#like sir that's your department it is your problem

[herobrine4hire]

Love work cause sometimes it's the horrors of why is this not connecting to internet (takes 3 hours) and then thing was slightly unplugged (2 seconds) on the same day

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny always knew tax evasion ran in his veins. His parents hadn’t been the most… morally sound of people, and less so as ecto-scientists.

He just didn’t think their lessons would ever result in a criminal empire that spanned the entire city and then some. Danny hadn’t seen it coming. His parents definitely wouldn’t have.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Wayne. Mr. Fox.”

Danny ‘the Phantom’ Fenton sat down across from a rather tense looking (to Danny’s enhanced senses, anyways) Brucie Wayne and his right hand, Lucius Fox. He smiled pleasantly, matching Brucie’s vacant smile with that touch of Midwest suburban mother smile.

With his acquisition of multiple Gotham companies, his rather newly established Fentom Co. became one of the largest holding companies in Gotham, the first being Wayne Enterprises and the second being Drake Industries. After months of constantly working his butt off while fending off assassins, reforming Gotham’s slums and cleaning up some of the streets, and taking care of his nest of street kids, Danny garnered enough power to even stand close to Wayne Enterprises in terms of financial powers.

The topic of this meeting was, of course, the proposed merger of Wayne Enterprises’ Medical R&D division with Fentom Co.’s pharmaceutical department. Usually, Wayne Enterprises wouldn’t even consider such an offer, as their Medical R&D division was the most well funded and least likely to be part of a Rogue’s scheme- and therefore most beloved- department of the same nature in Gotham. However, Danny had something the other offers didn’t.

Blackmail.

His overly polite smile widened as Bruce’s mask twitched. His eyes slid over to Lucius Fox.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’ve heard much about your genius in… research and development.”

By that, Danny meant that he knew Lucius Fox helped develop Batman’s tech.

He did a lot of stalking that week. It felt rather… invasive, even if he did get a bunch of juicy secrets.

You know what they say: dead men tell no tales… but halfas are generally blabbermouths.

“Is that so? It is a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. Fenton.” The man quickly glanced between the youngsters, accurately predicting that this might have something to do with Bruce’s active nightlife.

“Yes, it is such a pleasure to meet you.”

Wow, Danny didn’t think he’d ever heard anyone sound both so perky and dead inside at the same time, except for Susan at Gotham High’s bake sale.

Bruce wishes he could be a Susan. He’s at best a Becky.

“Will you be staying, Mr. Fox? You’re the head of the R&D department, correct?”

“Ah, yes-”

“Oh, Lucius! I think you had an appointment with the finance department right now! I heard Sally talk about it, you know!”

Lucius Fox sent an unreadable look at Bruce before rallying.

“Oh, it must have slipped my mind. My apologies, Mr. Fenton, it seems as though I can not skip this appointment.”

“That’s alright. I suppose it gives you… plausible deniability… should things go wrong, haha!” Danny allowed his smile to widen a little further than natural. Bruce tensed but Lucius Fox simply politely smiled and left the room.

Ignorance is bliss and all that, Danny amusedly thought.

As the door shut with a click, Bruce dropped the vacant Brucie smile and sighed.

“What do you want,” he gritted out. Danny wasn’t about to let that slide, not after he spent the better part of this month wrangling Bruce’s problem children.

“Ah, it must be because I’m from the Midwest, Brucie, but where I come from, we value these things called manners.”

You uneducated jerk, he doesn’t say.

Danny leaned back in his chair, loosening his smile into something relaxed and sharp.

“…” Oh, boy, Danny could just hear the other man’s blood pressure rising. “What is the purpose of your visit, Mr. Fenton?”

“Relax, Brucie,” Danny sing-songed in a non-relaxing way. “I’m just here to discuss a possible merger that I’m sure you’ll agree to, and give you a couple of updates on your… wayward bird.”

He heard Bruce take a slow, controlled breath. “Very well. Where. Would. You. Like. To. Start.”

Danny ignored the gritted out sentence. He passed a contract to Bruce, who took it like he was handling a live bomb.

“Here’s the proposal, Mr. Wayne. Please, look it over.”

He watched as Bruce looked over the contract with an eagle eye before lowering it, scrutinizing Danny.

“This is… very fair.”

Danny raised an eyebrow. Of course it was fair. Danny wasn’t interested in exploiting the Waynes, despite them being very able to afford it.

He’d brought fifty manufacturing sites for pharmaceuticals, and offered up a building where both companies could send their workers. He provided top notch security- that definitely didn’t have any talons on staff, what were they talking about?- that came from his own security division. Granted, most of them were reformed and trained goons, but hey, creating jobs can only help Gotham’s economy and help break the cycle of poverty, right? Guaranteed by the Wayne name and, most importantly, uncompromised medicine that was accessible to everyone would be a damn good start. He’d also have Penguin’s empire to distribute it to those who couldn’t make it to a clinic or a store, and there were plans in there to work with and establish contracts with Gotham’s welfare department. Well… once Danny finished replacing them with people who wouldn’t try to take a cut of the funds and actually cared about the people. He was thinking… the multitudes of poor grad students and parents that need income. He’s in the process of building childcare centers and��

It’s a good thing he managed to save money from the taxes (thank you, Gotham’s morally ambiguous tax experts that were in desperate need for clients! He could do it himself but having a team of accountants at the ready was seriously so helpful.) because ancients knows the government weren’t about to step into Gotham and help the people here. He needs so much money to pull all of this shit off and a lot of it has to be clean.

Danny inwardly sighed and marked another thing onto his to do list.

Make money laundering fronts.



“Of course, Mr. Wayne. You didn’t think I’d come in here demanding money, did you?”

“I considered it.”

“I am, in fact, trying to help Gotham. You might not agree with my methods, but I’d rather not damage Wayne Enterprises when it’s doing so much to help the people.”

Ugh, he was doing too much work. Danny just wanted to- hah- chill at home and read bed time stories to his kids.

Bruce Wayne, the specific blend between Brucie and Batman, regarded him silently. Danny felt like he went up a few notches in the respect ladder.

Nice.

“You’re a criminal.”

“Says the man in the bat-suit breaking into places and assaulting people.”

Bruce’s hands spasmed around the contract. Danny smiled at him, taking a sip of the coffee they’d prepared. Oo, nice!

“Ah, I heard you’re adopting- pardon, fostering- Tim Drake. Getting empty nest syndrome, Brucie?” He slipped back into using Bruce’s first name. The proposal was formal. This… was very much not.

“What about it?”

“That’s very kind of you. Speaking of which, well, of your birds, I was wondering if you remembered what I asked you to do.” Danny continued, not giving Bruce a chance to reply. “Didn’t I ask for you to keep your birds in line, Brucie?”

The CEO straightened even further, form filling out to be Batman’s imposing figure. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know where your charge is, right now? No, not the formerly dead one,” Danny tilted his head, smile shrinking.

“Don’t you dare do anything to Tim. I swear, if you even lay a hand on a strand of his hair, I’ll-”

“Sit your Armani clad ass down, Bruce.” Danny snapped. “Your son’s in your office. I don’t harm children, and your assumptions are deeply insulting. Threaten me again, Bruce, and I’ll make sure you know exactly how much I know about your birds, your cousin, and the commissioner’s daughter.”

Bruce snarled but leashed his anger just enough to sit back down. He itched to go check on Tim, but leaving a threat like Phantom unwatched felt inherently wrong.

“Your other son,” Danny continued. “Is doing quite well. He’s learning that he has hobbies again. He’s actually working under me, you know.”

“He’s what.”

Oh, yeah, that tracks. It figured that Jason wouldn’t tell Bruce about anything. He’s still conflicted about his death. Danny got it.

“Ah, that’s precious information. You’ll have to offer something of equal value if you want to know. There is, on the other hand, a piece of information I’ll give you for free.”

Danny paused for the dramatic effect. It was lost on Bruce, the ultimate drama queen of this world.

“The League of Assassins are hanging around Hotham lately. It’s getting tedious, getting rid of them. I suggest talking to your old flame, you know, with words and what little communication skill you’ve got rattling around in your noggin to get them to pull back. Her interest is… unnaturally focused on Jason.”

Danny read the dark agreement swimming about Bruce’s face and inclined his head. “Should negotiations fail, rest assured that Jason will be protected.”

“…Thank you.”

“You are most welcome. Go ahead and discuss the contract with Mr. Fox, I am sure you’ll find little problems with it. Ah,” Danny stood up, fixing his suit jacket. “And you should probably check up on Timothy. He’s probably having a great time in your office, Mr. Wayne.”

“I’ll see you out.”

“Of course.”

Having Batman escorting him out should probably be more intimidating.

Danny stood in the elevator, waiting for Bruce’s contemplative silence to put itself into words.

Sure enough, “What… what kind of hobbies does Jason have now?”

“I’d tell you to ask him, but you two aren’t on speaking terms, are you? He likes books, of course, but recently, he’s found an interest in glass blowing. He made quite a bit of progress on his attempts at sun catchers.”

“I see.”

Well, Danny’s not about to step on that landmine any more than he has to.

——

“Danny.”

“Oh, hey, Jason. Sit down, we were about to have dinner.”

Jason clambered into the window. Danny sighed. He had a door, but by the way Jason never used it, it was like the door didn’t exist.

“Mind telling me why the old bastard showed up on my rooftops with a bunch of glass and glassblowing tools?”

Danny smiled. “No idea.”

“Uh huh.”

Danny placed a hand on his chest and put on his best woe-is-me expression. The teen’s face twitched in annoyance. “Doubt? At me? Why, I never!”

A bread roll thwacked him in the face.

[m4rv3l-girl]

Vanilla

Bucky x Y/N

Bucky overhears Y/N talking to Nat about her unfulfilled desires…

Requests Open!

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Oral (f!receiving). P in v sex. Slight Sir kink. All after the red division —————-

The soft afternoon set in around the compound, casting warm shadows in the living room where you and Bucky often spent lazy afternoons together.

Today, however, he was out training with Steve, and you found solace in the quiet as you prepared a small snack in the kitchen. You were humming softly to yourself, the sound of your movements blending with the faint echoes of clanking weights coming from outside.

Just as you were about to pour yourself a cup of tea, Natasha entered, her hair pulled back in a tight bun, a knowing smile on her lips. “Hey, Y/N!” she called out, crossing the room with a confident stride.

“Hey, Nat!” you replied, your heart lifting at her presence. “Want some tea?”

“Sure!” she said, leaning against the counter, her gaze curious.

“So, how’s it going with Bucky..?”

You felt a slight blush rise to your cheeks, a smile breaking across your face. This was your favorite question - because life with Bucky was just incredible. “It’s great! I mean, he’s just... he’s amazing.” The warmth of your feelings was palpable, and you couldn’t help but beam as you spoke about him.

Natasha chuckled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I can tell you’re smitten. What’s he been up to?”

“Oh, you know, just the usual. Training, trying to get better at the whole ‘normal life’ thing. He’s been really sweet lately.”

You absentmindedly stirred your tea, remembering the little things he did—like the way he always made sure you had your favorite snacks or how he would leave little notes around the house.

“Sweet, huh?” Natasha teased. “What about in the other department?”

You paused, biting your lip. Nat was never bashful.

The question made your heart race. “Well, it’s great, it is... but I guess I have some... unfulfilled desires,” you admitted shyly, your voice dropping as you glanced away.

Natasha raised an eyebrow, leaning in as if she were about to divulge a juicy secret. “Like what?”

You hesitated, a nervous flutter in your stomach. “You know, maybe trying something a little less... vanilla.” The words slipped out, and you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you.

Natasha smirked, leaning closer with a conspiratorial tone. “No, I get it. You want to spice things up a little?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I just think we could do something more…”

“Kinky?” She stated.

You felt the itch of blood rushing to your face.

“I understand that, it took me and Bruce a while to get into the swing of something more interesting. He was always scared he’d break me. Think that Bucky’s problem?”

Before you could reply, a heavy footfall sounded from the hallway, and the door swung open. Bucky stepped into the room, glancing between the two of you.

“What’s going on in here?” he asked, his brow furrowing slightly, the playfulness in his voice tinged with curiosity.

You quickly straightened up, forcing a smile. “Oh, we were just talking about... nothing much!”

Bucky looked from you to Natasha, his instincts picking up on the slight tension in the air. “Right. Well, I’ll just go grab a drink.” He turned, his expression unreadable as he walked away.

Natasha’s gaze lingered on you for a moment, her teasing smile replaced by something softer. “You should talk to him, you know. Communication is key,” she said gently before leaving you alone in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of what you had just shared hanging in the air. What would he say if you brought it up? Would he be upset? You hoped he wouldn’t take it the wrong way. He was perfect in so many ways, but you longed for a deeper connection, a chance to explore more together.

——————————————————————————————————

Later on, you and Bucky were sitting together on the couch, watching something neither of you were watching.

“Everything okay?” you asked one evening as you curled up next to him on the couch, your fingers tracing patterns on his arm.

He looked down at you, a slight frown crossing his face.

“Yeah, of course, sweetheart,” he replied, but the hesitation in his voice made you worry.

“Are you sure? You seem a little... off.” You shifted, trying to catch his gaze, but he looked away, focusing on the television instead.

“I’m just... thinking about stuff,” he said, his tone evasive.

You wanted to press him further, to ask about that day with Natasha, but something held you back. Instead, you settled for resting your head on his shoulder, hoping he would open up when he was ready.

——————————————————————————————————

As the days passed, Bucky started to show subtle signs of change.

He began cooking more elaborate meals, experimenting with spices and flavors, making an effort to make each dinner an occasion. You found yourself laughing and teasing him about his newfound culinary skills, and it felt like old times when the air was light and carefree.

One night, after a particularly delightful dinner, you found yourself sitting on the counter, your legs swinging as Bucky cleaned up the dishes. You watched him with admiration, noticing the way his muscles flexed as he scrubbed the plates, lost in thought.

“Want some help?” you offered, swinging your legs over the edge.

“Nope, I got this, darling,” he replied, flashing you a smile that made your heart skip. “Just enjoy your time, Kitten.”

But as he continued washing the dishes, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was still bothering him. “You’ve been acting a little different lately,” you ventured, trying to keep your tone light.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at you. “Different how?”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I don’t know. Just... more serious, I guess. Is everything okay?”

Bucky set down the dish he was cleaning and turned to face you fully, the light reflecting in his blue eyes. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Just... trying to think about what you said the other day.”

Your heart raced at his words, hope mingling with anxiety. “What do you mean?”

He stepped closer, the space between you charged with unspoken words. “About wanting more than just the usual, you know?”You swallowed hard, feeling your cheeks heat.

“Bucky, I didn’t mean to—”He interrupted, his expression softening.

“No, it’s okay. I’ve been thinking about it a lot. And I want to make sure you’re happy, that you feel fulfilled.”

A wave of warmth washed over you, but your nerves fluttered. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Bucky. I just—”

“No, I want to,” he said firmly, stepping closer until your legs brushed against his. “I just didn’t know if that was something you really wanted.”

Your heart pounded as you looked into his eyes, the sincerity of his words warming you from the inside out. “I do. I just want to explore... things together.”

Bucky took a deep breath, his gaze intense. “Then let’s do it. I want to make it special for you.”

The promise in his voice sent butterflies dancing in your stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves flooding your senses. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. “I’d love that.”

Bucky's hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin. The tenderness of the gesture made your breath catch. 

"Tell me what you want," he murmured, his voice low and husky. "I want to hear you say it."

You felt a rush of heat flood your body at his words. Your tongue darted out to wet your suddenly dry lips. "I... I want you to take control," you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. "To push my boundaries a little."

His eyes darkened at your confession, pupils dilating with desire. "Are you sure?" he asked, his tone serious despite the obvious want in his gaze.

You nodded, feeling both nervous and exhilarated. "Yes. I trust you, Bucky."

A slow smile spread across his face, equal parts tender and wicked. "Alright, doll. Let's start slow." His metal hand slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him. "First rule - you do exactly as I say. Understood?"

A shiver ran down your spine at the commanding tone in his voice. "Yes," you breathed.

"Yes, what?" he prompted, eyebrow raised.

You swallowed hard, realizing what he wanted. "Yes... sir."

Bucky's eyes flashed with approval. "Good girl," he purred, the praise sending a jolt of pleasure through you. "Now, I want you to keep your hands at your sides. Don't move them unless I tell you to."

You nodded, heart racing as he slowly began unbuttoning your shirt. His fingers brushed against your skin with each movement, leaving trails of fire in their wake. When he reached the last button, he pushed the fabric open, exposing

your lace-covered breasts to his hungry gaze. Your nipples hardened instantly under his scrutiny, straining against the delicate fabric.

"Beautiful," Bucky murmured, his flesh hand skimming along your collarbone. "I've always loved this bra on you."

You fought the urge to arch into his touch, remembering his command to keep still. The effort it took sent a thrill through you.

"Thank you, sir," you whispered, your voice breathy with desire.

Bucky's eyes met yours, a mix of lust and tenderness in their blue depths. "You're doing so well already, doll. Now, I want you to close your eyes."

You obeyed instantly, darkness enveloping you as your other senses heightened. You could hear Bucky's steady breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body so close

to yours. The anticipation was almost unbearable as you waited for his next move.

Suddenly, you felt the cool metal of his left hand tracing along your jawline, down your neck, across your collarbone. The contrast between the chill of the vibranium and the warmth of your flushed skin made you gasp softly.

"Shh," Bucky murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "Remember, no moving unless I say so and be quiet, Kitten"

You bit your lip, fighting to stay still as his metal fingers danced along the edge of your bra, teasing but not quite touching where you desperately wanted him to.

His flesh hand came up to cup your other breast, kneading gently through the lace. A whimper escaped your throat at the dual sensations.

"That's it, doll," Bucky praised, his voice rough with desire. "You're doing so well for me."

His metal thumb brushed over your nipple through the thin fabric, causing it to harden instantly. You arched your back slightly, craving more contact, but Bucky tsked softly.

"What did I say about moving?" he reminded you, withdrawing his hands. The loss of his touch was agonizing.

"I'm sorry," you breathed. "Please, Sir. I need you."

He chuckled low in his throat. "I know you do, sweetheart. And you'll have me. But only when I decide you're ready."

His flesh hand slid down your stomach, fingers playing with the waistband of your panties. Your thighs trembled with the effort of keeping still as he teased you mercilessly.

"Tell me what you want," Bucky commanded, his voice husky.

Your breath caught in your throat as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. Bucky's touch was electrifying, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"I... I want you to touch me," you managed to whisper, your voice trembling with need. "Everywhere."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire as he slowly slid your panties down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze. His metal hand trailed up your inner thigh, the cool touch making you shiver with anticipation.

"Like this?" he asked, his fingers ghosting over your most sensitive areas, barely making contact.

You whimpered, fighting the urge to buck your hips. "More, please," you begged.

Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone.

Bucky leaned down, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he placed open-mouthed kisses along your collarbone. His metal hand continued its teasing exploration between your thighs, while his flesh hand cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple.

"Tell me exactly what you want me to do," he murmured against your skin. "I want to hear you say it."

Your cheeks flushed with a mix of arousal and shyness, but you forced yourself to vocalize your desires. "I want... I want your fingers in me," you breathed. "And your mouth here..."

A low growl rumbled in Bucky's chest as he obliged, sliding two cool metal fingers into your slick heat while his lips closed around your nipple. You gasped at the dual sensations, your back arching involuntarily.

Bucky's metal fingers curled inside you, finding that spot that made you see stars.

His tongue swirled around your nipple as he sucked gently, sending hard rushes of pleasure through your body. You moaned, struggling to keep still as he'd commanded.

"That's it, doll," he murmured against your breast. "Let me hear how good it feels."

His thumb found your clit, circling it with just the right pressure. You cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as you fought the urge to grind against his hand.

"Sir, please," you whimpered. "I need more."

He lifted his head, his blue eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me."

You swallowed hard, gathering your courage. "I want... I want your mouth on me. Down here."

Bucky's eyes flashed with hunger at your words. "Is that so?" he murmured, trailing kisses down your stomach. "I think I can arrange that."

He settled between your thighs, his warm breath teasing your sensitive flesh. You trembled in anticipation as he placed soft kisses along your inner thighs, purposefully avoiding where you needed him most.

"Bucky," you whined, desperate for his touch.

He chuckled, the vibration sending shivers through you. "Patience, doll. I'm going to take my time with you."

Finally, his tongue flattened against your core, licking a long, slow stripe.

You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily.

Bucky's metal arm draped over your pelvis, holding you in place as he continued his ministrations. His tongue circled your clit before sucking, your hips bucking involuntarily. Bucky's metal arm draped across your lower abdomen, holding you in place as he explored you with his mouth. His talented tongue swirled around your clit before dipping lower, tasting your arousal.

You moaned loudly, forgetting his earlier command for silence in your pleasure.

Bucky paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of amusement and stern reproach in his eyes. "What did I say about staying quiet, doll?" he murmured, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh.

You bit your lip, breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "Please don't stop."

He smirked, trailing his flesh hand up your inner thigh. "I suppose I can forgive you this time," he said, his voice low and husky. "But you'll have to work harder to stay silent."

Without warning, he plunged another 2 fingers inside you, curling them expertly as his mouth returned to your clit. The sparks of euphoria were overwhelming, and you had to clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure. Bucky worked you relentlessly, his fingers pumping in and out while his tongue flicked and swirled. You writhed beneath him, desperate for release yet fighting to stay quiet. Your free hand tangled in his hair, urging him closer.

He growled against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You could feel the pressure building, your thighs trembling as you neared the edge. Bucky sensed your impending climax and redoubled his efforts, curling his fingers to hit that perfect spot inside you while sucking hard on your clit.

Your body tensed as waves of ecstasy crashed over you.

You bit down hard on your lip, tasting blood as you fought to remain silent. Your back arched off the bed as your orgasm ripped through you, vision going white at the edges. Bucky didn't let up, working you through every aftershock until you were a quivering, oversensitive mess beneath him.

Finally, he lifted his head, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and heaving chest. He crawled up your body, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he explored your mouth.

"Good girl," he murmured against your lips. "You did so well staying quiet for me."

His erection pressed insistently against your thigh, reminding you that he was far from finished with you. Bucky trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. His metal hand cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple and drawing a soft gasp from your lips.

"Think you can stay quiet for what comes next, doll?" he murmured against your collarbone, his voice rough with desire.

You nodded eagerly, beyond words as anticipation coursed through you. Bucky chuckled darkly, positioning himself between your thighs. He rubbed the tip of his cock along your folds, teasing you mercilessly. Your hips bucked, seeking more contact, but his hands gripped your waist firmly.

"Ah ah," he tsked. "Patience, remember?"

You whimpered softly, desperate for him to fill you.

Bucky's eyes locked with yours, dark with lust, as he slowly pushed inside. Your breath caught in your throat as he stretched you, the delicious burn of his thick length making your toes curl. He paused when fully sheathed, giving you a moment to adjust.

"So tight for me, doll," he groaned, his jaw clenched with the effort of holding still.

You clenched around him experimentally, drawing a sharp hiss from his lips. Taking that as his cue, Bucky began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts that had you seeing stars. Your hands roamed his broad back, feeling the muscles flex beneath your fingertips as he drove into you.

Gradually, his pace increased. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin and your muffled whimpers.

Bucky's pace increased, driving into you with powerful strokes. The old couch creaked beneath you as he pounded relentlessly, hitting that perfect spot deep inside with each thrust. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your cries of pleasure against his skin.

His metal hand gripped your hip, the cool plates a stark contrast to your feverish skin. The other tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to expose your throat. Bucky's lips latched onto your pulse point, sucking and biting as he marked you as his.

"Say you’re mine," he growled, his voice rough with exertion and desire. "Say it."

"Yours," you gasped out, teetering on the edge of orgasm. "I'm yours, Bucky."

He groaned at your words, his hips snapping faster. "That's right, Kitten. All mine…Fuck-" Bucky growled, his thrusts becoming more erratic. "Come for me again. Let me feel you."

His words pushed you over the edge. Your back arched as waves of pleasure crashed over you, the corners of your vision going white as your second orgasm came faster than the first had. You bit down on Bucky's shoulder, your walls clenching around him.

Bucky groaned at the sensation, his hips stuttering as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, spilling himself with a low moan of your name.

You both lay there for a moment, breathing heavily as you came down from your highs. Bucky's weight pressed you into the arm of the couch, his face buried in your neck as he placed soft kisses along your collarbone.

“Still too vanilla, Princess?” He muttered.

“I…”

“Maybe next time I’ll get the rope out.” Bucky deadpanned.

——————————————————————————————————-

So, what do you think? Should Bucky get the rope out? 🤔

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae I love your Spencer and intern reader fics they’re my sweet babes and I keep rereading them <3 would you consider writing something where Spencer defends her work and efforts in front of someone in the BAU or an officer/someone else they’re working with like maybe after they speak down to her? ilyilyily

They're my sweet babes too <3 Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: mention of bombing (no death)

Spencer Reid x intern!reader ♡ 1k words

“No. Find me someone else.” 

The voice reaches Spencer from the next room, raised and prickly. He pauses in sorting through crime scene photos to listen. 

Your reply is quieter, difficult to make out. 

“I’m not giving my testimony to an intern!” 

“This isn’t a testimony, sir,” you reply calmly. Spencer can hear it now, because somehow his feet have carried him towards you. He doesn’t stop once he realizes, continuing towards the doorway and the sound of your voice. “We’re not in court, and this isn’t a formal statement. I’m only asking you to tell me about what you saw.” 

“Yeah, and I saw some important shit. Go and get me someone qualified to talk to.” 

“Of course what you saw was important. This interview is to determine—” 

“I don’t give a rat’s ass what you think is important. You don’t know what you’re doing!” 

“Excuse me,” Spencer says, coming up to a stop beside you. “Hi. Is there a problem?” 

You turn to Spencer with a look of relief, and as one, the rest of the onlookers in the packed police station lobby look away, resuming pretending to mind their own business. 

This morning, a bomb went off outside the Department of Commerce offices. Because the incident took place in D.C., the BAU was able to get to the site quicker than most cases, and whereas arriving at a fresh scene is generally a good thing, it has its drawbacks. One being that the dozens of witnesses didn’t have statements taken before Spencer’s team arrived. 

All those witnesses are crammed into one room now, and with the police station in chaos and most of the FBI rushing to figure out if they can expect another attack, the task of questioning has fallen to you and a few other officers. You’re mostly trying to shrink the pool. In the aftermath of an attack like this, many witnesses have a tendency to conjure images. Sometimes, the brain processes trauma by recollecting things that didn’t truly happen; sometimes, people recount things that they think will get them on the evening news. As you go down the line, you’re making note of witnesses who seem to have plausible, relevant information, and those are the ones being brought in for cognitives by the rest of the team.

Evidently, you’re getting some resistance. 

“Yeah,” says the man you’re talking to. He’s broad and in an ill-fitting suit that makes Spencer think he likes to appear more important than he is. “I want to give my testimony to someone with a badge.” 

“As she explained, it’s not a testimony,” Spencer says evenly. “Do you have a badge?” 

The man’s eyebrows draw together. “No,” he says, an invisible question mark at the end. 

“Then what do you think makes you qualified to determine who gives interviews?” 

The man makes a sound like he’s choking. Before he can speak, Spencer continues, just loud enough for the rest of the eavesdropping room to hear. 

“Miss L/N is an intern with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI. She has studied this case and many others before it as thoroughly as anyone else on our team, and she is more than qualified to take your statement. Excuse us a moment, please.” 

You turn gladly into Spencer’s hand on your shoulder, allowing him to guide you from the room. Your posture slumps as soon as you’re out of sight. You’ve been keeping up a collected and professional facade, but you have to be tired after talking to witnesses all morning. Spencer passes you a water bottle as you sit down at the desk he’s been using. The way you gulp from it lends credence to his theory. 

“Your throat must be sore,” he says. 

You shrug, reluctant as always to complain. “There’s more talking in interviews than I would have expected,” you admit. “I thought it’d be all listening.” 

“Yeah, sometimes witnesses need some prompting. You’re doing great, though. Have there been many like that?” 

You swallow and let out a tired breath. “Not many. It’s, you know, lots of bureaucrats.” Your tone takes on a tinge of irreverence. A smile tugs at Spencer’s lips. Sometimes, it feels like you’re still brand new, but others your time with the FBI is obvious; bureaucracy is almost a dirty word in the bureau. “They all think they’re the most important person there. But really, it hasn’t been so bad. You saw the worst of it.” 

“Yeah.” Spencer studies you, taking in the terse set of your brows, the defeated line of your mouth. “That guy was pretty pugnacious.” 

Your eyes flicker up to Spencer’s, lips twitching at something he doesn’t understand. He understands that he’d like to make it happen again. 

“He was,” you agree. “He didn’t ask you for your credentials.” 

There’s a tinge of bitterness to your tone that Spencer doesn’t think you mean to reveal. He wouldn’t begrudge you it. He noticed the same thing. 

“Sometimes, JJ and Emily have a harder time with witnesses, too,” he tells you. “If it makes you feel any better, it probably doesn’t have anything to do with you not being an agent.” 

“No, it’s only something that will follow me through my career even after I do get credentials.” Your tone is wry, but there’s a little smile on your lips. And, Spencer can’t help but note, it’s the first time he’s heard you talk about your future with the BAU with such certainty. 

Still, he doesn’t know what to say to that. There are no easy placations or reassurances, at least none that would be true. So Spencer chooses silence, and as usual you let him. Your eyes criss-cross over his face like you’re doing more than studying. Like you’re practicing reading him the way he reads you, but something more than that too. It’s exhilarating to remember that there are things about you Spencer still doesn’t have figured out. 

After a minute, you say, “I should get back in there.” 

Spencer nods, begrudging. “Do you still want to interview that last one? I can take him, if you want.” 

“No, thanks.” You stand and toss the water bottle into the recycling, smiling with renewed vigor. “I’d rather make him sit through it.” 

Spencer can’t help but return your smile as you turn to go.

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ REQUIESCAT IN PACE ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. the dead deserve their happy endings.

CHARACTERS. dainsleif, tartaglia, zhongli

CONTENT. gn!reader. afterlife au. angst. 1.8k wc. rewrite of requiescat in pace at my old main blog @/verxsyon. everyone dies and ascends to a higher plane of existence. fan interpretation of snezhnaya and celestia arc. allusions to war, so expect blood and death. tartaglia and reader adopted children together in the afterlife. dainsleif killed reader from the curse. reader is killed by their spouse (zhongli). petnames (my dear, darling - zhongli).

VERA. it’s been three years since this fic was posted. crazy how time flies. i remember crying when i wrote this. hopefully i’ll make you all suffer as well hahaha.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. DAINSLEIF

five hundred years ago is when dainsleif committed the gravest mistake of his life. he was the twilight sword, a royal guard sworn to protect the people and the royalties of khaenri’ah. his people placed their trust in him to stop the destruction of the nation, only to watch them turn into monsters from the curse laid upon them.

the castle he enters with the traveler and paimon holds many memories he wishes to forget. it was occupied by the eclipse dynasty, the ruler of khaenri’ah before its destruction. he was well acquainted with the heir at the time: you, and soon fell in love. he passes by your room, where he killed you to stop your transformation. realizing what he had done, he left for them to suffer.

“dainsleif,” the abyss herald sneers. dainsleif is so used to that tone of voice. him and the rest of the abyss, especially its leader, have the right to resent him. the traveler and paimon are not here to back him up as they are looking for the twin, so he must atone his own sins himself.

“do whatever you need to do,” dainsleif says, starry voids emitting from his palms. “i don’t intend to hold back.”

the curse of immortality. how sickening. for five hundred years, he has wandered aimlessly for information about his nation. regardless of the amount he has gathered, he wants to end his journey here. he trusts the traveling duo to answer the rest for him.

is death supposed to be this painful? well-deserved for a coward like him. he can sense the satisfaction from the herald destroying him inside his body with hydro. the abyss now has one less problem to deal with. dainsleif can feel himself slipping away, departing the world still a sinner. 

“sir dainsleif. their highness requests your presence.” he is at the castle, decorated with life instead of the dust and cracks when he first arrived. the guard with him possesses no signs of abyssal features. everyone here doesn’t.

behind the double doors is you admiring the plants on the balcony. he gapes at your appearance: the heir of the eclipse dynasty, beautiful and regal as ever. you thank the guard for bringing him over, and they take their leave. this can’t be real.

“my dear dainsleif.” he loses his composure, rushing over to you to pull you into his embrace. your eyes soften upon feeling his sobs on your neck. “my love? are you alright?”

he sniffs, tightening his grip. your touch, your voice, your love for him, he misses them all. “forgive me, your highness. let’s stay like this for a while.”

“i told you to drop the formalities when we’re alone. we’re lovers, aren’t we?” you chuckle, your fingers finding purchase in his blonde locks. oh, how he misses that feeling. “and what are you saying sorry for? we’re all human here. if that makes you feel better, we can stay like this as long as you like.”

dainsleif lifts his head to kiss your knuckles and then presses his lips on yours. he does not know what brought him here, but he is truly grateful. whatever this realm is called, as long as you’re by his side, he will always be forgiven.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA

tartaglia is naive about the future. the desire to protect it influences his decision to serve the tsaritsa. with the mora he earned as a harbinger, he hopes to buy his family a house and send teucer to school. when the war is over, he plans to settle with you and live in a cabin where the two of you ice fish with your children.

if only it was that easy. his family is suffering from financial hardships, and the mora he sends is their savior. as for you, you severed ties with him a long time ago because of moral differences. in fact, you lead the faction that opposes the cryo archon and the fatui as your act of revenge for your family.

the palace is in shambles. the traveler and paimon escort the tsaritsa out of the throne room to allow you and tartaglia to compromise. your mind is not easily swayed as expected, given that you spent most of your life waiting to kill. your fate has been decided, when bloodlust overtook him and made him pierce his weapon through your stomach.

“no!” he cradles your body into his arms. his grief causes his delusion to spiral out of control, bringing the palace to destruction. the traveler and paimon rush back inside the room, yelling at the harbinger to get out of there. but he chooses to stay.

“traveler, can you please do me a favor?” they look at him in shock when he places the tip of their on his chest. “put me out of my misery before i lose control. i want to see my friend again. and when you see my family, tell them i’m sorry for everything.”

swift and painless, exactly how he wants death to feel like. the boulders come crashing down upon you and him, and he blacks out. he wonders if the tsaritsa and the traveler will succeed in preventing the second cataclysm. he wonders how his family will handle the news. teucer will be affected the most, feeling betrayed by his big brother lying that he’ll come home soon.

he wonders about you. if you two ever come to a mutual understanding, will the future be any different?

“papa!” a voice of a child calls, waking him up to a scenery full of snow. he spots a cabin in the distance, where a little girl is waving at him with a proud grin. she runs up to him with a bucket in tow, tripping on lumps of ice along the way.

“papa, look! i caught some fish!” she exclaims, showing him the content of her bucket. a cacophony of high-pitched screams echo. more children spook him by hugging his legs.

“good job, baby. you found papa.” he gasps at the sight of you kissing the girl’s forehead. he can’t believe it. “okay, kids. since papa is here, let’s go home. we’re going to eat fish for dinner.”

“yay!” the kids who seem to be his children happily zoom to the cabin, making you chuckle. tartaglia doesn’t waste any time hugging you tight. he can’t lose you again.

“ajax?” it’s been a while since you called him by his birth name. you cup his cheeks with worry when you see tears streaming down his face. “are you okay?”

he nods, kissing you as if his life depends on it. “i’m okay. shall we go home? we don’t want to keep our kids waiting, do we?”

hand in hand, the two of you follow your children to the cabin. in a future where a war between all creatures of teyvat is over, ajax is finally home.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. ZHONGLI

the past six thousand years have been prolific of brutality. old friends and acquaintances were subjected to erosion, being forced to neutralize them. one is unfortunate enough to perish from the archon war, leading to the creation of liyue harbor.

if there is one thing to take away from her advice, it’s about the concept of change. he is the type of person to slowly adapt into it. her death and the death of the land they both created is not easy to accept. change isn’t a bad thing, she had said. he did not take her words into heart until he met you.

you’re a mortal who lived in a village, you spent more time exploring the outskirts without letting everyone know. you couldn’t care less, having a dream to live in a lively city like liyue. a certain archon would’ve loved you, for you valued freedom. 

he finds you to be quite humorous. once you joked about eloping with the former archon somewhere teeming with fireflies and crystalflies. when he asked you to define the term, you brushed it off and changed the subject. if he knew you weren’t kidding, you wouldn’t have fallen victim to your marriage.

shame, at such a young age too. he regrets not being able to keep you safe, reminding him of his failure with his old friends and the people who are fighting in the second cataclysm by his side. at the climax of the war, he comes face to face with the gods who stirred the calamities around the world for centuries. as much as he wants to stray from violence, he can’t let them win.

“i will no longer stay silent,” he growls, summoning his pillars around incoming enemies. contracts are sacred, no matter who he established them with. breaking any of those would result in facing the wrath of the rock. breaking the one he signed with celestia would mean he would suffer under his own wrath.

gold liquid spills onto the floor, and his ears are blocked by white noise. no, he can’t die like this. not right this instant. his allies haven’t reached an advantage yet. how is it possible for the strongest deity to already fall like this?

six thousand years of changes and sacrifices. the geo element is strong and unmoving, yet it can also crumble. zhongli has to keep on fighting for the sake of his allies and those who have perished, and yours. all he needs to do is take that extra step to victory.

“zhongli?” that voice is familiar. too familiar. he gazes at his swarms of fireflies and crystalflies circling around your figure. your fingers lingers across his cheek with a somber smile. “my dear, you looked troubled in your sleep. do you want to talk about it?”

he leans on your shoulder, inhaling your scent. he’s so tired, enduring six thousand years worth of cycles of life and death among his nation. “hm, i will eventually. but please let me rest first, darling…”

“okay,” you hum, linking your hand with his. “rest well, zhongli. if you need a shoulder to cry on, i will be here. i won’t ever leave your side.”

you tilt his head to kiss him, tasting the salt of his tears on your lips. his allies may be gone and treasured in his memories, you choose to remain by his side and give him relief that he won’t be alone. not anymore.

zhongli is not the same person he was before, and believes he will never be. cradling the finger adorned with the ring crafted from the abundant rocks in liyue, it gives him hope. you are his pillar. when at his lowest, you and your army of lights will guide him back to the surface.

[reiderwriter]

Dirty Cops

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.

Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).

A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~

You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.

Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 

You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.

As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 

"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."

"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 

"Sir, with all due respect -" 

"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 

"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.

"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 

"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 

"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 

A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 

"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 

"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 

"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 

"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 

–X– 

With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 

"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 

Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 

"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 

"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 

"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 

"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 

"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 

"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."

The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 

Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 

"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.

"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 

"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"

"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 

"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.

"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 

"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."

You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.

Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 

"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 

Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 

You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 

"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.

"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 

"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 

"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 

"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 

“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 

Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 

“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”

“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 

–X–

Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 

This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 

“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.

“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 

She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 

“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”

“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 

Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 

“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 

Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 

“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 

She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 

The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 

“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 

You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 

The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 

When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.

"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 

You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 

"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 

You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 

"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 

"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 

"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.

"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 

"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 

Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 

"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 

"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 

The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 

He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 

After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 

"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.

"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 

"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 

"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.

On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 

"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."

"How quaint and Christian of them."

"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 

Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 

"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 

"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 

You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 

"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 

"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 

"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 

"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 

He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 

Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.

"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 

"What?" 

"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."

"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"

"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 

"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 

You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 

"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 

"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"

"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.

"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 

"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 

"What are you insinuating, officer?"

"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.

"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 

You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 

"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 

"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 

"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."

"I'll notify, Hotch." 

"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 

"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."

He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.

–X– 

"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 

It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 

Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 

Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.

Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 

"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 

"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 

"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 

"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 

You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 

He hesitated a moment outside, though.

"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"

"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 

"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 

You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 

You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 

Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.

"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 

"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 

Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 

Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 

"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 

"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 

You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 

"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 

"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.

"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 

"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 

Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 

"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 

In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 

You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 

However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 

"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 

"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 

Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 

"What do you want us to do?" 

"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."

"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 

"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."

Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 

"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.

"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 

You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.

Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 

"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 

You pulled your own out to answer him.

"Let's give him a show then."

The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 

Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.

His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 

You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 

"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 

"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 

You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 

You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 

"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.

"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 

"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 

After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 

"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 

"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."

You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 

"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.

"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 

He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.

You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 

"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 

His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.

Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 

"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.

It was time to catch a killer.

[omgbilly]

☆ dog days ☆

𝕕𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕥𝕤: @lunaridae 

𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕥𝕖𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕦𝕝𝕕𝕟'𝕥 𝕓𝕖 𝕒 𝕕𝕠𝕘 𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: 𝕙𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕚𝕤 𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕥 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤 𝕗𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 𝟚𝕜

You let out an exasperated sigh as you stared at your screen, emails pinging your inbox every minute. You rubbed your eyes, pushing your glasses up through your hair to rest on the top of your head. It had felt like the longest week of your life—every department in Vought was coming down from the highs of the holiday season, with taskers and deadlines due at all hours of the day and night.

Pushing your glasses back down, in a desperate attempt to deter another migraine today, you started clicking through the incessant and continuous barrage of emails in front of you.

Trash. Someone else’s problem. Trash. Junk. I’ll work on that next week—

Your eyes instantly lit up when you saw the only email that mattered.

Reading aloud, you muttered the contents of the message to yourself, “Hey, Team Vought! It’s the first Friday of the month, and you know what that means: another morale event courtesy of the men and women on the 82nd floor to thank you all for your hard work and dedication and blah, blah, blah…a local animal shelter will be coming by during lunch to share some puppy love with our team! They’re here now, so swing on by!”

You all but squealed as you stood up abruptly, grabbing your blazer as you ran out of your cubicle, waving through your fellow low-level employees. You didn’t love your job but you did enjoy these little events they managed to swing all the time. You rolled your eyes as you knew it was how they kept the little guys—like yourself—content with the below-industry-average pay and the little job satisfaction that corporate work was notorious for providing. But, puppy snuggles are puppy snuggles—and it got you away from your desk for a couple of hours with no need to clock out.

You rounded the corner to the elevator and eagerly pressed the descend button. You tapped your foot impatiently, watching the floors count down above the elevator. As the doors opened, you found yourself face to face with the familiar blue suit and star-spangled cape of Vought’s very own poster boy, The Homelander. His stoic face immediately put on that familiar I’m trying too hard smile when you stepped inside.

“Good morning, Homelander!” you chirped, heels clicking on the tiled floor of the elevator.

“Good morning,” he returned politely, a red glove reaching to the panel of buttons in front of him. “Floor?” 

“Oh, um, ground floor,” you smiled, wringing your hands before adding a small “please.”

“Of course,” he nodded, pressing the button. The elevator’s doors closed and began its descent with a small rock. “Heading to lunch?”

You laughed, “No, sir, but I get the next best thing.”

His piercing bright blue eyes fluttered to you, turning curiously to face you with his hands clasped firmly behind his back. “Which is?”

“Dogs! There’s this morale building thing 82 put together for some of the employees,” your smile and excitement radiating from you as your babbling continued, “a local animal shelter is bringing some dogs by during lunch for cuddles!”

He nodded, watching you intently as you brought your manicured hand to your lips to bite nervously at one of your nails. His presence was unnerving, larger-than-life. You’d, of course, seen him around the building but this was your first interaction with the super-abled commercialized celebrity who seemed more brand than person—especially in such close proximity.

“Um,” you continued, proceeding cautiously to fill the awkward silence, “do you like dogs, sir?”

“For the most part,” he answered nonchalantly and equally noncommittally, pleasantly surprised in your genuine interest in him. “It definitely seems like you do. Do you have any at home?”

You hummed, pleased with his response. “I wish…it’s not something I can afford right now but I’ll be satisfied with some snuggles during my lunch break.”

The silence was, yet again, apparent but Homelander was the one to continue the conversation this time. He took a step towards you, hoping to close some of the distance between you before the elevator’s descent concluded.

“What kind of dogs do you like?”

“Oh, easily the big scary-looking ones,” you laughed aloud, curiosity in his interest spurring you on. “German Shepherds, Dobermans, Rottweilers, you know the ones. I’ve found they’re usually the biggest love bugs.”

He wasn’t sure why he cared at all or why he relished in the attention from someone as insignificant as a bottom-rung employee as you but he was intrigued. You weren’t fawning over him and you didn’t appear to be overtly intimidated by him either and that, that, was what got under his skin. For someone so far beneath him, so small, the more he watched you, the more he found himself wanting.

He was about to ask you more about you when the elevator gently lurched to a stop with a small chime, alerting you both that you had reached Vought Tower’s lobby. You exited the elevator with Homelander following closely behind, his broad shoulders cutting through the light, airy corridor of the lobby with the calculated grace of a predator stalking its prey.

“Thanks for letting me talk your ear off,” you laughed, extending your hand. His reached out to shake your hand with a gentle grasp, letting his gloved fingertips linger longer than he knew he should have.

“Any time, but I’ll be joining you. It’s my eleven o’clock appointment, after all."

You walked up the few flights of stairs towards your apartment, pausing briefly to take your heels off and stretch out your aching toes. Long strands of dog hair were sprinkled across your skirt, a small smile finding its way to your lips as you continued up the flight of stairs and through the door, remembering your time with the shelter dogs and Homelander over lunch.

Following a brief photo-op and his signature crock of “you’re the real heroes” spiel, Homelander had stood off to the side watching insignificant people play with equally insignificant creatures but there was something about the way you interacted with the dogs that was…unexpected.

You had eagerly kicked off your high heels and moved quickly to rid yourself of your jacket and blouse to kneel down next to a large German Shepherd—exactly as you had mentioned, this dog was well-over one hundred pounds and looked like a mean old thing. You had effortlessly gained its trust with the dog rolled over on its back for you in a matter of minutes.You leaned over to give vigorous belly rubs. Homelander’s head tilted slightly to watch as your form-fitting skirt rode farther and farther up the back of your thighs. A predatory grin twitched at the corner of his mouth despite his attempts to conceal it.

You turned around quickly, eyes searching for his, with a stupidly large smile on your face, gesturing for him to join you on the floor to which he reluctantly complied.

"Look at that face," you said softly, your voice laced with affection as you nudged Homelander with your elbow, coaxing him into the moment. "Seriously, just look at that face. Come on, give him some pets.”

Homelander let out a soft, amused laugh, the corners of his mouth twitching upward as he glanced at you, then at the dog, still nestled comfortably in your lap. After a moment of feigned hesitation, he gave in, his hand reaching down to ruffle the dog’s fur, his touch light and almost tentative. The warmth of a reluctant smile spread across his face as he gave the dog a few quick, affectionate pats on the head, his usual cool demeanor momentarily softened by the scene.

"Good boy," you cooed with a proud smile, your voice dripping with affection as you leaned in to press a flurry of loud, playful kisses to the dog's cheek. "Who's a good boy, huh?”

Homelander’s breath caught in his throat, a quiet, breathy sigh escaping him as he shifted slightly. His face flushed a deep shade of red, and he cleared his throat in an attempt to regain some composure, his usually confident demeanor faltering for just a moment under the weight of your praise.

You looked up, the weight of Homelander’s unblinking, steely blue gaze settling on you like a tangible presence. The air around you felt charged as your gaze drifted to his lips for just a heartbeat, the barest flicker of a thought passing through your mind before you caught yourself. They were so close, so tempting in their sharpness and quiet authority. You could feel the tension building, the subtle shift in the air that made everything feel heightened—like the space between you and him was shrinking with each passing second. Homelander didn’t pull away nor did he close the gap between you. His expression remained unreadable, yet there was a flicker of something behind his cold exterior.

“You’re good with him,” Homelander noted, breaking the silence and turning his head away, clearing his throat again in attempt to recover from his previous shift in demeanor.

Biting your lip at the thought of him so close, you rounded the corner of the hallway within your small apartment building, the familiar hum of the city fading into the background. As you neared your door, something caught your eye—a piece of paper taped haphazardly to the surface. Your steps slowed, and your brow furrowed as you approached, a small knot of curiosity tightening in your chest.

Reaching up, you peeled the note free from the old, weathered wood. It was a cheap piece of paper, hastily torn from what looked like a notebook, and your name was scribbled across it in thick, bold all-caps, written with an almost aggressive stroke of black marker. You couldn’t help but feel a small shiver run down your spine, an unsettling but familiar sensation. The handwriting was unmistakable.

Turning the note over, you unfolded the creased paper with fingers that seemed to fumble despite your best efforts. The ink seemed fresh, the words blunt and clear.

"Enjoy the promotion. I like dark roast coffee. Don’t be late. — H”

A chill danced over your skin. You couldn’t quite place the mix of surprise and unease that washed over you. You blinked slowly, standing still for a moment as you processed the note. H—there was no need for clarification. You already knew who it was. The way his presence lingered in your mind after today felt almost like a shadow.

Shaking off the feeling, you fumbled for your keys, your mind still partially caught up in the cryptic message. Your fingers brushed against the cold metal before finally unlocking the door with a small click. You pushed it open and stepped into your apartment, but the scene before you made your heart skip a beat.

There, in the middle of your living room, was the same German Shepherd from earlier that day. His sleek coat glistened in the soft light of your apartment, the deep brown and black fur shimmering with every subtle shift of movement. His tongue lolled out in a relaxed pant, and with every breath, his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. His tail thumped eagerly against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the quiet apartment like a steady drumbeat, as if he’d been waiting for you.

As the dog jumped down from the couch to greet you, nuzzling your thigh, the realization hit you that you were being drawn deeper into something far more complicated than you’d expected. You looked at the sweet dog before looking back down at Homelander’s note, running your fingers over the paper again. His mark was unmistakable—each line in his handwriting bold and deliberate. The simple black ink now carrying more weight than it had just moments ago.

[khaylin27]

But Daddy I Love Him

pairing: fernando alonso x stroll reader; lance stroll x sister reader

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: y/n stroll rebels against her controlling family and falls in love with a certain spaniard.

warnings: some cuss words; toxic family; age gap 42 and 25

author's note: I included some characters from my other fics from this series, Y/N Piastri-Norris and Y/N Wolff. Hope y'all like it!

I forget how the West was won I forget if this was ever fun I just learned these people only raise you to cage you

It was fun traveling around the world with your dad and brother. Your father had raised you and your brother in F1. But once Lance got his big shot in F1, you noticed that your father only raised you to cage you.

When Fernando, the older Spaniard, joined the team, he noticed the way the team and your family would cage you from anything relating the F1. They just wanted you to be there and sit pretty supporting your brother.

You were watching the team work on repairs to Fernando's car. The mechanics were doing stuff wrong but you didn't want to make comments. Your father would get mad if he found out you made comments on the livery instead of doing your actual job of 'sitting still and looking pretty.'

Fernando walks to the garages to see how the progress is going. He notices you watching the mechanics working on his car. He knew you had something to say by the way you looked. "Y/N, any input on the car?" He knew what your situation was with your father and brother, but didn't want to comment on it. Technically it was none of his business since your father was his employer. "I know you have something to say."

You then explain to Fernando and the mechanics about the problems the mechanics were ignoring. Fernando watches you in awe as you explain. "This car needs to be in top shape if you want him to win this weekend." You smile at Fernando and he smiles back at you.

Sarahs and Hannahs in their Sunday best Clutching their pearls, sighing "What a mess" I just learned these people try and save you cause they hate you

It was the Chinese Grand Prix, you and your sister plus her husband were dressed in your Sunday best. If you couldn't race in F1 at least you were going to the paddock in your best looks.

Lance had made contact with Daniel during the safety car period. Scotty, Chloe's husband, was a mess since he's friends with Daniel. "This is a mess," Scotty tells Chloe stressed out about the collision. "I need to go to RB to check if he's okay." Chloe nods an okay before Scotty leaves.

Once the cars went back to the garage, you run in there to check if Lance is okay. Before you can get into the garage, security had politely told you it was a restricted area.

"What do you mean restricted area? I'm family and part of the Aston Martin team." You explain to security.

"Sorry Ms. Stroll but direct orders from your family that you can't come into the garage anymore." Now you were furious. "Who the hell from my family would say that?"

"Your father and brother." You turn around and see that Fernando was standing right there. "Let her come in. She's my guest."

"Are you sure sir?" The security guard asks. Fernando nods yes and the security guard sighs before he lets you in.

"Why would my father and brother do that?" You asked Fernando pissed off of what happened earlier.

"I don't know why they would do that. All I know is these people try and save you cause they hate you." You stop on your tracks confused at what Fernando was saying. You ask Fernando what he meant by that. "Your father says he doesn't want you to race in F1 because he's trying to save you but it's because he knows you're a better driver than Lance. I've seen how you drive in the car and the statistics don't lie Y/N."

They slammed the door on my whole world The one thing I wanted

You were too shocked to even speak. Your father sabotaged your whole F1 career just for Lance.

Before you could even speak, Lance runs up to you and Fernando. "Y/N what are you doing here? Security isn't supposed to let you in."

From there you got angry at your brother so you yell at him. "Yeah security didn't let me because of you and father. You two are assholes."

"Woah Y/N calm down let's not make a scene."

"Make a scene! Lance we've raced together ever since we were little. My dream has always been to be in F1. Father slammed the door on my whole world because you're not a better driver than me." You yell out explaining to Lance.

Fernando notices all the media taking photos of the argument. "Y/N we should go to my paddock room. The race is about to resume." You nod yes to Fernando before saying one last time to Lance.

"I'm tired of watching you race Lance. Wasting a seat for one hell of a driver to replace you." You walk away with Fernando to go watch the race in his paddock room.

f1news TROUBLE WITH THE STROLL SIBLINGS: After the red flag at the Chinese Grand Prix, Y/N Stroll was yelling at her brother with Fernando Alonso there. Witnesses say that Y/N was furious at her brother and father for restricting her access in the Aston Martin garage. This also included Y/N yelling at Lance about their father slamming the door on her dreams to become an F1 driver because she is the better driver than Lance.

user1 GO OFF QUEEN GO TELL THEM THE TRUTH 🗣️

user2 Y/N has always been the better driver than Lance. Lawerence is stupid for not putting her in that seat instead of Lance.

user3 did y'all see how Fernando was on Y/N side 🥹

user4 the perfect comeback for Y/N is to date Fernando. I know that Lance and Lawerence are going to be PISSED!!

Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid Tendrils tucked into a woven braid Growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all

After the Chinese Grand Prix, you decided to financially separate from your family. You needed to start new. You've been a dutiful daughter all your life because the plans were laid out for you. Once your family didn't let you race in F1, the tendrils of your relationship loosened and became chaos. You grew up precocious about being in F1 and that has never grown off you.

It was the weekend of the Miami Grand Prix. Susie Wolff had pulled some strings for you to let you be in F1 Academy. You were now the driver of Charlotte Tilbury Beauty F1 Academy Team.

yourusername I'm happy to announce that I am now the driver for Charlotte Tilbury Beauty F1 Academy Team. Thank you @/susie_wolff and @/charlottetilbury for giving me the opportunity to inspire so many females around the world. 🏎️💋✨

charlottetilbury darling you're going to be stunning on track 🤩✨

liked by yourusername

susie_wolff I'm so happy that you're finally in F1

yourusername its been a long time coming 😉

little_wolff yay I finally have someone to hang out with during f1 academy events 🥰

liked by yourusername

chloestroll my little sis finally fulfilling her dreams 🥹

liked by yourusername

racerbia so glad we get to race together!!

liked by yourusername

fernandoalo_official proud of you bonita pretty ❤️

yourusername 🥰🥰🥰 user1 FERNANDO WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE!? user2 wait ... are they together?? user3 PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

He was chaos, he was revelry Bedroom eyes like a remedy Soon enough the elders had convened Down at the city hall

Fernando had messaged you after your first win in F1 Academy. He had asked if you wanted to celebrate together by going to dinner. You obviously said yes because it was Fernando. Who wouldn't say yes to a hot Spanish driver.

"Congrats on your first win." Fernando greets you before kissing you on the cheek. He had never greeted you that way before you.

"Thank you Nando." You blush before you two order your meals. Once you order your meals you continue the conversation. "I wouldn't have done it without you. If that day didn't happen I don't think I would have left."

Fernando reaches out to your hand over the table. "I'm happy that you left. I missing seeing you in the garage but I couldn't stand the way your family treated you."

"You miss seeing me in the garage?" You ask blushing that Fernando had confessed to you that he missed you.

"Yes, I've always had feelings for you Y/N." You were shocked at what Fernando was confessing to you. "I wanted to tell you but your family had convened. If I ever made a move on you they would punish you." Fernando is still holding your hand.

You smile at Fernando. "Thank you for protecting me when I was there. But they can't punish me now." You give Fernando a passionate kiss after your confession. You knew Fernando was chaos and revelry but his eyes were like a remedy.

"Stay away from her" The saboteurs protested too much Lord knows the words we never heard Just screeching tires and true love

f1news Y/N STROLL CELEBRATING HER FIRST WITH FERNANDO!? Y/N Stroll, Charlotte Tilbury Beauty F1 Academy Driver was seen getting close with Fernando Alonso at dinner. Is Y/N getting back at her brother and father?

user1 YES THE QUEEN IS FINALLY HAPPY!!!

user2 I knew they had something together 🥹

user3 thank god y/n left her family to be in f1 academy and brought alonso with her

****

After a romantic night with Fernando, you woke up with breakfast in bed. "I ordered room service for us, bonita pretty."

"Thank you Nando." You give Fernando a kiss before you start eating. While you're eating, you open your phone and see messages from friends

New Messages

Oscar's Wifey 🧡: OMG YOU AND FERNANDO ARE DATING!!

Little Wolff 🐺: GIRL!!! You need to spill the tea on your new relationship with Fernando ☕️

"Nando." Fernando looks up to you. "How do some of the wags know we're dating?" You show Fernando your messages while he's drinking his coffee.

"It's probably the media. I should've done something small so the media couldn't see us." You could tell that Fernando was anxious that people found out that you two were together.

To calm his nerves, you give him a kiss. "It's okay. They were going to find out anyway."

"Did any of your family text you?" He asks.

"I blocked most of them except for Chloe and Scotty." Fernando's phone goes off and he checks it. It was a message from Lawerence Stroll.

New Message

Lawerence Stroll: Stay away from her

"Don't answer it." You tell Fernando. "I'm a grown lady and I can do whatever I want. We're happy and that's all that matter." You both smile at each other before finishing your breakfast.

yourusername just screeching tires of true love 🏎️💋

tagged fernandoalo_official

little_wolff you two are too cute 🥹

georgerussell63 you don't think we're cute @/little_wolff 💔 fernandoalo_official you guys remind me of toto and susie too much little_wolff that's what we're trying not to do 💀

mrspianorris I did not see this coming but I'm happy for you guys 🥺

yourusername thank you @/mrspianorris 🥹🫶

lance_stroll really y/n 🤢

user1 lance stroll more like lance sTROLL user2 why can't you be happy and supportive for your sister for once? not everything is about you. 🙄

And now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned Screaming "But Daddy I love him!" I'm having his baby No, I'm not, but you should see your faces

You were in Paris doing media for Charlotte Tilbury. Fernando had tagged along with you since the race wasn't until next week.

"So Y/N, we see that your man is here to support you at the event. How has it been going in your relationship?" A reporter asks as you're walking down the read carpet.

"Our relationship is doing really well." You smile while Fernando is hugging you on the red carpet. "We've known each other for a while and our relationship has grown from there."

"We see that Fernando is very affectionate with you." She smiles before adding. "How did your family react to hearing the news?"

"They found out through the media which isn't ideal but yeah." You give a faint smile. "They can't do anything about it. Fernando has always had feelings for me and it took me leaving my family to find out. I don't care what they think because like Ariel said 'but daddy, I love him.'" Your quote from the little mermaid made the reporter laugh.

"Any upcoming plans for the future?"

"Yes," You smile before continuing. "Fernando and I agreed we would take the next step in our relationship and move in together. We have to because we're having a baby."

The reporter jaw drops before Fernando clears the joke. "She's just joking. We want to move in together so we can spend more time together while we're not racing. Of course we want children together one day, but I know her F1 career is just starting and I want her to focus on that." You smile at Fernando before giving him a kiss.

I'll tell you something right now I'd rather burn my whole life down Than listen to one more second of all this griping and moaning

yourusername screaming but daddy i love him 🖤

tagged fernandoalo_official

fernandoalo_official Mi hermosa dama 😍 my pretty lady

liked by yourusername

taylorswift 🖤✨

liked by yourusername

user1 MOTHER APPROVES user2 I swear Taylor wrote this song about Y/N 😭

lance_stroll you guys disgust me

yourusername @/lance_stroll I'll tell you something rn Lance. I'd rather burn my whole life down. Than listen to one more second of all this griping and moaning. user3 YOU GO TELL HIM GIRL user4 Y/N FINALLY CLAPPING BACK AT LANCE 👏

God save the most judgmental creeps Who say they want what's best for me Sanctimoniously performing soliloquies I'll never see

It was the weekend of the Canadian Grand Prix, your sister and Scotty had asked you to come to the race to spend time with you. You tried saying no but it was your older sister and you couldn't say no. At least you could support Fernando this weekend.

Since Fernando was racing at this moment, you walked by yourself to the Aston Martin paddock. From there you saw your sister and Scotty.

"Ahh you're here!" Chloe runs up to you and gives you a big hug. You haven't physically seen Chloe since the Chinese Grand Prix. "I thought you weren't going to come."

"Well you are my older sister so I couldn't say no." You laugh before Scotty comes up to you for a hug.

"So glad you're here sucker." Scotty says in his Australian accent. "We have exciting news to tell you." You were confused before your sister takes out a small Aston Martin jersey.

"We're having a baby!"

"Oh my god! Congratulations you guys." You say before giving them a big hug. "I'm so happy for you guys!"

Your moment of happiness with your sister and brother-in-law cut short as Lance and your father come in. "Y/N what are you doing here?" Your father asks.

"I invited her this weekend to tell her about the baby." Chloe says happily before adding. "It would also be great for her to support her man." You smile at your sister.

Your smile went away as your dad starts to talk. "You shouldn't be with Fernando."

"And why is that? I'm a grown lady." You answer back.

"We want what's best for you Y/N. Fernando is an old playboy driver who will just break your heart." Your father admits to you.

You were tired of your father and Lance treating you this way. You're a grown woman who can make her own choices. "I'm so tired of you two telling me what to do with my life. I sanctimoniously perform soliloquies to you two my whole life. I never noticed until Fernando showed me how you guys truly are."

Thinking it can change the beat Of my heart when he touches me And counteract the chemistry And undo the destiny

"We do that because we love you," Lance says.

"You think you 'love' me Lance," You scoff at Lance's words. "I never knew love until my heart beat changed for Fernando. The chemistry we have undid everything you guys put me through. It lead me to the destiny I have today."

You ain't gotta pray for me Me and my wild boy And all this wild joy If all you want is gray for me Then it's just white noise And it's just my choice

"I pray that you're not making a mistake." Your father adds before grabbing the door handle.

"You ain't gotta pray for me. Me and my wild boy are happy. I'm finally happy now that I have my wild joy." Your wild joy was finally being in F1.

"If all you want is gray for me. Then it's just going to be white noise for you." You laugh before adding. "I finally did the one thing you two caged me from. I'm finally an F1 driver."

Your father and Lance don't say anything and leave. It didn't matter what they think. You were happy with the choices you made.

"I'm happy that you stood up to them Y/N," Chloe says before giving you a hug. Scotty joins the hug as well.

"Thank you guys."

There's a lot of people in town that I Bestow upon my fakest smiles Scandal does funny things to pride But brings lovers closer

f1news SCANDAL DOES FUNNY THINGS TO PRIDE BUT BRINGS LOVERS CLOSER: We know Y/N for the fakest smiles while staying in the sidelines of her brother. But reportedly Y/N spoke out to her father and brother about the way she's been treated for years and how she's "never felt love until Fernando came into the picture."

user1 @/f1news the taylor swift lyric!!!

user2 they're literally brother's teammate x forbidden love troupe

user3 so glad the media to finally addressing the way the Stroll men have treated Y/N.

We came back when the heat died down Went to my parents and they came around All the wine moms are still holding out But it's over.

The next time you went to Aston Martin in Barcelona. Since you were racing in F1 Academy that weekend, you didn't see Fernando until late every night. Once you won first place in the race, you had rushed back to your hotel room to get ready for Fernando's race. You couldn't miss this race since it was his home race.

As you scan your paddock badge, you see that your brother was at the entrance. You try your best to not get his attention but you were too late. "Y/N!" You don't turn to look at him. You needed to get to Fernando and support him.

As you're speed walking to Fernando's garage, Lance stops you. "Y/N I've been yelling your name."

"Okay, and?" You say before you start walking again.

"Y/N I want to apologize for how me and dad have been treating you your whole life. I know it wasn't right. It should be you in my seat instead of me." You were shocked at what Lance was saying. "These past few months have been hell without you. I miss seeing you around the paddock supporting me and Fernando."

A smile creeps up to your face as Lance adds Fernando to his sentence. "You finally address my boyfriend."

He rolls his eyes. "Yes, I was mad that you left Aston Martin and instead of supporting you getting into F1 Academy I publicly slandered you for your relationship with Fernando. I'm sorry for being a asshole."

"You've been an asshole most of your life Lance." You both laugh at your comment. "But thank you for the apology. Does this mean you approve of Fernando?"

He gives you a big hug before you says, "Yes, I don't want to lose you again." You give him a big hug before he has to leave for the race.

Now I'm dancing in my dress in the sun and Even my daddy just loves him I'm his lady, and oh my God You should see your faces

yourusername now i'm dancing in my dress in the sun and even my daddy just loves him ☀️💚✨

tagged fernandoalo_official

fernandoalo_official glad your dad finally approved of us 🩶

little_wolff @/yourusername what did fernando have to do to get your father's approval? 💀 yourusername he had to extend his contract to get on my father's good side ☺️ i'm his lady so of course he did it. he loves me 🥰

lance_stroll you guys are too lovey dovey for me 🤢

mariloublg_ let your sister be happy for once babe 😭 yourusername yeah what my sister in law said 😼 pls marry her already 🤗

user1 finally the stroll family is getting along 🥺💚

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

[huihuiheart]

Loosen Up My Buttons - Seventeen - Woozi

Navigation

Seventeen Masterlist

Pairing:  Office Worker! Jihoon x Office Worker! Fem Reader

Summary: Your work rivalry carries a lot of tension. Especially come promotion time, but what happens when the two of you finally snap?

Warnings: Cursing, dirty talk, bratty speech, degradation (in the dirty talk), oral (fem rec), fingering, spanking (light), dom! Jihoon, sir kink (light), unprotected sex, cumming inside, multiple orgasms, crying (from pleasure).

Word Count: 4278

You swore that if he wasn’t so hot and you didn’t need this job quite so badly you’d have snapped a long time ago. Jihoon really grated on your nerves. It didn’t help that he was your only rival when it came to being noticed at work. Your only true competition for a raise or promotion. Thankfully up to now it had been for promotions with multiple openings, but not anymore. Your department head had just left and so the potion opened to the team leads. You and Jihoon each push yours to keep ahead of the other. You were mumbling curses under your breath when entering the break room for another coffee only to see the very bane of your existence. 

He turns from pouring his coffee, expression smug as ever upon seeing you, “Guess who just completed another project.”

“That’s because they only trust your team with low-level shit. If you had the Arlington or Campbell projects things would be very different.” You counter without hesitation. 

“Is cursing really appropriate for the workplace?” Jihoon jumps topics seeing the opportunity to strike at something, as the snake of a man always did. 

“Have I ever fucking cared? I stay professional with clients and in meetings, but in the break room no one fucking cares.” You roll your eyes at him. 

“You better watch out, when I get promoted I better not hear any of that or we’ll have a problem,” Jihoon smirks at the way you so visibly bristle at the comment.

“If you get it because god knows I’m not going down without a fucking fight. Now get back to work… or do they actually get more done without your hovering?” You have a turn to smirk now having finished fixing your coffee to leave before he does as the supervisor passes. The same supervisor who had been in the area and you intentionally neglected to tell Jihoon. If he wanted to be a dick he’d get to see what it got him. 

“Come on guys, I know we’re exhausted, but we’re almost done. Arlington meeting is on Friday and if we nail that we’ll all get a nice little check and on top of that we can go to Boo’s Bar on me. Start our weekend off right.” You encourage your team, and the cheers in response make you chuckle when Jihoon walks by with a scoff to sour your mood again.

“Having to bargain to get work done isn’t a good sign of your leadership.” He muses, raising a brow when you whip around towards him.

“It’s not bargaining, it’s a reward to thank them for all the hard work they do. Some of us know how to appreciate others and have fun after all.” You counter feeling more smug than attacked.

“I know how to have fun! In fact, I’m sure I could have more fun with my team than you do!” Jihoon insists, having to make a competition out of everything.

“If you have to make fun into a competition then you really don’t grasp the concept of it.” You scoff rolling your eyes, “But if you insist you know where we’ll be Friday night.” 

Jihoon got on your nerves, yes, but that would certainly be good entertainment for you too. Seeing how out of place such a stuck-up man like Jihoon would be in that environment. This would be something to look forward to, especially whenever he got on your nerves between now and then. Though you knew the antisocial man was likely to chicken out. 

Once Friday rolls around though you refuse to allow yourself to dwell on Jihoon when you have to present your team's project in one of the biggest quarterly meetings. Focused solely on getting through and your team completing this successfully. A wave of relief washing over once you’re on the other side of it. Seeing them off rather professionally before your team immediately turns to cheers after, everyone is relieved after putting so much into this project. Now finally able to amuse yourself with the concept of Jihoon being knocked down a few places as everyone rambles about how they will celebrate tonight at Boo’s or over the weekend. Only more excited as Jihoon stomps past you to his desk to sulk. 

Your team mostly walks down the block to Boo’s after work, packing your blazer into your bag, and undoing a button to relax some. Sitting at the bar to let Seungkwan know you were covering the team tonight and unwinding some there before whatever else happened. Somewhat stunned as Jihoon’s team walks in a few moments later. Jihoon’s tie was long gone and a few buttons popped, sleeves rolled up as well. The sight of him making your jaw drop for a second before quickly correcting yourself in time for him to spot you and head over. 

“A Vieux Carré,” Jihoon says, obviously trying to seem above this place only to blink in shock as Seungkwan goes to mix it up without an ounce of hesitation. Making you have to hide your smirk at how ineffective his plan to make this all seem lesser blew up in his face so well when the drink was placed before him.

Seungkwan’s attention turned to you, “I indulged you with your first drink request, but no more of this. See you need to celebrate tonight, so I’m bringing your wine out.”

You watch him walk off, returning with a bottle of 2004 Masseto, opening it to pour you a glass before setting it back down. Jihoon’s jaw-dropping now at the sight of the wine.

“I… here I was thinking you had no taste at all, but I stand corrected. At least you know how to pick a good wine.” Jihoon finally speaks though it is still slightly condescending and Seungkwan has you back before you can even put your glass down.

“Too bad you won’t be getting any of it. See this is part of the private collection that I have just for her.” He beams before winking at you. Today certainly was your day and maybe it would teach Jihoon to keep the pointless remarks to himself for once, though you knew that was likely too good to be true. 

Jihoon scowls and it only makes you even prouder, taking the opportunity to goad the man even more, “Besides what do you even have to celebrate tonight?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes, “You can go out for reasons other than to celebrate something.”

You know that he’s trying to save face and it makes you smirk around your glass, “Right, that’s why you’re so good at letting loose.”

“You say that as if you’re not just sitting here too.” Jihoon counters and you roll your eyes.

“That’s because everyone else has someone they're with, and them having fun is more important than me proving something to you.” You shrug as you sip on your wine, “ Sometimes I’ll dance with Boo too, but he’s busy right now.

Jihoon raises a brow before standing and offering you his hand. Surprising you some, but you’re not about to give him any more reasons to talk shit to you. So you take his hand, get up, and follow him out to the floor. Hating how your body heats up when he puts his hands on your waist. Closer to Jihoon than you ever anticipated you would be right now, following his lead even as it has you both drawing closer to each other. Hands drifting all over each other as the music takes over, your coworkers all whispering as they notice. Jihoon not letting you go anywhere when you get flustered though.

“Are you going back to being shy, put together, professional now? Don’t tell me that now that I’m proving you wrong you can’t back up your own words.” Jihoon muses, only chuckling a little more when you glare at him.

“Absolutely not.” You insist as you continue to dance with him, “What about your stuck-up reputation though?”

“Like they would say anything to me when I’m about to get a promotion.” Jihoon counters to bristle you intentionally.

“If.” You roll your eyes, “If you get the promotion.”

“Well, how exactly are you going to stop me from getting it?” Jihoon taunts you smugly.

“You should be the one worrying about stopping me after today.” You taunt right back. You are biting down on your lip to stop any sounds when his grip tightens on you.

“You know what I hate most about you?” Jihoon’s question is rhetorical as he whispers it against your ear, “ It’s that you’re how when you’re trying to be a threat.”

You shudder when he says it, but you’re not giving in that easy, “If this is a new tactic to beat me it won’t work.”

“I wish that it was sweetheart, but unfortunately for me, it's the truth. Even if that gives you a slight edge over me.” Jihoon admits, licking his lips as he looks over you instead of being flustered or embarrassed over it. 

“Well, what if I told you that makes us even?” You respond though you’re not as bold as him in doing so. It only serves to make him even more smug though.

“Awe, have you been having a hard time when I put you in your place sweetheart?” Jihoon is backing you towards the bar now as the song ends.

“Have you been having a hard time when you can’t?” You counter, taking a turn to smirk when his eyes darken as a result. Leaning in all the way now as he traps you against the bar.

“How about we get out of here and I show you just how well I can put you in your place, hm?” Jihoon offers and you’re snatching up your purse, letting Jihoon drag you out of the bar and presumably to his place. Your brain only sends red flags for a moment that perhaps he was playing you, but that quickly gets thrown away when he pulls you inside and smashes his lips against yours. Pressing you against the door and pinning you there with his body. Jihoon quickly dominated the kiss, wanting to show you who was calling the shots. 

Jihoon is affected by you even more when he pulls away to see you panting and dazed just from a kiss. Growling into your mouth when you grab his collar and pull him back in. Nipping at your lips in retaliation.

“What was that?” Jihoon hisses when you both separate again.

“Oh please Jihoon, since when have I ever made anything easy for you?” You counter only to whimper when Jihoon’s hand is behind your head, gripping your hair firmly.

“Fair enough, we’ll do this the hard way then.” Jihoon shrugs before leading the way to his bedroom with that grip, tossing you onto the mattress.

“What’s the hard way?” You ask and Jihoon smirks as he crawls over you.

“Well if I told you then it would spoil the fun.” Jihoon pouts coyly at you, not about to let on anything about what he has in store for you.

“How will you know if I’ll like it then?” You counter, gasping when Jihoon’s touch travels under your shirt.

“Little bratty sluts like you like whatever I have to give, don't worry,” Jihoon says, fingers toying along the hem of your bra before pinching at the flesh. Pulling his touch away just to remove your shirt.

“Oh, that’s what they’ve lied and said to you?” You can’t help but take the opportunity to mess with him. Jihoon not saying anything in response, simply removing your bra next only to slap your boobs and smirk when you whimper. 

“Well look at how fast you stopped talking. Jihoon teases you.

“I can start again just as fast.” You shoot right back. Only for him to pinch your nipples and earn a yelp.

“A minute from now I’d like to see you try.” Jihoon isn’t phased by your attitude as he finishes undressing you. When he doesn’t toss your panties aside you assume it's him being a prick who is just pocketing a prize. Only to realize that’s not what it was when Jihoon is twisting them around your wrists. Securing them tightening in the fabric over your head.

“What’s that supposed to do to stop me?” You raise a brow at him.

“Oh I thought about stuffing your mouth with them to shut you up instead, but then I thought that we could probably find a much better use for that mouth of yours.” Jihoon counters and suddenly you have nothing to say, your mind full of thoughts of him filling your mouth with other things. Jihoon caresses your cheek before gripping firmly and making your lips part as he undoes his pants, “So let's see what your mouth can do better yeah? Talk shit or make me cum.”

You give in easier than you’d like to admit with his cock in front of you. Your mouth falling open more than his grip was forcing, sitting pretty and limp as you looked up at him and waited for what he would do.

Jihoon doesn’t keep either of you waiting long before he’s in your mouth. Pressing against the back of your throat when he gets as deep as he can, his work slacks pressed against your cheek as you gag around him slightly. Your spit not only coating his cock, but creating a mess on his pants as well. Jihoon couldn’t care less though, ready to pay whatever dry cleaning bill came out of this. So long as he could continue to lose himself in the feeling of your mouth. Grip returning to your hair and tugging slightly before holding you in place. 

“See I knew you could do so much better if your mouth was given a better use.” Jihoon pants out, never stopping the movement of his hips, “Just made for taking cock, not for trying to take my place. 

You definitely would have made a smart response to his face had you not been unable to. Jihoon’s other hand comes down and brushes under your teary eyes.

“That’s all it takes to make the smart, composed Y/N dumb. A cock down her throat.  It’s okay to cry though, pretty girl. In fact, it’ll get you what you want… my cum.” Jihoon’s voice is cracking and shaking more than he’d like to admit. You’re really about to make him cum though. His moans are music to your ears as he finds his orgasm, stiffening as he cums into your mouth. Pulling out to just the tip until you take every last drop.

“Show me.” Jihoon tugs your hair, tilting your head back and sucking in a sharp breath when you show him all of his cum in your mouth, “Good, now swallow.”

You’re giving in too easily and you know it. You don’t find that you care all that much right now though. Not really anyways. That doesn’t mean you won’t test him, however. After all, it got you such a good result this time, who knows what it might get you next. Hopefully something even better. 

“You learn anything, sweetheart?” Jihoon asks and he should know as soon as he sees you smirk that you aren’t about to give him the answer he’s looking for.

“Yeah, that when I talk shit you get hard and cum in like a minute.” You smugly answer only to get a smack to your thigh. 

“I bet you think that you’re some hot shit right now, don’t you?” Jihoon scoffs, “But we’ve barely gotten started, so why are you talking when you don’t even know what you’re in for?”

“Because it's fun pissing you off, plus you’re hotter angry.” You shrug giggling a little in enjoyment.

“Oh sweetheart I’m beyond angry. I’m livid.” Jihoon spits back and you’re practically dripping now. So overwhelmed with lust that your head feels heavy.

“And what is that going to get me?” You ask Jihoon, wanting nothing more than to poke the bear right now.

“What I want, not you.” Jihoon insists though you’re sure that you’ll have no problems with whatever it is he wants.

“And what is it that you want?” You question Jihoon, licking your lips knowing how many possibilities there are.

“You reduced to a dumb crying slut beneath me.” Jihoon answers, “And that’s exactly what I’m going to get too.”

“Then get it.”Your words make Jihoon jump to action again, practically ripping the rest of your clothes off your body. Pushing your legs towards your chest until you let out a whine at the tight stretch making him smirk a little and coo.

“So tense sweetheart, is this from being all uptight at the office? Don’t worry we’ll get you loosened up a little more each time we do this. After all, I like you all exposed for me, filthy little soaking cunt just begging to be stuffed.” This is the first time anyone has implied that this isn’t a one-time thing and it stirs something in your gut. “Gonna train every inch of your little body to handle me.”

You open your mouth to retort, but he beats you to it, blowing onto your pussy and making you whimper instead of talking back as he intended. Exactly what Jihoon had been planning on achieving in doing so.  You’re quick to fix him with a glare though. 

“Do you even need to do that for your small dick?” You bite back, only you see his eyes darken more than they ever have tonight or in the time that you’ve known him. Jihoon only smirks as he turns around to straddle you, using his body weight to pin your legs towards your chest still, and maybe stretching them a little more in his irritation at the moment.

“As if you didn’t choke on it.” He scoffs to himself spitting on your cunt before using his now free hands, two fingers smearing his spit around before spreading your folds to spit more directly onto your entrance now. Pressing one finger in as his lips wrap around your clit, not spending any time on gentle and delicate. Fully intending to get you ready for him quickly so he can make you eat your words as he fucks you entirely open. His weight prevents you from squirming away from his harsh actions. Jolting at the way he curls his fingers once he has added a second and finds the spongy patch that has your vision blurring a few seconds later. You think it’s solely from the sheer pleasure until you feel your cheeks wetting as tears fall only then realizing the full extent of your body's reaction. Jihoon is unable to see how quickly he got what he wanted as he is locked onto your pussy right now, fully intent on having you gush around him. The pads of his fingers massage at your spot while his mouth only gets more intense on your clit, moaning around it between harsh sucks. Not letting up until you’re cumming around him, lifting his weight off your trembling legs to turn around and face you again, only growing more smug at the sight.

“One orgasm is all that it takes sweetheart? Had I known that I would have crawled under your desk to give you one a long time ago, after all, that’s probably the best way to get you like this. Sweetest too.” He winks at you as he licks your slick off his lips. “How much more of a crying mess does that mean you’ll be on my cock though? Do you wanna find out sweetheart?” 

“Will you even last long enough to make that happen?” You raise a brow at him as if you’re not an absolute fucked out mess beneath him.

Jihoon responds with a swift slap to your cunt before pressing your legs to open more until your hips lift, “I’m not some little virgin who blows his load the second he feels a slutty cunt.”

“You could have fooled me with how you reacted to my mouth, but I guess we’ll just have to see.” You know it's quite likely that you’ll be the one eating your words, but that you’ll have no real complaints about it when he does.

Jihoon scoffed as he ran his tip through your folds only pushing in when he finally pulled a whine from you, “That’s right sweetheart. You’re talking big, but just a needy little cockslut for me huh?”

When you refuse to answer him he stills inside of you, “Answer me. Be good and say yes sir.”

“And why would I ever give you that satisfaction?” You grit out as if you weren’t so gone you were almost ready to give him anything that he asked for.

“I mean you should get used to saying it now since I'm going to be your boss soon enough.” Jihoon grins wickedly, “And if you don’t I’ll walk away leaving you high and dry.”

The threat in his words settles on you like a heavy weight and your heart nearly stops, swallowing down your pride, “Yes sir.”

“Yes sir what?” Jihoon pushes you further as he still doesn’t move.

“Yes sir, I’m your needy little cockslut.” Your voice is soft, but thankfully not so much so that Jihoon doesn’t push you further.

“There’s a good girl who knows how to listen. Don’t worry sweetheart, girls who do as they’re told get rewarded.” Jihoon’s tone is slightly condescending still, but he’s praising you nonetheless as his hips slowly start to move. The position he has you in allows him to press in deep, the man focusing more on that and making it hard than fast. “Bet you’d learn to listen even better if I filled you up with cum. All the biggest brats just need someone to make a mess of their little cunts to start acting right.”

“There’s only one way for you to find out if it will.” Your words spur him on. Willing to say whatever you’ll need to to get him to follow through on that though. Something that has Jihoon cursing under his breath and finally picking up the pace, shifting so that his pelvis grinds against your clit whenever he fills you up again. That is the moment when you once again become an incoherent mess. Jihoon looks into your eyes as he smirks down at the incoherent mess that he’s made of you.

“That’s right go dumb for me. I want you to cum like this and only when you’re good like that will I fill you up.” Jihoon growls down at you as he closes the gap, breath hot against your face. Not letting up until that’s what he gets, you delving further into pleasure as you cum for him. Jihoon continues on for only a moment longer until he’s cumming inside, warmth spreading through your core for another reason now. Jihoon rolling off you now to allow you both to catch your breath and for you to stretch your sore legs out.

Jihoon looked over your form, licking his lips before grinning mischievously, “Round two?”

You huff a laugh before grinning right back, “You’re on.”

The rest of your night ends up like that. Bleeding into the weekend as well. Though you weren’t entirely animals, having some reprieve from all the sex. Having to adjust to the sight of Jihoon in casual clothes which was surprisingly more shocking than seeing him naked. Adjusting also to having to wear his clothes for your little impromptu weekend away. Learning that Jihoon wasn’t as much of a prick as he could be in the office. Still, all good things had to come to an end… kind of. Going back to work on Monday sparked the rivalry back up, but had anyone really focused there were signs things had changed. A door held when it would have been left to close in the face. A coffee cup was replaced with a full one right on schedule by the other. Including certain people in lunch orders now. Still, it never went anywhere beyond friendly professionalism in the office. Despite the fantasies on both sides. Even outside the office where it was obvious something was developing you were both still feeling it out. Slow to everything outside of the physical aspects so as to see if it was merely tension or not. Finally grasping the feelings involved as the month drew to a close and the time to reveal the promotion came.

Jihoon finds you in the breakroom as you both get coffee before the meeting to announce it, “You know it’ll be really hard not to fuck you in the office when you’re having to call me sire all the time.”

You would have gotten him back for the teasing had you not gasped so incredulously at how blatant he just was in the office. Despite you two being the only ones in the breakroom. Jihoon simply winks as he sips his coffee on the way out. You roll your eyes as you follow behind. Having to hold back your laughter when Jihoon ends up eating his words anyway, you having been given the promotion.

You lean in with a smirk while passing his desk after finalizing everything with HR, “You may not be my boss, but that doesn’t mean I won’t let you fuck me in the office.”

Your whispered words make it up slightly to Jihoon who is now following behind you to help you break in your new office.

[zeroseuniverse]

Obsession

Word Count: 683 Summary: Lee Taeyong was brilliant, sharp, and ran his company like a well-oiled machine. But when it came to you? He was a problem. Pairing: CEO Taeyong X GN Secretary reader

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Your job description was simple: manage schedules, filter calls, handle emails, and keep your ridiculously wealthy, powerful, and impossibly clingy boss from doing anything that would land him on the front page of a tabloid.

Lee Taeyong was brilliant, sharp, and ran his company like a well-oiled machine. But when it came to you?

He was a problem.

It started subtly—lingering glances, “accidental” brushes of his hand when he handed you documents, the way he always had an extra coffee waiting for you every morning (even though you never told him how you liked it). But it quickly escalated into something else.

Something obsessive.

Like how he mysteriously developed an aversion to any male employees coming within five feet of your desk.

Or how every time you went on lunch break, he just so happened to need urgent assistance with something that could have easily waited.

Or how, when you casually mentioned that you were thinking of going on a date, his entire office went silent.

You had watched, amused and a little terrified, as his usually calm expression went completely blank.

“A date?” he repeated, as if the word personally offended him.

“Yes, Taeyong. People do that, you know. They meet people, they talk, they—”

“With who?” His voice was too even, his fingers tightening around his pen until you were sure it would snap.

You blinked. “That’s not really—”

“Who.”

Okay. This was new. You’d never seen your boss glitch before.

Clearing your throat, you shrugged. “Just someone I met last week. He’s nice.”

The air in the office shifted.

“Nice?” Taeyong said, as if you had just admitted to committing a felony.

“…Yes?”

There was a tense pause before he suddenly leaned back in his chair, his sharp, assessing eyes never leaving yours.

“Cancel it.”

You let out a laugh. “Excuse me?”

“I said cancel it.”

“And why would I do that?”

Taeyong smiled. It was the kind of smile that made stock prices soar and entire industries bow to his will. Unfortunately for him, you were immune.

“Because,” he said smoothly, “I don’t like the idea of my secretary being distracted.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t realize my personal life was now a corporate matter.”

He tilted his head, studying you. “Everything about you is my business.”

You froze.

The office suddenly felt a little too warm, his gaze a little too intense.

You tried to play it off, rolling your eyes. “That’s not how employment works, Taeyong.”

He smirked. “No, but that’s how I work.”

Oh, you were so doomed.

—

Things only got worse from there.

By “worse,” you meant:

Your date mysteriously canceled on you last minute (you knew Taeyong was behind it, but you had no proof).

A new intern innocently complimented your outfit, and Taeyong personally reassigned him to another department (far, far away).

He installed a state-of-the-art security system in your apartment building without telling you. ("Safety first," he had said, eyes completely unapologetic).

And the final straw?

A business dinner with a foreign investor, where the CEO of another company got a little too friendly with you.

You had been handling it just fine—until you suddenly felt Taeyong’s hand snake around your waist, pulling you flush against his side.

“She’s not interested,” he had said, voice dripping with authority. “And I’d appreciate it if you stopped looking at my secretary like you’re imagining her in something other than her dress.”

The entire table had gone silent.

Your brain? Short-circuited.

And then—because apparently he wasn’t done ruining your life—he leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he murmured, "Only I get to do that."

Game over. You were done.

Later that night, after you had yelled at him (which he had smugly enjoyed), after you had stormed out of his car (which he had personally driven to take you home), you laid awake in bed, staring at the ceiling.

You were in so much trouble.

Because Lee Taeyong wasn’t just obsessed with you.

He was making you dangerously obsessed with him, too.

And honestly? You weren’t sure you wanted to stop him.

[yey56]

LEITH PIERRE X PSYCOLOGIST READER

(complicated feelings, un-required love, Leith getting his hopes up and later destroyed. Mainly Leith's pov of chap 1 and before of that).

Since the moment you started working at playtime co you were like a fish in the sea. You adapted quicky in your position and as time passed by, your job as a clinic psychologist expanded to the head psychologist in the company. Then you became closer to the rest of the executives and important charges at the company.

That position had it's ups and downs. Your favourite benefit was the chance to work with the innovation and design department. There you met Leith Pierre, head of innovation.

You both got along right from the start, both of you were good at knowing what people wanted and you shared the gift of creativity so Leith and you were made friends very fast.

He was pretty friendly with most of the staff but sometimes he had his rage moments (like for example when an employee took him by suprise and scared the hell out of him after passing through a door)

As a joke, you made him a poster that specifically instructed the visitants and the staff of the factory to not hide behind door because Leith will get startled.

Deep down, that kind of sense of humor you had made him like you even more. You both were competitive in your works but always maintained a playful banter. A silly battle of subtle little insults will always start when you were together in the same room. Never aim to really hurt but rather to annoy and tease.

He would often frequent your office and talk to you about the last models of toys he was designing, always focused on listening to your opinion and how certain factors of the design might attract more clients.

If he ever catched you in the middle of an appointment with a child he would wave and wait outside until the child finished.

You also noticed he was a very physical man. He was always touching everyone's shoulders or backs as a way to appear closer or warmer. You assumed he had his businessmen methods on appearing more appealing to the public.

Pierre was getting more attached to you by each year that you worked on the company.

He even tried to get closer to you by directing himself the commercial of the toy you design yourself, Piannosaurus.

"So, what do you think... Come one, we both now it's amazing!!" He said excited as he extended his arms and grabbing your shoulder in the process.

"Certainly not bad... I would've made it better but not bad for being you" you chucked playfully. Leith had taken you out of your work hours to show you this commercial.

You appreciated the effort, of course but your mind was occupied by something else or maybe someone else.

A few months ago the project Bigger Bodies started and at the lead was Dr Harley Sawyer. Leith didn't get along with Sawyer and neither did you at the start.

In reality, you didn't care much about Harley at the start apart from being a capable Dr and later someone who you respected professionally but Leith seemed to have some kind of mistrust against him.

He always wore tense smiles around him and didn't seemed to trust him much.

Eventually you started becoming more involved with the project, obsessed even. You were most of your time in the lower levels performing experiments and treating the toys and kids down there.

Pierre always knew you as someone very comprised with her work. You loved what you did and you made it known.

The problem was that you barely seemed to remember others existence apart from yourself and the person you were down there with. Sawyer.

Your relationship with the doctor had developed into some sort of friendship. Your ideals were very similar and since you both always insisted on staying down personally supervising the experiments you ended up interacting with each other a lot.

One day he got tired of waiting for you to seek out so he did it himself.

"Good morning sir" greeted the guard responsible for the labs.

"Where is Dr (Y/L/N)?" He asked directly.

"Sir, Dr (Y/L/N) and Dr Sawyer are in lab 007 performing an experiment on one of the toys."

He was certainly irritated that Sawyer was the one getting your time, but of course you were the only two ones demented enough to stay down there for more than required.

Some deadlines on his department had been missed because your lack of assistance didn't gave the inversors the security to invest in the toys.

He had suggested Ludwig to make your intervention in innovation required at least twice a week but the man was still revising the schedules and contracts.

Irritated, he arrived at the handrail you and Sawyer were at. You were taking notes and commenting on the behaviour and cognitive abilities of a nightmare creature. This one was bigger than the others, a black sheep.

His blood boiled when he saw Sawyer so close to you. He had been made aware that there were complaints about the Drs lack of respect for boundaries and personal space.

If Harley didn't knew how to maintain some healthy physical space that was his problem.

Forcing a smile he approached the pair, putting a hand on Harley's shoulders.

"Sawyer! (Y/L/N)! It's been quite sometime since you had seen the sun" his attempt at humor was met by the disgusted face Harley gave him.

The Dr moved his shoulder harshly so Pierre's hand would fall from it.

"Working, the experiments require time" he responded dryly.

"Sawyer the investors are waiting, I'm sure you both are working yourself to the bone to get a result out of the experiments but I need to give something to the guys funding us" he turned to you "(Y/N)!, I'm sure you understand that this project is very risky. We are putting so much on the line" he now grabbed your shoulder.

You were still writing in the report the last notes about the experiment "Of course I do understand Leith, but you need to comprehend that precisely because this is a risky project we cannot allow ourselves to make any mistake" you finalised the notes by signing them.

"Would you be so kind as to give this report to Dr White? He will need to make some adjustments in his next patients. Harley and I have been noticing some patterns on the experiments that can be corrected if we are careful enough" Oh! Now you called him Harley. How sweet. He though while you passed him the notes. He held on the subtle contact you fingers made.

Harley seemed annoyed merely by Leith's presence. He was already used to you being there with him. He had accepted you as part of his space.

You could peacefully exist in his office, in the labs he was in and anywhere near him but any other person who should not be there that was somewhat staying more than needed was met with a glacial look from the doctor.

"Pierre, as I'm sure you understand I have more surgeries to perform and (Y/L/N) needs to run some more test on 1888." Sawyer looked coldly at Leith and left the lab while putting on his lab bat.

Leiths tense smile dropped the moment Sawyer got out of the area and he quickly turned to you.

You were putting away some documents on the bookshelves on the wall, archiving the remainder of the experiment.

"You know, you could get out of here sometime. The innovation team is a disaster without you doing their works" he joked trying to fix the tense atmosphere that had took over the room.

You stretcht, groaning before facing him. "Yeah sorry, this is just so fascinating.... And I need to lead the other psychologist, the experiment are quite picky." You laughed

"Don't worry, both me and Harley are required in the executive meetings. The next one is on Tuesday right? After that I will go to you office and we can settle whatever problem you and your team have" There it was again, that stupid name. He sighed annoyed and rolled his eyes. He took a look at you.

You look tired, exhausted but the light on your eyes, either by the caffeine or by the excitement made it worth it going down here.

The weeks turned into moths and even though you fulfilled your statement and spent not one bit two entire days reassuring the investors, analysing the latest trends preferences and assisting on the designs, sensory materials etc.

This appeased Leith but it irritated Sawyer. He had already his routine. You would perform your interviews and consulta, him his surgeries and later on you would both discuss the experiments and their development, sometimes even going as far a having dinner together in silence or with you ranting about some recent studies you had read.

He had heard you talk a lot about how music affected kids and how Pianosaurus was a great stimuli for the kids and a great way of stimulating the mind and creativity.

You were specially proud of that damned dinosaur and Harley knew it (mainly because you talked about it a lot)

Therefore, after getting acostumed to you and even enjoying your presence and monologues, he felt absolutely enraged that Leith was going out of his way to take you away from your responsibilities and workload. (And him of course, though he would never admit it).

He had already confronted Pierre telling him to stop making other workers lose time just because his team wasn't productive enough.

Of course this caused that the Ludwig himself had to intervene and stablish some legal rules. Re-establishing all of your contracts.

Leith should do his work with his team and since your importance in the project was essential, he should ask any other psychologist of your team if he needed help.

The resentment on Leith's part keep growing and growing just as the complaints about Sawyer.

It got to a point that even other executives as Stella had complaint about him being insufferable.

This got to a point in which the three of them started to plot how to deal with him until they got to a common ground

We could always 'deal with him' " Rittermann suggested "it's not like we haven't done it before"

"Either way, what do we do about (Y/N) she also seems pretty involved with the project. Do you think she might be a threat?" Stella quickly denied that, she wasn't really on board with the idea of dealing with people and also she didn't have any problem with you, you did your job well and treated the children with respect and that enough for her. "No, that would be just unnecessary she had done nothing wrong"

Leith was quick to agree with her "yeah, and some of the experiment are already attached to her, some of them are even refusing to be treated by other psychologist as far as I've been informed. She hasn't done anything wrong, I'm pretty sure we can just do this privately and get going."he finalised, settleling the plan

He felt relieved when the rest of them agreed. He didn't think he would have the guts to give you as a meal to Boxy Boo.

But before he could get out of the room he heard an impact on the floor. The three executives went out of the room and found the guard they had assigned to guard the corridor with his club high.

Leith looked at the floor to see who had the guard hit.

He saw you body and your belonging spilling out of a box on the floor. He knelt to your level and took you pulse. After realising what he had done, he quickly ordered the guard to take you to another room and to cuff you on a piece of furniture.

He then went away of the room, accompanied by Stella, to personally give the order of dealing with Sawyer and ascending Dr White as the new head of the surgeons.

He was completely unaware that after leaving Rittermann alone, he had given the order of dealing with you the same way as with Sawyer.

He was made aware of your fate when your anesthesia had already kicked in. He saw through the glass your unconscious body, he regretted not insisting more to Elliot about moving you upstairs again or to Home sweet Home instead of letting the situation get out of hand.

He personally chose one of your discarded designs as your new body. One you knew you would like, or at leat hate less...

A white manikin with only two black eyes. That toy you designed was destined to potentiate creativity by dressing it with accessories made of either doe or other manipulable materials...

This had gone so far tot he point he couldn't stop it, but at leat he wasn't going to lose you completely. He was a creative man, he would work something out.

He didn't realise everything would go wrong when the anesthesia didn't really worked out.

He receive a call from one of the surgeons in charge of your surgery, shouting desperate something about you waking up and stabbing his assistant with a scalpel. He faintly heard your voice on the background and later the sound of someone being shot.

Scared of what you might do, he ran to one of Sawyers screens.

"where is she??!!" Leith asked desperate

"Mmm, an why would I tell you Leith" his bitter voice was evident even though the static that now surrounded it.

Leith grabbed the sides of the TV "Listen to me you good for nothing system, either you tell me where she is or she is going to get shot by a guard!!" The seemed enough to convince Harley.

"Control room" after that he turned himself of.

Again Pierre started to run to the control room and when he reached the end of the corridor he saw you banging on the door, still in the medical dress you had for the operation.

He shouted you name and when he was already close enough to reach you, the door suddenly opened, letting you in. He knew it had been Sawyer. Only people with executive access could enter that room.

He desperately tried to reason with you, he could already imagine what would you do.

"(Y/N)!! Stop this. You are not thinking straight! They will kill you, all of us!!!" He said completely desperate, attempting to convince you to stop whatever you were planning, banging on the door even harder.

The red lights started illuminating the whole compound. That only meant one thing, you had opened the cages "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!- WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!!" He kept banging on the door out of desperation and fear" Nonono-"he murmured. Suddenly he hear you stared talking so he stuck his head to the door, trying to hear you.

You were also leaning on the other side of the door, with the look of a madwoman on you face.

"Actions have consequences Leith, sooner or later both you and I were going to face them, I just accelerated the process." you said with a mocking tone that brushed insanity"Im just helping you learn how to take responsibility for your actions."you finished with a harsh tone in your voice that expressed resentment and betrayal.

He was going to keep arguing with you, still not giving up but he heard the screams to pain and horror of the other workers so he just run and by sheer luck managed to escape the factory, not without being injured in the process. One limp leg was his price to pay.

He knew some experiments had became attached to you such as Doey, or Kissy Missy hell even Pianosaurus only gave any glimpse of response to you... He knew you would not immediately die there but you were now right at Harley's arms.

When all of the authorities arrived and he gave his testimony, obviously false and manipulated.

Years passed by and he didn't have any news of you or if you even where alive. He had founded his own new company, similar to playtime but way more discreet and simple. With no horrific experiments and most importantly not you.

One day, while cleaning his apartment he found s photo of Elliot Ludwig, now dead and the other executives. In that photo you were in between him and Sawyer. You looked calm and healthy. No like his last memory of you in which you looked exhausted, disoriented and frantic.

That made him do something he never though to do. He decided to contact an ex employee and ask for him to go to the factory. To search for the secrets of playtime urging him to discover what happened (what happened to you).

Little did he knew that that letter would change everything inside of the abandoned factory...

I redesigned Leith Pierre (I'm awful at the first version of the designs) and gave Y/N an appearance. {You can imagine Y/N with whatever characteristics you want, I did the drawing based on an oc}

Leith showing (Y/N) the Pianosaurus commercial (he's very proud)

-Unedited fanfic-

[ostentatiouslyonigiri]

"ONBOARDING"

[A/N: Seriously guys, there is no reason why Alucard should be so hard to write XD. He (in cannon) is such a discordant, confusingly consistent mess, OMG. Though I suppose that’ll happen after centuries of consuming souls…Well, at least he’s found a job that he loves! Also, reader is female and American] [EDIT: Forgot to @thirstyforlulu 😅]

“B-by myself!?”

You were at a loss for words. Asset management, training, recruitment. For the latter, you weren’t even sure of the logistics behind that. How could you run an entire HR department by yourself!? The background of the elegant room, the somber undertones, and the echo of your voice did nothing to salve the already desperate disposition of your nerves. As the smoke from the cigar of the steely eyed woman across from you dissipated into the air, a naughty thought appeared:Maybe the reason she puffs on that foul-smelling bundle of herbs is because of the stick she keeps up her—Suddenly, you felt the advance of many tiny legs up your arm and instinctively moved to swat away the possible offender. Nothing…

"Is that a problem?"The woman said as another puff of smoke left her plump lips. The unyielding nature of her gaze pinned you to the spot.The way her blue eyes bore into yours and the enunciation of your name made it clear that she dared you to respond. You did not.The decision was already made for you.There was no getting out of this. "You are to ensure the proper conduct of all personnel under the employ of my organization. You will be solely responsible for the results of this endeavour, be it success or failure. If the conditions in which you will do so do not accommodate your skill, then consider yourself terminated. If this is not the case, you are dismissed".

The openness of the hallway was a refreshing reprieve. Walking a short distance away from Sir Integra's office, you caught your bearings and reflected on your circumstances. "I guess that means I'm hired..."

You walked down a corridor, not really having a destination in mind. You just needed to think. ‘Am I really cut out for this?’ It all just felt so overwhelming. What if you failed? How would you be able to afford to get back home? Could you go back home? Already, the familiar warmth of tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes.

The eerie silence of the hallways seemed to swallow you whole as the weight of your uncertainty bore down. Your muffled footsteps left soft thuds against the carpeted marble floor, the only sound breaking the oppressive quiet. As if sensing your distress, the door lining the corridor slowly creaked open and beckoned you forth, revealing dimly lit rooms. Shadows danced within, casting an unsettling atmosphere that matched your turbulent thoughts. The soft yellow glow of the hallway lights bounced off of your ID badge and mixed with its myriad of colors. Your eyes traced over the hard piece of plastic, already sick of seeing the organization’s namesake. You shook your head. No, you can't think like this anymore! Stop with the negative self-talk! You’re not in America anymore— this is your chance to start again and prove yourself. You deserved to be here! As you continued to wander, the air within the building began to grow colder and clammier. The sudden oppressiveness of the atmosphere made even breathing uncomfortable. ‘What's going on?’ From your periphery, a particular painting caught your eye. It was of an aristocratic woman. Elegant and tall. Though beautiful, something was off. The eyes...Why were they red? You stood under the painting, observing it like a child would an attraction. Though sizable, you felt like the painting’s dwarfing effect couldn’t exactly be attributed to the painting's breadth.

"I see you've discovered Lady Integra's collection." For a short time, your surroundings were a blur as your eyes searched for the new variable.Your sights found its prize when it rested on the source of the rich baritone and smokey cologne: A man. As his chiseled jawline, silky raven hair, and broad shoulders emerged from the darker corners of the hall, more of his appearance came to light. Atop his dark tresses, laid a red wide brimmed hat that matched his red duster , and underfoot, were long leather boots. To complete the man’s strange ensemble, was his pair of orange sunglasses that reflected a brilliant sunset orange amongst the backdrop of shadows. Was this a popular dress style in England? You regarded the strange man with a level of suspicion, allowing the swell of goose pimples that were beginning to form to justify your apprehension. Clearly, this man must be an employee here; after all, he just spoke of Sir Integra. But where is his ID badge? You released a cold puff of air and gathered yourself.

“Y-yes, I have. It’s quite beautiful.” After a short pause, the man gives an appreciative hum. He approached the painting- and by extension, you- with measured strides.Though you tried not to make it obvious, the way your eyes tracked every inch of the man’s movement made your anxiety palpable. You eyed the man’s Adam’s Apple as it bobbed, like he was drinking in your fear. You chided yourself for the silly thought. Peeking through the sides of his glasses, you swore you saw crimson. It’s just a trick of the light.

“Aye, it is, isn't it? A true testament to humanity's will to rebuke what is their natural inheritance. It is but an inevitability, the grip of death, yet pieces like these ensure one will forever persist; even if it is through mere paper and colored earth. Humans…are so fascinating.”

You look up at the strange man, taking into consideration his words. “I…never really thought about it in that way. I suppose the tendency for humanity to preserve itself can be admirable, but I also can’t help but wonder when it stops being worth it to try. How many hours of labor and hardship did it take for one to even get the materials for this? Was the artist that was commissioned for this even compensated? Were they under duress? Countless resources, likely at others expense, just to spite the inevitable. At what point does it become insanity to continue?” To some extent, you wonder if the investment in such decadence could ever not be seen as tasteful. The man tilted his head in confusion, though his glasses made it difficult to tell. He later meets your gaze once more with a wide grin. “And yet it is here for you to ponder on. You still admire it, do you not?” You suppose he’s right about that…you suppose. “Mmh.”

“Alucard” What? Oh, of course, your name! “ W-here are my manners? It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Alucard!" You extended your arm for a handshake. Alucard raised an eyebrow, his expression hinting amusement at your sudden enthusiasm . Despite this, he gently took your hand in his. "The pleasure is all mine, dear" he murmurs, his voice smooth like velvet. As he released your hand, but not before a moment of arrest. The man was unnaturally cold. This made little sense considering he was wearing gloves. You stared down at them, noticing the odd symbols that traced along the smooth fabric.

"So, do you work here?” You ask nervously. “...My dear child, military compounds are not known for hosting tours” Alucard chuckles. You blushed as you kicked yourself for having asked such a stupid question. Unfortunately, it was not the last, but as the conversation between the two of you progressed, you found his biting sarcasm to be…entertaining? Clearly, the man was just as (if not more) entertained by you. From the sneaking glances at his spectacles, hints of amusement expressed itself through the veiled outlines of his eyes.

“Say, earlier when we were talking about that painting, you mentioned something about how humans are ‘fascinating’...” His strong jaw tilted to give you a cryptic expression. The corners of his eyes crinkled in delight as his cheshire smile welded together to tease a truth not yet privy to you. “Yes, and what of it?”

Swirling sunset eyes met with yours. Questions went unsaid and the impossibility of his eye’s inhuman color went unattended to by your psyche. Drawn to his preternatural beauty like a moth to a flame, your delicate digits found respite along the cool angles of Alucard's jaw; his long arms wrapped around your delicate waist in turn.

The satisfied gleam in his eyes turned a bright vermillion, though this did not register to you. After all, how could it when the point of his nose felt so good against the curve of your neck? How could anything matter when the light feather kisses along the new trail of bruises felt so right? You were floating on a fluffy cloud. You leaned in more to seek the comfort of his tongue's girth as he further suckled upon your skin. Pads of your breasts being kneaded was the button needed to release the breathy moan that escaped from your lips. You ached with need, he could smell it. A whine escaped from your lips as Alucard withdrew slightly, a wicked grin spread across his face as he assessed your feeble state. Your arm tickled at the way his gloved fingers danced along your skin. Your jaw felt good in between his fingers, you thought.

“My dear, you wished to know what I meant when I spoke of humanity…Do you still want to know?” It was unfair really. How could you possibly answer such a thing when he was toying with your body like this? When his large hands dared to roam under the fabric of your clothes and to your heat? When his tall nose tickled its way so sweetly along the surface of your cheek until his lips could reach the shell of your ear to continue whispering sweet temptations? Bent sinfully, the Vampire King sampled more of your flavor, though careful not to break any skin—Yet.

“Why do you reject it? Why deny yourself ? Sweet thing, allow me to show you the pleasures of surrender.” 'That... Maybe that wouldn't be so bad...', your mind drifts. The ghost of affirmation clung to your lips by a finger. That shouldn't be a problem, right?

“Is that a problem?” Your mind thought back to that woman..

Blood, as Alucard has learned over the centuries, tasted better when given freely. He just needed the word. He began to coo at you, sure that his prize was soon to be had. Your eyebrows knitted together and your hands reached to push at Alucard's broad shoulders. From your periphery, true would be found. His teeth…His eyes…You couldn't even recall when he'd taken off his glasses…

He's going to kill you, isn't he? Your first day on the job... Will be your last. Though the bulk of your freewill had mostly seeped out and left a vast space for persuasion, the 'bulk of' didn’t mean all. Blunt nails made harsh contact with soft skin. Streaks of scrapped flesh mirrored the streaks of salty water that cascaded down your cheeks. Quickly, reserved defiance turned into a desperate fight for life. Just as quickly, however, your body tired and could no longer accommodate your frantic attempts. Your mind followed suit when the previous bloody tears against pale flesh sealed; leaving no sign of damage behind. “H-help!” It seemed that no such thing would come. Worse than before, the echoes of your voice did nothing to salve the desperate disposition of your nerves. You were truly alone…Never had a smile looked so sickening.

You weren't going to win. Whoever this is, whatever this is, was going to kill you and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Please... Make it quick” Alucard, at your words, sniffed in disgust. His initial features of surprise quickly turned into an acrid distaste. Suddenly, the rotten blood of ghouls would be more preferable than the presence of a coward. Humans who were so willing to just forfeit their life...

"Disgusting," Alucard spits out, recoiling as if offered a meal of festered meat and a chalice of pus. Disdain etches itself onto his angular features, a look of utter contempt. His venomous glare pierced through you, freezing your very soul. Though “free”, you were not sure if you were better off in this situation or the former. Meek human eyes locked gazes with hot coals from the depths of hell.

“BACK AWAY FROM THE GIRL OR WE WILL BE FORCED TO SHOOT!"

The man in the familiar tactical gear,‘Birminghamman’, you vaguely recall, shouts as he points his firearm at the haunting figure. The presence of another human did not, unfortunately, improve your spirits. In fact, the presence of more bodies and more guns made the situation ironically more tense. Red eyes laid no heed to the crowd forming around the spectacle; it's attention only on you.

There was no other form of acknowledgement other than a mere scoff. The specter of a man swiveled on booted heels and was welcomed by the darker expanse of the hallway. Crimson lined shadows retreated, leaving nothing but dotted black plumes in its wake.

Birmingham was the last to lower his gun. "M-miss, are you alright?” You really weren't sure how to answer that question. Were you okay? “Listen, if you need to go to the infirmar—”, You recoiled at his reassuring gesture, only able to stare back owlishly.

You were told everything.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Do you think Gabriel's writing flaws were meant to be intentional character flaws?

It really depends on which flaw you're referring to. Some seem accidental, some seem intentional, and some are the result of the show's formulaic nature (and arguably the writers' skills) holding him back.

Let's start with an example of that last point: Gabriel squanders opportunities left and right while creating the most asinine plans you can think of and only wins in the season four and five finals because of sheer dumb luck. In spite of this, I think that he is genuinely supposed to be seen as clever and creative. That's why you get Nathalie spouting lines like this one from Catalyst:

Nathalie: As predicted, [Lila's] anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir.

And this one from Risk:

Gabriel: Ladybug never makes a mistake! Nathalie: Neither do you.

And a whole host of other moments from seasons three and four where Nathalie just straight up fawns over Gabriel's brilliance. Even in season five, she still seems to think that he's a genius, she just wants him to give up on winning to spend his final days with Adrien.

You don't write that kind of dialogue unless Gabriel is supposed to be smart or Nathalie is supposed to be a bit of a fool (or, at the very least, someone blinded by love). I think it's pretty clear that Nathalie is not supposed to come across as lacking in the intelligence department and her admiration continues after her "redemption", so the most logical conclusion here is that Gabriel is supposed to be a smart villain. We're supposed to think that he makes really cool and intelligent plans.

The problem is that, if Gabriel was smart, then he'd have won ages ago. The butterfly is simply too powerful for him to lose. If you want to play him as a genuine threat, but also keep his losses believable, then - at the very least - you have to majorly nerf the butterfly. You also need to let him actually plan and scheme, setting up future akuma victims over multiple episodes before they come to fruition. Due to the show's format, we rarely get this. I think that Scarlet Moth and Miracle Queen are the only real exceptions. While they're the rare exceptions, I will note that their existence also backs this "Gabriel is supposed to be smart" read, the formula just doesn't allow him to come across that way.

This issue is why formula shows favor serious one-off villains that get defeated by the episode's end or non-threatening over-the-top comedic villains that return time and time again. For an example of the first, think the antagonists in crime serials like NICS or Sherlock Holmes stories and for the later think of pretty much every villain in Kim Possible or Dr. Doofenshmirtz from Phineas and Ferb.

The reason why formula shows take these paths is that it's genuinely difficult to have a villain that shows up every week and never wins, but who also feels like a true threat. At some point, the villain starts feeling incompetent because they're the ones making the plans. The puzzle masters. That puts them at a strong advantage. For a smart Gabriel to work, the show would need to be way less formulaic and/or his story would need to be much shorter. The butterfly nerf is also a must in my book.

In my intro, I also mentioned unintentional flaws. When I said that, I was primarily referring to the child abuse and Gabriel's general attitude toward his son. The writers seem to be genuinely oblivious to how badly Gabriel came across as the show went on. In the first season or two, I could have given the writers some grace on this topic as Gabriel's behavior could be argued as the cartoonish exaggeration of an overprotective-but-not-abusive parent just like Marinette's parents get to be cartoonishly loving at times and Marinette's crush is cartoonishly over-the-top.

We also had moments like the end of Gorizilla and Style Queen which gave Gabriel a chance to show off his love for Adrien and give it some real narrative weight. After Chat Blanc, that grace was gone and the show would continue to paint Gabriel as worse and worse right up until the season five final where all that terrible behavior culminated in Gabriel... getting a happy ending?

While it's always possible that later seasons will actually address Gabriel's abuse, it's pretty hard to come back from an ending that let him ascend into the light with his wife while smiling and perfectly at peace. That's not the ending that you give to a black-hearted villain who views his son as nothing more than a tool. The only logical read here is that Gabriel was supposed to be sympathetic and he was supposed to love Adrien, just not enough to pick Adrien over Emilie. Why heal yourself and be with your son when you can just die so that you don't have to live without your wife? What a positive and uplifting message for children!

To finish this up, let's quickly touch on the intentional flaws. There are mostly the things that even a five-year-old could pick up on because that is the show's target audience. Gabriel's arrogance, his unwillingness to give up, and his inability to see other points of view are very clearly meant to be his true flaws. He's also apparently supposed to be a creative contrast to Marinette with him being cold mass-production and her being individualism, but the writers kind of forgot to put that into the show. I think Marinette gets five designs and Gabriel gets two, making it somewhat difficult to see one as a font of individuality and one as an evil, mass-market fast-fashion producer. I'm not even sure what kind of fashion Gabriel creates!

In conclusion, Gabriel is as much of an inconsistent mess as Marinette is, which is unsurprising since they're arguably the two main characters. The ones with key roles in basically every episode. That meant that they had to warp and twist Gabriel to make the akuma of the day work even if that akuma made Gabriel look like a monster by doing things like attacking Adrien. It's just a variant of the way they had to warp Marinette into being wrong even if she really wasn't or if it went against her established character. This makes it hard to pick up on the "true" Gabriel, but I've always been of the opinion that he's supposed to read as a smart, sympathetic villain who loves his family, but is driven to evil by grief and an unwillingness to move on. The ending just sealed that read for me even though I 100% agree that this is not the character that they actually wrote. It's just who they clearly wanted to write.

[astolfofo]

I lowkey kinda feel like writing smth for dr ratio but take this idea for now:

Revisited the 36 questions musical (music in it is so banger my god). Imagine you're one of dr. ratio's old classmates. An academic rival if you will. You part ways with him after high school. You could not imagine going to a university with him. You pity the poor students that do.

But he does come back into your life. You've seen him occasionally at your job. YOu do your best to ignore him, treat him like you would with any other colleague that you might have known. At an arm's length. You're not friends with any of them. You certainty would not treat him with more kindness than you would with any other person. Suffice to say, although petty, you had never gotten over how he was just always just barely a mark or two above you.

That was until you realized that the distance between you two was so great, that he was now your boss. You found out he was a professor in a university through the grapevine of your coworkers who can't stop swooning over him. You tried to ignore them, focus on your work, but today, they were loudly announcing that he was going to be the manager of your department. Strange, you think to yourself. He had never seemed to have an interest in your line of work. He had always been highly theoretical. You had turn to be highly practical. He was one meant for the sciences, while you could only surmount to doing practical application. You'd have imagined he would be doing things that were beyond what the mundane could comprehend. He shouldn't be here.

But he was.

WHILE being a professor at one of the top universities. Countless accomplishments, probably a wall full of certificates and awards. You had grown not to care about things like that. But it still felt that he was invading the one thing you were good at. Still though, you wouldn't let it bother you. In the worst case, you'd switch companies, maybe move somewhere else and he wouldn't be a problem anymore.

But Dr. Ratio seems to have different ideas. Management under his hand was very different. You were immidieately promoted to the highest rank, below manager. Much to your distaste, you had told him multiple times to promote one of your coworkers. They had much better qualifications for becoming a manager than you did. But alas, your protests always came to deaf ears.

Suddenly you were crushed by work, tons of pressure, and under his scrutiny. He was a big fan of doing big, risky projects. Ones that you'd always be responsible for if you failed. You'd try to politely deny his requests, but he'd insist, threatening that you'd be fired if you didn't pull through.

At one point you had just had enough.

You coldly place your resignation onto his desk. The box of your belongings was balanced between your hand and your knees.

"What is the meaning of this?"

"My resignation. I'm leaving." You say simply. "Don't try to convince me to stay. Working under you is simply not something I am suited for."

He seems uninterested. He raises an eyebrow at you. "Is that so? I was under the impression that you were doing quite well."

You didn't know whether you wanted to laugh or scream in that second. You were sure your hair was going to turn half-white before he picked up a goddamn clue. You suppose passing out three times and looking like you had your eyes punched wasn't a strong enough indicator.

"Ah... well... I'm flattered you think that way, but I really think it's time for me to move on...."

"And your plan after this is...?"

"Oh. Maybe work at someplace else." You lie, "I have a few options I can choose from, I'll probably end up working at one of those."

Dr. Ratio looks at your face, and then looks up and down. You stand there akwardly waiting for his approval to leave. You began counting down seconds. If he wasn't going to let you leave in the next two minutes, you'd walk out the door yourself.

"Why don't we sit down and talk first? Before you leave."

What? "Oh no sir.. it's fine... really..."

"It's been a few years since we've last seen each other and talked, hasn't it? I was wondering when you were going to approach me again. It's just a shame it's in this way."

He turns around and puts the sheet of paper into the shredder. You look back at him wide-eyed, debating on whether you would just walk straight out.

"Why don't you set your things aside? Maybe put them back on your desk? It's not like you'll be leaving soon. Unless you want to retire now?"

You open your mouth preparing to yell every curse word you can at him.

"Save your insults for later. Now tell me why you pretended not to recognize me for the past year I've worked here."

[everlastingdream]

Part 1 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

"Look, it's not like I didn't believe you, but woah", Winn said, gaping. Alex silently nodded in agreement.

"Thank you all for helping me", Lena smiled warmly, still a bit shy now that everyone suddenly saw her.

"Em, yeah, sorry, Lena, there is a catch", Winn winced, rubbing back of his head sheepishly. "We kinda can't hear you. Because you speak so quietly that only Kara's ears can catch it, so if I make you loud enough for us..."

Lena tilted her head, thinking for a bit. She signaled Kara to relay her words.

"But it's not like all sounds are deafening for Kara", it was strange to talk about herself like that, "So it means there is some biological adjustments for her hearing".

"Of course, but I didn't want fo experiment with something that could potentially end very bad".

Lena and Winn traded ideas back and forth, already creating precautions, when Alex interrupted them, looking amused.

"Sorry to stop you both from nerding out but J'onn said we can just talk in the red lamp room. It will solve all your problems, no?"

Two geniuses meekly nodded.

"This way, miss Luthor". J'onn smiled and gestured to the coridor.

/ / / / / / / / /

Winn (with Lena right behind his shoulder) inserted some new parameters into his tablet, once they settled in the red sun lamps' room. And when he nodded to Lena, she said tentatively:

"Thank you all for your help", she smiled.

"I'm glad to help fellow genius", Winn happily answered. "Now we just need to..."

"Find my body, yes", Alex and Winn winced. Kara stared at the floor, trying not to see Lena's face, as she was talking about it.

"Yes, that. But we need to do one very important thing first".

Everyone glanced at each other with confusion. J'onn seemed to know what's that already, but he still looked relaxed, so Kara and Alex just waited till Winn's desire for dramatics was satisfied.

"We need to introduce ourselves!" Lena laughed, and wobbled in the air a little. It seemed that being visible didn't take away her ghostly powers. And while Winn was listing all his accomplishments, Kara found herself thinking.

Lena looked much more real now. Even without her powers Kara could see tiny freckles lining up on the side of her neck. Red lamps gave her green eyes mysterious glow, making Lena look ephemeral in a way that didn't have anything with the her status of a ghost.

It pained Kara so much to see her like that. Like she would be soft and warm to the touch, like she could really hug Kara or pat her cheek, like they need to just save her and not to retrieve her body.

Still Kara couldn't help but reach out hoping against everything that the fact that everyone can see Lena meant she can touch her.

When her hand went right through the edge of Lena's jacket, Kara tried very hard to hide her disappointment, but she still caught J'onn's sympathetic smile.

"So... You are the woman my sister is seeing", Alex asked strictly, and Lena chocked on the words she exchanged with Winn.

"I- Well, technically... I guess I am..?" It was adorable to see Lena suddenly fumbling with words, and Kara decided to play the knight despite her own embarrassment.

"Alex", she shook her head, exasperated. "Don't mess with Lena".

"What? She is," Alex shrugged, but finally smiled. "It's not like I said anything wrong. And here you are, already nagging me".

"This is Agent Danvers, Supergirl's foster sister", J'onn intervened, when Kara opened her mouth to bicker. "We are currently in DEO, department of extra-normal operations. And I am its Director - J'onn J'onzz."

"It's good to meet you, sir", Lena nodded.

"Likewise. I promise, that DEO will do everything to secure your body and will protect it until we can hand it over to miss Arias".

"I... appreciate it."

Room grew somber. When Winn's tablet chimed, he scattered to read it, if only to avoid awkward atmosphere.

"Miss Arias send us the information".

"It was fast", Alex said, already scanning the data from behind his shoulder.

"Well, she had a password. I will put it over our map".

They gathered around small tablet, looking at the area north of National city. Lena's coordinats, the green dot on the screen, was constantly changing as the map adjusted, only to stop right above the red mark.

"It's a Cadmus base", J'onn said grimly and stood up, already giving out commands to the agents by his communication device.

"This one is Lilian Luthor's", Alex sighed and joined her director in getting ready. They didn't seem hurried, since they will have to wait until Kara restores her powers.

"I guess she's one of my relatives?" Lena asked carefully.

"Your adoptive mother, to be precise", Winn was already putting dossier up front.

He started to recount his files to Lena, but Kara, tense after mention of Cadmus and as attuned to Lena as she is, felt that something was wrong.

Lena was pale. She always had a bit of white hue when Kara was the only one to see her, but now even with Winn's invention she was almost transperent.

"It's her. This is the woman I talked with, when my car crushed". Lena's voice was detached and angry, her hands clenched. When she turned to look at Kara, her voice cracked in the middle. "She wanted to kill me".

[deldaydreams]

Mafia au/Good luck while running away from mafia

intro , part 0.5 , part 1 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 , part 6

Notes: Hello its been a while . First of all its little longer ususal but I hope you like it. And because of some health issues and some personal stuff I couldnt post anything. I'll try to post whever I have time.

Tags: @morokumi , @hrhqueenfox , @hasty-desert , @oceanside-pixie , @lianreine ,@h3apm3ch4n151m, @cecilebutcher, @ayachansan

Warning: my poor English, gn reader, fight scenes , running away from yandere ...

As you did the paperwork that Leona should have done but didn't, your eye fell on Leona's phone. Someone has been texting nonstop for the last 15 minutes. Whoever texted finally called. It was Vil. You took the phone to Leona. Disturbed by his sleep interruption, the executive of Savanaclaw answered the call and gestured for you to leave. You thought 'weird'. Meeting of executives who don't like each other to death.

"Leona-san, is there a problem sir? May I ask why Vil-san called you?" you asked. "It's not a big deal. You don't need to know."

"Is that so."

-

You gripped the steering wheel tightly. Your hands were shaking with adrenaline because of that fight at the restaurant an hour ago. They found you. Of course they did, but you were so used to your life in this last 1 month that you were taken by surprise for a moment. You should have cleared your mind now. Heartslabyul had already attacked. You could be attacked at any time. You should have been on the alert.

"Well, Y/N pack yourself up. You know them, they know you. There must be a way out. They probably have their men stationed at all the entrances and exits of the city. So it's almost impossible to get out of here without getting caught." you thought.

You opened the glove box. The situation was dire. Since you came to work with Alex this morning, you forgot that you 'cleaned' the car. "Damn" you cursed. All you had now were 3 bullets, a gun , an electroshock device, two morning sandwiches and some cash.It didn't seem like enough for an escape at all. 'I could have gone home and stocked up on some supplies and ammo, but since they found my work place, they probably found the house too. ' you thought. Your thoughts were interrupted by the vibration from your phone. The alarm of the security system you installed in your house was going on. When you looked at the cameras you saw 3 familiar face. You'll recognize those green predatory eyes wherever you see them. "Leona-san."

-

"Looks like the little herbivore has put some little toys in here, huh. Ruggie, turn those alarms off, they're too loud." said Leona as he surveyed the house.

"Leona-san, I told you to sneak in. It was obvious that someone like Y/N-shii was going to install a security system in the house. Now we've cleared our spot." Ruggie whined as he searched for the shutdown system. "Leona-san, what are you trying to do, sir?" ' Jack asked the reclining department manager. " Don't worry , They will come." said Leona lazily. "After all, they have no choice ."

-

"I don't have a better option than this." you sighed.

According to the cameras around the house, there were no men around. You did not know the position of the other executives. But looking at all your years in the mafia, one of the things you knew was that departments weren't going to work together to catch you. Leona was trying to get you on your feet by knowing your current situation, and it seemed like it was the best choice.

You checked inside the cameras one last time. Ruggie and Leona were in the Hall at the entrance, while Jack stood guard in the garage. "Damn, I wish I had a secret passage to the house." you said. Getting Jack first seemed like the best option to get in. "I'm on my really unlucky day… against two different departments in one night, huh."

-

Jack was lost in thought. He was thinking of you as he paced the garage. A month and a half ago, he suddenly couldn't reach you, then found out that you had left the mafia. Why did you leave, what was your reason? Why didn't you say anything to him? Jack felt betrayed. He paused with a small click. The garage door was slightly ajar. You jumped on him before he knew what was going on. You attacked him before he could come to him because of the blow he received and you used the electroshock device. "Sorry Jack." you said while tying it. "But while hunting, always pay attention to the hunt, otherwise you will be the hunted while you are the hunter." you said. Those were the words he said to you when you first went on a mission with Leona. You took the remaining strings and took one last look at Jack and locked the door on him.

-

"Ah~ all the hustle and bustle made me pretty hungry." said Ruggie, taking a bite of the donut he found in the fridge. "But you have to give it credit. Y/N-shii really tried hard. Security systems, cameras. soundproof walls… Who knows what else is in here , right Leona-san?" ' Ruggie asked the man lying in the armchair a few feet away. But the only response that came was a vague grunt. "Oh really, I'm going to Jack's. Call me if you need anything."

Ruggie began muttering to himself as he made his way down the hall. "This soundproofing thing really sucks. I feel like I'm in a horror movie." When he finally reached the garage door, he paused. There was something amiss. The door was locked. "Jack?" 'Oh no!' and with a sharp blow his vision darkened.

'I am indebted to the awful assassination training I received in Pormefiore.' you thought as you tied Ruggie. If Rook saw you in this state, he would surely utter some French nonsense and cry out of delight.

'last hunt' you thought. You had no chance to surprise attack this time, the fight was inevitable.

"You came." said Leona, his back to you as he sat on the sofa. He slowly turned his face towards you and grinned like a hunter playing with his prey. You pointed your gun at him. "Ah~ really, how cold you are. But I wouldn't do that if I were you." he said You looked at the table in the middle of the sofa set, Leona had found all your ammo. Then suddenly he stood up. "Don't you dare do anything wrong, otherwise-" "What," he interrupted. "Are you going to shoot me?" You didn't reply. "You know, I've been thinking a lot about why you left the mafia." He took a step towards you. "After all, you suddenly disappeared without any of us knowing. It was okay, we were very close." He took two more steps. "Don't Approach!" you warned. "Then why? You either wanted a normal life or -" "I said don't Approach !" and you pulled the trigger. Leona fell to the ground with the blow. First a few seconds of deep silence, then a chilling laugh. "Do you really think I'm not prepared for such situations?" he said. Before you could take your guard on, he made a move towards your gun and your gun fell to the ground. "Things might be more comfortable for you if you surrendered easily." said Leona, like a parent scolding his child. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen counter, but Leona grabbed you by the wrists and prevented you from attacking.

"You were supposed to behave yourself when you realized everything. Not running away stupidly." he said, tightening his grip.

You grit your teeth, You hit him in the face with your head. With this unexpected blow, Leona staggered backwards. With your freed hands, you took a handful of black pepper from the Black Pepper jar on the table and punched him in the face with your black pepper-filled fist. Roaring with pain from the dust in his eyes, Leona tried to attack you, but you got ahead of him and activated the booby traps. and Leona suddenly found himself in a ditch.

"You underestimated me, Leona-san. Remember, this is my territory. Even lions can be prey in the territory of the ridges when they are alone."

Without wasting any time, you started filling a bag with supplies and ammo. Meanwhile, Leona's phone started ringing. You picked up the phone on the table and saw the calling number,it was Boss.

"Hello Y/N, how are you?"

You didn't answer. Your old boss, Dire Crowley, was talking as usual as if nothing had happened.

"First of all, congratulations, defeating two of my managers in one night is not easy for everyone." You locked the door of the house while he was talking.

"You know, I'm a very generous person. That's why I wanted to let you know that the arrest warrant has been taken against you and that the whole mafia is after you." '

Oh, what a generosity. Like I didn't know this." you thought.

"But remember, I'm on your side. If you can escape from all, I'll give you your freedom."

"What if I Lose?"

"Then we both know what will happen." And the phone has turned off.

-

"Agh! I was so sure the Kingscholar would catch them." groaned former Savanaclaw manager Ashton Vargas. "But he didn't catch them. You've lost the bet so please let me demand the money." Sam smiled. "It was unexpected even for Y/N." said Trein, taking a sip of his tea. "Would you like to change your bets on who will win?" Sam offered. He grinned mischievously as he pocketed the check from Vargas. "The rightfully of what we're doing is debatable, but it looks like it'll be fun. A little fun never hurt anyone." said Crowley. While looking at Crewel, who is silently watching outside. "Okay, then let me take your bets."