#and after that going straight to the office to refresh his mind about the watch IUWHEDIWUEHDIH

[sweetimpurity]

☽༓･˚⁺‧͙ day 11! yayayy! I blacked out for this one 🥵

wc: 2.2k cw: bondage, breeding ;) enjoy!! ☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

“Shit…” He sighs. Running a hand through his hair, the talons peeking out slightly. They’ve been coming out and going back in all day, little pin pricks aching at his fingertips. Sensitive when he touches anything, pissing him off. Like he can’t control it. He’s been cooped up in his office all day. 

“Lyla. Update.” He demands in monotone, brow furrowed and focusing on the levels and charts on the holographic screen in front of him. The hovering pixels refresh as the levels increase and decrease. Numbers calculating. “They’re on their way back… just finishing some cleanup.” She replies. Hovering over his desk before settling, ‘leaning’ on a coffee mug from a few days ago. He hasn’t done anything, hasn’t eaten or drank anything since you left on that damn mission three days ago.  He should have remembered. That this specific time would have him aching for you. And now you’ve been gone. It’s his own damn fault and he’s been beating himself up over it. Feeling heavy, feverish, angry. He’s been tracking his levels every hour. Hormones and brain activity. Why must his warped genetics plague him in this way?

“Lyla I…I thought the serum was supposed to help…” He sighs, brow twitching, eyes closing and pinching the bridge of his nose. “It will… but you only took one dose. It’ll be more effective after a few more.” She replies. Watching him with a raised brow. His behavior. 

He sighs again, a slight growl in the back of his throat. Pacing back and forth on his platform and crossing his beefy arms, like trapping his restless hands under them. Finally sitting down in his chair. His legs spread wide. It’s the only way with the pressure in his loins. With the need to be released. He’s in rut. As embarrassing as it is. And you’re not here. It’s like the perfect storm. 

“Oh- just landed…” Lyla chirps, popping up by him and displaying the portal chamber surveillance footage right in front of his face. Too close to his face, lighting his angry features up in a yellow glow. “Lyla!” He growls, trying to grab at her pixelated form. His hand went right through. But his eyes finally land on your form. Walking through the main portal alongside some other spider people. The team he sent you with. You’ve just entered the building and he can already smell you. Your pheromones. You’re floors and floors down and he’s already getting hard. The pressure in his suit tightening. “Lyla. Go.” 

She giggles. Floating around, teasing him. She’s all too familiar with his behavior by now. She puts up with so much. “Have fun, bossman…” She snarks, her hologram dissipating in front of his frowny face. A huff of relief leaving him once she’s gone. Leaving him alone. Waiting for you. 

He groans. The ache. His cock hard and hurting for you. Glancing over his shoulder at the door. Not yet. His hands go down, cupping his erection, only to whine softly at the pain he inflicts. Just the smallest of touches and he’s keeling over in his desk chair. “Ay… Fuck…” He sighs. Sharp canines biting down hard on his lip.

“Heyyyy!” Your voice breaks through the silence of his office. Your scent is stronger than ever when you push the door open. The stimulation goes straight to his dick, like it’s begging for your heat. Begging to be soothed in your slick warmth. Desperate to fill you up. To mate. To breed you. 

“Oh my god, you should have seen me out there… I was pretty good if I do say so myself… got the bad guy and all that. Even got a few common crooks while we were staking out…” You explain, jumping up on his platform. Bringing the box of equipment to his desk and setting it down. It’ll need to be cleaned and assessed. Some pieces to be fixed before they go back in rotation. 

His eyes darken. Watching you walk by. He’s glad you’re back. Of course. He loves you. But his mind isn’t on that right now. Right now he’s thinking about how good you’d look swollen and full of his babies. Full of his cock. Dripping with his potent seed. 

“Ben was a perfect alternative, he stepped in and really helped us out… Peter thought so too…” You keep going. Going over everything that happened over the past few days. “That’s… good…” He manages to say. His voice low and hushed, a croak. Watching your back, your ass. Moving from behind the chair, standing a few feet behind you now. He swallows hard. 

You glance up at his screens. He must have been busy as always. Keeping himself busy. Your hands slow down as you place machinery pieces on his desk from the mission supply. Spider senses tingling. 

In a matter of seconds, he’s pressing up against you. His chest against your back and his nose burying in your hair, in your neck. Inhaling your scent. His hearing picks up on the rise in your heart rate. The way you react to him. 

“Missed me, hm?” You hum, smiling and leaning into him. 

“More than you know…” He huffs. Pressing himself into your ass. Letting you feel just how needy he is. Your suspicions were correct. It’s that time again. Your senses never let you down. 

“That’s good because I missed you…” You whisper. Coaxing him. Leaning your head back on his shoulder. Letting him grind into your ass. Rubbing his erection into the soft plushness. And you hear the releases of breath from his lips, like he’s been pent up so long. “I love you…” He whispers by your ear. One of his big hands wrapping around, splaying across your tummy, imagining himself burying deep, all the way to your womb. 

“I love you too…” You can’t help but smile, rubbing back against him, hearing the slight hiss at the back of his throat. “Remember that…” He hums, something of a warning. The words stir something inside you. And you know what’s to come. This kind of fuck only comes once in a blue moon. Because normal Miguel would never allow himself to be so cruel. 

“Remember.” He hums in your ear. Turning dials on his watch this whole time. Smashing the screen and your suit instantly retracts. The confrontation of the cold on your skin makes you shiver. It’s too much for him. Your scent is stronger than ever. His dick leaking and crying to be inside you already. A strong hand on your back pushes you down to the desk. Tits smooshing and tummy contracting on the cold glass surface. A shiver and gasp filling your body. His hands work fast. White stringy webs leaving his wrists. Letting them bind and wrap around you. Working them around your torso, across your breasts. His webs, decorating your skin, wrapping you up. He wraps them around your wrists like ropes, only stronger, harder to break. Beautiful web designs scatter along your arms, wrapped around your body like a fly in a spider’s web. Like you’re the spider’s final meal. A loud thwip and he’s mounting webs on two opposite walls, letting it connect to your arms and spreading them wide. You can’t escape, you can barely move. Hanging, dangling, ever so slightly. With only the desk under your belly for support. But then there’s his hands. 

His big warm hands, suddenly bare of his suit. His dark tanned skin, fingers running up your hips, down your ass and delivering a gentle smack. Making you whine. Your pussy aching for him at this point. And he can smell it. He can smell your slick, he can almost taste it in the air. Like a drug he knows by taste alone. It’s taking all his willpower not to pound into you just yet. But the rut does not cloud his judgment to that extent. He could never forget that he loves you and would never dream of hurting you. Tying you up in his webs, that’s a different story. 

His hand wraps around, fingers running up your slit, parting your folds and collecting your slick on his fingers. Bring the fingertips to his mouth to wet them further, tasting you and groaning. “Oh baby- fuck so good… so so good…” He mumbles, his hand going back down between your thighs and running along your slippery sex. His fingers teasing your hole before plunging inside. Making you shiver and shake. Pulling on the webs you’re restrained in. One finger, then two. Dripping down his fingers and onto the desk. His hormone levels are off the charts. His mind going crazy. Wanting to come. Wanting to spill his seed but needing it to be inside you. He won’t waste it. He needs to get you pregnant.

“Oh Miguel!! Ah! Mm-ngh…!” His fingers work their magic, bringing you to glorious orgasm. Your juices dripping down his knuckles as you moan and whine. The webs straining and tensing under the pressure of your pull. Panting for breath, your knees pulling up and hitting against the edge of his desk. Bent over, tied up and needy for more. 

When you come down from the high, his fingers pull free. Bringing his fingers to his lips. He’s quiet. In a trance. Hazy and half gone and he hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet. His eyes flutter and roll back at the taste of you on his tongue. Sucking on his fingers ravenously and you can only hear the sucking sounds mixed with his groans. Crimson eyes blowing wide, bashing his watch for his suit to disappear entirely. Instantly grinding his hard, pulsing dick along your puffy pussy. Teasing his tip around your entrance and sucking on his fingers like it soothes him. Pacifies his ache even a little bit. 

“Baby- babe you want… I want- you’re so good, baby, taste so good…” He murmurs incoherently, whining. Pushing his cock through your folds, up to your clit, making your toes curl, knees drawing up. Wrapping your hands around the webs binding you. “Ngh just take it all, okay? I’ll fill you up and-and… and… Dios…ah, te amo tanto… no puedo vivir sin ti…” He whimpers. The softness of your pussy against his needy tip makes him crumble. Keeling over and pressing his mouth to your shoulder. Massaging his dick through your slick. Savoring the feeling for a moment longer. “Ay mami…” 

He bites down on your shoulder. Using his fingers to guide his cock to your core and slipping in. His brain short circuiting at the tight wet pressure. “Fuck!” He growls, instantly spurting hot white. His voice hoarse and needy. Grabbing your hips in the front and pushing in all the way to the hilt. Pushing you up the desk, the webs straining as your arms pull. His body practically mounting yours. Stretching you out on his girth in one go. Pulling a shrill cry from your lips, moaning at the warmth flooding your belly. “Ngh-Miguel! Ohhhh….”

“Oh yes…” He hisses. Finding relief in final release. Who gives a shit if he didn’t get two pumps in before it happened. He’ll pump you with much more cum before the night is over.  

He pulls back, drawing aching whimpers from your lips. Trying to soothe you with kisses to your shoulder blades, your neck. Collecting your hair into his hand and gently pulling back. Moaning as he does it. And he plunges back in, molding you around his cock. Slipping in easier with his cum loosening you up. “T-todo lo que siempre he necesitado, mami…” His sweet words make your heart flutter. His face tucking into your neck from behind as he pumps into you.  

Moaning as he pulls back again and thrusts back in deep. Working up a rhythm, holding your hair back. His other hand wraps around to your clit, rubbing with tenderness in a stark contrast to his powerful pumps. Webs straining, the tension threatening to break the strands as you cry out for him. Legs shaking and trembling. His own moans are broken and hoarse. Full of need and desperation. All he can think of is filling you up. His cum, his DNA tainting you, mixing with yours. Making babies. Lots of them. The image of you full of his children makes him crazy. “You’ll be such a pretty mami, baby… so pretty, so so so…” He pants. His hips slapping your ass with every push, like wild animals in the jungle. His spider half taking over completely. Your soft whimpering moans fill his ears. His words shooting right to your core, making your eyes roll back and gushing on him. Crying out for him and the webs snap! Your arms dropping and you’d fall flat on the desk if he didn't grab you in time. Pulling you to his chest, pumping into you even faster. Climbing up on the desk and kneeling down for leverage. Pushing your body down to arch for him. Pounding into you with unending power. Even after you come, he doesn’t stop. Pulling one more trembling orgasm from you before he’s spurting once more. Filling you just like he promised. Finally stopping with a huff. His mind mostly gone but there’s part of him left, just for you. 

“You okay, mama? Look at me…” He whispers, turning you over gently. Admiring that look on your face. That fucked out smile. “Te amo… needa make sure it sticks…” 

Taglist!! love my sweeties!

@spooky-sculder

@slushycoookie @xxyaoi-nationxx @snails-doodles22 @scaryplanetdestroyer @fate13

@divorcepaperz @yeahnohoneybye @zaunsin @tomalymme @drefear

@mrs-pondwater19 @saintdiior @aphinthestars @hyjionie

@palomanh @maxad99 @muuuwoppppp

if you'd like to be added/dropped from the taglist, please comment on my masterlist post. Or else I might not see it! thank you! 🩷

[genderless-naper]

personal melatonin

trafalgar law x gf!reader , established relationship

mentions of melatonin consumption

lowercase intended !

sfw, word count: 1.2k

gf cant fall asleep without her law !

its no surprise your captain, and loving boyfriend, was working himself well into the night again. it was just something you’ve come to have to accept. you on the other hand made it a priority to sleep on time. you’ve scolded law time after time just for it to go in one ear and out the other. you always told him its ironic how a doctor cares so little about his own wellbeing. if you were lucky you might get a sigh out of him as a response.

law always knew of your struggles with sleep. it was obvious something was wrong when you spent an hour twisting and turning in bed before falling asleep. he decided to let you try a melatonin gummy. “this will help you sleep, but i dont want you taking it all the time y/n”

you looked at it strangely then mumbled “i doubt this would help..” regardless you still take what your boyfriend offers.

the next morning you woke up completely refreshed. no endless thinking, unnecessary turning, position changing, or waking up a million times a night. needless to say you made it a regular part within your night routine.

some nights (rarely) law would make it into bed with you on time. the change in which the melatonin bought was the most apparent to him. when he saw you take one for a few night straight he felt a bit disturbed, “y/n i thought i told you not to take that regularly. its just for sleep irregularities not to be taken daily.” you rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend, “i have sleep irregularities every night! ill be lucky if i fall asleep within the first hour. with these i fall asleep within 5 minutes!”

law sighed while reaching over and pulling you into bed. he buried his head into your hair and mumbled quietly, “i know but i just wished you didn’t rely on stuff like that..” you giggled and your boyfriends sudden embrace. you traced his chest tattoos while beginning to yawn, “they help me feel sleepy..” before you know it you’ve dozed off leaving your boyfriend awake with concern. he reached over to grab the gummy bottle in order to stambles it away from you to avoid future use.

the next morning you wake up refreshed like always. you go on about your day, have food, do chores, watch your favorite show with bepo, and more. when it comes time to sleep you wish your loving boyfriend a goodnight while he stays in his office, and make your way to your shared bedroom. you made your way through your nightly routine just to not be able to find your sleep aids anywhere. “i swear i put them on the table last night..” you say to yourself in confusion. you start to search for them. you give up 30 minutes into the search and accept defeat for the night, “maybe one night wont be horrible” you think

it was indeed very horrible. every turn, every twist, every thought, every eye movement, every position just pushed you further away from falling asleep. you look at the timer that reads an obnoxiously big ‘3:00AM’.

you walk into his office to see him completely consumed in his books and surrounded with a few coffee mugs. you stand in front of his desk with arms crossed, “baby i need gummies”

law looks up with a raised brow, “what happened to the ones you had?”

the shambled away bottle had completed vanished from his mind until that moment. a small wave of guilt washing over him as he stares at your sleepless figure, and realizing he’s the cause of your current sleep trouble.

you whine while telling him how you searched everywhere yet they’re no where to be found, “and now i cant even sleep! i just wanna fall asleep comfortably like all the other nights …”

guilt now starts hitting him like a tsunami. he puts his book down and puts his notes onto one side of the desk. he immediately shambles you into his lap and holds you close, “you need to find a natural way to fall asleep without relying on that stuff every night. it isnt good for you baby.” it was strange for your boyfriend to be so affectionate, but you didnt fight it. easing into his warmth, his arms, his smell made your eyes feel heavy. he begins to stroke your hair while rambling on about withdrawal symptoms and a bunch of other nerdy facts. you giggle at his passion for what he studies, but you cant deny how insanely boring his mini lectures can be. you yawn and get more comfortable in his arms.

“law can you come to bed..? please?” you look up to meet his sleepless eyes.

he hesitates to respond while glancing back to his work, “i have a lot to do-“

you suddenly cut him off sounding a bit more desperate, “i just want you to help me sleep! i just wanna be in your arms. maybe it will help…” you grip his sleeve not wanting him to reject your offer.

he cant say no when you’re asking for him. he would give you the world if you asked. his books and notes seemed mundane compared to being with you when you needed him. it filled him with a sense of purpose that no ounce of knowledge could give.

he shambles you both to your shared bed. once you realize he’ll be in bed with you tonight you cant help but to pepper his face in kisses ecstatically, “iloveyouiloveyouiloveyouiloveyouilov-“ another yawn escapes your lips

his lips tug slightly upward as he pulls the blanket to cover you both. he hugs you to his chest and strokes your hair, “its time you go to asleep y/n”

you shake your head slightly and lightly grip his shirt. he looks at you confused, “no? you need to sleep”

an additional yawn escapes your lips while you try your best to fight against them, “i know but if i sleep you might go back and leave me here… i want you to stay and you rarely stay with me..”

another wave of guilt hits the man like a tsunami. he came to the conclusion that he was the reason for your sleepless nights. when he was with you it was as if he became your personal melatonin gummy. you drifted into sleep without any hassle. it was hard to not fall asleep while being in the embrace of your boyfriend.

law mutters unheard apologies to your sleeping self while kissing your forehead, “ill do better. i want you to have the best y/n… i love you-“

a sudden unexpected yawn escapes the doctors lips. it surprised him since he doesnt yawn much (or maybe he just doesnt pay much attention to when he does)

he pulls you closer while getting comfortable. he didnt fight the sleep. the situation worked out for him anyways. soon enough the once sleepless doctor found himself slowly shutting his eyes. his last thought was realizing how much he truly enjoyed you being in his safety and embrace. maybe he should tweak his schedule to include bedtime with you 🩶

[delic7te]

sweet dreams | kaz brekker

kaz brekker x reader

summary: after an exhausting day, kaz lets you spend the night in his office

a/n : sorry for not responding to reqs, life was kinda happening. anyway here's something I wrote a long long time ago

Kaz caught himself looking at you for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, as if you might fall into the ground if he averted his gaze away from you.

The Crows were heading back to The Slat, worn out after a risky heist that ended up being a success but left them all exhausted and weak, eager to go lay back for a good sleep.

Except Kaz. The man was almost always wide awake and on watch, busy with something buisness related. He allowed you to tag along with his work at times because you had quite a gift for things like he did, even though he hired you as a weapon more than as a mastermind. But you became both and Kaz trusted you enough to let you help him out with planning heists and managing the Dregs, as you were in the buisness almost as long as he was. Of course, you had your own reputation and jobs, sometimes working for Kaz but mostly for yourself.

Still, Kaz and you partnered up at times.

When you were finally at the Slat, everyone drifted into their rooms immediately and shortly fell sound asleep. But Kaz needed to get some work done as always, which meant he would take you with him.

"Y/N, come along", he told you when you came through the door, glancing down at you again. You looked like you hadn't slept for weeks, your eyelids threatening to shut down any second now. "Huh?"

"There's some paperwork left if you don't mind", Kaz explains as he limps up the stairs, you following behind.

"Alright." A quiet sigh leaves your lips. "I planned on staying up a little anyway" , you lie.

Kaz felt bad for keeping you up even though he knew all you wanted to do was to lay back on your bed and give your mind a rest, but he still kept a straight cold expression when you both sat down in his office.

You took of your coat and put it on the couch by his window, sitting down on a chair opposite of his at his desk. Kaz sat right down, picking up files and spreading them all over the desk. "Where were we?"

You let out a yawn, covering your mouth with your hand. "Are you sure this can't wait until the morning?"

It could. He knew it could. Yet something in him told him to keep going and keep you by his side for as long as possible.

Tonight, during a job, Kaz got really concerned for you. It was dangerous, bloody and filthy out there and even though you fend for yourself perfectly in jobs like that, he still sometimes saw you as a butterfly whose wings are about to be torn off by vultures and the cruel world.

He hated that. He hated feeling that type of cautiousness. But when you were in his office, working by his side, he could have an excuse to be in your presence while you were perfectly safe. He would never admit that to you, so he would rather keep you occupied and close to him.

"Hang on for just a few minutes, can you?"

With no choice and a small nod, you get back to all the paperwork scattered on the desk before you. "Atleast we got what we needed tonight."

♤—————————♤

After some time of silent working together, Kaz stands up from the desk. "Excuse me for a minute", he says as he limps to the bathroom.

Kaz shuts the bathroom door, taking off his gloves. He splashes his face and gloves with water, refreshing himself.

His thoughts shift back to his partner in the next room. When had he begun to trust a person like this? Maybe it were your talents: your fighting skills, your calculated moves, your bright, sharp mind. Or it was simply your charm and wit that enchanted him whole.

Those few minutes of peace with you were all he wanted for the rest of his life. It frustrated him, how much space could someone take up in his head.

Kaz walked out of the bathroom, when he saw you lay your head over your crossed arms spread out on the desk. Your eyes were shut and you looked as if you just passed out.

He realized how he kept you up for no reason, just his selfishness, even though you were tired out of your mind. This time he didn't want to wake you, but he figured you won't be comfortable if you fell asleep in the position you were currently in.

"Y/N?", he whispers softly, careful not to startle you.

Your head rises from the wooden surface. "Sorry", you mumble, rubbing your eyes.

Kaz sits back down. "Don't be. You can stay here overnight, if you wish. My room is open to you."

You shook your head. "No, I'll go back to my place, I'll be fine."

He scoffs. "Just accept something for once. We don't want you to pass out on your way out, do we?"

There was silence after you sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"I insist", Kaz finally says, and you didn't want to resist anymore because you knew that in the end he would make you stay.

"Where would you sleep?"

"I don't need to, yet. Don't worry about me."

"Even geniuses need sleep, Kaz", you frown, standing up from your chair.

He shrugs. "Exactly why you're gonna stay here and get some rest."

"I'll just take the couch here."

When you finally layed down on the couch close to his desk, none of you said anything for a long time. Kaz kept scribbling with his pen, which lulled you to sleep even more.

"You did a good job tonight", Kaz breaks the silence, surprising you.

Your eyes find his and you gaze at each other for a moment. A small nod of appreciation was all you left off before letting your eyelids close and the darkness take over.

♤—————————♤

Kaz was finally done with working for the night, which was slowly turning into the morning. It was really late, and you had been asleep for about an hour on the couch, eyes shut and eyelashes spread over your plum cheeks.

You looked relaxed, pleasantly at peace. It was a sight Kaz couldn't take his eyes off.

Before heading to his room, he noticed that it was getting chillier in the space and that nothing covered your body from it.

There was an old blanket hanging from the end of the couch and he picked it up, placing it on top of you and protecting you from the cold in the air.

He admired you one last time. "Sweet dreams, Y/N/N", he whispers, turning around to leave the room.

"Night, bastard", replied a sleepy voice behind his back. Kaz freezes, slight embarrassment washing over him.

He was now glad he wasn't facing you, because he couldn't contain himself from letting his lips stretch into a wide smile.

[comelay]

"It's been a little over two months, since my friend, Aaron, passed away.

This has been my experience."

When the police let me know they were performing a wellness check, I was confused. They let me know Aaron left his cat in his will to me. I didn’t think much of it at first, I was confused by it. About an hour later, I opened an email from Aaron. I read the words “If you are reading this, it means I have passed away.” It was followed by Aaron asking me to take care of Pumpkin. My heart sank. I called the police immediately and sobbed to the dispatcher while telling them I thought Aaron was about to take his life. The Stow Police called me about 30 minutes later, and let me know Aaron’s phone had pinged in Washington DC. I had hope that they would find Aaron before. I had hope that I could still talk to Aaron and grow with him as friends.

I spammed Aarons's email, begging him to respond, telling him I would be his friend and help him. I did not know Aaron was on life support when those messages were sent.

I called Aarons's friend, who, for the purpose of protecting his privacy, I will not name. He let me know he had a suspicion that Aaron was the person who self-immolated in front of the Israeli Embassy. I didn't understand. I asked for clarity, and Aarons's friend explained that he believed Aaron lit himself on fire earlier as an act of protest. I heard the emptiness in his friend's voice caused by shock. We chatted for a little longer, but, we both didn't know what to say, and shortly hung up. I spoke to Aaron's other friend about 30 minutes later, and told him what I knew. His first emotion wasn't shock, but pure sadness and horror. The conversation didn't last more than a few minutes.

After he hung up, I got a phone call from the Stow Police. They asked me to come outside and told me I could go into Aaron's apartment to get his cat, Pumpkin if I still wanted him.

I walked in with Ross. I looked around Aaron's apartment as much as I could, seeing the snacks he liked to eat, the books he had on his counter, and his lack of furniture but an abundance of cat supplies. I walked upstairs. The police officer picked up Aaron’s mattress, and I grabbed Pumpkin and kissed him before putting him in his carrier. The police officer tried to crack a joke with me, saying “Crazy story right?,” which I ignored. Ross and I took Pumpkin to the emergency vet to get checked out.

Between all this, I read bits and pieces of Aaron’s last will. After the vet, I was able to read it in its entirety. I saw a piece of Aaron I never knew about. I knew little Aaron’s life previously. I knew about how he was from Texas, how he came out here for a software engineering internship, how he liked our dogs, and how much he loved his cat. I now knew where Aaron’s heart was, and it was with Palestine.

Every five minutes I was refreshing the news and looking up “Aaron Bushnell.” I was desperately looking to see that Aaron somehow survived. Ross and I watched the blurred video of Aaron self-immolating. We were in shock and didn’t realize the impact it would later have on us. We heard Aaron's screams for justice and his final scream of pure agonizing pain.

The last time I refreshed this day, I saw that Aaron had passed away, with no friends or family present.

The next day, the shock wore off a little. I was sad, but didn't understand how sad this would make me. Ross and I went to Aaron’s friends apartment and explained to him that Aaron had passed away. This man, presumable about 60 or 70 years old, was a little surprising to me at first. But, by talking to him, it made sense. He was kind, and gentle. Just like Aaron. And he really, really, loved dogs and cats.

A couple days later, the fire alarm went off at work. It brought me back to seeing the video of Aaron, and filled my body with pure panic. Ross and I know to warn each other of scenes in shows with fire, knowing it will still bring our minds straight back to that video.

The next few weeks were hard. I talked to Aaron’s friends and tried to process the situation with them as much as possible. They told me about Aaron's love for rootbeer, video games, activism, and cats. They told me about Aaron’s backstory. It felt like something I was never supposed to know about Aaron. It was everything Aaron hated about his life. It was everything Aaron was trying to forget.

I became friends with Aaron's aunt and would call her for hours trying to process everything.

I began knowing more about Aaron in two weeks than I had learned in the past 5 months of being his neighbor.

I felt closer to him, I felt like a better friend to him. I had frequent thoughts of how I would bond with Aaron more with this newfound information. And then I would remember that he was gone.

I would see all the new stories about Aaron being mentally ill, or crazy. I would have people ask me if he was. I would try to explain that Aaron was just, good. That’s how I have and will always see him. I could tell that they heard me, but didn’t believe me. Everyone wanted this crazy story about how Aaron was psychotic. No one wanted to hear that he was the kindest person I knew.

I saw Aaron’s mailbox fill up with letters. I would pick up his flowers and rootbeer I left out on his doorstep every morning when the wind blew them down.

I would imagine Aaron saying hello and chatting to me when I let my dogs out.

I believed I would see Aaron again, until about a month after his passing, when the airforce knocked on my door.

They told me they were clearing out his apartment, and asked me if I would like to take any of Pumpkin’s supplies. I spoke to Aaron’s mom to confirm with her what I was taking. I felt guilty talking to her, as I knew Aaron would not have liked me too. I asked her if I could take one of Aaron’s shirts, so Pumpkin could have his scent. She agreed. I looked through a pile of Aaron’s shirts, and picked a red pullover I had saw him wear before. It smelled like him.

Seeing his apartment cleared out solidified in my mind Aaron was completely gone. They took away the flowers I left for him. I no longer saw the mailman delivering mail to him.

Pumpkin was the only thing left I had to hold on to the memory of Aaron. I can not express enough my gratitude towards Aaron for leaving him with me. Aaron stated in his will that his biggest regret was leaving Pumpkin. I am so fortunate that Aaron saw me the same way I saw him, and trusted me with his beloved cat.

This is all to say, the stories you read online never reflect reality. See the good in others before having your preconceived notions. Aaron always did.

To Aaron:

Hi friend.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are doing well out there. I hope you know we are all managing down here. I hope you know we all still think of you.

Pumpkin is doing well. I took him to get his surgery. He did incredible. I wonder if he slept on your pillow every night. I wonder if he woke you up by head-butting you every morning. He stares at the wall we shared. I wonder if he knows that’s where he lived with you. I bought the same treats you used to buy him, which he goes crazy for. He still loves to sleep in the bed you bought him. He is truly, my biggest blessing. I hope you see how much love I give him for you.

I miss you, Aaron. I will always say your name with love and respect. I will always remember you as good.

With love,

Your friend,

Erin."

[sleepingcup]

"I care for you!"

Game: Reverse 1999 x Reader

Characters: Horropedia x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Fluff, Crushing on you, signs of Depression

Disclaimer: This is purely made for fun, be well aware of ooc and mistypings.

Summary: You just woke up from a harsh nightmare that you can't recover. Finding yourself to his arms for comfort.

The world is cruel in so many ways.

And so is dreams and nightmares.

Both are brutally cruel and it can be hard to breathe, you wonder why how does people deal with this bullshit everyday. It is like a cycle of repeat that has been replayed over and over again.

"..."

Finding yourself wandering in the halls, you check the place one by one not caring about what happens next you went to do your usual job in your own office adjusting paperwork and reports so it can put the others at ease.

Getting yourself a cup of hot water/coffee/tea you need to refresh yourself from the pain it can't fully help you thanks to the brain re-remembering the nightmare. Everything hurts but you think you got used to it.

While you are doing your early morning tasks you soon got a visitor that appear to your office quietly. Facing to the person it was your best friend, Joshua who just got himself some freshly cooked hashbrowns.

"Hey (y/n)! Surprised to see you here! Can't sleep is what you are going to reply?"

"...????"

You were a bit confused as to why he was here all of a sudden, seeing as he closed the door right behind him before going straight to you. He still kept that goofy smile that you so admired.

"Want a hashbrown?"

"... Sure, thanks..."

Horropedia gave you a share of the hashbrown before sitting across from you and watching you take a bite. You stare at him wondering what he was about to say, and yet you paused yourself before you open your mouth.

Soon it was his cue to share his ramblings to you about the horror movies he watched as you listened to him, you do secretly admit that Horropedia is pretty much the best person to talk about anything else to distract your mind. Before you are a bit annoyed at him, but he does grow on you one by one.

How...?

Simple.

Compared to him and his joyful personality, the rest of the people in the ST. Pavlov Foundation are extremely strict.

If you are in two sides of the story, Horropedia and a few others secretly disobey the foundation in a different scenario, the foundation on the other hand had to be strict and check things one at a time. 'Treat them right' is what they provide, and yet you envy the people who secretly disobey the foundation sometimes.

But that is not about the foundation itself no, the situation is right in front of you.

Your own best friend or crush so to say loves to bother you.

You are in a massive distress.

Two choices in mind and yet you knew the answer.

It did not affect the strictness of the foundation, after all. Love, Familiarity, Affection, and Health care are important. Being left alone to deal with the heaviest thoughts could lead to serious incidents.

"Hey, hello~? Earth to (y/n)?"

"!!!"

You snap out of your thoughts to see Horropedia right in front of you, but you noticed that his happy-go-lucky smiling face was turned to real worry.

"...I can tell.... You got a nightmare again aren't you?"

"!!"

You were to stunned to speak, as he sighs gently pinching the bridge of his nose.

"(y/n)... We have been best friends ever since we are both from the orphanage, I am no stranger to know that you had nightmare quite often, and THIS is the face you are showing?"

The tone he say was very serious, you were about to say something more but you felt his warm embrace, "I am worried about you (y/n)! Please remember that! I had to check up on you no matter if they take me away from you, sure it does sound very cheesy but I am making it as simple as possible..."

Your eyes met his before he made a gentle smile, "I care for you, (y/n)! Even if I don't see or show like it but I am telling the truth I just need to let you know that I need you here with me!"

It took moments and yet, your vision gets blurred.

Knowing what it was, you gently wipe your face, tears are falling from your eyes. Soon you found yourself near Joshua, your lips gently touching his chest as you feel his arms hugging you closer to him. Shaking in his arms you found yourself weak as he gently squeeze you tighter.

You can't help but to tell him what nightmare you encounter as he just listens to you not even bothered to interrupt you.

"You know, you getting those nightmares are purely concerning... Oh! I know! Lets go to my room and I will help you go to sleep by watching horror movies with me!"

"... But...won't tha-"

"Relax I can just let them know that you need a rest, its only fair considering you often overwork yourself to the bone!"

Hating to admit that he is right, you had no choice but to lean to his chest with a nuzzle, he soon gets your intention and gently takes care of you and your office before carrying you to his room. He soon puts you to your room to change and grab a blanket and you did what you were told, as a result you two were now in his room. Horropedia wraps you like a burrito and snuggles you the second he opens another horror movies. You watched with him cozied up with him, and yet you found yourself leaning on him more often till you closed your eyes.

All Horropedia can do was keep an eye on you, but he isn't planning on letting you go.

He does admit to himself that he had a crush on you ever since you saved him from being caught by the foundation and plus spending time with him.

Without you knowing he feels happy knowing that he gave you a kiss on the head hoping that your nightmares are gone.

[youtubeyouniversitytherapy]

Therapy Exercise 1: Check In! || Ryan & Dean Beau

Ryan sat in the waiting room area with his back slumped against his seat. He had seen the therapist a few times now and had honestly wondered why they even bothered at this point. 

They already knew he was going to be difficult to work with and already had been in their last attempt at trying to speak with him. After all, this shit was harder to do without a few bumps in you. He half considered going to the session high, but knew he wouldn’t be able to keep a straight face long enough. Or maybe he would end up yapping their ear off. Who was to say?

Regardless, before he could really think any longer about it than he already had, out walked Dean Beau from their office.

“Ryan, good to see you here. How are you doing this week?” They greeted, a clipboard close to their chest as they looked down at him. He wanted to barf right there, or pretend he had the shits just to be able to get out of whatever condescending methods were about to be pulled on him.

His brows knitted together as he looked up at them, gently sighing as he stood up slowly.

It’s a good thing Dean Beau was patient and used to whatever stunts the guy usually pulled, just watching him and already starting to write something down on the clipboard as they started to lead into their office.

He took a seat on the couch, lounging back again with his legs spread open and back against the cushion. He had been in here plenty of times before already to not get himself acquainted, but that didn’t mean he was comfortable being here.

They also took a seat at their desk, setting down their clipboard and adjusting comfortably in their chair. “Looking at your report, your grades seem to be shaky, but your House assessment shows you’ve been adjusting well socially..”

Ryan was more aware than ever trying to keep his face as neutral as possible, even staring off looking around at the ground.

Dean Beau took a beat, letting the silence linger a moment before continuing.

“With that being said, it’s refreshing to hear you’ve at least built some rapport with your peers a little outside of what you’re normally comfortable with…”

Ryan dared not to look at them now, sensing what they were trying to hint at but not bothering to give them the reaction they were looking for.

Of course it was about Matt. It was always a topic they tried to push him into engaging with, and despite their best efforts, he never would.

“Well, with the few faces in your house you know already, it’s easier to step out of your comfort zone with those you feel comfortable with.. and I want you to keep making those steps..”

If only they knew what steps he was taking to get there.

The Dean’s forehead creased, looking down and beginning to write more with giving a small quiet pop to their mouth. “I’m aware that there are get-togethers that happen on Greek Row, and I’m not going to discourage it. It’s important to build comradery and establish relationships…”

His eyes flickered for a moment, almost reaching the desk, but looking back down at the carpet. When you looked close enough, you could see this weird pink fish thing with legs swimming under a lilypad in the pattern.

“However, it’s important to be aware of the obvious stressors that occur at these parties… especially when on a path such as sobriety..”

His expression shifted for a moment, only a second really, but it was honestly too undiscernible enough to not know what he was feeling. Whatever it was, it made his chest feel like it was in knots and his lungs closing in. This entire session, he felt like his throat was locked up, chains pressed around his vocal cords with the key lost in his muddled mind. He was lagging but on edge, craving a bump so that he could get through the rest of this session with zero regard.

Dean Beau was watching him now, it being clear in his composure that he was struggling and resisting frowning for his benefit.

“We… people care about you and want the best for your wellbeing. Despite progress or ‘getting better’, though that’s something to strive for, ultimately that all stems from their concern. Your progress is for you, but the actions you take affect others… Especially your loved ones…”

Ryan felt like he had lockjaw, mouth clasped shut tight. If there was any chance of him talking to them now, it blew right out the door that also seemed to have that pinky leggy fish on it. Now that he was looking, that fucking fish was everywhere in this room. He was surrounded! Almost choking up this pink legged freak at this point with how much was around him that he was noticing now. 

He wanted out of this room!

Dean Beau took another deep breath in, writing down one finally note before moving the clipboard aside. “I think that’s all that was necessary for today… I’m glad we could have this discussion together…”

Finally!! Quicker than he came into the room, he went right for the door.

“Ryan!”

But he was already out, quickly making his way back to the Gamma house while his fingers clawed at his shirt collar.

A sigh finally released deep within the Dean’s chest, sitting back in their chair delated.

“Nevermind, we’ll talk next week..”

[egittae]

he comes after class has let out with a speed only experience could grant. he's been in this odd basement so many times he can't even remember when he'd started, and every single time he's come has been for the same reason. even today, morion descends the steps with a single goal in mind: meeting up with his friend lambert.

the ethereal ball approaches quickly, and he knows there's doubtless going to be Young'un Shenanigans he'll need to monitor. for the sake of the kids, right? it totally has nothing to do with the free food and drinks he's heard about. nothing at all to do with that.

more to the point, he'll need a comrade in arms to help put a stop to silliness, break up impending drama, and totally raid the refreshments. there isn't a finer person whose help he'd seek to employ.

he makes it down to lambert's office and knocks erratically---a unique pattern he's established solely for when he comes down this far. letting himself in, morion winks. "hey there, lambert. hope this ain't a bad time," he opens, walking inside regardless of whether this really WAS a bad time or not. "the ball's comin' quick, eh? only a few more days!"

he heaves a dramatic sigh as he leans against the wall, face playfully exasperated. "thinkin' about wranglin' all those crazy kids on my own... it's just about keepin' me up every night! i figure things may go better if i've got a partner!" with that, he points straight at lambert, wearing a nearly face-splitting smile. "so! why don't ya join me in chaperonin' at the ball? i don't think people'll mind if we park our behinds by the snack table while we supervise..."

Lambert did always intend to go to the ball, though in his mind it was to merely supervise the students to make sure everything goes well and perhaps to just enjoy some downtime with his coworkers and other academy and church faculty. He’d never back down from a chance to mingle and chat, even more if it was during a party. Sure, the professor had no special outfit to wear, but he didn’t really mind. He had fixed up his hair and beard and that was more than enough.

He also knew that it was kind of tradition to go to the ball with a pair, but he didn’t pay much mind to it. Even if he didn’t have a partner he wouldn’t exactly be lonely inside a room packed with people. The ball was approaching and Lambert simply waited for it to come, if anything more excited for the fact that his students could attend- he was happy that despite not being official students of the academy they could still join in on the fun.

A knock on the door peeled his attention away from his papers, a rhythm he had come to remember now. He knew it was Morion even before the redhead opened the door and stuck his head into the room with a wink. “Did you run here in between your classes? If you manage to return without being late for your students it will be genuinely impressive.” Lambert leaned back into his chair, watching the other professor with an amused smile. There were many entrances to the Abyss, though most were placed awkwardly on purpose. To come down there usually meant to go out of your way for it.

“Oh?” A blond brow arched as his smile tugged into a small smirk. “You came all the way here to invite me to the ball, Sir Morion? I am flattered.” Despite the joking tone, Lambert was happy with it. That guy truly did go out of his way just to offer him up on it, even though it was already expected that he’d show up regardless. The dedication left Lambert giddy.

“I accept your proposal. Though please avoid drinking your face off in front of the students, they need a good example to follow.” With that, he winked- then laughed. A drink or two and some snacks with the company of a friend at a party was truly all he needed for the ball.

[wowowwild]

Absolutely. The way he shows up to that concert with Trucy and watches him perform and is still like 'Yeah, no, I literally cannot interpret him as anyone else than Prosecutor Gavin, I get he's a rock star and I just watched him perform, but that's literally just Prosecutor Gavin' and then the only part he actually liked was the part that Klavier was most proud of. It's like showing up to a One Direction concert and going 'wow, my work associate Harry sure does bounce around a lot, I wonder if he'll be late on Monday to our talk about spread sheets' or whatever. I dunno why I gave Harry Styles an office job. But I digress.

It's so funny their first case and all those fans are screaming and Apollo's just like 'over this guy?' and then he never changes his mind about it. He does not care that this man is famous, nor what he's famous for, and I think it has to affect Klavier when Apollo starts trying to know him, the real him, and not just wanting to know Klavier Gavin, lead singer of the Gavinners, even after he knows that's who he is. Apollo's desire to know and then help Klavier is just genuine, like everything else about him, which would have to be a refreshing change of pace compared to his experience in the music world.

This is probably my favorite thing about their dynamic to the point that I one of my favorite things is to write Apollo completely forgetting that Klavier is famous bc it just straight up doesn't matter to him, doesn't make a difference. That's just the guy who objects by hitting the wall and is willing to be petty at all times and says things like 'quite the pickle' and has such a strong will and sense if self and always does what's right no matter the personal cost. And no one who just likes the idea of him could ever see that.

And Klavier would absolutely ugly cry about it. I think after what they go through it would be hard not to love each other in some way. And that's how you end up with Apollo 'just a guy' Justice and his 'also just a guy' boyfriend Klavier 'just happens to be famous' Gavin.

You ever think about Klavier Gavin, having grown up with someone as manipulative as Kristoph and then being thrown into stardom and being sweet talked by millions of fans who only love the idea of Klavier Gavin but dont know the real person under that mask he carefully build over time? Do you think about him finding Apollo Justice, who is blunt and honest to a fault and does not care about Klavier Gavin the Rockstar, he cares about Klavier Gavin the person and he will tell him so? He will tell him that he loves him? And Klavier Gavin will tell Apollo Justice that he loves him too?

[brotherhoodoftheblade]

The Scottish Prisoner 

Percy Wainwright references:

Could you court-martial someone in absentia? he wondered. He’d have to ask Minnie. She had ferreted out records of court-martial for the crime of sodomy when their stepbrother, Percy Wainwright, had been arrested. The army had shipped Percy back to England from Germany to stand trial, so perhaps you couldn’t try someone not physically present. 

.....

He’d got over Percy. Or at least he thought so, most of the time. Every now and then, though, he’d catch sight of a slender young man with dark curly hair, and his heart would jerk.

It jerked now, a tiny bump at the sudden thought that it was the mention of Ireland, more than courts-martial, that had made him think of Percy. He’d arranged for Percy to escape to Ireland, though his erstwhile lover had made his way eventually to Rome. Surely he would have no reason to go back to Ireland...?

“Sixième!” Clifford said, his voice full of joy. Grey smiled, despite the loss of points, gave the proper reply of “Not good,” meaning his own hand could not beat that, and firmly put Percy out of mind.  (pg 47-48)

~*~

Grey rose and turned his back tactfully as he refreshed his drink, saying something casual about his cousin Olivia’s child, Cromwell, now aged almost two and the terror of the household.

“Cromwell?” von Namtzen said, clearing his throat and sounding bemused. “This is an English name?”

“Couldn’t be more so.” An explanation of the history of the lord protector carried them into safe waters -- though Grey suffered a slight private pang; he couldn’t think of young Cromwell without remembering Percy, the stepbrother who had also been his lover. They had both been present - inadvertently - at young Cromwell’s birth, and his description of this hair-raising occasion made Stephan laugh.  (pg 116-117)

~*~

Now Fraser bent his head to one side, listening to something said to him by a thin, curly-headed man beside him, though without taking his eyes off the stage. The sight of the curls brought Percy briefly to mind, but Percy, too, was in the past, and he shoved the thought firmly down.  (pg 133)

~*~

The vision melted slowly into a vaguely erotic twinning of Stephan von Namtzen with Percy Wainwright, which he watched in a pleasant state of ennui, until von Namtzen evolved into Gerald Siverly, the ghastly wound in his head not seeming to hamper his movements.  (pg 333)

~*~

“I collected any number of records of general courts-martial, you know,” [Minnie] said, with a quick glance at Grey. “When...when poor Percy...” She coughed, and looked away. “But the point is, you can have a posthumous court-martial. A man’s deeds live after him and all that, apparently -- though I think it’s mostly intended to provide a record of truly stunning peccability, for the edification of the troops and to enable the wicked officer’s superiors to indicate that they weren’t actually asleep or conniving while all the dirty dealings were going on.”

“I’ve never heard or such a thing,” Grey said. From the corner of his eye, he could see Jamie Fraser examining a crumpet ad though he’d never seen one before, lips tight. Jamie Fraser was the only person in the world -- besides Percy -- who knew the truth of Grey’s relationship with his stepbrother. (pg 369)

~*~

He pulled his thoughts hurriedly away from Fraser, moving a little closer to Hal in case he fell over. His undisciplined thoughts promptly veered to Percy Wainwright. He’d stood thus in church with Percy -- his new stepbrother -- at the marriage of Grey’s mother to Percy’s stepfather. Close enough that their hands had found each other, hidden in the full skirts of their coats.

He didn’t want to think about Percy. Obligingly, his thoughts veered straight back in the direction of Jamie Fraser.  (pg 501)

~*~

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

Idk if your requests are open but could I request a Hannibal x reader who has an emotionally/verbally abusive older sibling. If you're not comfortable or if it's too dark you can ignore this :)

Anon, I had an emotionally abusive older sister figure growing up. I would be fucking honored. I hope you like it!

(Gender neutral) y/n gets some unexpected advice from their new therapist after things got physical with their verbally abusive older sister. 

Trigger warnings: verbal and emotional abuse, reactive abuse, mention of suicide, implied use of r-slur

At first, you hated that you had to see a therapist. Just because you were the first one to throw a punch, you were designated the violent one. The unstable one. The one that needed to be straightened out. As if nearly two decades of your sister's completely unchecked psychological torment was supposed to just roll right off your back. But she'd been asking for it since the day she learned to speak, and you both knew it. You only regretted not hitting her harder.

Dr. Lecter's office was spacious, overwhelming and cold. Impeccably decorated, but not so much in the way of welcoming. You couldn't begin to picture yourself opening up to whatever kind of person kept their office as dark and frigid as a morgue.

"My sincerest apologies for making you wait, [F/N]." A low, accented voice greeted you from behind. The man hurriedly strode across the room and took his place behind the desk. "I'm Dr. Hannibal Lecter, it's nice to meet you in person."

Your gaze fell, mostly because the therapist was just as intimidating as the room. "Hi. I'm [F/N] [L/N]. But you already knew that."

"Perhaps we can begin by clarifying why it is you're here?" Dr. Lecter asked. His tone wasn't accusatory, but confused.

You put your hands on your knees and sighed. "I punched my sister in the throat."

"Did she deserve it?"

He probably expected this question to catch you off guard, but you had an answer.

"She did." You nodded.

"Oh?" Dr. Lecter raised an eyebrow. With a look, he urged you to elaborate.

"I had just gotten these new shoes." You began. "These really nice cuffed ankle boots that I've been eyeing for, like, months. And I was wearing them around the house, y'know, to break them in. Well, apparently, she didn't like the sound they made on the hardwood, so she said 'Jesus [F/N], since you clearly crave attention so much, why don't you go kill yourself?'"

"And she said this..." Dr. Lecter narrowed his eyes. "Because your shoes were making noise against the floor?"

"So I was about to say 'sorry' when I realized that I didn't do anything." You continued. "So I just went about my business. When I didn't apologize, she got up into my face and started telling me what a waste of space I was. Then I just decked her."

Dr. Lecter's mouth turned up into a slight grin. He crossed the room and took a knee beside you. "Make a fist for me."

You balled your hand up into a fist, tucking your thumb under your fingers.

"Oh, no. That won't do at all. You're going to dislocate your thumb that way." Dr. Lecter clicked his tongue. "Come now, dear. Give me your hand."

He took your hand and gently guided it into a proper fist, with your thumb awkwardly resting over your fingers.

"There we are." He whispered. "Next time, try that. And if she hits back, don't be afraid to use your nails or teeth."

"Thanks, but," You laughed awkwardly. "I'm pretty sure my mom sent me here so there wouldn't be a next time?"

"Your mother is dreadfully naïve if she thinks there won't be." Dr. Lecter took a seat in the chair across from yours. "She clearly sees no problem that her oldest child is encouraging her sibling to commit suicide."

You leaned back in your chair. "But what about 'violence is never the answer'?"

"I try not to limit my practice with meaningless platitudes." He smiled. "You've heard 'sticks and stones may break my bones'..."

"But chains and whips excite me." You finished, not stopping for a moment to consider if your 50-year-old ambiguously European therapist would understand a reference to Rihanna.

He paused for a moment, then laughed. It was strange to see this six foot tall, terrifying man laugh, but it happened. You did that. "That's not the way I've heard it go."

"I feel so dumb." You threw your head back. "It's a song."

"I have to say, I like that version better." Dr. Lecter said. "The reality is, my dear [F/N], you are only a perpetrator as long as your sister is. What you're engaged in is known as 'reactive abuse'. While it can be dangerous in its own right, it often manifests as a form of self-defense."

"That..." Your voice trailed off. "Actually makes me feel a little better."

"Don't let anyone tell you what you did was unjustified." Dr. Lecter instructed. "And, more importantly, don't tell yourself it was unjustified."

"Thanks." You said, weakly.

“And in the meantime,” Dr. Lecter continued. “You need to make sure when you hit her, you don’t break your fingers in the process. Do you understand?” 

“Loud and clear.” You nodded. 

“I feel that’s probably enough time spent on your worthless sister, don’t you?” He settled into his seat. “Tell me about yourself.” 

He broke you open like like an egg. Soon enough, the hour was over and you didn’t even feel it pass. But you were refreshed and ready to take on the world with a new understanding of your station in life. That was, until you saw your sister waiting for you in the lobby. 

“Hey fuckface, mom sent me to pick you up from suicidal freak daycare.” She said, slouching in her seat with her legs crossed. 

You took in a breath, falling back on your old, horrifically ineffective coping skills. 

“This is a private exit for my patients, Miss [L/N].” Dr. Lecter scolded, putting a protective hand on your shoulder. “And I would appreciate it if you did not use that language in my office.” 

The sudden presence of an actual adult snapped her into shape. She sat up and uncrossed her legs. “Of course. Sorry, sir.” 

“Now apologize.” Dr. Lecter demanded. 

She said nothing. 

“Miss [L/N], I find it terribly offensive that you felt entitled to insult both my practice and my patient.” He broke the silence. “You would do well to apologize.” 

“I’m sorry you feel that way.” She muttered. “Can I please just take them home?” 

You felt yourself tense up. Dr. Lecter squeezed your shoulder comfortingly and leaned in to your ear. “Remember what I taught you, [L/N].”

You took a few steps forward, Dr. Lecter watching from the threshold. 

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” Your sister scoffed. “I don’t have all day, you little reta-” 

You heard the collision before you felt it. You launched your fist straight into her jaw before she could finish that word. A dreadful crunch filled the air. 

You pulled your hand back, a rush of endorphins flooding your mind. Your knuckles felt a little sore, but the pain faded quickly. Your sister’s pain, however, would last quite a while. 

You looked back at Dr. Lecter and shook out your hand. “You were right. That is better.” 

[wanderinginksplot]

Riye (A Favor) - Alpha-17/f!Reader fic

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Third installment of my Alpha-17/fem!reader fic!

Word-Count: 3,100

Warnings: aggressive flirtation, Alpha is rude.

---

You carefully straightened the neckline of your shirt, eyes on the refresher mirror. It might be silly, but today marked a full month since you had come to Kamino, and you wanted to look your best.

Your outfit had survived the morning, despite a meeting with several Kaminoans who wanted updates on your progress. You had been able to deliver good news - that you were right on schedule - but a sense of doubt overshadowed any triumph you might have felt. The first deadline had been met, but the next one promised to step up the workload, and you were already feeling overwhelmed at the idea.

Still, you were determined to push the negativity out of your mind. You would figure out a better schedule to complete the work later. Today was a celebration.

The bad thing about taking more care with your appearance was that it attracted more attention than usual from the cadets. You had politely turned away two different groups of young men by the time Alpha was due to arrive in the cafeteria. Another cadet - alone, this time - was doing his best to keep from being dismissed as well.

"Was it raining when you came in, ma’am?" he asked, leaning over you. "I have flight drills after this and it gets even more dangerous in the rain."

You did your best not to smile at the obvious way he was hinting about being a pilot. "You know, I think it was raining the last time I was near a window," you told him, voice grave.

"Then I'm going to need some luck to survive," he said dramatically, flashing you a smile he clearly hoped would be charming. "I've heard a kiss from a beautiful woman is a good start. What do you think? It might help me survive the afternoon."

"I wouldn't count on it," a dark voice warned.

The cadet stood as straight as possible as Alpha approached. The captain brushed your new pilot friend aside with a twist of his armored shoulders and sat down. He proceeded to start eating, ignoring the cadet completely.

Any other cadet would have backed away, thankful that Alpha hadn't decided to throw them directly into the oceans of Kamino, but this one was more determined than most.

He winked at you from behind Alpha's head. "By the way, my name is-"

"She doesn't want to know your name," Alpha told him. "Get out of here before I decide that I want to know it."

"Very flattering, Captain," the cadet said cheekily. "But Jango's face isn't the one I want to wake up to, yeah?"

Alpha swallowed his mouthful of food and deliberately set his fork aside, standing slowly from the table. He drew up to his full height before turning around. He was taller than the cadet, forcing the younger man to look up.

"Now I'm extremely interested," Alpha said slowly, his slow and methodical voice dripping with menace. "What's your designation?"

Behind him, you winced. You hated how glaringly obvious it was that the Kaminoans considered these men products. Also, this cadet might die in front of you and that would almost certainly ruin your ability to eat in the cafeteria anymore.

"CT-7115," the cadet said with a grin.

"Ah, part of Zackra Trem's group." Alpha raised his comlink. "Trem."

"Alpha," a female voice returned immediately.

"I've got one of your pilot cadets here in the cafeteria. 7115."

"Broadside," Trem said, clearly recognizing the number. "He's one of my best, Alpha. Don't break him too badly."

"No promises," Alpha replied, turning slightly back toward Broadside. Since you were seated directly behind Alpha, you couldn't see his expression yourself, but it was enough to make Broadside's grin slip for the first time.

"I'll make you a deal," Trem offered. "I'll give him hell here and then send him back to you tonight. I'm sure he could help you demonstrate something unpleasant to your ARCs."

Alpha considered that for a long moment while Broadside shifted uncomfortably. Eventually, he conceded, "That works."

Trem laughed. "Do I even wanna know what he did to you?"

"Harassed an uninterested female."

The laughter emanating from the comlink's speakers cut off abruptly. "In that case, I think we should coordinate punishments. I'll be in touch, Captain."

The transmission cut off suddenly and Alpha looked at Broadside once more. "You had best get to your training, son."

Broadside, looking suddenly concerned, nodded and hurried away. “What was that?” you asked quietly when Alpha had sat down across from you once more.

“I told his superior officer about his behavior.”

“What more than that?” you pressed.

Alpha grinned suddenly, and it was half a snarl. “It just so happens that his superior officer is Zackra Trem. It’s not my story to tell, but she’s got more reason than most to hate that kind of osik behavior.”

You could very well guess the rest of that story. Your heart twisted for Trem, though you had never met her. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Nice, but she wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment,” Alpha told you, not unkindly. “Feel sorry for your little pilot. She’s a Weequay who ran with Mandalorians for the past few decades. Whatever she makes him do, it won’t be pleasant.”

You chuckled at that, trying not to actually feel sorry for Broadside. In the time you had been hanging around Alpha, most of the cadets had eased up a bit on flirting, but every now and then, someone crossed the line.

Alpha picked his fork up again and shot you an intense look. “Why are you dressed like that?”

Though your immediate instinct was to be embarrassed about being overdressed, even mildly, you rolled your eyes at him. “Anything looks like too much when everyone else wears uniforms all of the time. Remember that day I wore a necklace?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Alpha said, snorting. “A necklace. What are you, a Senator?”

“Your ideas of fancy clothing are extremely skewed, I hope you know that,” you told him, adjusting your collar again.

“Hazards of the job,” Alpha replied with a casual shrug as he returned his focus to his food. “Looks okay, though.”

You paused, staring openly at him. Had Alpha just complimented you? Surely not… The universe wouldn’t survive such unexpected behavior, not without signs that space was collapsing in on itself.

Alpha noticed you watching him and lifted an eyebrow in question while he chewed. You just shook your head and applied yourself to your own lunch, avoiding his curious eyes. Explaining your thought process there would be an intensive effort, especially if your goal was to keep him from being uncomfortable.

Fortunately, avoiding Alpha’s eyes let you notice the approaching cadet sooner than your companion did, and you had time to brace yourself before the young man - even younger than you were used to seeing - opened his mouth.

“Excuse me-”

“Kriff,” Alpha said loudly, dark brows crashing down over his eyes. “Go away, kid. I’ve already ruined one cadet’s day and I have no problem adding to the list. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“N-no, sir, of course not,” the cadet told him, nodding respectfully at you as he went on. “I wanted to talk to you. Is it true you served with General Kenobi?”

"What?" Alpha asked, sounding uncertain for the first time since you had met him. You quirked your brows, unsure of whether to be amused or concerned.

"General Kenobi," the cadet repeated. "And General Skywalker, too! I heard you went on a mission with both of them. What was it like?"

"Look, kid, I don't have time to answer all your questions about Jedi-"

"That's fine!" the cadet told him. "I already know everything there is to know about the Jedi. I want to know more about your experience, specifically."

The muscles in Alpha's jaw flexed and you quickly interrupted. "What's your name?"

"Dogma, ma'am," the cadet told you, making an apologetic face. "I know names are against regulations, but my batchers won't stop calling me that. My designation is CT-4287."

“Nice to meet you, Dogma,” you said politely.

Dogma's cheeks darkened and he gave a tight nod. "You too, ma'am."

"Stop flirting with the poor boy," Alpha chided and you gaped at the captain. So much for trying to help him.

"Dogma, I'm sure Captain Alpha would love to answer any question you have," you told the young cadet, grinning triumphantly at Alpha.

"Wait," Alpha ordered, catching at your wrist before you could stand up. His hand was ridiculously huge and you found yourself shackled by his gentle grip. "You haven't finished eating."

You grinned wider at him, slipping your wrist out from between his fingers. "I'll take it with me. Have fun, you two!"

Dogma gave a half-hearted wave while Alpha glared.

---

The rest of the afternoon was spent locked away in your office, working on the second major project you had to complete. Your concerns about the deadline were unfortunately proving correct. The icy grip of stress and fear were squeezing your heart, and you were honestly relieved when someone knocked on the door of your office.

“One moment!” you called to the unseen visitor, but they didn’t seem to hear you. Instead, they continued to pound on the door until you opened it. You were unsurprised to see Alpha on the other side, glowering down at you.

“You’re mean for a nat-born,” he grumbled, brushing you aside as he pushed into the office.

After letting the door slide closed once more, you followed him over to your desk and plopped down in your chair. Rather than sit in one of the chairs opposite you, Alpha leaned his hip against the side of your desk, much closer than you were comfortable with.

In a show of belligerence, you crossed your arms and lifted your chin as you replied, “Serves you right for being rude about my outfit.”

“I didn’t say anything bad about your clothes!” Alpha denied, befuddled.

“Yeah, well, you didn’t say anything nice about them, either,” you argued childishly, conveniently forgetting his half-compliment at lunch.

Alpha frowned. “You want me to… talk about clothing with you?”

Well. Put that way, it did sound a little silly. Of all of the things you were sure Alpha did well, deep discussions about fashion might be beyond him. Honestly, they might be beyond you, too. You sighed. “No, I don’t want you to talk about clothing with me, but I was trying to look nice today. I put a lot of effort into this.”

“I don’t understand why,” Alpha said. “You look… fine… every other day.”

“Fine,” you repeated dryly. “Thanks, I was going for fine.”

“I don’t understand what I did wrong.” You were able to hear the growing frustration in his voice. “What do you want me to do?”

“Maybe don’t act like I’m wearing a ballgown to work if I show up wearing a necklace!”

“What is a ballgown?”

You stared at Alpha, the simple question making your brain screech to a halt. It was like a chasm had opened between you, and it made you reconsider a few things. Since you had arrived on Kamino, you had treated the clone troopers as if they were people you might meet out in the galaxy, but that wasn’t exactly true. You still believed that they were people - of course you did - but you were only just coming to realize how different they were from anyone you had ever met. While the troopers shared their own experiences on Kamino and had been trained to be perfect soldiers by the time they shipped out, they were startlingly young by the standards of the rest of the galaxy.

“You know what? It doesn’t matter.” You fiddled with one of the many datapads littering your desk rather than meet Alpha’s intense gaze. “I am sorry for siccing Dogma on you, though.”

“You should be,” he growled. “He asked ten questions before I could shake him off. Ten!”

“Wow, that’s what? Five days worth of questions?” you teased.

“Five days for you,” Alpha told you seriously. “For anyone else, that’s more than I would ever answer.”

You were unreasonably touched by the reminder that Alpha let you learn things about him that no one else would ever know. Moved by a sudden surge of warmth for the ARC captain, you repeated your prior sentiment, but more fervently. “In that case, I honestly apologize for unleashing Dogma. If there’s anything I can do to make him back off, please let me know.”

Alpha’s stare was level and unwavering. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” you agreed immediately, not understanding what a wildly stupid idea that was. That was fine - you would learn… and it didn’t take long.

That night at dinner, Alpha came in and sat across from you, but instead of starting the meal in silence, he leaned across the table slightly to get your attention. Lowly, he asked, “Are you still willing to help me with Dogma?”

“Yes,” you agreed simply. “Do you have a plan?”

“Yeah. Flirt with me.”

You fought not to react visibly to that. Carefully keeping your face blank and your voice flat, you replied, “What.”

He leaned even closer, eyes lit with excitement. “I’ve been threatening and trying to alienate Dogma all day, but the only time he was uncomfortable was when you flirted with him.”

“I didn’t flirt with him!” you reminded him. “I just said it was nice to meet him.”

“Fine,” Alpha conceded. “We’ll just have to do better than that if we’re going to convince him to leave me alone.”

Abruptly feeling like this was the worst idea anyone had ever had, you tried to speak in your own defense. “Alpha, I don’t think this is a good idea-”

“You said you would help me,” he reminded firmly. “He’ll be here in a minute. I need your answer.”

Your heart was pounding, one of many warnings that this was a bad idea, but you nodded anyway. Alpha smiled - he actually smiled - and the expression looked menacing on his face. “Good.”

In a moment, he had circled the table to sit beside you, his huge frame making you feel ridiculously tiny in comparison. He wasn't wearing any armor at all now, and you could feel the heat of his skin through what little space there was between you.

You tried not to obviously tense as he spoke next to your ear. "There he is, get ready."

Impossibly, Alpha managed to get closer to you, tugging behind your knee slightly so that you were angled toward him. When he had finished posing you, Alpha’s large hand lifted to cradle your face. His fingers brushed over your cheekbone before trailing down to your jaw.

"My little neverd," he murmured to you, face filled with affection.

You didn't have to feign embarrassment at the warmth in his tone matched with the intense eye contact he was giving you. When you replied, you tried not to sound squeaky but only managed to sound shaky instead. "You know Mando'a is my weakness."

He laughed, a low chuckle that sent delicious chills running over your skin. “Why do you think I use it?”

“Alpha…” you chided, managing to sound mildly flirtatious.

“Come on, little one,” he urged you, voice velvet in a way you hadn’t known it could be. “Let’s go back to your- Ah, one moment, neverd. Dogma, sit down.”

You looked over to see Dogma standing at the other side of the table. You had never even noticed, your entire focus narrowed down to Alpha. Dogma looked as embarrassed as you felt. While you were focused on Dogma, Alpha’s arm snaked around you, pressing against your waist to pull you flush against his side. Your face flamed and Dogma glanced away.

“Sir, I- I’m sorry, I forgot I’m on duty tonight,” Dogma muttered, speaking so quickly it was difficult to understand him.

“Sorry to hear that, cadet,” Alpha replied gravely, flexing his fingers against your side. It made you push a little closer to him in reflex, the tip of your nose brushing the space under his jaw as you tried to look up at him. Alpha shivered, and you weren’t sure how much of the motion was acting. “Maybe later.”

Dogma gave an awkward nod and hurried off.

Alpha started laughing even before he let you go, his muscular chest shaking against your shoulder. After a moment that felt like it had stretched an hour, he pulled his arm back and slid away a bit. You immediately felt the loss of his closeness and suddenly you were horribly uncertain of what expression you were wearing. Just in case it said more than you wanted it to, you looked back at the entrance of the cafeteria.

“I feel bad,” you admitted.

"Don't," Alpha advised, looking toward the door as well. “He’ll be fine. He’s a good soldier, just a little…”

He trailed off, apparently content to let his thought stay incomplete. You glanced over to him with an eyebrow raised, but his eyes were fixed on the door. “You can see every access point in the room from here.”

“That is why I chose this spot,” you agreed.

“Switch with me tomorrow.”

“Not a chance,” you refused. “This is my spot.”

“Then I hope you like sitting next to me,” Alpha told you. Surprised, you laughed up at him and he met your eyes. “You know, I’ve never seen anyone blush on cue.”

“Hidden talent,” you explained vaguely. Alpha didn’t seem convinced, so you changed the subject. “What does neverd mean?”

“Civilian.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “Civilian? That’s what you used as a term of endearment?”

Alpha blinked blankly at you. “What’s wrong with it? You are a civilian.”

“Yes, but,” you thought over it for a second, “-it’s not very romantic. Usually, people say things like ‘dear’ or ‘sweetheart’.”

“How should I have known that?” Alpha asked.

It was the ballgown situation all over again, and more than you were willing to tackle that day. “Well, some warning before you want me to go undercover would be helpful.”

Alpha snorted. “How much warning do you need?”

You pretended to consider that for a moment. “Two business days, minimum.”

He frowned fiercely. “If you get two full days of warning, I expect more. I need you to show up in a disguise with three different accents ready.”

“Harsh terms,” you told him with a smile. “With those negotiation skills, you’d make a great senator."

Alpha gave you the darkest scowl you had ever seen him muster. “Watch it, neverd.”

Idly, you wondered if Alpha would protect you from himself, but the amused glimmer in his dark eyes told you it would be unnecessary.

---

A/N - Pretty sure Broadside is wildly OOC, my bad. Also, sorry for the weird image for this chapter. I didn't really want the text bubbles in there, but I needed to keep Alpha's sassy hip lean.

Taglist - @imabeautifulbutterfly @cagrame @mysticalturtleenthusiast @marvel-starwars-nerd @lackofhonor

[albertasunrise]

Just Another Conquest - Part 1

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader, Reader x Original Male Character

Warnings: Angst, Kissing, Mentions of sex

Notes: There are some touchy subjects at the end of this chapter. If you’re easily triggered this might not be for you. Don’t wanna add too many tags as it’ll spoil it.

For two years you had worked at the embassy as a secretary. You kept your head down and your nose out of trouble and so no one noticed you.

Except Greg.

Greg was sweet. You’d been on a few dates and you were taking it steady. Too many times you had jumped in headfirst into the flames and gotten burned so this time you were going to take things slow, Glacial, but Greg didn’t seem to mind. Greg was sweet.

Someone who wasn't sweet.

Javier Peña.

He had bedded most of the single or unmarried secretaries in the embassy. Even some of the married ones. He flirted with everyone. Well everyone except you and even though that stung a little you were glad. He couldn’t tarnish you if he couldn’t see you.

You’d been infatuated with the man from day dot at the embassy. He was a smooth talker and painfully handsome but you knew you weren’t his type. You were plain, a little on the chubbier side and uninteresting. You'd seen some of the women he’d slept with. Your apartment was across from his and they were all beautiful. The polar opposite of you.

It was the day of the Christmas office party. An event you looked forward to as it gave you a chance to dress up a little. Greg had bought you a stunning dress for the event, something you’d spotted in the window of a shop one day and told him you liked it. He’d managed to find out your size and had snuck back to buy it for you and you had swooned. No one had done anything like that for you before.

The dress fit perfectly. Highlighted all the right parts of you and for once you actually felt pretty. You did some simple makeup, pinned your hair up in a loose bun and wore the only pair of heels you could walk in. Greg was there to collect you when you were done, his jaw dropping to the floor when you emerged from your apartment building and you chuckled at his reaction. You both then got a taxi to the embassy and he had been unable to keep his eyes off of you or his lips from yours. Maybe tonight was the night that you’d let him into your bed.

You arrived a short while later and made your way inside, people excitedly bussing around you as you made your way to where the party was being held. The hall in the embassy had been decorated in traditional American fashion. Tinsel, baubles and lights adorned the walls and a large, audacious, tree sat in the centre of the room with presents surrounding its base. You gazed around in awe of what you were seeing and Greg couldn’t stop watching at you.

Little did you know, neither could Javier Peña.

He had spotted you as soon as you’d entered. He had seen you around over the past few years but until now had never spared you a second glance. He watched you as you entered with Greg from accounts. He’d spoken to Greg a handful of times and he always seemed nice enough, if not a little dull. His attention was so stuck on you that he didn’t even hear Steve talking his ear off until his name was shouted in frustration. Pulling the agent from his fancy.

“Oh no, you leave that one alone.” Growled Steve when he noticed who Javier was staring at.

“What… why?”

“Because I know what you’re like and she’s sweet. She has worked hard to keep herself out of the limelight and you paying her any sort of attention will destroy that completely.” Stated Steve, downing that last of his drink as he watched you head to the bar with your companion “Besides she’s dating Greg anyway.”

“Greg’s dull.” Mumbled Javier and Steve barked out a laugh.

“Greg is nice and perfect for her.” Asserted the blonde agent “Leave her alone.” He warned and Javier simply rolled his eyes, waving his partner off as he stood.

‘Another.’ He asked as he lifted his empty glass and Steve nodded before turning his head to seek out his wife in the bustle of people beside him.

Javier watched you as he approached the bar, taking you in as he came to a stop a few stools over. The dress you wore fitted your form beautifully, highlighting your small waist and larger breasts. You had a perfect hourglass figure and he practically salivated at the sight, wanting nothing more than to worship every inch of you but you were forbidden fruit. Which made it all the harder to resist you.

You hadn’t noticed Javier watching you but Greg had and he felt resentment start to simmer beneath the surface of his skin. If Agent Peña had set his sights on you then he had no chance. No one could resist that man's charms. He was relieved however to see that you remained blissfully unaware of the man’s attentions so he did his best to keep yours on him.

“They’ve done a wonderful job with the decorations huh?” He spoke as he wrapped his arm around your waist and you nodded eagerly in reply “You’re the most beautiful thing here though.”

“Oh shush Greg.” You chuckled, you’d never been very good at taking a compliment.

“No seriously.” He said as he gazed longingly at you “These last few months have been… Well they’ve been wonderful and I know you want to take things slow and that’s fine. Just know that when you are ready, I will make sure to show you just how beautiful I think you are.”

You swooned at his statement but Javier scoffed and then as the narrative repeated in his mind he became intrigued. The two of you hadn’t slept together? How serious can you really be if you’ve never fucked? So he decided you were fair game. God help him, he was going to taste those lips before the night was done.

…

“Would you like another?” Javi asked you as he motioned to your empty glass.

You jumped at the sudden question, turning your head to see Javier Peña staring back at you. A mixture of thoughts and emotions rushed through you at once but the one that lingered was lust. The way the man opposite you was looking at you went straight to your core and you found you were losing yourself in his dark chocolate orbs.

“Oh uh… Yes please.” You fumbled, the shock of your current situation lingering.

“You look lovely.” He said sweetly as he motioned at the barman to refresh yours and his drinks “A little different to your usual get up.”

“How would you know what I usually wear?” You questioned, a little taken aback by his statement.

“I’ve seen you around.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right.” You sniggered, taking a sip from your new drink “Thanks for the drink, Agent Peña.” You finished as you turned to leave only to be stopped by his hand grasping your arm.

“Call me Javi.’ He said softly as he smiled at you.

“Well, thank you again Javi but I must be getting back to my date.” Giving him a last nod you sauntered away, unable to miss the scowl plastered across Greg’s face.

“What did he want?” He asked as you came up beside him.

“He got me a drink.” You replied nonchalantly “That was all.”

“That isn’t all he wants from you.” He growled and your head shot back in shock at his change of tone.

“Greg, I am in no danger of attracting Javier Peña.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

“Have you seen how you look?” He snapped and you found yourself growing irritated.

“I have and I am not his type.” You spit “He’s only interested in slim, tall, perfect skinned beauties and I am none of those things Greg. You have nothing to worry about.”

Little did you know, he had plenty to worry about. As the evening went on the music started to die down and people began to say their goodnights, thinning the crowd down to the younger staff members of the embassy. Greg had remained possessive of you, noting how Javier would watch you as you danced with your friends or talked with other people from your department. He’d picked his prey and you were it. Greg, helpless to stop it.

“Would you like to dance Hermosa?” Came a deep voice from behind you and you shivered at the effect it had on you.

Turning you see Javier smiling down at you, his suit jacket long since discarded and tie also. He’d unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his golden skin beneath. Then suddenly your brain caught up with the rest of you and you shook your head as you looked back up at the man that was towering over you.

“I shouldn’t.” You replied, shaking your head as you looked around nervously “I should get back to Greg.”

“Greg is stuck in a deep conversation with a bunch of other accountants.” He countered, taking one of your hands in his “Just one dance. Will be perfectly innocent I promise.”

You tried to find another reason to say no, anything, but you were coming up blank and so you were unable to resist when he pulled you gently towards the dance floor. The song was slow, soft and you glanced around at the other couples close to each other, slowly swaying to the music.

“Relax.” The agent whispered against the shell of your ear and you shivered,

“Why are you doing this Javi?” You questioned, looking up into his eyes.

“Doing what?” He asked with a mildly bemused expression on his face.

“This. Dancing with me, paying me any form of attention.” You elaborated and his brow furrowed “We both know I’m not your type so this isn’t some ploy to get me to sleep with you, or at least I hope it's not. You’ve never spoken to me before tonight so why? What’s this all about?”

“How do you know what my type is?” He questioned, dark eyes watching you closely.

“Because I live across the hall from you and so have seen many of your conquests leave. All thin and beautiful which I am not.” You chuckled to yourself, glancing at Steve who watched the two of you.

“Well firstly, I think you are beautiful.” He stated and you rolled your eyes “Really, you don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a smooth talker that’s good at getting women to fall in love with him.” He snorted at the, glancing at Steve a moment before returning his attention to you “I know I’m not beautiful.” You shrug “I came to terms with that a long time ago but I don’t like to be teased or played with. So if this is some sort of game or bet. Please don’t involve me.” You pleaded and Javier felt his heart ache a little that you’d think such a thing.

“This is no game Hermosa.” He said softly “I like you and I wanted to dance with you.” He continued, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek “That's all that is going on here.”

“You like me?” You questioned, unable to help the squeak in your voice.

He nodded as he smiled at you and then time seemed to stand still. Your eyes flitted to his lips as you gazed at each other, the world around you falling away as Javier Peña cupped your face and kissed you softly. You didn't react for a moment, shocked that this is even happening and then you responded, kissing him back as your hands gripped his wrists and when he pulled away, all eyes were on you.

“Can I take you home Hermosa?” He asked quietly as he gazed at you, smiling when you nodded in reply and then he was leading you out. Greg and the party were all forgotten.

…

“I hope you don’t expect me to sleep with you this evening.” You chuckled, smiling shyly at the man driving you.

“A man can always hope.” He replied, glancing at you a moment before returning his attention to the road.

“Well, I’m not that easy.” You stated, sticking your tongue out at him playfully which elicited a throating laugh from the agent "I like to be wooed first."

You loved his laugh. It brought you all new waves of pleasure to hear it but as your building seeped into view, along with a familiar-looking truck parked out front, the realisation hit you like a freight train.

“Oh my god.” You sobbed as you hopped out of his truck, clutching your middle as you cried.

“Hermosa what’s wrong?” Asked Javier, his tone panicked as he sprinted to your side.

“Greg.” You choked and he noticed you staring at the vehicle parked in front of his “I kissed you, and I left him there. What… Why would I do that?”

Javier pulls you into his arms, holding you as you cried over the relationship you know you had destroyed. He pulled you with him, taking you inside and into his apartment where he sat you down on his couch and poured you a drink.

“Thank you.” You hiccuped as you took the drink from him, staring at the glass as he sat beside you “I liked Greg.” You started, eyes not wavering from your glass “He was sweet. Liked me for me and I’d never had that before. All my previous boyfriends wanted one thing and I got burned so much I gave up on the idea that someone could want more with me.”

“You have to go through some hurt to find the right man.” Javier replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close “You’ll find him I’m sure. You deserve happiness.”

You sat there and talked for a little longer. Until your eyes were so heavy you could no longer keep them open and when Javier noticed you dosing off, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bed. He didn’t try anything. Just simply held you and it was the best sleep he’d had in years.

~

You had no idea you’d be the talk of the office when you returned from the holidays. Greg hadn’t spoken to you since that night and neither had Javi. You’d snuck out the next morning before he’d woken up, mortified that you’d fall asleep at his. You knew you hadn't had sex with him but you’d still slept with him and that brought on all kinds of different emotions. Did he like you the way you like him?

“So how was it?” Asked Kirsten as sat down at your desk, her eyebrows lifting.

“How was what?” You asked, your confusion evident in your features.

“Your hot night with agent Peña.” She elaborated and you almost choked on your coffee “You did fuck him right?”

“No, I didn’t.” You expelled, already feeling sick to the stomach at the realisation you were the talk of the office.

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes at your denial “No one goes home with Javier Peña without him having his way with them. You’re so lucky.” She sighed “Although poor Greg left with his tail between his legs. No one blames you for going to the better dish though… Javi is quite the meal.”

You abruptly grabbed your bag and stood from your chair, not stopping to pick it up as it clattered on the stone floor. All you could think about was getting out of there, and fast. You couldn’t miss the sniggering as you swiftly left the office, only to be stopped by two hands grabbing your shoulders.

“Woah what's up?” Asked Greg as he pulled you to the side.

“I uh… everyone's laughing at me.” You sobbed, eyes skirting around and catching peoples stares.

“What did you expect when you went home with Agent Peña.” He scoffed and you looked up at him with a broken expression “All those months clearly meant nothing to you as you dropped your panties for him the moment he called.”

“What? No… I didn’t sleep with him.” You assured, head shaking tears loose from your eyes “I swear to you I didn’t. He kissed me and that’s it.”

“Didn’t see you pushing him away.” He growled and your stomach sank “Despite what you pulled, I still care about you so I will have a word with the others. Just try to keep your head down from now on yeah?”

You nodded, sniffing as you watched him walk away but as you looked around you could see that everyone was still looking at you, talking about you.

You needed to leave.

Your sprinted to the elevators, uncaring of anyone else's attention and pressed the button vigorously, willing it to arrive. You didn’t even look when it opened, just shuffled inside and pressed the button for the parking level. You’d explain later why you’d left.

“Everything okay?” Came a soft Southern voice and you turned your head to see Steve beside you “Rough day?”

“Putting it lightly.” You replied, letting out a watery chuckle as you threw your head into your hands.

“I told Javi to leave you alone. Fucking prick.”

“No this is all my fault.” You sobbed as you looked up at him “Javi was sweet. I should really talk to him but today isn’t the day. Right now I need to go home and wallow.”

“Well, you can do that together if you like.” He chuckled and you looked at him in confusion “He ended up taking today off.

“Right.” You replied as you pulled your bag tighter over your shoulder as you exited the lift and headed towards your car.

Maybe you should speak to him today.

…

You’d more or less talked yourself out of it by the time you'd made it back to your apartment building. You pulled into your allotted parking spot, sprinted up the stairs and made it to your front door, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.

“What are you doing back?” He asked and you turned to face him, noting how his brows were drawn together in concern.

“I uh… Well, let's just say I’m the talk of the office.” You replied plainly as you pulled out your key, desperate to escape this inevitable conversation.

“Why?” He asked and you looked at him again in amazement.

Did this guy seriously have no clue?

“Well, let's see Javi. I turned up at this year's Christmas party with Greg, the guy I was seeing and then left with you after you kissed me in front of all of our colleagues. Why do you think that I’m the subject for office gossip?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited his response.

“We didn’t sleep together thought?”

“They don’t know that” You replied, rolling your eyes at him “So that’s what everyone assumed happened. That I waited months to take that step with Greg but one kiss from you and I give you what you want.”

“I’m sorry Hermosa.” He replied, his eyes taking on a sad puppy dog quality that immediately had your anger melting away.

“Why aren’t you at work today Javi?” You questioned as your body language relaxed and you turned to put your key in the door.

“One of my informants died.” He announced and you immediately turned to look at him “She uh… Well, she was ratted in by one of her colleagues. We found her last night mutilated and raped.”

“Oh Javi, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You replied as you gave him a sympathetic look, your heart breaking from the pain that was so evident on his face “Did you want to come in?” You asked innocently and he nodded, taking the hand you offered and following you inside.

Little did you know that this time, you really would give Javi what he wanted. You talked, you consoled each other, you kissed and then finally when the kissing became heated and passionate you fucked him, allowing your own troubles to be dissolved by pleasure. You allowed yourself to lose yourself in him and he buried himself in you to escape himself but when all was done and you lay their sated in his arms you started to wonder.

Maybe he did like you.

~

It doesn’t take long for word to spread around the office that you had fucked Javier Peña now. Someone else who lived in the building overhearing your activities and telling the entire office the following day so when you’d turned up the following feeling more relaxed, it was quickly ripped away from you.

“So decided to skive off for a fantastic fuck with Javi Peña eh?” Kirsten asked as she winked at you, the colour completely draining from your face “You lying slut though. I knew you were shagging him.”

“I uh…”

“Oh no use in denying it, you were heard. You’re apparently pretty vocal in the sack.” She sniggered as the other girls in the office started to chuckle along with her “Oh Javi.” She mocked “Oh Javi yes… just there-“

You left before she could finish her berating, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way through the halls to the bathrooms in the hope you could cry alone in there but sure enough, you were not to be so lucky. Greg grabbed you as you tried to scurry past but there was no sympathy in those blue orbs anymore, nothing but anger.

“You fucking slut.” He growled, eyes burning you “I courted you for months. Treated you right and the first moment you get you fuck man whore Peña?” He spat and you flinched at his outburst “You just used me. Did you even fucking like me?”

“Yes, Greg.” You sobbed, fat tears flowing freely now “I did like you... I do even. I like you a lot, I swear I didn’t use you.”

“But you couldn’t resist opening your legs for Javier Peña.” He growled, snarling at you as he watched your face crumble “You know he doesn’t commit so good luck regaining any credibility you had here.” He finished, leaving you sobbing in his wake.

You quickly sprinted through the halls, people's mocking laughter filling your ears but you just pushed forward. You looked up a moment and that's when you caught eyes with him, the man from which all this trouble had stemmed from and you stopped, giving him a hopeful look as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side.

“What's the matter?”

“You seriously the only person in the embassy not to hear the latest gossip?” You asked, noticing the genuine confusion that spread across his face.

“We were heard Javi.” You explained, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves “Someone heard us and has told everyone.” You sobbed, face leaning into his hand as he cupped your cheek “But you can set everyone straight, tell them that this is different? I mean, it was different right?” You asked, eyes pleading for him to soothe your worries.

“Hermosa…” He trailed off as he dropped his hand and shook his head, your stomach dropping “Hermosa I-.”

“You said you like me.” You choked, eyes growing wide as you shook your head in disbelief “That I’m beautiful.”

“I do and you are.” He assured you “But I’m not a commitment guy.” He paused and you felt sick “What we did was just two friends comforting each other. Nothing more.”

You can’t believe it. How had you gone and done this again? You’d given yourself to someone body and soul only to be stomped on again. You were a fool and you knew it. There was never going to be a chance of Javier Peña want more than to bury himself in you. You were plain. Simple.

Ordinary.

You left without another word. Darting into the nearest bathroom where you emptied the contents of your stomach before crying yourself dry. When you did finally emerge you were called into your manager's office and were instantly told to take some time. You had some leave to take so they advised you to take it. Let the scandal die down a little. You couldn’t be the talk of the office forever.

So you do. You take the two months you accrued and you leave, numb the entire drive back to your apartment. You thought about going home, actually taking a vacation but then you’ve never been one for adventure. You don’t have anyone back home. No family or friends to speak of so you decide to spend it here. At home. Wallowing in your own self-pity.

~

2 months later…

Javier had noticed your absence and he’d also noticed that you never left your apartment. At least you never left it when he was around to see it. He knew you were due back today, one of the other secretaries informing him that your leave had ended so why weren’t you here? It wasn’t like you to be late. You were always in before most of the other office admins were, sipping your coffee as you went through your daily schedule.

No one else seemed to be worried about your absence. A few assuming you’d forgotten that you were due to come back but they were a little surprised when Agent Peña had started asking around for you. Everyone knew that things between you and him had crashed and burned, your very public refusal being the next hot topic for the weeks that followed. So when he came up short with your colleagues he went to your boss, his worry growing by the minute.

“I’m not sure why it matters to you where she is.” Stated your boss as they continued to skim through the paperwork in front of them “It’s because of you that she ended up taking leave.”

“I understand that but…”He paused a moment, trying to carefully plan what he needed to say “She lives opposite me. I’ve not seen her leave in two months or even heard a peep from her apartment. I know that her suffering is my doing but I do care about her well being.”

“Well, you should have thought about her well being before you dragged her name through the dirt.”

“Do you know where she is?” He growled, growing more and more impatient by the second.

“Yes, I do.” They replied plainly.

“So?”

“She’s in the hospital.” Javier’s eyes shot open, stomach dropping as he stared at the older woman across from him.

“What… what happened?” He asked although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I can’t tell you that.” She stated and he let out a frustrated sigh

“Is she at least going to be okay?”

“She’s in a bad way.” She paused as she finally placed the documents in her hands down “If you want to see her I can’t stop you. Just know… it is very likely that she won’t want to see you.”

She told the agent where you were and watched as he left, knowing that deep down he had a right to know what had happened to put you there.

…

A few flashes of his badge and he was soon led to your room, stopping the doctor as he left your room and demanding he be told what was wrong. He could see that you were sleeping inside and he felt himself ease a little seeing that you weren’t bloody and beaten. So what was wrong?

“She was poisoned.” The doctor explained in Spanish and Javier felt his anxiety shoot through the roof again.

“Poisoned?” He asked “How? By who?”

“By herself.” The doctor stated and Javier’s stomach dropped.

Had he really hurt you that badly?

“She tried to terminate her pregnancy using an old home remedy.” The doctor elaborated and Javier jumped at that.

“Pregnancy?”

“Yes.” The doctor nodded “She is around 2 months pregnant.”

Javier knew instantly it was his and a mixture of emotions coursed through him. Why had you not come to him? Why did you feel like this was the right thing to do? If there was a baby involved he would do what was right. You had to know that right?

“She is sedated.” The doctor continued “The baby survived. The remedy did not work but it did nearly kill her. She was hysterical when she arrived. Begging us to save it.” He paused, glancing at you before returning his attention to Javier “I don’t think she really wanted to get rid of it. She was just desperate and scared. She should be okay though. We will continue to monitor her and the baby. ”

Javier nodded before stepping aside so the Doctor could leave. His mind was racing as he stepped inside of your hospital room and taking a seat at your side. He would wait. Wait until you woke up and he would talk to you. He needed to understand why you did this. Why you felt you had no other option.

…

You were shocked to find Peña dosing in the chair beside your bed when you woke up. How did he even know you were here? Your head was pounding and your mouth dry so you turned your head to find the bottle of water a nurse had brought you earlier, only to knock it when you went to grab it. The agent woke instantly and you groaned in frustration. You didn’t need his lecture right now.

“Hey.” He said softly as he grabbed the bottle and opened it before bringing it to your lips “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged as you sipped the water, relishing how it soothed your sore throat and dry tongue. You nodded when you’d had your fill and watched as he screwed the lid back on and placed it back on the table.

“What are you doing her Javier?” You rasped and he flinched at your inquiry.

“I was worried about you.” He stated, sad eyes locking with yours “The doctor said you and the baby are going to be okay.” He said with a smile and your eyes started to water.

“So you know?”

“Yes.” He replied plainly “He also told me you tried to get rid of it.” He paused, stroking away a tear that escaped from your eye “Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t want it.” You replied, lip trembling as you spoke “And I didn't want to raise it on my own.” You paused, watching him process your words before you go for the jugular “Besides, I was just another one of your conquests. Can't go tarnishing your record and I’ve destroyed my reputation enough. Having your baby will just destroy whatever integrity I have left.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asks, stomach twisting.

“I’m going to leave Javier.” You said plainly “I will leave and I will raise this baby on my own. No one will ever need to know you have a bastard child with one of your many whores. I want nothing from you so you can go now.”

“Hermosa I-“

“Leave.” You growled, angry tears staining your cheeks “I’m giving you the out you want. Take it.”

Part 2

[andypantsx3]

defiant | bakugou/reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Reader

status: complete

length: 4,485 words

summary: There are a lot of benefits to managing your pro hero boyfriend, but dealing with the PR nightmares he generates is not one of them. After Katsuki gets way too mouthy with a hapless reporter, you take it upon yourself to put him in his place.

Katsuki, however, has other ideas.

tags/warnings: smut, arguing, possessive sex, light bondage, aged up characters, reader attempts to dom bakugou (keyword: attempts)

notes: This is based several years after the events of my fic savvy though you do not need to have read it to enjoy this one!! This is also unedited because I am too lazy, my apologies for the various mistakes within. I will come back and fix them at some point. Dedicated to @bobawithpomegranate​ for reminding me I was supposed to be working on this.

It was a Friday afternoon at approximately three p.m. when Bakugou Katsuki lost his fucking mind.

You knew this information because you had been watching the press coverage of your boyfriend’s latest fight, an operation in which he and Kirishima Eijirou had paired up to defeat a villain with an earthquake quirk.

Katsuki and Kirishima had taken the man down in record time, mere minutes after the reporters showed up. You’d watched them pound the villain into the very street he’d ripped up in the first place, and now Kirishima was puttering around in the background of the news coverage, smiling as he chatted up civilians against the wreckage of the city street behind him. Which left Katsuki to saunter over to the gaggle of field reporters and give the customary interview.

His blonde hair was disheveled, and his mouth was quirked up into a sharp smile, the way it always was after he’d just come out of a good fight. But he looked otherwise unharmed, just as intense and savagely handsome as always. He even looked like he might be in a good mood, pleased with the results of his fight, and you thought he might actually keep the swearing to a minimum this time.

He ducked under the police tape, flaxen hair glinting gold under the afternoon sun, and stalked over to the nearest reporter, already opening his mouth to crow over his latest victory.

Which is when something off screen caught his attention.

There was a muffled question from one of the reporters--not from the network you were watching or the mic would have caught it--and Katsuki’s scarlet gaze cut to the side. You watched in horror as his expression slowly morphed into one of apoplectic rage.

“You fucking piece of shit,” Katsuki snarled, eyes narrowing, an explosion already crackling between his fingers.

The camera jerked to the side, catching the startled expression of another reporter. He looked vaguely familiar to you--tall, handsome in a bland kind of way, teeth bleached for his job as a television personality. You thought you might have met him briefly at the last Hero’s Gala, but you didn’t have time to linger on the memory--Katsuki was already on the move, fighting his way through the pack of reporters, looking ready to commit a murder.

“--think you can just fucking talk to me, asshole?” you heard him shout.

“What did he say?” a voice murmured off screen.

“--he just asked Dynamight how he feels about his success today,” another voice uttered, closer to the camera, sounding bewildered and more than a little alarmed.

“You’re gonna wish you had never fucking been born, asswipe!” Katsuki shouted over them.

He’d nearly reached the reporter when there was a blur of red and Kirishima was there, one bulky arm seizing Katsuki around the middle. He hauled Katsuki out of the sea of journalists, even as Katsuki struggled, spitting and snarling like a wet cat.

“You fucking try that shit again and I’ll fucking blow your teeth straight into your brain!” Katsuki hollered, drowning out whatever Kirishima was muttering to him.

Your phone screen lit up next to you, several notifications pinging simultaneously. You let out a gusty sigh, glancing down at the contact names. News outlets, looking to scoop their competitors by getting the first statement from the Dynamight Agency on Katsuki’s behavior.

You swiped over a screen and dialed the number for the PR department, watching Katsuki continue to rage on screen, struggling against Kirishima’s hold. The crags in Kirishima’s skin told you he was close to going Unbreakable, and the sight sent a hot bolt of irritation through you.

You had no idea what the hell Katsuki thought he was doing, launching himself at a reporter like that. A reporter who had apparently done nothing but ask him how he felt about the success of his fight, a question Katsuki--the smug fuck--typically reveled in answering.

It had been a long time since Katsuki’s last PR disaster (tackling pro hero Deku over the side of a buffet table after an innocuous comment at one of their first Hero’s Galas), and you’d gotten him to promise you to be more careful after that. You’d honestly thought he’d pretty much moved past that sort of thing now. He’d grown somewhat calmer with age--though not less foul mouthed--and as his girlfriend, you were able to exert some level of influence over his actions, as each year, your understanding of how to play him grew deeper and deeper.

So what the fuck he thought he was doing right now was absolutely beyond you. And also absolutely not appreciated, as you had much better things to be doing than cleaning up after him for a shit fit that he definitely could have controlled.

If there was something bothering him, you were going to make him tell you. And if he was up to his old tricks, maybe he needed a refresher on exactly why it was inappropriate to go off like a bomb at every little thing.

As Katsuki’s primary PR rep picked up on the other end of the line, already speaking to you in a brisk tone, you resolved yourself to the task. You were going to get to the bottom of whatever had sent Katsuki into a fit--and you were going to remind him how and why to behave himself.

Whether he wanted to or not.

The trickiest part of your plan was catching Katsuki off guard.

That kind of a feat was nearly impossible, as Katsuki had reflexes honed by years of experience, an alarmingly keen intellect, and a single-minded determination that was frankly terrifying to contemplate. It had been years since he’d been outmaneuvered by anyone in the field, and the odds were against anyone who thought they could get the jump on him.

Luckily for you, you knew that his single-mindedness was the one thing that could also be used against him.

You left the agency slightly earlier than normal, shooting off a message to Katsuki to let him know you’d meet him at home. And then you yanked open your proverbial bag of tricks.

You helped yourself to a long shower, lathering on some of Katsuki’s body wash instead of your own, a trick that--you’d learned after once running out of your own--sent him into something like a possessive frenzy, knowing you smelled like him, that anyone you encountered would know you’d helped yourself to a man’s personal effects and understand that you were already spoken for.

Then you rustled around in your drawers for a nicer pair of lingerie--not anything super fancy that would suggest you were up to anything special, but nice enough that Katsuki’s interest would be piqued.

And then you dug around in the closet for the most essential element of your plan--handcuffs. Your face warmed with the memory of the last time these had been used--a blur of rough palms and sharp teeth all over you, while you all but sobbed for more--but you frantically quashed the thought. Tonight, if all went according to plan, you wouldn’t be the one strapped helpless to the headboard.

You weren’t the one with a lesson to be learned, after all.

The scrape of keys in the door sent you dashing to hide the handcuffs underneath your pillow, and then the stomp of boots in the hall told you your boyfriend had made it inside. You hastily yanked a sweater and jeans over your lingerie, then went out to meet Katsuki in the kitchen.

He clearly hadn’t had time to change after his fight, still slightly disheveled, blonde hair mussed and scarlet eyes sharp as they narrowed in on you. His handsome features were twisted into a suspicious expression.

“The fuck’re you up to, ditching early? Thought I was gonna get fucking screamed at when I made it back to your office,” Katsuki growled, watching you intently as he stripped off his gloves and boots. They hit the ground with a dull thud.

Your heart shot into your throat, but you pasted on your best placid expression. “I ditched because I didn’t feel like dealing with every outlet in the entire country blowing up my office line. Thought I could get more done here where it’s quieter.”

You didn’t mention exactly what you planned to get done here, hoping Katsuki would assume it was all PR and damage control.

In a way, it was damage control. Just...not via traditional methods, exactly.

Katsuki’s eyes tracked you closely. He still looked skeptical. “You gonna let me have it then, princess?”

Oh you were gonna let him have it, alright. He just had no idea.

You watched him for a while, pretending to contemplate unloading on him the way you wanted to. “Just...not now. I’m too tired, I don’t even want to deal with it.”

He scoffed. “Bullshit. You live for giving me shit. Fucking out with it.”

You glared at him. “I don’t think you’re in any position to be giving me orders. And if I was gonna say anything before I’m certainly not now. Now go clean yourself up. I have work to finish, thanks to someone.”

You retreated back into the bedroom, smothering a grin.

Nothing got Katsuki jumped up like defiance. Years into your relationship, he knew on some level that he wasn’t actually in charge of you, but he still got just as worked up when you got mouthy with him as he had on day one. It wouldn’t be long until he came back in, trying to pick the same fight, altogether too interested in the attitude you’d give back to him.

He was such a boy.

You lounged around on the bed, pulling out your work laptop and firing off a couple emails while you waited, just for something to do. Katsuki’s PR rep seemed to have things well in hand, but you helped where you could.

Soon enough, Katsuki was stalking back into your room, hair dark from a shower, looking like he hadn’t even bothered to dry off before stomping back in. He wore only a dark pair of sweatpants, the hard planes of his chest on full display--you suspected he’d foregone a shirt on purpose, knowing how the sight of him usually distracted you.

Which it still did, somewhat, but you were too heady with your own plan to truly be diverted.

You smothered a laugh at the way Katsuki’s eyes immediately honed in on the lace of your bra strap, strategically peeking out of your sweater as you had arranged it.

Two could play at that game.

“Think you’re real fucking smooth, don’t you, princess?” he demanded, stalking over to loom over you in a vaguely threatening manner. You caught the clean scent of his body wash, just a hint of his syrupy sweet quirk under that.

Your thoughts fogged a little with his proximity so you pretended to ignore him, typing out some nonsense notes into your calendar for something to keep your attention off of him. The less you looked at him, the easier this would be. You were weak to his appearance, it was true, and nothing riled him up like not having your full attention.

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you said vaguely, doing your best to sound distracted.

A rough palm shoved your laptop closed. “Oh I think you fucking do, princess. Think you’re gonna get all dressed up for me and then ignore me?”

You looked up into his face, just as his arms came down around you to cage you against the mattress. A thick spike of arousal jolted through you, but you pushed it down. Much as you were into this, he was not going to be in charge for much longer.

“And if I did?” you asked, victory surging through your veins at the dark look that entered his eye.

He leaned down, putting his face near to yours. “Gonna be real hard to ignore me when I’m fucking you so hard you’ll feel me for weeks.”

“You’re awfully confident for someone on such thin ice,” you breathed. You didn’t even have to pretend at being affected by his choice of words, your stomach fluttering with anticipation.

Katsuki wasted no time covering your mouth with his. The weight of him pressed you back into the mattress, your laptop tumbling to the floor with a loud clatter. Rough hands trailed up your sides, gathering up the fabric of your sweater and pulling it over your head.

Carefully, you eased him over, kissing him as hard as you could, so that you were the one on top, your knees braced on either side of his slim hips.

Katsuki swore, pressing you down on him with a rough palm on your back, evidence of his interest hard between your thighs.

And that’s when you struck. Using his momentary distraction, you pulled the handcuffs from beneath your pillow, weaving them through the headboard. You grabbed his hands as firmly as you dared, pressing them up over his head.

Katsuki noticed what you were doing the second before the handcuffs snapped shut over his wrists.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, nerd?” he demanded, flexing against the tight hold. You watched with interest as his bicep pulled with the effort. “Unlock these or you’re in for it.”

You sat back on his hips, smirking down at him the way he usually did at you. Triumph swelled in your gut like a symphony.

“No, you’re in for it, Katsuki. What the absolute fuck did you think you were doing today?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You think I was just gonna let you get away with throwing a tantrum on national television for no discernable reason?”

“That’s none of your business,” he ground out. A bright spark lit up the skin of his palm, a sharp crackle slicing into the silence of your room. “Now unlock these while I’m still asking nicely.”

You trailed absent fingers down the warm skin of his abdomen, watching appreciatively as the muscle tightened under your touch. Katsuki hissed out a sharp breath.

He might be threatening, but he ran the risk of blowing off his own hands if he resorted to using his quirk right now. You didn’t think he’d chance his own skin just to get out of this situation.

“I’m your manager and your girlfriend--it’s one hundred percent my business. You’re not getting out of those until you tell me what the hell you thought you were doing,” you promised darkly. You let your nails scrape over the skin of his hip, just under the band of his sweatpants.

You felt his hips shift in interest.

“You’re really asking for it, huh, princess?” he said, his voice rough. “I’m not gonna be gentle with you when I get out of this.”

“Keep avoiding the question and you’ll never get out of this,” you said. You let yourself lean over him, reveling in his minute intake of breath as you pressed a kiss over his neck. “You want something, I’ll give it to you. But only if you tell me why you did it.”

“It’s between me and that fucking slimeball and that’s all you need to know,” Katsuki snarled.

You let your teeth scrape over his skin, the way he usually did with you. “Not good enough,” you said.

Katsuki’s hips shifted again as you pressed back harder onto him. You felt your own abdomen coil tight with hot excitement at the unconscious little circles he was making. But you couldn’t be distracted--you had a mission to accomplish.

“Mind your damn business you fucking nerd,” he growled, defiant to the last.

Well, you hadn’t thought this was going to be easy.

“You are my business,” you informed him tritely. “And if you ever want me to take care of your business again, you’re going to tell me exactly what is going on.”

“Fuck,” he said instead. “You’re so hot when you get mouthy.”

“Not the answer I was looking for,” you told him. You shoved down the hot flush that tried to rise through you at his admission. Even years later, you were weak to his praise and he knew it.

He bucked a little under you, like he was unable to help himself. “Let me touch you, princess.”

“Still not an answer,” you intoned. You held very still, careful not to squirm like he was making you want to, even as his thrusts grew more deliberate.

If he would just hurry the fuck up and give you an answer, you both could be getting what you wanted. But everything had to be a production with him, as usual.

He was lucky he was so hot, and so charming on the rare occasion when he wanted to be, because he really was a piece of fucking work. You deserved some kind of sainthood for your service to him.

You slid forward on his chest a little when he gave a particularly strong thrust, bracing your hands over his sternum, and the abrupt show of strength had you clenching your thighs unthinkingly around him.

Katsuki’s mouth twisted in a savage grin, like he knew exactly how he was affecting you. “This is your last warning, princess. Let me out or you’re fucking in for it.”

You frantically schooled your features back into some form of haughty disregard, reaching down into your nightstand for the keys. You twirled them absently around your fingers.

“I don’t think you understand what kind of position you’re in,” you said firmly. “The only way you’re getting what you want is if you tell me what kind of stick that reporter stuck up your ass. Or maybe he didn’t, and you’re just being a fucking brat. Either way, you’re not in charge here--I am, and you are the one who’s in for it.”

No sooner had the words left your mouth, however, than the tang of hot metal met your nose. Katsuki’s savage smile was bordering on feral now. You looked up in alarm to see that above his head, he’d worked his palms over to press to each opposite wrist, but he wasn’t blowing through the cuffs like you’d known he couldn’t. Instead, he was melting them.

You swore, scrambling off of him. You threw yourself off the edge of the bed, racing for the door like the devil himself was behind you.

You weren’t fast enough.

The world upended, the white of your ceiling paint swirling up over your vision. The next thing you knew, you were thrown flat on your back in your bedding, bouncing a little from the impact against your mattress.

Katsuki braced himself over you, hands firm around your wrists, eyes alight with the challenge.

“You were saying, princess?” he asked smugly.

You wiggled underneath him, trying to work a leg underneath his hip to kick him off you the way you’d learned in self-defense. Katsuki just shifted into the cradle of your hips, huffing out a rough laugh.

“I fucking taught you that move, nerd. Think you’re gonna get me with it?”

His hips pressed forward, his body a hot line all along yours, and you suppressed a groan at the feel of him hard against your core.

“That’s right, princess,” Katsuki breathed, pressing his face into your shoulder to bite at your throat. “Now I’m going to remind you who’s in charge here, and you are going to be good for me and take every single thing that I give you.”

He gathered your wrists in one hand, reaching down with long fingers to work off your jeans.

You shivered in delight at the thought of his dark promises, but some other, more stubborn part of you resisted. You had a fucking job to do, and no way was he going to reroute you so he could get out of talking about things.

“You’re not giving me shit until you tell me exactly why you tried to blast some innocent reporter into the sun,” you said hotly.

Katsuki paid you no mind, too focused on pulling your jeans off over your ankle, so you leaned in and bit his shoulder.

“The fuck--?” he demanded, reeling back.

“I’m serious, Katsuki,” you said, irritation rising. “You tell me what is going on this second or it’s just you and your hand for the next month. I’m not fucking around.”

“He’s not some innocent reporter, he’s a piece of shit,” Katsuki said. His fingers worked at the clasp to your bra, like he thought that was enough of an answer.

“And you know this how?” you asked, trying to shift to crush his fingers underneath your shoulder.

He glared at you for a long moment, red eyes hot on your face, looking like he was strongly considering just abandoning the conversation altogether and stalking off to blow something up instead.

“I know,” he finally ground out, looking like every word cost him, “because I overheard him in the men’s room at the last Hero’s Gala.”

So you did know the reporter from the Hero’s Gala. A dim memory came to you of shaking his hand, leaning over to get Katsuki’s attention to get him an answer to some question he’d asked. You were fuzzy on the details, as you’d had other things to worry about that night--the Hero’s Gala had ended with Katsuki in some kind of mood with Kirishima, the arm of Kiri’s suit burnt off, and Katsuki had refused to say more on things. They’d patched things up almost immediately after so you hadn’t pried, but now you wondered if there wasn’t more to the story--more including this reporter.

“Overheard him what?” you asked.

Katsuki’s fingers resumed their questing, releasing the back of your bra with the ease of constant practice. You let him, considering he was still giving you answers.

“Overheard him fucking talking about you,” Katsuki growled, his fingers digging into your waist, his touch turning more possessive.

You froze. “What?”

“Saying the nastiest shit about how you looked in your dress, what he’d like to do with you if you didn’t already belong to me,” Katsuki said, sounding disgusted. “Wanted to incinerate him but fucking Kiri got in the way. Told me I’d lose my license if I attacked a civilian and he took me to court.”

“Which you would,” you pointed out, your tone going breathier than you wanted when Katsuki slid his fingers up to pluck at your nipple. “That--um--that was still the case today, too. What did you think you were doing?”

“Didn’t think,” he grunted, palming your breast. He didn’t look like he was thinking a lot now either, eyes turning on your chest with that single-minded focus he was famous for. “I just saw him and saw red.”

You were starting to see colors too--white, mainly, as Katsuki released your wrist to trail his other hand over your panties with obvious intention.

“Oh, um. Well I’m glad you didn’t kill him and have to lose your license,” you said, your breath hitching when Katsuki found his way into your underwear. “I’m gonna--have to--ah--thank Eijirou.”

“You belong to me,” Katsuki announced imperiously, leaning back in to bite at your throat again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with him, now. Instead, his words relit some fuse within you, your arousal sparking back to life behind your navel.

Katsuki’s fingers curled within you and you couldn’t hold back a pleased little noise, shifting your hips to allow him better access.

That was all the affirmation he needed. In mere minutes, he was working you up to the edge of your pleasure, fingers hot and skilled and exactly right inside you. He trailed soft bites and hot kisses all over your neck and shoulders, looking supremely satisfied with himself every time you caught sight of his face. His thumb worked tiny, maddening circles over your clit, just like he knew drove you fucking insane, and he had you writhing and squirming underneath him embarrassingly fast.

Soon, he was hitching your leg over a broad shoulder, sinking into you right where you wanted him.

“That’s right, princess. You’re mine. Gonna fuck you so good you’ll never forget it,” he promised, already working up to a brutal pace that left you short of breath.

Your vision swam as he ground into you. He leaned down to catch a nipple in his mouth, sucking softly, in sharp contrast to the wicked thrust of his hips.

“Look at you,” Katsuki said around your breast, scarlet gaze burning into yours. “Spread out and trembling. Look so fucking good for me, only for me.”

“Katsuki--ah!” you barely managed the syllables of his name.

“So fucking hot when you think you’re in control. So fucking mouthy--” his fingers brushed over your mouth “--I’m gonna fuck you so stupid you can’t even string together a sentence anymore.”

You rather thought he’d already achieved that, considering you could barely manage anything other than single syllable words now--nothing but there and more and please and oh!

Katsuki gave a particularly hard thrust, snarling your name--and your climax hit you like a truck.

You cried out, writhing, and his hands came up to hold you down against the mattress, still fucking into you hard like he meant to fuck the sense right out of you. He fucked you straight through your orgasm, and only when you were gasping from the aftershocks, shivering and near tears, did he follow you, flooding your insides with warm heat.

“That shut you right up, didn’t it, princess?” he said smugly as he rolled off of you, leaving another love bite over your shoulder on his way.

You groaned. It had been fucked up but kind of romantic that he’d attempted to murder a guy for you, but he was really killing the mood now.

“Is there anything that would shut you right up?” you replied, still catching your breath.

Unexpectedly, a smirk twisted your boyfriend’s mouth, and his hand trailed carefully down your thigh.

“There is, princess. Too bad it sounds like you can still string together a sentence,” he said, watching you intently.

You stared at him, wondering where he was going with this.

Until he moved, shifting backwards until his chin met your thigh, still watching you intently with those scarlet eyes.

“I can think of something that would fix both of those problems,” he said, his voice rough even as his hands came up to gently pry your thighs apart. “Now you have thirty seconds to call out of work tomorrow before I finish punishing you for that little show earlier.”

Your breath caught in your lungs again. You didn’t waste precious time defying him.

This time, you obeyed.

Deleted scene: What did Deku say to Bakugou that got him tackled over a buffet table at the Hero’s Gala?

[unabashegirl]

"You lied to me"

I’ve been writing this for a few weeks now. It’s just a lil something. I hope you all like it. 

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list and don't forget REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

Love you all

masterlist

----

“Yeh lied to me” He had been watching her for a few minutes. He was quite surprised that she hadn’t noticed his presence through the window. He had just woken up from a quick nap and come out of the bedroom to find her. She was just where he expected her to be— in his office. 

His office was her nook. It was where she spent the majority of her day especially when he wasn’t around. The room was tainted with Harry’s personality all over. Both walls had built-in bookshelves. Packed with all types of literary pieces. Books that Harry had taken the time to pick. By just reading the titles anyone could tell what type of man Harry was. The books told his story. They were part of him and his incredible journey. 

A floor-to-ceiling, arched window was placed at the back of the room with two French doors adjacent to it, making it the most naturally illuminated room in the house. One of the many reasons, she loved spending her time there. The room was decorated with dark furniture. Although the mosaic carpet and colorful throw pillows contrasted. 

“I did not” Y/N argued back without knowing what she was denying doing. “What did I do?” She make sure to mark the page of her book before turning her seat to get a look at her boyfriend. 

“You are wearing my shirt, Darlin” A smile dangled on the corner of his lips as he pointed to his “daddy but I love him” shirt on her frame. He had been looking for it for weeks. He had looked through the piles of laundry and the closets. Harry had even searched through her t-shirt drawer, but it had been all in vain. She had tucked the bottom of the shirt under her bra making it the ideal little crop top to match her high-waisted blue jeans. “On top of that, you dared to wrinkle it by wearing it incorrectly” He teased as he strode into the room. 

He wore blue jeans just like hers and a simple button-down shirt. He had no shoes and his hair was tossed around from rolling around in bed. This was her favorite type of Harry. He was always cuddly and playful just after a nap. He was also his most relaxed. It was refreshing to see. 

“It was too big on me” Y/N explained as she crossed her legs. Harry gripped the arms of the chair preventing her from swiveling. 

“S’not! Are you calling me fat?” He hunched over her as he got lost in her mesmerizing eyes. A “boop” left his lips just after poking her in her bare stomach knowing how ticklish she was. But never once losing his confident smile. 

“You could weigh 500 pounds and I would still love you, doofus” She laughed as she swats his hands away from her. There she was; declaring and reassuring him of her unconditional love towards him. Something that still made him feel like the day he declared his love for her three years ago.

His fingers gently grip her chin, guiding her mouth to his. He kissed her, reciprocating his love. Y/N pecked his lips gently while he pressed his forehead against hers. 

“I love you” she whispered as Harry’s hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her up to him. She wrapped her legs around him and her arms around his neck as he walked them back to the couch. She straddled him as he pushed her hair off her shoulders revealing the necklace that he had gotten her for Christmas. 

“Aren’t you tired, lovie?” He questioned while fiddling with the pendant. He had ordered it weeks ahead. The present had almost not made it to Christmas. He had also almost ruined the surprise because of his excitement.  She shook her head at him while he planted gentle kisses on the skin of the crook of her neck. 

“Then I didn’t do a good job this morning m’love” Y/N giggled as she is tickled by the slight stubble that he had. They were mostly night owls when it came to sex, but this morning she had woke up to Harry pressing himself against her backside. Eager for some relief, she complied and probably experienced one of her best orgasms. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about how exquisite she looked this morning.  And how gracefully her hair looked when the morning sun hit upon it as she rode him. The lust her eyes carried as her hips worked magic on him. The way her deliciously smooth skin left like heaven against his. He still couldn't get the sound of her moans and her soft voice asking for more out of his mind. And how her overly kissed lips looked after he had finished with her. 

“Wha’ are we going to do about these shirts dilemma?” Harry asked as he pulled on his shirt that was on her. It was all a joke, he enjoyed teasing her. And he loved seeing her in his clothes. Most of his sweaters and t-shirts hung on her side of the closet, but he didn’t mind. He found adorable the comfort she found in wearing his clothes. 

“You could always wear mine” Y/N gave him a toothy smile. “Tit for tat” she smiled playfully knowing they would never fit him. Half of his long torso would be uncovered due to the difference of statues between them. Her shirts on him would be crop tops. She planted a kiss on his defined yaw. 

“Nu’ uh. They are very uncomfortable” Harry loved her sense of style, but some of the shirts had too many straps and looked quite difficult and complicated to wear.

“Hey! They are very comfortable” Harry gently got her off his lap so he could stand up. “Where are you going?” Y/N asked with a giggle as she watched him leave the room. “Baby!” She yelled after him with no luck. 

It only took Harry a few seconds to come back into the room, attempting to wear one of her favorite tops. It was a corset that had been recently sent to her. Y/N was quite impressed that Harry had been able to button it at least a bit. 

“This? This is torture” Y/N let loose a loud laugh as Harry turned, showing her how poorly he had been able to tie it at the back. “How can you wear this?”

“That’s a corset baby. They are meant to be uncomfortable” Harry shook his head to his girlfriend as he tried his best not to stand straight and potentially ruin the modern-day torture machine. “What about my Rolling Stones tee? I am sure you can wear that one”  He left frowning in search of the shirt. 

Y/N’s hands itched to record the small, private fashion show that was taking place. She abstained knowing that if she wasn’t concentrated on recording, the sweet memory of her boyfriend wearing her clothes, would be further preserved in her mind. 

“Loot at you! That one fits” She giggled at Harry as he stood before her with his hands on his hips. He looked exactly like that episode on Friends when Ross squeezed himself into Rachel’s favorite shirt. One of their personal favorite episodes. 

“I might tear it” He chuckled minutes before he yanked it off his body. “Did I prove my point?” Harry asked as he flopped back on the couch beside her.

“Fine” Y/N exhaled loudly and standing up. “you clearly can't wear my shirts. Therefore, I will have to stop wearing your clothes” she frowned,  grabbing the hem of the shirt and pulling over her head.

“Wha’ are yeh doing?”

“Giving you your shirt back” She responded innocently undressing in front of her boyfriend. “Too bad” she shrugged. “My boyfriend sings about treating people with kindness but doesn’t allow his girlfriend to wear his favorite shirts” She teased, “What would his fans say?” 

“Oh! That’s it! Y’are getting it!” Harry laughed as he shot up from the couch and went chasing after his topless girlfriend around the house. Their laughs and love-filled the halls of their house, the very same thing that built the foundation of their forever home. 

-- 

[unloved-cadillac]

Some fluffiness of growing close to Levi then one day you save him from a titan and afterwards you both realize you’re in love with each other

C/n: I’m a sucker for this kind of love. I feel it’s much better than ‘love at first sight.’ Thanks for requesting and I hope that you enjoy🤍

♫ listen to this.

——————————————————————————

Realization. (Levi x Reader)

“...so the main character chooses the wrong one and the sky turns black. Then black stones start to form on the ground and OH MY GOD! It was so scary!” You exclaim and cover your face.

“This book sounds so confusing.” Levi says and then sips his tea. “It’s not! There’s just a lot of things to take into consideration. You’ll love it, Levi. It’s right up your alley.” You smile at him.

This is how it has been for a couple of months now. You and Levi had grown rather close ever since you became a Squad Leader. He was assigned to teach you all the things it takes to be a leader and such, but these moments were just two friends hanging out. You both knew each other ever since your cadets days. You still remember seeing Levi introduce himself with his sister and brother there.

Nowadays, everyone saw you with Levi or Levi with you. It’s like you two never strayed far apart from each other. Hange asked you about it and you didn’t know how to respond. “I don’t know what to say to ya, Hans. Levi’s been a really good friend to me and I guess we just grew close to each other.” “Mmhmm sure.” The cadets even saw you make tea for him and he even smirked at it. He SMIRKED. Imagine the cadets reaction to that scene.

And when you both spoke to each other, normally Levi would give a vague reaction or just him in response to anyone, but to you he genuinely answered and gave his input. It was...refreshing for Erwin and Hange to see him talk so much. He hasn’t been like that ever since losing Farlan and Isabel.

In his office, Levi sat by his desk as he did some paperwork and you hung around. You got ahold of a spare cravat and was playing with it, trying to put it on. “By the walls, Levi! How the hell do you put this on??” You ask, exasperated. Levi picked his head to see you with the cravat all around your face. He surpassed a chuckle and rolled his eyes at you. “I’ll show you.” He got up and walked to you and moved the material away from your face. “First you do this,” he starts to say as his hands began to work the cravat. You weren’t even paying attention to what he was saying, he was so close. His lemon scent invaded your nostrils and hair falling in front of his face. His slender fingers wrapped the cravat around your neck and slightly brushed your skin sending goosebumps all over it. “And you’re done.” He whispers and takes a look at you.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes never left his face. Or your smile. Nothing. “Go take a look.” He finally breaks the silence between you two and you look in the mirror and smiled. You crossed your arms and put on a stern look. “The name’s Levi.” After you said that you bursted into a laughter. “Was that supposed to be me, brat?” He asks, smiling a tiny bit. “Of course! Spot on, right?” “No. Not even close.”

You giggled and looked at him as he stared at you. “Well, I,” you begin as you take off the cravat, “I should get going. We got a big day tomorrow.” You hand the cravat to him and he shakes his head. “Keep it.” He simply says and ruffles your hair. “Goodnight, Y/n.” “Goodnight, Levi.”

Giving him one last smile, you shut the door and walked back to your room with a big smile plastered on your face.

~~~~

The mission was smooth sailing. A few Titans here and there but nothing too bad. You rode your horse as you watched Levi take down the Titans that followed. He really was Humanity’s Strongest. Levi was busy taking down a titan when another came, out of nowhere mind you, and grabbed Levi’s wires. “Captain!” You yelled and shot your tears straight to him. You sliced the Titans hand and then it’s neck before catching Levi and tumbling to the floor. He held you and you held him, both wanting to save each other from the fall.

When you both stopped rolling, you lifted your head up from Levi’s chest and looked at him. “Are you okay?” You asked and he opened his eyes. “Ugh. Yeah. I’m fine. You?” “I’m okay.” You smile as you lay your head back on his chest. “You know, I can get used to this.” Levi suddenly says and rubs your back. Realizing what the actual hell you were doing, you scramble off of him and stand up.” “Ah! Levi I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have just laid on you like that. I apologize. That’s not profess-hmphf!” you get cut off with his lips on yours and arms holding yours.

“Has anyone told you that you talk too much?” Levi asks when he pulls away from you. “Yes.” you mutter and look down. You feel his lips on your forehead and his hands holding yours.

“But I like it. Just as much as I like you.”

——————————————————————————

“Haha. Squid go meep.”

🖤🤍Thanks for reading🤍🖤

-Caddy.

[pascalpanic]

Begin Again (Marcus Pike x f!Reader)

Inspo: Begin Again by Adam Melchor

Summary: Dating apps never pair you with the right people. Until you come across the profile of a handsome, pancake loving FBI agent named Marcus.

W/C: 4.8k

Warnings: lots of talk of food, language, late night deep conversations, some sadness at the end but nothing intense? reader has a pet cat, is that worth a warning? idk

A/N: HI GUYS this is my first full length Marcus Pike fic! I really hope you like it!! thank you so much to @theteddylupinexperience and @sanchosammy for being my best editors and proofreaders and idea givers!!!

note: PLS listen to the song before/after/while reading! it’s one of my favs and it really goes along with the story

Over the course of your adult years, you’ve become convinced that dating apps are complete and utter bullshit. The algorithms never work right, never pair you or any of your friends with anyone worth seeing in person. Maybe that’s just the problem; maybe it’s not the apps but the people. Whatever the answer is, whatever reason you’ve never found success in the endless swiping, you’re through with it.

That was before last week. The rainy Tuesday night left you in your apartment, alone, to succumb to the cold spring dreariness. Over a cup of hot tea, you’d downloaded the app again. Might as well try, right? You have nothing to lose. If worst comes to worst, catfishing an annoying guy is always a blast. The good news is that this app requires you as the woman to make the first move. That’s kind of a downside- you never know how to start conversations- but at least you can’t get unsolicited dick pics right off the bats. Life is full of tradeoffs, you suppose.

You begin again. The app becomes your favorite pastime. Bored at work or home? Dating app it is. Left. Left. Left. Boring man after boring man. One labeled himself super-straight: absolutely fucking not. One holding a fish: nope. A man who describes himself as a gym rat: not your type. It’s a boring way to spend your lunch break, you’re aware, but the entertainment value is fun if nothing else. There are a lot of strange men out there.

After a few days, your luck seems to turn around as the photo of a man with brown hair and warm brown eyes pops up on your screen. He has a scruffy beard and wavy hair, and the way his smile tugs at the corner of his lips makes your heart flutter. He’s really cute, you have to admit. You read the bio next.

Marcus, 35

❗️ Washington, D.C.

Got forced into making this, but optimistic. Lover of art, dogs, and time to relax. Always down for breakfast for dinner and cuddling. Looking for someone with a sense of independence, love of travel, and a sleep schedule equally fucked up as mine. Must love pancakes.

Must love pancakes. That’s absolutely adorable. You immediately think of your cat, named Pancake, and you laugh and swipe right, hoping the man already thought the same of you. Your eyes widen with excitement and you almost laugh out loud from your giddy state when you see the little logo indicating it’s a match.

The first message you send him has to be perfect. You ponder your options for a minute, frowning and furrowing your brow as you think. You don’t want to come on too strong; you’re not trying to sound like you want a hookup. A simple one-word greeting wouldn’t be enough.

You could comment on something from his bio, you realize as you read it again and again. Maybe ask him about his dog? No, that’s too awkward. You want it to be about him, something that can draw him in. Talk about traveling? No, you don’t want to sound like you’re bragging about the places you’ve gone in your life.

Pancakes. Pancakes are good. You love pancakes. You think for a second more, debating what to say, before inspiration strikes and you send off the message before you can stop yourself.

-

Marcus Pike has essentially felt the same as you. He’s a somewhat charming man. He’s had his fair share of relationships, but they never quite work out. His ex-wife, now long gone and blocked from his phone, was an absolute failure of a relationship. He’d gotten close to what felt like true love with Teresa, another FBI agent, but she flaked at the last second.

Maybe the constant here was that he met them in person. When Marcus falls, he falls hard and fast, down an endless spiral of emotions with no escape. Maybe if he met someone online, it would be different. His best friends had all encouraged it, and on a night out not long after Teresa left him, Pike set up his own profile. He liked that the app didn’t require him to make the first move. It’s refreshing.

Marcus had seen your profile hours ago, on a mindless phone break from his work. He’d swiped right too, stunned by your smile and the lovelines you radiated even through the phone. He crossed his fingers for a good part of the day, hoping you’d swipe right on him too.

His day is busy, leaving him no time to fiddle with his phone and distract himself. He eats in the cafeteria, checking up on his phone. After lunch, he’s walking back to his office when his heart flutters as he sees the dating app indicates he’s had a match. He looks at it and swallows hard before stopping, moving to the side of the hallway to allow others to pass. He’s breathing hard, and his heart speeds up when he sees that you are the one that matched with him.

He knows how this app works. He has to wait now, to let you make the first move. He can’t even write a message until you send one. So he pockets his phone again and continues on his walk.

He’s determined on his walk, rushing back to his desk so he can sit and be thoroughly enthralled in waiting for or receiving your response. His phone buzzes several times with notifications, one of which he prays is you. When he finally sits, he opens the app ceremoniously and has to hold back a genuine laugh when he sees your first message.

Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus shoots back a text nearly immediately. Sorry, what?

Your bio. “Must love pancakes”. Blueberry or chocolate chip?

Marcus is absolutely beaming as he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs. Blueberry. Always. I hope that’s the right answer :)

Unfortunately, it’s not, but you’re cute so I’ll let it slide

You called him cute. It makes Marcus’s heart flutter. Come on. There’s nothing like the warm blueberry popping in your mouth.

There is. It’s when the chocolate chips are all melty and creamy.

God, Marcus is already painfully into you. You know what… at least you love pancakes. I’ll let it slide. You got a favorite place?

Anywhere I can get ‘em. You seem like quite the connoisseur, do you have one place in mind?

Jane slams down a stack of files on Marcus’s desk. “Paperwork overflow, Pike. Can you get these done tonight?”

Marcus is the fastest in the office with paperwork, which often leads to him being the one that flies through the files in the place of the people who actually filed it. He nods. What else is there to do? “Sure.”

Jane claps him on the shoulder and wanders off. Marcus watches him in slight annoyance. The best place in D.C. is definitely Sandy’s. Hey I gotta go, text ya later?

I’d love that :)

-

It didn’t take long for your texting to move from the dating app to actual texting. It happened within the same day, in fact.

Marcus messaged you some hours after the initial conversation. Your phone buzzed while you were doing yoga in your apartment, your cat curled into a ball beneath your stomach as you held a downward dog. You nearly collapsed on top of Pancake as you fumbled to sit cross-legged on the end of your yoga mat.

The message from Marcus is bright on the top of your screen. Hi. Sorry that took so long. Work stuff.

Smiling, you take a swig from your water bottle and lean back against your couch. Not a problem. Understandable. What do you do for a living? It’s a loaded question in D.C.; they could range anywhere from politicians to their rich sons to artists and athletes.

I work for the FBI, actually.

Your eyes light up in excitement. That’s the coolest shit I’ve heard. What do you do? Are you an agent?

The man’s responses don’t take long at all. He must be waiting in the chat to respond. The idea makes your heart flutter. Yep, I’m an agent. I work in international art crimes.

You certainly didn’t expect that for an answer. Wow, okay, that’s even cooler than I thought. I was about to call you Agent Pancake but I think my girl would be disheartened...

Snapping a photo of the way Pancake is nuzzling into your side, meowing for snuggles, you have to laugh as you send the photo his way. Funny you love pancakes so much. This little muppet is named Pancake.

Marcus responds with a barrage of heart-eyes emojis, which makes you laugh aloud and scoop Pancake into your lap, stroking her strawberry-blonde fluff. She’s an absolute angel. Like her mother, I’m presuming.

Your cheeks flood with warmth and you can feel the tips of your ears turning hot too. You’ve never even met me, Agent…? You trail off the text, asking for his last name.

Pike.

Agent Marcus Pike. What a nice sounding name. It sounds official and strong and you really like it. Cute last name. Might steal it from ya someday ;)

You don’t normally flirt this shamelessly, but he’s so goddamn cute and funny. You cross your fingers behind your back that this isn’t just a facade, that this is Marcus himself texting like he would to anyone else. You got a phone number?

As you laugh, Pancake paws at your chest to grab your attention, nails nearly digging into the stretchy fabric of your yoga tank top. “Watch it,” you scold her softly and remove her paw from your chest, picking her up and giving her a kiss on the head. Sure do. You want it?

Yes please.

You send your number his way and moments later, your phone pings with a text from an unlabeled number.

Maybe: Pike: hey, it’s Pike :)

You: hey… dammit, I really want to call you Agent Pancakes, but I think my fluffy little heathen would be offended. I don’t know what to save you in my phone as...

Agent Pancakes: Save me as whatever, I suppose. Not my problem, right?

-

The texts became more frequent. Over the course of three weeks, you’d stay up late talking like teenagers, knowing you need to go to bed but unable to bring yourself to do it.

You learned that his middle name was Mauricio, that his mother wanted him to have at least something a little more Latino in his name. You told him the story of how you’d adopted Pancake as a kitten from a shelter and she woke you up one morning with her claws entwined in a snarl of your hair. He told you about his ex-wife and ex-fiancée, Teresa, and you responded that he deserved something better than that. You can already tell that he’s a good man.

At the end of three weeks, you shot Marcus a text. Things seemed to be going pretty well.

You: Hey, you want to do a video call sometime soon?

Agent Pancakes: I’d love that! I’m free tonight if you are.

You: Always free. Shouldn’t you know that?? Doesn’t the FBI spy on us through our phones and whatever?

Agent Pancakes: well, I do work in art crimes. Even if we did, it would be a totally different thing

You: Good.

An hour later, you fidget with your hands as you sit on your couch, the laptop propped up across from you and ringing for a video chat. Marcus’s profile picture bobs on the screen as you wait for him to pick up.

Marcus’s face and apartment fills your screen, and you automatically grin. “Hi,” you giggle and wave, absolutely enraptured by how cute his real smile is, not the forced one in the photos.

“Hey. Nice to kind of-finally meet you,” he tells you and waves back. The wall of his apartment is nothing exciting, but his facial expressions already have you falling. Those big brown eyes compliment natural but ridiculously pink lips, and his brown hair is neatly done. It looks like he’s wearing a tie and a dress shirt; probably his work gear, you suppose.

“You too!” You tell him, unable to stop smiling. “You shaved.”

-

Marcus’s heart jumps out of his chest when he sees you ringing him. He barely has time to flop on the couch and turn it on, propping up the camera across from him.

God, you’re so gorgeous. Your giggle is infectious, making Marcus laugh softly at god knows what. Your grin is equally as contagious, making him smile back. He rubs his jaw in response. “Yeah, yeah. I tend to keep it clean there. Stubble takes too much maintenance, and I have this little patch where it never quite grows,” he tells you as he juts his chin to the camera, touching the spot where his beard can’t grow.

“I like it either way,” you assure him, shrugging a little. “How was your day, Agent Pancakes?” Your voice is the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard, even with the granulated audio over this shitty app. Agent Pancakes makes his heart flutter. “No, not you!” You groan as Pancake climbs onto your lap. “Hi. Your twin wants to say hi.”

Marcus’s smile widens. “Oh my god, hello cutie pie,” he chuckles, launching into baby talk. “What a pretty girl. You make a good Pancake.”

You smile and rub her fur, grinning. “She’s my baby,” you chuckle and set her aside. “Yeah. I’m busy. Leave me alone.” Pancake meows in protest. “Shut up, I’m on a date,” you whine.

Marcus’s ears perk up. “This is a date?”

Your eyes widen as you turn back to him. “I… yeah?” You ask, wincing a little.

He grins back at you. “I like it. And I’m really in love with the idea of seeing your face when you talk.”

“I like your voice,” you flirt back, but you mean it. “It’s so pretty. Do you sing?” You ask mindlessly, studying the way his brow furrows and his eyes convey exactly what he’s thinking.

He chuckles softly. “I used to. I haven’t in a long long time.”

“You’ll have to sing for me sometime.”

When he shakes his head, his neatly gelled hair tries to break free. A strand does, falling in his face. “You don’t wanna hear it, I promise.” He removes his tie, and you can’t help but watch the movement. It’s incredibly sexy.

A mischievous smile makes you bite the inside of your cheek. “No, I really do, I really think I do.”

Marcus rolls his eyes. “Only if you try the pancakes at Sandy’s sometime. I promise you, they’re the best pancakes in the District. I’ve never had the chocolate chip pancakes, but if they’re anywhere near as good as the blueberry, they’re fantastic. And they’re open 24 hours. I go there a lot for late night case work.”

You smile at that, getting cozy on your couch and hugging your blanket. “That does sound nice. I love a good all day breakfast,” you say with raised eyebrows, the teasing in your voice. “Okay, human Pancakes. How was your day?” You ask him again, intent on hearing his answer. Not only is his job fascinating, but he’s adorable when he explains things.

Marcus frowns, and that makes you instinctively frown too. “Well, it’s been good. We’re tracking a huge smuggling ring right now, but since we’ve pinpointed a stock house for them, I might have to travel for a while.”

You frown. You’d been hoping you could have a real date soon, at least. “How long is a while?” You ask him curiously, sipping from your water bottle that sits next to you.

“Couple weeks. No less than a month, probably. I’d… well, I might have to go undercover, which means we couldn’t talk for a while.” His eyes are apologetic, showing that he hates this news as much as you do. “And… I’d leave maybe tomorrow or the day after.”

Your heart sinks. “So soon,” you say with a sad smile, a desperate and lonely chuckle. “Well, if you want to come home to me, I’ll be here.”

Marcus’s smile perks up just slightly. “You would be the best thing in the world to come home to. And I’ll have the scruff back by then.”

“Yes!” You exclaim and laugh, pumping a fist in the air. “I think you’re really cute anyway, but I really love the scruff,” you shrug shyly.

“Maybe I’ll grow it out just for you.”

-

The adrenaline from his first technical-date with you prevents Marcus from sleeping. The call lasted hours, the two of you covering almost everything important in your lives. You talked about your favorite television programs and politics, your parents and your favorite pizza toppings. Talking with him was like nothing you’d ever experience, a connection you’d never thought a dating app could offer.

After several hours, during a lull in the conversation, Marcus suggested the two of you log off. It was around 11 P.M. now, and, even though Marcus has a sleep schedule like a raccoon, he figured you should sleep. He blew you a kiss through the camera, which you pretended to hold to your chest and grin at him.

But now it’s an hour later, just past midnight, and Marcus is antsy. He doesn’t sleep much anyway, but your face is running through his mind like it owns the place, and at this point, maybe you do. Marcus sits up in bed and sighs. He knows the proper remedy for this: Sandy’s. Throwing on a rare pair of jeans and a leather jacket over the white v-neck he wears, he slips on his shoes and makes his way to the tiny, 24-hour diner.

-

The adrenaline is coursing through your veins too. You text any of your friends that will listen, rambling about how beautiful Marcus’s face is and how wonderful it was to finally hear his voice. You pace your apartment, petting Pancake as you pass her perch on the arm of your couch. You try to do a little yoga to calm down but you can’t stop smiling. Marcus occupies too much room in your brain to try to think about anything else.

When it’s just after midnight, hunger strikes. You realize you never ate dinner, too preoccupied with talking to the handsome man to even consider microwaving something from your fridge. Talking with Marcus has instilled you with a love for pancakes, and you think to yourself that maybe Sandy’s would be worth a shot. It’s open late.

So you toss on a jacket and pick up your purse, slinging it over your shoulder and leaving your apartment. You toss the book you’ve been reading into your bag, planning to read it while you sit and eat. Pancake gives a sleepy meow of protest but you just smile and lock the door behind you.

The diner is just as small as Marcus described it to you: just a short line of booths along the windows and a smattering of tables in the middle. There’s a colorful, warm-toned tile floor that juxtaposes the warm green of the walls and the smell of fresh coffee and pancakes wafting through the air. Quiet classic swing music filling the atmosphere. You can see why he likes it: it automatically makes you smile.

You sit in one of the booths, facing away from the door, and the kind waitress takes your order: chocolate chip pancakes and an English breakfast tea. The air conditioning is blasting, making you chilly. You tighten your jacket around yourself and sip the tea when it arrives, adding cream and sugar.

Cracking open the book, you cross your legs and lose yourself in the book. The restaurant has a calming aura, and you can feel the tea warming you from the inside. It’s fitting that Marcus loves this place, you think to yourself.

When the pancakes come not long after, you take a bite and almost groan in happiness. It’s absolutely delicious: Marcus was most definitely right. Disappointingly, you have to go to the bathroom about three bites in.

Even the bathrooms are cute, you discover. When you return, someone else sits a booth away,  another lone diner at this godforsaken hour of night, facing the door. You can see the back of what appears to be a man’s head, neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown leather jacket over their neck and shoulders. Sitting back down, your back to the other customer’s, you return to your book and continue to eat your chocolate chip pancakes.

The customer and waitress are talking, but you don’t pay much attention, too enraptured by your book. It’s quiet again after the man puts in his order, and you enjoy the soft jazz music that makes you tap your foot in time against the tile.

There’s a buzzing and the melodic sound of a phone’s ringtone; one of the defaults that a phone provides. Your heart skips a beat as you hear the man pick up. “Agent Pike.”

That can’t be your Agent Pike, can it? You turn and listen and realize it’s definitely him, from his voice and the way he holds himself and the stack of- of course, blueberry pancakes and a hot coffee set in front of him.

“Yeah. Yeah. Okay. Sounds good. Let me write that down.” Marcus types something into his phone. “See you then. At the office? Good. Alright, see you.” He hangs up.

Standing, you tuck your book back in your purse and put the bag over your shoulder. With one hand, you grab your plate of pancakes, and the other grabs your tea. You set them down across from him and slide into the booth, grinning. “Huh. Agent Pancakes, here, in the middle of the night. How unusual.”

Marcus’s tired face lights up in excitement. “What?” He laughs, his eyes scanning your face. “Why are you here?”

You shrug and take a bite of his pancakes, sighing. “Had to see if they were worth the hype. I couldn’t sleep, you got me so excited.” The blueberry pancakes are absolutely fantastic, just as good if not better than the chocolate chip ones on your plate. “Damn, you were right.”

“Hey,” he laughs and pulls his plate closer to his chest. “Don’t touch my pancakes.”

You make pleading pouty eyes, frowning a little. “Can’t we share?” You tease. It already feels like you’ve known him for years, even though this is your first time seeing him in person.

Marcus sighs. “I suppose,” he says and rolls his eyes in sarcasm, pushing his plate back out so you can access it.

-

Marcus is beyond stunned, absolutely enraptured in how beautiful you are in person. If he thought he fell on that video call earlier, he’s now reached the very bottom of that cliff, the impact of your everything stealing the air from his lungs. God, he wants nothing more than to kiss you right now, on those lips coated in blueberry juice and maple syrup.

The two of you spend quite some time so there, just talking and continuing the conversation where it left off before. The waitress refills Marcus’s coffee twice and your tea once. “So who called you when you were sitting alone?” You ask him as you bring the white porcelain mug to your lips, sipping at the creamy tea.

He sighs. “Guy I work with, his name’s Patrick. He’s a douchebag, I can’t lie,” he says with a chuckle, and his heart flutters at the way you give a soft laugh back. “Just telling me the details. I leave in about 6 hours. I’ll be in Singapore for a couple of weeks.”

“Singapore?” You exclaim, eyes wide as your fork clanks against your plate. “You better be able to contact me.”

He shakes his head. “I told you, I’m going undercover. I can’t.” He sighs, and he dares to reach out and touch you, to reassure you that he’s there and himself that you’re real, that you’re right there. “Will you wait for me?”

Your heart melts, from an already slush-covered river to a rushing rapids. “Of course, Marcus.” It makes his heart skip a beat. You’ve called him lots of nicknames, but never his real name. Something is painfully intimate about it. “I like you a lot; why wouldn’t I?” You ask, shrugging as if it’s the simplest thing. “Distance makes the heart grow fonder.”

When you finish your meals, Marcus picks up both tabs, despite your protesting. “Can I walk you to your place?” He asks as you both stand and adjust your jackets.

You nod and take his hand. The lights of the city are seemingly extra dim tonight, leaving the street lights to illuminate your beautiful face as the two of you stroll along. You have all the time in the world, don’t you? It’s 1:30 in the morning. You’re both already evading sleep desperately. A little more time together can’t hurt.

His hand never leaves yours, his fingers lacing through your knuckles. You chat quietly, as if you could wake the sleeping city from the peaceful blue drone of a weeknight morning into its daily splendor of horns and hordes of speedy pedestrians.

Marcus bumps your shoulder with his, making you stumble a little to the side and laugh as you look up at his gorgeous face. His face reflects the love you’re both feeling, almost giving the city around you a pink glaze of warmth from the rose-colored glasses you must have placed over his eyes.

The walk draws to an end, as you stand at the entrance to your apartment building. Marcus’s body looks so soft and inviting, and you dare to wrap your arms around his neck and hug him to your chest. “I don’t want you to go, Agent Pancakes,” you murmur into the soft skin of his neck, which is starting to get a shadow of stubble.

Marcus kisses the top of your head. He doesn’t move either, prolonging this time you have together before he can’t see you. “I don’t want to go. I’ve never wanted to stay here more than I do now, but I have to.” His arms wrap around your waist, strong and safe.

Lifting your head, you look up at him, your noses practically touching from the proximity you share. The world feels like a bubble around you two, like some impenetrable one-way material that makes it so if Marcus leaves now, he can never come back. “Well, it’s gonna be a long time, a month or two,” you say with a sad smile. “We’ll have to begin again.”

Marcus shakes his head, his brown eyes almost welling with tears. “There’s no one else I’d want to begin again with.” With that, he looks in your eyes, the question hanging there. Wait for me?

Always, you respond silently by pressing your lips to his, kissing him slowly in the orange glow of your apartment building’s entrance. He kisses back, his lips tasting of coffee and maple and blueberry, yours tasting like chocolate and tea.

You squeeze your arms tighter around him, getting on your tiptoes to be as physically close as you can to him. He has one hand on either side of your rib cage, holding you there as he kisses back with all of the passion and love he has.

It can’t last too long or he’ll never leave. He won’t be able to. He breaks away after a few moments, his lips close to yours. He presses your foreheads together, arms encircling you again. “I have to go. I have to be at the office in an hour.”

You lift your head and your brow furrows in confusion. “Then why did you take so long to walk and eat with me?” You laugh quietly.

Marcus shrugs. “Didn’t want to leave you yet,” he admits, his eyes trained on yours. He gives you one last painfully gentle kiss. “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more,” you say with a sad smile. “You’ve been my distraction lately. Whenever I’m bored, I text you.”

He sighs, the confession increasing his frown. “I’ll be in an entirely new place, without you.”

“But I’ll be here, in my same old life without you in it.”

The words punch a hole through Marcus’s heart. It’s true; he’ll have new distractions, new things to do. You’ll be here with a Marcus Pike-shaped hole in your heart. He kisses your forehead, the wheels turning in his head. “If you get a call in the next few weeks from an unknown number, be sure to answer it, okay?”

You nod and smile softly. “You need to go. Go.”

He nods and his hand squeezes yours. “I can’t wait to begin again with you.” With that, Marcus Pike, Agent Pancakes, whatever you want to call him, the man you’re highly suspecting might be your soulmate, walks off into the slightly chilly D.C. night.

-

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