#sorry if this seems unorganized

[leavingsunsets]

Heyy!! I hope you're doing good 😎

Could I request a Ryusui x reader where the reader is his complete opposite ? She is more on the introverted side, prefers to be alone, socially awkard,not really confident and pretty insecure...

But yeah, she could not accept Ryusui's advances bc of how insecure she is, thinking he is just flirting with everyone as always haha and that they are opposite so its not gonna work lol

sorry if that's extra specific lol I hope it was understandable as english is not my first language !

Thank you and have a great day !! 😍

Again, thank you for requesting !! No need to be sorry, as being specific helps me actually have a guide on what to write abt !! Anyways, here u go... u have a great day or night too pokie !

"𝔏𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔬𝔫."

[𝖱𝗒𝗎𝗌𝗎𝗂 𝖭𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗂 𝗑 𝖿!𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋]

The distant sound of waves, and bubbling foam with every splash that lapped against the shore. It flowed against your ankles, dragging the sand with it. Warm.

You tilt your gaze up, and catch sight of the white clouds, only floating lazily above. It felt like a summer trance, where the sun was too bright, and skin too sweaty. Maybe for a moment, you could pretend you were somewhere else.

But before you could even close your eyes, the voice of a familiar captain slips through your sweet daydream.

"[name]!" Ryusui calls out, trudging through the border that fades from grass to sand. Surprised, you snap out of it, acknowledging him back politely.

"Ryu. Hi," you mutter, staring back at the sea. "I thought you were busy with the ship."

The blond hums, slowing his pace. "I was, but I also came to check on you," he places a hand over his peaked cap. "I was wondering where our favorite singer went."

You shoot him a weak smile. "Just taking a break from the others. You know how I am."

He huffs, amused as he stops by your side, enjoying the view. "Some of them are quite the character, aren't they? I think I can still hear Taiju's battle cry from here."

"Like," you snort, "like you aren't as loud."

"True. I am. Does it bother you?" He grins.

"No, no. Of course not," you shake your head, smile turning shy. "I don't really mind if it's you."

"Ooh, very biased, aren't you?" his tone lilts teasingly, "I must be special."

Flushing, you brush it off, hand coming up to rub at your neck. "When are you not, really," you mumble.

"Is this a confession?" Brown eyes gleam, gaze lain on you.

"Wha-" your face erupts in an embarrassed red. "Now that's just too direct!" you sputter out. Goodness. You've always loved his honesty, but it's the bane of you sometimes.

"You're very special to me too, [name]." The corner of his lips quirk, as his expression grows cheeky. "Very much so."

Blush dying down, you shake your head, "No. No, I meant it in a different way." Feeling a little ashamed, you look elsewhere from him, turning your sight back to the sea. You focus on something else, like how the warm water envelops the shore in frothy patterns.

Sand crunches as he shifts. Maybe you should've redirected the conversation to something else. The momentary silence prods at your nerves. Was he basking in the sun?

"You know I like you, right, [name]?" His voice is oddly placid, taking you by surprise. However, the compliment is quick to slide off you.

"I know, I know. The whole 'beautiful creatures' thing." Memories of his little speech come to mind, and you chuckle in humor. Eyes follow the distant sight of seagulls far into the sky.

"That's true, and I don't take back what I said," he replies, and takes a step forward. "But I desire you."

A skip of a beat. Yet, it's so easy to brush off, as you've always done. An awkward laugh bubbles out. "Ryu, I-"

"Je t'aime. Jeg elsker dig. Te amo," he steps close, taking your attention in a bold move. Grabbing your chin, he turns your face towards him. "Ik houd van je, I love you."

Finally, you get to see him in all the sun's glory. A determined gleam in his eyes, honed in on you. Any words you planned, dried out out on your tongue.

"I believe I've made myself clear," he says, oh so casually. For a moment, you stare, shocked, and speechless. Reply, reply, you need to reply, or anything- answer him!

"...I didn't know you could speak Swedish."

...Damn it.

Ryusui chuckles, letting go of your chin. "It's hot out here! How long have you been standing?" Brushing off his sleeve, he adjusts his cap.

In your mind, you're internally screaming.

Ryusui? Ryusui Nanami just professed to you. Something you hadn't even imagined in 10 years or so, if you haven't decided to actively pursue him. RYU. What did he even see in you? What pushed him to confess, TODAY?

"Come on, let's go back." he holds out his hand, so lightheartedly. The blond is so casual about this, so, so casual. How could he be after admitting his feelings?

But then again, Ryu was always this affectionate you, wasn't he? Memories flood into your mind, of every gesture, every glance. Did everything lead up to here, or was this another misunderstanding?

Looking at him, so brightly shining, you can't help but decide to let your worries, the thoughts that cling you down, let go for a minute.

"Yeah. Let's go," you mutter, taking his hand.

The sounds of the crashing waves grow distant with every step. Your chest hums, heart buzzing with a newfound warmth.

[margosbargo]

MIKE OBVIOUSLY NOTICED

Mike gets a lot of hate about that blink-and-you’ll-miss-it glance, the glance where will is crying and Mike just looks at him and acts like nothing happened!

But that isn’t what’s actually going on at all!

They say that he is either oblivious and doesn’t notice anything or he was just an asshole who didn’t care about his best friend.

But it’s neither.

See here, pre season four, max gets a nose bleed and Mike notices that somethings wrong. He notices that she is having a nose bleed.

And here, I’m season three, will can feel the mind flayer. And even though they should all be paying attention to the movie, mike notices that’s something wrong. He notices that will is scared and looks like he’s just seen a ghost!

So now we know that the possibility of mike being oblivious is out of the picture, 0% possibility.

But what about the possibility of him just being a jerk.

Well there’s just no way!

We can see in this scene from season 4 that Mike really cares about will. He cares about him enough to rephrase his statement twice to get it right.

“Team” hmmm “friends” ehhh “best friends” yea, that’s right. (Or is it)

Mike cares about Will! There is no way he would just “ignore” him crying!

Unless he had a reason too.

And that brings me to my point, the real reason why Mike didn’t comfort will when he was crying in the van.

Because he was crying in a van! A van where there was still Jonathan and argyle sitting right in front of them!

And he was clearly trying to hide the fact that he was crying, hence the hand over the mouth!

Imagine how awkward it would be to try and comfort will if

1 you don’t know why he’s crying,

2 you’re just barely behind of Jonathan and argyle,

3 he was trying to hid the fact that he was crying!

So ya, mike noticed that will was crying. He’s most likely just going to mention it when he gets alone time with will. (Which he hasn’t yet!)

mike who noticed will “was quiet today” and who noticed him rolling his eyes and moping all day and “sabotaging the whole thing” didn’t notice will crying right next to him in a compacted van while they both shared the back seats? yeah, ok.

[rqnarok]

ANIMALS | old man!logan x fem!reader

summary: old man!logan catches you trying to finger yourself on his bed...

cws/tags: smut, mdni! literally porn w/o plot. old man!logan. fem!reader. daddy kink. exhibitionsm kink. unspecified age gap. petnames (kid, darlin’, baby, etc). logan calls himself ‘old man’. oral (f receiving). not proofread. wc: 2k

Logan can’t stand you. 

Ever since you enrolled as Charles’ caregiver, you’ve been a little bug crawling on his skin–itching him in bits.

Logan fucking hates how your generation seems to put so much trust in life like it isn’t all absurdity. He despises how you always seem to be bubbly all the time; breathlessly giggling at the unfunniest shit he had ever watched in his life. He loathes your eagerness to make him smile or laugh - he detests you and your youth. 

Or so that’s what he’s been telling himself.

Logan puts all these decoys to bury what he truly feels under the soil–like he always does throughout his life. Tries to hide how his stomach flutters when you tend his wounds, or simply when you get close to him. It suffocates him, you. 

You who cooks the very luscious foods for him and Charles every living day–you who take care of Logan as he has his occurring nightmares–you, who is the life he needed all along. 

You who had him ashamed of himself when he thought of thoughts of you. Visions of your beautiful figure flustering under Logan. He bet you were soft under those clothes, every inch of you. Bet you smelled better if he got nearer. 

So there you have it, false pretense. 

Deep down, he knows he’s doing everything for the sake of you. Including this week, when he has to stay in Texas for a few days just to earn extra pennies–again, for you. That’s why he got your picture patched in the car rear-view mirror, after all. 

Today, because of several reasons he had not expected, Logan went home a day earlier than what he told you. 

When he got home, by home he meant an abandoned smelting plant in Northern Mexico - he thought you were already tucked in your sheets, deep in a slumber. 

Oh, he was wrong because when he gets in front of his own bedroom door, it was slightly open with the sound of sighing now and then. He vaguely creaks the door open to paint a bigger picture of what’s inside as he hears another sigh, no, a moan.

Logan swears his breath got stuck in his throat when he catches the sight of you. Your eyelids shut tightly as your body jerked under the covers, another noise escaping your faintly gaping lips. He also notes the slow bumps and bulges in the sheets, moving in a repeated pattern of up and down–your head thrown back almost hitting the headboard. 

Are you touching yourself in his fuckin’ bed? His nostrils fumed. 

He called your name.

No reaction. 

“Kid.”

Logan enters the dim room and gives the bed a light shake. 

His act makes you yelp and jolt in surprise; sitting as much as you could in the unorganized space - your hair configured messily - cheeks flushed red. Your bottom lip was red and swollen as if you had bitten something fierce. 

With doe-eyes, you devour the sight of the man before you: Logan in his old white tank top, his belt loosened, his graying beard complemented his face so perfectly, and lastly, his deceitful expression. 

“What ‘re you doin’, huh?”

Gulping down your own spit, you shrank in on yourself, “L-Logan! I-I’m sorry! I cannot sleep… it’s just - your sheets. The- They smelled so nice. Smelled like you.” You find yourself spiraling in this humiliating situation, “You’re h-home.”

Logan’s eyes glance down into your nightgown, then to the bulge in the covers. Your hands, he supposed. 

Fuck it, he thought. Logan is already sure he’s going to hell after all. Why not grab a sweet treat to pile it onto his stack of sins?

“Show me what you were doin’.” His voice is deep as he gives the order, making you shiver in arousal. 

Still, with utter shyness, you kick the covers to reveal your body. You showed the full piece of your sheer nightgown - your white cotton panties shoved down to your thighs - your hands placed on top of your pussy, which was wet and leaking onto his sheets. 

Logan stared at you for a moment then lurked forward. Oh, you could see he was starting to bulge up too. 

“Keep goin’.” 

The high-pitched noise that left you was embarrassing but it did not stop you from doing what you’re told. How can you? When the man you had been crushing on, your employer, is looking down at you as if you’re his last meal. 

You pull your legs up as much as you can, before inserting your finger back into your wet hole, letting your eyes linger on Logan’s face. With his aging lines, he looks more angry and grumpy, brows furrowed and nose wrinkled. Beyond that, he’s focused on where your hand moved. It was so hot—you had never experienced something like this and it felt amazing—but it was not enough. 

“A-ah, please. Help– I need–” You let out a plea as you try to run your thumb over your puffy clit. You moan; pleasure rushed through you like a strike of electricity, gasping and keening.

Logan’s head falls forward, as if surrendering. Really, fuck it. He can’t hold back anymore. 

After a moment, he gets on the bed–making it let out a noise as he gets closer and closer, “Wha’s that, baby? Ya’ need more?” Logan grabs you by the hips and drags you closer to him, “Need Daddy’s fingers, ‘s that it?”’ 

“Y-yeah! Need you, so so bad.” The tips of his fingers rubbing your inner thighs and the ghosting feel of his hot breath make you lose any of your critical thinking. Burning your cheeks even warmer than they already were. 

Logan gets harder as he wonders how many times you have been doing this before. Trying to finger yourself on his bed while he was away—while he was earning money for you.   

A ‘mhm’ is all he grumbled out before his mouth was on your pussy, lapping at your labia and you cry out for the hundredth time.

“Ah!” There you finally understand why everyone was all in a rage about getting eaten out. This is everything, indeed. 

”Dirty fuckin’ girl. Touching herself in an old man’s bed.” Hearing him, you look down to grab a handful of Logan’s turning gray hair and hike up your nightgown even more as Logan’s tongue pushes inside you. Literally, devouring you. 

“L-Logan- ’M gon’ cum! ‘M cumming!”

The older man hums in response, squeezing your plump thighs—feeling like a goddamn animal. Your back arches on the mattress while one of his hands creeps up to fondle your breast, and you explode. 

He could feel your cum drizzling out and even got some of it on his scruffy beard. The world is still spinning around you but he does not give you a chance to rest. Logan shoves your legs higher and places kisses on your sensitive button. “Logan…”

“Not my name, sweet’art.” You cry out when you feel one of his fingers pushing into your hole - how it barely fuckin’ fits makes your body tremble with all the pleasure coursing through your veins.

He chuckles in glory as he glances up at your teary-eyed expression, still pushing his finger into reaching deeper, “Yeah- Your fingers too small?” Logan reads you so easily, “Need Daddy’s fingers to the job, huh?” He murmured, teasing his tongue around where his finger stretched you. 

When he bobs his head up, you can see how his beard is glistening with your slick under the moonlight, “Y’sure you want this, kid?”

“Y-yeah!” You said embarrassingly quickly. But oh, little do you know, this is the best thing in Logan’s life. 

Logan is breathing hard as he gets out of his clothes, nodding and grinning at you, “Been wantin’ do to this f’r a while.” 

You gasp when he climbs after you, spreading himself out above you, “Y-you do?” 

Legs wrapping around him, the both of you slid together against each other and Logan finally kissed you.

His tongue wrestled around your mouth, nipping and licking—ravaging you so sweetly, “Y’ve no idea.” You could feel his fingers probing at your heat. They pressed inside gently, only the tips of it, teasing you. Making you moan into his lips. 

“D-Daddy- Gimme more, please—” He was about to continue teasing you but hearing you say that word so meekly, gives him a whiplash. 

He groans out strings of curse words before easily manhandling you into a position, “F-Fuck. Daddy’s gon’ give it t’ya.” Logan rolls you into facing the wall—himself behind you. 

“Ya’ like this, darlin’?” You could feel his hips circling, his large cock sliding down between your thighs. He continues nipping at your ear as he rains you with praises, “C’mon. Use your big girl words, baby. Let Daddy hear ya’.”

You can’t even breathe right and end up whimpering in response, “Yeayeayeah… Like it a lot!”

Logan hummed, pleased at your reply—his girl being so fuckin’ obedient, “Aight’ breath for me now. Jus’ let Daddy slip right in? Ya’ want that? Wan’ to make your old man happy?”

Your head bobs erratically as your smaller fingers wrap around his; Logan’s gone, he pushes inside of you with a throaty groan. The head slipped inside easily. You can’t believe how good it feels when he stretches you. As he keeps pushing, his large hands palm your chest and pinch hard your peaking nipples. 

“T-Tha’s it, sweet girl. Take Daddy’s cock.” And you’re gone too, your eyes rolled back while Logan ruts into you in short, sharp motions, easing your figure with kisses to your neck and shoulders.

Tears fall down your cheeks in utter bliss, “Feel s’good, Daddy.” Your whole body is slick with sweat, baby hairs sticking on your forehead, and Logan’s chest is glued to your back. 

He fills you up into the brim and it is almost like you’re overflowing with pleasure. He moves you again so that you feel more comfortable, “Gon’ go little faster, that okay, kid?”

You sob into his pillows and nod, “Yeah… Daddy, please, yeah—”

He pulls out far enough that even the head barely remains inside. Then he drives in deep again. Hard and fast, pounds into you, making your skin slap as your bodies meet. He sets a mean, cruel pace. He slips out so, so slowly, only to thrust in as hard and as fast as the very first time. 

“Ah, fuck, baby, feel so fuckin’ good, so tight on Daddy’s cock,” You blush at how Logan grunts, voice hitching at every thrust. 

Logan presses himself up against you, his chest feeling so impossibly wide and thick on your back. His arms wrapped around your body; one hand toys with your nipples, and the other gives your clit rough, hard jerks, ripping even more pleasure out of you.

“Daddy, Daddy, ah—” you plea while turning your head to watch him with hald-lidded eyes.

“Keep sayin’ it, baby, keep sayin’ that,” Logan growls between kisses and latches into you. “Say it. Tell Daddy who’s fuckin’ this pussy open.”

“Daddy!” You whine louder for him. “Daddy, Da- ah!”

Just as you could feel the orgasm being punched out of you for the second time, Logan growls again, snapping his hips for a few last hard thrusts.

You feel how Logan fills you up as deep as he could, his warm cum stuffing you—cock pulsing as the both of you came, hard. 

Logan falls onto you suddenly, putting all his bulky figure on top of you, the man’s whole body going lax in the after-orgasm bliss. 

The older man huffs over and over; you smile at the sight, you don’t mind at all. His weight feels safe and comforting, protecting you from everything else.

Still, you are relieved when he rolls himself off you. More relieved when his lips finds yours in instant, sensually kissing you—making you know how much you mean to him. 

Though, you are not relieved when he comes to the shameful confrontation. 

“Y’do this often? Touching y’rself on my bed, kid?” 

[sunshine-on-marz]

Bad and better days

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

In which reader is stressed and Hotch is a gift giver.

Lots and lots of fluffy fluf (I’ll proofread later)

Very much inspired by @mariasont s ABSOLUTELY AMAZINGLY WONDERFUL bimbo assistant series that i literally can’t get enough of. If you even remotely enjoy this fic go read hers” series, and if you don’t like this fic, go read her other stuff. It’s worth it I promise!!!

“Sir!” You were practically a blur of pink as you run up to him, well, run as much as you can in your heels.

“Y/N, hi, what on earth could be this worrying-“ he checks his watch “-two minutes before the work day starts” he chuckles softly, an occurrence that seems to become less and less uncommon when you’re around.

“Well, sir, I was filing papers and I got a call- well you got a call which means I got a call which means I walked away from papers and when I stood up they fell on the floor and they’re time sensitive and-“ he cuts you off with gentle hands on your shoulders.

“Y/N do you need me to help you reorganize paperwork?” He asks, smiling softly at your frantic nodding. “Alright, lead the way, slower this time maybe?” He jokes, you laugh, he does his best to memorize the sound (not that he doesn’t already know it by heart). “Yes sir” you nod, turning to walk back to his office. And it really was just one file you’d knocked off the desk, but it wasn’t case paperwork that you could’ve easily picked up and reorganized, it was paperwork for Strauss, detailing a week worth of work in the bureau, along with staff ratings and a couple legal documents.

“I hope you know that this is not at all an inconvenience to me, we all make mistakes, if the biggest slip up this week is an unorganized file, I think we’d have to throw a party” he says, laughing softly, you do the same, the tension falling from your shoulders. “Yea, well, I was nervous to greet you with a screw up” you say, he puts down the papers to look at you.

“Y/N, you’re an amazing assistant, you’re great at your job and the million other things you do far outside of your obligations, this office wouldn’t function without you, I wouldn’t function without you, this-“ he taps the folder “-doesn’t even register as a screw up. Having to turn around the jet last week because Morgan forgot his phone? That was a screw up. JJ emailing a random cop witness statements from an unrelated case? That’s a screw up. You dropping a file? That’s not even a minor inconvenience. You’re alright.” His voice goes back to his normal tone at the end, but the gentleness is still very much there. He’d taken note of your stress the last few days. You’d clearly overworked yourself, something he knew would happen eventually. He was worried.

“Thank you, sir” you say softly.

“Aaron” he corrects. You must’ve looked like he asked you the square root of 43,862.

“I’m sorry?” You ask, your head dipping to the side

“Well I told you on your first day to call me Hotch, and you haven’t, so I’m seeing if telling you to call me Aaron will get you to tone down the formality.” He smiles. You laugh. He smiles harder.

“So should I call you Aaron or Hotch?” You ask, he shrugs.

“You can decide” his voice is even, but he can’t quite calm the grin still plastered to his lips.

“Alright, Aaron” you say, you feel like you broke some unspoken rule, but Hotch? He understands why sailors abandoned ship for sirens. He wants nothing more in that moment than to hear you say his name again.

But he just nods, going back to reorganizing papers. You pipe up with a question “should I go see if JJ has a case yet?”

“No, not yet, the work day started a few minutes ago, no need to rush her” he says, you nod.

“Should I-“ he cuts you off by putting his credit card down on the table. “You should go online and look for office supplies” he says, and once again, you look at him like a confused puppy.

“I talked to Strauss, we agreed that you do far too much around here to not have an office. It’s by no means extravagant, but I talked her into giving you the empty office” he says. You know exactly what he’s talking about, and it’s really not extravagant, it’s probably a little bit smaller than Penelope’s lair, but it’s right next to Hotch’s office and it’s big enough for a desk and a filing cabinet. You’re ecstatic.

“Really?!” You squeal, practically bouncing with excitement. “Really” he nods. You hug him, it’s awkward, you’re bent over to hug him while he sits. You don’t really mind, but Hotch wants to acknowledge your affection, so he stands and hugs you back. Wrapping his arms around you and gently rubbing your back. As you pull away you smile up at him.

“Thank you so much Aaron” you smile, he just nods to the card. “You’re very welcome, and get whatever you want for the office, don’t worry about the cost” he says, your eyes go wide.

“Oh no- I can’t. Really. I’d feel awful and-“ he cuts you off again.

“I mean it. Whatever. You. Want.” He says sweetly, but you protest again.

“I really can’t. I couldn’t.” You say, he nods “alright, send me what you like, if it’s not too much I’ll get it, then you can buy the rest, would that work?” He offers, you shake your head

“I can’t take your money-“ he once again, stops you. “It’s my final offer. I buy it all or I buy some. I want to do this for you” he says, you blush, he takes note. You nod.

“I’ll- uh- I’ll send you what I like” you say. He nods “good, you can start looking now if you’d like, I have to go talk to Rossi.” He says “don’t worry about anything else until we debrief alright? You’re officially on break.” He says, you nod. “Thank you. So much. For all of this” your sentence comes out in parts, like you’re building it once it’s already left your mouth. Hotch smiles. “Rest for a bit Y/N, you’ve more than earned it” he says as he leaves the office.

You have a nice, 20 minute break before the debrief. You get right back to business as usual, only adding in excited rambling on the jet too Spencer about how you plan to decorate your office, Hotch listened with a smile.

“Are you planning to eavesdrop on that poor girl the whole flight? Or are you just really interested in colored gel pens” Emily asks, tone teasing and sarcastic. Hotch rolls his eyes. “I have interests” he says, Emily grins. “Yea, you’re definitely interested in something” she says, Hotch laughs softly. “Maybe” he admits.

He knew that maybe was a definitely, so did Emily, but neither of them mention it. She drops the topic and he goes right back to listening in on you and Spencer.

The case goes by quickly. A less than 72 hour turn around. Hotch sends everyone home early when you get back. A small congratulations for a successful case. You, as always, stay behind when he does.

“Y/N, go home and rest” he says, you shake your head

“I’m fine to stay” you assure him, he won’t have it “you’ve been tired and stressed. Go home, rest, and come back tomorrow feeling a little better. That’s what I need from you.” He says it like an order, you honestly feel like you’ll get fired if you don’t go have a spa day. So you just nod. “Yes sir” you nod, putting down the files you were holding.

“Have a good night, Y/N” he says as you leave. “You too Aaron, head home at a good time, I’m sure Jack misses you”. He assures you he will. You nod and leave.

An hour later, you’re home, watching bad tv and eating take out, which absolutely counts as self care, when you get a text.

Hotch!: “Jack wanted me to tell you he says hi.”

You laugh and text back

-> “Awww!! Tell him I say hi back!!”

You don’t wait long for a response.

Hotch!: “He’s very excited to hear from you. Have you picked anything for your office?”

You smile

-> “I’ll have to babysit again sometime!!! And yes, here🙄 (but 4real, thank you so so so so much for paying. Absolutely don’t worry about anything thatz 2 expensive!!)” you text back, including an Amazon wishlist

The next day is normal. Completely average. No cases, no major drama. Just paperwork, random ramblings to Hotch about whatever is on your mind and gossip sessions in the bullpen. Good, but average.

Then the next day comes. And you squealed so loud that Derek thought he’d be on rat catching duty again. But nope, much better, you walked into Hotch’s office and were greeted with Amazon package after Amazon package.

Hotch smiled “I figured you’d be picky about how the office is set up, but I did come in early and set up your desk and filing cabinet.” You hugged him and probably thanked him a dozen times, excitedly rushing to Penelope’s office to get a decorating buddy.

He’d never admit this to you, but he confides in Rossi later that day that he never approved your office with Strauss, but he knew how happy it would make you, and he knew he wanted to be the reason you were that happy. He’d argue with his boss a million times to make you smile.

Your day was obviously above average, but Hotch’s was wonderful, just because he got to spend it watching you run back and forth with the biggest smile on your face. He knew he wanted you before, but now? God, he wanted to spend forever making you smile like that.

I pulled an all nighter and spent 2 hours in a haze writing this. I hope you like it!!!

Click here for more of my work

Please remember to reblog with feedback!!! It helps writers a lot and is how my work reaches more people!

[cellophanejpeg]

im a mess (but im the mess that you wanted)

s.: you've been with nanami for few months, but he never stays the night. could he be lying to you? (or: the one where you find out about nanami's secret) (nanami kento x f!reader

w.c.: 5.6k (i got carried away srry)

t.: suggestive at the beginning, developing relationship, hurt/comfort, smut at the end! see spoiler tags on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

His lips trace your neck in gentle kisses, body still glued to yours, sweat glistening on his skin. The sheets on your bed are soaked, but you don’t mind as his body is on top of yours and he looks down at you with his beautiful brown eyes and smiles softly.

“You okay?” he asks, stroking his thumb on your cheek, looking into your eyes. You lean in and kiss him, the dizziness from your pleasure fading away.

“Yes,” you answer, smiling, “that was amazing, as always.”

Nanami laughs softly, a light shade of pink painting his cheekbones.

“Come on, let's clean up.”

It's been five months since you've been seeing your coworker, Kento Nanami.

It's easy to be with Nanami, you found out. He doesn't mind your unorganized self. He doesn't care if your makeup is smudged or if your hair is tangled. He even told you he liked it. Although you have to pretend nothing is happening between you and him at work, he often gives you rides back home at the end of the day. He invites you out often, and takes you to the fanciest restaurants in the city, usually at night.

“Will you stay the night?” You ask as he pulls you up by the wrists.

He looks at you and seems to think for a moment.

“I can't. Sorry.”

You can see his shoulders sag a little as your heart sinks.

“Okay.” You whisper and stand up, walking towards your bathroom. Then, he calls your name, making you turn around to face him. His brown eyes meet yours, almost taking your breath away.

Nanami opens his mouth, then closes it. It's clear that he's nervous, that he wants to say something, but he just sighs quietly.

“Are you okay?” He asks again.

A smile spreads across your lips, even though you want to cry. “Of course.”

You watch as he nods and then enters the bathroom.

He never stays the night. He never invites you to his apartment either. He never asks you out during the week, or on your days off.

I wouldn't be surprised if he had a wife.

The thought makes you gasp out loud, the sound covered by the water of the shower. But what if he had a wife and you're just his mistress? What if he had a family, someone waiting for him every night while he fucks you into oblivion in your bed?

You suddenly feel sick. You have to ask him, you have to know. It makes too much sense. It would explain why he never takes you to a picnic, or invites you to lunch.

When you leave the bathroom, hair up in a bun and a soft towel wrapped around you, you see that he changed the sheets and made your bed while you were in the shower. He's dressing his clothes in a hurry, phone in hand.

“You're not gonna shower?” you ask, watching as he hastily buttons his shirt.

“No, sorry. Something came up.” He says, looking up at you.

You look at the clock on your nightstand. It's two in the morning. What does he mean something came up? Your heart only sinks further. No words are exchanged while he finishes dressing and gives you a kiss, before leaving.

“I'll call you tomorrow, alright?” he says at your doorstep. Tomorrow is Saturday.

You nod, “Take care.”

After he leaves, you put on the massive t-shirt you call pajamas and hop into your bed.

It's only when you rest your head on the pillow, that the tears come.

…

He doesn't call you all weekend. And doesn't show up at work on Monday.

You resist the urge to text him. Part of you doesn't want him to be in trouble with his hypothetical wife, even though he's the one who's allegedly cheating. The thoughts drown you and you can’t focus on your work.

On Tuesday, he shows up looking like death. Dark, deep, bags are under his eyes and an exhausted look on his face. He doesn’t meet your eyes, not right away. It doesn’t soothe your anxieties when a coworker teases you about wearing mismatched shoes to work – your head was so jumbled in the morning that you didn’t realize you grabbed two similar shoes that belonged to different pairs – and he interrupts the interaction, telling them to go back to work. 

Later, near your usual smoke break, you get a text message from him.

You okay?

Swallowing, you take a deep breath, trying to push away all doubts and questions, you type an answer:

Yeah. Meet me at the roof in 10?

Of course.

When you push the door to the roof open, he’s already there. The sunlight momentarily blinds you, a contrast to the artificial lights of the office. You walk towards him, hands shaking. He looks at you, once you’re near enough, and smiles, letting out a relieved breath. His hands reach for you, pulling into a tight embrace. It’s like he’s relieved to finally get a moment alone with you. It warms your heart and it makes you forget about your worries for a second.

“You didn’t call,” you say, wrapping your arm around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He buries his face on your neck, inhaling your scent. The scent of your deodorant and something he can’t describe, but it smells like you , “Had a family emergency. This weekend was crazy.”

“Oh.”

A family emergency.

That could mean anything. Maybe his brother was in an accident, or his grandmother tripped and fell, or his cousin got sick, or… Or he has a family, and you’re just a secret. Just a way for Nanami to release his stress from work and then go back to the family waiting for him, lie in bed with the woman he actually loves.

Your eyes sting with unshed tears and you hear your own voice asking,

“Are you married?”

Nanami’s body tenses before he releases you, searching your eyes.

“What?”

“Are you married?” You repeat, vision going blurry now. When he doesn't respond, you continue, “I mean, you– you never stay the night,” great, now you’re sobbing, “and you never invite me to come over, and– and–” your eyes are like an open faucet, “and you didn’t call me on Sunday and didn’t come yesterday, so, please, if I’m just your mistress, please tell me.” You sob, wiping your nose with the sleeve of your cardigan, “Please.”

Kento cups your cheek and wipes your tears, looking into your eyes.

“I’m not married,” he responds and then pulls you in a hug, kissing your hair and tucking your head under his chin, “I’m sorry my actions made you believe I was.”

You sniffle, feeling stupid now, “Okay.”

After a brief pause, he speaks again, “Would you like to come over tonight? For dinner?”

You look at him, pulling away from his embrace, “Kento, I didn’t mean–”

“I know.” He interrupts you, “I still want you to come.”

Nanami’s eyes are warm and he doesn’t care that you’re a snotty mess right now. So you nod, looking away from his perfect face. He pinches your chin gently, bringing your gaze back to him and then presses his lips against yours. Your heart leaps.

He’s never kissed you in the office before. Well, technically, you’re outside, but he never showed a sign of affection like this out of fear someone would catch the both of you. Somehow, you’re not worried about that.

“Meet me at the garage floor when you clock out.”

…

“I’d like you to meet someone,” Nanami says, as you click your seatbelt off.

The ride to his apartment was filled with soft conversation, but when you entered the apartment complex garage, he spoke with a careful voice, as if he was afraid of your reaction.

“Oh?” You wonder what's this about, since he said he wasn't married.

He leads you to the elevator and presses the button to the second to last floor, placing a hand on your lower back. Your heart is hammering inside your chest, as you get closer to his apartment. Then he guides you to the door, inserting a key and opening it.

“Papa!” a flash of pink hair runs towards Kento and hugs his legs.

“You're home early– oh.” A second voice makes you look up from the little boy attached to Nanami.

A teenage boy with dark hair stares at you. Then, Nanami calls your name.

“This is Yuuji, my son,” he says, “and that's Choso, his brother.”

You don't know where to look. To the little boy in Kento’s arms, or to the grumpy teenager that's staring with suspicious eyes at you. Nanami then introduces you to the boys. Yuuji smiles politely, but you can tell he's a bit shy.

“Um… hi,” you say, looking at them.

Choso scoffs, “That explains a lot.”

“Choso–” Nanami starts but the boy just waves a hand at him.

“Yeah,  I know. I have to go, though. Got too much homework to do and this little devil kept me busy.” He ruffles his brother's hair who giggles. Then he looks at you, “Nice to meet you. Your shoes are mismatched.”

You look down at your feet, even though you know you have different shoes.

“Choso.” Nanami sighs, “Be nice to your mother.”

The boy just waves a hand at him. You look back at Nanami and Yuuji.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks, smiling. Yuuji looks at you curiously, but still apprehensive, clinging to his dad's shirt and tilting his head until it rests on Nanami’s shoulder.

Oh, fuck.

You feel so stupid right now. He clearly has a family, but he doesn't have… a wife? Choso has a mother, so he’s only Nanami’s? Then why is he leaving?

Sensing your confusion, Nanami touches your arm. “I'll explain everything. Come inside.”

For some reason, you oblige. His apartment is big as you enter the foyer and observe the living room.

“You have to take your shoes off.” Yuuji’s voice stops you from taking another step into the apartment. You look at him, surprised.

“Of course,” you answer, toeing off your – mismatched – heels, revealing the chipped black nail polish on your toenails.

Should you have dressed better for this? Maybe if he told you beforehand…

No, this isn't fair on him. You're the one who cornered him and asked about his personal life.

“Are you feeling better?” Nanami's voice is soft as he talks to his son, walking inside the apartment. It hardly seems like the man who talks obscenities to you in bed.

Suddenly, you feel like an intruder. His home is clean, neat, save from a few toys on the living room floor. The open kitchen is pristine, it seems like the counters and stove were cleaned with one of those expensive products your mom used to use at home. The massive TV is turned on, on some children's program.

Panic sets in your throat. He has a son, a family. And you’ve… you've never wanted kids. You're not good with them, they don't smile at you when you talk to them, always hiding behind their parents. You're too serious, too stiff, for them.

Kento calls your name and you look up at him, blurry vision. He's got a concerned look on his face.

“Yuuji, why don't you go get your new shoes to show our guest?” He sets the kid down, who nods and runs to another room – his bedroom, you suppose. Kento approaches you, gently taking your hand and maintaining eye contact with you.

“I'm sorry,” he says, “I should've told you.”

“No, no!” You're quick to say, “I– I shouldn't have…”

“Asked?” he finishes the sentence for you, “Sweet girl, it’s perfectly understandable why you asked.”

Your heart skips a beat at the endearing name. He cups your cheek, pressing his lips on your forehead.

“Kento… I’m not good with kids…”

He smiles at you, “Don’t worry. You’ll find out that Yuuji is easy to impress.”

As if on cue, Yuuji runs back to the living room and ends up tripping on his own feet, falling to the ground. You gasp, expecting tears, but he just stands up and resumes his run to you.

“Look!” He stomps on the floor and his shoes light up, colorful lights blinking.

You raise your brows, actually impressed by them.

“Oh, wow. That's… actually kinda cool.” 

Nanami smiles softly at you, even though you're not looking. You didn't force a baby voice, or crouched down to meet Yuuji's eyes, but the sincerity in your voice is real.

“What do you want to eat?” Kento asks you, carefully.

“Ramen!” Yuuji says, giving you a toothy grin.

Nanami snorts, scooping him up quickly. “I didn't ask you !”

Yuuji giggles loudly as his father holds him upside down, Nanami smiling at the sound. You've never seen him smile like that.

“Ramen is fine, actually,” you say and they stop, looking at you for a second before Kento puts Yuuji down.

“Go put your toys away, Yuuji.” He commands, voice soft and calm. Looking back at you, the man approaches, hesitantly takes your hands, and pulls you further inside the apartment, “He got sick on the weekend. I had Choso take care of him, but he got worse on Saturday night and we had to rush him to urgent care.”

You feel your eyes widening, eyeing the kid gathering his toys in the living room.

“His fever broke yesterday morning, but I decided to take the day off just to be sure.” Nanami continued.

“Oh.” If you felt stupid before, now you feel like an idiot. The guilt blooms inside your chest, making you swallow hard and look away. And, with a tiny voice, one you don’t expect him to hear, you say, “I’m such an idiot.”

To your surprise, he laughs softly, cupping your cheeks and kissing your eyebrow.

“You aren’t.” He pulls you in an embrace, “You couldn’t have known.”

“I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, though.” Your voice is muffled against the fabric of his suit. Nanami’s fingers intertwine in your hair, so, so gently. So different from what you’ve experienced with him. The action makes a soft, fuzzy feeling jump inside you.

“It’s alright.” He then pulls away from you and smiles. “I would’ve too.”

You blink at him as he turns around and enters the open kitchen, leaving you to think about his words. If the situation was reversed, if you had a kid that the man you were hooking up with didn’t know about it, you’d be sure he wouldn’t bat an eyelash about it.

But you’re talking about Kento Nanami here.

The stoic, cold faced, man that is your coworker. The man who always focuses on the tasks that need to be done. The man that’s showing you he cares, that he’s soft, a totally different side of him, and, little by little, tearing down the walls around your heart, making you feel… special.

A little hand pulling on yours interrupts your train of thought and you look down to see Yuuji pulling you to the living room.

“Do you want to see my new toys?” He asks, already urging you to sit down in front of the coffee table.

“S-sure.” You look back at Nanami, but his back is turned to the living room.

There are a bunch of plastic toys scattered on the table: little trucks and cars, plastic bugs and dinosaurs and a few superhero figurines. He looks very proud of his collection, smiling and looking at your reaction as he shows you the things his dad and big brother gave to him.

Then, he hands you a toy phone. You reluctantly pick it up.

“Nanamis’ office, how can I help you?” You say into the fake phone, making Yuuji laugh, “oh, he’s not available right now, his schedule is pretty tight– Sir, please calm down, no need to yell.” Yuuji laughs more, but your face is so serious that Kento wonders how you do it, “Alright, sir, I’ll ask, just a moment.” You place a hand on the ‘receiver’ and look back at Yuuji, “Sorry, Yuuji, but Mark from sales wants to speak with you, do you have time?” he has a toothy grin plastered on his face. You resume your fake conversation, “Uh, he’s really busy, doing important things, you’ll have to call later. Would you like to leave a message?”

A deep laugh interrupts your play and you look up to see Kento smiling at you. Your cheeks burn as you put the fake phone down.

“You’re funny.” Yuuji says, leaning on your side. You look back at him.

“Thank you.”

Kento, then, places a sousplat on the coffee table, following with a bowl of ramen in front of you. He does the same for him and Yuuji, warning the boy about the temperature. The little boy sits between you and Kento, happily grabbing the spoon and scooping the warm liquid. You watch as he brings the spoon to Kento and waits for him to blow on the food.

Your heart does that funny thing again.

Deciding to ignore it, you take the spoon and bring the soup from the ramen to your lips. The high temperature burns your mouth, making you drop the spoon, clattering on the ceramic bowl.

“Shit” You mumble, bringing your hand to your lips.

“Shit!” Yuuji exclaims, with a toothy grin.

Widening your eyes and looking at him, then at Nanami, you feel your heart drop. You did not just teach a little kid to curse, did you?

“Shit!” The boy repeats. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!”

“Oh, no.” As your heart beats faster, Nanami smiles at you, laughing softly.

“Choso taught him how to curse last week.” He explains, reaching to the jar of water on the center of the table and pouring you a glass.

“Shit, fuck!” Yuuji continues.

Surprised, you let out a nervous laugh.

“Yuuji.” Nanami scolds, gently. “We have a guest tonight. Be polite.”

Yuuji giggles and takes a bite of his food, like nothing had happened. Nanami is still smiling softly at you, lingering his stare. His brown eyes are soft, as if he holds a certain admiration for you. 

The rest of the night goes with conversations with a kid, helping Kento to tie up the kitchen and putting Yuuji to bed.

Nanami sighs as he closes his son's bedroom door and walks over to you, back in the living room. You stare at each other with soft smiles for a moment, prolonging the time; you avoid saying that you have to leave, wanting to stay longer in his company, in his home.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” He asks, and your heart warms.

“It's a weekday,” you argue.

“I know.”

Then you nod, feeling the heat creep on your cheekbones. Nanami pours you a glass of red wine and guides you back to the couch. He crosses his leg, supporting an ankle on a knee, and stretching his arm on the top of the couch. He turns to face you, taking a sip of his red wine. Accepting his invitation, you approach him and snuggle on his body, his warmth radiates to you.

“How old is he?” You ask, after a moment of silence.

“Four,” he answers, rubbing circles with his thumb on your shoulder. When you don't say anything, he continues, “his… his mother is not in the picture.”

“Oh.” Your heart breaks a little to think of him and Yuuji abandoned by a faceless woman.

You feel him swallow hard and pull away to look into his eyes, “You don't have to tell me if you don't want…”

Nanami smiles softly, brushing a strand of your hair away from your face.

“It's alright.” He whispers. “I want to.”

You sit with your legs crossed on the couch as he tells you all about it. He tells you how he met Yuuji's mother at a bar and had a one night stand that resulted in her getting pregnant. He tells you how she wanted to get rid of it, and how he even drove her to the clinic, but felt an urge to convince her to keep it.

“I told her it was her choice, and hers only,” he says, “but if she wanted to, I'd support her in any way possible. She already had Choso and being a single mother is very hard. In the end, we decided I'd get the baby and she'd pay for child support. I told her it wasn't necessary, but she insisted.”

A valid reason, you think. Maybe this woman was so hurt in the past that another kid wouldn't do well for her.

“It's been Yuuji and I, ever since. At least until Choso found us last month.”

A smile creeps on your face, “He seems… nice.”

Nanami almost barks a laugh, holding himself to not wake Yuuji up.

“He’s a teenager. But he's very protective of Yuuji. I guess he's always wanted a brother, that's why he looked for us.”

You nod, reflecting on what he said. You can't help but feel compassion for Nanami, imagining it must have been hard for him in the first moments. Taking care of a newborn, on his own, and still going to work… you feel your heart squeeze.

“I know it's a bit overwhelming,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, “I-I… I won't blame you if you don't want this anymore…”

There. The insecurity is clear in his eyes, that avoid yours, in his stuttered words – have you ever heard him stutter before? –, in the way he leans his elbows on his knees. You can't help but feel sorry for him, but a deeper feeling takes over you.

Something strange, unfamiliar, but comforting. You don't know what it is yet, but you'll soon find out.

But it's something that drives you to uncross your legs and lean forward, against him. Gently, you take his chin and guide him to look at you. Without saying a word, you bring your lips to his, in a soft kiss.

“I don’t know how to deal with children,” you say, touching your forehead with his and closing your eyes, “but you can teach me. I know I’m clumsy and I have problems paying attention to what I wear to work, but if you… if you both give me a chance to let me in, I’ll do my best.”

Nanami cups your cheeks and leans forward to kiss you, before murmuring on your lips,

“You’re already in, sweet girl.”

Tears pool in your eyes as you kiss him back, not paying attention to the half empty glass of wine in your hands, only when it spills all over your blouse and on the couch.

“Fuck,” you whisper, quickly catching the – now empty – glass and standing up, “I’m so sorry!”

He stands up as well, never minding the stain on the couch, “I think that’s on me this time, darling.” Looking at your blouse, wet and stained, he inhales deeply. “You uh… That’s gonna stain if you don’t wash it soon.”

You look at him, knowing damn well the blouse is gone, the white fabric forever stained red. There’s a blush on Nanami’s cheekbones that makes you snicker.

“Should I take it off, then?” You ask, feigning innocence.

“Yes.” He answers too fast and you know what’s to come.

Untucking the blouse from your skirt, you cross your arms at your front and pull it over your head. Nanami’s breath hitches and he closes his hands in fists when he sees your black bra. It’s simple, not even lacy or anything, but the sight of your breasts in them makes him want to lose control.

You hand him the blouse with a smirk on your face. He says something under his breath that you can’t understand and takes it from you, “This will probably take all night.”

“I can stay as long as it takes,” you reply, “if that’s okay–”

“It’s okay.” Again with the quick answers, “There’s a shirt in my bedroom. It’s at the end of the hallway. I’ll throw this in the washing machine and be right there.”

You can tell he’s holding himself by the strain on his voice, but you put that aside, because now you’re excited to see his room. Walking through the corridor, you pass Yuuji’s bedroom and what looks to be Nanami’s office. His bedroom is neat, organized, which reflects on the kind of person he is. It’s bigger than yours, with floor to ceiling windows, and a king sized bed – that looks so soft you’re afraid to sit on it–, a walk-in closet, and a big mirror leaned on the wall.

The windows are what catches your attention. You’ve never seen a city like that, lit up in the dark, you can only see the lights of other buildings and the cars down there. It’s beautiful.

Two hands snake on your waist, making you jump. Nanami’s lips brush on your shoulders from behind as he pulls you closer, your back against his chest. Relaxing your muscles, you lean back on him, touching his arms. 

“The view is beautiful.” You tell him as he peppers wet kisses from your shoulders to your neck.

“Hmm, this one too.” he says softly and you smile.

He starts to run his hands on your body, squeezing the flesh of your hips, cupping your breasts and hiking your skirt up to caress your inner thighs. Nanami moans in your ear.

“These damn lacy thigh highs.”

“Kento…” You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder, “What about Yuuji…”

“I guess you’ll have to be quiet tonight.” He caresses your back and your neck until his hands are in your hair, giving it a tug that makes you whine quietly, desire coursing in your veins.

His mouth finds yours in a desperate kiss, all teeth and tongue, and it’s like he doesn’t kiss you in years . Nanami unzips your skirt from behind and pulls it down, turning your head, making you look at your reflection on the window.

“Do you know how hot you are?” He whispers, a feral look on his face. You don’t have to look into his eyes to know his pupils are dilated with lust.

“No…” You sigh. “Tell me… Show me.”

A hand dips between your thighs, pulling your underwear to the side, and wasting no time in coating his fingers with your wetness. You hear him groan and say something, but your mind goes blank when he messily rubs your clit. A moan escapes your lips and he lets go of your hair to cover them.

“Shh…” Nanami says, “Be a good girl and I’ll let you come tonight.”

Oh, god. You love when he takes control like this. It’s how you know he’s going to fuck you good.

Without warning, Nanami sinks two fingers inside you. You’re so wet that they glide in easily, making him chuckle.

“Kento…” you mumble, voice muffled by his hand. “Please…”

He moves his hand from your lip to your neck, “What’s that, sweet girl?”

“Please…” you repeat.

“Please what? Use your words, princess.”

Your breath hitches at the endearing name, “Please, fuck me.”

Nanami smiles and it takes a second until he guides you to bed.

“Take these off,” he says while unbuttoning his shirt, “keep the thighs on.”

You know he loves when you wear high thighs, especially the lacy ones. Reaching behind you, and unclasping your bra, a smile graces your features when he takes his shirt and pants off. 

It never gets boring.

Nanami grows impatient and helps you pull down your underwear, spreading your legs after. The anticipation and excitement make you lose your breath, as he softly runs the back of his fingers on your inner thighs, tracing the lace and the soft skin of your upper thigh, getting closer and closer to where you want him to touch you the most.

“Kento…” your breath hitches when one of his fingers barely touches your center, “don’t tease.”

He laughs, smiling at you. “Now you want to tell me what to do?”

“No!” You shake your head, closing your eyes, “I just… Need you.”

Without warning, he kneels between your legs and latches at you. You whine, falling on the mattress and tangling your fingers on his soft hair. Nanami eats you like a starved man, like if you're someone he’s been missing for a long time. Your breath gets heavier by the second and, particularly, when he inserts two fingers inside you again, using his thumb to circle the most sensitive part of you.

“Love the way you taste,” he says, eyes hooded and cheeks flushed. You don’t answer as you feel your orgasm building up slowly on your lower stomach.

“Hmm, don’t stop.” You manage to say.

“Anything for my good girl.” He mumbles, putting his mouth on you one more time.

The compliment is what makes you come, your hand over your lips to muffle your moans and whimpers. Eye rolling to the back of your head, you try to close your legs but Nanami doesn’t stop, riding out your orgasm like he does so many times.

When he’s done, he leaves a trail of kisses up on your stomach until he reaches your face, hoovering above you.

“You look so pretty when you come.”

Laughing, you try to hide your face, but when Nanami pries your fingers apart, he kisses you softly. Your moans, muffled by his lips, are quiet when he sinks in you, starting a slow pace; he buries his face on your shoulder and you wrap your legs around his hips, hugging him closer – as if it was possible – to you.

It’s not enough.

“Kento,” you whisper in his ear, “fuck me harder.”

Nanami grunts and pulls away from you, slipping out and roughly flipping you on your stomach.

“Ass up.” His voice is commanding and you oblige, moving to stay on all fours, “you asked for this, sweet girl,” he thrusts into you hard, “now take it like the good girl you are.”

He hits a spot inside you that makes you see stars; you can’t help to think how full you are, how complete you feel with him inside.

“ Shit .” Nanami’s voice is a hoarse, breathy, mumble. His fingers dig on the skin of your hips. You can feel the pressure of his blunt nails and it only makes you shudder. Your eyes rolling back, a strangled moan leaves your lips.

“I-” you try to speak, but Nanami grabs your hair by the roots, pulling you up so your sweaty back meets his hard chest. “Fuck, Kento!”

His mouth finds your ear, breathing hard as his hips meet your behind, “You like it when I pull your hair like this?”

Words escape you when he hits that spot inside you again, taking your breath away. It only makes Nanami pull harder on your hair, your scalp stinging pleasantly. The all too familiar sensation on your lower stomach starts to emerge.

“Do you?” he insists, his pace becoming slower, teasing you.

“Yes, fuck-” you gasp.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, Mr. Nanami ! I love it when you pull my hair!”

He hums satisfied, “Good girl.”

Nanami lets go of your hair too soon, pushing your face against the mattress, but you don't have time to whine as he starts thrusting faster and harder inside you. Your knees almost give in and your legs shake. Trying to warn him, mumbling as he pistols his hips with no mercy. It’s only when the pad of his thumb presses against the tight ring of muscles behind you that you let out a raspy moan, letting it all out.

“Fuck, you little slut ,” he groans, coming together with you, releasing his spill inside you, “look at the fucking mess you’d made.”

Your senses are out of control, you’re seeing double and you barely register the soaked sheets as Nanami rides your and his orgasms out. When he finally stops his pace, you let out a shaky breath. You feel him pull out of you with a groan, leaning against your back once more, planting kisses on your face. The sigh that leaves your lips in relief is replaced by a yelp when he turns you on your back, pressing his lips on yours.

“Make up your mind, am I a good girl or am I a slut?” you smile on his lips.

He lets out a laugh, his smile making his eyes wrinkle at the corners.

“You’re wonderful,” he replies, out of breath, “You okay?”

“Yes.” you nod. “Sorry about the mess.”

Nanami shakes his head, “I love your mess.”

Lips parted, you pause at his words and absorb its meaning.

“Do you want to shower?” He asks, as if nothing has happened.

“Yes, please.”

Nanami guides you to the bathroom and gives you toiletries, kissing you one last time before you enter the shower. You use his soap, so uniquely him , and the extra toothbrush he gave you to brush your teeth. Then, when you leave the bathroom, he’s wearing his previous boxers and has already changed the sheets. As usual.

When he looks up at you, he smiles, “Will you stay the night?”

Warmth blooms in your heart. You nod quickly, not saying a word, afraid you’ll tear up.

Then he hands you a pair of pajamas. “Sorry, I only have men’s pajamas.”

“It’s okay.” You whisper. “Thank you.”

Nanami presses his lips against yours in a short sweet kiss, “You go ahead and lie down. I’ll take a quick shower.”

Nodding again, you smile to yourself as you dress the blue pajama he gave you and get on bed. Everything about this night was perfect. Meeting Yuuji and having dinner with both of them. Learning more about Nanami’s life, him showing an important part of him.

And you can’t wait to wake up next to him tomorrow.

[curseofaphrodite]

PRE-OWNED RECORDS

Sirius Black x muggle!reader || fluff

summary: the time Sirius sneaked away from Hogwarts to see you.

The thrift store looked as cozy as ever, which was the obvious effect of a place filled with things that people had previously loved. The crooked statues and trinkets near the door, the sound of a Little Richard record playing somewhere behind the back, the huge stack of battered old books — all of them made you excited like the very first time you stepped inside.

You looked at the boy you came with and saw a gleam in his eyes that you haven't ever seen before.

"Pretty, isn't it?" you asked, taking a brown butterfly hairclip from the basket near him. Sirius still hasn't finished taking in the shop's eccentrics.

"It's so cool," he said in awe.

You laughed. You could see why he'd be so surprised. Sirius Black had been homeschooled all his life, or that's what he says anyway. All you know is that your strange, rich, pretty neighbour never comes out of his house unless it's the holiday season. When you ask him about it, he says his mother is old-fashioned and traditional. You hadn't understood what he meant until you saw her once yourself. From her attire to her cold glare, that particular cameo still gave you shudders.

Even the times you do see him, he's covered in leaves and dirt, as if he climbed down the window without anyone seeing. Sometimes you wonder if you ought to get him legal help to get him emancipated. But he never looked physically harmed, but he never looked completely okay either.

Str̥angely enough, your holiday friend wasn't out on a holiday though. This visit was right in the middle of the school year. When asked about it, he said something about apparition or desperation that you just decided not to ask further. He looked particularly worn out that day, so you decided to take him to somewhere he'd never been before, which happened to be a very long list. The thrift store was close, so that's the story of how he ended up gawking at the records beside you.

"Who's your favorite?" you asked, actually curious. Apart from his unusual attire and confused looks when you mention anything from music, you haven't had the faintest clue as to who he even listened to.

"Stubby Boardman?"

You blinked. "Uhm, you mean Buddy Holly?"

"Yeah, sure." Sirius looked more interested in the records before him. He brushed past the unorganized stack with a faraway look in his eyes. He then turned to you questioningly. You jumped a little and looked away because you realized you might have been staring a little too much at him.

"Look at this!" You were thankfully saved by the orange and red album in front of you. You reached for it gleefully, making a happy sound. "I've been looking for this edition for such a long time! Oh, I can't believe they have it!"

"Are they any good?" he asked, matching your level of excitement.

"The best," you sighed, hugging it closer.

This particularly sweet moment was cut short when you heard a small commotion at the front of the store.

Sirius's face showed immediate panic. "I knew that cat looked familiar!" He said, rushing to the cashier's area.

"The cat?" you blinked in confusion, then followed him.

A woman stood in the spot, wearing the biggest black hat you'd ever seen. She had small spectacles and smart, shrewd eyes behind them. She looked exhaustingly mad, as if she'd been in plenty of situations like this before.

"I'm still learning the ropes of apparition?" Sirius tried, smiling meekly. "I've no clue how I've ended up here."

"Mr. Black, you've excelled in apparition and rest assured, even the most horrible student wouldn't end up hundreds of miles away from where they are. I'm sorry to interrupt your date but you're coming with me right this instant!"

"Who is this?" you asked. The woman turned her gaze on you, and the wheels seemed to turn in her head.

"Let's go," she said more sharply.

"I enrolled in a boarding school?" Sirius directed the answer at you, though it sounded more like a lame excuse. The woman did not look happy to be ignored. "I've to go now but I'll explain everything when I'm back okay?"

"No, you won't!" the woman said shrilly.

"I'm sorry but you all have to leave," the cashier said, looking like she's had enough. "We don't have squabbles inside the store."

Sirius looked a tiny bit sad. Being unofficially thrown out of the store was not how you thought how the day would go, but you sighed and walked out anyways.

Your phone rang. It was your father, asking you to pick up the groceries on your wy back. By the time you hung up, both Sirius and the lady was nowhere to be seen.

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

"You're young and that's a fancy word for naive," Minerva said, walking or slightly running down the hall. Sirius struggled to keep up.

"She's going to understand."

She stopped in her tracks and Sirius almost crashed into her.

"That's not what I meant. How do you think your mother would take the fact that you're friends with a muggle? Let alone more than friends?"

Sirius blushed. "There's not more—"

"Oh, I'm not stupid. But that's not what this is about either. You're bringing her to her doom if you keep visiting her under Walburga's nose."

"She's all I have at that place!"

"That's not true. There's a person in your own house who needs you, but you seem to forget that."

"Regulus is like the rest of them. He's not who he was," Sirius said promptly. His words were harder than before. "If you doubt it, look for the mark in his arm."

Without waiting for her reply, he stormed away. To hell with the detentions, he thought. I have to do one more thing back in my town.

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

The next morning, the first thing you thought of while waking up was the boy with dark long curls and brown pretty eyes. You wondered if you dreamt him up.

There was a part of you that wanted to be mad that he left without a goodbye, but you actually didn't mind. Something said he'd be back soon enough.

"Hey kiddo," your dad knocked on your door and walked in, holding something familiar in his hands. "Someone left this at the door. Must be for you."

You gasped, grabbing the red and orange record from his hands.

"How—?"

"There was no note." He shook his head. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a secret admirer. Now come down to the kitchen, we made pancakes."

"I'll be right there," you mumbled, examining the album once again. Once he left the room, you immediately went to the player.

While you took out the record, you noted something eerily familiar to dog hair sticking on the sides.

THE END

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

masterlist | KOFI | commissions

[mossiishroom]

TR! Pili/Mocha Masterpost!

All info is from the OOC Lore stream on 21/1/25 [TALKING ABOUT MY CHARACTER The Realm SMP] streamed on DTownGato

Info will be separated into sections via subject! Feel free to repost this to Twitter with credit! (I have Twitter but no idea how to use it.)

Read under the cut! (Sorry if things are unorganized!)

General Info

Mocha, being a feline hybrid, has tendencies to those similar of a cat, primarily being the instinct to kill and toy with his victims

It was also stated that he is able to purr and meow during this, so it can be assumed most instincts of cats apply to him (Except use of a litter box which was outright stated, he uses a normal bathroom guys)

Mocha is completely asexual, and is somewhere on the aromantic spectrum

He doesn’t have a clear understanding of romance, and wouldn’t do the act of starting a family, cuddling, physical affection

Pili stated that Mocha’s idea of romance differs from the norm but didn’t really clarify what it actually was, I assume well see more of this in character (Personal theory is romance to him is being devoted to one another)

It was stated that he does feel some strong emotions for Pangi that aren’t explicitly romantic but not exactly full platonic as far as I understood?

Also said Mocha could be in a polycule/polyamorous

Doesn’t take flirting or asking people out on dates seriously at all because he doesn’t take romance seriously, even if it hurts people (Asking people out is funny to him though because of their reactions)

An observer and over-analyzer at heart

The thing he hates most is people lying/betraying him

Loves the cold and the snow

Doesn’t have any particular fears, not even death

“Pili is a male calico cat..all calico’s are female, so take that as you will” (TRANS CANON!!!)

Does not take most things seriously, pretty much everything is silly to him

Not the type to have a single home or stay in a place for very long, constantly on the move and changing his home

Pili’s boundaries [I feel this is relevant]: Shipping is ok as long as it is his character, and the other person is ok with it. Gore/Horror art is a yes as well! Just no NSFW!

Dislikes having any sort of attachments, to anything. This applies to people, a place, pets and objects and tries to keep everything at a distance (This seems to have failed with Pangi)

Often lacks empathy for most people

Self-centered and does this for his own gain, and a very transaction person (However, Pili did say that Mocha is not narcissistic)

Mocha is all bark and all bite, he’d fight more if not for the fact he doesn’t wanna be an asshole to other people on the realm OOC as most of them aren’t pvpers

Listens to hardcore rock music!

He had met one immortal previous to being on realms, there is a chance this will come up again as Pili refused to elaborate further

Self-Destructive Tendencies

Highly likely to provoke people into fights for his own pleasure, even and especially if they are stronger than him

Self-loathing, his own biggest enemy and an enjoyer of self-suffering until others get involved (usually this means people he cares about, not so much for people he’s neutral towards)

Mentioned avoidant-attachment style, however I don’t feel comfortable going into more depth as I’m not educated on it. Added on is an uncomfortableness with emotional intimacy as it’s unfamiliar to him

A masochist, does not fear extreme physical pain and often enjoys it (unsure if he believes he deserves it or if he just likes pain in general, could also be both)

Self-destructive with suicidal tendencies and is completely aware of it, does not want to be stopped from doing so

Often drawn to those with high power either to leech off of or fight

Opinions on others

Clownpierce

His obsession started with a challenge from Clown who stated (in a mocking tone) that Pili could try and kill him

From then on he became determined and obsessed with fighting him, uncaring if he won or lost

Due to self-destructive tendencies he doesn’t care and sees loosing or winning as a win, he either gets his ass beat (which he loves) or he wins and gains respect

Enjoys the sort of one-sided obsession, as it’s what he thinks he deserves (Rather than Pangi’s love for him)

Ultimately he does want to be able to prove him wrong but due to ooc reasons (See: The alchemy buff) he’s likely unable to win the fight

His character lost a lot of motivation as well when Clown wasn’t impressed with him fighting and not bringing an actual axe was an extreme regret for him

Roscumber

Genuinely despises her (Quote. Mocha does not like Ros at all)

Purposefully provokes Ros, in the hopes that it will lure in Clown to a fight

Mocha is very aware Ros is Clown’s weakness, just as Pangi is his

He is not above killing her to get Clown’s attention. The only thing that really stops him is that he knows Ros can’t fight very well OOC and it would cause problems behind the scenes

He believes that Ros’ kindness is cute, but extremely naive and that at some point she will bump into someone who is true evil and that her kindness will get her killed

Pangi

Pangi is one of his only weaknesses and his biggest attachment, and he hates him for it in a way

However, Pangi is his ride or die, they have each others backs no matter what kind of atrocities either commit

Although he flirts with everyone for his (and Bad’s) entertainment, he feels that Pangi may have some unspoken feelings for him and due to it feeling somewhat real, he tries to push him away

On the AroAce spec, however he does feel something for Pangi (Not explicitly romantic, this remains unclarified for now?)

One of two people Mocha truly cares about

Pangi’s insistence on trying to stop him from dying rubs him off strange, and the divorce was a test to see how he’d react in a way, which he did fail. However Mocha’s weak spot for him ultimately overpowers anything else

He is well aware he’s a bad person and thinks Pangi’s love is too good for him, resulting in Mocha trying to push him away as it feels undeserving and Pangi needs better

Badboyhalo

Mocha somewhat sees BBH as an older brother, however he does not understand family dynamics as he has never had a family

One of two people he actually cares for

Is more likely to inform Bad of secrets than he is Pangi, because he knows Bad would not have any extreme emotional reactions to loosing him and will not form an attachment to him

Would likely fight him for fun and choose to fight him over Foolish out of curiosity to see what would happen if he died

Finds his relationship with Foolish entertaining and analyzes it closely

As far as we know, the only person who has ever made Mocha have a panic reaction (Occured when Bad killed him) due to catching him completely off guard

The main reason Mocha asks people out is for Bad’s entertainment (And his own, but he enjoys making Bad laugh)

Foolish

Mocha is drawn to his immortality and strength and is extremely curious about him

His bickering with Bad is a source of entertainment to him

Krowfang

Mocha is somewhat protective of her (This comes both from the in character deal of protection between them, as well as being close friends irl)

Thinks it’s ballsy for stealing the bell and antagonizing Owen, but approves and would consider him an ally

Jonnaay

Thinks he is worth training and protecting after seeing the somewhat attempt on Tubbo’s life with the anvil trap

Believes he could have potential

Badlinu

Thinks he’s chill, maybe a bit endearing however he falls into pretty much the same category as Sausage

As in, he likely won’t help with quests and is mainly there to build

Smajor1995

To him, Scott is not even really a red faction member, instead blue

Scott had contributed nothing towards the quest and mainly builds

Others+

AverageHarry dies too much but he at least tries

Tommy/Slimcicle/Baghera don’t log on enough for him to have an opinion on them

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December 2023 Masterlist

Hello everyone!

So sorry it took forever to get this out, but it took me 5ever to read through these fics bc I was expresso depresso and working a lot LMFAOOOOOOO

Anyway, THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR EVERYONE ENTRIES!!! I adore you so so so so much. I am SO HAPPY with how this worked out and the amount of response! I hope to hold another event this March with @for-a-longlongtime at @triplefrontier-anniversary for the TF anniversary over at my main account @romanarose, and an event in June for pride, so if those interest you, follow my main page or this one, or @romana-updates

NOTE: I was unorganized so if I forgot someone's fic, IT WAS NOT ON PURPOSE. I know right now there discourse right now the Pedro fandom specifically, about different people not liking others or small writers or big writers ETC, but I want you to know no one was left out on purpose!

Note 2: If I put your fic here but forgot to reblog LET ME KNOW! I want to make sure everyone gets a chance to shine.

Without further ado, the fics and art!

ALL OF THESE ARE DARK SO SOME DEGREE FROM CNC, DUB CON, TO VIOLENT NON CON! HEAD WARNINGS!

The Last of Us

The Burglary by @aurorawritestoescape and @milla-frenchy: Two men break into your house and take more than just your valuables.

Fight Club by @anama-cara : Post outbreak set in the Boston QZ. You decide to go against Joel in an underground QZ fight club for some extra coin. Joel doesn't take kindly to the competition and decides to punish you in his own special way.

Deja Vu by @milla-frenchy : After a bad experience with a former boyfriend, you meet Joel who makes you trust him fully in the bedroom

Silent Night by @kewwrites : Despite the way he always acted around you, you find it hard to say no to Sarah when she invites you home to her dad's house for the holidays. Surely nothing would happen while she's with you.

Training Day by @koshkamartell : Set in AU, no outbreak. You get more than you bargained for after trying to make Joel jealous.

Code Broken by @auteurdelabre : You only wanted to pull a silly prank on your neighbor, Joel. Who could have seen it ending up like this?

The Art of Breaking by @corazondebeskar-reads : Your meeting is happenstance, but everything that follows? Well, that’s all Joel. He just knows you’re going to be his perfect little toy. He just has to show you how.

Cry Harder by @romana-after-dark : While keeping you captive, Joel's sex drive is insatiable, and the sex seemed to be never ending. You tried to warm him you needed to use the bathroom... he didn't listen.

Nightmare Before Christmas by @katiexpunk : As an escort, you’ve found yourself in some pretty fucked up situations before. Years of experience have taught you to navigate such situations with a combination of tact and assertiveness. Most of the time the men who exude an air of sleaze shrivel back into the corner, embarrassed and limp dicked.  Most of the time.  Tonight is not one of those times.

Locket by @toxicanonymity : Dark!Reader dugs her friends hot dad Joel

Run, Rabbit by @justagalwhowrites : It was just over a year after the world ended that you were captured by Joel and Tommy Miller. They're harsh, they're cold and they're killers. But, as a nurse, you're a valuable person to have around and they're not the worst thing wandering the wasteland that was the United States. And there might be more to these men than meets the eye.

Godless by @javier-penas-wifexx420 : You work at a brothel that operates above a saloon in your town. Joel is the leader of a group of outlaws that come periodically to collect payment and wreak havoc. One visit, you catch Joel’s eye and he decides he has to have you.

Across the Spiderverse

After Dark by @runa-falls : He wants you. and he knows you need him.

Triple Frontier

Deep Seeded Issues by @djarinmuse: Summary: At an N.A (narcotics anonymous) meeting you recall a dark and embarrassing memory, not knowing the connection in the room.

My Blood Would Teach Me How to Love by @winniethewife : Santi finds you self harming, blood kink ensues.

Room's on Fire by @romana-after-dark : Cult AU, Pope, Frankie, Will and Ben are cult leaders and need a virgin to breed who will birth the savior: the Madonna. Initially honored to find redemption, the Madonna has to learn how to navigate all four men and a circle of other people at the house.

Goodnight, Princess by @melodygatesauthor : Your dad's best friend accidentally discovers that you're a sex worker. He tries to let it go, but it eats away at him until things go way too far.

The Card Counter

Bad Bet by @boredzillenial and art by @lunar-ghoulie4art : William beats you in a poker tournament, but you just can’t accept defeat, not yet…

Getting Whats Mine by @winniethewife

Lightening Face

Puppy by @darkuselesssomebody : In which the reader is a manipulative bitch - and basil snaps because of it

Mojave

Cruel Intentions by @hon3yboy : You're on a soul seeking journey, just another young, pretty, thing. All alone and stranded in the desert, ripe for the picking and ol' Jack has his eyes set on you.

Moon Kight

Death to Dignity by @juneknight : An intruder (Marc) breaks in to your apartment.

*************

I cannot thank you enough for your support and interaction for htis series!!!!! I had SUCH a good time reading all these, you are all so talented!!!

I hope to do more events soon as it's really helped me make some friends and get to know people here!!!!

Please remember to reblog these authors, and if you're tagged here, be sure to check out more! Lots of great content here!

[visionsofyouandme]

It's a Wonderful Life, Javier Peña!

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Javier does not indulge in the holidays, not caring for the lights, the cheer, and togetherness. But then you come along, and bring a little Christmas spirit in your wake.

𝚠/𝚌: 7.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: Javi POV. Afab!Reader. Fluff. Talks of Christmas. Banter. Javi trying to suppress feelings. Office romance. Swearing. Several Christmas movie references. Really, a lot of pining (my staple at this point?), fluff, and feels. Not really proofread (sorry not sorry!)

𝙰/𝙽: Merry Christmas and happy holidays! Here is a Xmas gift from me to you. Thank you for reading and joining me on this rather fresh and unorganized blog for my writings. Here's to a good, easy, and fun holiday for those who celebrate, and an easy transition into the New Year for us all ❤️

Read on AO3!

Javier Peña did not celebrate Christmas.

He had felt less and less “in the holiday spirit” over the years of adulthood. With his job and how stressful and time consuming it was all around the clock, it was hard to even think about it when that time of year came around. Sure, the office attempted to be festive with a sad excuse for a foot-tall, skinny Christmas tree with ornaments from the 60s. Maybe some garland around the doorways. But, that was if anyone remembered that year, or any year before or after.

And then, there came you.

You were hired on as a secretary, and when he met you, he knew you would just be another notch in his bedpost. And he tried to be as charming and suave as he did with every other woman who worked for the DEA and every woman after that, but it never seemed to work. You were polite, and annoyingly so, and turned him down every time with a smile that annoyed the hell out of him. 

He gave up after a month of trying, moving on to easier prey. And somehow, you still wanted to talk to him. Nothing serious, but asking how things were going, if he needed anything- he’d make a quip like “just you, cariño,” and give you his best smirk. You would only roll your eyes and if he didn’t annoy you entirely you would bring him coffee. Some days, it came with a biscuit.

He didn’t know what kept pulling him into your orbit, but it was around Christmas when he noticed. You put a little more effort into decorating- some lights on the windows, a new, two-foot tall plastic Christmas tree with updated ornaments. The garland was now wrapped in ribbon, and the place just felt… better.

But, Javier Peña did not ever indulge in the season.

He would spend late nights at the office the nearer to Christmas Day, leaving Steve to go home to his family and celebrate with them. It was about 4 days until Christmas, and around 7:30 at night when you approached him, looking like you were ready to leave.

“Agent Peña, you’ve been here since 6am. I think you need a break.” you said, tilting your head to the side. He looked up from the stack of papers on his desk and leaned back, rubbing his face. He sighed,

“No rest for the wicked, as the saying goes.” he said with a frown. You shook your head, and gestured for him to follow.

“Put it to bed for the night, which I know you’re good at,” you said with a glint in your eyes that made him roll his eyes. “And come with me.” 

He cocked an eyebrow up at this, and sighed, knowing his eyes were about to fall out of his head from staring at words all day, his hand cramping from the pens and pencils he gripped. Besides, who was he to turn down going with you anywhere?

He followed you to a bodega a few blocks from the office, and he watched as you conversed easily with the shop owner as they prepared some food for you both behind the counter. Some kind of homemade special that Manuel had cooked up just for you before closing.

“You take good care of her now, amigo. She is a good one, si?” the shop owner said with a grin as he handed the bag to you. You rolled your eyes, but he could see the shy way you didn’t meet his eyes. But, he gave the man a nod of acknowledgement and an awkward smile. 

“Thank you, Manuel. Buenas Noches.” you said and Javier held the door open for you-

Since when the hell did he do that?

He followed you to your apartment, and he swallowed. Was this really what was going to happen tonight? You had turned him down night after night, and now you had lead him to your place with food? What was he doing? 

“Are you… um- are you sure, cariño?” he questioned, the uncertainty in his voice that made you turn your head as you fished out your keys. You cocked an eyebrow at him, and rolled your eyes,

“Unless you wanna eat on the street, come on.” you said, and wrestled the door open. He quickly moved up the steps and held the heavy door open, allowing you to step inside first. He followed you, glancing around as if searching for threats. None were there, of course, except a barking dog in the distance. Other than that, it was quiet. Peaceful.

Your apartment was small, but homey. This didn’t surprise him, as you seemed to leave comfort wherever you roamed. And, your apartment was also sparsely decorated for Christmas- lights hanging on doorways, another small tree (looking suspiciously like the only one-foot one from the office), and it smelled faintly of fresh balsam. Noting the blown out candle on your coffee table, he had deduced the source.

“You stole the tree from the agency?” He questioned with a smirk as he shed his jacket. You set down the food on the small, sad excuse for a kitchen table and looked back at him.

“I replaced it. Upgraded it, even. Thought it would be a fair trade.” you said with a smirk and began to dish out the food.

Javier was a bit surprised, to say the least. You invited him to sit, and you ate, talking over the food which was still hot and absolutely delicious. He scarfed it down, unaware of how hungry he was. 

“Jesus, Javier, don’t choke.” you laughed, and he wiped his mouth hastily,

“Sorry. Wait- did you just call me-?”

“We’re off the clock, figured it would be fine. Or do you get a kick out of being called “Agent Peña” all the time?” you said with a smirk. He shrugged,

“You can call me anything you’d like, cariño.” he chuckled, and you shook your head, still working on your food. The conversation was easy, comfortable, nice. He hadn’t sat down with anyone except some other fellow agents and Steve for meals, but never pleasantly like this. 

“What are your plans for Christmas Eve?” you questioned, and Javier snorted.

“I don’t do Christmas. Probably pulling an all-nighter at the office.” he said, and you actually frowned at this. He shifted uneasily in his seat, and shrugged it off.“It’s fine. I do it every year-”

“That’s kind of depressing.” you said, and he sighed. He knew it was, but he didn’t exactly have friends or a family to spend it with. 

“Well, what about you, Mrs. Claus?” he quipped, steering the conversation away. You shrugged, and picked at your food.

“I plan on getting home and watching some movies. Call some folks back in the states, wish them the best for the holidays.” you said, but he could sense the underlying sadness in your voice. It was his turn to frown. Him having no one to spend the holiday with was usual- but hearing you saying you didn’t have anyone? Now that was unacceptable.

“You don’t have friends?”

You laughed at that, and glanced up at him.

“I do, but they have families, other friends to spend it with. I don’t mind going solo.” you said, picking up your water and taking a sip. Javier shook his head, and sighed,

“Well, I’d like to at least share a drink with you. Maybe get rid of some of that loneliness for the both of us for a second, you know?” he said. He meant it casually, but he meant it real and truly. It would be nice to at least have a Christmas toast with someone for once. And if it meant bringing two lonely hearts together… why not?

A small smirk spread on your lips,

“I’ll bring the spiced eggnog, then.”

He made a face, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fine. Eggnog and bourbon, then. They pair really well, believe it or not.” you said, and he shook his head.

“You won’t find eggnog here,” he said. He hadn’t had that in years, probably since before he left Texas to join the agency. Even then, he must have been a child when he last had it.

“I have my ways.” you said with a wink. He couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face, and he shook his head.

“You are funny, cariño.” he said, and you hid your smile in the rim of your water glass, but cocked an eyebrow.

“Javier Peña giving a compliment? Somebody put that on the record.” you laughed, and he shook his head, but a warmth spread in his chest. 

“Anything for you,” he said quietly, but you didn’t look up. Maybe you didn’t hear. 

But, he meant it.

“What’s with the face?” Steve questioned one afternoon at the office. 2 days until Christmas, and Javier was typing away furiously at his typewriter with a cigarette dangling from his lips. 

“What face?” He questioned without looking up. Steve cocked an eyebrow, leaning back.

“Your “something pissed you off” face. Or it could also be your “trying to hide something” face.” Steve said, and Javier picked the cigarette from between his lips and huffed out smoke.

“Just stressed.”

“You don’t get stressed. Well- you definitely don’t admit it.” Steve said, and Javier sat up from his hunched position. He put the cigarette between his lips momentarily and then exhaled. 

“It’s the holidays. Everyone’s gone, which means I have to pick up the slack.” He said. 

“Way to be in the Christmas spirit, Agent Peña.” Steve chuckled, and Javier heard an elated cry and turned in his chair to see you carrying a plate of something, handing them out to the staff as you passed down the rows. Javier sat up a bit, and quickly stubbed out his cigarette. When he turned to face Steve, he was looking at him with a shit eating grin.

“What? Free food’s free food.” Javier said, and you smiled as you rounded to Steve and Javier’s cluster of desks.

“Afternoon, boys. Interested in a holiday sweet treat?” 

“Oh, absolutely. Haven’t had sugar cookies in a minute.” Steve said, picking one up and Javoer gave you a nod of recognition as he picked his own.

“I was planning on making buñelos, but those were a spectacular fail. So, I went with something safe.” You laughed, and Javier found the cookie was sweet, almost sickeningly so. He looked at you and gave you a half smile and a nod, swallowing the piece dryly. 

“Homemade? That’s… good. Nice.” Javier said with a nod, and both you and Steve looked at Javier. You were the first to shrug it off,

“Well, I thought it would be a good Christmas present for everyone to enjoy.” You said with a shrug, glancing at Javier, but not for too long.

“You boys continue the good work. If there’s any left over, I’ll come to you first.” You said with a wink between the two, and walked on to the next set of desks. Steve was watching Javier like a hawk, who set the half-eaten cookie to the side.

“Too sweet for you?” Steve chuckled. Javier didn’t meet his eyes, and continued typing away.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

Three days before Christmas, you continued to bring holiday cheer to the office. You had brought a radio in, and a handful of cassette tapes of Christmas music. Old stuff, easily accessible… Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, Elvis Presley. You would play one all way way through and then let the usual local Colombian radio play for an hour. And at the turn of a new hour, you’d start another one. 

Javier should find it annoying. Anyone else, he would have said something. But, you just looked so damn happy humming and nodding to the music, that he just couldn’t bring himself to. 

He still avoided you outwardly, though. Cold, closed off. You didn’t seem to mind, and still gave him smiles and variations of “how are you today, Agent?” He felt like an ass, but he still felt the need to create distance, even despite your holiday plans. 

And that? That scared him. He had never had plans for the actual holiday- usually staying home or working a long night. If home, maybe invite a prostitute over to fill the void for an hour or two.

But to spend time with you? Someone who was quickly taking up space in his mind and thoughts? He wondered what caused your change of heart- was it the holiday and you didn’t want to be alone, either? Or was it… God forbid, was it something deeper?

He remembered all the times you had turned him down. Certainly that wouldn’t be the case, actually having liked him. No one liked Javier beyond a one-night stand. He had never convinced you to come home with him, much less have a drink with him. But, you had given in so easily this time around, that it left him puzzled.

His sleuthing skills were not serving him well, apparently.

“What should I play next? Bing Crosby or Dean Martin?” you questioned, and Javier looked up as you set more files on his desk. He rolled his eyes,

“If I have to hear “Let it Snow” one more time, I might throw that damn radio out the window,” he said, which was true. You only laughed, and it rang in the office like sleigh bells. He noticed you wore a Christmas tree broach, and at least complimented your restraint of personal Christmas accessories. 

“I’ll skip over that one for you, then. It does get a little old, doesn’t it?” you questioned, and Javier snorted. 

“You’re killing me slowly, cariño.” 

“Well, i’m trying to bring some Christmas cheer. Don’t turn into a Scrooge on me, okay? Or a George Bailey. I’d hate for a ghost of Christmas past to visit and foil our plans.” you said, and Javier’s eyes snapped back up to you, files forgotten.

“Oh,” he said, like he had just remembered. He leaned his elbow on the desk, “Right. Your place or mine?” he questioned, and you rolled your eyes.

“Agent, this is not a ploy to get you in my bed. I don’t have that kind of agenda. Figured we could share a drink here before heading home. I don’t care for the busy bars, it makes the loneliness feel even more pronounced.” you said, and Javier nodded, but it clicked in his head right then. Loneliness. The only reason why you wanted to bother him during this holiday- and it was no secret that Javier was alone on any and all holidays. He just didn’t think anyone noticed. But you,... You did.

He wished he could say he was grumpy, angry at the thought of someone taking advantage of him and trying to quell their own loneliness. But, that would make him a hypocrite. Sure, he was at work all the time, but it was mostly for the sake of the job. With you, he couldn’t- wouldn’t, you deserved better than that.

“Here?” he reiterated, and you nodded. 

“Right.” you said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He felt his chest deflate, but he nodded with a smile. “Still working on that eggnog, by the way.” you said, patting the files and began to walk away. He chuckled, shaking his head,

“I am expecting the best of the best. Do not disappoint me.” he said, and you threw him a look over your shoulder and winked. He shifted in his chair, pulling up closer to hide his growing hard-on. 

Fuck. This was bad.

“You got a date?” Steve questioned from behind Javier as he rounded to his desk. Javier opened one of the files you had set down on his desk, and shook his head.

“Nope. Just coworkers having a drink.”

“Right. I have never heard that one before,” Steve said sarcastically, knowing full well Javier would say that and have the stink eye from the woman he had bedded the night before. Steve wasn’t an idiot, and some girls made it obvious for their distaste for Javier in the workspace. All of them except you, it seemed. Javier’s one failed attempt at getting a female coworker to sleep with him.

Steve wondered if you had finally given in. Or if Javier was changing his tune in time for the holidays.

Either way, he couldn’t wait to see the results.

Two days before Christmas, it was quiet. You still played the music, but not as frequently. Probably to give the office a break from the same 10 songs sung by different artists. But, Javier was watching you smile, converse, and walk around the office. When you left for lunch, he found himself looking out the window in hopes of your return. 

He was in the breakroom, smoking a cigarette by the window and holding a new cup of coffee. He huffed, and looked down at the street below, suddenly leaning in close to the glass that his nose nearly touched it. 

You were walking up the street back to the building, with a man at your side. You were smiling, nodding, and laughing. That laugh where your face scrunched up and tilted your head back a bit, one he had never had the pleasure of inciting himself. 

And you were next to Miguel Garcia, from the internal operations department. He had never interacted with him, except maybe once or twice. He didn’t even work on the same floor as you and Javier. How did he manage to snag a conversation with you?

Unless…

His jaw ticked, and he rubbed it to ease the tension. When you disappeared back inside, he could see Miguel duck first and open the door for you. When you both walked inside, out of view, he took a very heavy drag of the cigarette. He set down his coffee mug and crossed his arms, the other hand still holding the cigarette to his lips. Feeling a tightness in his chest that was typically only reserved for stress on the job, he tried his best to smoke it off.

He didn’t know how long he stood there, but he had stubbed out that cigarette and another, lighting up a third. He really shouldn’t care about this. It was none of his business, and you didn’t belong to him. But, to know you two had plans, and you walked up with someone else, made him feel… some kind of way.

You didn’t belong to him, he reminded himself. And he doesn’t belong to you.

He wouldn’t realize it then, but later (much later) he would come to the fact that he finally understood what those poor women felt when he went from one to the other in the office. Karma kind of stings.

He heard footsteps and didn’t look up, but he heard your voice ring out in greeting. He looked back, and that tightness in his chest coiled up again.

“Cigarettes and coffee for lunch?” you questioned, and walked to the coffee maker. He shrugged,

“Hasn’t killed me yet.” 

You laughed, and shook your head, making a fresh pot of coffee, “Yeah. “Yet,” being the word.”

“How was lunch?” he said stiffly, unable to help himself. His eyes were trained on your back as you faced away from him to the coffee pot, but you didn’t flinch or tense up.

“It was good! Ran into Miguel from Ops, he was at the same diner as me. He’s a lot nicer than I expected- always thought he was so serious.” you said, and pressed the button, the coffee began to brew. “Kind of like you. Well- I still think you’re serious. But, you have your moments of… not-seriousness, I guess.”

You turned back to him, and he didn’t realize he was staring holes into your back until you looked at him pointedly.

“If you take a picture, Peña, it’ll last longer.” you laughed, and his eyes moved back to the window. He lowered the cigarette to his waist, his thumb ticking against it lightly.

“Everything alright?” you questioned, and if he wasn’t a seasoned agent, he would have flinched. The fact you noticed… that was dangerous, too. 

Too close. Too, too close.

“Yeah. Fine.” he said, and picked up his coffee mug, stamping out his cigarette. The leftover smoke that had accumulated in the room suddenly felt oppressive, and he needed an escape.

“We still on for tomorrow?” you questioned, your body turning as he began to stalk out.

“Maybe. Had something come up- i’ll let you know.” he said, trying his best not to look at you. Because if he did, he knew he would see a look on your face that would make him fold.

“Oh. Okay,” you said, trying and failing to hide your disappointment in your voice. “Yeah, just… let me know.”

Javier sat at his desk, and sighed, rubbing his eyes. 

Yeah.

Too close.

Christmas Eve. Javier was tired. He had stayed late the night before, drowning himself in work to combat the growing feeling of loneliness and melancholy over the holiday. He had tried to push you out of mind, and tried to decide how he was going to tell you he wouldn’t be available for that drink. 

You weren’t avoiding him that day, but you certainly didn’t go out of your way to talk to him. You wore some dangly, Christmas-themed earrings that made little tinkling noises when you moved your head. He was achingly aware of your every move, every word that was within earshot, and every smile that graced your face.

God. Focus, Peña. 

Steve wasn’t there that day, having taken off to spend time with Connie and his kid. Javier was fine with that, meant less snide comments that would be pointed his way. He kept his head down, and didn’t bother interacting with the few people who were there at the office.

Quickly enough, the sun had set and the workday was over, but Javier made no move to leave. Everyone had vacated by now, save for himself, the janitor, and you. He looked up when you approached his desk, and he could see something in your hand. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Try not to stay up all night,” you said and set a tall mason jar on his desk filled with something off-white. He frowned, and looked back at you, “Homemade eggnog.” You offered an explanation.

His heart dropped.

Fuuuuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Merry Christmas, Javier.” You said with a smile when he just sat there, staring like an idiot. You turned and walked to your desk, picking up your bag. You stole another look his way and nodded, and headed to the door. When it shut, his head swiveled to the jar on his desk.

He pondered for a second. Then another second. Then a minute.

God, he couldn’t be this much of an ass. Not on Christmas Eve, of all nights.

Javier quickly gathered everything up, shutting the lights off since the janitor had left minutes ago. Pulling on his jacket hastily, he grabbed the jar. As he hurried out the door, almost forgetting to lock it before turning back and fumbling with the keys. He pulled it once to make sure it was locked and then flew down the hallway.

He struggled to find a taxi, and took it to your place that he struggled to remember. It got him to the right neighborhood, and he found your building moments later. He jogged up the steps when he got inside and approached your door. He hesitated, and wondered if this was a good idea. He pushed the thought from mind and knocked hastily. He didn’t care what the outcome was, he had to say something. Whatever he was going to say, he didn’t know. Good thing he was quick on his feet-

Javier frowned, and looked down to see an elderly gentleman in a white shirt answer the door, looking tired and sleepy.

“Quién eres?” The man questioned, and Javier gulped. He quickly gave his apologies, and the man grunted and waved his hand, cursing under his breath about drunk men knocking on his door. Javier shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked at the next door. He could have sworn it was this one, but he must have been mistaken. 

He walked to the next one, and knocked. He would have to knock on every door on the right hand side of the hallway if he had to-

You opened the door with a frown on your face, phone pressed to your cheek and dressed in sleep pants and a t-shirt.

“H-hi.” He greeted, and cleared his throat. He said your name, and you cocked an eyebrow, obviously surprised.

“I just- I-“ Javier began, but you turned to the side,

“Mom, let me call you back. No, it’s- It’s carolers! How cool is that-? Yes, I know- Okay, love you, bye!” You said quickly and pressed the button hard to hang up. You looked at him, eyes narrowing.

“Did you come to give me back the eggnog?” You questioned, gesturing to the jar in his hand. He looked down at it, then back at you.

“Well, I- I was hoping we could-“

“Christ, Javier. Get in here, you’re gonna let all the cold air out.” You said, and gestured for him to come in hastily. He stepped inside and you closed the door, you both turned to face each other. You crossed your arms.

“Hoping we could- what? Just because I gave you that does not mean-“ 

“No! No… I just- I’m sorry. I feel bad.” 

“Javier Peña feels bad?” You scoffed, and shook your head, reaching for the doorknob. He stepped forward, hand outstretched,

“Yes, I do! I do. I… Wanted to say thanks...”

“For the eggnog.” You stated, finishing for him. He sighed, and knew this would be a shit show. He had to recover it somehow.

“Not just that. For offering to hang out, for bringing cookies… for making Christmas a little more… Like Christmas, I guess.” 

You stared at him. And then you laughed. It started out as a nervous, breathy laugh, and then you crescendoed into a cackle. You wiped your eyes, and shook your head,

“Peña, you are something else.” You said, and reached for the doorknob again. “Now, get ou-“

“At least have that drink with me first.” Javier said quickly, and you looked at him. You seemed to ponder it for a moment, and your eyebrows furrowed with frustration and he thought for sure that you would throw him out by his ear. But, your shoulders relaxed, and you shook your head.

“Fine. Not like I have anything else going on.” You said, resigned to it and locked the door, walking to the kitchen. He followed along quickly, and you reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of bourbon, looking half-drunk already. He wondered how much you indulged in it, and the thought made him smirk slightly.

“I’m just doing this to be nice,” you said pointedly when he set down the jar, and you found two mismatched glasses, dividing up the eggnog and alcohol ratio. “And to keep from being on the phone with my mother.”

Javier nodded, and hesitated to take off his jacket or make any other move to make himself comfortable. He stood there rather awkwardly before you gestured to the living room.

“Go ahead, sit. I’ll meet you there.” you said, and he nodded, feeling some kind of relief to do something other than stand there like an idiot. He walked to the living room and shed his jacket, draping it over the back corner of the couch and looked at the TV, which was playing some black and white movie, the accents dramatic and distinctively old-timey. He heard the name “George Bailey” cross the lips of one of the actresses, but still had no clue what you were watching. He sat on the edge of the couch, and looked up when you came in, carrying two glasses.

“It’s a Wonderful Life,” you said, and handed him the glass, which he took carefully. He looked at you with a cocked up eyebrow, and you rolled your eyes. “The movie, Javier.” you chided, and sat on the other side of the couch, a respectable distance.

He took a sip of the drink, and found it to be sweet, like the cookies. The bourbon gave it a bit of a stronger flavor, and he swallowed.

“It’s good,” he said, and he could see your unconvinced glare and he leaned back slightly, trying to recover some of his confidence. “I’m not lying. It’s good. Reminds me of back home.”

You seemed to relax at this, and nodded, satisfied. You shifted your eyes to the movie, and he could see the fondness in them as you watched the movie. 

 "What is it you want, Mary? What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word, and I'll throw a lasso around it and pull it down."

“He reminds me of you, you know.” you said quietly, and he kept his eyes trained on you as yours never left the screen.

“A little misguided, unaware of the bigger picture around you. Maybe a bit cynical, too wrapped up in work to remember the finer, more important things in life.” you said, and he chuckled.

“Yeah? That’s your assessment?” he said, and you shrugged, taking a sip of your drink.

“Yeah. I’m just wondering what’s going to kick you in the ass to realize what you’ve been missing. I don’t think it’s going to be an angel, exactly, but… It is Christmas, after all.” you said with a shrug, and he glanced over your face. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips as they sipped the drink, the way your eyes sparkled in the TV’s light.

What was he doing? Sitting here, on Christmas Eve, drinking eggnog and watching a movie with a woman who had no intention of sleeping with him? Why was he allowing himself to be in a situation like this? Javier didn’t do… whatever this is. 

“Yeah, who knows what could happen.” he said into his glass, his eyes finally moving away from you to the screen. He inhaled gently, the smell of balsam and something distinctly you filled his senses. He had experienced it in passing, like when you walk past his desk or he visits you at your desk. Something just has him pulled towards you, and he has no idea why. It scares him, though.

The movie played on quietly between the two of you, and you had pulled your knees up to your chest at one point. The silence should have been weird, awkward. But, it wasn’t. Javier felt comfortable just sitting in your presence, a sense of calm coming over him. Without the stress of having to converse to fuck things up further, he allowed himself to sink back into the couch a bit. 

The movie wasn’t what he would exactly pick for casual viewing, but you seemed enamored with it. Every time he glanced at you, your eyes were glued to the screen. Soon, your respective glasses were empty and set on the coffee table.

“Hey, Javier?” you questioned after a silence settled in the movie, nearly startling him. He did his best to recover, and cleared his throat, making a hum of acknowledgement.

“If you could have anything for Christmas, what would it be?” you questioned, and he looked over at you to see your eyes were finally torn from the screen, and were on him. He thought for a moment, leaning his head back and slung an arm across the back of the couch, lips parted in thought.

“I guess… maybe a true day of rest. No stress. No paperwork. No having to deal with Steve, or anyone else at the office-” he said, almost on autopilot, but then wanted to kick himself. He fucked up- shit, shit, shit-

But, you laughed.

“I don’t blame you one bit. Place can be insufferable, sometimes. Especially coworkers.” you said, and he could sense the jab right back at him. He shook his head, a small smirk on his lips as he tilted his head back straight to look at you.

“What about you? What’s on The Best Secretary Ever’s Christmas list?” he questioned, and you rolled your eyes, but smiled, looking down at your nails to busy yourself instead of looking at him.

“Ha, ha. Well… Maybe-” you said, but stopped quickly, and shook your head. “A car. So I can go anywhere I want… explore everywhere, and escape, and-”

“Now, why do I feel like you’re lying?” Javier questioned, raising an eyebrow. He didn’t have to use much sleuthing skills to figure that one out. You looked at him darkly, but then back to your nails.

“Fine, in the spirit of the holiday, I’ll be honest.” you said, and Javier shifted on the couch to angle his body towards yours a little more. 

“I just… want someone to- God, this is so stupid. I should not be saying this, especially not you-” you said, the regret already coming out in your voice. But, when you looked at Javier, there seemed to be something on his face that told you to go on. You seemed to relax a bit, and he wondered what exactly you saw on his face. He was just being patient, quiet, listening- something Javier Peña rarely did. 

“I want someone to buy groceries with. Get coffee with, even if it’s too hot outside. Someone to talk to on the phone or come home to after a long day.” you said, your voice getting more and more quiet, and your eyes shifted down to your nails again, and he noticed you were picking the cuticles slightly. Nervous habit, he noted. Why were you nervous?

“It’s dumb, I know. I wouldn’t want to sacrifice my independence, my work, or anything, just… Someone to share life with, I guess.” you said, and Javier felt his throat close up gently. When it was apparent you were done, he nodded slowly.

“I see.” he said, and he could see you visibly flinch.

“Like I said, dumb stuff. I guess the holiday puts me in a lonely, longing mood. 5th one in a row without someone.” you said, and Javier frowned at this. How was that possible, no one being worthy enough to spend time with you? He couldn’t understand it. You were smart, kind, incredibly and achingly good looking, and knew exactly what you wanted in life. Better than him in any and all aspects, really.

“It’s not dumb.” he said, and you raised your eyes to his, momentarily stopping your picking. You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and he shrugged.

“We’re human, right? We want connection like that. It’s in our nature.”

We, we, our. What was he doing? Roping himself into this whole thing?

“Right.” you said, and nodded, but that skeptical look was still in your eyes. But, you smiled small.

“Never thought Javier Peña would admit any of that.” you said, and he shrugged it off, his eyes moving back to the movie.

“I’m full of surprises.”

You updated him on the movie that you missed while you conversed, and as he watched, he could tell more and more this was a pretty depressing movie. This George guy was on the brink of losing everything, and if he didn’t straighten up, he would be sad, lonely, and probably better off dead.

Javier wanted to scoff. Were you trying to teach him a lesson or something?

He couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for this George guy, though. And maybe that sympathy was extended to himself for a second.

As the movie went on, you stretched your legs out slightly, but not enough to touch Javier’s thigh, though it was dangerously close. If he wanted, he could move his hand from his lap and touch your ankle, your smooth and delicate skin. 

But no. Don’t push it. Not on Christmas Eve.

He heard you sniffling at the particularly sad part of the movie, and looked over at you to see you wipe your eyes hastily. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and shrugged.

“What? Old Hollywood makes me emotional, okay?” you laughed lightly, though he could understand where your emotions came from. He let you have this moment, though, and looked away. 

But, the movie had a hopeful turn. And a happy ending that only Hollywood could deliver.

“No man is a failure who has friends.”

Javier pursed his lips, and wanted to shake his head. Maybe he couldn’t relate, after all.

“We’re friends, right?” you questioned, and Javier swiveled his head to see you still wiping tears from your eyes, sniffing before you looked at him. His eyes moved over your face, and he nodded without much thought.

“Yeah. I think so.” he said. Whether it was for your benefit or his, he wasn’t sure. But, it felt right to say it. And your light smile you gave him knew it was the right thing to say. Probably the only right thing he had said all night.

You picked up the glasses as the movie ended, and rinsed them out in the kitchen. He stood up, stretching and followed you without much thought. He leaned against the doorway, watching you and then assessing the room, his eyes roaming. Looking above him, he saw a green and red plant and swallowed. He looked back at you just as you turned back to him, and walked towards him. When you stopped in front of him, and you opened your mouth to speak, he gulped.

“Merry Christmas, Javier.” you said with a smile, and he could feel the subtle shift to get him to leave. But, you were under mistletoe, and he couldn’t help himself.

He kissed your cheek gently, pulling away just as quickly and smiled.

“Merry Christmas, cariño.” he said quietly, and you frowned, then glanced up above the two of you and your cheeks reddened.

“Javier, that’s, uh- that’s just holly.” you said, and he froze. Oops.

“Oh, uh- I just-”

“Well, I give you a point for trying to keep the holiday spirit.” you laughed, and he relaxed a bit. He nodded, and gave you a smile as he moved back to collect his jacket. 

“You should take a break from the office tomorrow,” you said. He shrugged and pulled his jacket over his arms, then adjusting it on his shoulders.

“Why? May miss the chance to see you.” he said, and you rolled your eyes so hard he thought they were going to fall out of your head. But, a smile quickly followed it, and he smirked. 

“I’m taking the day off, like many others.” you said, and he began to back up to the front door as you rounded closer to him to usher him out. He bumped up against the door,

“Well, that’s a shame. I’ll miss my favorite secretary and her holiday cheer.” he said, and you stopped at a healthy distance. He could see you trying to suppress an amused expression, and grinned. “Come on, cariño, it’s true. You are my favorite. No one else would bring Christmas cookies to me unless they were trying to poison me.” 

“Who says I wasn’t trying to?” you teased with a smirk, and he shook his head,

“If you wanted to kill me, you would have done it already. Several times over.” You nodded, but shrugged slightly. 

“I guess you’re more tolerable than I thought.” 

Silence hung in the air as you two gazed at each other. He looked up for just a moment and spotted the clock hanging on the wall. Midnight had just passed, and when he looked back at you, you were stepping closer and closer to him. He looked down at you, having nowhere else to go with his back pressed against the door. You were so close now that he could feel your body heat hovering just above his chest. He inhaled, but as you reached down, the lock clicked to unlock.

“I’ll see you later.” you said, and the tension in his chest melted away almost instantaneously, and he nodded as you moved to open the door. He pushed off of it, and watched as you opened it, but a little slower than he would have thought.

“Merry Christmas.” he said with a smile, and you looked up at him with a nod. He stepped out, and jerked back when he felt you tug on his jacket before he could move away. He turned on his heel, thinking you wanted one more quip, but was shocked (to say the least) when you pulled him down by his collar to kiss him. He stiffened for just a blink but immediately resigned into it and kissed you back gently, eyes falling closed and his hand moving to your waist. When you pulled away he attempted to chase your lips, but his eyes opened for a moment to see you looking up at him. You searched his eyes, like you were trying to weigh the options presented before you. 

He felt that familiar tightness in his chest, and when your hands dropped from his jacket, his hand regretfully dropped from your waist.

“Merry Christmas, Javi,” you whispered, and smiled lightly. He smiled small, the proximity between you two still minimal. He wanted to pull you in, kiss your sweet lips again. 

But as you backed up into your apartment, his hand twitched at his side from the thought. But, your hand rested on the door, and as your eyes fell, you began to close it. He quickly pushed up a hand to stop the door, and said a bit breathlessly,

“New Year’s Eve. What are you- where will you be?” You looked up at him in surprise, blinked, and then responded,

“The office is having a party at the bar down the street. Figured I’d go, at least for a little…” you said, and he nodded, having forgotten all about it until this point. Now that he thought of it, he had heard Steve and some of the other agents talking about it. 

“Perfect.” he said, and nodded. You waited for a moment, and he could see the confused look in your eyes, but you gave him a light smile.

“‘Night, Javi.” you said, and he lowered his hand as the door shut quietly in his face. He stared at the dark wood before him, and gave himself a confident nod.

New Year’s Eve, he thought. Do not fuck this one up, Peña.

divider by @/saradika-graphics!

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! ❤️

[st4rgzer]

now playing…the tortured poet’s department (spencer reid)

summary: spencer left his typewriter in your apartment, maybe he was looking for something else

genre: fluffy fluff

cw!: talking briefly about a case involving children, non specified gender i think!

a/n: i want to make a part two cause it didn’t fit the rest of the song! tell me what you think🫶🏼 ttpd masterlist

you jumped up as three perfectly timed knocks came from your front door. like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home, you ran across your apartment, nearly slipping on the wooden floor. you opened the door hurriedly

“spence!” your eyes lit up at the image of spencer reid in front of you, hair tussled slightly and a soft smile on his lips.

“hi” he spoke quietly, deciding to stare at you for a few more seconds before enveloping you in a hug. the familiar scent of leather and espresso making you melt further into his arms.

you placed a sweet kiss on his cheek before pulling away slightly, he shut the front door with the back of his foot effortlessly.

“what’re you doing here? i mean, its not like i dont want you here, obviously i do ,but, its like 10pm?” you speak quick paced and unorganized, but spencer was, of course, very used to it.

“i left my typewriter here” he said with a smile “and also i really wanted to see you and didn’t want to wait ‘till tomorrow” the last part was said with a softer tone, looking down sheepishly.

you pouted slightly with a smile before planting gentle kisses to the bridge of his nose and his lips, before cradling his face in your hands.

“of course, baby. you can come here whenever” you said, your voice smooth and tender. you grabbed his hand and led him to the living room, where his typewriter sat on the coffee table. the night before, you had asked spencer to bring his typewriter so you could write letters thanking the team for coming to the dinner party you’d organized, and also, it was exciting to use one of those typewriter you had seen in movies. spencer obviously complied, accepting any invitation that served as an excuse to be with you.

“here it is, safe and sound” you said, lavishly pointing to the obvious bulk of a typewriter that rested on the wooden surface.

“thank you for keeping it in one piece honey” he joked, sitting onto the couch and examining the keys. he knew you had kept it secure, it was just a small habit of his. you nodded, sitting back on the couch, observing him attentively as his fingers grazed the sides of the device.

“who uses typewriters anyway?” you laugh, leaning on his shoulder playfully. he shakes his head and chuckles softly in return.

he sits back with you eventually. leaning his head to rest on your chest as you held onto him, sensing something was off.

“you wanna talk about it?” you say softly, treading on sensitive territory. you knew how difficult his job was, and how much he kept to himself. even if you insisted on him talking to you, you never pressured him into giving you any information that he knew you were better off without.

he sighed. you placed his head onto your lap, gently. delicately scratching his head, undoing any knots he had. that seemed to help.

“im sorry honey” “is there anything i can do to make you feel better” you press a kiss to his scalp, continuing to stroke his hair gently, and rubbing his back softly.

“just, be here. this is enough” his voice was tired, fragile. you did as he said, running your fingers through his hair. you felt his breathing slow down, and soon enough, soft snores filled the room. you smiled and pressed a kiss on his head, laying yours back on the sofa, eyes fluttering shut.

[hexite-nightmares]

My very unorganized thoughts on S2 of Arcane but only about Viktor

Alright I finally had time to think and write everything down so here we go. I want to preface that I have been weary about this season ever since I watched the act 1 leaks. Mainly because it was very clear he was never going to be a machine, and they didn't give him enough screen time to develop his motivations into ACT 3 Viktor being convincing enough

LET'S START WITH THE FALSE PROPHET VIKTOR

Alright so he has about 11 minutes ish of screentime. Aside from the glaring issue of Jayce reviving him and not destroying the hexcore, taking away agency from a disabled character. It was clearly a false prophet situation, but it was so fucking confusing on whether he could feel like a regular human, if he was under the Hexcore's control which makes the agency issue worse or just jaded. He all of a sudden starts speaking like he's reading Deuteronomy passages ?? We don't know for sure if he's aware that he's basically creating a hive mind now, did he start his plans of making everyone into one right here? Sky seems to encourage him to do this, what does she know about it since shes been in the hexcore ALONE for a little longer? (writers didnt confirm whether it was the real her or not) . Act 1 Viktor's issues are mostly about agency, and a seeming full abandonment of his identity as a scientist, his personality does a full 180. He doesn’t seem to question that the object that revived him and killed Sky is giving him healing powers, but he’s angry at Jayce so we have no clue if he’s being controlled or not.

The show doesn't seem to care to spend time with him bc Isha and Ambessa I guess.

Anyways lets move on to not even act 2, but ep 6, his only episode in this act.

I had huge gripes with this episode, mainly because whatever the fuck was going on with Viktor trying to "keep" Vander's humanity, when he clearly was taking it away from everyone he touched, does he actually believe what he's saying or is he under the Hexcore's control still?. Obviously the glaring issues of Sky being there without any actual input, they're cosmic friends I guess but with very generic lines, and the fandom has to fill in the blanks with whatever Amanda Overton feels like saying about Sky in the moment(if we don't see it in the show I don't take it as her development, sorry). So Viktor builds Colloidal silver drinking Joshua tree and ppl think it's fucking Eden, Jinx calls him a Machine Herald when there's NO SIGN OF MACHINERY JUST PURPLE MAGICAL METAL LOOKING FLESH. We get a whole ass different realm with no explanation other than, oh yeah Viktor is inside there. Jayce comes in and almost kills him. The only option there is at this point is for Singed to start his MH era. The choice of becoming MH is nonexistent now, other people have to jumpstart things for him. I know some people interprete this commune as Viktor achieving his dreams, thinking he was being himself, that he was in paradise with Sky and.. that wasn’t the case for me.. it was extremely sinister. Worst part of this Act, is that MH was seemingly a damn trial experiment for Orianna.

BONUS:

So it seems that Christian Linke has confirmed Sky was the hexcore using its influence to manipulate viktor into the glorious evolution. He said it was meant to be as a misdirect. So to everyone who got dunked on here for “wanting to be spoonfed” or “not reading into it deep enough” for thinking he was being mind controlled, you were right about it being the hexcore. Viktor has been confirmed to have no agency until episode 9 I guess. He also mentioned Viktor’s goal was getting the most power/influence… we never saw a fucking glimpse of this in season one I’m sorry.

ACT 3

First awful problem here is obviously Singed having to jumpstart things. Viktor is aware for his choice of whatever is happening with the egg thing. Yet....there's still no sign of machinery. We get a scene where Sky fucking dies again, he refers to her as Ms Young, which im guessing is a parallel to the other time he dismissed her in S1. But of course we get the double fridging in the show, cuz making female characters just for the sake of advancing her crush's plot line is sooo amazing. Here lies sky, the character who is barely a character. Well after that we get the sequence of his transformation and we get that butt ugly mask. His personality does another huge change again. So we know the hexcore is not influencing him anymore as the hexcore completed its goal of the glorious evolution.. so I guess viktor really does think this is the right way?

A huge issue I have again, is the lack of agency. In this particular scene Jayce goes "My partner died in this room" yeah..Viktor didn't fully choose to become this right? it all started with Jayce using the hexcore on him, it’s been manipulating him the whole ass season…Kinda wish there was some sort of acknowledgement from Jayce that he’s basically the catalyst of this.

He gets his laser because...fanservice. There's no way he went all the way to the lab and magically attached it to himself just to cut off a wall. He keeps going on that choice is false, but a few minutes before he said he’d evolve all of those willing?

In the cosmos, beautiful sequence. I don’t love Jayce’s dialogue choices(about his disease) here and then it all being about viktor hating himself.. since the hexcore was leading to all of this, his motivation for it all being self hatred feels a bit eh. The sequence is beautiful and Jayce and Viktor destroying the anomaly with the rune shard is nice, that part was cute. But then they kinda disappear and we only know that viktor is alive so far, no clue about Jayce. The sequence is touching towards the end and I’m a sucker for characters finding each other in every timeline/universe but it can’t make up for all the other things that are bothering me. This seems to be the one time Viktor has some sort of agency I guess.

Then obviously the worst part that will bother me forever. The thing that made me almost slam my laptop shut

This retcon is just awful I shouldn’t even have to say why, it makes things fucking weird and it’s frankly stupid. Also viktor can’t rock a beard like that.

Anyways this is very disorganized, fuck you riot I felt like an insane former this whole time but I was right.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

his brown eyes had tragedy weaved behind his irises | season 3 s.r. x gn!reader

tw: mention of drugs and needles.

it was quiet in the bullpen. most agents and staff have gone home or hit the town when the clock hit five pm, while others are too engrossed with their work to deport from their desks. you being the latter, wanting to complete the paperwork from your recent case while the details are still fresh and there's less commotion filling the floor.

suit jacket slowly sliding off the back of your chair, a cup of cold tea beside a lukewarm mug of caramel-colored coffee that pen dropped off when leaving her dungeon to join the team for a drink. jj and emily tried to sweet talk their way into persuading you to abandon the manilla envelope until tomorrow morning, but you were insistent about staying so them along with derek said their goodbyes for the night. hotch also stayed behind, as usual, holed up in his office with his lights dimmed and desk lamp bright. you know he wishes to just head home to his wife and son but his position forces onto him double the paperwork.

signing to yourself as you only had five more pages to fill out and process, you pushed away from your desk and headed to the bathroom to splash some cold water to reawaken your senses. the dull steps to the bathroom was the only noise to follow you down the empty hallway, no passerby to greet or bump into, until-

"sorry- oh! spence, i thought you went home?" taking a step back after your run-in outside the doors. spencer was wide-eyed and fidgeting with his left sleeve, strands of growing hair wild and untamed. he seemed disoriented, unorganized than he usually is.

he licked his lips, "had some files to work on." his only response, not bothering with further explain. he seemed to avoid eye contact, unable to stand still for a second as he kept messing with his dress shirt or running a hand along the side of his head.

you took notice of the darkened circles under his eyes, almost a purple bruise discoloration. his cheeks more hollowed out and even his skin tone looked a bit ghostly, barely any of that natural peachy color. "are you feeling well, spence?" concern for your close friend. you raised a hand to check his forehead, but his hand wrapped tight around your wrist and he stared darkly at you.

"i'm fine. just leave me alone." he dropped your arm and rushed away leaving you in shock at what just transpired.

your mind raced as you tried to notice when this sudden change in attitude happened with spencer. it's been almost a month since spencer was in the hospital from that one case, the doctors say he was injected multiple times with dilaudid when held hostage. you heard the drug is stronger than heroin and you saw that spencer had multiple needle pokes.

he wouldn’t…. he couldn’t possibly still…. he might….

“shit,” whispering to yourself once you came to the conclusion. spencer was still using, this could get him fired from the unit if anyone finds out. was that why everyone’s been quiet and puzzled around spencer lately? did they secretly know but chose not to say anything, even in private to him?

for the past month spencer reid has been struggling in silence with no reach for help. but not for much longer. walking away from the bathrooms and back to the bullpen, you disregard your desk and casually walked to spencer’s desk. he was hunched over scattered files with a tightness to his shoulders, pen bouncing between his index and middle finger on his right hand while his left kept scratching over his body. he was fidgeting like there was a million ants crawling over him and he couldn’t fine relief.

he was a lit billboard sign screaming ‘help me! please, somebody say something!’

“spence,” giving a light knuckle knocking on his desk as greeting. he didn’t bother looking at you, just moving his head at the noise then back. you licked your lips, “i was planning on leaving in about twenty minutes and was wondering if you’d like a ride. not very safe to take the subway at his time.” this wasn’t anything new, you always offer him rides home when stuck at the office together.

“uh, not tonight. might be here for a while. lots of work to do.” he sounded distracted but he didn’t seemed concentrated by the paperwork before him. a hand rubbed at the back of his neck until it started to turn red at the harsh touch.

you stepped forward and placed a gentle hand to his back, he froze. he usually welcomed your touches compared to others but it was like you were a hot poker stinging him as you were reaching out for him. “i’m sure this can wait a few hours until you’re well rested. and more coffee isn’t gonna help at this hour.” keeping a low tone.

spencer rounded his shoulders, a nonverbal gesture to back off. “just leave me alone, y/n. you don’t have to baby me. i’m fine.” stern and cold.

you sighed in defeat and stepped away, “you’re not fine, spence. and i care about you, but i’ll wait until you’re ready to talk… see you tomorrow.” another knock goodbye as you headed to your desk and finished your file.

heading to hotch’s office with your belongs and paperwork, you poked your head inside and softly greeted him. “you should’ve left hours ago,” a gruffness to his voice as he waved you inside.

“and you should’ve been in the parking lot at four fifty-nine, but guess we don’t all get lucky.” you saw the quirk of his mouth that he tried to hide, “anyway here’s the completed file from the jeff anderson case.” sliding the folder over his dark wood desk.

hotch’s brows raise, “the case we completed-“ he looked at his watch. “twenty hours ago?”

you shrugged, “what can i say? i’m dedicated to my work. also means i won’t have to do it tomorrow morning, works out in my favor.” hitching your satchel strap higher on your shoulder, “umm… also i wanted to ask you something, kinda personal.”

hotch placed his pen onto his paperwork and closed it shut to show you undivided attention, he held a hand out to one of the chairs in front of his desk. sitting down you couldn’t tell if this was a good decision but you needed a different perspective.

“this involves spencer, i just wanted to know if you’ve noticed his behavior lately.” trying to play is cool.

hotch sighed, “l/n you know we’re not allowed to profile agents.” you rushed to speak, “yes i know, but genuinely, as a concerned friend of his, have you not noticed he seems… off?”

he went quiet, head turning to look out the window and you followed to see spencer still sitting at his desk with a frustrated expression clouding his face. he seemed like any second he would scream or throw something across the room, but all his did was pound his fist onto his desk thrice and sighed while staring at the ceiling.

“he went through something very traumatic. it’s gonna take a while for him to recover.” a diplomatic statement. not addressing the drugs and the consequences those would have. plausible deniability.

“of course. just wish he could talk to us, we’re his family.” solemnly looking at your lap. he didn’t deserve to get kidnapped and almost die, he didn’t deserve this addiction that was forced into him.

“i know, but he’ll come to us when he feels ready. until then we can only be his silent support system.” hotch sounded upset as well but was able to hide most of it. you didn’t bother saying anything in response, just a nod and a cheeky good morning to your superior before leaving his space and heading to the elevators.

“y/n, hey wait.” footsteps heavy and quick you turned to see spencer at a fast speed walk, a mild jog if it was you with you shorter legs.

turning completely to him and away from the elevator you were unprepared for whatever spencer might say, hoping he’ll speak to you about his issue. “want a ride?” deciding to pose the earlier question for further conversation.

“uh if- if you don’t mind my- my company.” two stutters and his brows pinched in the middle. he was nervous. you tried to sooth his worry with a warmly smile, “i always enjoy your company.” full sincerity dripping from your tongue.

spencer smiled hesitantly, “okay let me just,” he pointed over his shoulder and you nodded him along. he returned in under three minutes with his corduroy  brown coat keeping him warm from the sudden spring chill and his matching brown satchel slung across his chest.

“let’s hit the road, partner.” a slight pep to your step, just glad to have him with in your space. neither of you bothered with any conversation to your car, just letting nature fill the space until your engine replace that and the low volume from a radio station accompanied.

“can you stay at my place?” the abrupt question caused you to flinch and swerve the car slightly to the left then straighten out. your eyes bugged at your actions, “sorry, sorry got lost in my head and forgot i wasn’t alone for a second.” full truth with a splash of lying.

“it’s okay if you don’t-“ “of course i’d love to. lucky i have another go-bag in my trunk.”

at a stop light you looked to your right, spencer lit and shaded by a street lamp. with his hollowed eyes and chiseled features it was like he stepped out a tim burton movie, and halloween was his favorite holiday. you wanted to hold him close to your chest and card your fingers through his hair, whisper welcoming and loving reassurances against his temple while stippling kisses to his crown.

spencer reid deserved that and more.

“the lights green.” you blinked three times at spencer’s direct stare then forward to his apartment.

the comforting smell of hundreds of books mixed with a simple clean scent wafted over you and loosened your muscles. it was a universal hug from spencer welcoming you into his safe space.

“your home is very cozy. well lived in.” complimenting spencer’s living arrangements. he hung his jacket and satchel to a set of hooks beside his door then turned to you with that awkward smile of his. “thank you. definitely planning to stay here forever cause moving all this wouldn’t be any fun.” and you silently agree.

“uh, actually there- there was a reason i asked for you to stay.” spencer spoke lowly, barely wanting to acknowledge his own words.

placing your go-bag beside his couch you looked to him with hopefully an open and reassuring gaze. “you can tell me anything, spence. i’ll always be here for you.” wanting to reach out but holding back for his boundaries.

spencer wrung his hand with eyes downcast, “uh, do- do you remember the tobias hankel case? when i was kidnapped.” his voice was meek. he wanted to curl into himself.

you nodded, “yeah, i was a useless nervous wreck for those few hours. and i didn’t leave your side when you were in the hospital unless needed. i was scared to death about you.” a shakey release of breath. that case was the stepping stone for you to realize more about your feelings towards spencer.

spencer licked his lips, “and you know the doctors had to keep me for a few days to make sure i was detoxed of the drugs in my system.” he finally looked at you, those sad puppy eyes that melted your heart into a puddle.

you took a step forward, “yeah. a full week.”

“well um, uh, when- when leaving the crime scene i- i took a bottle of dilaudid. and i’ve- i’ve been-“ you took another step and stopped him with a small, “i know.” not wanting him to stress over sharing every detail.

his warm brown eyes started to shine with growing tears added with a quiver to his lips, “i- i just… i couldn’t stop myself. i don’t- i don’t want this.” a crack at the end.

you rushed forward to wrap your arms over his shoulders with a hand pushing his head into the crook of your neck. his own long limbs wrapped behind your back and pressed you close to his chest and you could feel each heave of his stuttering breaths.

“it’s okay, spence.” petting the back of his head, “you’ll get through this. i’m here to help you, i only care about your well being.” speaking in low tones, even pressing a gentle kiss to his temple. he did always say that kissing was safer than shaking hands in greeting.

“what if i don’t get better?” a hushed what if, thinking more of a hypothetical then reality in hand. you were quick to quell his fear, “you just have to take baby steps and when you’re ready you could go to na for more guidance from first hand people. even just getting through a full day is a huge accomplishment.”

spencer’s arms held you tighter, “will you stay with me? through it all.” he’s confided in private with you how he’s scared people in his life are just gonna keep leaving. especially people in the bau, you’re his second family while his mother is out of reach on an everyday bases. and at the time you chuckled lightly and said, “of course im gonna stay with you. why wouldn’t i?” and he said so easily with a shrug, “everyone eventually does.”

“i’m gonna stay with you no matter what.” your earlier thought came to mind, from the car, and you made sure to press kiss after kiss to his temple and into the crown of his head. “i love you too much to ever depart from you.” whispered just above his ear.

-

a/n: might be OFC cause i haven’t watched CM in a minute. 1 something k. title is from @unboundprompts

kinda left it a little open ended cause i fear it would get sloppy if i wrote more.

[k0yaz]

Hii! How are you?? Can you write a one shot with Wriothesley, where people find out about our secret relationship with him? Or how do they find it out?

watched

Pairing(s): wriothesley x gn!reader

CW: sfw, gender neutral reader, reader used to be an inmate, secret relationship, gossip, fake rumors, implied stalking, brief mention of wriothesley’s past, slightly disturbing descriptions of the feeling of bring watched (I’m sorry about that even I got a little uneasy writing it 😭), not proofread

A/N: can yall tell i love writing about tea- ALSO IM SO SCARED RN ITS 12 AM AND I FEEL LIKE THERES ONE OF THOSE FUCKING ANALOG HORROR THINGS IN MY HALLWAY OR SOME SHIT AWAWAWAWWWWA

Ghastly creaking noises rumbled off of every corner of the enclosure as your footsteps thudded against the rusted metal floor. You’re unsure how you even gained access to the Fortress of Meropide at will in the first place, but it sure as hell helped you out quite a bit, since you practically got a free pass to visit Wriothesley whenever you wanted.

None of the inmates seemed to question you at all whenever you entered, as you used to be an inmate there yourself. Considering that it wasn’t uncommon for previous inmates to visit quite often, your frequent appearances to the Fortress and time spent in the Duke’s office didn’t raise any suspicion among the den of criminals in the fortress. They simply brushed it off, concluding that you had come to visit out of nostalgia or to speak with now distant friends you made as an inmate.

However, while you were serving your sentence, the last thing you expected was to build a relationship with the Duke himself. A rather intimate and romantic relationship in fact. You found yourself at the foot of Wriothesley’s office, subtly tapping your foot against the metal and emitting quiet clanking noises. Clanking seemed to continue bouncing off the walls of the Fortress despite your minuscule movements and the insignificantly small sounds of the metal. You shook a little at the observation. Was it seriously that easy to hear practically anything in this place no matter how small?

Your thoughts were interrupted when a looming figure came into view as the door creaked open before you. It was none other than Wriothesley himself. He gave you a quick grin, nodding toward the opening between the door he was leaning on, and gesturing you to come in. You complied with his gesture, stepping into the decently lit room and dragging the chair opposite to his desk out, lowering yourself down onto it. Wriothesley carefully shut the door and locked it with a soft click, before seating himself in the chair before you.

“It’s been quite a while since you visited, you know?” He remarked, a pleasant smile on his face. Pressing his cheek into his palm, he glanced over a few papers sprawled out on his desk. You slightly cringed upon seeing the unorganized and messy assortment of papers present across the table. From Fonta Co collab notices, all the way to budget proposals and improvements regarding the welfare meals.

“Anyway, tea?”

Before you could even respond, he began pouring you a cup carefully. He gripped the handle of the pot gently and tilted it against the edge ot the cup, pouring it to the desired amount just below the rim line. You could only let out a soft chuckle upon seeing your boyfriend’s enthusiasm for tea. It was one of the things you loved about him after all. His scarred hands circled the cup cautiously, blowing away a bit of the steam fogging his view before sliding it to you. The plate and cup were both a delicate white, seemingly expensive in fact.

The mellow, floral aroma wafted through your nostrils, brushing a wave of comfort within you as the relaxing smell brought you at ease a little. “Wrio..organize your desk.” You insisted, causing him to grumble a little. “Fine. I really thought the tea would distract you this time too..” He chuckled softly, surrounding his arm around the scrambled papers and piling them into a thick, messy stack. He set them down at the corner of his desk before placing his chin back onto his hand, his blue eyes fixated on yours.

You sighed, resting your hands in your lap before looking up at him. For some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone knew about your relationship with Wriothesley. Both of you never had a choice. You had to keep it private, since that would be the most optimal choice. For Wriothesley, being in a relationship would arouse countless rumors and doubts regarding his authority in the Fortress, with many people questioning if he was really taking his position seriously. You on the other hand, would have to deal with people pestering you if they were to find out about your relationship with a past convict, endless foolish assumptions would be thrown in your face constantly.

Thankfully, the two of you have kept it on the low for quite some time now. To the point where you were confident you wouldn’t get found out in fact.

Still, you couldn’t shake off that nagging feeling that someone knew. Not talking about it only made the gnawing pit in your stomach worse, as if it was urging you to let Wriothesley know about your concerns. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. Wriothesley only raised an eyebrow at you, a concerned expression making its way onto his face.

“(Name)? Is something the matter?”

“It’s…I feel like..”

You shook your head, brushing it off. There’s no way someone could be watching you, right? You were just being paranoid.

“It’s nothing. Sorry, I didn’t get enough sleep last night.”

Wriothesley only grew increasingly concerned, and grasped the armrests on his chair, rising to his feet. He made his way to the side of your chair, before reaching over to rest his hand against your shoulder. “You can talk to me about anything on your mind. You know that, right?” He said in an attempted soft voice, trying to provide a form of comfort to you.

You simply shook your head once more and waved your hand in a dismissive motion, trying to ignore your paranoia. However, the look in Wriothesley’s eyes was practically urging you to tell him. It was near impossible to shake off your boyfriend’s insistence—he knew you too well. Whenever you bit down on your bottom lip or turned your gaze away, his keen perception would almost immediately pick up on it. He knew every little move, every small mannerism that indicated your state of mind.

You sighed, clearly not being able to hide anything at this point. Taking his hand off your shoulder slowly, he stepped back to give you some room to speak as he folded his arms across his chest, indicating that he was listening.

“Wrio. Do you ever get the feeling that…we’re being watched?” You asked, looking up nervously.

Wriothesley put a hand below his chin, seeming to collect his thoughts for a moment before giving a mixture between a nod and and a head shake.

“Sometimes. But for some reason, I only feel it for a couple of moments and it’s gone. Honestly, it feels more like the risk of getting caught.”

You slowly nodded, taking in his words as you began to form your own conclusions. Wriothesley suddenly spoke up again, his voice cutting through your train of thought.

“But- don’t worry. Nobody suspects a thing still, so I think we should be fine.” Wriothesley added, before walking over to you and leaning down to press a quick kiss against your cheek. You let out a satisfied hum when you felt the comforting slight pressure of his lips against your cheek. Being an inmate since his teens, Wriothesley often had trouble being gentle. His touches even when he tried still had a slight rough pressure to them—yet it brings you a strange sense of comfort, knowing that for you, he tries to be gentle.

You get up from your chair and bring your hand up to his face, thumb caressing the scar situated on his cheekbone with a sort of delicate affection. He only let out a quiet “Mm..” in response in that velvety voice which you rarely heard from him, tilting his head so he can lean into your touch further. You leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the lips, causing a soft smile to spread across his lips from the momentary, yet heartfelt gesture.

You unlocked the door and pushed it open, albeit with a bit of struggle using your shoulder considering its weight. “I should get going now, it’s getting quite late and I’d rather not sleep in the Fortress of Meropide.” He let out a husky laugh in response to your humorous comment, before leaning back in his chair and sipping his tea. “Right, I’ll see you…next year or something?” He joked, leg crossed over another and leaning back in his chair casually. You rolled your eyes with a coy smile on your face. “God Wrio, I don’t visit you for just 4 days and this is what you think of me now? I’m hurt.”

“Haha. I’m just kidding, no need to get all worked up, love.”

You shook your head in mock disappointment, not being able to hold back a low laugh from escaping you. You flashed him a quick smile one more time before shutting the door behind you and making your way out of the Fortress. Although eased by the conversation with Wriothesley, you still couldn’t shake off that unnerving feeling as if you were being watched. Every perturbed step you took sent a sort of chill up your spine. The feeling that a pair of eyes was tracing every move, every step, was practically eating at your conscience. Still, you ignored it. Put it down as you just being uncharacteristically anxious today. Once you finally arrived home, you plopped down into your bed, exhausted. Your eyes fluttered shut, practically immediately knocking you out due to how tired you were.

The next morning you went out, feeling perplexed by the indistinct chatter surrounding you. The streets of Fontaine were quite busy, but usually not this busy, it gave the hint that something probably happened. You didn’t pay any mind to it at first, since you weren’t exactly interested in unimportant gossip. However, you couldn’t help but look around with a puzzled expression once you felt every bystander’s eyes lock onto you, continuing their whispers, but now looking at you. You couldn’t help but shift uncomfortably upon seeing everyone’s gaze fixated on solely you.

You grabbed a newspaper which was neatly rolled up on a stray table situated beside a random stall in the middle of the street. Carefully slipping down the rubber band, you proceeded to unroll the paper. The cool breeze gently ruffled the thin sheets and caused them to annoyingly fold on your hands, making it difficult to read the pages. Once you caught a glimpse of the front page, your eyes widened in horror and your grip on the paper faltered, causing you to nearly drop it.

Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, revealed to be in a relationship with past inmate, (Name). Is Sir Wriothesley really reliable as the Duke anymore? Or is he visiting the outside world past the Fortress and leaving it unhuarded?

Your heart stopped as you read the caption to the photo someone took of you caressing Wriothesley’s cheek, breath catching in your throat. A sickening feeling crept up in your stomach, drowning out the bustling crowds around you as you felt yourself sink into the sea of your own mind and conscious.

Who the hell was watching you two..?

A/N: Ok I know this may not be exactly what you asked for since I left the ending up to your interpretation and I think I made it a little too creepy cause I’m feeling a lil unsettled rn sorry 😭 so if you want a part 2 to this or you want me to remake it please let me know cause I feel bad for messing it up

[axcel-lucci]

Since this month is Halloween and Law's birthday, how about Wereleopard Law x Human Female Reader. Its like a werewolf, except Law transforms into a snow wereleopard on a full moon or during their heat. Nobody but his close friends know about this, not even the reader. Law has been cursed since he's 10. How would female reader reacts to this? Also, Law's in his heat during the transformation, and doesn't want to hurt reader. You can make it spicy and love making. 😋😊

Full moon

Wereleopard!Trafalgar Law x human!reader

A/n: I FORGOT TO POST THIS IM SO SORRY

Next part ==>

My masterlist

"Aiyahhh... another full moon next week." (Y/n) sighed in a pleasing manner.

She always loved the full moon, it looks very pretty in the night sky, doesn't it?

Though she doesn't like it when she has to sleep in the spare bedroom while it does.

"Full... moon..." Law, her husband for at least a year and a half, grumbled. Thinking deeply to himself

"What's wrong... law? And also, you never told me why you make me sleep in the spare bedroom. Hmph" she huffed and crossed her arms.

"It's just..." he groaned, "it's nothing... I'm tired, let's go to sleep." He said as he stood up on the couch and went upstairs

She sighed to herself. Law was a man of secrets, that's for sure, but she doesn't mind that. People have secrets they would rather keep.

But when she asked his friends about it, his really close friends since childhood, Shachi, penguin, and Bepo just tells her it's something he needs to do. For some reason, THEY know.

"This is honestly upsetting" she frowned as she got up to their shared bedroom to change and go to sleep in her side of the bed.

In the middle of the night, she always feels him reach into her just to hug her close and bury his face in her hair, no matter what happens, he always does. Almost caging her body with his so tightly it feels so hot with his body temperature. It would've been lovely if it was a chilly night, but the middle of summer for fucks sake.

In the end though, temperature didn't matter, he just felt at home with her. She didn't mind because it has become a ritual everyday. Even if he comes home at early morning or really late at night. It always ends up with him cuddling her like his personal, human-sized, teddy bear.

But this particular night though, he felt more... warmer than he usually would, like he's taking care of a fever he refuses to let go. At the same time though, he seems fine. Just the temperature.

She just sighed and made a mental note to check him in the morning for any flu or fever.

The next morning, she found him still cuddling her tightly, but now nibbling on her neck in his sleep while groaning a bit.

It wasn't a light nibble, no. It literally left multiple marks. She wondered how she wasn't able to wake up with deep blemishing marks on her exposed neck and shoulder.

"Law..." she yawned and faced him only for him to nibble on the other side of her neck as well. "Law." She called more firmly as he slowly woke up

"Huh..? Hm- what?" He muttered, mind still unorganized by the cradled sleepiness in his brain

"You look so cute today" she giggled and kissed him as he hummed

"Aren't I always...?" He grumbled in his deep morning voice and a mischievous grin

She laughed at that, "of course you are."

Timeskip...

It's now 6 pm, and the moon has settled into its full moon state and it's just so beautiful. Like a sun in the night.

(Y/n) heard Law arrive back home when she heard his car pull up the driveway and his usual groan as he gets out and comes into the house with a "I'm home" in a low manner

"How was work, sweetie?" She asked but he didn't answer.

His cheeks seemed to burn as he rushed up the stairs to their bedroom

He's always like this almost every time it's the full moon. It makes her mad. And she's going to find out why tonight, no matter what.

She locked the door and rushed up after him.

He unfortunately forgot to lock the door as he entered.

He could've feel himself lose control and his mind swirling to never ending chaos, his eyes shifting from every possible surface until he blacks out entirely.

Before (y/n) could enter their room, she heard a loud crash from the inside making her rush in with panic.

She panicked even more when she saw him laying on the floor, clutching his head.

It's dark, sure, but the moon illuminated the room through the curtains.

(Y/n) could see a faint outline of... fur? No, an animal... if it must.

But she could still hear and feel Law's presence within this creature so she rushed to him and wake him up.

"Law...!" She yelled as she tried to touch him only to gasp when he looked at her with gold glowing eyes and a cat like pupil that seemed to narrow before being tackled to the ground

"What...?!" She gasped when the creature licked her cheek

"(Y/n)..." Law muttered as he lowered himself to rest against her body and his head against her chest, looking up at her with an apologetic look, "I didn't mean to scare you... I'm... sorry"

"Law? Is that..." she muttered as she reached a hand for the nearby desk lamp and opened the light slightly.

There she saw him, in his wereleopard form. White with black patches of dots on his fur. His eyes still gold from his human form but has a cat like pupil that seemed to narrow.

"You..."

"I know... I know... I should've told you, I'm sorry. It's just... I don't want you to leave me. More importantly, I don't want to hurt you." He explained before turning to a smaller form like a size of an adult jaguar and curling up with his head buried in her thigh so that he doesn't have to look at her.

"Is this why you wanted me to sleep at the spare bedroom every full moon...?" She asked, he nodded silently.

She sighed deeply before brushing his surprisingly soft fur.

"This is... cute. Honestly" she smiled as Law looked at her and transformed to his original form before pining her against the cold floor

"You're not... scared?" He asks

"Why? I know you would never harm me... and I know you've tried your best not to." She smiled before placing her hands on his cheeks and rubbed them like you would to a cat.

Hearing and feeling him vibrate purrs weren't on her bucket list but it definitely is now.

"Oh you're so cute." She smiled as he laid his heavy body against her

"I'm glad" he smiled and hugged her tightly.

Him being heavy was an understatement, before she could even say anything about it, he bit her shoulder out of nowhere.

Oddly enough, it sent spikes of pleasure down her spine and into her now wet entrance.

"L-law...!" She gasped with a moan once he started to lick the mark he made.

"I'm sorry, (y/n). I couldn't control myself... you see, um... this is embarrassing... but every full moon... I transform... it also lines up with my uhm... heat." He muttered and hid his face from embarrassment against her neck.

"Your... heat? I guess animals and humans aren't so different you've definitely switched me on" she moaned slightly in his ear as it twitched

"Oh yeah?" He smirked before turning to his semi-human form.

It was just Law with his fluffy ears and tail, and kept his wereleopard's size.

"I wonder..." he hummed before suddenly plunging his hand under the waistband of her shorts and panties under her clothes.

"Law...!" She gasped again as he pushed in two fingers and started to thrust them in and out of her, making muffled wet sounds as she gasped and moaned.

"Oh my, so wet..." she smiled before basically ripped her clothes off with his summoned claws.

'really like a cat' the last thing she thought before her brain was turned to mush by Law eating her out aggressively.

Him being in heat was so much more aggressive than he usually is as she yelled when he threw her on the bed.

"Tell me if I hurt you, alright? I'll stop if it hurts you" he says as she nodded.

His tail basically wrapped on her legs tightly by itself to pull her legs apart.

"Law..." she looked at him as he took off all his clothing and crawled over her.

Shadow casted all over him, leaving only his gold eyes to shine and stare through her soul.

It would've scared her in a different context but right now, it made her even more wet.

And he could smell it.

"Right now, you're my mate." He smirked deviously before pulling her other leg unto his shoulder and kissed the inside of her thighs, "and all you have to do is moan and whine for me. Now be a good girl, alright?"

She nods before moaning when he rubbed his thumb against her aroused bud, "what was that, mate? I didn't hear you"

"Y-yes...! Please..."

He couldn't control himself at that moment, foreplay would do next time he's in full control but right now, his mind was set on fucking her so hard she wouldn't be able to think of anything.

With one hand, he rubbed the tip of his shaft against her wet entrance, a small thing made her moan. But she screamed in pleasure once he pushed inside her in one thrust.

He was a bit bigger than his human form is. Though "a bit" is an understatement.

A Bulge formed against her abdomen once he was settled inside her.

The walls inside her clenched and sucked him inside, it was warm and he likes it.

He softly pushed the bulge against her making her moan ecstatically and throw her head back.

That's when all remaining self control snapped like twigs in the wind.

He couldn't remember how fast he went or how many times he made her cum or even how many times he himself came deeply inside her.

All he knew that it was a lot as it started to leak around him while he was still inside.

He wasn't aware of how long it had been but it must've been hours. Judging by the sun peaking through the window, it must've been the whole night.

She was tired and spent by the end of it all.

He slowly pulled out causing her to shiver and moan before calming down and breathing heavily.

"So pretty..." he muttered

But he knew this wouldn't be the last of his heat. He knew it would last days of fucking to get rid of it entirely.

And he knows (y/n) would be able to handle it.

While she rested, he laid beside her while looking at her. Observing every single bit of her beautiful complexity.

He could see his seed still leaking out of her, it made him proud to have fucked his babies inside of her.

Whether it'll get her pregnant will be future him's problem.

[py6oto]

tumblr is doing the thing where it bugs out and doesnt listen to me again. sorry if this post gets weird of the images are out of order. i did not do that on purpose !!

XEN, PS+, SWEET VOICE, BATTLE, CHUCKECHEESE, GOODBYE and FREEDAY!!! FREEDOM!!!!

these are the remaining aitober prompts !! yes it's november. the universe did not want me to finish these on time ( T --- T )

but whatevs. here you go !!

i also wanted to thank you for all of your love and support. we just hit 700 on youtube and we're very close to 300 here on tumblr !!! if i could scream i would !!! unfortunately i designed my character to have no mouth. i never thought my art would be seen by such a large public. let alone be seen by a public at all !!! and such a supportive and lovely one at that !!! thank you all, really. if i could hug you all i would. or i could give you a pat on your back if you don't like hugs, or a little heart sticker if you don't like touch. or a

(sorry for the super long post and unorganized images. it seems that me changing these is whats messing the big posts up ... )

[lmanburgseulogy]

C!WILBUR INSANE POSTING. guess what. It’s actually about revival arc 😎 wahhoo

Sorry if it’s unorganized i’m too lazy to read it back 💯 plus probably none of you have the attention span to read this /j

LONG LONG POST UNDER CUT!

Brown mop of curls that are frizzy and uncared for, white streaks contrasting the rest. They stick out no matter how much he tries to hide them. When he gets so stressed he tugs at his hair, he notices that its gotten longer since when he actually tried to keep up with it. It wraps around the curves of his ears and turns upwards at the scruff of his neck.

There’s a deep wrinkle between his eyebrows, a reminding mark of a general with a heavy expression going into battle.

His eyes look unfocused over cracked glasses, it always seems like he’s not fully in the moment. Maybe he isn’t, not anymore. His gaze only settles on the ways everyone has changed, when he’s the same person who stood at that button. His absent stare contradicts the heavy smile lines gained years ago. He can’t remember the last time his smile reached that high. Feels awfully forced these days, even when he is happiest. He knows he doesn’t deserve it.

Wilbur struggles with bright lights after being in the dark so long in limbo. His head is always throbbing, and by noon it feels like a very tiny man is pushing his eyes right out from behind. Sometimes he gets too overstimulated and can’t think or stand straight. Tommy worried about him, but he can handle himself.

He has permanent eye bags from decades of sleepless nights. When he puts himself on the stage to be perceived by other’s judgmental stares he lathers thick foundation over the darkest parts. he knows they would notice if he covered all of it. They notice every little detail.

Wilbur’s nose is crooked and hooked at the end. A bump holds his glasses in place where freckles spot his skin. He loves the sunrise, he likes the marks it leaves for him. Maybe the light is finally reclaiming him.

His chin is covered in scratchy stubble. It’s thick and itchy, but his hands are to shaky to shave anymore. He learned that the hard way. He could get someone to do it for him, but who would? People always attack him in the small, minor inconveniences. They seem to hit wilbur harder than anyone else.

His Adam’s apple is very prominent. He gets it from his father.

Two white scars cross down his chest, making an “X.” They are surrounded by dark, unruly burns. When he gets the motivation to change his clothes, he thinks about a fallen country’s flag, which looks very similar to his own body. A part of him hates it, a part of him knows there was a time he would live the flag with pride. He almost hates that more. Sometimes he feels like all he is is the day he got those scars, since that’s all they see him for. He tries not to think about it. Never turns out well when he falls in the pit that is his mind.

*weight mentioned ahead, implied starving as a form of self harm

Wilbur often squishes the fat on his arms and stomach. He doesn’t remember a time where his belly or thighs were this soft, only his ribs casting jagged shadows down his front or his skin wrapped tightly over his bones. It didn’t take long for him to get tired of the potatoes in Pogtopia. Or, that’s what he told everyone when they gave him that look. Pity, he knew it to be. He didn’t need to be pitied, not when this is what they want him to be. A man falling apart, another dog in the ring.

Wilbur thought it was odd, his new shape and stretch marks. He didn’t really hate it though. He is almost comfortable in himself, even when most of his meals were barely choked down. Phil likes to reassure him the healing continues, and he knows his dad isn’t a liar of course, but Wilbur tends to spill his uncontrollable emotion into every good thing. It’s whatever.

Wilbur has lumbar scoliosis, so right before his hips his spine curves into a “C.”

He remembers his mother talking to Phil after his exam for it. Her voice was wound up tight, ranting to phil about how he might be paralyzed when he got older. He can’t remember his mother much, yet that memory is clear as day. He would love to tell her he’s moving about just fine, except for the constant pain. Tommy says it’s normal though. (yes lets ask tommy for medical advice. sure king)

Scars litter his body, all around. Some big, some small. Some major injuries like The Final Control Room, and some are minor losses not even worth noticing during battle. A lot he doesn’t remember. Which might be for the better.

His fingernails are short and chipped. He expects it to be from clawing at the walls in limbo, the scraping sound makes him shiver to think of.

When Wilbur hits his head on doorframes he remembers family photos of him sticking out like a sore thumb in the line. He had his growth spurt early, and got a little too tall for his liking. Techno joked he was 1/4 torso 3/4 leg. Easy to intimidate people though!

Wilbur’s bones ache a lot. They’re old things, he thinks when he hears the pop of his knees. Sometimes the aching gets so bad he can only sit, which is embarrasing when he has to plop down on the prime path while Tommy gives him the worry look again. One time Eret found him catching his breath by the museum, boy he hated that. He remembered the last time they saw each other, when he apologized. Kind of awkward. He wished he could run away, like during L’manburg. A slight smile on his face when the breeze swept his hair back, legs moving in rhythm against the ground. He’s pathetic now, not even able to walk away if he tried. Potions never numb it as much as he hopes.