#the left most side of the bar is now skip back 10 seconds. instead of the fucking play/replay button.

[welshattack]

WHY IS THERE A SKIP 10 SECONDS ON EITHER SIDE OF THE PLAY BUTTON ON YOUTUBE.... BITCH THERE’S KEYS FOR THAT GET THOSE THE FUCK OUT OF THERE

[whump-a-la-mode]

A hero is in a coma. Villain visits them every single day, loosing sleep, not eating, their life is now completely focused around the empty hospital room.

Until hero wakes up and notices how sick villain has become due to anxiety and not taking care of themselves. Caretaking?

This is such a cute ask!! There’s only a little caretaking, but as always I’d be happy to write some more ^^

To all non-Americans out there, I am so sorry for using our weird 12 hour clock in this piece

CW//Comas, medical settings, just some horrible self care, mentions of explosions, bad hygiene, sleep deprivation, low self esteem, blaming self, strong language

���How are they doing?”

The voice alone was enough to make Doctor jump, spinning on their heels with such quickness that their shoes squealed on the tiled hospital floor.

Oh. It was just Villain.

Just Villain. It was a ridiculous thought to have, and they were well aware of that fact. Only a few short weeks ago, the name would have been enough to make any well-minded civilian tremble. It was bad enough, to hear it spoken on the news. Worse, to hear it not coming from a television-- in some cases, that name was all the warning one was given, before a terrible fate befell them. A nameless causality in the never-ending battle of good and evil.

But, now, there was no terror associated with it.

Most hospitals, Doctor was well aware, were fortunate enough that villains did not often pass through their doors. When they did, in the best cases, it was to seek treatment. In the worst cases, they had far more destructive intentions.

Their hospital, however, was an exception. There is a saying, that one can get used to anything, and with their experience, they now believed it to be more than true.

Doctor sighed, letting their shoulders fall.

“Visiting hours are over, Villain. You need to go home.”

The villain’s eyes widened, flickering momentarily to the nearest clock. In fact, it was past the end of visiting hours. Well past. Night rounds were about to begin, even.

It was simply so easy to forget Villain, hunched over in their little plastic chair.

Especially with those big, pathetic eyes with which they regarded Doctor.

“I can’t leave.” They pleaded. “Not yet. Can’t I stay just another hour?”

“No, Villain. We’ve been over this. You can come back tomorrow, bright and early, right at seven.”

“But it’s eleven, now! That’s eight hours. Eight hours they’ll be alone.”

“Not alone.” Doctor bit their lower lip. They knew full well that the person before them could render them to a charred corpse in mere seconds, if they so wished. Their tense, skipping heartbeat wouldn’t let them forget it. But, there was no malice in their eyes. Not an ounce. Only that terrible, pitiful sorrow. The sorrow that never seemed to leave them. “There’s people here, all night. A whole medical staff. If anything happens, they won’t be alone. I promise.”

Villain’s lip quivered. Weren’t they supposed to be dangerous?

“You’re sure I can’t stay? Just another hour?”

“I’m sure.”

“O-Okay.” The villain reached into their shoulder bag, and, for a moment, Doctor nearly pressed the nearest panic alarm. Yet, they withdrew no weapon. Instead, Villain took a small, spiral-bound notebook in hand, offering it. “Here are my notes. Um, just so you know. What they did today.”

Doctor’s gaze downcast to the paper. They already had three of these, piled on their desk. Filled to the brim. This one had only recently been started.

The page the notebook was turned to displayed the same thing as all the rest: Impeccably neat handwriting, dividing the page into half hour blocks. In each, letters of equal quality described the patient’s condition, down to the most minute detail.

3:30 - Minor twitching of the eyelids accompanied by singular irregular heartbeat.

4:00 - No abnormalities.

4:30 - Twitching of left index finger.

5:00 - Abnormal breath at around 5:12.

It was the best-kept record of a comatose patient’s condition that Doctor had ever seen. Even if it wasn’t exactly helpful, with how repetitive the patient’s movements tended to be, it was downright impressive.

“Thank you, Villain. I’ll tell the receptionist to expect you at seven?”

“Is there any chance I could come in earlier than that?”

“No. I’m sorry. Visiting hours start at seven.”

“I’m quiet. You know I’m quiet. I won’t be a bother to anybody.”

“I know, Villain. If...” They knew they needed to say something, or this argument would continue all night long. “If anything happens, we have your number on file. I’ll call you myself.”

“Really?” Their eyes widened. “You promise?”

“I promise. Now, you need to go home.”

“Okay.”

“You won’t hide in the bathroom and try to stay late this time?”

“You saw?”

“Everyone saw, Villain. Now, you’ve gotta skedaddle.”

The villain nodded hesitantly, looking to their shoes as they turned, moving down the hallway. As they left, Doctor could not help but mutter in their wake:

“And get some rest.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ 

Six weeks.

Those two words echoed hollowly in Villain’s mind as they plodded along the damp sidewalk, lit only by the dewy echoes of streetlights overhead. The hour was late enough, and the city tired enough, that the streets were nearly deserted-- a state they were in so very rarely.

Their henchmen had spoken to them so many times, lecturing them that moving through the city’s depths, alone and unprotected, was terribly dangerous. Any hero, or any vigilante too cocky for their own good, could try their luck in an ambush.

But, Villain could hardly bring themself to care.

Six weeks.

That was all they cared about.

Six weeks since Hero had moved. Six weeks since they’d spoken, since they’d awoken. Exactly six, now.

Exactly six weeks since...

Villain’s hands clenched to fists at their sides, overgrown nails digging into the meat of their palms.

Since they’d made the biggest mistake of their life. Since the two sworn nemeses, Hero and Villain, light and dark, good and evil, had had their final battle. An industrial sabotage gone wrong.

They should have known better! Better than to use their pyrokenisis in an oil refinery.

But, that hadn’t. They hadn’t been thinking. They never thought! They were so stupid, so reckless, so careless...

Villain’s ears still rung from the explosion.

Their injuries meant nothing, even as they still throbbed. No. Because, for the last six weeks, they had been awake. Moving. Talking.

Hero hadn’t been so lucky.

When they at last arrived at their HQ, the halls were silent. Life existed only in the form of a scattering of guards, nodding their respects, but making no other gestures.

It was with weary legs that Villain ascended to their bedroom. They hardly noticed its state-- they’d grown used to the scatterings of clothes and papers. Instead, upon opening the door, their eyes snapped to the bed.

More specifically, the item upon it. They rushed to it, yanking it off the mussed blankets.

A book. A note, upon its cover.

“Went to bed before I could give this to you. It’s that book you wanted - Henchman”

Villain removed the note, far more interested in the cover it hid.

A Neurologist’s Guide to Chronic Vegetative States

There were more than enough pages within to last them until sunrise; until visiting hours at last recommenced.

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At 5:40, the sun began its ascent, bathing the sky in a dull hue of blue.

When six o’ clock came, the first rays of light could be seen, flashing over the horizon.

With the strike of 6:10, Villain placed down their book. They were only around halfway through-- wandering eyes and brief minutes of dozing lowering the speed at which their foggy mind could process the medical textbook.

They would have more than enough time to read, the next night. The book didn’t matter. What mattered was that visiting hours would commence in 50 minutes, exactly.

Twenty minutes to walk to the hospital. Meaning that, to get there early, they needed to leave in fifteen.

Rubbing sleep from their eyes, Villain rose from their chair, knees popping and cracking all the way to the bedroom door. Quickly, they changed into the cleanest clothes they could find, if only for the sake of appearances, before heading out.

Showering could wait. Showers took time, time that could be spend watching. Reading. Taking notes.

Helping. Doing anything, anything they could to help.

Emerging into the hallway, they startled a moment. The lights had already been turned on, despite the fact that their henchmen never awoke this early. Perhaps they had simply forgotten to turn them off the night prior.

Yet, there were noises, from downstairs.

There was no fear left in their body to feel. Justifications were quickly made, and they ran down the stairs.

Entering the kitchen, a scent hit Villain, forceful as a gust of wind. The scent of food-- warm and fresh and garnished with garlic.

Before the stove, Henchman stood. Out of all those Villain employed, Henchman was the least likely to be awake at such an hour. Often, they dragged themself from bed well after ten.

Yet, here they stood, flipping a pancake in a skillet.

“Hey, boss.” Their henchman turned, a grin glimmering upon their face. “I’m almost done here. Get yourself something to drink.”

Villain blinked.

“What... are you doing?”

“Making breakfast? I thought that’d be pretty obvious.”

“Yeah, I can see that. But... Why? You never eat breakfast.”

“Yeah. It’s not for me. ‘s for you, boss.”

They shook their head, glancing at the clock. 6:17.

“I’m not hungry. Besides, I really need to get going.”

“Boss.” There was an endeared, yet frustrated, tone to the voice. “When was the last time you ate?”

“You made me eat a granola bar yesterday.”

“And the day before that, you didn’t eat anything. So, you’re eating breakfast, if I have to shove it down your throat.”

They clenched their hands to fists.

“I don’t have time for this! Visiting hours are going to start soon. I need to be there.”

“No. You need to eat. Then you can go to the hospital.”

“You don’t get to decide that. I need to go. I’m sorry.”

“Boss.” Henchman slid the pancake onto a plate before deftly stepping between their boss and the front door. “I don’t mean to be blunt, but you look like hell. I know you haven’t been sleeping. Everyone knows it. If you keep acting like this, you’re going to be the one in a hospital bed.”

Villain gritted their teeth.

“Maybe that’s what I deserve. Now, fuck off. Get someone else to eat your damn pancakes.”

With those words, and furious footsteps, they emerged onto the sidewalk outside.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When Receptionist arrived at their desk, there was already a patron, sitting in their waiting room.

A few short weeks ago, such would have been unusual. While other parts of the hospital were occupied day and night, the appointments handled by this room did not begin until the hospital actually opened-- right at seven.

Now, though, there was nothing strange about it.

Before they could so much as sit down, Villain was already moving towards them.

Receptionist could not help but note their appearance.

Working in a hospital, they had long since grown used to seeing the sick and injured. And yet, there was something particularly distressing about this case.

They supposed, it was because they had seen it happen. Usually, when patients arrived at the hospital, it was because they could no longer manage their own conditions. Their bodies were in shambles. They showed up in their damaged states.

Villain, on the other hand, had first appeared to the waiting room is relatively good health.

Then, they had begun to appear tired.

And thin.

Now, their appearance matched that of the comatose patient that they were here to see. Skin clung taught about their cheekbones, their flesh pale and eyes glazed over. Most semblances of hygiene had been abandoned entirely; some parts of their hair had even begun to mat, and dirt clung to them like caked and cracked makeup.

But, there was something else in their eyes. The sheer essence of undying compassion.

It was that alone that prevented Receptionist from sending them away.

Villain had no need to speak. As soon as they had time to sit, the hospital employee had paged the proper floor-- a sequence of buttons that had quickly become muscle memory.

“You can go up, now.” They spoke. With a wearied nod, Villain moved to begin their ceaseless watch.

Neither of them could have guessed that, an hour later, the unthinkable would come true.

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When Hero awoke, it was to the sound of a pencil, scratching at paper.

The world filled in with a terrible, exhaustion tedium. Above them, blurs of white and grey turned to a sterile, white tile, while the world about solidified to four pale, beige walls.

A hospital. They’d been in enough to recognize as such, with just how clumsy their teammates tended to be.

But why were they here, now...? Who had gotten hurt, this time? They couldn’t quite remember.

Rolling onto their side, the question was quickly answered.

Villain appeared to be on death’s doorstep, about to press the doorbell. Matted hair clung to their neck, eyes drooping and skin appearing as though there was no blood beneath it at all.

At the very least, they had made it to the hospital before suffering any serious damage.

Wait.

It was only then that Hero realized who exactly was in the room’s hospital bed.

[yourmidnightlover]

congrats!!! could you write a spence x fem!reader for fluff 10 & smut 7? thank you and ily<3

aghh fake dating 😭😩

i combined this ask with another anon’s, i hope you don’t mind :)

fluff #5: “you smell really nice”

fluff #10: fake dating

smut #7: “the walls aren’t that thick”

CW: blowjob, face-fucking, cursing, talk of canon-typical violence, kissing. *please let me know if i’ve missed anything.

he needed you to save him. he was practically begging you to, standing at the bar with a random girl stroking his arm while ignoring his, not only blatant disgust, but also his rambling of his aversion to touch because of germs.

so, since you were only going to the restroom, you decided to play savior to your genius of a best friend for a quick second.

“wow, you smell good, too,” the woman giggled in an annoying, high-pitched tone.

fuck no.

“hey,” you placed your hand on his shoulder. you felt him jump from the contact, but once he looked over his shoulder you saw his worried gaze turn into one of comfort and familiarity. “is everything alright here, honey?”

“oh, uhm,” the girl scoffed. “who’re you,” she scowled at your presence.

“i’m his girlfriend. and you are?” you turned the question as spencer wrapped his arm around you, you placing your hand over his on your stomach.

“ugh,” she rolled her eyes before walking away.

“apparently she’s leaving,” spencer whispered once the woman was out of earshot, allowing you to stand in front of him instead.

“i can’t believe that girl. who the hell does she think she is?” you rolled your eyes and let your hands rest over his shoulders.

“she’s not you, so it doesn’t matter,” he leaned in to press a chaste kiss to your lips, which you decided to deepen.

maybe you were on a case going undercover as a couple. regardless, what could you say? maybe you were territorial. okay, you are territorial. it doesn’t matter; spencer loves it - even if it is just for a case.

you had both discussed your boundaries with one another, and reached an agreement. most couples weren’t afraid to kiss in public, so you both had become comfortable with the idea - maybe a bit too comfortable. you had been undercover for 4 days now, and had formed a routine with each other. the unsub had been killing couples who’ve had premarital sex, which was the part you two weren’t too sure on how to approach.

“good,” you began peppering kisses down his neck, your hands now raking through his hair.

the unsub had picked out all of his victims that attended this bar, specifically. there were some that thought he might work there, but you needed the solid proof. none of the other couples were expecting to be ambushed, but spencer and you were.

“there’s a bathroom by the break room,” you began to whisper in his ear. “we should meet in there, try to convince them we’re having sex if the unsub is really here.”

“yea, right,” he breathed out, his hands on your waist and neck gently stroking your skin. “now?” you nodded against his neck, he felt your smile against him.

you moved from between his legs and grasped his hand, your much smaller one guiding him to the bathroom. once you made it in there, you pushed him against the wall, locking the door whilst doing so.

your teeth gently nibbled on his skin, your tongue soothing it after. you felt his breathing slow down severely, giving you a bright idea. you rolled your hips into his and felt the prominent bulge that had formed while you had been pursuing your antics. you trailed your hand down his torso before cupping his clothed dick in your hand.

“what a surprise,” you chuckled against his skin.

“s-sorry,” he whispered before you leaned back, noticing the blush on his cheeks. “you can - you can just ignore that.”

“what if i don’t want to?” you squeezed his cock through his pants before dropping to your knees in front of him. “the walls aren’t that thick, so be as loud as you please,” you began undoing his belt before you looked back up at the man.

“it’s alright,” he nodded. “you can keep going.”

you smiled before taking him out of his underwear, notably eyeing his size before pressing short, sweet kisses to his tip and the base of him. adding to the kisses, you began kitten licking up the vein in his dick, admiring the groans and the way his hands shot down to your hair.

after feeling as though you teased him enough, you opened your lips and let his tip into your mouth. you took him to the very back of your throat and swallowed around him before beginning to bob your head.

“fuck, baby,” he moved your hair behind your ear so he could see more of your face. “so pretty.”

you looked up at him with wide eyes, his head was thrown back against the door as heavenly noises were leaving his mouth. you moaned around his dick before his hips thrusted into your mouth. you let your jaw go slack, signaling you were letting him take the lead.

“so fucking good,” he let his hand grasp the rest of your hair before he began rapidly thrusting himself into your mouth, using your throat the best way you thought possible: spencer reid’s pleasure.

it was only two minutes later when he was forcing you down to his happy trail, your nose touching the hair, when he came down your throat with a loud groan. you made sure to make eye contact with him as he reached that high, not wanting to miss something so beautiful.

there was something special about someone so perfect being turned on and brought over the edge by yourself. a sense of pride flooded through your veins as you swallowed his seed, the eye contact nearly making him hard once more.

“god, i love you,” he whispered before leaning down to press his lips to yours, skipping over the phrase he just admitted. you gladly welcomed the kiss as he helped you rise to your feet.

“hey,” you pulled back slowly, your hands tracing his cheekbones. “i love you, too.”

“you-really?” he left his hands on the sides of your face as he questioned you.

“of course,” you chuckled. “you really think i’d suck off someone i don’t love when we’re on a case to catch an unsub?”

“i guess not,” he smiled before pressing his lips to yours once more. “you think the unsub heard?”

“let’s hope so,” you shrugged. “but if not, it won’t be the end of the world if i had to do that again.”

“i would have to agree,” he laughed before grasping your hand as you had to lead him into the room, only this time, he was leading you out.

now, all you had to do was wait for the unsub to make his move. at least you had already made yours.

[eclipsedpascal]

Lavender Bruises

Older!Duncan x Female reader

A meeting with you and your father’s company’s buyers, leads to the shocking realisation that you had unknowingly slept with it’s new owner, Duncan Shepherd, just the night before. You needed to hide this sinful secret from your father, which left you stuck between wanting to make him proud and the unsatisfied craving you couldn’t ignore for Duncan to claim you as his personal toy. But you could manage both. Right?

Warnings: mentions of work (ew), alcohol, one night stands, large age gap, daddy kink, size kink, unprotected sex, public sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), intercourse, spit kink, slapping, spanking, hickeys, bruising, degrading/teasing, mouth fucking with fingers? is that a thing?, hair pulling and a ring kink ig:)

Notes: I've been writing this for fkn MONTHS now bcs I kept loosing inspiration, so this is actually the first thing I ever properly wrote! it's kinda complicated ig? idk like the parts in bold are a time skip to the night before and the fic goes in-between the meeting the reader is at and the previous night, meaning there’s two separate smut scenes so!!! but yeah i'm a whore lmao. Also ik hickeys don’t show up the same on certain skin tones and i’m sorry for that. i tried my best to be as inclusive as possible nd didn’t mention anything to do with the skin tone. Also!! if you're interested, I was listening to Cherry lips by garbage most the time I was writing this nd I feel like it fits it pretty well😌

Word count: 8.4k

●●●●●●●●

Going over the logistics of a content deal with the conglomerate that had recently bought your fathers newspaper wasn't the most preferable way for you to spend your lunch, but unfortunately it was necessary.

You know how these “lunches” go; business meetings disguised as casual discussions. They’re exactly the same if taken place in a conference room. Disagreeing and having to come to compromises you’d rather not, with the only differences being there's more chatter and cluttered noise of dinnerware coming from the restaurant around you.

You much preferred being in the office for these kind of things, but it was at the request of the new owners that you meet here, meaning you didn’t really have choice.

As you arrived at the restaurant you saw your father inside, waiting for your arrival just past the main entrances oversized, glass doors. You were almost 10 minutes late now and you knew he would be pissed. Honestly, you couldn't blame him.

Having to rush through a traffic riddled DC to get home at 10 in the morning because you had spent the previous night in a strangers hotel bed wasn't your proudest moment. Was it worth it? Yes, but it didn’t exactly leave you with much time to prepare for the lunch only two hours later.

You payed the driver and stepped out of the cab onto the drowning, wet sidewalk, desperately trying to shield yourself from the relentless rain that had been pouring down on the city all morning.

Looking up at the grand building on front of you, you could tell the place was going to be expensive. The entrances steps were 12ft wide and made of a pearly white marble that was now soaked with cascading rain water, making them even harder for you to run up in your heels as you tried escape the cold.

“Y/N, where have you been? You're 10 minutes late and these people don't like to be kept waiting." The people your father was referring to? the owners of Gardner Analytics. they had bought what seemed like hundreds of press company's over the past few years, especially those in the DC area. Their most recent purchase being the Washington herald, of which your father was the Editor-in-chief. You had been working there for a few months as your fathers assistant and helping out at these meetings had become routine.

“I'm so so sorry, my alarm didn't wake me and I-“

"It's fine" He interrupted "It's fine, just please tell me you have the documents I asked you to bring?" You could tell he was stressed out from the way his voice was wavering and how often he was stumbling over his words, so instead of trying to explain yourself any further you stayed quiet and did your best to take in as much of the information he was relaying onto you as you possibly could.

As he led you through the dinning room he explained to you who else was there, telling you that the others from the herald who were attending the lunch had already began talks with Gardener Analytics at the table ten minutes prior.

The closer you got to the table the more your fathers voice faltered, trying to round off the conversation so he could properly introduce himself when the time came. "Now Bill Shepherd had to cancel last minute, said it was something to do with his health unfortunately. But not to worry! I've spoken with him over the phone and he's informed me his nephew is filling in for him, okay?”

Before you even had a chance to reply he turned from you, reaching over the table to shake hands with a man you recognised as Seth Grayson; their director of communications, and an older woman who you assumed was Annette Shepherd. She and her brother Bill were the owner's of Gardner Analytics and your father had said it was important he got on their good side.

As your father greeted the others, you began retrieving the documents out of your bag, knowing they would be needed by Seth right away.

"..So sorry for the delay Mr Shepherd, you know how DC traffic can be" Your father chuckled slightly as he shook the man’s hand, making some light small talk. Mr Shepherd? that must be bill’s nephew, you thought.

You felt even more unprepared now; you didn’t even know the man’s name.

"This is my daughter and assistant, Y/N" Upon hearing your father introduce you to the mystery Shepherd, you slotted the documents under one arm and reached out to shake his hand with your other.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Shepherd" But as you shifted your gaze up to his own, you realised that there was no need for introductions.

He smiled gently, a kind of smug delight obvious in his eyes as he looked you up and down, taking you all in. "The pleasure is all mine, Miss Y/L/N"

He released your hand from his grasp, moving to clasp his own behind his back. “But please, call me Duncan.”

Duncan fucking Shepherd. how could you be so oblivious? The two of you had spent hours together last night. How hadn't you figured out who he was? As panic ripped through you like a wildfire, you wondered if Duncan was feeling the same way; but from the look on his face, he was enjoying this.

●●●●●●●●

11:34pm previous night

It was getting pretty late now, and meeting someone who could fuck the stress out of you was becoming less and less likely by the minute. so deciding to finish your drink and leave, you took in the room one last time; making sure you hadn’t missed anyone interesting.

The fluorescent red and blue lighting of the expensive hotel bar was just bright enough for you to spot an older man you hadn’t noticed before. He must have been at least 40. He was sat in a booth with five or six others, all drinking, laughing and joking, yet he was staring at you.

Taking the seat next to you, he called out to the bartender. “Bourbon. Neat.”

You'd been waiting for him to come over ever since you saw him. It had been 20 minutes or so of quick glances and smiles to each other before the group of men he had been with dissipated. You had heard one of the men he was with refer to him as ‘Duncan’ when he had said his goodbyes, but other than that all you could assume about the man was that he was rich; judging by the all black LV suit he was wearing.

"Can I buy you a drink?” Turning to face at him when you heard him speak, you were practically stupefied by how attractive he was. His hair was full of shiny grey streaks that aged him. His stubble complimented his cheekbones perfectly and the speckles of grey throughout it helped bring out the brightness of his piercing blue eyes. His lips were full, and you couldn't help but notice how soft they looked.

“Vodka and coke” You smiled, trying your best to be confidant, but they way he was looking at you was giving you butterfly's you couldn’t swat away.

“I.D?” The bartender asked. You grabbed it out of your purse, proving your age to the bartender before watching him walk away to make your drink.

There was a brief silence before the man spoke again. “I hope my staring didn’t bother you, I just couldn’t take my eyes off you.” His flattery almost made you blush, but he wasn’t going to get you with a line that bad.

“Didn’t bother me at all, though i’m sure your friends there must have been envious” You chose to ignore his cheesy line, knowing that as much as you wanted him to take you there and then, you would much prefer making him work for it.

He chuckled slightly, knowing the game you had chosen to play. he looked away from you and down into his glass before taking a swig of the golden-brown liquor that occupied it. “Well I’m known to be quite a busy man, so I’m sure they understood.” He turned to face you slightly, waiting for some kind of reaction from you.

“Busy enough of a man to be drinking on a Tuesday night?” You questioned him teasingly, Ignoring that you yourself had the most important meeting of your young career in just over twelve hours.

“Is that really such a surprise? Most times being so busy is the main reason for drinking” He joked with you as he flirted, making it hard for you to keep eye contact without going red at the thought of such a beautiful man seeking your attention.

Duncan could see how nervous you were under the confident demeanour you had put on, I mean you were practically screaming it out to him at this point. The way you were fidgeting with the chain of your silver earring as you leaned against the bar and the fact you couldn’t even look at him for longer than 3 seconds without blushing was evidence enough for him.

“Well, that’s true.” You giggled a little as you spoke in your anxious state.

Taking a hold of your drink, you wrapped your lips around the paper straw and moved your gaze over to the bartender who was now serving someone a few seats down, attempting to distract and ground yourself from the situation at hand.

You were gripped back into reality quickly when you heard him speak again.

“There’s no need to be so nervous, I’m not going to eat you.” You found his use of the phrase quite ironic, being that’s exactly how it seemed. His eyes were piercing into you in an almost questioning manner, but when he gazed over your body, taking in your satin, black slip dress covered curves, the swipe of his tongue against his plump bottom lip gave you a very different impression; an impression he wanted to devour you. It was as if he thought you were that sweet snack he had been craving all week.

“No? That's a shame” You faked a frown, pouting as you moved to rest your chin on your hand.

“Well I think we should at least be aware of each others names before making such wild propositions, don’t you…?” His smirk never seemed to leave his face as he spoke.

He was good at this game, better than you at least. Of course It was obvious he was going to have had more experience with his age and all, but the way he was charming you so easily with just plain old conversation and confidence was getting harder and harder to match.

“Y/N, my name’s Y/N.” You batted your eyelashes at him a little, for some reason feeling smaller upon revealing your name to him. You felt as if you had lost the upper hand in the conversation suddenly.

“Hm, Y/N. That’s beautiful.” You rolled your eyes. Of course it is. Thats what they all say. You thought.

“Aren't you going to ask mine?” His ego now showing, you decided to make a bolder move.

“You rather fancy yourself, don’t you, Duncan?”

He finished his drink and moved closer to you. “Oh, so you already know my name?”

He was close enough to you now that you could make out the many beauty marks which decorated his cheekbones and hear the rasp of his voice even better than before. It was thick as honey and just as sweet too.

“I heard your friend call you it.” You quickly replied.

He scoffed a little, finding amusement in what he was about to say. He brought his face down closer to yours and began to run his fingers through your hair. “Hm, well he’s an old friend sweetheart. Most people would call me Mr Shepherd.”

You felt yourself grow hot, Duncans words casting a haze of complete lust over your mind.

You did your best to stay confidant, doing everything you could to ensure you didn't loose this game the two of you were playing. “Really? Is that what you like? Mr Shepherd.”

Your faces were so close to each others now that you could smell the bourbon on his breath when he let out a loud chuckle. His pearly whites showing as he did so. You even felt him graze his stubble against your cheek.

“Mhmm.” He ran his finger over your lips as he spoke slowly. "So tell me, what is it that does it for you Y/N? Hm? I mean a girl your age doesn’t decide to stare at a man like me all night just for the hell of it. So what is it? The power? The money? Or is it the age gap so big I could be your father?”

You squeeze your legs together as his sentence finishes, letting out a hushed whimper. Of course you were attracted to older men, that was obvious, but hearing him say it out loud in public whilst being so close to you turned you on even more than you thought previously possible.

He chuckled a little, “So it’s the age then, is it sweetheart? The idea of having a man more.. experienced pleasure you, instead of a man who would leave you to fend for yourself after finishing in less than five minutes. You want someone who can make you cum so hard you’d be begging him to make it stop, don’t you?” Every move Duncan made, every word he spoke was calculated, and it was all in pursuit of teasing you just because he knew he could.

You made a mental note of his nickname for you as you looked up at him. You felt his fingers run across your cheek and then push some stray hairs back behind your ear as you desperately tried to think of something smart to say, anything to say; but he had won. He knew what you wanted and he wanted it just as bad. You didn’t even care anymore. You were more than ready to give what little of a resolve you still had up to him.

He whispered to you as he moved his spare hand up the small of your back. “Now little one, I have the presidential suite of this hotel under my name tonight. So what do you say we go on up? Since now we're just so well aquatinted."

●●●●●●●●

Having to take part in a meeting with your father and the man double your age that you had fucked for hours the night before was NOT what you had planned for today.

“Mr Shepherd, I apologise that I didn’t make it here on time. I had a pretty hectic morning.” You did your best to keep your chill in your now shocked state, but with everyone watching the two of you it wasn’t easy.

“No don’t worry, I know how DC traffic can be, especially in this weather. As long as you're here now.” A wide smile was planted on his face as he spoke. The same as last night. He never broke eye contact with you, and you found yourself wondering how he could do it so easily.

“Please, sit.” He gestured you over to take a seat as he pulled out the chair next to his own. You thanked him politely and sat down, your mind racing and spiralling out of control at the thought of your father discovering the sinful deeds you and his new boss had taken part in just hours prior.

You felt him tuck you into the table before sitting down next to you. You could hear the voices of the restaurant that surrounded you and the others at the table coming at you. Every noise was muffled, as if your head was suddenly underwater.

“Y/N?” You were quickly brought back to reality when you heard Seth question you.

“From my understating you have the merger documents in your belonging, yes?” He looked at your father for reassurance this was definitely case as he spoke. So with everyone at the table’s eyes on you, you slid the documents over to him.

“Yes! And uhm the specifications for the more politically based content changes are detailed on page 25. I was told that was of high interest today?” You got yourself back on track, trying to stay as professional as possible whilst ignoring Duncan and the predicament you had found yourself in.

“We were briefly discussing the more major changes before you arrived Mr Y/L/N, but I believe you’ve already been made aware of most them?” Duncan addressed your father, kicking the meeting off. But you couldn’t concentrate. You were listening to the conversation, you really were! It was just that you were so wrapped up in Duncan’s voice you couldn’t actually understand what the fuck they were all talking about.

Seeing him so invested in the crucial conversation he was having with your father and the many other associates at the table was just doing something to you.

Observing the way his hands were moving when he spoke, you noticed how he would often clasp them together when he was explaining things, and how he would tilt his head slightly as he listened. His bronzed curls were combed to perfection, resting delicately on the right side of his face and when he licked his bottom lip, it sent a shiver down through your spine all the way to your cunt. You were entirely captivated by him.

Hearing your Father ask for your opinion on the subject being discussed, you shook off the spell Duncan’s attractiveness had casted onto you and responded, giving your perspective on the subject.

Duncan relaxed into his seat a little more as he watched you talking. He knew you had been staring at him, but it was cute, he thought. Almost endearing seeing you get so flustered at just the sight of him. He had seen you squirming around in your seat whilst you watched him and decided the accidental teasing wasn’t enough; he wanted to toy with you more. As much as he possibly could.

“You know, if you’re trying hide what’s happened between us then you might consider making your staring a little less obvious, sweetheart.” He was speaking quietly enough for nobody else to hear and not looking in your direction, pretending to still partake in the tables back-and-forth. Still the fear of your father, who was sat just across the table, overhearing Duncans remarks was petrifying.

You knew you couldn’t let your craving for him and the confusion from not knowing who he was last night effect the meeting, but there he was with that nickname again, stirring your desire even further.

“How are you even here?” You let your frustrations out onto him as you talked back, his cocky attitude getting to you too easily with the stress you were under. “I’m trying so hard not to ruin today and this situation isn’t helping! They’ll fire me if I mess this up and I’ll be fucked! Which surprisingly, I’d prefer not to be!” Your whispering was pretty aggressive, but could you really blame yourself?! This kind of coincidence was rare, so you had every right to be mad at the universe for letting it occur on today of all days.

His ego not faltering for even a second, he chuckled. “Oh you don’t wanna get fucked? Funny, because I remember you saying the exact opposite last night.”

He grazed his hand across your inner thigh, massaging it gently before diving underneath the little black pencil skirt you were wearing to grip onto your flushed skin.

You scoffed at his words and looked up at him, shocked at how bold he was being and expecting some kind of response from him, but he didn’t even look your way. You assumed this was so no attention was brought to the two of you and so you followed his lead, turning away from him just as fast as you had looked.

With the heat of your cunt having grown far too intense to bear, any friction that wasn’t your own thighs pressing up against each other was to be welcomed. So you decided not to stop him. In fact you did the exact opposite, spreading your thighs wider for him, not having the self control or restraint to keep yourself from him any longer.

His hand moved closer to where you needed him most, diving under the crotch of your underwear to swipe his fingers over your slick folds and immediately begin rubbing circles onto your neglected clit.

You stifled a moan, leaning onto the table on front of you to keep yourself steady as he touched you. Finally, he moved his gaze to rest on you, watching you as you struggled to stay silent. He whispered once more, “Always so wet for me, aren't you princess?”

●●●●●●●●

As soon as you entered the suite, Duncan gripped onto your waist, pushing you up against the door and cradling your cheek with his spare hand before smashing his lips into yours.

His tongue slipped past your lips, dancing with yours whilst he moved his hands all over your body, clutching onto your breasts and then moving them down to explore the rest of you.

He lifted your dress up just enough so he could grip your ass. Pulling you closer to him and making you feel his bulge against your hips, you were too short in comparison to him to feel him where you wanted to most.

He spoke to you in kisses, telling you of how ravenous he was for you and that he was going to savour every moment. He moved his lips down, trailing open mouthed kisses from your neck to your collarbones and to the top of your breasts.

“This fucking dress” He took ahold of the bottom of your dress, pulling it up above your head with urgency as you lifted your arms to better help him strip you. Throwing the dress down onto the floor and hearing it land somewhere behind him, he admired your body and it’s curves.

“The perfect wrapping for such an enticing present.” He finished his sentence. Immediately grabbing at your breasts, sucking and kissing them.

You couldn’t speak, too enthralled with the technique of his tongue swirling around your nipple to do anything but moan in response to him.

You threw your head back against the door, staring up that the beautifully patterned ceiling in pure ecstasy. You felt him drag a callused hand down to the waistband of your Lacy white panties, tickling the sensitive skin of your stomach as he traced his fingers over it. His finger tips running across the little white bow that centred the waistband.

He collapsed down to his knees, yanking the delicate lingerie as he fell, leaving it to puddle around your ankles.

He teased your heat, moving from kissing the skin of your thighs to your folds, but not yet reaching the lengths you wanted him to, only adding fuel to the fire in between your legs.

“Please Duncan-” you begged him, desperately needing some kind of release from the binds of lust he had managed to wrap you in over the past 45 minutes.

“Ah ah, don't you remember? You don’t get to call me that.” He spoke.

“I’m sorry, Mr Shepherd.” You corrected yourself, recalling the conversation you had with him prior to coming upstairs.

“Mhmm, now as magnificent as that name sounds coming from you, I know that there’s something else you’d rather call me.” He hummed in disapproval, calmly redirecting your choice of name for him and reassuringly pressing his lips onto your clit.

You let out a stuttered gasp, you did want to call him that, but now you felt nervous due to the build up he had created.

“Com’n, sweetheart. Do you think I don't know why you’re here in the first place? Why else would you be sat all alone in the bar of a hotel you weren’t even staying at? You’re just another slut with daddy issues, sneaking down to an expensive hotel to scavenge for any man good enough to fuck you into submission. Isn’t that right?”

Mildly insulted at his all too accurate observation of you, but enjoying the effect his degrading words have on you none the less, you gave him what he wanted. “Mm yes daddy!” You whimpered out, admitting your ploy to him.

A low rumble emitted from his chest, your words setting off some kind of animal inside him. He dove his face down into your pussy, starting by sucking on your clit gently, flicking his tongue over it and applying more and more pressure as you writhed above him.

His mouth was closed around you now, his grey, speckled stubble scratching your already inflamed skin. You were taken aback by his skills, intwining your fingers through the curls in his hair and tugging on them with every wave of pleasure that hit you.

He snaked his large hand around your thigh, lifting it up to rest on his shoulder while he ate you out. Enjoying the new angle he was utilising, he hummed, sending vibrations through your nerves up to the pit of your stomach, bringing you closer to your climax.

“Mmh.. fuck daddy, i’m gonna cum!” He didn’t let off, his tongue perhaps fucking into you even faster since you told him how close you were. You locked stares as your orgasm took over your body, your lips forming an o as you screwed your eyebrows together in rapture.

He came back up, letting you taste yourself and he placed his lips on yours again. You eased into the kiss, a relaxed haze having taken over your body in your post-orgasm state. Feeling a slight breeze flow up the side of your form, you realised that Duncan still had all his clothes on whilst you had none. Deciding you needed to change this as soon as possible, you began unbuttoning his suit’s matching black blazer and shirt, rushing to feel his skin on yours.

He helped you, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as you began to unthread his leather belt from the loops of his trousers. “You’re so impatient, little one.” He spoke.

“I think I’ve waited long enough, daddy.” You smirked, dropping the belt at his feet.

As soon as his shirt hit the floor you reached up, gliding your hands across the expanse of his bear chest, taking notice of how small your hands appeared in comparison to him. He watched you, relishing in the glimmer of entrancement that shone through your eyes as you ingested him.

He lifted you, his strong arms carrying you bridal style towards the king sized bed and throwing you down onto its crisp, satin sheets. Grabbing your ankles, he dragged you down the bed towards him and finished taking his pants off. His cock sprung free from the confines of his boxers, smacking against his stomach.

He clambered onto the bed, resting on his knees as he jerked himself in his hand, reluctantly groaning out at the first contact his neglected cock had received all night. His pressing cock had made it unfathomably hard not to just fuck you up against the door when he saw that sweet little way in which your face scrunched up as you came.

You were practically drooling, watching him fuck himself into his fist as his eyes scanned across your naked body. Not being able to wait any longer and wanting to finally feel his cock on your skin, you sat up slightly and reached out to touch him. But before you got the chance, he shoved you back down. leaning over you, he held your wrists down against the pillows with one hand and wrapped his other around your delicate throat.

“So greedy, baby” he stoked his thumb over the skin of your neck as he made his observation, watching you struggle underneath him.

“I just know what I want.” You toyed, your voiced coming out slightly muffled with the pressure of his large hand covering your voice box.

“Such an attitude, too.” His cock brushes over your cunt as he sways his head from side to side in disappointment and disproval. “Now sweetheart, you’re gonna stay exactly where you are and daddy’s gonna fuck you just like this, okay? So he can see that pretty little face of yours.”

You gulp at his words, anticipating the feeling of having him inside you. “Please just fuck me. Please.” You knew you sounded absolutely pathetic, but you didn’t care. Just needing him plummeting in and out of you as soon as possible.

He chuckled at your neediness. Taking his hands back from your wrists and grasping his cock, lining it up with your entrance and slowly pushing in, he let you adjust to his size.

Moaning out, you dug your nails into the bed sheets, watching his head drop down to yours as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

“Fuck, you take me so well.”

●●●●●●●●

He slipped his ringed finger into you, pushing against your spongy walls whilst you made a desperate attempt to suppress your moans. You bite down onto your nails, your elbow resting on the table as you put all your weight onto it for some kind of crutch.

He began with a slow pace, making sure you would feel every little movement he made. You heard him join into the conversation once again, mentioning something about an article he had seen from the Herald last month which had impressed him. You weren't even sure. You couldn't think for the pulsing beat of your own heart that filled your ears.

“You all right there, Y/N?” Your heavy breathing must have been a dead give away for something being up, being your father was now questioning you.

You felt Duncan stop his movements momentarily, joining the rest of the table in their standstill, staring at you as they awaited a reply, but his little act of sincerity didn't last too long.

“Yeah, uhm-“ you felt him slide a 2nd figure in, making you fake a cough as to stop the cry desperately trying to escape your throat from doing so.

“Yeah, I’m uh, just thirsty.” Hoping this would ward off the worried looks you were receiving, you were shocked when you heard Duncan chime in. “Oh don’t worry, we can get you something.”

He called the waiter over, asking him for a pitcher of lemonade and thanking him as he walked away, back towards the kitchen. You would have preferred some water, you thought, but you were far too focused on what was going on underneath the table to say anything.

“Now, where were we?” Seth began talking once more, bringing the attention back to where it should be. But Duncan? No. His attention stayed on you. Even more focused on fucking his fingers into than before, he sped up and began going even deeper now, curling them upwards until you were twitching.

You looked up at him pleadingly. You were getting too close to cumming for your own liking, so you grabbed onto his thigh and dug your nails into his expensive black dress pants, warning him. He shot you a devious grin, scissoring his fingers inside you and pressing his thumb down to rub sweet circles on your hooded clit, letting you know he didn’t intend on stopping.

He looked behind you suddenly. Following his gaze, you snapped your head to the side, trying to get a good look at what had grabbed his attention so abruptly.

It was the waiter. He had arrived with the pitcher of lemonade in hand and yet Duncan was still plummeting his hand into your pussy with such a speed you began to wonder if someone had actually noticed what was truly going on. I mean the waiter must know.

At this point you had let far too many questionable gasps leave your mouth, your breathing had become even more erratic as you grew closer to your orgasm. He knew you were about to break before he swiftly pulled his fingers out of you, wiping the juices that coated them back and front onto your skirt so he could pick up the glass on front of you, leaving you unsatisfied.

You scrambled to collect your thoughts and breath as he picked up the pitcher, pouring the ice cooled lemonade into your glass.

“Here.” He spoke. You lifted a shaky hand up to take the glass from him when the grasp he had on it ‘slipped’, spilling the contents of it the onto your lap.

“Oh!’ You jumped up, making the sweet, sticky liquid run off your skirt to your thighs, dripping down your legs and eventually onto the floor. The now empty glass falling with it.

“I am so sorry, Miss Y/L/N.” He picked up the glass, sitting it on the table before joining you in standing. Now he was stood, you could clearly see the dark tint of his cock straining against the constrictive fabric that was his dress pants. It sent a pulse of lust through your cunt.

“Duncan!” Hearing Annette voice her annoyance at her son for being so clumsy almost made you laugh. It was quite amusing seeing his mother reprimand him, being he was a grown man in his 40s.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I-I’ll just go clean myself up in the bathroom. I don’t want to distract the meeting anymore than I already have.” You made eye contact with your father as he rubbed his temples.

He was annoyed at the scene you and Duncan had caused. You gave him an apologetic look, feeling bad for stressing him out even more than you already had with being late, but knowing it was technically Duncan’s fault and not yours.

“Please, let me help you clean up.” Duncan pushed his chair in, quickly grabbing some napkins off the table and resting his hand on your back to guide you towards the nearest bathroom, walking as fast as your weak legs would let him.

His hand stayed delicately placed on the small of your back, until you were out of the tables sight, at which point he took hold of your arm, clutching it like a vice as he dragged you through the bathroom door.

He locked the door behind him in preparation for what was to come. He needed to make sure nobody would be walking in on what he was about to do to you.

Looking back towards you, satisfied as ever now he had you alone, he waltzed on over, pinning you up against the counter with force. You could smell him on you again, same cologne from the night before. Dior, you guessed.

“You’re not very good at staying quiet, are you, Sweetheart?” He mused, hoisting you up onto the counter and forcefully cradling your face with both hands as he moved to kiss you deeply. His tongue ravenously re-familiarising itself with your mouth.

“You almost got us caught back there.” He spoke in between kisses. “Your poor, naive father, watching you. He was probably wondering why you kept squirming.” He voiced a dark giggle, moving down to suckle on your neck and push your skirt up your thighs.

“I almost got us caught? No. Y-you almost got us caught when you decided putting a second f-FUCK, finger into me whilst I was talking to him was a good idea!” You choked out, doing your best to fight through the pleasure of his lips finally grazing your skin as you watched him pull your panties down and slot them into his pants pocket.

“Awh poor baby. Did you not want your daddy knowing that you’re a greedy little slut for his new boss? Hm?” He admired the blossoming lavender and cherry bruises now forming on your neck as he teased, marvelling at the idea they could be noticed by your father once you finished.

He quickly opened his fly, pulling his dress pants and boxers down just enough that he could pump his cock in his hand. Gripping onto your hips for purchase, his fingers dug into you so viciously you could feel the marks he had left the night before. You knew after this, there would surely be more.

He thrust himself into you, earning a loud wail to fall from your lips. You arched your spine at the feeling of him pounding into you, making your head fall back against the mirror behind you. His hand shot up to the it as he gathered more speed, his pace growing far faster than you had anticipated.

“Was it too much for you? Taking my fingers in your cunt whilst you were trying oh so hard to concentrate? I almost made you cum on front of everyone.” You moaned out at his grotesque words, pulling your head up to rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“Answer me.” He pulled your chin up back to look at him, still pounding into you. The sound of your skin slapping against one another’s felt even louder in the small, tiled bathroom.

“Yes daddy! It was too much for me - AHH!!” You let yourself go limp against the mirror, giving yourself up to him entirely and wanting nothing more than for him to use you like his personal rag doll.

●●●●●●●●

Your throat was growing hoarser with every squeal you made. Duncan had been fucking you ruthlessly for what felt like hours now, constantly changing his pace from calm to aggressive and back again. His lips were mouthing over your peaked nipples, tongue slathering trails of saliva across your skin and teeth scrapping over dozens of tiny goosebumps.

“Such a filthy, fucking whore for me.” Squeezing down on your neck with one hand he uses his other to slap you. His ringed hand coming down across your fleshy cheek with a loud crack.

You gasped out, shocked at this move and feeling reinvigorated by the suddenness of it. His abuse only made you more attracted to him, causing your cunt to puddle its juices around his cock.

Slowing his thrusts down to an almost complete halt, he grabbed your jaw, yanking your mouth open just enough that when he dripped his spit down you could catch it. You moaned at the filth of his actions, tasting the bourbon he had drank earlier at the bar.

Following the thick thread of salvia that connected the two of you to each other, he brought his face back down to yours, bringing your sloppy lips together. Never giving you the chance to close your mouth before he slid his tongue into it.

Your lips part, foreheads leaning on each other with eyes locked as you scream and moan at his brutal fucking. “Such a good girl.” He praised you.

“Thank you daddy!!” You cry out, feeling tears brimming in your eyes at the deepness of his cock. You knew he was going to be good when he first pushed you up again that door, but this was insane. You had never felt his turned on before. Loving being completely at his mercy, but receiving none.

He pulled out suddenly, wrapping his hands around your stomach and flipping you over to your front. You got the just of what he wanted and clambered onto your hands and knees for him. He pushed his cock back into your folds, hips ricocheting off your ass immediately.

He pulled at your hair, lifting you up to his chest as he gruffed and groaned. He was much larger than you, making it easy for him to pull your head back enough that he could see the expression on your lust enthralled face.

“Tell me what you want, baby.” He demands, spanking your ass cheek and twisting your hair around in his hand. His other hand moved to your gaping mouth, pushing two fingers inside so you taste the metallic bite of his silver band.

You gag as he fucks your mouth, mumbling around his fingers in a desperate attempt at begging him to allow you to cum. You were getting so close now. You guys had been going for so long and your impending release wasn’t going to wait much longer.

“Fuckk, don’t worry sweetheart. Daddy’s close too.” He took his fingers out of your mouth, bringing them down to your clit and swiping at it furiously. You could feel your own spit on his fingers as the coil in your stomach tightened.

“Ohh Daddy’s gonna come so deep inside you, little one.. would you like that?” His breathes were uneven. Thrusts uncontrolled and sloppy.

“Yes!! Fuck, fuck, FUCK Daddy I’m cumming!!” Your cunt pulsated around his shaft, squeezing his own orgasm out of him even sooner than he expected as you screamed. You could taste the saltiness of your own tears, them having run down your cheekbones and into your agape mouth.

His cum flooded your walls, filling you up with his hips pressed against yours as he enveloped you in an embrace from behind. He uttered out a shudder against your temple, his breathe feeling hot and damp on your skin.

He set you back down on the bed and pulled his softening shaft out of you, moving his large hands back to your hips as your own gave out and fell underneath you, pressing your face into the sheets. You eventually rolled over to lay on your back, wanting to let your aftershocks roll through your quivering limbs more comfortably.

He fell down onto the duvet next to you, propping himself up on his side slightly and pulling you closer to him so he could plant a kiss on your swollen lips. “You alright? I didn't hurt too bad now, did I?” He stroked your face, words alluring as ever now your resting bare bodies were tangled up together in a complete stand still.

“Nothing that I didn't enjoy, no.” You joked, lightly drawing intricate shapes on his arm with your fingertips, still harnessing the blemishing sting his ring had left under your cheekbone. “I’d say we're pretty well aquatinted now; wouldn’t you, Daddy?”

●●●●●●●

You could feel cool drips of perspiration slipping down your heated skin from your forehead to your collar bones and all you could do was hope they hadn't taken any of the concealer you had applied earlier this morning with them. You had needed to cover the bruise Duncan’s ring had so easily left on your cheek the night before, since you really didn't want your father or anyone else from work seeing it.

Duncan’s cock was curving in all the right places as he hammered into you. His pace and brutality showing you stars. He seemed even more confident than he did yesterday. Having had experience with you, he knew that you could take his most heinous savagery with delight and didn’t hold off one bit.

His huffs and groans were tantalising, growing louder and more uncontrolled as he fucked you into oblivion. His hand squeaked as it fell down the steamed mirror he leant on, leaving the glass behind you and finding its way to your jaw. He brought your face to his own and kissed you, loudly moaning into your open mouth.

You giggled through your mewls. “Mmm.. I thought I was the loud one, daddy.” You were amused that he had been teasing you so adamantly about the volume of your pleasure, when he was now the one making all the noise.

He paused, quirking an eyebrow at you before slamming his hips into you with a thrust so strong it made you practically scream out. “Oh, my apologises, sweetheart.” He smirked as he picked up his pace once more.

You wrapped your hands in his perfectly styled hair. You no longer cared who knew what was really happening in here, the thought didn’t even cross your mind. All you cared for was chasing your high. You rutted your hips on his and took his length entirely, feeling dangerously close to cumming.

“Fuckkk baby, daddy’s gonna cum okay?. Cum with me princess. Fall apart on my cock.” His unfocused thrusts had you coming undone in seconds. You held onto him tight, digging your nails into his shoulders and pulling at his curls as you cried out in ecstasy.

He shot his seed into you, feeling all his pent up frustrations from earlier at the table leave him as he pushed himself deep into your abused cunt. He didn’t even attempt to stifle his moans, too invested in finally receiving his release to realise just how loud he was being.

He rested his forehead on yours, your sweaty skin pressed against each other as you both attempted to catch your breathes after such a quick, ruthless fuck. You started laughing, finding it utterly ridiculous that you had spent the majority of a meeting you had been terrified for, getting fucked by your new boss (and the man you had fucked the night before) in a restaurant bathroom.

He joined in laughing, clearly finding humour within this strange situation too. Interrupting your laugh, he pushed his lips into yours, kissing you as if your lips were some kind of prize. You felt his cock slip from your cunt, his seed immediately spilling from it as you were left with a sudden, empty sensation.

He made quick work of zipping his pants back up and fastening his belt. You tugged your skirt back down to your thighs, being reminded of how Duncan had snatched your panties and stashed them in his pants pocket. You guessed you wouldn’t be getting them back anytime soon, which you were okay with, you just hoped nobody saw his remnants leaving you left the bathroom.

You flattened out your skirt and felt the wet sticky lemonade that still coated it. You had completely forgotten to clean it. “Fuck, my skirt's still sticky! Why would you order lemonade?” You whined; still mad he hadn’t just ordered some water.

Awaiting a reply, you turned to check your make up in the mirror. Luckily it was pretty light today, so it still looked good other than the bruise on your cheek now being slightly more obvious than before. What really concerned you was your neck. It was covered in every shade of purple and red you were aware existed. If your father and coworkers didn’t know what was going on from how weird you were being at the table before, or how long it had taken the two of you to finish in the bathroom, or the noises that were emitting from it, they would definitely know after seeing all the claims he had left on your skin.

“I’m sorry, I just didn’t think that spilt water would have been a good enough excuse to get you all alone in here.” He chuckled to himself, leaning over to rest his chin on your head and wrapping his arms around your waist as he joked over his mischievousness.

“But we should probably head back out there. I’m sure your father’s going to apprentice the beautiful mosaic I’ve painted across your neck” he kissed the bruises he spoke of as he watched you through the mirror.

You scoffed at him, gifting yourself one last look before completely giving up on finding a way you could make your face and neck appear more presentable for heading back to the table.

Duncan opened the bathroom door, nodding his head towards the hallway and waiting for you to hurry up and join him.

The two of you started walking back, your legs struggling to take your weight with how weak they had become. Your heels clicked along the floor, making you far more aware of how soon you would be sitting back down with everyone from work. Like a clock counting down to all the judgmental stares you would surly be receiving.

You kept your eyes trained on the floor as you took your seat at the table. Seths voice trailed off upon seeing the two of you sit down, leaving you both in the middle of an uncomfortable silence that felt near suffocating.

“What took so long!” You could hear the anger and perhaps embarrassment in Annettes voice as she whispered to Duncan. She looked towards you, glaring and scowling before retiring her vision back to him. She was probably hoping that what she assumed to have occurred hadn’t, but from the marks clearly decorating your neck, she would have known it to be true.

“Oh, we just couldn’t get the lemonade out of her skirt.” He tut as he spoke to his mother, smiling and playing off any obvious suspicions. “I’m sorry, really.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, dripping with a sincerity you knew to be false.

“So what was it we were discussing?” he speaks louder now, addressing the rest of the table.

“Uhh actually, I think we have a deal.” Seth replied, looking over at him and then the rest of the table. You heard your father mutter something in agreement, but it was meek. Quiet. He must have felt the awkward tension too. It was ripe in the air, like a shiver you couldn’t shake off. You didn't even want to look at him, knowing If anyone there felt most uncomfortable, it was him.

Saying their goodbyes and finishing up with any last details, everyone stood to shake hands and bid their farewells. You felt your fathers scowl as he came and stood beside you, but you didn't dare look at him. You were too ashamed to face him whilst still with your coworkers.

Duncan walked over to your father, looking more satisfied than ever with his eyes still focused on you as he thanked him for meeting and shook his hand firmly.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Mr Y/L/N.” He let go of your fathers hand only to take a hold of yours. He grasped it delicately, a touch more gentle than he had ever shown you previously. Assuming he was trying you shake it, you were more than surprised when he raised it to his lips, kissing your rosey knuckles; still red from the tight grip you had, had on his hair earlier.

“I look forward to working with you in the future, Y/N.” He graced you with once last signature smirk as he walked away, leaving you with your father who was waiting for an explanation and apology for your disgusting and foolish behaviour.

Maybe it hadn’t been the worst way to spend lunch.

Tags: @sojournmichael @dark-mei-rose @ntxoza @angelicmichael @jimmason @michaellangdonstanaccount @blakescoven @7-wonders @ghostangels @fernfiction @brattylovee @melodylangdon @brooklinn13 @instincts-baby

[cadopan]

Arsenal’s player ratings for Tottenham vs Arsenal FAWSL Matchday 7 (1-1)

now that’s strike two that Jonas gets for mismanaging a game and to an extent, it’s even worse than the Barca game because we were comfortably dominant in the first half and should have 100% walked away with the three points. let us not forget that this is the same team we steamrolled 5-1 just about a month ago in the FA Cup. and this is the exact same lineup (with the exception of Lotte in for Jen) that fared so poorly against Barca and then again today, so it’s apparent that something’s not ticking with this particular set of players on together. dreading how many flaws i’m going to have to pick out but alas, let’s get on with it. 

Starting XI: Manu — 4.5/10. i was going to go with a 5 but that was too generous because i counted at least three attempts (including the one that went in) where she just didn’t do enough and would’ve conceded be it for tremendous luck on her side. Spurs would’ve been 2-0 up and ran away with it when she parried Simon’s shot straight into Neville’s path; should thank her really, for skying that tap-in and messing up at the vital moment when she otherwise had a super game.  Noelle — 5/10. sigh, looked to be the standout performer in that backline yet again ...until she completely lost track of Kit Graham at the back post and allowed her to send in a shot with acres of space and time, which eventually led to the goal. i still think she did fine in supporting the attack, what i like about her is that she picks the right moments to get up and offer herself as an extra passing outlet or overlapping option. this is one of the reasons why she’s the higher rated side-back imo compared to Steph but more on that below.  Leah — 5.5/10. after a string of shaky performances, she edged it as the best performer in the defence today. that being said, the defence overall was still appalling at times, but her individual showing was one of the better ones. her confidence to drive forward with the ball and pinpoint long ball distributions are probably among, if not, the best in the league.  Lotte — 4.5/10. was having a fairly good game, couple of cheeky heel turns and composure under pressure, but yup she’s probably the one most guilty for that goal getting scrambled in. fully had the opportunity to hoof that away to safety, and didn’t. we all know what happened next.  Steph Catley — 4.5/10. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again: she is not reassuring in her defending. people skip past her too easily, and she doesn’t have the physicality/toughness of Katie to bully them off the ball. today, Katie was the winger in front of her but Katie was doing way more dispossessing and was practically doing the same things she does when she’s the LB instead. and the further frustrating thing is that Steph and Katie seem to have absolutely no chemistry or link-up on that entire left flank, so there goes anything Steph has to offer attacking-wise. her game just seems very one dimensional, if you get what i mean.  Lia — 5/10. i think it was apparent that the Arsenal midfield was getting overrun many a time, and it actually made Tottenham look very threatening on the counters. if they just had more quality on that final pass, Arsenal’s defence would have been scrambling even more than they already were. in terms of dictating the middle of the pitch, her presence wasn’t really felt and it was an outing to forget for Lia today. 

Frida — 6/10. not gonna lie, she was the only one in midfield i actually took notice of in the entire first half, creating key moments and really doing significant work in ball-winning and making sure she outmuscled everyone in her way. but then she disappeared in the second half (bar one shot), and eventually got subbed off. sadly, given the shocking standards of the entire team today, she was one of the standouts. 

Kim — 5/10. ah, the first time this season i’ve had to say that the masterful Kim Little did not have a great game. i’m not kidding when i say that during the first half i kept wondering “where’s Kim?” and actually had to take my eyes away from the ball to look for her on the pitch. bit better in the second half, but it was a recurring theme for her today that she took way too many touches on the ball and hardly played a part in penetrating the Spurs defence. 

Katie — 6.5/10. an unsurprising Katie performance filled with lots of vigour and shithousery (i mean the way she tangled Neville’s legs to intentionally bring her down is amusing if you’re an Arsenal fan, but you’d surely want to punch her if you aren’t). she played her part today i feel, nothing more she could’ve done with her strike that ricocheted off the crossbar and the sublime crosses she sent in for Beth’s first (best) chance plus Viv’s equaliser. 

Viv — 6.5/10. thank you, dear Viv. looked lethal the entire first half, and seemed to be enjoying herself toppling spurs defenders left and right with her sharp footwork. then went missing for almost the entire second half until she popped up to say “screw you Tottenham” and ended up snagging a point for us. can’t even say with conviction that we deserved it. on hindsight, it’s a shame how relieved and elated Arsenal fans had to feel with that late goal because this was a game we should’ve been winning comfortably. 

Beth — 5.5/10. mmm, she definitely created/got herself on the end of the most chances in this game, but also didn’t finish any of them off. if her first touch had been better with the very first opportunity in the opening minutes, Arsenal would’ve sailed into the lead and the texture of the entire game would’ve been different, guaranteed. she and the team will look back on a plethora of wasted chances and surely be kicking themselves tonight.

Subs:

Keets — 5/10. let me start off by saying that these two (Keets and Jordan) were the two worst substitution decisions by Jonas i’ve seen so far. not because of how they ended up playing (which was hardly impactful and all in all poor but that’s not the point), but because they were not the players the tone of the game needed. Arsenal were struggling to muster creativity to break down the defence, and you simply throw on like-for-like substitutes who offer the same things and aren’t going to unlock the game in any way... just why???

Jordan — 4.5/10. Jordan unfortunately gets an especially low one because it got more agonizing to watch after she came on. Jonas needed to recognise that the way she plays means that she is absolutely unsuitable to bring on as a sub when you’re chasing the game. Jordan’s playing style slows the game down a lot and she takes very long on the ball, which is far from ideal when what you want is to get the ball forward quickly and string passes together. She also commits a tons of unnecessary fouls (like the penalty given away vs Barca) which just breaks down any rhythm the team is trying to build in getting a goal back. 

Cait — N/A. she should’ve been the first sub ahead of Keets imo, taking Katie’s place on LW after Katie dropped to LB. ideally, the sub would’ve been Tobin here but Cait is still more nifty on the ball and creative compared to Keets who relies more on just bombing down the line with her pace. in fact, the first two subs and the last two subs should’ve totally been reversed! Jonas letting me down time and again today. and i would’ve thought Cait deserved more playing time after the superb performance she put in midweek.

Mana — N/A. what in the world was she doing on the bench so long when she didn’t even step foot on the pitch last game?! literally everyone and their mothers knew that she’s the wild card that can shake up the game and pick her way through the deadlock. we all saw how effectively this worked during the Villa game where she came on at half-time and her coming on basically won Arsenal the game; guess Jonas conveniently forgot that time he was actually capable of making good tactical changes. 

Bonus:

Jonas Eidevall — 2/10. the first real disasterclass from Jonas since he’s arrived. if we are to let the Barca game slide because 1) we were facing an unfamiliar challenge for the first time and 2) they were clearly head and shoulders above Arsenal in almost every area, this game was neither of those two things. it’s like his decision-making acumen flew out the window and he was blind to the obvious changes needed that were staring at him in the face. it wasn’t even a tactical masterclass required today, just standard stuff he’s done before and he fudged it up supremely. 

Referee — 3/10. terrible. does she have some allergy to playing an advantage? (for both sides too, not just Arsenal losing out.) looked like she was losing control of the game as every minute went by, and tried to regain that by forcing rigid decisions that just made her look even more ridiculous.  Overall: i’ve yet to even take into consideration how enraging this performance was today because of the occasion, the fact that it’s a must-win derby, but the fact that it should’ve been an assured win against opponents we're familiar with and demolished before. 

however, i don’t want to take anything away from Spurs because boy, they looked like one of the best sides (aside from Barca ofc) we’ve played this season. from early on in the first half, i was already impressed with the way they were smoothly playing out of Arsenal’s press and making strides towards our defensive third. you could tell that it was something well-worked on and they set out with a good plan to actually try and hurt us when they got their chances. Bravo, Rehanne Skinner. also, it bolstered them tremendously that their keeper Korpela and entire defence were having a blinder. and i have no special affection towards Neville, but the way she was playing, i would take her over every single one of our defenders today. 

RIP Jonasball. our unbeaten streak in the WSL continues, but today honestly felt like a loss.

edit: forgot to pick out my MOTM = Korpela, and was so swept up in the negativity that I didn’t get to mention Viv’s cute new ponytail today. 

[stealforreal]

Midoriya Izuku - Future kids I

Midoriya Izuku's day just got turned upside down. MIdoriya is slightly ooc, and I'm dissapointed with the quality of this work. I lost inspiration sorry, but here you go anyways.

Midoriya Izuku x f!reader

Warnings: none, maybe slight cussing

It had been a normal day, so far. Class 1-b and 1-a had a joint training session, and everyone was giving it their all. Iida was using his recipico burst against their team's opponents, giving Midoriya time to think up a new plan now that they had been discovered. They had previously planned to use Aoyama's navel laser to lure their opponents to a specific spot, before using Iida to get him away so Midoriya and Todoroki could apprehend them. The plan had unfortunately backfired, since they had captured Aoyama before Iida could get to him. The solid air user from 1-b had gotten him in his hold, and only after Todoroki had gotten him back did they realise how much the rest of the plan would fail. So now Midoriya was tasked with coming up with a new plan.

Todoroki was occupied with holding the others at bay, and Iida was running out of fuel so they wouldn’t be much help. Aoyama was on the brink of his usual stomach ache that followed with overuse, so he was also pretty useless. Even if he wanted too Midoriya knew he was out matched, a 4 v 1 would not end well for him, besides he had to look out for Monoma and his copy quirk. He was so in his head planning that he didn’t see the Copycat sneaking up on him, not before it was too late. He should have felt an impact, Monoma had pointed one of Bakugou’s explosions towards him. But the impact never came, instead he felt himself float in the air hovering over the remaining smoke from the explosion. “Don’t you dare hurt my daddy” A loud girly voice proclaimed, effectively gaining everybody nearby attention.

Turning his attention towards the girly voice, he felt himself freeze up. In the middle of their training field stood a girl around the age of 10, if he had to take a guess. But that wasn’t what caused him to freeze up, no not the fact that this young girl had somehow managed to bypass UA’s security. Which should have been impossible, considering all the improvements that had been made to it after all the villain attacks that had happened. No, what caused him to freeze up was the fact that before him stood this girl, who looked like a carbon copy of him. It seemed that way from this distance. “Who is responsible for holding Midoriya in the air?” Aizawa’s gruff voice rang out. “Oh right, I forgot about that,” The curly green haired girl exclaimed, catching the attention of the slowly increasing crowd. Slowly Midoriya could feel himself being lowered to the ground again, once his feet hit the cement the quirk that had previously held him in the air deactivated making him feel 10 times heavier.

“Who the fuck disturbed the exercise, I’m gonna kill who ever did it” a familiar angry voice yelled out, making Bakugou’s presence noticeable. Everybody was a little on edge, they had enough experience with villains to not foolishly blindly trust anybody. It didn’t matter that it was a 10 year-old girl, or that she looked like a carbon copy of the resident green haired cinnamon roll. “Man, Uncle Katsu you really were loud back in the day” This statement from the green haired girl left everyone speechless. ‘Does she have a death wish’ was the thought on most of 1-A’s minds, nobody was so casual with Bakugou because it was a serious health hazard.

Well everyone except maybe his two best friends, Kirishima and y/n. It was common knowledge in class A that Bakugou had a soft spot for his two best friends, they had honestly been shocked the first time they met her. She had walked into the classroom, blank faced, walked over to Bakugou’s table, smacked him upside the head with a book before leaving it on his desk, and walked out the door with only a quick “don’t forget it next time, Idiot”. Miraculously she had lived, and Bakugou hadn’t even begun yelling. An impressive feat in itself. Not long after Midoriya had begun noticing you around school, and found out you were a part of the support course. He came to know you a bit, his observation skills made that almost too easy. Slowly but surely he began falling in love with you, the way your hair frames your face, your sharp tongue that never held back. How you would stand up for anybody, it didn’t matter if you knew them well or not if they were in trouble you would help them.

“Hah, what was that you brat?” Bakugou’s loud yelling and heavy footsteps approaching snapped him out of his thoughts, and back to the situation at hand. “ W-wait a minute Kacchan, I’m s-sure that there is a logical explanation” He found himself saying before he could even register what happened. Midoriya was hit with an immense feeling of protectiveness, similar to when they had rescued Eri, but stronger. Without knowing he had subconsciously stepped in front of the girl, pushing her behind his back. “Don’t worry dad I can handle myself, besides it’s only uncle Katsu” she spoke up behind the protective cinnamon roll. “Explain now” Aizawa cut in before they could get side tracked again. It was like the fact she hadn’t introduced herself, only hit her now.

“ Right, allow me to introduce myself” Bowing slightly she continued. “ My name is Midoriya Izumi, I am 10 years old and from the future” Aizawa sent her a raised eyebrow, wanting an elaborated answer. “ My friend was being teased by the others in class about how he was quirkless” Izuku tensed slightly but continued listening to Izumi “ Since my friend’s parents each has a quirk related to time, his mom could speed up herself for only a couple of minutes and his dad could slow down others a bit. This made it really hard for my friend to know if he had a quirk or not, so I helped him research and test different theories. Our last one must have worked, which is time travel by the way, but I have no idea how long his quirk will last” Izumi rambled slightly, reminding them of another curly green haired individual. Difference is Izumi talked loud enough for them to hear, and a bit slower making it understandable.

“Wait, you said your name was Midoriya Izumi. Does this mean that you are Midoriya’s daughter” The ever stoic, conspiracy theory thinking, dual haired boy pointed out. “ Yep, sure am uncle Sho, Don’t tell me you don’t see the resemblance.” She stood next to Izuku hugging his waist with one arm, before continuing” I’m dad's younger copy but female, mom always says there is more wholesomeness in him than there is in her. I remember her asking dad one time why his genes were so damn strong. Luckily for her Haru looks a lot more like her, he’s her younger copy but male” The people present looked between the two Midoriyas, it was true nobody could deny that she was her fathers daughter. The only thing that was different was her eyes, they had specks of y/e/c instead of being fully emerald like Izuku’s were. Also she talks a lot, just like their classmate. They shared the same green hair, both were curly in texture and the classic Midoriya freckles. Though it seemed that she had gotten more of her mothers personality, at least they assumed so. I mean she stood up to Bakugou, without even flinching at his tone.

“Oi, squirt what’s your quirk. And quit rambling like shitty Deku” Bakugou asked, interest evident in his tone. “ Right, my quirk is called Telekinesis, so I can move stuff with my mind. It was also how I was able to keep daddy in the air” Izumi responded, puffing her chest out comically in pride. “Huh so it skipped a generation, and your quirk is stronger than my mom’s. But you also have a different approach so maybe that helps. I wonder why yours is stronger, is it because of your mothers quirk. But then again my quirk is also powerful maybe an aspect of it ties to the genes maybe that’s why your quirk is stronger than moms” The older green haired individual began mumbling on, and he probably would have continued if he hadn’t been cut off by his lowly daughter hitting him in the head. “ Daddy stop mumbling,” Izumi stated sternly.

Bakugou grinned, he liked this kid's spunk and she seemed to have a strong quirk, even if she was shitty Deku’s kid. “Oi squirt fight me” He loudly proclaimed, earning all his classmates attention. Almost everyone began yelling over each other, what the hell dude and she just a kid another one was so not manly bro. Instead of being happy her dad’s old classmates were defending her, stopping her uncle from fighting her she got annoyed. So what if she was a child, this wouldn’t be her first time fighting her dad or her uncles. Before everyone could attack Bakugou even more a voice piqued up “ Sure, if that is alright with you sensei” she directed her attention towards Mr. Aizawa.

It wasn’t rational to challenge a child to a fight, but he couldn’t deny she had a great fighting spirit in her eyes. So he allowed it, he was curious himself to see how it would end. The control she displayed earlier was phenomenal, and she was only 10 but she had a lot of potential in his book. He shooed everuýone a bit away from the hothead and the young Midoriya, and so then created a ring of sorts acting a the line of confinement.

3…..2…...1…...GO!

Bakugou charged straight in with his usual right hook, only to have it swiftly caught by Izumi. She grabbed his right hand, squatted down a bit, then swiftly pushed her shoulder into his rib. The momentum of that allowed her to, even with some difficulty, flip his much larger body over her shoulder and into the ground. There was a small second of silence where Bakugou just laid on the ground in shock, a girl over 5 years younger than him just flipped him over her shoulder like it wasn’t even that hard. However Izumi didn’t give him time to think as she sent metal bars towards him. They had been fried earlier, before her arrival. Bakugou used his explosions to evade the metal projectiles, sending another one straight towards her face. Die squirt die, his colorful vocabulary re-entered the scene. She used her Telekinesis to command the explosion to change course and hit Bakugou square in the face instead. Slightly dazed Bakugou didn’t have time to move before a heel connected to his temple, effectively knocking him out.

Everyone who bore witness to this fight was shell shocked, Bakugou lost. The fight lasted only around 8 minutes before the winner of the 1 years sports festival got knocked out by a 10 year old girl. “Huh, that was easier than expected,” the panting girl exclaimed. Izuku could feel his chest swell with pride, that was his daughter. Strong and smart just like her parents. She walked over to Izuku and slumped against him “ I’m tired daddy, carry me” She looked up at him with those doe green eyes, and how could he say no to his little warrior princess. Blushing, he picked her up, and she let out a sigh of contentment. Using her quirk to command things on a molecular level, like Bakugou’s explosions always took a toll on her.

“Midoriya take Izumi to the dorms to let her rest, the rest of you come with me for our next exercise” Mr. Aizawa commanded the frozen teens and teacher. Izuku then began making his way to the dorms, asking his sleepy daughter a tornado of questions. Do you know about my quirk, how does your quirk work, how old is Haru, am I a good dad, who is your mom? Even in her sleepy state Izumi answered his questions to the best of her abilities, though she refused to reveal who her mother was.

When they arrived at the dorms he put her on the living room couch, and went to leave to grab her some old All Might merch that could fit her. Before he could leave she grabbed his cheeks rather harshly, looking him straight in the eye she said “Don’t worry about who mom is, she loves you for you so it's gonna be fine. Also don’t screw this up so I’ll still be born.” Izuku sweat dropped nervously, before getting out of her hold to go find that old merch of his.

When he returned to the living room after finding what he was looking for, he looked around only to find that it was empty. He walked over to the couch and coffee table where he found a note, picking it up and sitting down on the couch to read it. Dearest daddy, I felt tingly so I think the quirk is gonna wear off now. I just wanted to say that you are awesome and the best daddy out there, I love you so much. I’ll see you again in the future - hugs Izumi Midoriya. Izuku’s heart fell, she had only just arrived an hour or so ago and now she was gone. He didn’t get to know his daughter better like he had hoped, and he didn’t get to see her adorably dressed up in his old All Might merch. He read the note over and over again, trying to satisfy his heart. He would see her again in the future, and then it clicked. his heart swelled, yeah he would see Izumu again some day.

Yeah he would see her again when he was married and happy. Yeah he could wait for that, as long as he has too.

@rainypeachbakerygoth

[talesofsonicasura]

Broken Toys

Chapter 1: Bleed, I must be dreaming

Tragedy can give rise to many things. Rumors, change, legends than just suffering and heartbreak. One such creation had very bizarre habits in the eyes of a particular noodle shop owner. Warning: minor blood, slightly description of death and injuries, extraction of harmful object(goes with the minor blood), mild swearing, and one super creepy child. Prologue

'The Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster. On April 7, 20XX, an semi-annual street race had their route improperly marked and blockaded. As a result, the racers end up turning down a street full of people instead of an empty road.

The result was all 12 cars crashing into various buildings and bystanders as they tried to come to a halt. 30 injured with 7 being the drivers and 25 dead as 10 victims had succumbed to their fatal injuries. Strangely, 10 year old Qi Xiaotion, a child who was hit directly by the lead racer's car, body has subsequently vanished.

Police haven't found the missing child or any possibility he could be alive except for the remains of a Monkey King Plush and what is assumed to be the child's right arm and lower torso. Search is ongoing and any future updates are unknown.'

This national incident was widespread throughout the community of Megapolis for two reasons. One was that some of the victims had been either high up or related to powerful corporations throughout the city. A few of the casualties were rumored to be descendants of both well known demons and even some celestials such as the Yellow Wind Demon but also rumored Jade Emperor for some of his soldiers were said to be seen in the city.

Some speculated this was a planned terrorist threat but no evidence had been found. The second reason is the creation of an urban legend known as the Broken Toy Phantom. On that very day, the body of a 10 year old child had gone missing. After that, sightings of a strange entity began to crop up.

Witnesses said it looked like a child but had cotton coming from open stitches and sharp blades out of their skin. Whenever the Broken Toy Phantom was spotted, the chance of a large monster in the form of a destroyed children's toy would be there. It is said that if you meant no harm should you encounter this phantom, it would leave you alone.

To try and harm the phantom was met with the claws of the broken toys that protected the child. Only warning one had if they were in the presence of the Broken Toy Phantom is the vague image of a monkey plush that held glowing red eyes.

Pigsy's Noodles

It was a warm early morning for the city of Megapolis. The last dredges of Spring were slowly dwindling as Summer was almost here. A time of year for the popular restaurant Pigsy's Noodles to begin changing their menu in preparation for the hottest season.

This modest establishment known for its delicious noodles, homely and comfortable atmosphere was also a precious treasure to the owner. A pig demon nearing his 40s named Pigsy, this short and stout man was not only the store's owner but also the cook.

Every dish he made was handcrafted with strong dedication and passionate based skill that could be felt through every bite. So imagine the 5'2 tall pink skinned and dark blue eyed demon's face when he went to open up his shop for today. Lying at the front by the side of the door was a child.

A young boy probably around 10 years old who sat around 3'7 in height. Long wild dark brown that haven't seem to be washed in days, soft tan skin with a large stitch under his right eye alongside some on his arms from the man could see, an orange shirt with violet sleeves and red collar that were stitched on, black pants with the bottom half blue jean material that were also stitched on, violet sandals made from leather, polyester and felt fabric sewn together, and the creepiest doll he ever seen cuddled in the boy's arms.

It looked like one of those very rare limited edition Monkey King collectible plushies that his friend had been ranting on about. The only difference was the gold thread eyes were replaced with bulging white plastic eyes and the flat face instead had a large openable muzzle bearing large white felt teeth.

Despite laying on solid concrete, the young boy was comfortably fast asleep almost if used to doing such a thing. A bit confused and worried, Pigsy placed his keys in the breast pocket of his white polo shirt then walked up to the child. For a second, he thought the toy's bulging eyes went from looking at the ground and by proxy his black dress shoes and black work pants to stare the pig demon straight in the face.

Whatever the case, it didn't matter as the child began to wake up. Chocolate brown eyes looking straight at Pigsy, a look of nervous embarrassment came across the boy's face. "Heh heh… Looks like I overslept a bit." In seconds the child had jumped to his feet faster than any normal person could.

The nameless boy clutched the ominous Monkey King plush closer and put on a nervous smile. "Sorry about that sir. I'll get out of your hands now so you can open up shop without an issue." And before Pigsy could say anything, the child skipped away into an alley just as quickly.

The restaurant owner could only frown before heading into the shop. Homeless people weren't anything new, especially in a big city like this, but it stung more when a child is forced to survive on the harsh streets. All Pigsy could do at the moment was wish the young man good luck.

Next time the middle aged pig demon saw the mysterious kid was once again by his restaurant. It was nearly closing time when the bell of the shop's door rang. The establishment isn't anything grand, a few booths, stools set up at the front near the register, some potted plants and pastel white walls decorated with a couple photos.

Pigsy had poked his head from the back of the door to see that very kid walk in warily. Once again, he felt the eyes of the kid's plush looking straight at him. The restaurant owner had a feeling the doll was magical as the kid spotted him in seconds.

"Hello there. Welcome to Pigsy's Noodles. Please sit down and I can get you a menu." Pigsy put on a soft smile since he really didn't want to scare off the poor kid. The unknown boy nodded before sitting himself at one of the bar's stools.

When the restaurant owner had come back with a menu in hand, the kid's Monkey King plush was sitting on the table almost perfectly. By perfectly it meant that the doll didn't slouch and sat straight with the same dexterity of a living being.

Pigsy shrugged the oddness off and gave the kid his menu. "How are you doing today?" The restaurant owner's question had the boy look a bit from his menu. Shrugging at the inquiry, the child answered. "I'm doing fine. May I have a bowl of chicken lo mein please?"

Pigsy didn't take the menu just yet but had gone to the back to fix the boy's food. As he made the order, the demon could hear his customer talk from outside the kitchen. Or sing to be more accurate. "An old toy sat on the desk watching the day go by. Missing cotton, tons of stitches, a cherished plaything looked to the sky. The toy said: I may be damaged but I am beloved. Even broken toys like me can be loved."

The restaurant owner paused for a moment. He never heard a nursery rhyme like that before. It was strange but in an endearing sort of way. Pigsy had come back with the kid's bowl of lo mein to see the child was shuffling a deck of cards in his hand.

The man didn't recognize the brand or had a good chance to look when the boy had placed them in a deck case and deposited it into a sewed-in pocket. "One fresh bowl of chicken lo mein, enjoy kid." Rubbing his hands happily, the child grabbed a pair of chopsticks and dug into his food.

Pigsy cleaned up the remaining dishes while his young customer ate his food in silence. Once the demon had come back, the child and plush were suddenly gone. Not even the doorbell had moved an inch almost if the boy just vanished. In his place was some money alongside a note.

"Thank you for the meal, it was delicious. Have a good night and sorry for sleeping in front of your shop the other day. From MK and my little buddy Guarn." After reading the note, the restaurant owner had softly smiled before taking both the paper and cash left behind.

It was the only beginning of a MK's nightly visits. Near closing time, Pigsy was greeted by the child and his peculiar plush. At first, the boy wasn't much of a conversationalist. Something worrying since most kids the pig demon saw weren't this quiet even around strangers.

MK was also never without his plush Guarn. Pigsy had a suspicion that the plush was magical as he always felt that those plastic eyes were very aware of their surroundings. Whenever the restaurant owner felt like the doll was watching him out of the boy's view, MK seemed to know his presence. Almost like a separate pair of eyes.

He didn't know the child's situation other than homelessness and maybe magical plush but he had a feeling there was more to it. MK will open up when he is ready and Pigsy was a patient person. The demon did add some extra portions to the young man's bowl though.

A growing child needed proper nutrition or their growth would be stunted. He may be rough but the restaurant owner was far from heartless. In less than two weeks, MK began to open up more. That was the same time one of his regulars had also come back.

This 'customer' was one of his human friends known as Tang. A raven haired man who considered himself a scholar of sorts, and didn't really pay for the noodles he kept eating. Normally Pigsy would chase any dine and dashers out of his establishment but Tang was someone he could trust.

The scholar had gotten him out of some nasty jams in the past and someone he could talk to whenever the demon's stress reached its peak. Now you can imagine Pigsy's surprise when he saw Tang chatting animatedly with MK. The child who rarely talked was now chatting the spectacle raven's ear off.

Once again, the feeling of the Monkey King plush or Guarn came apparent as the child faced the restaurant owner with a sheepish grin. "Hey Pigsy, I didn't know you had a kid." That one sentence from Tang had both the demon and kid sputtering in seconds.

Between the two of them, MK had found his words. "No Mr Tang. Mr Pigsy is just a very nice man who gives me extra food when he thinks I haven't noticed. Plus, I'm pretty sure he hasn't filed any adoption papers yet." MK said, that sheepish grin becoming mischievous as he made Guarn blow a kiss.

The scholar laughed at the restaurant owner's further flustering face almost if the whole thing was planned. Something that was plausible considering this was Tang of all people. "Very funny you little minxes. What were you guys even talking about since MK doesn't really talk much around me?"

Pigsy's question was met with the little boy shaking his head. "I didn't want to bother you since you were probably tired and closing up shop. Mr Tang and I were talking about different legends like the Monkey King for one." The pig demon blinked his eyes in surprise.

So the reason MK was so quiet is because the kid didn't want to bother him? How considerate. "I appreciate your concern but you don't have to be silent all the time. Whatever topic or thing that pops in your head, you can talk about it. Might not always answer but that doesn't mean I'm not listening." Pigsy explained, the child nodding thankfully at his words.

That was one mystery about the kid out of the way. Only for Tang to bring up another. "Do you know that little MK here is an incredible craftsman? Show him that design you were working on." Smiling, the kid pulled something out of his pockets.

It was an incomplete small red tapestry depicting a peach tree that sat above a collection of clouds. The restaurant owner could only gawk at the masterful detail and skill that could easily be seen throughout the work. Every detail was as accurate as a photograph and not a single thread out of place.

"Holy moly kid! You made this?! I'm pretty sure you just put every seamstress from the Celestial Realm to shame." MK beamed happily at the restaurant owner's compliment. The kid was definitely a hard worker and that showed through his craft.

Even though culinary and weaving were different crafts, Pigsy could see the hard work, skill and dedication of a fellow artisan. "Thank you! I also make clothing and toys in my spare time. A good way to earn money so I can enjoy more of your tasty food."

From seeing the tapestry alone, both adults had a feeling that MK's clothing and dolls were made with equal skill. It did raise a question though. "Is your outfit like a fashion statement then?" Tang gestured to the boy's patchwork clothing.

Pigsy hit the scholar on the elbow for the offhanded inquiry but the child didn't seem bothered. "It actually is. You see I make all my stuff from mostly scraps rather than fresh materials. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' type of ideology. Also recycles a lot of stuff people throw away that can still be used." MK flashed them a big toothy smile alongside his explanation.

Both men hummed at the answer. Like any big city, Megapolis had an issue with littering so the place was practically a gold mine for crafty people such as the kid. "Let me take your guys' order, and MK… you don't have to come by so late all the time. Come whenever you can and if anyone gives you a problem then I'll handle it."

Pigsy could only smile at the ecstatic look in the kid's eyes before the child ran over to both men. After that particular night, MK began visiting sometimes around mid day. On occasion, the boy would bring some of the crafts that he made.

Beautiful red ribbons decorated with gold dragons, a jade green cheongsam that held a silver depiction of a nine tailed fox, some plushies consisting of a gray rat with a heart in its paws, an ornate doll that wore a beautiful crimson Chinese dress and a white rabbit with a mallet used to make moon cakes.

Every piece was extremely well made alongside a story that MK would share with Pigsy or Tang. The rat plush beared the story of a fallen rat who was given a chance to relive their last day, the ribbons were of two dragons that strive to be with each other for eternity, and cheongsam was for a prince who escaped the life of royalty to live with a earnest farmhand that won his heart.

It only made both adults wonder how a talented kind child like MK ended up living on the streets by their lonesome. On a warm summer night, Pigsy was cleaning the front of the shop. The little boy wanted to help out around the restaurant so the demon let him wash the dirty dishes. Tang was also in the shop regalling a particular urban legend around Megapolis: the Broken Toy Phantom.

"-the Broken Toy Phantom must be a type of poltergeist. A very rare occurrence that poltergeists would roam with their haunted possession but the information all leads up. I even speculate that the phantom could have been brought to life after the Great Megapolis Raceway Disaster." Pigsy kept quiet while cleaning the tables but listened to the scholar's theory tangent.

The restaurant door suddenly opened with a loud slam, the restaurant owner turned around to be met with a gun aimed at his head. Pigsy didn't have to look to know that Tang had his hands up in the air since the scholar was now silent. Of course the pig demon needed a robbery once in his life.

From the looks of it, there were only three armed robbers with two being men and one woman. A white deer mask, black ski mask, and a turban paired alongside a thick bandana hid their identities. Right now Pigsy was praying to Guanyin that they don't find MK.

The kid wouldn't be able to survive a bullet should these bastards get trigger happy. "Alright, you two fuckers better listen to our demands right now. Give us everything you own and Porky here can open the register." Spoke the deer masked robber, poking the barrel of the gun to the restaurant owner's back.

Reluctantly Pigsy walked over to the register and took out the key. He was about to open up when… BANG! Horrified blue eyes watched as Tang fell to his knees, blood pouring from a bullet hole in his leg. The pig demon saw Tang's phone on the ground before the turban wearing robber stomped it to pieces.

"Call for help again then the next shot will go through your head, Four Eyes." Spoke the black ski mask who cocked his gun to reinforce the threat. Pigsy wanted to run over to Tang, treat his wound or help him up. However, he couldn't unless both of them were looking to get shot.

And the two hostages felt their hearts drop upon one single sound. "Excuse me." Standing on top of the bar table was little MK. Strangely, Guarn wasn't in the kid's hands as both were crossed against his chest. A large frown and judging chocolate eyes of the unnaturally calm child were aimed at the three robbers.

"What are you doing to Mr Tang and Mr Pigsy?" MK's once kind lively voice was now dead and cold like a grave. Neither the scholar or restaurant owner couldn't help feeling unnerved at the sudden change in the kid. It felt so wrong. Something that none of the robbers had noticed.

"It's a robbery little dipshit!" A haunting laugh came out of the kid, MK's eyes were alight in a twisted glee paired alongside a malevolent smile presenting unnaturally sharp teeth. "I know what a robbery is, you sad excuse of human scum. What I'm asking is why none of you haven't left yet?"

All three of the criminals were caught off guard by the little boy's taunt. None of them felt the child's ominous aura unlike Pigsy and Tang. What stood before them wasn't the same little boy that they've gotten to know over the past two months.

This was Death in the form of a 10 year old kid. "You barely have any mercy from me after this whore shot my friend in the leg. Lucky you that I was in a good mood, leave now or suffer the consequences. Know that you only have one chance between all three of ya cowardly worms!"

Offended by MK's threat, one of the robbers, the turban-wearing woman, aimed her weapon at the child. "Say goodnight brat! You have no power over us! That petty threat will be your last!" Finger on the trigger as she was ready to shoot the boy.

MK, still unfazed, shook his head almost if he was disappointed at the woman's choice. Then his smile grew so wide that it nearly tore the sides of his mouth, an insane look burned in now orangish brown orbs. "I warned ya. Davy Jones." With no warning, two long violet tentacles shot out from the darkness behind MK.

Both appendages wrapped around the woman and the man who shot Tang as the third deer mask robber watched in growing horror at what stood before them. Standing behind the 10 year old with two of the robbers wrapped in thick violet tentacles was a giant 15 ft violet plush squid.

It's squid capped head had four of those cap ridges with red stripes but also three mini tomahawk blades on the center top, black squid eyes that positioned on the sides of the mouth which held sharp teeth and a pair of glowing magenta eyes within the darkness, six small light cyan underside violet tentacle bearing some tomahawk blades, and two triple sized tentacles that had a black armband bearing a white skull n bones on the larger right.

"YARRRG! Those who dare trifle with Captain MK shall face the blades of Davy Jones!" A gruff, lightly deep, and growlish male voice ripped the monstrous toy's open mouth. Both caught robbers let out a strangled cry from the tentacles tightening their grip.

Immediately the remaining robber quickly went to shoot the monster plush or MK only for his weapon to be snatched from his hand's grip. Deer mask slowly looked down at the floor to see his gun in the paws of a particular bug eyed Monkey King plush.

Tang, Pigsy and the robbers saw a pair of glowing red eyes stare at them from within the small toy's mouth. Guarn then bit into the barrel of the weapon, felt teeth easily tearing through the metal and plastic like a hot knife against butter.

The immense shock nearly made the scholar and restaurant owner almost miss MK delivering a jump kick to the deer masked robber. Enough strength behind the blow to not only shatter the robber's mask but knock em fully unconscious. Davy Jones tightened his grip further until the two snared robbers fell limp like their comrade.

Pigsy immediately ran over to Tang once knowing they were now safe. The little boy followed suit, his ominous aura gone while the large plush kraken harshly dropped the two robbers. "Mr Tang, please bite on this while I get the bullet out." MK handed the raven a red plush oven cloth.

Pigsy had to put the rag in the scholar's mouth as he was too busy staring in shock at MK's fingers. The index and ring fingers of the boy's hands were torn apart by black claws growing from inside. Tang let out a harsh muffled scream when those sharp obsidian claws dug into the wound.

After a few seconds, MK pulled out the bloody bullet. He dropped it to the ground so he could pull out a sewing kit and needle. "I'm guessing you're the Broken Toy Phantom." Pigsy spoke for Tang while the boy began to sew the wound close. The little brunette merely nodded as he thread the needle through the scholar's leg.

"Yep! Although I'm not really a poltergeist, just a newly minted toy demon. Didn't think I had to bring out any of my Frightfur family so soon. Honestly, I hope that I had more time to figure out how to introduce you guys." MK tore the thread off the needle once it was sewn tightly.

Neither adult said a word since the kid did have a point. A giant plush kraken bearing razor sharp teeth and tentacles that ended with large tomahawks wasn't exactly friendly looking. Or the implications that MK had more than one of these peculiar beings.

Both men's thoughts on the subject were derailed in surprise when the sewed up bullet wound shrunk until unmarred skin was left. "Healing Suture Thread, perfect for minor to serious injuries. It works on humans too rather than just Frightfurs, Fluffals or Edge Imps." The little boy turned to see Davy Jones finish tying up the three attempted robbers.

Guarn waddled over to the brunette, climbing up the kid's clothes then situated itself on MK's shoulder. Tang took the rag out of his mouth and suddenly hugged the toy demon much to the latter's surprise. "We're just glad you're okay. You gave us both a heart attack back there with that stunt."

Davy Jones let out a hearty laugh from the flustered look on his smaller companion's face. Pigsy couldn't help the chuckle that came out of his throat to the little boy's further surprise. Soon enough, MK found himself laughing with them as he hugged the scholar back.

If this was a dream, then he didn't want to wake up. Moments like this should last as long as they can.

And that's it! MK has officially met Pigsy and Tang. I can say that the MK you are seeing at the moment...is more than he seems to be. Something that will be looked over in the next chapter.

Tang and Pigsy are going to take more fatherly roles involving our newly minted toy demon. A factor being MK's age and situation when they first met.

MK will be 21 when I get into the LMK series and there will be changes to particular episodes or plot pilots. Any major changes will have the episode title be replaced with a song.

Now people have been wondering MK's actual age in canon out of general curiosity and a certain pairing called Peachnoodles for certain artists and writers have been frowned upon. The driving law in China requires the person to be 19 in order to legally drive, so MK has to be 19 or a bit older in canon.

I hope this clears stuff up for ya curious folk.

The song used for this chapter is 'Bleed, I must be Dreaming' by Evanescence. Actually thought of using Evanescence's Imaginary but this felt more suited.

Will be going over the remaining Fluffals before we reach the next chapter for Broken Toys! Stove Novas next chapter is in the review stage so be on the lookout for that next! I'll see you guys back at Megapolis.

Song used👇

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Incompatible Intentions

Chapter Two

A/N: This is a Sokka x female!reader and Zuko x female!reader. This is one of my first stories so please enjoy. Also, Y/N is 10 years old in this chapter, making Zuko, Sokka, Azula and Katara 11, 10, 9 and 9 respectively. The year is 94AG.

Can be read on both A03 and Wattpad (same username)

WARNING: mention of a dead body, somewhat hand to hand combat

Also sorry for any spelling mistakes or typing errors. I have proofread this, but sometimes it just skips over my head. 

Status: IN PROGRESS

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Y/N- your name

Y/F/N- your father’s name

Y/L/N- your last name

If you’re on Chrome, you can use this extension to personalise your names.

WC: 3.8K

It had been weeks since Y/N had last seen Azula or Zuko. Summer break was over and school was back in session at the Royal Fire Academy. 

Despite her numerous pleas to her father, Y/N wasn't allowed to join the rest of her classmates back in school.  

Why he had decided to do this; she was unsure. Her father had always seemed to be a patriotic man, proud of the Fire Nation and what it stood for. Recently, however, he seemed different. She even attempted to convince him to let her join him at work. But again, he refused.

Y/N was never one to question her father and mother when it came to most things. She would always listen and do what she was told. But once her father had prevented her from seeing her friends; she wholeheartedly disagreed.

Of course, she didn't do anything drastic for a while. She listened patiently to him- hoping that he had a reason for all of this.

During the first week, she took the opportunity of her confinement to practise her firebending. During her first month, she hung out more in her room, trying to learn traditional Fire Nation Dances. And by the third month, all of her motivation had vanished: she preferred to lay in her bed the entire day.

But on the first day of the fourth month, Y/N had decided enough was enough. And now, she was getting dressed. She changed into her school uniform, readying herself to sneak out and finally go to school. It had been almost five months since she had last seen her friends and she couldn't be happier to hug them again.

It was hard to deny that Y/N missed her friends extremely. Not seeing them for so long left her feeling less than perfect. But every time she missed them, she would look down at her wrist, remembering the meaning of the jewellery that she wore: that no matter where they went; no matter how far apart they'd be from one another; they'd always be best friends. It had been almost a year since that day she thought as she solemnly began to wonder: why hadn't they visited her?

Y/N and Zuko had been friends for just over a year; spending every moment together. Well, that was before her father had isolated her from the rest of the nation for 'whatever reason.'

Unbeknownst to her, her father hadn't agreed with many of the Fire Lord's more recent plans and policies; and instead of allowing his daughter to be surrounded by such ideologies, he chose to shield her from them. 

Fire Azulon had plans to raid the Southern Water Tribe, and capture every waterbender there was. The Fire Lord believed this to be the easiest way of reaching Fire Nation supremacy; by destroying all other benders of the elements. 

Of course, his plan started long ago with the murder of the Air Nomads- ensuring the permanent destruction of the Avatar. As the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe proved more difficult to conquer, the Fire Lord believed that the Southern Water Tribe was the next easiest target.

Admiral Y/L/N disagreed strongly with these new plans, arguing that this was genocide. It came to no surprise that these newer, more invasive plans were courtesy of Fire Prince Ozai; his plans for the Fire Nation always seemed more intense than the rest of the Royals.  Of course, Fire Lord Azulon agree with his son and dismissed the Admiral's concern. 

And even though the Admiral may not have been able to say it aloud, an old family friend lived in the Southern Water Tribe; an old friend whom he didn't wish any harm upon.

Chief Hakoda and Admiral Y/L/N had met when they were children. Their grandfathers' long-lasting friendship transcending generations. Admiral Y/L/N would recall his grandfather telling him stories of a pre-war world of peace and prosperity. Their friendship began during the reign of Fire Lord Sozin, both Y/F/N's and Hakoda's grandfathers had been best friends. When the two had children, it was only natural for their kids to meet and become friends. And that happened, for a while.

 And then the Hundred-year war began, and the two friends saw each other less and less; consequently, as did their children. But as the kids grew up and began to reminisce fondly on the memories of one another; they found ways to communicate. And it wasn't long before Hakoda's and Y/F/N's fathers introduced them to one another. The two adults would converse as their children would play, momentarily forgetting the chaos of the conflict that separated their two nations. And as they aged, it became rare for the two to talk: the unwavering concern that the Admiral would be found and killed for treason due to their friendship remained ever-present.

Not too long after the Admiral's objection, the Fire Nation began preparing for their raiding of the Southern Water Tribe: The Admiral continued to advise against the plot that Prince Ozai had put in place, but it was too late.

-------

Y/N was in a different year group to Zuko and Azula and therefore were in separate classes. She wouldn't be able to see them until lunch. Annoyingly, her classes dragged, and as she waited for the lessons to end- she often found herself staring at the clock, hoping it would make time go by faster.

Despite the excitement she had felt for the better part of two hours, Y/N soon began to grow worried at the thought of seeing her friends again.  

What if the reason they never visited her was that they didn't care about her? What if they didn't want to be her friend anymore? 

Y/N's mind filled with troubled thoughts and she soon began to dread seeing her friends, debating whether or not she should go home.

Why would she think that they cared about her if they never visited her? They probably forgot all about her by now. There was no use in her being there. She should probably go home...

After her class had finished, Y/N slowly made her way to the courtyard, scared to see Zuko and Azula again. She sat down on a bench and pulled out her favourite book; figuring she needed a distraction. It wasn't long before the yard had filled up: occupied by running children playing with one another. 

A few minutes had passed when the sound of her classmates gasping and shouting snapped her out of her trance. A concerned look brushing over her features as she stood up, intrigued by whatever was going on. A crowd of children had rushed around two boys; Y/N recognised one of them immediately. 

 Zuko. 

Instantly, she rushed over and joined the others in the crowd. Her heart pumped rapidly inside her chest as she tried to make sense of what was going on. Zuko had a bruised lip, his knuckles appeared swollen; he seemed disorientated. Y/N had to hold herself back as she watched from the shadows. She couldn't get involved. Her parents would be called then she'd be caught, not to mention that Zuko maybe didn't even want her help.

Similarly, the boy Zuko had been fighting looked just as badly injured. Y/N struggled to recognise him until she realised she had seen him before. He was a boy from her history class.

His left eye swollen, much like Zuko's knuckles. His eyebrow had a cut and a bruised had formed on his left leg. Y/N slowly walked closer as she tried to get a better view of the fight. Zuko had knocked the boy to the floor, turning his back to him and walking away.

"You're not worth it," Zuko mocked.

People soon began to lose interest walked away. But Y/N stayed; this felt too easy.

The boy swiftly brought himself up off of the floor, steam blowing from his ears, and spread his legs apart in a fighting stance; taking a deep breath. Y/N gasped quietly, instantly realising what the boy was about to do. All of her responsibilities quickly dismissed as she ran to tackle the boy to the ground.

With full force she landed on him, stopping the lightning bolt he was about to shoot at an unsuspecting Zuko. The lightning shot past his arm barely missing him. The crackling of the electricity made the young prince turn around briskly, a panicked look on his face. His eyes landed on Y/N, as her body held down the boy who he had moments ago pushed to the ground.  Instinctively, Zuko ran towards Y/N. 

"Y/N what the hell was that?" he asked his worry rapidly turning into anger, at the realisation of what his friend had done, " Why did you do that? He could've hurt you!"

"Yeah well, he was about to shoot lightning at you." she retorted, picking herself up off of the ground. "I'm sorry for trying to protect you." She stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I don't need your help." his words coming off harshly through gritted teeth.

They were more severe than he'd first meant them to be, his face dropping in realisation. Y/N's anger had faded at Zuko's cruel words and she quickly turned away, starting to speed walk back to her bench. Zuko swiftly ran after her. 

"Look Y/N I'm sorry, I didn't mean it."

She scoffed at his words as she quickly picked up her book, shoving it in her bag, refusing to look him in the eye. 

"I was just worried about you. And seeing you on the floor after you tried to save me, well I. I didn't mean it. " 

"You sure sounded like you meant it when you said it a minute ago Zuko." she spat back, her anger and betrayal seething through her words. 

"Y/N, please," he begged once more, but she refused to look up at him. Giving up on trying to reason with her, Zuko instead opted to question her. 

"Where have you been these past four months?" his voice laced with concern. 

She took a moment to process, almost as if she couldn't believe what she had heard, "Maybe if you'd bothered to come to find me, you wouldn't be asking that question." Y/N's pain evident as she placed her bag on her shoulder aggressively, before staring Zuko directly in the eyes.

It clicked. 

Zuko suddenly realised why she had refused to look at him the entire time they'd talked. It wasn't until that moment that he finally saw the betrayal she hid behind her beautiful  E/C eyes. The hurt and anguish she felt by being abandoned by her best friend.

She looked away from him for a second, catching the eyes of everyone that had been staring at them. Briefly, she made eye contact with Azula, seeing her beside two girls, she recognised one of them as Mai, her partner in music class.

Y/N hadn't realised that they had attracted this much attention. Rapidly, she looked to the ground, then back at Zuko.

 "I'm leaving."

As she turned away, Zuko intrinsically grabbed onto her wrist. For a short moment, she looked back at him, the tears that had welled up in her eye threatening to escape, before she snapped her wrist away from him and walked home. 

This was a mistake.

---------

Arriving home, Y/N slowly walked into the house, carefully and quietly in case someone was inside. She quietly tiptoed towards her bedroom and closed the door behind her; a sigh of relief escaping her lips. 

Effortlessly, she got changed into her nightgown before throwing herself on her bed. The cool of the sheets finally grounding her and she began to forget all the problems today had brought with it. She snuggled tightly into the sheets and closed her eyes; a little nap wouldn't hurt.

Abruptly, Y/N opened her eyes. Her heart was beating rapidly as she heard the distant voices of her parents. Seemingly, they were having a conversation about something and had seemed to be doing so for a while.

Y/N rubbed her eyes gently before getting discreetly out of bed. She walked to her door and turned the handle slowly, leaving the door with a slight crack in it so she could hear what was going on. 

Despite the open door, she couldn't hear what her parents were talking about any better; they had finally quieted down and were now speaking in hushed murmurs. Y/N immediately became more intrigued as she tried to open her door further to hear what was going on. But the door creaked. 

Agonisingly, Y/N looked up and made eye contact with her parents. 

Dammit.

"Ma' what's going on?" she asked, her concern quickly turning into panic at the sight of her mother. Had she been crying?  

"Y/N sweetie it's ok. Everything's going to be ok." she rushed to her daughter's side and enveloped her in a tight hug, " I promise you it's all going to be ok."

 Y/N was remarkably confused. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lips pursed.

"Ma' please what's happening?"  she looked into he mother's eyes, examining her, hoping she could find out more.

"Y/N, baby, can you go to your room and pack some stuff quickly; only the absolute essentials, ok?" she looked at her daughter to make sure she understood. 

Y/n nodded, walking back into her room she glanced at her father who had now sat down at his desk: was he writing a letter?

--------

It had been nine days since that night. Y/N's parents had refused to tell her what was going on, but she was a smart kid. It didn't take long for her to realise what had happened. 

What she had yet to figure out was why it had happened; why had they been banished from the Fire Nation? Her mind would often wander back to that day, questioning if it was her fault. Strenuously, she would think back to that night as she desperately tried to remember if she had heard anything that her parents had said: but nothing ever came to mind.

It was a long and tiresome journey, which Y/N had slept for the majority of. She remembers walking a lot and being on a couple of boats, yet nothing stood out to her. It was almost as if she went numb in the following days. Her mind refusing to believe what was happening, yet her body happily obliging to her father's orders: following him wherever he went. 

They first travelled to the Crescent Island, the closest land of Fire Nation territory to the Earth Kingdom. From there, they travelled south towards the Chin Village. And there they met him: Hakoda. He was taller than Y/N first imagined. But then again, everyone is when you are a nine-year-old child. Hakoda had arrived on a small boat, accompanied by other members of his village, and soon they began their journey home.

Upon their arrival, the Admiral and his family weren't greeted with pleasantries: as expected. No one felt truly comfortable around the Fire Nation family, which was understandable.

 Despite Hakoda's pleas of reasoning, no one wanted to trust them-not completely anyway. This, surprisingly, applied to Hakoda's children. Despite their similarity in ages, and the long-standing friendship between the two families. Y/N found it hard to bond with Sokka and Katara. 

As their parents would talk and gossip, Y/N would watch on as Sokka attempted to sword fight, and Katara tried to move a droplet of water from her bowl. Even though she too could bend, Y/N was scared to do so. Scared that if people in the village saw her abilities, they'd cower in fear more greatly than they already had. That they'd isolate her more strongly from the village- if that were even possible. So she held back.  She watched on gloomily as the two siblings would bond and play, and she'd be left staring blankly at the snow.  But she didn't blame them. Of course, she wouldn't. Why would she, when Zuko and Azula had done the same to her before?

--------

Six weeks had passed in the Southern Water tribe, and Y/N slowly started to feel at home again. Sure it wasn't as warm as her old home, but she found it to be more comforting- even if no one trusted her or her family. Rumours and whispers had started to spread: gossip from other neighbouring villages. 

The Fire Nation had arrived. 

Upon hearing the news, former Admiral Lee had snapped back into action and quickly dragged all of the abled men and women into one of the igloos, no doubt to prepare for battle. And even if no one had told her, Y/N knew too; she knew they were coming.

When the day finally arrived, all Y/N could do was hide. As her parents and the rest of the men left to defend their home,  Y/N hid away inside one of the farthest igloos.

 She remembers seeing her parents that morning, waving them an ecstatic 'Good Morning' before running off to play with the penguins. She didn't return until she heard Katara's shaky voice call out to her. 

In the past few weeks that Y/N  had been there, Katara never dared to talk to her; rarely ever even looking at her. But as she ran up to the young girl, Y/N could see the panic that was plastered on Katara's face. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong.

The two girls ran inside an igloo, as they hid with Sokka and their grandmother. Neither Y/N's parents nor Sokka and Katara's were anywhere in sight. Were they here? Had the Fire Nation arrived?

Desperately she tried to get answers from Kanna, but the old lady wouldn't budge. Only ever daring to speak to shush or comfort the children. 

Then it happened. Then Y/N heard the horn of a ship she never thought she would have to hear again. 

A Fire Nation warship.

Subconsciously, Y/N snuggled deeper into Kanna's arms as she tried to comfort herself. She didn't know why the Fire Nation could be here. What could they want? They had banished her family and they left without a fight. What more could they want? 

Impatient and worried, Y/N was the first to run out: Kanna's grip too weak to stop her unrelenting determination. She was going to find her parents. Sokka was next, following Y/N outside of the igloo as he ran towards a boomerang on the ground and picked it up. 

He wanted to help fight against the raiders. He was a man now- well, he sure thought he was. Highly improbable that a nine-year-old boy would be considered a man. Katara was next, slipping through her Gran-Gran's fingers and running outside into the cold air. Frightened, they all looked at one another as they saw the 'black snow' falling on them. 

Y/N  swiftly ran towards the front of the village as she tried franticly to search for her parents. Having two fire bending parents was always a great thing in Y/N's eyes. But now, now that they had to use that fire bending to fight against their home nation? Now, she wasn't so sure.

She briefly saw Katara run in the opposite direction, in search of her mother, no doubt. Sokka, though, was right behind her- boomerang in hand- ready to fight. 

It wasn't long before she saw her mother. Her ferocious and powerful nature present as she took down Fire Nation soldier after Fire Nation soldier. A proud smile grew on Y/N's lips as she watched her mother take down men twice her size. She had always hoped that one day she'd be as skilled as her.

However, her smile quickly vanished when she saw the tears that had begun to cascade down her mother's eyes; the liquid covering her rosy cheeks.

Y/N abruptly looked in the direction that her mother had not pried her eyes away from; praying she wouldn't see what she thought she would. 

But she did. 

A distraught whimper left Y/N's lips as she stared at two Fire Nation soldiers, carrying her father's limp body onto the ship.  

As she watched the horrifying image play out in front of her, Y/N found it hard to breathe. Her voice stuck inside of her chest as she tried to talk, to scream, to have any sort of reaction. But she couldn't. 

Hearing Y/N's cry, Sokka looked away from the group of warriors he was studying and glanced at her. 

His body tensed as he saw a single tear drip down the side of her cheek.  Following her line of sight, Sokka saw two men boarding a ship with her father's body in their arms. Startled and anxious: he watched as Y/N cried silently, gawking at the ship her father had just been taken to. 

He could be alive he thought. He could be alive and only unconscious. They could bring him back. He could be okay. But even he knew that that would be wishful thinking.

It wasn't until Y/N heard a thud on the ground that she finally ripped her eyes away from her father. 

Her mother was on her knees, arms behind her head as soldiers cuffed her arms. Y/N looked towards her confused, staring at her for an answer. Then it clicked.

She was surrendering.

 Her mother- the most stubborn person she knew, one of the most powerful firebenders in the Nation - was surrendering, and she couldn't do a thing about it. 

But she had to do something. She had to go in and help. She had to save them. It was unachievable, that she knew. But she had to try. She couldn't just-

Her thoughts were interrupted as she saw her mother be moved. She was pushed forcefully onto the cold metal of the ship,  spitting disgustedly at one of the soldiers. Then, he reacted the only way he knew how- a bright orange flame scorched her mother's skin as she screamed in pain. 

The sparkle in her mother's eyes was slowly dying, and as she looked up and at her daughter, they shared a moment of adoration.

 They looked at each other for a little while longer until her mother mouthed a final 'I love you' and 'I'm sorry' before being dragged away deeper inside the hull of the ship.

A gut-wrenching, uncontrollable scream escaped her lips as she watched her parents get taken away. The harrowing cry echoed from her chest as she dropped weakly to her knees. Sokka swiftly, dropping down beside her in an attempt to comfort her. 

He instinctively stroked her hair and shushed her as he tried to calm her. Long ago, he had given up on trying to fight. His father didn't need him: Y/N did. He brought her closer to him, laying her head on his shoulder- muffling her cries from the Fire Nation soldiers in an attempt to keep her hidden.

His eyes were glued on to her, his mind muddled with ideas on how to help her. If only he had looked up to see his mother get dragged away towards the same fate.

TAGLIST:

@iris-suoh

 @sokkaandzukosimp

 @kaylove12​ 

A/N: remember to like and share! It shows me you are enjoying the story :)

[deliriousgeek]

Javier Pena x Reader

All conversation here is Spanish, BUT for the sake of possible mistranslation I will keep the dialogue in English. 

Word Count: 2k+

Warnings: slight stalker dude, alcohol, blood, death (but not to main characters)

TBH the timeline is off but lets ignore that

Also if you wanna just skip the part with Javi, because I added some backstory, look for the bold star *

Masterlist

To say that Y/n’s day had been trying, would be an understatement. 

A group of rogue sicarios had attacked another marketplace in the morning, another warning sign to their former leader Pablo Escobar. The emergency medical clinic that Y/n worked at had taken in the gunshot victims that the main hospital wouldn’t be able to save. If the patient would survive the wound, they were taken and treated at the hospital. If the patient was nearing death, they were sent to the clinic. The worst part of it all was that the victims didn’t know they were dying. The nurses and doctors had tried to make each patient as comfortable as possible, and it was only because they knew that the patient would die. 

After a gruelling fourteen hour day that began at six in the morning, Y/n began walking to her part of the nurses’ station. She had finished attending to her last patient ten minutes ago, now she stood above a trash can as she peeled the now bloodied latex gloves off her hands. Ten minutes. A lot can be done in ten minutes. One can make a phone call to their loved one, make a purchase at the store, listen to a song or two, all in just 10 minutes. Yet Y/n had done none of those things in the last 10 minutes. In the past 10 minutes she had entered a janitor’s closet, locked the door, sat on an empty bucket, and cried. She cried and cried until the pain of unbearable loss was now an empty pit in her chest. 

Ten minutes ago she had been holding the hand of a young boy. He was almost ten by the looks of it. He had been there at the market when the sicarios began opening fire on the civilians. Y/n hadn’t even known his name. All she knew, from what the barely conscious boy had said, was that his mom was counting on him to make money to take care of his siblings. That was all the information she had on this boy. By the time the paramedics had gotten to him, he had lost so much blood that all they could do was stop the bleeding in an effort to keep him out of shock. When they had finally gotten him situated at the clinic, it was too late to save him. He was one of the last patients brought in. They had used all their blood transfusions on previous victims to make them comfortable. All Y/n could do was sit by his side as he closed his eyes for what he didn’t know would be the last time. He asked to hold her hand. He said that Y/n reminded him of his mom, and he missed his mom. Sometimes, Y/n wished she couldn’t speak or understand Spanish. The little boy’s voice still rang clear in her ears. It was one of the most heart breaking, yet endearing things she’s ever heard a person say. 

“Tell mama I’ll be home soon. I just need to rest for a while.” 

Y/n scoffed bitterly. He thought he would go home to his mom, his siblings, his family. Instead he was gone. Another casualty made by the hands of the cartel. 

Y/n took in a deep breath. A new feeling of rage had overcome her grief. If those damn cartel leaders could see the death they bring, if they could see the amount of people affected by their actions, maybe they would stop. Y/n had seen at least a hundred patients come into the clinic door that day and the only way they went out was in a body bag. To the cartel, that boy was just another number, another statistic, another dead person; to Y/n he was more than that.

He was another soul added to the lives she could have saved. 

Weighing all these thoughts made Y/n’s head hurt, and the feeling of loss began to creep its way back into her chest. She needed to clock out, and leave; and so she did. Her way back home was quiet. She didn’t turn on the radio, nor did she hum that song that was constantly in her subconscious, she simply drove home with only the noise of the thoughts in her head. Once Y/n had gotten home she slammed the door behind her and headed straight to the bathroom. She let the water run and heat up as she picked out her pajamas for the night. After peeling off her scrubs, Y/n stepped towards the shower, but not before catching sight of herself in the mirror. That made her stop. She turned to her reflection and stared. She noticed her eye bags were darker than they were when she left in the morning. Her hair was in a low bun that had bits of her hair sticking out; a sign that she had been too busy comforting patients to care what her hair looked like, it just needed to be out of her face. Her skin looked dull and her lips were chapped, but the most unrecognizable feature Y/n saw was her own eyes. They stared back at her and showed nothing but a blank stare. Y/n chalked up these observations as effects of seeing so many people die, and knowing one could do nothing about it. Blinking, Y/n stepped away from the mirror and into the shower. The warm water did little to nothing to warm the cold hollow feeling in her chest. After drying herself off and changing in to clean clothes Y/n sat herself down on the couch. A defeated breath left her lips. Her apartment was quiet, too quiet even for an apartment in a low end neighborhood in Columbia. 

* She shook her head. A quiet environment is the perfect invitation to thoughts. Y/n didn’t want those right now. So instead of letting the quietness consume her she pulled herself off the couch and into an outfit for a night out. She wanted alcohol— no —needed alcohol to stop these dark thoughts from creeping back into her head. There was a bar near her apartment that she had yet to go to. Y/n decided she would go there. With her purse hanging over her shoulder and keys in hand, Y/n locked up her apartment and headed to the bar. The bar was a short enough distance that Y/n figured it would do her some good to walk there instead of drive. To some degree, she was right, the slight breeze had cooled her off and in turn helped blow away some of the tension she was feeling. Y/n entered the bar and made her way to the back of the room where she sat down on a stool in front of the bartender who was cleaning a glass. 

“What can I get for you ma’am?”

Y/n places her purse in her lap while resting an elbow on the counter, jutting out two fingers to rest her temple on. “A neat whiskey please.”

The bartender nods and begins to make her drink. She turns from the bartender to survey the rest of the bar. There’s plenty of people occupying the tables and booths that line the walls. There’s a group playing music on stage and it seems that their music is just loud enough to distract Y/n from her thoughts. The atmosphere is bustling and a little noisy; it’s just what Y/n needs. The bartender places her drink in front of her, taking Y/n out of her stare.

“Here you are ma’am.”

She nods, “Thank you.”

She nurses her drink for a while before there’s only a few sips left. She tanks it and hails the bartender over with a wave of her hand. 

“Guaro por favor.” Y/n speaks.

The bar tender nods as he takes her now finished glass of whiskey. 

Y/n places her head in her palm, her hair falls in front of her face. Looking up, she takes a long look at the bar goers around her and closes her eyes, listening to the soft trumpet of the band that is accompanied by strums of the guitar. Her face scrunches up as the memory of the young boy's face flashes across her mind. She forces her eyes open and dismisses the memory from her head. The bartender places the shot in front of her and she thanks him. Then downs the shot, the flavor and burning sensation coats her throat. She places the glass back on the counter before asking for another. The bartender eyes her, as if questioning if he should get her another drink or not, before taking her glass and providing her with another shot of clear liquid. Y/n places the glass to her lip before swinging her head back, effortlessly taking in the alcohol once more. 

This action catches the attention of another patreon of the bar. The way she carried herself screamed confidence, but her slight frown and pale face carried a dark emotion that couldn’t be described. She had just placed the glass of her second shot on the counter when Javier excused himself from his drinking buddies and made his way over to the bar. Truth be told, he had been watching her since she walked in the doors, and he wasn’t the only one who had taken interest in the lonely women taking shots alone. However, he was determined he would be the first to talk to her. Luckily the stool next to her wasn’t taken, so he sat himself down next to her. His arm propped himself up as he leaned on the counter, his body facing her. 

A charming smile worked it’s way onto his face. “Hola.” He spoke, testing if she spoke Spanish.

Y/n noticed the greeting and side glanced at him, wary. “Hola.” She replied.

“I’m a regular at this bar. I’ve never seen you here before.”

Y/n turned her head to look at him. He was a nicely dressed man. Dark hair, dark mustache, tan skin and a leather jacket to match his raspy voice. 

“It’s my first time here.” She dismisses his smile and looks forward. 

Just as his lips open are about to say something else, Y/n speaks again. 

“I’m not interested.” Her voice is quipped.

Javier’s eyebrows slightly lift and he is, albeit, a little bit stunned. His head cocks to the side and his lip quirks up into a stunned smile. Then he nods, lifting his hands up to signal surrender, before lowering them back down and leaning towards Y/n. “Well, then I’ll leave you to it, newcomer. But for the record, I also came over to tell you that the guy in the corner with the white cowboy hat on,” He nods to the back of the room near the stage. 

Y/n follows his gaze. Sure enough a man with a white cowboy hat on sits with his legs splayed out, angled towards them. He wears a long sleeve shirt and a leather vest, with cowboy boots to match. 

“Has been eyeing you for the past ten minutes,” Javier leans towards Y/n’s ear. “and he doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” With that, he stands up from the stool and heads back to the table with his buddies. 

Y/n is left slightly wide eyed, and now more cautious of the man staring at her from behind. Suddenly feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, Y/n asks for her check. She pays and leaves. The walk home is again, accompanied by a slight breeze, something Y/n is thankful for to cool off her now warmed skin. She walks in silence for a bit longer, listening to the nightlife of her town. Y/n relishes in the feeling of the alcohol in her system before listening to her surroundings once more. She can hear families eating dinner, friends partying, dogs barking, children playing under the street lights, but then a noise catches her off guard. She hears footsteps, heavy foot steps. Taking note of the area she’s in, it’s normally a fairly frequented place. To get to her apartment she has to walk through the town square, which, at this time of night is usually filled with some people, but not tonight. The only things keeping her company are the street lights, the slight buzz of alcohol starting to take effect and the approaching footsteps. A flight feeling of unease fills Y/n’s stomach as she remembers the man who was staring at her in the bar, and the words of warning from the leather jacket clad man, “He doesn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

Not wanting to take any chances, even if the footsteps are of a passer by, Y/n quickens her pace, only to hear that the person behind her quickens their pace as well. At the noise Y/n’s heartbeat quickens and she sobers up just enough to understand she could be in danger. She briskly walks down a road lined with houses before turning a corner, then another corner, then another. She’s straying off the path to home a little, but if it meant losing whoever could possibly be following her then it might be better. Y/n stops and waits, ear straining to listen around the corner for the same heavy footsteps. 

It’s quiet. Y/n lets out a breath relief, then, all too soon, the footsteps are back. However this time, they’re closer. 

Y/n’s eyes widen at the realization, she’s being followed and whoever it is knows where she is. Quickly looking around for anything she could possibly use as a weapon, Y/n spots some rocks on the ground. Her eyes flit to the rocks then to her purse, before she hastily gathers the rock in her purse and fastens the purse cover tight. Her breathing is quickens. The footsteps are closer maybe right around the corner. Y/n straightens herself against the wall of the building and holds her purse by the straps above her shoulder as she listens. She tries to slow her breaths and watches the bottom of the wall corner. The footsteps are louder, closer, right next to her. Then, as soon as she sees the tip of the person’s shoe peep around the corner, she swings. 

“Shit!” A raspy cry rings about as the shoe disappears around the corner once more. 

Y/n pulls herself from around the corner, bag still raised and ready to swing again as she takes in the scene in front of her. In the dim light she sees her pursuer stumbling backwards with two hands cradling his nose. She observes his clothes. She looks at his head, no cowboy hat. She looks at his torso, no leather vest. Then her eyes roam down his legs, no cowboy boots.

Instead of the ensemble she expected, Y/n is met with combed dark brown hair, a mustache, leather jacket and jeans. 

“What the hell was that for?” The man accusingly raises his voice, still hissing as he tries to nurse his nose. 

“Why the hell are you following me?” Y/n shoots back with the same tone. She hopes she left a bruise.

“Because that creep with the hat got up and left the bar after you did!” The man flails one arm behind him as if gesturing to another person as he covers his nose with the other. 

Y/n’s eyes widen. “Oh.” She realizes her mistake. Then she realizes the man has been holding his nose for too long for his injury to be a bruise. “Shit. I’m so sorry.” She lowers her bag and places it back across her body. “Let me look at your nose.”

She steps forward to help, then he steps back, holding out a hand. 

“Look lady, you’re the one that caused this. I don’t think I really trust you enough to not break it even further.” His delivery is terse. He doesn’t look at her when he speaks, eyes squinting in pain. 

Y/n rolls her eyes. “I’m a woman walking home alone at night, I think you can understand my reason for being defensive.”

When the only reply she gets from the man is a hiss as he tries to touch his nose, testing the injury, she speaks again, but this time a in a more gentle tone.

“And I’m a nurse. I won’t break your nose.”

Javier lets out a puff of a laugh, almost a scoff. “Pretty sure you just did.”

Y/n sighs at his stubbornness. “Look, if your nose is broken then you’re going to need immediate attention. If it’s not, then all you’ll need is an ice pack. Okay? So let me look at it and then we can be on our separate ways.”

Javier opens his eyes at this. He squints at her, then slowly nods. “Okay. Deal.”

“Good.” 

Y/n leads him back to the town square where there is better light. She makes him sit down on the fountain edge so she can observe his nose from above. Now that she has a better look at it, she takes in the bruises already starting to form. Her face scrunches and she feels guilt in her chest. 

“So? Is it broken or not?” Javier impatiently inquires.

Y/n only nods, feeling too guilty to retort with his attitude. “Unfortunately, yes. It is broken. You need some medical attention right away.”

Javier looks at her with a cocked head. “I’d say I’m getting some pretty good medical attention right now.” His eye brow lifts as a smirk appears on his face.

Y/n is startled at his brazen attempt at flirting, before her eyes narrow. “I broke your nose. I will not hesitate to break another body part of yours as well.”

Javier lets out a breathy chuckle. “Alright, alright. I’ll stop.”

Y/n nods before speaking. “The emergency clinic is still open. C’mon, I’ll take you.” She begins to walk away. 

Javier stands up and takes long strides to catch up with her. 

“Why are you trusting me?”

Y/n stops. “What?” She turns to him.

“Just a few minutes ago I was following you. Now you’re all of a sudden very comfortable with walking me to the clinic. How do you know I didn’t make up that whole thing about that creep following you out of the bar just so you wouldn’t suspect me of anything?” There is a teasing lilt to his voice. 

Without breaking eye contact, Y/n reaches down for her purse and holds it up so that Javier could see it. “I’m not trusting you. As a nurse I took an oath to heal those around me. However, that doesn’t mean I will hesitate to use this should you make me uncomfortable again. Is that clear?”

A playful smile makes its way onto Javier’s lips. “Crystal clear ma’am.”

Posted on 12/7/20

Part 2 at the clinic anybody?

Translations: 

sicarios: hired mercs/men of the cartel

guaros: Columbian nickname for a type of alcohol

[littlespaceporgs]

This.

Congrats on the follows! Could you write 15. “how much did you drink?” With kit Fisto? That tall drink of alien fish man would be so good at taking care of me while I try to confess my love and refuse drinking water

A/N: Pre-warning, this is fluffy as all shit, super tooth rotting, chest skipping fluff. Now, I’ve deliberately made the first half to read, as you are a lil bit drunk, so if you stick it out, you’ll get to the part that’s actually good, Hope you like!

Want to Request? See Here.

This.

Prompt: #15 - “How much did you drink?”

Word Count: ~1.8k (wow I was just gonna do a little drabble) Pairing: Kit Fisto x reader Description: A trip out with Aayla typically ends in some form of drunken shenanigans. This time it may have ended better.

Tags: @mcu-padawan​ and everyone I’m tagging in the comments because I posted this when everyone was asleep 😅

Through the cloudy haze of drunkenness, this all seemed quite fun.

It started with a successful mission out on the Outer Rim and returning home. Upon making it back to the temple, you very quickly discovered that Aayla and yourself were finally planet-side on Coruscant together for the first time in months. And then it was a short briefing with the council, and she was waiting outside your quarters. After a somewhat tearful totally unattached reunion, you both came to the decision to go out and celebrate still being alive and both of your recent victories. It all went down-hill from there.

What began as one drink out and then back to the temple, very quickly became four drinks here and then find a new bar. That’s how you found yourself stumbling back to the temple in each-other’s arms after the fourth place. Somewhere, behind the foggy recollection of the night, you idly thought about the regrets you’d likely have tomorrow. But that, as Anakin Skywalker would say, is future you’s problem.

A curse from the Twi-Lek next to you brought you from your musings. Lazily swivelling towards her, you sent a small wave of confusion through the force. The response she had was to look up at the temple stairs, look back to her feet, gesture angrily upwards, and curse once more. Snorting to yourself, you began pulling each other up the many stairs, giggling and nearly falling over every second step. After the first 10 minutes of only making it 15 steps, you both slumped to the floor. Leaning over each other, you pressed your backs to the step.

“Ah shit, Aayla, we’re not even haf-way yet, we’re never gonna make it!” She groaned and threw her head back.

“I know,” she dragged out the ‘o’ sound, “but we can’t sit here all night either.” Sighing in unison, you fell into an easy silence.

Oh wait! You could call Kit! He was always so nice, he probably wouldn’t mind coming to pick you up off the ground. He did so when you were injured, he would do the same when you’re drunk right? Aayla hummed.

“Good idea, I’ll comm him.” You felt a brush of confusion, ah, must have said that out loud. Reassuring your shields, you put your head on her shoulder while she typed in the number. Your feelings for Kit had always been there of course, and at this point, he’s seen you in more embarrassing situations than you care to admit. Despite this, you couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest and the churning in your stomach when you thought about him coming to get you. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen you drunk before, there was that time when you were Padawans and.. but you weren’t at the point of saying what you were thinking at the time.

“Aayla, is something wrong?” His voice rang out clear from her wrist.

“Yes – well no, not really,” She stopped for a second, and you could almost feel the confusion from the Nautolan. Gathering your voice, you tried to not slur as much as possible.

“Hi! Um – we went for a few drinks and now we can’t go up stairs.” There was silence again, before he snorted. Vaguely, you felt a ping of annoyance.

“Of course, and I suppose you want me to come and get you?” Without thinking, the two of you nodded, before Aayla noticed that he couldn’t hear nods and said yes.

The next thing you knew, he was kneeling on the step below you, holding his hand out to you. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Aayla steadily pushing herself off the ground. You grinned widely.

“Hey Kit! Where’ve you been? It’s been ages,” he only grinned back and pushed a small bottle of water into your hands.

“You only called me two minutes ago, my very drunk friend.” You chest stung very lightly, but you did not wipe the grin off your face. Wrapping one of his arms around your waist, he pulled you from the ground.

“How much did you drink?”

You shrugged with waved him off. “Not enough to deal with your sarcasm.” He snorted and shook his head, before directing a look at Aayla.

“Are you going to be ok to get yourself back to your quarters? I think this one is going to need some help,” Aayla turned her head, just enough to sneak a small smirk at you, before nodding and walking up the stairs, with perfect balance.

“Alright little one, let’s get you to bed, and please drink that,” he said, starting to move towards the sleeping quarters wing. You spared a confused glance at the bottle.

“But, but I don’t want to drink this? Oh wait! Kit, there’s something I gotta tell you!” His entire face smiled and he let out an airy laugh.

“Do you think you can wait until we get back to my quarters? Then, you can tell me all about it.” You nodded proudly. At the time, it hadn’t even registered that you were going to his quarters and not your own.

The next thing you remember was a very soft blanket that was covering the bottom half of you. If you turned to your left slightly, you could see the edge of the Coruscant starry sky. The palest moonlight streamed in and made shapes on the floor. It wasn’t until you sat up that you realised you weren’t actually in your room. This was Kit’s.

You could vaguely remember seeing him on the stairs, but you figured you must have just passed out not long after. Getting to your feet, you wondered out into the kitchen, where the light from the window was reflecting off his tentacles. He wasn’t wearing his robes now, just a plain pair of pants and a sleep shirt.

“Good to see you can actually walk.” Breathing heavily out of your nose, and mock-glared towards the Nautolan. When he spun back around, he was holding two cups of steaming tea. Idly, you noted that it smelt like the flowers you found on your home planet.

“Good to see you’re as jovial as ever.” He snorted and handed one cup to you. You both walked over to the spot near the window, and made yourselves comfortable on the floor, one knee pressed together, and one of your legs draped across his lap. Just like how you’d done so many nights before.

You watched the few speeders that were out at this hour fly past, and watched as the misty clouds seemed to become fluffy balls of light as the stars shone through. The steam from the tea warmed the tip of your nose, and you could feel your muscles relax as you sighed, smiling to yourself, staring out the window. With a passing breeze, you noticed that this was the most relaxed you’d felt since the war began.

You didn’t notice, but instead of watching the sky, Kit was watching the moon lighten you.

“So, I’m guessing you had a good night?” Moving your gaze to Kit, you noticed the loth-cat-like grin he wore. You snorted airily.

“I’m sure I did, it’s a little foggy for me though,” and it clicked, “wait is Aayla ok?”

“She’s fine, I commed her as soon as I brought you back here.” Sighing in relief, you nodded and fell into silence.

“Thanks, by the way, I would still be on the steps if it weren’t for you.” He laughed and gently nudged your knee.

“You’ve done it for me before, I was only evening it out! And don’t thank me yet, you’ve only slept for 15 minutes, you have yet to wake up with the true aftermath.” Groaning, you shoved him back, rewarding you with another laugh. When the laughter ceased, a comfortable silence fell again. You broke it once more, swallowing your fear.

“I mean it though, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you.” Your face felt suddenly all too warm, and you noticed all the spots your skin was pressed against his. Your right knee pressing into his thigh. Your left ankle against his stomach. When he opened his mouth to speak, you waved him off. “Seriously! You- you’re just, amazing, you know? If I had to be stranded on a planet with nothing else, you’re what I’d bring.” He snorted, but covered one of your hands with his. 

“I think I know what you mean.” This and the lopsided smile made your heart stop in your chest, and something in your abdomen lurched. More quiet, with the exception of the occasional speeder engine. Turning, you moved so your head was instead on his shoulder, and you became a tangle of legs and various parts in front of the window. After a second, he pressed a kiss on the top of your head. From where your head was, you could feel his heart beating faster.

You both knew what you meant. You didn’t need to say it. It was there however, the knowledge of each other’s feelings. It probably always had been. The hands on shoulders, the sides of your legs pressed together when sitting, the favourite teas, the same place to meditate in, the knowing what expressions meant, the knowing of how you were feeling, it was all this. Just, this.

Your eyes were beginning to drop now, and all the tension in your body was gone. You yawned as he pulled you closer. With one last piece of confidence, you asked.

“Can we please talk about this tomorrow? I’d say now but I have a feeling I’ll want to remember.” He laughed much gentler than before, so as to not move you too much.

“Yes… I think we should.”

BONUS:

You were no stranger to a hangover, nor a stranger to waking up in Kit’s room. Again. Brushing your forehead with your fingertips, you sighed contentedly. The sun was much brighter than it needed to be, but the warmth was a welcome you wouldn’t soon forget.

He appeared in the doorway, and with a voice just above a whisper, he said something like a good morning. You replied and looked at him, he was leaning on the frame, his arms loosely folded, and a very gentle smile on his face. He usually smiled like that when you were together. You noticed that he seemed almost nervous.

“Can we talk? About this?” he vaguely gestured at the space between the two of you. You heart skipped as you remembered the conversation from much earlier hours, and you patted the spot on the bed beside you. His shoulders dropped in relief, and he took the first half-a-step in your direction. You smiled, and gave a look that had always been reserved for him, and replied.

“Yeah, I think we should.”

[lancearcherinrippedjeans]

Eternity

**********

I know some of you are probably like "What happened to ICBTE bro?" It's in the fanfic cemetery never to be spoken of again <3

But WELCOME to the new multi part fic Eternity where we follow OC's Veronica Rodriguez, Sawyer Holden and Nova Jay throughout their AEW career

**********

Starring - Tony Khan, Kenny Omega, WARHORSE and of course, the OCs (also a small appearance from Madi Wrenkowski )

Word Count - 2,385

Category - Fluff, friendship, mentions of past romance

Part 1/?

Summary - Sawyer, Veronica and Nova wanted nothing more than to "make it". When they have a chance to main event with TK and Kenny Omega sitting front row, how will it go?

other author's notes - keep in mind, me and @adriii-omega wrote this in a day. there might be spelling mistakes, it might not make sense, trust the process <3 and YES a good portion of this is the ACTUAL match.

**********

“Yes Bullet Club is for life, but we’re Eternity.”

“Nova, Veronica, Sawyer you’re on in 10!” The producer yelled, knocking on the door of the dressing room. Though it wasn’t a dressing room, more like a closet. “We’ll be there in a second, damn!” Yelled Sawyer, trying to get her gear on in the tiny corner.

“It would be nice if they gave us an actual dressing room like the guys or something.” Veronica mumbled, pulling on her gear pants. Nova and Sawyer agreed. There could be thousands of dressing rooms, but they always got stuck in a janitor’s closet. “Could you imagine all three of us in our own private dressing rooms?” Nova fantasized as she tied her left boot.

The group of three had always had dreams, as small as a dressing room, to as big as being on the greatest stage of them all. But for now, a janitor’s closet, a couple bucks a night, and a high school gym would satisfy them.

“I got extra tips at the diner today so we can go out to eat after the show this time.” Sawyer announced, smiling towards Veronica, who had just told Sawyer about her craving for a milkshake earlier that day. “Oh thank God, the family I babysat for today only paid nine bucks for FIVE hours.” Nova complained, touching up her makeup.

“Nine?!” “Yeah, spoiled little white kids, AGAIN.”

Veronica and Sawyer chuckled, walking out the janitor’s closet, Nova following close behind.

The three friends had so much in common, but were so different. Like Sawyer for example, the tallest of the three and by far the smartest. She wasn’t afraid to take a bump in front of 10 people or 10,000. She would do whatever it took to make sure she ended up as one of the best professional wrestlers of all time.

Veronica, one of the sweetest people you’ll ever meet. Most people would call her a submission specialist, but making someone tap was just all in a day's work for her. She’ll do anything to put on the most entertaining match anyone in the crowd has ever seen, even if it’s acting like she almost died.

Nova however, was definitely a person who was ready to put on a show, taunts, hyping up the crowd and “OMG” moments were her specialty. She has gotten injured doing those special moves, many times, but she always got back up and showed out to put on the best performance.

All three of them had a purpose and decided they would stick together to reach it.

The whole roster was fond of how close they were. Others envied their success on the independent scene - except one of their closest friends, Warhorse. He was going to be on Dynamite tomorrow` to challenge Cody for his TNT Championship, but tonight, he was at the show, watching the trio wrestle.

They were walking closer to the “stage”, when he stopped them. “You will not believe who’s here!” Sawyer groaned, “Jake you know I hate guessing games so can you jus-”

“Tony Khan and Kenny Omega.” Their jaws dropped. “THE owner and EVP OF AEW?” Nova questioned. Veronica’s palms started to get sweaty. “Why are they here? I don’t even want to be here; there is no way the ACTUAL Kenny Omega and Tony Khan are sitting in a high school gym.” She wiped her hands on her pants and crossed them over her chest. “You don’t believe me? Well you guys will see in about an hour or so.” Warhorse smirked.

“We’re going out now, dipshit.” Sawyer insulted. Nova and Veronica laughed, but Warhorse had more to say, “Didn’t you hear? You guys have been bumped to the main event since the rich guys are out there.”

Suddenly calm, cool and collected Sawyer had her jaw to the floor. “Sawyer?” Nova whispered, shaking her friend's shoulder. “I can’t fly high and be energetic for the last 30 minutes of the show! I’ll break something or pass out!”

Veronica giggled at her friend’s nonsense, “You’ll be fine. C’mon, let's go watch the matches.”

Nova, Veronica and Sawyer sat by a monitor, watching the last few matches before their main event match. They were enjoying some of the two newer wrestlers face off when a hand slammed down on a table. They looked up and saw Madi Wrenkowski, fuming.

“They CUT my match so you guys could have your dumb main event.”

Sawyer held back laughter while Veronica spoke up, “Well it’s not our fault, we didn’t find out till five minutes ag-” “You think you’ll be big cause of a few matches? No way. Just stick to the janitor’s closet.” Madi scoffed, storming off.

“A few 5 star matches to be fair!” Nova called out, receiving a high five from her friends. It had been like this for a while, Madi going off on how she was “better”, but mean girls were SO high school.

They all took a deep breath, knowing it was their time to main event.

When the three reached the gorilla position. They saw Warhorse standing by the curtain waiting for them. Everyone was pretty happy that they got the opportunity to perform for someone like Kenny Omega, but deep down inside Veronica, Sawyer, and Nova knew that they deserved to be in the main event spot a long time ago.

“You three are going to kill it.” Warhorse smiled at his friends. He wondered how cool it would be to see them all in AEW at one time. “Thanks Jake.” Nova said. Sawyer was standing at the curtain, waiting for her cue.

“Say, bitch, I don’t wanna talk.”

Realer by Megan Thee Stallion blasted off the gym walls. The couple hundred of fans there jumped out of their seats to show their love for Sawyer, though she wasn’t supposed to be having such a loud reaction. She walked down the entrance way stopping at a young child who had their hand out for a high five. Sawyer went over to make it seem like she was about to, but smoothly pushed her hair back instead- flipping off the parents as well. As she got in the ring she took a quick scan to look for Kenny and Tony. She spotted them front and center in the front row she gave a sly smirk and went to one of the corners of the ring.

“TOOONIGHTTTTT-“

Nova shot out of the curtain while 24K Magic by Bruno Mars played in the gym. The crowd was also feeling the song as they got up and grooved. Even Tony Khan was bobbing his head along. Nova walked down to the ring, pep in her step. She gave people in the crowd high fives and hugs. She entered the ring and tried to get Sawyer to dance along, but backed away when Sawyer stood over her, glaring and clenching her fists. She walked over to her corner, climbing up to the second turnbuckle, waving at the whole crowd.

“I fly with the stars in the skies…”

Veronica pushed her black shades on as she smoothly walked through the curtain as “Moment 4 Life” by Nick Minaj came on the speakers. It was a perfect song to describe how she felt as she took the audience in at the top of the ramp. Her swagger was untouched but when she stepped in front of Kenny Omega, she felt his eyes never leave her which made her confidence blast through the roof. She used the stairs to get in and leaned on the ropes and waved to the other people that were there.

The three stared each other down, “this is awesome” chants from the crowd already starting. The ref asked all of them if they were ready, then called for the bell to ring. They all circled around the ring, the crowd wondering who was gonna hit first. Nova started taunting the two, planning to get the crowd on her side early in the match.

Sawyer had enough and tackled Nova to the ground, throwing punches, keeping away from the head. Veronica pulled Sawyer off, Sawyer widened her eyes, Veronica irish whipped Sawyer into the ropes, clotheslining her as soon as she came back. Veronica turned at the crowd, cheering along with them, not paying attention that Sawyer just did a kip-up behind her.

Veronica turned around just to be met with a kick to the face. Veronica turned around once, swaying side to side before falling to the ground, selling coming in clutch.

Nova came up from behind Sawyer, drop kicking her and making her fall to the mat. They planned to live to the phrase “fight forever”. Nova walked towards Veronica, dragging her up. Veronica started to gain her consciousness back, kicking Nova in the legs and Nova dodging as many as she could.

While they weren’t paying attention, Sawyer crawled towards the corner, climbing up the top rope, getting in position for a frog splash. It wasn’t till the crowd started screaming till Veronica and Nova looked towards the corner, Sawyer jumping off and crashing into both of them.

She stood up, hyping herself up, looking towards TK and Kenny, smirking.

*match skip*

Sawyer, Veronica, and Nova all struggled to get to their feet trying to use each other for balance. It had at least been 25 minutes of non stop action, and everyone was on the edge of their seat. Sawyer threw a punch in Veronica’s direction , but she attempted to counter it with an arm bar bringing her down to the mat. Nova saw the opportunity as she started to climb to one of the top turnbuckles. With Sawyer’s strength she manages to deliver a powerbomb to Veronica getting out of the arm bar. She crouched in the corner as Nova hit a devastating Macho Man like elbow drop.

1…

2…

But Sawyer broke up the pin by pulling Nova’s leg. Nova slapped Sawyer making Sawyer deliver a right hand back but harder, making her roll out the ring and on the apron. Veronica was slowly getting back up and Sawyer noticed as she charged towards her, making Veronica pull the top rope making her land on the outside. Veronica made her way to the apron where Nova was at; her back turned to Veronica not seeing her jump and wrap her legs around her neck for a reverse hurricanrana. With a loud thud, both of them rolled onto the floor in pain.

Sawyer crawled over , throwing Veronica in the ring and seeing Nova began to stir. Sawyer climbed to the top turnbuckle with her back turned to deliver a perfect moonsault, making the crowd gasp, and Tony and Kenny to stand up. Sawyer held her side, and rolled into the ring ready to finish the match. She stood in the ring, waiting for Veronica to get in position for her finishing move. Veronica stood and it was too late, and she tucked her chin ready for the impact of Sawyer’s devastating Canadian Destroyer.

1…

2…

3.

Sawyer stood up, referee raising her arm in the air. She tried to bite back her smile but simply couldn’t. She watched as Veronica and Nova started to walk backstage, exiting the ring, breaking out of character as soon as she was behind the curtain.

Veronica, Nova and Sawyer started talking about the match, complimenting each other. “Excuse me ladies?” They looked over, and saw Tony Khan and Kenny Omega walking towards them. Nova spun around and almost caused Sawyer and Veronica to fall over. “Really impressive match out there. You know I didn’t think you guys would have met my expectations but I was way wrong.” Kenny admitted, and Tony agreed. “Yea , we would really love for you guys to come over to our company for a bit. Not on Dynamite yet, but some Dark matches maybe?” Tony suggested. They were beyond excited. Sawyer started imagining all of the memories she could create at AEW, and seeing some people she hadn’t seen in a while - until a certain person popped into her head. “I would love to wrestle for you guys, but does Wardlow know? Or is he even okay with this- “ Veronica gave Sawyer the death stare and Nova let out a laugh. “Wardlow? He’s the one that brought you guys up. He said you were all really talented, and since we’re looking for more women wrestlers you were the right people. Is there something going on between…” “NO.” Sawyer interrupted Tony.

“It’s complicated. I just wanted to make sure he was okay with working with me again.” Nova couldn’t believe Sawyer’s actions and it was making it extremely hard not to burst out of laughter on the spot. Veronica stood in between her friends listening closely to what Khan was saying. She felt eyes on her so she looked up and was met with Kenny’s soft stare. He smiled and looked away making her do the same.

“Yea, so tomorrow I was thinking you guys could get to Jacksonville and see Dynamite, then wrestle after the show?” Tony said. “That works fine with us.” Nova said, smiling wide

“Great!” Kenny said, smiling at Veronica. “Sawyer, Veronica?”

Sawyer and Veronica looked at each other, they could tell what they both were thinking just by the looks on their face. Veronica nodded, Sawyer spoke up, “Let’s do this.” “That’s great, the flight leaves at 11 tonight, so get there as fast as you can,” Tony said, looking at his phone, “Oh and Sawyer?”

Sawyer looked up, “Don’t interrupt me again.”

Nova couldn’t keep in her laughter anymore, not even when Veronica punched her arm and told her to shush. Tony and Kenny left the building, leaving the friends beaming and damn near tears. “Veronica and Kenny sitting in a tree!” Nova and Sawyer started to sing, making Veronica roll her eyes, “Yeah I’ll remember that when we see Wardlow tomorrow.”

Sawyer huffed. “But remember we promised if things ever ended up like this, we would stay together no matter what happens between any of us.” Nova brought up, talking about the promise they all made years before.

“Friends, no matter what.” They all said in unison, knowing in the back of their heads they would be friends for eternity.

thank you for reading! part 2 coming soon!

[loverlele]

Oblivious

Spencer Reid x Bi!Female Reader

Warnings: bad language, a bit of sex talk

A/N: Happy pride month! I know there’s lots of evil things going on in the world at the moment so I wanted to bring a bit of happiness back, even if it is just for a few minutes. I have a Bi!Spencer Reid x Male Reader one shot (possibly a mini series) coming soon, as well as a Lesbian!Emily Prentiss one shot in the works.  Let me know if you want a part 2, possibly a smutty chapter? Who knows ;) anyways enough of my rambling, enjoy :)

Word count: 2023

“Hey good job today angel face” Morgan says from opposite me as I pack up my bags to head home. “Everyone’s going for drinks in a bit, fancy coming?”

“Since when have I ever said no to drinks with my favourite man?” I sarcastically shoot back.

“Well considering Reid hasn't asked you out for drinks, I can't comment on that one sunshine.” I pick up a piece of paper from my desk and throw it at him. Unfortunately I have a shit sense of aim, so it ended up going way to the right of Derek and hitting Emily square in the forehead. 

“Oops, sorry Em!” I say, skipping over to my best friend and kissing the spot it collided with her face at. Unable to contain her laughter anymore, she erratically waved her hands in front of her face to get to back off. I do, not before messing her hair up with my fingers.

“Uhhhh, what have I walked into?” comes a voice from my left. I spin round and see Spencer stood next to my desk with a puzzled expression on my face. I sheepishly smile at him, looking at Derek for help. 

“Y/N once again tried to hit me with a flying object, but her awful aim stopped that from happening and it hit Em instead” Derek laughed out. With a fake anger look on my face I kept on Derek and held him in a fake chokehold. I didn't think twice at how immature it might make me seem, but once I heard Spencer’s adorable laugh I knew I didn't need to second guess myself.

“Hey you adorable human being, get your own man” Garcia says as she walks up to the mess that has unravelled. I rub Derek’s head firmly before sliding off his shoulders, placing my feet firmly on the ground. Well, so I thought. As it seemed though, the earth hated me. As my feet made contact with the ground, my knees buckled and I fell backwards. A firm, but soft pair of hands caught me and helped me steady myself. I didn't need to turn around to look at who had caught me, I could recognise those hands from a mile away. 

“Thanks you” I muttered slowly pulling myself off him.

“No problem.”

Feeling the tensions rise in the air I turn my attention back to Garcia, who is now perching on Emily’s desk with a smirk on her face. That little shit, I mutter to myself. Thankfully, my comment wasn't heard by anyone. “For your information Pen, I don't need no man thank you. I am perfectly capable of making my own bad decisions without a helping hand.”

“Amen to that girl!” Emily calls out.

“What about a woman?” Derek asks as we collectively make our way to the lifts. We all manage to fit into one life and I press the button before leaning around Spencer to whack his arm.

“Bite me Derek Morgan.”

“I’m sure Emily would happily do that” he retorts, smirking. This time it was Emily’s turn to whack Derek’s arm. The sounds of bickering between Emily and Derek fill the elevator.

As we get get down to the car park the bickering stops and a wave of realisation hits me like a gust of wind. “Fuck” I mutter, pulling out my phone to see who could come get me.

“Hey, you okay?” a quiet voices comes from besides me.

“Jesus Christ Spence, you scared me!”

“Sorry I didn't mean to. Seriously, are you okay? I don't see your car” he says, quickly scanning the car park for signs of my car.

“My car’s in the garage getting its suspension fixed. I forgot to ask my roommate to pick me up from work tonight and now its 10pm and she's probably already out. Oh my god, how am I going to get home-”

“Hey it’s okay, we’ll go to yours to grab what you need before heading to the bar to meet the others. Come on, hop in” he says, opening the passenger side door before scooting round to the drivers side and getting in. It didn't take long for me to make up my mind, I mean it was either go with him or try to find my own way home AND then my way to the bar we were all set to meet at 11. I got in, shooting him a smile and we head off.

        - AT THE BAR -

“Hey! Finally you showed up, we were beginning to think you weren't coming” JJ says and we approach the booth.

“Don’t be silly, we don't do this very often anymore. I wouldn't miss it for the world” I say scooting into the booth, situating myself between Emily and Spencer. Oh great, this won't be awkward at all, I say to myself. Almost as if he'd read my mind (or, most likely, the awkwardness I was displaying) Spencer’s leg shifted slightly and met mine. I looked up at him slightly, yet his focus was on Morgan and debating on what alcohol would get them drunk the fastest.

After a few drinks everyone seems to have loosened up a bit. I mean, even Spencer was on his third drink of the night. The norm for this team is as the number of drinks consumed got higher, the more secrets (or “tea” as Penelope would sometimes put it) were revealed. And tonight proved no different that normal.

“Let’s do truth or drink guys!” Penelope half shouted. The bar we were at is one of our favourite ones to go to together and tonight was pretty loud in here. Meaning as the surroundings got louder, the louder we all became. Even though every single one of us groaned at the idea, we all knew better than to disagree with a tipsy Penelope. It started off relatively innocent and calm, until it got to Derek’s turn Derek, having been waiting for 10 minutes already, knew exactly what and who he wanted to ask. It was no surprise to me when he pointed at me.

“Little miss sunshine, ready for your question?”

“I was born ready baby, give it to me.”

“Do you have a preference of who you date?And if so, what is it.”

That fucker. Not a drinking session goes by that I don't get asked about my sexuality  I mean don't get me wrong, I love educating people and I love the sight on Derek’s face when I end up getting the number of a girl he’s expressed interest in. Taking a swig of my drink, I ponder on the question for a few moments before replying,

“I have a ‘type’ of women that I find myself automatically gravitating myself towards. I mean I guess I have a type of guy I like too. I don't know, I just go with what my heart says most of the time.”

“You still need to describe it sunshine” he says, smirking into his drink. It’s not as if we haven't had this discussion before, and by ‘we’ I mean Derek and myself. He knew what it was, he just wanted to see me suffer.

“I hate you” I groan, shuffling around to get comfortable before I answer Derek’s question. I take a big swig of my drink as I go to reply “red headed girls with a quick temper.”

“And the guys?” Spencer says, breaking his silence and looking at me.

“Brown mess hair, bit of a dork, goofy, tall, thinks Halloween is the best holiday of the year” I say, drawing my lips into a small smirk and taking another sip of my drink. Spencer doesn't even blink twice at my reply. Idiot.

Everyone’s questions seemed a lot tamer than mind. For example, JJ would be asked “what's the most romantic thing Will’s ever done for you?” and Derek’s would be “so you wish you had more freedom with your work hours?”. But mine, “craziest place you've had sex?” or “one person you'd happily let jump your bones right now?” (10 points if you guess who asked that one). After a few rounds I squeezed through the crowd and up to the bar for refills, and shots. I was under strict instructions to get at least 20 shots, no less. 

“Hey can I have the same again, but with 20 shots as well?” shooting the bar tender a smile and giving the name of the open tab.

“Sure things hun, what shots do you want?” she asks.

“Surprise me,” I say, not really knowing what to order. I feel a tap on my shoulder, alerting me that someone was behind me. I spin around to see the most gorgeous red head stood in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, the laughing was easing at the table and I could see the glances they were all giving in my direction. Great, an audience is just what I need. 

“Hey, so I hope I’m not over stepping by saying I think you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever seen here.”

“Hi, that’s so sweet of you! You are absolutely stunning yourself” I say, feeling 5 sets of eyes on me. 

“Um would it be possible for me to get your number?” she asks, tucking a piece of her hair behind her ear.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. It’s not that I don't find you ridiculously attractive, I um” I trail off slightly, glancing back and locking eyes with the messy haired brunette at my table. He flashes me a small, yet sad smile before turning his attention to JJ. “It wouldn't be fair to either of us if I did that because my hearts already with someone else.”

“It’s cool, I get it. Whoever they are is a lucky person” she says, smiling sweetly before turning and walking away. I turn back to the bar and grab the tray of drinks, slowly making my way back to the table. This time, when I reach the table, its quiet and all eyes are on me.

“What?” I ask, as I hand out the drinks and put the shots in a circe in the middle of the table. I scoot back into the booth, regaining my seat in between Spencer and Emily.

“Why did you turn her down?” Derek asks in disbelief, “in the 5 years I've known you I have never seen you turn down someone that quickly. Especially not a smoking hot red head like that!”

“You say that as if it's a crime Derek. I wasn't interested, I said no and we parted ways. End of conversation.”

“But why?” Spencer asks, “she’s exactly your type.”

“Yeah and so are you yet you're still an oblivious fuck” I mutter. Something in the air changed the second those words fell out of my mouth. I couldn't quite figure out if it was a good change or not.

“What was that Y/N?” Derek asks, smirking.

“What I said was not meant for your ears so shut it” I ramble looking over at Spencer, who’s still staring at me and seemingly in a world of his own. I try to study his face, looking for some kind of answer or reply to what I’d just said.

Sensing the obvious tension in the air Penelope did the best thing she could think of doing, shouting out the words “SHOT TIME EVERYONE!”. That seemed to do the trick as it knocked Spencer out of whatever alternate timeline he was in. He grabs 2 shots, placing one in front of you and keeping the other in his hand.

“To friendship” JJ said, raising her shot glass to the roof.

“To friendship!” the others yelled, clinking glasses and putting back the shots.

Spencer’s hand found its way to your thigh under the table, squeezing it tightly as he muttered, “to friendship.” downing the shot. His eyes locked on mine.

“To friendship” I say, pulling my lips to the glass with a smirk and downing it.  Hmm, maybe he's completely oblivious after all, I say to myself before locking hands with Spencer under the table.

[flyawayrachel]

Sometimes when I'm having a particularly hard day excepting my lot I go back and read this little thing I wrote a few months after leaving my family to remind me that I made the right decision. Idk why I am choosing to post this today but I've never posted it anywhere before. I've never been quiet about who I am and what I came from and sometimes it's nice to just get the feelings put there.

My whole life I had never been allowed to make decisions for myself, so why now, was it up to me to make the biggest decision of my life?

What school I could attend, what major I could study, what clothes I could wear, what teachers I could take, what jobs I could have, who I could speak to, who I could be friends with, what bank I used, what hair style I had, what nickname I could go by, what music I could listen to...all these things were policed since I was born, and the first decision I got to make solo was the most world defining decision I'll ever make.

Since then I've made a lot of decisions about myself, some little and some huge, but each one comes with a hill to climb. Through this series of decisions I've come to discover a little more about myself and who I am, a long painful process of deciding for myself.

The first decision.

It was a Sunday. I was expected to attend three morning protests and church at 11:30am, my father would be giving the weekly sermon. This Sunday, however, was different. For the first time in my life, I had a separate obligation. I chose, or tried to choose, to skip church that week.

This was not my first decision as it was reviewed by my parents and shut down.

It was 7am that Sunday morning, and I jumped out of bed, got dressed, and headed to work. I had discussed the days events with my parents two nights prior, today we had a fundraiser. A local family had just lost their daughter to brain cancer, and for once in my life I felt I had the power to do good, instead of spread hate. This was a huge deal to everyone there, and the community surrounding us. I was excited. As a new business, this would be great for us. We'd learn how to handle big crowds of people, we'd all bond over the stress of the situation, we'd have a great time, and we'd be doing good. I got to the restaurant around 7:45, and jumped into work. We had a LOT to do. I was anxious, I knew I was doing something I shouldn't...or at least something my parents don't approve of. It wasn't until 9:21 I heard from them

"Are you planning to miss church today?" My father text me.

"I'm planning to make it back, but if we get people in at 11, I probably won't be able to." I replied

"OK this doesn't really work for me. You aren't at a spot in life where this should be getting asked of you and this was supposedly made clear when you joined. If they cannot respect your need to be in the Lords house you need to find other employment. We need to talk about this"

Fear. Fear was all I could feel. I cried. Knowing exactly what "We need to talk about this meant" it wouldn't be a conversation with just me and him. Or me him and my mother, it would be everyone. Every adult member of our church would sit me down, accuse me of all manner of wrong doing, scream, yell, and refuse to acknowledge anything I said and brush it off as if I was a liar. A decision they had made for me when I was not even a teenager yet. At 11 years old I had been pegged as a liar and forced into seclusion by the church all because my mother, forgetful as ever, had forgotten a conversation I had with her a few weeks prior to it all coming to light. "If they're too scared to talk to me(referring to my older brother as I) then they can't speak to anyone" an aunt of mine had said, and her word was regarded as law at that point. Months of silence on my part followed. I became solemn and bitter after that. My social skills had been destroyed and I would never get over what they'd done to me. The happy little girl was gone, and in their eyes, she never existed. I was ridiculed for years because of this change in demeanor.

I received several phone calls from my parents that morning. I answered none of them. So my mother chimed in...it was 9:57:

"It is not ok for you to miss Church today. We need to have a serious discussion today about what's going on with you."

Again the threat of intervention.

I had to go home. My boss rolled his eyes, dispite his knowledge of my situation he couldn't help but be annoyed that his second hand was leaving, right before open, on what would be our busiest day ever. When I left, there was already a line at the door. I later learned they filled the restaurant within seven minutes of opening the doors. It didn't stop until we closed that night.

My dad gave the sermon that day. It was long. Nearly double the normal length of our weekly meeting. I couldn't tell you if it was purposefully, knowing him it probably wasn't, but that didn't help my view of the situation. Once church was over, I spead down the highway back to work, it was nearly 2pm by the time I got back. It was chaos. People everywhere, we were running out of things, and the dishwashers they'd pulled to prep just couldn't keep up. I was put in charge of running prep and we prepped and prepped and prepped. Ticket times were awful and I don't think we ever got out of the weeds, even now I feel the effects of that day on our staff. I remember at one point I was apologizing to one of our cooks, who we affectionately refer to as "Mom".

"I don't know if I can stay there any more" I'd said. For the first time in my life, I'd admitted to someone that I didn't see a future for me in the church. I'd been toiling with the feeling for years, but it wasn't until early February that I'd realized that I couldn't stay. "Get through school" I'd tell myself. With two years of school left, and my whole life crumbling, I knew I wouldn't last.

"If you need a place to go, I have a spare bedroom. You're welcome there" she replied.

I was floored. Being told your whole like that the world is against you, you learn to accept that, but this woman, this mother of three, had just offered to open her door to me, no questions asked.

We closed at 8.

Once it died down I sat at the bar with my chef. The foh manager behind the bar, pouring them both drinks. I can't tell you the exact words that were spoken, what, if any, words of encouragement were given to me, but while sitting there, I made my first decision. It was time to go. I remember thinking that I needed permission from someone, anyone, to do this, but it never came. My chef never told me I should, our foh manager never told me I should, no one told me to do it. I had to decide, and decide I did.

Once I got home late that night I told my sister. I didn't tell her I would leave immediately. I just told her I couldn't stay and she was always welcome to join me when she got older. I remember telling her there are other ways and places that we can serve the Lord without being subjected to the cruel glares and sneers of those around us. We had discussed often the wrong doings of the "Elders" of our church. I thought she'd understand and maybe she did, but she was hesitant. She was only a child after all, 13 years old, but had already been through hell and back with these people.

The next day I packed. I used the pretence that I was cleaning out my room and giving a bunch of my clothes to Goodwill, an instruction my father had given me a few days prior. This came only months after my mom had my siblings strip my room of much of my belongings and furniture while I was in class one evening. Many garbage bags full of clothes with other items hidden within made their way to the car. It was hard. Making the decision on what to keep and what to leave behind. I had collected many things from many different fan bases I considered myself a part of, while much had been taken from me I still had decisions to make. A lot got left behind. It was now Monday. I didn't work Mondays so I had all day to work. At 8pm we all sat down for our evening reading. I remember choking back tears realizing this would be the last time I sat in a room along side all six of my siblings and my parents in an amicable manner, still, the looming threat of these "talks" overtook me with fear. Once we were done and we'd said our evening prayer I went up to my room. I cried. I cried for the hurt I would do my dad, it was a common joke in the house that I was his favorite. His first little girl. The years I'd miss watching my baby brother grow up. The betrayal my sister would feel when she woke up the next morning. Knowing that in the following weeks every inkling of my existence would be stripped from the house, I still wonder what became of my old bedroom. Did my sister take it like she'd joked about when I would tell her I was dying from a migraine or dealing with a particularly hard day at work? Would my mom take it and use it as an office or spare bedroom for when my dad snored too loud as she often did when I would sleep over at my cousin Vicky's house?

My mom left the house at 4:30am. I was awake before she left. Silently selecting the last few items I would take with me. I wrote two notes. One of apology to my sister for leaving her here in a cave full of wolves. One to my dad, asking to be left alone and explaining that there had been irreparable damage done by other members of the church and that I did not believe their doctrine. I wrap my house key, pink and bedazzled with fake diamonds because my dad picked it out and never really got who I was back then, and copy of their credit card in it and stuck it in his cubby before walking out the door, tears still wet on the paper from when I wrote it. I only had one chance, as all windows and doors on our house sent chimes throughout the 10 bedroom, 6 bathroom, three kitchen home when opened. I got in my car, contemplated my decision one last time, and I left.

I sat at my job for hours alone, drinking ginger ale and eating sourdough bread. Wishing the nausea would go away. Not long after getting there I received a message from my dad. He would not ask me to come home, but extended the invitation to talk if I thought it would solve the problem and I could continue living under their rule. Reiterating the fact that they would not be changing for me. If I left I was going to be on my own. I spent the morning crying as I went about directing prep work for the week, we had a lot to recover from and my personal turmoil couldn't distract me from my work. Hours later my mom showed up. It was on the way home from the early morning yoga class she had taught, which is why she left the house so early. I couldn't recount the exact words said because I was to distracted by the way she was speaking to me. I was a stranger now. She's a lawyer and treated me like a client, taking notes as we spoke with no regard to my emotions or well being. She'd always counted the days to my 18th birthday, the only hope she'd rid me from her life forever. This was her chance.

The months following were hard. I had a lot of decisions to make and no one to guide me. The people who swore to make it easier only made it harder, but I bonded with the least expected people, some of which continue to be my greatest friends even to today. It was a decision that I don't regret, not even on the hardest days, the days I mourn the time lost with my loved ones and the very real possibility they'll never come back to me. The nights I sit up scrounging the internet for any glimpse into their current lives, or when I read people's"hot takes" about who they think they are, often getting it wrong and seeing my family as a one dimensional group of haters. I've made the decision to me myself and it's a decision I'll stand by until the day I die, eternity be damned.

[scope-dogg]

Long post about Mass Effect below

I noticed that there’s a big mass effect trilogy remaster coming out and it just made me think back on how badly the ball was dropped with that series. When the first game came out it immediately became perhaps my favourite game of all time, it was the kind of game where I was tearing up at the ending and then immediately started up a new playthrough the instant the credits got done rolling. The game was extremely jank and rough around the edges and it ran like total shit on the 360, but I loved it anyway because I fell in love with the lore of the universe, the characters and the story. It was one of those games where I’d play it in the most obsessively completionist manner possible, doing every singe sidequest possible, talking to every character on the ship after every mission, browsing the ingame codex for hours on end and dosing up on lore. When it was confirmed that Mass Effect 2 was in development I had such high hopes, of course I wanted to see the gameplay tightened up and the technical side of things improved, but more than that I just wanted to see more of the universe, get more of the universe to explore and learn more about it, and I was especially excited at the possibility that the choices I’d made, especially the massive ones in regards to the council at the end of ME1, would carry forward and really shake up the way the fate of the universe would pan out in the long term.

When the game finally came out, I enjoyed it, but it wasn’t really what I was hoping for. While the combat was much improved over ME1, I couldn’t help but feel like everything else was pared back too much - like, levelling and loot in ME1 weren’t all that well done but I was still really disappointed to see how they were all but stripped out in the sequel. I especially hated how crap sidequests on uncharted worlds were, they were basically just short combat sections with almost nothing in the way of meaningful dialogue or choices to make. Like, don’t get me wrong, uncharted worlds in ME1 felt like the maps were procedurally generated and the Mako had wacky controls, but they still managed to pull off the right atmosphere of going to these dangerous and remote places on alien worlds, and there was some legitimately intriguing stuff going on in some of those sidequests, and it was honestly a little infuriating to see all that basically get the axe entirely instead of getting some polish. I also just felt like the additions to the lore and story were disappointing. I was excited to find out about how society in the Terminus systems was different from Citadel space and meet some new alien races, but that didn’t really happen - I guess they tried with Omega, but that just felt like a mildly edgier version of the Citadel. The only new alien race aside from the Collectors they introduced were the Vorcha and I guess the Batarians if you didn’t play the DLC for ME1, but neither ended up being all that interesting. People remember ME2′s story fondly because of the characters, and I agree that the characters are great, Legion and Mordin especially stand out though all of your squadmates and major supporting characters on the ship are great (except maybe Jacob I guess) as are each of their accompanying stories that get resolved through their loyalty missions, but I think that the actual core plot of ME2 isn’t good at all. The whole thing about you dying and coming back to life seems like it was done just to have the excuse of having a timeskip happen, and I never felt particularly compelled by the Illusive Man or Cerberus as a faction - they were in a sidequest chain in ME1 technically but I still felt like they kind of came out of nowhere and never really fit into the grand scheme of things properly - there’s nothing that they really enable Shepard to do differently that wouldn’t have already been justified by you being a Spectre. The revelations about the Collectors and ultimately what they were doing with the colonists they were kidnapping felt really stupid and pointless apart from giving you an excuse to have a really cheesy and out-of-place final boss. The final mission was only exciting because of the tension of potentially losing one or more of your squadmates than because of what the actual consquences of failure for the galaxy were if you failed. There was no compelling antagonist to square off against like Saren in ME1, and ultimately the whole thing felt kind of pointless - it wasn’t until later after the trilogy was done that I realised that you could take ME2 out of the equation entirely and it wouldn’t make that much difference, but even in those moments as the credits were rolling after I beat the game for the first time, I was struggling to make up my mind about whether I’d actually enjoyed the game or not. I mean, it wasn’t like the game was bad or anything but I was thinking more about the opportunities that they missed rather than the good things they added. I was really missing that sense of discovery and exploring an alien galaxy that the first game had and got left by the wayside for the second. I did start up a new playthrough after that like I did with ME1 but IIRC I didn’t bother finishing that playthrough.

Then along came ME3. Everything about that game is depressing. The whole path of the plot and just the unrelenting apocalyptic tone of the game in general feels like it’s actively punishing you if you actually like the setting, characters, lore and so on and so forth. I know a lot of people like the Citadel DLC that they released because it lightened the tone a bit, but even with that I find it hard to set aside the fact that the universe is literally ending while you’re trying to take a break from it all with how hard the rest of the game beats you over the head with it. How bad the endings were even with the “fix” DLC that got added is a horse that’s been thoroughly beaten to death by now, but it’s not just the endings either. I already didn’t like the Illusive Man or Cerberus and had a hard time buying them as an organisation with the kind of reach and pull they had as portrayed in ME2, but seeing them turn into the Hellghast in ME3 not only betrays that portrayal of them as an org that works through subterfuge but also stretches my disbelief beyond breaking point, plus it brings you into contact with Kai Leng who has to be up there as one of the most obnoxious rival characters in any videogame ever. Otherwise, it did a few things that ME2 did slightly better and some things slightly worse, and didn’t really do anything to recapture the stuff that made ME1 so memorable to me that ME2 skipped out on. And then there was the way that Javik, the game’s most interesting new squadmate by far, was preorder DLC, and then there was the multiplayer that you were kinda forced into playing if you wanted the best ending in the singleplayer (for all the difference that made) and was riddled with lootbox microtransactions (the first major implementation of that in a AAA game IIRC.) The coup de grace for me was when dipshit vidya journalists circled the wagons around Bioware and were taking a dump on angry and disappointed fans who were demanding a change to the ending. Like, looking back I think there was a lot of histrionics involved with that from the fanbase, and let’s just say that the Bioware fanbase has earned a reputation for being particularly turbulent, but even so I really couldn’t stand the attitude that they were taking and it made me hate the game itself by proxy that much more. (I honestly think that entire saga set the stage for Gamergate two years later.)

Eventually when ME Andromeda ended up being a stillborn flop, it didn’t even really move the needle for me that much because ME3 had already set the bar so low. Worse though is that the first game was retrospectively ruined for me. Like I said earlier, I was a hyperfan for that game when it came out, but now I can’t go back to it without thinking about the disappointments that followed it, and its flaws stand out extra hard now. After I beat it for the first time it was my number 1, now I’m not sure it’s in the top 10. There’s probably the added factor that I played it to death and know it almost off by heart which takes the shine away, but that’s also the case for some of my other all-time favourites like Metroid Prime 1 and 2, Ace Combat 2, or Command and Conquer Red Alert 2, but those never really dropped in my estimation the way Mass Effect did. Honestly to this day I’m still waiting for someone to do another star-hopping sci-fi RPG in the same vein as Mass Effect and to pull it off well, because at this point I’m all but certain that it’s not going to be Bioware that does it, not with the new one they’ve got coming in the works or the trilogy remaster.

[percywinchester27]

A lot like ‘Us’ (Part-10)

Word count: 5.2K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Warnings: Implied smut, fluff :)

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N is eager and honestly, still in awe that she managed to get herself an acceptance from Stanford Law School. On the face of it, her life seems as put together, mysterious and independent as one might hope for. On the insides, she carries the burden of past that haunts her till date. Seemingly, she’d left it all behind; that is until she sets foot in the class of the Law School’s youngest, most promising professor.

A/N: No angst again! And good stuff. I am being very nice these days ;)

The story employs two different timelines. The present timeline for the story takes place in 2014. Please let me know what you guys think :)

Beta: @deanssweetheart23​. Athina, you’re a goddess <3

A lot like ‘Us’ masterlist

10th September 2008

You woke up to something soft tickling your face, almost feather light and pleasant. Opening your eyes, you found Sam’s arms wrapped around you, nestling you in them. A glowing warmth spread through your body as you remembered last night, his lips on your skin, and the feel of his hot breath on your face. The way he had called out for you was enough to raise goosebumps on your skin now. And he’d said he loved you. Your heart thrummed in your chest at the memory.

Slowly, you removed his arm from over your body and slipped out of bed. You wanted to kiss him on his forehead or the point of his nose but Sam looked so peaceful you didn’t have the heart to wake him up. 

You pulled over the T-shirt and the boxers Sam had lent you last night and headed down to the kitchen. Maybe it hadn’t been the best idea to skip dinner after a morning of hangover because your stomach was churning weirdly. 

Would everything be different now? After last night. You felt like your heart would burst from all the love you were feeling. Without giving the task at hand much thought, you fried some eggs, toasted the bread and put the coffee pot on a boil, wondering what Sam had for breakfast. 

With an excitement that you had never felt before, you carried the tray laden with food upstairs, wondering how to wake Sam up. As it turned out, Sam was already sitting up, a confused expression on his face. The sheets were bunched around his waist and the sight of his naked torso made your face feel hot. When he saw you, his eyes lit up, a smile replacing the frown.

“Here you go,” you said, placing the tray before him and then joining him on the bed.

His eyes softened. “You didn’t need to,” he said, gesturing towards the food. “Not seeing you here, I was starting to worry that last night had been a dream.”

“Only the best dream of my life,” you muttered, pouring his coffee. “Black with half spoon sugar. Just like you have it.”

Sam was still stuck on your words. He took the cup from your hands and placed it back on the tray, then pulled you to him. “That’s just it. I didn’t want it to be a dream. Even if it was the best dream ever. All dreams, even the best ones end when you wake up. But with you… I don’t ever want this to end.”

You reached out and kissed him. At first he was surprised, then he leaned into it. Kissing Sam was like a breath of fresh air for your soul. If it was left to you, you would spend an obscene amount of time kissing him.

“This is one way to start the day,” he chuckled.

“Mhmmm…” you sighed, handing him the coffee and starting on the eggs. 

“Funny that Jo didn’t turn the place upside down looking for me,” you wondered idly. You should have told her where you were last night.

“I called her when you got here,” Sam said. “When er… when you were having a bath.”

Sam was always so thoughtful. Last night it hadn’t even occurred to you to let Jo know, about the acceptance or the fact that you were here, and you weren’t particularly proud of it. Absentmindedly, you scooted closer to Sam and like it was the most natural thing to do, he put his arm around you. The heat coming of his skin and his scent was so comforting, you all but melted against his side. A girl could get used to this.

“Hey,” Sam nudged you with his lips pressed in your hair. “You know that NC Central is only a seven hour drive from New York, right?”

Of course you knew that. It was a great school, but it was also on the East coast, where Sam would be. You nodded against his neck, lightly tracing the hard lines of his stomach. 

“I could drive over the weekends to see you.” There was hope in his voice.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you smiled at the thought of it all. A new school, a new life with Sam in it. You thought of happy weekends and flinging yourself into his arms whenever you saw him. You pictured his wide smiles, and the joy in his eyes when he saw you. “I could hop on a bus on Friday night and be there in New York in the morning. You’d show me around, wouldn’t you? I’ve never been to such a big city.”

“You have no idea,” he said. “I’ve never wanted that job more than now. Hell, I’d throw myself into preparing for the bar, if it keeps us that close now.”

“Mhmm.” You huddled closer to him.

“What’re you thinking?”

“About how I’m going to afford this,” you said. “NC central isn’t that expensive, but it’s still a lot considering I have almost nothing to my name. I don’t want to sell off Gran’s house.”

“You want to make it into a bakery, I remember,” he said, gently, then added hesitantly. “Maybe I could-”

“No!” You sat up straight. “Absolutely not. I can’t ask this from you.” You hurried to explain, seeing the slightly hurt expression on his face. “This isn’t about you in any way. It’s very kind of you to offer, it really is. But I want to do this by myself. I’ll apply for a student’s loan. Like I said, the money isn’t an impossible sum. I just need a guarantor to vouch for me at the bank. I don’t want to ask aunt El cause I know she had some bank problems with the diner. She doesn’t trust them very much.”

Sam looked thoughtful.

“What’re you thinking?” You asked suspiciously. “Don’t think about volunteering.” 

His finger was drawing a pattern on your shoulder as he licked his lips. “You know I can’t. I don’t own any property myself. You should ask Dean, though.”

“Dean?” You looked up at him surprised. “Why would he?”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Sam countered. “He might not show it, but he does like you. You’re not asking him to pay for your college, you’re just asking him to be a guarantor. He has great credit, the bank won’t refuse that. It’s not like you’re going to dupe him. I know my brother. Trust me, he’ll be happy to help you.”

When you still looked surprised, Sam took hold of your hand and pressed it to his lips. “Don’t overthink this. You said you wanted to do this by yourself, so you bring it up with him. I promise I won’t say a word.”

“You’re awesome. You know that, right?”

He winked. “I don’t know about that. But I’m sure happy you think that!”

You removed the tray from the bed and placed it on the side table, then moved over to straddle Sam, hands placed on either side of his face. “Thank you for being so understanding.”

In a quick moment, Sam flipped you, so that you were lying on the bed with him hovering over you. He dipped down to kiss the hollow of your neck, then whisper against your skin. “The pleasure is all mine.”

***************************************

“You know, if you keep bouncing on the balls of your feet like that,” Meg said drowsily from the table, where she sat flipping through a magazine, “I’m going to side with Kevin on this. You’re hiding something.”

You put your lunch in the bag, wondering just how to tell her. It wasn’t that you wanted to hide your history from your roommate. There was just so much of it, you had no idea where to start. For now, you just settled for, “There’s this professor. I thought he was mad at me. Turns out he isn’t.”

“Wow. It doesn’t take much to get you all chirpy.”

Just the feeling of six years worth of hell coming to an end.

“Ready to go?” You asked and Meg jumped down from the high stool.

“Yep.”

“Is this the same good looking professor?” She asked out the blue as you reached the campus gates.

“How do you know about the good looking professor?” You narrowed your eyes. You had mentioned Sam only to one person in the apartment.

Meg looked taken aback for a second, then said nonchalantly. “Cas told me.”

“You two are really close, aren’t you?” Try as you may, you couldn’t keep the sly tone out of your voice completely. 

Meg changed the topic smoothly, but not before you saw the faint blush on her cheeks.

Meg blushing? Speak of novelty.

She waved you a goodbye at the entrance of the law building, heading north to the Physics department. Wondering if anyone else in the apartment had noticed, you entered the class for your first lecture. 

Professor Mills was in a great mood today, and she encouraged a debate on whether Legal writing and its syntax should affect how seriously the core content of any litigation is treated. You firmly believed that poor syntax should in no way undermine the severity of any litigation, and made your points with citation. The opposite team consisting of Brad and everyone in Madison’s group tried to put up a strong fight, but you knew you had the moral high ground on that one. Maddy was smiling by the end of it, but the expression on the other’s faces ranged from disappointment to disgust.

Professor Mills mentioned you by your name at the end of the class, lauding you for your points. It was enough to give you the high of the day. You simply loved her.

As the college day neared its end, you were excited for Civil Procedures, excited to see Sam again. Maybe he wouldn’t ignore you now. Maybe he’d actually look at you and smile. Your eyes were eagerly glued to the door, waiting for him while everyone chattered in the background.  

It wasn’t Sam who came in. Instead, the TA Paul announced that the lecture has been cancelled for today and tomorrow. Professor Winchester would take double lectures in the following week to cover it up. 

“Well, dang it!” Meredith cursed. “After that horrible debate, I was looking forward to seeing that chiseled face.”

“You aren’t the only one who’s disappointed,” Lacey said slyly. “Y/N looks like someone kicked her puppy.”

You schooled your expressions immediately. 

Madison rolled her eyes. “Everyone was looking forward to it. Maybe he has something important. Remember he ditched Thursday, Friday on our first week, too.”

“Maybe he’s just playing hooky with his girlfriend,” Rebecca shrugged. You had a maddening urge to slap her. It wasn’t fair to direct all your anger at her; you knew that. However, listening to her words, evaporated the high you had been feeling completely.

How naive of you to think that one small conversation could make everything okay. Maybe he went back home and changed his mind, had seen that the exchange was a lapse in his judgement. Your stomach dropped at that thought. Why did he have to show you a moment of softness, if he was just going to take it all away? It would have been better then, had he continued to ignore your existence. You had been making your peace with it. You didn’t think you had it in you to take one more hit after feeling hope, at last.

Morosely, you started picking up your things.

“Y/N. Don’t forget about the party, tomorrow.”

Madison was looking at you with wide eyes.

You opened your mouth to make up a reason. She cut you off-

“Look, I checked your schedule. You’re not working this weekend. This is your last working day for the week. I’ve made all the reservations and counted you in.”

“Maddie-”

Her brow furrowed. “You’re not going to stand me up, are you? The drinks are on me.”

Looking at her, you just couldn't say no. 

“I was gonna say that I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Yay!” She shot out of her chair and flung her arms around you. Surprised, you put your hand against her back. 

“Told you she’d come,” Madison told her friends. Lacey gave you a smile, Meredith looked disinterested and Rebecca had her back turned to you completely. That summed it up accurately. For the umpteeth time you wondered how their group functioned at all.

Brad, who had been lingering at the table with his guy friends, gave you a smirk.

“Miss Y/L/N finally gracing us with her presence?”

“Oh, butt out, Brad,” Madison shoved him. “If you keep acting like a dick, she might change her mind.”

“Now we wouldn’t want that, would we,” he said under his breath.

You didn’t want any more of their company than what was absolutely required, so you said your goodbye to Madison and left the lecture hall for the day. With your sulky attitude, returning to the apartment wasn’t an option in case you ran into someone. Those guys were very perceptive and you didn’t want to lie to them anymore.

After wandering aimlessly underneath the pergolas of the Quadrangle, you headed to the library. It was about two in the afternoon; four more hours and it would be your shift anyway.

You decided to have your lunch in the closed quarters of the librarian’s room. There wasn’t much to the room except a makeshift bed, a table, chair and a coffee machine. You could sit there and catch up with the essays after lunch.

The on shift librarian wasn’t Molly today, but this other odd hours guy. She was hovering over him, giving instructions. When she saw you, she ushered you to the side. “It’s his first time. I’m training him for the weekend.”

“Oh.” You looked over at the guy. He was clearly an anxious wreck. You felt bad for him.

“Hey listen,” you said, “Is it okay if I use the librarian’s room? I haven’t had lunch and I don’t want to go to the eateries or the mess.”

She gave you a guilty look. “The room is kinda sorta… ocupado.”

“What?”

“See for yourself.” She took hold of your hand and pulled you towards the room in question.

The door was almost closed, save for a small slit. Through it, you could see Sam sitting on the table, multiple books and files scattered around him. He was absolutely absorbed in whatever he was doing, forehead lined in concentration.

“What the-”

Molly shushed you. “Look, I know this looks weird, but he’s in the middle of something. They convicted one of his key clients, and he said he needed some place quiet to figure this out.”

“What about his firm?” You asked the obvious question.

“Client’s not from SF. He’s from LA. Heading to Acton Gris would be going in the opposite direction.”

“Then what about his office here?” You were so surprised that the questions just flowed out of your mouth.

Molly gave an exasperated sigh. “Students. They keep knocking on the door.” She gave you a desperate look. “Please Y/N, let him be. He’s really worked up about it.”

“Yeah, of course,” you assured her. 

She looked grateful. “This isn’t conventional, but he’s one of the good folks around here. I knew him from the alumni fraternity before he started teaching here. In fact, he recommended me for my internship at the LA firm he was working in then.”

That explained why she called him by his first name. She was preaching to the choir about how good Sam was though.

“That’s all fine,” you said. “Just let me know if there’s any way I can help.”

“Molly?”

Both of you jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Molly?” He asked again. “Is that you?”

She pushed the door open.

“Yeah it’s me.” She looked at you. “And this is Y/N. You remember her from the other day, don’t you?”

He smiled at you. It was a tired smile, but it held the mischief of a secret only the two of you knew.

“I remember her,” he said dryly.

All the distress and world ending angst you had been feeling since the class vanished into thin air.

“I-I didn’t mean to disturb you,” you said quickly. “I just came in to check if I could have lunch here. Clearly you are busy working, so I’m just going to go now.”

“You’re not disturbing,” he said firmly. “I’ll clear the table. You can have lunch here.”

“No- no,” you backed off. “Seriously. I can go to the mess.”

“Y/N.” He looked beyond exhausted, as if he hadn’t slept in a while. Even his words were heavy. “C’mon, in. At least sit on the bed.”

Molly poked you in the back from behind and you stumbled inside. 

The room was a mess. There were papers everywhere. Sam was one of the most organised people you knew. If there was that much mess around him, either he had changed drastically in the years or this was really a disaster situation. 

“Tell me if I can help you with anything.” The words were out before you could even think them through. 

He rubbed his hand across his face. “I can’t possibly ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking me. I’m offering.”

You didn’t know if this fell in line with proper etiquette of how one should converse with a professor, but this was Sam, and he looked ready to drop. To hell with etiquette. You were going to do whatever you could to help.

Behind you, Molly had disappeared back into the library.

He paused, considering your words, then sighed. “Even if you wanted to, this is too much to explain.”

You flung your bag on the bed and rolled up the sleeves of your sweater. “I’ve worked as a paralegal for an asshole boss. I think I can keep up.”

Sam gave you a look that was halfway between impressed and surprised. 

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered under his breath, so softly that you almost missed it. “Alright, here’s the details of the case-”

You listened attentively as he quickly briefed you about this teenage boy, James Feller, who had been arrested for grand auto theft about four years back. The boy testified against the gang, cut a deal with the DA and walked. Now he had been arrested again, and after being let out, jumped the bail. Sam had until tomorrow to fix it or this kid was spending a long, long time in jail. Sam was sure that James hadn’t done it. He had some grabs from CCTV footage to prove his alibi. It only needed to be put together. He might be completely innocent when it came to the theft, but there was still the bail issue to take care of.

“Right, I’ll go through the log to see if there’s anything similar where an underage defendant jumped bail and got out of prison under the jurisdiction of LA,” you said.

“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” he said, astonished again.

You shrugged and pulled out your laptop, signing into the library’s archival server with your password. There were a couple of cases that could be cited in context to Sam’s case. You pulled out the soft copies of the litigations and highlighted the relevant extracts. 

“You guys need anything?” Molly was standing at the door. She had her bag on her shoulder. You looked at the clock. It was already six, time for your shift to begin. Where had the time gone?

“We’re good,” Sam said.

“Seriously? You guys don’t need anything? Not even coffee?” She came to stand by the coffee machine. “I’m making a cup for myself anyway.”

You gave in. “I’d like a cup. Thanks, Molly.”

“One for me, too,” Sam caved, too.

“You guys look intense working like that,” she said, filling the pot with water. “Are you making any headway?”

“Y/N found some useful citations.” Sam closed the heavy book before him and leaned back in his chair, rolling the sleeves of his white shirt. The coat had been hung over the back of his chair since long before. You tried not to look at him too much.

“Good on you, Y/N!” Molly said, pulling on three mugs. “How do you have your coffee?”

“Little milk and one spoon sugar,” you said politely.

“Sam?”

There was no response. You looked to see that he was busy with his phone, having not heard a single word of it.

“Let it be,” you suggested, seeing as Molly was shuffling the strap of her bag. “You go on. I’ll manage the coffee.”

“You’re a lovely person!” She noted with just a hint of surprise, then blew you a kiss. “See you later, Chica bonita.”

You poured coffee for him, black with half spoon of sugar, stirred it and carefully handed it to him. He took it gratefully, holding out two fingers as he talked over the phone. 

You grabbed your mug and went back to your laptop. It appeared that Sam was talking to a colleague explaining the things he needed to get ready. He took a sip of the coffee and stopped mid sentence, looking at you over his screen in wonderment.

“Chase, I’ll call you back in a minute.”

You had gathered your stuff in one hand.

“Y/N?” Sam interrupted you, voice oddly tender. “You remembered.”

He was holding his mug out. The warm vapours were slightly fogging his glasses.

“Of course I remember.”

There was no way you would forget.

He saw your things wrapped in your hand and the bag slung over your shoulder.

“You’re leaving?” Disappointment clear in his tone.

You shook your head. “I’m just going outside at the desk. It’s my shift now. I’ll continue tagging relevant extracts and have three sets of printouts ready for you. You’ll let me know if you need more time? I can keep the library running all night.”

“You’re the power wielding person here, aren’t you?”

“Sure am,” you grinned. “I’ll leave you it.”

Once outside, you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Being around Sam made you conscious of every little thing… enough to drive you crazy. Maybe it was a good thing that you were going to the party tomorrow. You needed a drink. That thought inadvertently reminded you of Jo- the only sister you’d ever had. If she were here, she would have told you to go for it despite knowing how insane drunk Y/N was and wreck you would be the next day. The memory of her also made you sad, the missing was gut wrenching sometimes. You almost turned on your heel and headed by inside to ask Sam about Jo and about Dean. Were they still together? Did the diner ever get out of the bumpy patch? How was aunt El doing? 

Did they hate you for leaving like that?

That thought brought you up short. You didn’t want to know the answer to that question. There was a small hope within you. If Sam of all people could find it in himself to be civil with you, maybe they would, too. Broaching the topic now would be disastrous. It wouldn’t help Sam right now to lose concentration. Hell, he might do a 180 and suddenly remember that he didn’t like you.

You got back to your desk, filing the cards out for the day before getting to Sam’s paperwork. Though it was a manual job, you did it with utmost concentration, knowing how chaotic courtrooms got and how crucial it was to find the right evidence at the right time. Alongside, you carefully read the suit and arranged the stacks according to the order in which they were needed.

“You know, if you kept going at it like that, you’ll have to represent the boy tomorrow.”

You looked up and your breath hitched. Sam stood before you, his shirt partially untucked and sleeves rolled all the way up till his elbows. The tie was gone and the top button of his shirt was undone. There was a glint of silver against his neck, a thin chain. You wondered where it had come from absently. Without the glasses, and his hair slightly dishevelled, you could see some of the guy you had first fallen in love with.

You looked away quickly, blinking several times, then pushed the stack of printouts towards him. All three copies, arranged as per the appearances of the evidence in the suit papers. The affidavits are all the bottom, along with the supplementary copies.

“You should come down to the office and train my assistant,” he said, leaning over the table so that his elbow rested on top. “He can’t find one paper on time.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh.

“Aren’t you having dinner?” He asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. He was nervous. 

“I’m not hungry.” Your stomach was already so full of butterflies, you didn’t think any food could go in.

“I’m already feeling terrible that you’re helping me with this… please don’t skip dinner for it.” There was something about his voice that affected your soul. The sound of his words were different from everyone elses. All words felt kinder, lovelier when he said them.

“Why are you fighting for this kid?” The words slipped past you before you could stop them. You had been wondering this all evening. “I saw the papers. You’re doing this pro bono and not for Acton Gris. This is your own case.”

He didn’t reply immediately and his face had a far away look. When he finally spoke, it was in a reminiscing tone. “I met James when he was a foster kid a few years ago. He got pushed into the racket because of bad influence. When I saw him at the retention centre, he broke down completely. They were blackmailing him by threatening to hurt his little sister. When he first got off, he looked at me like I was some kind of miracle.”  Sam’s face had an awed look, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could think that of him.

“I knew he wouldn’t get into this again. He’s in college now and has basically turned his life around. We have enough evidence to pin a gang member down for framing him. I don’t want anyone at Acton Gris to help me on this because this is my own case. Putting some poor junior on it is just abusing my power.”

He was a good man. That in itself didn’t surprise you because you had always known it. What surprised you was that he had remained one. Sam used to be starry eyed with ambitions and full of a thirst to do the right thing. He had been so idealistic. It worried you that one day he would wake up and see that the world was an even worse place than what he thought it to be. You worried that the ruthless profession might kill some of the inherent goodness in him. After having lost just as much as you, he hadn’t lost faith in the world. He had remained good.

“What?” He questioned and you realised you were staring.

“There you are!”

Jody Mills stood behind Sam, a harried expression on her face. He straightened up immediately and it occurred to you how close your faces had been.

“I went to your house, called up your PA, and here you are.”

“Jody?” He clearly hadn’t expected her.

She handed him the bag she was carrying. “I have dinner for you. I knew you would bury yourself in the case and wouldn’t cook since you’re by yourself now.”

Now. What did that mean? Lacey’s remark about Sam living in family quarters and having a girlfriend came to your mind. You dismissed it quickly.

“Didn’t see you there, Y/N,” Professor Mills came around. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

“Actually I just started a week ago.”

Her eyes flitted to the stack in front of you. “And what’s this?”

“Y/N’s been helping me with some printing,” Sam said.

Professor Mills gave him a once over. “Sam Winchester making students work?”

“It’s not like that,” you defended quickly. “I offered to help S- Mr. Winchester. I have some experience as a paralegal and this was only a matter of making copies.”

“You did a lot more than that,” Sam corrected smoothly.

“I was only joking.” she placed a hand on Sam’s arm and you noted that they were probably closer than just colleagues. Friends even. “You, on the other hand, keep surprising me, Y/N. This looks like solid work.”

You blushed at the compliment, mumbling a small ‘thank you.’ Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sam gazed down at you oddly. If you didn’t know any better, you might have misinterpreted it as a hint of pride. 

“You have your food!” Jody ordered him and waved at you. “See you in class tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Good night,” you wished her.

Before leaving, she glanced from you to Sam and back again, a peculiar look in her eyes, shook her head and left.

She had packed a burger and pack of oily fries for Sam. You saw his brow furrow at the sight of it and smiled to yourself. Some things never changed.

Sam insisted that you have your dinner, too. However, you made sure that while he sat inside, you had your dinner at your desk. There was only so much of his nearness you could take without having your feelings run wild. Sam needed to go through the case files in peace for the court tomorrow. You let him be, only visiting the librarian’s room once to let him know that you wouldn’t shut the library at all. He was grateful for it. After everyone else had left, you wrapped the shawl around your shoulders and put your head down against the wooden desk. Closing your tired eyes just for a second, you let yourself reflect on everything that had happened today and how one day could be more impactful than a month of one's life sometimes.  

You woke up several hours later. Grey light was starting to filter from the high windows. It was early dawn.

Hurriedly you got up to check on Sam, but the librarian’s room was closed from the outside, you checked in the seating area, too. There was no one there; you were by yourself in the room. 

Back to your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper placed under your paperweight.

It said-

Y/N,

I have to start from here now to make it to LA in time for the hearing. Didn’t have the heart to wake you up. I can’t thank you enough for your invaluable help.

Regards,

Sam.

You clutched the paper tightly in your fingers, crumpling it in the process. Sometimes a few words were louder than a speech. Sometimes the gesture was even louder.

***************************************   

A/N 2: You guys! THEY TALKED! I know a lot of you have been like ‘They just need to talk’ and well, it happened. So what do you think? Uphill?

ALL MY LOVE to everyone who commented and reblogged. You guys keep me posting! <3

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[theres-a-goldensky]

26 + 2 Various BL Series Fic Recs

Fandoms included in this fic rec list: Love By Chance, TharnType, Until We Meet Again, My Engineer, 2 Moons, HIStory3: Trapped (plus a bit of bonus Theory of Love and WHY R U?)

I’ve found a handful of good fics for all of these tiny pairings that I am newly obsessed with, and I thought I’d share them with you if you’re also looking for something good to read. Please, if you have recs of your own, point me in the direction of any other good stuff!

As ever, feel free to reblog and check out my other rec lists for the following fandoms:

The Untamed list one and two - various pairings, mostly Wangxian

IT chapter 2 list one and two - Reddie 

Good Omens - Aziraphale/Crowley

Or just head over to my bookmarks on AO3.

(All recs are complete) (I’ve noted pairings, length, and rating, but not any warnings or additional tags.)

** denotes personal favorite

LOVE BY CHANCE / THARNTYPE

1. the count up series by sweetiejelly - Tin/Can - ~34,000 words, explicit - A fix-it fic post-canon where Tin and Can slowly work out their issues with some missteps and learning along the way.

So two weeks later, when Can first does it, Tin doesn't know what to do. For the longest while, he just turns off his phone screen. And then turns it back on.

good night, tin. it's been a while but i promised to say good night. so, good night, sleep well.

Every damn time the text is still there.

In the end, Tin deletes it.

The next morning, Can does it again.

good morning, tin. looks like rain today. don't forget your umbrella.

Tin deletes it.

The texts keep coming.

2. ** LBC Aftermath series by Mara - LBC/TharnType crossover- ~6700 words, mature - Were you too horrified by Techno’s ending in LBC? This author feels your pain and did her part to get some justice for Techno. This fic has zero sympathy for Kengkla, which I deeply appreciated. This will help you work out some of your anger. It features LBC!Techno and the TharnType versions of Tharn and Type. Mind the warnings, since this deals with the serious consequences of Kengkla’s actions.

Kengkla stayed at the house through the morning and Techno was so jumpy he nearly leaped out of his skin every time Kla looked at him or talked to him. Even though Kla had explained what happened and how he wasn’t upset to be dating, Techno still felt weird. He kind of wished he remembered what had happened. A guy should remember how he lost his virginity, right?

Kla grabbed him in a big hug and Techno froze, managing a weak grin when Kla pulled back to smile at him. “I’ve got to go home now. But I’ll call you later. Let me know if you go somewhere.”

“O-okay.” Techno stared as the boy let himself out the front door.

3. 5 + 1 by strokeofluck - Tin/Can- ~3600 words, rated general - This is a sweet story about the times when Pete sees Tin having feelings for Can. 

Pete weighed his options as he glanced back and forth between Tin and Can. Can didn’t seem to be bothered by the whole thing, he even had a shy smile on his face. Or at least, Pete thought it was a shy smile, he had never really seen this kind of expression coming from Can before.

He could let this whole thing go, he supposed, but he didn’t really want to. It was time for him to finally say to Tin: I told you so.

“You were born in Bangkok,” he said, casting a wide net and hoping Can would find himself caught in it.

Can did.

4. That Testified Surprise by Mara - Techno/Tharn/Type - ~7000 words, mature - This is a LBC canon rewrite that stars the TharnType version of all three characters. Type realizes something is not...quite...right with Kengkla and invites Techno to stay with him and Tharn instead of going home drunk.

Pouring Techno into the passenger seat, Type sat down in the driver’s seat and pulled the phone out to check it, entering the passcode. (The passcode was the birthday of Thai national football team captain Siwarak Tedsungnoen, of course. Duh.)

Fuck, it looked like Nic had been either texting or calling every 20 minutes since they got to the bar. What was up there?

Scrolling back through the evening’s texts, Type scowled harder. Loving brother or not, this was fucking creepy. Going back farther, it looked like it was a pattern. Did the kid do anything other than pester his brother about his whereabouts?

THARNTYPE

5. everything he wants by minkit - ~5100 words, explicit - Type accidentally ruins one of Tharn’s shirts and agrees to do whatever Tharn wants to make up for it. Which means it’s porn stretched over the bare bones of a plot, and it’s great. 

Tharn’s hands moved across the bed, slowly, inch by inch and it was frustrating because Type knew they were heading to him, but Tharn took his sweet time. And then they were covering his hands and Tharn’s face was mere centimeters from his and Type could barely breathe. It took everything he had not to lean forward and capture those lips that also belonged to him, but he had a feeling if he tried, Tharn wouldn’t let him. He had that look on his face and Type knew what it meant.

He knew he was in for a long rest of the night.

6. You’ve Got Mail by perthbysaint - ~7800 words, explicit - Type sends Tharn nudes at the most inconvenient times.

A selfie? From Type? Tharn was thanking all of his lucky stars as he happily taps to load the image. The picture loads and Tharn’s phone slips from his suddenly lax grip. Convinced he couldn’t have just seen what he thought he just saw, he picks his phone up hastily and stares very intently at the picture.

It’s a mirror selfie, obviously taken in a changing room, but that thought comes secondary to thighs. Type is holding the camera in front of his face to take the picture, shirt clenched in his other hand and pulled up slightly to show off the shorts. The fucking shorts. He had seen Type in his soccer gear before and yes, Type has most definitely asked for the wrong size and Tharn is more grateful than he’s ever been for anything in his whole life. The shorts are riding up so high they can’t cover more than a few inches of skin, Type’s smooth, powerful thighs on full display. On the inside of his left thigh, there’s a tiny purple mark peeking out from under the bottom of the shorts. Tharn knows exactly what it is because he was the one who left it there just two days ago when he sucked marks into Type’s thighs for a half-hour before he slung Type’s legs over his shoulders and ate him out until Type was sobbing fat tears and begging Tharn to let him come.

7. pet names series by LokelaniRose - ~50,000 words, explicit - A series of post-episode fics that gives us the sex that the show only hinted at, starting with the shower scene.

Tharn prides himself on his self-control. All his passion and intensity is saved for his music, when he’s safely behind a drum kit and can let it all out. He’s never been as irritated by anyone else as he is by Type and all his playground bullying nonsense. Something about the other boy just shakes something loose inside him, rattles at Tharn’s iron discipline until he has to grit his teeth constantly not to just – what? Kiss him? Kill him? Tharn has enough composure (and pride) to put up a front that’s all smiles and wry amusement, but really he regularly skips between one of two daydreams – twisting Type’s head off or fucking him into the ground.

(Tharn is absolutely not going to admit to the third set of daydreams, of curling up around Type when he’s cold or cheering him on at matches or bringing him home to meet Tharn’s father. Nope, no, definitely not.)

2MOONS SERIES

8. ** The universe where we do not commit reckless, unlubricated buttsex by startledoctopus - Forth/Beam - ~8700 words, explicit - This is a great story about Beam giving in and trying to seduce Forth the same way he seduced all of those girls in his past. This Forth is great, and the story retcons their first time to something far more pleasant for Beam.

   "We're heading into a unit on disorders of the spine and I need to review my basic skeletal and muscular anatomy. But it feels stupid to keep studying these weird-looking diagrams and drawings." None of this was, strictly speaking, factual, but an engineering major wouldn't know any different. Beam gathered up all his bravado, walked behind Forth, and began rucking up his shirts as if this were completely normal.

   "What! I..."

   "Shut up, I need to look at a real back so I know what I'll be looking at as a doctor." Forth let him take the shirts off, glancing back at him several times but giving in meekly to Beam's stern look. Forth shuffled the papers some more.

   "All right. Okay, um...Ah!" Beam smirked at Forth's reaction as he ran his thumbs down the nape of his neck.

9. Good Things Come To by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~4300 words, explicit - Kit gets drunk and reveals more of his feelings for Ming than he probably means to.

"Hmm." Kit closes his eyes and leans his head back on the headrest. "Ming, Ming, Ming. Do you know your name's a kiss? I'm kissing the air everytime I say 'Ming'!" Kit pops his mouth and it pops Ming's mind a bit. "And then I think about kissing you. Why do you make me think about you so damn much? You're so annoying, Ming. No one's ever..." and Kit leans to the side, almost like he's going to conk out or throw up, only to straighten back up. "... made me this crazy."

Oh shit. Ming doesn't know what to do with all of this information. He knew somewhere deep down that Kit likes him. Kit's eyes can't lie. Kit's mouth can't either, the cusses coming out whenever he's keyed up and flustered, and then there are his kisses.

10 + 11. ** how to fail flirt your way into his heart (a guide by Kit) and a little conversation (and a little action please) by sweetiejelly - Ming/Kit - ~30,000 words, explicit in the second part - This story makes a tiny plot divergence. It has Kit put a little more effort into finding out if Ming is really into Yo and then from there, it loosely follows the plot of the show with some key differences. I really enjoyed this.

"Can I have your number?" Kit mentally face-palms. Why? Damn Pha. Damn Beam. Just damn everything, ugh. He has never flirted in his life. Pin asked him out, okay? He doesn't know how to do this. "I'm Kit, Phana's friend," he says, trying to make it less weird.

"I'm Ming. And of course, P'Kit!" Ming flashes him an easy grin and holds out his hand.

Oh right, the phone. Kit shoves it at Ming, nearly hitting him in the chest. Great, he's acing this.

Ming smiles at him, bemused or confused, probably both, and brushes his hand, totally unnecessarily, over the back of Kit's hand as he takes the phone. "In case of emergency, right?" Ming looks up at him from under his lashes and boy, this nong is brazen.

12. ** In Control series by LokelaniRose - Ming/Kit - ~27,000 words, explicit - Kit struggles to tell Ming that he wants something other than the careful, gentle sex they’ve been having. Ming discovers that Kit has some anxiety and panic problems. He also discovers what helps him feel better. [spoilers: these two things are connected.] I love how attentive and caring Ming is throughout this series. The anxious Kit also rings true to the character we saw on the show.

But now that Kit is fretting over things, he might as well fret over this as well. So Ming is great in bed. And let’s be honest, Kit probably isn’t. He hasn’t had a hundred previous partners – okay, tiny exaggeration, but still – and doesn’t know all the fancy moves and techniques and tricks…and just like everything else, in bed Ming is somehow casual and sincere at the same time. He never seems to want anything except what Kit wants, is always happy to do whatever, to take his time making slow, gentle love to Kit. Kit knows that he always comes at least – he secretly really likes it when Ming comes, he’s not quite sure why – but what if there’s more that Kit could be doing, to make it better for him? If Kit was better in bed maybe it would make up for being a shitty boyfriend in other areas, one who can’t be nice in public or talk about his feelings.

UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN

13. another nightmare fic by itsmylifekay - Win/Team - ~2300 words, not rated - Team tries to sleep without Win and it doesn’t go well. 

Team’s room feels suffocating, the air too thick and the space too dark and the covers sticking to his skin with sweat. His breaths are too loud in the quiet, but the quiet itself is deafening. It reminds him of the water. The muted sounds. The frantic pounding of his heart. (The same one he feels now echoed in his chest.)

Flashes of the dream come back to him unbidden.

Everything is too dark, too bright, no way to see what way is up or what way is down. He’s trapped. Can’t get out. Can’t breathe.

14. ** Different With You by blackrose9212 - Win/Team - ~6900 words, teen - It’s open swim week, which means that the swimming club offers free lessons to any of the students who would like to participate. Team doesn’t understand why his teammates hate it so much - until he does. Great jealousy in this one from both sides. 

“Nice to meet you,” the boy gushes. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’d like to join your group. Auntie said there needs to be at least three people, and no one was sitting across from you two. I’ve been paying attention so I already have ideas. Is that okay?” Team watches as he pulls out his books and drops them onto the table, pushing them a little farther out so they’re nearly touching Win’s notebook.

Team shrugs. “Sure, that’s fine. I don’t think Win has been paying attention so I’m glad you have an idea of what’s going on.”

Win hits him lightly at the back of the hand and Film giggles behind his hand. “Oh, no, P’Win looks very smart. I’m sure he’s been listening.” He looks at Win and smiles a little, blushing when Win gives him a smile back.

Team looks between the two of them. Then back at Film, who’s watching Win leaf through his literature textbook like he’s never seen anything so beautiful, and then past Film at the table he left from, where he sees three boys, laughing behind their hands and making cooing faces.

15. seven hundred thirteen by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~6800 words, mature - Win spends two years abroad in England, and he and Team have to navigate a long distance relationship. It’s very sweet and written very true to life. 

“I kind of hoped you were going to show up at the airport tomorrow morning and chase the plane,” Win says. He kisses Team’s hair, lingering there to memorize the fresh, clear scent.

Team says, “Is it weird that I thought about doing that?” and Win feels him smile against his shoulder.

It’s late, nearly nine thirty, and Win had plans of how to spend tonight that can’t be realized anymore. He wanted to invite Team to dinner with his family. He wanted to play video games with Team and View. He wanted to talk about London with Waan and Team. He wanted to include Team in his family’s warmth in some small way, to make him feel less lonely.

He can’t do any of that now but he still wants to sneak Team upstairs and have him in his arms all night. He wouldn’t, but he wants to. It’s been a month since he moved off campus permanently, and weeks since he was last able to spend a night alone with Team.

16. ** You Can Cry by Kiranokira - Win/Team - ~19,600 words, mature - Win goes missing while on vacation with some friends. Team is left at home trying to handle it. I like the way the author built up to the accident happening. They did a good job creating tension and showing us exactly how Team felt about Win. And spoilers, this story has a happy ending.

“You’re going to fail out of university,” Team tells him. “You’re not really going, are you?”

Win rolls onto his side and perches his cheek on his hand. “What if I say yes?” he asks. “Will you miss me?”

Team’s warning look is more venomous than usual. “Not at all,” Team says, and Win smirks because that isn’t true and they both know it. “You still shouldn’t go. What if you miss the flight back? You’ll fail out and I’ll break up with you for being a dumbass.”

The very recent phenomenon of Team acknowledging that they’re a couple has its usual melting effect on Win’s heart.

2GETHER

17. ** Love Songs on Our Skin series by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~15,700 words, explicit - A soulmark AU where Tine is born with the notes to a song that hasn’t yet been written wrapped around his chest. I enjoyed how Tine’s obliviousness in the show carries over to this fic. 

Only Mr. Chic would have a song no one had ever fucking heard of permanently etched on his chest. For fuck's sake .

Still, he waves it off, and he tries not to look too closely at other people's marks. Tries being the key word. He doesn't envy the elegant watercolors of a guitar pick and an open novel he catches sight of on the wrists of some couple's interlinked hands when he's in town. And he certainly doesn't envy the dude he once saw in a coffee shop with the words " I hate you " scrawled across the back of his neck. But yeah, okay, he might be a little jealous of the people who are lucky enough to have something as simple as their soulmate's name on their skin. That definitely isn't fair.

"Why couldn't it at least have been a Scrubb song?" he asks the mirror as he wipes it clear shower-born condensation. The mirror and him are well acquainted with this conversation by now. In fact, the mirror sees the stupid mark more than anyone, so it might as well put up with his equally stupid questions. "It could have been 'Together.' Just think of it, how romantic it would be to meet some cute girl's eyes after bumping into them at a concert, my favorite song playing . . ." He draws a nail over the winding bars of the music on his chest, frowning. "That would be so much easier."

18. Drown Your Sorrows by HyacinthsSoul - 2gether/Theory of Love - Sarawat and Third meet at a bar and bond over being in love with oblivious men.

“No, he’s an angel,” Sarawat says. “Unfortunately he’s a very stupid, very straight angel.”

“Mine’s stupid too,” the other man admits. “But definitely no angel. I’m Third, by the way,” he adds, offering a slender hand to shake.

“Sarawat,” says Sarawat. “Can I buy you another? I think we’re drinking the same thing, although I can’t remember what it’s called.”

20. ** Your Body Is My Instrument by Kari_Kurofai - Sarawat/Tine - ~12,000 words, explicit - This fic does a good job doing what, in this reccer’s humble opinion, the series failed to: showing Tine attracted to Sarawat. There’s great first time sex and some fun sexual tension. Plus, we get to see them switch off, which is extremely rare in BL. And most importantly: hand kink.

It starts innocently enough. Or, well, innocently enough for a guy whose first words to him were, “Keep looking at me like that and I’ll kiss you till you drop.” So, you know. It starts kinda like that.

They’ve been officially dating for a grand sum total of three days and altogether not that much has changed. Except that Sarawat touches him more now. Normally this would be fine, no big deal, right? But Sarawat has magic, evil hands, and apparently all he has to do is glance Tine’s way to deduce the exact right places and ways to touch Tine to drive him up the fucking wall.

And the worst part is it’s almost never the same place or the same way twice, and the only warning Tine ever gets is that sneaky little glint Sarawat gets in his eyes just before he does it, the bastard.

MY ENGINEER

21. Cool Boy(friend) by HyacinthsSoul - Ram/King - ~22,000 words, explicit - So this is technically a WIP, but each chapter feels like a completed fic without a cliffhanger or anything. This is a very sweet, comfortable story about King and Ram getting to know each other as their relationship develops.

In the selfie King sends, he’s holding up a full shot glass while someone’s arm reaches into the frame to hand him another kind of drink, something tall with a straw and a paper umbrella. Ram frowns. Whose arm is that? The person is wearing a red long-sleeved shirt, which doesn’t match what any of their friend group was wearing, and the engineer bar doesn’t offer table service.

Frowning, Ram looks back through the previous photos until he spots a detail he’d overlooked before: a red-shirted man at a neighboring table. He’s visible in the background of two or three pictures taken by Tee, and in each of them he’s staring intently at King.

Not that it’s any of Ram’s business. Not that he cares.

HISTORY3: TRAPPED

22. it’s too late (to turn back now) by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~7200 words, general audiences - Canon divergence fic where Tang Yi pushes Shao Fei away after he saves Hong Ye in order to try and protect him. Shao Fei reacts to that about as well as you’d expect.

“Tang Yi, what do you mean-“

“I think you’ve fooled around for long enough,” Tang Yi interrupts, his voice cold, nothing like the man who had dabbed at his lips with a cotton bud last night, the man who had smiled at him when he made the cannon joke.

“You’ve disrupted my life, and the life of my family and friends in the past few weeks, Meng Shao Fei. This has gone for long enough,” he continues, unwavering. “I don’t want to have anything more to do with you. Take a good rest here in the hospital, and I’ll get someone to pack up your things back at the house. Jack will deliver it back to your apartment.”

23 + 24. ** just waiting, waiting (on you) and between you and me by stebeee - Tang Yi/Meng Shao Fei - ~16,000 words, general audiences - These are stories about how Shao Fei and the rest of the gang deal over the years when Tang Yi is in jail. Found family fics are my jam, so I loved this.

The thing is, it’s been almost three months of this. 90 days, give or take. 2,160 hours. 129,600 minutes. And more than 7 million seconds of this — not having Tang Yi at his side.

Shao Fei wonders for a moment if he will ever stop seeing Tang Yi in every corner of the house. When he comes down the stairs in the morning, some part of him expects to see Tang Yi standing at the kitchen island with a bright smile, asking him if he wants jam with his toast that morning. Shao Fei sees Tang Yi in that apron he loves, cooking at the stove when he fixes himself dinner, alone in the spacious kitchen. Seeing Tang Yi’s favourite blue bathrobe, Shao Fei can almost see Tang Yi leaving the bathroom, his hair all wet and falling over his eyes.

25. amuse bouche by sarahyyy - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~2400 words, general audiences - This is more of Jack seducing Zhao Zi through food and attention. So basically an extension of the show. Mother hen Jack is the cutest.

“Jack?” Zhao Zi murmurs blearily. “Why are you here?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?” Jack shoots back, herding Zhao Zi back into the house. He checks for Zhao Zi’s temperature with the back of his hand. “Fever?”

“Just the flu for now, I think?” Zhao Zi says.

Jack purses his lips. “Have you had anything to eat?”

“I had some bread earlier?” Zhao Zi says, but he also looks shifty enough that Jack mostly takes it with a grain of salt.

26. Absolutely Nothing Goes Wrong by anon - Jack/Zhao Zi - ~4500 words, teen - This is an AU where Zhao Zi is the son of a rival mob boss, but he’s still, you know HIMSELF. And when his father says he’s useless, he decides to prove him wrong by seducing Tang Yi’s second-in-command. It’s absolutely adorable.

The man pulled him by the arm, resisting Zhao Zi’s attempts to unhook his claws without causing a scene.

“Hey, stop grabbing me!” he shouted, as the other man played deaf.

“While I admit this is a very loud bar, I didn’t think it was quite so easy to mishear what this young man just yelled straight into your ear,” a newcomer who’d witnessed their conflict said lightly as he walked up to them. His words were accompanied by a wide, almost chilling smile. Zhao Zi blinked once and the odd peculiarity of that smile vanished, leaving just a regular smile in its place. He must’ve just been imagining things under the harsh shadows of the dimly lit bar.

AND +2

Because I’m shameless, I’ll add my own two fics to the end, if you’re interested.

WHY R U?

27. Sorry A Thousand Times - Fighter/Tutor - ~3200 words, explicit - This is a canon divergence for the series finale. I needed more catharsis after the intensity of episode 12.

Tutor narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists at his sides. He took a deep breath. “How many times do I have to tell you to leave me alone before you listen?” he asked. I don’t know how many more times I can bring myself to say it.

“Only once,” Fight said and then added, “if you mean it.”

Tutor crossed his arms over his chest and said, “What makes you think I don’t mean it now?”

The corner of Fight’s mouth turned up and he took a step closer. Tutor stumbled back until he was stopped by his legs hitting the edge of the bed. Fight reached out a hand and gently ran the back of his fingers over the line of Tutor’s jaw.

Until We Meet Again

28. Dream On - Win/Team - 8900 words, explicit - Takes place alongside show canon, so that we see how the bed sharing began and how Win and Team’s relationship developed over that year.

“Do you want to do well tomorrow?” Win asked, throwing one of his legs over both of Team’s.

“Yes,” Team said as he did his best to put some space between them on the tiny mattress.

“Then you need to get some sleep. I’m helping.”

“How is this helping?” Team demanded.

“Would you stop…” Win said, shifting closer every time Team pulled away. “Five minutes, Team. Just be still for five minutes, okay?”