#man. what is the point i was like my supervisor yelled at guy in front of us when he was clocked out 👀

[lilgynt]

driving home crying wondering if my mom will notice and thinking about how she’s part of the reason i’m crying she’s not even home and i just realized she texted me in the morning to clean up the dog pee when i mentioned not liking my job i’m gonna french kiss a riffle

[leafyaa]

Chapter 16

Multiple police cars were in front of your house and you were sitting on the grass. Kunikuzushi was by your side pulling you close to him as you looked like you could throw up any moment.

He didn't know what was on the letter because his first instinct was to grab you and comfort you as you sobbed in his arms. 

You were not allowed inside so he put his jacket around your shoulders to keep you arm and made sure it was comfortable for you to lean on him.

An elderly police officer walks towards you, hesitantly approaching you at this moment, knowing it was a bad timing but also knowing he had to question you.

"Miss, sorry to interrupt you but could I ask you a couple of questions?" He said professionally, yet uncomfortably looked away. Fumbling with his hands which didn't go unnoticed by Kunikuzushi.

Kunikuzushi was immediately glaring at the guy but you stared at the older man in front of you and nodded.

You moved your head from Kunikuzushi's shoulder to make proper eye contact with the man even though all you wanted to do is wake up from this terrible nightmare.

"Please state your name and address first."

You answered with a hoarse voice and he continued.

"Could you tell us what happened before you found the letter at your door?"

"I was.. Walking.. Towards my house and.." You struggled to continue. Not because you didn't remember, but because you didn't want to relive the moment inside your head again..

"She found the envelope on her doormat. She picked it up and opened it." Kunikuzushi, who had gotten irritated, answered as he held your hand.

"Sorry but are you Miss L/n, I don't think so?" The police officer looked a bit irritated as his interview was interrupted.

"Does it really matter now? Can't you see how traumatized she is? Are you blind or really this stupid?" Kunikuzushi yelled, now standing on both feet as well, attracting other officers to also listen in to the conversation. 

"Maybe if you would just stay out of it, this would be much easier. I'm the supervisor here and you are nothing, a nobody." 

"Oh you think you are better than me, right? You worthless shit. Have you really gone braindead to not have a single ounce of care to realize in what mental state she now is?" Kunikuzushi looked the police officer dead in the eye as he walked closer while the police officer tried to keep his distance. You tried to get up on your feet, not wanting him to escalate the situation even further. 

"Oh so now you're calling me heartless? You disrespectful piece of shit. You young people are so rude and you know I can get you arrested." He threatened back but Kunikuzushi didn't blink once. He, on the contrary, smirked and stepped forward. 

"Try me." The simple words that set off the police officer as imaginable steam came out of his ears. Other officers quickly went over to grab him in an attempt to stop him, but it didn't work. 

You too, quickly run up, ready to defend Kunikuzushi from the unbelievably corrupt police officer. Using his title and authority to try and arrest Kunikuzushi for no crime or unlawful activity was definitely a crime. 

You stumbled in front of Kunikuzushi as the police officer was about to land a hit, instead of hitting Kunikuzushi like he was aiming at, he hit you right in the head and you fell back into Kunikuzushi's arms. 

It was like a dramatic scene as you felt blood dripping your forehead to panicked people running around. 

However Kunikuzushi was shockingly also part of the  panicked people and quickly yelled at the other officers to call for an ambulance. He looked furious. A death glare was permanently on his face each time he looked at the scared police officer. 

He held you tightly in his arms and tried to stop the bleeding with his hands, even ripping off a part of his clothing to try to pressure the point of where the blood was coming out. It didn't help much and the blood was dripping down your kimono, staining the beautiful silk that was definitely worth thousands. 

You tried to keep your eyes open but struggled as the noise mixed with your pain confused and hurt your head. 

You felt your vision fading away as you saw the lights of an ambulance in the distance.

Couple of weeks earlier... 

"What do you mean the bomb has been disabled??" La Signora yelled to one of her subordinates. 

"U-uhm well we just found out this morning.." 

"Be more specific."

"Well u-uh it's last known location was thousands of kilometers from the target's home address.. And then the mark on the map just disappeared!" 

Signora sighed, trying to compose herself. 

"And why didn't you activate the bomb as soon as you picked up any movement away from her home?" 

"Nobody was watching the bomb's location at the time.." 

"WHERE WAS EVERYONE THEN?" 

"We were watching her and.." 

Signora turned around, walking towards her desk and placed both hands on there. Her subordinates looked at each other with a knowing look at what was going to happen.

They quickly shut the door as Signora screamed. They could feel the feeling of vases being thrown at them even if they weren't inside. It was not the first time this happened. 

To shake off the uncomfortable feeling they quickly left and went somewhere else to hide and hope Signora would forget about the incident.

"Those stupid fuckers always fuck up somehow.. It was such a simple task too.."

Suddenly a knock on Signora's door interrupted her anger.

"It's me~ Can I come inside?" An all too familiar voice said and Signora didn't respond.

The door opened anyway, moving the broken pieces of a vase as well as letting the person who knocked in.

"What do you want, Dottore."

"Heard you from someone you want to take revenge on our dear Balladeer~"

"Just shut the fuck up and leave-"

"How about I help you with torturing him?"

Signora raised her eyebrow in interest. She turned around facing the Doctor and crossed her arms as she looked for any sign of foolery but didn't find any.

"I'm listening."

The Doctor grinned as he already had a plan in mind. He too wanted to take revenge on Scaramouche and make him suffer, however if he wanted to do that, he had to use you, Scaramouche’s dear lover.

⇠ previous ⭒ masterlist ⭒ next ⇢

Notes:

:)

Summary:

You've dated Scaramouche in your high school and college years but just as you wanted to announce your pregnancy to him he broke up with you without any reason. He left you to be a single mom for 7 years. But now that your daughter has been missing and abducted for a year and you've not been doing well and out of a sudden he showed up into your life again trying to apologize for his past mistakes..?

Taglist:

@swivy123 @kichiyosh1 @wwwrizchan @k1t0 @killumeow @pinkdreamerbailifflawyer-blog @samarill @xiaotopia @aqualesha @eattingshits @omoriaddict @mave-in @sketcheeee @xiaossocksniffer @elernity @ohmyfinggod @luvkvni @kunikissr @meadowofdarts @kaoriie @scaramochies @ekriis @rizakari @xxrexx @lovingveliona @magica-ren @lilybythevalley @theflatdoorkicker @lazy-sanns @reixtsu @fullw0rld @kunikuzushis-darling @childesgingerhair @kochothehoe @mercy-not-merci @ash1

[xxx-inhibitionless-xxx]

Chapter 34 : Night Two ( Aaron & Chad Part 2 )

 Brad nearly had another laughing fit, this is too much, he said, if this weren’t so serious this would be hilarious. You’re just going to have to man up Chad, there is literally no other way to get you guys out of here.

 After protesting a bit more, Chad finally conceded the point, fine, he said, just do it so we can get out of here. What about Aaron, he asked, he’s still locked up and I’m still stuck to him.

 One thing at a time, Brad said, let’s get you loose then we’ll see about getting Aaron down. We may have to hide you out for the night until we can get the keys to unlock the solvent in the morning, Brad thought out loud as he got some scissors from the counter. Ok, hold still so I don’t cut you, he said as he sliced down one side of Chad’s pants leg, then the other.

 Chad’s pants fell away allowing him to finally stand up which also meant that the raging boner he’d been concealing was allowed to spring out. Chad immediately used his free hand to try, unsuccessfully, to cover his hard on. Aaron and Brad just looked on in amusement as Chad struggled with trying to cover himself with one hand while the other hand was still glued to Aaron’s now hard again dick.

 Oh to be young again, Brad said enviously, play with yourself later dude, let’s get you out of here.  Brad turned and headed for the door while Chad, red with embarrassment, tried to step forward and realized his sneakers were stuck to the floor. Brad, Chad yelled to Brad, wait, I’m still stuck.

 Brad stopped and turned, what do you mean, he asked as he turned and concluded what Chad was talking about. Oh my god, are you serious, he asked rhetorically, just step out of the damn things, he instructed, leave them and let’s go.

 As Chad pried his bare feet out of his shoes and Brad moved to help steer Aaron, none of them noticed another figure taking pictures from the doorway until it was too late and the three of them headed for the door.

 Emmett, Chad was the first to say anything as he recognized who it was, thanks a lot dude. You knew that wasn’t lube didn’t you, Chad asked knowing the answer, I ought to kick your ass.

 Well well, Emmett said with satisfaction, looks like you’ve got yourself into a bit of a predicament. Don’t let me stop you, he continued, you look like you’re having fun. Who’s your friend here, Emmett asked as he looked at Brad then back to Chad, you didn’t tell me you were inviting anyone else.

 This is Brad, Chad answered, he’s the night janitor and he’s helping us out of the mess you got us into. Now just move, Chad hissed, we don’t need any more help from you.

 Oh I don’t think so, Emmett said with superiority, we’re not quite through here.

 Excuse me, Brad interjected, I don’t know who you are or who you think you are but I’m getting these guys out of here.

 No, Emmett replied, they’re not going anywhere yet and what you’re getting out of are your clothes. And before you even think that I’m kidding, Emmett continued, just know that I have pictures and a video of you cutting Chad’s pants off which I’m sure your supervisor or even the police would just love to see, Emmett continued to say as he waved his phone in front of Brad, Chad, and Aaron.

 You little prick, Brad said furiously, who do you think you are ? I don’t care what you think you’ve got there, Brad continued, you can’t seriously think I’m going to take my clothes off.

 I think I’m the one in charge, Emmett answered Brad, and what I have is enough evidence to get you fired or arrested, so yes, I do think you will do exactly what I tell you to do unless you want anyone else to see these pictures. I’ve already e-mailed them to myself too, Emmett continued, so don’t think you can attack me or anything and just take my phone. Now, Emmett commanded, strip.

 You little bastard, Brad said with derision as he hesitated a moment before realizing he really had no choice but to comply with Emmett’s orders, you’ll regret this, he added as he started to undress. Since Brad too was freeballing as Chad had been, he was as naked as Chad and Aaron in seconds since he had only his shoes and coveralls to remove.

Now, Emmett ordered, toss them into the oil drum. Brad complied, tossing his shoes and coveralls into the oil drum as Emmett moved over to the counter and grabbed the Quicktite. Here, Emmett instructed, you’ll need this.

 For what, Brad asked, what do you think I’m going to do with that ?

 You’re going to show us how a real man jerks off, Emmett answered with a very smug grin, but before you have your hands full we need to cut Aaron down.

[arrestedhousewifedevelopment]

Alright, so where did I leave off?

Oh, yeah—after over half a fucking decade of marriage, and being brainwashed by my husband and his family that I needed to have a "job" and a "degree" to be loved, my husband had just admitted to me that it was all a lie. The person he had built me up to be, despite my natural inclinations—which, at this point, were so broken down doll-like in deepest cavern of my chest—was the opposite of what he wanted.

In reality, he wanted a bimbo wife. But his dumbass parents who had half the chemistry of a Twilight movie had shamed him away from the idea. And I suppose we all begin life wanting to be accepted by our family, but whatever. A man is supposed to LEAVE and create his own bullshit, away from the bullshit he was raised in. Right? Right.

Anyway. I want to say I yelled more than I cried, but that's probably not true. I specifically remember yell-crying "is this a fucking joke" more than once. I was so pissed off, hurt and betrayed that I almost wanted him to be fucking another woman in that moment, guys. Right in front of me on the table. And you know why?

"Do you realize all that we've lost?

My voice hoarse, I talked about the bond we could have had. The earlier marriage. The babies. I had to beg him on my knees and not in the best way to have our daughter. I felt like a shell of a woman, disallowed to do what I knew I would do best. I had wanted to be a housewife to my husband for so, so long...and now that he wanted it?

Well, I was so pissed off, that I resisted it.

I went off and got a job as a pharmacy technician in the middle of fucking COVID. Because I was pissed. I counted pills five by five like a primal beast, and I hated it. But I think it was to prove a point.

You want what you want and your spouse isn't letting you have it? SUCKS TO SUCK, DOESN'T IT?

Of course, the whole pharmacy thing got real old. I met some cool elderly people but then my coworker accused me of sleeping with our supervisor and I left mid-shift because my husband makes 6 figures anyway and I didn't need them.

But I did want to be me.

I began to consider what would make me feel most secure if I decided to begin the bimbofication process. Having my husband yell "I WANT TO FUCK A BIMBO FUCKING HOUSEWIFE, MOM AND DAD" sounded good, but that still hasn't happened. More realistically, and due to many other factors, my husband and I decided two things:

Before we began the bimbofication process we would first, move. And second, he WOULD give me another baby.

[lassov3rse]

## SMART COOKIE

REQUEST :: Hey! Could I request a Ted x reader where she is like a super smart american who lives in london

WORD COUNT :: 1.0k

NOTE :: It kind of turned into a trivia based thing, so I’m sorry if it’s not exactly what you were looking for!

Ted loves to pick your brain, like all of the time.

Sometimes it’s football based things, other times it’s about England, and other times it’s so out of left field.

He also loves that you’re American. That’s not to say he wouldn’t be with someone who was British! But he does enjoy having the same home country background. It’s nice to have another person who usually understands his metaphors or his dad jokes.

OBVIOUSLY he calls you his smart cookie. By far Ted's pet name for you at this point.

Literally anytime you mention a fact that is out of his wheelhouse of knowledge, expect a "Hear that? That's my smart cookie rattlin' off her facts again~ I'm amazed how she crams all that stuff in her noggin. Couldn't be me!"

You honestly rival Beard in knowledge.

That created a friendly rivalry in the arena of trivia night at The Crown & Anchor.

Trivia night was something that you instated and had been traditionally held once a month for the past two or so years.

That's actually where you met Ted and Beard.

Most of the patrons at The Crown & Anchor avoided the designated trivia section. Rarely were there ever more than five or six playing for a free round of beer. If anyone else had introduced trivia night and let it fail, Mae would have nixed it in a second. But her soft-spot for you was the sole reason she kept it around. Mae knew it would crush you if it was to end.

You pushed through the front doors of the pub, nearly smashing yourself into people at every turn. You were late for that night's trivia game. It wasn't entirely your fault. When you went to leave your job--a boring office one in finance of all things--your supervisor began talking your ear off. Soon an hour had passed and trivia was already fifteen minutes in. You faked an emergency and ran out of the building as quickly as possible. You quite literally ran the entire way to the pub.

"You alright, Y/n?" Inquired Mae, sliding a pint your way.

"Never better," you heaved, continuing to make your way back to the trivia corner.

"Bullshit!”

Shaking your head you sat yourself down at a table.

They were already ten questions in and you were rearing to get going. The announcer--another trivia nut that frequented the pub--gave you a nod and wrote your name on the big white board, with a big fat zero next to it. God, how you hated seeing that zero next to your name.

There were four other names written on the board. The one with the highest amount was someone named Beard with exactly seven, Lynn with two, a Ted with one, and Chester with zero.

You scanned the area, looking for the winner. However, you did not know what "Beard" looked like. The owner of the name was foreign to you.

The announcer, a lovely older woman named Pippa, sat up in her seat and cleared her throat. "Which snooker player was fined 20,000 for assaulting an official in 1996?”

“Ronnie O’Sullivan!” You and another voice shouted at the same time.

From the same direction as the yelling voice, some guy let out a laugh. “Looks like you go yourself some competition there, Beard.”

Your head whipped over and you stared at the bearded man sat beside the one with the mustache. You squinted at him, more determined than ever to win.

“Ooo she has a fire in her eyes! You better watch yourself, buddy.”

You were more determined than ever to beat a man.

After that fateful day, you began to see the two men (who you learned were Coach Beard and Ted) everywhere. Soon you were able to spot them in the pub, the supermarket, and even just walking down the street.

At first it was mainly Beard and Ted, then slowly it just became Ted.

His face would just light up anytime he saw you.

Ted began this thing where he would ask the most obscure question--sometime he didn’t even know the answer and would have to Google it after you would say something--and see if you knew the answer. He would then hold onto that knowledge and get a little braggy about “my friend Y/n who is probably a robot but that’s besides the point” and pass the knowledge off onto his players.

He never really participated much in trivia night, rather he really only went to drink and watch you and Beard narrowly avoid screaming at each other.

Then the AFC Richmond players started coming to trivia night. First it just started off with Sam and Dani wanting to be nice and accept Ted’s offer to join him, and then it became a team-wide thing.

Bets would be placed in the locker room regarding who would win on the team. They never did win, because you always played, so there is still a big pool with around £6,000 (give or take) on Ted’s desk (in one of those boxes Nate help his niece create).

Because some of the players get mopey about losing, they become rotating announcers. It’s great fun! Especially when Roy is forced into it. God is it fun

Oi Keeley, please come fucking read this, my eyes work like shit in here.

Never fails to make you giggle!

It probably took seven trivia nights and surprise meetings (so, literally seven months) for Ted to get the courage to ask you out. He was just so intimidated by how secure you were in your person (as well as the knowledge you possessed).

One of the nights Dani was mcing, he had the question tossed into the deck of cards. The only people who knew of it were the Diamond Dogs and it was so cute and well executed.

Dani just stared at you with his mouth open after he read, “What is your ideal date setting, Y/n? - TED.”

Poor Isaac didn’t hear your name and actually answered the question. He got clowned in the locker room for a solid week before threatening to take away hair cuts for good.

You, of course, answered with something very stereotypical and Ted was more than happy doing anything you enjoyed.

And you two have been together ever since!

[thevoidscreams]

I don't care which slashers/killers you do for this BUT...... May I have some killers hcs meeting their male s/o for the first time? 🥺👉👈

also I know I need to get through what little writings I have planned done and out so I can do these in return and maybe do somethin for ya

I really tried here, I'm sorry if it's not exactly what you wanted. I love these two and I wanted to write more for them. Please let me know if you'd like me to change them at all or if they seem wrong.

Ghostface:

Danny Johnson did not have a tolerant upbringing. His family, despite lacking any sort of faith, was a family built on the foundation that men only slept with women. That's just how it was and that that was how nature had kept things going. When Danny realized he didn't just get hard when looking at naked girls however, life became a lot harder. Literally.

Collage was the escape he needed. He took off and never looked back. Ghosting his family before it was a regular thing. He could finally be who he really was.

The first time he saw you was at a party and he knew something was different. Just introducing himself felt like a life or death situation, he couldn't fuck this up. Some deep part of him needed you to like him, needed you to want him. Danny man not have called it love at first sight but it was definitely something. When you left you took his number and promised to hang out later. You had similar schedules so it would be easy. Right?

You threw a wrench into every plan he'd set in place. All his aspiring affairs with other people died the moment you gave him your name. Your perfect name.

Danny begins every morning thinking about you and would lay down at night with you on his mind till he faded into sleep. Everyday for months you plague his thoughts. Your chill sessions are basically dates in his mind. Even if it's just bumming it on the dorm couches with Mariocart and eating cheap greasy pizza. He cherishes every moment. It has to be more, he thinks, your too nice, too friendly and some of your remarks could be taken as flirting. You're not like this with your other friends. Just with him.

He plans to ask you out but for the first time in his life he's scared by the idea of getting a no. The thought of being rejected by you makes him feel legitimately sick to his stomach. What if he's misread all your signals and your disgusted by his advances. What if you call him all the awful things his old high-school friends did when he came out to them. He needs you to know how he feels, keeping it all in is making him feel anxious.

He was mulling it over in his mind when he got a call, answering it to hear your voice caused a sudden feeling of euphoria within him. "Hey, can we meet up?" Your voice was shaky and you sounded unsure. But Danny agreed right away, assuring you he had the time and was happy to meet up.

You two got coffee together all the time but today there was something more to it. The way you laughed and bumped his shoulder with your fist, the way you smiled awkwardly like you were trying to keep something from him. Danny was getting worried as he looked down at you. "Is everything alright shortstake? You seem off today."

You took a deep breath and looked him right in the eyes. "DannyIlikeyou" you blurted out cheeks red and eyes wide in panic. "I'm sorry I just I couldn't do it anymore," you looked away, "keeping it all in made me feel so awful and I just needed you to know. I'll understand if you don't feel the same way about me and if you don't want to see me again I'll understand that too but-"

He kissed you, right there in front of all of the coffee shop patrons and employees. To his amazement a few people wooped and clapped.

Danny pulled away, he took his coffee in one hand and then your hand in his other.

"Let's go somewhere more private."

He led you to a little pond, there were ducks and water lilies. It was quiet, peaceful, the perfect place to have a heart to heart.

The talk that followed was long and he explained at great lengths how he felt about you.

You confirmed some of the things he suspected, embarrassed by how easily he read you. At the end of it all you were both a bit teary eyed.

"So I guess what I'm trying to say here is, I love you." You did cry after hearing that, so happy and relieved he felt the same way. You kissed him, and he responded in kind, with only the ducks as witnesses this time. They didn't make a peep about the kiss....but they did quack.

Thomas Hewitt:

Tommy knew something was different the first time he met you. You were just a new hire at the meat plant but he couldn't take his eyes off you. The poor thing didn't know what to do. So he just watched. Intrigued by the feelings he felt when he did.

"Good morning Thomas." You'd nod as you passed him to get to your work station. He'd grunt in reply and nod. Happy to see you.

"Hey Tom, lunch time! Thank God for lunch breaks am I right?" Your hand was firm as you passed him, clapping his shoulder. He liked when you touched him, no one ever touched him unless he was also being yelled at. But your touch was different and it was good.

"See ya tomorrow Tommy." You groaned tiredly after a long shift, promising to see him tomorrow. He hoped to see you everyday for the rest of his life.

It was a system, a pattern, it was something Tommy relied on, like a clock, you were on time and followed the routine.

Except this morning, you weren't here. The supervisor was passing by to inspect the work station.

"Where the hell is that freaky bastard at?" He asked pointing to your station. Tommy shrugged, he didn't know, probably the bathroom. "Yeah well you might want to keep your distance, I heard from some the other guys that he's one of them men lovers. If it were up to me he'dhave never come here, but the boss says we're 'short staffed'." The snicker that bubbled up from him was disgusting and he mouthed off a few insults and slurs before walking off to finished his rounds.

Tommy was angry, more than usual at least. He wanted to take that supervisor's head and crush it under his mallet. Instead he stripped his apron off and went to the bathroom. Still a tiny part of him was happy, glad to know he wasn't alone.

The bathroom was never locked, it couldn't be, the lock was broken and building management was too cheap to replace it. So Tommy pushed through the door and listened. A soft rhythmic sound greeted him. Soft uneven breathing, muffled by the walls of the stall. He knew that sound, it was all too personal to him.

He stepped in front of the stall and their sounds turned panicked like they knew they'd been caught.

He knocked on the wood so gently and as it swung open he confirmed his suspensions. Your eyes were red and swollen, a large bruise on your cheek. Tommy saw red as he looked over your generally disheveled appearance.

You were trying to hide the fact that you'd been crying.

"Hey Tommy, what's happening brother? The uh... supervisor send you in here to find me or something?" When you tried to push past him to get to the sinks Thomas stopped you with one big arm.

"Uh you good?" Your voiced trembled and it torn Tommy apart to hear the man he loved so distressed. His big arms pulled you in, holding your smaller body against his massive one. He just didn't care anymore, he didn't care if you knew, or if the whole world knew. People already called him a freak for the way he looked. They were wrong, Thomas wasn't a freak, not for the way he looked or for the way he felt. Neither were you for that matter. When you hugged him back his heart soared. "Thank you." You cried softly, face buried in his chest.

The gentle giant wiped a tear away, carefully as not to agitated the bruise. He grunted and ran his thumb around the edge of the darkening spot.

"Don't worry about that, some of the guys found out about my...well I'm sure you know or have at least heard." Thomas nodded, still holding you. "We should probably get back to our stations."

Tommy was hesitant but he let you go to wash your face and fix your appearance. Things were going to be hard for the both of you. But hard was nothing new to him he was used to fighting for equal footing with others, fighting to get what he wanted always fighting. But this time it really was something worth fighting for. This time it was you.

[violettelueur]

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI || CHOOSE TO HELP PEOPLE UNEQUALLY

| featuring : fushiguro megumi ft. itadori yuji + kugisaki nobara from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and spoilers from manga (chapter 55)

| form : imagine

| word count : 3203

| published : 01 january

| synopsis : After being sent back to your old middle school: Saitama Urami East Junior High for a mission, you unexpectedly run into someone who you are all too familiar with.

| barista’s notes : HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE ʕ♡˙ᴥ˙♡ʔ we are staring off 2021 with a fushiguro megumi imagine that i have written and not to proud of to be honest....what an amazing start to the year ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ but i just finished catching up with the kdrama called ‘The Penthouse: War in Life’ and must i say, i hate all the characters in the show...like my mind is collapsing with the many plot twists here and there ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ but other than that, i hope you enjoy this cup of classic black coffee that i have mean. don’t worry, it is on the house ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡

Staring up at the view in front of you, you couldn’t help but admire the large building that you once was just nearly a year ago after you had graduated from middle school. To be honest, you couldn’t help but smile at the memories that started to recall themselves in your mind. Back when everything was just normal.

Moving your view from the top of the building to your right hand, you carefully took one more look at your illuminated phone screen to see the message that you received from your current teacher causing your mind to pull itself back into reality on the situation you were in right now.

Idiot Sensei: Make sure you are able to get enough information on what is going on with the cases, remember to go see your middle school first~ much love your favourite sensei ♡

Idiot Sensei: Also I just heard that a few jujutsu sorcerers from Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College have arrived, make sure to not blow your cover.

                                             ꕥ

“This is all the information you need”

Looking up at your teacher, you stretched out your hand to receive the file he was passing before you opened it to see what was inside, only to instantly be greeted with a few sheets informing you about a school called Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College.

“Sensei what is this?” you asked curiously as you scanned through the documents, leading to him walking behind you to then to peek over your shoulder before saying in glee “I don’t know~ I haven’t read through it either Y/N, let’s read it together!” which caused you to roll your eyes in annoyance.

“How did the school get so much information about Jujutsu Tech? How did they get the teachers and professional sorcerers names? Sukuna? What is going on in that school? Wait, they couldn’t find the student’s names?” you began to frantically question as you continue reading the file while turning over the pages to see if there was anything else you could pick up before you stumbled upon a picture of your old middle school, leading you to then read the page that it was attached to.

“So….we suspect that one of Sukuna’s cursed fingers is the reason why there has been a rise in deaths near your old school~ and from what we could gather, a Jujutsu Tech student’s sister is also cursed due to her taking part with the bungee jump at the bridge near there,” your teacher explained, causing you to then look over at him in more annoyance since you knew then he lied to you about not knowing what the file contained.

‘So you have read it….’

“Your mission is to get that finger Y/N,” your teacher then stated, causing you to widen your eyes at him. However, before you could even object to the mission, your teacher began to explain what was lingering in your mind the second you heard what he said. “The reason why you were picked was not only because you have been to that school is also because you are a special grade mage Y/N, I have confidence that you’re going to be fine~” he then explained before following it up by saying “good luck out there favourite student~”

‘But isn’t it the sorcerer’s business to get cursed objects?’

                                          ꕥ

“Ahhh, then why make me go on this investigation on my own?” you rhetorically asked as you placed your phone back in your black blazer pocket before turning your head once again to look at the entrance of Saitama Urami East Junior High, only to suddenly see the sorcerers that your teacher was talking about. 

From what you could observe, there were at least four people from Jujutsu Tech that were in front of you with one being a supervisor while the other three seemed like students that were around the same age as you, leading you to become more irritated at the fact that you had to put in more effort in your acting than you had originally wanted. Taking in a deep breath, you slowly began to breathe out at a slower pace before quickly making your way towards the school building. 

“To be honest, I was expecting someone from a different school to come but- oh, I guess they’re here,” the person mentioned, causing you to look up to find that it was your old principle that was talking to the students leading them to turn to look at you.

“Sorry, Was I late for the meeting? It’s really nice to meet you again sensei,” you gently greeted before bowing in front of him as well as the students he was talking to, only to suddenly be greeted with a familiar pair of eyes that you never forget the second you graduated from the school.

“Fushiguro? Is that really you?” you asked in a surprised tone, before immediately straightening your back to stand upright to take a proper look at the boy in front of you, only for the sudden thought of your eyes tricking you to be false as the person you called out was truly right in front of you.

“L/N?” Fushiguro questioned, causing everyone to look at the both of you in confusion due to what seemed to be a sudden reunion happening right in front of their eyes. “How are you? It’s been a while ha?” you quickly asked with a smile, trying to deeply conceal the shock and worry that was slowly manifesting in your stomach.

‘Since when were you a Jujutsu Sorcerer Fushiguro? That just makes my job worst’

“Yeah, it’s nice to see you again,” Fushiguro mentioned with a smile, leading his other two classmates to look at the sight in extreme shock since they never really saw the sorcerer smile before. “Are you still getting into fights?” you then questioned, even though you sort of already knew the answer.

“Not really,” Fushiguro replied, leading you to nod at his answer since you knew it was a white lie but not a complete one but you couldn’t help but hear a few giggles from his classmates that were with him. At least he was being somewhat truthful to you even after this time apart. 

“I’m Itadori Yuji,” one the students behind Fushiguro mentioned as he introduced himself with his index finger pointing towards himself leading to the only female student to then follow by saying, “Kugisaki Nobara,”. Giving them a smile, you then quickly introduced yourself to the two energetic students before turning around back to the principle. You couldn’t help but smile back at the elderly man as you faced him causing small but fond memories to reappear in your head again leading you to the desire of wanting everything to go back to normal again.

                                              ꕥ

“Y/N! You were amazing at the practice match today, we would have never won if you didn’t set the ball like that!”

“What do you mean? All of us won because we worked together and that-oh!”

Suddenly, you felt a small impact on your shoulder, causing the interruption of your speech leading you to turn around to apologies before you were stopped by a pair of emerald eyes. You couldn’t lie to yourself at all, they were the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen and you could stare into them all day if you could. “Sorry,” you quickly apologised before you were caught gawking at the guy in front of you leading him to apologies back before he continued to make his way wherever he was planning to head off to.

“Who was that?” you quietly asked yourself, trying to hide the fact that you were intrigued by the person you suddenly bumped into.

“That’s Fushiguro Megumi, I wouldn’t associate with him if I was you Y/N,” one of your teammates as well as classmates suggested, causing you to look at the girl in confusion as you wondered what was so bad about him - to be honest, it was odd for you to not know the person since you were also part of the school’s student council.

“He’s a delinquent, he beats up people you know, remember when the principal was screaming yesterday? That was because of him. Aw, I feel bad for his sister,” your other classmate muttered, causing you to look back forward at the person’s back who you learnt was named Fushiguro Megumi.

“He doesn’t seem like a bad person”

                                               ꕥ

“So this is what you’re up to?”

Looking up from his hand, Fushiguro came eye to eye with a female standing at the bottom of the pile of bodies. From what he could see, the person was from the same school as him due to the uniform that she was wearing but what made him paid attention to her was that even though she was wearing the classic red armband to represent who she was, she wasn’t yelling at him nor putting him in his place, rather just smiling kindly up at him.

“L/N Y/N, it’s nice to meet Fushiguro”

Now he remembers who you were. You were the student he bumped into the other day, but you were also known for being the setter of the school’s volleyball club, and you were also the person that had an early acceptance at the prestigious Dawn West Wing College. You were someone that had a promising future.

“Do you wanna come down? You have a nasty cut on your cheek,” you shouted, leading him to break out of his daze to once again find you smiling at him. However, what he didn’t expect was for you to then suddenly climb up the tower of bodies to reach up to him causing him to look at you in surprise at your persistence. Finally reaching up to the top, you tried to steadily find a place to sit only for Fushiguro to unexpectantly tightly grab your wrist, trying to ensure that you didn’t fall down.

“Thank you,” you said to the dark-haired student before you continued with, “let’s get down, I sort of need to get you fixed up,”. Once again surprised at your actions towards him, he suddenly felt you pull him down behind the pile of beaten up bodies, before unexpectedly being suddenly pulled up to make a full-on run for it.

“Why are we running?” Fushiguro asked as you continued to pull him to wherever you were taking him. “I don’t know if you had a bad eye, but the Principle was coming so we sort of need to make a run for it,” you explained, before rapidly turning a corner to what seemed to be a building that was connected to the main building.

“This is the sports hall, where the volleyball club practices and there is also a first aid kit there, so you can come in,” you informed Fushiguro before sliding the door open to reveal the nicely kept hall as you then disappeared into the building to find the first aid kit that you had mentioned. Following your movement, Fushiguro slowly took a step into the hall before taking a seat on the floor near it, patiently waiting for you to come back with what you needed to do.

After a few minutes, you finally emerge from the storage room with the first aid box in hand before quickly making your way towards the boy as you then kneeled down in front him while opening the box to pull out a plaster, some bandages, cotton buds as well as a bottle of alcohol to disinfect the wound on his cheek as well as a few cuts that you found on his knuckles.

“What are you going to gain for helping me?” Fushiguro asked you all of a sudden, causing you to look up at him before quickly going back to pouring some of the alcohol on the cotton bud to which then you grabbed his hand to place the substance on his bloody knuckles leading him to hiss at the sudden sting.

“I’m not going to gain anything from this, I just choose to help people unequally you see,” you answered in a quiet but serious tone. “There are both good and bad people in this world Fushiguro, but I choose to help people that I know that are going to do no wrong in the future, that is the type of people I choose to help. Someone like you,” you then explained, as you then began to treat the cut on his cheek after you had bandaged his knuckles.

“Thank you Y/N”

“No problem Megumi”

                                                 ꕥ

“You did really good out there”

Looking up, you found Fushiguro staring down at you with a bottle of water in hand as he stretched out to pass it to you. “Thank you,” you kindly said before taking the bottle from his hand, “I’m surprised you came, you usually don’t come to these sorts of things,” you then mentioned before taking a large gulp of water that you really needed right now.

“I just wanted to come to support you, and I thought you might need some help with those lot,” Fushiguro explained as he tilted his head to the side causing you to look up to find some boys staring down at you from the gym balcony, before looking back at Fushiguro who started to make himself comfortable next to you on the floor.

“Thank you,” you said once again before gently placing your head upon his shoulder to which you felt him tense up slightly, only for him to immediately relax a second later.

 “I’m really glad that I got to know you Megumi.”

Shifting his eyes down at you, all his saw was adoration and truth in your eyes as you looked onto the volleyball court where the other team were preparing to leave for their school after the organised match. Shifting his eyes back onto the court, Fushiguro couldn’t help but remember everything you did during the match, from the way you ran to the way you jumped to set the ball to your other players. Fushiguro couldn’t lie but admit you had talent. That was enough to put a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah, I’m really glad that I got to know you too Y/N”

                                                ꕥ

‘But that’s in the past now, concentrate on the investigation’

“L/N, you wanted to gain information for your project right?” the Principle asked, causing you to snap out of your daze to then quickly put a smile on.

“Yes, my school wants me to do a project about paranormal activity and how it relates to electric waves since that’s now some ghost investigation to prove that ghosts and spirits exist,” you explained as you tried to seem convincing as you could since that was the best explanation you could come up with.

“That’s a really weird project,” Kugisaki and Itadori commented, causing you to laugh slightly since it is something weird for a ‘normal’ school to set their students to work on. “Yeah, but I really can’t complain, I did pick the science courses for my subjects and it sort of relates to physics since we do have to learn about electricity and that stuff. Hella boring in my opinion,” you continued to express, trying to make the lie more convincing.

‘Well….that’s what I get for going to a ‘school’ full of mages, just like how you three go to a ‘school’ full of jujutsu sorcerers’

“What do you need to know dear? it’s the least I can do after all you did for the school as the student council as well as for the volleyball team,” the elderly principle asked, leading you to smile brightly at him as you began to list everything you needed to know.

“Strange rumours, dark rumours, anybody with relationships with bad adults or maybe even karma getting what they had coming?” you began to say, causing the principle to look at you in complete shock to which you then looked at him in confusion, “is there anything wrong sir?”

“Fushiguro said the exact same thing as you, no wonder why you two were best friends back then,” the principle mentioned with a soft laughing leading you to turn to look at the sorcerer, only to come to the view of him looking to the side with a light blush with his two friends looking at you with the same expression that the principle did a few seconds ago.

“There were students that were back like the ones that suddenly past away but they weren’t as bad as Fushiguro,” the principle stated, causing you to scoff slightly at the fact since he wasn’t wrong before the principle then suggested, “you should investigate Yasohachi Bridge, it is well known for this paranormal activities there dear,”.

‘The whole bungee jump mettle test or whatever it was ha?’

“Ah, those people are so stupid,” you muttered to yourself, knowing the reason why the Principle told you about the bridge and due to the fact that the sorcerers were here, they were probably told the same thing as well.

‘This is you sorcerer's fault for letting a special grade object let into the hands of some teenager, now Sukuna’s finger bearers are everywhere’

“Thank you so much for your time principal, It was nice to see you again,” you said with gratitude as you bowed down to your old teacher as you told him ‘goodbye’ before you began to turn around to immediately go to the bridge that was informed to you.

“Please come visit again soon!” the principal exclaimed, leading you to look over your shoulder with a smile on your face as you waved at him before turning to the Jujutsu Tech’s students to give them the same gesture to which then you started to walk away to head off to your next destination.

‘So I got more information than I needed but that’s okay, that means we got more inside information on Jujutsu Tech’

However, before you could even take one more step away from the institutional building, you felt someone suddenly grab your wrist leading you to turn around to look at the hand that held your wrist before quickly looking up to find the green eyes that were so dear to you.

“Is there anything you need Fushiguro?” you asked, as you gave him a smile leading to the noticeable light blush to appear on his face before he then questioned you by asking, “are you planning to go to Yasohachi Bridge?”

“Yeah, I just need to get some results for the project, I won’t be there too long if you are worried,” you answered, trying to end the conversation so you could go investigate the bridge so you could end the mission as quickly as possible. 

“It’s dangerous, you shouldn’t go,” Fushiguro stated, causing you to internally groan in annoyance since you already knew the dangers the second you got the file. “Like I said I won’t be that long,” you mentioned before quickly adding, “ghost ain’t real, I’ll be fine”.

‘I choose the help people unequally, and I’m choosing to help you Fushiguro’

[sevlgi]

sweetener

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: felix x gn!reader

genre: pure fluff

contents: baker!felix, awkward!reader, supervisor!chan, very very bad attempt at asking lix out, valentine’s day

warnings: none

synopsis: Being late for work is always worth it when there’s brownies involved, and the baker might just be able to change your life, and your Valentine’s day.

a/n: cheesy valentine’s fic :)

word count: 3.4k

Stumbling into Sunshine Bakery was a complete, honest mistake.

Of course you liked bakeries, especially the ones that smelled like pure happiness in the form of fresh-baked cookies and cakes. But a bakery was an exciting place, a stop that you didn’t have time for on your mundane, yet incredibly hurried commute to the worst job you’d ever worked in your life. 

“Y-yes, I’m on my way. No, I haven’t--” You sighed into the phone, mumbling apologies as you brushed into yet another person not looking each way before they walked. “I won’t be late. I promise.”

But just as you made your promise and sealed it with a press on the ‘end call’ button, you yelped out and fell to the ground, having been knocked over by someone passing by. To make matters worse, the other pedestrians continued to swarm, almost completely surrounding you as you tried to rush to your feet.

“Hey! Guys, let her stand up.”

“Sorry, Felix,” someone murmured after an unfamiliar voice called out. You turned your face up to the sky, almost as if you expected some kind of miracle to appear in front of you, but instead, you found a black rectangle just above your head and a pair of platform converse just next to you.

Then, a hand, which you accepted. Once pulled up, you were faced with a surprisingly friendly and attractive stranger-- slim, messy blonde hair, and the freckles scattered over his face scrunching with the force of his grin. The little plaque on his chest did read Felix, and as you were hit with the smell of warm brownies on the tray he held, you realized that you had managed to fall just outside the bakery that you had been working up the courage to enter for weeks. “You okay?”

“Yeah. I-- I’m sorry. For falling right in front of you.” You bowed, heat rising to your cheeks as you did. 

“Hey, no worries.” Felix’s voice didn’t exactly match his face-- he had a decently heavy Australian accent that only accentuated how deep his voice was, but he smiled in such a way that there was no way he could intimidate anyone. “Can I help you though? If you’re looking for a treat to bring a little sunshine to your day, I have lots of experience in that department.”

The cheesy line shouldn’t have worked for anyone. It should’ve made you cringe and apologize again before heading to work with a growling stomach, but for some reason, you couldn’t seem to do what should be done. Instead, you bowed slightly and let yourself be ushered into the bakery.

And somehow, the plethora of worries clouding your mind were set aside by the simple smell of pastries. Maybe it was a requirement to look like literal sunshine to be inside the bakery; after all, all of the workers and the customers wore a smile almost as large as Felix’s. He returned to the counter, though, and set his tray down before leaning on the glass display case to grin at you yet again. “So? See anything you like?”

“Uh.” You stopped yourself from saying something stupid and bent down to focus on the actual pastries inside. “The... the brownies? Those look really good.”

“You have good taste! I made those,” Felix laughed, pride evident in his voice as he pulled the doors to the case open. “Will that be one or two?”

“Two.” You watched him pull a paper box out, bright tangerine just like the menu hanging above him, and quickly added, “Could I get a coffee too?”

Felix nodded, turning to wave at someone. “Hey, Minho hyung! Stop flirting with Jisung and come make a coffee.”

Yet again, a pretty person appeared, this time a dark-haired man with sculpture-like features. He looked a bit angry as he ruffled Felix’s hair roughly, but he turned to you with a sweet smile that concealed his bullying of his coworkers. “Sorry about that. Americano?”

“Americano’s good,” you agreed quietly, handing Felix your credit card when he held his hand out for it. Over the roar of the coffee machine, you couldn’t hear Minho jibe at Felix, but you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at seeing the blond boy’s pout, either. “Uh, thank you. Both of you.”

“No problem! Stop in anytime,” Felix called out, waving and leaning on the display case again as you walked out.

As soon as you were hit with the cold, not-cake-scented air outside the bakery, though, you gasped and checked your phone for the time. 8:19-- “Shit. I’m late.”

Every time that you saw the face of Bang Chan, you cursed your luck with a passion.

It had nothing to do with Chan himself-- actually, you liked him a lot. He was the best supervisor in the entire department you worked with, but he just so happened not to be the one you worked under. He liked visiting all the different offices with a familiar dimpled smile, offering all of the workers the encouragement that their respective supervisors wouldn’t give.

So whenever word spread that he was visiting your office, you always made a point to be in the room, if only just to see his kind grin and catch a friendly wave. After the shitty morning you had, getting yelled at for being 5 minutes late, you made sure to be sitting securely in your cubicle at 5:45 pm for the dose of serotonin that you knew would come after seeing the nicest person in the office.

“Hey everyone!”

Chan’s telltale accent turned the head of every worker in the room; the chorus of “hello”s only widened his smile as he waved both hands, making sure to direct a smile at every single person. “I have a guest today, wanna see who it is?”

It felt remarkably like a classroom as everyone cheered, but you couldn’t help the grin on your face as you clapped too. Chan pushed open the door, revealing two people-- one of whom was very, very familiar. “Everyone, welcome Felix and Seungmin! They brought cookies for everyone.”

To your satisfaction (and slight impending embarrassment), Felix made his way in your direction with a box in hand, gloves on, and the same sunny smile from the morning. “Ah! I saw you this morning, didn’t I?” Felix asked when he reached you, holding the cookies out to you. “Chocolate chip cookie?”

“Y-yeah. Thanks,” you mumbled, accepting the napkin and the treat. “Sorry. Again.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s my fault too,” the blond boy shrugged, leaning on your cubicle. “I’m sorry, though, I don’t believe I caught your name yet.”

You pointed at the placard with your name engraved in black, but answered nonetheless. “Y/N Y/L/N, but don’t do the full name. I’ll think you’re my supervisor.”

Felix frowned, “Chan isn’t your supervisor? That’s a shame. Everyone seems to like him.”

“We do,” you laughed, shifting the cookie around on your desk. “I haven’t met a single person who doesn’t like Chan yet, we all wish he was our supervisor. He’s a lot better than Mr. Kim, anyway. You didn’t hear it from me, but we’re all only working for promotions so we can leave. When Chan brings us cookies, it only makes us want to leave more. ”

“I’m the one who’s bringing you cookies,” he protested, smiling in tandem with you. “Is working under Mr. Kim that miserable, though?”

You shrugged in response, fiddling with a pen. “Uh. It’s not fun, that’s for sure. It just kind of puts a damper on our jobs, even though he doesn’t show up to yell at us often.”

Felix pouted in thought, but when he spotted the other baker making his way towards the two of you, he smiled again and asked, “By the way, how were the brownies this morning? I like getting feedback from customers.”

“Wonderful, but I’m sure you didn’t expect anything else.” 

Before you could say anything else, though, you were cut off by the other baker, the one you remembered to be Seungmin. “Hey, Felix! Minho hyung wants us to get back soon, rush hour’s starting.”

Felix shouted back in response, then turned back to you with a grin. “I’m glad you liked them. Will you pop back in sometime? Tomorrow, maybe? I’m always in the shop if you want to see me, and I come to visit Chan sometimes, too.”

You wished you could say no; you had to be working towards a promotion that would get you out of the office and out of Mr. Kim’s grasp. You didn’t have time for bakeries or the bakers inside, just as sweet as the treats they made. But you found yourself smiling, nodding, as Felix pulled away to join his friend. “Yeah. Tomorrow morning, if I can.”

“Okay. Nice meeting you, Y/N,” he waved, jogging to catch up to Seungmin, who had already stepped out of the office with Chan.

As soon as he was gone and everyone around you was caught up in their work, you allowed yourself to bite into a cookie-- and instantly regretted it. Because with the warmth of it, the sweetness of the treat- you knew you’d get addicted. To the cookie, and to the sweet boy who had handed it to you.

Fuck.

You didn’t exactly know what made you apprehensive about stepping back into Sunshine Bakery, but you did know that your hands were sweaty on the strap of your bag. You knew that your lip hurt from biting down on it, you knew that your shoes were tapping impatiently, and-- you knew that someone was waving at you and opening the door for you.

“Why’re you standing outside?” he grinned. You didn’t recognize him-- he was shorter than both Minho and Seungmin, with a wide grin and blonde hair hidden under a beanie. “Waiting for something?”

“Uh. F-Felix?” you answered, cursing yourself for stuttering. “Yeah. I’m looking for Felix.”

His eyes widened along with his smile as he opened the door further, motioning for you to join the chattering crowd inside. “Ah, another one. Come on in, then-- Felix is inside, that’s why you don’t see him.”

Despite the fact that you didn’t answer him, the boy kept talking, following you into the bakery. “I’m Jisung, by the way. I think I saw you yesterday morning, before Felix called Minho away to make you a coffee.”

“Oh. I’m sorry?”

Jisung shook his head, making his way behind the counter. “No hard feelings. Minho needs some help anyway, he never works.”

“I heard that,” Minho grumbled, stepping out of the kitchen. “Oh, hey, Y/N.”

“You know my name?” you asked, brow furrowed. Thankfully, you’d arrived almost half an hour before you actually had to go to work, so you weren’t worried about your time limit.

The taller of the two boys nodded, reaching to wipe his hands off on a towel. “Yeah, Felix--”

“I heard my name and sensed something embarrassing,” the blond boy himself interrupted, walking outside too. But his face lit up at the sight of you, a smile crinkling his nose. “Hi, Y/N. I’m glad you decided to come.”

You flushed and nodded. “Hi, Felix. Um, could I get... the brownies again?”

“I’m sorry,” Felix frowned, peeking into the case. “We’re out of brownies today, we ran out of cocoa powder.” Jisung jabbed Minho in the side, and the two made their way into the kitchen again, arguing under their breath. The baker in front of you paid them no mind, asking, “Could I get you something else?”

“Anything you recommend,” you blurted out. “I... I trust you to choose something good for me.”

It should’ve been weird. That was a weird line, and you knew that if it had been anyone else, they would’ve been staring at you like they regretted meeting you. But Felix only grinned wider and nodded. “Okay. How does cupcakes sound?”

“Sounds great,” you breathed out and followed him over to the cash register. “Sorry, I’m kind of awkward.”

“Hey, I deal with Jeongin,” Felix shrugged. He handed you the pretty paper box and stapled a receipt on top of it before humming and typing into the register. “I can handle awkward. Have a nice day at work, Y/N. I have a feeling it’ll be great for you.”

You bowed again and accepted the box, wishing your cheeks weren’t flaming hot as you backed out of the shop. Jisung shouted something and waved once you were outside the shop, but all you could think about was that last line. What convinced Felix that your day was going to be great? After all, it wasn’t like he’d never visited the office, he had to know it was miserable.

But before you could think any more about it, you were pressing the elevator buttons like you did every morning, the numbers worn, and the doors closed in on you like the doors to hell.

“What. The. Hell?”

You stared at the cardboard box on your extremely bare desk, a contrast to the slightly decorated way you had left it just the night before. The box in your hands felt cold as you stood in a suddenly unfamiliar cubicle, all of your coworkers avoiding your eyes. “Did I get fired and no one told me?”

“Y/N?” someone called from the entrance to your department, saving the people around you some embarrassment. There was a woman standing at the entrance, with a sweet smile and long caramel hair that you would’ve appreciated had it not been for the idea of being fired hovering above your head. “Please pick the box up and follow me.”

Wordlessly, you did so, not bothering to wave goodbye to the others as you made your way into the hall. As soon as you were out of earshot, you blurted out, “Did I get fired?”

“What?” She flashed you a confused smile, stopping in her tracks.

“Did I get fired?” you repeated. You felt stupid standing there, your heels incredibly uncomfortable and the tangerine box carefully balanced atop your belongings growing cold. “I just arrived to see my stuff packed up.”

“Oh!” the woman laughed and shook her head. “No, no. You’re being transferred to Chan’s department, he requested it himself. I’m Sana, I’m his co-supervisor. He would’ve come to pick you up, but I lost rock paper scissors.”

And just like that, the smile reappeared on your face. Ever since you had met Chan, had arrived in the company, you had wished that you could work for him instead. On an all-too boring Sunday that shouldn’t have been spent office, your wish was fulfilled, and you bowed deeply to Sana. “Thank you so much,” you sighed in relief. Anything was better than being fired, especially this.

She shrugged and tugged you up, smiling, “It wasn’t my decision, but I’m glad to have you. You’re great, you know, we all thought you’d be promoted by now.”

Heat rose to your ears as you laughed, embarrassed, “Really? That’s a huge compliment, thank you.”

“Of course.” Sana pushed the glass doors to her department open and announced loudly, “Hey! We’ve got a transfer from Mr. Kim’s department today, Y/N will be working with us from now on. Give some applause or I’ll cut your salaries.”

Your new coworkers matched Sana’s joking tone by booing her, but you were met with some clapping and ‘welcome’s anyway. Sana shooed you to what you assumed to be Chan’s office and explained, “He talks to all the new recruits. Go, go, I’ll see you when you come out.”

“Okay.”

Chan grinned and waved at you when you entered the office. “Y/N! Glad to see you made it over okay, I hear Mr. Kim makes things difficult for some transfers.”

Shaking your head, you took the seat across from him. “Oh, no, I didn’t see him today. I thought I got fired, though, because no one told me.”

“Oh, no!” He laughed into his hands, and you couldn’t help but feel like everything was going to be better, just by moving departments and supervisors. “I’m sorry, I should’ve emailed you or something. Felix just--”

“Felix?” You tilted your head in question, your fingers ceasing to tap on your knees. “What does my transfer have to do with Felix?”

Chan shook a hand, the smile still there. “No, you misunderstand. I was already planning on pulling you from the department, hopefully after you got promoted, but you told Felix about how miserable your job was, and when Sana went to ask your coworkers, they all thought the same. So I made the call to transfer you early.”

You could only blink at that, rather dumbly. You weren’t sure how you felt that telling Felix about how horrible Mr. Kim was managed to land you an early transfer, and you definitely weren’t sure how to respond. “Oh.”

“So,” he continued, apparently not fazed by your lack of a response, “I want you to take the day off. It’s Valentine’s Day, and I’m not sure if you have plans...”

No, you should’ve responded. You didn’t have plans, and you had to prove yourself to your new coworkers, but then Felix’s smile and the tangerine cupcake box sitting atop your new desk flashed in your mind. “Yeah. A day off would be nice, thank you,” you bowed, almost missing Chan’s outstretched hand.

“Of course,” he grinned. “Tell me if you need anything, Y/N.”

You didn’t say anything, but just before you slipped out the door, you turned back. “Hey, Chan? One question. How cheesy is Felix?”

Finding materials for what was quite possibly going to be the cheesiest date proposal in your life (to someone who might not even like you back) turned out to take a lot longer than you thought it would. 

So by the time you finally managed to lug your proposal all the way to Sunshine Bakery, the sun was setting and you were hoping for your miraculous luck of the day to not fail you.

And thankfully, when you arrived, someone was just starting to turn the lights off and come outside. Someone with blonde hair, in a beanie and a tangerine apron, and someone who jumped slightly when he turned to find you outside. But Felix waved and opened the door for you with a huge grin. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? Late Valentine’s shopping?”

“Not exactly,” you breathed out, gesturing to the honestly heavy box in your hands. “Uh, I got you flours.”

You were sure that steam was practically coming out of your ears with how embarrassed you were; to be honest, you had never said such a cheesy thing in your life, and you had never wanted to, but Felix’s smile was practically touching his ears as he reached out to take the box from you. The little brown bags had heart-shaped stickers on them, and Felix looked like he was about to melt when he noticed the details. “Is this your incredibly cheesy way of asking a baker out?” he laughed.

“Depends,” you shrugged. “Is it working?”

Felix nodded mock-seriously and jerked his head towards the dimmed bakery. “It is absolutely working. D’you wanna come in?”

You moved to open the door for him, then followed the baker to the kitchen. He set the box of flour down with a grunt, but the grin never left his face. “It’s not going to be much of a date, but we have some great Valentine’s desserts prepped for tomorrow,” he explained and disappeared into the kitchen. “You can sit anywhere, by the way.”

“It’s okay, I’ve always dreamed of watching a cute boy bake,” you joked and sat down on the stools before the counter.

Felix’s voice traveled well even from inside the kitchen, echoing on the walls. “Really? You think I’m cute?”

“Well, I pulled that stupid date proposal off,” you grumbled. “I better think you’re cute.”

He didn’t respond, only arrived again with two heart-shaped cakes in hand and some icing smudged on his face. “Happy Valentine’s day, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Lix,” you smiled. There was more than one meaning to the ‘thanks’, and you assumed that the blonde boy understood as he handed you one of the cakes. 

In the mostly dark bakery, Felix’s grin and the LED lights of the kitchen behind him the only things lighting your way, Valentine’s Day was a hell of a lot better than you’d imagined.

[harryspet]

dark peter parker x innocent naive reader (or ofc it doesn’t matter) non-con fic?

CAMP KISSLESS | peter parker

[WARNINGS] dark peter parker x reader (Y/N), virgin reader, noncon sex, outdoor/car sex (public?), peter isn’t very friendly neighborhood spidery in this

A/N: I’ve wanted to do a camp au for a little while so that’s why I chose this setting! This ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. Read at your own risk.

In which your the new camp counselor and you’re excited to start your job but Peter has other plans for your summer.

word count: 2.7k

It was gonna be a great summer. 

It wasn’t your first summer at Camp. No, your parents drove you to upstate New York every summer since you were eight and you stayed at Camp Moonfall for three weeks out of the summer. You always made the best memories there but, now that you were older, you were saving up for college next semester. Now that you were eighteen, you felt responsible enough to get a job and of course, Peter put in a good word for you. 

You remembered the summer before, all the counselors had let you join them around the fire since you were older. That’s when the game of never have I ever happened and that’s when you changed the way you looked at Peter. You always thought he was cute but with him smiling around all his friends, the firelight illuminating his skin, you developed a small crush. He was a year older than you and you remembered saying how you were going to miss him during your Senior Year. 

He smiled at you, of course, and your heart fluttered. 

It was in that game that everyone learned your secret about how you hadn’t even had your first kiss yet. They looked at you, shocked, and you would’ve preferred if they had just teased you rather than pitied you. You didn’t care that you hadn’t had your first kiss because you were waiting for magic. You wanted to settle for nothing less. 

“So who’s first on your list?” Peter had asked you and you raised an eyebrow. He turned his marshmallow over the fire, letting it brown, “Your kiss list? Who’s your dream first kiss?”

“Thor, I think,” You joke to Peter and he only rolled his eyes. 

“Haha, Y/N,” He spoke sarcastically, “But I’m serious, who’s number one?” For a moment, looking in his eyes, you could’ve sworn he wanted you to say him. 

“I don’t have one,” You slouched back in your chair, “Whoever it is, I want them to be the one I marry.”

All of their eyes turned to you, even Peter as if you had said something offensive, “What?” you asked. 

“You should save it for as long as you can, Y/N?” MJ said across from you, easing the tension, “High school boys are Satan's spawn. And I hear college boys aren’t far off.”

+

For the first day of camp, your outfit consisted of a tie-dyed t-shirt and a pair of running shorts. You had dreamed of carrying the clipboard you now possessed. Along with the wooden whistle around your neck, you felt complete.

MJ pointed at a gray minivan parked in a long line of cars where parents were unpacking their kids, “Y/N, can you check them in?” You immediately nodded 

She remembered her training, all eight hours of it, and took a deep breath as she approached the family. The Dad was lugging things out of the trunk and the mom was rustling around with her triplets. 

“Good morning, campers! I’m Y/N” You greeted them with a wide smile, hands tight around your clipboard. The kids didn’t seem to care much about you but you could get used to that, not every child was gonna fall in love with you, “Hope you all are excited for the best three weeks of your year. Can I get the last name?”

“We’re the Nelson’s,” The woman muttered, clearly not excited to hear your chipper voice this early in the morning. She pointed to each child and named them off. 

You looked down the long list of names and easily found the three Nelson’s. You took a look at each boy, knowing you’d have to remember all of them, “There, found ya! Are these all of their things?”

The father nodded, three suitcases and several pool noodles on the ground, “You got a bellhop, Betty?” He spoke, clearly not bothered to know your name. 

You looked down, still trying to smile wide as you crossed off the names, “Uhm, if you carry your things over there, someone will be there to carry their things to their cabin. Someone will also be there to take the boys down by the lake and they can join in the welcome festivities. You guys can say goodbye there and that’s when your vacation begins, Mom and Dad.”

You expected a smile or a nod of approval but you got cold stares, “We want to make sure they get settled in and see where they will be living. You can’t expect us to say goodbye now.”

Your smile fell a little bit but you kept your composure, “Well, here at Camp Moonfall, we want to keep the goodbyes short. When you took the tour, you were able to see the campsite. It’s very safe. We just find it’s easier for kids to adjust without the big, emotional goodbyes. It helps the homesickness when you start the fun right away,” You thought your smile would somehow lift their spirits but it only crushed yours. 

“Could you stop smiling like an idiot? You’re an adult, aren’t you? They must be hiring the mentally incompetent here, Diane,” The father said to the mother. 

Your heart sank and your lips parted to say something but the words didn’t leave, “I’m going to that cabin, sweetheart. Do you know what it’s like to give birth to triplets? I spent nine months with these kids and you aren’t gonna rip them away from me. I was in labor for twenty hours!”

“I-I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just telling you the camp policy. We just find that it works best-”

The dad interrupted, mimicking your voice, “We just find that it works best. God, Diane, I told you this was a bad idea.”

“My mother said this would be a good experience for them!” The Mom yelled back at the husband, she held her boys closer to her, “The boys are not staying here. It seems like there’s something in the water here anyways …” The woman scowled at you. 

“I-I can g-get my supervisor-”

“And now she’s stuttering,” The father rolled his eyes, starting to grab their things and put them back in trouble, “Get in the car boys.”

How could your first time at this have gone so wrong? You clutched the clipboard to your chest, tears stinging your eyes. 

A second later you felt a hand on your shoulder, “What’s going on, Y/N?” He looked at the family then back at you. 

You just shook your head. He could tell you were about to start bawling, “Hey, hey, it’s okay. Go back to your Cabin and collect yourself,” You nodded and instantly walked away. 

You heard Peter talking to the family, hoping to solve the issue so that the boys didn’t miss out on camp because of their crazy parents.

+

“I did it. I saved the triplets,” Peter entered the girl counselor’s cabin, a soft grin on his face. He saw where you were laying on your twin bed and sat down on the edge, “I might regret it later because the funny looking one with the mo-hawk looks like a biter.” 

You didn’t laugh, just pressed your face further into the pillow. Peter’s hand rested on the small of your back. You felt him start to rub circles there and that level intimacy enticed you as much as it scared you.

“I suck,” You spoke but it came out muffled. 

“You don’t suck,” Peter insisted, “They sucked, hard,” That made you laugh. You turned your body to look at him and his hand moved to your waist, “You’re gonna have a good rest of the day. You’re gonna go swimming, eat hotdogs, and play way too many rounds of hide and seek. It’s gonna be awesome and you’re gonna have to perk up if you want to steal my title as everyone’s favorite counselor.”

You snorted, “Really? I recall Ned being everyone’s favorite last year.”

Peter faked a frown, “The man can make a mean s’ more.” 

Absentmindedly, your hand touched his and you moved it away quickly. Too quickly, “You’re right,” you coughed awkwardly, “Today will be good.”

Something clicked, you could see it in his eyes that something had shifted. 

“Do you want to come on a drive with me tonight, after everyone’s in bed. I have a view I want to show you.”

“Isn’t that not allowed?”

“I’m head counselor, Y/N. Plus, I’m Spiderman. Who’s gonna fire me?” 

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, but we’re back before midnight.”

+

For such a techy guy, Peter’s car was more run down than you expected, “What? She’s a passion project,” He said, touching the dash as if he believed the car was actually a person. 

Peter was right, you had a great day. The kids loved you and you even had one of Ned’s famous s' mores. You had a feeling the night might even get a little better. The way Peter was looking at you was how you’d always wanted to be looked at by someone. 

The car turned on onto a dirt road and it seemed you were on it for ten minutes before suddenly a valley opened up before you. Peter parked the car so the trunk was facing an amazing view. You got out of the rusty truck with your flashlight shining for extra light. You really didn’t need it because the moon was full and the stars were shining so bright.

They illuminated the valley and the beautiful mountain range in front of you, “Wow,” your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and Peter looked at you as if you were the cutest thing in the world. 

“Just wait,” Peter opened up the back of the pick-up trunk and there laid a bunch of blankets and pillows. He kicked off his shoes, climbing in and setting the lantern down. He patted the spot beside him, “You can see the stars better if you lay down.”

You would’ve thought this idea was the most romantic thing in the world if you didn’t get so terrified at that moment. This was like … a date. At least, to her, these weren’t things normal friends did. Not when they held your waist and looked at you like that. 

You played with your fingernails, “Uhm..” Your voice trailed off. 

Peter had already laid down, expecting you to join him. He sat up on his elbows, “Y/N?”

You could do this. 

You climbed up into the truck, crawling beside him but leaving a few feet in between you. You let the small lantern keep you separated, “D-Did you only bring me here because of what happened earlier, Peter?”

You looked up at the stars and it was breathtaking.

“No,” Peter laughed nervously. “I just … It just made me realize something.”

“Realize what?”

You turned your head and realized he was already looking at you, “That I wanted to get to know you. You were still nice to those people even after they were so rude to you. It made me …” His voice trailed off and his eyes shut as if he didn’t want to admit what was next, “It made me want to protect you.”

Was this it? The magic you always wanted. 

“You don’t … y-you, don’t have to protect me, Peter.”

He laid his hand out and you surprise yourself when you pressed your hands to his, “But I want to,” He said. 

“I don’t know how to do things like this,” You admitted. 

“It’s okay, I can show you,” Peter said quickly, “Not that I’m super experienced either. But, as you can see, I’m pretty good at choosing romantic locations.”

You blushed and he interlaced your fingers. 

You laid there for a while, pointing out constellations and making jokes about the new ones you made up. 

“There, I found it!” Peter pointed up but there were so many stars that you couldn’t tell which one he was looking at. 

“What is it?”

“It’s you, can’t you see it?” You shook your head, leaning closer to him so you could try to see from his perspective. As you moved closer, Peter turned his head towards you, “Take my word for it, it’s as beautiful as you look right now.”

You looked at him too and you stared until Peter leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. Magic. This was magic. You weren’t sure how to move your lips but you just pressed yourself further into him. 

As you pulled away to catch your breath, you smiled, “Was that good?”

Peter nodded, “Yeah,” and he pressed his lips against yours again, his hand on your waist, “I’ve wanted to do that since last summer.”

You pulled away, “You’ve liked me for that long?” 

He tried to kiss you again, pulling your body into his, “Of course, you’re so beautiful … and innocent.” And naive, you thought. You didn’t want him to think of you as innocent. You didn’t want that to be the reason he liked you. 

You pressed a hand to his chest, trying to create distance, “Peter, maybe we should go back now. What if someone notices we’re gone?” He held you tighter and your heart raced, “Peter, I-I think we’re moving too fast.”

“This is what people who like each other do, Y/N?” He buried his head into your neck and began to kiss the skin there, “You don’t like me?” His breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine. 

“P-Please, please, Peter,” You begged, struggling against him. He soon was on top of you and, as you tried to escape his grasps, he pinned your arms above your head. You screamed for help and Peter only frowned. 

“No one’s gonna hear you,” He sounded annoyed. Who was this boy above you? Was he always a wolf in sheep’s skin? All these years? 

“Peter, you saved me today,” You tried to reason with him, “Don’t do this.”

He held your legs down as he ripped off your shorts with ease, “White panties? I should’ve known,” This was what he wanted. To steal your innocence and to hold that title forever. He spread your legs with his own. 

His eyes hovered above your own, his eyes staring right into, “What do you think people will believe? This story or that an innocent little girl like you wanted to lose her virginity with the boy she’s always had a crush on. Who do you think they’ll believe, you or me?”

You cried out but he shushed you by forcing his lips on you. You bit his lip and he pulled away, fuming and his grip on your wrist tightened, “We’re gonna have fun these three weeks,” He pulled off your panties next, stuffing them into your mouth to muffle your screams, “I’ll be gentle if you stop struggling, Y/N. I know it’s your first time.”

He positioned himself between your legs, pulling down his own shorts before feeling your sex with his fingers. He tested your reaction, watched you flinch as he stimulated that foreign part of your body, “I bet you haven’t even masturbated,” Peter growled, “Jesus.” He could probably finish just with the idea of you being so tight. 

He positioned himself at your entrance and you felt just how hard he was. You closed your eyes tight but they shot open as he slowly entered you. You struggled but that only made it worse. You were still, the pain ripping through your lower region. Tears were spilling out of your eyes. 

He didn’t need to hold you down anymore, his body was pressed against yours now and you felt too helpless to fight it anymore, “You’re gonna be mine, Y/N,” Peter whispered in your ear, tasting your tears with his tongue, “Only mine.”

As he rubbed your sensitive area and moved in and out, you hated that you were getting used to it. You hated that it was starting to feel pleasure. Peter noticed that you were getting wet and that only made him start to thrust his hips faster. 

Something began building in your core and you thought you might explode. Your body convulses and your breathing becomes even more rapid. You tightened around Peter’s member, milking his climax out of him as you did the same but against your will. Peter slammed his hand down beside your head, groaning loudly as he finished inside of you.

You were his for the rest of camp and you were not to tell anyone what happened. 

“This is gonna be such a good summer, Y/N.”

+

Feel free to request some drabbles! If you want more dark peter than check out my masterlist!

[evera6234]

Gotham’s Salty WIP: Chapter II

CHAPTER I

RATING: T (Teen for cursing and stuff, this may change)

SUMMARY: 

Basically, the typical Daminette with a bit of lime and spice. Borderline crack fic bc i cant without humor. 

Marinette Dupain-Cheng goes to Gotham whilst carrying three years worth of emotional baggage, what she does with it, we don't know. Does she lug it around? Probably. Does she kick it off a skyscraper? Not probable, but maybe. Does she use it to drop kick an unsuspecting liar. Most definitely.                ~~~> EDITED BY OLLIETHETURTLE ON AO3

Transferred from AO3. 

Lemme know if u wanna be tagged

   “Yeah, your signatures don’t line up…” says the man at the front desk. “You said your name was… Lila Rossi, right? I’m looking for a... Marinette Dupain-Cheng?”

   “Present,” an amused Marinette announces.

   “No! There must have been a mistake. I personally talked to Brucie and his 4 sons, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, Dick Drake and my precious Damibear!”

   “Yeah no. That 100% didn’t happen. 100%,” the somewhat peeved front desk attendant grins.

   “How dare you talk to Lila like that! What’s your name? Give me your manager's number!” Alya fumes in a french accent (A/N: total karen moment intentionally placed). 

   “My name is Andrew Winston, and my supervisor….”

   “Hey Andrew, what’s poppin!” says a voice. After observation one could say that said voice comes from a tall muscular man, with a white streak in his hair, wearing a leather jacket.

   “My blood vessels, Jason. My blood vessels. Why are you here? You weren’t supposed to be here today.”

    “Yeah, Dick broke his arm yesterday at home. He fell down the stairs. And since I am such an amazing brother, I decided that I would fill in for him today!”

   “You were forced,” concludes Andrew as he scratches out Lila’s name off the previously mentioned thicc stack of papers with a black marker. 

   “Yup.”

   “This is the class you are supposed to caddy around WE. And they seem to be a bit peeved right now.”

   Jason sighs, “Ok. what’s the issue…”

   “They are saying that Lila Rossi, here” Andrew points to Lila, then looks down at his notes “says she spoke to a Brucie, a Jason Grayson, a Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear to set up this field trip. My info here says that a girl named Marinette Dupain-Cheng set this trip up but they don’t believe me.” Andrew nonchalantly continues “Speaking of which, Marinette please sign on all the starred lines. Lila and her friend already filled out everything else.”

   “Tim Todd!” Jason chokes. 

¬`

   The tour had slowed down in the corridors of Wayne Enterprises as Jason let the students go on a quick bathroom and water break. Lila had left for the bathroom, and it is safe to say that Marinette learnt her lesson to avoid bathroom confrontations with Lila. They were never fun, and right now she doesn’t think she can handle a wet shirt in winter. 

   “Really, Marinette. You take credit for all of Lila’s hard work,” says Kim passing by.

   “Do you have any idea how hard Lila worked on this, and you know she hardly has any time to spare.” Max pitches in. 

   “Yeah. Lila worked so fucking hard concocting the names Jason Grayson, Tim Todd and Dick Drake. Sounds like the revamped cast to The Three Stooges,” Chloe crackles giggling.

   “I sure wonder how Tim Todd and Jason Grayson are today? Are they well?” Marinette questions sarcastically.

   “Absolutely fucking amazing after hearing that!” Jason wheezes, overhearing the conversation. Jason gave Marinette a knowing look that confirmed an earlier inference. This Jason was Jason Todd. This was priceless. 

   Adrien’s eyes narrow on his angered face. “What was she doing.” “She promised to take the high road.” “She only needs me, I’m her best friend.” He watched the situation from a distance, unnoticed by Marinette. But as sly he is, he did not slip Jason’s radar. 

¬

   “So y’all, 1:30pm. That means, Lunch time!  Right and you’ll be at the cafeteria, I’ll be joining you guy in about 15 minutes. So fuel up. Remember to show your IDs, lunch is on the house! Bon appetit!” Jason cheerfully announced as bows dramatically (like actors at the end of a play) and he turns around.

   A bit into lunch Mrs. Bustier came up to Marinette and Chloe’s table. “Marinette, can I talk to you?” asks Mrs. Bustier. 

  “Can I come too, Mrs. Bustier?” asks Chloe suspiciously

   “No, Chloe. This is just in between Marinette and I, sorry.” Mrs. Bustier replies sternly.

   “It’s okay, Chloe. I’ll be fine,” reassured the ladybug holder, squeezing the bee holder’s hand.

   “Ok, fine. Let me know if something happens.” Then Chloe leans in to whisper to Marinette, “Audio record it, just in case.” Marinette nods. 

   “Ok, Mrs. Bustier. I’m coming!” replies the bluenette happily as she follows Mrs. Bustier away from the crowd. 

   Adrien, from his table with Nino, Alya and Lila watched, “Hey guys, I need to go to the bathroom,” he said before standing up.

¬

  “Marinette you should be setting an example for the class. What you did today, making fun of Lila was wrong,” Mrs. Bustier frowned. “You of all people know Lila's condition and you should be more accepting of her.” Disappointed, Mrs. Bustier continues, “I expect you to apologize to her before we head back to the hotel.”

   “With all respect, no thank you. I will not apologize for my actions,” Marinette sternly begins. “Does the school have any medical record of her illness?” Marinette asks. “Why should I allow her to take credit for my hard work? And why do I have to be the model student who is obligated to be kind to everyone, when no one ever is to me?” Marinette, now more frustrated than before, questions the teacher. She felt a storm of emotion begin to stir. 

   “Because you are the class representative! It is your responsibility to lead the class with your example! Lila is a student with needs, she needs to feel accepted by all her classmates and it is your job to fulfill her needs.”

   “I’m sorry Mrs. Bustier, but sometimes I can’t shove a square in a circle. Sometimes I can’t do things. Lila is lying, and I can’t lie with her. I will not lie.i will not pretend to like her. And why must I be responsible for all the students in class, but receive no respect for it. Receive nothing but hate and insults. How is that fair for me?” Tears begin to collect in Marinette’s eyes. Mrs. Bustier, for the longest time, has been one of Marinette’s favourite teachers. The fact that right now Mrs. Bustier, couldn’t give less of a shit about her feeling hurt. 

   “I understand but what about Lila’s feelings? I cannot let you bully Lila. You are being selfish right now, I never thought you could act like this. I am disappointed in you.” Mrs. Bustier finishes as she walks away. 

   “What about MY feelings. What about me, what’s so wrong with me being selfish every once in a while. Have you ever looked into my family’s bullying complaints against Lila? What about me?” Marinette cries  desperately, as Mrs. Bustier walks away. “Why is everyone ignoring me?”

   “The real question here is, why are you ignoring me?” growled a voice from behind Marinette. “I thought you promised me to take the high road.” Marinette’s eyes widen as she realizes who’s talking to her. 

   “I never promised, Adrien. Not once. I can’t keep silent and alone for longer.”

   “You are not alone, you have me. And I even LET you talk with Chloe.”

   “Yes, I have Chloe and thank you your majesty for letting me communicate with another human being. And no, Adrien I do not have you,” Marinette raises her voice. “Lila has you, you only talk to me in secret. You let Lila lie, you let her hang off your pretty model arms when she wills. You are and were never on my side.”

   “So you really are jealous?”

   Marinette, delirious with anger frustration, her voice laced with contempt, “No, never.” 

   He looks down at Marinette and smiles “Stop lying Marinette.” 

   “I’m not.” Adrien looks back at Marinette, as if he knows something as he too stalks away. “I’M NOT!” Marinette yells. 

¬

   “So she said that she talked to Brucie, Jason Grayson, Tim Todd, a Dick Drake and her precious Damibear!” Jason nearly on his side from laughing too hard. 

   “DAMIBEAR!” Tim howled in laughter, with his hands wrapped around his torso to somehow hold his ribcage together. Both brother’s are laughing their asses off in Tim’s office.

   “I KNOW!”

   “Are we gonna tell him?” Tim begins to ask before he interrupts himself, “No! We are not. What we are going to do is call him that and let him figure it out, sooner or later he will meet the class and when he does…”

   Jason let the scenario Tim described play in his head, “YES! You now speak my wavelength, to be honest maybe Lila wasn’t lying. You may be a Todd.”

   “No fucking way am I one. By the way, you should check on the class, how long has it been since you left them?”

   “Shit! Twenty minutes! Farewell, dear Replacement.”

   “Have fun, report back on any juicy lies, specifically ones about sweet baby Damibear or even Brucie.” 

¬

   “What the fuck was that?” thought Jason as he heard two people arguing in a secluded hallway, “Marinette?” he thought when he saw the girl, immediately putting a name to the face. But he didn’t know the boy. Jason whipped out his phone and quickly took a picture of the situation, making sure to get a clear shot of the boy’s face. For research purposes.

Gunz Blazin: Hey Tim Todd

Gunz Blazin:  Can you gimme a background check for this guy 

(*attaches a cropped image of the mystery boy’s face*) 

Boy Wonder: ???Tim Todd???

Replacement: I gotchu fam. 

Boy Wonder: ???fam???

Boy Wonder: ???

Boy Wonder: Can I be a Todd too

Replacement: No you're a Drake 

   Jason heard a voice coming from behind him, “That’s Adrien Agreste.” 

   Jason turns his head to look at the boy again and hears more of the conversation. He turns back and she’s a tall-ish blonde girl with blue eyes. “You are? Marinette’s friend?”

   “Yes.”

   “And he is not Marinette’s friend?”

   “He absolutely is not Marinette’s friend. He’s the ass-hat who thinks he owns Marinette. Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?”

   “Yes.”

   “What if I just break his nose a little.” (Requested by Ollietheturtle, my new dear editor)

   “As an employee of Wayne Enterprises, I’m supposed to say no, but in all honestly I kinda wanna do that myself…”

¬

TAG LIST: @jeminiikrystal @demonicbusiness @i-am-ironic @woe-is-me0 @miracleofadisaster @clumsy-owl-4178 @onmywaytoloveyou

[lunarliza]

JJ Maybank Must Die | Chapter 2: Ping Pong Balls

fuckboy!JJ x Reader

series masterlist | chapter one

JJ Maybank is the island’s most infamous fuckboy- not that you ever cared. But when a group of tourist girls come to your surf shop crying to you about him, you agree to help them plot revenge. Sabotage is all fun and games, until you find that the playboy you were sworn to ruin happens to be falling head over heels for you.

Yes, this is based on John Tucker Must Die lol

Problem not solved.

You and Sophia eagerly sipped on your smoothies, waiting for the trio to show up to their five-o’clock session the Monday following the party. Alas, they piled through the front door with deflated shoulders. 

“Well?” Sophia perked, eyes gleaming, “How’d it go? Did you make him cry?! Please don’t spare any details!” Her palms clasped together in front of her like a kid who just came up with an evil-genius plan.

“Tell them what happened,” Annalise ordered Arabella, clocking the fiery-haired girl’s shoulder. 

Arabella sighed dejectedly. “Well... not exactly. So I went to the party, hoe clothes on and everything like we planned. Saw him, used my signature look and look away move, and it worked! He came over and we started talking and-”  

“She fucked him,” Maia finished bluntly, prompting a betrayed gasp from Sophia and face-palm from you. 

“Mhm,” Annalise added, “He whisked her away before me or Maia could get the chance to interfere.” 

“I couldn’t help it!” Arabella cried, covering her face in mortification, “He was just so... smooth and sweet. And those eyes! We started talking about sea turtles! You guys know they are my weakness.”

You couldn’t help look on your face. Arabella was sweet, no doubt, but boy, the girl sure was spineless. It was a good thing she was pretty.  

“He is the devil!” Sophia enunciated each word of her sentence and huffed. “This is going to be harder than I thought!” 

“We just need someone stronger! Someone with a heart of steel unlike this one,” Annalise added, smacking her friend on the back. 

“We could give it another go,” you agreed, “but who’d be our guinea pig now?”  

You pondered at the ceiling until you felt all four pairs of eyes practically stab at you. It was like jumping into a vulture’s nest. 

“Oh no, not me!”

“Why not?” Maia questioned, frustrated. “You’re the only available one left. Plus, you couldn’t give two shits about him. It’ll be like busy work to you.” 

“Yeah not gonna happen. Find someone else, please. This is non-negotiable.” 

Out of nowhere, Sophia seized your hand and tugged you into the back room of the shop. “Excuse us for a minute,” she said to the girls before shutting the door of the crammed space.

It was a good thing your supervisor left early for the day, your asses would be toast if he were to witness the scene. 

“I think you should do it,” your best friend urged.  

“Have you lost your mind?!” you yelled-whispered. 

“Oh come on, y/n! Do it for me. For Annalise. No! Do it for all the girls on this island who has ever shed a single tear for him!” 

You sighed heavily. “I can’t do it, Soph. I’m sorry. He’s terrible and Karma has her kiss for him, but not me. Also, you know how I feel about those parties at the Boneyard.” Your look grew to one of disgust. 

“Mhm,” she crossed her arms, “This wouldn’t be because of Pope would it?” 

“No!” 

Yes. It absolutely was. 

So you might’ve maybe use to have a teensy tiny little crush on Pope Heyward-one of JJ’s best friends. It wasn’t your fault he was so cute and smart... and respectful! 

The boy stole your heart and ran away with it when you were paired up for science lab sophomore year. Him, being the genius he was, always did the experiments so gracefully while you royalty fucked everything up. 

One day, you poured the wrong solution into the beaker and the goopy liquid exploded everywhere. However, without an ounce of complaint, Pope offered to stay after with you to scrub down the walls and tables. A modern day romance if there ever was one. 

After months of daydreaming about him, you finally worked up the courage to ask him to the end-of-year dance. Sophia and your other friends hyped you up as you approached his locker after school.

Much to you dismay, he said no. But he did it in such a nice way, you couldn’t hate him for it. If anything, it made you hurt even more that you got rejected so kindly. Ever since then, you never stepped foot near him or his friends, too humiliated to even think of it. 

“You’re a terrible liar, y/n,” Sophia stated. 

She then grabbed onto your shoulders to stare you straight in the eyes. “Look, I know you swore never to see Pope again, but, honestly, fuck him! He missed out on a kick-ass date. But think- you could kill two birds with one stone! Go to the Boneyard, look hot as fuck, dance on JJ a bit and then vamoose! Pope’s jealous and JJ gets a bite in the ass!”  

Your brows furrowed in annoyance. Leave it to Sophia to convince you into her petty ploys. “I don’t know...” 

She persisted further. “Okay, I wasn’t going to tell you this because I knew you’d be super jealous, but my cousin got me front row to Venus Panic in Charlotte at the end of the summer.” 

Your eyes jolted out of your head. “No fucking way!” 

You loved Venus Panic with a dying passion. They were your favorite band who never ever came to the U.S. 

Sophia let out a long breath. “Yes. If you do this, y/n, the ticket,” she paused, “the ticket is yours.” 

It was like pulling teeth from her to make that kind of offer. Damn her for being so conniving! 

“Alright. For Venus, I’ll do it.” 

“Thank the gods!” Sophia leaped up and down in the confined room, hugging you and thanking you a ga-zillion times. 

She looked as if she sealed a million dollar deal when you two emerged from the room. You, on the other hand, were ready to fling yourself to the seagulls. 

“Operation JJ Maybank must die is a go girls!” she announced before the group started frolicking up and down, earning stares from people looking through the glass. 

“Alright, alright,” you said as they settled down, “Now that we have that done, can we please actually surf now?” 

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

The night of the next Boneyard party, you and Sophia drove to the condo the girls were staying at. Pulling up to the building, both yours and Sophia’s eyes widened. You knew the complex was on Figure Eight, but you didn’t know it was that luxurious and huge. They even had valet at the front, and you were greeted by doorman on your way in. 

Apparently Annalise’s dad was an important rich man in Virginia. He remarried, and was currently honeymooning in some exotic island. Sending his condolences, he let her choose whichever one of his condos she wanted to stay at for the summer with friends. For some unknown reason, she chose the Outer Banks. 

“Party’s here!” Sophia sang when Arabella answered the door. 

You entered into the spacious unit, in awe. The endless kitchen was lined with white Italian wood while the counters were topped with the fanciest marble you had ever seen. The living room was the size of your house with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the island. And the view was spectacular. 

So this was how the other side lived. 

Maia and Annalise squealed when they emerged from their rooms and hugged you and Sophia hello. They had on silk robes with their hair up in rollers. The Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show had nothing on them. 

They handed you two some seltzers from the fridge before Maia dragged you to the gigantic vanity in her room. Eyeshadow palettes, brushes, and compact powders littered the surface. She sat you down and fiddled with the ends of your hair. 

“So, y/n, what kind of look do you wanna go for tonight?” 

You were taken aback. “I’m not sure. Maybe something natural since we’re gonna be outside?” 

Maia scoffed playfully and shook her head. “Y/n, it’s a party! If you’re not glamming you’re not scamming. Actually say no more! I know exactly what we’re gonna do.” 

And so, she worked her magic as you watched through the bulb-lined mirror. You asked her about the products she was using while she gave you the rundown of the importance of each item and step. She was very knowledgable and swift with her hand- especially when it came to the winged liner. 

You got along with Maia. You learned that she had a successful makeup channel and wanted to start her own brand one day. She also told you about her boyfriend and how he was in Thailand for the entire summer. 

After two hours of searching for lost lip glosses, waiting on Annalise to change for the tenth time, and chugging your fifth seltzer, the five of you finally made it to the Boneyard at its peak hour. 

Linking arms, you all strutted down the beach, ready for your mission. 

The four scattered when you reached the sea of people, leaving you to locate the blonde target. After a few minutes of searching, you couldn’t find a single trace of him or any of his friends. 

Heading over to the keg, you poured yourself a drink in hopes it would loosen your raging nerves. It also didn’t help that Maia’s bikini top was hardly covering your nipples. You knew a nip slip was just waiting to happen at some point in the night. 

You casually sipped your drink and circled the party again, catching a glimpse of the wavy-haired boy at the beer pong area. 

JJ slammed his fists on the table after landing another shot. 

“Fuck yes! One last shot and your ass is grass!” he belted to his competitors: two random tourist boys who were chugging at a ridiculously slow pace. JJ then proceeded to high-five his friend, John B, who you also recognize from school. 

“Don’t be a coward,” you muttered to yourself before striding to the crowd clamoring around a fold-out table. 

From the sides, you attempted a few of the “flirty glances” Arabella taught you but no luck. The boy would much rather bounce a ping-pong ball.

You resorted to crossing your arms and waiting for the game to be over. With no surprise, JJ and John B won as the tourons groaned and withered away to the bonfire. 

“That’s right baby! Undefeated!” JJ gloated with his hands smugly flung in the air. 

“Alright who’s next?” John B shouted, earning no response from the herd. 

Welp... it’s now or never. 

“I’ll play,” you volunteered and stuck your hand up. You could feel JJ staring at you quizzically.

“Alright, alright we have a challenger! But who’s your partner?” John B asked. You wanted to slap yourself for not thinking this through properly.

“I’ll do it,” a deep voice spoke behind you. You whirled around to meet eyes with none other than Pope. He stood cooly behind you with a beer in hand. 

You originally planned to avoid him at all costs during the party. But that all went down the drain as he set down his drink and started ordering the cups in a pyramid formation. 

“You’re going down Heyward!” JJ hollered, taking the first shot. The ball glided into the first cup with ease. John B’s shot followed, but bounced off to the side. 

Your partner grabbed the beer and hurled it down instantly, using his wrist to wipe his mouth. You snatched the fallen ball on the ground while Pope nodded for you to go first. 

So this might have been the first time you’ve every played beer pong in your life. But, in your defense, you’ve done it a million times on your phone. It couldn’t be that hard. 

You tossed the first shot and it wheezed over all the cups. Whoops. 

“This is too easy,” JJ jeered, eyeing Pope as he made the next throw. It landed in one of the back cups and John B swallowed the contents down. 

“Sorry, I’m just off my game today,” you mumbled to your partner. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You wanna know my trick?” Pope raised as another one of JJ’s balls flew into one of your cups. You raised your brows as he handed you the beer. 

“The more drunk you are, the better you play.” 

Guzzling down the liquid luck, you fingered another ball and took your aim. Flinging it towards the mass, you gasped when it actually landed into the center cup. 

“Oh my God!” you cheered as Pope’s face mimicked yours. He high-fived you with both hands as you bounced up and down in glee. 

“That’s what I’m talking about y/n!” 

For the rest of the game you and Pope played neck-and-neck with the other two, continuously making shots and chugging down beer. His tactic worked. You were on fire. 

The flock around you chanted your name every time you scored. You could see your friends hanging around in the far corner hollering your name and sending you thumbs ups. 

It was game point as both teams had one target left. It was their turn. JJ took the stage, chucking the ball skillfully. Much to your demise, it swirled along the rim before plopping in. JJ roared out in victory. 

“Hold your horses,” Pope interjected with a finger in the air, “We still have redemption.” 

“Let’s see it then,” John B panted, worn out from the tension. 

“You got this.” Pope patted you on the back and handed you the ball. 

Your eyes bursted. “W-What? No no no, Pope you go.” 

“Relax, y/n! I believe in you. Just focus.” 

You gulped and turned to the boys taunting you across the table. Saying the quickest Hail Mary in your head, you launched the ball and had to shut your eyes. 

A sudden rush of shrieks alarmed you. Peeling your eyes open, you saw both JJ and John B’s jaws plummet to the ground. 

It went in. 

“Now that’s what the fuck is up!” Pope hurled his fist at this chest. You were frozen in utter disbelief. Maybe the Gods were in your favor. 

Pope added two more cups to your side of the table as John B copied his actions. The four of you went at it a few more times before you were one-and-one again. Both John B and JJ missed and the balls rolled back over to you. 

Taking the first shot again, you slung the ball, but it flew off the rim. You were chattering on your nails as Pope proceeded to make his attempt. 

One swish and the ball landed straight in the hole.  

You both jolted up in the air, doing a little victory dance. JJ shushed you- ready to go for his redemption kill. His ball missed the cup by a hair and John B’s slid off the table, deeming you and Pope the winners. 

In your exhilarated drunken state, you threw your arms around Pope, and he let out a soft chuckle. You hastily pulled away after you realized what you were doing. Thankfully, the crestfallen losers immediately came over to shake your hands and say “Good game.” 

JJ’s hands hung onto yours a moment longer. He studied you with his eyes before treading away towards the bonfire. 

As winners, you and Pope stayed a few more rounds before getting beat out. You noticed JJ come back to watch you for a few rounds, eyes fixated on your every move. 

After shaking hands with the girls who beat you, you waved a confused Pope goodbye and jogged over towards the drink area for water. In the corner of your eye, you saw JJ hurry up to you with giddiness. 

“That was some game you played out there,” he complimented as you swigged down your water. 

“Thanks! Guess I just got lucky back there.” 

He leaned both arms on the table, raising his brows suggestively. “Might just be your lucky night then.”

Oh brother. 

You threw him an uneasy smile and treaded away to the dancing crowd. Of course, he followed you, struggling to keep up with your pace. 

“Hey, what’s your name? I’ve never seen you around before.” 

You scoffed low enough to where he couldn’t hear. Never seen you? You’ve been in the same classes since second grade. 

“I’m y/n.” You slowed down a bit, remembering your sworn duty. 

“Well I’m JJ. JJ Maybank.” He flashed you a toothy smile. 

You stopped amidst the dancers as a popular, high-beat electronic song came on. You flung you hands around JJ’s neck and pulled him close. “Dance with me, JJ Maybank.” 

The two of you rocked back and forth for a while before the music transitioned to a provocative rap song. Both you and the light-haired boy rapped the entire first verse with ease, giggling once the chorus hit. 

“So... how come I’ve never seen you at one of these parties?” 

You shrugged tossing him a look of disinterest. “Not really my thing.” 

He tugged you in so his forehead was on yours. “Then what is your thing then, hm? What’s a cute girl like you up to all summer?” 

“I’m a surfing instructor.” 

“Is that so? You know, I’m a pretty good surfer myself...” His hands traced down to your swaying hips. 

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you retorted, running your hands up and down his biceps flirtatiously. 

It was probably the alcohol doing all the work, because in that moment, you knew you were being absolutely irresistible to the boy who’s hands were burning to stay in the... respectful areas. 

“Maybe one day I can show you,” JJ rasped. You barely heard him through the booming of the speakers, but still locked eyes with him alluringly. 

“Mmm, don’t really have time for amateurs.” 

“Ouch... feisty aren’t we?” His lips were millimeters from yours. 

“Please, you know you like it.” You decided to close the gap. 

Boy, were his lips soft. His chiseled hands made way to tangle up in your hair as he expertly kissed you amongst the throng of people. He slid his tongue into your mouth, and you could feel how hungry he was. 

You stopped after a minute, purposely cutting it short. His eyes were aching for more, but you refused. You wanted to starve him. 

“Wanna get out of here? There’s a cool place on the beach I can show you,” he asked, fingers toying with the back string of your bikini. 

You shrugged. “Why not.”

Smirking, JJ’s hand snaked around your waist as he led you to the back trees of the Boneyard. You approached a small patch of sand enclosed by a circle of trees, and it all clicked in your head. This was his sex hideout. 

You glanced around the spot. The moon beamed straight into it, and the leaves of the trees hung down fancifully. In its own weird way, it was kind of romantic- if you didn’t think about how many times he’s taken people there to fuck.

He tugged you towards the center, wrapping you in his muscular arms. 

“You’re the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. I could just eat you up,” he muttered seductively, nipping at the sides of your jawline. 

You were beginning to understand it now- his irresistibility. The guy was charming. You let him kiss you for a little bit until you felt him undo your back bikini string. 

You quickly jerked away, tying it back into a bow.

“You know what, I think I’m good,” you said abruptly, backing away. 

JJ looked as if someone offered a kid ice cream and knocked the cone off the second he was about to dive in for the first taste. “Wait! Where are you going?” he urged.

“Away.” 

His face flooded in disbelief as he let out a loud scoff, darting after you as you jogged back to the dancing pack.

“Wait! Y/n come back!” he called out. 

“What for? I’m not sleeping with you JJ!” you shouted, making sure everyone around you heard. 

When his face went beet-red you knew you work was done. 

You sped up the sand, out of sight, to Annalise’s car where your friends were circled. They whooped and cheered at your presence. 

“We saw everything!” Maia exclaimed, hauling you in for a bone-tight hug. 

“That was so awesome! Y/n, you’re my hero!” Arabella chimed in while you all crammed into the Mercedes. 

“Ladies, ladies,” Annalise began before pulling out of the parking lot, “Tonight we celebrate the fall of JJ Maybank!” 

The car erupted in drunk glee as everyone swaddled you from their seats. 

As you drove back to the condo, Sophia rolled down her window from the backseat and stuck out her head. 

“Fuck you JJ Maybank!” 

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note: dw there is even more D R A M A to come lolz 

chapter 3

tags: @obxlife​ @rudyypankow​ @yeehaw87​ @ilymarkchan​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @tangledinsparkles​ @toloveortobeinlove​ @pixelated-pogues​ @normatural​ @teamnick​ @drizzlethatfalls​ 

[koala-otter]

park ranger zukka au

this idea comes from the lovely @s-sokka from the zukka discord!! 

features zuko as a park ranger, sokka as a pro-biker (it’s so late, I wrote so much, please excuse this summary)

2.7k words (remember when I said 1k max?? hahahaha)

Zuko had finally reached week three of his tenure as a summer ranger. Only seven more weeks, and he would finally be able to leave behind the Hei Bai Nature Reserve and all of its crazy nature lovers. When his uncle Iroh practically forced him to take the position—explaining that if Zuko refused to work at the tea shop for the summer, he still had to work somewhere, and better yet if he could do it immersed in the meditative balm that was the outdoors—Zuko thought the worst he could encounter was the humming mosquitoes, and maybe the occasional murder hornet. But he was wrong. It was the people. 

There were the little kids who dropped their snack wrappers in the parking lot, and their parents who covered them in noxious insect repellants, and the teenagers who carved their initials into trees. But those weren’t even so bad, because after patiently explaining the downsides of littering, the park’s tiny visitors usually nodded solemnly and picked up their trash, and the fumes of such sprays usually dissipated quickly, and when they had the rules explained to them, the teenagers usually had the decency to be apologetic. 

The worst, by far, was a young man named Sokka. Zuko had seen him plenty of times before, visiting the park with his friends, back before Zuko had known his name. Sokka usually hung out with a young, bald man with tattoos, and two young women, one whose resemblance to Sokka revealed her to likely be his sister, and another one who berated him while holding his hand tightly as they entered the trail. Zuko had thought nothing of him at first as he seemed like just another avid hiker, but all that had changed on his fourth day as a ranger, when he had seen Sokka for the first time on his own. 

Zuko was doing his ranger thing, checking on the different trails in the couple of hours before the park’s closing, when a blue blur sped past him on a mountain bike. Zuko stared after the figure for a few seconds before coming to his senses and chasing after him. 

“Hey! You can’t ride that thing here!” 

The bike stopped ahead of him, and the figure hopped off and took off its helmet to reveal a wolftail and two bright blue eyes looking directly back at him. Zuko tried to ignore the heat building in his face as he finally got to see Sokka’s perfect features and defined muscles up close. 

“Hey, sorry, man, but the terrain’s just perfect for my practice,” Sokka explained, tossing his helmet on the handlebars.

“There are bike paths for a reason,” Zuko said coolly. He reached into the pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a pad of paper. “I have to issue you a warning.”

“What?” Sokka said, pulling on his handlebars. “I’ll just go.”

Zuko exhaled in frustration as he scribbled on the pad. “It’s just policy, okay? I don’t want to do it, but I have to. What’s your name?”

At this question, a smug grin filled Sokka’s lips, and he shrugged. “The name’s Sokka,” he said. He waited expectantly for Zuko’s reaction.

Zuko stared at Sokka staring at him. “Okay.” He glanced down at the paper in his hands as he wrote it out, and then looked up to find Sokka still grinning at him expectantly. “Uh, sorry, was I supposed to know that?” He watched as Sokka’s face fell. “Do you work here, too, or something?” he asked in a panic. “Look, it’s only my first week, and I—”

“It’s not that, it’s just—” Sokka sighed and looked up at him despondently. Zuko thought there might even have been a tear in his right eye. “Do you really not know who I am?”

“I—no? Are you famous or something?”

“The pro-biker! Sokka! I won the Omashu tour!”

Zuko turned sheepish as he ripped the paper out of the pad and held it out to Sokka. “Oh, um, sorry. I don’t really follow sports.”

Sokka turned even sadder as he took the paper from Zuko. “That’s okay...Zuko?” he asked, reading his name off of the paper.

Zuko nodded, feeling vaguely regretful for some reason.  Sokka smiled sadly back at him.

“Maybe to make it up to me, though,” Sokka said, waving the warning in the air. “We could forget about all of this?” 

“What?” Zuko asked.

“You know, you could take back the warning,” Sokka continued, starting to hand it back to Zuko. “This never happened, that kind of thing.” He gave Zuko a hopeful grin.

Zuko’s expression hardened, now angry at the thought that he might have been duped. “No!” he barked. 

“Well, fine!” Sokka said, putting on his helmet and pulling his bike toward him by the handlebars again. “I’ll just go then.”

“Yeah, do that,” Zuko replied hotly. He watched as Sokka started to rise onto his bike, and stepped forward to block the path. He pointed to the sign nearby on the trail that read, “Leave only footprints. Take only pictures.” 

“And off the bike,” Zuko almost growled. 

“Fine, jeez,” Sokka said, hopping off once more. He began walking down the path in the opposite direction, away from Zuko, and stuck his tongue out at him. 

As Sokka pushed his bike away, and Zuko continued down the trail, he thought he might never see the other man again in his life. He sighed at the tire tracks in the wet earth of the trail. Never having to deal with them again left him greatly relieved. But, he had to admit, the sight of Sokka’s sad, blue eyes had left a series of knots in his stomach that would take a while to untangle. 

Then the next day came, and the appearance of Sokka nonchalantly fishing off the boat launch quickly proved Zuko wrong. As did every day afterward, as Sokka made appearance after appearance at the park, breaking nearly every rule there was in the park ranger handbook. Zuko turned corners on trails to find Sokka hand-feeding squirrels—“Snack for you, too, jerk?” Sokka would ask, while Zuko would point to another sign instructing hikers not to feed wildlife—or sat in the booth checking in visitors only to suddenly spy Sokka walking toward him with bunches of wildflowers in his hand—“For you, Zuko, even though you wanted to get me in trouble,” said Sokka, brandishing the bouquet in front of him, and Zuko answered, “You’re not supposed to pick the flowers, Sokka, just look at them,” and then took them and put them in a vase because he wasn’t about to waste them—and the number of warnings Zuko had had to issue Sokka in just a week and a half was unprecedented. 

“Is there a limit to these? I mean, is there a point where he gets kicked out?” Zuko had to ask Jeong Jeong, his supervisor, in the middle of his second week.

“I don’t know,” Jeong Jeong replied, in awe at the number of carbon copies of warnings Zuko had dropped on his desk. “We have never had to issue more than one to any individual visitor.” He picked up one for attempted overnight camping without a permit. “Have you spoken to him about the negative consequences of his actions?”

“Of course I talked to him,” Zuko replied loudly, clearly offended.

“Then try talking to him again!” Jeong Jeong practically roared.

Zuko started hiding the warnings.

But Zuko did talk to Sokka, and often. The time Sokka came to the trail with a lemur on his shoulder, and Zuko insisted the animal had to be on a leash to go on the trail—“He’s not a pet, he’s my friend, and he wants to take a walk!” Sokka replied indignantly—they settled for sitting in the booth and tossing nuts in the air for Momo to catch. Sokka almost got away without a warning that day, but when he laughed at Momo’s flying leap for a macadamia and said, “Hey, he likes them even more than the squirrels do,” Zuko had to write another one out. From the smile on Sokka’s face, though, it looked like he understood it as a joke.

Now he was on week three, though, and Zuko had a brand-new pen and pad for warnings, and the tire tracks on the trail had finally been washed away with a passing storm. He felt he could take anything Sokka threw at him this week, maybe even without shaky hands and the feeling that his heart was jumping into his throat each time he approached the other man.

Static sounded from Zuko’s walkie-talkie, and Zuko brought it to his good ear in time to hear someone on the other end.

“Hey, uh, I got a kid who fell out of a tree over here somewhere,” the ranger on the trail said haltingly.

Zuko pressed the transmit button and brought the walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Copy, this is Zuko from the central booth. What trail? Over.”

“Oh, hey, Zuko! It’s me, Chey,” came the response.

Zuko sighed before pressing the button again. “Chey, about the guy who fell out of the tree: what trail? Do we need an ambulance? Over.” 

There was a long line of static before Chey’s voice came back. “I don’t think so,” he said slowly. “I mean, the guy said no, and he looks pretty all right to me. He’s asking for you to come get him.” The static returned once more before clearing abruptly. “Oh, and he says his name is Sokka. Do you two know each other?”

Zuko set down the walkie-talkie and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Copy,” he finally said when he picked the walkie-talkie back up, “I’ll go for him, and you come back and man the booth. And Chey?” 

“Yeah?”

“For the last time, what trail?”

Zuko found himself running down the Panda Lily trail, the first aid kit bouncing at his side as he nearly tripped over the laces of his hiking boots and barely avoided the mud puddles that threatened to suck him in. He passed so many trees, from rhododendron trees to birches and redwoods and everything in between, but none of them had dropped Sokka from their branches, so Zuko kept going. He reached a fork in the trail and stopped abruptly at the tree between the diverting roads, and scanned it for any signs. There were none. He stepped back. 

“Sokka?” he yelled, his voice hoarse as he cupped his mouth with his hands. “Sokka, where are you?”

A beat passed, and then, from far away, he heard, “Zuko!”

Zuko took off down the road on the right, and finally, he spotted Sokka in the distance, leaning against the trunk of a banyan tree. His right leg was bent, and he leaned on it with his elbow, but the other was out in front of him at an odd angle, seemingly useless. He greeted Zuko with a strained grin.

“My knight in shining armor,” said Sokka.

“Ugh, I definitely should have called an ambulance,” Zuko replied. He knelt down gingerly next to Sokka and laid out the first aid kit. 

“Nah,” Sokka said with a shrug, his hand out in a dismissive gesture, “this is nothing.”

Zuko stared at Sokka with a rigid expression on his face, his mouth a tight line.

“Really!” Sokka insisted. “It’s just a sprain. I hurt it a couple months ago, and I’ve been recovering, but I aggravated it.”

“So that’s how you have you all this time to bother me,” Zuko said, gingerly pulling Sokka’s leg straight in front of him. “You’ve been recovering.”

“Well,” Sokka said sheepishly, “I technically do still have practices I should be going to. But it’s more fun to come here and see you.”

Zuko looked up at him sharply, his cheeks flushed, and accidentally jostled Sokka’s leg. Sokka hissed sharply, and Zuko blanched and moved quickly to grab the first aid kit.

“Sorry,” he said quietly.

“S’okay,” Sokka replied, watching his hands unravel a bandage. “It’s my fault for getting hurt in the first place.”

Zuko laughed, low and a little husky. “Yeah, it kind of is.” 

He wrapped the bandage around Sokka’s knee tightly, watching his expression for more pain. Sokka stayed relatively placid, only wincing once, and his mouth usually quirked up in a crooked smile. 

“Why would you climb a tree?” Zuko asked after a while. “That’s like rule number three on the trailhead sign.”

“What can I say?” Sokka said cavalierly. “I’m a rebel.”

Zuko let out a quick, disbelieving laugh. “Right.”

“Hey, you said it yourself! I break all the rules.”

“Yeah,” Zuko said, pinning the bandage in place, “and it’d be great if you stopped. Even my boss has no idea what to do with all of the warnings I’ve been giving you.”

Sokka considered him for a moment. “I’ll stop if you agree to go out with me,” he finally said. 

Zuko dropped a hand to the leaf-littered ground to keep himself from falling over. “What?”

“The tree-climbing? The rule-breaking? I’ve been trying to get your attention this whole time,” Sokka said with a widening grin. 

“My attention?” Zuko asked. His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I like you,” Sokka replied matter-of-factly.

Zuko shook his head. “But what about the bike thing?” he almost demanded. “You couldn’t have liked me then.”

Sokka tilted his head thoughtfully, bringing one of his hands up to brush his chin. “I will admit,” he said, “although I thought you were attractive, I didn’t like you during the bike thing. But I grew to like you over time.” 

“Over time?” Zuko repeated, crossing his arms.

“C’mon,” Sokka said, poking him on the arm. “Don’t you like me, too?”

Zuko dropped his arms and looked back at the muddy trail. “Yeah, I do.”

Sokka smiled at him hopefully, “So go out with me?” 

Zuko looked back at him, now smiling lightly. “Or else?”

“Or else I’m going to keep climbing the trees.”

“And?”

“Fishing off the boat launch.”

Zuko sighed. “And I can’t trust you to stop there, can I?”

Sokka grinned. “The squirrels aren’t going to feed themselves.”

“Actually, they are, that’s why—” Zuko stopped and sighed. “Okay, yes, I’ll go out with you.”

“Really?” Sokka practically squealed. 

“Yeah,” Zuko said, smiling back at him.

Sokka practically lunged toward Zuko, reaching for his face, but managed to jam his leg into Zuko’s all over again. All at once, his eyes shot wide open, and his head fell back, and Zuko had to catch his arm to keep him from falling over, a low moan of pain twisting from his mouth.

“Sokka!”

“Yep, definitely just a sprain,” Sokka said once he had come back around. He gritted his teeth. “Barely hurts at all.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “We need to get you to the booth,” he said, reaching for Sokka’s other hand as he pulled his arm over his shoulders to help him up. 

“But you promised you’d go out with me,” Sokka whined.

A small smile brightened Zuko’s face, and a new joy glowed from his eyes. “Yeah, I will,” he said, and before Sokka could make some smart-aleck reply, Zuko leaned toward him, tilting his head slightly at the odd angle from being side-by-side, and kissed Sokka. Even with his injured leg, Sokka came to life beneath him, raising his free hand to cup Zuko’s jaw and brush back the hair falling into his face with his fingers. Birds sang from the tree canopy above them, the leaves shuffled quietly in the shifting wind, and the warmth of dappled sunlight fell across their entangled bodies. If Zuko had not been bearing half the weight of a very heavy and very injured young man, it might have been a perfect kiss. Or maybe that was what made it one.

“All right,” Zuko said when they finally pulled apart. “We should really go.”

“Where are we going again?” Sokka asked, now dazed.

“To the booth.” Zuko helped Sokka hop along beside him. 

Sokka nodded, trying desperately to keep his weight on his uninjured leg. “And then we can go out?”

Zuko smiled, and looked further down the trail. “Yeah, then we can go out.”

[trilliastra]

the adventures of detective wei wuxian and his husband

[Established relationship. POV outsider for the most part.]

-

1.

Jiang Cheng will never get used to seeing Lan Wangji in distress. Instead of his usual stoic expression, the man looks almost in pain himself, holding Wei Wuxian's hand tightly.

“He's an idiot.” Jiang Cheng comments, trying to hide his own worry. “He ran into the building like he's the fucking Superman.” And he saved a kid, Jiang Cheng thinks.

Lan Wangji barely looks up, already used to Jiang Cheng's own way of coping with Wei Wuxian's dangerous lifestyle. They've had many fights before as Lan Wangji often misunderstood brotherly banter with insulting.

Jiang Cheng doesn't know exactly what happened, but one day they met for dinner and Lan Wangji stopped glaring at him every time he nagged at Wei Wuxian, so he guesses they are fine now. Well, as fine as they can ever be.

“Hmn.” The other man assents, he brushes a hand over Wei Wuxian's cheek softly. “I'll lock him in the basement.” He says.

Jiang Cheng lets out a snort, surprised at Lan Wangji's attempt at a joke. “He'd find a way out.”

“Hmn.” They share a look of understanding. This is who Wei Wuxian is: impulsive, selfless, good.

“He's gonna be fine.” Jiang Cheng whispers, reaching out to take Wei Wuxian's other hand.

“Yes.” Lan Wangji takes a deep breath, rests his head against Wei Wuxian's chest. Jiang Cheng pretends not to see the tears. “He will.”

–

2.

Yang Hao rolls his eyes as Wei Wuxian laughs loudly. It should take more than just a quick brain and guts to become a detective.

It's ten past two, he hasn't slept in two days and his stomach is starting to hurt. Things would move much faster if only Wei Wuxian could get to the fucking point.

“And that's how we found they run an underground casino.” He keeps rambling, all exaggerated gestures and a lot of confidence. Yang Hao sighs – some people are so damn lucky to just stumble upon the right person at the right time.

To his left Li Qin is sighing dreamily, as Wei Wuxian keeps talking about how he is this close to solving the case if only he could have another day or two. He will get those days, Yang Hao is sure, because their boss loves him.

Thirty minutes later – or maybe two hours, he lost track of time by the time Wei Wuxian started on his brilliant plan to catch their guy – they are finally free to eat their lunch and Yang Hao all but runs away from the conference room before Wei Wuxian can catch up with him. The guy is adamant they must become friends, Yang Hao has no idea how Wei Wuxian hasn't noticed that he'd rather strangle himself before that happens.

He almost made it to his desk before his name is being called by that annoyingly happy voice. “Yang Hao!” He tries not to groan. “I forgot my lunch, do you want to go to granny’s restaurant at the corner together?” Wei Wuxian smiles, placing his hand on Yang Hao's shoulder.

“I have a date.” He lies, desperate to get the fuck away from him.

“Oh.” Wei Wuxian's smile falters for a moment, but he's soon back to his cheerful self. “That's great, man!” He pulls his hand back before shaking it in front of Yang Hao's face, the wedding ring shining in the light. “I wish I could say the same.” Wei Wuxian sighs, almost sad.

Yang Hao turns around to hide his grimace. Wei Wuxian talks, a lot, it's no secret that he's married, and happily so. It's sickening how much he talks about his partner. Yang Hao has never met her in person, but he imagines a saint of a woman to put up with all – that.

Or maybe she's just as bad as him. Yang Hao shudders.

“That's too bad.” He answers when he realizes Wei Wuxian is waiting for him to say something. “Next time, then?” He asks, just to be polite.

Wei Wuxian's smile grows and he is about to reply when Li Qin call his name. “Senior Wei! There's someone here to see you.” She gestures at a man dressed in a suit, long hair tied up. He's vaguely familiar and Yang Hao frowns, hoping this isn't related to their case. He can't put up with Wei Wuxian for another hour, especially without food.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian calls, surprised. He all but runs towards the man and when they are close enough he leans in and – kisses him. What.

“You forgot your lunch.” He can hear the other man say, holding Wei Wuxian's waist. “We are going out.” He states and Wei Wuxian all but melts against him.

Yang Hao blinks, trying to process all the information. So Wei Wuxian's partner isn't a woman. And he is a Lan. As in the Lan Clan. As in Lan Wangji, the cold, intimidating, lawyer.

“Oh, Lan Zhan.” He looks up, still confused, as Wei Wuxian praises his husband. “You're too good to me.” His voice is so saccharine, Yang Hao wants to jump off the window, but Lan Wangji only smiles, albeit shyly, and takes Wei Wuxian's hand, pulling him towards the door.

“Aren't they the cutest?” Li Qin asks, happily.

Yang Hao groans and vows to apply for a transfer as soon as he can.

–

3.

“I'll call you later, mom.” Mei Xiang stops just outside the building, puts her phone back in her purse and reaches out for the compact mirror. She checks her lipstick again and takes a deep, nervous breath. I can do it, she tells herself.

She's been preparing for this since before she got into university. She is smart, qualified, and bold, just the perfect combination for a great lawyer. She can do it.

The Lan Clan is a legend and being employed at Cloud Recesses is a dream come true. She doesn't have an office and for now she's just another assistant, but Mei Xiang knows it's just a matter of time. She's ready to work her way up. Sleepless nights? She got that covered in university. Food? Cereal bars and dried fruits are her best friends.

Mei Xiang introduces herself to her colleagues with a smile and proceeds to get acquainted with her small desk in the corner of the large room. They are all working on some big case already and her direct supervisor says they will assign her a task as soon as Lan Xichen arrives.

Her desk is close to Lan Wangji's office, she notices. The open door allows her to watch him working, scribbling furiously as he checks one book or the other, occasionally he looks up to discuss something with Luo Qingyang, one of the senior lawyers. Mei Xiang sighs, that is one handsome man.

She can see the shining ring on his left hand and shakes her head. She participated in many lectures given by either Lan Wangji or his brother, and she's always admired the way he carried himself, his unwavering belief on doing what's right.

Mei Xiang smiles sweetly when he looks up and notices her watching him. She isn't one to defend adultery, but she knows how these things work for the traditional families – marriage of convenience is still common and she doubts Lan Wangji would ever go against his family on this matter.

Mei Xiang runs a hand through her hair, watching Lan Wangji look through his books. Her parents met through work, love can happen anytime, anywhere. If it happens it happens, she thinks, delighted, when he looks up again.

“Hello, Senior Wei.” Mei Xiang hears Luo Qingyang say as she leaves Lan Wangji's office. A man dressed in casual jeans and combat boots reaches out for her hand with a smile.

“Mianmian, you look absolutely dashing. How is your baby?” He asks, enthusiastic.

Mei Xiang frowns. She doesn't recognize him, and she thought she knew everyone who worked at Cloud Recesses – she made a very thorough research.

She watches as Luo Qingyang shows him something on her phone, probably a picture of her baby, and the man coos, always smiling, as he grabs his own phone and hands it to her.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji calls, coming out of his office.

“Lan Zhan!” The man practically yells, which makes Mei Xiang startle, no one in the room looks up and she wonders if this is such an usual occurrence that they just don’t care anymore. “I was showing her that video of Sizhui playing with the rabbits!” He turns to Luo Qingyang. “Isn't he the cutest?”

“Yes,” she laughs, “after my little Mianmian.” She adds, making the other man laugh.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji stresses, holding out his hand.

“I'm coming, I'm coming.” The man laughs, waving goodbye at Luo Qingyang and taking Lan Wangji's hand as they walk together into the office. “I missed you, too.” She hears him say, leaning in to kiss Lan Wangji passionately before the doors are even fully closed.

“Damn,” she whispers, impressed.

Half an hour later, Lan Wangji's husband comes out of his office looking properly debauched, with the biggest smile she's ever seen. That doesn't look like a marriage out of convenience, so definitely, nothing is going to happen. Oh well, she thinks before straightening up her back and getting ready to conquer the world, his loss.

–

4.

After thirty years, she still loves the Monday morning rush. Since her daughter took over the kitchen, she started to love it even more.

Mei Hui loves talking to them and listening to their stories, serving good food that makes them forget about their problems for a few minutes. Over the years, she's had many regular customers, and one of her favorites is Wei Wuxian.

He's a whirlwind, loud and dangerous, but smart and genuinely kind. She's granny to him and her heart fills with joy every time he walks through the door.

He loves her lotus root soup – she long stopped taking offense when he says his sister's is better, she understands the power of love that makes any food taste like heaven – especially when a case has gone wrong. Mei Hui has spent many nights by his side as he eats the soup and cries.

Pork ribs are reserved for the amazing days – his words, not hers. Almost eight years ago, he ordered it for the first time, his grin so wide it took her breath away. It was also the first time she heard Lan Wangji's name.

Oh, those boys. She likes to think her late husband used to look at her like Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji look at each other.

She was invited to their wedding but couldn't make it due to an appendicitis – her health isn't what it used to be fifteen years ago – but Wei Wuxian showed her the pictures the next week, patting her back gently as she sniffed, deeply touched by his consideration.

But her favorite customer of all has to be the little boy. Lan Sizhui, Lan Yuan, oh, how she adores him. Mei Hui looks at the flowers and smiles as she reads the card again. It’s impossible not to love him.

Happy birthday, granny, it says, and she has to sit down to try and contain her glee. “Dad helped me write it.” Lan Sizhui had explained, earlier this morning, as he hugged her leg. Wei Wuxian was laughing, holding Lan Wangji's hand as they waited for their son. She asked if the boy wasn't going to be late for school and Wei Wuxian laughed, amused, as Lan Wangji frowned for a moment, but answered that it was fine, it was for a good cause. Oh, those boys.

Mei Hui loves Monday mornings, even more when she gets to see her favorite boys smiling, and so – so happy. As they should be.

–

5.

He is bleeding. Fuck, Lan Wangji is bleeding.

Su She watches Lan Xichen hold his suit jacket over his brother's wound and tries not to panic. This wasn't part of the plan, that – Xue Yang wasn't even supposed to have a gun! And that good-for-nothing just left in the middle of the chaos without looking back.

Xue Yang was supposed to take the papers while Su She distracted Lan Wangji, no one would get hurt, much less shot. Not that Lan Wangji didn't deserve it, the arrogant bastard, but Su She doesn't want to go to jail when he's this close to getting rich. Lan Wangji better live to watch Su She ruin everything that he owns.

“Wangji.” He hears Lan Xichen yell, shaking his brother to keep him awake. He hears someone saying help is coming and someone else says they called Lan Wangji’s husband.

Su She almost rolls his eyes as the other employees start running around like headless chickens, crying and praying for Lan Wangji's recover. Half of them hate the man just as much as Su She and the other half just want him to live so they can continue to make googly eyes at him. Pathetic.

“Lan Zhan!”

Great, this time Su She does roll his eyes as Wei Wuxian yells desperately, kneeling in front of his husband and taking his hand.

“Lan Zhan, please don't leave me.” He cries.

They are so ridiculous, flaunting their superior love story in front of everyone's faces. Every time they are around each other, it's like watching a fucking drama – nothing is ever going to be more staged than this. Well, he thinks, perhaps Jin Zixuan and Jiang Yanli's wedding, but Su She couldn't care less about them.

“Never –” Lan Wangji coughs just as the paramedics arrive. It takes Lan Xichen and Jiang Cheng – and when did that other fucker get here – to separate Wei Wuxian from his husband.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian's screams get more and more desperate and Su She decides it's time to leave. Any more of this disgusting shit and he's going to throw up.

–

He should've known Xue Yang was going to open his giant mouth eventually. The guy has always been a coward.

“ – you have the right to remain silent,” Wei Wuxian recites as two police officers drag Su She towards the car.

“He should've died.” He says, looking into the other man's eyes. When Wei Wuxian attacks him Su She only laughs.

–

+ 1

“It's snowing!” They get woken up by Lan Yuan jumping on their bed, laughing and screaming in delight. Lan Wangji smiles as he hears Wei Wuxian groan and burrow himself further under the covers. “Dad! Papa!”

“Yes.” Lan Wangji answers, sitting up and pulling Lan Yuan onto his lap. “Have you brushed your teeth?”

“Yes!” He quickly answers, eyes shining with glee. “And I dressed myself, see?” He opens his arms and kicks his legs in the air. He's wearing mismatched socks, Lan Wangji notices, smiling.

“So you did.” He praises, running a hand through the boy's hair. “We can play in the snow after breakfast.”

“Noooo.” Wei Wuxian whines. He got home late last night, again. “It's Saturday, we should stay in bed all day.”

Lan Yuan ignores him, turning to Lan Wangji again. “Can we make cookies too?”

“Sure.” He answers easily, dropping Lan Yuan on Wei Wuxian's back. His husband groans and their son laughs when he gets pulled into a hug.

“And hot chocolate?” Lan Yuan asks.

“One or the other.” Lan Wangji replies, heading to the bathroom.

“Cookies!” He hears his son reply in between laughter.

“Chocolate chip!” Wei Wuxian laughs with him.

By the time he comes out of the bathroom both Wei Wuxian and Lan Yuan are asleep again, holding each other and snoring softly. Lan Wangji shakes his head, amused, and walks back to the bed. He throws an arm over them and smiles, they can stay in bed longer, it's Saturday after all.

[sourbat]

For that writing meme: Melm/Mags "first confession of kink"? (it would be kind of funny if it was something pretty tame, but i'll leave it up to your choice! whatever would be most fun to write)

I hope you don’t mind, but I don’t have them openly confess to the kink (though it’s pretty obvious). 

Rating: M for blood and suggestive imagery 

Melmord woke to another promising day underground, hundreds of feet deep within Mordhaus’ flaming hearth. Clothes ironed and waiting for him, and a file containing the weekly agenda already resting in front of his bedroom door, Melmord could always be certain that his omnipresent savior and master was looking out for him, ensuring that no moment was without some purpose, no matter how menial. As he made his way down the long halls, Melmord opened the file. A quick glance at the list of upcoming meetings and destinations ahead suggested a deepening level of trust, if not tolerance of his meager existence. He’d be leaving his underground schloss this week, though not without supervision. Another peruse through the file gave way to the name of his newly appointed overseer, and Melmord smiled.

Another week under Magnus’ watchful eye. It was news worth celebrating over, though Melmord was careful not to give way to expressions, lest the wrong klokateer notice across the screen. Can’t let the big man upstairs know how relieving it is to be working with someone who didn’t try killing him. To be working with a musician again, no matter how “retired” he may be. Someone who, despite the rough edges, had the decency to acknowledge the shreds of humanity that still existed within his ragdoll form.

A fellow prisoner. 

He closed the file and his mouth shut before taking a sharp left, going deeper into the dragon’s pit, towards Magnus’ quarters.

Still new to this section of Mordhaus, Melmord was careful to memorize his steps. He knew he was on the right track when he couldn’t locate any obvious camera glued on his movement, either hidden or outright barred for Magnus’ sake (Note to self: ask Magnus what’s the deal?) Eventually, Melmord stumbled upon a bathroom door, slightly ajar, welcoming him to the amusing sight of Magnus cupping his chin, long goatee tucked into the palm of his hand as he brought a razor to his chin.

“That time of the week?” Melmord remarked, coming to a halt once the older man detected his presence. He leaned against the frame, pushing the door the rest of the way, revealing Magnus in just his jeans. Truth be told, it was a rather nice sight, and Magnus not immediately pushing him away and shutting the door asserted that things between them were still on the incline.

“You’re awake,” Magnus stated, dragging the razor down his cheek.

“Careful,” Melmord added, raising a finger at a small patch of untrimmed facial hair just under the man’s jaw. “You missed a spot.” 

Magnus winced at the finger pointed at him. “Thank you,” he murmured, meeting Melmord’s stare with his grim reflection.

“No prob,” Melmord replied, reading the room and concluding it was still too early for shenanigans. Though Melmord could summon up a smile at later hours, a laugh after a few drinks, a few wandering fingers after a huff of something good, getting anything from Magnus pre-breakfast was like squeezing blood from a beet. Or rock… how did that saying go again?

Melmord tried not to let the silence that followed get to him, but after a solid minute of watching a blade cut through thick hairs, gave in and ignored the obvious signs and asked, “So, you get this week’s memo?” 

“Yes, but I’ve not read,” Magnus answered plainly, eyes still on uneven trim.

“We’re working together again.” 

“Yes, just as I requested.”

“And it actually happened.” Melmord excitedly fiddled with his watch. “Not sure how you did it, man. I’ve been working under Offdensen for well over a year and barely got promoted out of custodial duty. You’re here for a few months, and suddenly we’re–ah, something wrong?”

The razor was pressed over the stubble, just above Magnus’ lengthy beard, but had ceased all progress. His reflection harbored the late stages of tolerance, now shifting to annoyance.   

“I’d prefer no distractions,” Magnus said, voice low and frigid, as though it took some effort on Magnus’ part to keep from yelling at him. “That is, not at this hour.”

The last second add on barely eased the blow to Melmord’s esteem. Alright, the guy wasn’t a morning person.

“I mean,” Melmord began, admittedly caught off-guard by the subtle accusation. His natural inclination was to make a joke of it, berate himself if it meant a speedy getaway. “Is that your way of saying you can’t handle my dashing good looks, or­–”

Magnus rolled his eyes. “What I’m saying is you–ow!”

Blood oozed from the fine, diagonal cut now adorning Magnus’ face. A small, inflamed cut dripping with vibrant red blood, catching Melmord’s attention quicker than the hiss emitting from Magnus’ clenched teeth.

“Shit,” Melmord said, eyes drawn to a fat droplet already seeping into the beginning of Magnus’ beard. “Here, let me…” 

“No, I’m good.”

“You’re bleeding.”

The action was without thought. Right as Magnus tossed his razor into the sink, Melmord stepped forward, thumb pressed over the cut to stop any further bleeding. Magnus made a slight complaint, another gruff noise to suggest his discomfort, but it vanished under the heated pulse that hummed a constant beat under Melmord’s thumb. Underneath, he felt the warm blood trickle, and as it threatened to pour into Magnus’ peppered roots, reminded Melmord of the single red flash, then darkness that once haunted him. Blood ran further, and as he watched Magnus’ eyes land on him, Melmord saw the blood once more, only this time it lacked the nauseous suggestions, and instead, invited Melmord with its heavy scent.

Another act performed, and Melmord lifted his thumb from Magnus. Not looking away from the man, he brought his thumb to his lips and, unthinking, lapped it up with his tongue. Sweet iron flavored his mouth, leaving behind traces of a man he was still figuring out, and Melmord pursed his lips round it all, sucking and harvesting sweet memories of another life.  

“That was…”

Melmord caught Magnus starting at him with that look. The “holy shit, dude, really” look. The “you’re into that, huh” judgmental stare. Melmord knew it well enough, had made it himself on a rare occasion; however, it was the first time he’d seen Magnus make it, and it was aimed directly at him.

Now, suddenly aware of his surroundings, Melmord brought his hand down to his side, tucking his stained thumb into a fist.

“Bad habit of mine,” Melmord said, stopping Magnus from finishing his thoughts. “Used to, uh, cut myself when I was starting out.” He pointed at the messy scruff lining his face. “That cutting. Not the bad kind. But, uh, I guess I got used to the taste of blood, haha. Didn’t think I’d…well, you know, bro?” 

With the same hand, Melmord combed through his heavy locks, and laughed. Magnus flinched back, left eye wincing as his chin drew upwards, releasing a new line of blood that only served to make Melmord more aware of the discomforting situation.  

“Well, I won’t bother you anymore,” he said, eyes caught between Magnus’ deepening frown, at the blood now decorating his tangled beard. Still, as nice Magnus looked in red, Melmord wasn’t going to risk going any further, and stepped out of the bathroom. “See you at the breakfast table,” he said, back facing the older man. “Or, later. Whenever, really. I ain’t in any hurry.”

It was hardly a save, but by this point, Melmord was more invested in vanishing from existence than he was in saving face.

Licking up his supervisor’s blood? And right after Magnus told him he wasn’t in any mood?

Well, this was going to be the start of a rather…interesting week.  

“Ow.” 

Melmord halted, eye flickering at the low voice that pierced the hall. Hesitant, he glanced over his shoulder, looking past greasy locks and finding the bathroom door fully opened, and Magnus standing at the edge, just under the frame. Blood ran down his chin, into his beard, and just like before, Melmord was drawn to how well it complemented Magnus peppered locks and sharp features. But it was the patter of blood dripping from his hand that had Melmord about-facing. The razor, now clenched in Magnus’ hand, dribbled with blood. Melmord watched, awestruck, as Magnus released his grip, letting it fall and hit the floor. He brought his hand up and stared, eyes yielding little information as he turned his palm towards Melmord. 

Melmord swallowed at the sight of blood now decorating Magnus’ hand, along with the knowledge that, of the few rooms that were guaranteed no monitoring, the washrooms were one of them.

From the tip of Magnus’ beard, a single droplet gathered, filled and snapped off, dropping and splattering over the top of Magnus’ foot.  

With his impression already made, Melmord had little trouble dropping to his knees once the bathroom door was closed. 

A very interesting week indeed.

[the1918]

Keller is an affluent suburb of Fort Worth, Texas. Select parts of this article (warning: link contains a disturbing video with the footage of a Latino man being violently abused by white officers).

On Aug. 15, two officers with the Keller police department pepper sprayed Marco Puente directly in the eyes while they pinned him to the ground and handcuffed him. The entire incident was video recorded on multiple dash cam and body worn cameras [...] Puente and his attorneys filed against the officers in Fort Worth District Court on Dec. 15.

(Electrician Marco Puente on vestcam footage and to right)

Marco Puente, an emergency electrician from Keller, sat in the back of a police car for nearly 20 minutes begging for someone to wipe the pepper spray from his eyes. 

On Aug. 15, Marco Puente and his son, Dillon Puente, were driving to Marco Puente’s wife’s grandfather’s house to fix Dillon Puente’s air conditioning in his car. As Dillon Puente approached the home in the Riverdance neighborhood, Sgt. Blake Shimanek pulled him over on a street inside the subdivision for making a wide right turn.

Dash cam and body cam footage provided to the Star-Telegram show how the traffic violation escalated to Marco Puente’s arrest.

In the video, Shimanek walks up to Dillon Puente’s window, which is about three-fourths of the way rolled up, and tells him to roll it the rest of the way down. He asks Dillon Puente to step out and put his hands on the car, which he does. He starts handcuffing the 22-year-old, and asks him, “Why are you asking so suspicious?”

Marco Puente pulls up in the truck across the street and yells to his son, asking what happened. Dillon Puente yells back that he rolled up his window and Shimanek got mad. Marco Puente starts recording the arrest on his cell phone.

“You’re about to be arrested for blocking the roadway if you don’t park and get out,” Shimanek yells to Marco Puente, who is parked by the curb on the opposite side of the street. “You’re interfering with my job.”

Marco Puente, at Shimanek’s demand, backs up the truck and parks in front of his wife’s grandfather’s house. He gets out of the truck and walks up the sidewalk, still recording. Shimanek tells Dillon Puente it was suspicious of him to drive with his window down on a hot day and then roll it up once he got pulled over.

Another officer, identified in the lawsuit as Officer Antik Tomer, pulls up at the scene. Shimanek points at Marco Puente and says, “Watch him.”

“Watch me watch, stand here?” Puente says.

“Better yet,” Shimanek says, “arrest him.”

“For what?” Puente says from the sidewalk.

“For blocking the roadway,” Shimanek says.

Tomer walks over to Puente, grabs his arm and starts to put handcuffs on him. He tells him to drop his phone, which is still recording. Puente asks what he is being arrested for and continues holding his phone.

Shimanek walks across street and puts Puente in a headlock and knocks his phone from his head. He and Tomer push Puente to the ground and Shimanek sits on his back and cuffs him. Tomer pulls out a can of pepper spray and holds it inches from Puente’s face as Puente yells that he isn’t doing anything.

“Dude, oh my god, what are you doing?” he says. “What the heck?”

Shimanek tells Tomer to spray Puente, and Tomer starts spraying him in the face. He takes Puente’s sunglasses off and sprays him again in the eyes.

In the video, Puente’s wife’s grandfather is heard yelling at the officers. He had come out of the house and was also recording officers, and he yells at them and refuses to back up when Shimanek tells him to.

The officers pull Puente, who is yelling that his “eyes are on fire,” to his feet and put him in the back of a police car.

Puente asks for a towel, which Shimanek tells him they will give him soon. Over the next 15 minutes, Puente begs repeatedly for someone to give him a towel or help him wipe his face, but he is ignored.

“This officer literally took nothing and made it into something,” Scott Palmer, another of Puente’s attorneys, said about Shimanek’s actions. “He literally created havoc.”

Puente and his attorneys say he never should have been arrested or pepper sprayed in the first place, but the indifference officers showed to his continued suffering was even more egregious. Shimanek, who is seen on video complaining about the pepper spray burning his arms, wipes at his own skin with a towel, but tells Tomer not to give one to Puente.

Puente, who is Hispanic, was told over and over again as he sat in the police car that he would receive help from paramedics at the jail. But as Tomer drove Puente to the jail, they passed those paramedics — the officers had told EMS to go to the scene, even though Puente had already been driven away.

Once Tomer and Puente reached the jail, Puente was left in the back of the car for another seven minutes.

“You can hear him as they’re sitting in the sally port of the police station casually talking,” Roberts said. “He’s yelling for seven minutes. You see Shimanek complaining of the pepper spray burning him, and he only had it on his on his arms. Puente had it in his eyes.”

Fifteen minutes after being pepper sprayed, Puente received the help he had been begging for when jail attendants — not paramedics — sat him down in a chair and sprayed water in his eyes. Afterward, officers fingerprinted Puente, gave him orange-and-white striped clothes and booked him into jail. Through a sliver in the wall, Puente saw his son being walked into the station as well. From 3 p.m. to 9 p.m., Puente sat in a cell and wondered what had just happened.

“I’m thinking about what the heck went wrong,” Puente said. “I keep going back to that I did nothing illegal. Is it because this officer didn’t like what I was doing? Is it because he has more power than me?”

Puente also thought about how his wife’s grandfather, who is white, yelled at the police and did not move when Shimanek told him to, but he was not arrested.

“So is that the reason they didn’t pursue him?” Puente said. “Did they get me because I’m a brown guy in a nice neighborhood? It kind of seems that way.”

According to body cam footage, Shimanek told his supervisor that he pulled Dillon Puente over because he suspected him of having narcotics, and he arrested him so he could search his car. No drugs were found in the car. Dillon Puente paid the traffic ticket for making a wide right hand turn and was released from jail shortly after his arrest. Puente wasn’t charged with anything.

Every day when he looks in the mirror, Puente sees a scar that reminds him of the day of his arrest — when Tomer pulled Puente’s sunglasses from his face to pepper spray him, he ripped Puente’s nostril.

“So I’ve got this scar on my nose that I see every day,” Puente said. “It’s in the middle of my face. That takes me back, like why is that thing even there. There’s no reason for this to be there.”

His 22-year-old son feels like he’s “always looking over his shoulder,” wondering if he is going to be arrested for “making a wide right turn” again, Puente said.

This happened just miles away from my house. White people—we have got to do better. 

Do not call yourself an ally but still flinch when you hear “ACAB.” Anti-racism is all or nothing.

Because records provided by the Keller police department show the following about the officers who abused Puente:

In 2016, an internal investigation found Shimanek searched a woman’s home without permission and threatened to call Child Protective Services without just cause.

In 2018, Shimanek was the subject of a complaint after he spoke to teachers and made a comment about “women not carrying guns because they would not be able to protect the children during a school shooting.”

In 2019, Tomer was reprimanded when he responded to a “swatting” call and told the caller that he did not want to “respond to this kind of (expletive) again,” according to a written reprimand. He also told the caller that if “somebody calls in again, we won’t respond to this type of call.”

So say it with me, white people: All. Cops. Are. Bastards.

Get these abusers off the streets.

[chemicallady]

Dr and Dr Reid

Part I , Part II.

A/N : Hello everybody! It's me again with the second part of my Dr&Dr series! I hope you will enjoy it! If you like this idea, tell me something about it. If is too boring, I’ll moving on another subject ^^

Couple: Spencer Reid x Researcher!Reader

Category: little angst

Warnings: descriptions of dead bodies and decomposition.

Summary: BAU is involved in a casa in Golconda, Nevada. Reader is an expert in tools' marks for the local FBI settlement and Spencer isn't aware of it.

*****

January 17, 2007

Golconda, Nevada.

After a seven hours trip by car, you are already done. God only knows how are you supposed to work after that. Nevada’s unpleasant weather is drying your lungs breath by breath, while you’re reaching the area under federal surveillance. Your supervisor have asked you to keep the tools’ marks on a dead body in order to determinate the object used on the victim because, if you will be lucky, you eventually use the results for an article or your thesis. If the Feds wont have any problem with that. 

The point is that... Well. The victim is not like you have figured out. You are an expert on skeletal remains but in front of you there is a full torso, coverd in tattoos and with a huge wound on the top of the sternal bone. No head, no legs or arms but a lot of dead meat. The view is awful but the smell is the worst. It’s taking your breath away. 

You put a hand over your mouth and apologise, but you need a moment. Leaving your kit under the tend, you move some steps along the path and start to breath slowly with your mounth. It's too hot for your first dismembered body, but you can't let go this opportunity. Some agents are already look at you with a glaze of pity and you can't accept it.

You are strong, you can do it.

Or at least you can try, you attended a lot of authopsy before. 

Back to the tend, your supervisor is talking with an old man and an awsome guy, both with the FBI badge. You look at them while you're wearing your gloves and this beautiful, fit special agent keeps his sunglasses off and look back to you.

With a blush, you start to work. The coroner gives you the permission to take some photos and apply a paste on the cervical bone and on the broken omerous. You are waiting it to be dry when the two agents approce you.

《 Hi ma'am. I am Special Agent Morgan and this is Special Agent Gideon. Can you tell us which tool was used on the victim?》

《Ah-Well; I need some minutes more but I believe that is more that just one....》 you slow while you're speaking, looking at the guy who are join the party right now. 《....tool.》

Morgan follows your eyes and looks at Reid, who seems to be really surprised by your presence. 《Hi pretty boy, don’t be shy. We are speaking with the expert to find out what was used on this poor guy. She is... I am sorry, I didn't catch you name.》

Because he didn’t ask. You open your mounth to answer but Spence is faster. 《She is (y/f/n). She is a PhD candidate at UNLV.》

《You really know everything . , says a young agent, following him. She is a slim brunette, sassy. You like her at the first sight.

Spencer blushes, 《I met her several months ago.》 He is speaking like you aren’t in there with them and that piss you off a lot. Then finally he speaks to you directly. 《Hi (y/n). Is a pleasure to meet you again.》

You are speechless. 《Yeah, whatever》 you cut the conversation, took off the paste and look at the marks closely. You dont wan’t to meet  Spencer’s eyes because the afternoon is too hot and dry to pretend to be nice on him and faking a smile. 《In my opinion the murderer used two tools for dismember the victim's body: a serrated knife and a hand saw. I can be more specific after a visual confrontation if you ask to》

《Thank you miss (y/s/n), you are really helpful.》

Morgan smiles to you and you answer as well, before rise up and go to your supervisor, ready to reach the morgue for working on that traces.

Gideon moves on the car and Spencer is left with Emily and Morgan. 《She hates you》, she says, with a smirk. 《What did you do?》

For the first time in a while, he seems speechles.  «Nothing», is the short answer he gives to them. ‘I was an asshole’ would be the real one. Or at last, what he feels. 

****

You hear that the criminal- the guy who is called Unsub by the FBI’s agents- had taken a couple of hostages before disappear again. One of them is the sceriff herself. Than, you recive a call from you supervisor, who ask you to go to another location in the nearby, supporting the BAU squad after they clean the scene. 

«There are probably human remains involved. Go and check with Supervisor Special Agent Hotchner.»

You start to believe that maybe the FBI needs you or maybe you need the FBI if even the boss is so hot like Aaron Hotchner is. You are young and always look at the bright side, even while you are keeping humans ribs off a lot of handmade garden decorations and it’s so gross even for you. You love Halloween and macabre arts project, but this is too far.  

And Spencer is here as well. The two of you don’t have a proper conversation since you have reached Golconda because both of you are working, but now, in the middle of the country side, while you are puking your guts out, on the burned grass of the garden, he is the one who offers help to keep your hair back. 

This isn’t you first crime scene, but the best part of your job is working on cold cases, if it’s need. You are a researcher (almost), a lab rat, not an investigator. You are use to bones and sometimes mummies from the desert, not to the harsh smell of blood and rotten meat which infested the shed in the backyard. There is a surgical room and a body inside, but they saved the sheriff at least. 

A light breeze is caressing your face and makes you feel better. You are greatful to Spencer when he offers a bottle of water to you. 

«When the work comes to the lab it looks nicer», you tell him, receiving a soft smile in return.  «If it’s true that I’ll never forget the first time, I’ll be ashamed forever...»

«You don’t have. It’s a normal response of your body in front of a situation which is fondamental -»

«Thank you Spencer. I approciate your scientific enthusiasm, but.... Chill out.»

You sit on the ground, tying your hair and keep a huge breath.  «How’s going on?»

«Better. Thank you for the approciation Dr Reid. You should go back to work before your sexy boss notices that you are wasting your time on me.»

«I am not wasting-wait. Did you just say that Hotch is sexy?»

«Hell, he is.»

Spencer looks confused for a moment, after looking around him, maybe to spot the subject of the conversation. That gives you time to reach for a chewing gum on your pocket. 

The silence between the two of us is really unpleseant, but you dont have nothing else to say. Is Spencer’s turn and he doesn’t disappoint you. Not at all.

«I know why you are mad at me.»

«Do you know, Dr Reid?»

He sighs.  «Can you stop, please? I dont like when you are so formal with me, I believed that we had passed it.»

«Yeah, well. You’ve stopped answer my letters and phone calls without having the decency to give me a solid explanation.... So guess what? We hadn’t passed over anything.»

He lowers his head, aware that he is in the wrong.  «I just.... My job is demanding...»

A small, bitter laught leaves your lips.  «You really believe that you’re the only one in the world who actually has a demanding job? C’mon you can find a better excuse. If you cared, you’d answered. Aren’t you able to write a message? with... 3 bachelors and 3 PhDs?» 

You’re being mean, you know that, but he hurts your feelings. You two had 3 intensive months of letter’s exchange. You wrote the first one a week after you got his address at the conference in Vegas. A four pages letter, in which you explained to him your PhD project and shared with him throughts and stuffs. He replayed with a 14 pages letter. That’s how it started. He told you about his mom’s issues, his scholar experience and how was growing up in Vegas. You shared with him your experinces, moving away from home, how your family is, how you are fond of cats and dogs. You talked about your own pet, with him ...

That’s how you two became intimate.  

It escalated fast. 

After a month, you gave him your number and the two of you started to call each others, first twice a week, than more and more. Even just to sei ‘hi’ and know about how the other feels in that specific moment. From you, it was enough to hear his voice to be happier. 

He helped you in the bad days and made the good days better.  

And you fell from him, because Spencer is a nice guy. At least, he looked like a nice guy untill letters and calls stopped. And he disappeared from your life in a couple of weeks. You hadn’t a news from him since ten days before Golconda’s case. The Destiny is involved for sure, because you believed that you wont see him again. 

But there you are, sitting next to him. In silence. 

Is too much for you. And no, he doesn’t know why you are so mad at him. You are mad at yourself, because you don’t let people in, usually. You were hurt so much in the past that know you are tired of being everybodies fooled.

Guys are nice ‘till they are not, your mom always says. 

That’s true. Men are all the same in the end.  

That’s why you get on your feet, taking away your gloves. You almost forgot you’re still wearing them.  «I need to go back to the morgue. Bye, Dr Reid.»

«Is better this way. (y/n)», he says, in a rush. You look at him standing fast and you rise a elbow. No clue about what he is saying.  «Maybe my job is not too demanding for me.. But it will be for you. Trust me. Is better for you not being involved with me... I wasn’t aware that our relationship could be that deep.»

«Relationship? We don’t have anything. This is so stupid and... Selfish!», you almost yell, angry at him because it doesn’t make any sense!  You calm down when you feel a glaze on you. SA Morgan is looking at you two, but he immediatly turns away when you notice him. «Have a nice day, Dr Reid.»

He watches you helplessly as you walk away. «Dont say anything», the warns Morgan, who is approching him with a smirk. 

«Can I say that she is on fire and you look dumb, pretty boy?»

Spencer sighs, scrolling his shoulders. «It’s a long story.»

«Yeah? Such a pity that we don’t have time. Gideon found our man, we need to move now», he says, before teasing Spencer a little. «You’ll have time for your love business after we close the case.» 

«There is no ‘love business’, Morgan. We are... fine. Friends. I guess we were...»

«You sure? That little bird probably thinks otherwise», Mogan says, claps him on the shoulder.

Spencer sighs again, looking you in the car, waiting the coroner to go back to the morgue. For a second, your glazes meet, but you look so... deeply hurt. And he understands that- again- he makes a mistakes on another, just because he wants to preserve someone who is dear to him. 

But yes, he has no time now, but he have to apologize to you. And he will.

As long as they close the case.