#yes the paper is safe for him to chew

[dusty-fat-boy]

Witness his reign of destruction!

Witness the pain he brings!

This is who you pray to!

This is who you worship!

This could be you next!

WHY WOULD YOU GIVE HIM THIS MUCH POWER!

[housederiva]

Here's every version of the letter the Inquisitor gets from their LI plus Varric (which didn't make me cry at all)

If your Inky didn't romance anyone:

Inquisitor, Greetings from miserable, rainy Minrathous! (Don't tell Dorian I called it that.) The rotten weather here is making me nostalgic for Skyhold. The mountains were freezing, but at least the air didn't smell like wet garbage. We'll have to get in another game of Wicked Grace, soon. Harding picked up the trail again. I'd tell you not to worry, but I know how useless that is. Instead, I'll just say: I've got a great team on this. Neve could stare down the Maker, and wait until you meet Rook. He's/She's/They're a natural: Smart, resourceful, completely unpredictable. You'd like him/her/them, as long as you don't try to beat him/her/them at cards. Chuckles'll never know what hit him. I'll write again once we have something solid for you. Drinks at the Hanged Man are on me when this is over. Take care of yourself. Varric

Blackwall:

My love, You have summoned me to Minrathous, and I will answer your call, as soon as responsibilities here in the South allow. I have missed being by your side. Will these troubles be the last we face? The world seems always to conspire, through duty or disaster, to pull you away from me. I do not resent it. You are dedicated to purposes far larger and more significant than myself. I hope you do not think me a fool for hoping that one day, your only concern will be the color you wish our walls to be painted, or the flowers we will plant beside our gate. I'm partial to carnations. Yours always, Thom

Cassandra:

My love, We are no strangers to duty, or the separation it demands of us. You head for Tevinter, and though I want to go with you, there is work we both must do. I will not falter in the tasks that wait before me and I pray my actions, in whatever measure they can, will keep you safe. The others see only confidence in my resolve, but you have always known more than mere appearance. I confess to you, and you alone, that I am afraid. I'm afraid of what may happen, that Thedas will face such turmoil as it did before. I know not what awaits us. Yet even in the face of uncertainty, there are two things I cannot doubt and never will. The first is that our paths are never separated long. That I will find you at my side when I need you, as you will find me at yours. I will play my part in this and follow as soon as I can. The second thing I never doubt is you. Whatever lies before you, trust yourself. Trust your heart as I trust it. It will not lead you astray. Yours, Cassandra

Cullen:

The top of the letter has been punctured by small, sharp teeth, leaving most of a beloved name and a few sentences chewed to read. I fear the puppy started on this letter shortly after I did. I'd start over, but I must send this tonight if it's to reach you. Matters are settled here and I make for Tevinter as soon as possible. I almost believed chaos might spare us this time. I can't say I wished to see Minrathous before now, but I am eager to see you. I long to see your face and know that you are all right. You are I've There's I wish I was better at putting into writing all that's in my mind. For now, simply know that I love you. It is the most cherished constant of my life. The days ahead will not be easy. I know there's much you carry, more than many realize. But whatever you must face, you will not meet it alone. You have my sword, my counsel, my - I could write this list forever when all I mean to say is this - Whatever you need of me, I am yours. Cullen

Dorian:

Amatus, I'm writing. Again. Yes, the sending crystals still work and yes, you'll be in Minrathous in a few short weeks. But a letter, written in blind longing, is real. It can be touched, and it can be held, when ink and paper must substitute for your skin on mine and my breath in your ear. I used to scoff at frequent declarations of affection. Trite, I thought. Save them for rare and precious moments. But time and love are no longer things I care to squander, especially not as we race again toward calamity. And so, in each of these fleeting, ephemeral seconds, I will tell you that I love you. Whether penned or spoken, or conveyed by glance or action, I love you. In this moment, and in all the moments to come, for as long as they do, I love you. I will find you soon. Yours, Dorian

Iron Bull

Hey, Kadan, Not the first time we've marched toward different battles. I know you're keeping the crap from catching fire up in Tevinter. Wish I could be there, but I'll make sure there's a world for you to come back to when you're done dealing with crazy vints and stupid Antaam and whatever other crap Solas kicked up. (Shit, the Antaam. Remember when I was worried what would happen if I went tal-vashoth? That right there!) I know you're gonna be careful, and you've got Morrigan there. Just take care of yourself. If anything happens to you, I'm going to have to take Krem and the Chargers and stomp across all of Tevinter to come get you. It'll be a whole thing, and you know it'll upset Dorian. Being apart from you made me realize something else. I spent so long being whatever the Ben-Hassrath wanted me to be. An investigator. An agent. A mercenary sending reports. These past years, since the Inquisition ended, I've been able to just be what I want to be. And what I really want to be is yours. I like the person I am when I'm with you. So come back safe. Love, The signature appears to be a stylized rendering of the Iron Bull's head.

Josephine:

My Dearest Lord/Lady, I have spoken to friends in Minrathous. They offer us their hospitality, not to mention shelter from the worst intrigues of the Archon's Palace. While you're well acquainted with the roving eyes of grand courts, please take care. Tevinter's regard can be the oldest and cruelest of them all. The family writes the weather back home is beautiful. I do miss our quiet times together. There is a question I've wanted to ask you for so long. I would like to pretend I have been busy, or it was not the proper time. But, if I am being honest, I only waited because I have been afraid of choosing a poor moment. Please, let me make a promise to you here. When we return to Antiva, I will ask you, on the steps of the estate, if you will do me a great honor. And I dream you will say yes. Always yours, Josephine Postscript: I cannot believe it nearly slipped my mind. Yvette and Lord Otranto send their best wishes, and hope to see us back home in time to welcome their third child.

Sera:

(An artistically doodled journal page presumably from the Inquisitor's partner, Sera.) Keep this as close as I need you. (A drawing of a pile of flowers, with lines like it's moving, an arrow pointing to it labeled "us.") - North again, Mini-wrathus still stuck up its own pucker. - Magiturds are scared of us. They don't even know. - We work with Maevaris, right? She's wow. - So many Friends! Jennies in all the walls! - We kill him this time. He took from us twice! (A drawing of a cracked egg scribbled out, with "can't even joke" in letters that tore the page.) - Still thinking of you sideways. - Never mind the Dalish, here's the Veil Jumpers! Tempest-kin! (A drawing of a tall, shorthaired elf (Sera?) and Irelin brandishing two fingers, backflipping as a tree explodes in runes.) - The memory thing makes my head spin. If that Rook doesn't take it, throw it out. - Tell Morrigan ppbbth! for me. - I'll also tell her ppbbth! She knows why. - Tell them to Stripe. Him. Up. I wanted more books. (More heavy scribbles that tear.) - You meet; I'll keep you safe. Then I'm your time off, and you're my time on. (The last section has different colored inks, like Sera has returned to it several times.) New naked names: -Sweet-tits (scribbled out) -Bestest (scribbled out) -Loverly (scribbled out) -Lovey (scribbled out) -My-for-always-and-ever - name's not too long, time's too short. -But "Sweet-tits," though (scribbled out)

Solas:

Vhenan, I do not know if you will see these words. My ritual is ready and will soon be set in motion. Perhaps when you read this the world will be as it once was, and you will see why all I did was necessary. I cannot ask your forgiveness, but I hope you come to understand. That night in Crestwood, when I shared the truth about your vallaslin... you do not know how close I came to breaking. I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas... as I wanted. I regret the pain I caused you. What I feel for you will never change. The note is unsigned, but the handwriting is Solas'.

[tremendouscreationperson]

Logan x Reader pt.3

Listen here folks, I remember a lot from the movie however most of those memories are Hugh Jackman's abs

I hope this is alright, I added a few bits and obviously there will be dialogue that I have forgotten but I really hope it's semi-good, I know a lot of you have wanted a third part so hopefully it lives up to your standards 🫶

There be "violence" in this one

<< Part 2 Part 4 >> Masterlist

Logan had spent the journey drinking Gambit's booze and watching you sleep. You looked younger when you slept, less worn. He used to love taking you to your room when you fell asleep grading his pupil's papers or even just watching TV in the sitting room. He'd scoop you up in his arms and secure you safely in your room, then eventually he'd settle you in his. 

You had said the word husband yesterday, that wasn't lost on him. You'd been married to your version of Wolverine. One that wasn't too ‘macho’ to ask. One that loved you freely. He was a fucking idiot for being scared to take that leap. He and you had settled into a fuck-buddy-but-there-were-feelings-involved situation. 

He could've had more with you. 

Maybe if he was with you he wouldn't have been at a bar when the humans attacked.

He was lost without his friends but he was truly wrecked without you. When he found your body amongst the pile of mutants something inside him snapped. He couldn't stop hurting people. It began with the bad, then the semi-bad, then the not bad and eventually he killed innocents. He killed people that didn't deserve it. He made a bad name for the mutants and the X-Men. He killed the X-Men by tarnishing the memory. 

He couldn't be without you again. He'd bring you with him, take you to wherever Deadpool was taking him.

Surely he could convince you.

“You'll have to wake her soon.” Laura's voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was staring intensely but not in an intimidating way. He didn't think she could stare without the intensity behind her eyes. She was born with it, through him. 

“I will.” He agreed. 

“You want some?” She raised an open cereal box. He didn't know why but he didn't want to insult her any more. He accepted some and thanked her. It was chalky but tasted vaguely like chocolate. Laura still just watched Logan, every stretch of his jaw as he chewed and eventually swallowed and then she still gazed into his soul  “You love her.” 

Logan didn't think it was a question but responded. He couldn't disagree if he wanted to. “Yes.” 

“I do, too.” She flicked her eyes to your face and then turned her head, repositioning herself on Blade's shoulder. 

Logan stayed still for another few minutes but the silhouette of the giant, Wade called Paul Rudd, became visible in the distance. It was time to wake you. 

He delicately shook your shoulder and you frowned, grumbling and burrowing higher into his neck.

“Baby.” Logan shook you again, and you let out a huff, squinting open one eye. “We'll be there soon.” 

You raised your head and slowly sat up, eyes sleepy and letting out a small yawn. Logan gave you a soft smile as he flattened a piece of hair that had stuck out, his hand slid down to caress your cheek. 

“You could come with us.” 

“With you?” Your brain was still mush. “I can't leave them.” 

“No.” He lied. “You should be up there in the skull with ‘Pool and me. It would be a better vantage point for you.” 

The plan was to have Laura, Elektra, Blade, and Gambit on the offence whilst you were their defence. You always were the protector, the shield of the group. Wade and Logan were going to distract and then use Juggernaut’s helm to bargain with Cassandra Nova. 

You took a moment to consider with your slow brain but then agreed. “Yeah, that's probably a good idea.” 

You continued to wake yourself up, preparing for a fight. It wasn't hard to, everyday in this wasteland was a fight. Everyone seemed to work for this Cassandra lady which meant that they wanted to kill you for not. 

In your peripheral you saw Blade open the sunroof, before rummaging in his bag.

Gambit spoke over the radio, “so, ami, ‘e gonna be ‘lastin’ a way through those’re hands.” 

“What he means to ask is how are we going to get through? I feel like that was an integral part of this plan and I have miss-” Wade cut himself off when he felt movement behind him. Blade had stood and freed the rocket launcher, hoisting it over his shoulder and aiming. “Oh my god, where did you get that?” 

El glanced through the rearview mirror and answered, “Punisher.” slamming her foot down on the gas.

“What one there's been like five?” 

You couldn't hear the end of his question as Blade fired the shot, it landed right in the centre breaking the fingers. 

“Hold on!” El ordered as she expertly spun the car to the left. 

Smoke plumed as you all were quick to exit. Elektra, Wade and Blade were to the left side. Logan, yourself and Laura to the right, Gambit was in the middle shuffling his deck. 

The others: mutants, supes, enhanced, all crowded you, waiting for the order to kill. There were familiar faces such as Lady Deathstrike, Toad, Juggernaut and Blob. There were others that you were fairly sure you recognised through their distinctive features despite them having different faces, like Azazel and Pyro. 

There were a good fifty more circling you, Laura smirked putting her sunglasses on. Blade spun his weapons then tapped one on Elektra's sais in a ‘cheers’ motion. Wade had his katanas out and your Wolverines both extended their claws. You and Gambit, the only ones with ‘magic’ powers stayed fairly still, well, as still as he could be. 

Cassandra was standing above you all in the skull of an Ant-Man, you remembered when he got there. She was quick to free him of skin and then organs. Positioning him in this horrid way, using his body as a base. It made you sick when you thought of the palaces and the buildings that came through the portals in abundance. 

“You came back.” She spoke. Her accent was posh but her tone was clipped. Clearly annoyed. 

“You have to send us back!” Wade shouted. 

She gave you a smirk and retreated into the right eye socket. 

Here's where the fun begins. 

“Let's fucking go!” Deadpool yelled. You all let out a war cry, Gambit's being “Allons!” as you all depart at the same time, each of you taking a side and going for it. Blade went toe to toe with Toad, Elektra fought Lady Deathstrike, Logan fought a very large man you didn't recognize, Wade fought a Doc Ock, Gambit took on a group of four, and Laura went for the big guy himself. Juggernaut. 

You were paired with Azazel. The man zapping about, striking you and vanishing before you could catch him. It took his tail tripping you for you to land on your back and actually be in a good-visibility position. Quickly you trapped him in a forcefield. It was an intense battle of power. The field had been a bubble but you wrapped it around his appendages and forced him to stay in one spot. Forced him still. But he struggled. He fought against you, red mist seeping from the forcefield as he thrashed about. 

You had trapped him but couldn’t do anything to dispose of him. If you flung him away he would just reappear and it was getting noticed that you were distracted. Quickly you rose to your feet, arms still extended, shaking with brute force and out of the corner of your eye you could see her. She ran towards you and you dropped on hand flinging a force field in the shape of a disc - you had so eloquently named a forcedisc - at her. It sliced through her side but she didn't stop. 

“El!” You yelled, barely dodging the acid she spat. Your arms stayed extended in the same position but you managed to kick her in the chest as she took a deep breath. She spluttered, acid dripping down her face and landing on her shirt. Her skin was immune but the fabric burned. 

Elektra spun to your call and nodded, having fought with you before she understood what was needed. 

You moved Azazel over to her and Elektra stabbed him, your forcefield opening just as the sai made contact. 

As you focused on the exact millisecond to release your palms, ‘acidgirl’ was able to choke you from behind. You conjured a muzzle over her mouth and held it there. Quickly plucking your knife out. 

Killing wasn't exactly new to you but it always felt bad, no matter if the feeling got smaller and smaller each time. You still felt guilty as you thrust behind and stabbed her stomach. 

Once you released the field her acid fell upon your shoulder. The suit fizzled and you were quick to pull the fabric from your skin. It still burned through but you pushed on. 

“Oit L/N!” Wade shouted over spinning cartoonishly across Logan's back to stab someone. 

You hadn't realised how isolated you were compared to the others, you were right at the back of the group, by the car. You threw out some forcediscs holding them stationary and jumped on them, over the heads of those trying to kill you. You ran, ascending up, towards the skull, flinging a couple out for Wade and Logan. They were quick to follow your cue and you made sure they and you got to each eye socket. 

They entered the right as you perched in the left, finding yourself at a much better position strategically.

Their plan was distraction. Yours was protection. You could do yours in your sleep. Quickly stopping a hammer landing on Elektra and misplacing a punch to Gambit. 

You had gotten more powerful being here. You had to. Your forcefields were no longer merely for protection, they could now be used as a force. Similar to Jean’s telekinesis except you were still using the forcefields, only they were now differently shaped, i.e. the ball that had knocked into the man's fist when he aimed for Gambit's face. 

A gate fell to the floor, landing on the Honda, and a creature stalked out of it, dark claws crushing the car as though it was tissue paper. 

You were quick to try and halt the thing. It was a humongous wolf? You couldn't be sure as it had two sets of eyes and three tails. It was clearly not from your version of earth. 

“Let it go!” Blade yelled up, smiling wide. “I got this!” 

You obeyed his order and focused your energy on Laura. Who had just decapitated Juggernaut. That's my girl. 

Quickly you flung multiple discs for her to jump onto, she was efficient as always and leapt towards the right eye socket when Psylocke's lasso yanked her back.

“Laura!” You screamed, instinctively opening a field around her head and closing your fist, crushing it - you'd never even thought to do that, never once occurred to use your power that way - just in time your baby tossed her backpack into the eye socket and it skidded across the marble floor and straight into Deadpool's awaiting hand.

You hadn't even noticed what was going on behind you. There was talking and now nothing. Sneaking a glance you saw Logan on his knees with Cassandra holding his cheeks. Her fingers disappeared into his skin, he was twitching slightly but she looked peaceful. 

Wade quickly revealed the helm and tiptoed behind her. 

“BOOM!” Gambit’s voice could be heard and then a series of much larger explosions than you were used to detonated. 

You were brought back to the battle at hand and decided that maybe crushing heads was the way to go when you saved El, who had been cornered by two men. 

Blade, having been fighting the beast, was currently sat on top of it and plunged a knife into its head. Downing the creature. 

There actually wasn't an awful lot of enemies left to fight and you were feeling good about the outcome when you saw it.

Alioth. 

The celestial dragon had its gaze set upon you. “Guys!” You called down. “Alioth is coming!” 

Realistically there wasn't anything you could do. You couldn't shield them from this. But perhaps Cassandra could? Did she save people from the dragon? Surely she didn't offer them up, right?

“Get inside!” You ordered and quickly turned to find Wade holding her firmly with Juggernaut’s helmet forced upon her. 

Logan was talking to her and you jogged over. 

“Alioth is coming.” You informed. 

“I can't save you with this on my head.” She taunted. 

“You won't save us anyway!” Wade countered, “Logan, you want me to off her?” His fingers twitched near her neck. 

“No.” Logan shook his head. 

“You sure? I'm right here.” 

“It's not what-Charles wouldn't want that. If he knew about you, my Charles, he would stop at nothing to come find you. To save you. He would've loved you.” 

You had known Cassandra for her reputation. She was the big cheese, she called the shots, she had an immense power and used it to do whatever she wanted. Everyone else were her playthings. But here, with the helm on, she looked small. She was tiny and thin and her eyes glossed over at Logan's words. 

“Mine, too.” You knew you didn't have to speak but you wanted her to know. That was the X-Man in you. Charles’ influence. Everyone deserves help. 

She looked at you and you felt as though she was looking into your very soul. Her eyes, even powerless, were weighty. 

“We can't release her, she'll kill us.” Wade reminded you. He wasn't wrong. What could you do? What should you do? 

You didn't have the time to think of a plan. “We need to hurry up, that monster is on its way.” 

A gunshot echoed through the skull as well as your own. You quickly forced a shield up, covering the four of you. 

Pyro was behind it, pointing the weapon at Cassandra. Your eyes followed the angle to see she was beginning to bleed heavily from her stomach. 

“I am tired of being her errand boy! 'Do this, get that', well no more!” He sauntered towards you all, the gun lowered to his side, you slowly eased the shield back as he spoke. “When is it my turn? First Magneto, then Apocalypse, Scarlet Witch and now Cassandra Nova!” 

When he was within range Logan silenced him with an efficient right hook. You know it hurt, because that man was heavy. 

“Not everyone gets a speech.” 

Blood splurged from Cassandra’s mouth as she coughed. “Shit!”  

“Wade, you have to take her helmet off.” 

“She, again, will. Kill. Us.” He tightened his hold. “You missed it, she said she'd ‘rub herself silly watching’ a second ago!”

“She's dying.” You argued. 

Logan agreed, “she needs her powers to help us, we're stuck here if she dies.” 

Wade let out a frustrated yell before he conceded and yanked the helmet off her. Her body fell to the floor as he let go and you were quick to help her. 

“It's okay, can you hea-” She was already up and standing, leaving you kneeling on the floor. “Oh.” 

You stood to your full height and watched as she kicked Pyro’s body before addressing you. “A wizard came through here. He died and I got this.” She revealed a fancy ring. Causing Wade to gasp and say ‘strange’. “You saved me and I am curious to how this will play out...so I suppose I can get you back, but you better hurry. As your friend mentioned, Alioth is coming.” 

Cassandra raised her arms and spun a circle, forming a physical one as she did. It crackled and sparked and in the centre was a street. There were cars and houses and people. It was home. Or a version of a home. 

It was civilisation. 

After all this time you could smell it. 

“Go on.” She nodded towards the ‘portal’. 

Logan grasped your hand and you were tempted. By god you were. 

But Gambit, Elektra, Blade and Laura. Your Laura who you had to help with her periods and hygiene; Laura who came into your room when she had a bad dream; Laura who had offered to help feed Blade - in a similar fashion that Logan did - because she ‘healed’ and didn't want you guys to suffer. 

You pulled free from him. “I can't leave her.”  

“Y/N.” Logan tried again. “This is your chance to escape!” 

“I won't leave her.” You clarified. 

“I-” 

“Guys, chop chop!” Wade accentuated the words with a clap. 

“Save the world and come back for me.” You offered lamely. It was a very long shot. But what else could you say? You knew he was here to save Deadpool's world, if it worked maybe you could all live there?

“I can't lea-” 

You pushed him away. “Go. I'll be here.” 

.

.

Part 4

[inkdrinkerworld]

jack of all trades

wc: 3.7k

pairing: handyman!james x teacher!reader [though can be read as any reader]

cw: fluff, life mishaps, handyman!james, mention of a break in, family dynamics [healthy], mention of food

You were fucked. You should’ve just called a plumber from the beginning.

Now your pipes were all wrinkled and your sink wasn’t draining.

Your heart was in your throat as you pulled out your phone and called your brother, Michael.

“Do you know any plumbers? My sink’s pipe is fucked,” you send him a picture and he chuckles down the line. Your brother is a mechanic, but he's got friends in many places.

Places you hope include wherever they hire plumbers.

“Yeah, I’ll call someone. Make sure you don’t use it again, dummy.” you nod, chewing at your cuticle.

“Thanks,” your voice shakes and you know your brother is frowning.

Life had been fucking you with no prep for the last couple months. Someone had broken into your house almost five weeks ago, stolen a couple small pieces of jewellery and fucked with your locks.

You’d had to change the locks, your front door and you’d taken to sleeping in the living room with a three inch knife under your pillow.

That had put you out of money for groceries and your brother had taken over doing it for you till you could again.

Now you can’t wash your dishes and your anxiety is all over the place.

“Stop it, go get ice cream or something. I’ll come over with him if he can swing it, okay?”

“You're the best,” you say earnestly and he chuckles, “I’ll buy shit to make the buns you like as payment.”

Your brother doesn’t deny himself the delicacy- it had taken a while for you to get back into doing things that made you happy and he was also a sucker for them.

“I’ll text you what he says, be safe. Love you.”

You return the sentiment and head out, double checking that you’d locked the gate and the front door.

You’d gotten a pint of orange creamsicle, and a pint of caramel biscuit and cream before getting the stuff to make the buns for your brother.

As you set them all down on your counter your phone pings off.

‘He can come tomorrow morning at 9, I’ll come with him. He’s a good guy though, don’t worry.’

You send your brother a thumbs up and then he sends you a photo of the man you suppose is coming to fix your pipes. He’s good looking, his hair is long in the photo, tied back in a low bun but there’s curls on his forehead. Another thing you notice is how massive he is. He’s broad and muscular but in the photo you’re looking at he’s got a warm smile on his face that shows off a dimple.

He looks friendly enough. Maybe tomorrow won’t be so bad.

You try to sleep in your bed, you don’t want your brother to notice that you’re still on the sofa in the morning, but being so far from the door makes your heart clench and you find yourself dragging your blanket out to the sofa that you’re sure by now has your body’s impression.

“Last night,” you say to yourself as you cuddle your pillow and tuck your blankets under your chin.

Your alarm has you groaning. 6:30 is a nice time, but not so nice when you don’t actually have to go into the preschool to teach, but for parent meetings at 11. Rubbing your eyes, you sit up, legs already moving to the kitchen to set the kettle on.

You go through your morning routine and only feel alive when you have a cup of tea and a bite of the last of sourdough toast you’d made last week. Your phone rings and you already know it’s your brother, “Yes I’m awake, dork.” he might be older than you by four years but you’re really close so the teasing is nice.

“Open the door then, and make sure you have on your glasses.” you flip him off over the phone but walk across the floor, glasses on, to unlock the door.

“Where’s your key?” you ask as you open the door, finding your brother holding two brown paper bags and the man in the photo standing next to him in grimy coveralls.

“I hooked it on the look of my pants, James was being prudish about touching me.”

“I wasn’t,” the beefy man starts, jingling his toolkits as an answer. His voice is nice, deep, cherry and his drawl is a little slow, but still very pleasant.

“Come in,” you step to the side and open the door wider. “Don’t worry about him, he just likes people touching him.” your brother scowls but doesn’t deny it.

“Don’t laugh when you see it, this one already did. I know it’s bad.” you say nervously as James sets down his stuff.

“S’fine, can’t be much worse than some of the other stuff I’ve seen.”

“Come eat, I got you that breakfast cake thing you like.” your brother sets the box before you, sliding over your cup of tea and a bottle of orange juice.

“Did you eat?” you eye him as you sit on the island.

“Shanice made eggs and toast.” you love your future sister-in-law, but the mention of her in the kitchen has enough merit to make your stomach roll in discomfort and your body to produce a gag.

“There’s chicken salad in the fridge and the bread’s there too,” you turn to James, “Do you want anything to eat, James? There’s vegan stuff in the fridge too if you don’t eat meat.”

Your brother rolls his eyes, “He could eat an entire chicken if he really wanted to.” You’re positive there’s a small blush on James’ face. He’s even prettier in person and you’re really trying not to stare.

His hair is tied back like it was in the photo, inky curly spirals slipping out around his ears and the nape of his neck. His eyes are a shade of brown that reminds you of sand- dark but flecked with lighter hues; he’s captivating.

He’s almost as wide as your fridge and his arms are huge, but he looks soft, even with all the corded muscles. You will your eyes not to linger on his hands.

Your brother makes himself a triple sandwich and takes one of your iced teas.

“I’m alright,” he eyes your cup of tea, “I could do with a cuppa though.” you nod and set the kettle on.

“One sugar or two?” He holds up a single finger before opening the cupboards. He hisses and you suppose that’s better than the laugh that bursts from your brother.

“S’not that bad,” you can tell he’s being extra nice when he sees the embarrassed look on your face, “I’ll have to change all the pipes though. Whoever installed these ones used really thin PVC so under the heat it crumpled.” James stands and accepts the tea from the dainty mug without a complaint.

“Will it be super expensive?” you ask, and your brother flicks your forehead. “What? You know I can’t afford many more swings right now.” You only feel a twinge of embarrassed heat licking at your neck as you look between James and Michael.

“You’re such an idiot, I’ll go half with you.” He says and you nod, giving him your best smile but your brother draws the line when you try to hug him.

“It won’t be, but I can’t do it today. The better pipes have to be ordered in, but they only take like a day to get here.” James explains and you nod.

“That’s fine, I’ve got most of my stuff already cooked so there won’t be much dishwashing.” James finishes the tea and pulls out a pen and paper from his bag. “Here’s my number, you can text me in like two days about it if I don’t call Michael first.”

You nod again, thanking him as he gathers all his stuff and moves for the door. Your brother waves him away and then turns to you, frowning.

“You still sleeping on the sofa?” It’s then that you realise you hadn’t put your blanket or your pillow away and scowl.

“I can’t sleep in the bed, my mind just runs wild.” you say as you finish your tea and cake. “I’ve been trying though.”

The door shuts and you realise James has probably heard what you’ve said. Your mouth can’t seem to not run away from you when he’s around.

You brush the slight shame away with the semi-reassuring thought that ���at least he doesn’t know why a grown woman can’t sleep in her own bed,’ it doesn’t last long, but it mellows the initial sting.

Michael ruffles your hair and you shrug, “It’ll just take some time,” he says softly, “Want me to get a security system?” You shake your head at that.

“You’re already going half and half with me on this, and you paid for my groceries for like three weeks. I’ll be okay.”

Your brother doesn’t look convinced, but he can’t argue with you because his phone rings.

“Work, I gotta go, but think about it okay? Shanice won’t mind either,” you nod but you both know you won’t be thinking about anything.

“Have a good day at work, I’ll bake those buns the second the sink’s all good.”

-

You’re coming back from work the next day when your phone rings, an unknown number. You frown and then realise it might be James.

“Hello?”

“Hi, angel. This is James,” he says, like you’ve forgotten his name over the last twenty four hours.

“Hi James, is everything okay?” you ask, shoving a couple folders into your bag from the passenger seat of your car.

“Yeah, was calling about the pipes. I’ve just picked them up and I’m near-by. Would you mind at all if I came to install them today?”

You stick the key in the ignition, “I wouldn’t mind, but I’m about twenty minutes from my house, would you wait?”

You really hope he can, you want this problem resolved as soon as possible.

“I can, angel. Don’t sweat it,” he says before he hangs up. You do a happy shimmy in your seat before pulling out of the school’s parking lot.

Next, you call Michael.

“James is coming over to fix the pipes today, just in case you know, I go missing or something.”

Your brother laughs, “He’s a sweetheart. Maybe stop listening to your crime podcasts, you’re getting even more morbid.”

“Oh whatever, I’ll stop by tomorrow with the buns.”

“Make sure you get some sleep,”

“Yeah yeah, I’m going now.”

James is in his car when you pull up, a bronco that looks very well kept. “Sorry for the wait,” you say as you unlock your door.

“S’fine, had enough time to have a late lunch.”

You check your watch, “It’s almost four James, that’s more like an early dinner.”

The man lifts his shoulder and drops it with a smile, “It’s been one of those days.”

“Do you want a cup of tea or iced tea?” you ask as you open your fridge. “I should warn you though, they’re addictive.”

“What flavour iced tea do you have?” you smile, James might be someone else you get hooked on them.

“Peach, hibiscus and I think I see one last cucumber melon.”

“Which is your favourite?”

“Peach! It’s not really that sweet though, but if you like it super sweet maybe hibiscus would be better.”

James smiles at the way you ramble as he opens up his toolkit and then the pipes.

“I’ll take the peach angel,” you pass him the glass bottle after tipping it upside down. James takes a long sip and sighs, “That’s good.” you nod and then move to take out a bowl of rice and chicken.

“Do you need me to get anything? To help?” you ask and James shakes his head.

“Not right now,” you think about going to eat before asking,

“Can I watch? Just to know what you’re doing?” then you back track as James doesn’t say anything.

“Not because I don’t trust you to do it well, I just like knowing. Like with my door, I learned how to put it up when I had to change it,” you realise you’re rambling when James smiles and his dimple is visible through his stubble.

“You can watch angel, you can hand me the tools I’ll need.”

You and James make a good team- you’d been nervous at first and then when James was so close you could smell his coconutty cologne you felt your head go a little light but almost two hours later, your pipes were changed.

“Moment of truth is if the water goes down,” you say as you stand, knees cracking in the process.

James nods, “You’re not a bad assistant, if you ever change professions I’ll put in a good word for you.”

You beam at that before opening up the tap and letting the water flow. Not even a drop of it pools in the sink and your heart feels like a feather floating away in the breeze.

“You did it!” you turn to James with a pleased smile and he blushes. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaim and he chuckles, already packing up his toolkit.

“You’re welcome angel, Michael already paid by the way.”

You shake your head at your brother’s actions, but you can’t find it in you to be upset, not when your sink is fixed. “Can I entice you to have dinner then? I’ll feel bad if you just go,” you tack on when James doesn’t answer. “I’ve got pizza or taco bowls.” you sing-song and that breaks him.

“What kind of pizza?”

It’s how James ends up on your sofa, overalls hanging off his hips, revealing a dark red compression shirt as he holds his plate.

Your blanket is still on the sofa, but you shove it to the armchair.

“Wanna watch anything specific? I’m going through Christmas movies right now,” James’ eyes are wide at your confession.

“It’s the middle of August,” you nod and bite your bar-b-que chicken pizza.

“I’m making a short list of Christmas movies for this Christmas. Last three years in a row I did one.”

James grins, “So I take it you like the season.”

You nod, “If you ask Michael, he’d tell you I was obsessed with it,” you shrug, setting down the slice of pizza.

“When we were kids, I used to go crazy about it. Write letters to Santa with our address and mail it, play Christmas songs all through the month and I was a little excessive with the decorations- especially when I started working and could buy the ones I wanted. It just always feels like a good time- eternal joy and hope and all that jazz I guess.”

James looks around your house now and finds a few trinkets in the space and for a moment he can imagine it decked out for Christmas. “I can see it,” he groans as he takes a bite. “That’s delicious, angel.”

Your face gets hot under the compliment and you give James a small smile.

“What are you watching now?” he asks, taking another bite.

“The Holiday,” you search for the remote and find the movie. “It makes the shortlist every year, but it’s so good.”

James and you watch the remaining forty five minutes, and he nudges your shoulder during the sad parts so you don’t let the tears in your eyes fall.

“Do you think people rent that cottage?” He asks you and you frown.

“I dunno, but if it’s for rent it’ll be so nice! It’s so cosy looking.”

James doesn’t point out that your house looks just as cosy. It reminds him of the houses you see in magazines- not the boring ones that’s all one colour and minimalistic, but the ones that seem to be alive with colour and things.

He’s sure they all serve a purpose- the small statues in one corner near your window, the coasters that look like flowers, it all seems to complement you and your home and James thinks to himself, ‘this is what a home should be.’

He stretches as he stands and you do as well, reaching for his plate that he doesn’t give. Instead he takes your own and walks to the kitchen.

“You’re a guest, guests don’t do the dishes.” you try to get your plate back but it’s no use, James is already washing them and stacking them in the draining board.

“Thanks for dinner angel,” he picks up his toolkit and the bucket of parts that need to be tossed out.

“You’re welcome, thanks for fixing my pipes.”

James waves it off, “I’d say we should do this again sometime, but changing your pipes so frequently isn’t ideal.”

It isn’t till after you hear the innuendo in his words. You do laugh a little in the moment, so James counts it as a win. Your laugh reminds him of that fairy in the show his niece loves- a sweet tinkering, bell-like sound that makes him smile.

“It was nice though. You’re good company.”

You walk James to the door, “Make sure and lock up,” he says kindly and you nod.

You notice that you don’t hear his boots don’t move till he hears the locks click and your heart flutters stupidly at the action.

You can’t like him already, you barely know him. A voice in the back of your head says, “But he’s already so dreamy,” you’re very inclined to agree.

-

You’d thought that would’ve been the last time you saw James too, but three weeks later, he’s at your brother’s house for his summer party and you’re fucked all over again.

He’s not a bad sight to be greeted with, arms exposed in his black tank top and his thighs. They’re thick and you can see the outline of muscle on them, even from far away. There’s a couple smattering of tattoos that peak from the hem of his shorts and you have to stop yourself from drooling.

He’s laughing at something Shanice is telling him, and he looks even more gorgeous.

It should be illegal, you think to yourself, for the man to look that effortlessly beautiful.

“You made it!” Michael says, handing you the drink in his hand before gesturing for you to follow him.

“You said if I didn’t come you’d have called me non-stop. I love you, but that’s annoying.” Michael leads you over to his fiance and James. You hug Shanice and wave politely at James.

Conversation is easy, and James hopes he’s being discrete as his gaze falls to you a little longer than necessary. You catch him once, and the look in his eyes confuses you just a little.

You don’t think badly of yourself, but you’re just in a pair of jean shorts and the top of your bikini- a pretty pink colour, after you’d read an article about lifeguards having a hard time spotting people in pools and the ocean if they had on blues and greens- is exposed by your lack of shirt.

In any case, you didn’t think it was cause for his stares to linger and look so… primal if that was even the right word.

Michael says, “James, do you know any good alarm systems?” as you sip your peach iced tea and vodka. You elbow your brother as James nods.

“There’s a few out there that I’d recommend, why?”

“Don’t,” you murmur to Michael who ignores you entirely.

Your brother doesn’t hesitate as he says, “Someone broke into her house a couple weeks ago and she hasn’t been able to sleep in her room since.”

“Yeah, just talk about me like I’m invisible,” you mutter and James feels anger and fury for you fester in his chest. It blooms rapidly and takes him by surprise.

“You’re not invisible, you’re just a hard head.” your brother says, James is inclined to agree as well- especially after the portion of the conversation he had overheard that first day you met.

“I can stop by the hardware tomorrow if you want, should have some of the ones I usually recommend.”

Your brother smirks and you feel shame and something you can’t yet name balloon your belly.

“Thank you, James,” you say as you finish off your vodka iced tea, already feeling for another one.

As the food comes out, you help yourself; ensuring to avoid James’ gaze because over the last couple weeks he’s seemed to come to know a lot of the bad things about your life. You pile watermelon and pineapple on one side of your plate before picking some fries and a bar-b-que chicken breast. Your hand reaches for a lemonade when a bigger one grabs it.

“I got it angel,” James’ own plate is full too. More meat than fruit but it’s fuel either way so it doesn’t bother you. “Where’re you sitting?”

You point to the seat near the pool.

“You don’t have to be so nice, James. Michael’s mouth is just too big for his own good.”

James rolls his eyes, “I’m not being nice because of him,” he says, taking the seat beside you and handing over your lemonade after cracking the seal. “Or because I fixed your pipes, or anything else.”

You frown as you chomp on a piece of watermelon. “You’re not?”

James shakes his head, digging into his food.

You squint at him and James chuckles, “No, you should feel safe in your house.”

You don’t say anything much after that, overwhelmed by his care- even if you’re stopping yourself from reading too far into it.

“You’re real sweet, James.” you say after a while, spearing a look at him to find his eyes already on you; that same kind of hungry look in his eyes like earlier.

“Yeah?” he hums and for a moment you want him to kiss you. You want to feel the press and the heat of his lips on yours, then you catch the thought. You hardly know him. But you want him and him coming over to install the security system might not go as smoothly as the plumbing had gone. You find you wouldn’t mind if James does something other than install the alarm system.

“Yeah.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

Always Time for You

Requested Here!

Pairing: David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

Summary: After you move to Los Angeles to escape an abusive relationship, you meet Deacon Kay and fall in love. When your ex arrives in Los Angeles, you have to tell someone, but don't want to worry Deacon.

Warnings: former abusive relationship, depictions of domestic violence, abuse, angst, fluff and comfort (none of the SWAT men do anything abusive, it's an ex!)

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Kay Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

The trip across the country is long and slow, each day spent holding your bruised cheek out of view and looking over your shoulder. You promise not to let your guard down when you finally reach Los Angeles. Surrounded by high rises and over 4 million people to blend in with, it would be easy to think you’re safe. But you know better.

Your little apartment in a quiet corner miles from downtown is nice, if not lonely. As you create a new life, you’re unbothered by the solitude, too concerned with being safe than having friends.

And then, in a moment, all of it changes.

1 Year Later

“Excuse me,” someone says behind you.

You flinch when a gloved hand raises beside you, then step out of the way and apologize to the officer. He nods once, then joins his team on the other side of the road. The police presence in your neighborhood today is too familiar. The last time you saw this many cops in one place. It was because you called them, and they barely made it in time.

Another approaching siren pulls you from your memory, and you step back from the curb. Something stops you, a feeling that going home would not be the right choice.

One of the SWAT officers looks at you and points in your direction. You freeze, remembering the officer who asked Well, did you tell him to stop? You provoked him; you shouldn’t do that if you already know what he’s like. When you look up again, two officers are walking toward you. Chewing the inside of your bottom lip, you hope they’ll walk past you.

“Hi, I’m Sergeant Deacon Kay, LAPD SWAT,” the officer who walked past you earlier says. “Do you live around here?”

“I do,” you answer softly.

“Would you mind answering a few questions?” the other officer, whose nametag says Street, asks.

“Sure,” you agree. “If I can.”

Deacon pulls a picture from his pocket, a folded piece of paper that he straightens before asking, “Have you seen this car around here?”

You lean closer, fighting against your memories, and answer, “I saw it last night. It sat across the street with its lights on from around 8 until midnight.”

“What made you notice it?” Street asks.

“The lights,” you explain. “When it turned, they lit up my living room, then didn’t go off.”

“Left around midnight, you said?” Deacon clarifies. You nod, and he points east to ask, “That way?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Thanks for your help.”

They step back, and you ask, “Um, is it safe? Will he be back or is there anything I should be worried about?”

Deacon smiles and assures, “It’s safe. We’re going to get him.”

As he joins Street to return to Black Betty, Street asks, “We don’t know that; we’ve been looking for two days.”

“And we’ll find him today.”

The next night, someone knocks on your door, and you tiptoe across the room to look through the peephole. When you see Sergeant Deacon Kay, you open the door but hold it as you look at him.

“Hi,” he greets. “I just wanted to let you know we caught him.”

You sigh and whisper your gratitude.

“And… I came to ask you out.”

Smiling, you nod, and for once, you don’t think about your last relationship and let yourself hope for something new, something better.

1 Year Later

“Good morning,” you greet as you answer the phone.

“It is now,” Deacon replies. “How are you?”

“I’m better now.”

You open the door to leave for work but stop when you see a package on your doormat. Deacon says something, but the words across the top of the box are familiar, too familiar. You squat to see it better; the We’re back note is split by the box pulling open. You lift the flap with one finger and see a rope curled tightly inside, with two knots to form hand restraints. You jerk backward, falling onto the floor as you scramble from the box. Your phone hits the floor, and Deacon yells as you reach for it.

“Hey,” you breathe, staring at the box. “I’m okay, sorry, I got startled and dropped my phone.”

“Everything okay?” Deacon asks.

“Yes,” you lie. “Everything is fine.”

“Then I’ll see you tonight. Have a good day.”

“You, too.”

When you reach your car, a pack of matches is tucked under the windshield wipers, and you throw them into the backseat before slamming the door closed and locking it. Someone is close, and the fear you thought you’d left behind hits you like a train when you realize who it is.

Deacon knocks on your door an hour before your date, but he’s still in his uniform.

“I’m so sorry,” he begins. “I have to work overtime, for- for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll have time to make it up to you, but I will. I promise I will.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him. “Be safe and call me when you can.”

Deacon leans in, ignorant of how your muscles tense before he touches you. He kisses your cheek, whispers another apology, and leaves. As he drives away, you see a knife tucked behind the plant by your door. Rather than spend the extra time with the door open to look at it, you close and lock it. Your breaths grow heavy as your chest tightens, but you have no proof that he’s nearby. You can’t tell the police, and Deacon will get stressed with overtime, so you have to wait for this to pass on its own.

The following week, almost ten days after the first box arrived, you call in sick to work. Sitting in your living room, you watch the front window. You can see your porch and car. By noon, you haven’t seen anyone. Slowly, you open the door, and there’s a boxing glove on the first step, with what looks like dried blood across where the wearer’s knuckles would be. You feel a pressure building in your eyes and know that the terror you experience will kill you from the inside if you don’t tell someone or do something.

“Where are you?” you whisper brokenly, looking across the street but seeing nothing.

Your car catches your attention, a baseball bat propped against the back door, and a spray-painted X marking your door. You know the paint will draw attention, so you find a sponge and car wash in your storage closet before you hesitate at the door. If he was close enough to do this without being seen, he’s close enough to do something to you.

You set the cleaning supplies down and take your phone from your pocket. Scrolling past Deacon’s contact, you text someone else and then sit by the door, staring out the window as you wait for him to arrive.

“Whoa, what’s going on?” Luca asks when he sees your blotchy cheeks and blood on your palms, crescent-shaped marks created by digging your nails into your palm.

“He’s here,” you confide in him, struggling to breathe evenly. “Luca, he’s so close.”

“Who?” Luca asks, taking your wrists and looking into your eyes. “Who is he?”

“My ex, he- he hurt me, Luca, and  now he’s here. There’s been knives, matches, rope… he keeps leaving stuff he used to use.”

“Use?” Luca repeats, his voice dropping. “To… to hurt you?”

You nod, then press against his forearms to plead, “You can’t tell Deacon. He’s so stressed with the overtime; I haven’t even talked to him in a week.”

“He needs to know.”

“No, no, Luca, promise that you won’t tell him. I’ll tell you if anything changes or if I actually see him, but I had to tell somebody.”

Luca hesitates, then nods. “Have you seen anything?”

“No,” you admit, dropping your head as a tear rolls over your cheek. “Just the stuff. And the notes… they sound like him, but they don’t look like his handwriting. What am I supposed to do, Luca?”

Luca shakes his head and pulls you into a hug. It’s not the same comfort you can get from Deacon. The realization that you can’t do anything until he’s close enough to see increases your terror to let you finally cry.

Three days after confiding in Luca and thanking him with dinner for cleaning your car, you decide to visit Deacon at the station. You must see him, so you steel your nerves and open the front door. A small pile of weapons and notes is built against your door, and it topples as you step out. You rush to your car and don’t take the time to remove anything from the windshield until you stop at a gas station a block from the station. Shoving the notes, matches, and short length of heavy chain into the trashcan without more than a glance, you hope that Deacon has time to talk. You won’t tell him anything, but you will ask for one of his hugs that make everything better.

As you round your trunk, a truck speeds in behind you. Suddenly, your arms are gripped tightly, and someone pulls you back quickly. Someone else pulls black fabric over your head, and you are shoved into the back of a car before you can think to scream.

“Not a word,” a man says, pushing a cold gun barrel against your ribs.

“We’ll do it,” Deacon offers. “Luca and I can drive by the residence in an unmarked car and bring back a report of what we can see.”

“Do it,” Hicks replies. “Go the long way around, check gas stations and restaurants in the area, too. We need to find her.”

Deacon leads Luca to his unmarked Charger, and Deacon takes the driver’s seat. As they drive toward the suspect’s residence, Deacon stops at a red light beside a gas station.

“Isn’t that your girlfriend’s car?” Luca asks, pointing to a gas pump.

Deacon’s brow furrows as he puts the car into reverse and backs into the station lot. He parks behind your vehicle, and he and Luca walk alongside it, then look over the top at each other.

“I’ll check inside,” Luca offers as Deacon dials your number.

“Thanks,” Deacon replies.

Your phone goes to voicemail, and Deacon looks down in time to see the screen light up in the center console. Luca runs out of the convenience store and calls, “Deac, get in here!”

Deacon runs into the store, and Luca asks the employee to play the security footage again. They watch as three men take you, and Luca takes a shaky breath before he says, “Deacon, there’s something you should know.”

“Time to go home,” one of the men in the car coos.

You stiffen, scared that by home he means they’ll hand you over to your ex. The car lurches to a stop, and you slam into the back of the seat before two sets of hands steady you.

“Well, look who it is.”

Shifting, you try to block out your ex’s voice, but knowing he can see you while you can’t see him makes your heart race and your chest tighten painfully. When he slips his hand under your fabric hood and runs his fingers along your jaw, you jerk backward. The man beside you shoves you forward so your hood can be ripped off.

“Don’t do that again,” your ex demands lowly, holding your jaw tightly.

You look around, hoping to see someone else around who can help you.

“You know the police couldn’t help before.”

“We did what you asked,” the man driving says.

“And? You’ll get paid when I pay you.”

With the distraction, you lean away from your ex. He slides his fingers into your hair when he notices the distance, pulling you forward by the roots. You gasp at the pain, but when you’re shoved out of the car and fall at his feet, suddenly, you’re the same scared girl you were before you ran. There is no escape, and no one knows to look for you.

“Gas pedal is on the right, Street!” Deacon yells from the backseat.

“We’ll get there,” Street promises, remaining patient even as he faces Deacon’s anger and fear. “We need the surprise.”

Deacon’s leg bounces as they approach the tradeoff spot in the note they found from your ex to the men who snatched you at the gas station. Your safety is the priority, but Deacon knows Hondo is worried about what he’ll do to your ex.

“I’m getting her out of there,” Deacon says. “You focus on the criminals stupid enough to email each other with their plans.”

“You got it,” Hondo responds. “Stay liquid.”

As they pull into the parking lot, Street parks by a fence where they can see the black SUV from the gas station and a grey Chevelle beside it. Street exits the driver’s seat in his civilian clothes and waves to the man standing at the back of the SUV.

“Hey, man! I’m trying to get to the road with the stars, uh, Walk of Fame or something? This city is so confusing, can you tell me where to go?” Street calls.

“Yeah,” the man replies, turning so Street can see him. “Away from here.”

Someone groans, and Street says, “Yeah, sure. You okay?”

“Better than you’ll be if you don’t go.”

Street puts his hands up, then smiles. “You’re not very observant.”

Luca and Hondo approach the car from the other side with their guns raised. As they yell commands, three men surrender and move to the side, but your ex remains beside you.

“Step back,” Street demands, moving directly behind him. “These guys have a bet going on how quickly I’ll get impatient today. I’m thinking about letting one of them win. Walk toward my voice.”

“You always were treated like you’re more important than you are,” your ex tells you. “Same cop,” he muses, looking at Luca. “No one wants you.”

“Yep, I’m impatient,” Street decides. He holsters his gun, grabs his collar, and hauls him backward.

As your ex hits the concrete, he begins fighting, so Street drags him across the rocky surface while Deacon rushes to your side. You hear Hondo radioing for backup but focus on Deacon as he kneels beside you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod and sit up carefully. Leaning against Deacon, you hug him tightly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Deacon asks softly, brushing his thumb over a bruise on your jaw.

“You were already working overtime, and honestly… I thought I was going crazy,” you admit. “He was leaving stuff and notes, but I never saw him, so I didn’t know.”

“Babe, I always have time for you,” Deacon assures you. He kisses your forehead and adds, “Especially if you���re in danger.”

“He… I moved to LA because of him,” you whisper. “He hurt me. A lot.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that you had to deal with all of this alone, but you can tell me. Please tell me.”

“I will,” you promise. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“I love you.”

“I love you. I miss you.”

“I’m done with overtime; I’m coming home with you.”

You don’t argue, giving in to your craving for Deacon’s safety and comfort. He’ll always be with you, have time for you, and love you through everything and with all of your scars.

[hellfireloserclub]

It was almost 10 pm, and Steve was at the point where if one more, sappy, loved-up couple came wandering through the door of family video looking for a tape for their valentines date night, (that would promptly get forgotten about as they fucked on the sofa in the sea of rose petals or whatever…), he was going to pull out the nail bat and start swinging.

Old him? He had loved all that flashy paper heart and sugar-sweet fakeness, but the new improved Steve? He was looking forward to the six-pack in the fridge and his hot date with Harrison Ford. Alone, locked away from the whole whatever of the situation. 

Steve tried not to feel betrayed because Robin had abandoned him for Nancy. He couldn't ever hate her for that, not after how long it took them to get together. 

But his late shift would have been a lot better if he had his co-workers by his side, yet Eddie and Robbin had abandoned him.

It was just depressing that even Eddie, the one person who said yes to almost everything, had left him to wallow in his own self-pity.

But adventure awaited, and no matter how much Steve had begged him to help cover Robin's dropped shift, Eddie had been firm about it. ' Wednesday night is Campaign night. Do you want to disappoint the gremlins?' 

No amount of Steve pointing out that the gaggle of seventeen-year-olds probably had other plans on Valentine's night that he really didn't want to think about could convince him to change his mind. (Steve had thought about it, and he had made sure they were always safe. He was, after all, always the babysitter, but they were his kids… they DIDN'T do that sort of stuff! He was half a step from Hopper’s general reaction these days, sticking his fingers in his ears when they made inappropriate jokes; they were just toddlers for Christ's sake) 

Not that he wanted to spend valentine's day with Eddie (he did) or that he was secretly wondering if Eddie had a date, (he was) because he had seen Max and Lucas drive past not an hour ago and they were very much not in the basement of Munson’s house playing with dice right now. (Had Eddie lied to him? Had he forgotten the number one rule of the party? Friends don’t lie? What if Eddie had a date? Why did that thought make Steve’s stomach feel as if he had just eaten some of Robin’s more questionable cooking?) 

The end of the shift couldn’t come soon enough and when he finally flipped the sign to closed at 10.30 pm, it tempted him to just leave the tidying for Robin or Eddie to do in the morning. 

It would serve them right for making him witness the absolute horror of other people's public displays of affection.

However, as he brushed the floors and chewed on the leftover promotional chocolates, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander again. Where was Eddie? Did he have some secret other-half that he was hiding from them all? If so, it wasn’t like Eddie to not be open about things like that, at least around the party he was unapologetically himself. Was it another man? Was that why he was being so secretive about it? Steve doubted it was that either, Eddie didn’t hide that part of himself either.

 ‘Were both Bisexual disasters? That’s why we couldn’t be friends in high school, Harrington. We would have seduced the entirety of Hawkins high, it wouldn’t have helped the devil worship allegations, but man, it would have been fun.’

And sure, maybe Steve had been funny with the last few people that Eddie had backed into corners after gigs, but it was just because they weren’t good enough for his Eddie. He was just being a good wingman. Eddie would, and had, done the same for him frequently. It was nothing. They were just protective of each other, that was all… (keep telling yourself that, king Steve). It just made no sense that Eddie would hide things like this from him. 

Steve was just putting the broom back in the closet when he heard the bell over the door go. 

“We’re closed.” Of course, someone would come in now. The people of Hawkins really needed to learn to read, but if you could ignore a multidimensional rift for several years, a closed sign might be a little advanced.

Nobody answered, but he thought he heard the bell go again. He really should start locking the door, especially when his hearing was as bad as it was.

Walking back into the front shop Steve almost jumped a mile.

“Jesus, Eddie! You know better than to sneak up!” Eddie stood in the open hatchway of the service counter, shifting uneasily from foot to foot, but at least looking apologetic. 

“I shouted, but you know” he gestured vaguely toward his ears with one hand, his other holding something behind his back “I'm guessing you were facing away…”

“I was in the closet,” Eddie's eyebrows raised. “Do not make the low-hanging joke, Munson. You're better than that.” 

“Oh come on Steve, it’s just there. Give me the win.” he chuckled nervously.

“Why? Did you strike out on your date?” Steve aimed for joking and missed, hoping that Eddie hadn’t picked up on the bitterness in his voice, he went about pulling the last of the novelty candy off the counter into a box behind it for Robin to graze on in the morning.

Eddie looked at him curiously. “I’m hoping I don’t.”

“Oh? So you did have a date then? I knew it was suspicious Lucas and Max drove past before. You know you didn’t have to lie, right? I would have given you the night off.” that feeling in his chest grabbed and tugged, it was almost painful.

“I need to kick both of their asses, but no Steve, I said I’m hoping I don’t…” Eddie stepped closer to him. “You know, like, future tense, you see I haven’t had the date yet? So I guess what I’m saying is no, I didn’t strike out, not yet at least.” his voice lacked its usual confidence, so unlike Eddie that it made Steve pause.

“So, why are you here, if you have a hot date?” Steve knew that this time he hadn’t kept his voice steady. He was jealous, and he knew it. And by the expression on Eddie’s face, he really hadn’t hidden it at all. 

“Well, I missed an important bit of my master plan. I forgot to do something.”

“Oh, yeah?” suddenly the scuff marks on the floor left by Robin’s Converse were the most fascinating thing he had ever seen.

“Steve, look at me.” Eddie prompted. He had moved closer again, thrusting something into Steve’s line of vision. Gesturing for him to take it.

“Is this broccoli?” Steve was holding what, clearly, was a bushel of broccoli. Eddie was rocking from one foot to the other again at his side, hiding behind his hair in that adorable way that made Steve’s heart speed up of its own accord. His entire face was bright red and, for once, it looked like Eddie was lost for words.

“Eddie, why have you just handed me broccoli?” His confusion outweighed Steve’s jealous embarrassment. What the hell was happening?

“Be my Valentine? Or whatever? I’m not good at this, I am so not good at this…” 

“Are you serious?”  

“See, I told Rob’s I said you wouldn’t think I was serious if I asked you out on a date on valentines, but she was all ‘who’s his platonic soulmate Ed’s? It’s me, and he loves all this grand romantic bullshit.’ and then I listened to her like an idiot.” Steve watched him pace, hands flying everywhere. “this was a stupid idea. Can we just pretend it never happened?”

Eddie had come to a halt in front of Steve and was making grabbing hands at the Broccoli as if to take it back. 

It just made Steve hold it tighter to his chest. God, he loved this mess of a man. Without thinking, he used his free hand to pull Eddie towards him. 

It just made him hold it tighter to his chest. God, he loved this mess of a man. Without thinking, he used his free hand to pull Eddie towards him. 

“Eddie… shut up.”

Eddie didn’t kiss back at first. Steve had caught him off guard, but soon enough, he was pressing in with gusto, and yeah, that sensation in Steve’s stomach was nothing to do with Robin's cooking. Eddie hadn’t shaved, and his stubble was rough, just as Steve always thought it would be, and he kissed in the same way he did everything else in life, full of energy and over the top. Eddie twisted his hands up into Steve’s hair, and Steve traced his hands up Eddie's neck, making for the mop of hair he had wanted to tangle his hands in since the upside down, even if he hadn’t been sure of the reason back then. 

However, the vegetable in his hand hindered his progress.

“Drop the broccoli Stevie,” Eddie muttered against his lips.

“No, It's my broccoli,” He pulled it back from the kiss, cradling the greenery to his chest. “The broccoli is important, I mean, I don’t understand it, but …”

“It was all they had left in shop, I had planned on this big romantic bunch of flowers, a teddy… the full works, but then Buckley had an emergency… you know what her cooking is like… and then well by the time I escaped it was almost ten on Valentine night and I had to get you something, cause my plan obviously needed it to work, so it was the broccoli or a two-by-four with a smiley face on it courtesy of Joyce, so out of the two I think-”

“Eddie, shut up.” 

“Shutting up.” he mimed zipping his mouth shut as Steve carefully placed the vegetable on the counter. 

“I think a bunch of Broccoli is the most YOU thing ever, you weirdo.” he grabbed Eddie again wrapping his arms around him and pulling him close, placing a small kiss on the end of his nose, Eddie went cross-eyed trying to look at him but grinned none the less. 

“So do I get a win?”

“You get a win.”

And if every year the kids ask Steve why he’s got a bushel of broccoli in a vase on the fireplace on his and Eddie’s anniversary, well, it’s just another win for the man he loves.

(inspired by the old man behind me at the bus stop holding a bushel of broccoli like a bunch of roses because he was too cheap to buy a carrier bag but his wife had demanded he buys broccoli so god damn it he bought the broccoli You go you, stubborn old man. Also, I've written the word broccoli now so many times it no longer looks like a real word.)

( also give me prompts!)

[barleyo]

Take Me to Church.

Priest! Miguel O'Hara X Fem! Reader (smut)

A/N: Hello, my blessings! I hope you all can see what I was going for with this, I mean, Miguel is Catholic. I also hope this doesn't seem rushed! I'm not very well versed in religion, so I hope none of this comes off as blasphemous or disrespectful. Much love to all of you, and thank you for your continued support!

Wordcount: 3.3K

Tags: Dub-con, loss of virginity, manipulation, p in v, coercion, power dynamic, abuse of power, use of "Father" in a religious way, not an inc*stual way, HEAVY talk of religion (sin, penance, etc.), oral (f receiving), desk fucking, implied age gap

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a devout man, trusting God’s will above anything else, and leading the church to trust just the same. He led them onto a holy path, clear of temptation and sin.

He himself, however, was not free from these temptations. No matter how much he had prayed to clear himself of these thoughts, they still remained. He beseeched God to forgive him for what he had thought, what he had felt. 

Nothing seemed to stop his mind from falling into the gutter, especially not her presence. 

Lord, forgive him for his sins. 

Forgive him for giving into her allurement. 

(Y/N) had knocked on Miguel’s office door. Normally, she would refrain and not impose on his valuable time, but for some time, something had bothered her deeply. Having nobody else to turn to, she came to his door, tail figuratively between her legs. 

“Father O’Hara? May I come in?”

“Yes, my child, do come in,” he said, his voice kind, yet firm. 

She walked in, awkwardly closing the door behind her and standing by the door. 

“Please, sit.” He pointed to a chair across from his desk, and removed his small reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose. He removed the small stack of papers that he had been going through off of his desk, turning his full attention to the woman. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Apologies, I don’t mean to take up any of your time, I can see that you’re busy–”

“Nonsense, child. I am never too busy to give assistance to one in need. So?”

“Right, right.” She took a deep breath, clenching her fists in her lap. She quickly started muttering something under her breath before looking up to meet his eyes. 

He looked at her with his deep, dark eyes, filled with curiosity. Part of her felt that he could see right to her soul, that he knew exactly why she was there. Perhaps he had known the second it started. 

“Come now,” he said, arms crossed over the desk while he looked at her, head slightly tilted, “you are safe here with me. Unburden yourself and your soul, dear girl.” 

“Father, I– I believe that I need to look for forgiveness from God.”

“And why would that be?”

“My mind, Father,” (Y/N) said, chewing on the inside of her cheek, pricking blood from the thin skin.

“Ah, a matter of the mind, is it?” His brows furrowed together, creating a small dimpling near his forehead. Shifting in his chair, Miguel straightened his posture, as if he were preparing himself for what she had to say after the fact. “Care to explain further?”

“They’re bad thoughts, sexual in nature. And, I just feel that,” she paused to swallow a lump in her throat, briefly covering her mouth while she did so, “that they plague me.”

He felt his chest tighten. She felt what he had felt, though, he doubted for the same reason. 

Miguel hummed, clearing his throat quickly. “Is that so? So, you have been having unwanted sexual thoughts?” 

(Y/N) clung onto his words, feeling her face flush when hearing him say it out loud. “Yes, but that isn’t all. I— well, goodness, I’m so embarrassed.” She held her face in one of her hands, looking down at Miguel’s own hands that laid flat on the desk, avoiding his deep gaze.

She felt one of them reach out to lay over one of her hands, even before she could see it happen. Her head tilted up to see his face morph into a look of reassurance. 

“Do not let shame stop you from seeking full forgiveness.” Letting his hand linger for a second longer than he knew was acceptable, he slowly inched it away and continued with a sigh. “Speak only the truth, and allow me to guide you into the comfort of God’s shining light. Go on, now.”

“I have given into these desires.” She hung her head, face contorted into an ashamed look, eyebrows knitted together and mouth in a tight, thin line. She sat and waited for him to respond to her confession, but heard nothing. “Father O’Hara…?”

Miguel felt his face grow warm. Unsure if the tightness he felt in his chest was jealousy or judgment, he simply kept quiet, thinking over the woman’s words. 

Finally, he spoke, with a slight cracking in his voice, straining out of his throat. “With a man?” he asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.

“No–! No, Father, no, certainly not,” she rushed, trying to clear her name as quickly as possible. “Certainly not, no. It’s not that.”

“Then what have you done?” His heartbeat slowed once more, feeling a bit relieved. 

“It was only once, maybe twice, that I’ve done it– touched myself with these thoughts in mind.” (Y/N) absentmindedly rubbed at her temples while she spoke.

He felt a pang of guilt strike his chest as his pants tightened slightly. He knew it was wrong, he shouldn’t have been excited over this, but how could he control himself? 

“It’s perverse and explicit, I cannot go into detail, for my own sake, but just know that my actions have haunted me since, and I just don’t know what to do. Father, I need your help.”

She was weak in her flesh and desire, it would be easy to prey on her, to fulfill his own desires. She was malleable under his guidance, and he knew it. Miguel also knew that what he felt was wrong, but it did not stop him from hesitating to answer her plea, mulling over what to do with his influence. His heart and mind were fighting, passion and righteousness in an entanglement he wasn’t sure his body could host much longer. 

“Your sins will be forgiven, as they always will be,” he said, “but you must reach out to God to fight against the base desires that you have given into. We all sin, do we not?” 

“We do, yes,” (Y/N) answered, lips coated in shiny spit from her incessant chewing and biting as she tried to keep herself grounded.

Miguel felt his eyes dip to her lips, the clear sheen of saliva practically sparkling in the low light of his office.

“Right, well,” he shook himself out of it, “we all sin, and God makes no exceptions. As long as you seek out his light, his light will shine on you, and you will be forgiven, my dear. Believe in that, and believe in the love God has for you.”

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a man of God. He served God, and only God. He should not think these things, he knew better. 

Why couldn’t he keep his mind off of her? Why couldn't he be the holy, resilient man he knew he needed to be?

The second she left his office that day, he could not stop himself. His mind raced while he imagined what she was doing on her evenings alone. It drove him crazy. Had she gone back on what she promised? Was she sinning again, hands between her legs, panties to her knees, wanton moans escaping her spit-soaked, puffy lips?

He thought he was stronger than this, and yet there he was, praying to God for the strength to fight against his urges, urges he had for that sinful, tempting woman. A woman who returned the next week with the same problem.

“I must say, my dear, I am extremely disappointed in you,” he said, standing behind her chair, leaning down to her ear. 

He was a hypocrite, and he knew it. He was a sinner, a filthy sinner, and he knew it.

“Father, I–”

“Quiet down.” He placed his finger over her lip, silencing her while he continued. “You have forgotten my words. You trail out of God’s light, do you refuse forgiveness? Do you enjoy this sin?”

“No, Father O’Hara. I’m sorry,” (Y/N) choked a sob back. She felt her tears stream down her face faster than she could wipe them off. 

“Penance, I’m afraid, is not a fitting punishment, dear girl. God has not turned away from you, and he never will, but,” he whispered, placing his hand under her chin and forcing him to look at him from her chair, “you must pay for what you have done. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” she sniffed deeply. “What must I do?”

“Do not worry about that, I shall show you. Here,” he stood up straight and tapped on his desk, “sit here.”

(Y/N) followed his directions and sat facing him. “I don’t understand, what will this do?”

Miguel didn’t answer her, instead slotting himself between her legs, kneeling before her and looking up to her through hooded eyes. He pried her legs apart with his hands, pushed her skirt upwards, and leaned in, exhaling against her clothed cunt. 

“Look at that,” he nudged the wet patch on the front of her panties. “Is this what your thoughts are about?” he asked, eyes still focused on her heat. “Hm?”

“N-no, no that would be wrong!” She tried to close to her legs, but her hands held them forcefully apart.

“Do not lie in the house of God, my child,” he said flatly.

“This– this is wrong–!” She interrupted her own sentence with a small moan as she felt him lick a stripe of the fabric of her panties.

“There is nothing wrong with me absolving you of your sin, that’s all I am doing. I shall let your sin travel from inside of you to the outside. Do you not want to be free of your evil thoughts?”

A look of confliction flashed on her face. “But we aren’t married, isn’t this sinful in itself?”

“God commands me to take no wife, we are both free from that. It is my duty to guide your soul onto a holy path, won’t you let me do that?” Miguel slipped her panties down to her ankles, waiting for her to answer him.

“Father… please, just please— help me,” (Y/N) said, eyes darting away from him, shame creeping all over her body. 

Miguel O’Hara was the leader of his local congregation. He was a man of God. He served God, and only God. He should not think these things, he knew better. 

Why couldn’t he keep his mind off of her? Why couldn't he be the holy, resilient man he knew he needed to be?

The second she left his office that day, he could not stop himself. His mind raced while he imagined what she was doing on her evenings alone. It drove him crazy. Had she gone back on what she promised? Was she sinning again, hands between her legs, panties to her knees, wanton moans escaping her spit-soaked, puffy lips?

He thought he was stronger than this, and yet there he was, praying to God for the strength to fight against his urges, urges he had for that sinful, tempting woman. A woman who returned the next week with the same problem.

“I must say, my dear, I am extremely disappointed in you,” he said, standing behind her chair, leaning down to her ear. 

He was a hypocrite, and he knew it. He was a sinner, a filthy sinner, and he knew it.

“Father, I–”

“Quiet down.” He placed his finger over her lip, silencing her while he continued. “You have forgotten my words. You trail out of God’s light, do you refuse forgiveness? Do you enjoy this sin?”

“No, Father O’Hara. I’m sorry,” (Y/N) choked a sob back. She felt her tears stream down her face faster than she could wipe them off. 

“Penance, I’m afraid, is not a fitting punishment, dear girl. God has not turned away from you, and he never will, but,” he whispered, placing his hand under her chin and forcing her to look at him from her chair, “you must pay for what you have done. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes, I know,” she sniffed deeply. “What must I do?”

“Do not worry about that, I shall show you. Here,” he stood up straight and tapped on his desk, “sit here.”

(Y/N) followed his directions and sat facing him. “I don’t understand, what will this do?”

Miguel didn’t answer her, instead slotting himself between her legs, kneeling before her and looking up to her through hooded eyes. He pried her legs apart with his hands, pushed her skirt upwards, and leaned in, exhaling against her clothed cunt. 

“Look at that,” he nudged the wet patch on the front of her panties. “Is this what your thoughts are about?” he asked, eyes still focused on her heat. “Hm?”

“N-no, no that would be wrong!” She tried to close to her legs, but his hands held them forcefully apart.

“Do not lie in the house of God, my child,” he said flatly.

“This– this is wrong–!” She interrupted her own sentence with a small moan as she felt him lick a stripe of the fabric of her panties.

“There is nothing wrong with me absolving you of your sin, that’s all I am doing. I shall let your sin travel from inside of you to the outside. Do you not want to be free of your evil thoughts?”

A look of confliction flashed on her face. “But we aren’t married, isn’t this sinful in itself?”

“God commands me to take no wife, we are both free from that. It is my duty to guide your soul onto a holy path, won’t you let me do that?” Miguel slipped her panties down to her ankles, waiting for her to answer him.

“Father… please, just please— help me,” (Y/N) said, eyes darting away from him, shame creeping all over her body. 

A hot, wet feeling placed itself between her thighs. Miguel spread her legs as far as they would go while he delved into her, tongue working through her slick folds. 

“You are already wet, you really were thinking of this, weren't you?” 

He smirked and brought his head back down, placing wet, messy kisses from her inner thigh to her throbbing clit. He honed in on the nub, wrapping his chapped lips around it and swirling it around with his tongue. 

(Y/N) looked down and watched as his brown hair moved back and forth as he lapped at her cunt. Hesitating, she reached her hand out and gripped his hair, holding him in place, and rolling her hips onto his face. Her hips stuttered as she moved, moans catching in her throat. 

“F–Father, it feels– I feel—”

“I know, you are very close.” 

She looked confused, not sure what he meant. “Huh–?”

Miguel pulled her hand out of his hair and pushed her down on the desk, flat with her legs in the air. He spat directly onto her cunt, spreading it with his tongue. He craned his head back and locked eyes with her, replacing his mouth with his fingers, circling her clit quickly with his thumb.

“Do you feel that tightness building up?”

“Yes, make it stop, it feels odd, please. Make it stop,” she said, grabbing onto his wrist while her rubbed her. 

Miguel shushed her, placing his other hand on her thigh. “Just wait, (Y/N).” 

Thumb still focused on her bud, he pushed his tongue into her entrance, feeling her tight walls fight and clench against his prodding. He slurped at her walls and dripping arousal. 

“No, no– I–!”

Her hips involuntarily rolled against his face one final time before she felt the tight coil in her stomach burst. Her thighs squeezed over Miguel’s head and kept him in place as she came, legs shaking and mind blurring. 

(Y/N) let go of his head quickly, sitting up on the desk and pulling away from him. He wiped her slick from his mouth and chin, cleaning his face from the sheen of her cum. 

“Father O’Hara, are you okay? I didn’t mean to do that, I don’t know what came over me…”

“Hush, now. Save your words for what is to come,” he said, standing to his full height. 

He pulled her body back to the edge, pushing her down, flat on her back. Pulling himself out of his pants, he adjusted right at her entrance. Before pushing in, he took hold of both of her hands, holding them above her head. 

“This will hurt. You will bleed, but you must relax. Do you understand?” He saw her nod. “Good girl.”

He pushed into her, slowly inching his tip forward. (Y/N)’s hands clenched, fingers dug into her palms while he painstakingly forced his hips further. 

“Relax,” Miguel whispered as he dipped his head down to be level with her ear, “don’t squeeze so tight, just let me work you open.”

He bottomed out, sliding all of his length into her. 

“No, hurts s’bad, can’t take it ‘nymore!” She whined loudly, tears flowing out of her eyes due to the harsh stretch of his cock.

He was so big, and she was so small. He should have been careful with her, and he should have treated her like the fragile little thing she was.

It only made him fuck her rougher. 

His muscled hips pull out of her, tip barely staying inside.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t take it, I–”

“Yes, you can.”

He snapped into her. His thrust knocked the wind out of her lungs, having her choke on her words. (Y/N)’s hands immediately flew to his clothed shoulders, gripping onto them. To steady herself, she dug further into them, practically ripping the fabric of his shirt. 

The sound of her half-pained, half-pleasured noises send him back to his movements. He starts thrusting, quickly fucking into her heat. 

“You are taking me so well, you sure it’s your first time?” he asks, smirking.

“Yes, Father. I-I’ve never done this before,” she said through gritted teeth, “Dunno if ‘m doin’ it right.”

Miguel grunted and deepened his strokes. “Just let me do it, just gotta– gotta sit there n’ take it.” He allowed himself to kiss the tip of her cervix with his cock’s head, shallowly impacting onto the sensitive spot. 

His hands fall to her hips. He grips onto them and holds her in place, keeping his brutal pace. He eyed the thick, white ring of her arousal forming on the base of his thick length, watching it grow and shift as he pounded into her fluttery walls.

“S’happening again, fix it–! Please, Father,” she felt a strong pang of ecstacy crash over her.

“Mhm..”

A few scattered thrusts nudged her over the edge. (Y/N)’s walls clenched repeatedly over Miguel’s dick, squeezing him tightly with her velvety, slick cunt. 

“Fuck, c’mon now, relax.” His eyebrows knitted together as he massaged her hips, trying to get her to relax. “So tight, damn.” He finally pulled himself out and took to pumping himself in his hand. (Y/N) watched him fist his cock between her legs.

“Ah–”

He came onto his palm. The sticky, thin seed covered his palm. Miguel licked his cum off of his hand, watching as (Y/N)’s face heated up as he did. He cleaned it off, letting his tongue dart between his fingers to tease the girl before stopping and wiping the rest onto the girl’s cheek. 

“Come, down now,” he said, pulling her off of the desk. He chuckled as she stumbled over to the door, legs weak. 

“Thank you, Father,” (Y/N) croaked out, holding onto the doorknob. “But, what– if I keep thinking those thoughts, what do I do? Will I be forgiven?”

Miguel took his spot at his desk, wiping away at the wet spots left on the wood. 

“If you continue to be plagued by such thoughts,” he said, “do not be afraid to come back to my office. Remember, we all sin, but we can always fight for forgiveness.”

[metalnecklace]

Stubborn When It Comes To This

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader (plus size)

Words: 9075 (this really got away from me)

Warnings: Smut (mdni), Plus size reader, Use of (Y/N), Probably some historical inaccuracies, Mentions of canon character death, Language, Oral (both f and m receiving), Fingering, Light choking, Spitting, Creampie, Unsafe sex (wrap it up, folks), Praise, Consent is sexy!, Pet names

Notes: This was supposed to be a super quick thing, I have no idea what happened

Summary: Javier Peña is frustrating, until he isn’t.

Masterlist

Arrogant.

If I could pick any word to describe Javier Peña that’s the one I’d use. Arrogant. Or maybe asshole. Bastard. Piece of shit.

Maybe I was getting ahead of myself.

I had been working with the DEA for about two years as a secretary, and usually didn’t have much issue. Luckily most of the men left me alone due to my larger frame, but not even that stopped the infuriating Agent Peña from being a thorn in my side. My entire time was spent blocking him from documents he wanted, no matter how hard he shamelessly flirted with me for the first few months before he gave up the charade. I knew it wasn’t sincere, and I knew I’d be the one getting in trouble if I let him have what he wanted.

So I said the one word he hated the most: No.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he sighed, exasperated. “Just give me what I want. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”

“Yeah, my job,” I grumbled, “and my sanity. Javier, we can't keep doing this.”

“You’re right, we can’t. So give me those files.”

I looked up at him, putting down the pen I had been writing with. “I can’t give you those files. I barely have access to them, so what makes you think you can?”

He chewed his lip, staring at me while I refused to budge. “Fine. But if Escobar gets away again I’ll know who to blame.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, ‘cause I’m to blame for your incompetence.”

He narrowed his eyes, his jaw clenching so hard his lips were in a pout. I thought for a moment he looked almost adorable, but shook the thought from my head the second it entered.

“You know what? That’s fine. You sit here like a good girl behind your desk and frilly little blouse, while I put my ass on the line so you can live safely.” He stood up to his full height, looking down his nose at me. I had never felt smaller, but couldn’t avert my gaze. “Can I have the files, yes or no?”

“Fuck you, Javi.” I gritted out between my teeth.

He grumbled something under his breath that sounded like mierda, then turned on his heel and marched away.

I grabbed a scrap piece of paper from my desk and spent the next fifteen minutes scribbling on it with my pen until it ripped through the surface. It was upsetting, the way he got under my skin like no other. I had never dealt with anybody like Javier Peña.

It had been a lot tougher to deal with him since Carillo’s passing. He no longer danced around the subject as much, and got straight to the point. Or demands, I should say. His patience was thinner and it seemed as though it was getting harder for him to keep his temper at bay.

I felt bad about my comment. He had never spoken to me the way he had, even when I had frustrated him so much in the past. But I knew he was still feeling the weight of Carillo’s death. It was no secret Javi blamed himself.

I had just gotten so sick of his attitude, I couldn’t stop the words from slipping out. Of course he had called me a good girl too. I was always dressed like a school teacher instead of the usual classy outfits the secretaries had. They always looked so poised, perfect, and sexy, whereas I always felt a bit frumpy when I tried to show off a bit more of my body. So I stuck to the knee length pencil skirts with flowy, frilly blouses tucked in and buttoned all the way up.

Perhaps what bothered me most was that he was doing the one thing that most of the women in that office were accused of. Everybody knew he slept around, either with informants or the other women in the office that allowed his company. When he wasn’t partaking in those options he could be found at the whorehouse or the bar. He did everything to get what he needed, who he needed. But the second any of the women indulged in the same they were shamed by the men around them.

On my very first day I could see Javier Peña coming from a mile away. The way his jeans wrapped around his legs and ass like they were made just for his shape, and the glisten of his skin shining underneath the top three undone buttons of his shirt. The pout of his lips, the warmth of his eyes. I could feel myself drooling just watching the way he sauntered down the hall to my desk. His fingers stretched out over the paperwork on my desk in front of me as he leaned in like we were sharing a secret. The pout on his lips slipped into a smile that made me glad I was already sitting down. That smile disappeared once he realized I wasn’t going to be giving him what he wanted.

He tried the sweet approach for months, but I never budged. It frustrated him, that was apparent, but I couldn’t afford to get in trouble because of him. I had been transferred to Colombia because I was well trusted in my position at home, and didn’t need to jeopardize that reputation because of some pretty boy.

Even though he was very, very pretty.

I didn’t see him for two weeks after my comment about his incompetence. It was strange enough for me to notice, since I usually saw him every few days if not every day. I hadn’t even seen him around the office, which meant he was either away or avoiding me. I figured it was the former since I doubted I was even a speck on his radar. Sure we pissed each other off, and I usually went home imagining what it would be like to go home to him, but to him I was just a pain in the ass secretary who stood in his way.

Eventually news traveled down the pipeline that Javi had been caught up in Los Pepes, which was a complete shock to me. I never suspected he would do something like that, but I assumed that just showed I didn’t know him well enough at all.

Without his presence the office seemed duller. I found I was just moving through the days, not realizing how much I had looked forward to our little arguments before.

When Murphy announced that they got Escobar, the first person I thought of was Javi. The man who had spent all that time, all those years, just to be sent home in the final hour. My heart ached for him, but I was mostly just glad the fight was over.

The fight with Escobar, anyway.

It wasn’t long before we were assigned to the Cali Cartel case. Some of the secretaries were leaving, but a select few got to be reassigned. I wasn’t sure where I was going to be assigned, but was told that I had specifically been requested.

Imagine my surprise to find I had been requested by Javier Peña himself.

I walked into his office, expecting to find a new agent, but found those eyes pinning me in place.

“Javi?” My mouth was gaped open, and I’m sure my eyebrows were raised comically high on my forehead.

“(Y/N),” he greeted me as though it was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re early.”

“You’re the one who requested me?” I asked, still shocked. “Why are you even here? I thought you got sent home.”

He chuckled and resumed looking down at the files on his desk. “I was, then they called me back. Turns out they need someone willing to do what it takes. As for you, yes, I requested you. Turns out you’re willing to do the same.”

He looked back up and met my eyes, his lips were quirked into a slight smile.

“I figured if you could keep me away from those files that long then I’d need someone like you guarding me.”

“Guarding you?” I was so confused.

“Yes.” He stood up and walked around his desk so he was standing in front of me. Whenever I had spoken to him in the past I had been sitting at my desk with him hovering over me. This time we were face to face, and although he was still taller than me it felt nice to at least be closer to eye level. “I need somebody to make sure I’m not bothered throughout the day. I have way more responsibility and people depending on me than before, and I can’t have people thinking they can interrupt me whenever they think their bullshit is more important than mine.”

I nodded, chewing on my lip. My heart stuttered as I watched his eyes flick to my movements before moving back up my face.

“That’s funny,” I finally said, “considering it was you who used to think their bullshit was the most important.”

His smile grew into a smirk. “Exactly. Which is how I know you’ll be perfect.”

My face heated at his praise, but I turned away before he could notice. “Great. I’ll be at my desk if you need me.”

I was stationed just outside his office door, and did my best to keep people out unless he told me otherwise. Although I was slightly annoyed to not only be working with him yet again, but to be working for him, there was a strong part of me that wanted to do my best. I wanted to do well for him.

To be good for him.

Javi was right, though, he did have more riding on his shoulders. There were times where he worked throughout the night, and I would walk in the next morning to find him in the same spot as he was the evening before with the same clothes. Other times he was gone for a few days, or even weeks.

I was usually quite swamped with whatever he needed me to do, but even though I worked for him I felt like I never saw him. Javi’s voice over the phone became a comfort, because then at least I’d know he was alive and well. Or at least physically well.

“Javi, are you alright?” I asked during a phone call one afternoon.

“Yeah,” he grunted, “of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

He hung up, leaving me wondering what he wasn’t sharing. Not that he owed me any explanation. His work was exhausting, and he was putting every part of himself into it.

He finally caught one of the brothers, and the office decided to go out to the bar to celebrate the amazing victory. Javi didn’t seem to care that he made a huge step forward in not only the case, but also his career, and told everyone to go out without him. I watched his back, forever tense, as he dragged his feet into his office with his head down. He didn’t even acknowledge me when he passed by, but I tried to ignore the hurt that radiated through my bones.

I was dismissed with just a wave of his hand, and I went home to change. It had been a while since I had gone anywhere but work and home, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I wanted more. Every time I went home at the end of the day I longed for someone to fall into.

My closet was almost embarrassing, since I mostly had workwear that was not usually appropriate for a bar. In that moment I envied the other women at the office with their working outfits that looked so easy to transform to nighttime events. There were a few girls I had become friends with, but they were much smaller than me so I wouldn’t even be able to raid their wardrobes, and I was too proud to ask for fashion advice.

I swiped through skirt after skirt after blouse until I came across a dress I had tucked away toward the back. The tags were still on, but the little black number was perfect. It was slightly small when I squeezed myself into it, but only slightly. I just wouldn’t be able to sit in it. I also had to leave one of my top buttons undone, showing off the slopes of my breasts. The hemline was a bit shorter than the pencil skirts I usually sported, but it did the trick.

The mirror reflected a woman that I nearly didn’t recognize, until my red painted lips turned up into a smile. My eyes squinted a bit at the corners, showing my true happiness to be out of the office and ready to take on the nightlife.

I was on my way to the designated bar when I felt a pang in my chest, like a tug toward a certain building. Leaning forward, I asked the cab driver if we could make a quick stop. We pulled up outside the office and I slowly made my way inside. The lights in the hallways were dimmer than usual since the other offices were unoccupied, but one doorway was still bright.

Of course he was still there.

I stood in the doorway and studied him for a moment. Javi’s white shirt was a bit wrinkled, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a few buttons undone. His tie was laying off to the side across his desk, next to his arms which led up to where his hands cradled his head. He was clearly stressed, if the ash tray of cigarettes were any indication, along with the empty bottle of whiskey next to them.

For a moment I thought about walking over to him and smoothing my hands over his shoulders. They seemed so tense they were almost up to his ears. But I knew that wouldn’t be the right move. Instead I just knocked softly on the doorframe.

He jumped a bit, looking up to see who was there. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head once he saw me, and he dragged his gaze down my body and back up to my face. I could feel my chest heating up but stayed steady on my feet. I knew what I looked like, and felt better in my skin than I had in a long time.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, both confusion and shock etched across his features.

“I should be asking you the same question,” I said. “You know we’re celebrating your accomplishment right? If you’re not going to join us, at least give yourself a bit of a break.”

He sighed and sat back in his chair, his hands clasped together on his lap. “Just because I caught one of them doesn’t mean crime stops for the night.”

I shrugged. “I know, but still. Why don’t you relax for the night and let them panic a bit?”

“I haven’t seen you wear that before,” he commented, changing the subject to keep me from pressing. To my shock, his eyes shamelessly roamed my figure once more.

He used to flirt before he gave up, back when I was just a barrier between him and whatever he wanted. But even then, he would comment on my hair, accessories, nails, but never my body. Even when he commented on my clothes it was a throwaway comment about the patterns or adornments.

The way he was following the way the fabric of my dress hugged my waist, my hips, my soft tummy, had me blushing like crazy. It wasn’t subtle by any means, and certainly not what I was used to from Javi.

“Yeah, I bought it a while ago but never had a reason to wear it.” I smoothed down imaginary wrinkles as a way to distract myself from his gaze. “Figured now was as good a time as any.”

He hummed in agreement and looked back down to the papers sprawled out on his desk. I wondered briefly what it would be like to be those papers before tamping down that train of thought. My face was already burning from his attention, I didn’t need to make it worse.

“Well, I hope you have fun tonight. You’ve been working quite hard, you deserve a break.” He still stared ahead at the papers, as if it was too difficult to look at me again.

“Javi,” I said, causing him to drag his eyes away enough to finally look me in the eye, “you should really come.”

He nodded slowly, then looked away once more. “I’ll try.”

I sighed and wished him a goodnight, hoping I would see him again before the night was through. The click of my heels echoed throughout the empty hallway as I walked away from Javi’s doorway.

Although I occupied myself with my small group of work friends at the bar, I still kept a lookout for my boss just in case he actually attempted to make an appearance. After about an hour I gave up, realizing that he wasn’t going to grace us with his presence.

I had known that in the past he would only go out with either Carillo or Murphy, that he wasn’t the celebratory type, but I had hoped things had changed.

One of my coworkers approached me. I hadn’t really talked to him other than being the middle person whenever he needed to speak to Javi, but he seemed quite nice.

“I don’t normally see you out of work,” he said. His name was James, and he was slightly taller than Javi, but didn’t have an ounce of his charm.

“That’s because I’m hardly ever out of work.” I chuckled, bringing my drink to my lips. When I first ordered it I had to struggle not to cringe at the strong taste, but after another two it was going down like water. Dangerous, but much needed.

“I’d love to see more of you,” James said, not shy in the way his eyes took in every part of me. I felt myself struggling not to shy away, so unlike the confidence I felt when Javi did the same. “You’ll have to get the boss man to give you some more time away.”

I smiled. “Yeah, like that will ever happen. You know he needs the best,” I joked.

James stepped closer, his cologne invading my senses. “Well, he needs to learn how to share.”

“Who needs to share?”

My back straightened as though someone shoved a rod through my spine. “Javi?” I asked spinning to see him standing behind me, a smile directed at me, his eyes downright murderous toward James.

“Hello, (Y/N).” Javi brought his glass of, what I assumed was whiskey to his lips, and raised his hand to my lower back. I welcomed the warmth of his skin seeping through the fabric of my dress while his eyes remained on the man in front of us.

“I didn’t think you’d be coming out,” James spoke calmly, as if he couldn’t tell the tension radiating between us. “I heard you weren’t the partying type. Well, anymore.”

Javi’s smile never wavered, but his eyes darkened enough that I noticed. “I wasn’t planning on making an appearance but somebody reminded me of how hard we’ve all been working.” He turned to look at me, his hand tightening slightly on my back. “If we don’t celebrate our successes we might as well let them win now.”

“You mean your success?” James wasn’t backing down.

“Teamwork.” Javi countered, looking back up at James. “I couldn’t have done it without my team.” His hand slipped around to my hip, pulling me into his space. James’ eyes flickered to the motion, his smile turning into a smirk.

“Wow. Looks like you’ve grown up a bit, Peña.”

“Someone had to.” His hand tightened, my chest felt on fire.

James glanced toward me, then the hand at my hip, before aiming his glare back to Javi. “Although it is comforting to see some habits haven’t changed.” He stepped back, turning to part from us, but not before throwing over his shoulder, “you two have a wonderful night!”

I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye before James was out of sight. Javi removed his hand from me and started to walk away, but not before I spun on him, ready for a fight.

“What the fuck was that?” I was shocked at Javi’s display, but mostly downright furious.

He shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“All of this,” I gestured between us, and to my hip, still feeling the warmth of his skin, “and the whole ‘someone had to’? Are you serious?”

His eyes darkened. “What are you trying to say here?”

“You have no right,” I hissed through my teeth in anger. “I may work for you but I don’t belong to you.”

“I didn’t even do anything. If you want to keep talking to James, be my guest.” He stepped closer, I could smell the whiskey on his lips. “But don’t think I’m going to stand by while that shitbag tries to pick you up.”

“Maybe I wanted him to pick me up, ever think about that?” I crossed my arms, then immediately uncrossed them when his eyes flickered to my cleavage on display.

“I did think about it, but thought you might want to know what kind of man was trying to do it.” He downed the rest of his drink then zeroed back in on me. “That man has been sleeping his way through the office and leaving a trail of broken hearts behind him. I didn’t think you’d want to be one of them.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “So he’s you?”

His lips tightened into a thin line, his jaw clenching. “Right.”

It felt like someone reached into my chest and squeezed my heart. I knew I wasn’t being fair, but I wasn’t completely wrong either.

“Javi, I’m sorry I-“

He held up his hand. “No, you’re right. I won’t be bothering you anymore, don’t worry. Have a good rest of your night.”

I didn’t bother trying to stop him as he set his empty glass at the bar and walked away. I sighed, finding myself alone, and when I looked around I noticed James was already chatting with another woman, her head thrown back in laughter. My night was ruined, so I went home.

Javi didn’t return to the office for another week. I had been told he was away looking for ways to keep Gilberto Rodriguez in prison, but he hadn’t left me a single note. He never even called me the entire time he was away. I worked away with what I had delivered to me by others, but Javier Peña never contacted me directly.

He had to return to his office eventually, but it only happened after Franklin Jurado was murdered. I knew Javi was beyond pissed and frustrated. But so was I, especially after he walked into his office without a single acknowledgment thrown my way.

I immediately stood and followed him into his office before he even had a chance to sit down.

“What do you need, (Y/N)?” He asked, still not looking my way,

“What do I need? What do I need, Javier?” My chest heaved while I tried to contain my anger. “What the fuck?”

He finally looked up, his face placid. “Unless this has to do with keeping that motherfucker locked up, then I suggest you save it for later.”

“Fine,” I grumbled, then walked out of his office, slamming the door behind me. I barely paused to grab my purse before storming out of the office, not giving a single shit who was watching my temper tantrum.

I marched myself to the nearest bar, ordering the cheapest whiskey they had. I wasn’t wanting to get drunk, just needed to dull the senses a bit. Calm the fires that licked at my heart.

Two drinks later I found myself feeling enough of the effects and bravery for what I wanted to do. I laid more than enough cash on the bar and clutched my purse to keep me steady as I walked out and in the direction of a certain apartment.

I had only been to Javi’s apartment once before, and it was only to drop off paperwork he had needed. He had barely cracked the door, not wanting to cross our work and home boundaries, which I appreciated in the moment. This time I was ready to run across those boundaries if he’d let me.

Javi never answered his door. I knocked over and over but no response. I sighed, realizing he probably hadn’t left the office. It felt as though I was doing a walk of shame as I made my way out to the street to try and flag down a cab.

The cab passed by the office and I almost asked if we could stop, but no longer felt the fight that had brought me to Javi’s apartment. Instead I just rested my head on the window and watched the lights pass by until we stopped outside my place. I trudged up the small flight of stairs and rounded the corner to find the man I had been looking for leaning against my door.

He was still in his navy suit from work, though his white dress shirt underneath was slightly wrinkled. His tie was missing which gave me room to see the expanse of tan skin exposed with his top three buttons undone.

I stopped in my tracks. “What’re you doing here?”

He shrugged as if it wasn’t a huge deal. “It’s later. I figured you still wanted to talk.”

I glared at him, his expression still not changing as if he was already bored from what I would have to say. Instead of lashing out in my hallway I pushed past him to unlock the door. I walked in leaving it open, he got to choose whether or not he crossed that boundary. Sure enough, I heard the door close with a click and the lock slid into place. I was glad he took the same safety precautions as me.

“Take a seat wherever.” I waved toward my living room before making my way into the kitchen. I grabbed two glasses and thought about it before pouring myself more whiskey. Javi would appreciate it, but I probably needed to slow down. I poured myself a glass of water instead.

I brought his alcohol and my water out to the living room and handed him the former before sitting in the chair opposite him.

“So,” he started, “what did you want to talk about? Back at the office, I mean.”

I took a deep breath in and out. “You’ve been a real jerk.”

He didn’t seem shocked whatsoever and nodded for me to keep going.

“I’ve been working my ass off for you, even though I did not like you, and you’ve been so rude. You hardly give me the time of day, and the whole James thing was fucked up.” I felt like everything I had to say was falling apart. I was spiraling, no longer fueled by the alcohol and anger running through my bloodstream just an hour earlier.

“Okay,” he said. “You done?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m done.”

He stood up, drained his glass, and placed it on the table. “Alright. Sorry for being an ass. Hope you have a good night.”

My mouth dropped open as he turned to leave. “Javi!”

He stopped but didn’t turn back to look at me.

“You can’t just leave, don’t you have anything to say?” I stood up and walked over to stand in front of him. He wouldn’t look at me.

“I don’t have anything to say. I apologized, what more do you want?”

“Javi, come on. There must be something else going on. I know you’re frustrated with work but that doesn’t explain your behaviour-“

His head snapped up, his eyes locking on mine.

“You have no idea what I’m feeling so don’t fucking act like it.”

“Then tell me! Tell me, Javi,” I begged.

He grabbed my upper arms and pushed me back toward the wall. His hand came up to the back of my head to cushion it against the hard surface, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I couldn’t look away from the heat burning in his eyes, intense and focused directly on me.

“I have seen shit that would keep you up nights. Stuff nightmares are made of. And I’m so fucking tired. Half the reason I smoke as much as I do, no matter how hard I’ve tried to quit, are to stop my hands from shaking, and the only comfort I’ve found is either in someone else’s bed or at the end of a fucking bottle.” He softened his grip on my arm. “Until I met you.”

I opened my mouth to speak but the look he gave me was enough to stop me in my tracks.

“Ever since you walked through that door you’ve been the only thing I think about. Whiskey doesn’t taste the same, smoking has lost all its effect, and I wouldn’t dream of being in any bed but yours. If only you’d have me. I know I don’t deserve you. You’re so good, you’re the hope in this world. I don’t deserve to carve out my own comfort in you.” He pushed himself even closer. I could feel the heat between our lips. “But that doesn’t stop me from wanting you. Craving you.”

He leaned in, his nose brushing against the underside of my jaw. My eyes fluttered shut as he inhaled my scent, sighing out and causing goosebumps to erupt over my skin.

“If you tell me to stop then I will, just say the word. I’ll walk away, I’ll move away if I have to. I’ll never bother you again.” His voice was raspy, a restraint pulled tight over his vocal cords. “But if you don’t stop me then I’m afraid I never will. I’m addicted to you. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

“Javi,” I breathed, finally opening my eyes again to find him pulled away enough to observe my reaction. “I-“

He shook his head slightly. “Yes or no, querida. Do you want this? Do you want me as much as I want you?” His voice was a whisper, barely loud enough to hear, shared only between us like a secret though we were alone.

I nodded my head, then said, “yes, Javi. Yes.”

Kissing him was like coming home after a long day. The plush press of his lips quenched a thirst I didn’t realize was that strong within me. It was everything I wanted. Everything I needed.

His arms were strong as they held me against his body, pulling me in tighter and tighter. I couldn’t breathe, but I couldn’t stop. Our lips slotted together perfectly, he pushed and I pulled, drinking him in. I moaned into his mouth, giving him an opportunity to slide his tongue past my lips.

We pulled away gasping for air, our chests heaving together. His eyes searched mine for any sign of regret or hesitancy. He never found it. The only thing radiating from my very being was want.

“Wow,” I sighed out, “that was… wow.”

He chuckled and leaned in to peck at my lips. “It doesn’t have to stop if you don’t want it to.” His lips smudged kisses across my jaw, then down to my neck. I moaned when he reached my collarbone, licking a strip up behind my ear.

“I don’t ever want to stop,” I said, slightly out of breath.

“Good,” he growled against my skin before sinking his teeth in enough to make me groan. “Me neither.”

“I need you, Javi,” I said, my voice turning to a moan at the tail end of his name.

“I know, lo se, hermosa,” he spoke between bites along my neck. “Show me your bed, baby.”

I pulled back as much as he would let me and led him by the front of his shirt through my hallway until we got to my room. Before I could turn around to face him again he had wrapped his arms around me and pulled me against his front. His name left my lips in sighs and moans while his hands slid up my body to cup my breasts, all while his lips still continued exploring any inch of skin they could reach.

My ass pressed back against his aching cock that could be felt through his suit pants. He pulled his lips away from my neck enough to whimper in my ear as I kept grinding myself back against him. His thumbs rubbed against my nipples through the fabric of my blouse and bra, but soon enough he pulled away with a huff.

“You look so sexy in this outfit, baby, but I need to feel you,” he said, his eyes roving over my clothed figure. He reached up and flicked the frills at my collar with his fingertips, smiling gently at me.

“Thought you hated the frills.” I remembered him commenting on them several times.

He shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. “They drive me fucking crazy, keeping up that good girl image. You were always such a good girl with everyone.” He leaned in and kissed me, pulling away just enough that I could still feel his lips. “For everyone except me.”

I gasped as he bit my lower lip, tugging on it slightly. His hands started undoing the buttons on my blouse as he kept talking.

“Always so vulgar, dismissive, uncaring with me. Pushing me away, telling me no.” His lips followed the skin he uncovered as he continued to slowly unbutton my shirt. “But you can be a good girl, can’t you?”

He looked up at me, his big, brown eyes tugging at my heart. He smirked and shoved me backward onto the bed. I barely got my bearings before feeling his body following mine, caging me in. There was no way I could move as he pressed me into the mattress and continued kissing his way down my body.

“You’re going to be such a good girl for me. Aren’t you, baby?”

“Y-yes, Javi,” I moaned. “I’ll be so good for you.”

I had never planned on giving in so quickly to Javi but I melted as soon as I felt his lips on me.

“Good fucking girl,” he growled against my lower abdomen. His hands slipped down to my skirt which he peeled down my legs. “God, these thighs. They look fucking delicious.”

I went to close them, feeling too open for him, but he slapped the inside of one of them before I could. He chased the sting with a gentle kiss, then sucked a trail of marks inside my thighs up to my center. He practically ripped my panties off, bringing them to his nose and inhaling while his eyes were locked onto mine.

Lord, he was sinful. And I needed him bad.

“Javi,” I groaned, pressing my head back into the bed.

“Ask nicely, hermosa.” His hands slipped up my calves and thighs, pushing my legs apart enough for him to settle between them. He was on his knees on the floor, and my legs were over his shoulders. “I thought you were a good girl.”

“Please, Javi. Please,” I begged. I wasn’t even sure what I was asking for, pleasure forming a steady haze in my mind. All I knew was that if he didn’t touch me I was going to go crazy.

“There we go,” he said before sliding his thumb through my slit. He ran it over my clit before moving further toward my hole. “Fuck, so wet. You’re absolutely soaked for me.”

I gripped onto the blankets as his tongue swiped over my clit. His name and ‘please’ were the only words I could say or think while his head was buried between my thighs. My back arched as his tongue was relentless on my clit, his hands warm and firm holding my legs in place.

“Are you always wet like this? Or is it just for me?” He asked, pulling away enough to circle me with his middle finger. I writhed on the bed, wanting more. “You don’t have to answer that, baby, I think I already know.”

His finger slowly pushed into me, and I moaned for him. “Javi, fuck, need you, Javi.”

“Lo sé, querida, but I need you to be patient for me.” He continued to fuck me slowly with his finger, then slipped another one inside. I practically lifted off the bed when he crooked them and hit the right spot. “There we go.”

“Javi, please,” I breathed, my chest heaving. “I want to cum.”

He smirked at me, then spit directly on my clit. My eyes rolled into the back of my head at the feeling of his spit sliding between my folds.

“Filthy, baby, you’re fucking filthy. You love this, don’t you?” He dove back in, sucking my bud into his mouth while he was rubbing against the exact spot I needed.

Lightning started to shoot through my veins, and I knew I was close. Just in time for him to leave my clit. His tongue traveled down until it was fucking into me between his fingers. My chest burned as a blush spread up to my neck as I opened up for him. His nose nudged at my clit once, then twice, until it became a steady rhythm.

He pulled away. “Ride my face, baby, use your hips.” He pushed his tongue into me then pulled back out. “I won’t break, I can take it, come on. Fuck my face.”

I groaned and reached down to fist his hair between my fingers. He slipped his fingers from my cunt and wrapped his arms around my hips, pulling me down on his face. His nose pressed deliciously against my clit and his tongue continued to lick into me. I started to buck my hips, testing out the waters until he used his grip on me to encourage more movement.

It wasn’t long before I was pulling his head as close as possible and grinding my hips against him. Javi moaned against me, the vibration racing through my body. My toes started to curl as his grip tightened into steel. A thrill ran through me at the thought that there might be marks afterward, that his fingerprints would be worn into my skin as a reminder of how I felt in that moment.

My orgasm hit me like a bolt of lightning as it shot through me. “Javi, Javi, Javi,” I chanted.

He groaned and finally pulled away once I fell limp. “Holy fuck, you’re so beautiful when you cum.”

I lifted my head to look at the man still on his knees for me. His face glistened with my juices, and my mouth watered at the thought of tasting myself on his lips. A blush continued to creep up onto my cheeks as I took in his disheveled appearance. He was still wearing his suit, which was extremely rumpled, and reminded me that I was still in my blouse and bra.

He leaned forward and kissed me, before he started to slide my shirt off my shoulders, then moved his hands to the straps of my bra. It was almost strange how delicate he was after the strength he showed while holding me to his face, but he was gentle as he slid my straps down my arms. One of his hands went up my back to the clasp, and he undid it with a simple motion. I gasped as he smirked at me while pulling the fabric off my chest.

I was always very conscious of my breast size. They were considerably larger from a young age, and something I had always tried to hide. The first time I hadn’t was that night at the bar. I thought about shying away from Javi as he uncovered them, but the look in his eyes made me freeze. His pupils almost completely engulfed the deep brown, and they were fixated on my fully exposed body.

“Holy fuck, hermosa,” he growled, reaching up to cup both breasts in his warm palms. “I knew you were beautiful, but seeing you like this? Unbelievable.”

His thumbs smoothed over my nipples, making me moan. The warmth of his mouth pressed on my sternum, then moved to my right breast.

“Javi,” I sighed, one of my hands coming up to the back of his head. His hair was still ruffled from when my hands were in it before, and he moaned when I gave a gentle tug to the curls at his nape.

He licked over my nipple, making my body jerk. “What do you need, baby?”

“Clothes, off, please,” I panted as he absolutely tortured my nipples with his teeth and tongue. “Need to see you.”

He pulled back, locking me in place with just a look. Slowly he started to slide his suit jacket off, maintaining eye contact even when he started undoing the rest of the buttons on his shirt. My skin vibrated with a restless want, my fingers itched to reach out and touch the tan planes of his stomach that he revealed to me. I was practically salivating by the time he dropped his shirt to the floor. His fingers moved to the button of his pants but I reached out to stop him.

“Wait,” I said. “Let me. Please.”

He smiled and dropped one of his hands, the other coming up to smooth the hair out of my face. “Okay, baby. You go ahead.”

I continued on, beaming up at him, trying my hardest to be sexy but the euphoria running through my limbs made it impossible. My fingers were trembling at the thought of what I was doing, but I pressed on, determined not to let him see how nervous I was. A firm grip on the underside of my jaw caused me to pause.

Javi lifted my face so I could see his. “(Y/N). We don’t have to keep going. We can stop right here if you want.”

I shook my head as much as I could in his hold. “I don’t want to stop. Just nervous is all.”

He nodded. “Take your time, I’m in no rush as long as I’m with you.”

His words caused my smile to grow almost too large for my face. I could tell he meant it, his smile matching mine even through the dark look in his eyes. Even if I couldn’t feel the heat radiating from his body, and the hardness just on the other side of his pants, I would know how turned on he was.

I popped the button on his pants and slowly dragged the zipper down. “Such a good girl,” he cooed above me, keeping me going.

The dusting of hair leading down his pants was soft against the back of my fingers as I revealed more and more skin. Where I thought his underwear should begin was bare, and when I started to pull the fabric down I was met with the thick base of his cock.

I glanced up and his hand reached down and cupped my jaw, his thumb smoothing over my bottom lip and dragging it down until it popped back up. I felt like I was barely breathing as I refocused on the task at hand and pulled his pants the rest of the way down.

His cock was smooth as velvet and heavy in my hand. I heard him inhale sharply as I started to drag my hand slowly toward his tip then back down to the base. I lowered my head until my lips were perched at the slit, and poked my tongue out to catch the bead of precum that had gathered there. He hissed through his teeth as I hummed at the taste of him.

“Fuck, baby, stop teasing,” he grunted, reaching his hand to the back of my head. I waited for him to pull me closer to his length but he never did.

I parted my lips and slid the head of his cock into my mouth further and further until I could feel the weight of him settle on my tongue. The taste of him was heady, and flooded my senses. Salt, skin, warmth, and him.

Before I could continue pushing myself further, his hand came around to my throat and wrapped around firmly. He pressed back and I had no choice but to pull myself off his cock, and continued to follow his grip until he had me pinned on the bed. His hand squeezed once around my neck, enough for me to feel lightheaded for a moment, and then he pulled away.

Javi slowly tugged at his cock, now throbbing and fully hard, while he watched me. My mouth was still agape and my chest rose and fell steadily.

“I’m sorry, hermosa, but I need to fuck you.”

I couldn’t speak, too stunned at the ghost of his grip on my neck. I had never had somebody do that, but the way he had wrapped his hand around my throat caused a steady pulse to erupt between my legs. I wanted his hands back on me, wherever he wanted to put them.

He kicked off his pants and socks, then climbed on the bed next to me. I pushed myself up until I was laying on my back toward the top of my bed, my head on a pillow. Javi watched with his mouth in the shape of an ‘O’, trailing his eyes up my legs, my stomach, my chest, then landing on my face.

He moved so he was on his knees between mine, and brought his fist down to his cock once more. I watched, mesmerized by the sight of the wet head of his cock disappearing in his large fist, as he lazily stroked himself.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded, his voice soft but firm.

I obeyed immediately, bringing my hand down between my legs and circling my clit with my middle finger.

“Fuck,” he groaned, “you look so good. You’re doing so good for me, baby, so good. Fuck.”

“Javi,” I whimpered for him. “I need you. Please, I need you so bad.”

I was absolutely aching for him, electricity lighting up my nerves while he watched me pleasure myself all for him. I gasped at the feeling of his cock sliding between my folds and looked to see him thrusting his hips against me. He held firm onto the base of his cock, directing it to nudge against my entrance before sliding it up to my clit instead, over and over and over.

“Beg,” he said. He didn’t ask, he spoke calmly as if he wasn’t torturing me.

“What?” I asked, unsure that I even heard him right.

“I said,” he slapped his cock against my clit, making my entire body jolt on the bed, “beg.”

I thought about what that meant for him. After years of begging me for something as simple as basic files, and after years of me telling him no, he now had me in the palm of his hand. For a second I thought about saying no, then he slapped his cock down again. Tears sprang to the corners of my eyes at the sensitivity, and I gasped when he pressed himself at my entrance.

“Please,” I whispered, “please, Javi. I need you, I need your cock inside me. Please fuck me.”

He sighed, pulling back. “You’re lucky my patience has run out. Next time you’ll have to do better.”

The thought of ‘next time’ raced through my mind, but that was cut short when he started steadily pushing in. The stretch of him caused my head to fall back into the pillow and a guttural moan was ripped from deep within my chest.

He stilled when he was settled all the way, and I wiggled my hips to feel more of him. He leant down and braced one hand on the bed next to my head, while the other gripped onto my outer thigh.

“Want to be gentle with you,” he said, his words coming out tight. “Want you to feel good.”

“Don’t. Don’t be gentle, please.” I panted underneath him, sweat starting to prickle at my skin. “Want to feel it, I want to feel all of you, Javi. Don’t hold back.”

He pulled out abruptly, and I whined at the loss of him. “I need you on top,” he said, helping me move so he could take my place on the bed. His hands guided me so I was straddling him. “You want to be good for me, right?”

I nodded, feeling my nerves creep up. He could see all of me, and I would be the one in control.

“Then fuck me like a good girl.”

He pulled my hips down into his length, and I threw my head back as he sunk further and further in. Once I was fully seated my entire body shuddered. His lips were parted with his tongue sliding out to wet them as he looked at me like I was his next meal.

“Look at you, baby, mierda,” his voice somehow came out incredibly sweet and syrupy, even though I could feel every ridge of his cock against my walls. “Ride my cock, that’s it, ride me like I’m yours, I’m all yours, baby, all yours.”

The only sound I could make was a squeaky, high pitched moan as my legs burned from bouncing on him. My hands were perched on his chest while his traveled up my body to grasp my tits. He held me firm and I used the opportunity to switch up what I was doing.

“Oh, Javi,” my voice came out lower than expected once I started to grind myself against his pelvis. His name continued to pour from my lips, getting more and more breathy until I was just shaping my lips around the letters.

“That’s it, good girl,” he continued his praise, which made me grind down even harder. “Such a good fucking girl.”

My orgasm approached steadily, less of a punch to the gut as the last one, and my thighs tightened around his torso. I continued to grind myself back and forth, my toes curling, his words and moans spurring me on. I reached up to one of his hands and pulled it off my breast, leading it up to grip around my throat. Finally I gasped out his name as my pleasure pulled me under, squeezing the air out of me until I slumped down over him.

“Oh fuck, such a dirty girl, cumming with my hand around your throat,” he growled.

He barely gave me time to recover, and pulled my upper body closer so he could bend his legs. “Stay still,” he grunted before pounding into me so mercilessly the only thing I could do was hang on to him.

My teeth latched onto his collarbone, and my hands scrambled until they found purchase on his shoulders. He was grunting and gasping while pushing himself in and out of me, my cunt deliciously trying to grip him while I sobbed from oversensitivity.

Javi chanted my name over and over while I continued to bite down on his neck. His hands reached down, one wrapping around my lower body to press me down onto him further, while the other gripped my ass. His body jolted, messing up his rhythm, and he held me even closer to him. I felt so incredibly full as his grip of steel held me firmly in place. His cock pulsed inside me before his hot cum started filling me up.

“Baby,” he whined against my temple, his voice gravelly and torn. “Baby, baby, baby.”

Eventually his body melted, his cock softening inside me. We made no effort to move, and stayed still just breathing together.

“I am never letting you go,” he murmured, his lips still pressed to my hairline above my ear. “You hear me? Never. You’re stuck with me now.”

I chuckled, then gasped when I felt his cock stir. “Sounds good to me.”

He helped me roll over so I was on my side, and he went to find a warm cloth to clean us up. I could feel his cum steadily leaking out of me, but was still a bit sad when he wiped it away. It helped when I saw the way he watched it drip out of me first, almost like he didn’t want it to end either.

We slept in each other's arms that night, and when I awoke to find my face still buried in his chest I couldn’t help but smile. He slowly woke up not long after me, and we laid in bed kissing each other slowly. Our tongues moved lazily together with our soft moans waking us up more and more. He pulled away and I reached for him.

“I can’t, we have to go to work.” He chuckled while gathering his clothes.

I groaned and rolled onto my back so I could watch him. He got dressed while I wished he would do the opposite.

“Can’t we just call in sick?” I mumbled, sleep still thick in my throat.

“Yeah, cause that won’t look suspicious.” He buttoned up his shirt, and started to roll the sleeves up his forearms a bit. “Bad enough I have to walk in there with the same clothes as yesterday.”

I smirked, and got up to get dressed. My smirk turned into a full blown smile, and it didn’t leave when we got into his car together, or when we walked into the office side by side with his hand on my lower back, and not when I sat at my desk.

And it certainly didn’t leave as I watched him continue on into his office with the top three buttons of his shirt still undone, showing off the purpling bruise on his collarbone.

[allycat319]

Unlikely Affection Chapter 23: Forgotten**

“You need to do what?” I asked, panic flooding my veins as I stood from the chair and began backing towards the door. Did he want to take my memories? We had been perfectly happy before this point and now he wants me to forget everything…No way, I need to figure out a way to run from this room. 

“Little Star, listen to me…” I shake my head quickly and he stands and walks slowly towards me, holding his hands up to show he isn’t a threat…right now. “It is only temporary.” 

“But-t why? I don’t understand.” My voice is shaking and my nerves are beginning to bubble over. 

“Umbridge believes Potter has formed an unauthorized group and is conspiring against the ministry. She will begin interrogating students in the coming week-” 

“That has nothing to do with us…Why do you need to take my memories?” I interrupted him and he came closer, placing his hands on my arms and squeezing gently. 

He sighed “She has asked me to provide her with Veritaserum for her to use during the interrogations. Which means you will be vulnerable to her prodding.” He explained and my panic began to subside. 

“I know you have no part in Potter’s devious activities, however, we cannot take the risk.” I chew on my bottom lip as he speaks. I haven’t told Severus about my part in Dumbledore’s Army and I never intended to but now that he is planning to go rifling through my memories, I’m going to have to tell him and I thoroughly dread how he is going to handle it. 

“I think it would be a good time to tell you that-” Severus cuts me off with a groan. 

“Please tell me you have kept your nose out of this business between Potter and the ministry.” I wince and he growls. I have been avoiding telling him about Edwin and I being involved with Dumbledore’s Army, I knew he would be angry at me for getting involved but we needed someone to teach us how to defend ourselves. If Umbridge wasn’t going to do it then Harry was the best option. 

“Before you start telling me how dangerous it is and how dumb I am…Umbridge is a horrible teacher and we all decided that we needed to learn how to defend ourselves.” The look on Severus’s face is terrifying. I knew when I told him about the meetings he was going to be angry but now…He is pissed. 

He grimaced at my words and returned to his desk, sitting down and leaning back in his chair, his hands running up and down his face. He sighed “I will remove those memories for the time being as well…I assume Finley is involved also.” 

“Yes.” The words are low when they leave my lips and my heart sinks again at the look on his face. I hate when I disappoint him. 

He took a few seconds before he spoke again. “Bring me Finley…I will remove his memories as well…regarding both our relationship and Potter’s little group.” 

I nod and turn to leave the room when a question pops to the tip of my tongue and I can’t knowingly get Edwin and let Severus take our memories before I ask him. I turn back around to him and ask “Are you going to return both of our memories…About the relationship and Dumbledore’s Army?”

He looks up at me and cocks an eyebrow, “Do you believe I will not return your memories to you?” He asks I can’t read his expression and it makes me even more nervous than I already am. 

“If you think you are keeping me safe by not returning them…yes.” 

“Do not fret Little Star…” He stands and walks over to me, taking my hands in his before continuing “I will be returning your memories to you, but you are not to continue with Potter’s group.” 

“But they need as much help as they can get,” I argue and he shakes his head, pulling my hands to his lips and placing a kiss on both of my knuckles. 

“Give me your word that you will not attend any more of those meetings.” I huff and nod, knowing that I can’t just stop showing up, I overheard Hermione talking to Harry and Ron about how she had jinxed the paper we all signed up on and anyone would regret running and telling Umbridge. At this point, I’m not sure if the jinx works if we are disbanded from the group and I am not inclined to find out. 

“Good…Now go get Finley. Umbridge has informed me that she will be interrogating you tomorrow morning.” I cocked an eyebrow. 

“Why did she tell you when she was going to interrogate me?” 

“You are my assistant and she will be removing you from my class tomorrow…She wanted to be sure that I did not need you.” I smirk and remove my hands from his, playing with the buttons on his cassock flirtatiously. 

“If she only knew how much you need me…” I trail off, glancing up at him through my lashes. “We could always go to your room before I get Edwin…” I smiled and he let out a shaky breath when I leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“Get to my bedroom…now.” He growls and I smile wide at the victory. 

I run through the door to his chambers, stripping off clothing as I go and he chuckles, following closely behind me. When I arrive at his room, I have managed to remove every bit of clothing except for my knickers and bra which I know Severus will have no problem removing. I feel his body looming behind me when I stop at the side of his bed. His hands come up and run over my body, playfully grabbing my ass before running up and unclasping my bra, and taking the lacy fabric off of my body. 

I shivered when I felt his nose run lightly against my neck, inhaling my scent. “You smell delicious.” His deep baritone almost sent me to my knees with the anticipation of what is going to come next. 

To my surprise, I felt Severus shuffle behind me removing his clothing, minus his white undershirt…of course and I sighed. “I was hoping you would let me take off your clothes.” He chuckled at my disappointment and continued to ravish my body with kisses, paying close attention to the sweet spot on my neck. 

I moaned and leaned back into him, allowing him to trail his hands down to my knickers, running his fingers along the edge of the fabric for a second before finally roaming down to my mound. His middle and forefinger expertly stroked my outer lips and I whimpered. 

“Does my Little Star want my fingers?” I could tell he was smirking from his tone and I did not care in the slightest. He knew exactly what I want and I know exactly how to get it. 

“Yes sir.” I groaned and he gave in to my pleading voice, dipping his fingers into my dripping heat. 

“Mmmm, someone is very wet.” He mumbled into my neck, placing a gentle kiss on the spot that made my knees weak. 

“We were interrupted last time.” I whimpered, rocking my hips into his hand. His fingers felt amazing inside of me and I felt myself growing closer to my climax. I didn’t want to come this soon but my body desperately needed the release after being denied. 

“Right, you are darling…But I assure you, Merlin himself could not pull me from this room.” His voice was husky, I knew he was just as turned on as me and I was enjoying every second of it. 

I groaned when he continued his ministrations on the spongy spot inside me that made me see stars. “It’s not Merlin I’m worried about…” He chuckled darkly, pulling his fingers from me. 

Before I had the chance to whine, I was pushed onto the bed. My stomach bounced on the soft fabric of his duvet and I giggled. However, it died suddenly on my lips when he straddled my closed legs and thrust himself inside of me without warning. The position allowed me to feel him incredibly deep and I was climbing quickly to my peak already. 

“Severus!” I squealed in delight when he began to thrust at a brutal pace.  

My fingers gripped the duvet as he began a punishing pace. The sound of skin slapping against skin and Severus’ deep grunts echoed on the stone walls of the dungeon room and it was incredibly erotic. 

Far too soon my eyes began to roll into the back of my head as my orgasm ripped through me, lighting every nerve endings on fire. The duvet muffled my screams of pleasure and my knuckles turned white from the force of me gripping the fabric.

Severus slowed his pace when I came down from my high. I could feel him lean down to my ear, his white undershirt grazing against my back. 

“Are you alright my darling?” He chuckled darkly and I nodded quickly, my face smashing into the duvet. 

To my surprise, Severus pulled out of me and I whined at the loss of him, missing the feeling of his warm length in my quivering walls. 

“Don’t fret Little Star, just a change of position.” 

I felt him move to the top of the bed and plop down against the pillows. I turned my face to the side, raising an eyebrow at him. “What are you doing?” 

“Ride me.” His voice was commanding and it made me shiver. 

My body moved of its own accord, crawling across his legs until I was hovering over his length. We had never tried this position before and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. 

I hesitated for a second before sinking onto his hardness. He noticed my resistance and reached for the hand that was planted on his abdomen, stroking my knuckles softly to reassure me that I was safe with him. 

I took a deep breath and sank slowly, sighing when he filled me to the hilt. There was a twinge of pain there because of the depth. I winced and he reached up and stroked my cheek. 

“Slowly, Little Star.” 

I allowed myself a few moments to get used to how deep he was before I began to move, circling my hips and grinding down onto his hard cock. I planted my hands firmly on his clothed chest and began to ride him, bouncing up and down until I was rocking on the precipice of orgasm for the second time this evening. 

Severus gripped my hips to help guide my bouncing, his head pushed back into his green silk pillowcase, and his eyes trained on the point where our bodies connected. 

“Se-Severus…It feels too good...I’m so-so close.” I stuttered, my eyes screwed shut in pure ecstasy. 

Severus growled, pistoning his hips to meet mine, effectively driving me headlong into a toe-curling and brain-numbing climax. I felt his grip on my hips tighten and his hips stuttered as he met his release. 

I managed to open my eyes to see his face, he had a ridiculously sexy orgasm face. Teeth bared, eyes closed and head thrown back…I could come again just looking at him. 

After a few moments of coming down from the amazing high we had been soring on, it was time for him to remove my memories until Umbridge had the time to interrogate me. 

I threw my clothes on and ran to the dorms to get Edwin and bring him down to the dungeons where Severus explained everything to him and Edwin began to panic slightly…

“So you’re going to remove our memories?” Edwin asked and Severus rolled his eyes, growing tired of Edwin's questions. 

“Yes, Mr. Finley…I think I have just spent 20 minutes explaining that to you…” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and I fumbled with my hands. 

“But how do I know you’re not going to see all of my embarrassing secrets?” Edwin’s eyes flitted nervously between me and Severus and I shrugged. 

“Edwin, do you think he cares about your run-in with the beautification potions in your mum's vanity…” Severus smirked at my comment and Edwin glared at me. 

“Rora!” He hissed “Do you not remember that he threatened to poison our fourth year to test antidotes? Or maybe the time he told Hermione that her teeth looked no different after she was jinxed? I know you love him but he doesn’t have a good track record of being kind…I don’t want him fiddling with my brain.” 

Severus stood from his desk and walked over to us, standing so he was directly in front of Edwin. “Finley, you mean a fair amount to my Little Star…” Edwin mimicked vomiting at the nickname but Severus ignored him and continued talking, “I give you my word that I will keep your brain intact…Well, as intact as it is under normal circumstances.” 

Edwin closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, “Fine…But only because Umbridge is sadistic and I don’t want to be the one that spills any details to her.” 

Severus walked over to me, producing a small vile filled with a light blue liquid and handing it to me.

“What is this?” I asked, tilting the bottle to the side and examining the contents. 

“A weak sleeping draught…I will remove your memories while you sleep and you will wake with no memories of us or Potter’s club…Until I return them to you, of course.” He made sure to add that last bit so I wouldn't back out and I was grateful for the reassurance. 

“Okay…I’m ready.” I inhaled and uncorked the vile, bringing it up to my lips but pausing before taking a sip. 

“Severus?” 

“Yes, Little Star.” 

“I love you.” I downed the foul-tasting liquid in one gulp and my eyes immediately began to feel heavy. With the urge to sleep being too powerful, I succumbed to the tiredness and drifted off to darkness. 

An Hour Later

“Astrill…Astrill, wake up.” I stirred as my shoulder was shaken gently. 

I groan and lift my head slowly from the desk I had fallen asleep on, “Professor?” I ask, looking up at Professor Snape who was staring down at me. His dark eyes were piercing and his arms were now crossed over his chest. 

“You fell asleep Astrill…If you are going to be my assistant you need to keep yourself awake while you are grading parchment.” His voice was stern. 

I rubbed my eyes and let out a yawn, “I’m sorry Professor…It won’t happen again.” 

“See that it doesn’t…Now, go to bed. You are of no use to me half conscious.” 

“Yes, Professor.” I nodded, grabbing my things and scurrying quickly out of the Dungeons and to Gryffindor Tower.

[itisme-rosie]

-- relief; sirius black, marlene mckinnon, remus lupin x reader (separately) in an au where the war doesn't exist and everyone lives happily ever after and to be in your arms is the relief they need...

cw: fluff!! established relationships for all

masterlist | rules

[ sirius black ]

"you're pacing again," i admonish over my teacup, eyes flickering to the man walking to and fro in front of me, "it's making me feel dizzy just watching you,"

"then pace with me," comes his reply.

i scoff, lowering my teacup to its saucer, "what, and work myself up too which, in turn, will work you up even more? i think one panicky adult is enough in this situation, so i'll pass,"

"i'm not panicky," sirius pouts, pausing in his pacing to look at me sat comfortably on his couch.

"oh, but you are worked up,"

"i'm just worried,"

"sirius, harry is a good kid," i remind him, shifting in my seat, "you and james were the same - sneaking out at this time to spend time doing one thing or another with the rest of your friends, but regardless, he knows how to be safe, he'll be alright,"

my words seem to do nothing to ease his worries and i sigh, lowering my tea to the table, chewing on my lower lip.

"c'mere," i say softly, opening my arms and leaning back against the couch.

that make sirius stop in his tracks, eyes narrowed in confusion, "aren't you worried? what if something happens to him on our watch?"

"come here please," i say again, gesturing for him to come closer and he sighs, walking closer and holding onto my hands, tugging me to stand up before enveloping me in a tight hug and i hear him inhale deeply.

""he'll be fine, love," i murmur, "and of course, i'm worried," i say in a hushed tone, "but this is harry we're talking about, he knows how to protect himself - you, pads, moony, and lily made sure to teach him as much," i pat his head soothingly, "and if he's with ginny, then we really don't have anything to worry about, his parents may well have been expecting him to sneak out to see her,"

"but -"

"it's okay," i pull away to cup his face and pull him into a soft kiss, "have a little faith in him, yeah?"

he sighs deeply, thumbing over the back of my hand as i cupped his face, "yeah, you're right," he kisses my palm, sighing again so i tug him back to the sofa, allowing him to lay on top of me with his head on my chest, eyes finally shutting temporarily.

"rest," i kiss the top of his head, rubbing his back, "i'll wake you up when he gets back,"

[ marlene mckinnon ]

"you -" i glance up, meeting marlene's eyes for the briefest of moments before looking back at the pile of papers on my desk, "- should be asleep already, love, what are you -"

"no,"

i raise my eyebrow the same time my lip quirks up in a half-smile, "come now love, you were drinking for two last night, remember? it's gonna be a while before the hangover potion takes effect,"

she lets out a whine of protest as she makes her way to me, bare feet pitter-pattering against the wood and dropping her head against my shoulder, staying quiet for a while before speaking up again, "it's the weekend, isn't it?"

silence. only the scratching of my quill on the parchment filling the space between us and it takes an impatient tug on my shirt for me to answer with a clear of my throat - albeit a little hesitantly, "yes, it is,"

silence again.

"so why are you working?"

"because i want to get started on next week's load so we can go to that restaurant opening up in diagon alley, i know you'd hate to miss it and i, quite frankly, do not wish to work on that specific day, so i am trying to make up for it now,"

marlene lifts her head, dragging her lips to peck the crook of my neck before leaning her chin on my shoulder. if i focused enough, i could almost completely and perfectly visualize her expression at that very moment. eyebrows furrowed as she tried to make sense of the words on the paper, eyes squinted to limit the light entering her eyes as the sunlight of a new day enveloped my workspace, lips in a pout as she went over every possible option and deciding which one would most probably coax me into her arms.

reaching behind me, i lightly scratch at her scalp with my nondominant hand, not looking away from my work, "marls, honey, if your head still hurts, you should get back to bed, you need to rest - meaning more water and more sleep,"

"i do not need more sleep," she says in a half haughty voice, "i don't need more water, i need you,"

"is that so?" i muse.

"darling," my girlfriend starts warningly, swivelling my chair around til i faced her before sinking to the ground on her knees, wrapping her arms around my calves and leaning her head on my lap which prompted me to run my fingers through her hair with a growing smile, "i am very cross, very cranky, and, as you said..."

i could practically feel her roll her eyes and i smile.

"...in need of rest,"

silence.

"i know, i'm right,"

"and i wasn't finished," she scoffs, snuggling more against my side and sinking to sit on the back of her legs, "and you know how i say i always sleep better beside you, right? well, if you take a break right now, we both get what we want! you, getting me to rest, and me, getting to hold you! it's a win-win! whaddaya say?"

i let out a small half-scoff, half-laugh, lightly scratching her scalp before relenting, "alright," i sigh, laughing harder when her head shot up excitedly.

"really? you mean it?"

"yes, love," i duck my head to peck her lips, "as long as you drink water before we go to bed,"

i have never seen her stand and hobble out of my office to the kitchen that quickly and while hungover before.

[ remus lupin ]

this particular party was indeed very big.

a massive, extra-spectacular party no one else has and could ever pull off again - in the words of one mr. sirius black, of course. not that i could blame him for his flowery words, it was a particularly gruelling quidditch season and gryffindor had won against slytherin.

almost immediately as i entered, i was lost in the crowd of students, pulled away like a floatie out to sea far away from my boyfriend.

i had gotten lost in a conversation and a drink with one of my old friends from another house, and by the time i looked around for a familiar figure - a tall, lanky brunette sandwiched between his friends, i had lost him.

now, with his height, he was like a beacon, my beacon of salvation whenever i get lost in large crowds and it was easy enough to spot him. but when i saw james and sirius on top of a table, drunkenly singing to muggle bands, i knew remus must have retired already.

after all, in a party this big, it was quite easy to miss a few faces. not me, i would have never lost his face. so to the dorms i went, right over to the one he shared with his friends.

it was dark when i peeked in, save the light from a crack in their bathroom door streaming into the room and illuminating the semi-mess of a room the boys shared, so i walk in, shutting the door behind me before knocking on the bathroom door.

"come in," comes remus' voice.

"rem," i call for him softly, lips in a line, eyebrows furrowed in concern when i see him with his legs tucked against his chest in the bathtub. my dear, dear boyfriend sat fully clothed in the bathtub with one of those muggle music players beside him s he sheepishly looks up at me.

"tired already?" i ask softly, sitting on the edge beside him and rubbing his shoulder comfortingly.

"a little," he takes my hand to kiss my palm, "sorry 'bout leaving you out there, darling," he murmurs and i shake my head.

"it's alright," i smile a little wider when he kiss up my wrist, "the full moon is 'round the corner and you need to rest,"

tugging lightly on his hand, i attempt to help him stand but he protests, trying to tug me into the empty tub.

"love, it won't be comfortable for you," i say gently.

"just for a little while? please?" remus looks up at me with pleading eyes and i am weak-willed under the force of that stare, so i sigh, ducking to kiss his forehead.

"scoot up then, please,"

his eyes light up just a little, and i smile, kissing the scar on his cheek before sliding into the tub behind him so his back laid against my chest. his knees were bent, my legs were squished uncomfortably, but the weight of him on me, his warmth enveloping me made it all worth it.

i wrap my arms around his shoulders, patting his chest, right over his heart, while the other scratches lightly at his scalp and i start to hum, kissing his hair again.

"i love you," i whisper.

remus relaxes more in my embrace and i just knew he had that stupid, lovestruck grin on his face as whispered the endearment back. and that was alright, because i was smiling just the same way.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep4 Musings - Random (Spoilers)

IWTV's the type of show you need SEVERAL hours to unpaack--this is just the odds & ends I don't have as much to comment on. (I've queued five Ep4 musings for this evening, that are way more character/plot-heavy.)

Go AWF, Eglee! (Now I get why she lunged at Celeste like that--she was after Eglee's man!)

If someone don't get this Bilbo Baggins lookin arse ghoul TF off Louis' case--!

Sure, Mr. I Do Not Consider Myself Abused.

I hope they do, Louis, I'm not even joking. I'd love to see a whole new wave of TVC-based academia come out in AMC's wake. There's A LOT to chew on.

Get this pretty bish off my dang screeeeen.

At first I thought Daniel was referring to Lestat here, but Les isn't Lou's biographer. But I guess he meant because Les was commenting so much on everything in Louis' life at that time.

That cuck chair cost 10 million dollars, Armand.

I feel SO bad for him, if he didn't realize HOW MUCH Lestat was around--I KNOW Louis hallucinated Les while they were banging. 😬

😱

🤦

Daniel, you gigantic unmitigated MORON. 🤦 WHYYYYYYY would you reveal your hand like that?! This dude is SLIPPING. 😩

So Loumand kept dead victims saran-wrapped (bleh) in their flat, and let Daniel just stroll on in--"don't be afraid, just start the tape." No wonder Daniel called it a "dump."

Who's being reported missing/dead on the news? What's Armand mean by that being "enterprising/fascinating"? Daniel's penchant for following the scoop on gritty gory crimes?

But then Armand implied that in high school Daniel raped a girl and made her wear a paper bag over her head so he wouldn't have to look at her, not caring when she cried. 😱 And it was that "splinter of coldness in you" that made him fascinating to Armand. GOD. Anne Rice would be proud.

Louis look ready to reach over and wring Daniel's neck. 😅

Bienecke Library in New Haven is at Yale--they collect rare books & stuff. Lemme find out the Talamasca's posted up there. "Post-war reconstruction of Paris"--that's good, nice work, COLLECT YOURSELF.

Psst! I wouldn't touch that, knowing where it's been. 🤢🐀🐀🐀

Not this knockoff Lestat strutting around in housecoats. 😂

😨 I'm boycotting AMC & cancelling my AMC+ subscription.

So Loumand/Armand's art dealing was Louis' thing initially--I like it! He needs a job. I can imagine him at Sothebys or Christies or something.

If only Armand knew Florence told Louis "Don't come back, fragile son...." Louis and Marius both managed to capture the soul of Armand in art--I need to lay down.

THIS CREEP'S TRYNA STEAL ARMAND'S PHOTO! 😱 What a wanker! Literally! Dang, even in the 1940s Armand's not safe from pervs! 😩

Is this thievin pervin swindlin a-hole tryna warn MY Louis!?

(YES, actually, Louis; you DO.) Was it that Alois creep? Did Lou EVER have the correct photos? Is there a Talamasca mole in the archival staff? (Is it Rashid, LOL?) Or, god forbid, Alderman Fenwick was right all along (boo!): "You're a dumb pimp who got robbed blind years ago." A SPY'S afoot!

The jumpscares this episode are RELENTLESS! That startled me! 😅 And OUCH about the ageism. (NO ONE stood around clutching their pearls when Armand chokeslammed a little Black girl not THIRTY SECONDS AGO, but suddenly everyone's aghast that Armand hemmed up this old buffoon?!)

The SOUND I just made. XD

The coup's already happened--Loumand just doesn't know it yet. U_U

[hannibalzero]

I blame the Galactic Cruiser video by Jenny Nicholson.

Obikin, sith au.

Tw: mpreg

WIP

“Name?”

The woman in a empire uniform asked behind the desk in the west wing of the space port, chewing gum and looking incredibly board.

“Ben, Solo I suppose….I am divorced.” Obi-Wan looked up at the women checking his ticket. Fiddling with the hem of his dark blue poncho.

“It says here you are twenty eight weeks in a humoid pregnancy. Do you have your travel order from the healers?” She asked typing away, looking down at Obi-Wan through her red loftcat eyed styled glasses.

Holding up the slip of paper, Obi-Wan nodded. “Yes, I pose no threat to the Titan ecosystem, I am stable enough to travel.”

She quirked a brow reading the slip and typing in the information number. “You are cleared for space travel, all records clean. Welcome to the galactic cruiser.” She handed Obi-Wan his ticket back along with the documents he had provided. “Enjoy your flight.” She added.

“Y-yes thank you.” Obi-Wan quickly took his papers back and moved out of the way.

Getting off of Tatooine was stop priority, this planet was not safe for children nor himself.

Two newborn healthy children were considered valuable slaves, a nursing mother that birthed two healthy children? Priceless.

Since Obi-Wan was poor and alone, he was considered pray by the slavers. It had taken much of his abilities in the force to gamble and win the cruiser tickets without being noticed, it also came with a good amount of credits for himself to start a new home on Titan.

A small bag with a change of clothes and his knitting inside, Obi-Wan slung the duffle bag over his shoulders as he went to the boarding area.

Yes getting tickets for a cruise ship wasn’t ideal transportation but it was the best the ex- Jedi could do.

Since becoming pregnant, the Jedi he had fled the temple with had rejected Obi-Wan.

Seeing how Obi-Wan had broken his vows no longer made Obi-Wan Kenobi a Jedi knight. Thus shunning him from the small group of survivors. Forced to make it on Tatooine alone.

The truth wasn't that black and white.

At the end of the Clone Wars, almost seven months ago. Weary, lonely and tipsy. The duties of a general and the stress of war, caught up to Obi-Wan.

There was a celebration for the end of the war, a lively party where drinks flowed. Obi-Wan ended up in the arms of one Anakin Skywalker.

The chosen one, the Jedi with no fear, the one to bring balance to the force.

Made love to Obi-Wan Kenobi.

He wasn't even being foolish, that's what Anakin had called it.

Saying such sweet words….

What bothered Obi-Wan, was that he himself was sterilized. All Jedi were. An implant in the back of his neck stopped all reproduction processes.

Yet how did he?

Obi-Wan rubbed his large belly, and a hard kick brought the stewjoni male out of his thoughts.

Master Skywalker's children were large, strong and demanding on Obi-Wan’s poor body. His chest had swollen to that of a mother's, his belly large and destinded.

Obi-Wan should feel ashamed about the state of his body but, all he felt was love for it. He loved his generous chest, how beautifully his belly proudly hung. Made him feel full of life, full of the force’s blessing.

it had to be a blessing, considering how impossable his current state was.

a chim rang out through the boarding area, signaling that boarding had started.

[lilacella]

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

Reindeer Games

Previous Next

Chapter 2/5: Third Year

"Can you two tone it down a little, please? I'm really tired," Remus mumbled in his pillow. It was already past midnight but Sirius and James weren't ready for sleep yet. There was so much to do, so much to plan!

They had just gotten the map to finally work! Well, at least it was moving now. The accuracy of the marker positions still had room for improvement - people seemed to be walking straight through the walls, sometimes at unreasonable speeds - but overall it was syncing with the castle. It had taken them two years and many late night trips into the forbidden section to do this and they were very proud of themselves. Of course Remus and Peter had helped, but the intricate magic at the core of the map had been their work.

"Oh come on Remus..." James complained.

"Sorry but I really need to rest. Can't you just continue this tomorrow?"

That wasn't an option at all. So instead Sirius decided to pull James from the floor over to his bed:

"Just come over, James. We can close the curtains and use a muffling spell."

There they were laying now, on their stomachs, shoulder on shoulder peering onto the map. Sirius chewed absentmindedly on his lip.

"We should protect it somehow. What if someone catches us with it and takes it? We'd loose all our work!"

James nodded in agreement.

"We need a password. Like the Portals to the houses. It should stay obscured until you say it."

"Hmmm...what should we take though? It would be an issue if we forgot it."

"It should have a meaning for us." James leaned a little against Sirius, eliciting the familiar tingle on his skin that he always felt when they were touching. It was nice being so close to James.

James squinted his eyes.

"Maybe an oath? Like...I solemnly swear that I..."

"Am up to no good," completed Sirius with a giggle that James joined immediately.

"Yes, that's perfect, let's go with that. If the others have a better idea we can always change it. Let me do it."

James pulled the map towards himself and started casting charms onto the thick paper. Sirius put his head onto his crossed arms and watched him. He liked watching James practice magic. He was good at it. Something about the way he uttered the words and how his face looked when he concentrated made Sirius feel warm and fuzzy. James really was his best friend.

They spend some more time tinkering with the map but, as time passed, both of them became more quiet. Sirius was awfully tired. But he didn't want James to go yet, didn't want to give up the casual intimacy of sharing a bed, a space where it was just the two of them.

Both of them had now fully laid down, sharing Sirius' pillow and duvet. It was starting to get a little chilly with the December air permeating the walls of the castle. They weren't really talking anymore, just looking at each other, every once in a while one of them would crack a stupid joke, making the other break out into a sleepy giggle.

"I'm so tired," James mumbled. "But I don't want to leave. It's so comfortable."

Sirius smiled into the pillow.

"I mean, if you want, you can just stay here."

"You sure?" James asked, eyes already closed. Sirius reached out to remove his glasses.

"Sure. Bed's big enough for both of us 'innit?"

James made an affirmative noise and soon his breathing evened out and he was fast asleep.

Sirius wanted to do nothing more than join him in his peaceful slumber, but he couldn't. It wasn't because he wasn't comfortable. He really was. James was warm and he smelled good and Sirius didn't mind that they were touching a little. It was rather that his heart just wouldn't calm down. Maybe he had gotten too excited about the map? Or maybe he was freaked out by the dark. That happened sometimes, although he didn't really feel scared right now. Still, he shuffled a little closer to James, just in case it helped. It didn't really. But being close to James was nice. It was really nice. Sirius caught himself wishing that James would always sleep next to him.

And, from now on, James did. Not every night, but often enough, the two of them fell asleep sharing one of their four-posters. It was just more convenient like that, they told the others: They could stay up and talk as long as they wanted, without getting on Remus nerves and it was more comfortable than their usual corner on the dorm room floor. Wrapped up in the same duvet, and sometimes in each others arms - in a small bed you had to somehow organize yourselves - talking and snickering until they both drifted off to sleep. Sirius secretely loved it when James threw an arm around him in his sleep or moved his head onto his chest. He liked touching him. And there was nothing wrong with that. They were just good friends sharing a bed.

In general, Sirius wasn't much of a fan of other people touching him. He despised people that tapped his back with their finger to gain his attention. He didn't like it, when someone randomly put their hand on his shoulder while they talked. He didn't appreciate people hugging him when he was upset - it only made things worse.

Touch had always been something he viewed as a massive breach of boundaries. At home, there was none of it. Sirius couldn't remember that his parents had ever hugged him. He wasn't even sure if they had carried him as a baby since he remembered that his younger brother Regulus had always been either pushed around in his cradle or carried by their houself Kreacher. When his parents touched him, it was about control. His father would put a hand on his shoulder to steer him into the direction he wanted him to go. His mother would grab his arm to keep him into place, grab his chin to force him to look at her.

So, Sirius didn't like being touched. And James liked touching. A recipe for desaster, one would think, but with James everything was different. When James had hugged him in the bathroom in first year, it hadn't felt overwhelming, restricting or otherwise unpleasant. It had felt safe. When James grabbed his arm to excitedly pull him towards the Quidditch field on game days it felt nice. When James casually wrapped an arm around him when they sat together, Sirius melted into his touch, reveling in the warmth of James' body. So maybe he liked being touched, but only by James.

And with their new co-sleeping habit further normalizing their physical closeness, James reached out for Sirius more and more.

"There aren't any more seats," James says as he squeezes with Sirius onto a single armchair in the common room ending up almost sitting on his lap.

"I just need something to figet with," James explains to Remus, who watches questioningly how James is playing with Sirius hand while they are talking, absentmindedly brushing his fingers over his or pushing his hand up Sirius' sleeves, touching his arm.

"I'm just tired," Sirius says as he drops his head onto James shoulder when they sit together in the library.

"All the girls do this too," James says, when some of his Quidditch teammates give him weird looks for holding Sirius' hand on the way to class.

"It's cold!" Sirius says when James and him snuggle up together under a blanket, while they plot the next prank with the other two.

"Do you think this is weird," James asked as they both lounged on Sirius bed again. James head was resting on Sirius chest, looking up to him, Sirius was drawing circles on James arm with his finger.

"Why? Do you think it is?" Sirius tried to hide the uncertainty in his voice.

"No. I think...I think were just friends. And there is nothing wrong with friends...well we're just hanging out aren't we?"

Sirius nodded.

"Yeah. Why would there be something wrong with that?"

James smiled and sighed comfortably. Then he reached out for Sirius hand and intertwined their fingers. Sirius wondered whether James could hear his heartbeat speed up. But if he did, he didn't say anything.

When summer rolled around, Sirius had gotten so used to constantly touching James that the thought of spending two whole months without him seemed much more daunting than it usually had been anyways. On the last night before the ride home they were laying in James four-poster, tightly snuggled up against each other. James had tucked Sirius in his arms and was playing with his fingers.

"I will miss you," Sirius said quietly, feeling awfully heavy. James squeezed his hand.

"I will miss you too. It really sucks that your parents won't let us meet."

Sirius sighed and pressed his cheek against James' shoulder. He could feel tears burn in his eyes. He really didn't want to go home. He wanted to stay here with James. He also didn't want to cry, but with James it was so easy.

James immediately picked up on his sadness and hugged him tighter.

"It's okay. We'll just talk through the mirrors!"

Sirius sniffled and nodded. The mirrors. At least they would be able to see each other this time.

"I just hope my parents won't catch me with it. They'll definitely take it away."

"But couldn't you just make a new one? You made these yourself, didn't you?"

"Yes but I'm not sure how long it would take. It's a pretty finicky spell. And I would have to make a new pair. So I wouldn't be able to call you until I'd given you the other..." His voice trailed off at the thought. A tear trickled down his cheek. He needed James.

**

"We have to talk quietly," Sirius whispered into the mirror. "Otherwise Regulus might hear and then he certainly will tell mother."

"Okay," James responded with a hushed voice. Sirius smiled. These little talks with James every night, hidden underneath the covers in case someone came in, the only light coming from his wand, were the only thing that kept him afloat during the long days at Grimmauld Place 13. He hated this house. It was dark and narrow and always felt cold despite the many fireplaces. From everywhere the portraits were watching you. Sirius had long stopped feeling at home here. Sometimes he just wanted to run away.

"What did you do today," he asked James. James detailed reports about his fun summer activities always cheered him up. The more James talked, the more it felt like he had been with him. When James had finished he leaned his head onto his hands.

"And you? What did you do today?"

Sirius sighed heavily.

"Not much. Hid in the library most of the day. Regulus had his awful friends over."

"Crouch and Rosier? Can't you just hex them?"

Sirius shook his head.

"I mean...I could, but this is isn't Hogwarts. There is only one person who could have done it in this house and...I just want to get through this bloody summer." Sirius dropped his head onto his arms. He missed James painfully.

"Right. Get it. But it's just five more weeks," James tried to cheer him up unsuccessfully.

"That's so long! I wish I could just drink a potion and sleep through it."

"I don't think that would be healthy."

Sirius shrugged. He didn't care about that.

"I just wish you were here. Or I was with you."

"Yeah that would be nice. I miss...I miss you. Maybe we should have exchanged sweaters or something, so we'd have something of each other."

Sirius heart skipped a beat at James' words.

"We could do that next summer." He paused and rubbed his eyes. "Merlin, I'm so tired."

"Do you want to stop talking?"

Sirius hesitated for a moment.

"Can you...Can you maybe just stay a little. Until I have fallen asleep? Just tell me something. About Quidditch or whatever you want..."

"Yes. Sure I can do that. Sooo...brooms! Did you know they are making a new Cloudsweeper? It's supposed to be twice as fast as the Dragoncatcher 79 Pro..."

Sirius leaned the mirror against a book, still under the blanket and got cozy. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off, the comforting sound of James voice lulling him to sleep. He couldn't wait for September.

[faireprina]

A Love Like no Other ❤️ Pt 2

a/n : Part 2 is uppp!! Woohooo!!!! I’m working on more content.

Pairings: Aged Up! Killua Zoldyck x OC/Reader

Warnings: mentions of death

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

What the actual hell…

All Mei could do was sit here and look dumb.  Or cute? Dumb cute? cute dumb? Or how about just dumb and cute! The room on the other hand wasn’t cute at all. Dragons on the walls, engraved in the chairs, statues of dragons! Good God this family loves their dragons! I don’t want any part of it. 

Mei has never felt so uncomfortable in her life! The dragons on top of the cold atmosphere were unsettling. First off was this even a room? It felt more like a cellar to Mei. What’s up with the chains and all these dragon heads?

Although, she doesn’t think the 4 individuals sitting across from her would think the same thing. A woman who is wearing very expensive looking Victorian style clothes with a visor on. Looks like she came out of some sci-fi historic movie. A man with black short hair, glasses and in a suit. A child with a kimono on and the white haired boy from before. 

Mei was pretty surprised when she walked though the door and seen him with this group of people. He just stared at her and glared. Understandable sir, Imll just crawl under my bed and won’t come out til next year! Or better yet, I’LL JUST FIND MY WAY BACK TO MY WOLRD!! 

Mei wanted to cry, but now isn’t the time for crying she can worry about that later down the line. Crying < Surviving. 

“Your name is…,” Mei couldn’t tell where the woman was looking at due to the visor.

“Mei! My name is Mei Delaney!” 

“And you don’t have any documentation on you whatsoever, why is that?” The woman’s asked in a suspicious tone.

Mei did not have any an actual answer for this question. She didn’t do any preparing at all for it. So just like her daddy said, FAKE IT TIL YOU MAKE IT! “I’m actually an orphan.”

“An orphan?”

“Yes, an orphan,” It’s not like I’m telling a lie, “I’m sorry is the paper work required?” Will I not be getting a job today?

“No it is not and it is very much preferred!” Her pen scratched in the paper as she wrote some words down. Ew, why is the pen dragon shaped?!?! “Have you had any prior experiences as a butler?”

“Nope!” Unless you count being a slave to your grandparents as one! “Never been one before but I’ve cleaned.”

“Cleaning isn’t all that you will be doing,” It isn’t? What else do butlers do in this world?!?, “What would you say your current level of strength is?”

Mei wouldn’t know how to classify herself. This world’s average could be her worlds above average. Just to be safe,”I would say below average!” 

The man and the white haired boy squinted at her. It was like they were evaluating her to see if she was as weak as she let on. 

“Hmmm,” the woman chewed her ugly dragon headed pen, “Not the best but you are still trainable. I’ll put you in as a cook. Your job will to prepare our meals while also help around the kitchen. You are not a butler just yet you but you can call yourself a butler’s apprentice. Gotiah send her off to the facility!”

Facility?? Wait don’t I get to ask questions?

Before Mei could say a word she is already being escorted out the room.

———————————————————————

It’s her. So far all the applicants were below average, the Zoldyck trainers had their work cut out for them. Killua didn’t think any were going to make it past the first trial, especially her! 

15 days…

She doesn’t know what it really means to be a Zoldyck butler. Hell, she wouldn’t even know what it means to be a Zoldyck! Her and her sunny disposition doesn’t belong here in this world of death and darkness. She looked so gentle and sweet, he wanted to see the light die in her.

———————————————————————

At least I’m not in the ugly ass room anymore. The walk to the facility felt like a hike up the Appalachian trails and Mei was not exaggerating. She suspected that they were prolonging the walk by taking unnecessary paths and picking the toughest ground to walk on. Mai wasn’t sure how much she could take of this especially with this oversized bag on her back. She knew she should’ve packed less. The 2 men she was walking with didn’t even seem to be phased!!

Luckily for Mei she could see the building coming into view and sure enough it was as big as the cellar building. I wonder how big the mansion is, if this is what this building looks like…

Mel could see the other applicants who passed before her. They were all waiting with their belongings. Mei threw her bag down, thanking whatever diety this world worshipped.

 “Yₒᵤ’ᵣₑ Wₑₗcₒₘₑ,” A voice whispered in Mei’s head!

“WHAT?!” That was way louder than what Mei intended it to be as everyone looked at her giving her a confusing look. “Sorry…” Mei was embarrassed now, but WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT VOICE! She hopes transporting to this world hasn’t made her crazy. Dealing with a genetic mutation would make things a lot worse for her.

“You will leave your stuff here and someone will be back with yours shortly.” The 2 butlers she traveled with walked away and disappeared. 

Uh woah?

————————————————————

The sun was beginning to set after some time has passed and others have joined them sitting outside. Mei would say there is about 250 of the 400 that showed up at the moment.

“I heard some people were losing as applicants but were actually hunters looking to capture a Zoldyck or get on their property.” 

“I seen the dead bodies! When I did my interview there were a few piled up on each other. This family is serious!”

Ew gross! Mei was made uncomfortable by the conversations around her about death, and how a single picture of a family member was worth $300 million Jenny (She assumes Jenny is the equivalent to dollars in this world).

SSSCCCHREEEECHHHHH

The huge door opened up and out walked a tall lady with her hair in pigtails. She was pretty buff and looked like she could kill Mei even at her old age.

“Looks like everyone is here that’s has made it through! Let’s get started!”

Oh no…

[finn-m-corvex]

Whumptober Day 18: Hunting

Day 18! And using a substitue prompt just because I thought that it would be easier at first and then it most definitely was not easier. This one is kinda wonky, but I didn't really know how to fix it so, meh. Here it is! Also movie-verse because yes even though there's a lot less of it in this batch than there was in the last one.

Taglist: @splinnters @abigailxoxo @tornoleander @mondothebombo @ghostwalloper @toastingpencils37 @lightning-chicken

Words: 2.4k

He didn’t know why he woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, but he could already tell that it was going to be a bad day.

Jay didn’t realize how much he had been running his hands through his hair until he started to get dressed for school, and he flinched from the whiplash of feeling the softness of his hair to the grossest sweater known to mankind. Suppressing the inner urge to gag, Jay ran his hand along everything hanging in his closet, finally finding a shirt that didn’t make him want to jump into the ocean. Putting it on made him cringe, and he whipped around when he felt eyes staring at him from the open closet door.

But there was nothing there.

It was going to be one of those days.

Anxiety was something that he somehow coped with every day and yet could never quite overcome. He was tense as he ate his breakfast, waiting for his pa to whack him with his newspaper or his mom to take away his cereal or someone else to come breaking through the window or for Garmadon to attack—

“Kiddo?” Pa said, putting down his paper. Jay flinched when a hand landed on his back, and Pa pulled his hand away. “Is something wrong?”

“Bad day,” Jay said softly, shoving his cereal away and laying his head on his crossed arms. Guilt flooded his stomach and made him feel sick, and he wanted his pa’s hand back.

Ma looked up from where she was washing the dishes, a worried frown on her face. “Are you sure that you should go to school today, honey?”

Even if his anxiety made him feel like he was being hunted for sport, the thought of staying home and being alone made him feel even worse. “I’m sure. I’ll be okay, Ma.”

“Is touch okay?” Pa asked, and Jay picked his head up.

“Yeah, Pa. Can I have a hug, please?”

“Of course, kiddo,” and Jay finally relaxed when he felt his father’s strong arms surround him, warm and solid and smelling of the motor oil that never failed to make him feel safe. Pa squeezed, and Jay got out of his chair to give his dad a proper hug. He was almost as tall as Pa, the perfect height to rest his head on his dad’s shoulder, feeling the soft flannel under his cheek. “Is that better?”

“Better,” Jay confirmed, wishing that he could just stay like this for the rest of the day, but his dad did still have to go to work. “I think I missed the bus, though.”

“That’s alright,” Ma reassured, her voice washing over him like honey, “I’ll take you today, since Ed’s gotta get to work early. Are you all ready to go?”

Jay picked up his backpack after breaking off the hug, turning around to face his mom. “I’m ready!”

The drive to school put him more at ease, even though nobody texted him back when he dropped a message in the groupchat saying that he would be late. Normally Zane would be the first one to text back, scarily fast for someone who insisted that everyone put their phones away during class, but even he was silent. Jay chewed on his lip for a while, trying to let his mom’s reassurances help him feel better. Maybe they just got their phones taken away, or they were doing something super important in class. It wouldn’t be the first time.

Gently taking his hands from where they had been worrying at the hem of his shirt, Ma kissed his forehead. “Have a good day at school, dear. Remember to call me or your dad if you need to get picked up early.”

“I will, Ma,” he promised, even though he had no intention of burdening his parents like that. And just like that, watching their car pull away from the school and back down the road, all of the pent-up feelings inside of him burst like a balloon.

There was nothing to protect him out here, and he clutched his orange scarf as he walked down the hall to the secretary’s office. Normally the object would’ve brought him some sense of comfort, but now it only made him more nervous, feeling like someone was going to pop out and take it from him. He didn’t have his friends there to protect him; if he was jumped, then he was fucked.

Shadows seemed to stretch from the floor to the ceiling despite the morning sun, and he flinched every time he heard the squeak of a locker or footsteps in another hall. He kept his head down, feeling the tingle indicating that people were staring as he walked past. Focusing on the floor tiles didn’t help the impending nausea, and Jay focused on the rhythm of his footsteps to keep from vomiting all over the hallway. First period was just letting out, the cacophony of voices and shoes squeaking grating on his ears, and Jay hurried to make it to the office as fast as he could.

“I’m here,” he said as he entered the room, and the secretary looked at him with such a scathing look that Jay flinched back. “I-I know I’m late—”

“Mr. Walker,” she said harshly, and Jay felt the pit in his stomach grow even wider, “what is your excuse this time?”

“I missed the bus—”

She waved him off and handed him the late note, which he quickly took before scurrying away. Some of the other kids were snickering in his direction and he flushed, making a beeline for his locker down the next hall.

To his relief, everyone else was already standing there, chatting away like they didn’t even notice he was gone. Jay’s heart sank and he visibly wilted as he approached, not noticing the footsteps following along behind him change as a person hid in the other hallway: out of sight, out of mind.

Cole greeted him as he walked up, turning away from Kai and pulling his headphones down. The gesture made Jay feel a little better, and he thanked Cole quietly as the older boy went ahead and opened Jay’s locker for him. He leaned into Cole’s side as he rearranged his books, taking the stuff out of his bag and putting it in its proper place. It was calming, and his hands rejoiced at finally having something to do other than picking at the loose threads in his sleeves.

His lack of talking didn’t go unnoticed for very long. “Are you alright?” Cole asked, raising an eyebrow at Jay’s shrug. Jay didn’t really feel like talking, but he didn’t want to leave Cole waiting for an answer either.

“Did you see my text?” he asked, and Cole fished out his phone to check. So he hadn’t. Jay didn’t know how to feel about that. Part of him had been hoping that Cole had read the text, had been mulling Jay’s absence over in the back of his mind and feeling sad that he wasn’t there.

Was Jay a terrible person for thinking that? Probably.

“Jay!” Nya exclaimed, rushing over to wrap him in a big hug. “We missed you! What happened?”

“H-Hey Nya,” he stammered, blushing as he returned her hug. “I just woke up late and missed the bus, that’s all.”

He must’ve not been doing a good job at hiding his anxiety, because Nya pulled back and looked him up and down. “Are you sure you’re okay? I saw your text, and it’s not like you to be late.”

“I’m sure,” he lied, swallowing thickly and pushing his anxiety down as far as he could. She couldn’t know how antsy he was feeling, how deep the pit in his stomach was when he thought about how his absence hadn’t affected them in the slightest. “How was first period?”

And that was that. She walked with him to biology, bidding the others a quick goodbye that Jay quickly replicated before catching up to her. For someone who was a good five inches smaller than him, Nya had a very wide stride. He listened as she talked about her math class, describing the inverse functions and graphing equations they had to learn about, her tone as excited as it could get when it was describing her least favorite subject.

“I think I’m going to struggle with this unit,” she sighed, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. Jay wanted to do it for her. “Which, you know, I know I struggle with all of them, but I think this one is going to give me a run for my money.”

“Do you want me to help?” Jay asked; he was already in an accelerated math class, so he was pretty sure he could handle whatever she threw at him.

Neither of them turned around to see the figures trailing behind them in the shadows, too caught up in paying attention to each other.

Until Jay felt the eyes on the back of his head again.

Hairs rose along the back of his neck as he whipped around, staring down the hall and taking in every available detail. It felt like someone had electrified his senses, and his eyes zeroed in on a leg disappearing around the corner. Someone was there, following them. And it wasn’t one of the guys.

Now that he was paying attention, this hallway was oddly desered for nine in the morning. Where was everybody?

“...and I’m sure that you would be a great tutor,” Nya was saying, stopping when she noticed that he had stopped walking. Turning to look at him, she raised an eyebrow at the way his face tightened with worry, pivoting on his heel and walking down the hall. 

“Keep walking,” he hissed, and she did so, even though Jay always made sure to keep his footsteps a beat behind hers.

Concentrating, Jay ignored the way she shot worried looks back at him, only focused on noticing anything behind them. Just as he thought, there were footsteps, multiple sets of them and hard and heavy against the tile. He should’ve noticed them before. Someone was hunting them.

Eyes widening, Nya finally saw the people behind them, while Jay doggedly kept his eyes looking straight ahead as he pulled out his phone. Quickly dialling Cole’s number, his anxiety started spiking, oscillating back and forth like an out-of-control metronome. The mental school map floated around in his head, and Jay traced around the routes until he found one that should lead them back closer to the crowds. Biology could wait until he was sure that Nya was safe.

Honestly, Nya was not the one that needed protecting here, but that was beside the point.

“Left,” he whispered, already making the turn and slowing so Nya could catch up. They both sped up, Nya having long given up on trying to ask him any questions, and Jay’s heart stopped beating when they walked straight into a dead end.

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit—

“What do we have here?” said a voice behind them, and both of them whirled around to see Chen the Cheerleader standing in all of his pompish glory. Two lackeys flanked him on either side, devilish grins on thier faces as they snarled; they were wolves hungry for their next meal.

Jay instinctively threw his hand out in front of Nya, even though the limb was trembling. “What do you want, Chen?”

Said boy snorted. “Wouldn’t you like to know, junkyard boy?”

“You better scram before I rearrange your face, Chen,” Nya growled, pushing against Jay’s arm to try and get past him. Jay locked his arm, determined to keep her back, but unfortunately that just left him wide open to an attack from the front.

A baseball bat collided straight with his head, making his vision go dark as he collapsed onto the ground. Nya tried to catch him before he hit the ground, but his sleeve slipped through her grasp and his head was crashing into the tile. Disoriented, he laid there on the ground and tried to get his bearings, but that was hard with a blossoming pain on the side of his head and the trickle of warm blood making its way down his temple.

The bullies were gone; they must’ve gotten spooked after seeing him go down like a sack of bricks. Nya was tilting his head up, and the anxiety that he had been bottling finally spilled over the edge as his eyes failed to focus on her face. Her touch was gentle as she helped him to sit up, looking over him and trying to find the spot where the bat had gotten him.

“I lied,” he gasped, clutching at her arm, “I lied, I’m not okay, I’m not okay and I’m sad and I can’t breathe and you guys didn’t miss me and I want to go home—”

“Jay,” she said quietly, closing his mouth with a soft click with a finger under his chin. Tears started to go down his cheeks as his chest constricted with emotion, and he hated the way his lip started wobbling, “you’re okay. It’s okay. I’m gonna call your parents to come and get you, but until they get here we’re just gonna stay right here on the floor.”

“B-But what about your class?”

“You’re more important than class,” she said, “besides, you already know that I would take hanging out with you over going to biology any day.”

“I’m sorry for lying,” and Jay was surprised to see Nya smiling at him, because normally she didn’t tolerate liars under any circumstances. Maybe he was a special one.

“Honey, I could already tell,” Nya said, and Jay felt his heart sink, “I just didn’t say anything because I figured if you wanted me to know, you would’ve told me. I know enough about you to tell when you’re upset.”

“So you’re not upset?”

Nya sighed, and Jay missed the warmth of her hand when she pulled it away. “I’m not upset. I wish you would’ve told me, but I’m not upset. Now, did you say you would be willing to tutor me in math, or do I need to ask Zane?”

He chuckled. “I can do that, I think, as long as you don’t mind stopping for milkshakes afterwards.”

It didn’t even occur to him until much later that he had just asked her on something similar to a date.

[patchworkgargoyle]

Editor Eddie

Did I write this solely because of the pun? Yes. It was, however, inspired by me wearing my Hellfire shirt and getting ready to sit down and beta a Steddie fic, as well as @inairbinad's Petals in a Storm (which people should go read).

Anyway, here's some extremely fluffy and domestic older!Steddie, with Eddie as a genre fiction/horror editor, in 735 words! Extremely brief and vague mention of a monster eating something's guts.

---

Red-marked pages lay scattered everywhere, solely illuminated by the hulking, faintly buzzing computer monitor that took up a good half of Eddie’s desk. Lips pursed and eyes narrowed, he held up a sheaf of papers with one hand, the other holding his pen to his mouth while he gnawed on the end. He distantly thought that if he kept chewing the pen might break and he’d look much like the monster currently being described in the chapter before him, red dripping down its chin. It was the third time the author had used the word ‘viscera’ in the same paragraph, and while pens didn’t have guts he knew that the ink would probably taste just as bad as that would. But as the monster was, apparently, ‘gleefully gorging’ on the aforementioned viscera, it probably wouldn’t agree.

He put the pages back down on the pile in front of him and scribbled out a few notes – “less viscera, more… entrails, gore, innards perhaps!” – then hunched over the words to continue reading about how the creature turned its horrifying visage towards the protagonist.

Editing was, mostly, the best job Eddie's ever had. Sure, it could be a slog to wade through a sea of purple literary prose or a desert of adjective-less, action-less nonfiction. Those were part of the job (though he’d grown enough to admit that sometimes he found gems even outside his beloved genre fiction tastes), and something he had to endure before he could climb his way to the fiction department. This, though, a carnage-filled horror romp? This was his bread and butter, his home away from home, his shit. Hell, it had been his life once upon a time. Getting to help up-and-coming authors improve their craft with his own love of storytelling and his lived, horrific experiences was awesome. It was one of the things that made March of ‘86 worth the terror and pain and scars.

Eddie was still slouched over the chapter, making note of a few misspellings, and so fully absorbed in his work that he didn’t hear the door to the office creak open. Hadn’t even heard the knock that preceded it. What he did notice was the plate being slid directly on top of the paper, a flaky croissant placed right in the centre, and Eddie suddenly realised he was really fucking hungry.

“How’s my favourite Eddie-tor doing?” Steve asked.

Eddie’s head fell back with the weight of the agony the pun caused and heard a few vertebrae pop. Glaring, he said, “That pun wasn’t funny the first fifty times you said it, sweetheart.”

“I haven’t said it that much.” Despite his defensiveness, Steve still looked entirely too amused at himself, smirking down at Eddie. The hallway light backlit him, casting him in a near halo of soft warmth, contrasted by the pale glare of the computer screen that highlighted his face and caught on the few grey hairs beginning to show. 

Steve was gorgeous still, maybe even more so after over two decades together. Worry lines and laugh lines alike brought a kind of charm and dignity to his face, and just the sight of those silvery strands in his hair always got Eddie feeling emotional. They were proof they’d survived. That it was over. That they could grow old, safely and with each other. He called them mithril just to see Steve’s nose scrunch and eyes roll at his references. 

“Okay,” Eddie conceded, “maybe just forty times.”

Though he scoffed, Steve stepped closer and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “You’ve been locked away in here for five hours, babe, you should get up and stretch. Or at least turn on the light.”

“But overhead lights are the work of the devil, Steve, you know this. I can’t work under those conditions.” Eddie gave a shit-eating grin as Steve, with a deadpan expression, flicked on his desk lamp. “Oh yeah. Forgot that was there.” He had. Really.

“You’re so annoying,” Steve sighed, but Eddie saw the smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You love it.”

The smile spread like the affection in Eddie’s chest at the sight. Steve bent down again, this time capturing Eddie’s lips in a sweet, slow, familiar kiss that made his toes curl just as much as any hungry, needy kiss would. Barely pulling back, Steve whispered, “Yeah. I do.”