#Best Pen holder for desk

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic Idea: Marriage trap the Office supplier!

Danny had developed an appreciation for office supplies. He didn't know where it came from; just that one day, as he was cleaning his parents' office, he noticed their invoices and Order forms were out of order, so he chose to organize the binders.

It was just to make things easier to find the information when Tax season came around, but he found a strange joy in locating the correct stamps to mark each form.

Approved with a little thumbs up.

E-mailed with a flying envelope.

Entered with a little arrow.

Scanned with a picture of a scanning machine. Completed with a little check mark. Even the Cancelled and its accompanying x-out circle made him feel giggly.

Before long, Danny went hunting from some dividers and was excited to assign colors to certain tasks. He even made sure to separate everything by the order in which it was completed. By the time he was done, he realized he had no more use for his stamps, so he chose to go about the rest of the office.

He did not sleep that night. The next morning, the Fentons woke to their office lab in its best state since they had moved in. Everything had a place, and everything was neat and tidy with Danny happily explaining his organization system- all written down and marked on colorful legal pads he found shoved in a box.

Since then, Danny would excitably talk about the newest pen, sticky note, paperclips, or paper clamps he had found. Often, they were in strange shapes- "Look, Dad, these are sticky notes shaped like toast inside a Toaster holder!"- and no one could tell why it bought him such joy.

Even desk organizers excited him, often seen changing up his things every once in a while with new highlighters or traveling pens. His two best friends were often spotted walking behind Danny at any store within a fifty-mile radius of Amity Park that sold office supplies.

But that meant no one was surprised when Danny eagerly announced he would work in an office until he had enough money to open his own stationery store. What was surprising was that Danny somehow managed to find a job at Wayne Enterprise right out of high school as an office admin assistant.

A high-ranked one. He was the right-hand man to Bruce Wayne himself, working as a personal assistant then anyhting else.

It was clear across state lines no one knows how Danny even managed to land an interview since Mr. Wayne asked for at least a bachelor in office management to even apply or that Danny seemed unworried about living in a crime-infested city working for the man that was target a lot due to his wealth.

Danny only talked about all the superb brands of pens and notepads he would get with his new salary.

What was more shocking was how efficant Danny was at his job. He breezed through his work like a pro, getting Mr. Wayne on time every time (no one knows how) and cheerfully gaining the approval of the board.

Danny often stepped in for Mr. Wayne, Mr. Wayne-Drake or Mr. Fox, quietly becoming known as "Third-in-Comand" at WE despite the fact everyone knew him as "just the admin assistant"

He was also known for being very excited to show his desk to the office, covered in cute or interesting supplies from around the world. He spent hours schooling through websites and making wishlists of things he wanted to buy and try out.

Danny Fenton was a gift among the staff. He ran the office like a smoothly oiled machine, employing new systems and communication means that errors rarely happened in different departments.

WE genuinely feared the day he would leave the company to open that store. They tried to bride him by offering to pay his entire college career and make him a head of any department he wanted, or even officially give him Mr. Wayne's PA position but Danny insisted he wanted to open his store someday.

A plan was hatched by a low-level intern who had personally seen Danny take minutes with an invisible-ink pen and black light at his interview, only to witness the man fight for his right to have a paid internship and full benefits.

He mentioned how convient it was that Danny was close to every member of the Waynes. Yes. Bruce Wayne made it clear he would not be adopting the boy seeing as he was too old for that but what if....they ensured Danny stayed with WE if they made it the family bussiness?

Danny could still be a Wayne. They just had to get him to marry into the family, and WE could keep the embodiment of an office employee forever.

His idea spread through the company like wild fire, and not long, every single person who's checks were signed by Bruce Wayne was gunning for a chance to give Danny and a Wayne a wedding.

(Unknown to them, Danny is the hero Phantom, who, upon learning Batman's ID, instantly asked to work for him in an office setting because he wanted to open a stationery shop one day. Feeling blackmailed, Bruce allowed it, thinking he would catch Danny lacking, only to....find out the kid genuinely loved his job? And was good at it?

His kids are close to him as fellow vigilantes and are unaware of the WE employee's goal.

Danny just really likes Office Supplies. It might have something to do with his Ghost Obsession changing, or it's a Specail interest. He doesn't really care for the reason)

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Part 3: Let's Have a Baby

summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: MDNI, mentions of canon typical violence and death (ofc), implied child loss Note: The much-awaited part 3 of The Captain! Thank you so much for all of your support! And don't y'all, Part 4 is brewing ;) Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>

“Mohawk’s gettin’ particularly long, Johnny boy. When’s the last time you took any off the top?” Freyja asked, tugging at the end of a long strand at the back of his head.

“Dinnae dae that!” Soap whipped his head around and gave her a look of playful irritation. “If it weren’t for that wee barra in your belly I’d knock ya one, lass.”

“You wish, tough guy.”

“Just you wait, soon as y’return to full duty, we’ll have a square go, ye fuckin’ weapon.”

“I’ll block off my calendar.”

She and Soap had grown rather close since they all returned to England following the mission. As promised, Ghost spoke with Price, who convinced Kate to transfer her to the 141 permanently. While she was on desk duty for now, being on the same team would be tremendously helpful in keeping their schedules in sync. The couple could carpool to and from the base together, and John would do his best to keep them from being deployed at the same time.

Plus, she got to spend all her day with her friends and husband, which was a phenomenal change of pace from their previous setup. It was far less lonely being surrounded by the bustle of the busy base and having other friends to talk to besides Price.

They had a standing ‘play date’, as Price called it, every Friday night, where they watched movies, played board games, and ordered takeout. Board games usually ended in a heated exchange between her and whichever unlucky soul had crossed her (usually during Catan), her normally fiery temper heightened with each month of pregnancy that passed. There had been several instances of Ghost scooping her up in his arms and hauling her away to cool off before (any other) objects were lobbed at someone’s head.

One time, Freyja was in rare form when Gaz refused to trade for a material she desperately needed, and whipped a pointed dinner knife in his direction.

“What is with you guys and throwing bloody knives at me?!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air as Ghost dragged her off, screaming obscenities in various angry-sounding languages.

Soap jerked the blade out of the wall. “Dunno if I should be turned on or terrified,” he had said thoughtfully, turning it over in his hand. 

“BOTH, YOU SLIMY, CHEATING MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Catan was banned for a few weeks after that incident, and Freyja gave Kyle the following day off as an apology, though he insisted it wasn’t necessary.

Freyja lowered herself into a chair on the other side of Soap’s desk and leaned her head on her fist, watching him do his paperwork. She’d already finished for the day but was waiting for her husband to fetch her and bring her home to prepare for another Friday with the boys.

“So, Captain, any big plans for this weekend?” Soap asked, still scribbling away at the stack of forms in front of him.

She pursed her lips and shrugged. “Nah. It’s our anniversary on Sunday. Have a routine visit tomorrow to see how the baby’s growing. Nothing crazy.”

“Anniversary?! You didn’t tell me that was comin’ up!”

Her eyes rolled with a chuckle. “Soap, we aren’t showy people. Never have been,” she started, adjusting to sit straighter after having slid down in the chair a bit. Her round belly had started to weigh down her body a few weeks back, and she was starting to feel the effects of back and neck pain. “We weren’t together for very long when we got engaged, if you’d even call it that. We got married a few days later, as soon as we got back to the UK. Didn’t want to waste time, given our line of work.”

Johnny laughed at this, tossing his pen into a mug he fashioned as a stationary holder. “Oh, I’d bet he just loved slappin’ his name after ‘Captain’, too,” he joked with a raised brow.

The image of a spinning circle on a computer came to mind because that was exactly what she was doing. Buffering, her mouth open slightly while she processed his comment. Her mind screamed at her to say something, anything, but nothing came out as she stared at the Sergeant.

He clearly picked up on her inner turmoil, because he asked, “What? What’d I say?”

Goddamn pregnancy brain. “Ah…Nothing. He didn’t like me taking his name, actually,” she mostly muttered, unable to find a way out of the conversation at this point. “He asked me not to change my name and I did it anyway.”

“I don’t get it, why wouldn’t Ghost want ya to change yer name?”

Freyja sighed as she rubbed a hand over the top of her bump, a recent habit for comfort. The baby hadn’t been particularly active that day, only offering a bit of shifting. “You’d have to ask him, John.”

She rarely called him John, so he knew the conversation was over on her part. “How’s your back?” Best to change the subject and move on. 

She was grateful for it. “Terrible. Even sitting here is bothering me.”

Soap lit up and he practically jumped to his feet. “I can do that thing I saw Ghost doin’ last week!” He was already in front of her before she could even answer.

He had been relentless ever since he caught their cute little private moment in the kitchen when she was supposed to be getting herself some fruit to snack on. Simon followed shortly after, offering to get her fruit bowl together for her so she could sit down again. Craving some semblance of independence, she instead offered to cut up her snack while her husband took some of the weight off her back.

“Walked myself right into that one. You just want an excuse to grope my belly.”

“Me? Never! M’offended that y’would say such a thing, Bonnie,” he feigned hurt feelings, pouting with his best puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, fine! Come’ere, I’ll show you,” she laughed, high up in her chest. Freyja pulled herself up with his hands and moved them to the more open space in his office. “Alright, so I’m gonna stand here—“ She turned to press her back against his chest and took his wrist in her hands. “—then you just wanna put your hands flat like this—“ She flattened his palms just under the swell of her stomach, by each point of her pelvis. “—and now you carefully pull up. Emphasis on carefully.”

She groaned at the sudden relief, her head falling back against Soap’s shoulder as he just barely lifted her stomach. 

“There w’are. Steamin’ Jesus, how’s such a wee thing so bloody heavy?”

“Yeah, now imagine carrying that around with your back twenty-four-seven.”

They stood silently for a minute, soaking in the relief from the lack of pressure on her disks. A small hand dragged across the underside of her stomach, pressing against Soap’s hand. His chest rumbled against her back, but he held steady.

“Will anyone be coming for a visit? When she’s born?” It was bold of him to bring up such a sensitive subject, but his curiosity got the better of him.

“No.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

“I have everyone I need right here, Johnny. Who else outside my husband would give my back a break and hold my giant belly?” She reached back to jokingly slap his cheek a few times.

“Where’s that husband o’ yours at? It’s gettin’ late.”

A soft knock on the open door had her turning her head. “I’m comin’, Jesus,” Ghost said, approaching with his hands in his pockets, t-shirt tight as ever. He took in her smiling form, intrigued by the scene in front of him. He smiled beneath his mask, eyes crinkling slightly. “How are my girls?”

Freyja flinched, a hand flying to her belly at the sharp kick. She sported an angry pout. “Ow! That hurt, you little–”

“Be nice. She can’t help that I’m her favorite.”

She pulled out of Soap’s hold, sad to lose the help on one hand, but thrilled to see Simon on the other. “You’re so obnoxious. I’m literally creating her organs and limbs, making sure she has ten fingers and toes, and I don’t get so much as a single hand or kick. But the second she hears your stupid voice, she’s suddenly an MMA fighter,” she complained, shoving at his shoulder. “Un-fucking-believable. I hate you.”

“Mmm, sure you do. How will I ever get back in your good graces?”

“I want Chinese tonight.”

“I think I can manage that.” Ghost bent down to gently, but briefly, touch his forehead to hers, one of their familiar gestures to refrain from more overt displays of affection on base. She would occasionally give him a peck over his skull mask, and they often shared passing touches, but neither partner was a huge fan of PDA. In the comfort of their own home, they were much more obvious, even around the other members of the team. Just not on base (save for a quick romp. Or two. Or– y’know what, never mind).

“Aw, lookit ya wee sook,” Soap cooed, nudging Ghost with his elbow as he walked past, gathering his things to head home.

She giggled and patted Simon’s pec. “He really is!”

Simon grumbled but guided Freyja to the door with a hand on her lower back. “If you lot keep talkin’ nonsense around me, I’ll pop a gasket.”

“It’s not nonsense, Simon. It’s a beautiful language. One that your people just so happened to smother into near extinction,” she sang, pursing her lips in a challenge as she looked up at him walking next to her.

“OOO, sick burn, lass!” Soap smacked their hands together, laughing heartily.

“Fuckin’ hell…”

~*~

Simon checked the time on his phone again with a deep sigh, shaking his head. He detested getting to work anything past ten minutes early, and it was currently five past six. Freyja had told him to go ahead and toss their baby bag in the car, which he had done ten minutes ago. He insisted they keep their ‘go-bag’ (her word, not his) with them, either in the car on errands or on base during the work week.

The area around their front door was littered with broken-down cardboard boxes from various toys and furniture from the nursery. The Task Force had turned out to be extremely generous uncles, to the point where the Rileys hardly had to buy anything. Johnny and Gaz were by far the worst listeners, continuing to purchase mountains of clothes long after Freyja and Ghost begged them to stop. Enough clothes that she would never have to wear the same outfit twice for the first year of her life.

Not even born yet and already spoiled rotten.

Her boots weren’t in the tray by the door, so she must have gotten to that part of her routine, at least. He pushed off the door frame in their entryway, making his way toward the living room. “Frey, what are you doin’? We’re already five minutes late–”

He cut himself off when he laid eyes on the sight in front of him – his wife, now 39 weeks pregnant, attempting to contort her body around her bump to lace up her boots. Simon allowed himself a moment to watch in amusement before clearing his throat and grabbing her attention. “Do you need help?” he asked, about to kneel in front of her.

She grunted and shook her head, then tried to smooth the mussed-up fly-aways that had started to poke up at the edges of her tied-back hair. “No, I can do this. I just did it on Friday.”

“Darling, that was three days ago. There’s no shame in askin’ for help–” He stopped again at the icy glare thrown his way, crossed his arms over his chest, and sat in the armchair across from her. “A’right, if you insist.” He had long noticed that she sometimes struggled to accept help with tasks she could normally complete on her own, if not for a protruding bump being in the way. He knew if she really needed help, she would ask.

This time, she propped the heel of her boot on the coffee table and attempted to stretch over her belly. She was proud of the strength and flexibility she had been able to maintain throughout her entire pregnancy, up until now. Not many people could say they could even see their feet this far into their pregnancy, let alone tie their shoes. After another minute of huffing and puffing, fingers just barely unable to graze the laces, she held her foot out to her watchful husband and sighed. “Fine,” she mumbled, crossed arms mimicking his.

He smiled softly under his mask, blue eyes twinkling with silent laughter as he slid to his knees at her feet, pressing the sole into his chest. “Thank you,” he praised, taking his time to focus on doing her shoes up at the tightness she liked to support her ankles, but allow breathing room at her calves. As he finished up the second foot, he heard a quiet sniffle and jerked his head up to meet her eyes.

Bloody hell, not the waterworks again…

He gently pushed her legs apart and settled between them, his gloved hands covering and rubbing her knees. “What’s wrong, love?”

Freyja wiped her nose with the back of her hand, then used the neckline of her t-shirt to swipe at her wet cheeks. “Nothing, I’m just annoyed. Feels like I can barely function on my own.”

“If I recall, you’re the one who insisted on working until she’s born.”

“Fuck you.”

“Promise?”

She playfully shoved his shoulder, rolling her eyes as she scoffed. 

Ghost pulled his mask up to his nose, just enough to steal a long, soft kiss from her, fingers still gripping her thighs. When they broke apart, he swooped down to press wet kisses on her belly. Freyja put the fabric back in place with deft fingers. “A’right, we sorted?” He smacked her thigh twice when she nodded and offered her hands to help her stand. “Good, you know how I am about bein’ late.”

“Maybe I’ll get lucky and she’ll be an early bird like her daddy.”

“Better than always being late like her mum.”

“Low blow, baby. Low blow.”

They made jabs at each other back and forth the entire ride to base (lovingly, of course) and during their walk to their offices, only pausing for the occasional passerby.

~*~

Kyle handed off a steaming mug of tea to Ghost, taking a small sip of his own as they watched the recruits spar with Soap. Most days, the three of them worked with the privates for a few hours, varying from marksmanship, hand-to-hand combat, etcetera. Ghost tugged his mask up enough to enjoy his caffeine, the steam dampening the wrinkled fabric.

“How was your weekend, Ghost?”

He hid his subtle smirk behind the cup, the memory of their anniversary evening at the forefront of his mind. Ghost met Gaz’s gaze with a side eye, to which the Sergeant snorted with a throaty chuckle. Gaz fixed the brim of his hat lower to shade his eyes from the sun better. “Shouldn’t have asked,” he said, a bright, cheeky grin on his face. “Change the subject.”

Ghost thought back to that morning, snickering himself and cradling the mug with both hands. “Frey couldn’t tie her boots this morning.” He tried to hide his amusement, he really did. But both men burst into deep laughter, Gaz shamefully covering his eyes with his free hand as he imagined the Captain working around her stomach.

“Bloody hell, poor thing.” When they finally composed themselves, Kyle took a deep breath and wiped a stray tear from his eye. He sighed and placed his now empty mug on the ground, his hands now hanging onto the lip of his tactical vest. The Brit observed the training session, occasionally glancing over at Ghost to gauge his mood. Maybe he should mind his business, but Gaz also wanted to be a good friend to the Rileys. In the end, he decided to take the plunge. “I see it, y’know,” he said, choosing a careful tone.

Simon turned his head fully to shoot him a probing look, urging him to continue.

Gaz sighed to himself. In too deep, now. “Just something I’ve noticed. Seems like she’s done this before, s’all.”

Damn Kyle Garrick and his perceptiveness. How long had the Sergeant been sitting on that thought, watching and observing her mannerisms? Simon stood staring blankly at his companion, unblinking for too long. His heart clenched painfully, twisting and beating violently against his ribs. When his eyes did finally come back into focus, he covered his face again. “As you were, Sergeant,” he commanded, his tone stern and unyielding. Neither of them noticed the Scot break away from the recruits, reading a text from his phone.

“I don’t mean to pry, sir–”

“Lt?” Soap held the device up, brows knotted together. He didn’t make much of an effort to hide his emotions and was concerned. “Price needs ya, sir. Said he’s pretty sure yer wife’s been in labor for the last hour.”

The trio quickly appeared in her office, where she sat behind her desk, beads of sweat on her forehead as she typed away at her computer. John shrugged helplessly and then scratched at the stubble under his chin. About an hour into their daily morning meeting, where he brought her peppermint tea while they worked over files and potential recruits. They were mid-discussing her scheduled c-section when he noticed her breaths sporadically shake, or the muscles in her arms tightening for seemingly no reason. Price asked her if she was okay and was brushed off every time he prodded at her; when he finally had enough, he decided to call for reinforcements.

Freyja glared at the men, mainly aiming it at Price. “Traitor,” she growled, continuing to work through another contraction.

Simon tossed the keys to their car to Price, who swiftly snagged them out of the air and slipped behind them. In the meantime, he tucked his mask into the back pocket of his jeans, his slightly overgrown blonde hair and the top of his head sticking up. He sat on the edge of the desk, looking down at her as she attempted to ignore his presence. His foot slipped a little on the floor, and he found a small puddle trickling across the floor from the space under her chair. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked, impossibly soft and gentle for a usually deep, gruff military man.

“No.” She was an accomplished sniper and a skilled linguist and had been deployed on hundreds of special missions, interrogations, and rescues during her military tenure. She, however, wasn’t very convincing when it came to lying to her husband, especially when another sharp pain rippled through her body, forcing her to flinch.

“Wanna try that again?”

Her eyes watered uncontrollably, her lip trembling as she tried to keep herself together. The notion didn’t last long, and her head shook from side to side.

“How long?”

“Long enough.”

“Hm.” Simon turned her chair with his shin until she faced him. As he suspected, dark wetness was creeping up the fabric of her jeans. “We should get going then, yeah?” He tilted his head to the side, watching as she grabbed his hand in a fierce grip.

“Simon–” The woman choked on her tears, panic starting to claw its way up her stomach and wrenching her tight throat. “The OB’s out of the country,” she whimpered, barely a whisper.

“I know. Seems that she’s taken after her old man, like y’said,” he offered in an attempt to give her some comedic relief in her state. Simon could see the panic attack set in, and while he knew he couldn’t stop it, he could at least lessen its effects some.

“I was kidding.”

He smiled softly at her and squeezed her palm, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. “Don’t think she’s quite old enough for sarcasm, there, sweetheart.” He got down to his knees in front of her, sitting back on his heels, just under eye level now instead of towering over her. A familiar position for them as of late. “Looks like we’re doin’ this the old-fashioned way.”

She started crying hysterically now, nearly crushing his hand and cradling her belly. “Simon…I–”

“I know.”

It was as if their audience had completely disappeared, leaving just the two of them for what should be a private moment. But Soap and Gaz were still pressed to the wall by the door. In the months they had become close friends with Simon’s wife, she was almost always composed, her moments of hormonal rage the only outlier they witnessed. They’d never seen her such a panicked, blubbering mess, but Gaz had an idea he knew what it was about, even without specifics. For that reason, he chose to keep his distance and advised Soap to do the same with a tap to the shoulder.

“This–This isn’t the plan. I wanted…they’re supposed to take her out. I don’t want to push again.”

“I know,” he repeated. “I’m sorry, love, but you’ll have to.”

“Can’t we just–” A gasp cut her off, her features pinching together in pain while she rode out yet another contraction.

“No. We can’t.”

“I can’t do this again, Simon! I can’t!” Her chest heaved and she sobbed, struggling to catch her breath. Panic attacks had become more frequent during her pregnancy. There had been about five or six instances where an odd feeling or uncomfortable pain had anxiety washing over her, sending her into a spiral until they could get to an emergency room or OB, snapping at them to ‘just fucking check, for fuck’s sake’. This was definitely one of the worst. All of her meticulous planning, down to every nitty-gritty detail to ensure she didn’t have an episode went right out the window because a certain impatient Riley was eager to make her exit and simultaneous entrance to the world.

The world was collapsing around her, dark and suffocating. The cold pit dragged her back to what seemed like another life, where she lay curled up in a hospital bed, sick and hot and in the worst agony she would ever experience. Her bones burned and ached, struggling to sit still yet unable to move at the same time. Price’s phantom touch ghosted up and down her bare back in that place, brushed her sticky hair off her forehead, pressed a cold towel to her neck as violent sobs and forced, unnatural contractions tore through her—

She blinked when different, gloved hands slipped under her hair, the warmth of her skin bleeding through the material as he cradled her face. Her fingers slipped down to dig into his tattooed wrist. “You can, and you will. Take a breath,” he took a deep breath, guiding her through the exercise. He held the air in his chest before letting it out in a slow exhale, which she mimicked. Ghost summoned Gaz over and rose, pulling her up with him. “Good girl. Can you walk?”

When she nodded, Kyle slipped into the space beside her, offering his forearm for support. She knew Simon could have handled her himself, but it warmed her heart to see him leaning on their friends. John had been a great support system when Simon deployed on his own, but having so many hands to hold made her feel loved and understood.

“A’right then, let’s have a baby, yeah?”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @lethalchiralium, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[shocymer]

Incognito mode

"Your very first sweet and gentle boyfriend is surprisingly an expert when it comes to 'bed matters'"

Pairing : Yeosang x virgin! f!reader

Word counts : 4.1k

Contents & warnings : smut mdni! , office! AU, boyfriend!Yeosang, lowkey flirty Yeosang, a lot of fluff, virgin!reader, soft dom!Yeosang, nipple play, unprotected sex, multiple orgasm, fingering, oral (receiving & giving), squirting, cumshot, creampie.

a request fic from 🐈‍⬛ anonnie | masterlist | network : @newworldnet

“Ma’am,” a male voice calling for you.

You could feel his fingertips moving, started from your upper arm to the shoulder. Those gentle touches kept running on you lightly, then it immediately stop before reached the end of your collar to the bare skin of your neck.

Startled by the touch. You, who’s lolled on your revolving chair with closed eyes for a good minutes, bound to open them abruptly. You could tell who he was, the way he’s holding his soft chuckles, the way his sweet smile greeted you the second you opened your eyes and of course those familiar deep with the hint of candy like tone when he’s calling for your name. If it’s not him, you sure be mad by his action.

“Oh, I deliver the files that you requested before.” He put a file folder with dark blue colors on your desk surface without a cue.

You fell silent for a mere seconds as you contemplated on it which laying down just like that. “What files?” You wondered. Throwing your gaze at him, demanded an explanation.

He placed his hand to the back of your chair instead. While the other one nudged your innocent pen holder on purpose, which spilled its contents all over your desk. Widened your eyes at the sudden mess, you shouted in whisper while gripping a good amount of fabrics from his suit, “what are you doing?!”

He didn’t answer you, remaining unbothered. Choosing to tidy up the mess he made certainly was his best move. He leaned closer, cutting the gap between both of your face. Until you grabbed the last pen on your desk. He held your hand to prevent you from doing so.

A cheeky smile emerged on his reddish lips. While he blown a soft whisper into your right ear, “I remind you ma’am, don’t forget to check the files.”

No, you couldn’t take this anymore. What he just did literally ticklish your entire body. Meanwhile your head going to combust at any moments. Just like a bunch of butterflies swarming inside your belly mixed up with the uncontrollable panic, afraid if others catches this flirty lovers right away.

You looked around, while putting your hand to cover his mouth, slightly pushed him further. Proceeded to gave an instant glare at him right after you could feel his smirk underneath your palm. He raised both hands in reflex, backed off so easily as if none of his actions affected you a moment ago. Last but not least, he won’t forget to throw those signature smile before left you in peace inside of your cubicle.

Really, sometimes you can’t grasp his train of thoughts. It’s quite differences of the Kang Yeosang you knew few weeks ago, the first time you admired him due to his calm and gentle demeanor, and the one who just invaded your work desk right now. How he's so well spoken to others plus the way he handled problems in every heated meeting was really attractive. But in the end, he’s just a ball of sunshine inside and such a teaser outside after he confessed his feelings towards you.

That day was kinda a weird occurrence, since he caught you standing still by the office pantry entrance at that time. Your mouth gape open in awe, when a ray of sunlight which you don’t even know how stream through the window pane, hitting on his sculpture like profile. Even though he just leaned on the edge of table while casually sipping his daily intake of caffeine.

His angel like gaze shift on you. The long and well curved lashes followed every blink of his eyes in disbelieved, after the word “beautiful” came out of your mouth under your sense. Putting the paper cup of his coffee aside, he stepped forward to your direction with both hands inside his suit pants pocket. You felt intimidated as you stepped back in response. He cornered you by the wall that only few inches away before he said, “wanna have a date? But If you interested of course.” And that’s the beginning of your love life with him.

A pink sticky notes fell out from the file folders once you open it. You reached it by the side of the chair wheels. His distinctive writing style was scribbled so well by that piece of paper.

Perhaps, are you free by the weekend? If so, I want to spend a whole day with you.

- Kang Yeosang

“Oh boy, you could send me a word of text instead Yeosangie.” You mumbled while holding your laughter, thinking how cute he was planning this gig, pretended to deliver some files as alibi. You just bit the tip of your thumb nail after you realized there’s three unread notifications belong to his name, popped out on your lock screen that was neglected ever since.

You were writing an answer on its note before intended to deliver those back to Yeosang, "yup, come over to my place at 9 on Saturday ⁠♡” Shaking your head, you felt so silly by both of your action. Well, he’s a man full of surprise indeed.

⁠✧

It’s Saturday morning as the promised date. Unfortunately you got a sudden call from the office, asking to work overtime by the good weekend. Your mood was definitely messed up as you just dressed prettily for your one and only boyfriend, but ended up going to work in those smoking hot looks instead.

You swiped through your phone while walking in a rush before pressed on his contact. It rang for more than a good minute even after you reach the front office entrance gate. The time elevator’s door was open, you bumped hard to someone. Now what? After sudden work call and your gorgeous lover is nowhere to reach, what next going to ruin your day. When you looked up it’s your boyfriend Yeosang staring at you. His disheveled morning hair with some strands poking through made you exploded in laughter.

He pointed at you with a surprised look as both going through the same miserable ‘supposed to be day off’ in the office. You could see, he also dialed up your number, wanting to inform you due to this sudden event. So that’s the reason why your call never reached him.

His hoarse voice, breaking through your laughter. “I thought I was the only one.”

You wiped a little tears at the corner of your eyes, “No, me too. Sadly, I’m looking forward to our date though.”

“We can still do that after work, right?” His smile was reassuring you, while his fingers brushing through the strands of his hair that started to look a little neat.

As soon as the ‘ding’ sound filled the space, Yeosang and you headed to your superior office, wanting to get over this quickly. There’s some troubles on the office website per-say, he couldn’t update the office log plus the multiple errors occurs on the website following behind. No one can handle it in this very weekend except both of you who’s obviously forced to agree and as part of the IT division.

When it's partly afternoon nearly to the evening, everything’s finally done. The office website running smoothly, your superior stopped yapping and handsome overtime labor pay will be in your pocket soon.

Yeosang tapped the back of your hand, “let’s get some coffee before we head back.”

You nodded and followed him towards the office pantry. To be truth, it’s not that bad working overtime only the two of you. First, you didn’t need to be worried if others might found out about your relationship. You don’t like the idea of became the office latest hot topics. And the last one, there’s specifically written on the employment contracts about love involvement between the co-workers. Who knew you would date one of them, moreover it’s Kang Yeosang above from all, which is your junior a year apart.

Both of your hands holding a cup of hot tea, while you occasionally stole glances at your dearest boyfriend. He leaned on in the exact same position as that day, sipping the very same of his favorite coffee brand. That truly recollecting your bashful memories.

Sometimes, enjoyed the time together in silence became a habit when there’s only both of you alone in one place. Everything you do with him is literally the first experience. You never in a serious relationship, resulting all of it ended in short term. The feeling of uncomfy creeping under your skin everytime you get close with a man. But Yeosang is an exception, he never invaded your personal space without permission and his unpredictable nature as well is weirdly made you comfortable to be around him.

You threw the empty paper cup into the trash bin before turned to Yeosang. “I’m done yeo, let’s go.”

The second you almost reach the pantry entrance, the lights flashed on and off then it turn into a complete darkness. The electricity went out without a warning. Great! Why today is the worst day of all. Now you’re stuck in this pantry and gave up just like that. Because no matter what you did, both of you can’t get out of there. Like first of all, who’s idea to build this damn automatic sensor door for office pantry?

Yeosang pull out his phone, trying to contact any services. But after multiple attempts, it got cut off due to lost signal. It became worsen that you just twisted your ankle in order to approached him while in this blackout state.

He immediately crouched down, taking off your left high heels carefully and massaging part of your ankle a bit. Just a second left you’re literally in the verge of tears. He noticed how your breath hitched due to overwhelming feeling as the result of stress.

“Shh baby, it’s okay.. I’m here.” He pressed another side of your ankle gently despite its tough looking fingers but is the opposite by the way he care for you like such fragile little thing. “Perhaps, this side is hurting too?”

You winced by the sudden pierced of pain, “Uh huh”

He grabbed an ice pack from the fridge in swift motion before wrapped it using his handkerchief. It feels a little bit better once those ice bundle placed on your swollen ankle. You couldn’t see him that well, but you can feel his delicate touches all over the lower part of your leg. Plus the way his fluffy hair fell loose following his head direction just distracted you from the pain. Your hand managed to reach a few strands of it, sometimes caressing and twirling them a little bit. And somehow it’s effectively calmed you down.

Fortunately, the blackout didn’t take too long. All of the lights came on in instant. He looked up at you only to make sure if you’re okay. “Let’s get out of here, before another blackout happen.”

He peeled his suit, then putting it on you to cover your thin beige blouse. His face was awfully too close while doing it. Your heartbeats rate can’t be compromised once his soft cheek slightly rubbed against your earlobe. Surprised, you kissed him on the cheek by accident the moment your face turned to him.

By far this was the most skinships you ever did with yeosang, since you didn’t comfortable yet to do anything related to it. The way your heart skip a beat, waiting for how he’ll reacted. But there’s a slightest irritation surfaced after seeing how normal his expression was as if nothings happen.

“Yeo..” You pulled the hem of his shirt.

He looked at you by his lashes, who’s still busy taking care of you. “Hmm? What’s wrong baby?”

“Uhm, you know..” You’re fidgeting, “is your offer still valid? Like.. spending the whole day with me thingy.”

“It still. Come on, let me carry you.” He crouched, offering his broad toned back for you.

You were unsure about the idea of carrying you all the way home. “What if people looking at us?”

“I don’t care, just hopped on me. You need to get rest soon.” His palm patted on his back as a sign for you to hurry.

⁠✧

You just changed into the most comfy clothes you have. Drinking your favorite warm chocolate milk while leaning over the headboard on your bed. On the other hand, Yeosang just finished prepping your sprained ankle by putting a small tower of pillows under. Also, an ice pack sitting nicely on it.

“If you need anything just call me, I’m right on your couch outside.”

Your fingers intertwined with his only a second before he turned his back, “don’t leave, stay here.” You plead.

“Are you.. sure?” Uncertain by your request, he was afraid if you might be uncomfortable.

The heat came up to your cheek, hardened the grip on his fingers. “Yeah, I mean it.”

He plopped down next to you. Kissing the top of your head just to ease your nervous state. You could find his eyes staring down at you full of affection. “Are you good baby?” His half whisper voice hold you in choke. A hint of rasp of his deep voice just tickled all over your sense.

Your vision blurred, only focused on his pair of reddish lips. Bead of sweats dripping by your forehead, you never felt this way before. The urge to be swallowed by him overflowing uncontrollably.

He closed the gap between you two, eyes alternately up and down from your bright eyes to those luscious looking lips of yours. His warm breath hitting on you, closer and closer after each seconds passed by. He cupped your right cheek after putting your hair behind, “can I kiss you?”

Shit. Squirming your legs after felt something under. Panties clinging to your folds, completely soaked. You nodded, maybe at this point you’ll obeyed every words that came out of those sexy lips. Down so bad for him, but your inexperience self don’t know how to engage first.

He devoured your lips slowly, wanting to taste every single bit of it. Placing your hands to cling behind his neck, before he wrapped your waist to pull you closer. To your surprise, kissing was never been this good before. It’s numbing on every sense of you every time he sucked the softest flesh of yours.

He parted from the kiss, flickering his soft gaze but full of desire into yours. He couldn’t hold back, just the same as you did. “Love, can I touch you more?”

No thoughts, head empty. You only need him at this very moment. “Y- yeah yeo..” He smiled, his fingertips trailed on every curves of your body with nothing left behind. The way it surfed on you, looks like searching for hidden treasure. A high pitched moan slipped by your mouth, only to be suppress by his wild kisses over and over.

Once again, the kisses parted only to peel your oversized hoodie. You wear nothing under it, made him groan on the sight. “Ah.. my beautiful lady.” He continued the kiss while his hand cupped your plump breast, sometimes twirling on your hardened nipple, made you gripping to the disheveled sheet under. Incoherent moan filled the room by the way he sucked the other one. His eyes on you all the time, wanting to see how its pleasured you.

You let out a sudden squeal when his index finger landed on your wet clothed cunt, rubbing it in circled motion. Thighs closed immediately while your hand struggling to ward off his wild finger. “Pehaps, you don’t want this darling?” His pierced gaze looking for your answer, but surely didn’t want you to say no.

This time lust was take over your mind, you definitely wanted it. Proceed to part the thighs slowly while covering half of your face, hiding your shy demeanor. Well by doing so, you just gave him permission.

“Such a good girl.” He caress the side of your cheek before pulled off those hot pants carefully without grazed your injured ankle. Showing your white laced panties on full display. Only a few light touches on your sensitive clit brought the shiver down to the spine, while his hand holding one of your thigh to keep it spread open. It’s wet wet, once he slid off your panties aside. The way your juice dripping down, made him gulping in instant.

He licked those bundle of nerves, flicking on it side to side mercilessly. Couldn’t hold back his mischievous smile, after he heard those incoherent moans out all the way of your throat. Fingers dipping in between his caramel locks, tightening its grip each second you’re almost hitting a wave of pleasure.

Hips bucking up along the gushes of honey like juices spilled out of your already glistening fold. He sat up, still busy palming it while you riding down the high. With the audacity licking it clean right in front of you.

Skin flushed red like the tinge of ripe peaches, chest rising up and down catching for some air, you looked him with half lidded eye. There’s a hint of satisfaction drawn on his face. Then just biting his lower lips probably thinking his next move.

To his surprise, you changed position into all four. Ignoring the pain on your lower leg, only to crawl towards his direction. “Babe!? what are you doing?” He held your chin up, preventing your delicate fingers that was unbuckling his belt. “I- just want to make you feel good too.” Averting his eyes, you don’t know how deep shade of red colored on your chubby cheek right now.

He sighed, “there’s another time for that. But today, just let me make you feel good. Okay?”

You felt guilty, it didn’t fair that only you who’s enjoyed this. You’re silence for a moment, battling in your own thoughts. Afraid if he’ll judge how passive you were in bed. Yeosang could sense the way your over thinking self kicked in.

“Love.. look.. look at me. Just show me what you got. Mkay?” He said, didn’t want to kill the mood for both of you.

Your face lit up. Continued to unbuttoned his pants suit then pulled the zipper down before letting his cock sprung free. You’re gasping in awe, like it’s your first time seeing a man’s dick up close. The tip is a little wet and whole of its part swollen, looks like it’s angry to you. You wrapped both of your hands to it, stroking it in clumsy way from the base to the tip. Mimicking how it’s done on a porn movie you had watched a week ago. His cock is getting harder in each stroke, made you curious how it feels like when you put it inside of your mouth. You braved yourself licked the tip of it, then followed Yeosang reaction that just shuddered by the feels.

Until you sucked it fully inside of your mouth and started bobbing your head up and down, trying to pump his hard member so well. For once and twice it felt right, but at the third one he hissed as you’re front teeth slightly brushed those thin skin.

He pulled it out and replacing it with his two fingers into your mouth. “Imagined it’s mine.” He said while moving his thick fingers in and out, parting your lips open. Right before your teeth almost brushed it, he gripped your chin, just stopping you from doing so. “Nu uh, no teeth allowed.” Then continued pumping his fingers for a good few times.

“Enough for the lesson, now tongue out.” He ordered you after removing them out.

You obediently did what was he said. Tongue wrapping on his throbbing cock which is slowly entered your mouth space. You’re sucking it just like sucked on his two digits before. Tongue all over his shaft while bobbing your head. His right hand guided you gently by grabbing your ponytail. The tears dwelled at the corner of your eyes as its tip hitting the back of your throat. Your moan muffled by his lengthy massive cock for solid five minutes, then he pulled out shooting all of its load on your chest.

You’re coughing that finally you had a chance to fill the air into your lungs. He’s worried that he might did it too hard. But you smiled instead, so glad that you could satisfy him. You thought it was all done but his cock stayed hard due to looking at how such hot mess you are right now.

Lips swollen covered with your drool, the tears traced on your cheek plus how his cum covered all over your chest. He gave a quick peck, but the taste of him and you mixed still linger on both of your lips.

He pushed you down onto your bed, “now it’s my turn.” Stroking his throbbing hard cock for a few times, he lined it to your sopping cunt. It hurts, even after all those foreplay beforehand. He leaned over to you, placing kisses down to your neck, hoping it’ll ease the pain.

“Yeo..” You mewl, just gripping on his tough bicep.

“Hm? take a deep breath and relax a little” He kisses your forehead while caressing on top of your head to calm you down.

“I.. knew.. but I’m afraid.” You could feel he entered you little by little.

He looked into your eyes, “Then, you wanted to stop?”

“Ahn- no.. I- I want you yeo.” You jolted as half of his length is already inside.

The looks on his eyes were pure concern, he literally stopped pushing. But your tight pussy keep swallowing him, wanting for some more. “Are you sure? We can do this another time.”

Shaking your head, you didn’t have a single thoughts to answer him back. Just want to make sure, he read through your expression before pushing it all the way. You flinched as few drops of tears rolling down. It’s full inside.

He stayed still for a good minutes and kissing you lips softly. The way he started to pump you in the slow pace, melting you down. The pain is slowly subsided as you try to match his motion. Both of your bodies collided full of passion. Every touches and kisses done with affection, just sending you to the cloud nine. Your head gone lightly as feather. You don’t even know what was out of your mouth, either it’s his name or some sort of gibberish due it’s pleasurable sensation.

Your moans and his groans take turns filled your dear bedroom. He thrusted his dick faster as he almost reach the climax. The way it’s pulsing inside, spilling its warm cum made you wailing. Your body is twitching due to it filled you belly so well. To the point it’s spilled over you pussy like a light flow of open tap water for a mere seconds.

Still catching on your breath, he whispered something to dare you. “I’ll show you what’s real good, love.”

He placed his three digits inside. Pumped you in such frantically pace that leaking his thick milk out of you on every thrust he make. While his other hand pushed your lower belly. “Yeo.. yeosang.. st- stop!” You tried to move his hand away but it didn’t bother him at all. He continued his work, ignoring all your desperate mewl.

It felt like a tight knot loosen up at once, you’re squirting hard. Bursting out your sweet juices mixed with his cum, wetting on your boyfriend’s half buttoned white shirt and some part of your bed covers. It won’t stop as Yeosang keep flicking on your clit, till your body spasm for a whole minute because of endless stimulation going on.

You’re panting hard that you just dumb fucked by him. Covering your face, you really hate on every possible look you showed right now. “Ahh, It’s embarrassing”

“What part of it is embarrassing?” He asked playfully that just lay down beside of you.

“Isn’t it.. disgusting? I peed over you” You rolled over, facing away from him.

He furrowed his eyebrow, while pulling you back to him. “Honestly it’s hot, love.” He remarked.

“No it’s not.”

“Yes it is.”

“No, i-” Before you could finished your words, he silence you with a quick kiss.

“Listen, you’re incredibly hot in whatever state you are in. Even if you’re crawling, tumbling, or in bridge position. It doesn’t matter for me.” He poked your waist.

You giggled as it tickling you. His words is calmed you down, he truly love you no matter what you do. “Oh Yeo, I don’t know if you’re.. good in bed too. I didn’t know that side of you”

His ears is getting redder, the calmed and gentle Yeosang just back. He chuckled, “Then I’ll show my other side from now on, my love.”

[rae-pottah]

His Weakness

Fandom: The Rookie

Pairing: Tim Bradford x Reader

Y/n= Your name

L/n= Last Name

N/n= Nickname

S/n= Special Nickname

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns, Little spaced!reader, kissing, shitty writing?, it's a BBF so Y/n's brother's name will be Ryan, people know Ryan and Tim are good friends but don't know you and Tim get along this well.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If before today someone had told anyone who hadn't witnessed the two of you interact that Timothy Bradford had never been rude to you, they wouldn't have believed them.

*Y/n's POV*

As I walked into the precinct with two lunches in my right hand and a container of cookies in the left I made my way over to the front desk.

"Hello, how can- Y/N! Pleasure as always! You here to see Ryan?" Kai, Ryan's Boyfriend asked with a bright smile

"And his side piece!" I feigned offence as I held up the lunches

"Awe, Tim isn't in at the moment but you can go see Ryan and then draw at Tim's desk till he gets back!"

"Works for me!" I smile and make my way over to my brother. As I walk by people they smile and wave, knowing me from Ryan of course, Angela and Jackson stopped to actually say hello.

*Angela's POV*

After a few minutes of talking with Y/n, we heard her brother call

"N/n!" I had just put my bottle of water up to my lips when I heard the most beautiful word.

"Hey Ryan, I made you and Timmy-" I didn't hear the rest because I had spit near all of the water in my mouth on West and doubled over in laughter

"Are you okay?" Y/n ran the 20 feet back over to me worried

"I'm great!" I eased her mind, and she reluctantly left me and went to Tim's desk with Ryan, he ate while she quietly drew with the blue, red, and black pens Tim had in his pencil holder.

*Tim's POV*

I walked into the precinct after telling Chen to book the douchebag we got

"Tim, she's at your desk!" Kai called I didn't notice the huge smile on my face until-

"Aww, Timmy's smiling!" Angela called out

"You ever call me that again and you're dead" I snapped

"She calls you that." she pointed out with a smile on her face

"Yes, and she is the only one that calls me that."

"Alright, I'm sorry Tim." as I walked to my desk I heard the faintest "me" and laughing right after, it didn't bug me as much because I finally got to my desk

*Ryan's POV*

Y/n didn't notice Tim when he walked in, she always gets so locked into her doodling. He crouched down next to the chair and she gasped

"Timmy!"

"Hey S/n, what you doing?" he asked with his best smile

"Just coloring and waiting for you. I made you and Ryan lunches and cookies!" she said happily as she handed him his lunch and showed him the container of cookies

"Thank you so much, S/n!" giving her a kiss on the nose, now I knew he had a crush on my sister, which I most definitely gave him a huge talk about if he hurts her I'll crush his skull in, but the way he said thank you... had everyone around stopping. Anglea and Lucy were Awwing, and Grey, and Nolan were probably having heart attacks, while West just pursed his lips trying not to smile. I just gave him a warning look as he pulled another chair over and sat in that one

*Tim's POV*

While I was eating some people still looked on and off, not used to the domesticated me, but they weren't ready for what was about to happen, and to tell you the truth neither was I.

"Um- so I was thinking, you wanna go to dinner with me?" I asked slowly not ready for the answer. Everyone was shocked, except the girls... I think they might have been more nervous for her answer than I was

"L-Li-Like a date?" she asked, her entire face turning red looking down to hide her blush. I put my finger under her chin and began lifting her head up

"If that's okay" Somehow I think my face was redder than hers

"That'd be awesome" she said in a small voice

"Yeah?" I had to double check

"Yeah!" she nodded quickly

"Cool" I nervously laughed out

"Cool" she laughed out nearly the same

"DAMNIT" We turned to Kai standing next to Ryan getting his wallet out and handing him a twenty

"W-what?" Y/n asked confused

"I knew he would break first, he thought you would just kiss him one day" Ryan explained

"Well, I've waited this long" She shrugged and turned to me next thing I know her lips are on mine and I never want to let them go

I moaned into the kiss luckily as cheering erupted in the precinct.

Thanks lol

[scaredpigeons]

Aqua Regia II: putting down the roses, picking up the sword.

Previous chapter // Next chapter

Neuvillette x Fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

You get settled into your new position, but are you really.. settled? You realize something a bit embarrassing about your new boss too, best keep that one to yourself.

Authors note: this is where we get the slightest bit suggestive. I just cant help myself. HES A DRAGON COME ONNNN

The first thing Neuvillette notices is that his office is startlingly tidy. 

Now, he is not a slob by any means, and he prides himself in that fact— but since taking over Lady Furinas responsibilities, he’s found that keeping things as organized as he used to had become increasingly more difficult as the days went on. 

He rounded his desk, sitting down with wide eyes as he looked around at the new organizational structure of his desk. 

There is an incoming and outgoing bin on either side of his desk, filing folders clearly indicating which documents each folder holds, there's even a fresh pot of ink, and brand new pens placed neatly in an elegant holder. Across the room, against the wall in his direct line of sight is a very large calendar, Large print outlining each day's primary tasks. 

As he’s gawking at the lack of clutter, you waltz in, just as lovely as before, and he finds himself staring at you a bit more openly, though your gaze is trained upon the tray holding his favorite tea set, and a few bottles of clear liquid that he knows is fresh water, straight from the cooler. 

“Bonjour, Monsieur Neuvillette, I hope you had a pleasant evening.”

He nods as you set the tray down on his desk, carefully placing his teacup and saucer down in front of him. 

“Honey lemon, for your tea this morning.” You set the bottles down to the left of him, removing the tray to a vacant table as you continue speaking. “You have two meetings this morning, firstly with Madame Petra Voleange, who wishes to discuss the accommodations you spoke of for her son who was sentenced to the fortress last week— the young man in the wheelchair who was picking pockets.” 

You handed him a folder, which was clearly labeled and neatly sorted. “I spoke with the Duke, and this is all the information on what can be provided. Your second meeting is with Kemia, a researcher from Sumeru who wishes to gain your permission to gather information on local flora to aid in her botanical medicine research. The information she provided when booking should be in the top left hand drawer of your desk.”

He slid open the drawer, nodding at the folder placed on the top of the pile. 

You handed him another folder, much thicker and darker in color. 

“This is for today’s trial, which starts at 2:30pm. I’ve given you a mandatory two hour block starting at noon to take your lunch, and go over the information we have.”

You put a delicate hand on the backs of the two large bottles of water you placed on his desk, and he found himself staring at the way the condensation clung to your skin. 

“These are from Mondstadt’s finest spring production. I puttered around last night and was able to sweet talk a distributor into sourcing bottles from all seven nations, and he’s willing to send a bi-weekly shipment for us. Sedene told me that you are fond of the different flavors from all over Teyvat, and I saw that you only get shipments from the different nations individually, so I thought that finding a sole distributor who could outsource them for us would be much more efficient.”

He blinked at you, processing your words carefully. 

You stared right back, and as the silence grew, so did the pink on your cheeks. In the back of his mind, he thought it rather endearing that you seemed so flustered, so eager to please him. 

“Please say something, If you don’t I'm going to continue to ramble to try and convince myself that I’m doing everything correctly.” 

A soft breath escaped him, and then it fluttered into a chuckle, as much as he tried to stop it. Your gaze went wide, and you stood shock still, waiting. 

“This is wonderful, much more than I ever would have asked for.” He said, softening his gaze. He saw you relax, and smile back at him— and something inside him twitched.

 Since retaining his full dragonhood, he’s been struggling with new and confusing emotions, instincts, and for some reason every time he was in your presence he felt things he’d never experienced before. 

But—He felt so incredibly grateful for your assistance, so he tampered these strange emotions down, not wanting to speak of them and scare you off when you had just begun to better his work life.

You let out a dramatic sigh. “Thank you. I was so worried I had overdone it and you would be upset.” 

“You seem to have a lot of anxieties when it comes to your work performance. Your heart rate spiked the moment you walked in, and only now has calmed to an adequate level.” 

You gaped at him, and of course your heart rate returned to its accelerated speed. 

“I mean no offense by this,” he floundered— albeit gracefully, softening his tone. “I just mean to say that I wish you would feel more at ease here. You’re doing exceptionally well.” 

A strange smell permeated the air around you, sickly sweet and very enticing. He’d smelt something similar before, though much fainter, but he couldn’t remember when, and he knew for sure that he had never smelled anything so mouthwateringly divine as this. 

Was it a new perfume? Why hadn’t he noticed it before? 

 You seemed to turn an even deeper shade of red, before you nodded, bowing slightly before scuttling out the door, stammering about paperwork and your other tasks— carrying that sweet aroma with you. 

Strange, he thought. I’ll have to do more research into what this could be. 

He’d been experiencing many new senses since regaining his full power, perhaps a heightened sense of smell? He was not sure. All he really knew for certain was that he was thoroughly enjoying your presence here at the Palais. 

———————————————

The rain poured heavily this evening, casting everything in a deep gray filter, the dark clouds rolling over the city sky in thick droves. 

The trial was terrible. A child murderer had been left unchecked for too long, killing two boys and a girl, leaving one victim alive yet traumatized beyond repair. 

The young girl's mother had attended the trial, interrupting during the defense's deposition to scream at the accused, demanding retribution and revenge for her poor daughter, and the lives of the children that were lost before her. 

In the end, the woman had to be escorted away, and the trial continued. Justice was indeed served. But the look of broken rage on that mothers face stuck with Neuvillette the entire time, though he pushed it to the back of his mind to remain impassive to anything but the facts. 

The rain fell in thick sheets, soaking the streets and making everyone either run for an umbrella or to find shelter. He sat at his desk, back to the window as he listened to the sound of the water beating against the glass. 

With his attention drawn toward his thoughts, he almost didn’t hear you enter. He glanced at you as you walked past his desk, placing one of your hands on the window as you looked outside at the mess. 

“Wow,” you said. “It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?” 

Neuvillette felt guilty. 

“Ah, my apologies, the rain must put a damper on your mood.” He said before he could even think to filter himself. 

He wasn’t exactly trying to hide what he was, but he didn’t think you’d quite figured it out yet. 

“Why are you apologizing, silly?” You smiled. “I love the rain. It’s so peaceful and calming.” 

His interest was piqued, and he turned towards you in his chair. “Oh?” 

You nodded. “I’ve always loved the rain. Something about water being the lifeblood of the earth, you know? The cycle continuing, nourishing us— Washing away the old, bringing in the new.” You flushed a little then, looking down at your feet. “Ah, forgive me, I must sound a bit odd.” 

“No,” Neuvillette said, seeing some clouds part ever so slightly outside, a ray of the sun peaking through to shine upon the Palais, upon you. “I quite enjoy the rain too, on more pleasant occasions.” 

You grinned at him. “Perhaps we could take a walk then? It looks like it’s slowing down, so we shouldn’t get too many odd stares if we keep to the grounds of the Palais.” 

“You wish to walk in the rain? I do not have an umbrella with me, unfortunately.” 

You shook your head, walking quickly just outside the door, where you procured a navy blue raincoat with a large hood from some void outside his office where you kept your belongings. 

“I never use umbrellas, I love the feeling of the rain directly, don’t you?” 

Something in his chest pulled, and he cleared his throat. 

“Ah, I do. I didn’t think many others felt the same.” 

“It’s quite warm today, so I don’t think you’d run the risk of catching a cold— as long as you don’t mind getting your nice clothes wet, I think we should do it!” 

You beamed at him, not knowing that he had never had to worry about catching the common cold before, yet you worried all the same. 

You seemed to be unaware of just how you affected him, how brightly you shined to Neuvillette. 

He’d not known you for long, but he genuinely hoped that you continued to stay here, working with him, because he was actually starting to look forward to coming to his office, coming to work. 

The rain clouds cleared just a bit more.

—————————————

You’re going to lose your job. 

If you cannot get a hold of yourself, of these childish, ridiculous, fantastical ideas you’ve managed to curate in your head— your boss is going to realize you’re insane and fire you. 

At least, this is what goes through your head when you look in the mirror at the crack of dawn, preparing yourself for work. 

Just over a month at this wonderful, enjoyable and well paying job, and your wonderful brain decides to throw you into a myriad of dreams in which your boss, the chief justice and newly reigning figurehead of the nation of Fontaine, was the main focus. 

It started off innocent. Dreams about normal and mundane things that happen at work. This was perfectly normal and fine, it happened with nearly every job you had. 

You reminisce on days where your dreams consisted of you bagging produce at a local fruit stand as a teenager— oh, such simple times. 

But as the weeks carried on, your dreams tended to metastasise into something less than appropriate. 

It started with his eyes. 

One day at work you caught him observing you. Now— this was not unusual, Neuvillette was a very observant person, and when in a comfortable environment, such as his office, he was not very subtle. It did not bother you, especially when you were doing such mundane things as filling out reports. But this time, when you looked up to check on him, your eyes met— and for a moment you held his stare. 

His eyes held such a depth of colour, so striking and vibrant, yet so pale and mystical.  And the way he looked at you stirred some aching, foreign thing inside you. It was like he was looking into your very soul, at the blood running through your veins. You flushed, naturally, and hurried off to procure the fresh water for his lunch break. 

You tried to pray away the heat that was quickly rushing south, antagonizing yourself thinking that somehow, someway, he was going to find out that just a singular look had you nearly swooning like a hormonal teenager. 

This look then proceeded to haunt nearly every dream, and the most recent one was something straight out of one of those light novels from inazuma. 

In the dream, you’d been arguing about something, which hadn’t happened in the waking world yet, so your brain just conjured some petty and random cause. You’d gotten frustrated, turning to stomp off. He’d caught your wrist as you were walking away from him, and had pulled you close, staring into your eyes like he was going to devour you. 

You had awoken covered in sweat, desperately needing a cold shower. 

It wasn’t even all that scandalous. You dreamed of his eyes, of light touches, familiarity, closeness. And like a fool, this still sent your heart into overdrive, barely being able to look at him throughout the day. Ever since he’d mentioned being able to hear your heart beating out of control, you tried to get a handle on your nerves around him, but this new issue only seemed to make things worse. 

One day, around the two month mark, you thought you’d been caught. 

It was just another day, you didn’t even remember what you’d said to make him laugh, but it was a short, slight wheeze that pulled almost involuntarily from his chest. It made you grin, it made you feel light. 

“Oh,” he shook his head, chuckling out your name and smiling down at you from where he stood by the window. “Your sense of humor never fails to impress, you really are a joy to work with.” 

Your heart jumped into your throat at his words, at his light and familiar tone, at his genuine smile. You felt your face heat up, and your thighs twitched with the urge to squirm, feeling some rather inappropriate things for your current setting. 

You wanted to smack yourself. You were a professional person, someone who took their job extremely seriously. You were not some degenerate whose knees buckled whenever they received praise from a handsome man, a handsome man who just happened to be your boss.

Neuvillettes nose raised a bit, and he breathed deep, as if he was smelling the air. “See, there it is again.” He said, stepping closer to where you sat at his desk, working on the weekly reports. “That scent, I only ever smell it when you’re here. Are you wearing some kind of perfume?” 

Your eyes widened. What smell? You thought back to your morning routine, deodorant, a light moisturizer on your skin, you wore your bulle fruit perfume this morning, loving the bright and citrusy scent it gave you, lasting throughout the day. You told him this, and he shook his head, brows furrowing in contemplation. 

“No, it's not that,” he said. “It’s difficult to explain, it's sweet yet earthy, rich…and incredibly enticing.” He sort of mumbled that last part, though he seemed to be speaking more to himself than you anyways. 

“Rather puzzling, and it tends to happen in conjunction with your fluster, though I haven’t quite pieced together why you’re still so anxious around the workplace, I've been quite diligent with reminding you how wonderful of a job you’re doing.” 

You did squirm this time, feeling a visceral throb between your legs, and a sudden weight drop in your chest one after the other as a thought warmed its way into your head. 

Could he…. Could Neuvillette really be smelling your arousal? And on top of that, not understanding that was what it was?

For lack of a better phrase, you would say that you’re incredibly screwed.  

[imaginedanvrs]

my demon gave me everything

part 6 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 3.6k

warnings: established kidnapping, extreme abuse, power dynamics, manipulation, gaslighting, drugging, rape, developing stockholm syndrone

“You got a clock,” you noted as you admired the basic clock hanging just above the cabinets in the kitchen. You had been pouring yourself a bowl of cereal when you noticed it but pushed it aside to gaze up at the instrument that read late morning.

  “I did,” Natasha confirmed as she came up beside you to look at the clock. You stood in silence for a minute and you were grateful that the clock didn’t have a consistent ticking sound emanating off it. 

  “Thank you,” you said sincerely. The redhead nodded simply and went to grab her own breakfast but stopped dead in her tracks when her phone chimed with a sound you had become familiar with as some kind of work emergency. Natasha’s eyes scanned her screen like a hawk before she whizzed around and headed for the stairs without a beat. 

  “I’ll be back in a few hours,” she called back over her shoulder as she ran the steps three at a time. You nodded back unbothered despite her not seeing you and grabbed some milk from the fridge and a spoon, bringing them over to the kitchen island where you sat and continued to look at the new addition to the apartment. 

  It was only when you were half way through your cereal that you realised you had never heard a beep indicating that the door by the stairs had locked behind Natasha. It was loud enough that even when you weren’t listening out for it, you could hear it even from the bathroom. You frowned and leaned back in your seat to see if the Avenger was still lingering around the apartment but you couldn’t see her. You shovelled down a couple more tablespoons of your cereal before placing the bowl in the sink and wandering out into the main space and towards the stairs. 

  You froze when you saw the door slightly ajar. You didn’t dare take a step any closer at first, assuming that the redhead was standing just behind the door waiting for you to take the bait. You swallowed a lump in your throat and strained your eyes to see that something was wedging the door open, as though catching just as Natasha had run out. It would make some sense if it had happened so quickly that the redhead hadn’t even noticed, still, you were cautious. 

  You eyed up the door for a while, playing different scenarios over in your head of what could greet you behind the barrier. If it really was an opportunity to leave, you needed to take it. You were all too aware of how complacent you were becoming in the apartment and as much as you wanted to stop it you couldn’t seem to. There in front of you was a chance to put an end to it all. So you started up the stairs. 

  Your feet felt heavy as you trudged up each step, as though you were on your way to the gallows. You kept your eyes trained on the door, waiting for the redhead to jump out and even lingered on the final step to see if anything would happen. Seconds passed in a deafening silence so you pushed the door open slightly to see that it had been wedged over by a metal pencil holder and multiple fountain pens on the floor. You ignored them and continued on, taking in your surroundings as best you could. 

  The space in front of you seemed to be an open planned office. There was a considerably large desk with multiple monitors placed precisely with numerous other tech you didn’t quite recognise placed across the workspace. There were also several shelves placed near the desk that kept numerous ornaments on display that you didn’t have time to examine. 

  You continued down as the space turned into a large corridor with two sizable rooms either side of a divot. The doors were shut and there was no indicator of what was inside but you didn’t much care about them, you only wanted to find the main door that you discovered to be within the divot. It wasn’t quite what you were preparing for. Given the state of the apartment’s other devices, you figured the main door would have even more extravagant technology to it, instead, it was just a simple handle for the doors that always opened from the inside but always locked from the outside. 

  You grabbed the handle and swung the door open in a flurry of movement then haltered before your feet could step over the threshold. You were scared. 

  Ahead of you was a lobby perhaps two hundred square feet wide. There was a small white sofa against the far wall that looked as though it had never been sat on and reminded me of the ones in dentist practices. There was no other input of interior design or decoration to the room, leaving you to stare directly ahead at the elevator in front of you. There was only one button to the side, one button that could take you back outside. Strangely, you felt your chest tighten at the thought. 

  What would you even do when you got out? You didn’t know New York at all, you had no idea where you actually were, not to mention you had no money or a phone. If you explained to a stranger or the police what had happened, would they even believe you? Perhaps if you left out the fact that it was an Avenger that kidnapped you it would be more believable. But what was to stop Natasha from finding you again, she would surely know what your first move would be. 

  Besides…did you even really want to go? It was hard supporting myself, working non stop just to pay rent and have food on my plate. You were exhausted and it seemed like there was never going to be an end in sight. What did you even have to show for any of it? You barely had anyone to share it all with either. You had started to think you never would, that you wouldn’t ever attain the company you so desperately desired because no one would ever desire it from you. Everything was hopeless. At least the hopelessness you felt with Natasha was a secure one, at least that’s what you thought. You were always too preoccupied with fearing she was going to hurt you than fearing she would kick you out, because that’s what you thought you wanted. 

  Your head pounded as you attempted to process it all. You were there against your will. You had spent so much time thinking of ways you could get out, yet when you were given the opportunity, you just couldn’t. But you had to. 

  You took a tentative step over the doorway and out into the harsh lighting of the lobby and froze again. You hated it. You hated weighing up such a decision in your head, you needed someone to make the decision for you, to lead you away or push you back in. You didn’t know what was best for you. 

  You took another step so that both feet were beyond the apartment when all of a sudden you were being hauled back in by your hair and slammed against the nearest wall. You cried out and struggled against the crushing weight of the redhead as your mind raced with what had just happened. She was still in the apartment? 

  Natasha slammed the door shut with her foot, the obnoxious bang making you jump and cower further into the wall. “You fucking bitch,” she spat and pressed something solid into your back. You whimpered when you realised it was a handgun and felt bile rise in your throat. “You really thought I was so stupid that I’d leave the fucking door open?” She demanded. 

  “No! No, that’s not-” you tried desperately to defend yourself but Natasha didn’t want to hear a word of it, instead hitting the back of your head with the weapon with a dull thud you didn’t truly feel till a few moments after. “Please don’t kill me,” you begged, completely at the redhead’s mercy. 

  “Oh, detka. I’m not gonna kill you,” she cooed, condescending dripping from her voice. “You’re not worth the trouble.” You exhaled shakily and screwed your eyes shut as much as you could, awaiting an explanation. 

  “You know, in Iran, they still cut off the fingers of thieves. Sometimes even their whole hands,” Natasha explained with a storyteller air. You began to panic as you immediately recognised where she was going. You squirmed against her but stopped when she put the gun back against your back. “They make sure the low life that tried it won’t even think of doing such a thing again, it works perfectly. I always admired how they think and I reckon I can use that right now,” she explained slowly. 

  “No, please!” You whimpered but she immediately shushed you. 

  “You tried to run away, malysh, from the home I was so generous to let you into. So now I have to make sure you won’t ever try that again.” Without a pause, Natasha drew back her heavy boot, this time alerting you to the metal cover on the toes, and kicked your ankle with what felt like all the strength in her body. You cried again and would have toppled to the floor if it wasn’t for the redhead holding you up.

  “I’m sorry!” You sobbed. Unfortunately the redhead wasn’t done and pulled her foot back to strike you again, impossibly harder than the first. You screamed as your whole leg erupted into a blaze of pain, as though every single nerve ending had been subjected to Natasha’s anger. You think she kicked again, but you blacked out too quickly to know for sure. 

  Natasha stepped back when you passed out and let your limp body drop to the floor in a heap. She stared down at you, anger continued to course through her veins fiercely. There had been a point when she watched you that she genuinely thought you wouldn’t leave, that you would close the door and pretend you hadn’t seen it open. She was foolish. You had made her think foolishly. You weren’t any different to the others and the fact she had believed you were, even for a minute, made her furious. They all tried to leave, every single one of them. Even with your conflicting emotions you were ultimately no different. 

  The redhead didn’t wait for you to come back around before she held you by the back of your shirt and dragged your unconscious body across the floor to the stairs with ease. It was only once you got to the landing that you started to come to. You were merely confused at first as the room and floor moved beneath you but once you reached the first step you were immediately alerted to what was happening and your ankle flared up once more, this time along with your back as the redhead dragged you down the unforgiving steps.

  You made a futile attempt to squirm out of Natasha’s grasp but it was to no avail and you continued to be dragged down, each step hitting as much of you as possible. It felt like it was never ending and eventually the flat floor was a welcome relief although the burning in your ankle never let up. You knew straight away it was broken. You had never broken a bone before. 

  Natasha flung you across the bedroom floor where you lay like an abandoned mutt then hauled you up onto the bed. You made eye contact for a moment and you were struck by just how furious the redhead was. She looked as though she was using all her self restraint to stop herself pulling out the gun lodged in her waistband and putting it to your skull. You cowered back, unable to bear another second of those piercing green eyes and sobbed into the bed. You didn’t care how weak you appeared. You had fucked up so you had to face the consequences. 

  You thought Natasha was going to hit you, beat you, kick you, strangle you, anything like that. Instead, she walked away, leaving you in a defeated heap where you stayed for days.

*

  You didn’t understand what Natasha wanted. You didn’t understand what you wanted. You didn’t know what you were expected to do or what you should do. You were paralysed under the uncertainty of it all, always spending so much time figuring out how to even react to something that it was over before you even got half way to figuring it out. 

  When Natasha fucked you she made it clear she was frustrated by your constant lack of response. Your body felt too heavy to provide any kind of physical reaction to the redhead and you were too tired to be at all verbal. Luckily, Natasha’s touch still made you wet, even if it took a little more to get there, but you rarely came, too caught up in your head to be able to follow through for that long. It certainly didn’t help that you were in constant intense pain as the redhead gave you nothing for your ankle, not that you would have been capable of taking a tablet anyway. It constantly felt like your bones around your foot had been shattered and the skin around it mangled. Although you refrained from looking at it, you could feel that it was getting more and more swollen too. You would be concerned if you weren’t more worried about how to please Natasha again.

  As the days went on, the Russian only grew more irritated by your mental absence, of course not taking any blame in the slightest. At times, she wondered if you had reached your breaking point and if she should just put you both out of your misery, but something told her not to do it yet and instead see if there was anything else you had left to offer. 

  Little did either of you know that you shared a unique sense of betrayal. You had believed things were turning around, that Natasha was very gradually becoming more sincere. But her test had left you back where you started: unsure what to make of the redhead but knowing she wasn’t good news. 

  Meanwhile, Natasha felt betrayed that you had led her to believe you were different, that you would be the first one not to leave and that something new would finally happen. You had both been feeding yourselves lies about the other under the illusion of wanting something better. You were both fools, the only difference was that while you accepted the feeling, Natasha was adamant to get it out of her system the only way she knew how, to make you look worse. 

  It was by no means hard for the Avenger to get ahold of the muscle relaxant drugs, nor was it to administer it. You didn’t even flinch when she pushed the fine needle into your arm and let the fluid seep into your body. It was quick working, but you hadn’t even realised what you were feeling until Natasha’s hands were on you in an all too familiar way. Except when you tried to tilt your head down to watch her spread your legs, you discovered that you couldn’t. 

  Immediately panicked, you parted your lips to tell the redhead that you were unable to move but was terrified to discover that it extended to your mouth and you were only able to make a small sound of distress. It was enough to get Natasha’s attention although when you saw the small smirk on her own lips, your panic only grew. 

  You tried with all your might to move your arms or legs or anything but to your dismay, you were completely paralysed. It wasn’t that your body felt heavy or stiff, more that it simply wasn’t there. Soon, you had lost all sensation entirely, even that of Natasha’s. You watched on in horror as she put her hand to your cheek but felt no contact. 

  “What’s the matter, detka? You don’t like it like this?” She asked with a pout. You made another small noise in the back of your throat that only amused the redhead more. “Well I didn’t like how you were being before,” the Russian said simply. “You didn’t react to anything I did and yet you were still wet, so I thought it wouldn’t make much difference if I made sure you really couldn’t move,” she continued as she leaned closer to you. “Besides, at the end of the day, it’s really not your call,” she shrugged and took two fingers in her mouth before dropping them between your legs to touch you in a way you would never know. 

  Natasha took her time in exploring you. She knew your body well but was interested in the new way you lay sprawled out for her with no way of denying her. It wasn’t exactly how she liked it, there was no fight for her to win or control for her to gain. Not to mention there was no way to make you cum in such a state, but it was making you scared, and that was enough for the redhead to make her point clear enough that she was sure she wouldn’t have to return to the method. 

  Soon enough, tears were rolling down your cheeks for the spy to wipe away with a satisfied hum. You stared up at her pleadingly, knowing she knew you hated the position she had put you in and praying she would stop. “Oh this still isn’t fun for you?” She frowned mockingly. “It’s not the best for me either, detka,” she continued though her voice took a threatening edge. “But this is just how it’s gonna have to be from now on unless you start giving me what I want again,” Natasha explained slowly, prying herself away from you and undoing her belt buckle to display the sizable strap on she was packing. It was the same one that under normal circumstances you whined and cried when Natasha fucked you with it, at least it didn’t hurt that time. 

  The redhead crawled on top of you again and shushed your insistent noises, giving you some time to bathe in the anticipation before she was driving herself forwards. She dug her fingers into the sheets around your head and used them as leveredge as she buried her head into your neck. You wondered if she was leaving marks there. You hadn’t missed the occasional sound of her dragging her nails across your skin and knew you would find red streaks there as soon as you could look again. 

  By the time the redhead finally grew either tired or disinterested, the unknown chemicals in your body were starting to wear off. You had your nerves back and felt all the small touches and brushes from Natasha, even finding a faint voice, but your limbs felt too heavy to move so you continued to stay where you were next to the spy with her running her hands through your slightly tangled hair. 

  You lay in silence for a good while, neither of you attempted to sleep or make conversation, but just being content to lay still. You didn’t like what she did. You had never felt so helpless in your life and you had feared it was going to continue for a much longer period of time. However the aftermath was something you were more comfortable with. You enjoyed it on the rare occasions Natasha went as far as to play with your hair, it would have lulled any other time. It was almost enough to make you forgive her so soon as well. Knowing how pathetic that was, you forced yourself to hold the grudge for longer, trying to hold onto those fears. 

  “Why don’t you fight me anymore?” Natasha asked suddenly. Her voice made me jump a little. 

  “I don’t…” you frowned, trying to clear the fog in your brain, “I don’t know what you mean?”

  “I thought you had a lot of fight in you,” the redhead said plainly. You were too muddled to take the insult for what it was. 

  “I did fight. A lot,” you pointed out, thinking back on your attempts. 

  “I wouldn’t say a lot,” Natasha replied. “You did give it some good attempts, but then you stopped. Why?” You gathered as much strength as you could to peer up at the spy who looked at you expectantly. 

  “I did it yesterday.” 

  “No, you walked through an open door and I broke your ankle. You didn’t try to fight at all,” Natasha pointed out and at the very mention of it your ankle started to throb. “You only fought me in the first few days but then nothing for weeks,” you frowned again and put your head back on the spy’s chest, getting too tired to understand what she was getting at. “So why?” Natasha pushed again.

  “I just didn’t want to,” you said simply. 

  “But why?” The redhead could tell you were close to telling her what she needed to know to better understand your character but she could also see you were close to sleep and it would be hard to get you this loose tongue again unless she pumped you more full of drugs, something she didn’t fancy doing. 

  “I think…” you started, trying to piece together your thoughts. “I think I don’t want to go.” Your answer hung in the air. 

  “Have I broken you?” Natasha asked outright. She didn’t know the answer herself and wanted to know if you did. She was surprised to hear a faint, sleepy chuckle from you.   “I was starting to think you might complete me,” you said then fell asleep, leaving the redhead more confused about you than she had been the entire time you had been there. Now that was new.

[thegreatwizardbutterscotch]

The Sea Hare: Scene 1 

A Freminet x Gn! Reader

Reader is a theater kid, vision holder, and upcoming librettist. They have been close friends with Freminet for some time now, but as it would happen, the symphony of their hearts has begun to swell. Crescendo!

You paced around your studio, acting out a scene for an upcoming show that was being written. As the librettist, you were in charge of writing the spoken dialogue. 

“Constantine, you poison me with your words of calumny! The more I am beside you, the more I hate the people of the world.” you exclaimed in character. “No, that’s no good.” you tapped your foot for a moment before returning to the typewriter and settling on a different line.

In the midst of your work, there was a knock on the door.

“Enter!” you called from the desk.

Through the door came Freminet, one of your good friends, escorted by the receptionist for the building.

“Oh, it’s you! Evening, Fremi!”

He looked around the studio, taking in everything. A moving staircase with small spotlights. A barren stage below it and other equipment to the side; microphone stands, low quality props, and a piano covered by a sheet.

“Good evening. So, this is the new studio you mentioned?” he questioned.

“Mhm, this is where I work, for now. It’s a lovely little arrangement, nice and quiet and next to the lyricist I work with frequently.” you explained, rising.

Freminet wandered over to you. His gaze was curious, wanting to know more about your work. The two of you stood, simply staring at each other. You pursed your lips, awkwardly looking away. 

“Would you like to see the manuscript so far?” you walked to the desk, seating yourself. He followed.

“Sure!” he said, placing his hands on the back of your chair and leaning forward.

You handed back a couple papers you had already typed up. Some had pen scribblings on them where you had made typing errors.

He looked over them with interest for a little while, having ransacked another chair and made himself cozy.

“How does one write dialogue so well? Do you just sit here and think about it?” he asked, handing the papers back to you.

You chuckled and took the papers. Then, you began to traipse your way across the room to the stage.

“Yes, but I also do some experimenting. I can act out what I write to make sure it feels natural, and to visualize how the real performers might take it.” you explained. 

You cleared your throat and began reading from the page in your hand. “Oh, Mr. Letterman, you are too late! That train has already left.” you spoke expressively, acting as a train conductor. You then pivoted and took on a new role: “For Archon’s sake! …Perhaps it is for the best that I never see her again.” you dramatically turned away from the now invisible conductor.

Freminet cocked his head, amused by your little performance.

“You have such charisma, why not try acting yourself?” he asked.

You paused, arms falling to your side, the paper making a crinkling sound.

“My stage fright is terrible.” you admitted. “I can handle one or two people, but entire crowds… I lose my voice and just stare off into space. But I still love theater, so I decided to be behind the scenes instead.”

Freminet looked down at the paper in the typewriter.

“You write good.” he commented quietly.

You smiled at him, using your vision to swiftly appear by his side. He shifted a bit, surprised by your closeness.

“And what about you, dear Freminet? Can you act?” you grabbed his shoulders and gently escorted him to the stage as well.

He made a sound of discomfort being moved, looking around at the stage.

“No.” he said flatly. “I’m too… calm… for it all.”

You laughed a bit. 

“There are plenty of calmer parts in shows!” you reminded him.

“I know but you have to be so exaggerated so that the audience can get it!”

“Not necessarily-”

“I’m too shy.” he stated with finality. “I don’t… I don’t even know how to be myself around others half the time. How could I be someone else?”

You backed off, sensing he was serious. You took his arms and spun him in a slow circle.

“Individuality is easy to know but hard to express, hmm?” you said, walking over to the steps of the mobile stairway.

He sighed softly, looking down at his boots.

“You’re right. But you seem to express yourself just fine!” he turned to you.

You gave him a little laugh.

“I’m not as open as you think. There are bits and pieces I guard too, you know. And, it’s ok to be quiet and not be conversational, that’s part of who you are.” you ran your hand up the railing.

“I’ve been this way since I was a little kid, though, I feel like I should be growing more open as I get older.” he put his hands on his hips, looking up at you.

You leaned on the railing.

“You wait, little boy, on an empty stage for fate to turn the light on.”

You flicked the small spotlight on, illuminating Freminet and the stage. He jumped, covering his eyes with his hands. 

“Your life, little boy, is an empty page that people want to write on.”

He gave you a dry glance.

“Stop quoting old musicals.”

“Timid and shy and scared are you of things beyond your ken~”

You giggled, flicking the light back off.

He pouted slightly.

“You’re not listening to me.” he mumbled, crossing his arms.

You descended the stairs.

“I hear you loud and clear, but I just like seeing you get all annoyed with me.” you patted his head, passing by him on the way back to your desk.

He blushed a little, accentuating his freckles. 

“Rude.” he huffed, yet trailed behind you like a duckling. “When are you going home?”

“In an hour or so. Do you want to wait and walk with me?” you perked up.

He nodded in confirmation. 

“I’d like that.”

+

You strolled down the streets of Fontaine, Freminet at your side. It was a humid twilight, having rained an hour or so ago. The lights of the city were just beginning to stand out, glistening in the puddles.

You were both rather quiet on the walk. Freminet was always quiet, of course, but for some reason he was distracted tonight. 

Arriving at your boarding house, you faced each other. He looked at you expectantly. You wrapped your arms around him, inhaling his fresh scent. He was quick to squeeze you, resting his cheek on your shoulder. 

Of course you had to make all the first moves, no matter how much he wanted it. It was part of his nature.

He’s so touch starved, you thought to yourself, feeling a little flustered at how much he clung to you. His gloved hands pressed against your back, keeping you close. 

You gingerly broke away. His eyes were glued to the ground, a soft pink dusting his face. He had the sweetest smile.

“Night, Y/N.” he spoke, waving shortly and continuing on his way.

“Night, Fremi.” you responded; a little lost, watching him walk away.

You opened the door to the boarding house, moved inside, shut the door, and took a deep breath. 

Whoa.

You sank to the floor, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden. 

Your landlady looked up from her book and coffee.

“Oh? Y/N, what’s the matter?” she asked, a little concerned.

“Not sure.” you muttered absentmindedly, drawing your knees up to your body and staring at nothing in particular. Your heart was racing.

Freminet is the matter.

She set her things down, approaching you.

“You’ve practically collapsed, are you feeling sick or tired?”

“Ms. Maddie…  I can hardly breathe!” you said wistfully, your tone conveying exactly what you were feeling.

It clicked for her. Being an old lady, she knew quite a few things about youngins.

“Were you with someone you like?” she suggested.

“Well, it was a close friend. But I…” your mouth hung open, picturing Freminet’s docile blue eyes, “I don’t like him… like that.” 

That was more of a question now than a statement. 

It was ridiculous really. You were always affectionate with him, it was bound to grow genuine at some point.

Ms. Maddie chuckled as old ladies do when they find something amusing.

“He takes your breath away it would seem.” she noted.

“I’m being silly.” you closed your eyes, leaning back against the door. “But then again he really is so…” you hid your face. “Why is this happening!”

“I think, Y/N, you are developing a crush on this friend.” she stated obviously. 

“I guess,” you conceded, “but, that complicates everything. Now that I’ve admitted it, it will be harder to ignore it.”

“Hmmm… then maybe you shouldn’t do that. You never know, it could be mutual.”

You spaced out even more at the notion that Freminet might feel love for you.

Ms. Maddie walked you to your room.

“Now, if you need anything else you come knocking, alright?”

“Thank you, Ms. Maddie.” 

You locked the door for the night and prepared for bed.

Nice, cozy pillows and blankets awaited you. A thought slipped into your mind about being able to sleep beside Freminet one day. To see him tired and peaceful and resting rather than the diffident little sand crab he was normally.

I’m losing my MIND. you lightly smacked your cheeks. But maybe she’s right. I’m not one to throw away my shot!

You rolled over, pulling the covers up over your shoulders, dead set on finding some way to express these emotions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

sooo what do we think about theater kid mc? I just wanted to do something different i drew mimi on my computer but its too silly to use for the cover art

doodlebob freminet

Part 2:

[rottenpumpkin13]

I just had the thought that Sephiroth likes to bite and gnaw on things like pens, pencils, and markers when he is bored or doing paperwork.

This leads to everyone hiding pens, pencils, and markers where Sephiroth can't find them, such as in the vents or other, similar odd places.

In Turn, Sephiroth seeks out and finds the writing utensils.

And round and round the cycle goes, like a never ending game of treasure hunt.

Fluff be upon ye .・゜-: ✧ :-

• Not even Sephiroth knows why he does it⏤he's oblivious to the possibility that it could be an anxiety response, or an involuntary, self-soothing gesture. All he knows is that every pen he owns is indented with teeth marks, and each pencil in his desk is chewed beyond saving, and even other supplies like rulers and highlighters are spoiled by tiny teeth marks.

• It's an inconvenient habit, especially when someone asks to borrow a pen, but Sephiroth doesn't concern himself over it much. So what if Genesis complains that the nice fountain pen he lent Sephiroth now has a dent the size of a canine tooth near the top? Sephiroth can simply buy him a new one. So what if Angeal scolds him for biting the eraser top off the pencil he gave him? It still writes, it's perfectly usable.

• Genesis and Angeal, in turn, have learned that there is no place for them to hide their office supplies where Sephiroth won't find them. Angeal can't stand lying to him whenever he asks to borrow a pen, and Genesis knows that Sephiroth will go out and besmirch someone else's good pens anyway, so what's the point?

• They decide its time to do something the day Sephiroth's naked hands reveal that he's been using his fingers as substitute whenever writing utensils aren't available. The sight of faint bite marks, purple splotches and red knuckles break their heart.

• Angeal thinks it's covert anxiety, Genesis is sure that he's trying to soothe himself when his mind wanders, either men know that Sephiroth needs something to distract his mouth while he's working. Angeal reprimand's Genesis's suggestion to gift Sephiroth teething toys, but he's sold on the idea of candy.

• They look duly out-of-place buying out the local convenience store's entire stock of chewing gum, taffy and hard candy. They look even more odd fussing and arguing over which flavors Sephiroth will like best.

• They stock up Sephiroth's office when he's away on an assignment, filling his drawer with a neat row of gum packs, placing lollipops in his pen-holder, and littering any open space with hard candy. They make sure to make it look as if Sephiroth himself had bought the sweets, haphazardly thrown them wherever, and forgotten about it.

• The end result is positive. They're pleased to see Sephiroth with a lollipop in his mouth whenever they swing by his office, or chewing gum as he furiously as he writes things down. It's a win-win situation⏤all of their pens are spared, Sephiroth's biting habits have ceased, and if he has more sweets in his diet now, so what? He deserves to indulge.

• Genesis and Angeal make sure to keep his drawers stocked, going down to the convenience store once a week and picking out all of Sephiroth's favorite candy. They think he doesn't know where it's all coming from, that he's blissfully unaware of how much they care for him and can't stand to see him taking out his anxiety on his poor fingers.

• Sephiroth, in turn, finds it hilarious that Genesis doesn't know where that expensive red quill pen came from, or when he marvels at how his favorite gel pens seem to never run out. He thinks it's sweet how excited Angeal is when he finds a pack of brand new pencils in his desk drawer, and tries his hardest to remember when he bought himself an electric pencil sharpener shaped like a plant.

• They will never find out it's him, and Sephiroth will forever be grateful for their caring gesture.

[solaris-amethyst]

🪻Please save Mr. Fishy🪻

✨Pairing: non idol!Hendery x vet!gn!reader ✨Prompt: You're a vet and he's pleading with you to save his goldfish since you're the only vet he's visited that hasn't asked him if he doesn't just want to go and buy another goldfish for three dollars. ✨Word count: 1.4k ✨Genre: fluff, humor ☀️Authors note: I've never really written humor before, I'm not even sure I did a good job so do let me know if it was good or not. Or if you just enjoyed this one shot or not?🥰 Also I am not a vet nor a vet student so take what I've written with a grain of salt lol. I am no expert when it comes to fishes and vet terms😅

Today was not like any other day at the clinic. It was unusually calm for a vet clinic and maybe you should enjoy the serenity which is often times unusual for you. Your colleagues had gone for their lunch breaks since it was so calm with not a soul in sight and you decided that sorting through the boxes would be a good thing to do now. Sort out what would be necessary to keep and what could actually be thrown away. Your colleague, Sam, had mentioned that everyone always said they'd sort the boxes out but no one had the time nor energy to do so.

"Let's see what we got then." You mumbled to yourself as you put on the radio, enjoying the slow tune of Celine Diones It's all coming back back to me now, the slow piano in the begging matching the calmness as you hummed along while pouring everything on the front desk. Pens, erasers, bobby pins, receipts, pieces of chocolate and much more fell out of the box. You started by going through all of the receipts, some of them were simple lunch receipts that your colleagues must have put in the boxes when they had bought lunch. You threw them all away in the trash can, they were more than a month old and it was hard to imagine anyone really would need a month old food receipt. Next came organizing all of the paperclips, there were way more than you had anticipated but it was nice finally having a lot of them again after going months not figuring out where all of them had gone.

The chocolate you put in a little bowl and put at the front of the desk to give to any owners coming in that might need some extra reassurance or something to calm their nerves as their beloved pet was taking in for surgery or a check up. Just as you were collecting all of the colorful pens to put away in the pen holder you saw outside of the big windows o your clinic a man rushing with incredible speed, you could not help but follow his eyes as he rushed towards the clinics doors, almost slipping past them only managing to stop himself by grabbing onto the door handle simultaneously as he slipped down because of his speed.

The wet pavement and the autumn leaves probably made it even more slippery and from what you could see and hear he had let out a shout in surprise whilst looking down at something he was holding. You started to clear some space on the desk in case he were to enter and just as you looked up again the door flew open and the man who had brown hair and a khaki green autumn jacket on barged in looking around until he saw you. "Help! Please you have to help me!" He said before rushing up to you and putting something on the desk.

"Please help save Mr. Fishy!! I cannot live without him! He's my best friend and number one supporter please I need to have him live longer!!"

You stared at him in shock not expecting him to barge in and hurriedly put a fishbowl on your desk, a fishbowl which had a very sad looking goldfish in it.

"Oh umm hello? Of course I can try and help you? What seems to be the problem with umm.. Mr. Fishy?" You asked him before looking down at the fish to see if you could figure out what the problem might be.

"No please I cannot buy another one for three doll-wait what?! You-you'll help me??" This made you look up at the man who looked at you in shock.

"Of course, we're a vet clinic and while a gold fish usually isn't a part of our visitors I cannot say no to you? I'll do my best to help your fish if you know what the problem might be?"

"Oh thank you thank you for wanting to help him! Everyone I've gone to have just told me to go and buy another one for three dollars. He suddenly started to swim weirdly and he hasn't been eating properly for a few days and I'm really worried. Just please do whatever it takes to help him. He's my favorite fish please and the snails in his tank would be so sad if he suddenly disappeared and the guppys and the discus will all be so sad if he passes away hes like the boss of the aquarium everyones best friend so please please please help him!!" The man was practically leaning over on the desk begging for you to help his fish and you couldn't help but feel bad for him. He obviously cared about the fish a lot.

"Let me take him inside to the vet room and check on him okay? You wait out here and try to calm down and then we can fix with payment and such after it." You gave him a smile as he thanked you profusely before allowing you to take the fishbowl with his little fish he cared for into the other room. As you walked in you put the bowl down on a table and put on some gloves so you can handle the fish carefully.

"Let's figure out what is wrong with you my little friend." You mumble for yourself as you put your hands into the bowl carefully to look closer at him.

-

It took you a while to figure out what was wrong with the little guy, he was having a case of fin rot on one of his fins, at first it wasn't very visible until you looked closer, you had to remove a part of his fin-nippers and use some anti-fungal treatment to make sure that he doesn't get infected again. When you walked out with the little fish the man stood up and rushes to the counter staring at you with hope.

"You do not have to worry, Mr. Fishy is alright. I had to remove a part of his fin-nippers because he had a case of fin rot. I've given him treatment but what you need to do to make sure hes okay in your tank at home is to improve the water quality in the tank and feed him vitamin c enriched food and he should be good to go."

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!!" He bowed towards you multiple times "What's your name?? I need to have a name for Mr. Fishy's savior!!" He stares at you with grateful eyes.

"My name is y/n. I'm glad I could help you and Mr. Fishy."

"Thank you again! I'm Hendery by the way! I'll pay however much it cost and I'll pay you back for your kindness."

You thanked him and told him he really did not have to pay you back a part from paying the fee. He payed and told you he'd pay you back for sure in the future before going back with his fish and the new food for his friend.

-a few days later-

The doorbell rang as the door opened again and when you looked up from the desk you saw Hendery walking in beaming as he was holding a cup walking towards you.

"I told you I'd pay you back! I got you a cup of hot chocolate! I wasn't sure If you'd like coffee but most people like chocolate so I got that!" He smiled as he handed you the cup.

"Thank you Hendery it wasn't really necessary for you to get me something I promise." you responded as you took the cup

"I wanted to okay? I gotta go but I'll see you around!" He waved as he ran out of the door again and when you looked at the cup you could see he had written a little note thanking you and asking if you wanted to hang out in the future with his number written under a little fish drawing.

You smiled as you took up your phone to put in his number, saving him as Mr. Fishy Hendery before deciding to send a text asking if he was free to hang out next Friday, smiling even brighter when you immediately got a text back saying that Friday would be perfect.

Maybe it wasn't so bad after all to help save Mr. Fishy.

[blackoutspoetry]

"He's already five, he can take care of himself" – baby Soap full scene

From this:

First few chapters on ao3 here:

July 18, 1999

“Mrs. MacTavish, thank you so much for taking the time out of your day to be here with us,” the man behind the desk began, adjusting the pen holder to his left ever so slightly in a futile attempt to alleviate the tense atmosphere as he made earnest eye contact with the woman opposite him, ignoring the child in the chair next to her as best possible.

“Any time. The woman on the phone told me it was urgent. Did something happen, is John okay?” 

“Your son is fine, ma’am, but we have some concerns about his recent behaviour,” the principal continues and Mrs. MacTavish can almost immediately sense the unease in her son next to her. 

“His behaviour?” she asks with a frown. “Has he fallen behind in his classes?” 

She glances sideways at him, but the child refuses to meet her eyes, just keeps swinging his feet slightly under the plastic chair. 

“No, really. His grades are good. It's just– we’re concerned about his mental health.” 

“His mental health…” the woman repeats slowly. 

“Yes. is everything alright at home? I know it’s common for students to act out when their parents are having marital issues–” 

“My marriage is just fine, thank you, and we don’t have any other issues at home. So if you don’t mind me asking, what is it that I’m actually here for?” she asks impatiently and the principal gives her a slightly uncomfortable look. 

“John, do you want to tell your mother what happened?” 

Just a slight, sheepish shake of the head. 

“Tell me what?”

The man sighs. “Your son has gotten into a physical altercation with an older student. He broke the kid’s nose.” 

“John!” she shrieks in alarm. “Is this true?” 

He didn’t raise his head to face her. “He hit me first.” 

“So you hit him harder?” she asks incredulously before she turns back to the man on the opposite side of the desk, now sitting with his hands firmly clasped together in front of him. 

“Are you going to suspend him?”

“We’re not sure yet. The other boy has a history of bullying and getting violent, so it's difficult to distinguish between right and wrong here, but it isn’t the only thing we’re concerned about. Several teachers have come forward with some disturbing drawings he’s done in the margins of his books.” 

“I had to leave work early because he’s been drawing in his books?” 

“We’re more concerned about what he’s been drawing, Mrs. MacTavish,” he explains in uncomfortable tone before he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a crumpled piece of scrap paper meant for maths working, but half of it was taken up by a crude stickman drawing done in blunt pencil and coloured in with uneven streaks of red whiteboard marker. 

The wobbly picture depicted a man lying on the ground, surrounded in a scribble of red and another stick figure standing over it with what appeared to be the child’s best impression of a gun. The man on the ground was captioned in sloppy, childlike handwriting “RUSHIИ SOLJER”. 

The principal produced another picture depicting what looked to be a burning house and a man on fire. 

“How limited is his exposure to the situation in Urzikstan right now?” 

“Not very limited. My husband’s been following the situation since it began last month. It’s all he can talk about right now.” 

“Well, you may want to consider talking to your husband about limiting John’s exposure to the news. We’ll be in further contact with you if we do decide to take action, but for now, that’s all we really have an issue with.” 

Wrapping up with the general formalities, John sat in silence until his mother and the principal had finished discussing his school matters and prodded him into giving a begrudging apology for his behaviour. They sent him on his way with half his things out of his school bag in his hands and he refused to make eye contact with his mother as she opened the door for him and he shuffled in after his school things. 

The drive was a stale silence for a few minutes but she kept trying to make eye contact with him in the rear view mirror, despite his unwillingness. He gave her a glance a couple of minutes in and she took that as an opportunity to force him to speak. 

“Does that stuff on the news really bother you that much? I’ll tell your father not to watch it with you in the house, if that’s going to help you?” 

No response and she sighs. “Listen, I understand these things can make you upset. Other people, especially children your age, they can be mean. They just haven’t learned yet, but you can’t just hit them. You know, if an adult hits another adult, they can go to jail for that.”

Her eyes found him in the mirror, picking irritably at a hangnail with his teeth. 

“Johnny, will you talk to me?” 

“I’m not a little baby anymore, I don’t like it when you call me that.”

“Alright, I won’t. But will you talk to me?” 

“Da says its good for me to know what’s going on in the world. He says age restriction is a load of shite,” he grumbles, crossing his arms and sinking further into his seat.  

“John!” she yelled. “You are not allowed to say that word. And I’m going to have a good talk with your father, he should know better than to let you watch that stuff.” 

“Whatever.” 

“What was that?” 

“...nothing.” 

By the time they reached home, John was eagerly shoveling overdue homework assignments back into his school bag and running up the driveway before his mother could corner him again. The door was half ajar, propped open with a doorstop for the dog to come in and out, and he could already here the TV from the front door before he emerged into the dining room right behind the couch. 

“Reports from earlier this morning confirm that a fresh wave of Russian forces have come in across the border. Following their attack on Riyzabbi last month, several of the civilian casualties are still in dire need of medical care and most are being treated in field hospitals with limited access to medicine and potable water. Efforts have been made to move those in critical condition to hospitals for urgent treatment, but as of this morning, with heightened Russian presence patrolling the roads, it has become nearly impossible to move patients out of the area.” 

John discarded his school bag by the foot of the table and glanced over at the TV, only slightly blocked out by his father’s head in the way as his eyes were still glued to the screen in grim fascination. His father clicks the sound button a couple of times as he hears his mother coming in at the door, turning to face her with a grim look on his face. 

“Did you see? They’ve got about the entire Russian army into Urzikstan overnight. They’ve now started putting young kids into labour camps–” 

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t watch that stuff with the children around.”

John watches tight lipped as his mother walks irritably towards the TV and shuts it off. 

“I was watching that!” 

“The school called me in today. Say’s John’s been drawing all kinds of horrors from the TV in his books and he’s starting to pick fights with other boys.” 

“It’s not because of the TV.” 

“He broke a boy’s nose.” 

His father shoots him a look. “Is this true?” 

Before John can respond, his mother cuts in.  “It is. And now that we’re on that topic, you can go to your room and get started on all those overdue English assignments I heard about today and I don’t want to see you out that door until your sisters are home for dinner.” 

He clenches his jaw and opens his mouth to say something, but the warning look he receives from his mother makes him decide against it. Instead, he grabs his school bag and slinks off to his room, shutting the door behind him. 

Its a right mess in there. There’s little toy soldiers scattered across the carpet from the weekend, multicoloured lego walls he’d built and piles of loose bricks he’d artfully arranged to reenact the attack they’d showed on the news weeks before. 

On his desk under the window was a handful of plastic toy soldiers he’d singled out to impose himself and a few of his school friends onto. They’d rescue the injured, take care of the sick and kill the bad guys. He was just trying to do what’s right. 

Can’t his family see that? Can’t his teachers understand that he isn’t haunted by the images on the news and more so inspired to do good by it?

He frowns down at the scene on the carpet and dumps his school bag on his unmade bed. 

He’s only ever wanted to do what’s right. Nobody understands that. 

And so, he makes a decision for himself that will stick with him through his school years onwards. He’s going to be his own man. No one is ever going to tell him what he can and can’t be. 

He’s already five, he can take care of himself.  

[yelenasdiary]

Hello, I saw that you have your requests open (and I love your writings) so...

You can do a ff where reader and Natasha are getting divorced. Reader is starting to date someone else, while Natasha still can't get over her… but of course, with a happy ending. please?

💕

Another Chance

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When another door closes, another opens, right?  

Angst | Fluff | 2.3K | 

Translation: dorogoy (sweetheart), YA lyublyu vas (I love you)

AC: Wrote this while my friend was passed out asleep snoring so freaking loud! 

"Nat please! it's almost been 12 months! I need you to just sign the damn divorce papers" you spoke sternly with your arms crossed while looking at the red head who stood defeated in front of you. "I've been busy, I'm sorry" she mumbled as she searched the top drawer of her office for a pen. Any excuse to prolong the awaited divorce with a stack of mixed pens sitting in the pen holder in front of her. "You keep saying that Nat" you replied with a roll of your eyes. 

It wasn't easy 11 months ago when you placed the papers on Natasha's side of the bed before you left to stay with your best friend. After countless nights of arguments and drunken words being thrown between the two of you, it was time to admit that your marriage had fallen apart. After every heated fight you would lock yourself away in the bathroom with tears streaming down your face as you wondered how on earth the two of you had gone to this point. Screaming at each other over things that simply didn't matter after 5 minutes. You never asked for Natasha to give up most of her workload, she did it purely because she loved you, but you saw in her eyes how much she missed being on missions with her other family. 

Most nights you'd come home from work to the shared home dark and painfully quiet with the bedroom light on and the door closed. Not even getting a simple hello was even to start an argument between the two of you. As the tension went on, the more Natasha closed herself off and then you found yourself coming home to an empty house, only to be woken up in the early hours of the morning when Natasha would stumble into the bedroom smelling of booze and cigarette.

"Here!" You grabbed a pen from the holder and placed it on top of the white stack of paper with printed words, "just sign them, please".

"Can't we work this out?" Natasha looked up at you with eyes of hurt, "this isn't like us" she added. "Natasha please, I don't want to go through this again…we tried. We did the therapy, and it didn't do anything…I need to move on, I want to move on" you admitted as you took a slight step back away from her desk. Natasha sighed as she threw herself onto the chair as she took another quick look over the agreement, her eyes locked onto the only signature on them. "You'll have to get another one drafted up" she spoke, breaking the silence. You frowned and shook your head, "No more stalling Natasha, please I just need you to sign them so I can finally go on a –"you paused quickly before finishing your sentence. Natasha slowly looked up at you, placing the blue pen gently back on the paper. 

"So, you can what?" She asked, searching your eyes for the answer she could only wish wasn't true. "It doesn't matter" you mumbled with sorry in your tone. "Are you seeing somebody?" Natasha asked with a slight tilt of her head. Your eyes dropped for a moment knowing you couldn't hide the fresh relationship with your new partner any longer. "Yeah" you nodded as your eyes reconnected with Natasha's, only then did you finally see something shift inside her. "Oh" she grabbed the pen, "well, I'm uh, I'm happy for you" she added before placing the bed back into the pen holder. "Thanks" you smiled ever so softly. 

"I can't sign these; I don't agree to them anymore. We need to get them redone" she spoke with a stern voice as she placed the papers back into the yellow envelope. "What are you talking about? We both agreed to split everything 50/50" you frowned. "That was before I decided to go back to work full time – "

"Wait, when did that happen?" You asked, cutting her off. 

"A few weeks ago, I needed it" she replied as she stood from her desk and reached out to hand you the envelope. "I don't need the house, or the joint bank account, I don't want anything. You can have it all" she added. 

"Natasha! That'll take weeks to redo! I don't care what you do with your half, sell the house for all I care but please… just sign the papers" you said, refusing to take the divorce papers from her hand. "I'm sorry, I'll contact my lawyer first thing in the morning and ask them to do it as soon as they can" 

You could see there was no fighting Natasha on this one when her eyes flickered to your feet and her hand still reached out for you. With a sigh you snatched the envelope and shoved it back into your handbag, "I really thought you'd finally see how much this hurts! We're not the same anymore Natasha, we don't love each other. We fought all the time…then you started drinking and let's face it, you avoided me…all I asked was for you to sign them today and you can't even do that!" you said as you looked at the woman you once called your wife. Natasha stood in silence as she watched you leave her office and out the front door of the once shared home. "I do love you, I'm sorry" she spoke to herself as tears filled her eyes. 

The following week, Maria found Natasha avoiding anything on the topic of you. When asked how things went she just smiled softly and said 'fine'. Wanda wanted to invite you to the boy's birthday party as she'd grown close to you since you met Natasha only 6 years ago. You accepted the invitation with excitement as it had been a long time over due since you last saw Wanda and the twins and the rest of the team for that matter but when Natasha found out you'd be bringing your new partner along, she pulled out. It broke her in ways she never thought she could be hurt. The thought of you with somebody else made her heart ache, she still loved you with every inch of herself but now she hated that she allowed herself to let you down the way she did. 

On the twins birthday 2 weeks later, shortly after they blew their candles out, Natasha texted you saying she had the new divorce papers ready for you. Your smile dropped as you read her text, knowing she wasn't here to celebrate the twins birthday because of you brought a different feeling of pain to your heart. "Can you tell Wanda I'll be back shortly?" You turned to your girlfriend with a forced smile. "Of course darling, is everything okay?" She asked, you nodded, "it's fine, I just need to go pick up something" you smiled before placing a soft kiss on her forehead. She knew it had to be about the divorce, she could see in your eyes whenever something had to do with Natasha that they would change slightly in color or you struggled to keep eye contact and became less affectionate but she was patient and understood the divorce was still fresh, even now, 12 months later. 

"They're signed" Natasha's jaw clenched as you picked up the yellow envelope from her desk. "Thank you" you replied softly but Natasha only muttered to herself as she walked towards the front door to hold it open for you. "Y…you should've come today…the twins looked great in their dress up" you smiled softly trying to strike a conversation. "Yeah well, I wasn't exactly wanting to see my wi- to see you with whoever your new partner is. I'm happy for you, I am…but I think it's best we keep our distance" she replied, her eyes staring coldly into yours. 

"Come on, Nat…we're adults…we can be in the same room together without it being awkward…right?" You frowned slightly as you stood in front of her. She shook her head before her eyes dropped to her feet, "No, we cant" she replied quickly, wanting nothing more than to be left alone go cry out her sorrows. "Nat, it's been 12 months – "

"I still love you" she blurted out before you could finish your sentence, "and seeing you with somebody else –" she paused as her eyes flickered to hide her building tears.

 "Natasha" you stepped forward, wanting to hold her once last time even if you knew it would make things worse for the red head, you couldn't deny that you still cared for her. "I will always love you" her glassy wet eyes looked at you, "I hoped that maybe if I didn't sign the papers then we'd have some extra time to work things out and find each other again" 

"Nat, don't do this to yourself…what we had was beautiful and I'll always have a special place in my heart for you but…we just couldn't do it" your heart dropped at your own words, hating the fact that something so beautiful was now turning into something so strange.

"I was stupid, I'll take responsibility for that. I didn't stop to think about your feelings when I should have and now it's cost me –"

"Nat, please" tears filled your eyes. "It cost me the love of my life" she continued, ignoring your plea, "I love you, Y/n" she added while searching your eyes for any sign of hope that you still felt that love for her. "I can't stop, all I think about is you, all I hear is you, I can't bare to be in this house without you…I don't want to find something new and have to settle because all I want, all I ever want is you" tears breaking free from the green eyes you missed so much. Even though you've heard her say similar things before, this time not only could you see the difference in her body language, but you now felt her feelings and it only caused you to break down with her. 

"Don't cry darling" you heard her say softly as she did her best to wipe her flowing tears, "I'm going away for a few months with Yelena, that should give you enough time to sort out what you want to do with the house" 

"W-what? How long?" You asked but she refused to answer. "Nat, how long" you asked once again, Natasha looked at you, "until I get over you" she said almost a little too bluntly. Your eyes dropped at her reply as you took a step back, "I'm sorry, Y/n but I can't be around you and ignore that I love you so much" Natasha added. "Just promise me one thing" you said, your eyes slowly looking back up into hers. 

"Anything, dorogoy"

Your heart skipped a beat at the pet name, something you didn't think you'd hear her call you ever again. "Please…stay safe and stay in contact with Clint" 

"I promise" she smiled ever so softly. 

--7 Months later—

It was Wanda who let it slip that Natasha and Yelena were coming back to town and even though you knew she probably didn't want to see you; you couldn't help yourself but visit the compound and wait for her by her room. 

After she left, your mind wouldn't rest. Always thinking about the words, she spoke that day you picked up the divorce papers, thinking about how she looked and how you felt knowing she was gone without any way for you to make contact. Clint texted you a few times whenever you asked how things were just to make sure she and Yelena were okay, but his replies were dry and blunt and you knew that was Natasha talking, not Clint. 

"Y/n?" You heard Natasha's voice only a few steps from her room, "what are you doing here?" She asked with slight shock. "D-did you mean it?" You asked once she came to a stop before you, "everything you said…did you mean it?" You repeated. A moment of silence between you both started to build, looking both of each other in the eyes, searching for an answer. "Yes" Natasha finally spoke, nodding. A soft, gently smile tugged at your lips as you pulled the yellow envelope from your handbag. 

"What's this?" She asked even though she already knew what you were handing her, "I already signed them…" she added. "Just take a look, please" you replied as she slowly grabbed the envelope. You watched in silence as Natasha pulled the documents out, looking back and forth between you and the papers in front of her. 

"You didn't sign them?" 

"I thought I could….but after what happened when I last saw you, I couldn't stop seeing the pain in your eyes Nat…I'm so sorry I let us fall apart –"

"It wasn't you, it was me" She cut you off. 

"Does it matter who it was in the end? I gave up too easily, I let you slip just as much as you let me slip…Nat, I love you and being with somebody else just isn't the same. It isn't want I want…it's you, you're the one I want…if you'll still have me" tears built in your eyes but even breaking the eye contact you had with her. She smiled softly and dropped her bags before taking the few steps to close the gap between you both, "YA lyublyu vas" she whispered as she gently cupped your face, "will you have me?" She asked. 

Nodding with a tugging smile, "of course" you replied. 

Natasha didn't waste another second before her lips were gently and softly pressed against yours as she pulled you closer into her arms as you wrapped yours around the nape of her neck. "Let's go home" you smiled against her lips. "You didn't sell?" Natasha asked as she pulled away a little, still keeping you in her arms.

 "I couldn't, it's our home"

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | 

[storiesofsvu]

A Dangerous Game Ch 21

Emily Prentiss x reader Warnings: language, i think that's about it.

The following week you honestly felt like the heaviest weight had finally been lifted off your shoulders. You started to realize just how down you’d been and were now eternally grateful that it hadn’t been any longer. The next morning you were sat at your desk wrapping up paperwork when a coffee was discreetly placed onto your desk, you glanced up to barely catch Emily striding through the bull pen on the way to her office. From across the room Garcia managed to catch your eye, a wicked grin on her face as she glanced between the two of you.

*

That evening when you got home you were cursing yourself for having not bought groceries, having nothing edible but eggs in the fridge when there was a knock on the door. Your faved penne primavera with extra garlic bread on the side and a mini lava cake all fresh and hot and fully paid for. You scooped up your phone while digging into the bread,

‘You don’t have to buy your way out of this ya know. I already accepted your apology.’

‘Think of it as a double hitter. I… wanted to make sure you were eating.’

‘Turns out my appetite is back in full force this week.’

‘I’m glad. Enjoy your dinner.’

‘Thank you.’

You spent the rest of the evening texting, making each other laugh, watching the same shows from different houses before finally saying goodnight and crawling into bed.

*

You were almost running late the next morning, racing out the door and practically directly into a delivery man, the most gorgeous bouquet of roses and lilies you’d ever seen in the package. You had just enough time to leave them on the entry way table before running to the car, your phone buzzing in the cup holder the moment you sat it down.

‘Don’t worry, those ones are from me.’

You managed to slip into the elevator at the BAU right before the doors slid shut, letting out a breath when you noticed it had managed to trap you and Emily alone together.

“Thought I said you weren’t in the dog house.”

“Still allowed to spoil you, aren’t I?” She replied with a shrug and you laughed, “I’ll stop if you want, it’s just… making me feel a little better about the whole thing. I want to make sure you know how much I actually do care about you.”

“I do.” Smiling, you leant in, kissing her cheek softly, “thank you. They’re gorgeous.”

Emily had just enough time to squeeze at your wrist before the doors slid open and you went your separate ways.

*

Halfway through the morning Derek rolled his chair over to your desk, a bakery box finding home on top of it.

“Brought your favourite.” He greeted and you looked over at him with a small smile.

“You don’t need to feed me Derek, I ate breakfast. But thank you.” You lifted the lid to find that he did indeed get your favourite and began picking bites off the muffin.

“Just checkin’ in.” He replied with a shrug, “you know you have been in a helluva better mood this week.”

“That’ll happen when you manage to escape a toxic ex and get to sleep in your own bed again.”

“You really hate Seattle that much hey?”

“I’d rather move back to Florida.”

“Ouch.” He surveyed you for a moment, practically studying you to see if this was some kind of cover up or if you were actually doing better.

“What?” You laughed.

“Nothing.” He shook his head, “just, whatever you’re doing, keep doing it. A smile looks good on you.” He squeezed your shoulder affectionately before wandering back to his desk and it took all of your willpower to not look over to Emily’s office. You could feel her eyes on you and a few minutes later when you risked a glance up in her direction you found them still on you, doing your best not to laugh as she blushed. You shot her a quick wink and returned to the paperwork at hand.

*

Penelope managed to coerce you into drinks on Wednesday after work and you were thankful it was just the two of you, you knew she was likely going to grill you and that would be almost impossible in front of anyone else from the team. You’d settled in with your third drink when she finally couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Okay, so I take it from the very improved mood this week that you’ve talked things out?” She asked, a wicked grin on her lips.

“We have…” you took a sip of your drink, “she explained everything, a very big apology was given that I accepted.”

“Oh please tell me you’re back together, you have to be back together, you’re just so friggin cute!”

“I dunno if I’d call it ‘back together’.” You laughed, “but yeah, we’re like, officially together now.”

“Oh thank god!” She squeezed at your arm, “so when are you gonna tell the rest of the team?”

“I… uh.. once we figure out the politics of it I guess? At this point we’re just like, not sneaking around.”

“But the sneaking around kinda makes it hotter, doesn’t it?” She smirked and you laughed.

“Yeah I’ve gotta admit, sometimes it does, knowing someone on the team’s in the next hotel room so you’ve gotta stay quiet…. Adds some spice.”

“And spice is something the two of you most definitely have.” She smirked and your eyes widened.

“I told you to fast forward that shit!”

“Didn’t need to listen to any more than I’d already heard sunshine. I knew daddy issues were a thing, but I’ve always kind of wondered how that would translate to lesbianism.”

“Well you’re welcome for educating you.” You replied dryly, rolling you eyes before taking another sip of your drink.

“All teasing aside, I am really happy for you.” Her hand slid across the table to squeeze at yours, “you deserve happiness and love and you’ve found that, even if it kinda went to hell and back on the way.”

“Thanks Penelope.”

*

You let out a soft sigh, scrawling your signature across the bottom of a sheet of paper before flipping the case file shut and pushing your chair back. Crossing through the bull pen you knocked on the door jam of Emily’s office, pausing a moment before entering, flashing her a small smile.

“Papers fully filled out and everything documented.” You stated, placing the file down into her inbox.

“Thanks.” She smiled back at you before you turned to leave, “hey… good work today. No one else could get through to that girl.”

“Thanks.” You shrugged, turning back to her, “I’ve always been good with kids despite not having the desire to want my own.”

“No?”

“My track record with family isn’t exactly great.” You laughed, leaning against one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“Me neither.” She chuckled in response, “but just because you had shitty parents doesn’t mean you’d be one.”

“I know.” You smiled softly, “but with this job? The hours alone are enough to make me feel bad much less the risks and baggage we bring home.” Your brow furrowed as you realized something, “oh… we’ve never talked about this… it’s not a deal breaker or anything, I just don’t see it being a great idea.” Emily smiled softly, looking up at you.

“There was a time I entertained the idea, but like you said, it wouldn’t be easy with this job. Besides, you know how whiney Sergio gets when I’ve been gone a while, I can’t imagine an actual child.”

You barked out a laugh at that, the smile remaining on your cheeks as Emily’s lips curved into a knowing smirk.

You were acutely aware that outside the office you were being watched, you could feel the eyes on you but weren’t sure who they belonged to. It was Derek, leaning against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest as he watched the two of you through the office windows.

“What’re we staring at?” Penelope asked, settling in beside him.

“Wilson’s been in there too long for just dropping off paperwork.” He replied without looking away.

“Well, she took the interview with that last vic, maybe they’re talking about the case?”

“No.” He frowned, “they’re way too casual for that. Look at the way she just laughed.”

“Aww.” Penelope smiled.

“A week and a half ago Wilson was going through hell.”

“And now Emily’s making her smile, that’s a good thing.” She nudged at his side with her elbow, “I mean, just look at them, Wilson should spend the rest of the afternoon in her office.”

“Why are you so happy about this?” He finally managed to drag his eyes away from the office to look at the blonde.

“Because they’re so freaking cute! Just look at them,” she gestured toward the office, “you can’t tell me they’re not crazy about each other!”

“Baby… Prentiss fucked her up royally, you can’t be okay with this. Wilson was a wreck while we were in Seattle…”

“Oh my love,” she squeezed at his arm, “you have it all wrong.”

Back inside the office you were finally turning to leave, knowing there was only one tiny pile of paperwork sitting between you and the ability to punch out when Emily spoke again.

“Hey… uh.. you have plans tomorrow?”

“Just this little thing called work.” You turned back to her with a grin and she laughed.

“No, I meant tomorrow night.”

“Not a thing.”

“I meant it a couple of weeks ago when I said I wanted to actually take you out…” She began hesitantly, sucking her lip into her teeth.

“Are you asking me on a date Agent Prentiss?” You grinned, moving back closer to her desk so your voice wouldn’t carry through the door.

“Yeah. I am.” She let out a breath, unsure why she was suddenly so nervous, “and I’m really hoping you’ll say yes.”

“If we weren’t getting stared down by Garcia and Morgan… I’d be kissing you right now.” You chuckled, “of course it’s a yes.” She smiled warmly at you, a light shade of pink tinging her cheeks, “you sure this isn’t just about that dress?” You asked and she scoffed.

“Oh c’mon.”

“Your brain short circuited when I opened the door that night and you cannot deny that.”

“Fine.” She grumbled with a smile, “but this is about me wanting to take you somewhere nice, you deserve it.”

“As long as it’s not too fancy.” You teased.

“Pinky promise I won’t order for you.” She smirked back and you laughed, playfully rolling your eyes, “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“Sounds perfect.”

*

At the end of the day Emily was stuck a little later than she’d planned, a phone call with the director taking loner than expected and a little bit of extra paperwork because of it. She was finally emptying her inbox, tossing the folder into her outbox when there was a knock on the open office door and she looked up to find Derek stepping into the room.

“Hey.” She greeted, “thought you’d taken off already.”

“I was about to, but I didn’t want to leave without talking to you first otherwise this’d be eating away at me all night.”

“What’s up?” She asked, sitting back in her chair and Derek let out a heavy huff, dropping into one in front of her desk.

“Don’t be mad at Penelope… it’s thanks to her that I’ve been fully looped in now.”

“Okay?” She raised a brow.

“You and Wilson.” He sighed, “I was confused, and honestly a little upset to see how civil she was being to you, I didn’t think you deserved it from her, but now I know what really went down. Emily… I really hope you’re doing the right thing here, and for the right reasons. I know that your personal life and what you do outside of this office is literally none of my business, but I was also witnessing first hand when Wilson hit her absolute rock bottom breaking point. And I don’t ever want to see her that low again, so if you hurt her, again, and for real, you’ll never be hearing the end of it from me.”

“I don’t have a single plan in the world to ever pull something like that again, especially to her. And I’d expect you to, I’m glad she’s got you in her corner.”

“She doesn’t have many other options. This team is her family, like it is for a lot of us. I wanna make sure she knows that and that she doesn’t leave because something went south between the two of you.”

“I just…” Emily sighed, chewing on her lip, “I didn’t know what to do so I went with the first instinct I had. I didn’t know how much time I had, how close Dewald was. I didn’t want her to get hurt or killed just because of her association with me.”

“And you suck at communicating your feelings sometimes.” Derek stated, and while he was right, there was a teasing grin on his lips that she couldn’t help but huff a small laugh out at as she rolled her eyes.

“I’ve made a promise of open communication for what it’s worth.” She defended and he laughed quietly, “I just needed her safe…”

“Emily, I get it, I really do. That kind of a case? An unsub who had history with someone on the team, who made it very clear they were coming for you, and that meant her. You were flashing back to Doyle. It makes perfect sense that you wanted to protect her as much as possible, even doing it the way you did. You even made sure that Dewald would know, and then shipped her out of state just in case he didn’t believe it. You didn’t tell her about it because you were afraid she’d pull a you and take it on herself and end up getting herself killed. Hell even if you didn’t realize it, your subconscious did and this time we caught the guy and no one got hurt.”

“Yeah…” she murmured.

“As mad as I was before, I understand it.” He let out a breath, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Are you happy? Like truly, really happy?”

“More than I ever have been in my entire life.” She replied, a soft smile on her lips.

“Make sure she knows that. Because that girl cares about you more than anyone in the world.”

“I know.” She nodded, “and I will. She means the world to me.”

“Good.” Smiling, he pushed to standing, “I’m happy for you Prentiss, really.”

“Thanks.” She watched him start to leave the office.

“Oh, and promise me one more thing?”

“What?” She asked with a small laugh as Derek turned back in the doorway to face her.

“For the love of god could you two maybe keep the jet sex free in the future?! I’ll never be able to sit on that couch again.”

Emily felt the colour drain out of her face but the mortification was immediately usurped by wanting to get one in over Derek, a smirk breaking out on her lips.

“Alright, no mile high club. But I can’t make promises about what you might overhear otherwise.”

“What does that mean?”

“Remember back when she first joined the team and we were out in Atlanta? You complained on the way home about not getting any sleep thanks to someone else in the hotel being too noisy…” She grinned and Derek made a face of disgust with a grimace.

“That’s it, I’m bunking with Wilson for the foreseeable future, keep you two apart while we’re on the road.” He quickly backed out of the office, not wanting to hear anymore, leaving Emily laughing.  

__________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @melindawarnersgf @itisdoctortoyousir @emilyprentiss4life @somethingimaginative17 @temilyrights @alexxavicry  @daddy-heather-dunbar @aliensaurusrex @rustyzebra @ilovemycrayons @mandy-asimp @thegrantwater @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @m00nkn1ghts @supercriminalbean @daffodil-heart @msvenablesbitch @its-soph-xx  @going-gray @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @hopelesslyfallenninlove @peanutbutterprincess  @kdaghay @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @awolfcsworld @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @s1ut4nat @midnight-sapphic @scorpsik @thisisraes @prentiss-theorem @unsubologyy @strongsassysexysloane @svushots  @overtrred28 @happenstnces  @sapphicprentiss @heidss @geekyandgay98 @pagetboobstarcomments

[wishingstarinajar]

so i said in the last ask that i had some head canons. and i wrote one out. it ended up being a lot longer then it was meant to be but here is it. (also im not the best at writing, having dyslexia sucks so sorry if it sounds a bit off or anything.) hope you like it :)

Case has a secret room in his lab/office. 

This room is hidden behind a bookshelf, and to open it you need to pull on a certain book and the middle shelf moves to the side, like the secret doors in movies. 

Once the shelf moves you're greeted with a long dark hallway. No light. No sound. It's all pretty scary and spooky until you reach a big metal door with a complex lock on it. Your first thought is that it's just another room filled with experiments and computers. Or maybe something darker. That's why it's so hidden.  

But if you somehow manage to unlock the door (or it was left open) then…

The first thing to catch your eyes is a big fancy old shiny gramophone sitting on a dark red-wood cabinet with records stored neatly underneath it. Above the gramophone is a photo of Case, his brother and queen, in a golden frame to match the horn of the gramophone. Under your feet in front of the door is a little dark red doormat. It looks pretty old.

The left side of the room is full of sewing equipment. Everything is neatly laid out. There is a big table in the middle with an industrial grade sewing machine mounted to it. Near the table is one of those fancy expensive mannequins with a half finished project pinned up on it. 

Against the wall just next to the door is a small desk with a big pin board hanging on the wall above. The pin board is covered in photos, patterns, little sketches of coats and corsets, a few buttons and gems on it too along with some scraps of fabric and post it notes. 

On the desk there’s a notebook with a hand made pattern next to it, as well as a little cup holder with pens, pencils and chalk. Next to that is a tiny annoying dog shaped pin cushion and a little box filled with sewing needles and more pins. You can never have too many pins. 

Sitting just under the desk is a little red stool on wheels. 

Around the room, and under the big table there are boxes and containers. You can't see inside them. it must just be storage. On top of one of the containers is an older looking sewing machine and an over-locker. 

The walls are lined with shelves filled with big rolls of all different types and colours of materials and fabrics. 

At the far corner of the room there’s a set of drawers that matches the red-wood cabinet of the gramophone with golden handles and trimming. On top of the cabinet is a lamp and an empty wine glass. 

Next to that cabinet is a big rack of clothes, That are all mostly the same colours that Case likes to wear, that being red and silvery shiny grey. Most of the clothes are corsets or have some kind of corset built into them.

The other side of the well lit room is mostly empty. This is when you notice the fact that the floor of this secret room is wooden. It’s a nice change from the cold tiled ground of the lab. 

The only thing in this half of the room is a big dark red well loved comfy looking armchair with a little grey pillow sitting on it. In front of the armchair sits a matching ottoman. On the back wall of the room, near the armchair is a small window covered by some dark red curtains that match the red doormat. 

Just next to the armchair is a wine rack filled with fancy bottles of fine wine. The top of the rack acts as a table and has a few wine glasses resting on it. The glasses look pretty fancy and expensive, one has a golden handle and a few others are made of clear crystal with ornate patterns and designs in them. 

You overheard something about Case liking to dance. Perhaps this big open space is where he practices. 

The only other thought that crosses your mind is why keep all of this hidden? (the answer to that is this as the only other room big enough that would fit the big sewing table and the armchair.) 

You shouldn't enter rooms you weren't invited to~

Damn, you went in-depth about his stuff! But it's all rather fitting for him, very fancy. Nice work!

I really love the last bit because, yes x'D Case doesn't hide away his corsets, sewing machines, designs, gramophone and records. He's too proud of these things. Just cozy at home, away from the lab in Waterfalls and prying eyes.

Megalosomnia belongs to @megalommi~

[mira-miraaa]

Work Crush

content: 18+ mdni, sfw, gn!reader, fluff, kuroo is a sweetheart

note: I had fun writing for kuroo (p.s working on an nsfw version of this next)

Co-Worker!Kuroo likes to borrow your ballpoint pens. He claims your assorted colors are much better than his, but you've seen the pens on his desk are the same brand. Despite knowing he has an entire cup holder full of them, you never deny his request. It gives you an excuse to see him daily and make small talk about whatever seems appropriate at the time.

Co-Worker!Kuroo lingers around your desk for too long. He’ll print off unnecessary paperwork to use as an excuse to walk past your desk. Without fail, he'll make a stop, and ask for your stapler (his malfunctions). Meanwhile, your stapler doesn't work either and he has to unjam the fussy contraption. Funny how it never works when he uses it.

Co-Worker!Kuroo doesn't drink coffee often. He prefers his homemade smoothies but notices you always have a cup from the local café. One day you're swamped with work and he offers to go get you something. You politely decline, but after he reassures you it's not a bother you cave in.

Co-Worker!Kuroo assists you in setting up your presentation. He thinks it's the perfect opportunity to woo you, now that there's no one around. Yet, as he places pamphlets on the conference table he stops himself from flirting. You look nervous as you review your notecards. "You'll do great," he says, standing beside you. "You know more about this topic than anyone else, so even if you make a mistake play it off."

Co-Worker!Kuroo loves how intelligent you are. It seems you have an answer to everything regardless of the topic's obscurity. Kuroo enjoys listening to your stories, and he tries his best to remember all the information. The main reason why he wants to recall every little detail is to impress you. Prove that he is also smart enough for you.

Co-Worker!Kuroo decides he'll invite you on a date after work. Well, he had several opportunities to ask during work hours, but each time he failed. Either he felt too nervous or someone would walk in to ruin the moment. So as the clock ticked, nearing five o'clock his nerves spiked. He felt as if his heart was about to burst as he finally asked the question he repeated all day long.

Co-Worker!Kuroo walks you to your car, trying to contain his excitement. You accepted his invitation, but not only that, you responded: I'd love to. You could've said yes or sure, but you hadn't. He told himself he shouldn't read too much into three words, yet that's all he could think of all evening.

thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated <3

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