#another paper had an account of a man asking an officer why he didn't just let the boys do as they please

[baura-bear]

ok I’ve been ragging on the newsboys but I just read a very sweet article that said “Necessity has made the street boy’s eyes very observant and somehow he always sees the way to help any one out” it goes on to talk about how a newsboy helped a man who was having trouble carrying his parcels. It also talks about a woman who had been away from New York returning, she bought a paper and eagerly asked if they had won the strike (the kid was sad telling her there was only a compromise)

[ghoulangerlee]

silly thing in my Copia/Aether/Dew AU where Copia and Dew are coming home from tour :)

-

"They're due back any moment now," Sister Imperator says as she watches Aether clear the oak desk in Copia's office, collecting and organizing various piles of paperwork as he goes. "Shouldn't you be waiting for them?"

She'd come a long way since the beginning, since the brothers' deaths and the near uprising that Copia had caused early on as Papa, so new to everything after Nihil's sudden death.

Aether likes to think that, since he'd stayed behind this time to take on more administrative duties, they've grown close—the mother to his lover and he, one of her son's ghoul lovers.

Her fondness for Dew had been easy, despite his sometimes prickly exterior, he'd always treated her with respect, some admiration for the way she ran the church, even if her way didn't always sit right with Copia—and if there was one way to get in Sister Imperator's good graces it was to treat her respectfully and follow orders.

Aether, surprisingly, had clashed with her more than anyone expected, but he'd been privy to too many nights of Copia not thinking he was enough of a man, enough of anything to stand in the same spotlight as Nihil's offspring, and whether she had meant to or not, Sister had been the cause of many of his sleepless nights, working himself to the bone just to make her proud.

When he has ascended and stepped into place as Papa, he'd very quickly put a stop to the Clergy meddling in his affairs, there'd been a blowout of sorts, between Copia and Sister that had ended in a lot of angry words and (in Copia's case) an ultimatum.

Aether wasn't sure exactly when or how things had turned, or when Sister had started seeing Copia as Papa and not as her awkward Cardinal son, but when she did, things got better.

Not perfect, but better.

Aether sorts a pile of papers into the out box on the desk, knowing that after a good night's sleep, Copia would be back to it bright and early the next day—the least he could do after spending the last few months fielding all of the Treasurer paperwork was make sure the finished things were properly accounted for.

"Dew texted and said that they're held up in some traffic. They'll be arriving late."

Sister hums to herself, standing by the window facing out to the courtyard.

It's quiet for a bit then, except for the occasional shuffle of papers and Aether's low humming as he moves and eventually, once he's finished with the desk, he moves on to straightening the rest of the office, smoothing out the wrinkles on the blanket across the back of the couch, straightening the cushions that Sunshine would constantly move when she was in the office with him.

"My son's agreement to retire feels...too easy, after everything." Sister says after a few moments, her words are a little stilted, careful like she's not sure why she's voicing her thoughts. "He raised so much fuss when he was asked to retire before, and now..." She trails off meaningfully.

Aether hums softly as he straightens some of the books on one of the bookshelves, "I didn't have anything to do with his decision, if that's what you're hinting." He says, glancing over at her from the corner of his eye. "Neither did Dew."

"Has he told you why?" She asks hesitantly.

"He's tired," Aether says simply, "Touring takes a lot out of a person. He may not be fully human but he is still somewhat. Nearly two hundred shows for one cycle..." He trails off with a shrug. "He knows he can do more here at the church. It's why he fought so hard for..." He trails off, glancing over at her again. "That's why he fought so hard to lead the church."

Sister has a sort of severe look on her face, thoughtful, "That's why he was promised my position." She fills in for him, saying what Aether had been thinking.

"You're the one going into retirement," Aether says with another shrug, finally finished with straightening things, the office as tidy as it'll ever be. "How does that feel?"

It's quiet again, and Aether leaves it, not wanting to push this tentative truce that the two of them have, Copia may be a grown man, but Aether has seen the lengths that Sister will go to to protect him.

His phone chimes softly, saving him from too much awkwardness, "Looks like they're arriving now," he says, typing out a reply to Dew before pocketing his phone. "Shall we go greet them?"

Sister moves away from the window, the severe look on her face melting into something softer, fonder, at the prospect of seeing her son again—she motions Aether ahead of her and the two of them leave the office together, heading out of the Administrative wing together.

"I'd like to go to the beach," Sister finally says as they're crossing through another wing, the excitement of the siblings and other ghouls buzzing around them as the arrival of Papa and his ghouls imminent. "Mr. Saltarian has offered me use of his beach house after this." She adds, "A vacation, low stakes, could be nice for a change."

Aether smiles a little at that, at her attempt at opening up to him, she is trying, so he offers, "And what about Papa Nihil?"

Sister scoffs a little, there's something fond on her face but it disappears quickly, "I think it's time for him to rest now. The era of the middle ages is...over." she looks over at Aether for a moment, contemplative, "I think it's time for the bloodline to come to an end. A new era where the successor is chosen by the predecessor but not because of bloodlines or other arbitrary means."

Aether laughs then, eyes crinkling in the corners, "Ah, so Copia's given you the speech then." He says, "I was wondering when he'd come to you about it."

"He has," she answers, a certain fondness on her face that's only present when she talks about Copia. "The church will be in good hands with him leading."

Aether hums, "It will." He agrees easily and then they're at the front doors of the church, and already Aether can hear the loud voices of the siblings gathered to greet Papa and the ghouls, the crunch of tires coming up the gravel road leading to the church.

"Well, shall we welcome them home?" Sister asks, motioning towards the door.

Aether nods, pushing open the door just as the top of the bus comes into view.

[zipperzoo]

FIGHT TO MAKE IT UP

The Batman (2022) bruce wayne x f!reader Word count: - 2259 Masterlist / AO3 / Playlist Themes: Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Crime Family, Thriller, Nior, Heist, Action, Comedy, Crime. A/N: howdy! I took a um a hiatus HA- I needed a break due to life stuff but I really wanna finish this! and I did some research into stuff >.>

Chapter Eight:

Helping solve the crime you’d need many of these, a particular way of viewing things to bring justice to its knees

“Name?” “Oliver Caddel” “Okay Oliver, Occupation?”

“Circus staff… Is this going to take long?” He murmured, scratching his jaw with his thumb.

Rubbing his eyes, Exhausted already. Gordon pressed on. “Could you describe the events that took place here- what did you see or hear?”

Seated inside one of the many tents around the outskirts of the crime scene, outstretched a long line of partially injured civilians. Witnesses holding papers. Awaiting their turn to share their own statements of their experiences. 

Unkempt appearances could already tell their own personal experiences of the night. Injuries as well as haunting distant empty stares into space. Lined up one by one behind one another. There was no discrimination of person, the victims were diverse among age, gender and race.

In an attempt to evacuate the camp site of the circus that was now taped off to the public while forensic officers would use their magic along with the help of the 'CID' (Criminal Investigation Department). It didn't stop news anchors or news broadcasters from attempting to get in through sky or ground for any latest scoop or raw footage of the damage. 

Swirling around, capturing the long queues and the smoke trailing up above the main tent into a cloud of green and yellow mystery gas that just settled.

The tent that Gordon sat in, was small, cramped practically and opposite him was a singular witness who was nervous, worse for wear. 

Oliver was the tenth or maybe the eleventh witness that Gordon had spoken too so far, and all he had to show for it was either vague descriptions of evocative unique descriptions per person of the events. Nothing was the same, they were all like different accounts of different events stitched together. Making a hazy similarities.

Nothing was drawing him closer to any answers to why, why this circus, why these people, why this specific method and importantly who would have the motive? What was the motive?

Was it a display of power? 

Was it just so they could? 

Was it a test? Was it a test? 

What was the reason?

What is that mysterious gas?

“I wasn't inside the tent when It happened, I was… around.” The hesitation in his voice caused Gordon to drop the pen he held. 

“Around?”

“You know, like around the tent.”

“But not inside?”

“No.”

“What part of the team did you work a part of?” With a deep sigh through his nose, Gordon picked his pen back up and jotted down everything the witness was sharing onto his witness form. Maybe this should have been something for Rivers to work on. Gordon wasn't getting anywhere and some fresh eyes on this would actually get him somewhere. He was beginning to regret putting them on the Wayne tower case.

That case feels like a distant dream now.

I worked on the electrics, ya know the lights. To make sure everything was-” “Hmm hm-” Gordon cut him off, lacing his hum with attitude. He knew what a tech did, he didn't need a recap. He just wanted to know what the man's experience of the evening was. “-I had a hard time focusing but when I finally did they were red, beet red i mean red!!”

Looking up at the witness through his brows, stopping his notes for a second Gordon asked “What was? The lights?”

“Like the worst sunburn you’ve ever seen!”

“Yes I’ve gotten the colour- what exactly was red though?”

Oliver’s face scrunched up, trying to recall exactly what then realization washed over him. His face stretched as his brows frowned. His gears were moving and Gordon was captivated by it. 

Then, as if an alarm went off in his mind, he shot up and looked at Gordon, confused. “I’m sorry, what was the question again?” “You said something was red?”

“Hm? I’m sorry I-” He paused, looking down at his lap “I don't really remember?”

Leaning back on his chair, pushing aside the witness form which was half way filled in. Gordon looked at the witness. This was getting nowhere. Again they all had different descriptions of the events that might as well have been about different incidents.

One witness stated she was in the middle of an airplane on fire and about to crash, she remembered running through the cabins when pieces of the walls flew off. Vacuuming out civilians on the flight with her to then find herself standing in the middle of a field having others crash into her, fleeing. 

Another stated he lost the ability to speak while everyones face morphed into empty sockets. His instinct was to fight back. Upon the realization that he could have very possibly hurt someone made him hysterical and had to be escorted out by officers.

Moving things along, Gordon quickly signed off the sheet, shuffling it to the growing pile beside him. If anything was to come from this maybe one hell of a book with all these testimonies. Some of these would make one hell of a horror novel.

“That's alright.” Gordon spoke. “We’re done, could you let in the next person in the line?” 

Without a word, the witness Oliver pushed back his chair to then exit, letting the next person in through the tent’s flimsy waterproof door. 

The next witness meekly made her way to the chair opposite Gordon. She looked extremely exhausted, eyebags fresh and sharp. Her hair knotted and fried. She was cradling her arm which was in a sling. “Name?” “Is this going to take long?” “It depends on the information you’ll be able to provide- name?” Gordon licked his thumb to then pluck a fresh form from the immaculate pile besides the ruffled one. “Abigail Williams. But I’m known as Dizzy on the staff”

“Okay, Dizzy, Occupation?” when pronouncing her nickname, he raised his eyebrows. Wasn't the first one of the evening preferring their stage name he heard. He had jotted down her name with Dizzy alongside it in quotation marks.

“Circus staff. I work closely with the performers.”

“So you were inside the tent?”

“I didn't know where I was or what time it was, let alone what was happening.”

“Could you try.” He leaned back on his chair, the wood squeaked under his weight. He had nothing but time right now. 

It's all he could really do. 

By the books he had nothing but time.

A very uneasy nod bloomed from her still state. Dropping her arm that cradled her sling to her lap, to then fiddle around with nervousness, an attempt to try and jog her foggy memory of a very traumatizing evening.

“I remember just my body feeling a sense of urgency, like something wasn't right. And the smell mostly.”

“A smell?”

“Um- A very sweet smell, kind of like honeysuckle-like?” she scrunched her brows together. “Yeah! Honeysuckle! Like a flower but it was kind of sour, burning at the back of the nose.”

Gordon pulled his eyes away from her to jot down exactly what she was saying. Pulling out a notebook from his pocket, completely separate from any of the paperwork scattered on the makeshift table.

Taking note, he scribbled ‘Honeysuckle smell- sour???’ 

“Then um.”

“Then what?”

Looking down, frowning, trying my best to remember. “I… I remember- oh god.” she gasped covering her mouth, panic eroded as she looked up at Gordon with a sudden realization. “Are the Grayson's okay?”

“The Grayson's?”

“The Grayson's?! The performers of the circus. They were the leading performers and they are a family. Two parents and one child. But I saw- I swear on my life I saw the two fall and crash into the ground.”

“Fall and crash like-”

“Like, fall and crash! Falling to the ground and just kind of a thud.” Lowing her hand revealing her mouth agape, worry lines forming beside it. “Then after that I- I just remember like everyone acting frantic and not normal.”

“Wait, you mentioned a child? Was the child a part of the two bodies you saw?”

“Huh? No, oh god no? The child wasn't there. I have no idea where the child was.”

“Did you see the child before or after the incident?”

“Uh.” her eyes frantically moving around the room, searching. “I haven't seen him since maybe this morning? With his parents? Besides that-” she shook her head.

“So the child wasn't there at the show?”

She pulled a face and shook her head again. “He was planning to be there but he wasn't. I just assumed it was a last minute change? Is… Is he not with the officers?”

“What's the child's name?”

“Dick Grayson.”

A moment Gordon’s thoughts raced, staring at Dizzy the Witness to then suddenly reach over the messy pile of paperwork flipping through all of them. Looking for any witnesses that matched the name of the child. Flipping through once, nothing. He blinked then flipped through again.

He hadn’t spoken to a Dick Grayson.

“Does the child have a stage name? What's his description?”

“Um, short boy. Dark hair, kind of an innocent look but he has a know it all attitude of sorts- Hard to miss.” She shifted in the chair slightly. “I’m sorry, is the questioning over?-” She asked, cocking her head with an inquisitive brow, concerned.

Dropping the paper he was holding, he scooted out of his chair. “Excuse me for a moment.” Swinging around the table to then dash out of the tent, leaving her there, turning around to look at the exit where he left. Confused.

Welcomed by harsh on sight lighting of the powerful The Nomad tripod lights scattered across the field illuminating the field. Gordon was momentarily blinded. 

Blinking, adjusting his eyes to the lighting, he looked at the long line of witnesses.

Gordon turned to the first person in front of him who was covered head to toe in mud and blood- no clue where the source of the bleeding was from or if it was even their blood. “Where's the officers?”

The person stared hard at Gordon, startled by Gordons urgency. Shaking their head frantically to then turn to the person next to them. They too shook their heads.

They didn't know where they could be.

With a huff, Gordon looked around. Police standing by taped off areas bantering among themselves, one even laughing. Several forensic teams built recreational mysterious tools, while others carried bags of evidence. 

Even several paramedic teams were attending to some civilians close by. 

Gordon Marched towards the police Officers.

Grabbing an officer by the shoulder, turning him to Gordons attention. “I need you to locate a child for me, goes by the name Dick Grayson.”

“Sir?”

“It's urgent.”

One of the officers laughed, “Good luck with that.”

“You think this is funny?”

The officer coughed, changing his entire demeanour. “No sir.” he panicked.

“Dick Grayson, A young boy- meant to be one of the events mainline acts with the parents. Any information on him?”

“Dick Greyson? Yeah the kid, he is on the missing list.” 

Gordon frowned in response. The officer looked to his colleagues to then pull up a clipboard of names that had red dashes next to them. 

Below two dashes that were two Greyson's was a Dick Greyson that had a blank space.

“We are still searching the wreckage, there are alot of bodies sir but so far from what we have accounted for, no Dick Greyson has been found that we can formally account for. He is either dead or missing.”

“The red marks?” Gordon pointed at the clipboard. “What do the red marks mean?”

“Deceased. His parents have been identified. But again-” The words failed to leave the officer, he didn't need to say anything; it was in between the words he had spoken.

Gordon ran a hand down his face. A defeated sigh slipped through his tired lips. 

There was no doubt about it that there was an ever growing number of missing people and children. But to know one thing was out of place before the actual events could be a crucial key to this mystery.

Cutting short the brief haunting thought of a child and his parents- A crowd of people started running, dashing out of the way to either side. 

The officers by Gordon jumped besides him, all turning their attention towards a loud pipe like noise that was vastly approaching.

With mud flying it was hard to make out what was heading their way. Gordon took a few dragged steps back and squinted, hoping to focus on any details betrayed between the specks of mud flying.

He saw the red lights of a vehicle flooding the field and painted the tents with its harsh light. 

A monster that looked like a car screamed life so much so that a few civilians flinched and cowered.

Slowing down as it spun around to turn then coming to a halt.

The engine dying down like a beast just suddenly being tamed to rest. 

Steam coming from its exhaust fogging the ground. Tendrils of smoke swarming around the site, invading the tents. Entrapping the residents who stood idle in its mist.

Bursting open the steel doors from the vehicle, black boots emerge from its inner shadow.

A tall dark figure lurked out, with its piercing blue eyes looming over the people that stood around him and his beast. 

A watchful gargoyle that breathed life as his chest heaved with vengeance as his eyes met with Gordons.

A few heads turn to face Gordon, with fear residing in their expressions.

“Batman.” Gordon whispered, relieved. “Finally.”

[antigonewinchester]

ooh share something about hesitation or triptych? <3

I will self-indulgently to do both <3

Hesitation but IC is inspired by a Destiel fic called, surprise surprise, Hesitation, written by apokteino, who I think was a fairly prominent fic writer back in the day? She had a series of dark Destiel fics, including Hesitation, the Bone series, the When series, and most infamously With Understanding. I find her work interesting intellectually, in her focus on exploring questions around sexual violence, relationships formed under duress, and the complexities of perpetrators & victims & their dynamics, but it feels like she maps her ideas onto SPN rather than centering canon characterizations or dynamics (at least in my read of the show/characters).

So, I decided to try my hand at a fic with the same premise but more in line with canon, particularly taking into account Cas's control/power over Dean in S4 (and which I don't feel is negated just because of Cas's sexual inexperience, altho it does add some complexity) and Dean's full experience in Hell. Part 1 is from Dean’s POV and Part 2, which I’m currently working on, is from Cas’s:

“You told me Dean wanted to have sex with me. He did, and then he didn’t.” Zachariah and he are sitting at a bar in New York, the city. It’s night, but he can’t see any stars, only the glowing of offices and apartments and advertisements against the sky. One large, flashing sign reads: Open Happiness. The moon is a cut of pure white. The humans around them talk and whisper, blissfully ignorant of the angels and the war they’re fighting to protect them. Their breath forms clouds that rise to disappear into the dark. All are dressed in what he believes are fancy clothes, long flowing red fabrics and unwrinkled suits of black, but he’s no longer sure how much he knows about humanity. Zachariah shrugs. “Humans say they want one thing, then do another, and Dean Winchester is no exception. This is why they need Heaven’s hand, Castiel.” The woman sitting to his left laughs. The man she’s talking with has taken her palm and put it up against his. Her fingernails had been carefully painted in stripes of white and black.

Triptych is sort of the opposite end of the spectrum, in that it’s my attempt at a Dean/Jack fic after looking on AO3 and finding... 2 decent fics of the whole bunch.

I started out as just wanting to do Dean/Jack during S14, but its slowly turned into Dean/Jack in the aftermath of Dean/John, probably in part 'cause I started writing it in the midst of Utena rewatch, which all about memories & cycles & incest & eternity (and then when I got to the part of S14 where Dean suggested locking himself in a coffin for eternity to save the world...) I was also struck by a post of someone discussing a common Utena interpretation that one character didn't actually want to sleep with her brother, but the poster asked if she did, would that desire negate any harm? Does wanting something "bad" mean you can't be hurt by it? If a relationship was both meaningful & hurts you, how do those elements go together?

Got a bit stalled out on this one because Holy Shit the emotional complexities here, and I want to handle it respectfully? Not be gauche? My plan is to have it all lead up to 14x20 and Thee Dean Jack Moment, re-contextualizing it within the scope of my fic, but I'm still figuring out what it all... adds up to, I suppose. (Also that I'm bad at writing character being mean, and Dean has to be mean in this fic, at least for parts of it!)

Heaven turned out to be the world’s best movie night: his favorite memories playing over and over and over again. The road trip where Sam introduced him to Harry Potter and Dean taught him how to read a paper map. He could rewind and play through his favorite five minutes as many times as he wanted. He could make everything faster or slower, which was funny for a little while, but he stopped after it got weird, like when he repeated a word too much and suddenly something would change and it wouldn’t be a real word anymore, just meaningless sounds. He could change from memory to memory in an instant, if he really wanted, but mostly he liked to let them play out before he moved onto another. And once he got to end, it was back to the beginning: a conversation trailed off or a lesson finished and then he was back at the start, to Cas’s reassuring smile, telling him about mistakes and guilt and forgiveness, or Sam’s bright concern, telling him how to take a punch, or Dean’s warm hand on his back, telling him where north was. The one thing he couldn’t do was imagine anything new. He tried, at first, in the memory of that day with Dean, how their conversation at the river could have gone—Dean’s voice low as he’d whispered, “Come here,” and then—and then—but it never worked. Guiltily he’d moved onto other memories, and at least they were too the same: if he'd ordered a hot dog, all he could eat is a hot dog; if Sam and Dean had driven past the apple orchard on a hunt, there was no turning down the short dirt road to pick fruit instead.

[fakeoldmanfucker]

oh i'd love to hear about the reason why you side with zuck 100% in the whole saverin and zuck story since i don't have access to the book you mentioned too, i know zuck said sth about saverin didn't do his job right and postponed signing papers or sth which harm facebook development and zuck did talk to moskovitz about diluting saverin shares, unlike the film, i haven't read the book ben merzich wrote about facebook with saverin cosultant yet (i have limited english reading comprehension) so idk how much of its content was in the film, but still saverin should thank the film for white-washing his image because people really think zuck was always the bad guy but in reality it just made him (saverin) look like a petty person because without him facebook would still do fine and till today his biggest achievement is still facebook co-founder lol, i think people who really like eduardo in film should not search about what happened irl because yeah it would taint your image of him 😂 i have to distinguish between the film and irl version by using first name (for film) and last name (for irl) sorry for rambling again, thanks in advance if you reply this ask!

"saverin didn't do his job right" oh that is certainly one way of putting it lmao

A more accurate representation would be that Saverin got way too power-hungry for his own good and basically froze Facebook's assets. That scene in The Social Network where Eduardo freezes the account, prompting Mark to call him, implying that the account was only frozen for a little while? In reality, that lasted for months. It was a stand-off between Saverin, who wanted more stake in the company and more power, even though he was barely helping the company and was on the east coast, and Mark, who was working on Facebook 24/7. Saverin didn't just want more power, he wanted to be CEO. This from a man who had only been to the offices a few times, and when he did do something for Facebook, he usually called his dad first to ask what he should do. No I'm not even exaggerating; that's where a lot of the delays came from. I think Mark, and the rest of the team, thought Saverin was immature; they were going all-in on this company, and Saverin was working at an internship (no he didn't quit it like they say in the film) all the way across the country and wouldn't respond to Mark's emails for days or weeks at a time.

Another thing that strikes me as funny is that, if Saverin had been a little less power-hungry, more willing to compromise and be a team player, he could've succeeded in the company. Chris Hughes went back to Harvard after that first summer, but he still stayed close to the team and, by the time of his senior year, was flying out to the west coast every two weeks. Saverin could've had both, if he'd been a little bit more patient. But instead he went for an unstable grab at CEO (truly, I Truly cannot comprehend what he was thinking, it is so phenomenally stupid), and Mark froze him out. Saverin hadn't been contributing to the company! When Saverin froze the account, Mark (as well as Dustin) had to take out loans just to keep the lights on, literally. During a time when the servers going down would've been instant death for the company...I think Mark's reaction was justified.

The craziest thing to me is...Saverin doesn't even need to rest on his laurels. Sure, Facebook will be the biggest thing he's ever been a part of, but his venture capital firm B Capital isn't doing too badly! They have offices all over the world and they're investing in a ton of different sectors. He doesn't need to keep returning to Facebook, and yet he does.

I love film-Eduardo as much as the next person. He's a really compelling character and Andrew Garfield brings a lot of life to him. I just think the film gives Saverin too much credit.

I will say, however, that Mark has definitely retroactively tried to write out Saverin from having any part in the founding of Facebook, when it's obvious to me that at one point they were really friends and Mark did really trust him. There's an account of someone talking to Zuckerberg and Saverin in the summer of 2003 about a website/company they were planning, which would become Facebook. (Note, this is before facemash or ConnectU/the Winklevii, and before Mark had even met Dustin; Mark had been planning something like Facebook for at least several months before he actively started working on it in early 2004.) I don't think Mark was ever as close to Saverin as he was with, say, Adam D'Angelo or, later, Dustin Moskovitz, but there was a genuine partnership there.

Note: I would say read The Accidental Billionaires with caution; it's almost entirely informed by Saverin's account, and while I think it's good to get that perspective, it is very biased. If you want a personal narrative about Facebook, though one taking place a little bit after the founding, I would point you to The Boy Kings by Katherine Losse. This one still has bias, because Kate worked at Facebook and has her own views on things, but she has a little bit more perspective than someone so closely wrapped up in the dynamics.

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Courtside (Part 2): Ran Haitani x Fem!Reader

synopsis: Part 1

wc: 1.2k

tw: NSFW

masterlist

song recommendation:

"New uniforms?"

Your vice-captain, Muna, is already wrist-deep in the cardboard box, pulling out the mass of tops, track pants, sweatshirts, and performance wear. And you're watching from your office, phone in hand.

"I took the opportunity to buy a few things you all might need for the season. It's getting really chilly, and I'd hate for any of you to catch a cold."

"Y/n! Come look!"

"You're doing a lot, Mr. Hatani," you reply to the man on the phone, ignoring your teammates. "But you're still suspicious to me."

A sigh. "I'd hoped you might have set that aside in light of all of the gifts I've been bestowing upon you." The chuckle on the end of the line makes you a little angry, but you set it aside in favor of a teasing jab.

"Men who buy women an excess of gifts tend to be overcompensating for the lack of... well, you already know." You wait for the insult to sink in, then murmur, "Have a good day, Mr. Haitani." You hang up the phone, smirking to yourself in triumph.

But when the invitation to dinner lands on your dressing room table three days later, it's apparent your tactics to figure out Ran Haitani aren't working.

Y/n,

Svalbard's after practice tonight?

Go to Neiman's and get something nice to wear. Here's my account number: 4682xxxxxxxx.

R.H.

Your lips press together immediately, trying to avoid the obvious sign of uncertainty from the other girls who are filing into the dressing room behind you.

"What's this?" Muna wonders, peeking over your shoulder at the creme paper and black handwriting. "A note?"

"Nothing," you grumble, trying to tuck it away into your duffle bag.

"Doesn't look like nothing," another girl replies, taking the note out of your hand quickly. "'Y/n, Svalbard's after practice tonight?'" she echoes, back to you as you try to pry the paper out of her hands. It's caught the attention of everyone else in the room, much to your dismay.

"Hey!" You grunt, jumping for the paper as she hands it to someone else, the girl chuckling as she reads.

"Go to Neiman's and get something nice to wear. Here's my accou..." She drifts off, eyes widening at the numbers in surprise. "R. H."

You finally snatch the item back, cheeks flushed from embarrassment and the energy you had to exert to get it back.

"Who is R.H?"

Muna already knows who it is - or at least one of the possible suspects - and her face smoothes out into a look of understanding almost immediately.

"It's a prank from the basketball players, I'm sure," she mutters, shaking her head. "They always do shit like this right before off-season."

_____________________________________________________________

Good food.

Good wine.

Better conversation.

You have to admit, Ran wined and dined his interests very well. So well that you didn't realize you were drunk until you slid into the Cadillac. And you - ever the fool - fell right into his la... uh, his trap.

"Y/n," Ran breathes, smiling into your neck that's dotted with expensive perfume. "You got a stylist to help you with the dress, didn't you?"

"Oh, this?" you giggle, running your hands over your green cowl neck slip dress. "It just called to me."

"Yeah?"

God, why are his lips so perfect?

Why does he talk so sweetly?

Why is he so nice?

"I'm nice because I want to be," Ran replies and it's only then that you realize you asked those questions out loud. "I know you don't trust me fully, so I'll be honest." Ran pulls at his tie, loosening it before pushing his hair back behind his ears. "I think you're beautiful. Not hot, but damn gorgeous. The team means a lot to you, and I want you to be happy." You raise a brow, a smile pulling at your lips. "And I also would very much like to fuck you. If you'll let me, of course."

"So you just want to fuck?" you grunt, leaning back in your seat.

"N-no," Ran blubbers. "Can I fuck you and be your boyfriend?"

Your answer comes later while you're laying on your back, legs around his waist. Ran is drunk, too, you notice. His cheeks are flushed red, and he's sloppily kissing you everywhere.

"Still think I'm overcompensating for something?"

"Oh, fuck..." you whine, letting Ran's cock drill into you sloppily.

"You gonna take back what you said?"

Hands press on your ankles, tugging them up further. Ran's cock reaches even deeper than before, causing your mouth to pop open as you gasp.

"No," you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"No?" Ran pushes your legs down to your chest, taking full advantage of your flexibility. "That's not the word I was hoping to hear."

"Cum-- I'm gonna c--" His cock slides out of you instantly, leaving you on the precipice of an orgasm. "Ran!"

"Take it back, or I'll keep edging you."

Edging? How dare he--

"I meant what I said," you grit out, still reeling. Ran presses himself back into you, rubbing your clit and chuckling.

"I have all night, then."

By the third time he's edged you to your peak, you're shaking furiously, trying to keep your tears at bay.

"Just say 'I was wrong," Ran murmurs, his short hair tickling your forehead as he leans over you. "I'll forgive you and give you exactly what you need, baby."

"I..." You try the words out on your lips. "I was..."

"Go on, sweetheart," Ran urges you, tongue darting out to lick at your nipple deviously. "Finish it for me."

"I was..."

"You were...?"

"I was wrong," you whisper, and Ran's hands scoop under your hips, bringing you up to a sitting position in his lap, facing his purple eyes. They're flecked with mischief and amusement, and you look away, hands on his shoulders.

"That's all you had to say, y/n." He lifts you up a little, then nudges his cock past your slick folds for the fourth time.

"Fuck me," you breathe, sliding your hands up to his face as his hips meet yours. "Fuck me, Haitani." Your ass jiggles in his grip, breasts rubbing on his chest as you kiss him and rock back and forth on his length. It's the most pleasurable feeling, you note, to deny yourself something and then get it after a long wait.

That must be how he feels right now, too.

Ran's mouth opens to let out a soft moan, and you echo his sound eagerly, your slick making a wet sound while you ride him.

"Yeah... yeah, yeah..." Ran groans as you lean your head back, finally able to let go and cum for the first time all night. The shudder rips through you like an earthquake, raising goosebumps and shivers down your spine after your walls constrict around him rapidly. ran's balls hitch underneath you, and he smashes his lips to yours, holding you close as he cums inside of you.

When his cum is deep inside of you and you're laid across the bed, limp, Ran cleans you up with a towel, then climbs into the sheets beside you, pulling you against his tattooed chest.

"Felt good?"

"Mmm-hmm..." you exhale, eyes slowly drifting closed.

"Let me know if you want more. In the meantime, I'd like to take you out on another date. Is that alright with you?"

"Mmm-hmm." You wrap your arms around his torso, nestling into his heat. "Sounds like a plan." You're already halfway off to dreamland when Ran kisses you on the forehead, lacing his arm around you and inhaling the expensive perfume on your neck one last time before falling asleep there.

[say-narry]

Note: English isn’t my first language. Hope you all like it. Please, give me your opinion with a reblog, fav or a note in my askbox :)

pairing: Louis!peaky blinders era x reader

warnings: explicit sex, unprotected sex (don't do that!), curse words, daddy kink, overstimulation, dirt talk, mention of jealousy, mention of astrology.

Words: 4k

talk with me | masterlist

Astrology

In my spare time I loved to read about astrology. It was a habit I adhered to since I was a teenager and now as an adult, it was my secret cringe.

So many times, the things described there met the personality traits of someone I knew and that made me believe it even more.

Sure, there were some holes in the script, but I had been in this world forever, so I just ignored that and kept it as a supposed truth and that was only affirmed when I met Louis.

Friends in common, I liked the way his accent sounded, a few drinks here and there, we shared the lighter to light the cigarette and ended up kissing at the end of the party at Calvin's house.

That was a year ago now.

I already knew all his quirks and as Louis lived more at my place than at his mansion here in London, he had to follow my rules, which was a little difficult even though he is Capricorn. Lately it was complicated to deal with him, because he seemed to ignore me and my weekly horoscope had already said that my relationship would be shaken by the smallest things and that I should be careful.

"Babe, don't leave your shoes like that. I already asked for them!" I complained as I placed our shoes side by side by the door. This was one of his manners that annoyed me deeply. "My friends will be here soon!"

"Nah." he muttered, not even looking at me.

I snorted and rolled my eyes, going to check the cheese and chocolate fondue I was preparing.

My friends Peter, Anne, Sam and Paul were coming over for happy hour. I am on vacation at work, an accounting office, so this is a perfect opportunity to hear what's new.

"Babe, is there any way to go to that grocery store down the street? I forgot that Anne has a gluten allergy and forgot to buy the gluten-free bagel." I stirred the melted cheese in the small pot on the stove.

No response from Louis.

Because my house is small, there's no way he couldn't hear me. I stretched my body back a little and in my half vision through the door, I could see that Louis was still concentrating on the smartphone game while gnawing on the corner of his left thumb.

I took another deep breath, it seemed that Louis became a child watching the games on the device and this was another flaw of his sign's characteristic, however I knew he was loyal and domineering, which eventually gave me an idea.

I turned off the stove and wrapped the fondues, putting them in the electric oven in warm-up mode so that they would not cool down.

My friends would arrive in half an hour, it was time to put my idea into practice.

I grabbed my purse, checked the pounds in my wallet, put on a sweatshirt and ran to the door.

"Luv, where are you going?" Louis asked without looking at me.

"Grocery store, babe." I put on my moccasins and closed the door.

It was dusk and for a change London was cold, for as soon as I passed the small gate in my driveway I sped to the grocery store.

As luck would have it, I found the guys a few meters from my house and ran to hug them.

"How are you, Y/N?" Sam, the blond girl with freckles and green eyes asked me as she released me from her hug.

"Fine! But I need a little help from all of you, specifically you, Paul and Anne." I pointed to them, who were inches away from me.

My couple of friends looked at me, Paul was a tall man with blue eyes, a muscular body and a beard. He was dating Anne, a tall, beautiful black woman with curly hair and honey-brown eyes with a mouth to envy.

"What happened?" Anne asked.

I explained to them that Louis seemed to be ignoring me as if I was just someone else working for him, but that he was the dominating type and so I wanted to tease him and see if we should continue with this relationship or if he was just distracted.

"I swear it won't go any further than that, I love Louis very much but this is killing me." I held the brown paper bag against me.

"Have you tried talking to him?" Peter suggested.

"Louis is a Capricorn, you know how it is. When he focuses on something, that's it." I rolled my eyes.

"That's fine with me, it will be fun watching a music star want to kill me because his wife wants me." Paul grabbed the bag from my hands and winked at me, and we laughed.

"It's fine with me too, you know I find it sexy to see men jealous." Anne winked at Paul, who closed his face, causing us to let out a few more low chuckles.

"I think there's a way we can help too." Sam put his arm around my neck and held Peter by the waist.

I had the best friends in the world.

"He simply came in halfway through the meeting with a huge mark on his neck. Emily wanted to climb the walls!" Peter commented on our co-worker.

We were all sitting on the floor of the room with the creams and fondue mixes on the coffee table. Louis was on my right side with black sweatpants and the jacket I loved so much, Paul was on my left side, next to him was Anne followed by Peter and Sam.

"But we know why Tom's nights out..." Sam looked at me suggestively and then looked at Anne. I straightened up waiting for what was to come.

Louis followed the conversation, sometimes hugging me around the waist and offering me something to eat. I just helped myself to a glass of red wine.

"Why?" Anne asked as if she didn't understand.

"Oh, you know, since the S/N went on vacation he has been gloomy, seems to have forgotten how to do calculations on the spreadsheets, and gets sad at lunchtime." Sam replied, alternating his gaze between Louis and me.

Louis, who was serving himself a piece of bread and cheese, grimaced, but said nothing.

"It's true, we know he's not over it yet."

I had the glass in my mouth trying to hold back the laugh I wanted to give.

"Get over what?" Louis asked me with a frown and I arched my shoulders, pretending not to know what they were referring to.

"Tom is in love with Y/N, Louis. Ever since she came to the office, he only has eyes for her." Anne answered by pouring herself some strawberry slices and pouring the melted chocolate on top. "You know, alluring and attractive men don't get over it so easily when they are dumped by a beautiful woman."

My eyes were watering from holding back tears of laughter. It was funny to imagine this situation, since Tom was a very well married gentleman, father of three children, and would soon be a grandfather.

"I'm going to get some more wine." I pushed myself to get up, because I needed to release the laughter that was stuck in me.

"I'll get it, babe." Paul took the glass from my hand, passing his hand through mine and stood up.

"Oh, thank you Paulie!" I smiled and sat back down.

Louis's face was red, he chewed angrily and stared at me. His blue eyes fixed on me in an uncomfortable way, as if he were reading my thoughts.

"What's up, babe?" I asked as Anne, Sam and Peter talked among themselves, I tried to stroke his face but he turned away.

"Nothing." he nodded, and I narrowed my eyes.

Paul returned with my full glass, I took it and thanked him again. Since I was sitting only on the carpet, I decided to do a little stretching. Purposefully, Paul looked at the open buttons of my black blouse that was thin and skinny long. Unconsciously, it was tighter than I usually wore which highlighted my breasts covered by the bra.

Louis seemed to notice, he huffed and ran his hand through his hair. I just ignored him and pretended to pay attention to my friends' conversation.

I felt his arm going around my shoulders and a few kisses on my neck, and I simply held myself together not to react, but it was so good his affection.

"We were talking about Tom before and now I remembered, can you believe that every day he comes into your office and wipes down your desk and computer?" Sam was sharp in the theater, I just wanted to thank her for that.

"And I'll tell you something else, he takes his shoes off before he comes in. " Peter continued.

Broadway was losing these actors to an accounting office. Louis leaned back on one of the sofas and crossed his arms with a brave expression.

"Tom has always been very nice to me." I commented, swirling the rest of the wine in my glass. "But I don't know..."

"I don't know, Y/N?" Louis spoke a little louder, turning his face abruptly to me.

"Yes, Tom is a nice guy but he is the kind of guy who ignores things I say, he was not organized and sometimes we almost missed deadlines... If he is like that at work, who will say to have a relationship with him."

I drank the rest of the wine and almost saw Louis erupt.

"Nothing beyond that stays between you?" I looked at Sam, who put his hand over his mouth, holding back his laughter, as did Anne, Paul, and Peter.

"Nah. " I repeated Louis' murmur from earlier and repeated his motion, leaning back against the couch behind me.

He ran his fingers through his bangs and chuckled gracelessly, denying it with his head. I narrowed my eyes in surprise at his reaction.

"It's getting late isn't it? Want some help cleaning up, petal?" Paul stroked my arm.

"I'll help my girl, Paulie." Louis imitated my voice when I called him and stared at Paul's hand on my arm, moving his mouth as if he were dissatisfied.

We talked some more, Louis was still silent and crossed his arms, his legs intertwined with each other and swinging rapidly.

I knew that Louis was about to explode, so I said goodbye to the guys who thanked me for the evening. Paul gave me a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. They motioned for me to tell them by text what was going to happen, I silently agreed and closed the door.

Louis had gotten up and was removing things from the coffee table. I started to organize the room and finished taking the last dishes to the sink.

"You and this Tom guy, have you ever had anything?" Louis was sponging one of the dishes. His sleeves were rolled up, which gave me a view of the tattoos on his wrist that I liked so much.

I poured myself the rest of the wine and leaned back against the sink where he was standing.

"We only went out together once." Which was true, but it was with the rest of the office and nothing happened because his wife accompanied us and I saw him as a father or even an uncle. I would stay in my tantrum, yes, he was the one who should end his.

"Hm." Louis answered.

"Why the question?"

Louis remained silent, washing the dishes as if it were the most fun thing in the world.

"Louis? If I asked a question, I want an answer." I said angrily, tired of the tantrum.

He continued in silence. I took a deep breath trying to oxygenate my brain and continued to stare at him.

I drank the rest of the wine and left the glass in the sink. I walked slowly to the door, still trying to remain calm.

"Where are you going?" Louis asked.

I just turned and smiled, raising my two middle fingers in his direction.

"Fuck you!" I shouted nervously, pointing at him.

Without waiting for his response, I headed towards my room, but within three steps I felt something pulling me, two cold, wet hands.

Louis might be shorter than most men, but he still possessed great strength.

In one swift movement, I felt him turn me around and my back hit the wall to my right and my head bounced, causing me to grunt in pain.

Louis pressed his body against mine, my hands went up to push his chest.

"I don't want to talk, Louis." I said annoyed, almost in tears already.

"What's up, luv? Your babe wants to know... "Louis brushed his nose across my neck, soon after caressing my face by turning and pulling it slightly to the opposite side, my eyes automatically closed."What were those teasing things earlier?"

My body stiffened, I couldn't hide anything from him.

"Let go of me. " I asked, still pushing him slightly, but it came out more like a groan.

Louis let out a small laugh and began to distribute wet kisses down my neck, sometimes my body betrayed me and shivered.

Louis's right hand, which previously held my waist, lifted my blouse to gain access to the skin of my belly and with a rush, held my right breast, massaging it lovingly.

"I'm sure my girl is getting wet..." His warm breath hitched against the cartilage of my left ear. "You like to tease me by showing off those luscious breasts, but in the end you're all mine, aren't you?"

I groaned as if in agreement. My hands, which before had been pushing her breasts, had moved to her back, scratching the white fabric.

"Who's my little whore? Hm?" His teeth went to my jaw, scraping it lightly, and then down to my neck where I felt pressure being applied.

Oh, hell! He was marking me.

"I-I-I..." I answered weakly and brushed my crotch against his.

My body arched and I held on to his arms, I could already feel the throbbing in between my legs as they buckled.

"My silly little girl!" He moved a few inches away from me and I opened my eyes, staring at Louis's long lashes in front of his blue orbs that were almost covered by his dilated pupils. "I saw what you did with the whole Tom and Paulie thing."

When I regained consciousness, I bit my lower lip and smiled mischievously, returning my hands to his back.

"What are you going to do about it, stud?" I teased.

Louis's hands went around my waist as he made a point of kissing me fiercely and hotly. My hands grabbed his face, pulling him to me, afraid that he would just stop and leave me there, hot and needy for his touch.

His hands went down to unbutton my jeans and unzip me. I let out a moan in anticipation and I could feel him smile in the middle of the kiss.

Louis pulled away from me and spun me around, placing me face down against the wall.

"Louis..." I moaned softly, thrusting my ass toward him.

I felt his pelvis fit over my ass and his member was already hardening, I tried to make more contact, but his hands on my waist stopped me.

"I know, luv... I want you too." I felt his chest against my back as I closed my eyes and rested my head on the wall and pressed my hands against it, trying to support myself. "I want to feel your pussy squeezing my cock as I fuck you very slowly, because I know you like to feel my cock pulsing in you."

I was already dizzy, biting my lower lip trying to hide my moans, until Louis pulled away and his hands hooked on the hem of my jeans and pulled them down.

"Spread your legs, Darlin'"

I did as he cried out, with a little difficulty because my jeans were still binding my legs and the state of my panties was embarrassing.

His hand slid up and down my ass, and then slapped me with his open hand, which made me jump in surprise.

"My girl doesn't like to be neglected, huh?" Shivers ran through me, my breathing was heavy and my brows furrowed and more slaps came, making my skin burn and my eyes water. "You get needy for my cock when I don't fuck you, don't you?"

In one swift act, my panties were keeping company with my jeans. I pushed my hips even higher, rubbing one leg against the other in an effort to relieve the agony my clit felt.

"Daddy will take care of you, luv!" I heard some noises and then the glorious sensation of Louis's hot tongue running over my pussy.

"Louis!" I moaned loudly and his breath hitched against my exposed intimacy as he let out a laugh. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them even further apart, leaving me wide open for him.

Louis's tongue ran from my sensitive spot to my entrance, sucking and licking. I swayed my hips trying to get closer, but whenever I did he laughed and ran just the tip of it all the way over. My eyes rolled back and a vibration came in the pit of my stomach.

He didn't last long there, but the sound of my wetness clicking on his tongue was something out of reality.

"Babe, please..." My right arm kept pushing against the wall while my left was bent and I massaged my breasts, trying to relieve myself somehow.

"What's wrong, kitten?" Louis groaned and blew against me.

I turned my head to the side and Louis had stood up, taking off his sweatpants along with his underwear and his white jacket, and threw them on the floor beside us.

"Daddy..." I murmured.

Louis' member was hard, and with the glans of his member shiny and pink, his left hand wrapped around it, going up and down slowly. Louis stroked my ass with his free hand, his lower lip was biting and his head eventually fell back as he sighed.

He knew how sexy I found the veins in his hands tensing up and showing as he played with his cock. The tattoos on his wrist added a special touch.

"Lucky for you I want to get it over with, luv... Otherwise you'd have to beg me to fuck you..." He spoke as his cock touched me, dragging and teasing me, making me almost fall to my knees on the floor. "I'm going to fuck your little pussy so hard, babe? I want to hear you moan for the rest of the night, do you want to feel my cock all the way in here?" His finger ran across my entrance, giving me mini shocks in that area.

I mumbled the only sound left in my throat. I turned my face forward and leaned my forehead against the wall. He knew how much I melted for his dirt talk.

My arm against the wall was aching, my forehead was sweaty, and my legs were almost giving way from the way they trembled.

Louis launched himself inside me without warning, burying his wet member until his balls slammed against my clit.

A scream tore through my throat, my nails digging into the wall. Louis didn't even give me time to get used to it, he immediately began thrusting against me. Back and forth, thrusting hard and trying to go all the way in. I was panting as was he, my eyes still closed, enjoying his member filling me.

I turned my face to the side opening my eyes and I could cum right there at the sight, my heart throbbed even more seeing Louis with his nails digging into my hips, his tattooed chest and arms tensed tightly and his head relaxed back with his mouth ajar.

"Fuck!" My eyelids fluttered and I could feel the anguish in my uterus rising.

"My girl is so hot, so warm and tight ... oh!" Louis went down again and if it wasn't for the euphoria, I could feel him almost ripping me in half with his cock slamming against my uterus.

I tilted my head back and one of Louis' hands grabbed my loose hair and formed a sort of ponytail. His hand forced my neck, causing my body to arch and my ass to bulge even more.

My back began to ache as his hipbones crashed against my muscles, he had never caught me this way before and I was already addicted to it. Louis let go of my hair and went back to kneading the sides of my hips.

I put my arm in front of me and bit down on it, feeling my face hit him lightly with the thrusts, my throat aching with the moans, and Louis murmured my name as he tried to sink even deeper inside me.

"Whose pussy is this, babe? Who fucks it hard and the way you like it?" Louis, still not stopping his thrusts, rotated his hips and a wave of ecstasy hit me at the cervix. My pussy clenching rapidly, I was getting there. Louis fucked me so fast that I couldn't even scream.

"You, babe! Only you, Louis!" I spoke softly and felt him kiss me on my back.

"Are you sure, babygirl?" Louis teased and again I felt his chest against my spine.

His cock was halfway out of me and seconds later I was already missing him, which didn't last long as I pushed my hips back against him, burying his cock back into me. I stood on my tiptoes and his member reached the hidden spot that Louis sometimes managed to reach.

"Come on my cock, babe! Because I'm going to mark you, fill you with my milk... Do you want it, my naughty little girl?"

My breath came out of my lungs in a sharp intake of breath. My body exploded inside, shuddering as Louis forced himself to orgasm. Small jolts ran through me, and the ground no longer seemed to be beneath my feet.

My man's nails sank into my skin, his thrusts became sloppy and a loud moan came from Louis' chest, his cock swelled even more inside me and I felt hot spurts fill me, joining my liquid. He groaned loudly and his hands gripped my waist tightly, easing the grip seconds later. Violent trembling came over my knees, causing me to close my eyes in shame as Louis continued inside me and hugged me from behind.

"What's up, Luv? Did I hurt you?" He pushed my hair away from my sweaty, flushed face. Louis kissed the top of my head and I could feel some shocks from the orgasm still being delivered and the delicious feeling of having him inside me.

I nodded positively and then negatively, answering his questions.

"Sorry about the last few days, I was so distracted, thinking about the new album, and then I realized that I didn't do the right thing to the point where my perfect girl insinuated herself to our friend and they talked about some guy at work."

"How did you find out?" I lay my face against the wall, feeling the frosty, chilling cold on my face. I was tired, almost closing my eyes.

"I know you, darlin'... You can't lie, your sign says so."

I covered my face in shame that he knew my shameful secret. Louis pulled his member out of me and already I felt it go limp, Louis tightened his embrace around my buttocks and his arms wrapped around mine, tucking me in.

"Thanks for not giving up on your Capricorn. He'll pay more attention to his girl."

I nodded and turned around, kissing him slowly, feeling his tongue caress mine calmly and tenderly. He was everything to me, giving him up would be the last thing I would ever do.

I pulled away still hugging him and could see his sweaty bangs.

"Thanks for the sex against the wall, it was amazing." I blinked, placing a kiss on his chin.

"Maybe tomorrow you'll rethink it." His face turned into a smile, kissing my cheeks.

I stared at him even longer, not understanding his statement.

"Uh... I may or may not have left some... marks." He gave me his best puppy dog face, squeezed my ass, and kissed my neck lightly.

I rolled my eyes eagerly to see these possible marks.

"All right, they're marks from my Capricorn..." I said, kissing him and jumping on his lap. "But if you ignore me again, you won't have sex against the wall or anywhere else." I shook his shoulder to get his attention and he agreed.

"No more Capricorn stuff!" He promised, raising his right hand.

Astrology thing or not, I loved the guy standing in front of me.

[dreamingmanip]

"MADNESS LOVE"

*GIF NOT MINE* 

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Warnings: None (if I need one let me know in my ask!)

Prompt: NONE

Word Count: 1,860

A/N: Okay, this time I didn’t use any prompt from my board on Pinterest. I came with the idea last night (thanks insomnia), and I thought I could make it in 2 parts. Let me know what do you think in my ask, is always open for you. If you want t, like it and reblog it. Thank you very much! 

A/N 2: I’m gonna pin this imagine so you can easily find it on my page, I will do the same when posting part 2. :)

A/N 3: This awesome gif is from Pinterest but, it comes from Wattpad. Her account is Ariana-Fic and you can find it in her fic “Soldiers in Intelligence”.

Being a cop wasn't easy, putting your life in danger to protect and serve others sometimes wasn't successful. It was 50/50, every morning you will be walking out home not knowing if you could come back.

It had been three weeks without a person in the unit. Detective Jay Halstead had been wounded in a crossfire in a covert operation; when one of you got hurt everyone took responsibility even if it wasn't that way, only for some it was harder to try not to blame yourself for what happened. You had blamed Hailey for not covering Jay enough even though you knew it wasn't her fault, you even avoided her a few days after that. 

She was her partner way long before you were assigned to Intelligence by Sergeant Voight.

Narcotics helped Intelligence in a case; it was your case but somehow their case intertwined with yours at some point, both departments agreed to work to stop the overdoses in the area. You were the best at CO, so it made sense for Sergeant Voight to pick Jay, one of his best undercovers for a purchase. Your skills didn't go unnoticed by anyone in the Intelligence Unit, even for someone with experience like Jay. After the case was over he offered you a spot in his Unit, you doubt it for a moment, you were good in Narcotics, good pay, accumulated vacation days, Voight wasn't known for being a patient person and some co-workers encouraged you to take that step by commenting on how crazy you must be not to accept such an offer. 

You were well received by all, perhaps except for Sergeant Trudy Platt, who didn't like strangers or new people in the district. Jay was among the first to congratulate you when you arrived, for a moment you thought you'd be partners but Voight wouldn't break his dream team, so he paired you with Kevin Atwater, whom you've been entrusting your life and darkest secrets to ever since. 

Atwater was the first one you told about the nights you stayed late with Jay in Molly's, he was the first to know how those late nights became visiting his apartment, to end up arriving together one morning, to the district. He had told you about Voight's rules and how he was firm with them after Jay's last relationship had gone bad with his partner and that had affected his way of working a bit.

Jay and you decided to go slowly, the only one who would know about you two would be Kevin, it was agreed at least, but Hailey Upton was very good at her job so she soon realized what was happening between you. She had supported you, although she did not agree to hide this from her sergeant, she wanted to see her partner happy.

They were all at their desks, doing paperwork on a case they had closed the day before, when Trudy appeared on the stairs.

"Guess who came back from her mandatory break."

You looked up from the papers in front of you to look at a smiling Jay Halstead, who was looking at Trudy with a raised eyebrow.

"Nice to see you too, Trudy."

"Yeah, now try to get away from the bullets for a while, I don't want to have to worry about any of you for a long time."

Kevin and Adam were the first to approach him, joking and patting him on the shoulder. Kim and Hailey were next, giving him a loving hug before heading back to his places. You had stood up to lean against your desk, your arms crossed over your chest, Jay leaned closer, although he kept some distance, the mocking smile still on his lips. You were the first to speak.

"I see you survived, Halstead."

"Hey, don't say it like that, I'm going to think you're not happy to see me alive."

You pressed your lips together so as not to smile because of his comment, it was the game that both played in front of everyone else, the sarcastic comments to pretend that they were not getting along as well as they should. You nodded and looked at him.

"It's good to have you back."

Jay's smile widened and he put his hands on his hips.

"Look at that, you're happy to have me here."

You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair when Voight left his office, leaning against the doorframe.

"How are you Jay?"

Jay nodded his head looking at his boss.

"Good, Sarge."

"Good, because I just hung up with the Superintendent and he wants to acknowledge what you did. Tomorrow there will be a public event, downtown."

You all clapped for a moment, before Voight continued speaking.

"Now try not to die until tomorrow."

Without saying more he returned to his office. Jay went to his desk to catch up on all the overdue paperwork, from time to time you looked up to observe him, you were glad to have him back but the moment you knew about the award, you felt a bitter taste in your mouth. Why were they going to decorate him when he almost died? 

You stood up and went to the coffee room, took one of the cups on the wall and poured yourself some, you still felt that bitter taste in your mouth. You heard footsteps behind you and looked over your shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

Jay asked, taking another cup, reaching for the pot and pouring himself some coffee as well. You leaned a little to look towards the door, checking that no one was around to hear you. You started to get tired of that, checking over your shoulders to see if no one could hear your conversations or whatever you were doing behind closed doors.

“Uhm, yes, I’m just a little tired. We have been in some paperwork duties from a few cases from the past weeks.”

You took a sip from the cup, making a little grin at the taste of the coffee.

“Well, just for the record, I know when something’s bothering you. We have been together almost a year.”

He looked satisfied with himself, and you couldn’t deny it because he was right, Jay knew you so well almost since day one. You looked at him and gave him a little smile, his mood was good after dealing with a grumpy man at his house because he couldn’t get back to work after being shot, and you definitely didn't want to be the one to screw it up. 

Kim walks into the room without realizing the interruption she just made or how you take a little more distance between you two, starts a little chat with Jay and you decide to go back to your desk.

Later, in the locker room, you were finishing picking up some things from your little blue locker, putting them in the gym bag you were carrying that day when Kevin appeared next to you, opening his own locker.

"I don't see you so happy today, you were quiet for most of the day, man you didn't even laugh at Ruzek's nonsense. I thought having Jay back would make you feel better."

You sighed and took a seat on the bench, rubbing your hands over your face before looking at your best friend. You played with your lower lip a bit before speaking.

"Kevin, am I crazy for wanting more in this relationship? I mean, we've worked well without anyone knowing, what difference would it make if we did from the knowledge of Voight, of our friends?"

They both fell silent when an officer entered the room and moments later he left the room, you clenched your fist and struck the cold metal in front of you, you felt frustrated and helpless. Kevin sat next to you, rubbing his hands together as he took his time answering you.

"Y/N, you are a pretty strong woman who knows what she wants, don't let anyone make you feel like you can't, not even some of my friends. If you want, I can talk to him, you know man to man" .

His comment made you laugh a little, releasing a bit of the tension in your chest, you bumped his shoulder with yours, pushing him a little.

"Thanks Kev. I don't think that talk is necessary but I will take it into account for future problems."

"Whenever you need me, girl."

You took your bag, Kevin had helped you lift your spirits but you knew you had to do something with your feelings, for better or for worse. 

Jay was in the kitchen when he heard you arrive, a smile formed on his face as he came out to greet you, an ice cold beer in his hand and a hockey game in the background on television. He walked over to you to kiss your forehead, took your bag and set it aside by the door.

"It took you a little longer than usual to get here, I'm sorry I didn't wait for you. Trudy wanted me to fill out some forms for tomorrow and I left earlier."

You couldn't look at Jay without stopping to think about the consequences that your words would have, you knew about his past and you didn't want to be the evil witch who would ruin what you both had until that day. You settled next to him, resting your head on his chest while he watched the game and he made imaginary shapes on the skin of your arm.

It took you a few minutes before you could form a sentence, your voice lacking the strength you had gathered all the way to his apartment.

"Jay, what if we tell Voight we're together?"

Your voice caught his attention, looking at you completely confused.

"Y/N, we both know that we can't say anything at the moment if we want to continue working in the same unit."

You slowly sat up again, turning a little so you could face him, Jay was sure of what he was saying, it showed in his face and in the confidence with which he had spoken.

"Jay, I'm tired of having to hide from everyone, like what we're doing is wrong. Voight will understand if-"

"I've been through this before Y/N, I know what I'm talking about. I also refused to hide my thing with Erin, but things changed. If we tell this to Voight he will remove someone from the team and we know it will not be me."

You felt the air come out of your lungs, as if someone had hit you, Jay realized his mistake when you stood up, he began to move his head trying to speak, he left the beer on the coffee table trying to take your hand .

"Y/N, it's not what- it's not what I meant ..."

Unaware of your movements, you started to take your things in a frenzy, Jay seemed to be talking to you but you couldn't identify his words or what he was trying to tell you, you just left.

To be continued...

[wornoutmouse]

@midoriyaprofessionalslut

I can't even begin to describe the ask I received so I'm just going to leave screenshots😅😅

Also in the new mha season, I thought Tsu was being petty when she called Mineta Grape-Juice and Shoji Tentacle. But nope, those are their hero names.

Side note: I feel like when Mineta gets old and knows how to work his quirk better, he'll be able to control if they stick or not.

Slight racism, usual smut.

NOT PROOF READ SO LET ME KNOW IF U SEE SOMETHING

 If you imagine Mineta as in the picture above and with a mature voice, this is more enjoyable. Or you can imagine someone else entirely.. Cause even as someone who's tolerant to Mineta I can't imagine him getting any hoes much less smashing (at least not on top). It would be like watching a chiwawa top a mastiff. 

"This is some bullshit." You shuffle through various papers on your desk, each containing the receipts of Pro-Hero Grapejuice's celebratory purchases. Most of it was random appliances that could in no way be used on a day-to-day basis, but there were others….a shiver goes down your spine, there were others that were just downright perverted. "What even is a nub tickler?" 

Being an accountant was something you were good at, the numbers came easy and it was interesting to see the income and ways of business that different people in power displayed. Planning meetings and getting the occasional phone call made everything a breeze, but it wasn't what you wanted to do. Or in better words, this was not whom you wanted to work for. Even being number 6 causes the workload to be higher than should be physically possible in the hero world. That's one of the reasons you never gave praise to the rankings because no matter how low in the chain, a hero’s work is always taxing. 

Shifting in your seat you look at the analog clock on your desk. 3:45, you were supposed to come to work at 5:30 which means you once again have no time to sleep. Having these late nights had increased 10 fold whenever Mineta went up in rank even by a little. His way of celebrating was spending his money carelessly and leaving you to fix the balance. Though you supposed it may be your fault for never objecting when he barged in your office showing his trinkets as well as leaving his credit card.

"Yeah, it's time to go." You muttered as you read the words, "Dwarf Cow in the left lot of Wisconsin."

 The next hour, you take a detour from your office for the first time in months. Heading down the hall you watch the walls go from the pale greys to deep purple and violet splotches splattered along the wall before it inevitably melds into solid purple walls as you get closer to the front door of his office.

Hesitantly you knock on the door and wait until a muffled "Come in." Rings through the thick wood. The room itself was just as flamboyant as the walls leading to it. A beautiful fuchsia carpet on the floor made you realize that calling in your two weeks would have been better than walking into the Willy-Wonka factory that was this office. Various spherical decorations hung from the chandelier, and even something as simple as the legs of his desk was made up of crystal spheres.

The man himself sat perfectly balanced on a large purple ball most likely of his own creation, meanwhile, various children sat around him slipping and sliding on smaller balls in an attempt to copy him. "Ah, here is my beautiful assistant!" The compliment made you cringe as you fiddled with the end of the sleep-wrinkled white blouse you had worn for 2 days straight. "Can we talk sir? It is important." Mineta raised an eyebrow at your formal speech before shrugging. 

In an extravagant display of balance, Mineta does a handstand on the ball with one hand before flipping to the other side. "Well kids it's time for me to get done as a hero’s job is never over and blah blah blah the gift shop is giving out free plushies and you can keep your ball." The teacher does her best to usher out her students and the sound of childish screams resound down the hallway even though the door was shut. "How can I help you Y/n?" Mineta offers you his ball to sit on and you reluctantly take the offer as you grate in multiple directions in order to stay afloat. 

Mineta watches you with hidden interest as he interlocks his hands underneath his chin. "I didn't know you even knew my name?" Mineta Laughs exposing his annoyingly perfect teeth. It was hard to associate this face to the pictures you see when you search for his early years. "Of course I know your name, I stole your nameplate off your desk 2 months ago." Ah, so that's where it went  "What was it you wanted to talk about?"

You sighed, "I would like to put in my two weeks." Mineta goes slack-jawed before composing himself "Why?" Mineta looked at you earnestly, completely confused on why you'd want to abandon your post as his secretary- I mean assistant. "Working for you has become a hassle with your lack of financial maturity." Mineta mock shivers, "Oo big words, me no likey." Mineta hops onto his desk as if he weighed nothing more than paper and squats in front of you, "How about this, you don't quit and instead help me learn how to...how did you say it? Be financially mature." You lean back in your chair unconvinced that he was taking this seriously.

With the final nail ready to be hit, Mineta adds, "How about I give you a raise of 10 percent and a promotion?" You stand up in your chair with an eager grin, "That sounds great!" Mineta smirks to himself but you did not pay any mind to it. "Great, how about we discuss this over food, dinner date?" Your internal celebration screeches to a halt, " Dinner Date-" Mineta looks at you shocked, "Dinner date? Great idea, why didn't I think of it myself!?" A firm hand slides you towards the door as Mineta starts a complimentary speech giving you no room to object, "This is why I need you, you're so smart, I wish I was like you, tomorrow at 11?" You sputter trying to slip past his arms, "11 but I-?!" Mineta loudly gasps again, "There you go doing it again I'm so lucky to have you, tomorrow at 11 my treat!"

The door is shut in your face and the sound of the lock clicking seals your fate. What did you get into?

Cut to 4 years later and you are still not sure of that answer. Simply being bis accountant you had a glimpse of his perverted tendencies, but as his girlfriend, it was further exposed to depths you never could have found yourself imagining. You shuffle papers in the printing room as you do your best to ignore the faint tingling sensation in between your legs. Yet another whim you found yourself following on Mineta’s behalf despite the ever-present fear of being caught. The vibrator comes to life before going back down as quickly as it came. You toss a middle finger to the camera in the top corner of the room knowing he was watching.

"Miss L/n, can I ask you something?" You slap your arm down to your side in embarrassment. I hope he didn't see that.  Your coworker walks up to you holding a small stack of papers. "Yes, how can I help you?" The man shows you various forms as he talks, for once you were thankful for Mineta not embarrassing you in front of others. "Oh I see where you went wrong, this right here would be a 20% increase, not 18%." The man applauded you and graciously wrote down your explanation. "Thank you so much, my name is Kaminari by the way." 

"Ah hello, Kaminari, and no worries I'm always glad to help!" You turn back as your papers finally scan through but can't help notice Kaminari lingering. "Say Y/n?" You open your mouth to respond only to close it again as the vibratory comes back to life strongly. "Hmmm?!" Kaminari peers at you, your reaction was strange but he couldn't figure out why. "Um, never mind, have a nice day Miss. Y/n, maybe we can get together over coffee or something?” You shrug turning away from Kaminari in fear of your eyes rolling up. The man sways from foot to foot awkwardly before leaving the printing room. 

Snapping out of your personal flashback, you look over at your fiance signing autographs for his adoring and objectively feminine fan base. While it was extremely unnerving how unknowingly close they were to your home, you weren't resentful of their gushing.

Your engagement and your overall relationship had not been made public in fear of your personal life being exploited by paparazzi. That doesn't mean, however, the next thing you witness doesn't get your blood boiling.

A girl, no older than maybe 22 waltzes up to Mineta with the confidence of Muhammad Ali in a ring match. Her raven black hair fell flawlessly down her back with not a single split end. Almond eyes decorated with precise coal blink rapidly to draw attention to her seemingly natural eyelashes. With 4 inch wedges. a black halter top, and cuffed jean shorts, it was clear she was someone on a mission. She effortlessly pushes past the nearby fans as they stop to quack at her rivaling beauty. A smirk draws itself with her soft pink lips as she hears people muttering around and about her.

"Wow she's so pretty"

"They would look good together just look at them."

"Ugh, such an attention whore, not giving the rest of us a chance!"

"I bet a 20 she's his type."

"Is she famous?"

The chatter comes to a close as the girl hands Mineta a notebook, "Can you sign right here?" Mineta flips open the book and his eyes widen a fraction before he puts on his heroic voice, "Wow it looks like you got all of Japan's heroes in this book!" The girl smiles as she watches Mineta scratch his signature, "Don't be afraid to leave your number in there too Mr. Minoru." Mineta pauses at the statement for continuing his elaborate handwriting, "I don't think that would be very plus ultra of me so I'm gonna have to pass." Smug pride fills your chest as you watch the annoyance cross the girl's face.

Mineta finishes signing and hands her back her book, she, in turn, forces a small piece of paper in his hand before holding his chin and kissing him. At that moment nothing else mattered but beating that bitches ass as you yanked her black hair and dragged her to the ground. "This ain’t Wattpad bitch get your hands off of him!!" You turn to Mineta making him flinch with a sharp glare as you yank her hair again, hopefully pulling a few strands out. "You just gonna let her kiss you and not do anything!?" Mineta stretched his hands towards you cautiously, "Y/n calm down, if you would have given me a chance I would have settled it-" "No, settle it now!"

Your rage is diminished by the judgmental looks coming from the fans and you realize your brazen display was out of order.

"Who is she"

"I think she's the secretary l, so why is she so mad"

"Delusional just cause you're with him all the time doesn't mean you're together"

"I hope he fires her."

"This is why we shouldn't let them in Japan"

The girl whose hair you have in a chokehold stands up unbalanced before pushing your hands from her hair. Satisfied at the disheveled look of her previously perfect strands, you turn to walk back to Mineta, your anger having been sated, "Black Bitch." You turn around and go charging towards the girl again grinning when she flinches. Your rampage is stopped as Mineta wraps his arms around your waist and picks you up, "Sorry for the disturbance, we deeply apologize!"

It's almost comical how your mouth spews vulgarity that would make a sailor blush as Mineta drags you behind your apartment building. He ushers you through the back door leading to the washroom, "I can't believe she'd do that in front of me, and you let her!" Mineta shuts the door quietly, leaning his ear against it to listen out for any lingering fans. You sit on top of a washer still ranting as your blood cools down. "The nerve of some of these people is outrageous, even if she doesn't know about us that is still sexual harassment!"

Mineta doesn't look at you and instead peeks through the blinds lining the washroom windows. "I think they are gone, come on." The two of you sneak out the door and walk at a moderate speed all the way back to your front door. In hindsight, you knew that causing a scene like that was a bold move on your part. If anyone was recording the whole ordeal you knew Mineta’s name and possibly yours would be in the headlines by later this evening. 

As the last one entering, you lock the door behind you, forehead scrunched together with apprehension. "Mineta I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I just saw her touching you and saw red." You face away from the door with an earnest look on your face. Mineta has a cheeky look on his face that can only mean trouble. Despite your similar slim build and height, Mineta easily corners you against the door. "I know exactly what got into you." Mineta’s pointer finger taps your nose. "Jealousy."

You sighed, putting your head down nodding, "Yeah, it's not that I don't trust you, it's just-" "shhh." Mineta lips your head back up with a hand under your chin. "It's fine Y/n. It's not like I expected a perfect little cocksleeve like you to be okay with sharing." You stare blinkingly at Mineta. 'Oh, he's in one of those moods huh?' As expected from such a fiend like Mineta, he was quite possibly hard the whole time he was watching you beat that girl's ass, and for some reason that irked you even more. “Mineta I’m being serious.” The words leaving your mouth did not phase Mineta, he holds your hips and pulls you close to him in order for you to feel his bulge. 

“Oh come on, after seeing you be so possessive for me, how can you not expect me to be a lil turned on?” Mineta’s hands circle your ass before slapping it, “Made me feel special.” Rolling your eyes you lean into the lingering kisses he begins to leave on your shoulder. His grip tightens as he shuffles you to the nearest surface. “Makes me feel all giddy inside to know that you do this only for me and no one else.” Minoru unbuttons your dress pants and removes your belt, “But doing that in front of all those people was stupid.” A shiver travels up your arms from the feeling of lips caressing your ear. Mineta dips his hand into your cotton panties and immediately draws attention to your clit.

“Look at me, Mineta Minoru with a girl like you that would fight for me. Who would have thought?” You ball your fists on the table, hanging your head low. “You’re not going to make this easy for me are you?” Mineta slips his other hand beneath your blouse to cup your breasts. Short l  rub down your slit collecting your slick. The feeling was warm and buzzing just underneath your skin, the bastard was well trained on how to slowly but surely bring your pleasure to its peak and hold you there. Your muscles begin to feel more and more like jelly, you sigh “Oh God..” Mineta pushed his body further on yours, rutting against your body. Up until now, his other hand was simply resting on your skin but once impatience overcame him, he used it to pull down your pants. 

“You know this will be in articles tomorrow right?” Two fingers curl inside of you making you squeal, “Y-Yes!” Something hard and slick smacks against your bare ass as Mineta removes the bottom half of his hero costume. “So how are you going to compensate me for what I’ll have to deal with tomorrow?” You turn your head to the back with a small pout on your face, “She shouldn’t have touched you.” Mineta coyly smiles before pressing your head down against the table. “You should have let me handle it.” 

Mineta was an average of 5 inches in length with conservative girth. But so far he’s been the only man that really added proof that size doesn’t matter. Mineta pulls away from you and leans down to riffle through his pants. You hear a crisp pop of a cap being opened and a slick splatter is heard afterward. A shaky breath leaves Mineta’s lips as he lubes his cock up. Penetrating is a struggle at first, the longer it takes for him to push it in the more both of you become frustrated until he finally pulls your waist back against himself. “S-So good!” The pleasure causes his childhood lisp to slip through as he waits for you to acclimate to the stretch. 

You shift your feet when Mineta refrains from moving. "Tsk, you really don't understand the meaning of patience do you?" Your hands suddenly become cool to the touch as Mineta covers them with medium sized spheres temporarily gluing you to the table. "Mineta this isn't fair! Please just a little bit to the left!" Now having you helpless Mineta puts one hand on your back while stroking the base of his cock. "It's not about being fair, it is about teaching a sneaky brat like you to know their place." Mineta begins to move but it's not right, he needs to go more to the left, "Mineta what are you even talking about!?!" 

A sigh leaves Mineta's lips, "Don't think I forgot about that slick shit you tried to pull with Kaminari." Mineta watches your ad shake and bounce everytime your hips meet. Your arms twitch and pull at themselves wanting to find purchase on the flat surface. Groans leave your lips as Mineta comes closer to hitting your spot,  "Slick shit?! Y-You're the one that wanted to do that stupid little piano in the first place!" You couldn't see it but Mineta had a deep seated glare on his face. He loops his fingers underneath his yellow scarf and rolls it around long ways. 

"I'm really tierd of your mouth. What you think because I let you beat that girl out their I'll let you beat me?" The middle of the scarf is put in your mouth and your head is pulled back by it. Mineta holds both ends of the scarf to slam into your cunt. "Just a greedy little bitch aren't you?" You scream into the cloth as Minetas cock finally hits your spot just right. The constant pulling on the corner of your mouth burned everytime the fabric rubbed against the sensitive flesh. Your feet rise to your toes in a fruitless attempt at getting a break from the pleasure. Mineta holds his scarf in one hand and pushes down your waist. "Didnt you want this? Don't run from it now."

Your pussy squelched around his cock the faster he went making you go cross eyed. "Fuck you feel so damn good.  The table rattled and scraped across the floor with every thrust. "oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Your nails scraped the table as you closed your fist, had you had claws it would have been a whole different story. You beared down on his cock, trying, begging to feel more inside of your walls as he moved faster. Suddenly your argument fel worth it.

Mineta knew many things about himself. He knew his birthday, he knew where he was in life, and he knew he had come 6 minutes ago and was bordering hysteria as he pumped his overestimated cock into your wet heat. Each drag made years collect in his eyes.  Tiny whimpers left his lips and his hands squeezed your sides harder and hard.  "So fucking warm. Squeezing down on my dick like that." 

He bowed his head and rested on your back,  kissing the sweaty skin as he pushed through the painful pleasure.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Mineta slaps your ass  before pulling out and shoving his fingers inside your pussy. "Cum for me, Y/n. That's it cum on my hands." Mineta's fingers were the only thing that never really grew on him. They were relatively short but thick so even three of them were able to stretch your hole the way you needed. 

"Y-Yes, right there shit!" Your cum drips down his arm soiling the fabric there as you squint around him, "That's it give it to me." Mineta buried his face in your pussy licking you clean like a man starved. It wasn't until you whined did he stop and pull his fingers out. 

Luckily for you, his spheres were just about coming close to their time constraint. You stand up rubbing your wrists and drinking some water Mineta brings you. A snort captures your attention and Mineta holds up his phone, "Not even an hour." Writing in thick bold words read. 

"Obsessive Secretary Snaps on Camera!"

You snort, "I'm the obsessive one huh?" It was going to be a long day tomorrow 

[softsebnbuckystan]

Soul ties - Part 11 (Bucky Barnes au)

"High hopes, when you let it go, go out and start again"

It took Bucky exactly eight minutes to meet you in the kitchen after you'd come back from taking your things at Darren's. He didn't say anything right away, placing a hot cup of fresh coffee in front of you.

"Black, no sugar," he told you.

You smiled softly at that small thing he'd managed to remember about you. Damn, your standards were low.

"How did it go?" he asked as he sat before you.

"Not as bad as I imagined," — you sighed – "even though he still found a way to be a dick."

"I'm sorry."

You shrugged as you held on tight to your cup. "It's not your fault, don't  be."

"I kinda feel responsible, though."

You took a sip of your warm drink before instinctively grabbing his hands on the table.

"The only thing you're responsible for is making me see how he already was. I should thank you for that."

"I just..."

Footsteps made you remove your hands and place them back around your cup as you looked down. Bucky cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable as well.

"I didn't want to interrupt anything, sorry," Steve apologised. "Buck, Tony just confirmed we're going on a small mission tomorrow. You're still up, right?" He looked back and forth at you and his friend. "You can also stick around if you want. It's not gonna be difficult."

Bucky's eyes interrogated you for a second. Did he want to stick around to stay with you? You wish you knew. He tilted his head on the side, thinking.

"Nah, I already said I'd come."

"Cool. It's just gonna be Nat and the two of us. We should be fine."

As Steve laid a comforting hand on your shoulder, you felt his last sentence was more directed at you than it was at Bucky, who would actually be on the mission. He squeezed your shoulder before leaving the two of you alone again. The awkwardness that lingered  in the air was killing you : had you made him uncomfortable by kissing him? Had he changed his mind about you?

"This is weird," you finally said. "I made it weird, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have..."

"Hey, hey, calm down," he whispered. "You didn't make anything weird. I just don't want to you  to think I'm pushing you to anything so I..." — he  shook his head – "I though not saying anything about what happened  between us would make you more comfortable."

"Thank God," you breathed. "I thought you regretted it."

"How could I?" He stared at your eyes, his own checking out your lips for a second. "I'd do it again without any hesitation if you asked."

You felt a tickle in your stomach as he leaned towards you, his elbows resting on the table.

"What if I asked now?" you questioned, feeling your cheeks heating up.

The shadow of a smile appeared on his face as he grew closer to you, teasing you with his slow motion. You put your chin forward to make your intentions clear. Taking the hint, he  brushed his lips against yours, sending shivers down your spine. You allowed your hand to touch his neck to pull  him in and kiss him deeper. You soon felt him smile before he pressed a kiss on the corner of your mouth and sat back properly. You rested your head on your hand and shot him a bright smile before acknowledging your feelings and what you'd told Wanda.

"I'm scared, Buck," you confessed. "I don't want to impose my mess of a sentimental life on you."

"You mean that husband of yours?" Bucky scoffed. "It's not gonna be a problem,  doll."

You chuckled at the nickname before grabbing his hand again. "I'm talking to Tony tonight to see if he knows a decent lawyer. After that...I'll have divorce papers drafted," you explained.

Bucky gently squeezed your fingers. "Are you ready to do it now? You have the right to wait."

"I know," you said, distractingly drawing circles on his hand with your thumb. "I also know that the sooner I do this, the less time he'll be able to torment me, because... I'm convinced he won't let this settle in peace."

"I'll be there. All the way."

You couldn't help but smile as you looked at both your hands. It felt so natural that you couldn't even feel any guilt about your marriage.

"Alright lovebirds, I've waited long enough  for my tea," your sister joked as she walked in.

You let out a delicate laugh before getting up. "I'm gonna go work in the lab a little," you said. "I promised Bruce I would look into our tissue theory."

"Can I watch?" Bucky asked in an eager voice.

"Of course!  I'll even teach you a few science tricks if you're nice enough." You smiled once more. "See you,  Wanda!"

---

"Thanks for doing this with me," you said. "I could've gone alone, but..."

"Hey, it's alright," Sam told you. "That's what friends are for."

"Mrs y/l/n?" a young man asked you. "Mr. Reyes is ready to meet you."

You got up and breathed out before entering the attorney's office. As he invited you to take a seat in front of him, you quickly explained Sam was here to support you.

"Mr. Stark told me you might come with a friend," he told you as he grabbed a pile of paper and his pen. "Do  you know what you want out of this divorce? Money, the house?"

"Oh, hum..." You  fiddled with your fingers and Sam gave you a nod of encouragement. "All I want is to get out of this marriage. He can keep the place, I don't care. We don't even have joined bank accounts."

"Yeah, I noticed that. A smart move from you, lady." He took some notes before asking you for your postal address. : you gave him the compound's one. "You won't need elaborate papers for this, I believe. Regular ones will do it just fine, and I promise  you'll  be out of it in no time, provided your future ex-husband signs them soon enough."

"About that... What should I do if he doesn't?"

"Is it a strong possibility?"

You looked at Sam as you debated the question. You hadn't been married for long, but you believed Darren's ego and pride could possibly make this procedure trickier than it actually was.

"Yeah. He's not really happy with my decision."

"If he doesn't sign, then we'll settle this in court. Don't worry, though, we'll make sure we don't have to. Shall we go over the papers together?"

Once you were out of the office, Sam decided to stop at a bar to buy you a drink. "You deserve it," he said. Sitting there at the counter, a beer in your hand, you were anxious about Darren signing papers that hadn't even been sent yet.

"He'll sign them, y/n. And if he doesn't do it willingly, I trust Steve and myself to convince him."

He bumped your shoulder, making you chuckle.

"I hope you're right. I really don't want this do be dramatic. I know it's unfair to him, but..."

"Wait a second," he interrupted you. "Divorce isn't unfair given the way he's been treating you for years."

"I know that now. Both Wanda and Bucky have made it seem very clear to me. But he still deserves a real soulmate, one he will treat right. And I shouldn't have lied to him in the first place."

Sam took a sip of his beer and you took a minute to check out the beautiful small carvings on the edge of the counter. The whole bar had a dark, comfy vibe that you found yourself to enjoy a lot. The bartender had obviously recognised Sam, but he was chill about it.

"Maybe, but the same reasoning applies to you," your friend replied. "You deserve to be with your soulmate, and so does Bucky."

"You're probably right. Thank  you again for coming along. I would've asked Wanda, but..."

"You didn't want to bother her and Vision, didn't you?"

"Yeah, and Steve was on a mission, so... Plus, you're way more chill than he is," you said, laughing a little. "Don't tell him I said that."

"I won't."

"I'm glad we're friends, you know? You, Steve, and the others...you're family to me now."

Sam patted your shoulder.

"I know. We'll always be."

You nodded slowly, taking another sip before Sam's phone started buzzing.  He picked it up quick.

"Stark? What's up?"

You couldn't hear Tony's voice on the other end of the call, but Sam's furrowed brows had you worried. He looked down for a second.

"We'll be here in no time."

He hung up, probably making this one of the shortest calls in history.

"What's wrong?" you asked. "I know something's wrong. Tell me."

"They're back. We gotta go."

Sam grabbed his coat on his chair and dropped a bill on the counter to pay for the beers. He didn't even bother to wait for his change and you followed him outside.

"Okay but why the rush, Sam?"

"Bucky's hurt, and you're the only doc available right now."

--- And that's part 11! Part 13 will be the last one and it's making me emotional... :)

Tag list : @ginger-swag-rapunzel @joscelyn02 @writehistorynotthegrocerylist @bluemoon-icecream @lady-loki-ren @simplybombshell @lizajane3 @livingonkpop @kaitieskidmore1

[curiousconch]

Sobering Truth

Chapter 10 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: After the fallout of Rafael and Heather, what could this mean to Bryce and the recovering doctor? 

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 2.1k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / hints of past violent experience and sex

Author's Notes: Almost is Never Enough by Ariana Grande and Nathan Skyes was the perfect song for this chapter, the lyrics are very fitting. Also, watch out for a cameo from a PM character 😊

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Bryce found himself hunched alone in a bar stool downtown Boston. He swirled the brown liquid in his glass, brows furrowed in remembering the scene in the hospital room. 

His face contorted with the pain piercing through his chest, the possibility of losing Heather once again sinking like a sword. He racked his mind for an option, but it seems all is lost in that battle.

He thought back to their last outing together, and he was so certain that something was there. So why did she choose to stay with someone else instead of being with him?

His lips formed a thin line, his hand rubbing over his face in frustration. The emotions within turbulent and unnerving. Was he just too much of a fool when he thought he had a shot with her? 

This is exactly why Bryce Lahela didn't want to commit. It was far more easier for him to seek momentary connections rather than build permanent ones. He didn't want to relive the rejections-filled past from his adolescence, at the time of his parents' criminal convictions. 

Yet here he was again, suffering the same consequences of wanting something permanent in his life. Something that could bring him happiness. Something better than him being alone in the middle of a crowd of drunken patrons. 

He should've stayed in his own lane of hook-ups and one night stands instead of chasing for this relationship. 

So the first thing he did when he realized that that door is closing, was to go back to his old stomping grounds. 

But why can't he will himself to look around? 

As if on queue, an olive-skinned woman slid herself beside him, her sudden presence invading his thoughts. With a half-smirk and green catty eyes, the coils of dark hair loosely wrapping her head. The mere sight of her was mesmerizing. 

"I know you," she said, almost in a purr. 

Bryce looked back at her, and a long-forgotten heat warmed him up. And it wasn't because of the alcohol in his system.

"I guess my reputation is my charm," he replied, leaning forward. He loosened his tie whilst sipping from his glass. 

"Oh I know all about your reputation," her voice made him shiver, her fingers ever slowly trailing a path towards his arm. "You're the one with magic hands," she whispered, her brows dancing as she spoke. 

This commanding woman was pushing his buttons in all the right places, her sparkly black cocktail dress that clung on her body tightly wasn't making him feel suddenly parched. 

Her hand continued to venture up his arm, and eventually the side of his neck. As it followed the line of his jaw, Bryce couldn't help but lean closer. 

Nothing was stopping him at the moment. 

Miles away from being sober, his lips blew a short burst of air into the woman's bare neck, after which he got the chance to breathe in a whiff of her perfume. 

The jasmine scent was all too familiar. It conjured the image of the woman who Bryce fled away from tonight. 

Heather. 

Snapping out of the trance, he took a step back. Gone was the sexual tension that floated in the air mere seconds ago. Bryce only shook his head to the woman and paid his tab, before almost sprinting out into the cold rain that continued to flood the concrete pavement. 

He let the drops of water wash all over him until he was soaked. With it, the inevitable tears began to fall, which he didn't hold back. He also didn't mind how it easily reduced the numbing effect of the bottle of Jack Daniels that he just consumed. 

Like a thief in the night, the woman of his dreams snatched what was left of Bryce's vulnerable heart. He knew, deep down, that it would take a long time before he can get it back. 

*** 

"Breaking news. Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson pleads guilty as co-conspirators of the kidnapping of Senator Ed Farrugia and Edenbrook doctor Heather Song."

"This is following an intensive investigation by the joint special task force created as the public clamored to protect Massachusetts famed senator. 

"We are joined today by one of the victims, Senator Ed Farrugia, after he gave his testimony today at the Boston courthouse."

The video flicked from a female news anchor to the steps of the city's courthouse, where the politician was joined by Chief DA Tanaka. Heather's hazel eyes however wasn't on the prominent people in the screen, but instead drawn to the tall figure standing beside the older man, his intimidating stature made more pronounced by the sharp gray suit that contoured just enough to please.

Bryce. 

Saying his name, even in her mind, made her involuntarily shudder with regret, aware that between them was an undeniable attraction that she just couldn't shake off. Ever since her kidnapping, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what could've been. Was it just too late for them? Will it only remain a connection that can never be explored? Will it ever be something more? She knew, deep down, if she could change the world overnight, she wanted to try. If there was anything she could learn from her almost dying, it was the sobering truth that life was too short to be restrained by inaction.

But she hadn't been able to speak to him for a while now. He didn't answer his phone nor returned any of her texts or messages. She hoped to get the chance when she was scheduled for her recorded testimony. To her dismay, another ADA visited her and took her witness account. 

She thought he was just busy with the case, but she sensed that he was avoiding her altogether. Her free time provided her so many hours to rack her brain for the reason why. To this day, that question was left unanswered. 

Danny raised his gaze to Heather, as he felt her pulse beat faster than normal. He turned to the TV monitor in the hospital room, stifling a chuckle as he found the reason behind her palpitations.

"Let's try to do this again," Danny said, making Heather's attention swivel to him. 

"Why? Something wrong?" she asked, obviously confused. 

This time, Danny snickered, grabbing the remote from her and switched the channel. The gesture was enough to make her fluster as it dawned on her what the nurse was insinuating. 

"I can't put your last BPM on your chart, Heather. We dont want Dr. Ramsey to not sign off on your discharge papers today. Two weeks of him pestering us is enough torture to last a lifetime," he scoffed jokingly, referencing how the senior attending relentlessly chased the hospital staff to put her case on priority. 

She curtly nodded, her mentor's crass actions embarrassing her further. 

"Thanks, Danny." she sheepishly smiled, hoping the two words were enough to express her appreciation of how the hospital helped her get back on her feet during the roughest period of her life yet. 

Danny returned her gesture, before getting back to taking her pulse. Satisfied, he recorded it to the clipboard in his hand, as her friends thundered into the room. 

Sienna, Elijah, Jackie and Aurora all stepped inside, each carrying an assortment of food items. They moved their Sunday brunch to that day in celebration of Heather's discharge. The welcome noise warmed her heart, their usual banter flowing like music to her ears. 

The thundering of her deep-seated emotions momentarily toned down, as she enjoyed the company of the small family she found in Edenbrook. 

Outside, the weather was warm with no clouds threatening to dampen the surroundings. 

It was going to be a good day. 

*** 

As the last of the questions were addressed and the cameras were turned away, Bryce sighed in relief. 

With the news crews dispersed, Chief Tanaka left to head back to the DA's office, leaving him as second chair to wrap up all the remaining paperwork. He strutted into the courthouse, the ADA facade well in effect. 

It was an understatement to say that the past few weeks were hectic. 

Interviewing Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson was like being pulled into opposite poles. Their personalities were so polarizingly different that Bryce suspected that there was a more to the case than what appears. 

So he advised the special task force to dig into that angle. The FBI's investigation is still ongoing, and he is betting against it finishing soon. 

Today was a day of accomplishments, and Bryce's mood was better than it was ever since that night. Or so he thought. 

As his mind shifted back into the present, he caught the unwelcome sight of Agent Rafael Aveiro conversing with someone in the hallways. He managed to hear a glimpse of the conversation as they got into earshot. 

"You're background would be invaluable to us, Agent Rafael," the strange man in the tweed-colored jacket said. 

"This is such a timely offer that I couldn't refuse. I'll let you know as soon as I wrap up my last case." Bryce heard Raf say. 

"Of course. But please don't keep us in the Interpol on our toes, Agent." 

"Of course, Agent Nazario." 

Taken aback, he stopped, trying to understand what had just transpired. Why was Rafael taking a job with the interpol? 

Once Bryce saw that the special investigator was alone, he approached him, words blazing. 

"Interpol? Seriously, Raf, this soon?" 

Raf turned to face him, surprised at Bryce's sudden interjection. 

"I don't see the need to explain myself to you, ADA Lahela." He politely said as he begun to walk away. 

"But you just got back together! Why leave for an overseas job this soon when she needs you the most?" Bryce's voice rose, echoing into the nearly full hallway. He honestly didn't mind, weeks worth of bottled up frustration threatening to surface. 

A more puzzled expression filled Rafael's face, the line of interrogation making him turn around and stare back at the prosecutor. 

Rafael recognized the look on Bryce's face. It was a mirror of his own haunted reflection. Of a lost love, never to return. The confusion gave way to understanding. 

It made him soften his stance, and place a brotherly hand on the lawyer's shoulder. 

"Look, I don't know why you think that, but Heather and I..." he paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to bury the painful memory of their goodbye into the back of his mind. "We broke up. The same night that she was admitted to Edenbrook after her kidnapping, we talked and agreed to go our separate ways." 

Bryce couldn't believe what he was hearing, his knees weakening with the revelation. Amber eyes widened in shock and feeling like an idiot at the same time. 

He smiled despite himself, the nightmares of his imaginary rejection transformed into a wonderful dream. The door that he thought was closed is now unlocking, and he was determined to blow it wide open. 

With a hasty thank you and goodbye to Raf, he turned the soles of his leather shoes and raced to the door of the courthouse. 

Bryce didn't dare waste another minute to look back. 

Tags: @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[amarauder]

Chapter Three - Percy Jackson x Reader

| percy’s adventure to the top of the world 

- 

a/n; sorry about this chapter being so late! The entire book is basically published on my wattpad account if you want to check that out. Thank you so much for the feedback though! I am pleasantly suprised! 

- 

It just hits noon on Sunday when Percy gets the text.

It's still the same exact name that she entered in sophomore year, still a plaintive "Y/N L/N" with the tiny description under it that's originally used for company names written as Chemistry Class. Percy narrows his eyes and checks the number in his contacts just to make sure Luke hasn't changed his name to mess with him, and eventually accepts the fact that Y/N's texted him, for whatever reason.

" Hi," it says. That's it.

Percy pushes his phone aside and keeps up his attempts at finishing his essay. English 4 is supposed to be easy, he complains mentally. At this rate, he won't graduate.

Despite his extremely studious research (in which he was both reading Wikipedia articles and playing Solitaire, that is), he still has no clue why Mark Twain was so important as far as literature goes. He does, however, come to the conclusion that he'll never be good at Solitaire.

Percy selects a sentence from the Wikipedia article and pastes it directly into his essay. He modifies it, putting the end of the sentence at the beginning, and exchanges the words "light and humorous" to say "light-hearted." A true genius, he is.

Before he can decide where to go from there, Percy glances over to his phone, biting down on his bottom lip. It's not that he doesn't want to talk to Y/N—since Friday, he's kind of wanted to talk to her non-stop—but he didn't expect her to text first. It admittedly throws him off.

What would Mark Twain do? Percy thinks idly, staring at the guy's name where it sits, bolded, at the top of his paper. For one, Mark Twain wasn't ever introduced to cellphones, so he probably wouldn't even know how to reply to the text, even if he wanted to. And, for two, Mark Twain doesn't really seem like the kind of man who would talk to the girl he likes over text. Percy gets the vibe that he's a really old-fashioned, straightforward type of guy.

Leaning back in his desk chair to stretch, Percy groans. Thinking about Mark Twain probably won't get him through this one.

He replies with a "Hey there," momentarily panicking at how flirtatious it sounds. He tries to cover it up with a "Y/N, right?"

It apparently works, since she sends back a "Yeah, it is. I didn't know if you had my number anymore."

"Wouldn't have deleted it," Percy types immediately. He's hovering over the blue button, considering going with something else—less heartfelt, maybe—to respond with, but instead he accidentally hits send. Wonderful. Out of curiosity, he scrolls up past the texts they're exchanging now and reads through the ones they sent before. He hardly remembers the near two-year old conversations, mostly homework questions or him wondering if there's a test the next day, but there's a few that are just... nice, for lack of a better word. Caring little how are yous from him and some remember to bring your book to classes from her. Percy wishes he could remember why he didn't try to get in touch with her that summer, and now he feels sorry that he didn't—after all, he could have been someone to talk to when she was going through a mess with her parents.

He wants to apologize for it, suddenly, but he figures Y/N would either shrug it off or tell him ten times over that it isn't his fault. He doesn't bother.

"That's comforting." Percy blinks at Y/N's reply, but she doesn't give him a chance to reply before another text comes through. "Are you busy?"

He smiles a little at his phone. Sure, he totally has this essay due tomorrow that'll take him a few hours at the very least, but Y/N's far more interesting and appealing than Mark Twain's influence on literature. not at all, he sends.

"I could use a little help with economics, if you're up for it..."

Economics is by far Percy's easiest class this year, but he doubts he's better at it than Y/N. He doesn't mention that.

"Sure," he replies. "but you're gonna have to tell me everything you know about Mark Twain."

She sends two question marks back, but tacks on a Deal a second later.

"where at?" Percy asks, holding his phone about an inch away from his face. It's likely that he's one of the more pathetic people in this world.

"Yours? I can't say that my house is the most welcoming of places for guests," Y/N says, and Percy frowns a little at that. He doesn't waste any time before sending her his address and telling her to come over whenever she feels like it. He doesn't really say it, but it's an invitation for any day—not just a Sunday where they both have homework to get done.

She gives him an estimated arrival time anyways, so Percy spends his remaining moments wisely by hopping in the shower and letting his mom know that he's having a friend over. She's cooped up in her small little cranny of an office, feet tucked beneath her as she types away on her laptop, glasses perched on the tip of her nose and a cooled cup of tea at her elbow. "Of course, that's fine Percy. You can have Luke over whenever, you know. No need to keep asking."

"It's—" Percy hesitates, leaning his temple on the door frame he's leaning against. "Um, not Luke this time."

That gets his mother's attention. She turns to him with a pleased smile. "Oh, what a surprise! I haven't seen Nico in ages, I should put some cookies in."

Percy chuckles, pushing his still-damp hair out of his eyes. "Not Nico, either. It's Y/N—remember, my chem partner? Came over once for our research paper?"

Sally gives him a maternal grin, lifting her eyebrows. "Oh, I always liked her." She redirects her gaze to her computer. "I had a feeling I wasn't the only one, either."

"Mom," Percy warns.

She holds her hands up, a clear white flag. "I'm not suggesting anything. Just your dear old Mom over here, typing up a novel."

"It'll be the best one yet," Percy says, since he knows Mom thrives under encouragement. "I have a feeling. It'll be the one."

"You think?" Sally asks, and she sounds excited, like she agrees. Percy nods with a grin. "Oh, that would be so great, I—" The doorbell dings throughout their home, and his mom's mouth snaps shut. "That would be for you, I'm guessing. Let me know if you need anything, sweetie."

"Thanks, Mom," Percy says, but he makes sure to shut her office door, partially to preserve his privacy, but mostly because he knows his mom needs isolation when she's in writing mode. He gets the door.

Y/N's dressed casually, which is something Percy hadn't even considered; he tossed on track pants out of habit. "Hey," he greets, after a sure but still moment of silence. "Come on in."

"Hi. Thanks."

Percy shrugs mutely, closing the door behind her. He can definitely, one hundred per cent, handle Y/N's presence for a few hours, especially after a good night of sleep and a day spent lazing around. "Thirsty?"

"Water would be great," she answers, and it's a little awkward for a few seconds while Percy leads them into the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for a cup. He usually drinks out of the old, stained plastic ones, but he thinks Y/N probably deserves better as a guest. Eventually, he spots a light blue glass from a dining set they had two houses ago. He pulls it down. "How's your weekend been? Well, since the fair, anyways."

Percy clears his throat, like it'll clear the weird tension in the air, too. "'S been nice. Wish the fair was here for longer, to be honest."

"There's always next year," she says optimistically. He passes off the glass of water, and as she takes it from him, Percy realizes that he didn't bother to ask if she wanted ice. He almost feels rude for a second, but Y/N takes a grateful sip and sends him a little smile, so he guesses that he did alright. "Anyways, economics."

"Right, economics." Percy shakes himself. He should focus on the actual intention of Y/N's visit, not whether or not she'll get huffy about a few ice cubes. "What chapter are you guys on?"

"We have the same teacher, I'm pretty sure—Mr. Manassa?" Percy nods. "My class just started the chapter on supply."

Percy mentally sighs in relief. Supply is something he understands, so he won't look like an idiot. He uses his right thumb to rub at the palm of his left hand, grimacing when he realizes his hands are clammy. "Yeah, same. We can—in the living room, if you want?"

"Fine by me," Y/N replies, and Percy swallows past the weird, sudden dryness in his throat. It's like he's never seen an attractive human before. Christ. "I started reading the chapter, but it just sounds like gibberish. I hate the way the book's written."

"Really?" Percy's actually read a bit of the chapters, since he didn't think the writing was too excruciating, but to each their own. "I don't know, I kind of like it."

"Good, then. Hopefully you can help me make sense of it." She sits on the couch beside him—not really close, but not really far either, and Percy feels himself settling in more, the jitters wearing off. He knows Y/N, is the thing, and it's not even the first time she's sat on his couch while they do school work together. She puts her backpack on the floor and digs out her green economics book, the same one Percy has stuffed underneath his bed. "Have you done the chapter work?"

"What?"

"The chapter work," Y/N repeats, and if Percy didn't know her, he probably wouldn't have noticed how amused she was at his lack of attention. "The work that's due tomorrow."

"Oh, yeah, that," Percy mumbles. Truth be told, he hasn't been doing much at all besides binge-watching old H2O (I had too) episodes on Netflix and playing games on his phone—well, that and a bit of Mark Twain research this morning. "I started it."

"I'm sure," she says, and her tone's some brand of teasing. She peers around, like she's looking for something in particular. "You can go get your backpack, you know."

"I know," Percy replies quickly, sounding a lot more annoyed than he really is. "I was getting there."

Y/N laughs. Percy stands up before he makes the mistake of staring.

He returns with his laptop tucked under his arm, Mark Twain paper still up and sharing the screen with his game of Solitaire. Y/N looks like she might have a laugh at his expense when she sees it, but instead she says, "Explain the difference between supply and quantity supplied to me, please."

And, honestly, Percy's never been in the business of rejecting polite people. He explains to her heart's content.

- 

tags; @ohmygoditsanthonyedwardstark​ and @25-and-a-half-bards

masterlist

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Uncle Donald gave her $800 in the 1980s

She let him invest it for her up until now

And she has now $45B

I hope you enjoyed your game as there are more to come but with more people as it enters TV for free of course on Channel Fox.

As always enjoy life and what it brings with the most care you can afford.

Don't let the economy, crumble, Uncle Donald, i hit up JP for some cash since Jesse stole mine from United Business Bank located in Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico.

I own Chase, bought it with Donald and sold to the US Government for a mint. Jesse could got in on this deal but he wanted to challenge me instead.

So I asked Uncle Donald for a cash loan, how much he could afford and what was in his wallet. $4000 roughly. So we split it between his 4 kids (the 4th being me) and I gave him back $200 for the rest of the day.

And we returned to the bank and I asked him how to deposit the money into Chase Manhattan because Denise had bought me clothes but I wanted to be a fashion designer and had altered them So she threw them all away in a rage of jealousy and heat.

Of course i started to cry so we went back across the street to McDonald's and we talked. He said "i have a surprise for you, lets get to the bank"

So we walked alllllll around the building, up and down and he talked to a man and got us inside all the back rooms. He said "i wanna buy it!" And he turned to me and asked "would you like to invest your $800 into my bank as an investor?"

I said "what about my clothes! She said i had to return the money or else i get none!"

"But who did she spend the money on?"

"Me and my brothers and and her!"

"Well don't you think Its time to invest in you and your fashion?" He asked for my $800 i had to pull from 4 different pockets and my sock as he taught me to split to beat pick pocketers. And handed it all. He handed me back $200 and I handed it back then he handed me a $5 from his breast pocket and t told me to keep it.

And began to walk to the counter to buy the bank.

I chased after him and put it in his left cost pocket and told him, 'well you know you bought me lunch so you keep it"

I pulled it from his pocket to produce proof I had already given it and he couldn't give it back and then stuffed it back in deep, all the way i nearly ripped his shoulder off for which I promptly apologized, jumped on the counter and rubbed his soreness off and jumped down.

And he started to cry a little bashful at first then a full sob. And I tried to console him and Robby appeared with a trailing line of toilet paper so his silk hanky wouldn't be soiled with snot.

He thanked him and became startled and asked if he wanted in on the investment.

Robby said, "i might but i need to talk to you, I belong to this boarding school ran by this might be soon white bigger as he calls himself, inspired by her and taken completely out of context"

"Michael Jackson" interjected our new found Uncle Donald. "Come let's sit"

We moved to the side of the spacious lobby to a small table accompanied by two plus club chairs.

He and i talked about how neat it would be to have chaise chairs in Chase bank.

"Well, her mom is abusive, mostly about money so i would like to take control of her stock with her permission"

"Yes! I do! And i will wanna get married!" I jumped with my fist in the air and pushed against the chair like a standing push up and stood

....

"Her sit. First I would like to talk to you as an investor. I am run by the boarding house and they teach us things like to steal and bring back to get 'rewards' much often things less than they are worth like a stick of gum for $2 when I can get a whole pack for 20 cents. Uh oh, here he comes"

"Im about to invest into this bank with these two kids you got something you wanna say to me?" Instead of waiting for a reply, uncle Donald got up and briskly walked to the counter, asking to return to a different room, promptly and away from Mr Jackson whom was still solidly black (he doesn't have vitaligo its just bleached).

And we entered a nearly empty office and he turned fiercely, angry even, "this will be your office where you will WORK"

...

"Its okay! We are still friends!" I climbed into the chair then up onto the desk "this is where I will sit"

"Well close your legs and sit like a lady, like this hand me your foot, no don't take off your shoe"

"Well I didn't want to ruin you! Your suit is NICE!!"

And he moved my foot and crossed my ankles and patted my knee and said "or you cross at here"

I took my ankle to my knee "no not like that, that's like a man. Knee to knee"

"Oh like this?" I squeezed my knees together

Robby laughed and Uncle Donald looked flustered

"Oh i know I know cross at my knees, you need to explain better!" I patted his shoulder. In the 80s it was okay to touch, at least for a child.

"I said that first!"

"Oh! I interrupt!"

"No apologize" Robby groaned

"I apologize for interrupting"

"For?" Asked Donald "you can't tell her that Because ---"

"No he could I get misinformation that way"

"Except when I'm being scolded and she knows the truth" said Robby.

Tune in next week for another Miss Adventure of one Wild Single Mom's Childhood!

I had 48 cents. Robby had put in 2500 front Hayes then 1500 each from Mark and Mike Andrews which he had not signed and they got rejected. Yet Jesse notified me of this, restricted my remote deposit privileges and now i am to notify the Sheriff of Hays County, Austin, Texas that the money is kept hidden in the tax and revenue accounts of his great county. And to open an investigation which he will pretend he did and then not. So i get his hush money as well as the other two and the $15B JP Dejoria stupidly just paid me because i Told Jesse to tell his father in law that Jesse is a stupid piece of shit which he didn't.

And of course I will invest in schools across the nation, installing playgrounds at any schools that do not have them, including intermediate, Jr high, middle, High and etc.. And may be finally lockers at least were I'm centrally located and/or where i want to be, namely at high schools at least.

Because that is what I want to do. Make people happy in the funniest ways possible.

And if there is any left I want to reinvest at the parks i originally invested in, initially, to make them better snd brighter, starting at the older to the newer.

I want the world to seem happier and brighter and in the case of schools at least around here once they hit 7th grade (middle school) they change schools to those that no longer have lockers or desks to put things in, 7 or more teachers to please instead of one or two they spend all day with, like a parent who gives love and kindness and retribution, they go through puberty which in itself is a chore. Then the kids riot. I've seen it in small schools and i know it happens in big ones. 20 in one week at the beginning of school less than a mile from my house where i can hear the school bell.

And so they need a place to sleep their weary heads like the shoulder of an old friend instead of weeping a soul they can no longer call their own.

The secrets i have included here broke my heart to where it actually stopped over and over.

Instead of asking what was wrong, Mr Moneybags Jesse sent me to the doctor alone. -.-

He could have provided me with what i needed like I provided and protected him from Ms Dejoria and Mark Hindberg, Afghanistan and Iraq, which I will no longer do.

He is the one that encouraged Michael Jackson to pickpocket the slaves he had created.

Yes Michael Jackson is Wacko, is Him and is burning in Hell because I killed him with my own pistol Jesse had stolen from a cop, altered and resold to himself at a cheaper price than the way over inflated price he created to create a deficit in his company to receive a refund from the US government's IRS Department in the amount of $8,000 instead of paying the $1M he owed.

I plead guilty before a judge and Uncle Donald, Mrs Katherine Jackson, the Anne my 4 year old daughter that Michael Jackson attempted to rape in front of me, as well as Robby, my true love and of course Sunny and Jesse James himself whom gave me the gun.

Then, before then President Barack Obama, i was exonerated and pardoned completely without the possibility of parole or any other misconceptions that would be included with self defense manslaughter.

This week total I have arrested a total of 19 men and women thanks to the CIA as an unpaid civilian.

That would guarantee me Presidentship of one really great country, now, wouldn't it?

Thanks. And not to be repeated: No more games. Only truth.

Until next time my fair weather friends!

Now! Let's grab the bookie!!! Snag! You're in jail. What did ya know, Mike Andrews, I knew all along that Mark Hindberg was FBI. Why didn't you think that?

Moving along, hi JP. How are you? No one cares. Good thing you trusted into your rapist daughter who was married to a true hero whom puts up with my shit even after we name him Mr Vomit cause I make him so scared he actually vomits like I did tonight (that's included. No more scare, only truth)

Oh yes, JP, you have already been arrested and so you know -- you have no guns with you, right? Alexis Dejoria is no rapist, she's actually an excellent FBI agent whom hates her dad and is included in any exonerations I may have to hand out butbat my leisurely pace, because she actually didn't rape anybody!

Also the US government will pay your wages as you did file a lawsuit this very week by signing up with Namus.gov like we all did.

She like me, was an unpaid civilian whom ran into luck. While she's smart, she's not smart like me. Thus she's the FBI vs me who is CIA and can work against the world in a millisecond as i usually do and have in Afghanistan and Iraq where i protected many NHRA members during their tours in the US Military while they served with Jesse James and my little brother and were even kidnapped thanks to Matt Hagan's temper tantrum and Jesse James refusal to listen to command. Eventually I saved them from that too in a day and 6 hours after leaving base. They were involuntary bound and gagged and beaten within 20 minutes of their capture. Within the next 20 when I was finally told of their status they were rescued by Tony Schumacher and his team.

And now i have saved the NHRA from being beaten and raped and tortured. My time to continue here at home is not wasted,

I love you all and thank you very much for listening...

And now i have something to say about Jesse since i made him puke from a lie via email Because he made me mad for being a Dick douchebag and not caring enough about me, not wrecking his motorcycle and then lying to make me feel bad and stupider than ever although I saw the wreck and my being a girl, up and President running, couldn't stop to rescue or assist a man on his feet whom had already picked up his bike after a wipe out and the trailer passed me up to show me he would assist because forgive those trespassers as we trespass ourselves and i care that he could really been hurt. That may be a fault of mine but it is called Grace and not salvation which is being my daughter reincarnated into a goat in Iraq to keep everyone safe because Jesse is a dumb dumb sometimes and Matt Hagan prefers truth over himself, sometimes. Like being in love with a goat of my daughter's soul, in Iraq. (I bet he fucked her, too. Bestiality freak. Not my business tho, nor yours. But still, let's laugh instead of poking fun at his misadventures. It is funny, yo!)

Jesse cared about the goat so much he listened to her over every one, even me. Because he believed she was closer to God where he needed to be..

I changed his life once in Alabama and several times then, over and over, any time that need be.

But finally for this one time he trusted somebody else and learned to love as much as he could, the soul inside of him.

So God bless to all of the two headed creatures we will see wandering around the backs of people at the NHRA in the future to come. Including even on me.

I'm Mrs Cougar cause of my fingernails and my desire to be with someone young to keep me fresh and Alive -- not by his blood byt by the life he gives me. And he will be Mr Snake the one who slithers up beside me only for love while I labor in the grass kicking myself for what i might have done but not for what i might have missed out on because I was there the whole time thinking and feeling and frolicking through the grass, same as me.

And of course my tattoo will be scary cause the world as I know it, very much can be.

And you can thank me for the past or you can think about the future and beyond!!!

[bigkill]

One Night | Chanyeol x reader smut

Summary: Chanyeol being an idol and your boyfriend was stressful. So when the man starts coming home late at night, angrily throwing things around and confronting you, things become hectic.

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I'm writing this in class and I'm bored so don't @ me also I think we need more angst smuts out there because personally I get turned on when my s/o becomes aggressive I swear its not weird.

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You stared anxiously at the clock waiting for your boyfriend of three years to come home, your bed growing colder and colder as you chewed your thumbnail. This wasn't normal for him. He always got home immediately after practice and if not, he would call you to make sure you didn't wait up for him, (which you always did, anyway), unless he was on tour; which he very well wasn't because you knew his schedule. It was getting later and later, almost midnight, and still no sign that he was coming home, no phone call, nothing. The thought of anything bad happening to him was starting to scare you.

Just when the clock was about to strike 12, you heard keys jingling as the front door creaked open, and then to your bewilderment, slammed shut loud enough to scare the dogs in the apartment next door. The man groaned loudly at the barking, threw his keys in the glass bowl before the corridor, and began rummaging through the kitchen cabinets for something.

You had tried so hard to be quiet. For some reason, luck wasn't on your side, for when you took one step out into the living area, the floorboard had creaked, and his movements had stopped.

Chanyeol didn't mind it, though. He didn't even turn back to face you, simply continued looking through the cabinets, tossing the components to the floor without a care for the person who organized them weekly (that was you). "Fuck!" He barked, throwing an empty pill bottle across the room after he'd emptied everything out onto the floor, and then proceeded to kick things out of his way. He stalked over towards his book bag, all bunched up with things, and then emptied said things out onto the floor.

"Babe," you chirped, walking closer towards the man who resembled a crazy person right now, "what are you looking for?" You kneeled down beside him, about to reach a hand out to his shoulder to console him, but he only smacked your hands away without answering.

Now you were annoyed, crossing you arms over your chest sternly. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

The man groaned, throwing his bag across the room and breaking an ugly vase you didn't really care about. You stared at it boredly as it was knocked from the table stand and shattered against the floor. He stood up abruptly, still having yet to respond, and then muttered a slew of curses when he attempted to clean his mess and ended up cutting himself.

Sighing, you never knew what to do when he'd gotten so angry he didn't know what to do with himself. The man was very happy, yes, but the passion could also be flipped into a negative emotion if someone or something had been so inclined to make him that way. It was frustrating, sure, but you had gotten use to this behavior, and the usual aftermath that was having to clean up after him, replacing the things he had broken, and then accepting the apology flowers he bought you the next day to compliment the new vase.

You always bought vases you didn't like.

"Where is it?" Now his attention was directed towards you, his eyes bulging from his skull, implying his next phrase was to be an accusation. "Y/n, where is it?"

"Where's what?!" You tutted your arms up, motioning the offhand materialization of whatever it was he wanted.

Chanyeol groaned again, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The fucking painkillers, babe! Where the fuck are they? I have a fucking headache and I can't find one goddamn pill in this apartment—," he kicked over the vase stand, causing you to raise your eyebrows.

"We have Advil in the bathroom—where its always been." Shakingly, you pointed towards the bathroom beside your bedroom, but knew this was more than just a silly headache. Chanyeol never got physical over a headache, in fact, he had become soft and mushy when he had those.

What was happening was way more than a stupid headache.

"No, I need something stronger." The man was on the verge of tears and you couldn't understand why. Never had he directed his anger towards you, and you usually just let him ride it out until morning because aside from throwing a temper tantrum like a five year old, he had no clue what to do with his anger. "Fuck, babe. Can you just fucking get them?" He croaked, his frustration turning into a red face as he sunk to the floor.

Rolling your eyes, you got the Advil from the cabinet and a glass of water, kneeled in front of him as if he were a child that needed guidance, holding both items out to his face. He rubbed his eyes, scooping up the pills from your hand with his lips and drinking the water that you had brought him, his heart thumping in his ears.

You rolled your eyes again and stood up to get ready for bed, but this action only seemed to annoy him further.

"You're not gonna ask what happened? I'm kind of in distress, here." His long leg stretched out, kicking over the organized items from the coffee table. Said items being the paper work that took you days to organize for your clients, scattering around and about your living area like gigantic confetti. For some reason, you felt your blood bubble up in the form of seeing red, your own anger internalizing as you remembered the nights of sleep you missed getting everything down before you had to go back to work. You had called the banks, closed deals over the phone which was especially difficult, talked some of your clients out of whatever stupid decision they were about to publicly make, and managed the social media accounts of upcoming artists.

Suddenly, a laugh bubbled out into the air from the pit of your stomach, your legs carrying you towards the dish rack filled with nothing but wet glass plates. And you snapped. Your body had flickered towards him as fast as the glass left your fingers, the item smashing against the wall he was leaned against and causing the man to bolt up from his seat.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Chanyeol clamored, his large frame closing the space between you, but you didn't care. You threw another plate at his feet, not meaning to hurt him, but meaning to destroy things the same way he did.

"Me?!" You yelled with a condescending chortle slipping passed your plump lips, "oh, so now you see how crazy you act! Here!" And another plate went flying across the room, forcing him to back away from you if he didn't want to get cut again. "Do you know the week I had sorting shit out for ingrate idols determined to fuck up the careers they wouldn't have if I didn't exist?! Do you know the phone calls I had to make—despite being on my paid time off after a mental break down at the office—to make sure nobody fucked anything up while I was gone?! Those fucking papers, Yeol. Those were everything I did! I'm so sorry that your pretty leg hurts after hours of practice!"

Chanyeol scoffed, his own laugh bubbling out into the world, throwing his sweater off because of how stuffy it was becoming in your apartment. "Oh, so you automatically assume that that's what happened?! That I hurt myself during practice?!" He laughed again growing closer towards you, "no, my asshole manager just told me that the album we worked really hard on for months—the concept, choreography, lyrics—was quote on quote, 'too real' for the crowd that we have! Because we sing for twelve year old princesses who can't understand that fairy tales aren't life! They take my artistry for a joke, and my own girlfriend can't even see that."

"What are you even talking about?!" Your voice was only elevating the more he continued to speak. "I support you, I just don't like when you come home like this and do this," you motioned around you, bringing to his attention what a mess he had created, "and you think its okay that you act like a child, but its not because you're a fucking adult and I'm not your mother! I can't do everything!"

Having heard enough, he slammed his fist into the wall that had suffered the most, creating a new hole you would have to plaster some time in the near future. The idea of it made you rub your temples before you encouraged such behavior further by beating the shit out of him.

"I swear, you're so fucking immature! Whose going to fix that and then find the right paint shade? Me! That's who the fuck!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up, already! You're not the only one who works hard!" He spat.

You laughed, however pissed off you were, "you do realize that neither are you!"

Chanyeol suddenly spun to face you, his frame towering over you with each step he took, a passion in his eyes you couldn't quite understand; a mix of lust and infuriation glinting in his eyes. The atmosphere had grown steamy as his body completely trapped your's against the kitchen island, breaths mingling together as you breathed heavily, but the anger was still there. All these emotions had translated into lust for the man, his sexiness vibrating in the fact that his muscles had been showing since he tore his hoodie from his body. Damn him for being so attractive, maybe you could stay angry enough to deny what you knew was about to happen.

His lips roughly encapsulated your's, your arms instantly latching around his neck as he pulled your legs up around his torso, firmly gripping your ass. You always loved it when he'd present his strength during foreplay, letting you know just how little control you had for the moment, or exactly what you were in store for.

Chanyeol was always rough during sex, but he had managed to become extremely rough during times like this, when hate-fucking would commence to end whatever dispute had put a strain on your relationship. Maybe it wasn't the healthiest antic, unlike talking about it, but you weren't ones for talking, anyway, so it didn't matter.

He walked you over towards the dining table, his breath still heavy and hot against your neck as he brought one arm out to clear the items from the table and dropped you against it for a moment to pull away and remove his shirt. You did the same, hastily pulling off the article of clothing, but he beat you to removing your bra, or simply ripping it from your body like an animal. He was always so needy when he was upset, but it was hot as hell and you didn't like that bra, anyway. You let a moan slip, your juices already soaking up your underwear when he dipped back in for another aggressive, sloppy kiss, the sound of his unbuckling pants and heavy lip smacks of pleasure the only thing that could be heard. You trailed your soft fingers down his solid chest, passed his torso, and down to his throbbing manhood beneath his underwear, the touch eliciting a groan that vibrated against your lips and felt like heaven.

Continuing to palm him, feeling his bulge grow harder than a street pole, he forced his tongue into your mouth, not having time to ask permission, and feeling his dominance slip away whenever you took action against his body. You moaned, his hands playing around with your nipples, his hips thrusting against your's harshly, forcing the tables to turn to his own control against you. "Fuck," you mumbled in ecstasy, your head becoming so fuzzy with want, it was almost painful. Seriously painful, he'd sunk his teeth into your jaw and collarbone, and then harshly sucked at the soft skin around your neck, forcing a hiss to bubble in your chest. Not the kind of painful that would have stopped you—the kind of painful that excited you, that turned you into the lewd person you were beneath the professional face you wore outdoors and in front of other people.

Chanyeol was the only person who got to see you in this state. This state of enjoyment, with your head thrown back in pleasure, and your back arched at the feel of his tongue swirling around your hard nipple. Whimpering, your body squirmed, but no other words had bothered to leave your esophagus. Not like they could, his hand was secure around your throat, only enough to assert his power over you. "You talk such a big game when you're angry, baby girl. Where'd all that go?" A smirk had painted his lips, those lips that had stopped midway to tease you. He was always trying to challenge you and it was annoying.

Whimpering again, you tugged at the waistband of his underwear, throwing your head back simply because you didn't want to talk. You panted as his hand slowly slipped down your stomach, beneath the hem of your underwear, and then finally, inserted his two fingers in without uttering a word. Something had tried to force its way out—words—but you choked them back, moaned, and shook your head. "Please, Yeol," you begged, "Fuck me, already."

Chanyeol didn't waste time. He didn't bother with the fact that you were already soaking up the cloth for him, (even though not much had happened), or tell you that you were dirty for getting turned on by his aggression. He tore the soaked up cloth away from your womanhood with such haste, the damn things had split from the middle and hung loosely around your middrift. And as if a shitty warning, or lack thereof, couldn't get better, he clutched the ring of your waist with his nails scratching at the surface of your skin and slammed into you, forcing you to scream out his name, followed by a slew of curses and your body shuddering. "Fuck!"

He grunted loudly, his speed picking up as his jaw tightened, his own curses falling from the tip of his tongue. His body dipped down into yours, connecting his mouth to the rim of your jawline, biting and sucking at the skin that made your knees weak. Your legs around his waist had forced him in deeper, the feeling of his body against yours driving you mad. You needed more. You needed his hands to scratch at the skin of your back, to elicit any kind of pain to bring your body where it needed to be, and that's exactly what he did. His hand kept scratching up the side of your plump ass, then roughly kneading into your breasts, and your own nails had dug themselves into the skin of his back, drawing out a hiss from his soft lips and encouraging him to move harder.

"Chanyeol!" You moaned quite vocally, the neighbor's dogs barking again, but neither of you cared. Chanyeol had only be determined to release his energy, and to break your body in the only way he knew how to. He wanted to fuck you so senseless, you wouldn't be able to walk tomorrow and he'd have to stay home with you to continue what you two had started. He pulled out completely, all of suddenly, and just as abruptly had slammed his entire length into your core, hitting that special spot that had you throwing your head back against the table and moaning ever so passionately. "Fuck, babe! R—right there! Don't stop!"

"I wasn't planning on it." His gravel road voice spewed, his large hands forcing your hips down whenever your back curled up, the actions leaving bruises against your [color] skin. Chanyeol had slowed his pace, not relishing in the idea of coming before you, his own close end rearing when he'd still had yet to satisfy you, and had transferred to long, hard strokes that made your breath hitch in your throat. He latched his lips back to your's, keeping the energy alive by forcing his tongue back into your mouth for further exploring, winning his own game of dominance, and reaching down to rub your clit to accompany his rough strokes. When he felt he was good to go faster, he slammed his palms beside your head and reverted back to his previous pace.

There was a knock at the door, but the both of you ignored it, and instead, he shoved his fingers in your mouth.

"You're fucking loud, you know that?" The man grunted into your ear, feeling your teeth sink against his fingers as you suppressed the urge to whimper his name. Straightening his posture, he lifted your leg over his shoulder with his free hand and came down again to continue his mouth work, his manhood hitting that spot again. That spot that knocked the air from your lungs and sent you for a ride on cloud 9. The spot that made you inhale sharply despite his fingers, and curl your nails around his skin at the sensation coiling in the pit of your stomach.

"Mmf, oh my god," you mumbled against his hand, your eyes rolling back behind your head. "C-Chanyeol, I'm c-coming," the words had fallen from your mouth with the saliva build up around his fingers, the sight alone making his own pleasure an irresistible feat.

"Me, too, baby," chanyeol groaned into your neck, and then placed an unusually soft kiss against your cheek, letting you know that he, too, was coming to his end. "Go ahead, already. I wanna feel you." He whispered, his pace becoming sloppy when your walls caved around him from the release of pressure in your abdomen, the feeling had you shaking in your spot, drawing out a long, loud moan from your throat. Chanyeol had made his own grunts, pulling out shortly after you had come, and releasing his load onto the palm of your hand with a sharp inhale and exhale of a grunt.

"Fuck," he muttered, letting his body fall next to yours on the other side of the table, exhaustion beginning to consume him.

You could've sworn you were seeing stars with the way your body continued to shake, but you could feel his messy hair suddenly resting against your shoulder as your breaths fought to come to a slow. Neither of you spoke, especially not at times like this, when you'd both have to realize how toxic hate-sex could be. But by God, it was the only time he could truly get you off where one orgasm was all you needed.

"Is this healthy," he was hesitant, but continued after a few more pants. "I mean, are we healthy?"

Thinking for a moment, you shrugged your shoulders, truly having no concrete answer to the question he'd just asked you. "I don't know. I don't care," yeah, that's what you were going with, "I like it. I like how we are. Because its confusing, and its weird, and maybe others can't understand—but I think its sexy as hell. You're fucking hot when you're angry."

Chanyeol chuckled sheepishly, his cheeks tinting pink despite how confident he was just a minute ago. "Okay."

[imagineclaireandjamie]

imagine jamie didn't have to go to korea in fmm. wink wink

Flood my Mornings: Service, Part II 

Notes from Mod Bonnie:

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment:  Service [Part I] (Jamie receives a letter with the potential to upend his entire new life)

December, 1950

“C L A I R E !!!”

My heart exploded in instant terror and I whirled from the array of clipboards at the nurses’s station to see Jamie barreling down the hospital corridor toward me—which at 11:00 on a Wednesday—his face red and wrenched—was—

Whatever had been in my hands clattered to the floor and I bolted toward him at full speed. ““Jamie!” I shouted, heart racing, not bloody caring that we were in a hospital with dozens of people watching.  “Are you hurt?? Bree—??”  

“No’ hurt—All fine—” he had time enough to say before catching me up into his arms so violently it knocked the wind out of me. 

He was clasping me so tightly I couldn’t get a look at his face but I could clearly hear that he was crying; and Jesus, the fabric heaving under my cheek wasn’t the plaid shirt in which he’d left the house, this morning, but his best grey suit. “JAMIE,” I rasped out, his emotion bringing forth my own tears before I even knew what they were for, “what on EARTH is—?”

He was saying something over and over as he hands traveled over me, alternately touching and holding, but—

“English, Jamie—” I begged, “English!”

“I dinna have to go—Dinna have to go—”

“Go? Go where??”

“The war—Claire, I’ve been EXEMPTED.”

I pushed back against him hard enough to break his grip, staggered back far enough that I could look up into his face. There were tears in his eyes, yes, but he was beaming with joy and RELIEF. 

This flickered for a moment with something like pain as he took my face between his hands. “They did call me up, mo ghraidh. I got the letter day before yesterday.”

“Wh–WHAT—?” I was instantly sobbing, the world exploding around me as I tried to grasp hold of his words.

“But I dinna have to go—and I willna ever have to go.” He kissed me, fiercely, and made me meet his blazingly joyous gaze. “Sassenach—mo chridhe—I’m FREE.”

Earlier that day

“You’re a jumpy son of a bitch, aren’t you?” the medical officer said, wiping blood from his lip as he picked himself off the floor.

“I—beg your forgiveness, sir—Major—” Jamie stammered even as he seethed, cursing himself, DAMNING himself and his instincts. Christ, surely this sealed his fate, if nothing else. 

He was still clad in the green paper gown, standing—only his straight back prevented it being called ‘cowering’— in the corner of the tiny room, fists clenched and shaking, trying desperately to remain still and calm, but his heart and memory screaming, images flashing before his eyes. 

“You pack a wicked hard punch. Never had a prostate exam before, huh?” Shockingly, the man had a wry smile on his face as he turned to the papers on his counter. “I did warn you, right after I asked you to turn around, you know.” 

“Aye, well, I didna—” 

Didna ken what in God’s name a Prostate was, let alone where it would be located. 

He choked back a snarl. “No, I’ve never had one.” 

And what I HAVE had screams at me to cut your throat, should you come near me again. 

But he forced himself to unclench his fists and say, with an approximation of calm, “That was—inexcusable—I—shall make whatever reparations—”

The Major waved his hand and turned. “Don’t worry about it.”

Jamie blinked. “Sir—I drew blood from ye—Surely I—” 

“I said, don’t worry about it,” the man said firmly, taking a drag on his cigarette before making a note on his paper, “we’re done with the physical, anyway.” 

Why a medical man should see fit to smoke was beyond him—but whatever failings the Major might have, it was more than gracious of him to look past being punched in the face and knocked to the ground in the course of his duties. 

“You can get dressed,” the Major said, “Then and come join me in the office across the hall when you’re ready.”

Jamie didn’t move a fraction from the safety of the corner until the door had closed firmly behind the officer. He exhaled all his heart, it seemed, as he staggered to lean against the examination table. He felt the panic rising, but he bit it back. Not today. Not now. 

He’d gotten the summons letter barely three weeks after presenting himself to register, unheard of, by all accounts. Thank God he’d been alone in the house at the time, for he’d screamed and wept and prayed, BEGGED, with all his soul.

He’d asked Charlie MacAlister out for a dram, to ascertain quietly from a friend how the thing was done. He greatly respected all the Fernacre lads, but didn’t trust that whisperings of his inquiry wouldn’t make their way back to Claire through Tom, by way of Marian. He’d been out with Charlie several times since Samhain (though plans for a family get-together had been repeatedly foiled by holidays, weather, and the ebb and flow of Claire’s health with the bairn). Charlie, he could speak to, man to man— outsider to outsider, even—without fear… at least, not fear of rousing Claire’s suspicion. 

No, you weren’t obliged to go off to war immediately, Charlie said, just report for your medical examination. Then, you’d have some time—sometimes weeks, sometimes months— to put your affairs in order and say your farewells. You’d be trained, for a time, in the weapons and ways that would be needed, and then you’d be sent to the front for months or years. Jamie knew from the book he’d pored over that Korea was half a world away. From the newspapers he’d read every day, but now was seeing with new eyes, he knew that after a year or two of lean recruiting, 1950 had already seen more than a two thousand percent increase (two THOUSAND percent!!) in the number of men called up for the draft over 1949, the faraway war growing more and more deadly, consuming men like an inferno. The men being called to war now, Charlie said bleakly, would be coming back only after their deployment term ended, if they were wounded, or….

He couldn’t tell Claire. If it made him a coward, then he would carry that mark, but he couldn’t face his wife, tell her their lives were once again going to be upended by war—and this time, a war for which he was utterly untrained and unequipped, fodder for whatever weapons were used to wage it; couldn’t face her or bear to touch her belly, where grew yet another of his children to be born without their father. He was a coward, but if he had had to look her in the eye and tell her, he couldn’t have gotten out the door. He’d have taken her to bed and made love to her and wept and made love to her again and again until the United States Armed Forces dragged him from the house with their own hands. And so, he’d kissed his wife and daughter that morning, gotten into the Car with his best Suit in the back seat, and driven to the enlistment station.

It was massive, the Boston Military Entrance Processing Station, ominous and sleek and echoing all around with booted footsteps. Posters screamed out from every wall, bills alternately coaxing, shaming, or flattering young men into joining the Armed Forces voluntarily—though it seemed an infuriatingly moot point, given that the voice over the Loudspeaker cheerily reminded him that now he’d passed though ‘Freedom’s Front Door’, his military career had already begun. 

The uniformity of it all was perhaps the most chilling of all: everything in sight, from the desks in each office to the last badge on the last soldier’s uniform were identical in form and usage. War, he understood; bloodshed, he knew to his core; the need to defend and protect, aye; but this….pageantry? He’d seen it only in the English army of his own time—and he had cause to know what acts of base treachery could be perpetrated behind such order.  And perhaps it was that knowledge that had sent his fist into the Major’s face on instinct, and what reminded him that he’d do it again, to prevent being another officer’s prey. 

And it was for that reason as well as the draft that Jamie’s heart was screaming as he dressed and crossed the hall into the Major’s office. Major Dr. Mark Barrington, M.D. (for so the handsome nameplate read) gave him a nod of acknowledgement, but continued scribbling on the page before him.  Jamie took a seat in the chair across the wide desk and clutched his hat in his hands.

A full minute passed. 

“When am I to report, then?” Jamie blurted, when he could bear it no longer. Major Barrington looked up, having the gall to look bemused. “So that I might begin preparing.” 

“Just hold your horses. We’re done with the physical, but still have to go through some things,” the Major said, pulling Jamie’s medical folder to the top of his pile and examining it. “So: wicked scars on your back….nasty gash on your leg…busted-up hand….blow to the back of the head…..More cuts and burns and scars than I can count…Other—trauma,“ he said carefully before looking up at Jamie over his spectacles. “You’ve been to hell, haven’t you, Fraser?” 

Jamie’s mouth tightened and he said stiffly. “I did what needed doing, when the need arose.”

Major Barrington nodded. He was quiet for a moment, then said in quite a gentle voice, “Bataan?” 

The word had absolutely no meaning to Jamie. 

“Or Palawan? Changi?” 

The look on the man’s face was one of understanding, so Jamie gambled his chances, tightened his mouth, and gave a small shrug. “Something of the like.”

“Got some scars off the Japs myself,” he said gruffly. “You’re lucky to have made it back alive.” 

“Aye, thanks be to God,” Jamie said, with feeling. Of course: parts of Claire’s war had been fought against the Japanese, he remembered. That fit well enough with his ambiguous narrative of capture in the line of duty and long captivity. 

The Major flipped through more pages in Jamie’s file. “Why is there no record of your past service, here?” 

“It's—complicated.” 

���Might be worth working through ‘complicated,’” Major Barrington said, frankly. “If you had documentation that you fought in the last war, you could possibly get an exemption on those grounds.” 

Christ, if only Frank Randall could work another miracle. 

“I’m not sure Britain would claim me,” Jamie said carefully. “I was captured, see, and they seem inclined to—pretend I never existed, rather than acknowledge they left me behind.”

“Bastards,” Barrington said, with such venom Jamie looked up. “It’s the least they could fucking do.” 

Jamie felt oddly touched. But all he could do was shrug stiffly and utter a solemn, “Such is my lot.”

Major Barrington stared at Jamie for a long moment. Then, nodded decisively, and resumed his writing on the same page on which he’d been working when Jamie walked in. 

Jamie closed his eyes and thought of Claire—of how she smiled when she looked at Brianna—how her eyes lit up when she was talking of some gruesome oddity from the hospital—how she—

“Well, it’s a damn shame,” the Major said suddenly, turning the page over and continuing his efficient script. 

“Erm…What’s a shame, Major?”

“You excelled in your stamina and strength tests. Vision’s perfect. You’re just about the hugest fucker I’ve ever seen in the flesh, and based on that punch you landed me, I bet you could take out the commies singlehanded,” he said with a laugh, “but that hand is a dealbreaker. A rightie needs a sound hand to operate standard-issue guns.” 

Jamie’s mouth was like sand as he rasped out, “Rightie?”

The Major slid the page across the desk, along with a pen. “Sign here, Mr. Fraser, and you’re off the hook for good.”

Jamie scanned it wildly. James A. M. M. Fraser.…Classification 4-F….Registrant not acceptable for military service.

Jamie was screaming inside with dawning hope and relief, but—

Forgive me, Claire. 

“I canna in honor withhold, Major Barrington, that I am left-handed. The injury to my right willna prevent me from operating a mus—Rifle. And I received that blow long ago. I’ve fought with it many a time since.”

The Major looked up from the document, his eyebrows drawn. “I say you’re right-handed. So, you’re right-handed.” 

Jamie could only gape, absolutely dumbstruck. 

Barrington rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated wave of the hand. “Do you WANT to go to Korea?”

“NO!” Jamie said at once, the vehemence making the Major sit back ever-so-slightly. “No,” he said more calmly. “Not at all—I’ve a family: a wife, a daughter, and another babe on the way. But I’m no’ a man to evade his duty. Aye, I’ve a great wish to be free of war, but none so great as to act so dishonorably.”

The Major actually smiled. “If it weren’t for the accent, I’d be convinced you were Captain fucking America himself.” 

Before Jamie could even begin to ask who in God’s name that was, Barrington stood to attention, and Jamie, bewildered, followed suit. “If there’s any dishonor here,” the Major met Jamie’s eye, direct, man to man, “let it fall on me, hear?” 

“Major…I canna—” 

“You CAN. You’ve had your war, Fraser. Go enjoy your peace.” He pushed forward the pen once more. “Now sign on the goddamn line before I change my mind.”

[more to come]