? Are you out here?" Renee yells for him but no answer. "where is he?" She wonders, Storm alert just beneath the surface.

Eobard hears her yells and finally responds," Yes I'm right here!"

Renee sees him and runs over. Despite everything she still asks, "Are you okay?" She takes his hand, serious now. 'We need to talk."

Eobard smiles in relief at her and nods, "I know we do...I'm sorry for everything that happened earlier. I let my desires get the best of me,my lust for control and I should have been more considerate and aware. I'm sorry." He takes her hand and rubs it with his thumb, a nervous gesture on his part.

"Let's talk about it inside." Renee answers. Eobard nods and follows her inside. They go to the kitchen and Eobard just stares at her again,they are both still extremely emotional and neither really know where to start.

Renee lets out a shaky breath before she speaks, "Thawne what happened tonight was...it went too far. I know it wasn't you completely but you need to figure out a way to control or get rid of the negative speed force, that parasite. Or we're done. Yes I know it can hear me I don't care."

The words hit hard as Eobard listens to her. He nods, taking a breath before speaking, "I know...it was too much. I was not all in the right state of mind. And even with the negative speed force that's inside me, I don't want to make excuses. The fact is that I need to get this under control and not let it happen again. There's no excuse for what I did."

"I know I'm pregnant but I will not raise our kids in this...not after you made all those lofty promises..." Renee stops not being able to finish,she just feels like crying again.

Eobard sighs,starting to feel emotional himself, he feels horrible that he upset and hurt her so much. He nods and steps up to try and comfort her. "I know, I'll make it right. I'll make sure that it never happens again, I'm sorry for making empty promises. I want to make sure you and the kids feel loved and supported. That will never not be my main priority."

"How can you guarantee that?" Renee asks,crossing her arms as she looks at him, "I mean you say one thing and do another. I...I don't know if I can trust you."

Eobard is silent for a few moments before he finally speaks, "I...you're right...I have never been one to keep my promises. And I need to start. All I can ask you is to give me time to prove it. If I can keep that promise, then will you believe that I can change?"

"We'll see." Renee starts to tell him something else but Storm stops her. {No don't threaten them, they'll hear you.}

Eobard looks at her worried. He doesn't want to feel like she's now afraid of him. He wants to make her feel safe, so he continues. "Renee..I know I have given you many reasons not to trust me. But I don't want you to be scared of me. I need you to believe me."

Renee eyes him a bit cautious. " I don't know...your starting to become the Thawne I knew in the future, the one I hated, who killed this version of you. I know I said I'd stop telling you the future...but really what does it matter now?"

Eobard doesn't want to become someone she hates. He knows that was the fate he has seen in the future, but he wants something different now. He doesn't want to keep hurting her, he wants her to be safe with him.

Eobard doesn't say anything as he listens to her talk. He knows what she's seeing. Renee's mind is trying to tell her that he is becoming a cruel man again that kills her and takes their kids. He doesn't want that. That was never what he was meant to do, that wasn't supposed to be who Eobard was meant to become.

This wasn't supposed to happen...Renee finally had that version of him she had been searching for,for so long. She had been hopeful,happy for a moment. But she should have known that happiness wouldn't last, not while he still had the negative speed force inside him...

Eobard's emotions start shifting. He now feels alot more guilt and regret over the possible future. That wasn't what he was supposed to do and it isn't what he wants for them. He can't possibly go down such a dark path that he loses himself completely. He wants nothing but her happiness and their future together.

"All you care or care about at that time was your speed, nothing else mattered..." Renee told him, not sure how much of that future he remembered.

Eobard nodded, "Yeah...I did. I won't lie. I was obsessed. I was a monster. I just hope now that I didn't ruin everything we could have had.."

"I hope so too. Even though I feel like I shouldn't, I still love you." Eobard's heart speeds up as she says that. Renee still saying she loves him. That gives him hope for the future, hope that they can still have one together. She isn't ready to let him go yet, she still wants this to work and so does he.

"But I'm going to need time. This...just hurts too much." Renee tells him.

Eobard nods in understanding. At least there is still hope here, this isn't the end yet and he will give her all time she needs. Eobard gives her a small smile, one of cautious but positive hope. The future is still in their hands, he just needs to earn her trust back.

"Don't get your hopes up too much." Rene warns him seeing Eobard's hopeful look," I didn't say I forgive you." She looks away with a sigh, "I'm actually going to try and rest more. Talk to Storm, she's the only one I can talk too..."

Eobard doesn't say anything, knowing she's asking for space. He walks out of the kitchen and starts to head upstairs. Space is exactly what he wanted to hear, maybe after some time alone she'll start to come around. The important thing is that he still has a chance. Eobard walks into his room, pacing around thinking on all that did happen. He knows he made a big mistake, one he regrets. He also knows that he needs to wait on her to talk again. He's not going to rush not this time.

Meanwhile Renee lays in bed a million emotions and memories running through her at once. Nothing was going the way she had wanted...or had thought. She thought keeping them a secret would work like before, but the timeline was different now, she wanted to tell the team but she didn't want to betray Eobard...even after everything she still cared. So that meant she was alone again...no not completely she still had her other half, as Obsidian Storm held her while she cried.

Eobard hears her crying, all he wants to do is hold her but he needs to wait until she's ready. So distract himself he decides to go to his office. Working always calmed him down. He worked well into the morning until he was tired and finally fell asleep.

Once he awoke Eobard was more calm and determined as he got up and headed downstairs. Feeling more prepared now, he is ready now no matter what happens.

Eobard walked in seeing Renee sitting at the wooden dining table,coffee and a pen and paper in front of her. Dressed casual in jeans and an oversized white cardigan. She looks stressed but also calm like she had made a decision. She looks up when Eobard enters, "Perfect timing, I wrote something for you."

Eobard walks over to the table, sitting opposite Renee. He smiles softly as he looks at her. He is glad that she seems like she's looking better. "Hopefully it's an answer." She says handing him the letter as he reads it.

Dear Eobard,

I know lately things have been rocky at best for us. Sometimes I feel like I'm holding onto the future because it's all we have left.

But I realized running away is easy, giving into the darkness is easy. Staying and fighting for each other is the hard part. sometimes the only way out is through, the hardest lessons can bring the biggest rewards. I want that with you, I want our kids to grow up with parents who love each other and aren't scared. I love you. I have always loved you no matter what others have said.

I believe you can face the negative speed force in you and let it go,but to do that you have to believe it too and we can't hurt one another in the process, I know there's good in you I've seen it, I want you to see it too. It may take awhile but I do forgive you.

Eobard is stunned as he reads the letter. He is overwhelmed by her words, it's pure honesty. The message resonates with him as he feels the same about Renee. He really has always loved her, even if it bordered on obsession and he wants that to grow. Eobard looks up at her, holding back tears. But soon he can't keep them at bay anymore, he isn't afraid to show his full emotions now. He wants to prove to her he can be the man she needs him to be.

Renee notices Eobard holding back tears and whispers to him once again "It's okay to feel Eo..." His affectionate nickname for him,returning again.

Eobard smiles as he wipes away the tears now. As he whispers, "I know, I'm just...overwhelmed right now. I didn't expect this kind of response. I was expecting something completely different,honestly. But it's nice to read those words from you. I feel the same way."

Renee gives him a sad smile back, "I guess we're stuck together. I can't seem to let you go even when I try."

Eobard lets out a soft laugh, giving her a small smile. He really wants to hold her but aside from a hug he holds back, he knows it's not time yet. He'll wait on her.

As if reading his mind, Renee walks over sitting on his lap as she holds him. Eobard's heart skips a beat when Renee sits on his lap and holds him. She had always been able to sense these things. Eobard wraps his arms around her, kissing her forehead. He couldn't believe she had forgiven him so soon. He is going to make things work this time, he needed her, he needed her more than air.

Holding onto Eobard, Renee remembers something he would tell her well in the near future now, after he gave up his dream of getting his speed back,his world. "You are my world." He had told her. She remembers this as tears fall from her eyes. "I love you Eobard." She whispers.

Eobard's heart skips a bit when he hears her say those words. The words he never thought he'd hear again, he thought he'd lost her for good this time. "I love you too." He answers the words met with such strong resolve and energy. Eobard was not letting this love go,not this time.

Eobard pulls Renee into a tight hug now. He buries his face in her neck, trying not to cry. Feeling the warmth of her, the smell of her. This was everything he could have ever wanted, stronger than any power he could have. They belong together, and no one else could hold a candle to this flame they both have for each other.

Renee holds him while they cry, the stress, anger, hurt and darkness of the past week, decades even finally subsiding. They may not be perfect but they were each others lightning rods. They could fuel each others strengths, as well as weaknesses.

Renee looks at him tentatively wanting to kiss him but not sure...Eobard notices her hesitation, noticing that she wants to kiss him...He leans in close to her, getting closer with each passing moment. Then decides in that moment to let go and give in. He doesn't want to waste another moment. The moment his lips touch hers the doubt is erased. The kiss is electrifying.

Renee melts into him then at the unspoken permission as their lips meet. Eobard wraps his arms around her, getting lost in the feeling once again, their chemistry still intoxicating as ever. Renee wants to give into the moment but she is still unsure. A voice inside her says, "In order for him to change you have to let him. You have to trust him,to trust yourself." At that Renee starts to let go more.

Eobard pulls back then looking at her, waiting for her reaction. "it's ok," Renee tells him," I need to trust you. Only way out is through right?"

Eobard's eyes shine at her acceptance. He wants to make sure he doesn't mess this up again and hearing those words gave him the reassurance he needs as he pulls her back into that perfect kiss again. Eobard could not thank her enough for giving him this other chance.

To be continued...

[peachyteabuck]

come water me ☂

summary: after years of depending on science to give you a child, you think giving a magic a shot isn’t a half-bad idea (a commission for @myhoneybeeheart) 

pairing: steve rogers x thor odinson x reader (established steve rogers x reader)

words: 3,538

trigger warnings: infertility, MMF threesomes, creampies, praise kink, breeding kink, cuckolding, angst if you squint but like REALLY squint. REALLY REALLY squint. 

ask box / masterlist / commission info / ko-fi

You and Steve had both done every test known to every male and female fertility specialist in the United States, along with several European countries, Japan, China, and Australia. Every single one, for each of you, pointed to the same thing – infertility.

Persistent infertility. As in, the both of you are not only infertile, but will continue to be infertile despite any type of treatments any type of doctor wants to put you through. Steve doesn’t qualify for experimental treatments, and you’ve tried at least five to no avail.

Long story short, neither of you can have biological children.

The problem is, you both really want biological children. But, according to biology, it just isn’t going to happen.

“Science says so,” the last doctor had told you, voice full of apology. “I’m so sorry.”

That particularly heartbreaking appointment was in the late afternoon, but the battery of tests meant you and your husband were stuck in the shitty doctor’s office until long past when the sun had set. You were grateful how dark it was when you left, terrified some Captain America stan or paparazzi would get a high definition picture of both you with puffy faces along with snot and stray tears still running down your face. It was late when you got back to your secluded high rise, neither of you hungry nor willing to feign it enough to order something. You didn’t know about Steve, but the sadness had somehow overwhelmed every single one of your senses – making your taste buds pointless and limbs numb. Silently, the both of you got ready for bed and held each other as emotional exhaustion acted as a second weighted blanket and lulled you both to sleep.

It was the next morning when you thought of what you had dubbed “the plan.” You had gotten up before Steve (unusual, as you’d been together long enough that wallowing in self pity was a shared activity) and sat at the kitchen table with unbrushed teeth, messy hair, and the sort of determination that comes with a self-reflexive ultimatum: if “the plan” didn’t work, you’d stop trying. You’d tell Steve that you’ve come to terms with your inability to conceive and continue your journey to start from the assumption that there was nothing either of you could do to make it happen. It’s a heartbreaking reality, but it was one you were willing to accept.

It took a few days to work up the courage, to find the right time to broach the idea with the man you chose to spend the rest of your life with. The perfect moment ended up being when you were both eating dinner, Steve telling a story about something ridiculous Peter had done on a mission (turns out, flirting with a fellow agent undercover as a full service sex worker is not a good idea). You were both happy, incredibly so, and you knew whenever your husband talked about the kid it ignited the special light inside of him that wanted to be a father.

It was the tail end of the story, he was two beers down (a special mix Tony had concocted that balanced with Steve’s serum-induced metabolism), and he was happy. So with a deep inhale and sustained eye contact, you rambled with your prepared speech that covered a few of concerns you knew Steve would have and informed him of your personal deal.

You finished quickly – words tumbling out of your mouth before you knew they were being spoken. Your heart beat loudly in your chest, blood rushed to your ears. You were terrified.

That was, until Steve gave his reply a few hours later.

(He asked if he could table the conversation for a little while, wanting to “think it over.” Of course you told him it was okay, especially since you knew there was dessert still waiting to be eaten in the fridge, and you were still very hungry.)

You imagined a lot of responses from your husband, the worst of which sounded like the beginning of a particularly sad Shonda Rhimes television show:

“You want to what?” Steve nearly screams. “You want to invite Thor Odinson in our marriage bed so that we can have a child!? No! I won’t allow it!”

You fall to the ground, sobbing, clutching your phone as you scream back. “I want what’s best for us! For our family! For our future child!”

Steve storms out of the bedroom, turning back to your crumbled figure just before stomping out. “I’m calling a divorce lawyer. I want you out by Monday.”

You expected you’d have to convince him, would have to coax his clenched jaw towards your face so he’d know how serious you are from the look in your eyes. Maybe you’d have to wait days, weeks, months before he’d agree, would have to have long conversations with him and his colleague about negotiations and boundaries and whatever else.  

What you didn’t expect was for Steve to agree not only immediately, but enthusiastically.

“T-that’s it?” you asked. You both were in bed, reading separate books before you’d each turn off the lights and go to sleep. He was reading something about battle tactics during Vietnam while you were thumbing through a book about the history of swearing.

Steve did not look up from his novel. “You want to have a threesome with Thor in the hopes it’ll give us a baby?”

You looked to him, brow furrowed. “Yeah?”

Now he puts the book down and turns to you. “The worst thing that happens is we have sex with a literal deity?”

At first you think he’s joking but, nope. He’s serious.

“Uh, yeah,” you reply again.

Steve shrugs before going back to his book. “Then yeah, but you have to call him.”

You blink a few times – shocked. Pleasantly shocked, but still shocked. “That’s…a deal. Yeah. I can, I’ll talk to him.”

Steve smiles, turning back to you once more and giving you a peck on the cheek. “Sounds good, babe. Let me know what he says.”

You nod, still a little surprised. “O-of course.”

With that, the conversation ends, and you need to figure out how to contact the man in question.

The next morning, you learn from the detailed calendar Tony’s assistant keeps that Thor’s on Migard for the rest of the month, doing…whatever. Honestly, you have no idea what he’s doing, and – even more honestly – you don’t care. Short of saving an entire population from destruction, you’re sure he can make time for you.

Luckily you find him easily, watching some reality show about weird white people in the living room of a common floor. You take deep breaths for stepping into eyeshot, asking if you can sit next to him (he says yes) before you start what is likely the most uncomfortable conversation of your life.

Somehow, though, Thor beats you to it. “If you want me to help you and Steve conceive, just tell me the date and time you want me in your bed.”

Even more so than when Steve accepted your recent proposal, you’re surprised by Thor’s forwardness. “Um-“

Thor smiles, putting a comforting arm around your shoulders before pulling you close against him. “Listen, I’ve done this with many families on many planets. I’ve never done it on Earth, but I’m willing to give it a try for you two. You deserve a child, and I’d be happy to help with that.”

You wipe a stray tear before allowing yourself to be enveloped into Thor’s massive arms. “Thank you,” you tell him after your heart had stopped beating at your ribs as if they were boxers going for the championship title. “Thank you so much.”

You feel Thor smile against the side of your head. “Of course, anything for you.”

You return to Steve with your findings, who agrees to set it up for the next night. The few hours before the mythical man is scheduled to arrive are an otherworldly combination, as if you had put giddy excitement, gut-wrenching fear, and determined optimism in a Nutribullet with bananas and strawberries and vanilla Greek yogurt and served it with-

“Honey, he said we both have to eat before,” Steve pulls the breaks on your train of thought, nudging your plate of food towards you with a small smile.  “I’ve known you for long enough to know what you overthinking and forgetting to eat looks like.”

You nod and sigh, biting into the seasoned steamed vegetables. “Sorry, I-“

Steve shakes his head, swallowing whatever from his plate he was chewing. “I’ve also known you long enough to not need you to explain. Just eat.”

He’s right, you think as you clear your plate. You’ve known Steve for over a decade, dating for nine of them and married for seven. He met you through Natasha, who knew you from your work as a professor studying the differing effects of veterans and civilians (how she found you is still a mystery) and invited you to a conference that Stark was funding and therefore required the Avengers to make an appearance. He knew everything about you, and you knew everything about him.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder whether that’s a good thing, or a bad one.

When Thor arrives, he directs the two of you with ease, accepting a glass of expensive red wine as he follows you to the expansive bedroom.

He makes you strip first, tells you to lay in the center of the bed with your legs spread over the end and arms at your side. Steve’s next, already half-hard as he takes his position by your head, on his knees so he can watch the show in front of you. He’s naked, erection hard against his chiseled stomach.

“You’re so beautiful,” you tell him, blissed out before anything had ever begun.

He smiles down at you, same look in his eye the same day you got married. “You, too babe.”

Thor lets you have the moment as he undresses himself, letting you wrap a hand around Steve’s cock as he slots himself between your legs.

“Mm,” Thor hums, tracking your every move with a precise eye. “What a pretty cunt you have…”

A deep moan from you cuts him off as he kneels and licks a wide stripe up your dripping center, his large hands moving under your knees to bend your legs to your chest.

“Oh!” you cry, one of your hands moving to clutch his long blonde hair. “Oh that feels so good!”

You can feel Thor smiling into your folds as one of his perfectly calloused fingers slowly enters you, reveling in your now-mindless acceptance of pleasure. “So tight,” he moans. “Can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”

It doesn’t take long for your brain to fry, losing your ability to do anything but moan and sloppily jerk off your husband as Thor begins to fuck two fingers in and out of you at a bruising pace.

Steve watches you intensely, takes over jerking his own dick when you lose control of the muscles in your hands.

Thor scoffs, rolling his eyes you pout when his lips leave you.

“C’mon, love,” he murmurs into your inner thigh. “Don’t neglect the man.”

Nearly panting, you wrap your lips around Steve’s cock while Thor continues eating you out.

“Fuck you’re so good at this,” Steve hisses as you start to gag on him, running your tongue on the underside of his cock.

You do your best to smile as one hand moves to play with his balls, eyes screwing shut as you turn all your attention onto your husband’s cock.

“That feel good?” Thor asks, hand around the base of his cock. He grunts when Steve nods, his head thrown back in ecstasy. “C’mon, Stevie. Tell me how good your wife’s mouth feels on your dick.”

Steve swallows what little spit is left in his mouth before trying to remember how to speak. “It f-feels so good,” he’s breathless, chest straining as he tries not to come. “Wet and t-tight, the best thing I’ve ever felt.”

Thor grunts deep in his chest, as if he’s restraining himself. “Keeping going – and tell me when you’re about to cum.”

Steve moans when he hits the back of your throat, both hands now tangled in your hair. “F-feels so good, like she’s sucking the life out of me through my fucking dick- Oh fuck!”

You’re deep throating him now, breathing through your nose as you gag.

“T-Thor,” he moans, voice strained. “I-I think I’m-“

“Stop,” the man at the end of the bed commands as he continues fucking his fingers in and out of you. Reluctantly, you do as you’re told, ceasing all actions and giving Steve the most pitiful look you can muster.

“C’mere pretty girl,” Thor murmurs, leaving one last kiss at the most sensitive part of you. “It’s time for me to fuck you.”

You and Steve both moan deeply as he lifts himself to his feet and aligns himself with your center – hardened cock bobbing against his stomach. The sight is enough to make your center tighten, skin on fire as you wait for him to gift you reprieve.

“Such a perfect little pussy,” Thor mumbles to no one but himself, grinning wide as he enters you.

Little words are exchanged after that, Thor focusing on the feeling of your cunt instead of talking.

“Oh Thor-“ you moan, pulling away from Steve to throw your head back once more. “Oh shit holy-“

Thor just laughs, leaning down so he can kiss you. He places one hand next to your head for balance, the other moving to jerk Steve’s cock for you. His whole body works like a perfectly build machine, hips and hand working in tandem to get all three of you off. His movements are languid and purposeful, as if each muscle contraction and release was planned long, long ago in some expert fashion.

As Steve moans once again that he’s close, you remember what Thor had told you the day previous – that he had done this for other people attempting to build their families. In an instant, you were struck with the fear that this was somehow mechanical for him, something he was doing out of some sense of duty with half his brain focused on what he was going to have for dinner or what fruit was in season – something mundane and minutely distracting so he could phone it in and take the credit when the pregnancy test came back positive.  

Thor notices you’re drifting away, grabs you with one hand and coaxes your eyes to meet his. “Don’t worry about anything, baby,” he tells you, voice low in his chest. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

It’s comforting – you can’t describe why, don’t even understand why; but even if you could, Steve’s begging cuts your train of thought short.

“Fuck please,” his voice is high and desperate, anything left of his precious Captain America façade torn to shreds by the possibility of denial. “Please let me come!”

Thor just shakes his head and smiles, putting him through the same torture as he did before but continuing fucking you – ignoring Steve’s cries as he rubs at your clit.

“Ignore him, baby,” he murmurs to you, “C’mon, focus on how good it’s gonna feel when I make you come.”

That’s all it takes for you to lose yourself, to throw your head back and buck your hips up and scream as loud as your exhausted lung will allow. At the last second before you reach your peak Thor moves away from you to grab the back of Steve’s head, pulling the man into a deep kiss.

“Fuck,” Thor groans against Steve’s lips. “Fuck you’re both so gorgeous I’m, fuck, I’m gonna-“

Thor releases himself inside of you with a deafening shout, moaning into Steve’s mouth as his come spills out of you. You’re speechless, watching them kiss above you while you pant.

For a moment there’s silence – the thick scent of sex and the wet sounds of their mouths and your pussy being the only things that fill the air. The only thing that cuts through it is Thor’s gruff voice instructing Steve to take his place between your legs.

The shuffling is awkward but gives you a minute to breathe, the clouds in your brain clearing with a few seconds of being left alone. Unlike Steve, Thor lays next to you on his side, one hand framing your jaw as he kisses you deeply.

Steve takes a moment to admire Thor’s cum dripping out of your pussy, resisting the urge to kneel down and lay his tongue there and drink it all down.

He swallows what little spit is left in his mouth as he enters you, body trembling as his eyes roll to the back of his head. The feeling of your pussy – though familiar – is sublime; mixed with the feeling of Thor’s cum inside of you makes him want to cry from the overwhelming pleasure.

He doesn’t, though, he somehow gets his brain and cock to reconnect so that he can fuck you despite his entire body screaming. You’re sensitive – if Steve couldn’t read your body language, your screaming moans and eyes screwed shut would tell him. It’s a precious thing to see you in such a feral state, to see you fucked out and desperate and begging to be pushed over the cliff again and again and again. You’re normally a very professional woman – always put together and well-spoken and knowledgeable in any subject necessary.  To see you incoherent, lost to the pleasure – it’s something special Steve is determined to remember for the rest of his days.

“Such a good boy,” Thor tells him when he notices Steve’s concentration fading. “You fuck your wife so well for me,” he turns to you, leaving a kiss at the corner of your panting mouth. “Doesn’t your husband fuck you so good?”

“Y-yes,” you reply after you take a second to process what he’s asking of you. “Steve’s so good at fucking a baby into me, makes me feel so good I, oh!”

Something in Steve snaps as he listens to Thor, elicits something primal that makes him dig his fingers into the pit of your pushed-up knees as he pounds into you without mercy.

“Gonna-“ Steve moans. “Gonna fuck our baby into you, gonna make sure everyone knows how good I fuck you, fuck!”

Thor just smiles all big and toothy, looking between your face and Steve’s. Just as confident as before, he trails the same hand as before between your breasts and down your stomach, rubbing at your sensitive nub once more.

“You can do it, baby,” he whispers to you, coaxing another orgasm out of you with skilled fingers. “You’re so beautiful, I want to watch you come again. You can do that, right? You can come again for me?”

You shake your head, too overwhelmed to form coherent sentences. “I, I- “

“Shh,” he trails his thumb – still soaked with your slick and his precum – “It’s okay, my little dove. You can do it once more for me and Steve. C’mon, you can do it with him, right?”

You don’t speak, don’t move, don’t do anything – too focused on the feeling of Thor next to you and Steve on top of you and Thor rubbing at your clit and Steve fucking your pussy and the warmed sheets between your fingers and the sweat pooling between your breasts and-

“Fuck!” Steve’s screams mirror your own internal monologue. “Fuck I’m-“

Thor uses the thumb that was just under your lip to grab Steve’s jaw, forcing their eyes to meet just as he had done many times before. “Come for me.”

You and Steve’s orgasms come at the same time, the both of you twitching as you fall slowly, deliriously, from the shared delicious high.

When the French coined folie a duex, you’d always assumed it was about some madness that happened to manifest in two people. But what is defined as “madness?” Could it be the sweet satisfaction that flows through each of your veins like gold? Could it be the vacant contentment behind Steve’s eyes? Could it be the vacant content behind yours?

Somehow, Thor maneuvers the two of you so that all three of you can lay there, out of breath and sweaty all over as each of you stares at separate spots on the ceiling.

You’re the one to break the silence, stuck between the two men in the center of the large bed. “Do you think it worked?”

Steve turns towards you, leaning on one arm while the other spreads itself over your stomach. “I think so.”

Thor turns over next, mirroring Steve’s position. Free hand, though, goes to cup your face, pulling you in for a quick peck on the lips before guiding you to Steve for a much deeper kiss.

“I think so, too,” the large man says eventually, watching as you and Steve remain locked together. He doesn’t think either of you can hear him, but he smiles at the softness on both of your faces nonetheless.

[hoodoo12]

Roses and Rot

This is based of a loose prompt: “Jealous and possessive Keatlejuice where the boy goes feral”. My pals @vicunaburger (Last Train Home)and @clairjohnson (Night Out) also wrote for this prompt; go check them and their fine stories out!

NSFW. Possessiveness, extreme violence and gore, smut, minor bondage, dub-con. This is a darkfic.

~

There hadn’t been any sound. No warning, and that was the scariest thing of all. There was some asshole douchebag who’d been catcalling you and who jogged after you down the sidewalk, even though you’d made it plainly clear you wanted nothing to do with him. The guy had the balls to grab your shoulder, and that was the end.

He’d been torn away from you so abruptly you’d been jerked back too, stumbling and losing your balance. You shouted, because you’d first thought the guy had done it himself, but when you gathered your wits your shout died in your throat at the sight that met your eyes. The douchebag was on his back and screaming, although his voice also went the way of yours. For a different reason, however: it was hard to scream when there was no breath capable of being drawn after the hand shoved in his gut ruptured his diaphragm and was now elbow deep into his chest. “Heart’s still beatin’. Pity,” Beetlejuice laughed. “Not for long though, buddy.” Straddling the man’s legs like they were wrestling or they were lovers, he extracted his hand slowly, like that would be a kindness to make it hurt less. When just his hand was still inside, he cocked his head. “I think that’s your liver. Spleen feels a little less smooth, an’ if I’d gone through it--whoa! You’d have bleed out way too soon! Oops, looks like my damn ring is caught on something--”

With a more violent jerk than maybe needed to happen, he yanked his hand out of the guy with the thickest wet sound you’d ever heard. You retched involuntarily as Beetlejuice examined what looked like a rope of intestine in his hand. Your gag caught his attention. Quick as a snake, he looked up and caught your eyes. Typically pale blue, his eyes were blown dark with what you would have classified as arousal, except he was drenched in blood and was pawing through a person’s innards like picking up candy from a destroyed pinata. Beetlejuice grinned ferally at you, licking his teeth. He seemed to realize he’d gotten some blood sprayed onto his chin, because he licked further down to remove it. You weren’t sure what to think. Or say. Or do. You felt frozen, a rabbit, pinned by a predator’s gaze. Your choices were to not move and maybe he’d ignore you, or run and hope he was having too much fun with the soon-to-be corpse under him. “What’s the matter baby?” he said with much too much amusement in his voice. “I did this for you.” You could barely wrap your head around that, and you shook your head slightly because of it. The amusement on his face melted to a scowl, and you flinched. Luckily, Beetlejuice seemed to believe it was due to the man twitching and still trying to draw breath underneath him. He turned ferociously back to him. “You fuckin’ cocksucker--you apologize to the lady!” he spit, literally, in the dying man’s face. 

It was unfathomable to you the amount of pain and shock the guy must be in, with his guts systematically being pulled from the hole Beetlejuice put in him. When he didn’t respond to the order that had been given to him, the specter snarled and used his unoccupied hand to grab the guy’s chin to twist his head up and over awkwardly to look at you. “Fucking apologize,” he demanded again. He held on with so much force his nails cut into the man’s cheeks. The guy who may or may not have assaulted you given the chance, whose only ‘crime’ was being a prick in public and daring to lay a hand on you, managed to raise his eyes enough to meet yours. He was crying, but still no real noise came from him; collapsed lungs didn’t provide enough air to pass through vocal cords. He wheezed, a little. 

Beetlejuice cranked his head back to a more proper position. “That’s much better,” he said brightly, like a teacher praising a pupil that finally understood something complex. “I’m sure you’ll never do anything like that again, will you?” The guy wheezed again, and you could see that his tears made clean tracks through the blood on his face. “WILL YOU?!” Beetlejuice screamed suddenly, dropping his face within inches of the man. 

The guy still had enough strength to flinch. That made Beetlejuice laugh again, and he planted an opened-mouth kiss to the man’s mouth. It prevented you from seeing what his hands were doing, but you didn’t miss the specter sucking in like he was stealing the last of his victim’s breath. When he sat back up, a string of bloody saliva bridged between the two men’s lips. With one hand on the man’s chest and the other still running intestines through his fingers like fine silk, Beetlejuice cocked his head. “Heart’s giving out, buddy. Maybe, if I’m quick--” And again, with no warning, he torn into the man’s torso with a frenzy. You’d never known how strong he was; you’d never considered how strong he was, but skin and muscle split and ribs were cracked, and before you even had the chance to look away, Beetlejuice had his prize: exposure of the guy’s heart, still in his ruin of his chest, beating erratically from blood loss and rapidly dropping blood pressure. Beetlejuice looked up at you, gave you a wink, and gave the heart a vicious flick. Luckily the guy didn’t feel it; he was obviously dead. Hawking something up from the back of his throat, the specter spit a gob of mucus directly into the dead man’s open chest. You’d never seen someone die before. You’d never seen such frenzied carnage. If you could have torn your eyes away from the show of wanton destruction, you would have. You felt numb and shocky yourself, like you wanted to vomit and curl into a fetal position all at the same time. All your limbs were cold. The fact that it was done so casually, that Beetlejuice looked just as he’d always looked--grimy, moldy, the corners of his mouth always just about to turn up like he was always one step ahead of anyone else around--he didn’t look monstrous at all except that his favorite suit was now that start of a joke--what’s black and white and red all over--

--your thoughts felt fractured, a skipping record, and a giggle slipped out of you, less for amusement or approval and more because you had no reference on how to respond to any of this.

Beetlejuice took your giggle the wrong way, of course. In a flash, between one blink and the next, he was at your side, arms around your waist to hold you upright and against him. The blood soaked into his suit felt clammy and left smears on you. There was still a feral light in his eyes, and pressed this close, it wasn’t any secret he was aroused. “Nobody gets to touch you but me, baby,” he informed you. Just as he leaned down for a kiss that you dared not refuse him, he continued, “You’re mine.”

His mouth covered yours and you held your breath. The taste of him, damp soil with base notes of roses and rot, was familiar; the new flavor of iron from the residual blood on his face was not and you did not care for it much. Naturally, he didn’t care. While you squeezed your eyes shut and tried not to act too put off in case that made him angry, an odd pressure surrounded you and when he released you and you opened your eyes, you were back in your bedroom. You didn’t dare point out that if he could just remove you from the situation on the street he didn’t have to tear that guy apart. 

Wiping his thumb along his lower lip as he stared over you with hungry eyes, he repeated in a low voice, “You’re fucking mine,” as if you’d argued. 

He still seemed to think there was some disagreement, however, maybe because you were still shocky from the events and you weren’t as responsive as typical to his advances. He lifted his lips in what you thought was supposed to be a smile but came off more as a snarl. “Men. Always sniffin’ around, always thinkin’ they can touch whatever they want without consequences. Never thinkin’ that what they’re touchin’ might belong to someone else!” he ranted. This was not the time to try and educate him on the fact that the word “belong” was offensive and demeaned you into being property. 

He took a breath that you know was for show because he didn’t actually breathe any longer, and focused on you again. “I know you didn’t flirt with that guy, baby. I know you didn’t ask for him to follow you and touch you. He was just a prick who got his just reward. But I gotta say . . . seeing him try and get your attention . . . it got me a little possessive.” Once again you held your tongue, although that was damn obvious. You weren’t against possessiveness, per se, and had occasionally breathed into his ear that you only wanted him, you were his, those sentiments and the like slipping from your lips as he fucked himself into you, but this was a little more than typical. The standard thrill of his aggressive behavior was there, even if your pulse also pounded out of fear. Beetlejuice gave you a much softer smile, and it almost made you relax. When he stepped up to you again, however, the smile slipped and a rock settled in your gut because your subconscious better recognized the not so sweet intent behind him coming close again. He grabbed the back of your head, his ragged nails catching in your hair. That was not uncommon; his hand being tacky from mostly dried blood was. You gasped and automatically pulled your head back in response. That only made him laugh. “Gotta be a way to show assholes like that you’re mine--” he growled half to himself, but loud enough for your ears too. “Gonna show them you’re mine--”

With that, he spun you around. Off balance because you weren’t expecting it, you fell front first onto the mattress. Before you could twist or protest or anything, you found yourself without a stitch of clothing on; one of his ‘parlor tricks’ that sometimes you liked very much. A new element had been added, however: your arms stretched forward and wrists restrained with exactly what, you didn’t know. You didn’t keep any ties or shackles in your bedroom; there’d never been any talk of tying up or restraint--

“--gonna prove it, I know you know you’re mine, baby, but other people, other people need to know--”

His obsessive rambling didn’t calm you. He drew his tacky hands down your back to the swell of your ass, and he kicked open your legs, putting you in a more precarious position without your feet under you. You heard the soft noise of a zipper, even with both his hands still on you, spreading you open so your pussy was exposed. 

“--I’ll show ‘em, it’ll be a giant neon sign announcing to the world--”

You had no idea what he meant, but could only imagine it was some sort of other phasmagorical trick he could conjure. Maybe he’d brand you with his name? Maybe he’d claw you till you were bleeding, leaving scars which would give other people pause to even talk to you? His cold fingers dragged themselves through the folds of your pussy and automatically your back dipped to allow him better access. He chuckled through his word vomit and now the head of his cock, wider than his fingers, followed their same trail. You relaxed as best you could against the restraints stretching your arms, knowing what was coming next. With one hand still gripping your hip, when Beetlejuice found where he wanted to be he thrust forward and filled your cunt with one motion. With zero preparation and a slaughtering as foreplay, the friction was immense and you cried out. You’d fucked him often enough that he opened you up easily, and the tight drag and pull lit up your nerve endings anyway. Your cry of surprise that devolved into a moan made him chuckle again. The hand he’d used to hold the base of his cock while he seated himself inside you came up and slapped your ass more sharply than you expected and you jumped and yelped, which only spurred him on more. He did it again, this time spanking you lower on your ass. You felt the extra sting of his ring making heavy contact with the thin skin of your upper thigh. 

Through it, he fucked you at a blistering pace. 

You cried out with each thrust; you groaned each time he pulled back. You’d have reached behind yourself to grab at him, to hook your fingers into his waist, or slipped a hand under you to finger your own clit, but neither of those were options since he decided he wanted all the control himself. You had no choice but to enjoy the rough ride. Beetlejuice hadn’t stopped talking, although it was now interspersed with his own guttural groans. “--fuck-fuck-fuck, your fuckin’ cunt is the best, baby--it’s mine an’ I’m gonna make sure people fucking know it--”

Going to your tiptoes, even with your legs spread to accommodate him, helped tilt your pelvis so he managed to thrust against the perfect spot inside you, even if he didn’t do that on purpose. Drool made a wet spot under your cheek on the mattress, because he drove such pleasure into you it was difficult to remember to do something like close your mouth or swallow. “--gonna fucking fill you up, fuck! Gonna, gonna--” Beetlejuice leaned over you, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. He hadn’t shed his clothing, you learned with a start, as the still damp-with-blood fabric of his jacket and shirt chaffed over your back. You wiggled more out of disgust than pleasure at the feeling of it, but he didn’t seem to recognize that subtle difference, or he didn’t care. He moved one hand to entangle itself into your hair again, to steady himself and stretch you back towards him. With his face now against your neck he grunted, “--gonna fill your cunt with come, baby--”

You gasped at those words, and he laughed again. “--oh, you like that? You like the idea of this dead guy’s come up in your pussy, smelling like me, huh? No one’d mess with you then, so full of rot--gonna flood your cunt--”

Was that even possible? Typically he liked to pull out and come on you, and yes it didn’t smell great but it was easily washed away. If he came in you, would the stench linger? The thought terrified you. The thought also excited you. You should be ashamed and alarmed, but just couldn’t be; him positioned on top of you, his cock still hammering into you, throwing sparks of bliss keep into your belly, promising that no one else would want you, you couldn’t do anything but take what he gave you and it was so, so good--

With a howl, you came around his cock, your pussy spasming even as he continued to thrust into you. He was still talking but your ears were ringing, and in another few moments, while you worked to catch your breath, Beetlejuice yanked your hair hard enough to make you cry out, and shoved his hips so hard into you it actually hurt, and groaned during his own release, deep inside you, just as he’d promised. 

He didn’t immediately pull out and roll off of you either, as typical. He stayed right where he was, rocking his hips through his orgasm as if actively working his come to where it needed to be to leave your pregnant. After several moments and slowly feeling like you were going to have to struggle to get him off you so you could draw a full breath, he pushed himself up and back. You heard him fiddling with his fly again, and wondered if he even dropped his trousers during at all. 

As his cock left you a gush of wet soaked you and the edge of the mattress. Beetlejuice grunted and shoved his fingers up against your pussy as if to push his come back in. You stretched and wiggled against the restraints on your wrists, and suddenly they were gone too.

You rolled over, not caring that whatever bloody mess he’d transferred to you would be on your bedding now. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to feel.

The specter still looked like he worked in a particularly unsanitary butcher shop. Instead of stripping or anything else remotely politely human, he dropped onto the bed bedside you and spooned into you, like all this had been normal.

“I fucked up, baby,” he whispered, to your amazement. 

Oh! Maybe he did see that he went overboard and unnecessary!

He sighed and kissed your shoulder. You felt the imprint of his teeth, but he didn’t bite you. In an even lower voice, he continued, “I should’ve kept that guy alive so he could’ve seen all that we just did there. Then I shoulda fuckin’ offed him.” You kept your mouth shut once again, and just lay with him like he wanted. 

fin

[champagne-bucky]

I.O.U.: II

Summary: Bucky is tired of the youngest Avenger having all of Steve's attention. 

Warnings: age gap (reader is of age), smut, dub/non con, dark!Bucky

Notes: Here’s part 2!! I hope you enjoy it! Please reblog, like, comment, and follow me for more :) 

You awoke to the sunlight peeking through. The sheets wrapped securely around your body. Stretching, you made your way to get dressed for another day of recon. 

Making your way to the bathroom, you brushed your teeth and fixed your hair before heading to the lobby to take advantage of the free breakfast and coffee. Just then you hear someone groan. 

“Wakey, wakey, sleepyheads. Gotta whole day of recon ahead of us.” You cheerfully said as you walked downstairs. 

You decided you weren’t going to let Bucky seeing your body ruin this mission. Every one has a body, it’s just you put yours out on fully display for the person who hates you the most. Running back to the room, both boys were up and ready to get going. 

“How was breakfast, did they have your favorite apple juice.” Bucky teased again. He honestly has no right to be talking to you like that considering a mere few hours ago he was jerking off to your ass and pussy. 

“Ha ha very funny Barnes, should’ve been a comedian instead of a soldier.” You jabbed back while heading to the car.

—

Today was more serious, you were posted back on on your usual spot just waiting for any suspicious activity, but nothing. Until, you see a man giving the infamous Hydra gesture to a woman running a bakery.

That’s odd.

You figure you might as well call it in. At least Sam and Bucky can track someone down. 

Sam and Bucky were posted outside the bakery waiting for their guy to come out. They knew that one slip up would be enough to take the agents out. It was basically confirmed that this was Hydra territory.

“You wanna do the honors or should I?” Bucky asks Sam.

“Please, after me.” Sam get up and busts through the door.

Fucking show off. 

Bucky cocks his gun ready to fight.

—

You lay on the grassy hills in shock watching the scene unfold. Bucky and Sam managed to take out a full building of Hydra agents and you were just sitting like a duck. The village was starting to become more vacant as people were clearing the streets and hiding out. 

“Hey Y/N, we need back up. Nows your time to shine.” Sam called.

You raced down the hills and stealthily made your way through the village. You hadn’t used you powers since the Thanos fight, so you may be a little rusty. However, you proved yourself wrong and began blasting agents left and right. It seemed like there were so many occupying this area. 

Meanwhile, Bucky and Sam were clearing another building to get the files. Once Bucky has them uploaded they began to make their way out. That is until a bomb decided to go off. 

You heard the explosion coming from the distance and levitated you way over. Assessing the damage, unwanted anger rose within you. Bucky and Sam were probably in there. Why else did Hydra choose to bomb this building? Just then the sound of a gun clicking behind your head draws your attention.

“Now, now, little one. Just come with us and we can help you. We don’t want to hurt you.” An agent looked at you with a smirk. 

Tears started forming in your eyes. Sam and Bucky. They were gone, or at least, suffocating under the buildings rubble. You didn’t know what happened you just snapped. They’ve been through way too much to die like this. You were fuming and the aura around your body was turning bright blue. Then, you blinked. 

You don't know what you did. All you know is that there was tons of dead bodies surround you. It looked as if a bigger bomb went off.

"Sam? Bucky?" You yelled out as you began to move chunks of the building away. 

Suddenly, you saw Bucky's metal hand beneath the rubble. You levitated the crumbled concrete off of them and freed them. They staggered out clearly hurt, various bruises and trickles of blood all over their bodies. 

"Kid," Sam looked around at the scene, “ what did you do?” 

Finally being able to look around at the damage, you couldn’t help but gasp. Hundreds upon hundreds of bodies laid on the ground, motionless. You stood frozen, tears threatening to spill. 

I killed all these people. 

While some were Hydra agents you knew you killed innocent civilians as well. You didn’t even realize the gravel shifting below your knees and the hand on your shoulder until it pulled you up.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.” Sam ushered you to the car.

—

Bucky was throughly impressed. He always underestimated you, but this time you proved yourself beyond worthy regarding your place on the team. However, you didn’t think so.

Boarding the jet, you sat in the back, knees up to your chest, emotionless. So many bodies littered throughout that village, and they just left them there to rot. Well, they wouldn’t rot, surely the government or S.H.I.E.L.D were notified to take care of the problem. 

Sleep didn’t come easy that night. You were tossing and turning so much that Bucky yelled at you to pipe down, stupid enhanced hearing. The boys on the other hand didn’t seemed phased at all. They’ve both seen worse, it’s just that they never thought you were strong enough to wipe out a whole village.

When the jet made its way back to the compound, you attempted to run and hide to your room before Sam caught you. 

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Listen, kid, you did what you had to do. It’s not your fault. You actually saved us a lot of trouble. So don’t lose any sleep over what happened. Bucky and I have seen and done much worse trust me.” Sam offered you a kind smile before letting you go. 

—

Turns out, Steve was held up for a few more days, meaning you were living in a constant state of anxiety. Steve would be beyond pissed when he found out what happened. He’d probably even kick you off the team.

Bucky realized this and the wheels in his head started turning. Ever since that night he couldn’t get you off his mind. The person he hated the most became his new guilty pleasure. Over the next few days at the compound, he would secretly be following you around. He knew your routine down pat by now, although knowing how much honey you put in your tea isn’t exactly something he cared to know about you. No, Bucky wanted more. He wanted to see your body again, wanted to undress it, kiss it, play with it. He wanted you under him withering and begging for more. Bucky wouldn’t say he had a crush on you, he still is mad that you garner all of Steve’s attention, he just wants you body sexually and nothing more. 

He needed a plan. He needed you, craved for you, but how would he get you? Drunken one nights stands weren’t exactly your thing, hell he’s pretty sure he’s never seen you touch a bottle. Friends with benefits? Nah, you gotta be friends first before that happens. Bucky became obsessed with you more and more as the hours passed. 

On laundry day, he was trying to dry his clothes when he saw that somebody, you, never came back down to get your stuff. 

Just a little peak won’t hurt anybody right? 

Like a madman, Bucky started to dig through your garments. Bras, shorts, shirts, and then he found them, panties. He pick them out and laid them on top of the dryer. Inspecting each one. 

Looks like we have a naughty little thing on our hands don’t we? 

Bucky chuckles darkly and he picks up your deep red lace thong. He smiles and takes a deep long whiff. He wants you to be wearing these when he fucks you for the first time. He imagines you right now: ass up, breast hanging, your tight little pussy begging to be pounded. 

I’ll start off slow. Feel her up a little, get her all nice and wet for me. Fuckkkk she’s gonna be a mess. A few spanks here and there, maybe fill her mouth up, then the show begins. 

Bucky subconsciously put his hand with the panties in his pants and started to jerk off. He’s thinking again. Thinking of all the things he’s do. 

I’m gonna ruin that brat. Gonna show her she’s nothing more than my whore. Gonna show Steve his innocent baby is a filthy cock slut. Gonna tie her down, blindfold her, spank her, fuck I’m gonna make her feel me till the day she dies. 

Bucky came again. Hard. He came through his pants and dirtied the clean underwear. 

“Well, that’s going back in the hamper.”

Bucky chuckles before stuffing the panties in his pocket  

—

Sleep doesn’t come easy to you anymore. You lay awake at night, tossing and turning, every time you shut your eyes the dead bodies are there. A killer, murderer, monster, you can see all the headlines now. 

AVENGER SLAUGHTERS HUNDREDS IN FRANCE.

How were you ever to face Steve and tell him? You can’t imagine his face, he’s gonna be fuming. What will the team think of you? I’m sure Tony will try and lock you away, maybe they’ll stabilize you powers like they did to you and Wanda. God that hurt. You were born with your powers so stabilizing that part of your body is basically like half of your body dying. 

You were a mess. Bags under your eyes constantly, sleep deprived, you missed about all of your schedule training sessions with Sam. Sam understood though, he knows being surrounded by all that death and gore takes a toll on a person one way or another, he just didn’t think you would take it so hard considering the circumstances. 

Bucky was getting antsy. He would see you leave you room less and less. Surely you has been skipping some meals, you looked weak and pale. In that moment Bucky actually has sympathy for you. When he was the soldier he was constantly axing people off left and right. He remembers the screams, cries, blood, he shivers at the thought and pushes them back in his mind. He need to make his move, fast. You haven’t noticed the missing panties yet, not that you would be able to recognize them now.

Bucky thought about sneaking into your room while you were asleep. Maybe grab himself a fresh pair of panties and jack off to your unconscious body, but you don’t sleep anymore. He would walk past your room at night and try to find out if you were awake, he would hear your soft cries and the bed moving every second. He knows you need this, something to take the edge off. 

—-

“Alright kid, you’ve wallowed long enough. I’m tired of you dodging our training sessions. If you expect to be pulling your own on this team then I suggest you get your ass down to the training room in 5 minutes.” Sam yelled at you. 

Sam has enough of your despair. You didn’t understand why. People died and you were the cause of it all. Bucky watched your altercation with Sam. He didn’t understand either. He guessed you were afraid of how Steve would react. To be fair, Steve didn’t want you out on the field in combat, so maybe she’s worried he’ll get mad at her for that. 

Bucky saw you slump on couch, sulking. He decided to talk to you. This was just an opportunity for him to get close to you, he really couldn’t care less about hearing what you had to say. 

“What’s you problem.” He asks. 

“I killed them,” tears are starting to form again,   “all those innocent people are dead because of me.”

Innocent? 

Then, something clicked in Bucky’s head. It was evil sure, but he need to feel something with you again. 

“Steve’s going to kill me, Bucky. He’s gonna kick me off the team for sure.” You start crying. 

“Steve’s not gonna kill you, because he’s not gonna find out.” Bucky finally spoke. 

“Huh?” 

“I’ll do you a favor. I’ll tell Stevie you were an angel the whole time. I’ll tell him I ordered you to do the strike. You didn’t want to, got it? In return you gotta do something for me okay?” 

You eyes lit up. Bucky’s showing you actual kindness, a hint of friendship even? 

“Yes, yes, Bucky, thank you! I’ll do anything for you I swear, whatever you want!” You smiled and hugged Bucky. He got a little hard when you tits pressed against his chest. 

You walked down to the training room. Bucky knew what he was doing. It was awful, but it would be worth it in the end. You both needed this. You both wanted it, even if you didn’t admit it. 

You thought those people were innocent? I guess that falls on Bucky. He remembered when he got back to his room after France. That lone mission report he was suppose to give you, he forgot. He’s glad he did though. Bucky didn’t have the guts to tell you that they weren’t innocent people. You single handily wiped out an entire village full of Hydra agents in disguise. That was one less base to worry about. Really saved them months of work trying to tear it down. Of course he was gonna tell Steve. It would get out eventually when it makes national news. However, Bucky would never tell you that. 

tags: reblog to be added!! 

  @lacontroller1991 @ladifreakingda @chipilerendi @crookedlymassivecrown

[emeraldwaves]

Title: The Pirate Queen Pairing: Kacchako Part 1 Rating: T Word Count:  4,017 Summary: Admiral Bakugou Katsuki is tired of the "Pirate Queen", Uraraka Ochako eluding him and his captains. Slowly, she becomes all he can think about. But only because he vows to chase her down and capture her once and for all.

AO3

This is for the @kacchakosecretsanta event for @intheafterall !! I did a pirate AU! With Pirate!Ochako and Admiral!Bakugou I hope you enjoy this!! This is part 1/4 and all of it is written I just split it up to be an easier read. Thanks to @liziscribbles for betaing!

The knife slammed down into the table, tearing through the map. Smacking both of his hands against the table, Bakugou growled in frustration.

"The fuck are you idiots doing!?" he snapped.

Neither of the young officers wished to answer, too scared of the wrath they were certain to incur. Bakugou's red eyes immediately narrowed, his fingers trembling with rage as they dragged along the map and slowly curled into fists.

"Admiral..." Kirishima began softly. "You know how she is... we-"

"Let me fucking guess... you tried," he hissed. "You tried to catch her, even though the spot was marked perfectly on the map. Our informant gave us all the damn information you needed."

"W-We're starting to think they might not be as reliable as we think. Or... she's feeding information purposefully," Kaminari stammered.

"I should've gone my fucking self. I've got fucking Todoroki breathing down my neck. This pirate situation isn't getting any better and the last thing I need is him questioning what the hell we're doing over here!"

Bakugou flipped the back of his jacket up as he took a seat in the chair and rubbed his forehead. "This is the fourth time we've failed," he growled. "What the hell is happening?"

"Her ship is fast," Kaminari explained. "It's like it floats on water!"

"I know what her fucking ship is like," Bakugou hissed. "I still don't know where the hell it came from, but I know it's fast."

"Her crew is strong. Talented. They're the best of the best! I would almost guess you trained them yourself, they're so strong!" Kirishima snorted.

Bakugou's grip on the chair tightened. "Do you want me to pull my pants down so you can kiss my ass harder, Captain?" he hissed and Kirishima's face turned as red as his damn hair.

"N-No..." he stammered.

"I mean... they call her the Pirate Queen for a reason," Kaminari added.

"I don't care what people call her. I will dethrone her and behead her for all to see. No pirates will roam my waters," he hissed.

"Well... technically the waters belong to the Prince," Kaminari hummed softly.

"Does the ocean really belong to anyone?" Kirishima asked, tapping his finger against his chin.

Bakugou grumbled, squeezing his hands against the arms of the chair. "I'll kill you both..."

"S-Sorry, sir..." Kaminari laughed softly, rubbing his hand against his neck.

"Gather your crew, Kirishima," Bakugou muttered, pushing himself out of the chair. He reached towards the map and grabbed his knife. "We're going after her."

"But Bakugou... we don't even know where she is anymore! No one hasn't sent word, and we've been unable to track her ship at all..." Kirishima spoke quickly, rushing his words as Bakugou brushed past him.

"I don't care. I will find her ship and destroy it. If we kill the 'Pirate Queen', we'll set an example for all to see. Pirating will not be tolerated by myself or the Prince..." he growled.

"Since when have you cared so much about what the damn Prince wants," Kirishima folded his arms. "It could be dangerous and costly to take a crew out if you don't know where you're going."

"His coronation is coming up..." Bakugou growled, tucking his knife away. "He's spoken openly about making the waters safer for travel and exports, and I don't feel like listening to him yell at me when we can't handle one puny pirate ship! The guy is annoying as fuck." He spoke the last words quietly. Slandering the Prince's name was something he knew he could get away with in front of these two, but didn't particularly care to get in trouble if anyone overheard.

"Right... but getting rid of her isn't going to get rid of all pirates," Kirishima said. "With... all due respect sir, I think we should consider waiting-"

"WAITING!? I'm tired of waiting for you morons to get shit done when I could've done it myself months ago!" he snapped.

She appeared seemingly out of nowhere... Uraraka Ochako was the name provided to him when Prince Todoroki Shouto's ship was attacked on return from visiting his fiancée, the Lady Yaoyorozu Momo. The Lady was meant to travel across the sea for the coronation ceremony, but the prince was hesitant to have her do so with so many pirates on the loose.

As Admiral of the Todoroki fleet... Bakugou was in charge of taking care of this problem—namely Uraraka Ochako.

Pirates existed before her, but most of them were far too scared of the Admiral's fleet to actually try anything. He was respected amongst his men, and considered one of the best Admirals the fleet had ever seen. He captured pirates and protected the seas. It was his duty to do so, and he did a damn good job.

But Uraraka Ochako was different. She laughed in his face, speeding around his ocean in her ship, which appeared to float atop the water.

And she was immediately dubbed the Pirate Queen, for being able to constantly outrun various ships in the fleet.

According to reports, she never actually killed anyone. She stole money, jewels, and treasure, but she rarely harmed a soul. How she could do that was beyond him. In fact, her whole being was mystery to Admiral Bakugou Katsuki. Though Kaminari and Kirishima were two of his most trusted comrades from his early days in the fleet, they continued to prove if Bakugou wanted something done correctly, he had to do it his damn self.

Indeed, Pirate Queen Uraraka Ochako never had to deal with the Admiral Bakugou Katsuki himself, and he was going to give her a helluva time.

"Get your crew together," he hissed again. Just thinking about her made him want blow some shit up.

"But..."

"Kirishima! Don't make me pull rank with you," Bakugou growled. "I will be getting rid of this... Pirate Queen once and for all!"

"I just really don't know if this is going to solve all the pirate problems we're dealing with..." Kirishima begged. "Let's at least try and get some word-"

"You're an idiot if you don't think I have some sort of plan." Bakugou snapped, cutting Kirishima off. He didn't wish to deal with the idiocy anymore.

Bakugou clenched his fists at his side. "She is the main problem… Uraraka... Ochako."

~~

The ocean breeze was always calm in the morning, her brown locks brushing over her round, pink cheeks. The salty air tickled her nose and she hummed softly, enjoying the relaxing sway of the boat while she lay in the crow's nest.

"Captain!" A frantic voice called out and she shot up, her hair tossed about every which way.

She blinked, realizing the sun was far higher in the sky than she initially realized and she probably shouldn't have been lazing around all day. She gently stroked her finger over the golden locket around her neck. No, she was never one for being lazy.

"Captain!" the voice repeated, "Are you up there!?"

"Ah! Deku!" she called back, leaning over the edge. "I'll be right down!" Leaping forward, she grabbed one of the ropes from the sail and swung down, her body twirling around the large mast as she dropped to the deck.

Deku blinked, watching as she stood up, looking completely unfazed. "You know you can just call me Ochako if you want," she said. "I know I'm technically your Captain, but at this point, it's safe to say we're friends."

"But... you're the Captain," Deku mumbled, biting his lip.

"Oh, you and Iida need to stop doing this," she snorted. "I know you're ex-navy but we don't have to be so formal here!"

"I know, I know, you always say this!" he chuckled.

"And one of these days you two will listen!" she giggled. "Anyway, what's up?"

"A-AH! Right!" Deku gasped. "The Prince's fleet... word is... Admiral Bakugou isn't happy with you."

Uraraka couldn't help but smirk. "The Admiral himself?" she hummed, rocking back and forth on her feet. The sash around her belt swayed against her leg and she hopped to the side, bouncing in her boots. "I guess he's finally tired of sending his crew out to do his dirty work."

"Well... according to my sources," Deku began, flipping through the log book he held, "it seems the Prince's fiancée will be traveling across the sea for his coronation and their wedding very soon."

Uraraka's eyes lit up. "Oh?"

"U-Uraraka..." Deku stammered, already disliking the look in her eyes. Her entire crew was familiar with that particular look...

"Deku! Don't you realize the kind of treasure that would be on those ships?!" she said, rubbing her hands together.

"The second Iida hears about this he's never going to approve," Deku sighed.

"Mmm. I'm the Captain of the Uravity!" she laughed. "Iida's gonna have to do what I say!"

"I know..." Deku said, twisting his lips to the side.

She clasped her hands behind her, walking to the edge of the ship. "I know it's risky," she whispered. "But think... of all the people we could help with that money."

Deku walked to stand next to her, watching the small waves gently lap against the side of their large ship. He pursed his lips, nodding. "Yeah I know."

"Other people deserve that money more," she said. "It's not like I think the Prince or the Lady are bad people. As far as rulers go, they seem very... kind actually. But why can't we distribute it more..."

"And this is why you're the Queen," he smirked, gently tapping his fingers against the book.

"Please, I'm not a Queen," Uraraka replied quickly, her pink cheeks flushing. She waved her hand back and forth. "Deku... I just want to help people, even if it's not the most, uh, legal way to do so!" she laughed. "This is... what I'm good at. Might as well embrace it right?"

Uraraka never expected to be the 'queen of the pirates'. In fact, she never planned on doing much of anything. As the daughter of poor farmers, she expected to inherit the land and work for her parents for her entire life.

However, it all changed when her village was attacked by a band of rogue pirates. They plundered the land, stealing everything from the poor. The only thing left from her village Uraraka owned was the small golden locket she wore around her neck. And, being the young girl she was, Uraraka was taken by the pirates.

Assuming she would be sold off, Uraraka wasn't going down without a fight. She impressed the captain at the time through her diligence and hard work as a kitchen girl and lookout. So instead, he took her under his wing.

Uraraka learned quickly to follow his instructions if she did not wish to die. She watched silently as they stole money and greedily hoarded it for themselves over and over. Poor folk were left even poorer, and Uraraka knew she couldn't let it stand.

She made a pact with herself; if this was to be her life, she would find a way to make it good.

When the captain finally died, Uraraka was one of the first to strike up her sword. After spending years practicing her swordsmanship skills, she struck down his crew, banishing them from what was now her ship.

The Uravity.

It was then she assembled her own crew of like minded people. Her mission was a simple one. They stole from the wealthy and gave it back to the poor. And though what they did was illegal, she knew it was also right.

It was why so many people chose to join her.

She smiled at Deku. "I just... want to do what's best for people like my parents. People who deserve to be... taken care of."

"I know," Deku nodded. "And while you may not consider yourself a Queen... we all know you're one of the kindest, most thoughtful people around."

"Maybe," she giggled. "But I still could go to prison!"

She turned her gaze back out the sea, watching the waves rise and fall gently. The open ocean was a strange entity. One moment it was like this, calm, soft rolling waves, and then next it could eat you alive with it's angry storms and thrashing waves. But, right now, enveloped by the salty sea air and bright sun, Uraraka never felt more alive.

This was her home. Her ship was a beautiful thing, and Uraraka had come to respect the water surrounding them. Even if she didn't technically choose this life, she like to think it chose her.

"I don't think there's anything wrong with what you do-well, okay..." Deku hummed, rubbing the back of his neck. "There are some things wrong but... I do think... helping people... even if you are stealing... is a good thing."

"Well... I don't ever want anyone to live like I did... like my parents did," she whispered.

"At this rate they won't," Deku said gently.

"Right!" Uraraka clapped her hands together. "If anyone needs me, I'll be in my quarters. Got lots of planning to do! And tell Iida, I won't be changing my mind," she called out, waving to Deku as she hopped down towards the entryway to the living quarters. Knowing Deku, he probably wouldn't tell Iida a thing and by the time they approached the ships, well, it would be far too late to turn back.

She stepped into her quarters and placed her long jacket over the chair. She smoothed her hand over the map laying on her desk. "The Admiral, huh," she whispered. Was she really so infamous the Admiral had to come after her himself?

Uraraka had never met the man, but she heard stories. He was young, but he climbed the ranks with his sheer tenacity. He was apparently an unstoppable force, that she indirectly stopped. She couldn't imagine he liked her very much, and she reveled in the fact.

Going after the ships the Lady Momo would be traveling with was a risky move. Surely, she would be guarded by various navy ships. Thinking it over, Uraraka could only assume it would be a trap.

A smirk pulled across her lips. "All the more reason to go."

~~

"I don't like it," Todoroki huffed, folding his arms across his chest. "You'll be putting the Lady in direct danger. She is my fiancée and I wish for her to be protected."

Bakugou clicked his tongue. "We won't be putting anyone in danger. The entirety of the royal naval fleet will be there."

"And why should I have any faith that you can keep her safe when you haven't been able to catch this woman?" Todoroki stated bluntly.

Clenching his fists by his side, Bakugou bit down hard on his lip, not wanting to say anything rude to his Prince. Why the fuck was this asshole in charge?

Todoroki stepped down from his throne, glaring at Bakugou. "I need to get the Lady Momo here. We are to be married soon and I wish for her to be by my side during the coronation," he explained. "However, having her travel in this very public fleet doesn't seem like such a good idea. I don't... like it."

"I can assure you," Bakugou said, his voice slipping through his grit teeth, "nothing will happen to your woman. This is a good fuckin' chance to catch this bitch. Don't let me lose this opportunity Todoroki," he growled.

"Hm..." Todoroki hummed, pressing his finger against his chin. "I don't wish to put the Lady in danger, but I do recognize the problem this... Pirate Queen is causing," he sighed. "I believe the best solution would be to use a decoy ship. The Lady can travel in the smaller ship far behind the main fleet."

"You're not such an idiot after all," Bakugou muttered.

Todoroki was quick to roll his eyes. "I really shouldn't allow you to speak to the Prince like that-"

"Shaddup Half and Half!" Bakugou snapped. "I'm getting shit done for you, you should be fucking grateful!"

"Bakugou..." he muttered.

"We'll do the decoy ship plan. I'll send one ship with my strongest men to escort your woman, and the rest of them will follow the decoy. I'll stay with the decoy and finally take that bitch down."

A smirk pulled across his lips. What he didn’t tell the Prince was that he thought Uraraka would be smart enough to guess this would be their plan. He would stay with the Lady and keep her safe himself. Todoroki didn’t need to know Bakugou expected Uraraka to find Momo’s ship.

"I swear," Todoroki hissed, stepping towards him. "If anything happens to Momo because of your goddamn plan, I will kill you."

"Calm down," Bakugou said, rolling his eyes. "Nothing is going to happen to your damn woman!"

A sigh slipped from Todoroki's lips. "I really wish you wouldn't talk to your Prince like this."

"Oh shove it," he snarled, folding his arms across his chest.

Ignoring Bakugou's obnoxious behavior, Todoroki walked past him. "Everyone knows the Lady will be traveling to me. It isn't exactly hidden information. The 'Queen' will obviously go after the decoy," he lied quietly. "I do believe this is our best option for us both to get what we wish. Lady Momo will arrive on the mainland safely, while Uraraka Ochako is apprehended and taken into your custody.

"I will hang her and make an example of her for all pirates to see. I will not let her make a fucking fool of us any more," he hissed.

Todoroki raised his eyebrow. "A harsh punishment."

"Would you want me to spare her?!" he frowned.

"Not necessarily. Though I guess... I am curious what you think of the rumors."

"The fuck you talkin' about Prince" he asked angrily.

"They say she only takes treasure from wealthy ships, and apparently she redistributes the money among... poorer citizens. That's why they call her a Queen."

"What Queen has ever done shit like that?" Bakugou snorted.

"Touche," Todoroki nodded. "I wonder where her moral compass falls exactly. Apparently she hasn't even killed anyone."

"Does it matter?" Bakugou growled. "She's committing crimes! She's stealing! Shouldn't you be more concerned with this? Shattering your order or whatever the fuck?"

"Hm," Todoroki twisted his lips. "Maybe I should be. However, I am more concerned with violent pirates."

Bakugou resisted every urge to slap him. "I'm going to fucking kill her. She might be 'a good person', but that doesn't mean all pirates who follow after her will be as good," he hissed.

"...Keep Momo safe." Todoroki stated flatly. A tired sigh left his lips. "And if you catch Uraraka, do with her what you will."

"Oh, I fuckin' will," he growled, storming out to leave Todoroki alone in the throne room.

~~

"The Admiral probably thinks I'm not very intelligent," Uraraka began with a laugh. She ran her finger over the edge of her locket, pursing her lips.

Ashido raised her eyebrow leaning against the desk. "What makes you think that?"

"Well there's no way the Prince would simply send his Lady across the ocean so publicly. He's practically asking for her to be attacked!" she said.

Everyone was well aware of how much the Prince seemed to adore the Lady Momo. Though they were betrothed at a young age, the two seemed close and happy, at least to the public.

"I believe this grand fleet they've set up is a decoy."

"Well," Ashido sighed, "you did say the Admiral is out to get you."

"Mhm. I think he's trying to set up a trap. He probably plans to have one ship with guards following behind this main parade of ships," she said, pointing on the map where she believed the ships would be.

"I agree, it is obviously a trap." Iida said, moving his hand up and down rigidly. "I think we should avoid this altogether."

"Boooooring," Ashido snorted. "Ochako, why did you let these losers join our crew again?" she asked, leaning towards Iida to bop him on the forehead.

"Ashido! I would like to ask you to refrain from hitting me on the forehead," Iida scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Because Iida and Deku are good people. They're both very intelligent and I trust their opinions," Ochako smiled.

"Yeah Mina, calm down," Sero teased, nudging her side.

"Do you plan to follow the smaller ship?" Iida asked, ignoring Ashido and Sero playfully arguing in the corner.

"Mmm..." Deku tapped his chin. "It might be a good idea to send another ship towards the main fleet as a decoy."

"But we don't have another ship," Ashido was quick to point out.

"If we had another ship, I would agree with you," Uraraka nodded, adjusting her hat on her head. "But as it stands we only have the Uravity. I don't want to involve another crew and have to potentially split treasure with them! Or have them take it for themselves..."

Admittedly, Uraraka wasn't very trusting of other pirates.

"Right..." Deku muttered sadly. "Then, we should head directly for the Lady Momo's ship. I do think it'll follow behind in case of ambush. It's most likely safer farther back."

"You're right," Uraraka said, and slid their small boat replica across the map, pushing it towards the back of the fleet she drew up.

"Do you think the Admiral will be with the fleet?" Sero asked, "Or will he stay with the Lady?"

Deku twisted his lips, looking deep in thought. Of her entire crew, Deku and Iida were the only two to actually have any sort of contact with the Admiral. Deku always spoke highly of him, though he also explained Bakugou never was very well liked in the fleet. "I don't know..." he admitted. "The thing is... he's very intelligent. It just depends on how smart he thinks you are, Uraraka. Given your history... I have a feeling he'll be with the Lady."

"Then we'll prepare for a battle," she said.

"I still say it might be best if we all... stay away from this. Other ships will be around and the navy will be completely distracted with this task... wouldn't it be a good idea to go after others right now?" Iida suggested.

"That would probably be the safe thing to do." Uraraka nodded sagely, then giggled. "But since when have we ever done the safe thing?"

"That's my girl!" Ashido cheered.

"Prepare the ship," Uraraka said. "We don't have much time and I want to be sure to make it to the ship route by dawn."

Iida rubbed his hands together. "Are you sure this is what you want to do?"

"Positive," Uraraka nodded. "I'm not scared of the Admiral and I'm not going to back down from his very obvious challenge!"

"You are a brave woman, Uraraka," Deku stammered. "The Admiral is strong and a talented tactician. He's young and climbed the ranks due to his ruthless ways and intelligence."

"Yeah? Well... he could be an old fart and I'd still go after him," she giggled. "I'm not scared of him! We're the best pirates on this ocean, and I refuse to be scared off by some Admiral who has been too lazy to come after me himself until now."

Ashido laughed. "I know you're both kinda new here, so maybe you don't fully understand why Uraraka is the Pirate Queen?" she smiled, rocking back and forth on her feet. "But she's gonna kick the Admiral's ass. Just you watch." She winked, tossing her pink hair back over her shoulder, as she followed Uraraka out of the main cabin.

"You really don't have to call me a queen," she said, shaking her head, making her way towards the front of her ship. She wasn't scared; in fact the challenge really did excite her. Things had been getting a little boring as of late. "I will be showing The Admiral I'm a force to be reckoned with!" she smirked, looking out over her crew.

"Hoist the sails!"

And with Uraraka's command, they were off.

[chiseler]

Happy Cal Stewart, Yankee Comedian

There was very little that was original about Cal Stewart’s routine. He was simply very good at embodying what had, on the vaudeville circuit, become a well established stock character type. But thanks to some fortuitous timing, Stewart, and his alter ego Uncle Josh Weathersby, became perhaps the most popular and influential comedian of the early recording era. His fame was on a par with Mark Twain’s or Will Rogers’s, but his stardom was a direct result of the advent of the phonograph.

The only thing known about Stewart’s parents—and this only by way of his death certificate—was that they had immigrated from Scotland and settled in Charlotte County, Virginia, where Stewart was born in 1856. By his own account—and I should note here that his accounts tended to change depending on his audience, the weather, and the time of day—Stewart left home early and wandered the country, picking up jobs here and there as he went. He was a miner, a lumberjack, a short order cook, and traveled with a medicine show. More than anything, however, he worked a series of low-level jobs for the railroads, where he earned a reputation as a colorful storyteller.

Although by most accounts Stewart had no fixed address, he spent a lot of time in Decatur, Illinois. Decatur was a major railway hub at the time, and the locals came to consider him one of their own. He was so familiar a presence around town he came to be dubbed Happy Cal Stewart on account of his lighthearted demeanor regardless of the circumstances. The moniker would stick, at least for a little while.

His skills as a storyteller  soon began landing him side jobs as a public speaker, and in the 1870s, while working on a train that was carrying a touring production of Uncle Tom’s Cabin from stop to stop, Stewart volunteered to fill in for an actor who was regularly too drunk to perform. Despite that brief taste of the limelight, Stewart continued working for the railroads until 1894, when the combination of a railroad strike and an accident that cost him a finger and several toes convinced him to look for other work.

Given his background, personality and the times, vaudeville seemed the obvious next step. He began by working in blackface and as a general purpose comedian, impressionist, and storyteller. It was around 1896 that his Uncle Josh character began to emerge.

Now, lampooning New Englanders (particularly the accent) in lowbrow American entertainment can be traced back to the late 18th century, but in the decades following the Civil War it coalesced into a stock comic character, a farmer who was both naive and shrewd, a little uptight but rustic. For some reason, all these characters seemed to be named “Uncle Josh.” There were dozens of Uncle Josh comedians out there on the circuit long before Stewart came along, all with different last names. A few of them, in fact, came to be mighty popular. Although Stewart would later claim his own Uncle Josh character just came to him naturally, he had plenty of predecessors to build on.

Initially Stewart’s Uncle Josh Weathersby hailed from New Jersey, but he quickly transplanted him to the north, smack dab in the middle of the fictional rural Yankee town of Punkin Center. And though originally the act was designed for a male and female comic duo, with that hick Uncle Josh matching wits with a sophisticated woman from the city, soon enough Stewart went solo, turning the routine into a comic monologue about the assorted small adventures, tall tales and colorful characters in and around Punkin Center.

“One day Harold Wheeland had a bunch of colored Easter eggs he wanted to hide from the kids, so he went into the barn and stuck ‘em under his brown hen. Well, I’ll tell ya, when that rooster came into the barn and took one look at what was goin’ on, he marched right across the field and beat up a peacock.”

By 1897 Stewart’s vaudeville routine had become popular enough that Berliner Recordings invited him into the studio to record a cylinder for them. The result was “A Talk by Happy Cal Stewart, The Yankee Comedian,” in which he essentially edited his standard vaudeville monologue at the time down to about three minutes. The job earned him a check so of course he took it, but he likely thought, with sound recording being such a novelty at that point, it would be the last one he ever did.

About six months later, Edison’s National Recording Company conscripted Stewart to record a series of twelve Uncle Josh discs. Most of them were, likewise, condensed vaudeville routines, like “Uncle Josh’s Arrival in New York,” “Uncle Josh in Society,” and “Uncle Josh’s Invitation to Visit His Farm.” He also recorded several comic songs including “I’m Old But I’m Awfully Tough” and “Paper from Your Own Hometown.”

The discs were a hit, and Stewart became an overnight national sensation, at least in late 19th century terms. He relocated to New York. Although he didn’t leave vaudeville completely behind him, his efforts were definitely concentrated on becoming a recording artist. Without anything resembling an exclusive contract with Edison, and considering he was paid a flat fee for every cylinder he recorded, he soon began recording for Columbia, Victor, Berliner, and a dozen other little recording outfits now long since forgotten, often recording the same monologues for several different labels.

Which brings us to his laugh—the sort of half cackle, half chuckle that soon became Stewart’s trademark.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bb5StJh8M_I

Stewart’s Uncle Josh almost never laughed during his live stage routine, as he had an audience right there to take care of that for him. Once in the studio, however, having lost that live audience and moreover having lost a number of the visual gags that were part of his act, he had to do something, so in essence he provided his own laugh track.

In the very early recordings there’s almost a desperation about it, with Stewart letting loose with a cackle every time he pauses to take a breath. It becomes a distraction and at times overwhelms the story he’s telling. As he cut more and more discs—and this may be where his genius as a performer lay—he came to better understand the art of recording. The laugh became a more genial chuckle, and more carefully placed. While at first he was laughing with every breath, soon it was with every punchline, and later still only with every third or fourth punchline. Some historians have argued that Stewart’s laughter was deliberately dropped in the recordings at specific points  to give listeners themselves a pause in which they could laugh at home without missing any of the material. Whatever the case, the stories once again took dominance and, as much as his laconic vocal mannerisms,  the laughter merely became part of Uncle Josh’s personality.

Uncle Josh discs became so popular that whenever anyone put one on the Victrola in a store, small crowds would gather to listen, while other people, it’s said, would call friends and family to play them over the phone.

In 1901, Stewart divorced his first wife and married his second, Florence, who performed with him whenever he went back to the stage, and collaborated with him on the recordings. The latter is more interesting, because while female comic actors were commonplace in vaudeville and female singers commonplace on early Edison and Columbia recordings, Florence may have been the first female comic actor to appear on record.

In the years following the turn of the century, the recording industry was changing quickly, not only in terms of technology, but in the way artists were treated. Up to that point, as mentioned above, Stewart was paid a flat fee for each cylinder recorded, meaning he had to scramble from studio to studio in order to make any money. It was exhausting work, and Stewart found himself spending most of his waking hours in recording studios. But in 1903 Columbia, who had been touting Stewart as one of their top-selling recording artists since the late 1890s, offered him an exclusive contract. The pay was good, but better still the work was easier and it left him with the time to return to the stage now and again. He also had more freedom in terms of what he recorded. Along with his wife, he collected a small ensemble of actors and began recording more elaborate sketches. Uncle Josh remained front and center, but these new discs included several characters and sound effects. Bestselling discs like “Uncle Josh Buys an Automobile” and “The Moving Pictures Come to Punkin Center” soon followed.

That same year, 1903, a publisher conscripted Stewart to write down some of his most popular monologues, which they released as a book entitled, obviously enough, Punkin Center Stories. Stewart was a bit of a writer as it was, having already published a handful of Westerns, but by most accounts he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of the book from the start. Uncle Josh was definitely in the oral tradition, and the stories were supposed to be spoken and heard, not read. Stewart rarely wrote the monologues down and they changed and evolved as he told them.

Apart from some aesthetic discomfort, the Punkin Center Stories led to other problems. Using the stories as scripts, other comedians began recording and releasing their own versions of Stewart’s monologues, usually with unremarkable results. Stewart, needless to say, never saw a dine from any of these imposters.

Unlike songwriters who received residuals when their compositions were performed by other artists, Columbia’s contract offered Stewart nothing by way of royalties . Demanding his monologues be treated like musical compositions, in 1911 Stewart left Columbia and signed with Edison’s National Recording Company, which did offer to pay royalties. Just to ensure he’d get something out of the deal, Stewart began writing and recording more original comic songs.

In 1914, Stewart married his third wife, an actress and violinist. Only problem there was, there seems to be no record of him ever divorcing Florence. Florence did suddenly disappear from his recordings, and while the new wife never appeared on record, she did perform with Stewart onstage. Although there were some mutterings about it in some of the trade papers of the day, some wild speculation about Uncle Josh and his two wives, it doesn’t seem to have become much of a scandal. Not enough to hurt his career, anyway.

In 1916, Stewart suffered a small stroke and collapsed during a recording session. He recovered soon enough and finished the session, but a few weeks later while doing his vaudeville routine in Chicago, he collapsed onstage again. This time doctors were able to determine he had a brain tumor.

Stewart continued recording Uncle Josh records as he could until his death in 1919. He was later cremated and buried in that third wife’s family plot in Indiana.

Stewart was the first great spoken word comedian to have reached the top thanks to recording technology. Although all but completely forgotten today, for two decades he was one of the most popular comedians in America, and without him, well, we might not have any of those great Red Foxx records. We can also blame him for Garrison Keillor.

by Jim Knipfel

[blessed-but-distressed]

#FindEmmaSwanAFriend

Feeling left behind by her more successful, settled friends, Emma Swan moves to Scotland on a whim. Sure, she’s winning at Instagram, but something is still missing from her new life. Fortunately, her friends back home are on it. #FindEmmaSwanAFriend goes viral. Enter Killian Jones, reluctant columnist, who is on the hunt for his newest subject, and may just have found her. CS AU.

also on ff.net

Tagging:  @katie-dub, @wholockgal, @kat2609, @whovianlunatic, @optomisticgirl, @ladyciaramiggles, @the-lady-of-misthaven, @emmaswanchoosesyou, @ilovemesomekillianjones, @cigarettes-and-scotch-whisky, @biancaros3, @ms-babs-gordon, @ab-normality, @andiirivera, @fangirl-till-it-hurts, @onceuponaprincessworld, @chocolatecrackle.

This chapter was a mess for so long, so big thanks to @wholockgal for helping me try to whip her into shape, and @lenfaz for always listening to my writing-related whining.

Emma

The next person who emails me asking for an extension on an assignment they’ve had ALL SEMESTER to do, I’m straight up murdering. ES

I think that’s what they call premeditation, Swan. KJ

There are 33 emails in my inbox right now asking for last minute extensions. 33! Justifiable homicide. ES

33? You’re quite right. Not a jury in the land would convict you. KJ

… This is the part where you chime in with your own work horror story, so I can see I’m being irrational. ES

Is it? As you wish. I just thought seriously about poisoning our illiterate sub-editor with expired milk I found in the darkest recesses of the break room fridge. All because she used a Daily Mail-worthy pun as a headline for one of my articles. And I might’ve done, if the work experience kid hadn’t just used up the last of it for his Ovaltine. KJ

Oh god. Is he okay? ES

For the moment. Looking a bit green around the gills though. I’ve a bet going with the Pictures Editor he won’t make it til lunchtime. KJ

Okay, so not exactly what I was going for, and yet, I feel strangely less like a monster. You, on the other hand, might want to get that kid to a doctor. And/or book yourself in for a refresher for that workplace sensitivity training seminar. ES

According to Liam, there isn’t an opening for six months. Believe me, he checked. KJ

Of course he did. So... 6 hours til happy hour at the Jingles. You in? ES

Oh? Are you buying? KJ

The first round, sure. But only if you promise me it’ll be an early night. I have 203 final assessments to grade. I DO NOT have time to be hungover. ES

Your proposal is acceptable. KJ

Emma saw the poster on the last official teaching day before Reading Week, tacked to the pinboard outside her office. Poorly formatted, and clearly the work of someone with little to no design ability, it nevertheless managed to stop her in her tracks.

End of Academic Year Staff Party

LASER TAG

School of Classics, Archaeology & History VS School of Social & Political Science

Has it ever rankled to be told we produce “Mickey Mouse” degrees? Have you ever been made to feel that your knowledge of Classic Greek literature was “too highbrow” to be relevant in today’s job market? Ever run afoul of Tracy from Social Anthro in the Library Cafe?

Here’s your chance to get your own back! Sign ups below.

Emma could feel something building in her gut. Something unpleasant and inevitable. Something like picturing herself strapped into a cheap plastic breastplate sometime in the near future.

Killian was going to have a field day.

Or, she thought he might, if she could just dig herself out from under the pile of term papers she needed to grade long enough to set up a meet with him.

It figured that all of the empty space in Emma’s schedule would evaporate just as soon as the weather turned. Living under so many layers for so long, Emma had almost forgotten the sun was supposed to have any real warming ability at all. But suddenly, just as the semester was drawing to a close, it re-appeared with a vengeance, and the city was utterly transformed.

Gone were the puffer jackets and tights, the Gore-Tex and the ugly sweaters Emma had long considered to be the unofficial national uniform. Instead the sidewalks became filled with pasty-limbed people displaying their newly liberated flesh with the kind of exhibitionist zeal Emma hadn’t seen since her first Spring Break trip to Florida.

She nearly tripped over a few as they lay sunning themselves out on the Meadows, oblivious to her sweaty, breathless approach. Not to mention the ten or so pubs she had to avoid on her walk home from work, the pavements outside bursting with mismatched outdoor furniture someone had scrounged up in a hurry. All of them packed with sun-worshippers in the most reptilian tradition, and none of them alone.

Who were these people? Emma wondered. Drinking Magners mid-afternoon and stripped down to the barest essentials, always an audience for their bawdy jokes. Where had they all materialized from? Didn’t they have jobs to go to?

In contrast, Emma’s apartment remained completely ignorant of the change in seasons, still cold as a morgue. Her south-facing windows not only had a great view of the brick wall opposite, but they also brought in precisely zero natural light.

It really was a shitty apartment.

And if she had to spend any more time cooped up in it, alone, wrapped in three sweaters while she read circuitous papers in defence of Andrew Jackson, she was going to go crazy.

She had to get out.

She discovered it by accident, really, one day last November when she’d been caught in a surprise hailstorm, and looking for somewhere warm and dry to scarf down the rest of her Greggs donut. Her office-mate had office hours, and the University library stacks were always too crowded with clueless undergrads or amorous couples looking for privacy.

But the City Library? There were whole floors where the only ones around were harmless old biddies working on their genealogies, and their peripheral vision wasn’t the greatest. It was the perfect place to devour a forbidden pastry, or wait out a hailstorm or two. Or run into the very Englishman you’d been meaning to text back.

Emma liked the Reference Library best. It looked kind the kind of thing a fairy tale Beast might gift to a reluctant new house guest to win her over: floor-to-ceiling shelves lining every wall, supported by cast iron balustrades reachable by spiral staircases, an imposing geometric dome that looked like it came right out of Versailles. For the nerds, original card indicies. And for the displaced American history lecturer: plentiful desk space, wi-fi and always somewhere to charge your phone.

Emma had always considered the place to be kind of her little secret. No matter the time of year or weather, it was never too crowded. But there was no mistaking the leather-clad figure sat alone in the second row, feet up on the desk, nose buried in a thin paperback.

He didn’t register her proximity as Emma made her approach, even as she bent down to get a better look at what had him so engrossed.

‘‘Codes, Ciphers and Secret Writing’?” Emma read aloud, perversely gratified to see him lurch forward in his seat, caught unawares. She clicked her tongue as she took the seat next door. “If you’re considering taking up a career as a spy, you might want to make yourself slightly harder to sneak up on. Just a tip.”

He set the book down on the desk, shooting her a somewhat annoyed glance. “Well this is a turn up for the books. It’s been so long between texts I thought maybe you’d done in one of your students, and were lost to the ravages of the criminal justice system forever.”

Emma made a face.

“No? Well, small mercies I suppose. And fancy seeing you here. I didn’t really pick you for a fan of French Renaissance architecture, Swan. Or was there some other marvel you’d come to admire?” He asked, batting his eyelashes in the kind of over-the-top way that would put a silent film ingénue to shame.

Emma rolled her eyes. “Sorry to deflate that massive ego of yours, but I’m not stalking you. I’m just here for the free wi-fi. How was I supposed to know you’d be here… studying spycraft?”

“So just a happy coincidence then?” He held her gaze for a moment, like he didn’t quite believe her. “Well then, as to the book, believe me, Swan, I have zero aspirations towards the Security Services. Callum, however…”

At that, a young woman a few rows down glanced up from her MacBook to give them the evil eye, and Killian ducked his head, slipping a piece of paper from out between the pages of the book, marked with an indecipherable jumble of numbers written in a childish blue scrawl.

“He’s off penguins for the minute,” he continued, his voice now little more than a hushed whisper. “Now it’s codes. Ciphers. Secret communiqués. Which wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps, if the lad hadn’t refused to communicate in any other way...” He scrubbed a hand over his face, his frustration plain.

By the sound of it, things might have been a little tense at the breakfast table lately.  

Emma whistled through her teeth, though she fought to match his soft tones. “Wow. I think when I was eight years old, all I cared about was ponies.”

He glanced up at her then, the unspoken ‘Is that so?’ making her cheeks color. Even when he said nothing at all, Killian still found ways to make her regret every casual remark, every tiny breadcrumb she unwittingly left behind of the childhood she’d tried so hard to forget.

“Let me see that,” Emma said hotly, snatching the coded message from where it lay before him, leaning forward to examine it.

Then without thinking too much about it, she plucked the red pen from her hair that she’d been using to keep her bun in place, and set about making a series of tiny scribbles.

Killian, his book apparently forgotten, leaned over to study her work. “Know a thing or two about ciphers, do we, lass?”

Emma shrugged. “A bit. It came free with my John Jay obsession. But Callum’s what? Eight, right? So it’s probably not anything too difficult…”

The numbers could mean he was using a book as the key. Each number corresponding to a page and paragraph in the book where the desired word lay. Jay had been a fan of that particular method. He’d favored a dictionary as his key, usually. But the numbers Callum had written…

Emma drew up the matrix, smiling to herself as the childish meaning behind the code slowly became clear. She twisted the paper back in Killian’s direction with a victorious flourish.

“Lachie... is... a…” she translated. “Well, you can see for yourself.”

Killian’s eyes widened looking from the paper, back to Emma, his mouth agape. “You’re bloody brilliant, Swan.”

Emma wasn’t sure she’d ever been told that before. By anyone. Certainly not by someone who’d never been on the receiving end of one of her blow jobs. It was a single stray thought that stuck uncomfortably in her thoughts, and had her barreling on in a hurry to fill the awkward pause.

“It’s a six-sided Polybius square,” Emma explained, keeping her eyes trained to the piece of paper. “I’m pretty sure I read somewhere POWs in Vietnam used a variant of it to communicate between their cells. But Callum’s numbers only go up to 6, so I… what?”

He was staring.

“Nothing,” he said with a cough, though she could see the tips of his ears turning pink.

“You okay?”

He shook his head. “Of course. I was just thinking…”

“Thinking what?” Emma asked warily.

Looking kind of like he’d rather the ground rose up and swallowed him instead, Killian sighed and met Emma’s eye, shooting her a look that was so direct she was tempted to scoot her chair back to give them some space. “I was just thinking that Dr Swan is quite a good look on you.”

Emma opened her mouth, to what? Scoff? Say thank you? Luckily, she never had to find out, the silence punctuated by a series of conspicuous buzzing noises.

Emma heard MacBook Girl’s muttered curse. As if she wasn’t just dicking around on Facebook, like everyone else.

“Forgive me,” Killian murmured, clearing his throat and reaching into his pocket and fishing out the device. Whatever he read on that screen, his face immediately pulled into a tight frown and he rose out of his chair all at once.

“Everything okay?” Emma asked, growing concerned.

“Hmmm.”

It was not the most convincing sound Emma had ever heard.

As if somehow sensing Emma’s frustration, he raised his gaze from the phone to look at her, his expression softening a fraction around the eyes. “Apologies, Swan,” he said with a pained smile. “It appears I’m needed elsewhere.”

He hovered a moment, his weight shifting restlessly from foot to foot. “I need to head back to the office first. Would you like to walk with me? Or is the lure of free wi-fi too good an inducement to pass up?”

Emma glanced down at her watch, which showed the time to be little past noon. She’d been planning on enjoying the silence of solitude of the library a little more. Make a dent in her grading somewhere with decent heating and what passed for natural light.

But given the look on his face right now, and the way he was clenching his jaw, the fact that he’d even asked meant he probably really, really needed the distraction. And Emma might be pretty selfish on her best days, but she wasn’t cruel. And it just so happened, she had a particular distraction in mind.

“Sure,” she said, letting some of her weight fall onto his proffered prosthetic, as she rose from her chair.

“Sure, I’ve got time.”

Yeah, he was a fan of the laser tag idea.

His mood wasn’t buoyant exactly, as they wended their way along Castle Terrace, dodging Chinese tour groups who were arriving by the busload, selfie sticks at the ready. But the idea of Emma making a humiliating spectacle of herself certainly seemed to hold some kind of appeal for him.

He was no longer actively brooding.

“I can just picture it now; Emma Swan: Jungle Warrior.”

Emma snorted. Then she opened her mouth to refute this, and then closed it again, considering her track record.

Killian considered her shrewdly. “Something you’d like to share with the class?”

“I don’t know…I don’t know if you know this about me, but I’m kind of competitive. The last time I did something like this, it got kind of… ugly.”

“Define ugly.”

“We went paintballing for David’s birthday one year and August ended up in the ER with a dislocated knee.”

Killian winced.

“He says he can still feel it when it rains. Of course, he’s a novelist, so he’s kind of known for being needlessly dramatic so...”

Encouraged by the prospect of mayhem, the usual mischievous sparkle was returning to Killian’s eyes. “I think this competitive side is something I’ve got to see for myself.”

“Too bad you’re not invited, then, huh?”

“I could be…?” Oh no. No way. Was he really pulling puppy dog eyes right now?

“No way. Not happening. You can put those eyes away. It’s a work event. The administration are already on my case about this whole thing enough as it is.”

“And if I talk them ‘round?”

“You’re not going to get the administration to change their minds about me with a winsome smile and pretty boy charm.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

Emma just rolled her eyes, and nudged him into the path of an oncoming tour group.

When I got back to the library I realized you left your book, btw. I returned it. Figured you didn’t need it anymore? ES

Indeed I don’t. In cracking his code, I believe you’ve exhausted Callum’s sudden passion for cryptography. At least, for now. Elsa would like to express her eternal gratitude. KJ

Wow. Look at me, extinguishing a young boy’s thirst for learning. Clearly I’ve got this whole teacher thing on lockdown. ES

Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. I saw him googling nebulas on the iPad earlier. I dare say another obsession is in the offing. One that might drive his mother a little less insane. KJ

Well, that’s something. ES

Okay, so clearly the administration was into winsome smiles and pretty boy charm, because the next thing Emma knew, she was seated on a university-chartered bus headed out into the hinterland, her columnist stretched out of the seat beside her.

Because that was a super normal thing to bring along to a work event.

Emma found it easiest to ignore the curious looks of her bus-mates by picturing how she was going to wipe the floor with each and every one of them when they got to where they were going.

For the most part, the reluctant recruits they’d manage to scrape together from the School of Social & Political Science did not inspire awe. Emma was pretty sure she could take them. Between Tracy from Social Anthro with her scoliosis, and Glen from British Politics with his spare tire, they seemed a pretty ragtag bunch, not suited to roughing it in the great outdoors.

There was only one among them who looked like a contender, the bearded guy in the army surplus jacket dozing at the back of the bus.

His possible narcolepsy aside, he at least seemed to be in decent shape, if the cut of jaw was any indication. As if he could feel her gaze on him, his eyes blinked open, and Emma turned back to Killian, who’d suddenly trailed off mid-sentence.

“And you didn’t hear anything I just said, did you?”

Emma cringed inwardly. “Sorry. I was just sizing up the competition.”

“Oh?” He enquired, his tone lightening. “And how do they measure up, in your estimation?”

Emma shrugged. “I think it’s in the bag. Our combined youth-”

“Your fighting spirit-” Killian interrupted.

“And the fact the history department won against the Divinity School last year...  ,” Emma continued, ignoring him.

“What about Rambo over there?” Killian asked, raising his chin to indicate the same guy Emma had been caught checking out before. “He looks like he might present a challenge.”

“Yeah, well,” Emma said, refusing to follow his gaze. “We’ll see.”

If Emma thought she might be able to somehow avoid this handsome stranger, maybe she should have remembered that she was cursed. Because when they nominated team captains, somehow it was him that Emma found herself facing off against.

The two of them stood awkwardly, forced to wait while some teenaged employee scrounged around in the pockets of his cargo pants for a coin to flip to determine territory.

And he was handsome, there was no getting around it. Nice hair, just on the manageable side of curly. Admittedly impressive biceps peeking out from underneath an ill-fitting plastic breastplate. Not to mention the warm, friendly smile as he held out a hand.

“Best of luck,” he said.

Oh, and an accent. A very nice accent.   

“And to you,” Emma said graciously, accepting the handshake. She might have been naturally competitive, but there was no need to be rude.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you on campus before,” he mentioned casually, even as his hand still clasped over hers. “I’m Graham Humbert, International Relations.”

The way he said it, with his tongue peeking out to wet his lower lip, she wondered if he was flirting with her. She wondered if she wanted him to be.

“Emma Swan,” she replied, letting her hand fall back down to her side, palm tingling. “American History.”

Killian

Killian Jones was no stranger to using his masculine wiles to his advantage. Though he’d been something of an awkward youth, his university years had been their own sort of education, quite aside from his unfinished philosophy degree.

Now, as a mediocre journalist with few moral scruples, he employed charm and flattery as tools of the trade. What better way to put an interview subject at ease? Or finesse that long-guarded secret from someone’s lips?

True, Saorsa was hardly The Guardian. He wasn’t uncovering government corruption at it’s highest levels or netting himself any Pulitzers. Though he did manage to stir up a hornet’s nest in Parliament that one time, after he got a MSP to admit to an extra-marital affair. Necessary to the public interest it was not, but it never did the circulation numbers any harm.

It was these skills he thought might help secure him a spot on the team bus to Lugton Bogs, the aptly named quagmire that was home to Edinburgh’s premier, and only, outdoor laser tag centre. Or at the very least, might improve Emma’s standing with the university after a rocky start.

Killian’s first port of call? The Press and Public Relations department, tucked away in cobbled alley near Sandy Bell’s. And from the rising stink of it, mostly treated as an open latrine by some of the male patrons of said watering hole after one too many libations at the weekend.

The inside was decidedly more pleasant, sheltered from the stench by double glazed windows and a heavy steel door. The office itself was attractive enough, a hive of industry playing to the soundtrack of ringing telephones. He stopped to ask the way to the right office, and was directed up to the first floor, where cubicles gave way to actual offices.

It was a promising start, he thought. That is, until he seated himself in a rather uncomfortable chair outside his target office, and had gotten a good look at the nameplate velcroed to the door.

That Killian’s quarry turned out to be a male was regrettable, and a waste of Killian’s talents.  That Killian’s quarry turned out to be none other than Robert Gold, native Glaswegian and former husband of one Belle French, Killian thought perhaps it wasn’t too late to do the honourable thing and fall on his sword.

He’d never been stupid enough to name Belle directly, but realistically, how many Australian librarians in Edinburgh could there be? And here was the very man Killian had publicly outed just a few short months ago, as a man who’d chosen his pill addiction over his marriage.

This was the man he had sought?

Killian was already halfway to his feet, ready to skive off their meeting with great urgency, when the door opened and out stepped a slight, silver-haired man, leaning heavily on a cane.

Tink hadn’t been lying when she’d said he’d been older.

“Killian Jones, is it?” he asked, looking bored.

Hello, rock. Hello, hard place. Killian’s first temptation was still to flee, but seeing as he was half-standing in plain sight, it seemed that ship had long sailed.

Instead he straightened, and held out a hand, trying to keep his voice quiver-free. “Aye, Killian Jones. I believe you’re the man to see about getting oneself included on an employee outing?”

For all his vices, Robert Gold did have one thing to his credit; he did not seem to be a Saorsa subscriber. Indeed, Killian’s name did not seem to bring about any flash of recognition. Nor, to Killian’s immense relief, a sudden zeal to sue for libel.

Though now Killian knew what to look for, he very much doubted the man would have much legal grounds. From the sweat soaking through his dress shirt, to the sallow complexion, to the pupils round as saucers, there was no way Robert Gold wasn’t in the throes of some chemical cocktail. The single life clearly wasn’t working for him.

He did, however, seem for the moment to be all-business.

“Laser tag?” he enquired.

Not sure if he was asking for an explanation, or merely a confirmation, Killian hesitated. “Something of an annual tradition from what I understand. Pitting department against department, all in the name of friendly competition.”

Gold nodded, absently.

“And this…” He peered down to examine the form in front of him. “... Emma Swan. You’re writing a column about her personal life?”

“It’s more an exploration on the nature of adult friendships. How difficult it is to make meaningful connections when you find yourself separated from your familiar networks. Emma is merely a vehicle I’m using to…” Killian fumbled for a suitable word. “...illustrate the point.”

“Hmmm.”

With any luck, that “Hmmm” meant that Gold found the idea tedious, and never wanted to hear about it again. Still, Killian wondered how long it would take him to convince their IT guy to “accidentally” corrupt the link to February’s column online.

“And you feel it would be helpful to you if you ‘tagged along’ on this outing?”

Truthfully, now he’d gotten Ruby to confirm Emma’s ER story, he mostly just wanted to watch her in action. But something told him Gold wouldn’t be particularly sympathetic to his plight.

“I think it would lend my words a certain credibility, if I was actually present for the events, certainly.”

Gold looked thoughtful, as if he was actually entertaining the idea. Or perhaps he was just meaning to add his next date with his dealer to his personal calendar. At any rate, he didn’t make Killian wait too long.

“There’s a number of forms to fill out,” the Glaswegian declared airily, pulling a stack of papers from a filing cabinet. “And some insurance concerns. I imagine your employer can email through proof of that?”

Could they? Killian certainly hoped so.

“Aye, of course.”

“Of course, we don’t ask for copy approval ahead of time, we’re not totalitarian savages. But you should be aware that we are always looking for ways to promote the university as a diverse, innovative and enjoyable workplace. Sometimes this means entering partnerships with members of the fourth estate, and sometimes that means breaking off such arrangements, if we feel our aims are not in concert. If you understand my meaning?”

Don’t burn any bridges. Duly noted.

At Killian’s nod of acquiescence, Gold clapped his hands together. “Well then, dearie, it looks like we have ourselves a deal. Blue pen, or black?”

And you thought it couldn’t be done. KJ

You didn’t. ES

I did. KJ

Please tell me you’re joking? ES

Alas, the cramp I’m nursing after signing near a dozen documents in triplicate says otherwise. I am UoE approved, and ready to watch Emma Swan go full berserker. KJ

I hate you. ES

I know. KJ

“Players must keep two hands on the phaser at all time to activate it. This is a safety feature which prevents the phaser being held at an arm’s length,” Killian read the tiny warning sticker on the side of his gun aloud.

Well, wasn’t that just fantastic.

Killian looked around for some teenaged, zero-hour contract flunky he could flag down, but after the initial hubbub of the coin toss, they’d all but vanished. The stand of trees stood all but empty now, except for the handful of middle-aged academics in green vests, wheezing as they made their way over the rise.

Sod it.

His gun might be fucking useless, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t do what he came here to do: Watch Emma Swan kick arse and take names.

She really was in fine form. She might have been surprised by her appointment to team captain, but Killian wasn’t. She was the only one among them who actually looked like they knew what they were doing, and objectively speaking, she looked good doing it.

And as the reluctantly appointed leader, she was the one leading the charge to the enemy compound, organising her little band using military tactics she’d probably lifted straight from Che Guevara. This was exactly why people shouldn’t cross history professors.

Expending the last of his lung capacity, Killian caught up with Emma’s splinter group, just in time to hear the electronic sound effect that signalled a direct hit to the man to his left.

“Six o’ clock,” Killian bellowed, diving for the cover of the nearest tree stump. Emma was already there, pinned down by two more red-vests advancing from the other side.

“Alright, Swan?” he asked, wiping at his forehead with the sleeve of his useless arm.

To his delight, she actually seemed to be enjoying this, her face aflush with activity, her grin wide. She turned his way, tucking a stray tuft of hair behind her ear. “Give us the the tools, and we will finish the job.”

Churchill. She was quoting fucking Churchill.

But as she heard her compatriots fall to enemy fire, he could see the enthusiasm in her eyes visibly dim with each electronic squeal. If they stayed here too long, Rambo and the lasses from Gender Studies were going to pick them off, one by one.

Someone had to do something, and quickly.

And that someone might as well be the eejit with the gun that didn’t bloody work.

Nudging Emma’s shoulder, he pointed to a pile of boulders a little way off. “You make for those, and I’ll cover you.”

Emma looked from the pile, back to Killian. “Are you crazy? That’s like twenty yards. There’s no way we’ll both make it.”

“Only one way to know for sure,” Killian said, rising from his hiding place, and giving her no choice but to follow his lead.

“Aargh,” she cried, scrambling to her feet, rifle at the ready. “You know I hate you, right?”

“Aye, Swan,” he said, swinging to face his aggressors head-on. “I know.”

It wasn’t a drawn-out death.

To Killian’s satisfaction, a few of them had turned and fled when they saw him stand up. But Rambo, the bearded leader of the opposition seemed clue-ier than his friends. He saw the diversion for what it was. And as Emma darted out from behind the stump, he set his sights accordingly. Might have gotten her too, if Killian hadn’t stepped into the line of fire.

“You do know the purpose of the game is not to get hit, right?” Rambo called after him.

But instead of replying, Killian merely slung his rifle up onto his shoulder and headed back to the holding area, humming a song under his breath.

In the end, Emma decimated them, as he knew she would. All but Rambo, that cocksure son of a bitch. He had military training, of that Killian was certain. Or at least a stint in the cadets. He was a little too at ease, in Killian’s view.

Still, Emma managed to hold her own, waiting the bastard out until the clock ran down.

A draw.

He thought he might shout Emma a drink for this. Something tall and refreshing. But as she emerged from the stand of trees, still aglow with near-victory, he saw she wasn’t alone. Rambo strode along beside her, the two of them getting on suspiciously well for people who’d just been trying to “kill” one another.

Killian shrank back, letting himself fall back into a crowd of archaeology professors, comparing aches and pains. They certainly weren’t of the Indiana Jones mould.

He wouldn’t say he watched them. He merely observed them, like any other dispassionate member of the fourth estate. And how could he not notice his subject’s pleasure at this man’s company? The way her gaze dropped downward as they shook hands, a rare show of shyness.

Emma liked him. Rambo. Whatever his name was. Even a blind man could see it.

As far as the project was concerned, this was good news. Emma Swan, single and ready to mingle? Hell, it was a boon. Not to say one’s social life never suffered from embarking on a new relationship, but it was a damned sight better than Emma staying home every night with her marking and her Netflix.

So why did the sight of Emma typing her number into the man’s phone suddenly make Killian feel queasy? This was a good thing.

He should be happy for her.

Getting home took a little longer than anticipated. Not least because he stopped by the Jingles on the way and emptied out their stores of Captain Morgan.

“Maybe you should call it a night, eh?” the bar man suggested, just around the time Killian’s vision started going blurry.

Recalling Liam’s last lecture about “unnecessary expenses” he walked the rest of the way home, taking a somewhat circuitous route through a few back gardens.

He struggled with the lock, frustrated to find his keys kept slipping from his hand. He almost had it when the door suddenly fell in, and Killian with it.

“What the-”

Who else but Liam stood over him, arms crossed in that same look of quiet disappointment he’d been wearing for years.

“Good night was it?” his brother asked coolly, reaching forward to help him up.

“Geroff me, you judgy git,” Killian scowled, rising to his feet perfectly well on his own, with nary a wobble. “Would ‘ave been fine, you hadn’t opened the door like that.”

Liam stepped away, hands held up in surrender. “If you insist.” And then after a moment, “Why do you look like you’ve been at the Somme?”  

Killian looked down at himself, to the best approximation of combat clothes his wardrobe had to offer, now caked in mud to the knee, and streaked with dirt elsewhere.

“Laser tag,” Killian replied. “S’for work.”

“Hmm,” Liam hummed. “Let me guess, you weren’t on the winning side?”

If you wanted to get technical about it, it had been a draw. But deep down, Killian couldn’t kid himself on that front. 

Whichever side he’d been on had definitely been the losing one.

And how were drinks with Rambo? KJ

Graham. His name is Graham. ES

So it is. Does that sharp rebuke mean that in addition to guerrilla warfare, the man also excels at scintillating conversation over cocktails? KJ

Has anyone ever told you you’re a shameless gossip? ES

Once or twice. Though I much prefer the term “indomitable busybody.” That’s my favourite. KJ

Gee, I wonder why. And for your information, it wasn’t terrible. ES

Coming from you, Swan, that’s almost a ringing endorsement. KJ

23  25-32-33-45  51-33-43  42-33-33-25    42-22-11-42  12-26-11-41-42   16-33-36  31-15. ES

23’31  41-43-36-15  23 22-11-44-15  32-33  23-14-15-11  45-22-11-42  5-33-43  31-15-11-32. KJ

Whatever you say, buddy. Good night, Killian. ES

Good night, Emma. KJ

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Hey ladies! Hope you had a great Easter holiday. Was wondering if you know of any Sterek dancing fics. Either professional or stripper or just out dancing in a club. I read a great one the other day of them meeting in college while dancing in bar and got hooked. Thanks :)

 ….I may have gotten a little carried away with this.  lol  -Emmy

We Held Fast by GotTheSilver 

(1,439 I Explicit I Complete)  *boyfriends fluff

Because apparently Derek Hale can slow dance.

On the Right Track by HalfFizzbin

(1,577 I Teen I Complete)   *party dancing

Stiles is stuck on a broken-down train instead of dancing with Lydia at a swanky New Year’s Eve party, which sucks. OR DOES IT?

(Basic premise blatantly ripped off from Boy Meets World 3x10, “Train of Fools.”)

The Panty Thief by bleep0bleep 

(2,725 I Explicit I Complete)  *stripper!stiles and stripper!derek

Stiles undulates, slowly unzipping the leather crop top, teasing the crowd with a peek at his nipples, and finally he shrugs out of it, glancing coquettishly over his shoulder.He falters and misses a step.What? Why is Derek sitting in the audience? In the front row, too?Stiles recovers quickly, getting right back into the dance. Fine. Derek wants to be a customer? Stiles can play.

Grind on Me by pyrodaggers

(2,960 I Teen I Complete)  *party dancing

Lydia forces Stiles to go to a black light party. She says it will loosen him up.Stiles bumps into Derek and well…shit happens.

Turn Me On by rispacooper 

(3,021 I Explicit I Complete)   *bar dancing

The air feels like it’s carrying the music with it, like a girl’s sweet voice is touching him along with the carefully encroaching press of someone’s fingertips at his back.

Plus One by eeyore9990 

(3,073 I Teen I Complete)   *wedding dancing

When Derek receives an invitation to what should have been his ten year class reunion, he panics a little.  He’s barely got his life together and the invitation specifies a plus one.  Thankfully, Stiles is there to help him out.

The Pickup Line I Deserve by hannah_baker 

(4,227 I Explicit I Complete)  *bar dancing

Derek Hale has a type: tall, lanky, pale, brunette, passive. Stiles Stilinski is nearly all of those things - but not quite.

Or, The Time Derek Hale’s One Night Stand Was More Than He Bargained For.

You Can Leave Your Hat On by forpony 

(4,864 I Explicit I Complete)  *stripper!Stiles

“You have got to be kidding me,” Derek mutters, closing his eyes and pinching his nose in frustration. “Laura!” He yells.

“Oh, is the stripper here!?” Laura thumps over from the party area as she’s dubbed it, and skids to a stop next to Derek, throwing an arm around his shoulders. “Heeeey, Stilinski. Looking good, kid.”

“Uh,” Stiles, the Sheriff’s son, blushes. “Laura, you said this was for a friend of yours.”

To Get Used By You by the_rat_wins 

(4,956 I Explicit I Complete)  *stripper!Stiles

“Laura would kill you if she knew you were hiring strippers,” Derek said, looking at the website Peter had pulled up.

Thinking About You by OkyDokyPoky 

(6,025 I Teen I Complete)  *gay bar dancing

Stiles and Danny go out to The Jungle together. It’s not long after they got inside that Stiles notices a handsome guy in the corner staring (more like glaring) at him. (Inspired by the song Thinking About You - Calvin Harris. I recommend listening to the song before/while/after reading!)

The Happy Ending (Costs Double) by kaihire 

(6,146 I Mature I Complete)  *stripper!Derek

It’s Stiles’ birthday, and his friends decide to surprise him with a visit to a strip club. Unfortunately, Stiles doesn’t realize that the stripper they’ve chosen is less of the buxom, curvy sort and more of the glaring, broody variety.

Red Wolf by LadyLazarus 

(7,728 I Mature I Complete)  *pole dancer!Stiles

Loup Rouge is the best act at Beacon Hills’ seediest strip club, and who should be there for his cousin’s bachelor party? Only Derek Hale himself of course.

Things happen man, and springtime is the best.

Laying Groundwork by LunaCanisLupus_22 

(10,930 I Explicit I Complete)  *club dancing

His expression isn’t much to go by but the entire clubs howling gets louder at his appearance and Stiles literally pops a boner watching the guy’s big hands wrestle with the microphone stand.

Or the one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-

Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.

Touch Me, Set Fire To My Mind by orphan_account 

(11,163 I Explicit I Complete)  *stripper!Stiles, nerd!derek

When Erica drags Derek to a strip club, he never expects to fall in love with one of the strippers, so of course that’s exactly what happens.

Feel The Magic Between You and I by stilinskisparkles 

(11,432 I Mature I Complete)  *dirty dancing fusion

“See?” Derek holds his arms out, “Everything’s working out great for you, and I still have no dance partner,” he turns to Erica, “Face it, no one is as good as you.”

“We still have one more,” she sing songs.

Derek peers over to the list, flinches when he sees Stiles’ name, “No.”

“You haven’t even seen me dance, and you’re already dismissing me?” Stiles sails into the room, tossing his bag in the corner as he does so and doing a dramatic spin to face them. “I got moves.”

The Junk Drawer by Stereksale7 

(12,363 I Explicit I Complete)   *college au, stripper!derek

“He texted me and said he only had the cop costume on hand and that the rest were back at the club which doesn’t open until 8:30 tonight. I told him that was fine.” Erica whispers.

“What?! Oh god he’s going to dressed as a cop? There’s no way that’ll be hot for Stiles his dad’s the freaking Sheriff and he’s in the academy!” Scott franctically whispers back.

“I know that Scott but what was I going to do?! I don’t want to wait that long, Stiles’ll probably be drunk off his ass by 8:30! Just believe me okay? It won’t matter what he’s wearing he’s 100% Stiles’s type and he won’t be wearing the outfit very long anyways.” Erica whispered with a smirk.

***Or in which the stripper Stiles’s friends hire for his birthday has very familiar looking eyes.

This You and Me Thing by Cousin Shelley (CousinShelley) 

(14,083 I Explicit I Complete)   *club dancing

Stiles is perceptive, Scott is a mother hen, Erica dances, Boyd is Zen, Danny is smitten, Matt is nervous, Jungle staff really need to learn to spot fake IDs, and Derek absolutely does not dance.~~~

Stiles’ mouth fell open. What was all this bossing him around and treating him like a kid? “Yeah? Well … okay, I’ll go. On one condition–dance with me first.”

“Hell. No.” Derek crossed his arms. He stood in the middle of a pulsing throng of hot men on a dance floor and crossed his god damn arms. 

Wolf Boy by SarkaS 

(20,812 I Explicit I Complete)   *stripper!stiles

He told everyone that he works for a big IT company. When they asked about it and he pulled out all those IT terms and strange words, they never asked again. If he said “work is good”, they believed him, except for Lydia. She would have definitely known what he’s saying, but she didn’t really care. So, win for him. Again.

But now he’s staring at his phone with desperation written on his face and doesn’t know what to do.

I’m going to NYC for my new internship. Spare me a room. L.

He is so fucked.

Birds of a Feather by calrissian18, maichan808 (maichan)    

(26,144 I Explicit I Complete)  *ballet dancer!Stiles

Laura is a crusader without a cause, Stiles dances like the whole world’s betrayed him and Derek’s having trouble getting both feet outside his door.

Hale Yes by Stiles_Hale_38 

(34,325 I Explicit I WIP)  *stripper!stiles, stripper!derek

Stiles has been needing a job, and asks his friend Cora for help. She tells him her brother owns a strip joint, and that she’s sure she can get him a job.

Stiles has no experience, but needs a job desperately, and knows strippers can make pretty good money, so, Cora tells him to do a little try-out for her, and to both of their shock, he does great. She calls up Derek, who gives him the job, though reluctantly, as he has no experience.

Stiles soon meets Derek, “The Alpha,” as they call him. Derek isn’t rude, but he isn’t exactly enthusiastic, but, he’s the best stripper there, and the owner of the club, so he ends up helping Stiles out with everything.

With Derek’s help and hard work, Stiles quickly becomes the most popular stripper there, apart from Derek.

It’s the biggest night of the year for Stiles, a partner strip . . With Derek. They have a planned routine and it’s hot, but while on stage, they go a little off track. The crowd doesn’t seem to mind, and neither do they.

[crusty-the-snowman]

THE AU

How to train your dragon au Humans: Michael Jake Chloe Jenna Christine Dragons Rich - flame whipper Jeremy: night fury Mr.Heere: also nightfury fight me The squip: blue death (haha like red death) Brooke: Nadder? Changewing? Take this while I'm playing my How To Train Your Dragon Game SO Michael works as a blacksmith And so do his moms, Its kind of a family thing for them Michael, Jake, Jenna, Chloe and Christine are in training to learn how to slay dragons But theyre bad at working as a group, and on their own Christine and Jake tend to be spacey and were awful at keeping an eye on the dragons And Michael really just knows how to make weapons, not so much use them The people who stood the best chance were Jenna who honestly jyst likes studying dragons so she knows a lot about them And Chloe whos very good with weapons But those two couldnt work together very well. Mr.Reyes is dissapointed in his latest students. Michaels moms assured him its okay and if he can still be a blacksmith Its somewhat assuring, but not quite for Michael personally Jake would say his parents were dissapointed in him but they were taken by dragons, It wouldve made him a chief, but because hes so young Chloe parents were put in charge until Jakes old enough During a dragon raid one night Michael tried to shoot a Night Fury only to find himself horrifically missing and dissapointed in himself During said raid a couple dragons even go out of their cages A couple days later Michael went to gather wood only to find Night Fury scales Upon following them he found a A Night Fury with its legs wrapped up in a net in an odd way like it got itself tangled Michael with nothing else he can do with it, started to try and check out this strange dragon and document it the best he could. Only upon trying to look at its legs, unwrapped it just enough for the dragon to get away and found it didnt try to kill him. Because it was getting late Michael had to go home. The next day he went to retrieve the rope (he realized it could still be used) and noticed there were tracks assumedly from the Night Fury, but they looked bigger than he remembered Long story short Michael followed the tracks and finds the Night Fury. It doesnt appear injured but it appears VERY clumsy and occupied with a pond its trying to catch fish in. But Michael with a lack of planning for this to happen decides to start writing in a notebook the things he notices about the Night Fury from a distance. When he gets home he beings the rope back and lets his moms know he found it, (which theyre very proud of him for doing) So Michael starts leaving to study this Night Fury more, thinking he could be like the botanists that wrote the book of dragons and be really good at this. His moms are mainly happy hes found taking walks to be a sort of nice hobby He also notes Jake leaving late at night often as Michael comes back around the same time and maybe because hes really gay for Jake (this is relevant) After one very long day thats turning into night Michael realises something that he can't find an explanation for while watching this night fury hes dubbed Jeremy 1. Jeremy can't seem to hunt for himself but he seems well fed 2. Jeremy definitely doesnt match the size of the tracks he followed to him that seem to still match the shape of his foot Because he's stayed out so late though Michael gets his answer Theres the sound of a thud outside of the tunnel and in a panic he scrambles all the way inside the cave just barely out of the way to see another larger Night Fury to come in that definitely better matches the tracks he follwed The size difference suggests and same species suggests maybe this Jeremys dad. Which seems confirmed when he finds this is the the one who seems to be feeding Jeremy And it makes a lot more sense now Michael shot the net and missed hitting the Night Fury he was aiming for, but Jeremy was the one who ended up tangled up in it. For now Michael intends to leave but trying to go towards the tunnel doesnt go well when he drops his notebook Because of this in a matter of minutes hes stuck in place with a large Night Furry towering over him and huffing Michaels pretty sure this is it for him and closes his eyes regretting his life choices Until this Night Fury sneezed and proceeded to puke a fish on him like it puked fish up for Jeremy. And its clear he was just sniffing Michael and seemed to see him as a not a threat (unbeknownst to Michael its partially because Michaels been collecting NightFury scales that Jeremys been shedding and led to him smelling like him) Its also noteable Jeremy didn't take notice of Michael until his dad moved towards him. And as jeremys dad was getting Jeremys attention instead of making any noise he would manage to touch jeremy first to get his attention And until this point jeremy never took notice of Michael before when he he'd dropped things so appeared Jeremy had hearing problems which possibly had affected Jeremys abilty to hunt With this Michael came home very late and ended up having to tell his moms the truth who were very worried about him Surprisingly they werent mad considering they let Michael talk and explain how Jeremy and his dad didnt attack him and Jeremys dad even tried to feed him. Michaels moms thought this was interesting because nobody known anything about Night Furys before and Michael has the scales to prove it. They promise not to tell because Michael and his moms also know Chloes parents wouldnt be as understanding and if they heard Michael suddenly befriended dragons For now Michael keeps going alone to visit Jeremy who hes now found is quite friendly and even stops caring when Michael doesnt vary the scales with that makes him smell like a Night Fury If anything Jeremy gets excited the moment he can smell Michael and even starts saving food for when Michael shows up. (Though Michael just pretends to eat it and later bring it back to feed Jeremys dad) Over time it seems like Michaels been improving at the academy for (understanding) and "defeating" dragons, though Jake just seems better at dodging and being ignored by them Over time Michael even gets the idea to see if Jeremy can fly since hes yet to see it and one night hangs out to wait for Jeremys dad to also show up It's becomes apparent by comparison Jeremy has a weirdly formed tail wing which with a lack of hearing might mean Jeremy has some birth defects  [que some of Michael getting help from his moms to make a prosthetic similar to the movie] Michael then waits till Jeremys dad returns in hopes to fly with him and that way he can also count on him to teach Jeremy to fly assuming Jeremy hasnt been able to prior The first attempt is rough as Jeremy finds Michael cannot hold on if theyre flying upside down, but Mr.Heere is big enough he manages to grab Michael by the back of his shirt and carry Jeremy to the ground very carefully The next couple attemps was Michael and Jeremy learning to work together to fly and jeremy being taught to fly by jers dad who just so happy his son and the weird small fleshy dragon he's befriended are able to fly with him together Also in this time (maybe also because flying was way fun and Michael felt like he could do anything if he could help Jeremy fly) Michael finds the courage to ask out Jake and happen to run into him when Jakes returning home in the dead of night. Jake seems very frantic in getting inside which makes Michael very worried until he hears a squawk but not a bird type squawk And Jake panics and asks Michael to promise he wont tell anyone about what hes doing if Jake let's him inside Michaels says yes and next thing he knows Jake has pulled him into a kiss for a moment before pulling him inside One of the dragons that had escaped to academy during a raid was a red and light blue Flamewhipper, a dragon resembling a gecko and used to constantly drop its tail and paralyze people making fighting it hard Well, Michael thought it escaped like everyone else until suddenly said dragon has crawled down from the ceiling to try and eat fish and a plant called ceriman Jake seems to have in his backpack. Jake named this dragon Rich and admits during the raid he'd taken the time to free Rich feeling like the dragons weren't bad and they were essentially tormenting the dragons in there. However Rich ended up following Jake to his house. Possibly because Jakes house is warm compared to outside and Rich is very fond of crawling in and laying on Jakes jacket So every night since, Jakes been feeding Rich who has yet to leave on his own and seems to be particularly fond of Jake himself to the point Jake has been sharing a bed with him Which now explains why dragons lately have been ignoring Jake as he shells like another dragon Michael doesnt give specifics but says he has a similar situation occuring that his moms know about and decides to stay over with how late it is Rich steals part of Jakes bed Michael also offers for his moms to help Jake feed Rich but Jake declines saying hes worried Rich might not be fond of many people Later that night Jake also apologizes for kissing Michael saying he's been crushing on him for awhile and only did it because he was greatful Michael wasn't going to tell anyone Jakes explanation for his actions is a big gay mood for Michael Michael also asks if he can kiss Jake again Jake says yes and they kiss for a moment until Rich squawks at them because Jake stopped petting him The next day Jake is introduced to Jeremy who thinks Jake is another small fleshy dragon and tries to play with him also sniffs him heavily because he smells Rich and "where is other dragon??!! I can smell him but hes not on this fleshy dragon?!??" Michael explains Jeremy cant hear and has dad that typically feeds him, he also cant fly which is what Michael helps him do with his prosthetic sort of tail Jeremy pukes fish on Jake and Michael tells him he typically feeds it to Jeremys dad later at night Michael also tells Jake hes welcome to come by to visit jeremy and his dad as long as Michael's there too incase Jeremys dad acts differemt towards Jake smelling like a different dragon Jake also asks if Michael and his moms could help make him a saddel like Jeremy has but for Rich Part 1 bc it wont let me post more on this

[cyberstabbing]

Supernatural/Magic/Fantasy

Septicemia - Gerard keeps ruining things, but he never means it. Frank keeps getting hurt, but he never feels it. 44k

GO READ THIS GO READ THIS DO IT DO IT DO IIIIIIT !!!! hoooly fuck.

It’s been a while since my last re-read, but I’ll try to summarize part of it. Frank is in a really bad place when the fic starts out. He lives in a dump, his life is crap and he feels like shit. He also has regenerative healing. Doesn’t matter if he falls out from a second-story window, or shoots himself in the mouth. He’ll be alive and kicking after it, wether he wants to or not. His tattoos are constantly fading away, since his body senses it as “harm”. Enter Gerard, a man fascinated by Frank’s powers (and one who might have some of his own...). Aaaanywho. A fun and great and awesome fic that deserves ALL the kudos and comments!

Veins Are Red, Veins Are Blue - There’s a little button up at the top of the page, marked “gallery”, and Gerard clicks on it. It presents him with a handful of different names, presumably the artists in residence, and he skims down the list until he spots it: Frank Iero (horror/gore, traditional American designs). Iero, Gerard thinks, rolling the name around his head like a rosary bead in his palm. Of course the fucker is Italian, because the world is cruel and Gerard’s life is hard. With a deep, tortured sigh, he clicks on Frank’s name.

In which Frank is a tattoo artist and Gerard is a fearsome and terrifying undead creature of the night. Sort of. 8k

Under the Hide of Me - Prohibition in New Jersey means mob bosses and bootleggers running hooch up and down the shore and into the city. Gerard Way, his brother, and their friend Ray are running an operation for the Capo Maranzano. Rival factions are trying to take over the business, and Frank Iero, from a prominent Mob family, is sent to them as their new driver. But the Ways and Ray are hiding two secrets: their own still on a farm in the Pine Barrens, and something darker yet. They’re werewolves. 18k

A Kiss on Bloody Lips - Frank stumbles on a serial killer that’s been terrorizing his city for weeks, and gets more than he bargained for when his obsession comes to a climax. 12k

Gerard Way’s (Vampire) Detective Agency - Pete, in Decaydance Mansion, with a yarrow stake. Frank and Gerard, in the greenhouse, with a plant of questionable origin. Bob, everywhere you look, with a gang of assassins for justice. Vampires, valets, pamphlets, haunted furniture, dub-thrall, disembodied voices, zombie couriers, and sinister ritual. 43k

Redeemer - Gerard is a complete asshole to pretty much everyone but himself. He’s rich and privileged and doesn’t care if he steps on other people’s dreams. After a night with some guy he met at one of his clubs, in which Gerard ends up under a young punk rocker’s care, he may be changing his act. 20k

Black Market Blood - Frank’s so fucking freaky he’s potentially wigging out a fucking vampire. 16k

I Was Your Silver Lining - “So what do you do?” “I wait.” “You wait? Like, what, tables?” “I wait for you.” Werewolves, Gypsy magic, soul mates, reincarnation and Gerard being a creeper. 52k

An Emergency Of The Heart - Gerard’s fat fucking birds have fat fucking asses.13k

Cute lil’ cinderella au, Frank’s in a band and Gerard works for CN. It’s So. Sweet. I couldn’t stop smiling in class.

Run - Being a secret teenage werewolf is hard. Frank should know. He is one. 63k

Nearly Witches - Frank’s new in town, and his new best friends think it’d be awesome to check out the old Way Cottage on Halloween. Frank thinks it’ll be the best birthday ever. What he gets is two eighteenth century witches and a lot of strange situations. 18k

fanart!

Unholyverse - “He thinks I have stigmata,” Frank said, because what the fucking hell, it couldn’t get any worse. He might as well just lay it out. “Oh, well,” said Brian into his hands. “Of course.” 186k

Trees Have Roots And I Have You - "There’s a legend saying that if you’re at Saint Etienne du Mont church at midnight, a car or a vehicle or something comes for you and takes you to the Paris you want to visit the most.”And that’s how Gerard Way ends up in the twenties. 27k

burning up in the sun - Life hasn’t been the same since the Rift. Frank hadn’t been planning on getting stuck in this stupid town, kept captive in the sketchiest bar in the universe, chained to the counter like an animal.And just when he’d been sure that nothing could surprise him anymore, he was rescued by a rock 'n’ roll band of vampires. He hadn’t seen that one coming. 11k

Let The Darkness Lead You Home - Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero’s parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he’s born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he’d go to in order to find a new family to call home. 49k

and me here on the ground - Frank’s worked hard to build a life for himself in the city of Jersey, where dragons swoop and dive over the river, and every day is divided by the ringing of the city bells. He knows the streets of the city like he knows the the tattoos on the backs of his hands, and he’s content with what he has: a job as a bike courier, friends who love to give him shit, and a crush on a professor of art history at the local university.

But he’s also got a secret—one he’s been running from for a long time. But all it takes is one delivery to a mysterious, quite-probably-magical bookshop to show Frank that there are some things you can’t outrun. Especially since he’s finally found a place that he doesn’t want to leave. 32k

This fic. God. Perfect in every way. There will never be anything like this ever again.

Can Never Wrong This Right - It’s 1949 and Dr. Way is a professor of Archeology and Frank is his constantly exasperated (and secretly pining) assistant. When their latest trek takes them to South America to locate the fabled Blood Stone, however, they both find more than they bargained for. 23k

I thought I would never find this fic again!! Was re reading Strange Steps and then looked at the author’s other works and found this fic. Also, the same person wrote Becoming Joan !! And a bunch of other awesome stuff. What a legend.

This Tornado Loves You - 1933. Frank’s been on the run a long time and he’s forced to stop in his old hometown. At first things are about what he expects - old friends, unpleasant memories, and a less-than-desirable home life. Everything changes one night when he stumbles on an old hedge maze hidden in the woods. It’s not the hedge maze that intrigues him the most, though, but the secrets of the house hidden inside. 43k

Smokeless Flame of Fire - Frank blinked. “What kind of name for a genie is Gerard?” 21k

to the midnight land - Being a teenager is hard. Being a Blooded teenager, one with a connection to the Moon and his fur-self, is even worse. He’s got to contend with his own hormones, high school, and the fact that he’s in love with his best friend.

Luckily, Frankie’s got the determination to see things through. He’s got family, friends, and a community of shifters to lean on, and he’s not going to give up. Frankie’s not patient, but he’s stubborn when he knows what he wants. And he wants Gerard. 24k

Everyone Comes To Pan’s - "Second street on the left, and straight on till Mornington Crescent. Tell them Pete sent you.“ 35k

Ain’t Nobody Gonna Love You Like The Devil Do - Frank is a good, God-fearing Catholic boy, and then Gerard happens. Gerard is the most interesting person he’s ever met, arriving in Frank’s small town with late nights and illicit booze and odd, disturbing nightmares trailing in his wake, and before long, Frank finds himself questioning the things he thought he knew. 40k

I read this waaay before I even thought about making a reclist, or even to keep track of what I read. I’m so glad I stumbled upon this fic again.

With Dripping Wings, Heavy Things Won’t Fly - Gerard is in more than a mess when he is kicked out of Heaven, and the demon tracking him is certainly not helping him. Frank has a plan, though, and he needs the fallen angel for it to work. This is what happens when Heaven and Hell collide. 3 really long chapters.

Something Other Than Human - In a world where vampires have risen to take charge as the dominant species, the last of the human race has been forced into servitude and submission. With no job to pay for his mounting number of bills, Frank Iero is being forced to make some hard choices - get a job under the tyrannical reign of the very creatures responsible for the death of his great-grandfather, or be thrown onto the streets to be picked up and used for nothing more than a meal.

His life, however, takes an unforeseen turn when he discovers a vampire in his best friend’s kitchen – a vampire who said best friend is not only friends with, but related to. The last thing he wants is to spend more time with Gerard Way. But Gerard has plenty of problems of his own, one being his desperate need to hire a secretary. And, well. Frank really needs a job.

As Gerard realises that hiring Frank only adds to his problems, Frank may have to come to terms with the fact that it isn’t only vampires who can be prejudice. 42k

Roses Are See-Through - “Ghosts are overrated,” Gerard says. A transparent Frank laughs. 6k

Keep You Safe Tonight - Frank is a werewolf. He’s out running in the woods one night when he’s shot by a hunter with a silver bullet, and ends up collapsing on the grounds of Sir Way, who takes him in to care for him. The silver poisoning has a weird effect on him, and Frank - who has never known finery OR or someone quite like Lord Way - doesn’t know what makes his head spin more. 11k

All That We See Or Seem - "What the hell? What are you doing? Don’t do that! It’ll bite your head off! Oh God we’re going to die!"

A Supernatural AU featuring Gerard the Hunter and Frank the paranormal investigator/journalist. 15 chapters

Don’t Even Take This Bet - Being a vampire tends to automatically mean immortality, so Gerard had come to terms with the fact that relationships probably wouldn’t work out very well for him. But what if, somehow, he manages to keep meeting the same guy (or sometimes girl) over and over again, through different lives? Gerard will keep falling in love with Frank over and over again, meeting all these different versions of him, none of them remembering him, and seeing him die more times than he’d like. He spends decades after each death searching for him, so when he can’t find him for nearly 70 years, he starts to lose hope. That is, until it reappears again, suddenly and completely unexpected, in the form of a cute guy screaming on a stage. 61k

ever just the same (ever a surprise) - As the only charm weaver in his small village, Gerard has lead a quiet but productive life. All of that changes when he crosses the path of a dark fae with royal ambitions. A fairy tale with wicked witches, magic, and (of course) true love. 20k

The One Where Ray Can Hear Sex Dreams - I’m really sorry, Mr. Toro. But I didn’t make you have sex with anyone, as per your request. 2k

When I Think About You (I Touch Myself) - Van!era bodyswap. Gerard is a narcissist. 2k

Untitled - 4k

a not!fic. Mikey disappears, but leaves a note behind for Gerard explaining how to reach him through his dreams. And so Gerard finds himself in a world so very different from his own, with magic and princes (and Frank). + cool art!

hope you survive the experience - In which various members of FOB, MCR, The Used, P!atD, TAI, GCH, and Various Others are students at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters, complete with typical high school hookups, Bad Ideas, Really Bad Ideas, and a wee bit of telekinesis, amongst others. Part one of a series, but can standalone if you like. 3k

He Told Me I Could Never Go Back - Everything was fine until Frank disappeared. 2k

this broke my heart.

The Fall and Rise of The Black Parade - “I used to think this was Hell. I mean, I always figured that’s where I was headed, if there was any afterlife. And then when I got here…there were no lakes of fire, or anything, but I was stuck on my own in a place where nothing grows or changes, so I figured, okay, Hell’s just a little different than I always thought it would be. But then, after a while…it wasn’t so bad. I found a place where I could kind of belong, and I met Toro and Brian and Bob and Mikey…and you. And I figure…if I was in Hell, falling in love shouldn’t really be in the cards, should it?

So after that, I started thinking—okay, maybe this place isn’t anything I ever heard about in school or church. But then again, maybe it is. Maybe this is Purgatory. And I always had the idea that Purgatory was kind of like prison, y’know, you gotta serve your sentence and the only thing that’s gonna get you out quicker is good behavior or having friends in high places. But maybe—maybe you don’t have to just sit around waiting for someone to tell you your sentence is up. Maybe Purgatory ends when you get yourself out of it.” 52k

The author only has 12 out of their 52 frank/gerard fics up on AO3, so here’s a link to all of them (LJ).

Under My Skin - "Maybe," Gerard had said one night, scratching idly at Frank's scalp, "it was something you ate?" "Maybe," Ray said, "it was some kind of sex pollen." Frank growled and said, "maybe if you don't shut up right now I'm going to kick your ass." 1k

Pack - Frank's a very playful werewolf. 1k

And The Autumn Moon Is Bright - "So...what, am I a werewolf now?" 10k

I Wish I Were A Ghost - Halloween is Frank Iero's birthday. It's also the day when the veil between the world of the living and the dead is at it's thinnest.

A ghost-story. Short and sweet. 1k

00.06 - '4 and 14 adopt a newborn baby together. What do they name it, how do they raise it, etc, etc. Do they eventually get it siblings? Do they ditch it in a dumpster on prom night because its not as fun as they thought?'

THIS IS QUITE LITERALLY THE WEIRDEST THING I HAVE EVER WRITTEN. And yet, I am oddly charmed by it. 2k

oh my god. gerard/james potter. it was hilarious. 

Show you what all that howl is for - How is Frank supposed to enjoy a good run knowing Gerard's out there pissing on his trees? 4k

​Now With More Cowbell - Hermes - trickster god first and foremost, the patron saint of robbers and thieves, of conmen and rockstars. He’ll go to bat for you if you make him laugh or if he likes your style, or if you have an offering that tickles his fancy (he’s fond of stuffed animals, cigarettes, and ugly puppies, just as an FYI).

One of his godly duties is to guide souls to the underworld, lead them into their personal version of the afterlife, though maybe some people he doesn’t like get lost along the way. He's not too great with messages, either, to be honest. 0.5k

​Everything in Your Eyes - Gerard's been part of super crime for the past five years, and he's never seen anything like this. A telepathic noir story. 5k

a must-read.

Half the Battle - People tend to assume Gerard is an alpha. Frank knows better. 1k

An Inexplicable Occurrence of Angels - 35k

This was on my Fics-I-Can’t-Find-list, and since this one doesn’t have a description, I’ll just paste in what I could remember from reading it last year: ​

My Chem (minus Frank) broke up after Revenge. One day Frank kinda shows up (can't remember how) Frank's an angel with big wings and is hopelessly clueless about the world, so the rest or My Chem have to help him. They take him on walks and it looks like he has a hunchback bc of his wings. I think Frank doesn't even know any words in the beginning, but he learns english quickly. Loves watching movies. Everyone in My Chem basically crash at ray's place bc of Frank. And they're all Hey... maybe we should pick up the band again...? 

UPDATE: okay i just reread it and it’s sooooo good holy shit. especially the last chapter. there was a comment on AO3 about how they would come back and reread the last chapter over and over again because it made them so happy. that’s probably what i’m gonna do from now on. 

crack your body crack your mind + really fucking awesome art - Frank only comes out when he's alone. 4k

I’m not into xenophilia, but I still enjoyed this. And that art! *swoons*

Frank the Failiest Vampire - Frank's a vampire, and he's finally ready to let the world know. 0.9

a not!fic

Three Sharp Bites - When Frank had imagined the joy of finally finding a helpless thrall who would tilt back his neck for him, displaying the jugular with a undertone of love and utter submission, he didn't really expect it to include the joy of being bent almost in two while his mate fucked the living shit out of him. 0.7k

part two of Frank the Failiest Vampire. This isn’t a not!fic though.

Ten Wearwolves Fighting - By the time Gerard gets back, Frank has been pacing back and forth for at least two hours.He slams Gerard up against the wall as soon as he's deadbolted the door, hands firm against his shoulders. "Where the fuck have you been?" 1k

Hunter - They said the guy in Apartment 1147 was crazy. 1k

The One That You Are Looking For - Frank gets silver poisoning. His pack protects him. 11k

The Midnight Council - Gerard, the child of a forbidden love between vampire and werewolf, ascends the throne of werewolf clan Wajdra at the tender age of eleven. The political situation between the dwindling numbers of the werewolves and their ancient enemies, the vampires, is precarious at best, and when his vampire mother and brother retreat to Transylvania, the only one Gerard can truly trust is Frank, the little werewolf cub who swore himself Gerard's liegeman the very day that they met. Gerard and Frank are raised side-by-side in the castle in a political tinderbox, but as Gerard's coming-of-age approaches, a war between vampires and werewolves looms ever nearer, while humans encroaching on their territory threaten both with extinction. 42k

You know those fics that are so well-written, with so much care for detail and research put into them, that if you had to choose one fic as proof of how incredible fanfiction is to those who claim it’s all trash, that fic would be it? Well, this is a prime example of that. The amount of research the author must have put into this shows itself again and again in the text, and never once did I find a part of it to be lacking in any way.

It’s written all old-timey, which I normally have some trouble with, but other than having to look up a word now and then, it was fine. Adding to that, I think the fic overall would’t have worked as well in its historical setting had the author not used the language that they did.  

Unfortunately, The Midnight Council is an abandoned WIP. I knew this going in, and while I felt sad at the end, I don’t regret reading it at all. Honestly, I just feel thankful for getting a glimpse of their life in such an amazing setting, and I’m glad it was done so flawlessly. So please, go read.

​Get me closer (to God) - Gerard found salvation with his Stars, and Frank was the perfect Catholic. When light and dark collide, what should have been simply sex, becomes something much more than neither could’ve expected. 56k

Chapter seven and eight are blocked, but fear not! Simply click on chapter six, and there should be a drop down meny of all the chapters. From there you just select the next chapter :) Anyway it’s really good, and G is in a cult!

Cupid’s Chokehold - Frank taps his foot on the tile and looks at anything other than Ray’s face for a long moment. Then he groans and says, "I suck at love, alright? I’m a fucking Cupid, a servant of Aphrodite for fuck’s sake, and I suck at making people fall in love.” 13k

The Old Straight Track - Death is weird, Frank thinks, though he suspects this is not the way it's really supposed to go. 30k

This fic is haunting, in more than one way ;) ... Okay, enough puns. Anyway this one has this really cool part -- and I’m not going to spoil it!! -- With the main dudes and a window and I love it a lot so please read it and maybe shoot me an ask and yell about That scene so I can yell back about how gr8 it is. That is all. 

Oh and it has a hilariously lost Pete who can’t get anyone to explain anything to him and it was a well needed laugh from all the other shit going on in the fic. 

The Majesty of Choice - Gerard’s life conforms around a curse that orders his obedience. He soon finds himself thrust into the position of protecting the Prince, a well-meaning man named Frank, who just so happens to be falling in love with Gerard. 100k

according to my ao3 bookmarks (pushes up glasses), the last time I opened this fic was May 2017 (it’s now January 2018) so I have no idea how why I didn’t put it on this category sooner. Anywayz, here iz ze fic!

All The Wicked Shadows - A favor for his friend Mikey leads Frank to an abandoned building in North Jersey...where Mikey's dark secret is hiding. 5k

Well written, surprisingly scary, really refreshing insight into the vampire trope. And the art is great!

​A Borrower of the Night - When a curse causes Frank and Gerard to switch powers, Frank takes things a step too far, while Gerard scrambles to break it before he loses Frank and Frank loses his mind. 8k

The Anatomy of a Fall - The unholy union of a high school AU and a ghost story. Gerard's life takes a strange turn when his family moves to a small town in Vermont and he discovers the locals aren't all what they seem to be. Also includes: unexpected nature walks, murder, pining, improper treatment of crime scenes, a number of bone-related puns, high school bullies, and a short-range shrub named Ferdinand. 107k

So I always thought I had this on my rec list, but when I went to add a link to some truly awesome fanart of it (here! spoiler free as well ;), I couldn’t find it??. Here it is, anyway. Not like any of y’all lurkers needed my rec list to find this fic anyway, I mean it’s one fucking third of the motherfucking holy trinity of mcr fics. Fuck, I need to start rereading it. I don’t even think I finished it in the first place!? Ugh, that’s on me, not the fic. The fic is the motherfluffing shit.

A Wish And I'm Gone - Gerard is 17 years old in 1922. Frank is 17 years old in 1984. They both just want to be somewhere else, somewhere better. 2k (still updating!)

In Firmer Chains, Our Hearts Confine - Former musical composer and current writer Gerard Way is a sensation of the musical and literary scenes of 1800s London. But after struggling for ages with his new book, he’s close to giving up. Until he receives an offer from Grant Morrison himself; to go to his manor in Scotland and work on his novel in peace. Gerard seizes upon the chance immediately. Grant, however, has a dark secret he’s desperately trying to keep hidden. And Gerard has a few of his own. 37k

Picture me, casually stumbling upon this fic one late night. Historical? Check. An AU but Gerard’s talents are still appreciated and encouraged, and he makes a name for himself? Double check. Grant Morrison? Check. Gerard and Grant’s dark secrets? CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK CHECK

Me: *already fucking shaking from excitement, now glancing up at the tags* Enter the tag Alternate Universe - Vampire. Queue foaming at the mouth.

This fic was so fucking awesome in so many ways I don’t even know where to begin. The slow and suspenseful unraveling of secrets and mysteries. The numerous parallels drawn between the AU and real life events of the people in it, and that the author made sure that they all worked within the AU without a hitch. All the actions and ambitions of the people in it that somehow managed to balance masterfully on the fine line between what’s canon and what’s realistic for that time period.

Fuck, lurkers guys. I’m not sure if my word-vomiting even gets anyone to read fic on my list, but for the sake of this fic (and my ego sdkjlskldhfklf) I ask anyone reading this to p l  e a s e read it. For your own sake. And mine. Because I need to yell about this fic with somebody, STAT.

Ships: Gerard/Grant, and very, I repeat, VERY low-key Frank/Mikey

A Guided Tour of the October Country: Please Keep Your Arms and Legs Inside the Wind of Death At All Times - That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and midnights stay. 7k

Mysterious, some angst imo, and plenty of adorable geekiness to round it off ;)

Adrift - When successful author Gerard Way is forced to do something drastic to spur on his creativity, he decides to move out of the city. He buys an old villa in the small town of Kellmington and is satisfied with that, until he discovers that it’s already inhabited by one of the former residents: a persistent ghost. To have a dead spirit around is certainly not what he paid for, but Gerard soon learns that the ghost has its own story – a story that might lead him to a life-changing plot twist. 31k

Maaaaan I am I glad I read this. A ghost ... mysteries ... historical flashbacks ... a pinch of horror ... Successful Writer!Gerard ... foreshadowing ... Old creaky houses ... I’m going to come clean. I shed tears over this fic. Dammit, I need some art of that last scene. Maybe I’ll make an attempt once exams are out of the way.

Monsters and Kings - AU where Frank, a member of a werewolf clan, is forced to marry Gerard, the son of the Vampire King. The marriage seals a peace treaty between the two species. Frank expected he would be killed immediately after the wedding, but things are not so simple. He never expected to actually like his new husband, and that makes things far too complicated. 133k

Listen I have so many feelings about this fic. First of all, an A+++ take on werewolves. Secondly... I had no idea it was that long until I finished it. Somehow got it in my head that it was 41k (??) so I was like “‘aight this is the perfect length let’s go” but that number came and went quickly as I read this, and I’m so glad it was way longer (three times as long as I thought!). It couldn’t have been any less than 133k with everything it was packed with.

This isn’t a fic that was made by dropping the pairing into some rando time and place, oh no. The background stories , culture clashes, creature politics, intricate rituals and traditions, allies, enemies (that antagonist tho) and lovers... the whole shebang. Not to mention that fucking awesome epilogue. Too fucking cute.

Psst! Make sure to check out 1_800_FRERARD’s comment on the fic lol. BUT ONLY AFTER READING IT BECAUSE IT’S LIKE THE BIGGEST SPOILER OTHERWISE OH MY GOD

Oh, and check out 1_800_FRERARD’s fics as well––they’re awesome.

you weaseled your way into my heart (and ferreted out my feelings) - You gotta watch out for those bands with umlauts. 5k

Through the Trees - After being bit by an unknown werewolf and left to figure out this new change on his own, Frank’s life is further turned upside down when his mom announces they’re moving to a new town halfway through Frank’s senior year. What Frank doesn’t expect is that there are already two packs of territorial werewolves. He tries to figure out where he fits, if anywhere at all, or if he’s going to have to continue on as a lone wolf. 47k

This fic was way funnier and way more light-hearted than I thought it would be. Frank is your typical teenager, mad at his mom for uprooting him in his senior year, feeling isolated on account on the werewolf factor, and in the middle of all that he discovers that there are others like him. But Frank is just so ... Frank. He’s just like, “Whatever man, I get this whole, ‘my turf’ thing, but there’s a really good show about to play in this neighborhood, sooo...” And the flirting! Oh god, the flirting. I at times felt a tiiiiny bit bad for poor Gerard who was not. at all. prepared for this type of shameless wooing. Especially from this newly turned wolf who can’t tell his two paws apart from each other.

Another thing I really loved in this fic was how different the characters’ approaches to werewolf identity were. Like, there were times when Frank was venting his frustration with being turned, and Gerard would say like, “Is... is it really that bad?” Because for him, that’s his identity and heritage. Before him, his grandmother was pack leader. And idk, I just loved how that was a part of this absolutely wonderful and hilarious fic.

Rising With the Heat - "Bullet?" he says, voice high and confused. "Um, hi?" Frank says, dropping to the ground. "You're the one – have you been following me all week?" Gerard asks, slowly lowering the spray can. Bob's going to give him so much shit for this. "I just wanted to make sure you got home safe." 2k

Frank is a superhero sidekick who’s fallen for Gerard, who he previously saved from getting mugged. Gerard finds it cute. And maybe a little bit hot. 

Of All the Places in the Universe - Gerard, an alien with a severe case of anomie and wanderlust, crash-lands in Jersey while traveling the galaxy. A chance meeting with a creature his studies had told him didn't exist leads to a surprising turn of events. With time, Gerard comes to call Earth home, and finds love with the adorable punk who found him--Frank, an energetic puppy of a werewolf who's really more bark than bite. 30k

"You know The Smiths?"

Gerard grinned. "Oh, yes! They're one of my favorite Earth bands."

Monster Under the Bed - “You’re not real. Go away,” Gerard ordered. “If I’m not real, then who are you talking to?” it countered. “My imagination.” “Can your imagination shake the bed?” Gerard screeched. “Stop that!” There was a sigh from underneath the bed. “It makes me sad to be told I’m not real. Sad and angry.” Gerard whimpered and squeezed his eyes shut. “All right—you’re real! Stop shaking the bed!” 3k

Heaven Help Us - It's hot, but that's nothing new, Gerard's used to this by now. The heat surges up his back and causes his spine to roll with shudders to get used to the new temperature. His white wings flap a few times as he gets used to standing firmly on the ground before they fold in, disappearing back under the skin of his shoulder blades. The musky smell is heavy, and it's almost overbearing, but Gerard doesn't care. He's only here for one thing, and as soon as he gets it, he'll be gone. 9k

Obligatory ‘Haven’t Read This In Years’. Can’t remember the details, but it is pretty dark, with torture etc. ... I used to read some messed up stuff. But then! The twist!!! Now *that* I remember. ... You’ll have to read it to find out. ;)

A Red So Deep - Constantine AU. Warnings for gore, religious themes, suicide.

Brendon says, “Ugh.” “That’s why I like you,” Frank tells him between spits. “You’re articulate.” “What else is there to say, you know?” Brendon shrugs. He gingerly pinches his jacket by the edges of a button and lifts it a little to get access to the inner breast pocket. “’Ugh, we’re covered in blood because you killed a demon with a shotgun that was blessed by some psycho priest a decade ago.’ Like that?” “You’re right. Don’t do that,” Frank concedes after a pause. 14k

Criminally underrated. Frank deals with a lot of shit that other people don’t usually notice, and Brendon is his nerdy apprentice of sorts. Frank runs into Gerard, who has come for his help. Throughout the fic you’ll notice that things are gearing up for something … big. Which of course unnerves the hell out of Frank. Also, no spoilers and all that but this seriously gives me strong vibes of Deathwish (guess who just got home and saw that her copy arrived!). Which of course, just adds more awesomeness to it.

Shadows In The Parking Lot - In which there’s a mass grave under Frank and Ray’s apartment complex, Frank doesn’t believe in ghosts, & Frank’s ex-boyfriend is, conveniently, a paranormal consultant. For Milo. 61k

Well, I just stayed up until 4AM to finish this masterpiece. I love love love the characterization, and the whole “we used to be a thing years ago.” Which I haven’t really read much of, but it worked SO well for this fic and it might be my new thing. Not to mention the spookyness! It was so awesome, especially how nonchalant Frank was about ghosts in the beginning, which seemed to be more confusing to Gerard than if Frank just straight up was a firm non-believer. lol. Will definitely reread around Halloween! :D Also, the author said that they’re working on a sequel!!!!

A Fate Worse Than Death [Spells] - “Can I help you find anything?” an employee had asked. Frank just waved them off. “A box I can fit my ex-boyfriend’s body in.” had hardly seemed like an appropriate response.

~ Or, The story of how Frank Iero became a vampire slayer in the worst possible state to wake up a vampire. A daydream on ‘The Taste Of Ink’ by The Used. 59k

Hot damn. Love how Frank took down those vamps for G. And that graveyard scene! Good stuff. Felt like I was reading a comic at times because I could visualize everything so clearly.

Fuck and Run - Meaningless hookups are easier than dating when you’re a werewolf. That is, until your brother sets you up on a blind date with someone you’ve already *ahem* ‘seen’ before. 144k

my comment (with tiiiny spoilers): Hngr. I feel like I can’t describe my love for this story in more than caveman grunts right now, I’m afraid. My cat can def attest to how much noise I made while reading it. The moments I had to put my phone down and do a Face Cradle (Gerard! Why didn’t you use the B-word in that comicbook shop? You had one job!) and the parts where I was so intensely drawn into the story that my eyes would end up all puffy and red the next day from spending the night inches away from my screen, rarely blinking or looking away for more than a moment. Anyways this was so ... HNNGRSHSH. Fuck. Just .... too cool. Loved the little glimps into their future as well, you really know how to give the people what they want. AND ALSO it’s really cool how frank and g still have other friends and relationships and connections with other people that matter!! I’m proud of them!!!! And Gerard abd Mikey’s grandma who thought it was all a metaphor... that’s like, the perfect example of little details and backstory that you sprinkle throughout the fic, much appreciated. And the FIGHTS and the LOVE and the VIBES and the LONGING. And how Gerard sees the wolf and the tragedy and the hopelessness and the brotherly love and Mikey’s silver bullets in case something goes wrong AND THE LORE WITH THE WITCH’S CURSE! And that werewolf dating site with the creepy werewolf dudes, I kept thinking how, yup, I could totally see that kind of creepy power dynamic playing out (unfortunately) so while this is obviously fantasy it is still so grounded in todays culture and our reality which is always a fun combo to explore. NOT TO FUCKING MENTION EX BOYFRIEND GERARD i am now a full blown fan of that trope and i blame you entirety. And Gerard just sitting in the bathtub in the dark ... man, just little stuff like that really pulled me in to it, yknow?? And frank attempting to make steak for his werewolf boyfriend! *heart eyes* HHDSJJS I SHOULD STOP NOW BUT FUCK DUDE THIS WAS SICH A BANGER TO READ I MEAN HONESTLY YOUR WORK IS LIKE 10/10 and so is your tumblr (yes hi i was That person this last week) / the end

A State Of Orange - Being a halfling in a red state can sometimes cause issues for Frank Iero. He’s the weakest at Jett Clement High School, and probably the entire state (not counting the meal plans). His moods are oddly stable, as much as he tries to be mercurial. And being able to withstand the sun for up to twenty minutes only allows him more time to be forced into chores.

Still, his parents are insane if they think he’s going to be happy about their decision. Frank doesn’t want to move to a Mixed state. How is he supposed to get great friends? How is he supposed to find great food? How is he supposed to have great sex? But Frank doesn’t have a choice. He’s New Jersey bound for the next year, if not longer. He’ll be surrounded by tame vampires who have been nagged out of a sex drive, and humans he’s not allowed to eat. Mixed states suck.

Lucky for him, not every person in Jersey sucks. 19k

A really interesting and different AU. I love the, er, misconceptions Frank has about other characters. Heh.

Kiss The Bottle - A drunk wizard slips Frank a love potion while the band is in between tour dates. Chaos and mischief ensues. 35k

An impeccable casting of the wizard, I must say. lol

Superheroes (2-part series) - Mikey isn’t a superhero. 3k

Ship: Frank/Mikey

Don't Fear the Reaper - Gerard's not the greatest with faces but there's one that keeps crossing his path that he can't ignore. 4k

Holy Water Like Cheap Whiskey - "Like motherfucking Romeo and Juliet. Except you don't like heights, and I'm pretty sure Juliet never sipped on dudes' blood." 46k

THE SCENE IS DEAD - 20k

Can’t remember who wrote this description (it’s on my to-do list) (was it disenchanted?) but THEY PUT IT INTO WORDS: “I don't know how to begin to describe this one... It's written in an unusual format - ie. a lot of it is told through newspaper articles and webpages but it's one of those super haunting fics that stays with you for days. I don't think there are any triggers listed so be warned there are character deaths and supernatural stuff.”

And I really don’t have more to add. I don’t even want to say anything more because honestly for this fic, the less you know the better. For me the experience of reading it was made a hundred times better just by the emotional rollercoasters I was put through. Lol. Trying to figure out what was going on/going to happen next was really fun.