#I made the latter a few days ago and only finished it today

[rununcal]

Ehehaha. Hehe.

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 1)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 8081 CW: Shitty boyfriends, angst, fluff, slow burn.

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

Part Two Part Three

After another day of having your feelings totally ignored by your boyfriend, you were looking forward to some alone time. Elijah was so hot and cold that you felt as though you were in a constant state of fight or flight, just waiting for him to either make your day or ruin it completely. Most of the time, it was the latter, and although good days with him were few and far between, they were enough to make you stay. See, you didn’t half-ass anything—least of all relationships—so when you were in something, you were in it. You told Elijah that much after your first date. You’d been sitting in the front of his beemer eating ice cream, having the first of many deep talks. Between sweet, sticky kisses, you’d told him that you were dating to marry. He told you he was, too. 

He said, ‘I’m yours if you’ll have me, Y/N.’ And that was that.

And it was almost a year ago. You’d survived a somewhat tumultuous winter with him, desperately trying to cling on to the version of him he’d been during the summer. As time went on, he stopped putting his mask on, secure enough in your relationship that he no longer felt the need to pretend to be caring and considerate. The days were starting to get longer, and the weather was warming up again, but Elijah was so far from the man he was at the start that you might as well have been in a relationship with a different person. Every morning, you woke up with no idea what personality to expect that day, whether or not he was going to take all his personal drama out on you, even though you only ever loved and supported him. 

Today had been one of those days, and as you finished up with the F-18 engine currently in pieces in front of you, you silently prayed that he wouldn’t text you asking to come over. He was also a naval aviator, but you were working on different parts of the base today. Thank God. Elijah’s callsign was Viper, fitting since vipers prey on small animals by envenomating them and watching them die slowly. 

Coyote appeared behind you, helmet tucked underneath his arm.

‘Hey, we’re all heading to The Hard Deck for beers,’ he told you. ‘You comin’?’ You grabbed a rag and made an attempt to wipe some of the oil off. ‘I don’t know,’ you sighed. ‘I want to, but then I’ll have to bring Elijah, and I don’t really wanna see him tonight.’ ‘Why do you have to bring him?’ Coyote frowned. ‘He’s a lousy drunk and never lets you have any fun.’ ‘If he finds out I went out with all you guys, he’ll think I’m up to something.’ ‘Like gettin’ with me?’ He joked, wiggling his eyebrows. ‘Probably,’ you laughed. ‘You or one of the others. Or maybe he’ll accuse me of getting with all of you if he’s in a particularly bad mood.’ ‘Listen, if you wanna come, you’re welcome. We’ll just make sure nobody posts about it, and we’ll get you a fake moustache or somethin’.’

It broke your heart to think about all your closest friends having a fun night without you. Over the past year, you’d lost count of the amount of experiences you’d missed out on because you didn’t want to make Elijah upset or angry with you. The worst part was it was a double standard. He went out without you all the time, didn’t tell you where he’d gone or who he was with, and expected you to be okay with it. If you weren’t, you could kiss your peace goodbye; he’d spend the next week making your life a living hell, ignoring you entirely until you apologised to him for being hurt by his actions.

‘You know what Javy? Count me in.’ He grinned. ‘Thatta girl.’ 

It was hard to regret coming out when you felt this good. It had been months since you’d gone on a night out without Elijah, which was to say it had been months since you last enjoyed yourself. As you sipped your second sex on the beach, you mused that some kind of higher power must have been looking out for you because you’d yet to receive a single text from your boyfriend. Most of the time, when you spent the night apart, he’d call you incessantly. It was annoying, sometimes bordering on obsessive, and you didn’t need him to tell you he was checking on you, or rather, checking that you were alone in your apartment. That much was obvious. 

Dating an insecure man was not for the weak.

You were sat at one of the high tables next to the window watching Jake, Mickey, Javy, and Reuben play pool. Nat was opposite nursing a beer, glowing in the golden light of the evening. Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up, smiling at the notification. 

‘Rooster’s on his way,’ she told you. ‘He wasn’t gonna come out tonight, but I told him he didn’t have a choice. It’s not every day Y/N Y/L/N leaves the comfort of her apartment.’ You scoffed. ‘That’s not exactly how I’d put it.’ ‘No?’ Nat raised a brow. 

You hadn’t drunk in months, and despite only being on your second drink, the booze had loosened your lips significantly. 

‘No. It’s not that I’d rather stay home, it’s that staying home makes my life easier because then I don’t have Elijah breathing down my fucking neck.’

Little did you know, Javy had told everyone about your conversation earlier. Not because he was a gossip but because he was worried about you. It was rare for you to open up to the squad about your relationship, but it wasn’t hard to guess what happened behind closed doors. They all worked with Viper, for one, and they were familiar with his temperament. Not only that, but you dropped off the face of the Earth a few months after you started dating him, and it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. 

‘I don’t know why you’re still with him, Y/N. He’s an ass.’ ‘I know,’ you sighed, frowning into your drink. ‘It’s just not as straightforward as just leaving. I still love him. If I can make this work, I don’t have to start all over again with someone else.’ Nat nodded in understanding. ‘I get wanting to make it work, but at what cost? You don’t see your friends, and he uses you as an emotional punching bag. You can’t even come to the beach with us without him checking on you every five minutes,’ she reached over the table and took your hand. ‘He’s killing you.’

This was the first time someone had spoken their mind to you about the situation. While you already knew all of it, hearing it from one of your best friends hit home. Vodka made you emotional, and if not for Bradley, you would have broken down there and then. 

He walked up to the table and engulfed you in a hug, practically pulling you off your stool. You pressed your face into his shirt, inhaling the scent of clean cotton and sandalwood. Half expecting Elijah to spring out and catch you in the act, you reluctantly pulled away. 

‘Hey, Bradley.’ ‘Hey yourself, stranger. Can’t believe you’re gracing us with your presence.’ ‘I know, it’s been a while.’ ‘A while? Try six months,’ he glanced at your almost empty glass and Nat’s empty bottle of Heineken. ‘Can I buy you lovely ladies a drink?’ ‘Do you even have to ask?’ Nat retorted.  ‘What’re you drinking, darlin’?’ He asked you. You smiled sheepishly. ‘Sex on the beach.’  ‘I can make that happen.’ He smirked.

Luckily, you didn’t have to come up with a response to that remark because he turned around and headed to the bar. You locked eyes with Nat, and both of you burst out laughing.

Just like that, all the negativity you’d been feeling dissipated like rain against hot tarmac. 

Bradley came back with the drinks, and the three of you took the opportunity to catch up while the others finished their pool game. You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were to find out that you’d missed a lot. Bradley had started dating one of the medics, but the relationship had crashed and burned almost immediately. He hadn’t bothered trying to meet anyone else since. Nat, after watching all her friends have such bad experiences in the dating world, had decided she was better off alone. 

‘Honestly, I don’t blame you.’ You told her. ‘You should dump Viper,’ she said with a devilish grin. ‘And we can have a hot girl summer.’ Bradley laughed. ‘Can’t say I ever imagined you saying that, Nix.’  ‘Isn’t that what it’s called now? We can’t be that out of touch, surely.’ ‘I don’t wanna think about how old I am.’ You said, picking up your phone to see if you’d missed any texts from Elijah. You hated to think what kind of argument missing one of his calls would start.  Nat and Rooster shared a knowing look. ‘It rings, you know? Out loud.’

Being this transparent was embarrassing. 

‘I think I’m going to confiscate this for now.’ Ignoring your protests, Bradley swiped your phone and tucked it into his pocket. ‘If he calls or texts, I’ll let you know.’

You were tipsy enough not to try and take your phone back but not tipsy enough to be unbothered by the idea of Elijah calling and you not picking up.

‘If he calls, I need it back straight away,’ you told him sternly. ‘If I don’t pick up, I’ll never hear the end of it.’

Bradley rolled his eyes, but you knew it wasn’t aimed at you. He hated Elijah the most of all your friends. Perhaps sensing some tension, Nat slid off her stool and grabbed your arm, practically yanking you off yours.

‘Let’s go pick a song,’ she suggested. ‘We can get more drinks on the way back.’

Since it had been so long since you last visited The Hard Deck, she let you choose. You picked Rebel Yell by Billy Idol, your mum’s favourite. Admittedly, you’d been missing your home town a lot more than usual lately, perhaps because you were in such a weird place mentally. Things must be worse than you thought if you were considering running home with your tail between your legs. 

As the night went on, you got drunker and drunker. Bradley watched with a bemused grin as you dragged Bob off to the jukebox again, since he was the easiest person to coerce into doing things. How Bradley wished it was him you were clinging to. Not that he was jealous of Bob—because that would be like being jealous of a puppy—he just desperately wanted to be the object of your affection. 

While you and Bob went to change the music, Bradley struck up a conversation with Natasha and Reuben, who erupted into laughter when you pulled Bob’s arm so hard he almost toppled over. 

‘It’s nice to have Y/N out, huh?’ He observed. Nat looked at him like he was the biggest dickhead in the world. ‘Come on, Bradshaw. He might be an ass, but she’s got a boyfriend.’

Bradley sipped his beer, desperately trying to come up with a believable response. Reuben smirked knowingly, which only made Bradley more annoyed.

‘I don’t have a thing for Y/N.’ ‘Whatever helps you sleep at night, man.’ ‘Come on, Payback. You too?’ Reuben shrugged. ‘Doesn’t take a genius to work it out. You look at her like she’s God’s gift.’

The reason Bradley looked at you like you were God’s gift is because you were, but nobody was supposed to know that. 

‘Why do women stay with guys that treat them like shit?’ Bradley asked. ‘Depends on the woman,’ Natasha started. ‘But if you mean Y/N, it’s because she can’t do anything halfway. She told me earlier that it’s because she doesn’t want to start over with someone new, but I don’t think that’s it. She just loves so hard, and it takes a lot out of her. Why would she wanna start the process all over again if she already has someone?’ Bradley was incredulous. ‘Erm, I don’t know, maybe because he’s emotionally abusing her.’

You and Nat were close. In a way, she knew you better than you knew yourself, so she was the best person for Bradley to ask about things. Now, however, he was kind of regretting opening his mouth. Knowing why you were staying with a guy who treated you so badly didn’t make it easier to accept like Bradley thought it would; it only filled him with white-hot rage. 

‘It’s not as easy as just leaving. She has to come to it on her own.’ ‘Yeah,’ Reuben chimed in. ‘You can’t convince Y/N of shit.’ Natasha scoffed. ‘Yup, and believe me, I’ve tried.’  ‘So what, we just sit around and watch him ruin her?’ ‘Y/N’s a smart cookie and one of the strongest people I know. She’ll come to her senses, and when she does, we’ll be here.’ ‘You know, I read somewhere once that you can’t save anyone. You can only hold their hand while they save themselves.’ Nat raised a brow. ‘Damn, Payback. That might be the wisest thing you’ve ever said.’ ‘Hey, why do you sound so surprised?’ ‘You really want me to answer that?’

Bradley had a lot to think about. Realistically, he knew there was nothing he could do. His only option was to let things unfold naturally and have faith that things would work out exactly the way they were supposed to. The only problem was, that sounded too much like ‘sit back and do nothing,’ which didn’t feel right either. 

Bradley needed another drink. 

In fact, he was just about to head to the bar when you came bounding over, dragging poor Bob behind you. 

‘Roooooooooster.’ You cooed.

His heart just about melted when you started batting your eyelashes at him. 

‘What’s up, Y/CS?’

Everyone else was watching the interaction expectantly, waiting to hear what you were going to say next. 

‘You’re really pretty.’ Bradley laughed, hoping you were too drunk to notice the blush he could feel creeping across his cheeks. ‘Thank you. You’re really pretty, too.’ Nat, sensing the need to intervene, came around and gently grabbed your arm. ‘Hey, let’s get you a glass of water, huh?’ ‘But I need to tell Roo how pretty he looks.’

Bradley’s heart fluttered at your use of the pet name. He really didn’t want you to leave, but Nat was right. You needed some water and probably your bed. 

‘You told him already, Y/N. And when you get back, you can tell him again.’

She started leading you away, and Bradley immediately missed your presence. 

A very flushed-looking Bob took Nat’s empty stool. ‘That girl is somethin’ else.’ He murmured, pushing his glasses back up his nose. ‘I don’t think you should let her drink anymore.’ ‘I’m not her keeper,’ Bradley responded. ‘Can’t stop her from doing anything.’ Bob shrugged. ‘Maybe so, but you’re all she talked about. You and the fact that there’s no Fall Out Boy in the jukebox. Pretty sure she called it a ‘fucking tragedy.’’  Bradley leaned forward. ‘What did she say about me?’ ‘You know,’ Bob waved a hand dismissively. ‘You’re pretty. Her boyfriend is gonna kill her if he finds out she’s here with you because he thinks you have a thing for her.’ Bradley was at a loss for words. Reuben, however, was grinning like a fool. ‘What was that about not having a thing for her? Even her boyfriend’s caught on, man.’  ‘How many times do I have to say I do not have a thing for-’

An annoyingly loud ringing sound interrupted Bradley’s sentence. It didn’t sound like his ringtone, but the noise was coming from his pocket. It took him too long to remember that he had your phone in his pocket, and that it was probably Viper calling. Sure enough, when he took out your phone, he was greeted by a sickeningly sweet photo of you and your boyfriend on the beach. You and Nat were still at the bar, and he knew he should just let it ring so you could call him back later. 

But something had a hold of Bradley, and he answered the call and pressed the phone to his ear before he could really process what he was doing. 

‘Y/N’s phone.’ 

A beat of silence, then some of the most colourful language Bradley had ever heard in his life. 

‘Who the fuck is this, and why the fuck have you got my girlfriend’s phone?’  ‘Y/N can’t come to the phone right now. She’s at the bar with her friend, gettin’ another round of drinks, and I just know hearing your voice would ruin her night. It’s ruined mine, that’s for sure. If you want, I can take a message, and she’ll get back to you in the morning.’

Reuben was nearly on the floor, trying desperately not to laugh in case Viper heard him. Bob had paled significantly, like he’d seen a ghost—or worse. 

‘That you, Bradshaw? I just knew something was going on-’

Bradley hung up. The severity of the situation was beginning to hit, and despite the sick satisfaction he’d felt when he picked up the phone, he was regretting his decision already. 

‘Y/N is gonna kill you, Rooster.’ Bob told him. 

Nat made the sensible decision to cut you off, but she said you could stay out with them until closing if you promised to keep drinking water and stop fucking around with the jukebox. That was how you ended up in the corner of a booth with Bradley next to you to stop you from escaping.

Not that you’d want to escape. 

Mickey had joined, and the guys were playing cards while you and Nat talked. She was catching you up on her life, and it made a change to think about someone other than Elijah for once.

That’s when it hit you.

You hadn’t checked your phone in hours, and you dreaded to think how many texts and calls you’d missed. 

‘Bradley, can I have my phone?’

He set his hand of cards down on the table and reached into his pocket. When you reached out to take it, he pulled away.

‘Before I give this to you, I need to tell you something.’

A wave of nausea hit you. 

‘What? What’s going on?’ ‘Viper called about an hour ago. You were at the bar, and I didn’t know what to do, so I answered it.’ Reuben leaned forward in his seat. ‘Oh, this is about to be good.’

You thought you knew what panic felt like, but up until this very moment, you had no idea. Bradley was lucky you didn’t throw up in his lap from the nerves.

‘What?’ ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t thinking-’

You snatched your phone from him, ignoring the kicked-puppy expression he was sporting. A slew of angry text messages that were borderline abusive greeted you. You skimmed them quickly, not wanting to read too many in case you started crying in front of the entire squad. 

What started out as the best night you’d had in a while quickly turned into the worst. Your boyfriend's hateful messages reminded you why you never went out and why this was the biggest mistake you could have made.

The worst part was you saw it coming.

‘Move,’ you said, grabbing your bag. ‘Bradley, let me out now.’ ‘You can’t drive like this, Y/N. Let one of us take you home.’

Bradley sounded destroyed. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. 

‘Move.’

He nudged Bob, who stood up so Bradley could climb out of the booth. You were close behind him, and when your feet touched the floor, you nearly keeled over. Bradley reached out to steady you, but you shook him off.

‘Y/N. You can’t leave like this. How are you gonna get home?’

Ignoring his pleas, you made a beeline for the exit. Nat shoved Reuben into Mickey, trying to hurry them out of the booth so she could follow you, but you were surprisingly fast for a drunk person. Bradley was right about one thing: there was no way you could drive in this state. You ducked around the corner so Nat couldn’t see you and sank to the floor. Hot tears prickled behind your eyes as you did the one thing you didn’t want to do, but the only thing you could do.

You called Elijah. 

He didn’t answer the first, second, third, or fourth time. 

Half an hour passed, and you didn’t move. At one point, you heard Bradley, Nat, and Reuben talking around the corner, coming up with a plan for where to look for you. They knew you were on foot because your car was still in the lot, and since you’d disappeared so quickly, you couldn’t have gotten far. If the situation weren’t so tragic, it would’ve been funny that you were hiding ten paces away, and none of them could find you. 

It was getting very late. People were getting in their cars and leaving or jumping into Ubers. Soon, your Jeep would be the only car left. You couldn’t face the daggers, and you couldn’t drive home, so you picked yourself up and took a slow walk down the beach to where the water met the sand. 

What a beautiful night to have your heart broken. 

There was no way Elijah would ever forgive you for this, no way you’d ever be able to convince him that nothing had happened between you and Bradley. The sane part of you knew that it was crazy to feel guilty for simply enjoying a night out with your friends, but the sane part of you rarely won these days. The part of you that loved Elijah was always loudest and knew this could never have gone any other way. 

You were just about to resign yourself to calling a cab when you heard someone yelling your name from the top of the beach. 

You either had the best or worst luck in the world because it was Bradley. 

He made short work of the distance, giving you no time to come up with something to say. He looked otherworldly in the pale moonlight. His hair was slightly mused, and the same insane part of you that loved what it loved was whispering at you to run your fingers through it. 

‘We’ve been looking all over for you, Y/N.’ He sounded very concerned as he pulled out his phone and texted the others to let them know you were safe. ‘I’m sorry, I just needed to be alone.’

You hadn’t even realised you were shivering until Bradley draped his Levi jacket over your shoulders. 

‘You needed to be alone, or you needed to call Viper back?’ The tears threatened to make another appearance. ‘It’s none of your business.’ ‘What makes you think it’s not my business? I care about you and don’t want to keep watching you get hurt.’ ‘Then stop watching!’

Bradley recoiled, and you immediately felt awful. How Elijah spoke to you like that day in and day out without feeling guilty was a mystery to you. 

‘I’m sorry, Bradley,’ you sighed, pulling his jacket tighter around you. ‘I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just very drunk and very emotional right now.’

He softened immediately and seemed torn about whether he should let you stand there freezing or pull you close. You hoped he wouldn’t try to pull you close because you didn’t think you’d have the guts to tell him no. Good feelings had been so incredibly hard to come by as of late.

‘Why are you still with him, Y/N?’ Bradley asked almost pleadingly. 

Wow. He didn’t waste any time getting right to the point. 

‘That’s a loaded question.’ ‘I need you to explain it to me because it’s killing me.’

You thought about it for a moment, and Bradley waited with bated breath to hear what you had to say.

In the end, it was this: ‘I guess we accept the love we think we deserve.’ 

Until you said it out loud, this phrase held little meaning to you. Now that it was out in the open, it was very heavy. In the last few months you’d tried coming up with a decent explanation as to why you were staying with Elijah, and you fell short every time. Turns out all you needed to do was get drunk and have an honest conversation to figure it out. 

Coming to the realisation that what you’d just said was true felt like being in freefall. Everything in your life was changing shape to fit around this ugly truth. The good things in your heart shied away in the face of this monstrous fact. 

You didn’t think you deserved a healthy love. 

Somehow, Bradley was more hurt by this than when you’d snapped at him earlier. He was staring at the ground, unable to meet your eye like you’d just told him he wasn’t worthy of love.

‘You don’t think you deserve to be happy?’

Hearing him say it was somehow even worse.

‘Apparently not.’

You were both quiet for a moment, and then, for whatever reason, you laughed. 

‘This is news to me too.’

The waves crashed loudly, water lapping at your feet as the tide came in. You couldn’t stand out here having epiphanies all night. 

‘Listen, Rooster, I need to go home. I’m sorry for snapping.’ ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said quietly. ‘But we should talk tomorrow when you’re sober. Maybe we could get coffee.’ You shook your head. ‘After tonight, I don’t think that’s a smart idea. I’ll probably be spending tomorrow trying to salvage what’s left of my relationship.’ ‘You’re not serious.’ ‘I am.’

He opened his mouth to protest but then appeared to change his mind. You watched as all the fight he had left in him dissolved. There was nothing left for him to say, and he knew it. 

The irritating birds that constantly chirped right outside your bedroom window woke you up. It was too damn early, and your head felt as though it was splitting open. When you sat up, you were hit by a wave of nausea so strong that you had no other choice but to sprint to the bathroom, smashing into the corner of your chest of drawers on the way. 

Which was to say, it was a bad morning. 

After you had puked up the entire contents of your stomach, you jumped straight in the shower, brushed your teeth, and did your skincare. At least if Elijah showed up at your front door, you wouldn’t look like you got super drunk last night, even though he’d probably already guessed. 

When you checked your phone, there were still no notifications from him, and when you called, there was no answer. This wasn’t unlike him, but it had been almost twelve hours since Bradley picked up your phone, and you would have thought he’d have something to say by now. 

To distract yourself from your impending doom, you threw open all the windows in your apartment, made your bed, unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher—all the usual morning tasks. It seemed a shame to waste such a beautiful Saturday, but you doubted you’d enjoy any of your hobbies when you were this anxious and hungover. 

With nothing else left to do, you set about making some breakfast. 

Just as you put your bagel in the toaster, somebody knocked on the door. 

Your stomach twisted itself into an impossibly tight knot. You were rooted to the spot, unable to move until whoever it was knocked a second time. 

You looked through the peephole, expecting to see Elijah standing there with his dark eyebrows knitted together in frustration. It was the only scenario that had crossed your mind, so when you saw Bradley standing there, you were very surprised. 

You took a deep breath and opened the door, greeted by the warm scent of sandalwood once again. 

‘Bradley?’

He was holding two iced lattes, which you were betting were vanilla—your favourite. Elijah hadn’t done that for you since the first week of your relationship.

‘Hey, Y/N. Thought you could use this.’

He wasn’t wrong. You ushered him inside, and he headed to the kitchen, where he 

perched himself on one of the stools at your kitchen island. This morning, he was sporting one of his more toned-down Hawaiian shirts and dark jeans. His eyelids drooped, and you wondered if he’d slept at all. 

‘I was just about to make bagels. Want one?’ ‘Sure, thank you.’

You busied yourself, putting bacon and eggs into a pan while he sipped his coffee. He eyed you with the curiosity of someone who had come over to check that you were all in one piece. Once he was satisfied that you were, he relaxed slightly. 

‘Thank you for bringing me home last night. I really appreciate it.’ You told him earnestly.  ‘You don’t need to thank me. You’d have done the same thing.’ ‘True, but still. And I’m sorry for snapping at you.’ 

Last night was gradually coming back to you in flashes, like a supercut. Each time you remembered a new detail, you cringed internally. 

‘You also don’t need to apologise. Has he called you?’ 

While the eggs and bacon were cooking, you toasted another bagel for Bradley and buttered yours. Even though you’d known him for years and been quite close until you got into a relationship, you were struggling to admit that you were pretty much being ghosted. It was already hard to walk around on base knowing that everybody was aware of how Elijah treated you. When you didn’t respond, Bradley took that as a no. 

‘Well, that’s his problem,’ he spat. ‘You did absolutely nothing wrong. Maybe if he were less of a control freak, you would have felt like you could tell him you were out with us rather than hiding it, and then he wouldn’t have found out the way he did.’

The toaster popped, and you jumped. It felt like somebody had run a cheese grater over your nerves. Bradley ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath, clearly trying to reign in his anger.

‘I should apologise too,’ he continued. ‘I shouldn’t have answered your phone. It was a dick move, and I regretted it the instant I did it.’ 

You buttered the second bagel, put one egg on each of the bottom halves, and stacked two pieces of bacon on top before adding the top part. You didn’t say a word the entire time, and Bradley was starting to get antsy. 

‘Y/N. Please talk to me.’ ‘I don’t know what to say, Roo. I’m struggling even to think straight right now. He knows it drives me fucking crazy when he’s having a go at me and doesn’t respond. I don’t understand why he does it, knowing how it makes me feel.’ Bradley sighed. ‘Because he doesn’t give a shit how you feel. He doesn’t give a shit about anything other than himself and how he feels.’ 

This wasn’t news to you, but again, it was more impactful to hear someone else say it out loud. Really, how long could you keep this up? Whether you thought you deserved it or not, you were starting to wonder if you might be better off alone than with someone who made living feel like walking next to a cliff with your eyes closed. 

You pushed Bradley’s plate across the counter and picked up your bagel. Eating felt impossible, but getting through the day with this headache would be excruciating if you didn’t at least try. 

‘Come and sit down,’ Bradley said. ‘It’s not good to eat standing up.’ Despite everything, you managed to laugh. And this time, it was a real laugh. ‘Why?’ A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘I don’t know. My mum used to say it all the time.’

You did as you were told, and you walked around the island, taking the seat next to him. The two of you ate in companionable silence, periodically taking sips of your coffees. This was how easy it should have been with Elijah. 

When you were both finished, Bradley put your plates, pan, and utensils into the dishwasher. You were too tired to tell him to stop. 

‘Thanks for breakfast.’  You smiled. ‘Thanks for being you.’

Bradley’s smile mirrored your own. Unsaid words hung in the air, but you didn’t know what to say. His leaving didn’t feel right, but if he stayed and Elijah made an appearance, he’d most definitely break up with you. 

But wasn’t this radio silence all the confirmation you needed that things were pretty much over, anyway? You were starting to wonder if this weekend had all happened exactly the way it was supposed to. Your eyes were indeed open, that was for sure. Of course, you’d known that the relationship wasn’t healthy, but this weekend had really driven the point home. 

‘Do you wanna go for a walk along the beach?’ You asked, hopefully. ‘We could grab some ice cream at that little place next to the arcade.’

Bradley didn’t just look happy. He also looked relieved that you weren’t asking him to leave. 

‘I’d love to.’

It was a beautiful Spring day, perfect walking weather. Honestly, it was the last thing Bradley expected you to suggest, so he jumped on the idea before you could change your mind and send him home.

Because he really didn’t want to go home. 

He’d sensed that you didn’t want to talk about Viper, and you’d yet to bring up your conversation on the beach last night. Bradley was beginning to doubt that you even remembered everything you said—all that nonsense about not deserving a healthy love. Bradley didn’t take you as a liar, which meant you believed that you weren’t deserving of happiness. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt quite so sad and also angry at the same time. So many emotions were warring for the top spot in his heart, and as a result, his brain was incredibly foggy.

A walk along the beach with you was perhaps the only cure.

‘Did you hear about Hangman?’ Bradley assumed you hadn’t. ‘No?’ ‘He’s getting deployed. He’s leaving next month.’ ‘How long is he going for?’ ‘Six months.’ You whistled lowly. ‘Damn.’ ‘I know. I think he’s looking forward to it, though. I sure am.’ ‘You know, I don’t think you hate him half as much as you say.’ Bradley chuckled. ‘Maybe not, but being nice to him wouldn’t feel right. Even after everything that happened on the mission.’ 

The two of you walked down the beach, chit-chatting about anything that came to mind. You were about halfway to the ice cream place when your phone pinged. Bradley guessed it would be Viper, but he never could have guessed what the message said. 

It was a photo of you and Bradley walking down the beach, taken from behind. The picture had been forwarded to you from someone else. 

E<3: always knew you were a slut.

You inhaled sharply, obviously hurt by the words on the screen. Not two seconds later, he sent another text. 

E<3: PS: we’re fucking over.

The two of you had stopped walking. Bradley watched over your shoulder as you furiously typed a reply and deleted it again. You turned to face him, and his heart just about broke when he saw the tears streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t need to say a word. He pulled you close to him, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You stayed that way for a while, sobbing into his Hawaiian shirt as he rubbed your back soothingly. When you eventually pulled away, the first thing you did was apologise. 

‘There’s nothing for you to be sorry for, sweet girl. He’s the one who should be sorry.’ You sniffled. ‘I don’t know what to reply.’ ‘Leave it for now,’ he said. ‘We can go get ice cream, take a slow walk back to yours. Then I’ll help you think of something.’ ‘I don’t know if I feel like ice cream anymore.’ ‘Well, that’s too bad because I do. Ice cream is the best remedy for heartbreak.’ ‘Did your mum tell you that too?’ ‘She sure did.’ 

It turns out Bradley was right about ice cream being the best remedy for heartbreak. The two of you sat on the wall, watching the waves while he munched on a mint chocolate chip cone and you butterscotch. It was hard to tell whether it was the best ice cream you’d ever had or if it was because you were with Bradley. If you remembered correctly, you’d had ice cream from this same place with Elijah before, and it hadn’t been this nice.

Thinking back on your memories with him only made you want to cry, so you did your best to shove them to the back of your mind. Despite the fact that he was actually a very shitty person, he’d been a dream at the beginning, and that didn’t just go away. The happy moments didn’t just suddenly turn to ash, as much as you wished they would. 

‘What are your plans for the rest of the night?’ Bradley asked around his ice cream cone. ‘I don’t know, Roo. I’m kinda working on a minute-to-minute basis right now.’ Bradley nodded. ‘Okay, well, what would you say to junk food run and a movie night?’ ‘With you?  ‘If you want to. I just don’t think it’s good for you to be alone.’ ‘I don’t want you to feel like you have to babysit me.’ ‘Is that what you think this is?’ ‘No, but I don’t want to be a burden. Or a charity case.’ ‘Y/N, you’re none of those things. I always want to spend time with you. Just so happens I have a good excuse today.’ You frowned into your ice cream. ‘Okay. As long as you’re sure.’ 

The two of you finished your ice cream and took a slow walk back to your apartment. When you got in, the first thing you noticed was a framed photograph of you and your now ex-boyfriend on the side table in the hallway. When your bottom lip started trembling, Bradley picked up the photo, put it face down, and then proceeded to run around your apartment and take down any others. It didn’t feel like the same place you’d left a few hours ago. It was haunted by memories that would never look right in the light of day. Even the happiest ones from the start were tainted with the ugliness of his cruel words and actions. 

‘This place is so depressing.’ You grumbled.

Bradley stood in front of you with a stack of photos and one of Elijah’s t-shirts. 

‘It’s not. It’s your home, Y/N. We just have to pack away his stuff and put it all in a box.’ ‘An ex-boyfriend box.’ Bradley smiled sadly. ‘Yeah, exactly. It might be over, and he might be a dick, but it was still a big part of your life, and it’s important to keep the memories safe in case you wanna look back on them someday.’ ‘Or in case I wanna burn them.’ ‘That too.’ Bradley chuckled

So you helped him gather all the mementoes from your relationship and put them in an old Dr Martens box. It all looked pretty pathetic, packed away in a shoebox.

‘I found one of his hoodies and a few other things.’ You called from your bedroom. ‘Can you grab me a bin bag from the top of the fridge?’

You heard shuffling, and then Bradley was standing in the doorway holding out the bag you requested. 

‘Damn, he doesn’t even get one of the nice Trader Joe's bags?’ ‘No,’ you giggled. ‘He gets a trash bag because his stuff is trash, and he’s trash.’

You weren’t really at the stage where you believed that just yet, but saying it was really satisfying, and it felt good to laugh. Fake it till you make it or whatever. 

‘Want me to give it to him tomorrow?’ ‘Thanks, but I should really be the one to do it. I haven’t even texted him back.’ You thought about it for a moment and then continued. ‘Would it be cheeky of me to ask if you’ll come with me? Maybe Nat, too? I could use some moral support, and he’s less likely to make a scene if the two of you are there.’ ‘Of course I’ll be there. I won’t say anything unless you need me to or unless he starts. I can’t make that same promise for Nix, though.’ ‘I haven’t even told Nat yet,’ you sighed. ‘I don’t think I wanna talk about it right this second.’ ‘I’ll text her. Don’t worry about it.’

From your spot on the floor, you looked up at Bradley. The evening sunlight was streaming in through the windows, casting an ethereal glow around him. 

‘You should change your callsign to angel.’ A look of pleasant surprise flickered across his handsome features. ‘Why?’ ‘Because you’re literally my angel, Roo. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’

Half an hour later, Bradley convinced you to go on a junk food run with him in the Bronco. He said tonight was a mandatory, post-breakup wallowing sesh because if you bottled up your feelings now, you’d explode later at a much more inconvenient time. 

The two of you had been screaming along to all the classic breakup songs: All Too Well by Taylor Swift (yes, he knew all the words), Who Knew by Pink, What About Now by Daughtry… He’d driven the long way to the store because you got so into it. 

Now, as you scanned the shelves in Target, you asked: ‘What is it about screaming sad songs that makes you feel better?’ ‘It’s cathartic,’ Bradley explained. ‘Helps you relieve the strong feelings.’ ‘You know a lot about heartbreak.’ ‘Well, I’ve had my fair share of sadness.’ You froze. ‘That was insensitive of me, I’m sorry.’ Bradley took the packed of Reeses Pieces from your hands so he could hold them. ‘Can you make me a promise?’ ‘What?’ You asked sceptically. ‘Promise you’re gonna stop apologising to me all the time. You have nothing to be sorry for.’ ‘Sorry.’ You smiled sheepishly.  He shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re supposed to say.’ ‘Okay, fine,’ you huffed. ‘I promise to stop apologising all the time.’ ‘Thank you,’ Bradley said, releasing your hands reluctantly. ‘Now, pick out five more things.’ ‘Five? There’s already five things in the basket.’ ‘Did I ask?’ ‘I’m gonna get fat.’ ‘Don’t be so ridiculous. Wallowing means junk food, and I don’t know if you’re looking at the same basket I am, but that’s not enough junk food.’ ‘Christ Almighty, okay.’ 

He helped you pick out five more things, and then you headed to check out.

‘What movies are good for wallowing?’ You asked. ‘Well, we have to start with a couple of sad ones and then finish with a happy one.’

The cashier told you your total, and Bradley tapped his card before you could even get yours out. You gave him a withering look.

‘I would’ve paid for that. You paid for the ice cream.’ ‘So?’ ‘So we should take it in turns.’

Obviously, he carried the bags as well, and as you walked back to the Bronco, he couldn’t help but wonder if Viper made you take it in turns. If you were his girl, you’d never have to tap your card.

‘What’s your favourite sad movie?’ He inquired.  You opened the trunk for him so he could put the bags in. ‘Technically, it’s not a sad movie. But there’s this part in Inside Out…Wait, have you watched it before? I don’t wanna spoil it for you.’ ‘The part where Bing Bong gets forgotten?’ You gasped. ‘How did you know?’ ‘Because it gets me every single time.’

The way you looked at him in that moment, like he had hung the moon in the sky—God, it was too much. 

‘We’ll start with Inside Out,’ he told you, opening the passenger door so you could climb in. ‘And then we’ll think of something else.’

Without giving much thought to what he was doing, Bradley found himself buckling your seatbelt for you. You were holding your breath, and it dawned on him how easy it would be to kiss you if he were that sort of guy.

And as much as he wanted to kiss you, he was not that sort of guy. He wasn’t about to take advantage of the fact that some asshole had just taken a sledgehammer to your very beautiful heart. 

‘Can we watch Bridge To Terabithia?’ You whispered.

Bradley hadn’t moved, and you were so close that he could feel your warm breath on his cheek. 

‘Are you trying to break my heart, Y/N?’ ‘Yes. I want you to feel my pain.’ 

He was grinning the whole way around the car to the driver’s side and still grinning when he got in the car. You already had his phone in your hand, searching for more sad songs so you could continue your car concert on the way back to your apartment. He drove the long way again so the two of you could finish your rendition of ‘I Don’t Love You’ by My Chemical Romance, which Bradley didn’t know the words to. He tried his best, though, because you seemed to love it, and he couldn’t deny you anything. 

By the time you got home, the sun had almost entirely set. While he set the snacks out on the coffee table, you went around lighting candles and switching on fairy lights. He’d never seen your apartment in the dark, and it was incredibly cosy. Even though it was relatively warm, you dragged all your blankets and pillows from your bed and made a little nest on the sofa. You were so adorable, it was hard to believe that someone could treat you badly. 

If you were his girl, every night would look like this—except you’d be a lot happier, and there would be no tears. 

Halfway through Bridge To Terebitha, you fell asleep. Bradley had been trying to keep his distance despite wanting to wrap you up in his arms, yet somehow—in your sleep—you’d ended up with your legs in his lap. He’d frozen at first, but once he realised you were dead to the world, he allowed himself to rest his hands on your knees. Really, it was that or sit with his arms crossed, and that would be silly. 

For the duration of the movie, his attention flickered between you and the TV. Every time he tried paying attention to what was happening, his eyes wandered back to your peaceful face. He marvelled at your astounding beauty, the delicate way your eyelashes rested against the tops of your rosy cheeks. Bradley had always admired you, and you’d been good friends for years, but what he felt in that moment was something else entirely. By the time the end credits started rolling, he knew without a doubt that he’d set whole cities ablaze to keep you warm. Feelings as rapidly growing as his should have been terrifying, but Bradley wasn’t scared. Falling in love with you seemed to be as easy as wading out into a calm ocean on a warm summer’s day. 

He knew you’d yet to learn that falling in love and staying in love should always be this easy. He knew it was going to take some time to convince you that you deserved healthy love, that the right person would never run away from you and keep turning around to make sure you were chasing them. 

But Bradley was a patient man, and he would wait as long as he had to.

End of part one.

[onlyhereforthestories]

Bumpy History - Part 1 (Aitana x Reader)

I have just finished a placement for UNI and the first thing I wanted to do was relax and write and so I did. Here is something that I started ages ago and finally finished. Two more parts of this to come!

Being a dual citizen wasn’t easy in the profession you were in, being born in the US to a Spanish mother and an American father also made life a little complicated. You had grown up moving back and forth between the two countries and so you never really felt like one was home over the other. The problem was you were being called up to the under-18s of both national team squads right now due to your performances for your college team.

Deciding that you felt more comfortable in Spanish culture and knowing that you had no plans to go to university in the US after you finished college you decided Spain was the country you were going to commit yourself to. This is where you met Aitana.

She was one of the best players playing for the team when you joined and for some reason you both just couldn’t get on, you were convinced she hated you. It was like she saw you and decided that you were someone who wasn’t worth the time of day. This meant that you didn’t fit in, everyone else looked up to the girl and you were seen as an issue.

This didn’t stop you from playing and playing well. You scored a goal on your debut and got a couple of assists on your first start for the team, one of those assists was for an Aitana goal. It was the first time you both went within arm’s length of each other. It was brief and you could see the realisation dawn on her face when she registered who she was hugging.

After that first time, you went back to the States and continued with your studies. You only ever thought of the woman when camps were coming up and even then it was a fleeting thought, you wanted to make sure you kept her out of your mind. She obviously didn’t think about you.

Two years later you had been signed by Barcelona straight out of college, you got the call the day you graduated to confirm your place for the next season and you moved back over to Spain the following week. What you didn’t know was that Aitana had also been promoted from the Barca B team to the first team at the same time, a fact that you only found out when you stepped into the coach’s office on your first training session of the season.

“Y/n, thank you for coming in slightly early for this. I want you to meet Aitana, I believe you might already know her from both your Spanish youth team days but as you are both new to the team this year I thought it would be a good idea to have you paired up coming into today. I know joining a new team can be scary so I want you two to look out for each other.” He gave you both a pat on the back as he left the office.

“Hola. It’s good to see you.” As you were now going to be teammates you decided it was time to be a bigger person and offer that metaphorical olive branch. You were adults now, the petty youth nature of ignoring each other surely couldn’t happen anymore.

“Hola” She didn’t look at you but at least she replied. You took this as a good sign, maybe you could get on this time around.

“Shall we go get our new stuff? I don’t want us to be late on our first day.” The smaller woman nodded and followed you into the hall and towards the training room. You couldn’t tell if her quiet nature was due to nerves about being on the team or not wanting to speak to you. You were leaning more towards the latter based on your history.

You both got introduced to the players that you would now call your teammates and started training. By the end of the session, you had spoken confidently to a few of the other women on the team and was happy with how you had settled yourself in. You were worried about this the most when accepting the contract, you had not lived in Spain since you were 13. This meant you felt a disconnect from the culture and the people, a disconnect that you were happy was all in your head. Aitana on the other hand had been quiet and reserved and you didn’t know if you could help her, you didn’t know if you wanted to help her.

It shocked you when you thought about it later that night at home, the woman who had been the top dog, the woman who was so confident in her obvious ability was shy and reserved now even though she had made it. You spent that night thinking about what you should do in this situation, you were torn on whether you should try and help the smaller woman or not.

It had been a good year for you, your debut season had been perfect. You were a starter now and got a good amount of game time, you were the joint top scorer in the league and you had made some wonderful friends on the team. You only had one issue, Aitana. The woman wasn’t necessarily mean to you anymore, she hadn’t been the whole season. Well, not like she was back in your youth days anyway. The shorter woman just didn’t speak to you even when you tried to speak to her. She would avoid being in the same room as you if she could, didn’t pair up with you unless asked to and would always steer clear of you if you were on the same team during training games.

After trying to engage her with your new friends at the beginning of the season, she retreated away even more. It was like she was scared to be around you and that seemed to extend to some of the girls you were closest with.

You just didn’t understand what you had done to make her hate you that much, this is what you were currently explaining to Leila and Patri, two of your best friends on the team. She really must hate you to treat you the way she had back in your youth days and to then go on to ignore you now.

“I just don’t get it, when we first met it was like she hated me just for what I looked like or something because she was horrible before we even really spoke. She was so good and everyone looked up to her so I was just on my own, the little American who shouldn’t be there. Now she just doesn’t say anything, I’m confused. I want to get on with her for the sake of the team at the very least, I see her laughing with some of the other girls and I just don’t know why she can’t do that with me?” It was honestly starting to get to you, you just wanted to know what you did wrong so you could fix it.

“She might just not know how to talk to you because of the fact you have a past. You have two options really, you corner her and make her speak to you or you carry on crushing on her from afar.” Your head whipped to the older woman at that.

“I don’t have a crush, what? I. Shut up.” The two women laughed at you. The fact that you found the midfielder a little attractive was the best thing the two of them had heard in weeks. “I hate you both.”

You walked out onto the balcony of Leila’s apartment where you were currently having a girl's evening. The sun was setting in the distance and you could just about make out a group of girls kicking a ball in the park over the road. You don’t know when it happened and you don’t know why it happened but at some point over the last year, your dislike for the woman from your past had turned into affection.

You were screwed.

[millervrse]

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐑! BY THE COFFEE MACHINE ! javier peña x reader

summary: Javier Peña doesn’t like you. You’re too nice, too bubbly, and you get on his last nerve. He didn’t get how anybody in this line of work could be so goddamn cheery all the time. Though aside from your, in his eyes, forced and fake kindness, you had no bad features, and perhaps that, added to your beauty, is what ticked him off so much. Could he learn to like you the more time passes, or would you do this dance of hatred forever?

pairing: javier peña x afab!reader

warnings, notes: EVENTUAL 18+ smut, reader has a bit of an established backstory, a few uses of y/n but only when necessary, r! has a dog, references to narcos and thus real life people and occurrences (pablo escobar, the cartel, etc), ENEMIES TO LOVERS but it’s one sided because javier hates r!, r! has an established personality, grumpy x sunshine

word count: 500-

LYN SPEAKING! so this is an already finished piece that i wrote nearly a year ago, a word count of 20k+ to boot! holy fuck! this is a series from javier’s pov, though if people are interested, i’d like to throw in more chapters from reader’s pov using second person, especially for smut as the original piece was written as an sfw work. if people like this, i’m down to share much, much more! anyway, enjoy this little prologue. lyn out!

edit: read the next part HERE!

My name is Javier Peña, and I work as an agent for the DEA in Bogotá, Columbia.

I’ve never been a commitment kind of guy. Not unless we’re talking about work, anyways. For the longest time, the only thing I’d ever call myself loyal to was just that: Work, with a side of coffee and cigarettes.

And tracking down a Columbian drug lord, but we’ll talk about that later.

I’ve seen this job do a lot of things to people. I’ve seen it better them as a person, and I’ve seen it tear them to shreds even more. I’ve seen it end up in friendships, just as much as it ends in divorce.

And I’m no genius, but if you look at the odds, the latter happens way more often.

I never would’ve guessed that, of all the goddamn people in the DEA, I would be one of the ones to experience the phenomenon that is this job bringing people together.

If you think the odds of people in the DEA either making friendships, or divorcing, or even becoming enemies is low, the odds of them falling in love is ridiculously lower. It’s almost laughable.

And let’s just say: Javier Peña was not the kind of guy who those odds would fall upon.

A year ago today, I was bullying the woman who would soon become my girlfriend, and hopefully, one day, my wife. Now that I look back on it, it doesn’t seem palpable that it even happened at all.

That same woman is in my line of vision now, playing with her dog as they run around in front of me. She’s laughing as she throws a frisbee around, chasing the Shepard mix as it runs after it. From time to time, she’ll turn back to me, flashing that brilliant smile of hers that made me fall in love with her in the first place.

“Hey, Peña! Are you coming over here or what?” she yells at me with that witty sass that’ll always bring me to my knees.

Or, in this case, my feet.

I get up from where I lay in the sand, shaking my head at her as I approach. She looks even more gorgeous than usual as she holds her hands on her hips, hanging fire for me as the sun is setting behind her.

I don’t like getting sappy. I didn’t like getting sappy, I guess. But every love with no end, surely has a beginning.

Allow me to give you ours.

if you made it to the end of this, i really hope you liked it! please consider leaving a reblog, as they help my work immensely <3 kisses!

[maarrgarr]

The Unknown Heir.

part eight

masterlist of the Unknown Heir.

Gojo Satoru x fem! reader.

Synopsis: The reader returns after being gone for two years and leaving her boyfriend, Satoru, without giving him a reason. But now she doesn't come back alone.

Warnings: English is not my first language, possible grammatical and spelling mistakes, some plot changes.

N/a: This is a flashback!!

Satoru's arm was wrapped around your waist, while your head was lying on his chest. You both liked moments like this, the two of you naked and cuddling, after having had fantastic sex.

You wanted to sleep so badly, but you had things to do, as did your boyfriend, but he didn't seem to mind as you could feel his breathing heavy. You moved to get out of his arms, causing him to wake up. You sat up in bed and lay still doing nothing, you didn't feel like leaving, but you had to. "What are you doing? Go back to bed" Satoru asked you in a hoarse voice. "I have to go see Ieiri" you answered him and looked at him, his hair was tousled and his eyes narrowed looking at you, "And you have to go talk to Yaga-sensei" you told him to get up too. Yaga had called Gojo to come to his office, as he wanted to tell him something, both of you guessed to scold him for something.

You bent down to grab your underwear that was scattered on the floor and when you stood up your gaze met a picture that was on your desk, in it were Satoru, Suguru and you smiling and hugging each other. "You still haven't heard from Sugu?" you asked Gojo. A few days ago your best friend had gone on a mission and still hadn't returned, the strange thing was that he didn't answer any of the messages you had sent him, which was a habit whenever any of you went on a mission. "No, I also called him and he didn't answer me" Satoru answered you. For some reason this made you feel uneasy, there was something you didn't like, but you thought it was just a bad feeling, and soon Suguru would be back.

When you finished putting on your panties and bra, you stood up from the bed to look for the other clothes, but while doing so you felt how you got dizzy and soon you felt like throwing up, you quickly ran to the bathroom and threw everything in the toilet. Quickly Satoru followed you and knelt next to you, rubbing your back, "Are you ok love?" he asked you, you just nodded, stood up and washed your mouth. "Yeah, I just got dizzy out of nowhere and felt like throwing up, maybe I stopped too fast" you answered trying not to make him worry, "I understand, but it's like the fifth time you've been dizzy this week, only this time you threw up" he put a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Why don't you go see Ieiri and ask her to check you out?". You only nodded, you had been feeling sick for several days, but you couldn't find a coherent reason, although you didn't worry much, you thought that maybe you had eaten something bad.

When you arrived with your friend, Ieiri, and you started to tell her what you were feeling, she only looked at you with suspicion, something you noticed, "What's wrong?" you asked her, "Y/n, when was the last time you fucked Satoru?", "Today" you answered without shame and she rolled her eyes amused, "Well, let me rephrase the question, when was the last time you menstruated?". Suddenly a silence was created in the room, you couldn't remember when was the last time, and soon you understood what Ieiri was thinking, "No way" was the only thing you could say.

Before they could continue talking about it, Satoru and Professor Yaga entered the room. The latter didn't have a very good face. Your boyfriend moved to your side when he noticed that you didn't look very happy either, in fact he noticed you looked a little pale. He gently pinched your cheek, bringing you out of your reverie, "Everything okay?" he asked you, and he looked between you and Ieiri, both of you nodded.

"I have something very important to tell you, and I know it won't feel good, but it is my duty to tell you". The three of them turned their attention to Yaga, "As you may know a few days ago, your partner Geto, went on a mission and still hasn't returned. Well apparently something made Geto react badly and he ended up killing everyone in that city". That took you by surprise and it was as if, for a minute, nothing existed around you. It was impossible, your friend, Suguru, killing people, it couldn't be.

"It's impossible, maybe it was a curse" said Satoru just as in denial as you, "No Gojo, I'm afraid it's true, it has been proven that what happened in that city was the work of Geto and not some curse. Therefore and as stipulated by law, Geto Suguru is now a deserter and is considered a cursed user".

That was the last thing you heard, before feeling a blip go through your ears, suddenly seeing everything black and losing consciousness.

[hoe4sports]

“The world stops turning”

Caroline Graham Hansen x reader

AN: No trigger warning. This has been re written as of 31st of May.

You were fresh out of University, and for sure done with anything related to lectures, studying and assignments. You grew up in this silly little Norwegian town, Tromsø. You know, a place where you can see the northern lights, reindeers and polar bears! Well, the latter is not entirely true. It is just a dead polar bear stuffed for tourists to see and take pictures of. Regardless, you grew up here with your grandparents. Your father left when you were a baby, and your mother? You went no contact a few years ago as she put you through a lifetime of trauma. That is exactly why you decided that when you was finished with your bachelors degree in sports leadership, you needed to get out of this sad little town. It is always cold, and the town has winter for 9 months a year. Three of them are in complete darkness, no sun or no daylight. It’s just as bad as it sounds. That’s why you decided to apply for jobs pretty much anywhere but here. Places like Oslo, London, Greece, Australia (hello Sam Kerr) and even the us. You however ended up getting a job offer from the women’s department in the club known as Barcelona. It was just what you needed; Sun, beaches and Spanish women.

You decided to go to Barcelona a week early, you figured you had to take advantage of checking out the city and the nightlife! Barcelona had arranged this beautiful apartment for you downtown. It was a decent sized apartment in a new building with spectacular views from your bedroom window in the 23rd floor. You had never seen anything like this as you grew up very poor, and only lived in an apartment with your grandparents. You spent the first week checking out bars, restaurants and beaches. You also found a huge mall with all of your favourite stores! Naturally, you had to purchase new clothes as I was told that there would be an athletic dress code. Lululemon for the win!

You didn’t really meet a lot of hot Spanish women during your first week, but yoy made a few friends in the building. One of your closest neighbours, Ingrid Engen lived two doors away from you. She recognised me from a talent camp for 13 year olds in Norway. You had spent the first week getting to know each other, and when she found out you were going to be working for Barcelona; she was beyond excited. You two clicked naturally, and you went out to all her favourite bars, restaurants and shops. She really gave you the full experience! 

Fast forward to today, Monday morning. The first of August. At 5.30. Let’s just say that you regretted the last bottle of wine from last night. But today was the day! The day were you finally start your first “big girl job” and you bet you were feeling excited. You got your tired body out of bed and opened up the blinds in your apartment. The views were simply breathtaking. It was stunning! A beautiful sunrise with the most beautiful colors that you could possibly imagine. You made myself an iced coffee, and wrapped your fuzzy around yourself so you could sit outside on your private balcony. It felt relaxing. The air was crisp, the sound of the ocean was lingering in your ears and you could smell the salty beach. It was like a dream come true.

Your daydreaming soon became interrupted as you knocked myself intro reality. First day of your first job, right. You quickly made it to the bathroom and had a steaming shower. The smells of the floral soap felt like a full on aroma therapy session. You quickly got out of the shower and patted your body dry. Your blonde long hair dried and put in a half up half down bun and you did light makeup as your skin was tanned from the week in the sun. You always used some mascara, it really made your icy blue eyes pop. You got dressed up in what you had been requested to wear; Black athletic shorts, a black athletic top, your trusty black hokas and a hot pink lululemon jacket. It felt wrong, but your new boss had insured you that any athletic wear was good.  You grabbed my bag and you took a deep breath. One look in the mirror, some lip balm and you were out the door. This was going to be the first day of the rest of your life. 

*fast forward to being with your boss*

“Ah, and this office is where you will be working from! Feel free to decorate however you like.” The Spanish woman said. You nodded and listened as active as you could. “Here is your work phone, your laptop and your camera. If there is anything you need, you let me know.” she said as she handed over what looked like a tower of apple and canon products. You felt stunned. “Wow, this is amazing, thank you so much! I’m so excited to get to know the team, and I’m eager to get to work.” You replied as you sat down your new gear and followed the tall woman as she talked enthusiastically about Barcelona and their work culture. 

*Caroline POV*

Jonathan was going on, and on and on and on about what this season was gonna look like. I was tying up my white Nike cleats, they were brand new as the team wanted us to start fresh. I however, hated fresh and new and change. I liked stability, routine and same old. Why change something that isn’t broken?

The door to the hallway suddenly swung open. There was the head of staff, Maria. She was always so bright and shiny and talkative. Not really my way of life. “Ah, Maria, just in time!” Jonathan called out. “Come, come!” He urged and a blonde petite woman popped up from behind Maria. “This, ladies, this is Y/F/N. She is one of the new assistant coaches, and she will be primarily working with the wingers. With her, we will be unstoppable!” Jonathan said enthusiastically. The girl blushed, and smiled. “Hi squad, Im looking forward to kicking your asses on a daily basis”  she said with a cheeky grin. I was staring at her as I couldn’t remember why she seemed so familiar. “Caro, stop staring!” Mapi hissed at me. I rolled my eyes. “I wasn’t staring” I hushed, but with no luck as the team was already making their way onto the pitch.

[frc-ambaradan]

A long time ago in a... well... galaxy full of ducks and mice

Hello there!

How should we celebrate Star Wars Day? Uhm... what about a ride along some italian Disney "parodies" of Star Wars? And I use quotation marks 'cause, it'll probably surprise you but, as of today, there is no real Disney parody of Star Wars.

There are, though, many stories that draw inspiration from some elements of Lucas' saga, starting from "Topolino e la spada di ghiaccio" (1984) amazing fantasy saga by Massimo de Vita that has nothing to do with Star Wars but gives us the first Disney character whose design's been heavily inspired by Darth Vader: the evil Prince of Mists!

The nefarious Prince of Mists from "Topolino e la spada di ghiaccio".

Scattered throughout the years there are many other stories inspired by Star Wars from Silvia Ziche's Topokolossal (1997):

Mickey Skyrunner weilds his legendary catalytic baguette as he faces off Pietro Galactus.

up to "Paperoga eroe dello spazio" (2013) a splendid, touching story by Roberto Gagnor and Claudio Sciarrone that culminates in one of the best plot twists ever on Topolino's pages (this story is the dream of any Galactic Empire fan ❤️).

Easy, Gorgius "heir" to Behlpost's throne... who do you think you are? Luke Skywalker? (Spoiler: you're not).

You may call it Behlpost, but that's Naboo royal palace for sure... with imperial guards as it seems 😁 (or are they forerunners of Operation Cinder sentinels? 🤔).

The only story (well, saga actually) that comes the most close to a real parody is Giorgio Pezzin's "Topolino e i signori della Galassia" (1991) which draws heavily inspiration from Star Wars expecially in the second episode.

The main character of this story is Goofy, who finds out to have inherited special powers from some old relative. Powers that make him the only one able to help the Galactic Confederation in their struggles against robots named "the Metals" led by general Titanio who seeks to eradicate every biological life form from the galaxy.

Jeez, Titanio's soldiers may be robots but their aim is as bad as Stormtroopers'... 🤣🤣

That's definitely the Battle of Hoth.

I know for sure there are also Star Wars inspired stories starring Josè Carioca out there, and McGreals' "May the farce be with you" (2005), but, unfortunately, I never had the chance to read them 'cause they've never been published in Italy.

But today's biggest obstacle to a Star Wars parody is Disney's auto-censorship. Yes, 'cause there's a strict rule at Disney that forbids authors to write parodies of other Disney franchises... so any parody of Star Wars (and Marvel) it's a very loud no-no. Sad :'(

We do know, though, that there are at least three finished legit parodies that never saw the light of day. One by Francesco Artibani that was supposed to be published on Topolino and two made-in-Egmont drawn by Cavazzano and Freccero.

Of the latter we can appreciate a beautiful illustration and a single page thanks to Freccero sharing them online a few years ago:

Alas, unless Disney change their internal directives (and there's no way it's gonna happen anytime soon) we'll never get the chance to see these or any other Star Wars inspired story in the near future.

But we can sure appreciate the older ones and if you wanna indulge yourself in something different today... these are the stories you're looking for ;)

May the Force be with you!

(And LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!!! 💪)

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Tremors

“The living room is fully completed, including the personal stuff like the photos you asked for. The dining room will be completed today. There was a delay because the carpet you picked wasn’t available in three of the stores that offered it previously. Anyway, it will be delivered today, and we can finish the dining room then.”

Oliver nodded slowly, listening to Thea’s oral pleadings.

When he had arrived here – here being the Queen Mansion that had been rebuilt in the behest of Felicity years ago – Thea had been ordering the helpers around. She had been completely in her element. Bossing people around, politely even so, had always been her thing. As a teenager, she could have been quite mean, but once she had found a purpose, something reasonable for her to do, she had put all the effort necessary into it. She had helped with Verdant in the first few years of its existence, and now she helped setting up this place for Oliver and his family.

Admittedly, Oliver was feeling a little guilty for having Thea take care of everything. She had offered it herself, but he knew that she was still feeling guilty for not going into the field with the others the night of Rose Blood’s final attack. No matter how often he told her that he understood, she would only smile sadly and say that she wasn’t ready to forgive herself for it.

The truth was that Oliver was grateful that Thea was taking on the task of making this rebuilt mansion ready for them to move in. She was seeing things rather rationally and tried to make it a new home instead of trying to make it resemble the old Queen Mansion or Queens’ last burnt down family home. The first would have been difficult as Felicity had made changes when rebuilding the house in the first play, trying to make it lighter and more family-friendly. The latter had been difficult because the entire style of the house was different from the home Oliver had built for his family.

It had been weeks since he had been released from the prison and pardoned by the president. All that time, he, Felicity and the kids had still been living in the penthouse of the hotel that Bruce had bought, so Felicity and the kids had had a safe place to say. Although it was comfortable there and they had arranged themselves there, it wasn’t a real home. It was just a place to stay, and they all needed to get back into a real home and to their new normal.

Oliver looked around shortly. The foyer that had been covered in dark wood and old, dark furniture back when it had been the original mansion that he had grown up in, was almost unrecognizable. The paneling was simpler and lighter, so were the carpet and the furniture there. It was different than the mansion had been, and it was different than their home had been. But it was a style that he liked, something to get used to and something to feel at home in.

“The floors and walls in the offices are done, so you can choose what to do when you are ready. Since you said they aren’t priority-“

“They aren’t,” Oliver interrupted her, shaking his head. “We have our offices at Queen Incorporated and City Hall, and we can work everywhere. Our priority are the family rooms – living room, dining room, kitchen, bathrooms, bedrooms.”

“Raisa is currently filling the kitchen cabinets, and the bathrooms have been finished three days ago. There is only a little bit of decorating missing, but I found a nice local shop whose owner was so thrilled when I told her that I was looking for decoration on your house, and she immediately agreed to come here and decorate the rooms herself.”

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but Thea lifted a hand.

“Before you say anything, I told her what you like and don’t like, and the ideas that she told me sounded great. And of course I called Felicity, who ran a quick security check on her. I wouldn’t let a stranger into your new home before I knew that the stranger could be trusted.”

He knew she wouldn’t. Oliver smiled gratefully, but Thea just turned back to her report.

“The bedrooms are a little bit more difficult.” Thea turned the page on her clipboard and skimmed the precise lists that she had made to always know where everything was at. “Your bedroom is almost done, but the bed is still not delivered. I checked back with the shop, and it should be here by Wednesday. The furniture for the dressing room is delivered, but the dressers and shelves aren’t set up yet. Even if they are – what would you put in there? You barely have any clothes.”

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. “We can buy new clothes.”

“Again, not a priority,” Thea concluded from his tone and nodded her head, “understood. If Felicity is ready for a wild shopping spree-“

“-I am sure she will call you.”

“She better does.” Thea grinned, but she turned serious again quickly. “I took Emmy and Tommy here to check the progress on their rooms earlier this week. Unfortunately, Emmy’s room was painted in the wrong color, so we had to redo that one, but we were able to put in some of the furniture yesterday. Emmy will come by again tomorrow, so she can decide if she wants anything placed differently. She also needs to decide on some more decorations. Tommy was happy with his progress, but it turned out that we made a mistake measuring the room, so the planned astronomy corner wouldn’t have fit with the furniture. We sent the furniture back and ordered new ones which should be here by tomorrow or the day after that.”

Oliver nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“William’s room is finished. We will have a video call later today, so he can make sure everything is the way he wants it to be.”

Again, Oliver nodded. He was glad that William had a room in their new house too. Although he wasn’t home that much anymore, Oliver was glad he still had a place in the house. It would feel wrong otherwise. He wanted William to know that he was always welcomed here and that they loved him like crazy.

“Millie’s and Addie’s rooms are still mainly undone. Neither of you has told me yet what the two really want. I sent you the drafts for the rooms, but… no reply.”

Oliver sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Millie and Addie can’t really decide on an idea, and Felicity and I just had so much on our hands lately and…”

Thea smiled at him sympathetically. “I know. I didn’t mean to reproach you. I’m just saying that I need a decision to continue my work.”

“I know. You will have our decision by tomorrow. I promise.”

When Thea was able to start working on Millie’s and Addie’s rooms by tomorrow, they might be able to move in by the weekend or maybe the beginning of the next week, Oliver estimated. That wasn’t too long away, but it wasn’t too close to feel hurried either. They didn’t have much stuff at the hotel as it was, so it wouldn’t be too hard to move. It could be done in a day.

Still thinking about the upcoming change in their life, Oliver caught the hesitant expression on Thea’s face. Perking his eyebrows, he cocked his head.

“Is there anything you aren’t telling me?” he asked. “A murine plague? Must? Safety defect?”

“John, Bruce, Felicity and you certainly turned this into another Fort Knox. I doubt that anyone comes in that isn’t supposed to. I am not even sure anyone will get out of here if you don’t want it.”

“Good to know,” Oliver said, thinking about the kids and the fact that they would grow up into teenagers. He knew the things he had done as a teenager. They had been stupid back then, for his children they could easily be dangerous. “So what else is there?”

Thea looked at her clipboard, pursed her lips and held it out for him.

“It has to be bad,” Oliver joked.

As soon as he took the clipboard from her and looked at the item on her list that was marked with three big question marks, Oliver felt his smile fading from his face though.

Mia’s nursery was written there in Thea’s neat handwriting.

He thought about the mobile he had found in the ruins of their homes. It was the only thing that had been left of Mia’s room, and it was almost the last thing left of her at all. They had their memories and photos, but every other evidence that she had been a part of their lives had been burnt with their house.

Well, of course there was the devastating pain they had been left with too. It wasn’t really visible to anyone else, but that pain was with them all the time. Mia had come into their lives unexpected, but they had loved her just as much as they loved all of their children. She had been left with them because they had been trusted with her.

“I watched the TV interview,” Thea said into the silence. “Felicity is still suffering, isn’t she?”

“We all are,” Oliver whispered, “but we have to move on.”

“There’s no chance you are getting her back?”

Oliver shook his head. “Apparently, our lifestyle is not appropriate for being foster parents.”

Thea shook her head. “It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” Oliver sighed. “But they don’t want to take Mia out of her new foster family either. They think it’s necessary for her to have stability. I can’t argue with that, so…”

Stepping forward, Thea wrapped her arms around Oliver and hugged him tightly. Oliver wrapped his arms around Thea in return and sighed once more.

He remembered how hard it had been to learn how much time of William’s life he had missed when he had learned that he had had a son for years. In some way this was worse because he knew what a short time of Mia’s life he had been able to be a part of. There wouldn’t be more. At least with William, he had always known that they had an entire future to look forward to and to make up for the time they had missed out on.

With Mia, all they had was their past.

→ → → → →

“At the time Oliver turned himself in, we were fostering the little girl that was abandoned outside of the Smoak & Queen Science Center. We fell in love with her instantly. It felt like there was a reason why she was placed right where we would find her. The social worker that was responsible for her told Oliver that the little girl would have quite some troubles to find a family to take her in. Even in foster care, it wouldn’t be easy for her. The media had already taken interest in her, and her health issues might shy away possible adoptive parents too. That is how Oliver and I made the decision to take her in. It was a difficult process, especially emotionally. Living with the fear that she might be taken away from us because her biological family would want her back or because we would be seen as unfit to take care of her was difficult.” Felicity took in a trembling breath. “We were afraid of getting our hearts broken when she would be taken away. And she was. In the process of-“

The recording of the interview stopped on Felicity’s face. Her eyes were filled with tears, a single one rolling down her cheek. The stress and pain of talking about her loss was all too visible. It was a heartbreaking image, one she had seen a few times too often these last days.

Shaking her head, Felicity muted the TV and went back to cuddling Hawk. He was lying on his side in front of her, his back pressed to her front. Felicity snuggled her face into his fur and closed her eyes.

It had been a week since the interview had been broadcasted. Ever since she had seen herself crying about the loss of her youngest child at least five times a day. That snippet of the interview had been broadcasted on TV multiple times, and it was shown on every gossip website too. Everyone on social media seemed to be talking about it too. Since everyone in the city seemed to have watched the interview, she had been looked at with a lot of sympathetic expressions in the eyes.

All she had wanted to do was watching the news and of course the first piece had been about that interview. It should have been about a lot more than their loss. It should have been about the new beginning for the city, the new transparency about what they were doing and how they were doing. It should have been about Starling City’s future. Now that seemed to be a little, almost forgotten fragment of what that interview had been about.

Blinking through one eye, Felicity tried to figure out if any important local news had started yet. She found a reporter, an elderly man whose name she had forgotten, reporting from in front of the Office of Children and Family Service. Behind him, she could see protestors.

Felicity sat up and unmuted the TV.

“…since early this morning. We have talked to some protestors who explained that their main reason for gathering here is to show loyalty to the Queen Family. Oliver Queen, one of them said, was ready to give up his freedom to save this city. He thinks that the least people can do for the man that turned this city into a real union is to show up in support and fight a fight that he himself might be too tired fighting.”

The image changed. Instead of the reporter, a group of protestors were shown now. They held up signs, saying Bring Mia back! and He gave us our city. Now give him his baby. or We trust them with the city, why not trust them with a baby?

“The CPS did not respond to any of our requests for an interview so far and-“

Felicity switched off the TV and just stayed sitting on the couch without moving for a moment. Hope had sparked inside of her, and Felicity hated that. She had hated that Mia wasn’t with them, but she had accepted that there was nothing to be done about that. That was why hope was dangerous.

When the elevator that led to the penthouse opened with a quiet sound, Hawk jumped over the back of the couch and ran to welcome Oliver back home.

“Hey, Buddy,” she heard him say, “what would you think about a run? I could need a good run.”

Hawk barked in response, making Oliver chuckle.

Felicity lifted her hands and rubbed them over her face. The sooner she forgot about this report, the better. She would just have to pretend like she had never seen it in the first place.

Putting on a smile, she breathed out slowly once more and turned to follow Hawk to the specious entrance area where the elevator was. Oliver was standing there in his suit, the jacket tossed away and the sleeves of his shirt rolled up. Hawk had climbed up on him, his forelegs hanging over Oliver’s arms and his head snuggled against Oliver’s chest while he was petting him.

As soon as Oliver lifted his head and his eyes met Felicity’s, she frowned and cocked her head. He rarely ever looked tired. Today he did though.

“What’s wrong?”

They asked the question at the same time as Oliver must have seen the same tiredness in Felicity’s eyes. Chuckling softly, Oliver set Hawk’s forepaws back on the ground. He crossed the distance towards Felicity and wrapped his arms around her body tightly then. Felicity leaned her head against his chest, closed her eyes and breathed him in. With Oliver here, everything was easier and she just felt at home. Even in this still quite cool and impersonal penthouse.

She hummed contently, wrapping her arms around Oliver’s middle loosely. His heartbeat was slow and firm, just the way it should be. Whenever she took the time to listen to it, she realized why he had to like sleeping his ear pressed to her chest so much. There was something incredibly soothing about listening to the heartbeat of the person you loved.

“Are you okay?” he asked with whispered voice and placed a kiss to the crown of her head.

“I am now.” Felicity snuggled herself a little more into his arms before she leaned her head back to look at him. “You?”

“Okay now.” He smiled at her softly before dipping his head forward and placing another kiss on her forehead. “I’ll make dinner. You can tell me about your day in the meantime.”

He tightened his arms around her briefly before he let go of her. His hands moved to her back, back up and down her arms to her hands. He tangled his fingers with her and pulled her with him towards the kitchen. Hawk followed, surely hoping to be used as a tester for everything that would go into the meal.

While Oliver was already gathering everything he needed for tonight’s recipe, Felicity poured both of them a glass of wine.

“Where are the kids?” Oliver asked, getting a knife to chop the vegetables.

“Emmy is meeting with Priya and Rosalie. Tommy and Millie are in their rooms. Addie is at ballet.”

Oliver nodded without looking up. “So, how was your day?”

“Unspectacular,” Felicity replied with a shrug of her shoulders. She didn’t want to talk about it. If she said more, she worried that she’d tell him about the reports. It was the least she wanted to do. “How was your visit at the house?”

The house. Felicity wasn’t quite ready to call it a home. Back when she had decided to rebuild the mansion and maybe live there one day, everything had been different. She hadn’t been used to live in a home that was completely hers and Oliver’s. Now that she was, it felt a little weird to move into the old Queen Family Mansion, even if the changes she had made back then and the changes that had been done in the last weeks made it a completely different property.

“Good.” Oliver looked at her briefly and smiled. “I think we can move in ten days to two weeks.”

Felicity perked up her eyebrows. “Thea must have put a lot of work into it.”

“I think she has worked on it every free hour.”

Although Felicity hadn’t really expected anything else because Thea always put all the effort into things that were important to her and this was important to her.

“Great. I think it’s time that we move out of here and into a real home again. We need to settle a real new normal.”

“Agreed.”

Sipping at her wine, Felicity watched Oliver closely. He was very focused on chopping the vegetables which she found weirdly suspicious because she had watched him cook like a million times before, and she knew that he could chop blindly.

“You have heard about the protests, right?”

Now Oliver lifted his head and looked at her with a frown. “What protests?”

Apparently, she had been wrong, Felicity realized, pressed her lips together and rolled them over her teeth. Oops.

“Nothing.” Felicity shook her head and took a gulp of the wine. “Just forget about it.”

Oliver chuckled, putting the knife down and crossing the distance towards her. He came to stand behind her, wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. He swayed her from side to side lightly.

“What protests?” he asked.

With a sigh, Felicity leaned back against him and put a hand to forearm on her stomach. She was sure that telling him about these protests would ground her again. It would help her accept that each and every spark of hope that Mia could come back to them would only add to the pain of accepting that Mia wasn’t coming back. She didn’t want to make Oliver’s heart break though.

“Felicity.” He said her name slowly and syllable-by-syllable. It was his way of saying that she wasn’t getting out of this. She had to tell him whether she wanted to or not because he wouldn’t let it go. “Tell me.”

Another sigh escaped her lips before she turned around to him and explained, “Apparently, some protestors have gathered in front of the CPS. They want Mia to be given back to us.”

Although Oliver tried not to show any reaction to her words, Felicity could see the emotions flickering over his face. There was hope for a split second, followed by worry, pain and finally worry again.

“Felicity.”

“I know.” Felicity clicked her tongue, shook her head and turned away from Oliver. She went to the opposite side of the counter and continued chopping the vegetables that he had left there before. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.”

With held breath and biting down on her tongue, Felicity continued to chop the vegetables and waited for Oliver to say anything. He was about to when-

“Is Mia coming back?”

Oliver and Felicity both turned their heads to see Millie standing in the door, looking at them with her soft eyes. Oliver shot a brief look back at Felicity before he approached Millie and kneeled down in front of her, so they could look eye-to-eye.

“No, Millie.” Oliver shook his head and reached out his hands to take Millie’s in his. “Mia is not coming back. She is with a new family who will take good care of her.”

“But it was my birthday wish.”

Felicity had to fight the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. Even without having Milie explain what she meant, she knew it.

“I wished for Mia to stay with us,” she explained anyway, “so why doesn’t she?”

Oliver pulled at Mia’s hands until she was in his arms. He hugged her tightly, just like he had hugged Felicity before. Millie snuggled into his arms and released a long, sad sigh.

“Mia is with a new family,” Oliver repeated, “and that’s okay. All we ever wanted was for Mia to be healthy and happy, didn’t we?”

“And to stay with us.”

True, Felicity thought, but they couldn’t tell Millie that. It was hard enough for her to understand why Mia couldn’t stay with them. If Oliver and Felicity added to the confusion, it would be even harder for her.

“If I was taken away from you, would you just let me go?”

Felicity felt the air being sucked from her lungs and her heart being clenched down on until it had no more room to beat. If she had thought that her heart had been broken before, it was completely shattered now. She had always thought of herself as a mother who had an eye for the thoughts and feelings of her children. Today she seriously questioned her opinion of herself.

Of course she had known that Mia’s sudden disappearance from the family had been hard on the kids. She had known that they were sad and that they couldn’t really understand why that decision had been made or at least why Mia wasn’t taken back to them now that Oliver was back with them. Until now, the thought that their reaction to Mia’s removal caused them to think such unthinkable thoughts.

“Of course not.” Oliver pushed at Millie’s hips lightly until she was standing in front of him, and he could look her in the eyes. “We would never just let you go and be okay with that. We would fight until you were back home with us.”

“But not for Mia?”

Millie looked at Oliver for a long moment. He didn’t have an answer for her. Neither had Feliciy. So Millie probably made her own answer of that, turned around and walked away.

The silence Oliver and Felicity were left in was deafening. Felicity doubted that she’d feel worse if Millie had cried and screamed at them and just told them that she hated them. This was at least just as bad.

→ → → → →

When the alarm went off, Felicity felt Oliver rolling onto his side and switching it off. With a sigh, he turned back on his back again and looked at the ceiling just like she was. She hadn’t caught any sleep last night, and there was no use asking Oliver. He had been lying in bed next to her and brooded at least as loudly as she had.

“We need to talk to Millie again today,” Felicity said quietly, still looking at the ceiling.

“I know.” Oliver sighed. “I have been trying to find out what we could tell her, but nothing has come to mind. Have you thought about anything reasonable?”

“We will tell her that we have tried to get Mia back, but that we just don’t have many rights because we aren’t her legal parents. With her, that is different. We have more rights and we would use them to fight until she was back home with us.”

Oliver didn’t have to say anything for Felicity to know what he was thinking. Was that really enough to convince Millie? Would she understand and accept this answer? Felicity doubted it, and she knew Oliver was thinking the same.

There had been a lot of impossibilities in their lives, and they had always fought against it until they had succeeded. This time, they had made a few calls, met a couple of people and that had been it.

“I will make breakfast.” Felicity rolled to the edge of the bed and put on one of Oliver’s large hoodies that had been discarded on the floor. “Take your time with the shower.”

It was her way of telling him that she wanted a moment for herself, and she knew that Oliver would agree.

Felicity went to the kitchen barefoot and headed right for the coffee machine. Smiling, she found that Oliver had prepared it before they had gone to bed last night already. He had known already that she would need that coffee first thing in the morning.

With the mug of hot coffee between both of her hands, she went to the kitchen island, rested her elbows on the counter and closed her eyes for a moment as she breathed in the smell of coffee. She wasn’t surprised that the scent didn’t relax her as much as it usually did. It was a lot to ask of coffee to take away worries like hers.

She was about to try and distract herself by preparing breakfast when one of the smaller alarms she had set up for the security went off. Frowning, she went over to the nearest display and found that the elevator was being used. There were no signs of a break-in, but since she hadn’t been informed of a visitor by any member of the security team, she guessed someone must have sneaked past them.

Well, at least that would get her mind off the conversation she would have to have with Millie later today.

Felicity took her tablet and called up the control panel for the penthouse. She was already about to stop the elevator when she decided to take a quick look at the footage from inside the elevator first-

and felt her heart stop beating.

The entire world seemed to stop around her. Time froze and refused to continue. Felicity felt unable to move, unable to think. She was unable to do anything but stare.

Only Oliver’s quick steps behind her made time go on again. She turned around to him, still feeling trapped in time, only able to move very slowly. Oliver was standing there in jeans and a white shirt, his muscles tense, his face worried.

“The alarm went off,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

Felicity opened her lips to say something, but no sound came out. She tried again, but the result was the same.

In that moment, the quiet pling! of the elevator made Oliver turn around and hurry to the entrance area to face the intruder. It took a moment until Felicity could convince her feet to follow Oliver.

And there they were. The elevator doors were already closing behind Mrs. Wheeler, who was holding a bouncy Mia in her arms.

Oliver and Felicity just stared at the visitors, neither of them able to speak. Again, it felt like time had been frozen though Mia didn’t seem trapped in time. She went back and forth between babbling to her stuffed sloth behind her pacifier and squealing at Oliver and Felicity. Mrs. Wheeler just smiled softly, not saying a word. She didn’t seem to be frozen in time either, Felicity realized, but rather just patiently waiting for them to process this visit.

“Mrs. Wheeler,” Oliver was the first to find his voice again, “what are you doing here?”

Mrs. Wheeler’s smile grew even softer. “You might have heard about the protestors that have been taking up position in front of our offices?”

“Yes, it was on the news.”

“Well, they called our offices at least a hundred times since early last morning to talk about this case, so my boss eventually decided to call in an emergency meeting and revisit this case.”

Only now Felicity realized that she wasn’t breathing and sucked in a much-needed breath. She believed that she understood what Mrs. Wheeler was trying to tell her, but she didn’t dare to hope. That hope she had felt yesterday when she had heard about the protests had already been too much.

“I- I don’t think I understand,” Oliver said, his voice shaking slightly. “What are you saying?”

As if she had understood what was being talked about, Mia leaned forward in Mrs. Wheeler’s arms, reached out her hands in on Oliver and Felicity’s direction and said, “Mama. Dada.”

“I couldn’t have said it better.”

Mrs. Wheeler crossed the distance towards Oliver and Felicity. Since Mia’s arms were still reached out for them, Felicity automatically lifted Mia into her own arms and held her against her chest. Immediately, Mia’s face brightened with a wide smile, and Felicity felt her breath getting shaky.

“Before you outed yourself to be the Green Arrow, we thought of you as the perfect family for Mia,” Mrs. Wheeler explained, “but after you turned yourself in, we had to react. The president pardoned you though, so the reasons for taking her away have actually been erased.”

“But you said-“

“I know.” Mrs. Wheeler’s smile turned almost a little sad. “We said that Mia needed stability more than anything, and we still think so. I was finally able to make everyone see that Mia finds stability in you more than in anything or anyone else though.”

Mia clutched her sloth to her chest and leaned her head against Felicity’s chin with a sigh. Felicity kissed her forehead and pressed her nose against the top of Mia’s head. Her arms tightened around her. Even if someone tried to take her away from her again, she wouldn’t let them.

“And her foster parents?” Oliver asked, taking a step close to Felicity and rubbing his hand up and down Mia’s back. “What did they say?”

“Their report about Mia’s time with them actually made most of my colleagues agree to bring her back to you. They told them about how restless Mia was. She didn’t like to eat much and she-“

“Mia!”

At the excited exclaim behind her, Felicity turned around to find Millie standing there. The five-year-old ran towards her parents and her youngest sister. When Felicity kneeled down on the floor, Millie hugged Mia tightly and peppered her face with kisses that made Mia giggle.

The loud noises seemed to wake the rest of the kids. One by one, they came from their rooms, saw Mia and joined the reunion on the floor of the entrance area until they were all sitting there. Mia was in the middle of it all, slightly overwhelmed, but obviously very happy. Only Oliver was still standing, looking at the scene before him like he couldn’t process.

“I will give a moment to enjoy as a family,” Mrs. Wheeler said, “if you could just tell me where to wait, so we can discuss the next steps for Mia’s adoption.”

“The kitchen,” Oliver suggested, gesturing towards it, “there is coffee and-“

“I’ll be fine.” Mrs. Wheeler smiled once more before she turned and left to go.

While the kids were still telling Mia how much they had missed her and how much she had missed in these last weeks, Oliver just watched them. Felicity knew how he felt because she was feeling the same. If she hadn’t felt Mia’s heartbeat against her chest a couple of minutes ago, she wouldn’t be able to process this at all either. Even now she was scared that she would just wake up and all of this had just been a dream.

When Felicity reached out a hand for Oliver, he took it and let himself be pulled down on the floor with the rest of the family.

“This feels like a dream,” he whispered what she had thought before and finally turned his head to look at her. “Is it?”

Felicity shook her head and squeezed Oliver’s hand. “This is real. Mia is back with us.”

Her words seemed to be what he had needed. A smile spread on Oliver’s lips and he put an arm around Felicity’s shoulder to pull her into a tight hug. They had been lucky before because they had gotten out of that impossible situation that Blood Rose had put them through. Now with Mia back with them, they were more than lucky. They were experiencing the highest form of happiness one could feel. This was what it had to be to be truly and implicitly happy.

[unknownfrom34]

Either Come Back With Your Shield or On It.

The title is inspired by the quote made by the Spartans, it is for @muzzleroars obviously, this story will be after this and before this if I had to be honest. Also, story is based on what they said here and I seized it.

I haven't worked on this until a few days ago, I had to finish up writing this up today. Enjoy!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"...So you two are willing to learn how to fight?"

The older Archangel looked down at the two smaller Archangels, Michael and Gabriel, one looked nervous as the other was a tad less than his older brother.

Azazel cocked his head to the side, a smile cannot be seen from under his helm. The two brothers looked at each other and then back at the teacher and trainer. They nodded.

Azazel leaned in closer towards them, his light pink closing ever slightly and his hands on his hips. "You two think that you will throw yourselves at each other and throwing paws willy-nilly will be a way to fighting? Lucifer had told me how you two have fought the moment you were brought to life." he then shook his head.

He looked at them closely. Gabriel is shorter than Michael, Michael is a lion cub but a lion cub that is all skin and bone while the hatchling has a little bit more meat on his bones than the latter. "No offense, but I do not think that tactic is going to save you cherubs the trouble."

"Are you saying that we are weak?" Gabriel lifted his head up towards the older knight before him. Azazel chuckled lightly at this question. "Oh boyo, I am not saying it but the way you two are; could be but I can change that."

"But, why would Father need an army?"

Azazel could only look at Michael. "You talk too much, boys."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"And make sure your Light is channeled into your thoughts if you desire to have a weapon in hand." Azazel crosses his arms as his wings beat steadily. Looking down at Gabriel who looks uneasy.

"I-I am not too sure on how I can think..." "The think you will be able to do in mind, but-" Azazel turned towards Lucifer's personal guard, Beelzebub, who had one pair of arms crossed, the other pair on his hips, and the final pair are either held a spear or laying by his side, the four eye holes glanced up to Azazel and gave him a firm nod. "I will help you out on this matter, look upon me, little lamb." Azazel turned his head, unsheathing his sword and held it upward horizontally, held it there for a moment. "Look at this sword, and, although if you still can't think; recreate this in your head."

Gabriel looked at him for a moment, hesitating for a moment as Azazel held it for a few minutes before lowering it down and sheathing it. "Now you get to do it too."

Gabriel was worried still but he considered the advice, creating weapons from thin air using his Light can't be that hard, right? Gabriel held his shaking hand upward and then he strained his mind, he grunted for a moment like he was putting into the effort in doing so. It seemed like it wasn't working until he started to feel something; the air felt dry before he jumped slightly once he saw a crackle electricity for a moment before it formed into something. The wisps of electricity and hard light shaped roughly before it formed a perfectly shaped sword but it wasn't Azazel's that he knew.

This sword was curved and single edged blade with a circle guard and in fact, it was long grip that made him grabbed onto it with two hands. He grunts in surprised once he was losing balance, steadied himself once he got a good grip. He heard Azazel laughed as he flew down to the startled Cherub. His feet planted onto the ground, looking at the newly made weapon of light. "I have never seen anything like this before, boy."

Gabriel smiled sheepishly.

"Now," Azazel rubbing his palms together. "Once you and Michael start training, you will remember this one quote I have been working on in mind in case you will need it in battle: You can either come back with your shield or on it."

Gabriel nodded silghtly. "Alright." He took a deep breath. "Where can we start?"

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Lucifer had to admit it, he had made a wise choice in selecting Michael in being a new Prince of Heaven and yet, as his personal guard had put it: Fairly stubborn.

This cherub of an Archangel wanted to wrestle any threats that dared come at their way once they brought light to all. "Do you think that you are still too young for being a hero, Michael?" Beelzebub spoke gently with a hint of sarcasm, standing by Lucifer as per usual. "Anyone can be a hero at a young age." Michael rebuked, like before when he wanted to challenge his elder brother.

"But you are still too young to be one." "I know Lucifer, but if anyone had ever threaten all of Heaven, I will litter them in chains within seconds!" He spread out his four wings in many shades of purple as he does a heroic pose dramatically, "You may not know it, Beelzebub doesn't know it, even the Father himself knows it but I have got the moves!"

His usually dark mask's right eye shifted, unamused yet entertained by this. "Oh really now?" he tilted his head towards the right for a little bit.

"And what moves are you talking about, Michael?" Beelzebub questioned, confused.

"Well, I don't think that the celestial army knows this but I have a moves called "the Shredder!"" he whipped his chains around but he ends up on his butt upon doing so in a twirl. "A-And then I call this the-" He then created a staff from thin air, using the Light within him thanks to Azazel's teachings. "The Flare of Death!" he spun and twirled around the place, the so-called "The Flare of Death" does not include fire, it is just Michael swinging a hard-light stick around like a club before stopping for a moment to look around as if he was facing an invisible enemy.

"I am sure our enemies will run away before they could even face you." Lucifer mused, before long he looked somewhere unimportant. until, his expression shifted to worry and fear right away as he saw something. He lets out a startled gasp. "We are being invaded! They are coming for us!"

Michael had stopped his self-imposed battle play, his staff vanishing into thin air, his fire on his head shifted into pale yellow color, color of fear. As he ran towards to hid behind Beelzebub who looked ready to attack whoever had invaded Heaven as he shouted "Where!?" Upon a sight he caused, Lucifer could only chuckled at this sight, he was relaxed as usual. His personal guard and younger brother looked at him, confused. It took Beelzebub a good moment to realize what is happening. Lucifer had tricked them, and tricked them good. "Typical." Lucifer scoffed, crossing his arm around his waist, leaving one to cover where his mouth should be. Michael poked out from behind Beelzebub once he realized what had happened as well, he chuckled nervously. "You..." he started to say. "You got me good, actually." Lucifer lightly chuckled.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"What do you think the Father is doing now?"

Lucifer turned to his personal guard, Beelzebub, who was created long before the birth of the special cherubs known as the Archangels. Basically he was somewhat curious on what plans now for the future.

"I am more curious as you, Beelzebub." Lucifer answered slightly, simply shrugged his wings for a little. "The reason why the Father wanted my help in creating them is unknown to both of us. But afterwards, He had spoke that He will be postponing any births of our people and spheres for a few months until He declared Himself feels refreshed enough to continue." He trailed off, looking at the ceiling of his chambers.

"I can not help but feel that I am somewhat justified."

"What do you mean, Lucifer?"

"I had expressed concerns that His Light will run out if he continues on making more. Think of it as you need clay to make more. And more to the extent of nearly running out." Lucifer looked at his friend once again. "Except the clay is a part of you, and you kept using it until you've nearly have exhausted your body. To the point of burning out."

This weighs on Beelzebub for a long while, turning over each word the Light Bringer had told him. Endless vs. Limited. He wasn't sure which to pick.

"You think that He-?" "I wanted to believe Him but I think it is best that we must let the Father rest for now." Lucifer rationalized, shaking his head with his eye closed, waving his hand a little moment. "He truly needed it the most."

Beelzebub looked at Lucifer, then a mischievous thought came into thought. "Much like you wanted to with me by your side?"

Lucifer's flames flared with a slight red and pink hue with widen eye out of embarrassment and shock. "Beelzebub!"

Lucifer's guard raised his hand to his helm to cover the non-visible mouth to stifle a chuckle. Ever since he was born, since he had gotten to know the Morningstar himself, he knows EXCATLY how to ruffle his feathers. Lucifer is adorable in this way that he blushes.

Cute even.

Beelzebub then waved his hand dismissively.

"I am only joking, Lucifer."

[stay-armycrtz]

Sugar and spice- with everything nice

I am officially back! I've been away for a longg time and am now officially putting my work back out there! I've moved over from my Styles account and am now here- mad crazy for everything Kpop and my boys! 

You'll soon be able to see which fandoms I'm mad about and I will also make a new master list- as soon as I figure out how to work this app again! 

Without further ado! Here's Sugar and spice- with everything nice. Bang Christopher Chan version! 

--------------

Y/N shoves another tray of chocolate chip muffins into her beloved oven, slamming the door closed with a huff once the tray was placed down on the shelf. The noise that squeezes it was past her lips borders on a small growl and her normally well loved kitchen shivers in response to the noise. Y/N moves away from the oven and leans over the kitchen counter, placing her head in her hands and massaging at her temples- the ever present headache she’d had since her and Chan had started arguing had slowly been getting worse. These are not the sounds she usually makes in her kitchen, never banging and huffing around. Y/N’s happy place has always been her kitchen, it’s somewhere she smiles without even realising it, where she sways her hips to the beat of Stray Kids or 3RACHA songs without even realising what she’s doing, all the while food sizzles in pans and delicious smells flood their home.

Today, Y/N is anything but happy. Today, Y/N’s face is pinched up into a permanent scowl rather than the happy/pleased smile she usually wears in her kitchen. No music plays and even if it did Y/N was in absolutely no mood to be dancing around the kitchen. Not a single word had worked it’s way past her lips since Chan has left hours ago.

She’s just wasting time. She knows exactly what she’s doing- there’s papers sitting in her desk in her office. Papers that she really should be grading- her student are eventually going to need them back. But here she stands, glowering at her kitchen instead. Baking. Angrily. Any chance that she may have had at focusing at her work was long gone, and had been- the second that they had started fighting.

“Oh, I could kill him,” Y/N growls into the quiet of the room as she snatches up the mixing bowl she had just finished using, she looks down at the bowl, debating if she could be bothered to clean them again. She shakes her head, deciding to just get another one from the cupboard by the sink. She had several sets for this purpose- well, not this purpose- so that she can keep baking, without needing to constantly clean, for special occasions like Christmas or their birthdays. Chan has always made sure that she had loads of baking equipment to use.

Y/N drags another set of bowls out from the cupboard and places them on the side to start mixing together another batch of cake batter. This time she decides she’s going to use dark chocolate because she knows that Cham prefers milk chocolate. He had always preferred the milk over any other kind of chocolate.

It’s not very often that her and Chan fight, it’s not. But when they do… they can be ridiculous, sometimes their fights only last a few house, sometimes days. This time it’s the latter kind of fight. Y/N’s not even sure where Chan is right now, she thinks he’s probably at the gym, more than likely he’s at the studio. Those are the places that he usually goes when he storms off, it’s Chans own way of clearing his head- just like the kitchen usually is for Y/N.

When Y/N’s phone vibrates on the kitchen counter, she snatches it up- uncaring of the flour that she’s getting all over the device, only to realise that the notification is another email from one of her students asking about one of the assignments. Not a single message from Chan, he’s being stubborn now, not even texting her to let her know where he is and when exactly he plans on showing his face and actually coming home. To be fair, Y/N’s being exactly the same, she hasn’t messaged Chan all day either. And she certainly isn’t going to be the first one to cave and give in, she’s not going to be the first one to message him. She throws her phone back onto the counter and moves back to the cake batter, she picks the bowl up and starts spooning the batter into cake cases, waiting to be able to put them into the oven.

Y/N decides that since she’s done everything else from scratch she might as well make the frosting for the cakes from scratch as well, it’ll take longer- not that the frosting will take long to make, it’s just a little extra time she doesn’t have to think the argument she’s having with Chan. The fact that the frosting only takes an extra 10 minutes to make frustrates her to no end, and she slams the spatula that she had been using down on the counter. It’s really not fair, the spatula and her poor kitchen hadn’t done anything wrong and here she was, taking her frustrations out on her kitchen.

She’s in the middle of frosting the first batch of cakes when she hears the front door open. Y/N actually feels how her spine stiffens and she turns her body just enough that she can’t see him coming down the hallway. She can tell that it’s Chan regardless on if she can see him or not, the sound of his front door keys hitting the glass bowl to the side of the door and the sound of him slipping of his shoes- them being left to lay in a semi neat pile just inside as familiar as her own breath.

Y/N glances up, listening out over her shoulder for Chan in the hallway, she can hear him coming, he’s walking slower than he normally would, and he doesn’t even stop or say anything when he enters the kitchen. Anger wells up in Y/N chest, the silent treatment that they had with each other had finally reached its limit, for her anyways.

“Are you kidding me?” Y/N shouts as she spins around to look at Chan, her jaw set tight as she clenches her teeth, her small fists clenched down at her sides. “Not a single word?”

Chan, earphone in his ears, just stands there for a few seconds, staring at her. Just like Y/N thought he’d been at the gym, his gym bag sat near his feet, a small towel rapped around his neck, hair damp- Y/N’s going to assume his showered. Of course, he looks amazing, standing there all sexy, muscles bulging out of his gym shirt, hair ruffled. God damn Bang Christopher Chan for being so sexy when all Y/N wanted to do was be mad at him.

Before Chan even takes his earphones out of his ears, he shakes his head, “You didn’t say anything to me either Y/N,” he growls in response to her comment,

“And how exactly would you know,” she counters, he’s not wrong. She didn’t. “Maybe I did, how would you know when you had your earphones in!”

Chan blinks at her, shaking his head again, “You didn’t though, and I was only listening to some music,”

“That’s…” she huffs again, “That’s not the point and you know it!” She clenches her teeth again, fists clenching even tighter down by her legs, “And where have you been?” She questions back. Chan looks down at his gym clothes and then back at Y/N, as though the answer should’ve been obvious enough that she shouldn’t have needed to ask.

“The gym,” he grunts back, “I’m going to get changed,”

“And I suppose it would’ve killed you to pick up the phone and at least text me, or call?” She shouts at him before he can even move.

“It’s not like you called or texted me either is it Y/N!” Chan shouts right back,” You didn’t seem that interested in knowing where I was either,”

Chan’s right. Y/N knows that he’s right. He’s not right about Y/N not wanting to know where he was, she had wanted to at least know that. Y/N was very interested in knowing where he’d been the last couple of hours, she was just being stubborn- not wanting to cave and text him first. It was silly, she knows that. It was silly and immature, but Y/N’s sure as hell not going to admit that.

Y/N doesn’t know when she does it, hasn’t got a single clue why she picks one up but her hand reaches for a frosted cupcake and then all of a sudden she’s shoving it into Chan’s face. Chan gasps as the cupcake makes contact with his face, the cupcake crumbles to pieces and falls to his feet on the floor. Crumbs fall down onto the front of his t-shirt, the salted caramel frosting that Y/N had decided on smeared across his cheek down to his chin.

With the remains of a cupcake falling down his shirt, Chan just stands there, his mind not quite grasping what Y/N had just done. He’s half confused, not sure on what’s just happened and how the hell he’s meant to respond. Chan reaches up to wipe the frosting off his face but his hand never touches his skin to get rip of the sticky mess.

Y/N has absolutely no idea what in the hell made her decide to do that, she can’t take it back now, she’s not even sure if she would take it back. Chan’s reaction-or lack there of- is so funny that Y/N doubles over, laughing. She can’t help it, she definitely shouldn’t be laughing. It was extremely immature or her but she couldn’t help herself, and Chan didn’t look like he was finding the funny side of the whole situation.

“I’m…I’m so-“ Y/N stutters out, she can’t decide if she should wrap her arms around herself or cover her mouth to stop the flow of giggles from coming out. “I’m sorry, Chan! I don’t know what… I’m so sorry!”

Licking at his lips, Chan can taste some of the caramel frosting that she had decided to use, he nods his head slowing making his way towards her, his slow approach makes Y/N back up further into the kitchen, she’s really not sure what Chan’s response is going to be.

“Chan, no I…” Y/N doesn’t even know how she can explain what she just did, let alone try and justify it, if also doesn’t help matters that she’s still laughing. “It was funny! A little. You would’ve done the same thing!”

It takes Y/N’s back hitting the counter top on the other side of the kitchen for her to realise that Chan had backed her that far into the kitchen. Chan nods his head again, a little nod and a sarcastic little smirk works it’s way onto his face. Chan reaches behind Y/N, and before she can even realises what’s happening, a full measuring cup of flour is being poured over he head, falling into her hair and down onto her shoulder.

“OH!” She shrikes,

Chan steps back and crosses his arms, smirk still ever present on his beautiful face, “See? I can be funny too.”

Now as well as cupcake crumbs being all over the floor of her kitchen there was a whole measuring cup of flour, and now instead of what was genuine laughter coming from her mouth only moments before, Chans laughter was anything but.

For the exact same reason that Chan didn’t find it funny, Y/N doesn’t either. She can’t even remember why she found it so funny in the first place. And now, instead of just being angry at Chan, Y/N was seething. And instead of going about the argument in a mature adult way, she looks along her counter top for something that she can throw back at Chan. There’s still some left over cake batter in one of the mixing bowls on the counter top, just sitting there, just waiting for her to pick it up. Right there. Right where she was standing. Y/N scoops up a handful of batter and tries to fling it at Chan, only to have her hand caught mid-air, most of the cake batter ends up on the floor- joining the cake crumbs and flour- Chan does however, need to quickly jerk his head to the side to miss getting what’s left of the batter in his face. He gets some, but instead of getting it all, he only gets a small splatter of batter across his cheek, joining the already smeared frosting.

“What the hell has gotten into you today!” Chan asks, shaking his head as if that would remove some of the batter from his cheeks.

“You!” Y/N exclaims, pulling at her hand to try and get out of Chans hold, “You’ve gotten into me!”

“Yeah,” Chan huffs as he drops Y/N wrist and steps back away from her, “You wish,”

A gasp works it’s way up Y/N throat, squeezing past her lips, she’s not sure if it’s because of what Chan said, the way he said it, or if it’s even the way he let go of her hand and backed up. She all of a sudden doesn’t want what’s happening to carry on, she wants Chan to hold her. Not even 2 seconds ago she was trying her hardest to get out of his grip, but now, she’d give anything to be back in his arms. To hell with this argument, she doesn’t care who’s right or wrong, Y/N just wants this to be over.

Chan’s whole attitude has shifted too, it’s subtle- but it’s there. His eyes has softened and his lips are now slightly turned down into a frown instead of pressed together in a hard line. His entire posture, instead of trying to get away from Y/N, seems just about ready to comfort her, or seek some form of comfort from her.

They both stand there, staring at each other- Chan’s face covered in frosting and cake batter, and Y/N covered in flour, cake batter dripping from her hand. All of a sudden Y/N’s throwing her self into Chan’s arms- or Chan’s lunging at her- either way, there both a complete and utter mess, and all over each other.

Messy hands and all, Y/N gets a tight grip on Chan’s hair and pulls him closer to her, her legs moving up to wrap around his, Chans hands fitting snugly around her ass. It doesn’t even matter that their making each other even messier, the combination of cake batter, flour and frosting getting everywhere. Y/N would spend everyday like this, if she could.

“Oh my god,” Y/N groans against Chans lips, already breathless, “you taste amazing, Chan,”

“Mmh,” Chan’s hands grip Y/N’s ass even tighter, lifting her up a little higher so her legs can wrap around his waist completely, “cause’ your baking is amazing,”

Y/N huffs a small laugh into their next kiss, “Not what I meant,”

Chan laughs back, “I know, still the truth though,”

Y/N no longer in the mood for their arguing, shrugs her shoulders, allowing Chan to move backwards in the kitchen and drop her onto the counter. She complains at this, all of her measuring cups, bowls and bags of different ingredients go crashing to the floor.

“My cakes!” She shouts, “watch my cakes,”

Chan nods his head, even as he begins to draw Y/N top up and off her body, only stopping to answer her when the offending piece of clothing is up and off her body, dropped onto the floor.

“I can see your cakes,” he growls back at her, voice heated. “Now stay still,”

A small whimper falls from her lips, goosebumps rise all over her skin, even with the whole house being nice and toasty with all of the baking that she had been doing all day. Y/N can’t help it, not with way that Chan’s talking to her. Chan drags his fingers down her throat and front, his fingers grazing over her nipples through the lace of her bra and she arches into his touch, her whole body coming alive.

Chan leans down, licking at the skin above the top of her bra, Y/N can feel how wet she’s becoming. Her whole core tingling, wanting Chan to touch her. Needing Chan to touch her. Chan reaches up behind Y/N and unclasps her bra, it falls lose around her tits and Chan drags it down completely, it swiftly joining her top on the floor. Chan starts mouthing at her chest, the skin rolled between his lips, his teeth lightly grazing over her nipple, just enough for her to arch her whole body into his touch, her core clenching and flooding with wetness.

Y/N reaches out and grips Chan’s chin, pulling him up and slamming her lips to his, a resounding moan works it’s way past Chan’s lips as Y/N works her way down his neck, mouthing and nipping at the skin she can reach from her position on the counter. There’s already pretty red marks blooming underneath the skin that she’s nibbling on. Chan let’s out a small whimper, Y/N pulling him closer so she can grind down on his leg, trying her absolute hardest to get some form of friction against her core.

“Fuck,” Chan groans into her ear, “gonna fuck you right here... right in your kitchen,”

Of course he is. And of course Y/N wants him too, wants him to take her where she sits. And she sure as hell isn’t going to say anything to stop Chan’s train of thought or argue with him.

There close enough now that when Y/N slips her hand down Chan’s front her hand automatically searches for his cock so she can wrap her hand around his head. She finds him quick enough, hand gripping him as he begins sucking his own marks into the skin of her neck. Chan had always loved marking her up, loved seeing the small round marks all over her skin.

Y/N’s fingers work over Chan’s head, his eyes widening, mouth going slack, his groans and whimpers muffled into the skin of her neck. Y/N grins at his response a small huff of a laugh working its way out of her mouth. Chan’s own lips curl up into his own smirk when he looks up at her.

“You think your funny, don’t you?” He grins at her, Y/N shrugs her shoulders in response, “I think you’re a brat,”

Chan reaches up and tugs at the hair at the base of her neck, pulling her head so that she’s looking up at him. Chan bends down and starts sucking on her neck again, nibbling at the skin. No doubt leaving even more marks that Y/N will most likely flush over when she looks at herself in the mirror later.

“Chan… daddy,” Y/N groans, it sounds more like a whine, both to her ears and Chan’s, “I…”

“You what, Y/N?”

There is not a single word or response that Y/N can think of that is an appropriate answer to what Chan is asking. She does however know that she can do more for Chan than just sitting in the kitchen counter looking pretty, kissing at his neck, but as soon as she tries to slide of the counter top to get down on her knees in front of him, Chan grips at her hips to keep her positioned on the counter.

“Where do you think your going?” Chan asks as soon as she tries to move herself of the counter top, “I thought I told you to stay still?”

Without even waiting to hear what she has to say in response, Chan’s yanking at her leggings, pulling them down her legs with enough strength that Y/N has to lean back and grip the edge of the counter so that she doesn’t fall off. Once the legging were down her legs they also get thrown into the collected pile of her clothes on the floor. Chan bends down and bites up her thighs, being less than gentle about the marks he was probably leaving. Chan reaches the apex of her thigh and noses at her through her panties, breathing in deeply, he groans deep in his chest at her scent.

“You smell so good baby,” Chan groans into her skin, he pulls her panties to spine side and runs his tongue up her centre to her clit, Y/N whines, her head falling back, hitting the cupboard behind her head. Chan’s still bent down, head buried in her core, tongue still running up and down, trying to taste as much of her as he can. Chan lifts his head, still tonguing at her and smirks at how wrecked she looks. Huffing out a laugh at how quickly he was able to bring her to the edge in such a short amount of time. Y/N grins back at him, her hand training down and gripping in his hair, pulling him up her body and slamming her lips against his, letting her tongue explore his mouth. Tasting herself in Chan’s mouth she slides her way down the counter, her body grinding against Chan’s the whole way down so that she’s standing next to Chan.

The second Y/N’s feet touch the floor, the second before she can sink down onto the knees in front of him and get Chan’s delicious cock into her watering mouth, Chan’s turning her around and shoving her over the counter she was just sitting on. Bending her over so her ass is sticking out, he lands a quick swat to her left cheek.

“Don’t even think about moving pet,” Chan growls out as he bends down to bite at the skin on the base of her neck, Y/N groans, her pussy flooding with so much wetness she’s pretty sure she can feel it leaking down her thighs.

“Don’t wanna,” Y/N whines back at Chan, attempting to stand back up, she doesn’t get very far before Chan is shoving her back down- holding her there this time- and landing two more smacks to her ass, he growls, really not in the mood for her to be even a little disobedient right now.

“Stay fuckin’ still. I mean it Y/N,”

There’s already bring red hand marks blossoming across the cheek where Chan had decided to spank her, he doesn’t mind – neither does she- clearly loving the expense of red marks that he’s leaving against her beautifully pale skin. Y/N whimpers, legs shaking as Chan slowly drags his hands over the marks,

“See baby, all you had to do was listen,” he coos, she knows by the tone of his voice his not the least bit sorry about the marks on her skin, “just listen, and then daddy wouldn’t have had to spank you,”

She knows he’s right. He’d probably been right all along, this however, is the only situation that she would willingly agree with him,

“Know daddy, didn’t wanna though,” she murmurs back to him.

“I’m fully aware of that fact let,” Chan says into her skin, his hand gently running over her soft ass, “are you going to listen now?” He question, his grip slacking that was still holding her down.

“Yes. Please,” she whines back, pushing her ass out into his hand, Chan lowers his hand, just enough that his fingers are running over her sopping core, she whines again, pushing harder so that his fingers push into her.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines again when Chan moves his down to push against her opening, “Chan…”

Chan responds by shoving his fingers into her, pulling yet another wine out of her mouth, this only makes Chan shove his fingers in harder, faster. Once again bringing her close to the edge she was tethering on earlier.

Chan keeps it up, shoving his fingers in and out of her, working his way up to two before she even realises what his doing. Y/N whines and groans, trying her hardest not to buck down against his hand- which is really difficult considering the fact that every few thrusts of Chans fingers, he drags the across the spot inside her that makes her toes curl and almost fall over the edge she so desperately wants to.

“Fuck! Fuck,” she almost screams, “right there! Please daddy! Right there,” Y/N turns her head to the left, Chan see this and gives her exactly what she wants, shoving his tongue into her mouth and kissing her so hard that she doesn’t even realise that his fingers have slipped out of her and he’s working in shoving his cock inside her.

She screams into the kiss, eyes snapping open as she’s stretched around his huge cock. Chan keeps her hips still, still kissing her lips as he begins to thrust away at her core, pulling almost the whole way out before he’s shoving his cock back inside, all the way down to the base, his hips pressed up against her red ass. She whines, mouth falling open as tears worm their way past her eyes falling down her cheeks she has never felt this good.

“Good pet,” Chan groans in her ear, hand moving up to grip at her throat, he squeezes slightly. Not enough to cut of her air, just enough that she can feel his hand. Just enough that she wants.

“Holy fuck,” she whimpers back, “god yes, daddy.”

Chan snaps his hips faster, he can feel how wet she is. Can feel it practically dripping down her thighs and onto the floor. This makes Chan groan, makes him realise that his release is some much closer than he thought.

“Come on baby, come for daddy,” he reaches down, his fingers rubbing at her clit as he still relentlessly pounds away at her core, chasing his own release so they can come together.

Y/N comes, her whole world shattering behind her eyes as she creams on Chans cock, his following her over, shoving his cock so deep and hard inside her it lifts her off her toes. He comes so much it overflows, his mess joining hers on her thighs and the mess on the floor.

——

They end up on the floor, both curled around each other, sitting amongst the mess of cake batter, flour, crumbs and all of Y/N’s baking equipment. All of which is waiting to be picked up, dusted off and out back into its rightful place in her now once again happy kitchen.

“Didn’t hurt you did I?” Chan whispers into her ear after a few minutes of them lying together, basking in their glow together. He’d taken his shirt of- god knows when- considering it was covered in a multitude of different things, and Y/N runs her hands down his stomach.

“No,” Y/N grins back up at him.

“Good, Y/N… I… I’m so sorry, I should-“

“No Chan! Please, it was my fault,” Y/N interrupts his talking, “it really was my fault,”

She stops talking, their quite with each other, calm. And for a few moments they just lay there, wrapped around each other. Y/N snuggles down closer into Chans chest, and they sit and do absolutely noting. She hopes their done fighting now, she definitely is.

“Hey Y/N,”

Y/N turns her head, looking Chan in the eyes, nodding her head and waiting for him to ask his question.

“Do you?… do you remember why we were fighting?” He asks, face scrunched up into beautiful confusion.

Y/N pulls the exact same face, racking her brain to see if she can remember what had been the cause of all of this, “No. No I don’t.” She states, almost as though it’s a question.

“Yeah,” Chan murmurs, his eyes widening slightly, a small smile working its way onto his face, “me neither,”

They sit there, looking at each other. Matching looks on both their faces, and then suddenly their laughing. Grasping at each other as giggles work past their lips. Eventually they both decide they should get up and get themselves and her poor kitchen clean. Y/N turns off the oven, the cakes that she had been cooking were most definitely ruined by now- she’ll make new ones anyways, this time with milk chocolate instead of dark just to make sure that Chan eats them. They both walk naked towards the stairs, Chan insisting that they get themselves clean and dry before they attempt to clean her ruined kitchen.

“Hey Chan?” Y/N murmurs, being up to kiss the corner of his mouth, Cham hums out his response. “We should solve all of our problems like this from now on,” he laughs head thrown back slightly, eyes creasing shut. He smacks her ass and she squeals in answer, her ass still sore from the slight spanking that she had gotten earlier. Y/N speeds up a little, almost running up the stairs to the bathroom, and into the shower, hers and Chans laughter fill the now happy house, the argument they had long forgotten.

-----------------

AHHHH!!!! 

She’s back!!! 

Let me know what you think! Missed you!

Dari! 

[dsandrvk]

Thursday, August 15 - Wayag Islands

We tried to fit as much into today as possible, and pretty much succeeded. We had signed up for a kayak trip today, which was leaving at 10:45, so had time to do the first Zodiac trip of the day at 7:45, even though it wasn't our "color group". We had to get up at dawn for it to happen, but we are at the equator (actually just north here at our positioning - we can't anchor, so just use GPS and thrusters to keep in place). As a result, first light is quickly followed by full day, and by our launch time it was already warm and sunny.

We were lucky to have Jess as our Zodiac driver, and she and fellow expedition staffer Peter told us a lot about the rock formations here. Although things can look vaguely volcanic, everything here is actually limestone, laid down and compressed eons ago. Between the natural fault lines and the slightly acidic sea and rain, the rocks have been worn down, leaving these wonderful mounded islands. Further erosion from the sea has also led to the undercutting of these islands, leaving lots of "mushroom" rocks. Here the tide is only about a meter or two, so much of the erosion happens during the cyclone season.

The bare karst rocks have over the years become thriving plant communities, in some ways similar to our desert southwest, where plants will use every trick to gain a foothold in what seems to be bare rock, gradually adding to create soil through decomposition, and then stretching their roots to find soil and nourishment and growing straight and tall to seek the sunlight. Although our weather was beautiful, the seas were quite choppy and we had a fairly bouncy ride from the ship into the lagoon, but once there it was smooth and lovely. The combination of the dark rocks, intense greenery and turquoise and aquamarine waters made for a colorful trip, and we even saw little bits of purple orchids clinging tenuously to the rocks.

After a couple of hours we were back on board the ship and ready to do it all again, this time from a kayak. We took another Zodiac back to a beach we hadn't seen before and had a couple of hours to paddle around the different formations. We were lucky in that everyone was an experienced paddler and so we were able to cover a lot of ground (or water). We paddled under some of the undercuts and through narrow channels, before finally finishing on a different beach where we took a swim before heading back to the ship. In the intense sun, we are trying to keep mostly covered, so the picture of me is in my sopping wet outfit.

After lunch we once again took a Zodiac out to a reef to snorkel over to a Zodiac platform, looking for lots of fish and critters. I saw a couple of anemone fish (Nemo types - also called Clownfish) next to an amazing coral shaped like a perfect sphere with little patterns. Unfortunately, my water camera has malfunctioned and although it was closed properly, it still managed to leak, so it appears to be "dead in the water", and has most likely fried the SD card that had my first two days of incredible snorkeling on it, so no pictures now or probably in the future. Things happen.

The snorkeling, while wonderful, was not quite as clear as it had been at Gam Island yesterday, but the latter is considered one of the best in the world, so that's an unfair comparison. There are so many types of coral here, and so many fish, that I could have snorkeled for hours, but we only had 45 minutes in the water, and then had our 6th Zodiac ride of the day through the choppy waves. Splashing wasn't a problem since it's plenty warm, and we were wet already.

We finished off our day with a recap and preview for tomorrow and decided to go up to the club for a sushi dinner, which was delicious and relaxing. Tomorrow we are going to another set of karst (limestone) islands, but while similar, they are more eroded into fanciful shapes, and also uninhabited (like today) except for a few diving camp/resorts. We have signed up for another kayak outing in the late morning, so will get up early to do the first Zodiac at 7:45 again. It will be an early to bed night!

[f1]

Aston Martin improved by 2.5 seconds while others only gained a tenth | Lap time watch: 2023 Bahrain Grand Prix

Aston Martin and Alfa Romeo fought over sixth place in last year’s world championship until the final lap. Alfa Romeo prevailed by the slimmest of margins: The two teams were tied on points, the final ranking decided on count-back of finishing positions. Three months later the picture is drastically different. Aston Martin were the talk of testing, topped two practice sessions in the opening race and delivered on much of that promise in qualifying. Fernando Alonso and Lance Stroll will line up fifth and eighth respectively tomorrow. To put that into perspective, neither of the team’s cars got out of Q1 last year. Nico Hulkenberg was their highest qualified in 17th, two places ahead of Stroll. Small wonder that Stroll was so eager to return from injury to get behind the wheel of the AMR23, which he says is a significant step forward from its predecessor in every area. “It’s everywhere,” he said. “Balance, grip, we’ve just improved everything.” But their former rivals are barely any quicker than they were at this track last year. While Aston Martin have taken the biggest step forward, Alfa Romeo have made the least progress, Valtteri Bottas lapping just a tenth of a second quicker than he did last year. Had Alexander Albon been able to complete his Q2 run without incurring damage on his Williams, Alfa Romeo could well have been the slowest team on the track. Interactive: Compare all 10 F1 cars of 2023 side-by-side Bottas’ team mate Zhou Guanyu was just three-hundredths of a second slower. He says progress has been made, but not on the scale of the teams’ rivals. “We obviously made a step in terms of performance compared to the last few races last year,” said Zhou. “But I feel like it’s quite clear some people made a huge step.” While there are some striking changes compared to last year, the latest cars have only appeared in public on one track so far, and it remains to be seen whether the gains produced in Bahrain will be replicated elsewhere on the calendar. In Alfa Romeo’s case, the team expected to make the greatest gains in high-speed corners, but there are relatively few of those in Bahrain. Aston Martin didn’t make all their progress over the winter. The team introduced a significant upgrade to its launch car early last season, which began to reap dividends in the latter half of the season. Nonetheless Aston Martin’s midfield rivals of 2022 can probably forget about fighting them this year. AlphaTauri’s Yuki Tsunoda admitted their performance “is miles away, I think, from top midfield.” “It’s not consistent yet, still I was lacking a bit of grip as well. So we need to find this performance as soon as possible.” There are plenty of other drivers in the same position after the first serious day of running in 2023. Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Teams performance Advert | Become a RaceFans supporter and go ad-free Field performance In the second year since F1 overhauled its technical regulations, teams have begun to find more performance from the rules. But while Max Verstappen’s pole position time is 0.85 seconds quicker than last year, it’s still 2.4 seconds off the quickest time around this circuit produced by F1’s downforce monsters of two years ago. Red Bull would need to emulate Aston Martin’s leap forward next winter to stand a chance of matching that time 12 months from now. NB. 2004 and 2010: Different track configuration used; 2011: Race cancelled Become a RaceFans Supporter RaceFans is run thanks in part to the generous support of its readers. By contributing £1 per month or £12 per year (or the same in whichever currency you use) you can help cover the costs of creating, hosting and developing RaceFans today and in the future. Become a RaceFans Supporter today and browse the site ad-free. Sign up or find out more via the links below: 2023 Bahrain Grand Prix Browse all 2023 Bahrain Grand Prix articles via RaceFans - Independent Motorsport Coverage https://www.racefans.net/

[pedropascalsx]

parts left, parts gained. {javier peña x f! reader}

summary: javier filled in for a lecturer friend as they take an extended break from teaching following his return from colombia.

warnings: a little angst, sadness, mentions of prescribed medications, very soft! javier peña, oral (f) receiving, p in v sex.

word count: 4.8k

eating: explicit

a/n: idk what this is. idk why i wrote it and im begging y’all to expect nothing from it, because it’s not very good.

not beta’d or read back because i cant read my own work ok.

thank you to my sweet loves @queenofthefaceless and @theewokingdead for being so supportive as i struggled my way through this.

These days sleep feels more like a distant memory than an everyday occurrence. His body craves it, his joints ache and cry out in the form of swelling and painful locking as they beg for some sort of relief, but instead he lives the pain. He tells himself it’s a small price he deserves to pay for all the mistakes he made along the way. Not so much a reminder that he survived, more like proof that he is paying for some of the crimes he’s created in his head. Each pull of the trigger, each order that soaked the streets with blood; even if they deserved it, he couldn’t get past contributing to the blood bath.

Every ache or jolt of pain forces him to relive a memory that he refuses to bury or justify. Each mistake weighs him down more and more as time slowly ticks by.

Javier Peña may have left Colombia over a year ago, but Colombia refuses to leave him.

*

The shower was much too hot, the ache in his shoulders being replaced by a sharp stinging as the water rained down on him. The work he had completed on the ranch already that morning had added to the months of exhaustion he was drowning in.

He had been to see a doctor, was making weekly trips to a therapist and they’d both suggested medication. The latter wrote a script for a low dose sleeping aid that he refused to touch. It took him two days to pick up the prescription, he slowly stalked each aisle of the pharmacy owned by the lady that still affectionately referred to Javier as mijo - he had once spent his Saturdays sweeping the floors and refilling the Candy shelves to earn a little money and after his Mom had died.

She could see the years of disruption in his eyes. She could feel the way that half the people in her store looked upon him as a hero and the others still glared at him for leaving his childhood sweetheart at the altar.

Javier barely said a word to her, if he was honest he barely spoke to anyone these days. He responded in short answers to his therapist, some weeks he would start to give a little more and then for weeks afterwards he’d seem to scale back even more. His dad would get tidbits of information if and when Javier was willing to share it, but knew not to press on him.

The only time he ever really spoke was on Tuesdays and Thursday mornings when he filled in for a professor friend that had taken an extended leave of absence at the college he taught.

Criminal Justice. Justice. The word felt heavy on his tongue. Some days it felt like it would slip back down his throat and slowly choke him and maybe one day it would.

He stood there in front of those kids, dodging questions and snide remarks about what he had been up to when he was taking down Escobar and the Cali Cartel.

His schedule today would find him completing his lecture and making his way to the airport. He had been asked to attend a conference by the department head at the college, he would be attending with his teaching assistant and they’d be spending two nights in a hotel in Houston.

He finished up his shower with a groan and got dried and dressed before pulling a few shirts, pants and clear underwear into a suitcase. His fingers lingered over the orange bottle that housed the pills he had been so reluctant to take, ultimately sweeping them up with the tips of his fingers and just dropping them unceremoniously into the case, before zipping it up and making his way downstairs.

“You fixed up the gate?” his father called out from the paper he was reading and sipping his tea behind.

“Needed to be done,” he said with a slight shrug, “I got this conference so figured I'll get it done before I go.”

Chucho hummed out a sharp mhmm, the words that he wanted to say being kept back by years of knowing when to keep his mouth shut when it came to his son. He folded over his paper and placed it down on his lap, “You’ll give me a call when you get to Houston, let me know you arrived okay?”

“Course, pops, I'll see you in a few.”

The door lightly slammed shut behind him and he made his way to his truck, throwing his case in the back and climbing in and soaring towards the college.

A few days somewhere else might be a nice reset, he soothed to himself.

*

You were nervous. The backpack filled with far too many clothes rested uncomfortably on your shoulders as you walked into the lecture hall… and fuck you were late.

Traffic had been a nightmare and your stomach was filled with butterflies, you hated conferences and you hated having to mingle even more. The rooms always filled with men who seemed hellbent on tripping you up and raising an eyebrow at your choice of career.

You were secretly excited to spend a little time with Javier though. He was kind, quiet, always happy to help and the fact he’s outrageously handsome doesn’t help either.

Both of you had immediately hit it off, and you’d realised very quickly that certain subjects seemed completely off-limits to Professor Peña and he respected that you never pushed when it seemed like no one else had a problem with pushing him.

He simply nodded at you as you entered the lecture hall, eyes flickering back and forth to the crowd and you as you made your way to the desk on the far right hand side of where he was discussing the importance of time, and how rushing into something seldom ends well.

It never stops fascinating you how he pulled the attention of everyone in the room with very little effort, he didn’t need to create a fuss or spend hours working on displays to earn the attention of people; it was just him and his experience in the field that captivated people.

And sure… there was the old class clown that would make stupid comments or continuously reference Colombia and the rumours of reputation he had there that had followed him back to Laredo, but he never retaliated. He’d just ignore the comment and swiftly move on.

You took notes as he went on with the lecture, watching in awe as he took the time to make eye contact and answer each sensible question that was sent his way with his students. His hands tucked into his pants pocket as he did so. You’d made a joke the week before about how he needed a tweed jacket with elbow patches and then he’d really have the look and your heart fluttered at the memory of his eyes flashing up with something that didn’t just resemble sadness for a few seconds.

The minute the lecture had finished he gestured for you to meet him in the office on the side of the hall and you wasted no time in following him.

He handed you a small folder that housed an itinerary and a few pamphlets to local bars, restaurants and attractions situated around the hotel in Houston.

“I figured these would be of more use to you than I,” he said with a smirk, “Room service and the hotel bar will suit me just fine.”

“Same,” you replied with a little too much gusto and you couldn’t help but notice the way his lips curled up for a split second, “I’m uh- not a big fan of navigating places I don’t know well.”

“Gotcha.” He says before reaching into his own folder, “One last thing, so we only got one parking permit for the airport. So I was going to leave my truck here and I’ll get a cab to the airport and you can have the permit.”

“You don’t trust my driving?” you ask with a smirk, “What sense does it make for you to pay for a cab, Mr Peña?”

“Just Javi. And if you’re sure. I didn’t want to be presumptuous.”

“Feel free to presume away,” you quip back with a smile, “I need to grab some paperwork from the teacher's lounge but I'll only take a minute. It’s the beat up black sedan parked next to the library.” You hand him your key and he gives you a polite smile in return.

*

He barely talks on the ride to the airport, his hands resting comfortably in his lap as he looks out the window, occasionally tapping his finger to the hum of the radio.

“Have you ever been to Houston before?” he asks as you search the parking lot for a space.

“Nope, this will be the first time,” you say with a shrug, “I wanted to visit Houston as a kid but money was tight. I was really into Space and I've been meaning to visit since the Space Center opened a few years ago.”

“Mhmm,” he hums back before pointing out a spot, “Well, tomorrow is full, but maybe Saturday before we fly home. We’ve got an evening flight.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

*

“Why does liquor always taste better in an airport?” you ask, breaking the comfortable silence you had been sitting in for the last half hour.

“I think it’s psychological,” he says with a grin, “You have to pretend it tastes better to justify the price.”

You giggle at his response before taking a bite of the burger that he had insisted on buying you lunch for driving him to the airport.

“I keep having to remind myself they’re not taking me back there,” he says, staring out at the planes with a laugh that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

It’s almost instinct the way your hand reaches out and covers his, giving him a few reassuring squeezes before pulling it back. “Not all of you came back, did it?” you ask with a soft gentleness to your voice that wasn’t there before.

“No,” he replies quickly.

*

The flight was quicker than they thought it would be, the wind seemed to be blowing in favour of the plane and it ended up on the tarmac twenty minutes earlier than expected.

Javi insisted on letting you have the window seat and didn’t complain once, not even when the lady beside him ended up using his shoulder as a pillow after falling asleep within minutes of being in the air. He stifled a laugh when it happened and just accepted his fate, graciously staying as still as he could as she enjoyed her slumber.

Secretly a fleeting feeling of jealousy swept through his stomach when he saw how easily she drifted off, how comfortable she was just letting herself sleep surrounded by a bunch of strangers and how she remained asleep until the pilot announced that the plane would be landing shortly.

She said nothing to him as she slowly lifted her head off of his shoulder, she just looked around and sighed as she realised she’d slept the entire flight.

“Straight to pick up the rental car and onto the hotel or did you want to go anywhere first?” he asked as you de boarded the plane.

“The hotel sounds good,” you say as you follow closely behind him, watching the way he seems to effortlessly weave throughout the crowd.

You perch on the edge of the sofa with both of your cases in front of you in the rental store as he chats to the clearly enamoured girl working behind the desk, you wonder if he’d flirt back if you weren't waiting there for him. But he seems almost oblivious to her affection, so focused on the task he’s in the middle of doing, that he somehow can’t see the way she’s fluttering her eyelashes and not so subtly pushing her cleavage together in the top you’re almost certain he can see down.

You’d heard the rumours, you’d read the articles and you’d been in Laredo long enough to know that Javier Peña had a bit of a reputation for being a ladies man, but you’d never witnessed it first hand.

He was always professional, always kept the students that kept no secret of finding him attractive at arms length and didn’t seem interested in crossing any lines with the female professors that shamelessly flirted with him in the staff room. Honestly, you had spent many nights wondering if he had a secret lover that he kept sheltered away from the rumours and lingering glances.

“Ready?” he calls out before grabbing both of your cases and making his way to the car.

*

“You know that you had an admirer back there?” you ask with a grin, “I could feel her shooting dagger into my back as we walked out the store.”

He scoffs before laughing, “She wrote her number on the pamphlet and promised to show me the best bars in houston.”

“Oh,” you say with a raised eyebrow, “Sounds like you’ve got a busy few days ahead of you.”

Jealousy is an ugly emotion and you bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep it at bay, you had no right to be jealous, and you didn’t want to make things uncomfortable by coming across as so.

“No,” he says, momentarily taking his eyes off the road to glance over at you, “I politely declined.”

*

He wouldn’t deny it if someone asked if he found you attractive, he doesn’t think he’d be able to. He’s thought that you’re gorgeous since the first time you bounced into his office, arm outstretched as you introduced yourself with a giggle that seemed to burrow its way into his chest.

You were smart, funny and you never made him feel like he owed you any explanations. From the moment he’d left Colombia he was bombarded with questions about where he’d been, how he took down Escobar and a few had even dared to ask how he could bear to show his face around Laredo again. The few small minded folk somehow louder than everyone else as they’d bought up his past mistakes and continued to berate him for it, as if he hadn’t been punishing himself for years and years.

It made him comfortable knowing he could sit down next to you and have a conversation that wouldn’t end up with you asking questions about things that he wasn’t ready to talk about. And thinking about him wouldn't be able to deny the relief he felt when he found out it would be you accompanying him on this trip.

You were easy for him to be around, always helpful, always cheerful and he was starting to look forward to the next few days.

*

“No,” he repeated sternly but fairly to the hotel receptionist, “It’s two rooms. I have the confirmation here.”

“There was an issue with the booking,” he said with an uncaring tone as he slammed the key down next to Javi’s paperwork, “We don’t have a second room to give to you, the company will send a cheque to reimburse you for the mistake, but we are fully booked and there is nothing else I can help you with at this moment.”

Javier bites down a growl as he swipes the key from the counter and looks across at you with sorry eyes, before walking towards the elevator.

“I’ll take the pull out,” he said not meeting your gaze, “Or I can find a different hotel if you’re uncomfortable sharing.”

“I'm not uncomfortable and you’re not taking the pull out. I am. You know you panic too much, Javi.”

“So I've been told,” he says with a slight roll of his eyes as he enters the elevator.

You bounce down the hall to the room, unlocking it and swiftly letting yourself in, Javier trailing closely behind.

He sighs from the frame of the door behind you as you stand in the middle of the room, “No pull out?”

“Nope,” you say with a shrug, “Just a regular couch. But I’ll be comfortable enough.”

“No you won’t.” He says from behind gritted teeth.

“Yes. I will. I’m going to take a shower, you’re going to order room service and we are going to take full advantage of the fact the department is paying for it all,” you grab your case from his hand and make your way into the bathroom, “I want whatever costs the most.”

*

“That water pressure is phenomenal,” you say with a giggle as you run your fingers through your hair and place yourself down next to him on the sofa. “Did you order room service?”

“Yeah, it shouldn't be too long. Hope you’re hungry because I might have gone a little overboard.”

“Sounds perfect,” you say as make yourself comfortable on the little couch and watch him channel surf before settling on Wheel of Fortune.

“I love Wheel of Fortune,” you admit with a giggle, “Reminds me of home.”

“Same,” he says with a smile, “You sure you’re not wanting to explore the bright lights of Houston TX?”

“I’ll pass. Unless you want to be my tour guide? You’ve visited before, right?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” he shrugs, “Dinner, movie and bed is all that’s on

the agenda tonight.”

His mind races for a few seconds as he considers taking a sleeping pill as the situation he’s in catches up to him. He doesn’t want to keep you up, he feels waves of guilt reaching back and forth in his stomach at the fact you’re adamant he gets to have the bed and just as he feels his anxiety begin to rise, he’s pulled back into the present by your sofa hand reaching out and gently squeezing his thigh.

“You still with me?” you ask gently as you begin to recognise the signs of an anxiety attack.

“Ye-yeah,” he stutters before the sound of rapid knocking at the door makes you both jump, “Hungry?”

*

The evening flies by, you both settled down comfortably on the bed as you watched a movie together. Still picking at leftovers from the feast you had delivered to the room.

“Me and my old partner Steve were sent on a stakeout in Medellin and ended up in this hotel that was far too fancy for either of us and he decided to order everything he’d ever wanted to try from the menu… Courtesy of the DEA of course! He passed out from eating too much and I spent the rest of the evening trying to focus on the target and not killing Steve for snoring so loudly.”

His fingertips run around in little circles on top of the bedspread as for the first time he speaks about a memory in Colombia without grimacing.

“Do you still speak to him?”

He nods a few times before talking, “Yeah, a couple of times a week. He and his wife adopted a little girl when we were out there… made me godfather after I returned home.”

“The picture on your desk in your office?” you ask as you think about it; a small child perched on his lap and pulling on his moustache as he just looks at her with an amused look on his face.

“Yep, that’s her, Olivia.”

“She’s cute. I wondered if she was your daughter for a while, and then I heard you mention you never had children of your own.”

He hums before turning his attention back to the television and you reach out again to squeeze his hand. You think it lingers for a second too long, until you go to pull it away and he curls his fist gently, keeping your fingers interlocked with his as he does so.

“Do you think you’ll continue teaching once Geoff is back?” you ask, the courage coming from somewhere deep inside your chest as you ask the question that’s been weighing on your mind for weeks.

“Maybe,” he murmurs before rubbing his chin, “Haven't really thought about it.”

“The kids would miss you,” you say with a smile, “I’ve never seen a class so interested in what their professor has to say until I saw you teach.”

“I guess I’ll have to see what they say once Geoff is back, no point making plans if they decide that don’t need me anymore.”

“Oh, please,” you say as a smile spreads across your face, “They’d snap you up within seconds. You can’t pretend you have heard how badly that they want you to take up a permanent position there?”

He breathes out a contented scoff before shrugging, “I might have a letter in my desk that’s asking if I’d consider it.”

“So much for having to see, Mr. Peña,” you say with an exaggerated gasp, “You already know how much we’d all miss you if you left us.”

“You’d miss the stories,” he quips back and much too quickly for your own liking you respond.

“No, I never ask for the stories,” your breath slightly hitches as you slowly finish the end of your sentence, “I’d miss the kind man that I thoroughly enjoy working under.”

You turn to face him, studying the way he’s studying you, already taking in every part of your face.

And then his lips are on yours, one of his hands is gripping the bottom of your chin as yours finds its place on his chest, his tongue pushing through your lips as he deepens the kiss further.

You’re not sure how long he kisses you for but you curse yourself every time you need to come up for air, but the second you’ve inhaled he’s pulling you back in for more, his mouth just as desperate as your own as you seek out to know him in the ways you’ve dreamed about for the past few months.

Your hands thumble with the buttons of his shirt, trying to remain as delicate and careful as they can as he transports you somewhere extraordinary with every trace of his lips.

Every move is slow, calculated and somehow more breathtaking than the one before. He takes his time, removes your dress in one fluid motion but slow enough so that he can take in every newly revealed inch of you as he does so. His hands trailing down your body, his lips gently latching up to the hardened bud of your nipple and his own breath hitching as you moan out a sign of pleasure as he rolls it between his teeth.

He continues his journey, his hands and lips covering every part of you that they can. His mouth chanting a silent prayer of worship as his lips reach the bottom of your belly button. He peppers a few light kisses there before lifting his head and asking a question that you have to tell yourself not to yell at in reply.

“Can I taste you, Cariño?”

“Yes.”

He pulls your panties down your legs slowly, watching your face the entire time he does so. “I’ve thought about doing this,” he admits in a whisper, “Got myself off wondering about the soft sounds you’d make as I buried my face in your pussy.”

And the second the final word has fallen from his lips he’s doing it, tasting you like it’s the most important thing he’ll ever do. You taste sweet with a slight tang, and his cock throbs with every lap of his tongue. It’s been a long time since he experienced the taste of a woman, his last sexual encounters being back in Colombia and even then he wasn’t about to spread them out and really enjoy them.

But this, this was heaven. There are no exaggerated sounds of pleasure. It is not a quick rough emotionless transaction with the ultimate goal just being his pleasure and some shared information.

He had all the time he wanted with you, and he was damn sure going to use it right.

The sounds you made were like nothing he heard before, soft whimpers, moans that you seemingly had no control over and they filled the room and provided a perfect melody to this glorious happenstance.

His tongue dipped inside of you, tasting you everywhere he could before pulling back up to your little bundle of nerves and drawing out your pleasure with a series of perfectly precise licks and sucks. The essence of you coating his chin as he pulled your first orgasm out of you and diving back in for another.

It took no time at all and the second time you came you did so with a cry of his name. He kept thinking over and over that he could get used to this, used to the feeling of your fingers tangled up in his now erratic hair, used to you chanting his name like a prayer as he came on his tongue and rewarded him with a gush of your pleasure. It was pure heaven.

He lapped up every last drop, he could have spent hours down there but he couldn’t ignore the way he cock was straining against his zipper.

He pushes himself back off the bed and unzips his pants, freeing his already leaking cock as he did so and stroking himself as he looked down at you. Loving the sight of your legs spread and bliss etched on your face, he strikes himself a few more times before moving back in between your legs and leaning down to cover your lips with his.

“Can I?” he asks and you give him the yes that he’d craved more than any other in his 40+ years.

He gently pushes a pillow beneath your hips and lines himself up with you, kissing you once more before pushing the tip off him in. The thickness of him is thrilling, it pinches slightly as he notches himself in bit by bit and finally fills you to the hilt. “You okay?” he asks.

“I'm good, are you?”

“Yeah,” he says with a chuckle, “I’m really good.”

His movements are slow, but powerful, the drag of his thick cock is almost overwhelming but you can’t get enough. One of his hands squeezes your hip gently as the other squeezes the soft swell of your breast. He doesn’t want any of this to feel rushed, so he takes his time, taking you apart. Exploring whichever part of your body he mouth can reach as he continues thrusting in and out of you, groaning in delight when you clench around him.

The grip you have on him is indescribable, the way you suck him straight back in as he thrusts out, your bodies more intune than either of you have ever experienced with another person.

His moves his hand off your breast and wets the tip of two of his fingers with his tongue before bringing it down to your clit, rubbing it gently as you everything starts to go black with pleasure. You chant his name over and over as you clamp down around him, squeezing his cock so tightly so his breath becomes shaky and you come apart around him. Soaking his cock as it continues moving it and out of you.

He pulls himself out and strokes himself to completion, covering your glistening spread pussy with his spend and collapsing beside you after he does so.

At this moment, time belongs to you both.

There is no rushing, no schedules, no deadlines to be met. There is you and him and the afterglow of your bodies meeting for the first time.

Eventually, you both move, he gently guides you into the shower where he takes you again, a little quicker this time but making sure to be just as thorough with your pleasure.

That night sleep comes to Javier, it comes before he knows it’s coming. He wakes to the sound of the hotel room alarm blaring and you groaning as you nuzzle your face into his neck.

You both arrive at the conference an hour late, and leave after barely an hour. You spend the rest of the day getting to know each other in more ways than one as he fucks you well into the night. Once again feeling the welcoming embrace of sleep and your own after he does so.

Both of you joined in some way or another until you arrived back in Laredo.

You were really right. He thinks to himself. Maybe he left a bigger part of him back in Colombia than he realised, but what he knew right now, is that he is ready to start letting thing go. And he ready to fill those gaps with something better than ever before.

[spacecadetomoly]

Matsuno Family Diary! Part 2: Karamatsu Laments (Unofficial English Translation)

The following is an unofficial English translation of an official short story released online for members of the official Osomatsu-san fan club. If you want to read the original Japanese version of the story or enjoy the other things the fan club offers it’s members please consider joining: https://osomatsusan-fc.com/ In the room of the Matsuno family sextuplets there is a notebook hidden away behind a bookshelf. This notebook exists so that the brothers may, should they so choose, express the deep feelings and profound thoughts which weigh upon their hearts and minds so heavily that they can no longer be contained. It seems that today someone’s hand is once again turning the pages….

November 18th 2021, Karamatsu

Suddenly*, I have one older brother and four younger brothers to take care of. I’ve never resented this hardship. As the head of the Matsuno family it’s only natural for me to take care of everyone. Alas, however….I am gutted. Even I, whose heart is wider than the sea and taller than the mountains, have things that I cannot stand. For Example: Eight days ago, ‘twas I who threw the crumpled tissue that had fallen to the floor near the edge of the room into the trash. Six days ago, ‘twas I who searched for and the found the TV remote that had been misplaced and put it back where it belonged. Four days ago, ‘twas I who laid out the futon for everyone. ‘Twas I who turned out the lights. On the day M A Z A** was gone, ‘twas I who who washed out the slime at the bottom of the barley tea I had finished drinking and made new barely tea. ‘Twas I who crushed the empty candy boxes, put the liquor cans into garbage bags, and hung my leather jacket back on the hanger after it slipped to the floor! …………I don’t mind. It's no big deal for me to do these many things, truly. But honestly it pisses me off. I'm so annoyed. Who could have known that I, who is considered P A―F E C T O by my B R A Z A S would have such a big problem? No, no one needs to know. Heroes cry alone and in secret. I actually do a lot of work when I’m out of sight and no one is watching, and I would never brag about it but I’m really smart and witty. I also don’t agree that I’m being “obnoxious” just for humming a poem while playing guitar, but I don't care about any of that! Not even a word of thanks, eh? I've never once received a “thank you” or heard anyone ask “Did Karamatsu do this?” I'm not doing any of this because I want someone to praise me! But I also think that it would be nice if there were people who noticed a little! …… Huh. Well, that's fine. Today, once again, I’ll be the only one protecting the peace of the world Baby! P.S. The porno book thing? It wasn't me.***

Translator's notes:

*Please note that the decision to start this entry off with “Suddenly” was Karamatsu’s choice and not mine. I mean, he didn’t ‘suddenly’ gain an older brother and four younger brothers, he’s had them his whole life! And it’s not as if anything’s happened to his parents….Anyway, I considered leaving it out of the translation because it being there makes no sense, but as far as I can tell it not making sense may have been the point because a lot of the passage is like that? I dunno, Karamatsu talks weird and this entry was written weirdly so if you have trouble reading it blame him not me. **Karamatsu uses English words a few times, written out in all caps using roman letters, but he doesn’t seem to actually know how to spell these English words so he writes them out phonetically based on how he talks. He does that here with M A Z A (mother) and then two more times latter on with B R A Z A S (brothers) and P A―F E C T O (perfecto). ***This is a reference to the mysterious porno book that Osomatsu wrote about in the last entry. Karamatsu claims he didn’t take it, can he be trusted? Part of me wants to mock Karamatsu for clearly wanting to be praised (despite his claims to the contrary) for doing basic household chores. However, this would be hypocritical of me because I also long for praise whenever I do basic household chores. Today, ‘twas I who did laundry, dishes, vacuumed, cleaned the cats litter box, made my bed, and cooked myself chicken and rice for lunch….where are my complaints for being so responsible and industrious?! I demand accolades! Up next: It’s Christmas time with Jyushimatsu!

[mjolnir-steve]

Foolish

Frank Adler x fem!Reader

Word count: 5027 (oop)

Warnings: light drinking, very brief mention of suicide, some cursing, smut (18+ ONLY!!!), unprotected sex (m/f) ... Please let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: Hi, y’all! Here’s my entry for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817’s Shameless Hoes for Chris Challenge!!!! I haven’t written smut in a LONG time, so please be gentle with me LOL. Here’s what I got:

Frank Adler

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

Breeding / mutual pining 🥴

I’d like to dedicate this to @rodrikstark for always sharing the Frank Adler feels and @sparkledfirecracker for bullying me (with love) into finishing this. ❤️

If you like this fic, please comment and reblog!!! I hope you enjoy. :)

Fridays never seemed to come soon enough. You looked forward to the beginning of the weekend as much as the next person, but over the last few months, Friday nights took on new meaning for you. You moved to the trailer park a little less than a year ago, wanting to buy a small place of your own and start making a home for yourself. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t expensive, and it was only a ten-minute drive from your office where you’d just secured a promotion. Roberta, the manager, helped you make it feel like home right away, insisting on going with you to pick out paint samples and providing copies of menus for the best take-out in the area.

Before long, Roberta introduced you to the trailer park’s resident certified genius, Mary Adler. Mary and Roberta spent Saturday mornings with you when you were free, which unfortunately, was pretty much all the time. You played games, sang karaoke, and even let Mary’s one-eyed cat Fred come over. He took a liking to your swinging chair in the living room, and if Mary couldn’t find him at home, odds were he somehow squeezed through your window and ended up in that chair. 

Another two months had passed, though, before you met Mary’s uncle and guardian, Frank. You came to learn that Mary stayed with Roberta every Friday night because “Frank needs time to be an adult” and she was not allowed to come back to the house until noon on Saturdays. This information made you feel like Frank must be some kind of sad, perpetual fuckboy. You were right about the sad part, not so much about the latter. One morning while Mary played with your watercolors, Roberta let slip - ironically over a cup of tea - that Frank did have the occasional hookup, but usually, he drank himself sleepy on Friday nights and just needed the time to himself. He worked himself to the bone as a boat mechanic, often late into the night because it was too hot to do some jobs during the day. Frank took Mary in when she was just a baby after his sister, her mother, tragically committed suicide. He spent the majority of his scarce free time with Mary, so when Mary was still a toddler, Roberta offered the Friday night deal. Frank countered that he would do any repairs in the trailer park for free, but she refused to let him do that work without pay, saying he deserved to have a life, too. 

She also informed you that Frank was a former philosophy professor, single, and very attractive, especially if you were into the rugged thing. You rolled your eyes with an amused exhale and took another sip of your tea. You’d be lying if you said your interest wasn’t piqued. Mary then shouted over her shoulder, confirming that she’d been listening to your entire conversation, “Frank is great, but he’s a grump. Good luck cracking that egg.” You snorted, nearly spitting out your tea, and she went back to reading your color theory book to Fred.

With that, you heard a sharp rap at the door. You set your tea down on the kitchen table, curious who your visitor might be. You didn’t know anyone else in the trailer park, or in town, really. You opened the door, taking in the sight of possibly - no, definitely - the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You quickly guessed it was Frank, judging by the grease smeared on his quite large hands. His eyes, though tired, had the same bright look as Mary’s, and he had the most perfectly imperfect fluffy hair and overgrown stubble.

“Good morning,” he said with a sweet, closed-mouthed smile. “Is Mary here?”

You had to remind yourself to breathe. Stammering, you opened the door wider, gesturing inside. “Hi, y-yes. She is!” Why am I like this? “She’s just painting with Fred. Please, come in.” You moved aside so he could fit his broad shoulders through the doorframe and then held out your hand. “You must be Frank. I’m Y/N. Mary is just wonderful.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He took your hand in both of his, gentler than you’d expected. “I’m sorry. Yes, I’m Frank. It’s great to meet you, finally.” He smiled wide for the first time and you were certain you’d pass out. Who LOOKS like this? “And thank you, she really is wonderful. I couldn’t do it without Roberta. She’s family.” He smiled and waved at Roberta, who was looking at you over the lip of her mug.

Mary didn’t even bother to turn around and face Frank. “What are you doing here, Frank? It’s only 11. I have a whole ‘nother hour with my friends.” You tried to keep your laugh quiet, covering your mouth with your hand and shaking your head.

“Well, excuse me for thinking you might like to go out on the boat with me this morning. I guess I’ll go by myself.”

Mary jumped up from the floor, scrambling to clean up your paints and books. “Can Y/N and Roberta come?”

Frank crouched down to meet Mary’s eyes. “Of course they can, if they’d like.” He looked back at you over his shoulder, trying to gauge your interest, then turning back to his niece. “But do you remember what I told you?”

You could see that Mary was making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes. “You told me that my adult friends have adult lives that include adult responsibilities, and they might not always be available to spend time with me.”

“And?” he looked at her expectantly.

“And I need to invite them to do things without assuming they will do them.” She couldn’t hold back her eye roll any longer, but she made sure not to let Frank see. “Roberta, Y/N, would you both like to join us on the boat today?”

You were amazed by the exchange taking place in front of you, able to see where some of Mary’s brains and tenacity came from. The conversation between the two flowed so easily, playful yet intelligent. It was clear that Frank treated Mary not as a child, but as a person, and you chided yourself internally for thinking that was kinda hot. 

Shaking yourself out of your mildly inappropriate thoughts, you responded. “I’d love to come, Mary.” You smiled at her, bending over to help her pick up the last of the paints from the floor. “Roberta?”

Roberta gave you a look and you just knew she planned this somehow. “I actually do have some of those adult responsibilities to handle today, but thank you for inviting me.” You sent a glare in her direction, quick but no less scathing. “Maybe next time.” She winked at you before washing out her mug and saying her goodbyes.

You spent the whole rest of the day and night with Frank and Mary, doing everything from building sandcastles to cooking dinner together. Mary eventually fell asleep in your lap as you were watching Oliver & Company, Frank’s favorite Disney film that had become Mary’s, too. “An underrated classic,” they told you in unison.

You helped Frank put Mary to bed, a task made easier after such a tiring day. “I guess I should get going.” You stood awkwardly in the small kitchen, unsure of yourself and painfully aware of how close your hand was to Frank’s resting on the counter.

“Yeah, I have a job early in the morning.” He looked down at his shoes, unable to look you in the eye, and you wondered if he hadn’t found your company as enjoyable as you’d found his.

“Listen, I don’t know if you’ve been to Ferg’s? The little bar down the road? I go every Friday night just to relax and have a few beers. Maybe you’d like to come with me next weekend?”

Is he asking me on a date? You could feel your heartbeat racing. The look on your face must not have matched the excitement you felt at the prospect of spending time alone with the dreamy, kind, sarcastic man in front of you. 

He felt like an idiot when you hesitated to answer. He clearly read everything wrong. He had to fix this. “It’s a good place to meet people, you know? I know you’re fairly new to the area, so if you’re looking for more local friends, it’s a good place to start.” He winced, hoping you couldn’t sense his embarrassment at thinking that you would want to go on a date with him.

You swallowed, trying not to let your disappointment show outwardly. Of course he’s not interested in me. Stupid. “Oh, yeah! That would be great, Frank. What time?”

Frank let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, relieved that you didn’t seem offended by his offer. “How’s 7? I’ll pick you up? We can walk over together.”

And that’s how Fridays came to mean so much to you. Almost every Friday for the last six months, Frank met you at your door and you walked to Ferg’s together. Frank told you it would be a good place to make new friends, but you paid no mind to the other patrons. You only had eyes for each other, yet neither of you could see it, even though Roberta pointed out (repeatedly) that neither of you had taken anyone else home in all that time.

The more time you spent with Frank, the more certain you were that God was real and your life was His favorite trainwreck reality TV series. Even if you could have customized a dream man Build-A-Bear style, Frank still would blow your creation out of the water. He was smart and funny, not to mention an adoring parent to Mary, to whom you grew more attached each day. He was kind and thoughtful, talented and hard-working. Although he was a grouch, as Mary would say, he always was sweet to you. He took a genuine interest in anything you had to say, whether you were venting about work or filling him on the latest episode of whatever show you were binging. He was ridiculously sexy without even trying. All those hours he spent doing manual labor in the sun did wonders for his physique. You’d only seen him completely shirtless on one occasion, and the image of him with sweat dripping down his chest was burned into your memory, fueling your late-night thots and causing you to break out your vibrator on what was now a regular basis.

Six months had come and gone in the blink of an eye, and you’d begun to accept that Frank didn’t want to be anything more than friends with you. You decided tonight was as good a night as any to talk to someone new, to start letting go of your unrequited feelings. 

You swapped out your usual jeans for a sundress, t-shirt bra for a push-up, and lip balm for lipstick. Putting your phone and some cash in a wristlet, you considered wearing your new strappy sandals. The walk to Ferg’s was about five minutes each way down a sandy road, though, and memories of the sticky floor inside aided your preferred pair of Converse in their victory for the night. 

Just as you finished tying your shoes, you heard a knock at the door. You adjusted your cleavage and fluffed your hair a final time with one last look in the mirror. Here goes.

Frank felt like he had the wind knocked out of him in the best possible way. He suddenly felt entirely underdressed in his aloha shirt, even though it was his go-to for nights out of the house. He’d never seen you dressed so nicely when you weren’t going to work. 

You were the kind of beautiful that didn’t require makeup. Your natural hair always framed your face perfectly, even if you didn’t think so. He thought you were adorable when you were concentrating on something, blowing your hair out of your face with a huff. Visions of your soft curves made their way into Frank’s dreams on more than one occasion. He had seen you in your swimsuit several times, sunbathing with Roberta and swimming with Mary at the beach. It wasn’t even all that revealing, but it accentuated your figure in ways that forced Frank into needing a cold shower or two. Above all, though, he admired your heart. You’d allowed Mary into your life without hesitation, spending time with her because you wanted to and allowing her to ask all those questions that Frank just wouldn’t be able to answer. It killed him that you didn’t see him the way he saw you, a perfect partner for him and a worthy maternal figure for Mary.

“Frank? You okay?” Your concerned voice shook him out of his thoughts, prompting him to close his mouth which apparently had opened wide in astonishment when you stood in the doorway.

“Yeah, um... You look…” He looked a little confused, his brow furrowed and lips pursed. “Why are you all dolled up? It’s only Ferg’s.” He wished he could’ve kicked himself in the teeth when your face fell at his question. He rubbed a hand over his face. “Shit. Let me try that again,” he nearly begged, running up to you to stop you from going back inside. “You look really nice, honey.” He ran his calloused hand up your forearm, but quickly returned it to his side when he realized what he’d done. “Is it a special occasion, though? Should I change?”

You gave him a watery smile, given that you were three seconds from slamming the door in his face and crying. “That’s better. Thank you.” You lightly pushed at his shoulder, trying and failing to ignore the electricity you felt at the contact. “No occasion, though. Just thought maybe it was about time I actually introduced myself to someone new.” 

You couldn’t quite read his reaction. Little did you know he was certain he just felt his heart physically crack in his chest. “What do you mean?”

The two of you started walking, the tension between you thickening the very air you breathed. “Well, when you first invited me to Ferg’s, you said maybe I’d get to know some other people in the area, right? But we’re always with each other. I’m sure you’re itching to talk to someone other than me. I don’t want to hold you back.”

“Ah. Gotcha.” Frank abruptly reverted to the quiet, distant state he usually occupied before he met you. He sped up a bit, walking ahead of you and desperately attempting to school his features before you caught up with him.

Frank practically ran to the restroom, not slowing down even to hold the door open for you. You took a deep breath and rolled your shoulders, relaxing before entering the bar. Normally, whoever made it first would order drinks for you both, but Frank made it painfully clear that he had no desire to be in your company tonight. You ordered your usual, an Angry Orchard with a shot of Fireball in a tall glass. The combination tasted like apple cider, but the burn in your throat was caused by liquor rather than heat. It was strong enough to get you buzzed, but not so strong that you’d be stumbling home. You swallowed half the glass in one gulp, wanting to feel the warmth in your veins boosting your confidence as quickly as possible.

“Y/N? How are you?” You turned around, eyes meeting those of Jamie, your coworker. He leaned in for a hug and you accepted somewhat reluctantly, having interacted with him only in passing.

“Hey! I’m all right. What’s up?” You smiled at him, taking another sip of your drink. Jamie was not very subtly staring at your chest. You weren’t crazy about him, but the attention felt nice, so you allowed it.

“Not much. Just happy it’s Friday, ya know?” He looked around for a moment before returning his attention to you. “You’re usually here with that mechanic dude, right?”

You stifled a laugh thinking about how Frank would react if he heard himself referred to as “dude” by this prick. “Yeah, he’s around somewhere. We’re just-“

“-Just friends?” he finished for you with a hopeful look.

You nodded in response, looking him up and down. He was no Frank, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome. It had been so long since you’d even been kissed, and though you hated to admit it, you were touch-starved. One night couldn’t hurt, could it?

Meanwhile, Frank was splashing his face with cool water. He couldn’t believe he’d fucked up so royally. He was sure you didn’t want him how he wanted you, and now he was sure it was too late to tell you how he really felt.

He knew from the moment he saw you that he’d never get you out of his head. Roberta had been talking you up to Frank for weeks, but he wanted no part of it, mumbling something about there being “a reason why no one used matchmakers anymore.” He had no choice but to make your acquaintance when he was looking for Mary, and he’d never been so happy that Roberta could say she told him so.

Later that day at the beach, Mary approached him while you were dozing on a towel in the sand. She sat on his lap and reached for his face, using her pointer fingers to turn the straight line of his mouth up into a smile. “Roberta says you have a ‘charming’ smile, Frank. We think you should use it more.” He chuckled quietly, careful not to disturb you, and pulled Mary in close, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. She grimaced at the feeling, dramatically wiping at her face until he let her go back to reading with Fred.

The sound of the jukebox starting up cut short his reverie. He had to get out there and explain himself. Frank dried his face and hands with a paper towel before smacking his cheeks and stretching his neck back and forth to each shoulder. 

Frank exited the restroom only to find some douchebag staring at your ass as you leaned over toward the bar. He saw red when the piece of shit held out his hand behind his back while his friend slipped a twenty-dollar bill into it, seemingly winning some sort of bet.

Jamie didn’t stand a chance when Frank stormed in between the two of you. “That’s IT,” he yelled, so intense he borderline bellowed. He threw whatever cash he had in his pocket on the bar to pay for your drinks before he pulled you outside, almost getting to your door while you fought against his grip. He only stopped when you spun your body around like something out of Dancing with the Stars and jumped in front of him, forcing him to catch you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, what are y-”

“-What are YOU doing, Frank? What the fuck was that?” You put your feet back down on the ground but remained facing him, arms crossed over your chest.

He groaned in frustration, suddenly realizing he actually had no clue how to respond. “Fuck.”

You looked at him, tapping your foot in anticipation.

“I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.” He rubbed at his temples in the way he did when he felt a headache coming on.

“And how was he looking at me, Frank? What does it matter to you?”

“He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat and I… FUCK!”

You both turned when your neighbor opened his window. “Can you kids keep it down out here?”

You waved bashfully at the old man. “Sorry, Mr. Parker,” you said in unison.

“Come inside, Frankie.” The nickname that typically made him roll his eyes at you never had sounded sweeter, now that its use confirmed you didn’t hate him for the scene he made. You both toed off your shoes at the door before you made your way into the living room, motioning for him to sit next to you on the couch when he tried to sit in the armchair across the room.

You leaned forward, pinching his chin between your thumb and forefinger. “Now what’s going on in that sun-damaged brain of yours?”

He let out a laugh so soft you almost missed it, but you were glad you didn’t. Sitting back against the arm of the couch, you pulled a pillow into your lap and hugged it, giving Frank your full attention.

Frank cleared his throat, doing his best to accept that it was now or never. “That guy was leering at you, and it pissed me off. You deserve better, Y/N.” He pried your fingers from where they were locked around the pillow to hold your hands in his.

“If you want to meet new people, that’s great. If you don’t want to be with me, that’s a little less great, but I’d understand. He didn’t even pay for your drinks. And I th-”

You covered his mouth with one of your hands, and he knitted his brows in confusion. “You’re making it sound like it’s an option to be with you.” You were in disbelief, side-eyeing him, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to announce that you were, in fact, being Punk’d. 

The corners of his mouth lifted into the soft smile he reserved for you. It was the same one he gave you whether you were on a tangent about how “Obsessed” by Mariah Carey is “the single greatest diss track of all time” or you were helping Mary put a harness and leash on Fred “just to see how he’d do” on a walk.

“For a distinguished professor, you’re kind of a dummy, Frank.” You took his face in your hands, thrilled to be feeling his stubble against your palms. Before he could talk back to you, you kissed him, unsure how you denied yourselves such a simple yet extraordinary pleasure for so long. It only took a moment for him to relax into it, his hands removing the pillow between you before finding your waist and pulling you almost into his lap.

You deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. He pulled away first, pressing his forehead to yours. “Seems like we’re both dummies, huh?” 

You were going to ask why pulled away until you looked down to see a considerable tent forming in the front of his jeans. You laughed as he pulled you into a tight hug, one arm wrapped around you while the other hand held your face against his neck.

You kissed the side of his neck softly before leaning back to look at him. “All this time? I thought you didn’t see me this way.” You held his face, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. “You asked me to go to Ferg’s and then said I could meet other people, so I thought that was it, you know?”

He covered your hands with his and pecked your lips softly. “Honey, I thought it was the other way around. I was trying to ask you out and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.” You giggled, spluttering a bit because tears had started falling at some point. He wiped your tears away before swiping his thumb over your bottom lip, pulling it down a bit. “We’re fools, aren’t we?”

You nodded slowly and Frank saw something wicked flash in your eyes before you took his thumb in your mouth, sucking lightly. “Jesus, honey.” His length hardened underneath you and you could feel the wetness beginning to pool in your panties, prompting you to grind down into his lap.

You released his thumb from your mouth, pressing your chest into his before kissing him again. “I think we’re only fools if we don’t take advantage of the rest of your adult time.” You removed your dress easily, returning your hands to Frank’s shoulders to push off his shirt.

He surged forward to kiss you again, working magic with his tongue against yours. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he picked you up, walking you into the bedroom. Placing you on the bed carefully, he removed your bra and panties before pulling off his boxers and jeans in one go. You thought you wanted him before, but now that you could see everything he’d been hiding under his baggy clothes, you didn’t see how you could ever let him leave your bedroom.

The next few minutes were spent exploring each other’s mouths while Frank stretched you with his fingers. You didn’t think you’d ever been so wet in your life and thought you might pass out if you didn’t feel him inside you immediately. You gave his cock a few strokes before sliding his head through your folds, coating him in your slick.

“Waitwaitwait, honey. Do you have a condom?”

“You don’t need one if you don’t want one. It’s okay.”

He looked like you just gave him tomorrow’s winning lotto numbers, taking a deep breath to steady himself before he looked at you again. “Oh, God. Are you sure?”

“Mhm. I wanna feel you. Make me yours?”

“Anything you want, honey, but if you change your mind, just tell me, okay?” He lined himself up, seconds shy of entering you for the first time.

“I figured if you were gonna be possessive of me tonight, you might as well take it the whole nine, Frankie.” You laughed as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, though, I’m clean, I’m on the pill, and I’ve wanted you for a long time.” You reached up to scratch lightly through his chest hair.

“The only thing I wanna hear right now is you moaning for me.” He drove into you harshly, but waited a moment for you to adjust once he was seated to the hilt. “So damn wet and tight for me, honey. You’re so perfect, so beautiful.” He kissed you again before he began to move, slowly but surely making you lose your mind.

He dipped his head down to take one nipple in his mouth, then the other, effectively shutting you up and emptying all thoughts from your head. He nipped at the swell of your breast, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Fuck, Frank, please!”

“Please what, honey?” He picked up his pace, fucking into you so vigorously you moved up the bed. “Tell me what you need.”

“Make me cum, Frank. Please, baby, I need it. Need you,” you cried, leaning up to bite into his shoulder, stifling your moans.

“I wanna hear you, Y/N. I wanna hear those pretty moans while I’m making this perfect pussy cum for me.” The combination of his filthy words and the sight of him sucking on his own fingers before rubbing at your clit sent you over the edge, making you scream his name over and over again for what felt like forever and not long enough.

You could tell he was close, his hips stuttering and losing their rhythm. He began to pull out, unsure if you were willing to let him finish inside you, but knowing he was too close to wait for an answer.

You hooked your legs around his waist and pulled him close, pushing him back into you. “Fill me up, Frank. I wanna feel all of you. Please give it to me,” you whimpered. His release triggered another for you, chanting each other’s names surely loud enough for the neighbors to hear. 

He stayed inside you as you both came down from your shared high, gingerly flipping you over so he laid on his back with you on his chest. He kissed the top of your head, fingers fluttering up and down your sides. 

“What’s on your mind now, Frankie?” You looked up at him through your lashes, mildly terrified of the answer.

He looked down at you with the most adoration you’d ever seen, lifting your chin so your eyes met his in the moonlight. “That wasn’t too soon, was it? You mean so much to me and to Mary. I don’t wanna mess this up. I don’t ever wanna hurt you. You’re the best thing in my life besides Mary, you know that?”

You kissed his chest before looking back up at him, smiling. “First of all, I would argue that wasn’t soon enough.” He hissed as you clenched around his still softening cock inside you.

“You’re evil.”

Winking at him, you continued tracing patterns on his chest with your fingers. “Second, that all kinda sounds like you might be in love with me, Frank Adler.”

His hands stopped moving for a second before he responded. “Would you run away if I said I am?”

“Well, I wouldn’t run away. This is my house.” You thought your heart might explode in your chest.

“I didn’t even say it, but I take it back,” he huffed, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“What if I told you I felt the same way?”

He grinned, sitting up to kiss you feverishly on your cheeks, the tip of your nose, and finally your lips. You could feel him starting to harden again inside you, leading to round two of… well, you lost count.

You ate breakfast and showered together in time for Frank to return home before Mary did, agreeing to talk more later and to hold out on Roberta for a while.

Frank stood on your doorstep, leaning in to kiss you once more. All of a sudden, you heard a familiar meow and thanked God you were dressed and not in your robe.

“Frank, what are you doing here? I thought I’d come see Y/N since I’m not supposed to come home until noon.”

You bit your tongue to keep from cackling. Frank ran a hand over his face, his blissful bubble burst. He was getting you a hotel room next weekend.

[dancingamongstdust]

MHA Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

All Might

There was an ache in your shoulder despite the painkillers. It was persistent, a constant reminder that your time in U.A. was beginning to lower your reaction speed. Perhaps you should consider returning to a full-time career in the hero world instead of taking random jobs here and there.

Sighing, you finished up with your costume and opened the door to find none other than Principle Nezu waiting for you.

“Great timing!” he chirped. “I was about to come and tell you that you’ll be sharing your second-year physical training class today.”

“The class that begins in twenty minutes?”

“That very one. When I found out that you had injured yourself, I thought that it would be best for you to take on an assistant of sort.” Nezu hummed softly to himself, as if wondering if he should continue. “And perhaps it will be a good experience for Toshinori to see how one can balance their time.”

You chuckled, catching onto the principle’s plan. “I don’t think a hero of All Might’s stature would have anything to learn from somebody like me.”

“There’s no doubt that he’s the better hero –“

“You could put that more nicely.”

“But you have far more experience teaching,” Nezu finished. “You take it easy to ensure your continued health and even though you whine about your lack of excitement, you never go out and chase it.”

That was true. Every year, you told the principle that you would be quitting and each time, he would laugh and tell you that you never would. You blamed the students. They were way too easy to get attached to.

All Might was waiting at the training grounds, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face. The latter looked almost painted on. He absolutely towered over you, seemingly taller in person.

“We haven’t met properly before,” you said, giving your name. “But may I just say that I have endless respect for your heroic accomplishments.”

He laughed proudly. “Thank you. Nezu says that you got injured during a fight with a villain, is everything alright?”

There was something about his voice that you didn’t quite like. It just sounded so patently fake. Perhaps that was why you hadn’t been surprised when the news about his true form was shared amongst the faculty. It seemed to you that it should have been a given. Nobody spoke like he did in their day to day lives.

“It’s a shoulder injury,” you said. “In a similar line, you can drop the All Might moniker for a short while if you want. This class is incapable of arriving less than ten minutes late.”

“That’s alright! I’m sure this is a far more useful form.”

“Suit yourself,” you said with a nod. You rolled your shoulder and winced. “I’m going to need to have you taking over the majority of the hands-on training if that’s alright with you? If I push myself now, I’m just going to do more damage to the muscles.”

All Might gave an affirmative and then pondered your words. It was unsurprising when he seemingly vanished into a cloud of smoke, dropping the vast majority of his muscles and showing a far-more human façade.

“Perhaps you’re right,” he acknowledged. “Some rest before teaching would be easier on my injuries.”

You smiled. “The last thing you want to do is let these students think they’re strong enough to take you on just yet. Don’t need that going to their heads.”

Endeavor

It was an accident that led to your first encounter with the recently elected number one hero. And it had mostly been as a result of a very long day filled with endless bad luck.

You had been walking through the parking garage after having coffee spilled on you, losing your keys, and nearly breaking your ankle when an escalator stopped working. It was overall an awful day. And it was about to get even worse.

It must have been as a result of some kind of villain but the exact situation escaped you. All that you knew was that somebody got thrown from out of nowhere. They flew into one of the pillars and cracked it. You jumped and immediately rushed over to them. It was only once you were right beside him that you realised the fire was part of him.

“You’re Endeavor…” you breathed. “Are you alright?”

The hero stood, clearly shaken. A deep scowl covered his face. He was much, much taller than you had thought he would ever be. “Get out of here before you get hurt.”

Before either of you could do anything else though, the ground seemed to tremble, much like an earthquake. You looked up wearily. This was the ground floor so it wasn’t like you could fall through anywhere.

And then the ceiling started to crumble.

You barely had time to react, just screwing your eyes shut and hoping for the best. A wave of heat washed over you. Dust filled your lungs and you coughed as all around you, a cacophony of collapsing rubble filled the air.

An unnatural silence took over.

Slowly, you opened your eyes. It was far too dark with a flickering light illuminating a large cavern of rubble held up by a few of the pillars that were still standing. Powder swirled around you, filling your lungs and making you cough heavily. Then you noticed the reason that you hadn’t gotten so much as a scratch.

Endeavor stood over you, shielding you entirely. He showed no visible discomfort but as you stared, you realised that part of his suit had been ripped and blood trickled down his side.

A few seconds passed and he moved away. In the tight space, he was unable to even stand straight. “Damn it,” he cursed. “There’s no way that Hawks can move any of this nonsense. We’re going to be stuck here until rescue teams arrive.”

You sunk down slowly, sitting against something sharp and putting your hand over your mouth. “I’m going to die,” you whispered. “There’s no air here…”

“Don’t be dramatic,” the pro-hero snapped. “We have plenty of time before the air runs out. If it was just me, I could blast through here in no time.”

“Why can’t you?”

He stared at you as though you were stupid. “Either I would risk bringing the rest of this concrete down on your head or you would stand too close and get burnt. Somehow, I don’t think you would prefer either of those options.”

You shook your head and tried to hold back tears. This day had been worse than any other in your life. Should you call your family and friends? Was it worth worrying them just to hear their voices? Endeavor didn’t seem worried so maybe you should just trust that you would get out and everything would be fine. Or maybe you would die and –

Your thoughts were cut off by him suddenly appearing in front of you. “Relax,” he said. “If you panic, you’re just going to make the entire situation worse.”

“We’re trapped under concrete,” you said. “We could die.”

“You’re not going to die. Now stop being pathetic and find a way to occupy yourself that doesn’t cause a panic attack.”

You swallowed and took a deep breath. “Alright. Alright.”

He nodded, moving considerably further away and then his flames flickered off. And that was your first meeting with Endeavor. Surprisingly, you ended up speaking until you were rescued.

Eraserhead

It had all begun years ago.

You remembered distinctly how you had been sitting in the garden and watching the bees happily buzz past. It was a warm day with a slight saltiness to the air. A perfect time to enjoy the summer as though you had no worries in the world.

Conversation filled the air and you perked up, recognising one of the voices. You had only managed to stand up when a blur of blue hair slammed into your side, pulling you into a tight hug with a happy shout of your name. Laughter filled the air as you nearly fell, unable to even hug back.

“Oboro!” you giggled. “I thought you were only getting back next week!”

He finally let you go and shot you a smile that made the sun look dim. “I was but then my parents said my friends could stay over! Come meet them.”

Oboro had been your closest friend for years but since going to U.A., you had seen less and less of him. That wasn’t to say that you hadn’t kept in contact of course but you missed him greatly.

His friends were… not what you expected.

The exceptionally loud blond was Hizashi Yamada and his quirk was volume-based. He greeted you with a booming shout, apparently having been told about you several times before arriving.

But Shota Aizawa interested you far more. He didn’t speak much and you never did find out his quirk when you were younger. When you’d asked why he wanted to be a hero, he just told you that he liked it. The rest of the week, you developed a bit of a crush on him and spent most of your time trying to impress him.

When the week ended, you didn’t see him again for a very long time and the next time you saw him, it was under circumstances you had never even imagined.

You were wearing a veil to hide your face. There was no dramatic rain or dark thunder on the day of the funeral. Rather fittingly, there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. You liked to imagine that was Oboro’s final gift. A beautiful day to celebrate him.

Yamada had put his hand on your shoulder, subdued and quiet for the first time. He was a pro-hero now and you often saw his face on magazines.

Soon, he left to speak to others and you remained by the grave with only one other.

“Being a hero is more dangerous than I ever thought,” you said, not sure why you were speaking but feeling the urge to regardless. “You and Yamada have to stay as safe as you can, alright? He would want that.”

Aizawa glared at you from the corner of his eye. “How would you know that?”

“Because you were the most important people in the world to him,” you said. “Of course that’s what he would want.”

Aizawa didn’t speak anymore but after a while, he turned to leave. Before going, he paused and looked as though he wanted to say or do something. You met his gaze. It felt as though he could see straight through your veil, revealing the tears that streaked your face. The atmosphere wasn’t uncomfortable. It was just sad.

Still, standing there and just existing helped you to remember the loss wasn’t just your own. When Aizawa left, you turned back to Oboro’s gravestone feeling less alone in the world.

You were going to miss him like hell but you wouldn’t be remembering him by yourself.

Fatgum

As a solitary and underground hero, it was quite rare that you were contacted for big jobs. Rarer still that you took them instead of passing them on.

But something was different about this time.

This time, you had a personal vendetta drawing you to one of your least-favourite jobs – working with other heroes. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them but many weren’t in it for actually helping people. That put a bad taste in your mouth.

The job wasn’t technically being led by you purely because the information had come through a larger agency. They hadn’t wanted to pass it off to you alone so now you were sitting in the briefing room, listening to them going over everything that your investigations had revealed. No credit given, of course.

You stood toward the end and offered a simple warning. The villain that you were after had little concern about causing collateral. If anything, he relished in it. Your warning was primarily targeted at some of the heroes whom you knew dealt more with casual villains.

Many of them got overwhelmed when they came up against drug dealers and sex traffickers instead of pickpockets.

And then everybody dispersed, each having their own orders about how they would contribute to a safe arrest.

Leaving you alone. At least, you thought you were alone until somebody spoke behind you.

“Do you know what always calms me down? Taiyaki.”

You startled, though you didn’t let it become noticeable. Instead you turned to find yourself absolutely dwarfed by the BMI hero, Fatgum. Somebody you had always known about but never gotten a chance to meet.

“Do I really look that stressed?” you enquired.

He chuckled. “Not to be rude, but you definitely do.”

You sighed and looked at the documents in your hands. It was probably best that you didn’t have a mirror on you. “I’m worried about this case,” you said. “This guy has slipped through my hands a few too many times.”

Fatgum nodded. “I know how that feels but don’t worry too much. Everybody here is a capable hero and together, we’ll get him for sure.”

You raised an eyebrow. Perhaps a few were capable but not everybody.

“You’re too cynical,” he reprimanded though there was little malice to his words. “You should try to trust the rest of us. At least for long enough to get a little sleep.”

You reached up and touched the bags that had formed under your eyes. “Thank you for your concern but I’ll be perfectly fine.” You shoved the documents into a small bag and slung it over your shoulder. Once you dropped them off at home, you could head back out and see if anything had popped up.

“It’s still pretty early,” Fatgum mused. “What are your plans?”

“I’m going to go and see if any of my sources have found new information.”

“Uwabami was meant to be doing that tonight accourding to the schedule,” he pointed out. “But you’re probably not going to be taking the night off. Why don’t you join me for my patrol? You can keep an ear to the ground and also not continue exhausting yourself.”

Sighing, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “We hardly know each other. Why are you so worried about me?”

He shrugged. “Too many heroes drive themselves crazy with this kind of stuff. Come on. My work study students are great, you’ll love them both.”

There was a reason that you didn’t take any of those on but admittedly his two students were entertaining.

Gang Orca

It was all for the sake of the cameras.

You had to remember that when you were getting up before the sun rose. Everything had to be absolutely perfect about your appearance. If it wasn’t then your little ruse would be seen through by every reporter with half a braincell.

Then you had to get to the setup site and speak with the marketing team secretly. You stood with the team leader to one side, discussing everything like old friends over a cup of coffee.

“Essentially, what we’re looking for is a very breathless and awe-struck victim,” he explained to you. “When you speak to the media, try and make it like you never even thought of Gang Orca much before but now his rescue has made him into your favourite. We’re trying to build a greater trust with the public especially amongst children.”

You pulled a face. “I don’t much like working with kids but for a small increase, I can become quite the lover of them for a short while.”

The guy smiled. “You’re one of the best, otherwise I wouldn’t have hired you. You can get your increase.”

“Thank you. Now let’s get to work.”

You made your way to the ‘accident’ site. The costume team ripped your shirt and you had some fake blood dotted around your head. Nothing to make your injuries too severe but enough for some pity.

And then you climbed under the wreck and waited.

Approved photographers snapped their pictures as you were rescued from your metal prison by the tall Gang Orca. His strength alone was enough to pull the door free. He held his hand out to you while using his other to lift the car high enough to help you out. You made a show of crawling free and then stumbling a little.

With one hand on your head, you leaned against him and stared up with a grateful expression. Cameras flashed and he checked the wreck once more before leading you away for ‘medical treatment’.

Once out of view of the media circus, you straightened and wiped some of the fake blood away from your mouth. “Thank you for the rescue,” you said.

Gang Orca didn’t seem very happy about it at all. It was good that his hero image didn’t need too many smiles.

“I’m going to guess that this wasn’t really your idea?”

He sighed. “No. I don’t like the need to fake rescues when there are real people who should be getting help from a hero.”

“But those people aren’t getting paid to better the public’s opinion of you,” you said. “Twenty minutes here can be what knocks you off lists like ‘scariest heroes’ and similar stuff. That way, you get even more opportunities to save people.”

You couldn’t tell if he was grimacing or not but he definitely appeared to be. It made sense. While some heroes relished in the easier work, many didn’t like the media part of their jobs.

“If you’re happy with it, I’d like your autograph,” you said. “It’ll help me sell the whole situation a lot easier.”

“Alright.”

“For what it’s worth, I don’t have a warm opinion of the media either,” you said. “They’re vultures who benefit from the fall of good heroes. What I, and others, do helps stop the best from being sidelined just because they’re intimidating or unmarketable. You’re in this for the right reason but the news organisations don’t care about that.”

He sighed deeply. “It’s unfortunate that you’re right. Of course, that doesn’t mean I have to be happy with these kinds of arrangements.”

“Few people are.”

Hawks

Being a photographer was competitive work, especially in a world where people could have quirks allowing them to grow cameras from their bodies.

You had to go the extra mile in order to compete with them and carve out a name for yourself. Either you had to be there first or you had to see something that nobody else did. A good intuition never led you astray.

And so, when you found yourself walking down the right street late one afternoon, you just knew that it was time to take out your camera.

The event was nothing catastrophic. Indeed, it seemed that the main danger was people’s stupidity. A fire had started on the bottom floor of an office building and instead of waiting for first responders to do their jobs, people were choosing to make things more difficult by climbing out of windows and stuff like that.

Soon enough, heroes were on the scene and you had your camera ready.

Naturally, Backdraft was the first to arrive and you got some great photos of the rescue hero doing what he did best. The light from the flames perfectly illuminated the hero and made the entire situation feel a great deal more dramatic than it was.

The second hero was a young woman whose name escaped your mind. She assisted the civilians as best she could but, no sooner did she help one down, and the person was practically taken from her arms.

Bright red feathers flew across the scene, darting into the building and pulling every person free by their clothing. They were lowered safely to the ground though many stumbled.

You didn’t lower your camera but you cursed out Hawks under your breath.

Never, in your wildest imagination, did you expect to hear him respond.

“Well, that’s not a very nice thing to say.”

You startled, just about dropping your camera on the ground in shock. He was perched above your head, atop one of the streetlights, a smirk on his face and his visor down. His wings were shorter than usual and the only way you could tell he was even helping with the incident.

“You ruined my photo,” you said. “And she had him, you know?”

“She was moving too slow. The poor guy would have been stuck in the air for several minutes longer and that’s just not good on the heart. Besides, I can make up for your lost photo if you snap a shot in the next three seconds.”

You scoffed. “A photo of you sitting on a streetlight? From this angle?”

“What? Not dramatic enough for you?”

“Not unique enough, more like. You’re the most photographed hero in the whole of Japan. The internet is teeming with images of you from every possible angle, distance, and situation. I’ve seen them all.”

For some reason, that seemed to get to the pro-hero a little and you were surprised when he landed beside you. You were very rarely this close to a pro, your bravado disappearing now that he was actually standing there.

“So you’re saying I’m not worth a photo?”

Part of you felt like saying that he was and quickly taking one but your pride didn’t allow it. “Not when there are lesser-known heroes here. They don’t have crazy stalkers willing to chase them around the city for any picture.”

“And aren’t they luckier for it,” he sighed. “Ah well, your loss. I’ll see you around.”

With a flap of his wings, he was gone and you watched him go, fighting the urge to snap a photo the entire time.

Midnight

Some would call you shallow but interviews were one of your favourite parts of being a hero. Getting to answer questions and engage with the people who admired you was an experience that you just adored. Not only that but they were often the best place to clear up rumours or speculations so long as they were edited well.

With a reliable broadcaster and positive outcomes on all of your latest jobs, you were extremely excited to be offered an interview. You knew there was an ulterior motive of some kind but you hadn’t been sure as to what.

But still, you arrived early, dressed in your hero costume, and had your makeup done up as best as it could be.

And then you watched the interview before you and you quickly realised that the broadcast was doing a segment. One focused on hero costumes.

Your own was quite unique, a step away from the usual appearance of heroes. Personally, you loved it.

The public however was divided on whether it was fashion forward or just a flop.

And clearly that was why individual heroes had been chosen.

Being interviewed at the moment and practically being drilled on the ins-and-outs of her costume was nobody other than Midnight herself. She looked absolutely amazing as ever. A natural on the stage and in the field.

You had to admit however that you didn’t feel comfortable with the questions they were asking her. She answered smoothly but mostly in deflection.

The other heroes around you agreed with your assessment. This felt like an attempt at creating a media circus. Few were interested in participating anymore.

The moment Midnight gave her leave, the producers began gesturing at you. You gave them a look and turned around with the rest of the heroes there.

Midnight was in a bad mood but she put on a smirk when you made eye contact with her.

“We’re leaving,” you told her. “None of us were told that this was going to be working off controversy.” You wanted to apologise that she had been the first to get interrogated but you didn’t know how to do that.

She laughed. “You weren’t expecting there to be a catch?”

“I mean, I was but I thought they were a little better than running a segment that’s so clearly focused on… well…”

“Sex appeal?” Midnight asked.

You awkwardly rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. It probably should have tipped us off that we were all around the same status. No real big names aside from your own have worked with this broadcast channel.”

“And nobody will again once I speak to a few contacts,” Midnight said, a hint of bitterness finally seeping into her voice. “Guess that will teach me to give new places a chance. They’re all looking for the big ratings instead of actual interest. Maybe I should just go into being a teacher full time at this rate.”

“Aren’t you already doing that?”

She shushed you. “Not if I don’t say it out loud.”

You laughed and stuck by her as your group exited the building, ignoring the clamoring from the higher-ups who were desperately trying to convince you to stay. The type of people who would take advantage of being able to pressure people into things. Lovely.

“Don’t you hate how rude they are to you?” you asked her. “I get so furious sometimes and my questions are always tame compared to yours.”

She shrugged. “At some point, you get used to it. I don’t think there’s a question out there that would shock me anymore.”

You really hoped you never reached that point.

Mirko

The villain pulled experimentally at his cuffs. He twisted around and began shuffling when he met your eyes.

“Where exactly are you trying to go?”

He grumbled something under his breath and stopped moving. You raised a hand to your head and sighed. At this rate, you were going to wind up with wrinkles. One of your favourite outfits had been destroyed by this little altercation and nobody had even bothered to show up yet. Somebody had called emergency services, right?

“Stop moving, I can hear you,” you snapped.

The villain would have been a greater threat if you hadn’t happened to be shopping in the area. Your quirk was the perfect match for his own and it allowed you to quickly take control of an otherwise dangerous situation.

Now you sat on a bench, him tied to the nearest building support bench, and you waited for somebody to arrive and take him off your hands.

There was a thump somewhere to your right and you lazily looked up from your phone. Only for your heart to kind of stutter.

“Aw, come on! I was told there was going to be some excitement over here!” Mirko complained. “What gives?!”

The rabbit hero was absolutely gorgeous with white hair and legs that went on for literal days. She was the epitome of everything you aspired to be as a hero. What she did was on her own terms and she fought for the thrill of it all.

You had just never expected to actually meet her.

“I’ve dealt with it,” you said once you had gotten over your shock. You gestured towards the villain. “No problems here.”

Mirko bounded over and stuck her face way too close to his. Her nose seemed to twitch in excitement. “You don’t seem so tough,” she scoffed. “I got the call and it said that this was setting itself up to be a good clash! Are you just that good?”

Her eyes fell on you, bright and teasing. A strand of hair fell in front of her face and she huffed it away without breaking eye contact.

“I am,” you said, mostly joking but feeling unable to deny it.

She threw her head back and laughed. “That’s a good answer. I like your confidence.” She eyed what you were wearing. “Your costume could use some work though.”

You chuckled. “It’s actually pretty similar to yours when I’m not interrupted while shopping. I’ve always loved your style.”

She nodded firmly as though that was a given. Then she looked around and raised an eyebrow. “If this moron interrupted your shopping, then what are you doing hanging around with him? You have things to get back to, don’t you?”

You gestured around. “I do but the police haven’t shown up yet.”

“Don’t worry about them,” she scoffed. “I’ll bounce this guy down to the station for you. Don’t waste time just standing around.”

She turned back to the villain just in time for you to both see him run around the corner. He nearly tripped but managed to keep his footing. You glanced at one another and Mirko laughed heartily. “You stay here,” she said. “I can deal with cowards in well under a minute. They always do the same things to ‘throw me off’ or whatever.”

“I’ll come with you,” you said. “It’s technically my fault he got away. And I could always learn a thing or two from the best, right?”

She grinned. “I knew I liked you. Let’s see if you can keep up though.”

Natsuo

On a good summer’s day, there was nothing better than the beach. The waves gently lapping at the shore, soft clouds drifting across the sky, and few children due to the earliness of the day. It was well worth getting up early to watch the sun creep its way over the ocean and begin what was scheduled to be the hottest day of the year.

Not that you would be outside when it hit noon. By that time, ice cream and a nice spot of shade became necessary.

For now though, you waltzed along the beach and enjoyed the sand beneath your feet. As you walked, you kept an eye out for shells though there were scarce. People came every day to collect this time of year.

In a way, that made you sad.

But the lack of shells did mean that you didn’t need to watch where you were walking quite as much. At least, that was your thought process. Shells cut your feet and there were none so why keep an eye on the sand.

The answer is broken bottles.

It was a sake bottle, probably stolen away by some kids to be drunk where their parents wouldn’t see. The searing pain made you think you’d stepped on a jellyfish. Cursing, you jerked your foot away, blood running down into the sand below.

A small wave washed up, taking the bloodied sand away to reveal the culprit.

Struggling to balance, you hopped away from the bottle and sat down, lifting your foot to see the damage. It was a rather deep slice that made you feel quite woozy. Sand was already sitting around the injury and your only option to wash it off was the very salty sea.

“Sorry, do you need some help?”

You glanced behind you to see a guy standing on the boardwalk. His hair was pale and his expression kind. Something about him seemed oddly familiar but you weren’t sure why.

“I stood on a bottle,” you said. “It’s alright.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you need some help getting off the sand?”

You were going to deny the offer but your entire leg felt like it was on fire. The pain was undoubtedly because of your brain flicking through reminders about the danger of stepping on glass. “If you’re alright with it.”

He made his way down to where you were sitting quite quickly and glanced at your foot. “That’s going to need stitches,” he said. He offered his water bottle to you. “You should clean it off and then put some pressure on it before we move it.”

The cut hadn’t seemed that bad to you but you hadn’t really been looking carefully. “Are you sure?” You still took the water though, hissing as you poured it over your cut.

“Very,” he said. “Do you mind your towel getting blood on it?”

“No.”

He used the towel to put pressure on the cut and then helped you stand, hobbling your way off the beach. Once there, he quickly listed off the nearest hospitals.

“Are you a medical student by any chance?” you asked, trying to keep your mind off the pain.

He blushed. “Sorry, is it obvious?”

You laughed. “Just a little but that’s okay. It was good that you happened to be nearby then. Can I get your name?”

He hesitated but then said, “Natsuo. Don’t worry about my family name.”

Curious now, especially given how familiar he looked, you were tempted to push. But you didn’t and instead thanked him again for his help. He turned out to be correct, of course. You did need stitches.

Present Mic

You stretched before going into the office. Everything was sore – an unfortunate result of your late night. It couldn’t have been helped. Train wrecks were rarely planned.

Principle Nezu greeted you warmly when you arrived and then asked you to sit down. “As I’m sure you’ve heard, there was a recent incident on the grounds. Thirteen was badly injured and we’re in need of a new teacher with expertise in natural disaster management.” He smiled at you. “I thought you would be the perfect match.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I was under the impression you were going to try convince me to take a work study student.”

“I’m sure you will one year,” he joked.

“Unlikely but you can always offer.” You sighed and turned your gaze out the window. “I have little care for children. This will be a temporary position, yes?”

“We’ll see how it goes.”

You gave him a look but the principle just sipped at his tea. He already knew that you were going to accept – if only because you had always been a close friend of Thirteen’s. Taking over one class wasn’t going to kill you.

“I don’t have any experience in this,” you reasoned. “Other schools must have teachers who can come and cover classes?”

“None who are as experienced in the field as you are. So I’ve organised with Hizashi Yamada to take you through his methods of teaching and you can convert them over. He’ll be here soon.”

You sunk further into your chair, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “What would you have done if I said no?”

“Been very disappointed, of course.”

Present Mic was a hero you had always admired but you hadn’t ever expected him to be as loud in person as he was in the media. You just about jumped out of your skin when he entered the room dramatically, calling out a greeting.

Nezu gave the introductions and informed you that before doing an actual class, you had a week of acting as an assistant instructor alongside Present Mic.

“Should I invest in earbuds?” you joked.

He laughed but then actually lowered his voice as though you had reminded him. “Don’t worry. If I yell too much in class, Shota tends to come and glare through the doorway until I quieten down.”

You chuckled. “Do you have similar teaching schedules?’

“No but he claims that he can hear me from anywhere in the school. It’s the best way to find him actually. You just yell until he shows up.”

“I’ll take that as lesson number one in how to teach at U.A.”

“Lesson number one is to not take Nemuri’s flirting seriously,” he corrected. “I know it’s very flattering to think that she’s interested but she’s not. If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell her to stop but she doesn’t always listen. It’s part of her image, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow at Nezu but he just shrugged. That didn’t seem like it was too professional but alright.

You took a deep breath and tried to pretend that this was just going to be temporary. It wasn’t like Nezu had been trying for years to get you involved at the school.

Temporary.

“Which subject do you teach?” you asked as you followed Present Mic from the office.

“English. No crazy action or anything which means you have to work double time to keep the students interested. You’ll have it far easier.”

Nobody really prepared you for the fact that Class 1A didn’t know how to do things the easy way.