#ink (paperwork) ink (pen) ink (him) and that is all

[television-overload]

of our own making

(an X-Files fanfic)

Oh hey, look, it's that massive story I've been working on since January! I'm so thankful to everyone who has shown interest in the concept of this fic and the little snippets I've posted. You've been more help than you know. Without that support, I don't think this would have ever gotten finished.

A special thanks to @numinousmysteries who kindly beta read for me and did a fantastic job. I wanted to make sure I got this right, and she was a great help!

And now I can't wait to share this with you all! New chapters posted daily!

[Read on AO3]

Chapter 1 /33 - ink and paper

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She'd never have guessed...

Find out if adoption is right for you! Visit us at 8080 Meadowlark Ln. Annapolis, MD “A Home for Every Child!”

Scully stares down at the brochure on the desk. One of many, which are half buried underneath a pile of paperwork from their current case. Certain words and phrases are circled in pen, underlined, annotated in the margins in the familiar scrawl she knows almost better than her own.

stability – less travel? change in division? discuss with Scully

loving home – ask Frohike for real estate agent #

The word “family” is circled three times.

She swallows with some difficulty, finding—to her dismay—that her hands are shaking. Mulder will be arriving any second, and here she is, frozen like a statue.

How long has he been thinking about this, she wonders. What exactly is he thinking? Her mind races, trying to reconcile this Mulder whose deepest desires are spilled out here in ink on worn and crinkled brochures with the one she’s spent nearly every day with these past several months.

She’d never have guessed…

“Morning, partner,” his voice calls out, and she jolts in surprise. She hears the door snick shut behind him, but she can’t bring herself to turn around. With deft fingers, she pushes the brochure back under the stack of papers where she found it, only the colorful corner of the page visible.

“Morning, Mulder,” she tries, clearing her throat. It comes out strained, but she hopes he doesn’t notice. She hides her trembling hands in her lap under the desk.

He looks down at her, half amused, half concerned. “You okay? You're not getting that stomach bug that's been going around, are you?”

“I'm fine,” she answers defensively, warning him to back off. She grabs a file off the desk in front of her with a little more force than necessary, plopping it open.

‘Okayyy,’ he mouths exaggeratedly, eyebrows raised. He sits down at his desk and leafs through some papers sitting on top, arranging them into neater stacks. When he uncovers the brochures, his eyes widen and he clears his throat, hurriedly covering them with other papers and trying to act natural.

Scully thinks about letting it go and pretending she doesn’t know what he’s hiding, but she knows she won’t be able to sleep until she finds out what’s been going on in that ridiculous head of his. 

She idly flips to the next page of the file in her hand, displaying a confidence she doesn’t feel in the firm set of her shoulders

“Doing some light reading, Mulder?” she asks, attempting to look disinterested.

His head shoots up, a look of alarm on his face. For a second he thinks she might be talking about something else, that she couldn’t possibly know, but one look at her throws that theory right out the window. He glances back and forth between her and the papers on the desk a few times before dropping his shoulders in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Scully, you weren’t supposed to see those,” he says, shuffling all the brochures into a pile while carefully avoiding eye contact. “I was working here late last night. I must have forgotten to put them away.” As he speaks, he opens the top drawer of his desk and shoves them inside, then takes a seat at his desk. His nose is buried in a file before she can even respond.

She watches him now. He is a curiosity, determinedly feigning concentration on a case she knows he finds disinteresting and a waste of time.

Typical.

“You're really not going to say anything?” she asks, arms crossed in front of her.

That rankles him. “What do you want me to say?” he asks, indignation boiling below the surface.

She looks at him incredulously, the file in front of her all but forgotten.

“You're thinking of adoption? When were you planning to share this with me?”

He sighs and shakes his head, pleading silently with her. “It's too soon, Scully. I didn't think you'd want to hear it yet.”

“But you're looking into it because…”

“It's just been on my mind, that's all.”

She stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Since when?”

Since when… Images flash of a life he didn’t recognize. His sister, alive and grown up. A quiet suburban neighborhood. Cancer Man living just down the street. A wife and kids, but not the right ones. It was wrong, all of it was wrong.

“A hallucinatory trip into an alternate universe tends to make you think,” he answers simply.

He’s looking at her now, deadly serious despite the joking tone. She doesn’t respond. Can’t respond.

“I'm sorry, I didn't want to bring all this up,” he continues. “I know it's a sore spot for you.”

It takes her a moment to conjure words from her mouth, her lips moving but no sound coming out. “I just wasn't expecting…”

“For all I know, this isn't even something you'd want.”

What does she say to that? Is she interested? 

“I– I'm not sure. I've never really considered it before.”

He waits, his eyes assessing her for some hidden meaning, some insight into her state of mind. He gets nothing. She’s totally blank.

“Well… what do you want?” He thought the question was innocuous enough, safer territory than straight up asking her if she wants to adopt, but apparently not.

She shuts her folder, abruptly standing and slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I'm going back to the crime scene,” she declares, changing the subject. “I want to see if there's anything we missed.”

“Scully…” he tries.

“Not now, Mulder.” Without even taking the time to put her coat on, she flees, leaving the door partially open in her rush to get away. Cursing under his breath, Mulder grabs his coat from its hook and hurries after her.

The elevator doors are almost all the way closed by the time he catches up, but in this case, he figures it’s worth the potential loss of a limb. He throws his hand between the closing gap in the metal doors, and it bounces back open to allow him entrance, to the extreme displeasure of one Dana Scully. He wisely stays silent in the elevator, stealing glances at her every few seconds out of the corner of his eye as they ascend. He can feel the frigid air coming off her in waves. It’s been a while since he’s seen her this annoyed with him, this eager to get away.

He won’t let her. Not this time. He’s learned from his mistakes.

In the parking garage, she's walking briskly, heels clicking on the concrete, and he has to pick up the pace to keep up with surprisingly agile little legs.

He didn’t want this confrontation. There was a reason he was keeping his research a secret. This is exactly what he was hoping to avoid, at least until the time was right to carefully drop some hints here and there. But now? There’s no carefully about it. No option to wait and let this blow over. There’s only one way out of this at this point, and unfortunately, that way is through.

He picks up the pace.

“You're the one who brought this up, Scully, I was perfectly happy throwing those brochures in my drawer and not saying a word.” 

His voice echoes in the concrete parking structure, sounding harsh even to his own ears. As frustrated as he is with her, that isn’t his intent. He only wants to know what he can do to help her, how he can help her fulfill her dreams. He lets out a breath, and with it, releases his selfish frustration. She’s still walking away at a breakneck pace, and he doesn’t know how he can get her to stop and face this. 

“If you want to talk about it, let's talk about it,” he says, pleading. “I can't help you if I don't know what you want. You want me to shut up, never mention the subject again?” he shouts, throwing his hands in the air, “Fine, just tell me. What do you want, Scully?”

“I just want to be a mom, okay?” she yells, whirling around to face him. Her words instantly silence him, and he watches stone-faced as tears spring in her eyes. “I see all these other moms out there and think… I could do that too. Why can’t I do that too?”

Well, mission accomplished. The truth is finally out there. Part of him feels bad for pushing her, but the other part knows that it was doing her no good to keep her feelings bottled up inside to deal with by herself. He reaches out a hand, intending to comfort her, his eyes softening in sympathy. 

“You could. Scully, you’d be the best mom.”

She flinches away, stepping out of his reach. “You don’t know that, Mulder. I can’t even—even my body is even telling me no. Over and over.” She resumes her brisk walk to her car, and he thinks he sees her brush angrily at her face, no doubt wiping away the evidence of the stubborn tears that have managed to escape.

He rushes to get in front of her, walking backwards so he can keep her in his sight. 

“When has that ever stopped you?” he asks. “You had cancer, and you kept fighting. You’re alive today because you refused to give up when your body quit on you. What about that?” He stops abruptly, forcing her to come to a halt before she crashes into him.

There’s no way out of this, is there? Her shoulders slump in defeat.

“You saved me, Mulder,” she admits quietly, shaking her head. “You’re the one who didn’t give up. Not me. It was only because you were with me that I survived.”

This time, when she goes to walk away, he stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder. The simple touch causes her to freeze, hardly breathing, and when he steps closer, she stays. His hands slide down her shoulders, holding her securely in place to ensure that his next words come through loud and clear.

“I’m gonna be with you here on this too, I promise.” His thumbs brush back and forth on the fabric of her sleeves, for his comfort or hers, she’s not sure. “You can still be a mother, Scully. I’ll help you.”

She shakes her head, her heart feeling like it has been ripped to shreds. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.” He gives her a little shake for emphasis. She still won’t look at him. “You’ve kept me alive all these years, how much harder could a baby be?”

That gets a breathy chuckle from her, and her head falls to her chest. Groaning with the agony of this burden on her heart, she stops fighting it and leans into him. Without hesitation, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his embrace.

Her hand comes up to find purchase on his suit jacket, relishing in the comfort only he can provide. She’s past caring if anyone sees them like this here. Let them talk. They already do, anyway.

“Well, at least when you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’re not crying,” she speaks into his chest.

She feels him shrug, and can almost see the goofy smile she knows she put on his lips.

“Usually.”

She looks up at him with her chin on his sternum before taking a deep breath and pulling away.

“It's raining,” he says softly, glancing down at her and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “We can go back to the crime scene later.” She nods, unsure what else to say. She allows herself to be led, his ever-present hand brushing against her back as they start toward the basement.

“Adoption,” Scully mutters to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t know, Mulder. This—this is different than IVF. With that, all I was asking for was your…” her eyes dart around, looking anywhere but at him, “genetic material. This is something entirely different.”

He’s pleased she’s at least considering it, but she doesn’t get it at all, if that’s what she thinks.

“How? ‘Cause from where I’m standing, the process of getting a baby is a little different, but in the long run, the result is the same.”

She pauses, looking at him in confusion. “What– what are you saying?”

He runs a hand awkwardly through his hair, suddenly taking a unique interest in his shoes and the floor of the parking structure.

“Yeah, we probably should have talked about this before…”

“Talked about what?”

He sighs and guides her into a stairwell. It’s stuffy and poorly-lit with a flickering lightbulb, but here, there’s less of a chance they’ll be overheard.

“Look, Scully, I don’t know what you had in mind for my involvement beyond contributing to half the baby’s DNA when you first asked me to help you get pregnant,” he starts, fighting hard to meet her eyes instead of shying away. “But, I– I had hoped it would be a little more than ‘Say hi to Uncle Mulder,’ every couple of months.”

She blinks back at him, speechless.

“I’m sorry if that’s overstepping, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable with all this, I just—” He takes in a breath. “I guess I got to thinking of what it might be like to have a family again.” His bout of honesty is met with a blank stare, and his nervous smile drops. “I completely misread the situation, didn’t I?” he asks, self-loathing waiting on standby. “Got ahead of myself…”

She stops him by catching his coat sleeve. “No—uh. No, you didn’t.” She collects herself, willing herself to offer him some reassurance. Her fingers release the fabric of his coat, shifting her grasp instead to his hand. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

He glances down at where she holds tightly to him, and his lips curl into some semblance of a smile.

“I guess they might have had a point with all those communication seminars we’ve skipped, huh?”

She chuckles softly.

“I don’t think this is exactly what they had in mind…”

With a gentle tug, Mulder leads her down the stairs, committed to holding her hand as long as she’ll let him. The air is stagnant and silent, only the rhythmic echo of their shoes clicking on the concrete steps as they make their way to the bottom floor.

She’s thinking. What she knows now, it changes everything. 

She had asked him to leave. Hid her grief from him as much as possible after her initial lapse into weakness when she came home with the news. She had almost kissed him, then, unsure of what else she had to live for. She knew she was hurting him by folding inward on herself in the weeks that followed, but that didn’t stop her from doing it. She was in a dark place, hardly able to see what was right in front of her. What she couldn’t see was that his hurt wasn’t just for her, born of some misguided sense of guilt or pity. It was his own, too.

“Mulder, all those months, after it failed—” There’s something like fear in her voice as she utters these words, or maybe regret.

“I was just worried about you.”

She squeezes his hand, feeling tears well in her eyes once more. “No, you were grieving like I was, and I didn’t notice. I pushed you away…”

“Dana…” He turns, a couple steps ahead of her, so for once it’s him who has to look up to meet her eyes. Her lip wobbles as she looks down at him, and he brushes his thumb tenderly over her knuckles. “You had to deal with it on your own, I understood that. I don’t blame you for anything.”

Those eyes. So open and honest and sad. She wonders how anyone could hurt him, could bear to break this man’s heart. How could she? 

Choking back a sob, she falls into him, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding tight. His arms encircle her back, supporting her weight, and she feels herself being lifted as he goes up a step, closing the distance between them.

His hand climbs up to the back of her head, stroking her hair soothingly.

“I just wanted to be there for you,” he mumbles into her neck.

“You were, Mulder,” she gasps between bouts of tears, finding comfort in the feel of his soft hair between her fingers. “You’ve always been there.”

He pulls back, lifting his hands to cup her face and wiping away the tears he finds there with the pads of his thumbs. 

“You don’t have to give an answer now,” he says, reassuring, “This is… a big commitment, I know, and I don’t want you to say yes just because I suggested it. I just wanted you to know it’s an option, and if you want to have a baby, I’m in. However you want to go about it, I’ll be as involved as you want. Just– let me know, anytime. Okay?”

He’s looking at her now, head ducked so those sad, puppy-dog eyes can get his message across.

She nods, holding tight to the wrists that so tenderly cup her face.

“Okay.”

~~~

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[m1d-45]

ink, ink, ink

summary: overworking yourself all on your lonesome? not on the northland bank’s watch.

word count: ~1.3k

-> warnings: the name and title of a harbinger not shown in game. yeah.

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr || @ryuryuryuyurboat || @undrxtxd || @rainswept

< masterlist >

you slumped over your desk, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. a headache pounded behind them, the words on the documents before you losing all meaning.

it was late. later than you’d normally be up. later than what’s healthy. but the stack of unfinished files was barely as high as your nail was long, and you knew you could finish it. you just had to finish it tonight, and then you could have the next week entirely stress free. no more paperwork, no more forms… nothing.

you honestly didn’t expect being the creator to be this stressful, though you probably should have. you weren’t bothered about day to day activities, but with your permanent residence under construction, your opinion was required for everything. fabric samples for the sheets—inazuman silk or liyuen?—and tiles for the floor, or would you prefer to have rugs or carpet? the flowers in the front, gold or jade for the inlays, what style of plates or mugs? tea or coffee or both? would you like a garden in the back to rest in? please provide measurements for your clothes, as well as which nation’s style you preferred. please and thank you and we’re honored for the opportunity to serve.

you knew they meant well. you were never talked over or dissuaded, and the envoys from the nations you visited were always impartial in their descriptions. they knew you loved teyvat as a whole, and even if you had a preference for where to stay, you wouldn’t abandon the rest of the world for that one place. so they advised you about weather and the local wildlife, politely waiting when you stopped to let a crystalfly land in your hand. the people of teyvat were kind, accepting your answer with a smile and a bow, only wanting the best for you.

you suspect they knew your answer from the beginning, but nobody brought it up. it was nice to see the nations, and you never regret your final choice. especially not now, when the thought of your lover being so close to you gave you the strength to pick up your pen.

just a bit more, then you can go rest. lie down and be welcomed with warm arms, for he’s certainly long retired by now.

did you want a wardrobe, closet, or both?

would you like curtains around your bed?

how many pillows? what kind of blankets?

a tub combined with your shower, or separate?

blinds or curtains for-

knock, knock, knock.

you blink. you look up. by the time you’ve set down your pen and it’s registered to your tired mind that there’s someone at your door, the person in the other side calls your name in a soft voice.

a voice that you instantly recognize, automatically inviting in. a voice carried in the chest of a harbinger, but one that looks at you with adoration all the same.

pantalone closes the door behind him softly, barely the slightest click heard as he locks it. “when you asked to work in my bank, i had assumed you would be doing so responsibly,” he says, voice quiet. his eyes are low, shadows sharp from the candles lit on your desk, but you know he’s checking the clock the same way he knows you have a headache, silently reaching to pinch out the flame of one of the candles.

your headache eases a bit, and he wipes the ashes from his gloves on a handkerchief.

“is work-“ you wave at your desk, at the cluttered sprawl of invitations and letters across it “-not responsible?”

“at this hour?” his head tilts the slightest amount, and your already fragile will to keep working crumbles. “the only responsible thing to do this late is rest.”

you don’t fuss when he comes around to your side of the desk, sweeping your papers into neat stacks. you just lean against his side, watching as he quickly tidies everything, down to throwing away the napkin you kept on hand for ink spills.

you weren’t used to their fountain pens when you first got here, needing assistance to simply check boxes for a to-do list without the ink bleeding everywhere. your regrator was by your side even then, kindly walking you through the proper form and pressure. he’d been the one to teach you the code used within the fatui as well, and had gifted you the very pen that laid at your desk for your birthday.

the room dimmed again, smoke rising from his fingertips as he pinched out another flame.

“come now.” his hand pats at your shoulder gently, and you sigh as you straighten. he pulls you to your feet easily, bringing you a step closer than strictly necessary. with a neat flourish, he takes his jacket from his shoulders, wrapping it around yours instead. you don’t protest as he helps you put it on, nor as he removes his gloves, flexing your hands to absorb as much of the warmth from the leather as you can.

“won’t you get cold?”

he smiles, his hand warm as he raises it to your cheek. “i was born in snezhnaya,” he says simply, “you were not.”

he puts his hand around you and extinguishes the last candle, this time directly with his handkerchief instead of his hand. he walks you out of your—his, really—office, locking it behind him with a key he tucks away just as fast as he brought it out.

once you arrive at your shared—his, again—quarters, he sits you on the bed, letting his hand linger for a moment to ensure you stay there. you wait as he moves around the house, bringing you water and food, making sure you have at least a bit of each before handing you a painkiller.

when you try to take off the gloves, he stops you with a hand over yours. there’s a thin papercut over the side of his thumb. “not yet. your office was cold, and you’ll need the dexterity.”

“won’t they get dirty?”

“then i’ll have them cleaned, or simply commission another pair.” onyx tumbles over his shoulder as he takes out the tie from his hair, running his fingers through the dark waves to check for knots. “you are my priority. not them.”

once you’re finished with your food and are adequately sleepy from the warmth of his coat, he coaxes you to stand once more. this time your proximity is not of simple selfishness, but because your head keeps drooping and he’s afraid you’ll nod off where you stand.

he removes his coat and gloves as reverently as he put them on you, tossing them to a chair to stay close to you. he lets you remove your socks and shoes then tucks you in with a kiss, glancing back at you the entire time he removes his own. it’s endearing to see you try to stay awake to wait for him, his chest warming at the clear sight of your affection.

eventually he does join you in bed, reaching out to pull the blanket over your shoulder on instinct. your hand fumbles for his, squeezing once. “thank you.”

your heart is in your ears as you watch him lift your hand, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. he pulls away with a smile, brushing his thumb over your fingers. “anytime, my lord. now please, get some rest.”

his glasses are left on his nightstand and your responsibilities were checked at the door, your eyes long closed by the time he settles you against his chest.

[lxkeee]

MY LOVE, IS MINE ALL MINE

—PART FIVE

pairing: lucifer morningstar x fallen angel! fem! reader

fandom: hazbin hotel

genre: fluff

notes: gotta keep writing to feed the simps.

PART ONE | PART FOUR | PART SIX

Lucifer sat in his office chair, pen on one hand as he finally did the paperwork that he was procrastinating on for... A few months now, but anyways.

He was deep in thought, the fountain pen fluidly moving along with his hand as he signed the documents. Mind wandering, dissociating even.

He has a lot to think about considering that the next extermination is coming in a few days.

His eyes landed on his right hand, ring finger bare of any rings. He smiled proudly to himself, it took some work to actually remove his wedding ring and he finally did, his divorce doesn't hurt as much as it used to be. He has a lot to work on, his heart, his mind, and his actions.

He's happy that he stopped staying stuck in the past and now, he's ready to move forward. He has let go of Lilith, as the woman wanted. But he'll never forget [y/n], despite the distance and lack of communication, he still thinks of her as his best friend and he's glad she never stopped thinking of him too.

Lucifer sighs, a small smile on his face. Smiling at the thought of her. His hand once again moved gracefully along the paper, ink rolling off the tip of the pen as he signed his signature.

He misses [y/n], he longs to hug her so much.

Knock, knock.

He flinches at the sound of the front door being knocked, the sounds echoing off the castle walls. He lives alone after all, so the palace is deathly silent.

Lucifer groans, rolling his eyes.

It's probably another solicitor or another sinner wanting to have an audience with him.

Choosing to ignore it and continue with his work.

Knock, knock, knock.

There it is again, the annoying sound of someone knocking on his front door.

He exhaled, continuing his work.

They'll go away if I ignore them, just like always.

He mutters to himself, huffing in annoyance as he works.

[y/n] huffs to herself, crossing her arms around her chest. She's been knocking for a few minutes now and nobody answered.

I wonder if he's home?

She thought, standing outside the door. Hand running over the skirt of her light blue dress.

She waits for a few minutes, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm down her beating heart. Mentally practicing what she wants to say to him when she sees him.

Bringing her hand back up, forming into a tight knuckle. She knocked once more.

Knock, knock, knock.

It took so much patience for him not to break the fountain pen on his hand. Lucifer gently brought down the pen on to his table. Bringing both his hands towards his mouth and nose as he exhaled exasperatedly. Closing his eyes, eye twitching a little.

I stand corrected, this sinner is persistent.

Taking a deep breath, he finally stood up from his chair, grumbling as he left his office. Going down the stairs.

Finally arriving at the front door of his, fixing his clothes to look presentable to whoever is at the other side. Raising his guard up as he doesn't trust other sinners.

Finally opening the door, eyes closed in annoyance. “Yeah, yeah. Who's there...” his voice died down when he opened his eyes again to see a familiar angel standing on his doorway, [y/n] looking at him awkwardly, waving her hand at him shyly.

Did he go insane without realizing?

[y/n] is standing on his doorway wearing a cute light blue short dress that reaches beneath her knees, halo no longer on her head but he can tell she used it as an accessory based on the golden bracelet on her wrist. She looked as beautiful as the day he last saw her. Though, he had a tint of worry as he noticed the bandages on her arms and knees. What happened to her?

Is this a hallucination?

“[y/n]...?” he asked hesitantly, afraid that she'll disappear and afraid she's just a fragment of his imagination.

[y/n] smiled, heart beating loudly against her chest. Lucifer stood in front of her. The white suit with red accents really fits him, he's just as beautiful as she last saw him, more even.

He is really here.../She is really here...

Finally deciding to break the silence between them, [y/n] smiled at him, “It has been awhile, Lucifer.”

Her voice was enough to snap him from his thoughts and without thinking, he leaped into her arms and hugged her. Tears finally streaming down his pale cheeks. The action causing both of them to fall into the floor.

The warmth of his embrace around her was also enough for [y/n] to silently cry. She misses him so much, so many years spent without him made her incredibly so lonely.

Lucifer grips into her waist, burying his face at the crook of her neck as he sobbed.

Lucifer wonders if this was a dream at first but he was able to inhale the familiar perfume she always wore and it was enough to make him cry even more.

It felt like the universe finally listened to his pleas. He was just thinking that he misses her so much a few minutes ago and then suddenly she's in his door step.

“[y/n].... You're really here... Wait...” his eyes widened as he finally removed himself from her warm embrace, holding her arms gently.

“Why are you here...?” he asked softly, voice hoarse from crying. [Y/n] wiped her eyes with her hand but he stopped her as Lucifer summoned a clean handkerchief and gently wiped the tears off her cheeks.

[y/n] smiled weakly, “I fell.” she says with a small giggle. Lucifer deadpans, eyes blinking not simultaneously. He stood up and offered a hand to her to help her stand in which she gladly accepted.

“What do you mean you fell? When?” he asked worriedly, [y/n] smiled softly as she placed a hand over his cheek. Thumb running over the red circle on his cheek adoringly.

“I have a lot to tell you but I fell... A few days ago... Charlie found me and she treated me during it all.” [y/n] explained softly, his eyes widening. Why didn't Charlie tell him?

[y/n] can practically hear the question based on his facial expression, she smiles. “Don't get mad at Charlie, I asked her not to tell you...” she says, avoiding eye contact.

He frowns, leaning towards her so he cups her cheeks, his other hand on her chin. He tilts her head so she's finally looking at him.

“Why...? I... I could've helped you...” he asked, voice trembling. Guilty for not being there for her in her most time of need. [Y/n] gently removed his hands from her face, squeezing it assuringly.

“Because I don't want our reunion to be a sad one, I can't bear to see you so sad and I don't want you to see how bad my situation was...” she explained softly, her thumb rubbing circles in his hand. He can only imagine what happened to her based on her injuries. She's right, he might not function properly if he saw her so injured.

Lucifer sighs, shoulders dropping as he understands her explanation. But still, he wished he could've helped her more.

“But hey, I'm here now and there's a lot that we needed to catch up on. Don't you think?” [y/n] says with a giggle, a small smile on her face. Lucifer could feel his cheeks burning up as he looked at her beautiful smiling face.

Lucifer closes his eyes as a grin finally finds its way to his handsome face, “You're right, you got a lot of explanation to do.” he says, offering his hand to her in which she accepted. He pulls her inside the palace, finally closing the door behind them.

Currently, the two are in his room just catching up with one another. Lucifer's hands shined a golden glow over her arms, his angelic powers helping her heal. He listened intently as [y/n] explained what happened to her.

His heart thumped loudly against his chest as he listened how she defended hell and how she finally got under Sera's skin that led to her fall from grace.

“You really did that...?” he asked softly, his hand working gently with her arm as he unwrapped the bandages around her arm. Her arm finally healed after helping her. [Y/n] smiled softly and nodded, “I made a promise to help Charlie and Sera hid the yearly cleansing from the other angels. It was revealed during Charlie's meeting and I was mad.” [y/n] explained to him, his gentle eyes looking up at her as he healed her arm. “I said some things to her and got her mad and I was placed in a trial in which I ended up guilty.”

Lucifer frowns, softly placing down her hand onto her lap. “I wished I was there to help you.” he says softly to her and [y/n] smiled and patted his head.

“It's alright, what's done is done. What matters the most is that I'm here now...” she says, bringing her hand up to cup his cheeks.

“Yeah... But, I hope you know that I appreciate what you did for hell...” he says, nuzzling his face against the palm of her hand. Eyes half-lidded as he looked at her.

“I know and I'll do it again. I believe that the sinners deserve a second chance.” she says, her eyes landing on the many piles of rubber ducks in his room.

“On the sidenote, I see you haven't gotten over your love for ducks.” [y/n] giggles, his cheeks exploding into a bright shade of red as he felt a little embarrassed.

“I can't help it. They're just so cute.” he says with a small pout making [y/n] laugh softly.

“Don't be embarrassed about it, I'm just glad you haven't changed much.” she says smiling at him.

His eyes widened slightly and then he smiled, “I am glad that you haven't changed too.”

[y/n] smiles, turning her head to look around his room. Seeing the portraits of his family on the wall, they looked so happy. She's a little jealous.

“You and Lilith huh?” she teases him slightly, Lucifer flinches slightly and avoids her gaze. “Well... Used to, we've divorced each other seven years ago.” he says, finally looking at her.

[y/n]'s eyes widened, a frown on her face. She felt guilty bringing the topic up. “Oh... I didn't know, I'm sorry.” she says softly, her voice held a tone of regret. Lucifer smiled and shook his head, “Don't be, it was for the best.” he explained, “We just stopped loving each other, that's all.”

“How about we change the topic?” he suggested with a smile and [y/n] nodded, “Since you're here now... Do you plan to stay at the hotel or here with me?” he asked softly to her.

[y/n] blushes softly, the idea of being alone with Lucifer in a large palace seems so.... Intimate. Lucifer's cheeks also burned slightly as he realized what he just asked.

“Staying here with you? Won't I disturb you from your work?” she asked hesitantly, Lucifer shakes his head no.

“No, no, no... You would never be a disturbance to me [n/n]... I would be glad if you stayed here...” he spoke so softly, eyes pleading for her to accept.

[y/n] smiles, she can practically read him like a book. Despite being years apart, their connection never faded.

“Alright, since you looked like you're begging me to stay.” she giggled softly, looking at him with so much fondness.

Lucifer can only stare at her face, she's looking at him like he's the most beautiful being in the universe.

Don't look at me like that, I don't want to fall too fast.

Lucifer blushes slightly, clearing his throat. “I just miss you, that's all.” he says, avoiding her gaze making her chuckle, “I've missed you too.” she says softly.

“I am really happy to see you again, it's been so long.” he whispers, wrapping his arms around her. “I am so happy to be back in your arms...” she murmurs back to him. Lacing her hand with his with him squeezing her hand gently in return.

They have a lot of catching up to do, a lot of feelings to uncover.

END NOTES: the handholding before marriage finally happened lmfaoo 😭 also imma try not to make their relationship fast paced okay, awkward friends to lovers idk. This chapter feels shorter than usual, meh.

TAGLIST I:

@selvyyr @leo4242564 @blushhpeachh @lunanight1021 @dvc4 @nehy019 @lu-ferri12 @lilteamushroom @froggybich @eddiemunson4ever @who-let-me-write-this @gurutan27 @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @hcneyiced @valerie-36 @jovialcat123 @b0nn1e @raeinn @wally-darling-hyperfixation @faefanatic @trashbin-nie @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @luleck @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @hxzbinwrites @snoozewritezz @juskonutoh @mayhimouto513 @hcneyiced @koirb @viylikescats @ren-ren23 @kouyoumarryme @dou-dou @thatsquitepoggers

[dawn-moths]

Turquoise & Temptations

Neuvillette x Female Reader

word count: 2600+

(Being the girl of Fontaine’s Chief Justice has its ups and downs, but one thing is for certain— the time you two spend together in Neuvillette’s office at the end of a long workday, whether he’s filing some last minute paperwork or simply taking a moment of peace and quiet before heading home, always has the opportunity to get interesting…)

disclaimer/content warning: 18+ content! minors dni! smut, semi-public sex (you’re in his office but the door’s not locked), size difference, daddy kink, mention of punishment with no actual punishment, reader is called “sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby”, minimal prep, some aftercare.

*ao3 mirror*

***

You shifted your position sitting in Neuvillette’s lap, straddling him with the skirts of your dress bunched up and your lace-clad core pressed against where his own growing arousal had begun to jut from his pants, trying to be sly in grinding your needy sex harder down against him, as if he’d even have a chance to miss it.

You’ve been like this for a while now— cradled against his chest and nearly dozing off while he finishes up some last minute paperwork at his desk, lashes fluttering with oncoming sleep, lips slightly parted as your breathing began to grow slow and shallow— but it was technically his fault for getting you so worked up in the first place.

He’d started it, after all, causing you to jolt back to consciousness when you felt his cock twitch in his trousers as your weight had settled overtop his lap with just enough pressure to stir something a little less professional in him.

He clicks his tongue at you, but it’s not with annoyance. It’s with that condescending adoration that tends to weave through his tone whenever you get impatient, unable to let him finish his work before distracting him with your body and the fantasy of all the ways he wants to have you.

Because, while he may have been guilty of starting things, you were far more guilty of instigating, hiking your dress up higher to allow you more room to spread your thighs wider over his own, rocking forward and arching your back a bit until you found just the right place to satisfy your own needs.

At least, they’d be satisfied for a little while. You both knew before long you’d grow needy and demand more for him, tearing the Chief Justice from his more official duties and encouraging him to engage in some more personal affairs.

“Daddy’s almost done, sweetheart,” he cooed, one hand wielding a shiny gold fountain pen and scribbling off his tight-scrawled, looping signature on the dotted line while the other rested on the small of your back, keeping you in place, as if you had any intention of trying to leave. “Just be patient for a little while longer and then I’ll—”

His promise was cut off by a strangled whine caught in his throat, not missing the devious way your gloss-shined lips were curving into a defiant little smirk. His stunning gunmetal gaze leveled on you, his next signature left abandoned halfway through on the parchment as he held your stare, testing you now, daring you to keep going before he gave you permission.

If you did, he might just have to punish you, bend you over his desk and fuck you fast and hard till there were tears in those pretty little doe-eyes of yours, forcing you to keep quiet with a big, leather gloved hand clasped over your open mouth, biting back his own moans the best he could until he felt like you’d learned your lesson.

You seemed to foresee this possibility, so you kept still, your throat bobbing with a hard, anticipatory swallow, your pussy throbbing at the thought of it, and waiting for Neuvillette to resume his writing. He cleared his throat and concluded his signature, dotting the i and crossing the double t’s a little more aggressively than he had previously, the quick tap and scritch of the pen’s sharp nib marking the page in ebony ink making you flinch a tiny bit.

You thought he was finally finished when he gathered up the thick stack of papers in both hands and shuffled them on the surface of the marble desk, smoothing them all in perfect order before tying them with a piece of cobalt twine and sealing the documents with a wax stamp of shimmering silver, ready to be picked up and sent off to wherever it was the court transcripts went once he was done with them, but then he seemed to begin with a whole new stack, this one even taller and wordier than the last, so you couldn’t help but huff out a breath of blatant indignance. 

Neuvillette hummed out a low, lilting chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours as you pressed yourself closer to him, tugging at the lapels of his coat and whimpering in protest. “Don’t worry, princess…” he assured you. “I’m just getting things in order for tomorrow.”

“And how long will that take…?” you muttered under your breath, thinking you might act out and risk the consequences depending on his answer.

But then you felt both of his gloved hands on you, long fingers flexing where they held your hips, sending a momentary confusion through you when he seemed to be pulling you down harder against him rather than shifting you away for your backtalk.

“Tell you what,” he began, his voice, normally so authoritative and commanding in the courtroom, turned honey-sweet and soothing when it came to you, even when you were insisting on being a little bit of a needy brat. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work—” He held up a finger to signal silence as your mouth fell open in premature protest. “You let me get ahead of tomorrow’s work,” he repeated, pausing for a second and raising his eyebrows slightly, challenging you to try and interrupt again, “and I’ll let you have your way until I’m done.”

You cocked your head at him, eyes narrowed and mouth twitching into a crooked frown of pondering, wondering if this was some kind of test or not. Then it was his turn to catch you off guard, rocking his hips up into yours and causing you to emit a stuttering gasp as you felt just how hard his length had become, your eyes fluttering and beginning to roll from the sudden jolt of pleasure, your body surging with the need for more, more more, sheer, unadulterated want racing through your blood like sparks of white-hot electricity.

“Go on…” he smugly directed you, his eyes flicking from your face down to where your two bodies sought each other out and back again. Then, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear, his lips barely brushing the shell of it and causing a gentle shudder to skitter up your spine, he teasingly murmured, “Just be sure not to make too much noise. I’m pretty sure I left the door unlocked and, well…”

And, well, if anyone heard your high-pitched moans muffled from the other side of the double doors, they might creep up closer to investigate, maybe even dare to enter after giving the customary knock of courtesy and find you in a state you’d be mortified for anyone besides Neuvillette to see you in.

“I’ll be quiet,” you muttered back, unable to hide the excitement that was flooding your chest more and more by the second, your eager little fingers fumbling with his belt buckle, the gentle clink of the silver against your freshly manicured nails— this week a shade of pale turquoise— echoing quietly throughout the spacious office room until finally you were able to tug the leather strap free so it could dangle from the sides of the loops in his pristinely pressed trousers.

Pristine, of course, except for the damp spot left on his crotch, both of your intermingled arousal staining through to ruin his expensive work attire.

That was alright with Neuvillette though. Whether it was his clothes or your own that got ruined during these acts, he could always just buy more. To him, a constantly updated wardrobe was a small price to pay for how good it felt when he was inside you, suddenly wishing he’d decided to leave early that day so you two could finish this in your shared master bedroom of his estate, no need to keep quiet in the slightest as he forced melodic mewls and euphoric moans from your pretty little mouth, drinking them in, drowning in them, completely addicted.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised you, pressing a chaste, tender peck to your temple before continuing on with his work.

Once you’d pulled his cock free of its constraints, Neuvillette had to remind himself to keep his own sounds of pleasure quiet as well, gulping down the groan he already felt rising in his chest as you ran your soft little hands up and down the length of him, appearing entranced as you admired the blushing pink tip, pearly pre-cum already drooling out onto your palms, every vein and ridge of his velvety member practically committed to your memory, and making your dripping little hole flutter in anticipation.

Neuvillette gripped the gold fountain pen in his hand a little tighter, his stomach muscles flinching as you guided his cock between your soaked folds, the lace of your drenched panties giving just enough friction to make him crazy, melting his sharp mind into something dull and hazy with the slow dripping pleasure, his breath beginning to come out in short, panting huffs rather than the sure, steady, and stoic way he usually carried himself.

“God—” he exhaled, strangled and struggling to keep his composure. You grinded yourself down harder against him, your own angelic sighs of satisfaction fanning over the bit of exposed skin on his neck and making his cock pulse in your grip. Then he couldn’t take it anymore, reaching down to hook his thumbs into the thin, delicate waistband of your lace panties and tearing them off with one harsh, hungry tug.

And he always said you were the one who was too impatient.

“I can’t focus with you around,” he was practically growling, stealing his cock away from your clumsy little hands and guiding it by the base until he felt the tip catch on your tight little hole, tugging another sharp gasp from your throat, using the other hand to nudge you forward to sink further down onto his cock.

You bit your tongue as you felt a moan clawing its way up your chest, knowing he’d been serious when he’d told you to keep quiet— for both his sake and yours— but you couldn’t hold it in. Burying your face in his shoulder, you cried out as he forced himself the rest of the way in with one quick, stinging thrust, splitting you in two and causing fat, sparkling tears to well in your blurring vision from the sudden, burning stretch of him nestled so deep inside of you.

You felt his body relax a fraction then, shedding some of that animalistic desire and allowing him to return to the safety of the sweet, soft-spoken Daddy that you knew him to be, running a hand up and down you back in slow, soothing motions as he muttered out little apologies like, “Sorry for being so rough with you, sweetheart,” and “Daddy just couldn’t take it anymore. But don’t worry. I’m going to make it all up to you now,” until you raised your head from its hiding place in his shoulder and let him pepper loving little kisses to your neck, his mouth trailing down to the plush, flushed flesh of your exposed cleavage and sucking a little there, giving you some time to adjust to the feeling of being so painfully full of him.

“Please…” you exhaled, voice cracked and broken with another whine of pleasure as the aching in your core twisted even tighter, a cord about to snap. “Please, Daddy… I need you. Please…”

And Neuvillette didn’t wait a second longer to start rolling his hips up into you again, slow and steady at first, tugging one of his gloves free with his teeth and tossing it to land on his desk so he could feel every part of you, running the rough pad of his thumb over your pulsing, swollen clit and clenching his jaw as he winced, feeling your insides squeeze around him in that painfully sweet way you both loved so much.

“That’s it…” he encouraged, rocking up into you a little harder then as the pressure of his circles increased, knowing neither of you had much longer to go now, his voice laced with something raspy and borderline feral. “Good girl… Just like that— Archons, baby—”

You were biting the fabric of Neuvillette’s coat between your teeth, doing your best to ride him in tandem with his skillful ministrations until you were seizing up and coming undone for the first time that evening, your legs trembling and your muscles constricted as more of your glistening slick dripped down in thick, dewy strands to stain the inside of your thighs and his trousers, his cock pulsing where it was still buried deep inside your tender cunt.

He was filling you to the brim mere seconds later, the familiar flood of his viscous, sticky warmth filling your tummy and soothing you from the inside out. As you slumped in his arms, Neuvillette held you close, running the fingers of his untarnished, gloved hand through your hair and whispering sweet nothings into your ear, tracing little patterns into the soft skin between your shoulder blades where there was a diamond cutout in your dress’s back as he helped you through the comedown.

Once he’d gone completely soft inside of you, he placed both hands under your thighs and carefully lifted you from his lap and onto the top of his desk, pushing the papers that still littered it to the far end before instructing you to lay back so he could clean you up. At least, to the best of his ability given all he really had on hand at the moment was a handkerchief. 

You flinched as the cool marble of the desktop met the backs of your bare arms, exhaling a shuddering breath through your nose as the cold air of the room kissed your exposed, soaked pussy, sending yet another chill through you.

“I know, baby…” Neuvillette cooed, giving the crisp, satiny handkerchief in his hand a quick whip so it could unfurl, starting his tender, meticulous work in caring for his favorite girl after she was so spent. “I’ll draw you a nice, warm bath once we get home, so just bare it a little longer, alright?”

As he wiped as much slick from between your legs as he could, attempting to attend to himself afterward but giving up halfway, just thankful the length of his coat would cover any lingering evidence, you felt like you could drift off to sleep again, eyelids growing heavy as the surface of the desk gradually warmed beneath you from your radiating body heat.

But you couldn’t sleep here. Not now. Because not five seconds after Neuvillette had helped you off the desk and back on your own two wobbly, tired legs, straightening out your skirts and smoothing down the front of his closed coat, there was the tell-tale knocking of one of the courthouse’s interns at the office door.

You gave your Daddy a look of concern and alarm, unsure of how much evidence of what you two had done was left in the open, but Neuvillete just flashed you a cocky grin and called out for them to enter, quietly telling you to take a seat in the big, plush armchair behind his desk as he grabbed up the papers and hurried to meet the intern halfway to hand them off, engaging in a short, pleasant conversation before sending them on their way and hopefully none the wiser.

“Alright, princess,” he beckoned you, reapproaching to offer you a hand as you stood from the chair. “Let’s go home.”

Just before allowing you to lock your arm with his like you usually did, Neuvillette knelt down and picked up a piece of shredded, icy blue lace fabric— the remnants of one of your favorite pair of panties, destroyed with his impatiently eager hands— and shoved it into his pocket.

He’d owe you new ones, plus interest, for having torn them up without any warning, but you didn’t necessarily mind.

You just hoped the next time you two did something like this in his office during work hours, he remembered to lock the door.

***

(Anyone else also sort of obsessing over some of the new Fontaine guys, or just me lol

I definitely see myself writing more for Neuvillette in the future, especially as we learn more about him.

Anyway, like always, thank you so much for reading. Have a wonderful day! <3)

[maopll]

Hello! Could I request Diluc, Ayato, Kaeya and Itto's s/o waking up from a nap and groggily saying "hello, handsome" when she sees them ?

Golden Hour

# genshin edition !

⌗:, a/n: No cause i dont think i'l be able to keepmy head straight as soon as i see these guys infront of me. And yes the title does depict thesong golden hour by jvke!!

⌗:, warning: none

⌗:, pairings: diluc, kaeya, itto & ayato w/ gn!reader

— DILUC ♡

The warm yellow sunshine through the curtains fell on your face rendering you awake from your sweet slumber. Even in the midst of waking up, Diluc felt your shuffling. Knowing very well how much your adore sleep he placed a gentle hand over your eyes to block the sunshine. You switched your position and faced him. It looked like he was awake a long time ago. He has this habit of basking in the quite morning with your sleeping form beside him.

You nuzzled into his chest. The smell of fresh grapes wafted into your nose. "mhm..Good morning handsome" you slurred. Sleep evident in your voice. Diluc's chuckle reverberated in his chest. "Good morning to you too, my angel. His voice was a little raspy since he also just woke up. He rarely showed this intimate side to anyone, and only you were the one with whom he gladly shared such vulnerable moments of his. He wrapped his one arm around your waist and kept the other underneath your head and pulled you close to him with such gentleness that to others they would seem like a foreign nature of the usual cold and stoic Diluc. But they were all filled with warmth and comfort. "We can indulge in your cuddles for 5 more minutes hm?"

— KAEYA ♡

The soft sound of pen scratching against paper awoke you from your sleep. You saw him infront of you surrounded by calvary paperworks. Ah..so that's why the scent of ink was so strong. He smiled at you, the tenderness of love and a slight hint of tease evident in his eyes. You looked at him drowsily and gave him a lopsided smile.

Softly you said, "Hello handsome, done with your paperwork yet?" Your voice raspy yet laced with honey and adoration for him. "It seems my beloved is eager for my attention?" There it was, he started teasing you like usual. You got up from the uncomfortable position grunting since keeping your head down on hardwood will not be giving you the same level of comfort like the satin pillow or kaeya's lap. He laughed breathily, "Just a moment dear after a few lines I'll be able to give you the attention you've been itching for" you rolled your eyes at him playfully "Bold of you to assume I've been craving your love" he cut you off saying "Oh? so can I assume that you calling my name in your sleep is not you wanting me?" "Oh come on!"

— ITTO ♡

The sound of laughter, playful shouting and things crashing and tumbling woke you up, quite rapidly, from your most deserved sleep. Although you were quite mad at whatever caused you to get up so abruptly, your rage settled into pure adoration as soon as you saw your lover with children around him playing his all time favourite game, Onikabuto fight.

You kept watching as the scenes unfolded. The blissful scene accompanied with the rustling of the tree leaves and grass with gentle breeze was too magical to be real amidst the internal aggression in Inazuma. Nevertheless, your lover still managed to find, like usual, the joy in little moments like these. And so did you. After losing for the nth time in a row, he bid farewell to the kids and his good gals, he rushed over to you like a toddler running towards their mother holding treats. "I'm here, I'm here love!" you smiled warmly, "Hello handsome, so how was your day?". Your voice was a little hoarse since you woke up not too long ago. "Let's go home now?" Itto quite readily agreed and as soon as you got up on your legs, he picked you up on his back giving you a piggyback ride. "I can walk you know?" "Well I'm cold! and the breeze is freezing me! you were the closest thing that was warm so not my fault!" You sighed at his childlike behaviour but, it was a little cold. "Alright then, let's go home now" and you sealed your words with a kiss on his cheek. "Ya got it!"

— AYATO ♡

The faint familiar voice and the aroma of freshly brewed black tea filled the room. You slowly opened your eyes, finding yourself leaning against the shoji. Accompanied with the scent of black tea, the fragrance of sakura in full bloom filled your olfactory senses. You blind once or twice and were greeted with the relaxed frame of your lover Ayato.

"Slept well dearest?" he said, voice laced with joy. A soft smile crept on your lips involuntarily, "Hello handsome and yes I had a good sleep". You stretched your arms to wake you up and energizer yourself. "Thoma brewed the tea just now, have it while it's still warm" saying so he picked the cup up. He looked calm. He glowed amidst the cherry blossoms. The slight curve of his lips and the peace in his eyes had you staring for longer than you actually intended to. As if hypnotised by his movements, your hands reached out for the warm cup right next to you. You smiled, closing you eyes you took the scent in. A petal had fallen from the tree on the drink but its alright.As if in a trance, you couldn't find the sttength in you to remove that petal. You took a sip of the savoury tea. "Hah..." you locked your eyes with his. "It's as delicious as always love"

[two-white-butterflies]

peaches - am. targaryen

Description: Your father decided to marry you to the elusive, Aemond Targaryen. After a year of marriage, he still refuses to acknowledge your existence - that is until after Criston Cole becomes his son's teaching instructor. Cole isn't only interested in teaching your son. (MODERN AU) Rating: Mature 18+ (breast play, jealousy sex, desk sex, slight breeding kink, size kink, spit kink because it wouldn't be an aemond fic without it.)

There was nothing to love - no personality or show of appreciation. He kept to himself and expected you to do the same. "Aegon, please calm down." you mumble aware of Aemond's gaze from inside his office. "I wanna go swimming!" the child demands staring at the pool with his adorable purple eyes.

Aemond has shown no interest in helping you raise his son. He's there for parties and events - there when the child has a nightmare, but when it comes to Aegon's day-to-day activities - he's absent. You sigh. Aemond is a great father, but he's occupied with his work.

"We have to wait for the instructor, ñuha tresy." you smile, adjusting the skimpy swimsuit that you wore. It was revealing - it exaggerated the best parts of your body, while hiding the parts that you hated. Any husband wouldn't be able to keep his hands off you - but he was able to. Aemond has never touched you before - not even a strand of your hair. "Please, I won't go in the deep parts." he promised, jumping up and down with excitement.

A laugh escapes your lips, not trusting the little boy.

You lean down to his body - pushing a strand of his hair away from his face. "Have patience, little one." you answered firmly, prompting the boy to give you his best puppy eyes. You were about to allow him down the pool but someone clears their throat from behind you.

Criston Cole was staring at you - specifically your endowments. Your posture shifts as your body regains it's full height. He had that porno look in his eyes. The one that a man has before fucking a girl in a pornhub video. You didn't like it - you felt disgusted.

"Well, Mr. Cole will take care of you now." you walked to the side - gathering the robe on the daybed. You walk away from the pool - trusting the maids to supervise your step-son.

Completely unaware of Aemond's gaze.

He tried to focus on the mountains of paperwork on his desk - but he couldn't. His mind was elsewhere. He imagines you wearing that red swimsuit. The fucking swimsuit that you bought for him - the swimsuit that he should be the only one looking when you wore. He sees the way Criston Cole stares at you.

He places his pen down, opening his venetian blind slightly to watch his son learning to swim. You were standing there again - hovering over them with a blue-towel on your hands.

His son wasn't learning to swim - he was on top of a fucking floater while the instructor ogled at your breasts. His grip on his fountain pen tightens, spilling ink on his brand new pants.

He'll fucking gouge that man's eyes.

He reaches for his telephone, dialing his sister. "Helaena, are you there?" he pauses waiting for his sister's reply.

"Yeah?" she questioned.

"Can you escort Mr. Cole to his car? We won't be needing his services any longer." he commands, earning a snort from his older sister. "Is this because of his wandering eye?" she inquired, and he could hear the faint sound of someone slurping milkshake on the other line.

"If you have a problem with him staring at (your name)'s body, then you should fire all of your house-staff." she taunted, not telling the full truth - but also wanting to see how the situation would turn out. You were a pretty little thing - the eye-candy inside the Targaryen manor.

Everyone but Aemond seemed to be engrossed with you.

"What?" he interrogated, voice suddenly raising with anger. He could imagine all of his servants staring at you, watching you strut like a model on fashion-week.

"Fire Mr. Cole, right? I'm on it." she promised, ignoring his outburst and hanging up on him.

You were annoyed with everything.

Annoyed with Aegon singing his favorite nursery rhyme while underwater. Annoyed by your husband's lack of emotion and annoyed with Cole trying to talk to you.

Helaena comes to save you.

"Mr. Cole." she looks down with her sweet voice. "Yes?" he asked, pretending to hold little Aegon. "The maids have prepared your towels and the shower that you will be using. We do not need your lessons anymore." she announced and his face falls flat on the ground. "What? That's impossible - Aeg doesn't know how to swim yet." he defended but Helaena's thin-lipped smile proved that he wasn't doing shit.

"We can have that arranged, but as of the moment we have no need of you." the woman added, one of the maids held unto the boy while Criston emerged from the pool - mumbling strings of insults.

There were three rules before your marriage to him. One, don't do anything that would ruin his reputation. Two, remain loyal to him. And three, never go inside his rooms.

This was your first time stepping on the carpet that was outside his office door.

"Aemond." you call out.

The door opens automatically and you welcome yourself inside.

He doesn't stare at you - or even acknowledges your existence. He keeps on jotting down his notebook. "Did you have to fire Mr. Criston? I don't like him but Aegon adores him." you ask in a soft tone, careful to not offend him.

It was impossible to offend him - no matter how hard you tried, he always kept his cool.

"He's incompetent. There's no room for that in my household." he replies in a cold tone, continuing to sign a few bands of contracts. "I suppose," you look around the room - scanning around his decor. There were pictures of history around the walls - the beginning of industrialism and the decline of tradition.

He was a man of the arts - and you didn't know that.

You knew nothing about your husband. How fucking stupid.

" - and don't wear that swimsuit again." he added after a deep breath. Your eyebrows merged into each other. He wasn't going to tell you what you could and couldn't wear. "I beg your pardon?" you inquire.

He looks up from his paper - and unto you. The girl who was still wearing the said swimsuit.

"It's not appropriate." he asserted through gritted teeth. He couldn't understand why he was riled up at the thought of other man staring at you - and your round and perfect peaches. "What is appropriate to you? I cannot wear my pajamas around the pool." you responded in a brash manner, his eye widens at your show of rebellion.

"You can wear a bikini but not around men." he tried to reason, navigating himself around the labyrinth of his own reasoning. He didn't make sense. "Not around you, then?" you take a step forward, dominating over him in front of his desk.

He stands up, reaching for the collar of the bathrobe that you wore - he pulls your body closer, merging his lips with yours.

What is his is yours.

His money, his empire, even his son - but you were only his.

His to fuck. His to breed.

A moan escapes your mouth as you began climbing over the desk. Kneeling but you weren't able to reach his height. Your head only reached his eyebrows. "He was staring at you, huh?" he asked, slowly untangling the strings that held your top.

With a tug of a string, your breasts were revealed to him. Taut and bouncy, like he imagined them. His hands fondled your breasts, playing and teasing them. He lowers his head, sniffing your neck and placing a nipple inside of his mouth.

He was sucking you - like a newborn babe searching for milk.

"Aemond." you moaned, pulling his head closer.

His right hand trails down to your mound, teasing it through the cloth. "You are mine." he announced, pressing kisses on both of your breast - alternating between the two of them. "Yours." you replied, his hands untangling the string that held your bottom - letting it loose.

He frees himself from your grasp, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He lowers his boxers - freeing his cock that stood tall and proud. Your eyes widened at his length - it was going to fit, but it was going to hurt.

You sit properly on his desk, legs wide open as you welcomed him. "Do it." you demanded earning an amused chuckle from the business magnate. He places a hand on your face - cupping your cheeks. He inserts a finger inside your mouth, allowing you to suck on it as his cock enters your hole.

It was pleasure - breath taking pleasure.

Your grip on his shoulder tightens, telling him to go deeper.

"Harder." you moaned.

He complies with your order, lifting your leg to reach the top of his elbows. "Fuck - shit." you cursed, entering a new realm of pleasure. There were stars in your eyes. You hold unto his shoulder, eyes gazing up to interlock with his.

His eye was beautiful.

It was a deep shade of lavender.

"Keep moaning and I'll cum." he threatened, pulling your body closer and rocking his desk. The paperwork was forgotten - all in favor of his beautiful girl. "Cum inside of me." you moaned again, feeling his length prod inside your cervix. "You want to give our son a sibling?" he chuckled darkly.

"Yes!" you moan. His cock was reaching places you didn't believe was possible.

You hear the desk rock loudly - like an earthquake. Your leg falls on his side, and he raises the other one over his shoulder - slightly tipping your body to be lying down. "Oh - Aemond!" you scream feeling otherworldly bliss.

His hands squeeze around your cheeks, staring at your face - mouth wide open with lust. "Who owns you?" he asks, squeezing it tightly. "You do!" you answer, and he smiles.

Rocking on a steady rhythm.

"Open your mouth, princess." he commands and you follow him, opening wider. He closes his mouth - gathering the spit on his tongue, releasing it on your mouth. "Swallow." he ordered and you obeyed him - the faint taste of whiskey lathering inside your mouth.

"I love you," you confess feeling a hot sensation in the bottom of your stomach. "I love you to, princess." he replies, merging your lips together as thick ropes of cum populate your ovaries.

[credince--writes]

Scary Dog

You need a new printer. Sometimes you need to bring negotiation aids.

Useless, shitty little one-shot because I need something else to work on.

Konig x Medic!Reader

Scary dog privileges

Your pen tapped against the desk you sat at. The smell of sanitizer and printer ink was fresh on your nose.

And, well your skin too.

That goddamn printer, it was always breaking, half of the time you thought it would just catch fire.

It would be easier that way if it just did, then you'd be able to get a new one.

But, alas, you weren't the head bitch of the armed-with-alcohol-pads crew. That lovely position was reserved by Lud.

All the other doctors lovingly refer to him as Dud.

Because that is what he is.

A Dud.

A lazy, selfish, piece of-

You were getting sidetracked.

He would always deny your requests for a new printer, and at this point, it was a hindrance to your job.

The black ink splattered all over you, staining your shirt and skin was proof of that.

You prided yourself in your work,

your efficiency.

Your ability to get the things others couldn't get done, done.

Just so happened that because of this, you got the....

How could you phrase it?

Well,

you got the scary dogs.

They were big, and they looked mean as hell.

But all it took was a threatening glance and they were rolling over showing their soft puppy bellies to her.

Maybe it was the dum dums you brought back from America to give them as a treat for being a good patient.

"That's it!" You slapped your hands on your desk, throwing the muddled papers scatted across the floor as you swiped your arms across the desk.

All of the papers were useless, all thanks to that fucking printer.

Stomping out of your little office, you made your way through the hallway and into the main living space for the team.

"I need a dog!" You yell, catching everyone in the space's attention.

"What?" One of the men ask.

You promptly ignore him, scanning the room and walking- angrily - might you add to find the perfect scary dog.

"A big- scary fucking dog!" You flail your arms in the air.

And your eyes landed on him.

Oh.

He'd do.

He'd do just fine.

"König." You call out, sickly sweet.

He was already staring at you, giving you a cautious glance.

"Did you fight an octopus, doctor?" He asks.

His accent, it was thick.

Just like the rest of him, you suppose.

Music to your ears.

"Would you please accompany me to Doctor Dud?"

He stands, lifting his body to its natural heigh, towering above you.

Perfect.

"Is everything alright?"

"I just need you... to be my big scary dog." You smile.

That smile could make him do horrible things.

"Uh...?" He asks, confused.

"Be intimidating. Be my persuasion, can you do that for me? Please König?" You bat your eyelashes- not too much. A subtle blink or so.

His name falling off your lips.

He had to catch himself for falling forward as he zoned out, looking down at you as you so sweetly begged for his presence.

"Of course." He nodded.

"Great!" You grinned, that evil toothy Cheshire smile.

Pulling him along- not this his long stride took up two of yours- you stood outside of Dud's office. Knocking on the door twice, you pushed the door open and made eye contact with him.

He never really took the time to work with the special teams.

They were a little rowdy for him.

"What do I owe the pleasure....." His voice trailed off, looking up and meeting the narrow, deadly gaze of König.

"Oh, I think the printer is on the fritz again!" You laughed lightly, innocently.

Oh, how evil.

"... I can see that." He said.

"I think it would be best if I just got the new printer." You said, tilting your head to the side. "You see, König was in my office but he can't go about his day until his paperwork gets finished!" You laughed.

"Well... I don't think a new one is in the cards right now-"

"Oh no!" You fake pouted. "I'd hate to cause your mission to delay König." She glances up at him.

His eyes were fixed on Dud.

His presence loomed.

It was as if he sucked the heat from the room, leaving the air in a suffocating freeze.

"Oh- well-" Dud stammers.

"We wouldn't want to cause any inconveniences to König here, would we?" You ask innocently.

Dud swears that a red glint flashes in König's eyes.

"Of course not!" He all but heaves out, sweat collecting on his brow.

"So, new printer?" You ask happily.

"I'll have it brought down right away."

"Great!" You smile, turn, and quickly walk out of the door.

König doesn't move, opting to leave an impression by standing there in silence a few seconds longer, staring into his soul.

"König!" You call.

His head snaps back, releasing him from his trance. He spins on his heel and quickly exits the room, tailing you.

Man, maybe next you could get new linens!

[stuffeddeer]

beast!dazai is our silly guy but he’s sadder :( i’d like to barge in his office while he’s working to put hairclips in his hair so he will be slightly less sad :)

The large and heavy doors leading to the boss’s office slowly creaked open. Dazai looked up with a harsh glare, about to tell off whoever just entered without knocking.

“Osamu!” You sprinted across the long office, hands clutching a small bag to your chest as your feet thudded against the long, regal carpet decorating his floor.

His glare fell, a smile taking its place as he stood up from his desk, widely spreading his arms out. “Hey— “

All of the air in his lungs is forced out as you run right into him, his arms wrapping around your frame as you both fell to the floor. Giggles emerged from your lips that brought a serene smile to the Port Mafia Boss's face, still holding you to him as you both lie on the ground.

"Okay, okay — get up! I come bearing gifts!"

Dazai chuckles at your words, arms falling lax around your frame so you can squirm out of his hold and stand up. "Gifts, hm?" He follows suit, moving to sit back on his desk chair. 

"Well, not gifts, really. I lied! ..Maybe. Sit down, though,"

"I'm already seated— "

"and get to work!" You set your bag on the corner of his desk, waiting for him to fall back into his paperwork and strategizing.

A sigh pulls from his chest, shoulders slumping as he decides to follow your orders. He'd love to focus all of his attention on you, asking about your day and why you're here so early, what you've had to eat and if anyone was mean on your way up (absolutely not, not after that one guy... what was his name? No one's heard from him since) — but Dazai knew that once you were set on something, there was little he could do to change your mind. You clearly had an agenda with your visit, something nestled into your small bag you didn't want to tell him about just yet.

Thankfully, he didn't have to wait long to find out.

Small, plastic butterfly clips. Three of them, in differing pastel colors, were clipped into his dark hair. He paused only for a moment before remembering your words and focusing on his work. Next were chunky pink barrettes, followed by a bunny clip resting on the side of his head. You brought out small bows of various patterns and colors, either tied into his hair or clipped in along with the rest.

A few more butterfly clips spilled out of your bag and Dazai could no longer contain the giggle he'd been trying to swallow since you started. "Is this your gift to me? Decorating my hair?"

You pinned a flower clip onto his coat with a playful grin.

"Ah, my mistake. Decorating me."

You nodded and pulled a few colorful paperclips from your bag as well, setting them on his desk. "You work so hard... I just wanted to add some color to your day," you shrug sheepishly. "I was gonna bring some of my cute pens, too, but I thought those might go unused. It's one thing to get all dolled up in private, but I thought you might not want reports written in purple ink."

Dazai knows you put a lot of thought into this, even if you're playing it off like it's no big deal. You wanted to make him happy without going too overboard — something small that wouldn't impede on his work.

His hands grabbed your waist and, in one sudden movement, he stood up and brought you into a hug. No words were shared, just a small moment of affection that would definitely help him get through the day so he could finally come home to you.

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: instructor!mav, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, angst if you squint?, age gap, office sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetration, cockwarming

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It takes Maverick about a minute to notice you standing in the doorway to his office. He’s swamped with paperwork, his pen nearly running out of ink at the scrabbling he’s been doing the past couple of hours. It seems you’d both ended up with irritable days, hence the reason you found yourself here in the first place.

It was late, thank God, and no one was really around anymore and you really didn’t feel like leaving base and spending the rest of the evening sulking alone at home. You knew that Captain Mitchell was staying in late, knew that if you didn’t wander in to see him, you might not see him at all over the next couple of days.

It was a bad habit he had. He gave you too much space. 

“Lieutenant,” he greets you now, a small smile curving the end of his mouth at the sight of you.

You ignore his propriety, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. You try to match his smile. “Hi, Mav.”

He immediately drops the act. Eyes darting from you to the closed door, he asks in a hushed voice, “What are you doing?” 

You approach his desk, your failed smile replaced by a frown. You want to hug him. You want him to hug you, you mean. To make it all better. You’re not sure how to ask for that, though.

“Just wanted to see you,” you say instead, curious hands reaching for the objects on his desk. 

He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes each object from your hands, placing them back in their spot as you move them. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks a little at the rejection, and he seems to notice the disappointment cross your face. 

“Come here,” he says then, beckoning you over with a single nod.

You step behind the desk and into his space, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. It’s risky; you didn’t lock the door and the blinds aren’t fully shut, but the kiss lasts maybe two seconds. It’s fine.

Mav smiles and looks up at you with a soft glint in his eyes, the one that reads I’ll see you soon, okay? It’s the look he gives you every time he sneaks out of your house, or drops you off. You’ve started to dread it. There’s so much uncertainty that comes with it. Every single time you see him after that affectionate look, he’s just your instructor again. The affection is gone and you’re never sure when it’ll return. It doesn’t matter how much you ache for him. 

Boy, how badly you ache for him now. A kiss is never enough.

You’re almost going to swallow your pride and leave his office, seemingly satisfied with the one little kiss, until your eyes land on his lap. Then at his paperwork, then at the door.

He cocks an eyebrow, curious.

Fuck. You slowly stride over to the door, battling with your choices, but decide you have no intention of leaving. 

“Wh–” Maverick sits up straight at the sound of the door locking, and then watches as you move towards the windows to start shutting the blinds all the way. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna try something,” you say confidently, like he already gave you permission.

“Try something?”

“Mhm.” You shut the last set, take a step back to make sure they’re all closed and then turn your attention to him again. “Blinds shut, door locked. I think you’ve left for the day.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He drops his pen instead, tilting his head as he tries to figure out what it is you’re planning.

He sort of gets an idea when he notices your eyes scanning his side of the desk.

“Baby, I do have a lot of work to do.”

You smile. “And if I promise you won’t get your hands dirty? At all?”

Mav chuckles, shakes his head like it’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard. It might be, you think, but it’s something you can pull off. The door is locked, after all.

“I think we’d be really stupid if we tried,” he admits, though his smile doesn’t falter.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reiterate. “I just want to sit there. You can continue working.”

It’s like he opens his mouth to protest again, but then his lips press together instead, and he beckons you toward him with a nod like before.

Excitement fills you as he scoots his chair back to grant you access.

It’s hard to get on your knees in the cramped space underneath the desk, so you have to urge Mav to move his chair back with a gentle push to his legs. He complies, does his best to make as much room for you as he can. You find that you’re sort of shaky when your fingers pry at the button on his jeans, so he helps you with that, too. The position is slightly ridiculous, the chair a little higher than it should be, so you end up on your haunches when you pull his cock out of his briefs, and then sort of yank his garments down with your other hand for easier access. 

His eyes are still nervously peering at the closed blinds, making sure there aren’t any shapes or sounds coming from behind them, but you ease his worries when you take his shaft into your mouth. There’s no time to prolong this, so you get right to it; you take him in as much as you can, using a hand to stroke him at the same time. His knuckles are white from gripping the arms of his chair as he hardens in your mouth. Stifled groans leave his lips, filthy wet ones coming from yours. 

He throws his head back in silent satisfaction when you swirl your tongue around the tip, and accidentally groans out loud when you dip your head and trace your tongue down, and then back up his frenulum.

The noise he makes reminds you that you’re not supposed to make him cum here, that this is something different, and you pull back after a minute or so. Maverick is biting down hard on his lip, watches as you stand up off your haunches and immediately work your pants off. He shifts in his seat, positions himself as best he can for you.

With your pants completely off and kicked aside, you grab onto his shoulders and mount yourself atop his lap. Hovering above him, you reach down to grab him and line yourself up with him the best you can; usually he would do that for you but you did promise he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. 

“No moving,” you prompt, exhaling softly at the feel of his tip against your slit.

You whimper at the stretch—it stings just a little from lack of foreplay—but gradually sink onto him little by little. You let your body accommodate him, feel yourself growing wetter around him before you sink any lower. He tenses up, tries to minimize his reaction by gritting his teeth. The long groan that leaves his mouth is inevitable when you fully slip onto his lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. Christ, this is gonna be harder than you thought.

He seems to think so too, as his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Sweetheart, I don’t—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he groans.

“Just get back to work,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hands leave your waist to resume his task, but his breathing remains heavy near your ear. You relax into him, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. You’ve got your hug. This is all you wanted today.

Maverick scoots his chair forward as best he can, picks up his pen and shuffles through his papers. 

You try not to clench around him, a very difficult problem when he scoots forward slightly a second time, his balls rubbing up into your clit. You try to focus on something else, on his scent, past him at the frames on the wall, on the bits of light coming in through the blinds.

A minute passes.

Two minutes pass.

Three, and Mav still hasn’t touched pen to paper yet, clearly dazed by the situation. His eyes skim over the words he’s already written instead, trying to give his brain an idea on where to get started again. 

He wants to move very badly. It’s a terrible itch he needs to scratch.

He starts to think that this is maybe a form of torture. You try not to think much of it, try to pretend this is the hug you were here for, and it sort of works. Sort of. His cock prods at a very delicious spot inside you the more he begins to shift his hips, and it becomes harder and harder to stay still.

It’s when you hear his pen drop and roll across the desk that you realize Maverick is not so fond of your idea. Get back to work how, he must be thinking, and God, you hope he’s not frustrated that this whole ordeal probably just set him back. 

If he is, he doesn’t show it, instead wrapping his arms around you and inadvertently rolling his hips underneath you. You gasp, taken by sudden surprise, clasping a hand over your mouth when his hips jerk a second time.

“Mav,” you whisper. “I said—fuck, I said no moving.”

He scoffs, bows his head to lazily kiss at your collarbone. “You’re killing me. I’ll never go back to work like this.”

You bite back a moan. “I promised you wouldn’t get your hands dirty. I just wanted to sit he–”

He shuts you up with a sharp, fully intended snap of his hips. His arms drop to cup the bottom of your thighs, and neither of you care anymore after the first stroke. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room and it’s hard not to make any additional noise, suppressing your moans into little whines instead. Maverick starts fucking into you as if it were the first time, as if he’d never felt something so good before. 

Neither of you last very long.

Maverick’s thrusts get sloppy when you’re both seconds away, his tiring pace beginning to stumble. He’s smart enough to take you in for a deep kiss when you both cum at the same time, your quiet, high-pitched noises trapped in between your mouths. He continues kissing you through your unplanned orgasm, tongue licking against yours.

When he pulls back, you’re both panting heavily, savoring the glow. 

He helps you off of him eventually. Your legs are a little sore and shaky, and you clumsily stumble back against his desk. Maverick’s good reflexes prevent your fall, an arm around your waist, and you avoid landing on his messy stack of paperwork. You can’t help but snicker at how absurd this really was.

Maverick, on the other hand, has a smirk on his face at the sight of you propped over his desk.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Diavolo - "Sit In"

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

In which a certain prince of the Devildom is once again swamped with work, but luckily his little human lover has come to his rescue. Or; In which Prince Diavolo has his darling boyfriend [Name] warm his lap while he slaves away on his paperwork.

                                                                                                   

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

The maroon-haired demon prince sighs gloomily as he slumps against his document-cluttered desk. He had been working for what felt like an eternity. Truthfully, it had only really been an hour or two, but it felt like he had been sitting there forever; it was just so boring! He could be hanging out with his boyfriend right now, doing whatever it is that his cute little human felt like doing; but no Barbatos made him work.

“Ugh…”  

Diavolo groans; fidgeting with the fountain pen in his hands as he repeatedly taps on the desk; unknowingly creating a small pool of ink.

The poor demon desperately wants to leave the hellscape he's found himself in, but when he lifts his head to look at his butler, the man only smiles and shakes his head; gesturing with his hands to continue his work.

Abruptly; a knock sounded from behind the door. Diavolo shot upright in his chair; a relieved grin stretching across his lips. The door opens to reveal the very person he was just daydreaming about; his darling human lover: [Name].

The human boy peeks his head out from the partially opened door and looks from the seated demon to the butler who stands off to the side and back again. He raises a brow,–

“Oh. Are you busy right now, Dia?”  

The h/c-ette queries softly; ready to get out of the busy man's hair as soon as he's told to.

Barbatos eyes his lord in suspicion, knowing the prince will drop whatever he's doing without a thought if it means he can attend to his lover's needs. The black-to-teal-haired man clears his throat; garnering the attention of the intruding Human Male.

“Unfortunately; his majesty is very bus—”  

The poor steward was quickly cut off by his lord.

“Not at all! Well— actually I do have a few more papers to sign, but those can be done later! Now, what can I do for you, my treasure?”  

Diavolo interrupts; giving his darling a dazzling boyish grin as he does so.

[Name] giggles at the prince's antics; giving the butler an apologetic smile before entering the room and gently closing the door behind him. Traipsing quickly over to the burly demon's desk; the human happily simpered. He carefully planted his hands on the desktop, fingers splayed, as he leaned forward just a bit.

“Are you sure you're not busy? I wouldn't want to keep you from your work. You know if you finish everything now, you'll have more free time later.”  

The maroon-haired man chuckled at their concern; finding it cute that his little mortal lover was concerned about him. He scoots his chair back and away from his desk before patting his lap a few times, gesturing for them to have a seat. They, of course, comply; unceremoniously plopping their bottom onto the tops of his thick muscled thighs.

The demon wraps his arm around their waist; picking up his discarded pen and beginning to fill out the previously neglected paperwork. He chuckles softly as he feels you snuggle your head into his chest; leading him to give a gentle but affectionate squeeze to their soft thigh.

Diavolo lets out a pleased sigh; perhaps he should have you sit in his office while he works more often. Surely Barbatos wouldn't disagree, right?

👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑•♡•👑

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

This work was made by the spite garnered from this lovely little ask I received from a mystery anon, right here.

[chaotic-iguana]

Sleep

Summary: Reader suffers from lack of sleep, caused by a recent event. As she continues to overwork herself, she reaches her breaking point with near disastrous results. Starring concerned!steve murphy, chaotic idiot!steve murphy and clueless!reader. javi has my fucking heart though.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no use of y/n though)

Rating: M

Wordcount: 2.2k 

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, sort of a panic attack, mild MILD allusions to someone being creepy (not javi though), mild flirting, humour, lots of swearing sorry

this is my first fic - let me know your thoughts! check me out on ao3

masterlist.

“I swear to fucking god Murphy, if you don’t stop bouncing your leg against the table, I’m slamming your head right into it” is the gospel that flows out of your mouth at 7 am on a Monday morning. Feels like it’s gonna be a great week.

“The hell did I do? You’d think Connie’s cookies would be enough to get you animals off my back, but no, first sign of any damn fire an’ the first person you’d throw in?” Steve huffs. “Murphy”, he repeats mockingly. You scoff and roll your eyes at him, clenching and unclenching your fists in an attempt to talk yourself down from strangling the idiot situated two feet to your left before turning back to the paperwork in front of you. The one-foot-tall, monster stack of paperwork. Right. In. Front. Of. You. And would the golden boys ever do it themselves? If they ever got a moment’s relief from jacking each other off during missions (or however the hell they manage to fumble practically every single little op), maybe. But most of the time, you were stuck with it. Because god forbid the two princesses you were partnered with ever had to so much as lift a pen themselves. Hell would freeze over.

And it isn’t like you mind. At all, really. Half your job is the paperwork, and you’re happy to get it in order - if only to avoid Noonan’s wrath. Besides, what good is an agent if they can’t do their fucking job? In its entirety; not the half-assed shit most of the men did around the embassy. But a single glimpse of yourself in the mirror while rushing to leave the house revealed that these past few weeks of skipping lunch breaks, going home late, and taking files home to work on have been catching up with you - sunken, bloodshot eyes, cracked lips, and bruises smudged under your eyes now, perpetually, since the nightmares had started. Anything to keep you busy, right?

Another aggravating side effect of the amount of work you had taken on apart from the usual? The constant irritation. Marlene’s new nails, Katie’s suspicious last lay, the stupid fucking demon alarm clock that never quite managed to wake you up, the busted tire, the broken coffee machine, Dave from accounting’s downright idiotic whistling, your pen running out of ink, and finally - Murphy’s bouncing knee banging the table every fucking millisecond, practically in tune with the pounding ache beginning to form between your brows. If you were a better person, you’d let these things go. Such is life, right? But since the lack of sleep, the increased workload and general mishappenings had already created this beautiful trifecta of shit just to screw you over, better people could go fuck themselves. As could Murphy. “Don’t use your wife’s cooking as an excuse. I’m telling you, make another sound and die.” you spit out, whirling in your chair because the incessant fucking banging still hasn’t stopped - just in time to catch Peña sauntering in, already smirking.

“Already nailing Murphy’s balls, cariño? Careful, I’ll fall in love, baby.” You can hear the laughter in his crooning voice as he throws it over his shoulder - but you don’t care - can’t care, beyond the spots that seem to be forming at the edges of your vision. Were your fingers always a bit tingly? Or is that a new development, like your tongue suddenly feeling thick and heavy in your mouth, like you’re choking on it? But even though your thoughts feel slow and weighed down by molasses, rage sparks brighter in your mind as Peña’s flirty nicknames and bullshit teasing registers. You push away from your desk, and shoot up from the chair, striding towards the door to get some air - or you try to - because before you know it, your vision is blinded by white and you’re breathing quick, shallow breaths as you lay on the ground trying to figure out what the fuck is happening. Distantly, you can hear someone calling your name but it sounds so far away you barely even register it. Hands wrap around your wrist, your head, attempting to stabilize you, to ground you, as you flail wildly in a panic. A low hum begins to fill your senses, forming words that sound to fuzzy to understand or care about right now, but you lean into it, something in your being telling you it’s safe.

When your sight clears, you’re curled up on the on the floor trembling. Shaking, like a scared fucking child, while Peña kneels to hold you to his chest, repeating the same few phrases over and over: “You’re okay, it’s okay hermosa. You’re safe. Safe. No ones gonna hurt you, it’s over now, okay?” as Murphy stands next to him, watching with panic and a hint of sympathy in his gaze. You scramble away from them both, panting, nearly slipping in your effort to get to your feet. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay, pretty. You’re okay” Peña repeats his assurances with his hands held out, palms facing you, as you stand on wobbling knees, wiping at your face.

“‘M fine” is all you whisper to them hoarsely before ducking your head and rushing out of the pathetically cramped room you three work in. You can hear footsteps behind you, but can’t find it in you to turn around - not even at the panicked sounds of your name being called by a familiar voice. You’re making a scene, you know it, but you don’t care. It’s all too much, and you’re too far gone. Reaching the parking lot, you struggle to unlock your car as your trembling fingers drop the keys twice. Swearing, you resolve and pick them up again, pressing them and reaching for the door. But just before your fingers find the handle another hand - much, much larger than yours - splays out on the window to stop you, just as Peña’s signature bedhead comes into view. He looks at you with wide, concerned eyes, his mouth tucked low at the corners, like he’s disappointed. You want to melt, you do, because the melting pot of emotions you have for him make you preen at his worry - but your usual defense mechanisms humble you. And so you sharpen your claws, flash your fangs, and the hackles raise again, leaving a “What, Peña?” to come tumbling out in a tone so sharp it makes you flinch. HIs frown just deepens as his gaze rakes over your form frantically, as if checking for injury. He says nothing, pursing his lips further before snatching your wrist and tugging you behind him as he stalks to his car, opening the side door. You raise a brow at him, and he counters by jerking his head towards the car, scowling slightly. You get in, slightly confused, and wait for him to walk around and get into the drivers seat. “What the fuck, Peña? I just fainted, I’m not senile. And I don’t give a shit how mad you are, you can’t just-just drag me to your car and f-force me to get in. The fuck are you playing at?” you begin to ramble, fury somehow still rising at a dizzying speed. Peña doesn’t respond, just starts driving while looking straight ahead while you continue fumbling over a panicked rant so pathetic it sounds nonsensical to your own ears. “…And what? You just enjoy calling me s-stupid nicknames? You think it’s cute to flirt with me while I’m- while I pass out?” This one makes his nostrils flare, eyes darkening a bit while his jaw tightens just for a second before letting go. You pause for a second, getting your breath while your hands still shake in your lap. “I’m fine, it’s fine. Can I just go home please? I’ve already done the month’s paperwork for all the ops we have planned, and you can just give me the rest post-op. I’m just a bit under the weather, I just need to lie down for a bit.” you start trying to reason, but the stubborn ass just keeps driving, and alarm starts bubbling in your chest again. You look down to your lap while you fiddle with your thumbs, willing to control the irrational fear yelling at you that something’s wrong every second Peña chooses to stay silent.

“Think I was flirting with you while you passed out? Y’think I don’t see it, you working yourself to the fucking bone? Think I can’t see how you’ve stopped eating, honey? Stopped laughing like you used to? Think I don’t know how late you’ve starting going home? As ‘f I’ll ever stop waitin’ for ya to clock out first so I know you’re home okay, baby. You gotta tell me what’s wrong - this is eatin’ you up.“

Peña’s tone softens, but his harsh whisper makes you turn your head to look at him. He sounds so…tortured, as if he’s the one suffering. He glances your way, locking eyes with you for a second before turning his head back to the road. You sit there and practically gape at him, your jaw slack as your head whirls. Peña knows? No, wait, he waits? For you to go home so you’re safe? He cares? What the fuck? Confused, all that comes out of your mouth is a mighty elegant open-mouthed “huh?” before you blink at him, waiting for him to continue.

“You gotta know by now, sweetheart. Gotta see how I’ve been lookin’ at you. You’re the smartest fuckin’ agent I’ve seen, with the balls to take down men I’d sweat to be ‘n the same room with. You swear like a sailor, an’ make me laugh till I’m chokin’ on my own damn cigarette. Tell me what’s hurtin’ you, honey. I can’t promise I’ll fix it, but I can swear to you I’ll damn well try my best.” He responds, turning to hold your gaze as his own eyes widen, and his brows turn down. Puppy eyes, you think. 

Your brain has gone from hazy to too fucking clear in a matter of five minutes, and now it feels like your thoughts are gonna come ripping out of your head. So you just blink at him, again, before reaching an unsteady hand out to cup his cheek. “I’m okay, I swear. Just-you remember that deal I had to cut last month? With the sicario? For intel on that lab?” Peña nods, and you continue. “Fucker led me to a dead end. Ambushed me. O-only got out ‘cause his gun jammed, and his child-soldier ran away. I just-this is so fucking dumb I’ve been in worse but- I can’t get it out of my head. The shit he said to me, the way he looked at me, t-touched me. I should be dead or worse, Peña. And I nearly was.“ you look down again, ashamed of the truth that’s spilling out of your mouth. It’s so small, so weak, you just want to fold into yourself and never come out. Your voice wobbles towards the end, tears filling your eyes as you turn your head away from the man you’ve wanted for so long to save whatever dignity you still have left. “‘N I can’t sleep anymore. Just see- or feel him every time. So thought I’d work for a bit. Clearly didn’t fucking work out, though.” small hiccups have started to punctuate your words, testament to the tears now flowing down your cheeks. Peña pulls up to an unfamiliar building and turns to you.

“‘S Javi, honey. Look at me, pretty baby.” He cradles your chin between his thumb and his forefinger to turn your head towards him. “None of that was stupid, okay? Come lie down at my place. I’ll sit in a damn chair next to you and fight him away if he comes in your dreams, sweetheart, okay? Nothin’ to be ‘fraid of. Never letting any fuckers near you again.” Javi leans in to brush a kiss to your forehead before stepping out of the car and hooking his index and middle finger to beckon you too. You step out of the truck and towards him, smiling while swiping at your face. “Didn’t know this was what the girls meant every time they bragged about sleeping with you” you snark softly, with a teasing grin on your face as you reach him. Javi rolls his eyes playfully before unlocking the door.

“Ain’t gotta do no sleepin’ you don’t want to, honey. You’re here to get some rest. Be a good girl and sleep f’me, and I’ll keep you up for as long as you like after,” he  throws over his shoulder with a matching grin and a wink.

[billthedrake]

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

[amaiaqt]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤミㅤtuck you inㅤ⋆ ｡˚ㅤ♡ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤthe night you didn't sleep, waiting for them ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤmodern heizou, xiao, lisa, ningguang !

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤshikanoin heizou !ㅤ

he didn't mean to stay at his office so late, he was just finishing up some paperwork, begrudgingly, of course. for if he didn't have it all organized in separate folders by morning, his boss will surely not leave him with a moment of peace tomorrow

he huffed, reading through the last page of one document. he figured you were already asleep by now, as he tried to call you an hour ago so you'd know he'll be coming home late, but you didn't answer. surely you'll understand when he explains himself at the door when he arrives later

a ringing from his cellphone interrupted his thoughts. he picked it up to answer while setting the paper in his hand on top of the thin stack in the corner of his desk, bringing the phone to his ear and speaking on auto-pilot

"shikanoin heizou answering, may i ask who's calling ? at such a late hour.." he quietly mumbled the last part to himself, 'please don't be another inquiry' he prayed at the thought.

"zou ?" it was your voice, he didn't need to take a second for it to click in his mind. "ah, [name], why are you calling so late, my dear ?" he asked, his voice immediately getting soft and developed an almost concerned tone. he could hear you shifting in the sheets on your side of the call, you were definitely in bed, he figured. so you probably were asleep when he called, were because now you were awake

"i didn't hear the phone ring when you called, sorry.." you spoke softly, sounding almost tired or groggy. he paid no mind to it, figuring you just woke up. "it's fine dear, i called to say i was gonna come home late, then i figured you were asleep" he explained, signing another paper then adding it to a separate stack on his desk. "i haven't slept, i was downstairs waiting for you and left the phone in the bedroom."

come again ? you haven't slept ? you were waiting for him ?

he paused, subconsciously lifting the tip of his pen away from the paper he was about to fill out to not let the ink leave an obnoxious stain. "what do you mean, you haven't slept ?" heizou didn't want to sound upset, but it was very obvious in his tone and the way you seemed to pause on your end of the call. "i..." you hesitated, he could tell, "i just.. haven't slept ?" he took a deep breathe and exhaled

"i have two papers left to fill out, then i'll put them away in their folders so i can leave them on my bosses desk. i'll be home as soon as i can, dear, mwamwa !" he ended the call when you uttered a rushed 'alright' and rushed to finish his work so he can get home as soon as possible

he didn't want you to stay up any later, it wasn't good for you

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤalatus xiao !ㅤ

he was already on his way home, driving down the practically empty freeway with the playlist you made for him playing on the car's radio. the second he got off his shift, he immediately rushed to his car to get home as soon as possible. he had no data, he couldn't text you to say he'd be coming home late, so he just planned to get home as soon as possible

but to his dismay, it was already late at night, late enough for you to scold him once you open the door for him. he was focused on the road, maybe a little over the speed limit, but there was no one else around it should be fine. he slowed down when the ringing from his phone sounded on the radio of the car because of the bluetooth connection. he pulled up on the side of the freeway and reached for his phone, turning off bluetooth to answer properly. it was you calling, oh archons

"darling, i'm on my way home." he speaks softly, gazing at the stars in the through his window. "it's so late.. why are you so late ?" he sighed at the question, your tone held exhaustion, but he didn't miss the slight sadness laced in it. "i apologize darling, my shift dragged on later than i was anticipating and i couldn't text you." he listened to you humming from your side, "i'm hoping you've slept ?" he questioned, seeing that it was nearly the middle of the night. "ah.." you hesitated, and he raised his brow at this. "why the hesitation ?"

"well, i did try to sleep, at least." "least." he retaliated. "i was waiting for you !" you explained, and to that, he paused. "so you haven't slept, at all ?" he asked slowly, emphasizing on 'at all'. "waiting for you." you added in your defense.

he sighed deeply, shaking his head in disapproval. "darling, it's nearly midnight, why are you up waiting for me ?" he asked, his tone now laced with guilt that he knows shouldn't be there, but he can't shake away. "i was worried, and i can't sleep without you beside me, after all." he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. "then, how about this ?"

he sat up in his seat, getting ready to keep driving, "count the stars until i get home." "why ?" "to keep you entertained, i'll be there in a bit, i promise." "alright, drive safely !"

and with that, the call ended, and his foot stepped on the acceleration

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤlisa minci !ㅤ

oh how she hated these nights, despite how rare they were. these nights that she had to stay at the library late to organize the newly arrived books by order on the shelves. she was almost finished, just one shelf left and she can go home and rest in your arms while you massage her head to lull her to sleep. she had already allowed the rest of her staff to get off shift after helping her finish half of the task

as she climbed down the ladder, she hummed her favorite melody to provide herself some company through sound. she moved the box to the other side of the shelf and picked up the last two books from it, placing them in their orderly places

and with that, she could finally go home

she folded the box and put it under her desk, heaving a breathe of relief and exhaustion. she wanted a moment before heading out, only to be interrupted by a call from her cellphone. archons be thankful it was you

"sweetie~! i was just about to head out of the library, why are you calling so late, hm ?" she questioned, not even masking her excitement to hear your voice already. "just about.. " you paused, yawning — she found it adorable. "why did you have to stay back so late ?"

"we received new books that needed to be organized in their respective sections, so sorry i couldn't call earlier sweetheart." she sighed, leaning back in her chair. "ahh, so that's why.. it's alright, you don't even need to apologize." you were shifting from your side of the call. "why are you calling so late, were you missing me sweetie ?" she asked, adding the last question as a tease, wanting to hear you flustered on call. "i was, actually." and at your admission, it backfired, and now she was the one flustered. "ah, well.." she got cut off when you started speaking again

"i actually haven't slept, that's why i'm yawning so much. i've been waiting for you in the living room for two hours now.." you admitted almost nonchalantly, but this made lisa recoil in her chair

"you've been waiting.. for two hours ?" lisa's tone is almost guilty, but come on. you, her sweetheart, who was equally tired all day, has stayed up waiting for her for two hours ?

you simply hummed in response to her question. "oh sweetheart.." she shakes her head and gets up from her chair, swiftly grabbing her bag and car keys. "i won't let you wait any longer, i'll be there in a few minutes sweetie !"

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ｡ﾟ ⊹ㅤningguang !ㅤ

running an independent business meant sleepless nights were normal to ningguang, but if she could choose a life where all her time could be dedicated to you without any financial consequences, she would without any hesitation. but to support both you and herself, and provide the life she wants for the two of you, she needs these sacrifices. besides, when she's done enough to never worry about buying you the most expensive things for simple dates, it'll be worth it in her eyes

she stapled the last two documents of the night before putting them away in their folders, pinning them under an organizer at the corner of her desk as she took out her cellphone to try and call you

and a smile pulled her lips up when you answered almost immediately. but it did make her wonder, you were definitely awake prior to her calling, but why so late ?

"ning ?" your voice sounded like a mix of expectance and excitement. "honey," her voice is melodious as she speaks barely above a whisper, "i'm so glad you answered, i was just about to close up the office. however," ningguang paused as she stood up from her chair, picking up her bag and pushing her chair back in place against her desk. you hummed for her to continue, "it seems you were already awake before i called, am i correct ?" the nervous chuckle you let out was enough to confirm her assumption. "why were you awake so late ?" she questioned

she kept the phone to her ear as she walked out of her office, turning off the lights and locking the door behind her. she waved to one of her staff to call her driver for her as she continued her trip to the exit of the building. she stepped into an elevator as you started to explain. "i've been waiting for you, and watching t.v. in the living room, but mostly waiting for you !" ningguang shook her head, glancing at the watch on her wrist, 11:47 p.m.

"it's so late, nearly midnight, you've really been waiting ?" concern is evident in her tone as she spoke, the tap of her heels against the marble flooring as she headed to the exit was all she focused on as you paused on your end of the call

"of course i have, i was worried." you spoke, and she frowned at the noticeable hint of guilt in your voice. a black car pulled up in front of her and she got into the backseat, waving to her driver in acknowledgement. the vehicle started moving, yet ningguang was still thinking about her words

she was touched that you were waiting for her, but haven't you learned from the countless hour-long lectures she'd put you through about how you should always sleep at an earlier hour ?

ningguang sighed, "honey," you hummed, "i do hope you're in bed by the time i get home." she spoke sternly, but she made sure she didn't sound all that strict and kept that soft tone lingering in her voice. "but i can't sleep without you here !" you complained, and ningguang's lips curled into another endeared smile. "then wait for me in bed, simple."

she smiled as you finally gave in to her request and ended the call with a kiss

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ© amaiaqt, 2023 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤdo not plagiarize !

[14buddy22]

How You Get The Girl

Part 1: You’re Losing Me / Masterlist

AARON HOTCHNER REDEMPTION ARC WC: 2.9K

Based off “How You Get the Girl” by T.Swifttttt

6 months.

That’s how long you’ve been without Aaron and Jack in your life. It was the worst. You knew he was happier without you. You weren’t holding him back anymore.

But you weren’t happy. You thought you would be happy without Aaron and Jack. But losing them was the worst thing to happen to you. You gave Aaron the ultimatum because you wanted to be happy, you wanted him to be happy, but it came back to hurt you.

The few dates you went on with the owner of the bar were wonderful, but he just wasn’t Aaron. Everything the guy did, you only thought about how Aaron would’ve done it. When you told him you weren’t ready for a relationship, he understood. He just asked that you told Aaron how you felt.

But you couldn’t. How could you just “waltz” into Aaron and Jack’s life again. Jack could never forgive you. You had been in his life for almost 4 years, and you left. You were a mom to him and you left him.

You had seen him one time, on the playground. You were going to walk over and say hi but then you saw Rossi and Aaron and decided to go against it. You couldn’t just show back up in their lives, especially after leaving them.

You missed Jack dearly. He was just a child. You always wanted to be a mom. Being a mom to him for 3 and a half years was the best thing ever. You and him had a special bond, and you were a complete asshole because you let your “happiness” get in the way of that. You were never happy after you lost Aaron and Jack.

While you missed the early morning breakfasts, the spontaneous dance sessions, the rainy movie days, and everything else with Jack, you’ll never forgive yourself for not staying, for not fighting harder for you and Aaron. Something had to give in the relationship, you had just wished that it wasn’t you.

You wished you had given Aaron a different ultimatum. Maybe you should have tried and compromised. But you didn’t, that’s on you. This pain your dealing with is going to take forever to get over. Everytime you see a father and son in the store or on the street, you could only think about Aaron and Jack. Everytime you went shopping, you couldn’t help but go down the office supply aisle and look for the refillable ink for Aaron’s pens. But you could never buy them, you didn’t have Aaron in your life.

Every little thing reminded you of those two boys in your life. You were so much happier with Aaorn and Jack in your life. Aaron was trying, yes there were the missed dates and the broken promises, but you’d rather have the missed dates and broken promises all over again than feel the way you do now.

Alone, Upset, Miserable.

You had still been living with Penelope, both of you decided that it was the best living arrangement. You tried to move out but she insisted you stayed. She had a personal chef, especially because she was not good at cooking, she had a gossip buddy, and you two got to remain friends, even though you and Aaron were broken up.

Penelope filled the voids of your emptiness. She did everything she could to make you happy. She was home every night with you. While she worked for the BAU, she very rarely got to travel, but, you think that after you explained to Aaron why you were breaking up with him, he made her stay back even more, especially when he found out you were living with her.

**** Earlier that day ****

Penelope had barged into Aaron’s office. Not caring what he was doing. He looked up from his paperwork and he said, “Penelope? What’s the problem?”

“Sir, I need to be honest with you. You need to go after Y/n. You love her? Don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I want her to be happy. That’s my number one priority. She was not happy with me, so, I did what was reasonable. I let her go. I will always love her, but I will always want her to be happy. Even if that’s not with me.”

“But, sir, it is with you! She still loves you. Yes, she’s gone out on a few dates with that guy but they never had sex yet! That’s a sign she still loves you.”

Aaron rolled his eyes and shook his head. He couldn’t believe he was listening to this. As he shook his head, he looked down at the pen in his hand. His heart stopped for a brief moment. These were only the pens he had kept in his home office. He doesn’t know how they got here.

“Penelope. I don’t care if she’s had sex with them. I lost her. There’s no coming back from this.”

“Yes there is. Trust me. She still talks about you and Jack. Her room is decorated with pictures that Jack had drawn her. There are framed pictures of you kissing her cheek. She still wants you. She’s not happy. She’s alone. She’s miserable. She needs you. She was happy with you.”

“She left. I lost her. How could she be happy with me. Something had to give, Penelope.”

“She just wants change, Aaron. That’s all she wants. She thinks about what went wrong and we talk about it every single night. She still loves you, Aaron. She just will never come into yours and Jack’s life again because she doesn’t want to cause you two any more pain than you’ve already been through.”

Aaron thought back to what you and him had talked about during your fight. He scoffed and said, “She’s a people pleaser. She’ll suffer just to make others happy. She needs herself to be happy.”

“Aaron. You make her happy. I promise, if you were to ever talk to her again. She’ll take you back. She’s only thought of a million scenarios where you and Jack come back into her life. I promise. If you think about this, think about how you want to change to be in a better relationship the second time, now’s your chance, Aaron. I can’t stand to see her miserable anymore. If you don’t want her in your life, you need to let me know now so I can be honest with her and help her come back to reality that you won’t be in her life anymore.”

Aaron couldn’t stop Garcia fast enough from talking. He needed to get you back. He had a second chance. Well, that’s what she was telling him. When she walked out of his office, he sat there contemplating how he was going to get you back after how he lost you.

It wasn’t long before it was storming, he didn’t realize how bad it was, but if he wanted you back, he needed to do it today.

****

It was storming really bad out. Streets were flooded, some parts of town were out of power, luckily the BAU wasn’t on a case so you were thankful Aaron was home with Jack. Jack still wasn’t a fan of bad storms. He thought they were cool, but he still loved to be cuddled up on a couch or sleep in bed with Aaron. And at one point, he loved to be with you.

Penelope was making popcorn as you two decided to have a movie night. We heard the crack of thunder and it began to downpour even harder. You didn’t realize how hard it was raining until the TV went silent for a split second, the lights flickering.

“Geez, it’s really raining out there. Anybody who is out in this weather right now is insane.”

As you and Penelope got settled in on your respective seats on the couch, she handed you a bowl of popcorn and a napkin.

“Thank you, Penelope. And not just for the popcorn, but everything. From helping me and giving me a place to stay so I don’t have to look for a new apartment, for being my therapist and listening to the problems Aaron and I had, for telling me how he’s doing at work and how Jack’s been doing. I mean it. It’s been 6 months without them, I want him back, but I can’t go back. I gave him the ultimatum, he needed to realize that I was serious. If I run back to him, what does that show? That this whole thing was my fault, especially when I’d go crawling back. I wanted him to realize when I moved out that he lost me and I wanted him back, I never realized that he would actually be better off without me.”

“Oh sweetness, he hasn’t been better off without you. He’s been taking it hard. He’s not the same person he was when he was with you.”

Part of you wanted to break down and cry. You caused his heartbreak, yet all you wanted him was to be happy. You assumed that letting him have the BAU would make him happy, he didn’t have to come home to a fiancé who complained about his broken promises.

“Let’s begin the movie before we’re both sobbing.”

As Penelope found the video, there was a knock on the door. You stood up, immediately making your way to the door and looking through her peep hole. When you looked through you saw Aaron shaking from the rain, he was cold.

You threw open the door, looking at him, he looked handsome, even if he was soaked from the rain, he looked beautiful. But that’s not what you cared about.

“Aaron! Are you insane?”

Penelope sent a picture to the BAU (minus Aaron) of Aaron and you at the door and said, “Operation get those two back together is in the final stages.”

“It’s been a long six months and I was too afraid to tell you what I want.”

What was going on? Aaron’s at Penelope’s door. You hadn’t talked to him in 6 months, but he’s here. He must have realized that he had lost you. He had to be holding on to some type of hope or faith to think it’s how he’d get you back.

“Aaron, let’s get you out of that suit, you’re gonna catch a cold. And is Jack home alone? He hates storms, Aaron.”

Aaron didn’t budge. He just grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hall.

“I want you for worse or for better. I would wait forever and ever. I broke your heart, I know that. But I’ll put it back together. Like I said, I would wait forever and ever. I was sitting on our couch the other day, in our sunroom, just remembering how it used to be. How the last good memory I have of us was from that morning 6 months ago. It hurt taking down those pictures of us, me kissing your cheek. Those were my favorite ones that I had framed, because you were so caught off guard in them. They were my favorite pictures because that was always my chance to surprise you.”

You couldn’t help but look at him with the most empathetic eyes you ever had. He must have come to his senses that he lost you, or, got close to losing you forever.

“When you told me that I was losing you, I couldn’t believe. I didn’t want to believe it. I lost my mind when I left you all alone and I never told you why. That’s how it works and that’s how I lost my dream girl. God, I miss you. I miss your scent in the morning. I miss when Jack used to be happy to come into our room, now he won’t even step foot in there. I missed that I had someone to come home, too. Someone who told me I was doing my best job, nothing more could have been done. I miss the one who put me above herself. I’m not saying that to be selfish, but I miss it because the date I went on, she only cared about herself. I compared her to you. No one will ever be you. I want you. I want the girl who notices what my favorite brand of pens are and secretly refills them. I want the girl I can come home too and not be screamed at even though I messed up and should be yelled at. I want you. I want all of you. I know I might have lost you for good. You told me that. I’m willing to compromise and cut back on my hours and if we schedule a date, I’m going to make sure you and I go on that date. Because i saw what you looked like on a date with another guy. I saw how happy you were as a live band was playing. You were dancing in the street and I want to be the one to spin you around. I want to be the one who dances with you when no one else is dancing. I want you for worse or for better. I’ll wait forever and ever just to get you again. I broke your heart, I’ll put it back together. I promise you that. I want to get you back.”

Just as he caught his breath, you stepped forward and kissed him. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled you closer to him. The kiss was 1000 times better than your first kiss. You know Aaron meant every word he just confessed to you right now. That kiss proves he knew he lost you the first time, and he would never lose you again.

“I’m not going to lose you anymore. It’s you and me until the end of time. Those 6 months were hell without you in my life, I never want to live through that again.”

“I love you, Aaron.”

As you pulled him into Penelope’s apartment, he shut the door behind him and he said hello to her. You excused yourself and apologized to Penelope but she stopped you before you could even say anything else.

Closing your door behind you and Aaron, he pushed you back up against the door, kissing you again. You began to take off his wet suit and as you got him stripped out of his clothes, you stopped just as he was in his boxers.

“Who has Jack?”

“Jack is with Jess. He wanted to have a sleepover there. You know, he misses you.”

You pushed him back against the bed and made him sit down. You moved around the room, grabbing a pair of his sweatpants and tshirt that you had stolen and never gave back after the break up.

As Aaron put his sweatpants on, he pulled you onto his lap, kissing you once more.

“6 months was a long time without you. I never want to be without you for that long ever again. Please come home. Jack misses you, I miss you. I still want to marry you. It’s our 4 year anniversary today, in case you forgot.”

“How could I forget?”

You ran your fingers through his soaking wet hair. You took him in. It’s been 6 whole months since you got to be with him. But it’s probably been over a year since you were having an emotional, vulnerable, intimiate moment with him right now.

“Aaron, I love you. If we do this, we get back together, get married. Things have to change. I can’t go through that again. I can’t do the broken promises. I can’t have a baby with you if you won’t help be a parent to them. I want to have a baby with you because I know you’re an amazing father with Jack, but I want our baby to have those moments with you. Maybe even more moments that you missed with Jack. You told me that was your biggest regret in your life, was not being there for the little things. If we’re going to do this, let’s do this right.”

“I told you. I’m going to fix your heart that I broke. I’m going to do everything to change. I’m going to do it the right way. Thank you for bringing me to my senses. Thank you for giving me a second chance, well more like the millionth chance. But thank you.”

As you and him made your ways onto your respective sides of the bed, you got under the covers with him. When he pulled you into his arms, he waited until you were long asleep in his arms before he decided to close his eyes.

He lost you the first time, he sure as hell would never lose you again. Confessing his love, he wanted to get you back. He wanted to get his girl back, and he did. He would forever be grateful for it.

****4 years later****

As you and Aaron celebrated your 3 year wedding anniversary, 8 years of being together, you were sat around the dinner table with Jack and yours and Aaron’s twins. Within 4 years, you and him had your twins, a boy and a girl, and countless memories with your family.

As you were looking through the photo album, there was a note that had slipped out. When you grabbed it, Aaron tried to grab it from you. You opened it and read, “How You Get the Girl T. Swift”

“Aaron Hotchner. You did not win me back by acting out a Taylor Swift song in real life.”

Aaron smiled and took the note back from you. He kissed you, leaving Jack scrunching his face up and the twins clapping.

Aaron said, “That’s how it works. It’s how I got the girl.”

Tagging: @matcha70sugar @rosesinmars @imnotsiriusyouare

[ph4ngz]

Hey i have a request for Bakugou..🤭

LIKE imagine sitting on his Lap and he’s like

„ i can feel u throbbing „

btw rlly like your writings

Hot. Why does every guy I write about kinda end up being an asshole har har

I don’t have time to read this back, but hopefully there’s no mistakes *smiles awkwardly*

Thankyou btw! <3

/-/-/-/

It's been at least an hour since your boyfriend Bakugo returned home early from patrolling the city, maybe even longer. You don't know, being this horny makes it kinda difficult to keep track of time.

You're currently being bounced on your shirtless hero's thigh whilst he fills in a few bits of paperwork, built muscles flexing underneath your weight. He has a bare arm snaked around your waist to keep you steady as he moves around on the couch, and you can feel his hard abs tensing against your back each time he leans forward to retrieve another sheet of paper from the coffee table in front of you.

You'd been looking forward to having your man back from his exhausting job a few hours earlier since it makes cleaning, cooking and whatnot much easier compared to when doing it alone. Although, you had made sure to complete your daily chores before he came home today anyway, solely due to the fact that you'd been unbearably aroused since he left this morning. You'd already made yourself cum twice to the thought of him but, clearly, nothing you can do is good enough.

You're sure he can tell how you're feeling right now! You definitely saw him try to hide a smirk when he came home to you in just a shirt and panties!

You can see that he's tired of working without being able to look at his face, the sighs that blow past his lips every so often giving him away. He also never finished removing his work clothes.

"Finished yetttt?" you drawl out slowly, wiggling along the bottoms of his hero costume to reposition yourself and unintentionally nudging your clit upon his leg, the sudden tingle of pleasure making you hurriedly cover a whimper with a forced sniff.

Sighing, Bakugo answers to your childish whining, "Just gotta fill this last one out... n' then put my signature on that one, I think."

"Can't that one wait?"

Yes, you know it's rather selfish. You should be letting him concentrate, but...!

You lean back on his warm shoulder, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. Glancing up, you admire his side profile and the way his reading glasses rest upon the bridge of his nose. You'd always thought he looked hot with them on. Maybe he would place them on his head to keep his wild hair pushed back as he goes down on you... Or maybe he'd keep them on, until your juices squirting all over the lenses becomes too much so that he can't see clearly?

Wow, you are not doing yourself any favours.

Steamy thoughts cause your body temperature to rise, voice wobbly when you beg once again, "C'monnnn, you hardly ever get home this early. I always get lonely when you're not here with me, sitting here by myself after doing housework and stuff..."

The vivid thought of you at home, all alone, not knowing what to do with yourself for hours yanks at your boyfriend's heartstrings and it's almost paining him. Slowly, Bakugo relaxes, letting the arm around you land limply over your thighs. Still staring up at his side profile, your cute smile graces his peripheral view once he manoeuvres his head to face in your direction to show he's listening.

He closes his eyes, ballpoint pen still in hand yet not on paper, and presses his forehead into your hair so he can breathe in your homely scent. He's contemplating. A wave of pride washes over you at his behaviour, only you could ever manage to coax him out of hero work.

But that pride dulls into a certain annoyance when he reverts back to his previous position and begins to work towards completing his last form, the pen in his hand barely releasing any ink unless he presses down hard enough. He's losing motivation, just a teeny bit more persuading.

"Katsukiiiii," you extend the last sound of his name in the whiniest, most pathetic way you can whilst lifting your upper half away from him, only to force yourself down with a bratty huff. Thankfully Bakugo lifted the pen away before you made him scribble over everything with your little tantrum.

A "tch" comes from your right and you frown. Fine then, you think, proceeding to (struggle to) tug your panties down, but only until they reach the other hand he has on your upper legs. Rough, scarred fingers instantly grasp the crumpled fabric but he pays no mind.

As he writes, Bakugo moves his clutch on your underwear from the twisted hem to the noticeable wet patch between your slightly spread thighs. It's difficult to open your legs more for him with your panties constricting them to at most a mere few inches apart. You watch your boyfriend toy with the dampened cloth whilst appearing to focus on what's in front of him, repeatedly swiping a thumb across the stickiness.

"So damn impatient." he mutters grumpily as always, ignoring the abrupt exhale you release at his hand cupping your yearning cunt. Those gorgeous crimson eyes roll when you attempt circling your hips to ideally catch your pulsing clit against his bottoms, but the angle your body is positioned prevents that from happening. Though it doesn't prevent the hero from landing a clean smack on the sensitive skin of your almost hidden pussy.

"Chgh! Ow..." you grit your teeth as the initial sting subsides, finding yourself flustered with desperate tears clouding your vision. Why does he have to be so mean! What's worse is that he hasn't even showed any satisfaction yet, continuing with his stupid forms or whatever like he's being forced to tease you so brutally.

Like nothing ever happened, he returns one thick middle finger to your aching bud, only to discover that your sweet slick has amounted to so much that he can hardly keep it in one place without slipping.

Bakugo's tone of voice is relatively normal as he states, "Fucking hell, I spanked you once and you're drenched,"

You mewl lightly, his touch doing the bare minimum, gliding up and down your entrance so easily, embarrassingly easy.

Wait, he's put the pen down. Where has his other hand gone?

You hadn't realised his mouth was closing in on your ear until a sharp nibble to it makes you freeze up. A gruff whisper unleashes a tsunami of shivers to race down your spine.

"You miss me that much when I'm gone, huh?"

It sounds like a teasing question, but you know it's more than that. A 'condescending demand' is more of a fitting term. That other hand of his that sneakily coiled around your throat just now is a more than enough sign for you tell the difference. It squeezes lightly, as your hero relentlessly flicks his finger over your puffy clit. Your trembling hand rapidly covers your mouth, the odd yet familiar fear of reaching your first orgasm of the moment filling your body with sparking adrenaline.

You're wailing into your palm, fidgeting in his lap due to the overstimulation and frustration at the panties stopping your legs from opening further, drinking in his words and the breathy moans escaping him because of your own delicious little whimpers.

" 'miss me so much that you just can't help yourself, ah? So much that you go outta your way to distract me from my work?" and with that said, he stops tormenting your cunt to shove three of his digits between your sloppy folds just to press them harshly over your clenching hole.

For the first time in what seems like forever, you finally take a deep, albeit shaky, breath through your nose. Your entire body twitches uncontrollably, you were so close.

"Answer my damn question, brat."

Jeez, you picked a bad day to annoy him. Who pissed in his cereal this morning?

The growing angry rumble in his voice causes you to panic and whine into your fingers like you're incapable of talking. The grip from around your neck disappears, then returns around your wrist this time, tearing it away from your plumped lips with a thin string of drool attached.

His sudden act of power evokes pleading words from you, weak voice breaking with a, "Ka-Katsuki, I jus' wanna play—"

"Answer the question. You're not stupid," he pauses for a second before circling your entrance with some pressure. You gasp at a painful sensation blooming across your cheek, realising the hot skin is being pinched with his teeth.

"I can feel you throbbing. You can't hide it, how your tight little hole begs for me. Just say it, baby. Me, you and your needy fuckin' body all know the answer."

His fingers are almost inside you and his huge palm is pressed up on your burning clit. Bakugo nuzzles into the crook of your neck, ghosting his lips along the salty skin.

"Do yourself a favour, for god's sakes." he muffles into your shoulder whilst taking a handful of your plush hips and kneading harder than ever.

"...Yes, yes— I miss you that bad, Katsuki. I always miss you so so bad, it hurts~"

Your man chuckles lowly at you, decides to pull you further into him so that your ass grinds on his restrained, jolting cock. Your heart flutters at the sound of his laugh, even if it is mocking you. Your lusty eyes are forced to make contact with his, reading glasses pushing back his fringe just as you'd imagined. Then, he lovingly kisses the bite mark donning your face.

"Finally, s'all you had to do. Now, stop pissin' me off and bounce on it." he orders, effortlessly lifting you up by your underarms to buck his hips as he slams you down.

/-/-/-/

[theblue6ook]

A Mundane Day

Summary: Is it ever really mundane office life as Bruce Wayne’s assistant? Bruce saves Y/N’s brothers from suspension.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: Hello, hello. I hope everyone enjoys this fic. If I forgot to add you to the tag list please let me know! Enjoy :) [B (23) Y/N (22)] [Eventual slow burn with Bruce] [Y/N/N is your nickname]

It was 3 pm. Bruce stretched, rising from his desk chair, with a groan. If he was lucky, he could take a nap before his night shift. Glancing at his desk, he sighed at the files there. A mix of his cases with Bane and Wayne Enterprise documents. He felt like groaning as he sorted them out and threw his case files into his briefcase. Pulling the Wayne Enterprise documents into a stack, he slipped a paperclip at the top to secure it.

It had been a relatively boring day. There weren't many meetings or executives to debate with, just lots of paperwork. Everyone was getting ready for the next quarter, and the files were coming in hot. Not to mention, he and Y/N hadn’t been the most comfortable around each other. After her broken engagement and falling asleep in each other's arms, it was like walking on eggshells. No one knew where the other stood, and Y/N had just become single. Bruce didn’t want to be that guy. So, they were lightly stepping around each other, waiting for the other to crack.

It sounds so immature or superficial to think about with everything else going on in his life. Paperwork, cases, and patrol, and here he is worrying about how to interact with a girl. How old is he, fifteen? But still, he couldn't help himself but think back to her body. How it molded against his, pressed chest to chest, with knees knocking. The sweats she wore still smell like her. It made him want to dunk himself in cold water. Tell himself to forget it. After what happened to Rachel, he knew he shouldn't. She barely made it away from him with her life, and she was lucky all she got was feargassed. Y/N deserved better than that.

Stepping out of his office and into Y/N's. She sat quietly at her desk with her blue light glasses tucked into her hair, knawing on a red pen. She was in intense focus. He silently handed her his stack of files, and she quietly mumbled a thank you, still focused on the work in front of her. Bruce moved to the coat rack to slip on his jacket with mild difficulty. Last night, he tried following one of Bane's freighter trucks. It had not gone well for him.

Finally, he shrugged the coat on in one motion, trying to minimize the pain as much as he could, while hoping to appear as normal as possible. Y/N glanced up at him as he prepared to leave, but once he shrugged his coat on, his button-down shirt slipped forward, and a bruise appeared bright and uncovered. 

The bruise was a bright, ugly purple that took up a large chunk of his collarbone and peck. Her eyes widened, "Oh my god, Bruce."

Bruce smiled lightly, playfully rolling his eyes. She used his first name. It never happened much unless she was either outstandingly pleased or uncomfortably serious. Bruce loved it and would take it either way, especially since it broke the silence. 

Y/N rounded the desk in a flash and took him by the collar. She pulled his face down to her level, trying to get a good view of the bruise. Bruce again rolled his eyes, trying to act like it was no big deal. Slowly, he worked to pull away, but she manhandled him, pulling him back down harder, popping the top button on his shirt. He tried to act oblivious, "Y/N, what are you doing? You know, if anyone else did this, it would be harassment." 

Y/N watched the bruise silently, with her brows furrowed. She looked over the top of his shoulder down to his peck. Without thinking ahead, she stuck out her hand and placed her cold palm on his warm chest. He tensed. At the temperature or her touch, she wasn't sure, but she smoothed her hand over the bruise. It was like ink had stained his skin. She looked up at him, frowning. He was closer than she thought, her nose almost hitting his chin. "What is this?"

“A bruise,” he stated plainly. Her eyebrow rose, and Bruce sighed, “I’ve been spelunking.”

“Spelunking?” she said quickly, “What is spelunking?”

“A rich man's sport.”

“Mr.Wayne-”

“It’s cave exploration,” he admitted, smirking down at her. 

“If people belonged in caves, they would be there,” she was interrupted by a harsh ring. Pausing, she looked up at him once more, “This conversation is not over. You stay there.”

He thought about making his exit, but she would no doubt follow him whether she was on the phone, or not.

She cleared her throat, “Bruce Wayne’s office this is Y/N… Yes, this is she… What? You’re kidding… Yes, yes I understand. I’ll be there as soon as I can… Okay, thank you.”

Covering her face with her hands, she groaned. She moved on quickly, though, shoving files in her bag. “What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing.” Bruce raised his eyebrow at her, and she looked over her shoulder at him, “My brothers are in the principal's office. I have to go pick them up and talk to the office about it. If I leave now, I can catch the bus-”

"I can drive you-"

"That's really not necessary-"

"Y/N, don't be ridiculous. Come on." He walked out of their office with a swagger, as if she didn't just catch the bruise on his collarbone and she really had no choice but to follow him. 

"Didn't Alfred drop you off?" she called after him, "I don't want to bother him."

"No," he laughed, "I can drive myself, you know."

They took the elevator down to the garage, and in his own personal spot was a four-seat, scissor-door Gordan Murray. Y/N had only heard about this car. It was over two million dollars, in a sparkling black that reflected blue in the sun. Oh, she wanted to drive that car.

He looked behind him and flipped her door open, "You getting in?"

She didn't know what to do but laugh. Come on he mumbled grabbing her bag and slipping it in the back before she got in the car. He closed it behind her like a gentleman. The interior was a mix of black and white leather. The seats were peak comfort and she wondered if this was what heaven was like.

The car rode like a beauty and they sat in blissful silence for some time. She saw Bruce glancing at her every now and then, curiously. She finally said, “What’s up?”

Truth be told, he was observing her. He needed to see if he had crossed a line when he pulled her into his arms. All he wanted to do was blurt out did I make you uncomfortable? Would you do it again? But everything in his head told him it would only lead to disaster, so he opted to ask a different question. “Two brothers then?”

“Two brothers in trouble,” she replied. 

“Parents couldn’t help out?”

Y/N laughed dryly, “I’m their guardian and emergency contact when it comes to school. We keep Frank out of it.”

“Frank?”

She sighed and spoke cooly, “My dad.”

Her cool tone seemed annoyed by the topic, but Bruce could tell her body language was anxious. Nodding silently, he decided not to pry. Bruce wasn’t even sure where he stood with Y/N, he’d rather not test his luck asking questions about her family, so they rode once again in blissful silence.

Pulling into the school parking lot, Bruce pulled Y/N’s hand away from the door handle and moved out of the car to open the door for her. He had another pleasant memory of his mother, be a gentleman, Brucie, pop into his head. It had become second nature to him now. As Y/N stepped out of the car, she noticed Bruce stepped with her toward the school. Turning to him, she said, “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I drove you here,” he said. She narrowed her eyes at him and he shrugged. “Honestly, I’m kind of in it now.” 

Y/N huffed, turning to reluctantly walk inside, and Bruce followed after her. Y/N knew if she really pushed, he would have stayed by the car, but she didn’t even feel like arguing. She had enough on her mind. Fighting, she thought, I’m gonna kill them. Buzzing into the office, she turned quickly to him, pointing at one of the chairs sat in the office lobby, “You can sit there.” 

“Whatever you want. I’m here for moral support,” Bruce replied as he plopped into one of the plastic, cushioned seats.

Liar, Y/N thought as she approached the receptionist's desk. The receptionist, an older woman with a shorter, choppy haircut, had given Y/N the basic rundown of what happened, but it felt like a few details were missing. Some boys were arguing over an article with Carl, and it caused a little tiff between them when Lucas got involved, and that’s when the… physical violence started, she had relayed to Y/N. What article? Why did Lucas get involved? Who was Carl fighting with? It wasn’t making sense. 

“You can follow me,” she said. She moved behind the desk to lead her over to the principal's office, but not before glancing over at Bruce Wayne and looking back towards Y/N with a curious look. Y/N mumbled, confused, “After you.”

Bruce had sat nice and close to the entrance of the principal's office. He wanted to be in range if Y/N needed anything. Not that she would, but just in case. God, what is wrong with him?

“Why would you fight him?” she scolded, sharply.

He could hear her brother try to defend himself, “He needed help!”

So, that must be Lucas.

“He needs mental help,” she teased back. “Seriously, you’re already on your third strike. What’s going on?”

“They were talking shit about you,” Bruce could hear who he could only assume was Carl mumble. That’s my cue.

It seemed as if Bruce had manifested in the doorway, “What’d they said about your sister?”

“What are you doing in here?!” she bellowed at him. Bruce took in the situation. Y/N was squatted in front of her brothers, who sat in similarly uncomfortable cheap chairs as they had in the lobby. She had her hands placed on their forearms, in a comforting manner. The oldest one, Lucas, looked like he was maturing well. He could see similarities between him and Y/N, but for the most part, he had his own individual look. His eyes were bordering on sunken in, and his cheek sported black and blue from his fight earlier. The second boy Y/N was with had to be Carl. He looked younger and impressionable. He clung to Y/N’s arm as if she hung the moon and sported a black eye and busted lip. Not only that, he was the spitting image of Y/N, but that wasn’t even the most shocking part. There at the desk was no one. No principal. Not a single person. 

“Where is your principal?” he responded, unbothered.

Carl stared up at Bruce Wayne flabbergasted, “Holy shit.”

“Don’t swear,” Y/N said with clenched teeth. “You need to go sit in the lobby-”

“Sorry, I’m late, Ms.Y/L/N,” the principal stepped in. “I had to settle a matter with the other student.” Their principal, a stout man with a slick combover, looked over at Bruce Wayne with what seemed to be slight shock and then a knowing look. He cleared his throat and gestured to the two empty chairs. “Please sit down. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr.Wayne.”

“I’m sorry he really doesn’t need to be here-”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, interrupting her. Bruce looked over at Y/N and gestured his hand for her to sit first. She was embarrassed enough as it was, she really didn’t want him to hear about her dysfunctional family here, at her brothers' school, of all places. 

“I’m sorry,” Y/N broke the silence, “Where are the other student's parents? I’d like to speak to them about this whole situation.”

“Well, that would be me, Ms.Y/L/N.” You have got to be fucking kidding me. Y/N looked over at Bruce in disbelief. Should the principal be handling situations his own son is involved in? She certainly didn’t think so. 

“Don’t you think that’s a little inappropriate,” Bruce started, “to be handling your own child’s punishment? Regarding the situation, I mean.” Y/N gave him a sideways glance telling him it wasn’t his place to butt in, but he seemed to ignore it.

“Mr.Wayne,” the principal seemed to become defensive quickly, “I don’t suggest you put your nose into other people's business. These aren’t your kids.” Wasn’t he the one to tell Bruce to sit in? Y/N became visibly annoyed.

“As a donator,” Bruce smirked, and Y/N felt her ears perk up, “I just can’t support a school that handles issues in such a way. You understand?”

The principal’s face turned white, and every negative feeling Y/N had about Bruce Wayne, had dissipated. She could kiss him on the mouth.

Oh, he was good. He was so good at getting around people, getting exactly what he wanted to be. She felt a sigh of relief leave her chest, and Bruce placed a knowing hand on her knee. He was letting her know, I’ve got you. 

-

After the sour meeting with Carl and Lucas's principal, Y/N had suggested she and the boys take the bus home, despite her brother's protests. Bruce simply wouldn't allow it; he had other plans for the four of them. So here they all sat at Lucy’s Pancakes, a breakfast diner near the office. Y/N couldn’t even be bothered to be annoyed with the change in plans after Bruce’s stunt earlier. Her brothers might have been suspended if he hadn’t stepped in.

So she pleasantly ate her Choc-O-Chunk pancakes sitting across from Bruce Wayne, who looked like peak domesticity. He gave his full attention to her brothers, answering their every question and whim. With his shirt slightly unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up, she couldn't help but grin. It was all too sweet.

Her brothers threw all kinds of questions at him. 

How much was your car?

What do you even do?

How did you meet our sister?

How much money do you have?

How many girls have you dated?

“So you broke up Y/N and Russ huh? I’d call it an upgrade.”

Y/N swore her head had completely swiveled when Carl asked that question. Bruce looked up at her, unsure how he should respond. He had to remind himself it wasn't his place, but he found himself shaking his head anyway. Y/N raised her eyebrows, "Carl, what?! No-"

Bruce cleared his throat and slipped out of the booth, "I think I should go pay the check."

Y/N couldn't help but feel so embarrassed, watching Bruce head toward the cashier. "Okay, not funny, Carl. What are you talking about?"

“You didn’t see the article?” he asked.

"That asshole kid was saying you were Bruce Wayne's bitch," Lucas said angrily, "Carl headbutted him."

"The article in the Daily Planet,” Carl handed her his cracked iPhone. There on the screen was her and Bruce at her birthday dinner. Y/N was photographed with Bruce’s arm on her bare waist, fingertips dipping into her dress. He was whispering in her ear in the picture, and she blushed about as red as her dress, but other than that, she looked good. It was the headline that shocked her. Bruce Wayne Breaks Up Assistant’s Engagement By Lois Lane. She snatched the phone out of her brother's hand. 

Bruce Wayne’s assistant, Y/F/N Y/L/N, was seen at The Ocelot wearing her engagement ring, but where was it the next day? Bruce Wayne might be the answer. 

Sources say the bachelor's assistant was involved in a four-year engagement with her high school sweetheart, Danny Russell. After witnesses saw Wayne mingling with Y/L/N in the Ocelot, the assistant appeared ringless as she walked into Wayne Enterprises the next day. Sounds like a classic romance trope to me-

“This is bullshit,” Y/N read.

“I dunno,” Lucas spoke pointing to the picture. “You look pretty close there.”

She slapped his hand out of the way, “Bruce is not the reason I’m done with Russ-”

“Your sister was lucky to dump that cheater,” Bruce emerged again, placing a tip down on the table. 

Carl turned toward Y/N for confirmation. Once he realized it was true, his eyes turned cold, “I’ll burn his house down.”

“He couldn’t afford a house and even if he could it’s none of your business,” she spoke pushing Carl’s head down, “now eat your pancakes.”

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