#how dare you do your job so well sir

[supercalifragipopculturevomit]

Rush (2013) Daniel Brühl as Niki Lauda

"Every now and then, it helps if people like you."

p.s. the multitude of emotions that cycles through his face in the last one kills me 😭

[flangore]

❥ scarlet plumes

feat.: Valentino/f!reader

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, drugging, rough sex, choking, punishments, manipulation, Valentino is his own warning

You were not the type to get into trouble.

Being confrontational, at least attempting to have things go your way through protests and complaints, had never seemed worth it; not when the one you were up against was Valentino, who always got what he wanted in the end, one way or another.

All too often, you had seen the way he punished disobedient whores; all too often, you had watched the way they were still limping days after, bruises blooming on skin if they had been lucky, bullet wounds trying to heal, oozing blood, if they had been less so.

There was no reason to willingly go through the struggle of disobeying when simply giving in, caving to Val's wishes and orders, was so much easier.

When Valentino told you to bend over, you did so readily, spreading your thighs apart in offering; when Valentino ordered you down onto your knees, you went obediently, lips dropping open, praying he wasn't in a bad mood, unpredictable as his sudden bursts of anger often made him.

You were not the type to get into trouble, and yet you currently found yourself on the floor, crumpled in front of Valentino's boots, cheek warm and stinging.

“Now, why don't you tell me what happened, baby?” His tone was a low coo, almost gentle enough to soothe your sobs. “You've never acted out like this before. What happened to my well-behaved girl, hm?”

In your defense, it really hadn't been your fault — you hadn't meant to do it.

Your night shift had been supposed to be a simple session for a well-known client, consisting of some lap dancing and a blow job; that was what he had paid for, at least. Your surprise when he had begun ripping your skimpy panties off you, forcing your legs apart, hands greedy, mouth drooling, high on some drug, was therefore understandable in your eyes; as was the way you, in your shock, had lashed out, claws scratching at his chest in order to push him off you. A split second later, the side of your face had ached with pain, his flat palm having met your cheek before he had stormed out of the room, screaming and spitting.

Valentino had been with you after barely any time at all.

“I didn't—”, you choked out, voice trembling, “I didn't mean to do it, sir, I swear, he just startled me, and, I mean, he didn't pay for more, he wanted to —, he wanted to—”

One hand of his cupped your cheek, golden claw gently tracing over your jaw. Even with him crouched down in front of you, he seemed ridiculously tall. “Hey—, relax, sweetheart.” At an exhale, red smoke coiled around you, assaulting your senses. Instinctively, your raised shoulders fell as tension bled from your muscles. “I get it. I understand.”

With how utterly merciless Valentino was known to be, it took a few moments for you to actually understand the meaning of his words. Even then, you barely dared to let go of the dreadful fear curled in your stomach. “You do?”

“Of course I do”, he said, eyes half-lidded behind heart-shaped glasses. His voice was soft enough to cause more tears, now of relief, to drip down your cheeks. “You know, I was really surprised when that patron came up to me, demanding to have you fired, if not killed for your disobedience. You're usually such an obedient girl — I was wondering what actually happened. Good job for being honest with me.”

Hope bloomed in your chest, your eyes widening. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow, black and colourful, ran down your wet cheeks. “So you're not upset with me?”

“Upset with you? Of course not, amorcito. You were scared, that's alright. It happens, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your breath hitched in a stifled sob, lips, the gloss now smudged, curling up into a pitiful mockery of a smile. “Yeah. Thank you, Val.”

This could have gone much worse. Your hands were still shaking, anxiety thrumming underneath your skin, and yet Valentino didn't even seem particularly upset. Some higher being — whether that was Lucifer or God, you didn't really care — must have blessed you, somehow.

“Of course, baby.” The moment Valentino stood once more, he towered over you, his shadow swallowing you up. “Now, follow me, yeah?”

Your legs struggled to support your weight, knees feeling weak as you trailed behind him through corridors you didn't recognise. Your steps were unsure, the heels, ridiculously high, only adding to your troubles. You have half a mind to stop yourself from asking where you're going.

It's entirely unnecessary, either way.

You arrive but a moment later, the noise of a heavy door falling shut causing you to flinch; where Valentino was in front of you just a second ago, he was now behind you, a looming presence at your back.

It was a studio; not the fancy kind actual stars like Angel Dust filmed in, but a smaller one, the light bulb flickering, the sheets on the bed stained. Voxtech cameras were pointed at the mattress.

“Val—?”

“Bend over, baby.”

“You said you're not angry with me.” The words tumbled out of your mouth without your permission, a panicked high-pitched tone. “You said you're not—”

“And I'm not, as long as you hurry the fuck up and do what I tell you to.” His voice was sharp. Instinctively, you obeyed, bending over the edge of the bed, nausea churning in your stomach. “See, that guy you were a bitch to was a regular. Good money. I gotta show him you're sorry, sweetheart. You understand that, right?”

For a moment, you didn't get a word out, throat tight as tears spilled past your lashes. Eventually, you managed a shaky; “Yes, Valentino.”

“There we go. Knew you'd get why I have to do this.”

Large hands settled on your thighs, the touch making you flinch; his claws, all too sharp, teased at your skin, leaving faint scratch marks, before they prodded at your folds.

This, by now, should have been routine. It was; and yet, the idea of this being a punishment had you tensing, muscles locking up while Valentino thrust one claw into you, only to grunt, irritated.

“Ungrateful bitch”, he spat, one hand settling on your lower back, pinning you to the bed while another fumbled with his belt, metal clinking. “That's what I get for tryin' to be nice and preparing you — tightest cunt I've ever seen. Loosen the fuck up or deal with it.”

“I'm sorry.” Your voice shook, though the threat of violence, of pain, didn't help with relaxing in the slightest. Instead, you instinctively clenched around the digit, only to whimper when he yanked it back out.

“Sure doesn't seem like it.”

The fat head of his cock, pierced, the metal cold, pressed against you, then pushed inside; you were unable to stop yourself from letting out a pitiful noise, sounding more like a wounded animal than a practiced porn star.

Valentino didn't seem to mind it one bit.

Your vision blackened out for a moment when he bottomed out inside of you, the pain agonising. For a moment, you were certain he was tearing you from the inside out. His hips slapped against your plush ones, building up a steady rhythm; one set of his hands grabbed onto your hips, claws digging into your skin, using his grip for leverage to pull you back against him

“Some wetness would help us out here, y'know”, Valentino mumbled, complaining, bitching, like this was your fault. It probably was.

The only response you were able to come up with was a choked out sob, a dull ache steadily present in your abdomen, only interrupted by sharp stabbing pain whenever Valentino's tip hit an impossibly deep spot inside of you.

This couldn't have possibly gotten worse — or so you thought, tears dripping down your face, your claws ripping the sheets as you scrambled for purchase, only for it to get so much more agonising when, all of a sudden, his hand closed around your throat, squeezing.

You weren't able to breathe.

Instinctively, you clenched around him, thighs shaking. If he wasn't still holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Fuck, you're so damn tight.” Valentino groaned, low and raspy. His tongue lapped at your neck, leaving trails of pink saliva to drip down your shoulders, your chest. “We could've had such a pleasant time together, baby, if only you hadn't been such a disobedient slut. Hate that you're making me do this.”

His pace was unforgiving, the metal of his belt buckle hitting your hip with every other thrust, surely leaving bruises. Not that it mattered — Valentino did provide you with full coverage makeup, after all.

Out of the corner of your eye, you focused on the red dots of the many cameras, blinking, recording. By now, numbness spread through you, a small blessing. You weren't certain just how long it went on; only that, eventually, Valentino came with a groan, filling you up, making you whimper.

When his grip on your throat loosened for a split second, allowing you to suck a burning breath into your lungs, it felt like Heaven.

“Use your words, baby. Talk to me.”

“Val, 'm sorry—”

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry”, you repeated, the words barely audible through sobs, “I'm sorry, Val, I'm sorry—”

Suddenly, his hand, still on your throat, yanked your head up, his lips clashing against yours; the very moment you opened your mouth, pliant with submission, with exhaustion, smoke flooded it, you choking on it.

Your mind felt muddled, mouth dry even as saliva trickled out of your lips, jaw slack.

Faintly, you were able to feel his cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs, sticky.

“Now”, Valentino said, voice a sultry purr, “Why don't you wait here, I'll send you your client and you apologise properly to him?”

Mind filled with scarlet plumes, you barely knew what you were agreeing to, nodding mindlessly. “Yes, Valentino.”

“That's what I like to hear. Good girl.”

When multiple pairs of footsteps echoed through the room, you, even in your hazy state, had the bad feeling that you were going to be having a long night.

i won't lie i didn't proofread this yet.. tomorrow... ALSO FIRST POST YIPPEEE

[stuffeddeer]

okay but..... pathetic yearning beast!stalkerzai... he's so quiet abt his obsession with u making up any excuse to have u around for subordinate purposes and when ur not around him he makes sure he can still keep tabs on u AHHH hes so sad and so smitten

"pathetic" i dont need to hear any more. im on board.

The continuous knocking on your apartment door leaves you anxious, quickly pulling on a comfy sweatshirt before answering the door. A breeze flies into the room, causing you to shiver, before you make eye contact with,

"Why aren't you at work today?" Dazai crosses his arms, an angry expression on his face. Though, the pout he wears causes it to be less intimidating than he'd normally be.

You glance into your apartment briefly, still feeling chilly while exposed to the outside air. "Um... I don't work?"

"You always work."

"Right. Which is why I have today off." Awkwardly, you itch your arm. "Am I… needed, Boss?"

Dazai sighs before walking into your apartment (with no invitation) and closes your own door behind him. "You're freezing."

"I'm slightly chilled," you shrug, brushing off the notion. Any other subordinate wouldn't dare correct the boss of the Port Mafia, but he'd always been more lenient with you - supposedly because you ‘aren’t as dumb’ as the rest. "But that's what the hoodie is for."

Without another word, Dazai plops down onto your couch, making a show of looking around your apartment. It’s tiny - the whole thing barely the size of his office at HQ — and Dazai wonders if you’d rather move in with him. For more space, of course. And he guesses you’d be saving on rent that way, too.

“How do you know where I live?” You ask curiously. Sure, it’s probably somewhere in your files, but your boss never seemed like the type to care.

Shrugging, he murmurs, “It’s my job.”

You want to make this visit quick, but kicking out your boss didn’t seem like a smart idea. “Are you thirsty? Would you like a cup of tea?..”

Yes, Dazai wants to try your tea. Just because you’re his subordinate, and he needs to make sure it’s up to par. What if he needs you to serve tea to some associates in the future? “I’d love one.”

Biting back a sigh, you fill your kettle before placing it on the stove, watching as your old gas stove flickers on. Silence hangs between you two - you had no intention of carrying the conversation when he just barged in uninvited.

Dazai seems to have a similar idea, sitting laxly on your couch and waiting for his tea. You pour one cup, uninterested in making one yourself, before placing it on the coffee table in front of him. “Sugar? Milk?”

“This is fine, thanks.” He takes a sip. Heavenly, he’s sure. Well, all tea tastes the same, but something about it coming from your hands… delectable. It’s as though he can taste the love you must pour into every cup.

Mouth shut, you take a seat on the chair across from him. “May I ask, sir, why are you here? Am I needed?” The question is posed once again as you hope for a quick resolution. Kicking out your boss is wrong, but hopefully he’ll read between the lines and show himself out - the same way he showed himself in.

A long sip of tea permeates the otherwise silent room. He’s doing this on purpose, you’re sure of it.

“…I was worried,” he mumbles into the mug, sound muffled and quiet.

“Sorry?”

“You should be,” he replies, uninterested in repeating himself. “I needed you today, only to find out you vanished into thin air.”

“I didn’t run, if that’s what you’re implying,” your eyes narrow. You would not be mistaken for a traitor.

“No, no,” he grins. You were at your most entertaining when you became combative. Dazai much prefers you like this rather than subservient. “You took today off.”

Correcting the boss of the Port Mafia was risky, but, “You gave me today off. A month ago, after that mission, you told me to pick a day to relax.”

That’s… true. It was a strenuous mission, and while Dazai made sure to keep you out of the fray, he thought a gift like that would make you feel touched and indebted to him. Annoyingly, he’d nearly forgotten, since Dazai had planned on reneging at the last minute to trap you with him. For your work ethtic, of course.

A pout graces his lips, unhappy at your disappearance from his side. And that he had no rebuttal to it. “Well, I still need you. I made dinner reservations for two accidentally, and the restaurant is rather strict. You need to come with. The meal will be comped, of course."

“Sir, I don’t— “

“Don’t want your job?” His eyes narrow, pout vanishing immediately. You had to go along with it. “I’m sure you don’t mean that, over something as silly as a nice dinner.”

“...Of course, sir.” You tug on the strings of your hoodie, wanting to emphasize that you aren't exactly dressed for something 'nice.' "What time am I expected?"

Dazai has to stop himself from swooning. How adorable. Well, it’s not you that’s adorable, of course. It’s the juxtaposition of such n oversized hoodie on you that he finds adorable, not you yourself. Definitely. “We can leave now, actually. Get changed, please. I wouldn't say there's a dress code, but it's not a 'hoodie' establishment."

Rather than lashing out at him for the snide comment, you choose to bite your tongue and head into your bedroom.

Exhausted was too light a word to describe how you felt. Donned in a 'nice' outfit that was rather uncomfortable, you stood outside in the cold air and harsh breeze as Dazai suggested to the host to let him in. This bastard didn't have reservations for one, much less two.

After the manager is called over and recognizes Dazai, you're quickly ushered in beside him. Dazai pulls out a seat at a secluded table in the back, gesturing for you to sit. "Come."

Without a second thought, you sit in the very seat he'd pulled out, stifling a yawn as he pushes you in. You’re Dazai's best employee - he must keep you close at all times. Which is why he takes advantage of your position as his subordinate to orders you waste your day off in a fancy restaurant across from him. If you want time off of work, you’ll have to spend it with him - just so he can keep an eye on you, of course.

[ladyelissarose]

———————— ☠️

“Sergeant, you’ve been sitting there for the past 30 mins. Do you seriously think you have that much time to waste?”

Your Lieutenant Simon Riley’s voice was dead yet firm in its tone, being evident that he wasn’t very pleased at the moment.

Placing yourself in his shoes, you’d be upset too, there was a mission coming up and much preparation was still needed, from ‘everyone’ in the team.

Trying to swallow the heavy rock in your throat, you tried to put down the pain of your humiliation from earlier, and replied lowly,

“No sir, but I’m waiting for someone-“

“For 30 minutes? Don’t you think that after 5-10 minutes of waiting it’d be very clear that they’re not coming back for you.”

‘Oh.. but why would they do that? Their supposed to help me-‘

“Sergeant? I asked a question-“

“Yes sir, you’re right. I apologize for wasting time and being delusional.”

With a confident tone you had replied, which was the total opposite of what you were feeling. And though you apologized, you stayed glued to that damned seat, clenching your thighs and the gut wrecking pain that seared from your stomach to your legs- who would’ve thought that period pains would make you feel like you’ve been shot and stabbed?

You bit your lip nervously at the scolding that was to come in a few seconds as you hadn’t moved, and neither had your Lieutenant Ghost, meaning he was waiting for you to move your ass up from the metal chair.

And the longer the seconds passed, you grew more sick and worried, for Ghost wasn’t the most nicest to the newest ones in the team, he was actually very strict and took no excuses from anyone- including you.

Although you haven’t been on that side of him, but you’ve seen it and wouldn’t dare cross that bridge. So far you’ve been one of the best alongside Johnny Soap MacTavish, listening attentively and being the best shot on the job. But now you’re letting a natural cause hold you back, and in shame you couldn’t move or budge.

Not after you were mocked and belittled for it- and it wasn’t even your fault, but of course they all made you feel like it was.

A low gruff was heard above you, and Ghost’s large boots shifted on the ground before he practically barked,

“Well then move Sergeant!? What’d ya eat this morning that was to heavy for you to even get up eh?!”

And to put the cherry on top, when you’re in this abdominal pain, along with your daily sores from the job and stresses, you’re gonna get emotional and teary.

Especially when you knew it could’ve been solved a while ago when you had asked a teammate to help you out, but they had left you out to dry obviously, telling you to stay in that seat while they ran to your barracks to get new pants.

So now you kept your gaze on the ground, refusing to move a bit, not knowing how to explain or hold it all in, until you felt a strong grip on your arm as he lifted you up and spoke in a harsh tone,

“I’ll move you then-“

In panic you grabbed the collar of his vest and held onto the hand that grabbed you as you pleaded with desperate eyes,

“Lieutenant Riley please! Just- please.”

Your bottom lip now quivered a bit, and your eyes frantically searched his, hoping to find mercy in them so he could let you go, but he didn’t. He only locked his cold brown eyes on you, as he tried to read the situation.

That was Simon’s best tactic, he could read people like a book when he wanted to and wasn’t in a bad mood. And once he gave himself the chance to do so, he could clearly tell you were devastated and anguished, as your brows furrowed tightly and your eyes were growing glassy.

In regret at his actions, as he saw your state, Ghost immediately let you go and remembered Soap’s words,

‘Be more understanding of everyone’s situations, you may not always know why they are a certain way.’

He took a deep breath and pat your arm from where he had grasped you, not ignoring the fact how you flinched a bit and a fat tear was wiped away from your cheek by your shoulder. Simon was quick to mumble feeling guilty,

“I’m sorry Sergeant. Didn’t mean to be so harsh-“

“I bled through my pants pretty badly Lieutenant.”

“What?!”

He was ready to check you thinking it was probably an injury, but you instantly grabbed his jaw so he wouldn’t look, and quickly explained,

“It’s not an injury.”

You could see the way his eyes spoke confusion, as he questioned,

“Then what is it Sargeant?”

Your grip on his jaw loosened as you grew shy, realizing how close he was to you, and you grew more conscious of your state. As calmly as you could, you did your best to say the least but enough to understand.

“Please don’t let me say it... I’ve been humiliated enough.”

The gears in his poor head twisted and turned, as he tried to read in between in the lines of your words. He repeated your words in his head, and saw your state-

‘Oh.. OH.’

Ghost sucked in a deep breath and replied his thoughts,

“Oh. Sergeant- ok.. here.”

He quickly shrugged off his jacket, and like a carrying mother, he tied the sleeves around your waist, making sure it covered you were needed. He tapped your waist when he finished and ordered,

“Walk in front of me, let’s take you to your room.”

In a quiet voice you tried to reason, hoping he’d let you go on your own, as you were still a bit embarrassed.

“It’s a long walk Lieutenant- literally across the whole base-“

“Then we’ll go to my office, I have an extra pair of cargo’s.. they adjust to any size-“

He then held your cheek with his gloved palm as he assured you,

“I’m not letting you go on your own, I’ll help you.”

Nodding dumbly because of his sweet gesture, you agreed. And well, that settled it for you, he wasn’t letting you go on your own, so off you went.

Like a guardian angel his broad built covered your smaller form fully, and with a reassuring hand on your shoulder he guided you away to his office.

You felt small in front of his full build, but never insignificant as he treated you like a person, maybe he started off the wrong foot at times, but that’s who Simon Riley was.. he wasn’t used to being all nice and kind. But when he’d find out his mistake he’s pluck it out and make it right ten times more.

In the comfort of his little room, clearly showing he lived there as it smelled like his musky and citrus scent, and the decorations were to a bare minimum (it was actually just the little lamp and a few large bullet casings laid around in different places, like they were posing.

Oh and all the little gum wrapper things you made for him were all resting on his tiny window seal- anyways.. you were safe in his room.

He left you to change in peace after he made you stand in the pants for five more minutes- until you spilled the names of the soldiers that had humiliated you. You really didn’t want to cause them problems, especially with the Lieutenant himself who was stern and harsh.. but he made you understand that it was well deserved anyways.

Now you’re buckling up your fresh pants when you heard the door open and Ghost walk in, his head lowered as he began,

“You good Sergeant?”

Nodding to yourself you replied to him verbally,

“Yes Lieutenant.. thanks. They fit well.”

He took that as your signal of, ‘I’m decent you can look’ so he did, seeing his pants on you. Maybe they did look pretty big on you, but they fit, and were stainless.

Satisfaction with a hint of care in his eyes, he nodded with a soft grunt,

“Alright kid.. Oh and take these… they help with the.. the cramps?”

Smiling a bit at his shy voice coming out and at his attentiveness to what your body was going through, you replied,

“Yes.. the cramps.. thank you.”

“Hmm hmm.. now, be at the shooting range. I’ll be there in 5.”

Worry then crashed, wanting to hit you as you thought about the chance of seeing those soldiers again, but Ghost once again reassured you,

“Don’t worry Sergeant… I got your back. Go on to the range.”

Releasing a breath of relief you sent him a small smile then went, happy and confident to know you had your Lieutenant’s protection. Simon watched you walk away and he felt warmth in his chest, as he was able to provide help and be good to and for you.

Ghost hardly ever practiced shots or trained with you, afraid he’d hurt you or be too stern. But now he was afraid to leave you on your own, and be hurt by someone else. So he figured, you’d be safe and learn well from him, while he’d learn to keep his temper and tolerance in check, as he’d have you in sight.. a win is a win.

[tnt-kokoo]

Sheep in a wolf's costume

(Yandere/obsessed!)Rin Itoshi × fem!reader

summary: A princess like you shouldn't wander around unattended while at war. That's what your father thought at least, and that's why, Rin Itoshi was chosen as your own guard.

warning: Stalking, fantasy au, yandere/obsessed, he kinda worships reader (??), death,

"...and with that, I order him to be your guard." Your father, the king, commanded.

In your mind, you were dreading having to be followed by someone you don't really know. As a princess, you already had to overcome the constant nagging of your parents to act whenever and wherever you are ladylike. Not that it was impossible but very draining.

Looking over to your side, you remarked how one of the knights looked more nervous than the ones next to him. You knew from then on, that was your new babysitter.

After a while, you father continued to talk to the other knights. You couldn't handle standing there, listening to your father talk about next possible moves from the enemy and how they could prevent that from happening. You couldn't bare to listen to the gruesome out loud thoughts (that should have stayed in their sick brains instead of being muttered out loud) of the solders.

Your new guard noted how your expression changed from annoyed to a hidden disgust.

'Even with such an evil topic, she tries to remain princess-like. Cute." That's what the dark haired boy thought.

At some point, you just wanted out of the room and the still unnamed knight by your side realized it as well. He then interrupted your father's conference (something undared by many with a lower status).

"Pardon me sir, don't you think that the princess shouldn't have to worry about our conflict and ruin her pure brain?" He questioned. A few wispers from behind and from the side were the only thing keeping the silence away. Your father was surprised, shocked even, to have someone other than him dare to talk for his own daughter. But it's not like he didn't agree with the said statement of 'not wanting to ruin your pure thoughts and brain'.

With a quiet sighs, he agreed a let the guard go for his foolish behavior of interrupted like that.

____________________________________________

"Thank you, for getting me out" you thanked him sincerely.

Maybe, he isn't as bad as you thought?

But oh, how wrong that was. He was much more worse than what you could have imagined.

"What's your name?" you wanted to know and walked beside him as he accompanied you to your chambers. He looked over to you quite shocked and muttered a small 'Rin'.

You couldn't help but laugh at what you thought was shyness. The sound of the laugh was like a immense warm comfort, that he deemed to not have earned (just yet at least). He loved it. So much. His heart clenched at the thought of failing your father's wish for your safety and swore to himself to protect you. For now, he didn't think much of his possessiveness. To him, it was just him doing his job.

Because Rin Itoshi is unfamiliar with the term love.

____________________________________________

As days follow and the conflict began to get more serious, Rin was able to listen to your worries and how you wanted this war to stop.

With each day spending more time with you, the knight felt himself more aware of how much he actually enjoys your company. Even in such hard times, you were still next to him, listening to him talk about his interests, his likings as well as dislikings and even more shocking to some, about his family. He simply trusted you and you trusted him.

You knew you could definitely trust him after what happened at town. Even with a war going on, your father made you go to the orphanage. You definitely should only visit but you being you, Rin had to watch how his princess was playing and joking with the children.

Soon, thoughts plagued the knight of having a family with you. The dark haired boy quickly threw that thought away and continued to look out for you as you were finally wishing the children to stay healthy.

While walking down the street to where the carriage was supposed to wait. You were met with something else.

You two saw bandits with knives in their hands. They seriously didn't think this through if they thought that Rin Itoshi would let them steal from you- or even worse, harm you.

Quickly Rin drew his sword out of the holder and pointed it to the opponents. Non of them got closer and took a few steps back.

Suddenly, another thief came from behind you and pulled the knife in his hand close to your throat. Without a second of waiting, Rin brought his sword to the one threatening you and made a fast cut for the thief to fell down bleeding without seeming to stop. Quickly stepping away from the corpse, your eyes widen as the chest of your knight stooped you from stepping away any further.

He saved you, but at the cost of one's life...

The boy wrapped his arms around you and bought you closer to the metal of his suit, he tried his best to comfort you as he only could be happy that you were safe. No more bandits wanting to rob you.

At this point, he might have started to feel something more for you. He still couldn't put a finger on what exactly it was called but from what he heard, his feelings were as strong as love.

Right now, his brain accepted a feeling for you. He calls it Love.

____________________________________________

The moment Rin Itoshi realized how much his feelings grew over the time of being your knight, was when you got your portrait taken by one of the best artist at the time. He stood next to the portrait and had a very clear view of you. You looked eternal with all the diamonds and the jewelry.

On one hand, he was excited to be able to have such a beautiful view of you. Your beauty infront of him and him having the possibility to memorize all your features highlighted by the pretty diamonds. He was so sure, that he would spend all his money for jewelry for you just because your being is supposed to be lavished by all these expensive stones and gold or silver (whatever you prefere because he'd buy you either).

But on the other hand, apart from his growing love for you, the feeling of jealousy grew as well. His jealousy was directed at the artist and yes, the painting is beautiful, but, he shouldn't be able to look at you with ,what Rin thought to be, lust. Only Rin himself should have the ability to look at you. Others should pay.

And not with any money, oh no... Rin expected them to pay with their eyes who dared to glance over to you. Like thiefs get punished by getting their hands cut off, but what would that be useful for? It were their eyes that weren't allowed to look at a higher being.

While the painting was finished hours later, you began to feel your eyelids grew heavier. Looking out, you saw how the sky was already darkened and the sun long gone. Stars now dancing above the castle and the moon deep asleep.

Looking over to Rin, he seemed to understand your trouble and helped you up. He then proceeded to kneel down and say "Get on my back, I'll carry you to your chamber, princess."

You didn't question it and sat on his makeshift seat of his hands to hold you up. Your arms wrapped around his neck as your head laid on his broad shoulder.

'Shit. She smells so good....' he thought.

As he carried you to your chambers, he laid you down on the comfortable bed and pulled the blankets over your beautiful body. Oh how he loved you, your brain, your body, and your looks. He loved everything about you.

If you were to command him, he would kiss every floors that were lucky enough to be walked upon by you.

If you were to command him, he would go into every fight and come back to you.

If you were to command him, he would do anything you'd ever wish.

Because in the end, it's Rin Itoshi. He would get his hands dirty for you, so you wouldn't have to.

And maybe, just maybe, love was a wrong term for his feelings. He felt his obsession grow more and more.

____________________________________________

"Where is the princess???" A servant asked another. Neither knew of anything after the village got attacked. To make it worse, most knights were gone, thinking the enemies were going to attack from somewhere else. But oh how wrong they were.

Now with nearly no one to fight with, the village was doomed. Not even the king was present anymore, he was murdered and you, you disappeared, along with your knight.

If you had a choice in this or not, Rin Itoshi was not disappointed with his deal with the enemies.

A deal that would make him alongside you stay safe, as long as he would be telling them your folks secrets.

Looking back, he was happy you're now safe with him.

Because Rins feeling for you are way stronger than anyone could possibly imagine and now, you're his and his alone.

[dianesdiaries]

first day, nervous? | Homelander x Y/n

-Homelander is introduced to his newest assistant after Ashley went AWOL, and Y/n's expectations were more then she knew

-Soft foreplay/tension

NOTE: this is a draft so I might finish it later!!

"Hey, you're finally here! Took long enough".

His teeth creaked into a wide smile, almost as forced as the wide floor-to ceiling doors that ringed in my ears. I shuffled quietly towards the curved slim table, as the slender man ran his fingers along the rims. Blonde silky streaks ran through his hair, his eyes squinted as he pushed his strands back. Homelander was a peculiar choice for a leader. As I sat down and watched him glide around the table, he leaned daringly close into my presence. "So what made you decide Vought? I checked your resume you know, you seem pretty-under qualified. Sorry", Homelander chuckled away the awkwardness of his sentence. It was pretty clear he thought I didn't have the brains for it. "Well", I pushed my glasses back into my face, avoiding the gaze of the daring supe. "I've been in association with many government institutions and have worked for-"

"Blahhh Blahhhh"

It took a minute for me to take in his approach. So far, in the past six minutes we've gotten to know each other I can already see how 'bright' my future will be at Vought. "I want the real truth. Everybody comes here looking for fucking power- whether they have it or not. So, again. Why are you here?" he asked, his voice became stern as he ran his fingers across my shoulders. My body bolted at the feeling, his gloves curving along my collar. The one thing I could be sure on was his need for praise. He wanted me to tell him how great he was. He needed to hear exactly what I thought of him so he knew how to approach me. And he found exactly how. By fear.

I chuckled nervously, "Well, I-uh.. Was looking for a new job because I guess I got tired of the same... form after form stuff, you know?", sweat leaked like a tap from my temples, streaking through the bright curtains that swayed back and forth. Homelander dove into the next chair, quickly spinning mine to face him. My legs became entrapped between his, his arms leaning between my seat. "I think.. You'll find just what you're looking for here. Besides.. you work for me. Right?", his eyes asserted a cold shiver through my body. "That's right, sir". "And you'll do whatever I say?", the air became still with his words. my breaths encased into my cavity, the struggle to find wiggle room became worse. Of course he's my boss but.. God, he was so close. I bit my lip at the careless thought of us, I'd already had fallen for what he had planned before I walked into that room.

"Yes sir".

"Anything?", curiosity sparked in his words as he leaned closer, his hands barely caressing between my legs.

"Yes, sir", the yearning in my voice grew louder, my back arching to the sharp feeling of his fingers climbing inside my shirt. His lips pressed into mine, his passive hand making its way through my pencil-tight skirt. The soft hum of his grunts buzzed against my lips, it drove me crazy. He knew exactly what I wanted. He knew the words to say. He felt my heart pace before I had the chance to sit down. An unpredictable supe is never good news, so why do I want it so bad?

[darkness-follows]

F!Reader/ Boyd Crowder (Oneshot)

Smut!

Summary:

You deliver a package to Mr. Crowder not knowing the content of it could put you into a rather unfortunate situation...

Luckily for you, a man pointing a gun at you isn't a huge turn off.

Word count: 5,169 (I think)

TW warnings: Gun threat. Mention of a cut off hand (not yours or Boyd's!) Sexual choking. P in V sex. Unprotected sex (reader is on the pill). Creampie. Reader has a thing for assholes.

Enjoy my lovelies:

Working for a package delivery Service in Harlan you don't think about nothing much. Living a rather worry free kind of life, sure the crime rate has gone up a bit, rumors about what's really going on get shared. For some reason especially in your line of work, having to go from house to house and everything..- yet that still doesn't bother you nor stop you from delivering packages. A job is a job and you are quick and well paid for your time. One rather early morning a man comes into the warehouse, face barely visible, a cap pulled deep onto his face. Sunglasses and a beard. But that's a pretty ordinary look for Harlan men, you don't think twice about it.

The man pays in cash for a same day delivery, handing you a perfectly squared box and telling you the Address. Some Bar downtown Harlan.

You make the same day delivery, around 5 pm right at the end of your shift you push the door open to the bar, looking around for a moment. “Hello? Harlan delivery services. I am looking for a Mr…-” You have to check that again. “Crowder!” You announce.

Head turning to the sound of a door opening in the back, watching a rather attractive man step towards you. “I did not order anything.” Crowder says, and just the tone in his voice makes you frown a bit, no need to be rude here. “Makes sense, cause this was dropped off for you today” You hand him the Box and your clipboard to sign. He raises his eyebrows at you before he signs the paper, taking a rather big knife from his belt and cutting the Box open.

You did notice how he inspected it for something at first. Like a bomb or something. Ridiculous.

But once it's open a harsh smell hits the both of you, causing you to gag and turn away.

“What the fuck!” You hear the man yell, after you manage your gagging you take another look at the box.

“That's a hand.” You gasp, a fucking cut off hand showing a middle Finger. Rotting and everything. Jesus christ.

What you didn't expect was a gun shoved in your face. “What the fuck is this and who the hell are you?!” Crowder yells at you, causing you to flinch and raise your hands, dropping the clipboard.

“Just..- Just calm down please! I swear, I'm just a delivery person.” You say with a shaky voice.

"Bullshit.. Who sent you?!” He aggressively pushes the gun against your temple. God this is the scariest moment of your life, it's not helping in any way that the man pointing a gun at you looks so good doing it.

“Mr. Crowder, sir, I swear. There's an ID in my back pocket. Normally I wear that clipped to my shirt but this was my last delivery for the day.” You sigh. If only you would have left it where it was, maybe he wouldn't threaten you then.

Your breath catches in your throat uncomfortably when he grabs your arm and turns you around. Pushing you face first into the wall. His hand pats you down until he finds the ID Clip in your pocket. Checking it once…twice..hell even three times.

“Who gave this to you?” You hear the click of his gun and then slowly dare to turn and look at him again, watching him put the gun back into his belt and covering it with his shirt.

But you are still shaking, trying to catch your breath. Normally you are a rather relaxed woman but today? Moment like that? You fear this is a panic attack.

“It uh..- it was….- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, please don't kill me when I tell you, god please.” You try to calm yourself down but he shoved a gun in your face moments ago.

“God ain't got a whole lot to do with that sugar, sit down” Boyd Crowder points at the barstool.

“Mr. Crowder I really am trying to remember, I'm sorry.” You take a seat even though every fiber in your body tells you not to trust him or do anything he says.

“That's on me, I scared ya, I'm sorry.” Boyd steps behind the bar, grabbing two glasses and pouring two big shots of whisky into them. Pushing the glass over to you. “Have a drink sweetheart, calm down, try to remember.” He nods towards you.

With a shaky hand you grab the drink, downing the whole thing.

“Atta girl” Boyd smirks wide. “And call me Boyd please, I won't point that gun at you again, scouts god damn honor” He chuckles.

You nod, twirling the glas around in your hand.

“This morning a man stepped into the warehouse. Gave me a Personal delivery. He was uh, he was white, mid or maybe…late forties.” You watch him pour you another.

“He had a really big beard, like in volume. Big black sunglasses and a green fishing hat pulled all the way down on his forehead. That's all I saw of him, I swear, he didn't give me a Name he paid in Cash.”

“Fuck” Boyd sighs, he's got an idea who it was. And that's bad. Worse is not knowing whos fucking hand that is. And what's he gonna do with her? Can't risk Raylan having a little chat with her..

“Sounded local?” Boyd asks, taking a good sip of his own drink.

You nod. That man sounded very local, the born and raised here kind actually.

But you still feel on edge, what if Boyd decides to get rid of you? Now that you told him what you know. “Mr…-” You huff, correcting yourself “Boyd? Please just let me go, I know people always say that but I swear I won't say a word. Nothing. To nobody! Not about the hand or the guy who gave me the package.. as far as my log goes.. I went home early and didn't deliver anything else to anyone.” His eyes are Intimidating.

He's got something really fucking crazy about him, the teeth, the hair, the eyes.. it's got you on your toes and as much as you hate to admit it..- he's also really handsome. Threatening. Might really kill you. But hot.

Boyd thinks on it for a moment, eyeing the ID card he pulled from you.

“Can't afford any risks right now..” He mumbles to himself.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuck.

You don't leave him out of your sight when he walks around the bar, hand on his back where you know his gun is.

FUCK!

He pulls the gun out and points it at your chin, pushing himself closer to you.

“I swear..please..I can keep my mouth shut I promise” You whisper, searching his eyes.

His face moves strangely closer to yours, almost as if he's trying to lean in for a kiss..and then you hear the click of the trigger.

Empty.

“Holy shit..” You gasp, staring at him.

“Wasn't loaded sweetheart, couldn't find the full magazine in time when you walked in here” He smirks. “Forgot to reload last time” He shrugs, putting the gun onto the bar counter.

‘Last time’

That alone right there should make you storm out of that fucking Bar. But instead your shaky hands just grab your drink, downing the whole thing before you lean in and push your lips roughly onto his. A kiss pumped with adrenaline and tasting of whisky.

You truly don't know what drove you to do this, just the relief? Of knowing you won't die today. Of knowing you were never in any real danger when he pointed it at you?

The Booze? A way of saying ‘Hey thank you for not actually blowing my brains out?’

It was probably all of the above.

You turn to break the kiss, jumping off the bar stool to leave.

Boyd couldn't be more confused and surprised but that kiss? That kind of kiss is from his exact type of woman, he felt that..

So when he sees you leaving his hand grabs your wrist, it's a harsh tug, it makes you stumble back a little. You use the slight force of the pull to push yourself against him, kissing him harder and deeper this time.

You kiss each other breathless, moaning deeply when your tongues press together.

His hands grab a hold of your hips and slowly the realization after that adrenaline kick sets in. You are hardcore making out with a guy who not only had a cut off, flipped off Hand delivered to him but also pointed a gun at you ‘loaded or not’ the fear was real to you.

It takes some force to pull away from him, holding him at a distance by pressing your hand into his chest. God his heart is pounding just as badly as yours.

“What the fuck am I doing” You huff.

“Shit.” “Been wonderin’ that myself Darlin’! But I like em a bit crazy” His hands run over your brown Uniform.

“STOP that..- this is fucked up” You take a few steps back, shaking your head to yourself you can't possibly hook up with this fucking guy! He's dangerous.

“Ain't nobody forcing you love, there's the door” He nods towards the big exit sign. He's right..- you can just leave.

“Or we take this bottle of fine amber colored liquor and sit on the very comfortable couch in the back, have a few drinks..- amongst other things” He smiles, and fuck it's a really nice smile!

“Up to you, but I know where i'm goin’ “ and with that Boyd grabs the bottle, disappearing towards the back room of the bar. What is still stopping you from walking out of the exit door? He's obviously fucking crazy, and totally in trouble with some people who would send him a cut off hand!

But god it's one of those moments where you look back to later in life, one of the things you'd either be happy you did or didn't do. But the way he talks? Walks…the way he kisses even..-

You walk towards the back with a heavy pounding heart, slowly pushing the door open to see him on the couch. Bottle in hand, prideful evil little smirk on his face.

“Well then, looks like you made up your mind cupcake’ gonna come over here and take a seat?” His hand pats his thigh. Suggesting you should sit on his lap. That's asking a lot….

But you still go and do it, sitting down on his lap. Legs next to his thighs on the couch.

“There you go girl, look at that, not so scared of me anymore are you?” He puts the bottle between himself and the side of the couch, needing both hands to open the buttons on your brown Uniform.

Your hand gently strokes through his hair, tugging a little on it at the back of his head. The way he looks up at you has you melting, christ, how can he look so attractive and scary at the same time. Once he opens the shirt his hands slide it off your shoulders, taking in the bra that you are wearing. A simple Black bra with soft cups, watching him lean in closer to place a few kisses onto your neck and collarbone.

“Just promise me I won't regret this.” You ask, hand still combing through his hair.

His hand on your back opens your bra, slowly sliding it off before he looks up at you again. “I promise” then his head leans down to kiss one of your breasts, the texture of tongue against your sensitive nipple makes you moan deeply. So far no regrets.

When he leaves off of you again to lean all the way back you catch yourself squirming on his lap a little. He's staring at you, at your neck and your stomach and your breasts..

Watching him take another sip from the whisky bottle.

“I'm just enjoying the view, savoring the moment.” Boyd sighs.

“If the gun would have been loaded…” You look into his eyes, you just need to make sure.

“No. I wouldn't have shot you” he huffs, his left hand strokes over your side and then up your arm, to your shoulder and then he cups your face in his palm. “Cause i believe that you knew nothin’ about this, I just gotta be real damn careful with whom I trust these days”

It's good to hear that, so you lean into the palm on your cheek, for pointing a gun at you and being all Intimidating he sure is weirdly gentle with you. You almost feel a bit worshiped under his touch and gaze.

Your hand starts to explore his chest, fingers stroking over the thin fabric that's covering his skin, toying with the first few already opened buttons. That's when you feel a scar, peeling back the layer of his shirt wasn't your best idea. You see something a whole lot worse than a bullet hole scar.

“No. No way..- I don't fuck with that.” You huff getting off him, looking for your shirt. “Should have drawn the line the second you pointed a damn gun at me. But I am REALLY gonna draw the line at bullshit like white fucking Power” You curse, reffereing to the hateful symbol Tattoo on his upper arm. Being disgusted that you even kissed him.

“Now now, hold on. That was a long time ago, when I was a different man, who had different beliefs. I don't share these kinds of beliefs anymore, just haven't gotten rid of it yet because believe it or not, very little people wanna Cover this up and laser is expensive and I don't have the gut yet to just Stick a damn branding Iron to my own flesh” Boyd doesn't get up from the couch however, he won't try and persuade you. He never talked a woman into having sex and he's not gonna start with that now.

“Oh? Lemme do that for you, i gladly burn that fucking thing off your arm” You smile wide.

“I believe that in a second darlin’ “ Boyd shakes his head to himself, finally standing up. The tension is still there, the both of you with your Shirts all the way open. Revealing chest and stomach. “I don't believe in a superior race anymore, I promise” He offers the bottle of whisky to you.

It's still a bit hard to digest.

“If I screw you and it turns out that you do believe this crap it's really going to be a motherfucker on that regret scale, Boyd.” You take the whisky however, taking a good chug before handing it back. Feeling it warm your stomach, flush your cheeks a little.

“I've been a man of god..” He steps closer “I've been a brainwashed racist” He takes another step closer “But I sure as shit have never lied to get my dick wet, but you..you love this type of adrenaline darlin’ don't even try to deny it. Sure I had a gun but you still could have ran at any point. Could have just left instead of kissing me. But you..- Miss..- are a real adrenaline junkie. I'd bet if I pointed a loaded gun at ya you'd soak your god damn panties” He stops just an inch away from you. How does he do that?! This charm and speaking so much truth, how on earth does he know that it really does turn you on.

“It was a phase when I was younger.” You point out, letting him come closer to you. Undress you more. “I bet it was” that evil little grin returns to his face until you have the edge of the table against your butt.

“Booze…tattoos…little bit of weed and a whole bunch of bad boys ain't that right? Lemme guess, you noticed then and there that ordinary flip flop wearin’ legally money makin’ nice guys weren't your type. Always had one with a bit of an edge huh?”

Speaking of edge Boyd lifts your hips up to make you sit on that table, stepping between your legs.

You just nod at everything he's saying with a burning Red face.

“And even though these guys were total pricks, lyin’ cheatin’ assholes…They all had something in common didn't they?” He moves to completely undress you. He takes off everything. And you just let him. Sitting on the table with your legs around his waist fully nude while he still has all of his clothes on and only his shirt unbuttoned.

“God don't say it Boyd.” You squirm on the table.

His hands opening his belt is one of the hottest things you've ever seen. Those big strong fingers working the Button and his zipper…

“They made you scream didn't they? They made you hotter and wetter and moanin’ louder than you ever had in your life…” He sighs.

Your hands grip the edge of the table next to your thighs hard when you nod all shy and caught. He really does have a hang on reading people…Drilling into their darkest deepest secrets.

You should have known that someone like Boyd doesn't do a whole lot of prep, or gives out any warnings, that he takes what he wants when he wants it…- but feeling him push his entire length inside of you just like fucking that makes your eyes roll back in your head. Huffing and puffing because FUCK he's huge, at least it sort of fits.. fucking god.

Your arms wrap tightly around him, breathing out a broken moan against his shoulder.

It was only a tiny bit uncomfortable at first, that feeling is gone now and all you can feel is the fucking weight of his cock deep inside of you. “Fuck..Boyd!” You exhale.

His hand slowly wraps around your throat, squeezing the sides and suddenly that feeling of him pointing a gun at you starts to come flooding back. You want to trust him but..- He pointed a fucking gun at your head.

“Boyd..-” You ask with a desperate sigh.

His grip eases up and when he starts moving his hips he locks eyes with you.

“You're okay, you're alright.” He whispers, placing a deep kiss onto your lips.

After kissing you breathless his other hand strokes over your cheek. Thumb rubbing over your chin “You're safe with me darlin’ I promise.” He lets out a deep moan as well, putting his lips onto your throat and then he sucks gently on your neck.

“I'll hold you…- to that!” You moan mid sentence when his lips leave a hickey behind on your skin. His hands start wandering over your entire body, you can feel his rough Fingertips dance over your inner thighs, hips, running up your sides and then you feel his hands gently kneading your breasts. He really seems insanely into you, not just an object to get off with. You feel genuinely desired and wanted.

“Sweetness, If I'd known how godly you felt I would have never pointed that stupid Gun at you, christ, you take me so good” He groans, kissing your cheek and placing his hands back to your hips to move you into his thrusts.

“FUCK…-” You moan.

The way his hips keep moving and how his hands keep pulling you to meet each and every single thrust is unholy. It's a kind of pleasure you haven't felt in a while. Fucking assholes usually doesn't turn out so well, but whatever Boyd Crowder is involved in makes him the best cock you ever had.

“How long..can you…keep this up?” You ask. It's been minutes already, which is maybe normal but knowing how desperate you both were..he's holding out isn't he?

“Until I feel that drippin’ cunt of yours choke my cock baby” He huffs. Putting his forehead against yours. “God Boyd…” You didn't expect that.

Your hands move over his shoulders, your right hand strokes through his hair. Starts gently tugging on it with each thrust.

If it were up to you, you two could keep this up for fucking ever. His dirty mouth is certainly a little surprise but a nice break from all the cute nicknames he seems to come with. He's only going to finish when you do… that almost seems too good to be true so you try your best to hold out. You let him keep this rhythm up, the hard thrusts and the lips all over your skin when after a minute or two he starts to sound way more desperate when he moans then he did before.

His hand moves down on you, gently starting to rub two fingers over your clit.

And Boyd Crowder was right, assholes do make you scream. “OH GOD…-” Your legs tremble when his fingers speed up, that feeling mixed with the harsh thrusts got you beat. You give up. You don't hold it in a second longer, your core clenches brutally around his cock, legs squeezing his hips tightly when you cum.

And from all that sudden tightness Boyd cums too, letting go of your hip and wrapping both arms around you tightly as his now rather uncoordinated thrusts pump his release deeper inside of you, the sound coming out of this man almost makes you wish you could finish again just to see who gets louder. It's a moan you don't ever want to miss again, the kind of sound that's going to Ring in your ears everytime you touch yourself in the future. His hips slowly but surely come to a halt. Boyd's head resting on your shoulder.

You can't help but to stroke a gentle hand through his hair, the other over his back. He's still holding onto you so tightly.

“Assholes and their damn A+ fuckin’ “ You joke a little and when he chuckles something warms in your chest. His arms slowly let go and his head moves, trailing even more kisses over your shoulder, neck, cheek, all the way to your lips. You are sincerely surprised by that deep kiss, he claims to be one of the bad guys, an asshole like the other's but these sudden gentle and sweet things really do confuse you.

“I’m only a part time prick actually” He leans back just enough to take a good look at you but not pulling himself out of you yet.

"Hm. But lemme guess, you won't call” You meant it as a joke. Of course he wouldn't. This was a one time only thing right? A little fling. Just sex nothing else.

“I was..about to ask if you'd like to grab some dinner” Boyd smiles a bit, carefully pulling out of you and the way his hands keep you from closing your legs so he can take a good look at his work makes you speechless. You can feel it slowly running out of you…the sudden cold air.. squirming on the table again.

“Now that right there Sweetheart is a fuckin’ piece of art” He comments on it too, when finally his hands close your legs for you. God you want him to keep treating you like that, like that's all his, he may do with your legs and your hips and your entire body whatever he pleases.

When he simply pulls his underwear and jeans back up from his ankles he winks at you “So, dinner?” He asks, closing his zipper and belt and then the buttons on his shirt while you still sit on the table breathing through the feeling of that soaked leaking mess between your legs. Thank god you are on the pill…

“I thought you were joking about that” You huff. Making a grabby hand gesture towards the box of tissues on the other desk. Which he noticed and picked up in a flash for you.

“I ain't that cruel” His smirk however while he takes in how you clean up makes you want to doubt that statement.

But just as you were about to agree to Dinner you hear the heavy metal door open in the front of the bar, the look on Boyd's face is..really scary. How he takes his gun and checks if it's loaded this time, tugging it into his belt.

“Stay here darlin’ don't come out” He whispers, leaving you with a kiss on your cheek.

While Boyd goes to investigate you hurry with that cleanup, putting a pad into your underwear before putting your work Uniform pants back on. Fixing your hair and clothes to make it look like nothing happened here. Just in case it turns out to be a fucking girlfriend or wife or something.

“Raylan…” Boyd huffs, of course it would be him. “What can I do for ya” He walks behind the bar.

“Well, Boyd. We found a body this mornin’ missing a hand ! Can you believe that?” Raylan and his acts. “Oh..maybe you can, what's that?” He points at the box.

“A halloween prop” Boyd sighs loudly, of course he's Raylans first fucking stop and of course Boyd forgot to put that away when he got distracted with the most perfect and Intense sex he's had in long while.

“Right. Don't smell like one though, now what do you bet Boyd.. that this hand right here belongs to our guy who's missin’ one?” Givens teases some more. “Wouldn't that be somethin’ Raylan.” Boyd nods. “I didn't kill him if that's what you're asking. I got this as a message, a warning…and I do not know from who” He points out.

“Why should I believe that? Wouldn't be your first dead guy” Raylan inspects some more.

“I got this delivered. Officially. That means someone put some real work into that message, that's what you should focus on.” Boyd is getting tired of this, he has dinner plans. Hopefully.

“Can anyone vouch for that or are you just making up some tales” Raylan pokes at the box with a pen. “Nope, guess you gotta take my word for it friend” Crowder grins.

“I can.” You say with your clipboard back in your hands, and for a second there Raylan moved his hand to his gun holster.

“Who are you?” Raylan wonders but Boyd? Oh Boyd looks mad.. “I told you not to come out” He whispers when he makes a few steps to stand next to you, you feel a bit better about the nervous Marshal in front of you two right now.

“I made the delivery Sir.” You smile, carefully placing the clipboard with your Info and ID card onto the bar and taking a step back again.

“Your neck…are you alright? Did he hurt you? Force you to say that?” Raylan worries when he takes a closer look at you.

“Raylan! I am deeply offended that you'd think I'd ever lay my hands on a woman. That might have been how my Daddy did things but I ain't that kind of man” He protests. You forgot about the redish and purple spots on your neck and throat. It does look like someone violently choked you or something. “Then why does she..-” He squints his eyes, putting two and two together. “Was it consensual?” Givens asks and you can feel some color on your cheeks now, slowly nodding.

“Very.” You smirk up at Boyd for a moment and he returns it, placing a kiss against your head.

“Happy for you two, so, if I check this they can confirm you made this delivery today?” Raylan asks, looking somewhat disgusted at the thought of you two having sex. You nod again “Yes sir! It's all there..I didn't get a good look at the guy who put the contract in. I see so many faces on a daily Basis it's hard to remember specifics”

Now that's not what you told Boyd….

And he noticed that.

The look on his face is intensely hot, it makes you want to drop to your damn knees for him.

“I'll check that real quick then, don't go anywhere.” Raylan warns when he takes the box, the clipboard and your ID. He needs to make a few calls in his car so he leaves the bar, shaking his head to himself. When the door closes you grab Boyd's face with both hands to kiss him deeply.

He lets you but only for a moment, breathing roughly when he pulls away. “You didn't have to do that! But oh am I fuckin’ happy you did. Gives me some time to deal with that guy myself before the Marshal can get his hands on him” He kisses you back. You kiss intensely and passionately before you both run out of air. “I don't do good with cops and if I make any official Statements he needs to drag me to the station and..-” You smile wide “I have dinner plans” You wink at him, having him all over you again with deep kisses, hands on your hips when Raylan walks back inside.

“Jesus christ” Givens complains.

You two separate when the Marshal returns.. but damn it, why couldn't he take just a little longer.

“You two really are meant for each other..with your hefty criminal records and everything. But your Boss confirmed the delivery and your job there, so good for you young Lady.” He eyes Boyd a bit worried. “Look at that..a little more to the whole datin’ asshoels Story hm?” Boyd however doesn't look worried by it, he looks if anything turned on by it. “Break ins. Underage drinking.. theft, even an assault on a registered sex offender with a uh…Baseball bat” Raylan huffs impressed.

“God damn woman, where you been all my life..Smackin’ weirdos around? Atta girl” He smiles at Raylan like he's insanely proud of you.

“You got lucky today Boyd, but remember, I'll be back” Raylan reminds him before giving you your things back. “If that guy really does it for you…fine, but if you want a life away from all this crap reconsider. Boyd Crowder is always bad news” Givens mumbles to you before he leaves.

Once that door closes you and Boyd start laughing, giggling like idiots.

“Boyd Crowder is always bad news!!!” You mock Raylan Givens' voice. “He's a pain but he sure knows how to be funny” Boyd points out.

“So, where would you like to go for dinner sweetheart?” He asks and all you can do is stare up at him with a happy smile. What a strange day and what a strange man, from putting a gun to your head to making you scream from good sex to asking where ‘you’ would like to go eat.

“How about…my place? I can fix you up somethin’ nice.” You offer and his face lights up even more.

“Well then I'm already pretty set on what my dessert is gonna be…cupcake” He teases.

What a great use of this nickname, you can't wait to be eaten like one. “It's a date” You kiss him again, gently.

Hey you!

Thank you for reading!!! I hope you liked it.

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@pixelatedprofilepic @golden-omega @ivyinthesun @catclaw12

(I hope i got that right!)

[aidaronan]

Hold Still

For @steddiemicrofic's March prompt: pin || 388 words || Rated M Eddie flinched. "Shit, Jesus."

"Well, if you'd hold still…" How Steve managed embody the King of Sass while talking around the several safety pins he'd tucked between his lips, Eddie would never know.

"Sorry man, just jumpy today." And Eddie was. Of course that was mostly due to the fact that Steve was on his knees, working on pinning a hole in Eddie's stage pants, which meant his face was mere inches from Eddie's crotch.

Fixing pants wasn't exactly Steve's job, but also wasn't exactly NOT Steve's job. Because Steve was Eddie's tour manager, constantly switching back and forth between being the Nicest Guy You've Ever Met to casting Cutting Words on anyone who dared to be a hindrance. Steve couldn't snark at Eddie's pants though. Thus, the safety pins.

Thus, Steve hovering near Eddie's cock, which Eddie had definitely never fantasized about before. Not even once or a hundred times. No sir.

God, how was the guy's hair always so goddamned perfect even after days between showers? Pure sorcery.

"Eds, seriously need you to hold just this one leg still. I don't care if you go, like, full wavey tube guy on top. Just the leg, man. Just the leg. Wanna do that for me?"

"What I want is to kiss you on the mouth." Shit. He had not meant to say that.

"What?" Steve gaped at him and then cleared his throat, shaking his head as he opened the final pin. "Is that a Weird Eddie way of saying 'thank you, Steve'?"

"No." Eddie squeezed his eyes shut as Steve finished closing up the hole. "Steve… you're fired."

"What?" Steve immediately sat back onto his ankles. "Eddie, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

Eddie made a noise, frustrated.

Steve put his hands on his hips. "Helpful."

"You are."

"What?"

"You're what's wrong." Shit, goddammit. In for a penny and all that… "Your pretty boy face, your perfect hair, your wit you don't even know you have, your lips that are… right there, near my-"

Steve's bottom lip hung open ever-so-slightly as he stared up at Eddie. Seconds passed. Eddie's heartbeat kicked hard against the walls of his carotid.

Then, one corner of his mouth curling upwards into a smirk, Steve cocked his head to the side and licked his lips.

"Right there near your what?"

[loquaciousferret]

Partners

Summary: After a difficult 6-month partnership with Agent Peña, the tension unravels itself in an unexpected way.

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, degradation, sexism, physical violence, rough unprotected sex, powerplay/ light dom/sub dynamics, male-receiving oral sex - rough. sir!kink, semi-public sex (private but in an office/public place), maybe more PLEASE read at own risk.

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: You guys ATE up my mean!Javi last time and made it my most popular fic so far! (nearly 900 notes is absolutely crazy and also over 100 followers thank you so much). He is so much worse in this LOL

@silkiers @tightjeansjavi

“You don’t outrank me!” You yelled at Agent Peña, and the way his eyes darkened when you pointed this out honestly terrified you.

“Maybe not.” He says through gritted teeth. “But this is my fight.” 

You rolled your eyes at him. “It’s everybody’s fight. We are partners, Javier. Equal partners. Stop acting like you are the only person with a stake here!” You respond, exasperated. Since you joined the team in Colombia as Javier Peña’s partner 6 months ago, this must be an argument you have had over a dozen times. 

“If you had just obeyed orders they never would have gotten away!” He yelled, closing the distance between you in the already narrow corridor and stabbing a finger towards you accusatorially. “It’s your fault.” 

“Get it through your head! There is no “obeying your orders” Javi.” You say through gritted teeth, before your voice raises to a yell, “You are not my superior. Get used to it!” You are enraged by his constant disrespect. 

“Well I should be, though.” He seethes.

“What?” You snap.

“How many arrests do you have since you got here?” He challenged.

You scoffed and put a hand on his shoulder to push him out the way and rejoin your team, but he stood firm, not letting you past. 

“How many times have I saved your ass in the field? Have you ever done it in return?” He continues.

You exhale with exertion as you continue to try and pass him, but he is steadfast. 

“Answer me, hm? You really think you’re my equal in this job?” 

“I’m not doing this, Javi. I’m not in competition with you.”

“Right. Because you know yourself that you can’t be.” He sneered.

“Stop it.” You urge him, your frustration growing by the second. “I earned my right to be on this team the same way you did.” 

“Oh now that’s funny.” He scoffed, “I know who your father is. You don’t think him being head of internal affairs has anything to do with your appointment here?”

“How dare you.” You say, seething with anger at his insinuation. It's not like it isn't one you've heard behind your back, but it's the first time someone has thrown it in your face. “I didn’t even tell my father I was applying for this transfer. He has nothing to do with it.” 

“Ok.” He stares at you with a dark look in his eyes. “Then who did you fuck to get the job, then?” The way the word rolls of his tongue makes it sound more vulgar than you could imagine, and before you can take a moment to stop yourself, Javi gasps in shock as your right hand connects with his cheekbone with an amazing amount of power. You just slapped your partner.

“You fucking bitch.” He spits. 

For a second you honestly thought he was approaching you to hit you back, but even more strangely, he is connecting his lips to yours. To your own surprise, you are kissing him back. Roughly, and desperately, and it's as if all of your anger and disdain towards him has transformed into lust with the snap of a finger.

He was ripping at the buttons on your blouse as you fumbled with the straps and buckles on his tactical vest on instinct. Had this been it all along, and you had been totally blind to it? Was all the tension between the pair of you just sexual frustration this whole time, and once it was out your system your partnership could be amicable? 

Who knows. But at this point it was worth a shot. It couldn’t make your working relationship any worse, as there was no way further down from where it already was. 

He pushed you back against the wall where you hit your head roughly but neither of you acknowledged that. 

“You’re gonna forget I’m not your superior when you’re on your knees, calling me sir, and begging me to fuck you.” He hissed into your ear and you froze up under his touch. He noticed, and you felt his lips tug into his signature devilish smirk as he continued to kiss you harshly, dominating with his tongue, controlling the pace of it all.

With your shirt fully unbuttoned he began to make his way down your body, leaving your lips to attach his lips to your neck, collarbones, lower to the curve of cleavage peaking out over your bra. You cursed yourself for wearing a sensible one, not planning on having it on show, but Javi clearly didn’t seem to care, groping you harshly through the fabric cups before slipping a hand inside one and freeing your breast from the top. As your breast sprung out of the fabric, your nipple hardened in the cold air and he flicked his tongue across it, sucking lightly. You gasped and bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the sensation. You figured that adrenaline and sexual frustration were adding to why you felt so sensitive under Javi’s touch, or at least that’s what you would tell yourself to explain why he was having such a dramatic effect on you.

As you got his tactical vest unfastened, you pushed it off his shoulders and it fell to the floor with a loud clatter.

He hissed at you to be quiet and it snapped you back to the reality of the situation. What were you doing? Were you really about to hate-fuck your partner just a few yards away from your entire team and a considerably large section of the Colombian police force and army?

You must have pulled away from him subconsciously as these thoughts ran through your head because the kiss broke and Javier was looking at you, his eyes questioning you. You considered him for a moment, and noticed how his expression had softened from before. Somehow this made you give in to your desires once again and you were reaching out for him, clutching his broad shoulders and pulling him back towards you.

He smiled. This was all the permission he needed to have his way with you now. He had backed off and you had re-initiated.

Javier had known all along that his attraction to you would be a thorn in his side whilst working together. It made him question his own judgment, it made him hesitate. It numbed his instincts in the field.

This was the tension relief he had needed for the whole 6 months you had been here, tormenting him with your mere presence. Your shiny hair. Your delicious scent. The way sweat would bead in the valley between your collarbones, inviting him to lick and suck and taste every inch of you. Now he was finally getting his chance. And you wanted it too.

You, of course, were oblivious to his thoughts and distracted from your own by his lips which were attached to your neck, sucking and nibbling lightly, making you gasp, whilst you worked at the buckle on his belt and then unzipped his jeans. He had a stiff erection that somehow both thrilled and alarmed you due to its size.

At this point he made good on his earlier promise and shoved you roughly to your knees. You gratified his silent command, wrapping your lips around the head of his hard cock. You took him further into your mouth, ever so slowly, retaining eye contact with him as he slid along your tongue and into your throat at a torturous pace for him. When you pulled away just as slowly, slipping him back out your mouth and teasing the underside of his shaft with your tongue as he glided across it, his patience snapped. In a moment he was grabbing both your arms, hauling them up and pressing them against the wall, pushing you back into it until there was not an inch of space between you. You kept watching him, expectantly, and then you opened your mouth widely and let your tongue drop out just slightly. He groaned at the sight and slammed nearly his entire length into your mouth. His pace was aggressive and you felt tears welling in your eyes after just a few of this thrusts as he fucked your throat.

"We're done doing things your way, you understand?" He grunted.

You watch his expressions, unable to respond. A vein bulges in his neck and a few of his curls are beginning to plaster themselves to his forehead with sweat.

"I asked you a question, agent. Do you understand me?" He repeated, partly through gritted teeth as he concentrated on not completely losing himself in the sensation of you letting him fuck your throat so well.

With great difficulty, you nodded your head slightly and hummed a response. The vibration of the movement and the sound had him grunting again, faltering inside you for a moment.

You could feel spit dribbling down your chin, your neck. You knew you must look absolutely wrecked and once again you considered being caught in this compromising position with Javi. Only this time, the thought didn't fill you with anxiety. It sent a pulse straight to your dripping core. The fear was turning you on.

He pulled out with no warning and you felt yourself reaching out to take him in your mouth again almost involuntarily. He removed one of his hands from their grip on your wrists and held your hair, tugging you back away from him and holding your head firmly against the wall.

"What a greedy slut." He taunted, his eyes watching you practically penetratingly.

You whined and he smirked. "Tell me what you want."

"I want you to fuck me." You say breathlessly.

"Oh I will, pretty girl." His thumb is tracing your lower lip and gathers some saliva still dripping from his rough treatment of your mouth. He spreads it around more down your chin.

"But you'll have to ask me nicely." His tone is menacing.

You shake your head at what he is asking for and he laughs, dropping your hands quickly and pulling back from you, beginning to tuck himself away and reaching for the zip on his jeans.

"No!" You protest. "No, I'm sorry. No, please."

He pauses, waiting for you to give him exactly what he wanted.

"Please, Javi, I want you to-" But this wasn't enough and he resumes his actions, slower this time but still continuing to adjust himself in his jeans and tidy himself up. You whine again in frustration. You are already begging more than you want to. But you understand that he isn't going to indulge you until you submit even further.

"Please, Sir."

He finally stops preparing to leave you there and you can see satisfaction written all over his expression. You had given in to what he wanted and you knew you would never live it down, but your desire overruled this logical thinking part of your brain.

"Please, what?" He says, already with his cock out again, stroking it slowly in front of your face.

"Please, Sir, I want you to fuck me. I want you to use me."

"Yeah, that's right." He growls, gripping your shoulders and dragging you back to your feet.

He rips your pants and underwear down your legs hastily, throwing them aside and lifting you up, wide palms spread under your thighs, strong arms hoisting you up to be in line with his hips.

He plunges his erection inside you with absolutely no preparation. It would have been more painful if you weren't so wet and turned on, ready for him to take from you what he wanted. A strangled sound escapes you, something desperate and shameless, between a moan and a cry.

"Be fucking quiet." He hisses.

He is bouncing you on his cock, your body dragging up and down the cold wall. Your hair is becoming more untamed by the second. He doesn't take his eyes off of you, never checking out and focussing on his own pleasure, rather constantly observing yours. The way you bit your lip and screwed up your face in pleasure and pain was driving him crazy.

"This why you've had such an attitude all along, needed me to put you in your place, huh?" He growls in your ear.

You have never liked this kind of talk. But now, with Javi, it is turning you on more than you have ever imagined.

You nod and he tuts at you.

"What do you say when I ask you something?"

"Y-yes, sir." You gasp.

His pace is punishing and the angle is allowing him to reach the deepest part of you, every single thrust was overwhelmingly powerful in its effect.

You braced yourself with your hands on his shoulders and found the confidence to roll your hips against him in the rhythm of his strokes, finding just the right way to stimulate your clit. Whimpers escaped your lips rapidly and he was no less vocal, grunting and panting into your ear.

You felt your orgasm approaching you quickly and began to clench around him as the knot built inside you.

"Oh, god, that's it." He praised. "That's my girl."

Whether it was his words or the sensation of his lips and moustache tickling your ear, you weren't sure, but suddenly you were coming undone around him. You lost your grip on his shoulders and slumped slightly but he tightened his hold on you and picked up his pace, desperate to earn his release whilst your walls were still clenching around him following your orgasm.

Barely a couple of strokes later and he was releasing inside you, guttural sounds escaping him. He stayed still for a couple of moments afterwards, panting while he caught his breath. Unexpectedly, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He helps you down slowly onto your feet and laughs quietly when you stumble a little the first time he tries to let go of you. That's what snaps you out of your post-orgasm haze and you shoot him a glare as you hurriedly get dressed again.

With your back to him, you finish buttoning your shirt. "This changes nothing."

"We'll see." He challenges, taking his cigarettes from his jacket pocket and balancing one between his lips. You shake your head, one more icy look sent his way for good measure, and then you return to your department, trying not to think about all the ways in which this event could come back to bite you.

[sunshinebuckybarnes]

distracted

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x female!reader

Summary: As Bucky's Personal Assistant you're required to take minutes in meetings, but something has you distracted.

Warnings: petnames (angel, sir), smut; oral (m receiving). This blog is 18+ only. Minors DNI.

Author's note: gosh I feel like it's been an age since I last wrote something! There really is just something about this man in a suit! (word count: 1.2k)

There was something about Bucky Barnes in a suit. The way they were perfectly tailored to show off his muscular frame without being too obvious. The three-piece ones in particular were a personal favourite.

With each layer, it was like there was a secret being revealed.

When his blazer came off, you could appreciate how his shirt clung to his arms. Every movement highlights taut muscle just waiting to be discovered.

When the waistcoat came off and he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up, revealing the artwork that adorned his arms; it felt like you were in on a dirty little secret.

And when his trousers came off? Well, at that point you were his dirty little secret.

"Something have you distracted?"

His voice snaps you out of your head. You look around the now empty meeting room before locking eyes with Bucky Barnes, your boss and CEO.

You feel vulnerable under his stare and it lights a fire within you. He looks at you expectantly. He asked you a question and he expects an answer.

Clearing your throat you fumble an apology, making a start on gathering your things until you hear the click of a lock.

Your heartbeat quickens as you lift your gaze. Watching as he stalks around the conference table until he's standing behind you.

"Can you show me the minutes from this meeting?" he asks casually, resting his hands on the back of your chair.

Shit.

You'd been too distracted fantasising about what was under his impressive suit that you'd completely ignored to do your job.

"I'm sorry, Sir, I must have been distracted," you whisper, not daring to glance back at him.

You jump as his hands come to rest on your shoulders. His nimble fingers dig into your tense muscles, if you didn't know any better you'd think he was trying to relax you. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you did know better.

"What's got you distracted, huh?"

His lips are a whisper away from your ear causing you to shudder involuntarily as his breath caresses your skin.

You're unable to form a coherent sentence, your mind flicking through all of the possible scenarios - most of which end in the same outcome.

Bucky doesn't give you much chance to respond before he turns your chair to face him. He crowds into your space, his large arms caging you in as he rests his hands on the arms of your chair.

"Don't be shy, you can tell me," his face is level with yours, his eyes dropping to your lips as he utters his next words, "What's got you distracted, angel?"

"You, sir," you whisper.

Bucky smirks wickedly at your admission, "Is that so? And what about me has you distracted?"

His piercing eyes bore into you as he awaits your response. You squeeze your thighs together subconsciously at the filthy thoughts running through your mind.

Bucky's smirk grows as he watches you squirm under his gaze.

"I was distracted by your suit, sir. Particularly what's under it."

Bucky hums at your admission, one of his hands cupping your cheek gently, tilting your face up to catch your eye.

"That's highly unprofessional. Maybe if you're so easily distracted we should reconsider your role."

You bite back a smile, your heart rate picking up as this little game continues.

"Or I could make it up to you?" You counter, giving him your best innocent look.

You revel in the way his pupils dilate and his hold on your face tightens slightly.

"And how are you going to make it up to me?"

"By sucking your cock."

He lets out a laugh, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, "You truly are something else, angel." Bucky straightens up and stares down at you, "it's all yours."

You don't need to be told twice as you waste no time undoing his belt, palming his hard dick through his trousers before pulling them down his thick thighs along with his boxers.

Your mouth salivates at the sight of his impressive cock. Wrapping your hand around him you stroke him gently, wanting to work him up as much as possible before you take him in your mouth.

Unfortunately, Bucky knows your game and is not in the mood for teasing. He bats your hand away as he steps closer to you.

"Hands on the arms of the chair. You're gonna let me use that pretty little mouth of yours, aren't you angel?"

"Yes, sir," you purr, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out.

"That's my good girl."

Bucky taps the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times before slowly sliding it into your mouth. You moan at the first taste of him, enjoying the feel of his thick cock on your tongue.

He sets a slow, languid pace, groaning at the feel of your hot mouth around him. Thrusting shallowly at first, knowing how much you enjoy taking him fully and knowing how crazy it's driving you to not have it all. One of his hands rests on the back of your head as he guides you further down his cock.

"That's it, angel," he groans, his head falling back as he hits the back of your throat, "so fucking good to me."

He holds you there for a moment, moaning as he feels your throat constrict around him, before letting you take things at your pace.

You pull back so only the tip is left, swirling your tongue around it before hollowing your cheeks and taking him fully again.

The moan Bucky lets out has you repeating the motion as you're determined to bring him as much pleasure as you can.

"Fuck, just like that angel," he grunts, his hips snapping forward involuntarily causing you to gag around him.

Your fingers dig into the arms of the chair. You want to touch him so badly but you know better than to ignore his demand.

Both of Bucky's hands tangle in your hair as he fucks your mouth. You can tell he's close by the way his breath comes out in pants and his hips begin to lose their rhythm. You look up at him and the moment his eyes connect with yours it's enough to tip him over the edge.

You moan at the taste of him at the back of your throat, sucking him harder to drain everything he's got.

"My sweet angel," he sighs, pulling his cock from your mouth. His hands frame your face and he pulls you up to stand, pulling you into a fierce kiss.

You're breathless when he pulls away and you smile up at him.

"Am I forgiven, Sir?" You ask sweetly.

Bucky smiles at you, leaning down to kiss you tenderly, "You're definitely forgiven, angel. Now I would love nothing more to bend you over this table and make you see stars but I have another meeting in five minutes."

You pout at his words which makes him chuckle before he gives you a quick peck.

"How about you take the afternoon off? Go to my place, have a relaxing bath, I'll pick up food when I'm finished and then I'll spend all night between those pretty legs?"

You hum, leaning up on your tip toes to give him a quick kiss, "that sounds wonderful."

He smooths your hair down before slapping your ass and nudging you towards the door. You can't help but shoot him a wink as he pulls his trousers up and you unlock the door.

Yep, so we can add CEO!Bucky to the list of AUs 😊 thank you for reading! As always comments and reblogs are super appreciated ✨💜

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Overtime 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss, Mr. Hansen, runs you ragged but you find solace in an unexpected friend.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Jake Jensen.

Author’s Note: This one is dedicated to my dearest @thezombieprostitute

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

It isn’t until a few minutes after Jensen goes that you dare to taste the latte. You’re still wary of his generosity but why should you be? The few times you’ve interacted with him, he’s only ever been helpful. Yet, that is his job. He’s supposed to fix the printer and figure out why your cursor keeps flicking into the corner. 

It isn’t as cinnamon-y as you expect, in a good way. Not in that way that burns your tongue and makes you scrunch up your lips. You savour the first sip and make sure not to devour it in one gulp. You’ll nurse it for as long as you can. A little sweetener to get through the day. 

You’re surprised as Jensen returns. He's much quicker than you expect. You sit up as he proclaims, “tada!” and puts the mouse on your desk. The box is still shrink-wrapped and brand new. “Put it on the company account and all.” 

“Oh gosh, Jensen, thank you so much,” you grab it and look it over. “You’re a life saver.” 

“Hey, it’s no worries. How’s the coffee?" He hooks his thumbs in his khaki pockets and pushes his shoulders up. You peek up at him then back at the cup. 

“Pretty good,” you admit. “I don’t want to drink it too fast.” 

“Makes sense. Well, if you’re ever down at The Grind, I definitely recommend the salted caramel mocha. That’s my favourite. Oh, and on Thursdays, they have the smores brownies... I really didn’t have a sweet tooth before I started going there,” he reaches to rub the back of his neck. “Um, do you like sweet stuff? You like cookies? Cake?” 

He rambles, not giving you a moment to answer. It’s endearing. He runs his hand up behind his head then brings it around to fix his glasses. 

“Sorry, I’m... blabbering. I just... I’m glad you like it, you know?” 

“I do, thanks,” you chew your lower lip.  

“Critter, where the fuck--” Hansen’s voice blasts through the door as he rips it open. “Huh?” He scuffs out and scoffs as he tilts his head, jutting out a foot as he arches a brow, “well, hello there, JJ Jizzface,” he struts up to the corner of your desk, “and what on god’s shit brown heap are you doing here? I didn’t file a ticket.” 

Jensen stands straight as he faces Hansen. In an instant, his demeanour changes. His affability fades behind his staunch veneer. 

“I don’t need a ticket to be here,” Jensen rebuffs. 

“Oh, you don’t? So why the fuck are you bugging my assistant? I mean, pest that you are.” 

They stare at each other, unflinching. You pick at the lip of the cup nervously and watch. You clear your throat and hesitantly stand. 

“Mr. Hansen, sir, I got you a new mouse,” you slide the box towards him. 

“Good fucking job, critter,” he doesn’t look away from Jensen. “Go set it up.” 

“I can do that. It is my job--” Jensen offers.

“She can handle plugging in a damn dongle,” Hansen insists. “I’m sure you have no idea what to do with yours.” 

Jensen doesn’t say a word. You reach for the mouse cautiously. 

“So why don’t you piss off, tech jockey?” Hansen snarls. 

“With due respect,” Jensen says sharply. “I’m a manager too so I don’t need to take orders from you, Hansen.” 

“With due fucking respect, which is goddamn none,” your boss retorts, “you can suck my nuts.” 

He smirks and shakes his head. His eyes catch on your desk and he hums as he turns. He scoops up your latte and give it a sniff. He drinks and the foam dusts his short mustache. You just stare, trying not to deflate at his thievery. You didn’t get donuts in the break room and you forgot your thermos, and now, your latte has been accosted. 

“I’ll get this set up,” you take the mouse. “Thanks for the help, Jensen.” 

“Mission accomplished, four eyes, now shoo,” Hansen snips and slurps again. 

Jensen doesn’t leave right away but you don’t stay and watch. You only know he’s gone by the familiar squeak of his sneakers. You go into Mr. Hansen’s office and tear through the plastic. As you open the flap of the box, the door slams and signals his entrance. 

“So, why the fuck is that googly-eyed fuck hanging around your desk?” He growls. 

“Sir, he got your new mouse--” 

“Oh, and what did you do for that? You give him a smile? You show some cleavage? Is there anything under that sweater to show?” He spits. 

You focus on your task and slide the batteries into the mouse. You snap the cover on and put it on the desk. You take out the dongle and plug it into the port. Mr. Hansen looms closer and stands at the corner, glaring at you. 

“Sorry, sir, he was only being helpful--” 

“Fucking helpful. You seen that cuck? He’s hoping for a peek at your ass. Fucking geek.” He swigs the coffee and chokes, slamming down the empty cup. “Ugh, that was way too sugary, critter. Go get me an americano from Esther’s.” 

You shove the packaging into the box and grab it along with the empty cup. You nod and look at Mr. Hansen. His blue eyes are like ice. 

“Yes, sir, I’ll go right now.” 

“I fucking mean it, critter,” his voice shakes dangerously. “When I give you something to do, you do it.” 

“I understand, Mr. Hansen.” 

“Do you understand? Do you get what your job is? It’s me, critter. I tell you what the fuck to do and you scurry of to do it. Skitter, skitter, little critter.” He grips the desk as he leans in and his nostrils flare. “Now, I need to wash the taste of that garbage out of my mouth so go and get me some real fucking coffee.” 

You put your head down and leave. It’s your fault. You screwed up. You shouldn’t have transferred the call but you didn’t realise before you hit transfer that it was Melora. You should have screened her like you usually do but you’d been trying to figure out the new Adobe update. 

Stupid, you’re stupid. You should know to just do what you’re told and nothing extra. 

[blingblong55]

Mistake -141

Based on a request:

I've got a request for you! I got lost in my thoughts and thought of a prompt so sorry if it's a bit jumbled lol So it's like a wrong place wrong time kind of thing where the reader is mistaken for an enemy, and taken to the base. Maybe interrogated a bit before the 141 are told they have the actaul enemy on they way to them and they're like 'then who tf is this....oh shit....'

GN!Reader, angst, civilian!reader, mentions of torture.

141, one of the best military groups the British military has. As always, they have a target to chase after, this time it's in a small town. Their informant let them know it would be a person dressed in a completely different attire than they were used to. You happened to be walking back from your boring job when you passed their location.

"Bravo 0-6, we have eyes on the target," Gaz said over the radio. "Roger that," Price responded, Within seconds you felt as if someone was chasing you. And having that you watched a crime documentary the night before, you quickly thought of a way out. You walked normally but stayed in well-lit areas. The men thought you were just trying to play along with your facade. "Don't let 'em get away," Soap said from his location, his snipe pointed at you. You grabbed your pocket knife and held it in your hand. You walked faster towards a more public road. "Quick, Ghost!" Price ordered. You heard footsteps getting closer and closer.

You ran away, not daring to look back once. You took many detours until you were close to a nearby church, Church service had started but before you could even reach it, Ghost tackled you. "Don't hurt me!" you told him, your hands held high. He took your knife away and pointed his gun at your head, "Why the hell were you running?" You tried to stay calm but two other men approached you, Gaz and Price with their own guns pointed at you. "Soap, you got visual?" Price asked over the radio. "Yes, Sir" was the response, a red dot on your chest. You panicked.

"No please, you are mistaken." your desperate voice pleaded. "That's what they all say." Price growls and Gaz and Ghost drag you back to their temporary base. The entire way there, you cried and begged to be let go. "You have the wrong person, please I'm innocent!" you cried. Soap aggressively cupped your face, "Yer shut the fuck up, ye hear me?"

At base, they threw you to a mattress in an empty room. Wrists tied to the other, ankles tied as well. Your teary face looking at them. Your body is littered with lacerations. Limbs are weak but they wouldn't stop hitting you. You cry, "Please...I beg of you...please stop this" You receive another punch to the abdomen. "Don't you understand we will keep this up, you fucking killer." Gaz held a knife to you. Over the radio, the Delta team came on. "Bravo six, this is Delta 0-5, how copy?"

"This is Bravo six," Price said, his eyes piercing yours. "We found 'em, and are on our way back to base." Ghost gave Price a questioning look. Both men stepped outside of the room, leaving the two sergeants with you. "What do you mean you have the person with you, Delta Five?"

"All features you told us to look for, this person has it and they have admitted to being the subject."

"Fuckin' 'ell." Ghost murmured and rushed inside. "Sergeants, step away." He commanded. "Ghost they are talking now."

"Step away from the civilian, Soap," he advises and approaches you with caution. He kneels in front of you and unties you, "Are you alright?" He asks you with a soft tone. You were too weak to move, all you could do was stare. Whimpers of pain filled the room once Price walked back in and took a look at the injuries they had caused. "C'mon, we have to rush them to the medics." Your vision blurred. In all his years of being a soldier, Price had a day he regretted the most. And that was today, hurting an innocent, treating them as if they were the scum of the Earth. What fucked him up the most? The fact you died on the bed of the medical tent. Your body is weak, blood on the floor and how you died innocent and young, a poor civilian taken hostage, begging to be let out and no one heard.

That day, Task Force 141 lost another piece of their sanity, another stitch with emotions and another shattered glass to the oath they took to protect civilians. Ghost added you to his book of names, the list of all those he lost to war, by his hands, or by the cruelty his job brought. Another soul that Gaz ripped away because of orders, ones he always followed without question. Soap, the one who had the most blood on his hands, now regretted not listening to his instincts.

[barefoot-joker]

Yandere!Crimson Headcanons

Hey, guys! Long time no see (or is it read?)! I know it’s been a while and I do apologize. I recently got into Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss, so if you’re interested you can send requests in. Today I bring you Crimson headcanons, which I’ve never done before so this is going to be interesting. I’m sorry if he’s OOC as well. Anyways, here we go!

-There are several ways you could have met Crimson: a client, family of one of his members, perhaps even a target

-However, let’s go with the idea that your family is a financial backer for the mob

-Crimson was visiting your family’s estate to discuss the need for more money

-Your father and him were talking when a knock interrupted them

“Come in!”

Crimson turned to see the oak door open and in step the most beautiful creature he had seen. Jewels the mobster had seen couldn’t even compare. “Crimson, I’d like you to meet my daughter Y/n.”

The mob boss held out his hand and took yours, landing a kiss on the knuckles. “It’s a pleasure to meet ya, sweetheart.”

“Same to you, Mr. Crimson.”

-And with that your fate was sealed

-It had been a few weeks since Crimson and you met, the two of you going about your lives

-However, you had never left the mafia man’s mind

-With that, he gave your house a ring and asked you on a date

-Your father was apprehensive while your mother was elated

-You, on the other hand, weren’t too interested

-You already had a boyfriend, a man by the name of Zeke

-The two of you met at a local cafe and hit it off ever since

-You brought up your concerns, but your mother thought that having multiple suitors was no big deal

-Besides, you never say no to the mob

-So you said yes

-That night, Crimson was at your door with a bouquet of roses and the two of you entered his car

-He took you to dinner at a fancy restaurant where he regaled you with stories of his job

-You felt uncomfortable the whole time and would rather have been at home

-The date ended with him taking you back and saying he enjoyed his time

-You lied and said you did too

-You got out of the car and he left

-Several weeks had passed and you hung out with Zeke a lot

-You were happy to say the least

-If only you had noticed Crimson’s men tracking you down

“What do you mean she’s seeing someone? She belongs to me!”

“She’s been seeing this Zeke fella for a while now, Sir. Apparently, they are lovers.”

“Not on my watch they’re not! Where does this Zeke work? Looks like I have to have a chat about touching what’s mine.”

-Crimson had a little “chat” with Zeke a day later and made sure to leave reminders (some bruises here and there) to have him back away from you

-The mafia boss even allowed him to keep his eyes as he was feeling generous

-That night Zeke spilled about what had happened to you

-Needless to say you weren’t happy

-You called up Crimson and the two of you met in a nearby park

-You explained that you were in a relationship and that while Crimson seemed nice, he wasn’t your cup of tea

-Crimson disagreed

-Grabbing your wrists, he pulled you close and whispered how you were his and nothing would change that

-You tried to pull away but he grabbed your hair next

-He explained that you were his and that he’d seal the deal in a couple of days

-Terrified, you jolted away and ran

-Crimson having a huge smirk on his face

-Sure enough a few days passed, and Crimson invited your whole family to his estate

-You begged your parents not to go, but they implore you all did

-Next thing you know; you’re sitting at the dinner table with Crimson eyeing you up and down

“What do you want with us, Crimson?”

“Be patient, doll. Business comes after dinner in this family.”

-After everyone was done, you all met in the foyer, and everyone shared drinks

-You didn’t dare drink any of yours, to uncomfortable with the whole situation 

-Your attention became diverted when Crimson tapped his glass

“Now, I know it’s odd that I called you all here. However, I wanted Mr. L/n’s approval before I began.”

The imp knelt down in front of you on one knee and snapped his fingers. One of his lackeys plopped a box into his hands. Upon opening it, you gasped. A golden ring with a sparkling diamond on top sat within the red cushion of the small box. “With your permission Mr. L/n, I’d like to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

“I-”

“Daddy, please don’t! I love Zeke! You know that!”

“No need to worry about him anymore, sweet cheeks.”

“What do you mean?”

Snapping his fingers again, a plaque was brought over to your side, and you couldn’t hold back the scream. Nailed to the wood was Zeke’s horns, stating his dead status. “How could you?!”

“He was in the way of what I wanted, doll. And I always get what I want!”

-He snatched your hand to place the ring, but your father spoke his piece

-He wasn’t thrilled with Crimson’s approach and the three of you went to leave

-However, the sound of the safety being clicked off on a couple of guns made you all freeze

“You better rethink your options, old man.”

-Tears formed in your eyes as your father looked around before nodding defeated -Crimson tightly grabbed your hand and jammed the ring on your finger   

-He went in for a kiss and you wished you had never walked into the meeting that fateful day

[gamblersdoll]

cw: power play, boss on employee, blowjob, p in v. please dont say “this is not..” yes its fiction.

this had to be the busiest season of it, of all the year.

the business always boomed around june or july, production sales and having more accidents in the summer. see, when it got hot in the south, no one knew how to drive. the heat must be frying their brains.

but thats where your job came in, you making commissions exactly how you always did.

and you were the most important and wanted agent in your industry, town, and on the market. your skills were unmatched, making more commission because you were a smooth talker.

do you think that passed by your boss, Nanami? you were crazy to think that. he always saw how well you did.

“come to my office, asap.” the message said on your work phone. your bosses’ voice never sounds completely comforting or warm, sometimes stoic. and dare it be past five o’clock, because now he’s just a grump.

you knocked on his door, received a ‘come in.’ you open the door, peaking in through the small crack.

“i did say come in, close the door behind you, please.” he said, nodding in response when you do exactly that.

such a good listener.

“what did you need, sir?” you ask, fixing yourself ad you sat down with minimal effort. he turns back to you, handing a stack of papers. “whats this?”

“im offering a promotion.” he says, a small smile on his face at your excited reaction. “for what could be a small price to pay, just maybe.”

“anything, this is great!” you cheer, earning a small chuckle from him.

and you would do anything for this promotion. you were on your knees, hands on his clothed thick thighs. your scalp burned, nanami pulling your hair. he didn’t pull too hard, knowing you had an attachment to your hair.

your throat expanded when his cock plunged into the warm tunnel, eyes tearing up as you look up to him. your eyeliner became ruined, runny at that.

his groans vibrated around the room, feeling more comfortable since all the employees had basically clocked out and left around their usual end of day meetings. his hips instinctively thrusted into your throat, curling your toes so you didnt gag too much on him.

“get up.” he hushed, pulling you up and bending you over the desk. he roughly pulled your tight mini skirt. he should reprimand you, you were out of dress code. your skirt was too tight and your ass could fall out any minute.

oh well, he had his cock sunk deepen into you to even give a flying fuck about some dress code that was put in place in the fucking early two thousands.

“do you like this, lovely?” he said in your ear, hovering above you. he nodded, “yeah? you do, dont you?” when you mumbled your positive answer. he undid his tie, replacing his neck for your wrists. he tied it enough to not cut off circulation, yet to tug you back whenever he so pleased.

“how bad do you need this promotion, lovely?” he asked in your ear, forcing you to stand against him while he thrusted his cock inside your slippery walls.

“need it so bad..” you choke out, feeling nanami’s hand squeeze only a tad bit more.

“say ‘thank you, sir.’ for the promotion.” he egged on, hands going to your hips as he groaned louder, feeling himself get closer to that brink. he felt his balls tighten, rolling his eyes as his veins popped out of his neck.

“thank you sir!” you cry out, he was hitting that spot that made your legs shake and your thick thighs quiver. “take me, use me please! anything!” you moan, feeling him slam your body back down onto his desk as your cheek pressed up against it.

he breathes heavily, moaning louder as he pumps his cock into you for the last few times. he made a mental note that he had remembered to put the magnum on before he even decided to take your body for his own.

“dont move, i have some wipes that i can clean you with.” he assures, rummaging through his desks and finally wiping the sweat, spit, drool, and your own milky essence coming out of your folds.

“thank you, sir..” you mumble, looking over your shoulder and he hushes you softly.

“you deserve this, youre a hard worker. your efforts never go unnoticed.” he praises in his own way.

[carmenberzattosgf]

Carm helping you study and every time you get a question right you get a “reward”🥵

This has been in my ask box for a month. I deeply apologize anon. BUT ANYWAY YEAH.

You’re over at Carmy’s place. You brought along all the stuff you need to get homework done, but to no avail. No matter how hard you try you can’t focus on your homework assignment.

Instead of your homework, your eyes are focused on Carmy sitting next to you. He’s wearing a tight white tank top that shows off his arm muscles. It’s like he’s trying to distract you.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your homework?” Carmy asks. Your staring wasn’t as discreet as you thought.

“It’s hard to stay on task when you’re wearing a shirt like that, Carm. Besides, I already don’t want to do this shit in the first place,” you sigh.

“When’s it due?”

“Uh…” you check the clock on your phone. “Two and a half hours.”

“Dare I ask how much of it is done?”

“Um. None of it? Told you I didn’t want to do it.”

You can tell Carmy’s thinking by the look on his face. Suddenly, his expression turns into a smirk as he widens his leg on the couch. “Come here. Sit on my thigh,” he says, patting the fabric of his jeans. Eagerly you stand up, putting your laptop to the side. You face Carmy, about to straddle his thigh before he stops you. “Ah ah ah. Not so fast. Turn around the other way.”

“Okay…” You listen, turning around to sit on his thigh. As soon as you settle, one of his arms wraps around your waist, holding you in place. His other arm pulls your laptop closer so he can read the questions on the screen. You’re already squirming in his grasp, trying to move your hips against his thigh.

“I need you to stay still and listen to me, got it?”He tenses his thigh, putting pressure against your center.

“Y-yes.” You say, voice laced with need.

“Yes what? Don’t forget your manners.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll listen. Promise.”

“Good girl. This is how this is going to work. You’re going to lean over and type your answers to each question in this word doc you have open. For every question you answer, I’ll let you move your hips just a little bit more.” Carmy presses his lips right behind your ear, before biting down on the lobe. “You understand?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well then get started.” The idea of a reward gets your mind spinning. Your arms reach over to your laptop to begin typing. Carmen’s arm remains locked firmly around your waist. His mouth presses soft kisses against the back of your neck as you figure out the first answer.

“I finished the first one, s-sir.”

“Good job, sweet girl,” he praises into your ear. “You can start moving those hips for me, now. Nice and slow. Really slow.”

You grind your cunt into his thigh. The movement is slow, but it presses the seam of your pants right into your clit. “Fuck— Carm. Please—“

“Looks like you have…” he leans over your shoulder to look at the computer screen. “Three more questions left. Get back to typing.”

With every question you finish, Carmy guides your hips faster and faster. The kisses he plants on your neck grow to be rougher, nipping and sucking at the skin. You’re in the middle of typing in your as you feel your climax rapidly approach.

“C-Carmen I-I’m about to—“

In an instant Carmy’s arm stops the movement of your hips. “I didn’t say you could cum yet, did I?”

“No sir. You didn’t. I-I’m sorry.”

“Answer the question. You’ve been such a good girl so far, wouldn’t want you to slip up now so close to your reward.”

You type as fast as you possibly can. You don’t care if the answer is right anymore. It doesn’t matter. Once you finish it, you upload the document on your school’s software. “T-there. It’s submitted. I finished it.”

“There we go. I’m proud of you, baby. You got that done in record time despite the circumstances.” He laughs.

“Carmen. Sir— please.”

“What are you saying please for? Good girls use their words. You know that.”

“Need you, Carm. Need you so bad, please.”

“What do you need? Come on. You can tell me.” His mouth bites into the skin of your neck, right above your clavicle. The bruise will be visible for the next few days.

“Your fingers. Please! I need you to touch me.”

“That wasn’t so hard now was it?” Carmy unbuttons your pants, giving him enough room to slide his hand underneath your underwear. You gasp as his fingers make contact with your silt. “Holy shit— you’re soaked. Did I get you all worked up? Had no idea you needed me this bad. Poor baby. Where do you want me to touch you? You’ve been so good I’ll let you choose.”

“Please. Rub my clit. Need it—“ you don’t get a chance to finish your sentence before two of Carmy’s fingers begin to circle your swollen bud. He’s not gentle, knowing you’re already close. His other hand travels up your body to close around your neck. Carmen applied a gentle, but steady pressure to your neck, making you feel fuzzy.

He can feel you begin to completely relax in his arms. “Atta girl, that’s it. I’ve got you, baby, you can cum for me.”

A choked moan dies out in your throat as you tremble in his arms. Pleasure fogs up your head, coursing through your finger tips. You swear you black out for a moment, coming to with Carmy’s hand no longer around your neck. He’s whispering praises into your ear.

“God. Such a good girl. You were perfect, baby. Did everything I asked you.”

“Holy shit—“ you sigh. “Maybe I should get you help me with my homework every time.”

Carmen laughs at your statement. “I like the sound of that.”

[slutforsilverfoxes]

Two Dirty Martinis and One Olive(r)

[A continuation of Oliver with a Twist 🖤]

—————

“I just miss him so much,” you sniffle, scrolling through an album simply yet effectively titled with the olive emoji and a green heart. “Do you think he knows that I’m coming home? Or do you think that he thinks he’s getting abandoned over and over again? Oh my gosh, that’s so sad,” you lament aloud, bottom lip trembling while you stare into your cat’s soulful eyes on the dim screen.

“How much has she had to drink?” Aaron murmurs to JJ as you continue pining for your fur baby and talking Emily’s ear off across the table.

“Well, none of us really ate today, and she’s had one green tea shot and one-” The blonde grimaces as you down the rest of your glass and amends, “Make that two dirty martinis.”

You pop the singular olive swimming in the last dregs of the alcohol into your mouth before your eyes grow comically wide. “I just ate my son,” you declare, your statement accompanied by a gasp.

Aaron smooths a hand over his face to resist laughing at your antics and excuses himself to get you a glass of water. Leaning against the bar while waiting for a bartender to become available, he studies the way you talk so animatedly, emphasizing your thoughts with your hands, and the way everyone around the table has an easy smile on their faces while they listen to you. This team has always felt like family, but your presence has made them complete.

He can’t help but think of his own little family of two, and he wonders how Jack would feel about a new special friend in his dad’s life. Aaron’s seen the way you interact with children on cases, and he has no doubt that you and Jack would get along exceptionally well. Plus you have a pet? His son would be elated to have a cat to-

“What can I get for you, sir?”

He’s abruptly pulled from his daydream of the two of you coming home from a case to your two-legged and four-legged sons, the back of his neck heating up as he turns to face the bartender. Clearing his throat, he requests, “Just an ice water, please. Thank you.”

Beverage in hand, Hotch overhears the last of your statement to your best friend on his return to the table, “…would be nice to come home to a man.” Emily raises an eyebrow at him over your head sleepily nestled in the crook of her neck, and he fixes her with a look that clearly reads Don’t you dare.

She dares.

“Any man?” the brunette smugly prompts.

“There is this one guy,” you confess in what you believe to be a whisper but in reality is heard clear as day by the whole table. You let out a hum and a dreamy smile spreads across your face. “He’s perfect. At least, I think so.”

Aaron focuses intently on a bead of condensation running down the glass holding your ice water, fighting the urge to confess his love for you right here and right now in front of the team. His other option, which isn’t looking entirely unfavorable, is to place the drink on the table and flee the scene.

“But he’s so dumb,” you announce with a huff of frustration, and Hotch swears the world around him comes to a dead halt with a record scratch.

Stifling a laugh at the way the man in question’s sheepish smile has immediately melted into a frown, JJ inquires, “How so, hon?”

“I mean, what’s taking him so long?” you demand. “I’m pretty cute, I think. I’m clearly single thanks to this fuckin’ job. And I’m-” You wave your hands around in front of you before clarifying your meaning, “-putting out all the signals, y’know?”

“Well, why don’t you just ask him out, mamas?” Derek offers. Your girlfriends’ heads swivel in his direction with narrowed eyes, and he shows his palms in mock deference, mumbling a placating, “Damn, okay,” around the lip of his beer bottle.

A sigh rattles out of you as if Morgan has grievously inconvenienced you before you explain, “I can’t, dummy.”

“Why not?”

Aaron can’t wait to hear this.

Your best friend rushes to cover your mouth before you say something you’ll regret when sober while Penelope and JJ jump in to change the subject, but your muffled voice escapes through Emily’s fingers anyway. “HR says fraternization between a unit chief and their agent is a big no-no,” you elaborate, stretching out the word for emphasis. Aaron’s palm is damn near frozen now from stupidly standing there holding the glass, but his feet simply won’t move. “And trust me,” you carry on, bowling over Emily’s desperate attempts to shush you, “I wanna fraternize with that man,” you declare giddily.

Aaron clears his throat to announce his presence, hoping that the dim lighting in the bar will mask his pink-tinged cheeks. You turn to see him standing there and your face splits into a wide grin, your alcohol-addled brain seemingly not connecting that he bore witness to the entirety of your confession. “Hotch!” you cry happily. “You’re back! And you brought me a water,” you sigh, reaching for the glass.

“Figured you could use it,” he mumbles quietly, pulse racing when your fingers brush as the glass exchanges hands.

You assert, “You’re the sweetest ever,” and he’d be lying if he said his heart didn’t skip a beat at that.

The girls are studiously avoiding eye contact with him while Derek is staring at him, dumbstruck, and Spencer is quietly calculating the odds of you two confessing your feelings to each other before the night is over with a small smile on his face.

Hotch finds himself really wishing Dave hadn’t turned in early tonight. Or that he, too, had embraced being a senior member of the team and gone to bed instead of celebrating closing this case over drinks.

“Y’gonna just stand there all night?” you ask sweetly before patting the spot in the booth beside you. Aaron looks to his original seat to find that JJ and Penelope, still averting their eyes, have somehow shifted to the edge of the booth, leaving virtually no room for him to squeeze back in on their side.

Equal parts hesitant and hopeful, he slides into the space next to you feeling like a schoolboy with a raging crush when his leg tingles at the spot where the warmth of your thigh seeps through his slacks.

Oblivious to his racing pulse and thoughts, you lean your elbow against the tabletop and your cheek against your palm, looking up at him with a soft smile and a simple, “Hi there.”

“Hi, Y/N,” he murmurs back, and you gasp, “You said my name!”

“I say your name all the time,” he argues.

“Nu uh,” you protest, “it’s always Y/L/N or Agent or Agent Y/L/N.”

He hums in response, unwilling to admit that your name on his lips makes his brain a little fuzzy and his hands a little shaky.

“I like when you say my name,” you confess in a whisper, and Aaron can actually feel his heart swelling when you look at him like that, like he hung all the stars in the sky just for you.

In all honesty, if that’s what you wanted, he would defy gravity to make it happen.

“How’s Ollie doing?” he asks to change the subject, needing you to talk about something that makes you happy so he can keep seeing that beautiful smile on your face.

“Oh my gosh, so good!” you squeal excitedly. “He’s so, so smart. I taught him to sit and shake before meal time. Wanna see?”

“Of course,” Aaron smiles.

With a sly grin, you negotiate, “I’ll show you my kid if you show me yours,” and Aaron’s heart is now trying to actually escape out of his chest. “You…want to see pictures of Jack?”

“Of course,” you echo back. “How could anybody not love that little cutie? He’s got your dimples, y’know.” Your concentration shifts to your phone then, looking for the video of Oliver offering you his paw while Aaron sits there with a goofy smile on his face that has those very dimples making a rare appearance.

The next morning, armed with the logic that you’ll surely need to stave off a hangover, Aaron knocks on your hotel room door and asks you out to breakfast before your flight back home.

—————

Find the third & final part of Aaron, reader, & Oliver's story here!

AH tags 🖤 @gothwifehotchner