The nice, expensive trail mix, with twelve kinds of nuts and the big sunflower seeds and dried fruits, the kind Tony only rarely left sitting on the common floors for everyone to get at, was gone.
Clint had been looking forward to that stuff all morning.
All the way through a hellish morning “jog” with Steve, all through Nat handing him his ass on the training mats, all through firing the same batch of misweighted arrows over and over so Tony could take scans and fix the design, he’d been thinking, when this is done I get to go upstairs and hang out on the couch and watch Dog Cops and eat the good trail mix, guilt-free.
And it was gone.
Clint was gonna shoot somebody.
Just as soon as he figured out who’d taken the trail mix.
yesterday i saw a sad duck in the park who kept getting picked on by the other ducks so today i brought some trail mix and we had a nice lunch together. also i think he might be the duck who pooped on sam last week. if so, he is officially my new best friend.
I’ve just finished rewatching Gravity Falls – it’s like, my summer series now and I have to watch it when I’m on break. I really love this series yall ghghgh ;; so have some older dipper doodles because my art style is changing again (lol) and a redraw because the backgrounds in Gravity Falls are lovely imo. They feel very solid and they compliment the tone of the story really really well and I just?? really love the art direction of Gravity Falls, I haven’t found anything like it really so it feels special to me! The chilly forests populated with huge old trees remind me of when I took a vacation to Oregon when I was 9– it was summer, but it was cooler and wetter than dry as heck Utah and it all felt so magical. Gravity Falls reminded me of why I want to move to Oregon and as such it will always hold a special place in my heart
summary: dan calls himself daddy, and phil finds out dan has a pain kink
warnings: blood, degradation, pain kink, ddlb, swearing just general kinky shit
a/n: this is probably shit but oh well
“yes! daddy wins! daddy’s the best!” dan giggled as that round ended.
“stop calling yourself daddy it’s weird!” phil said jokingly as they continued the game. after the game ended, and they shut off the camera, phil turned to dan with a soft smirk on his face.
“really dan? daddy? a little bit of a stretch for you, don’t you think?” he asked as he settled a hand on dans thigh, squeezing gently.
“yeah i was just immersed in the game phil it was nothing!” dan replied nervously, his cock twitching from phil’s hand on his leg.
phil nodded. “good, because we both know who’s daddy here, don’t we baby boy?”
dan whimpered and bit his lip, trying to contain himself. phil stood up and placed his hands on each of dans armrests, looking at dan sharply. “ i asked you a question, so answer me properly.”
“well, i don’t know, i think that i could probably dom you,” dan mused.
“oh really? that’s a good joke, dan,” phil scoffed.
“i mean, you’re not even that good of a dom anyways, you barely even make me hard sometimes,” dan stated.
phil furrowed his brows. “i know you like it. stop lying.”
“oh i’m not lying. maybe i just need to find someone else. someone who can actually dom me well. you can barely even control me.” dan examined his nails nonchalantly. “i mean, you’re a bit of a wimp.”
phil growled low in his throat, bringing his hand back and slapping dan across the face, the contact creating a loud sound that reverberated throughout their office.
phil widened his eyes in horror. “oh god dan i’m so sorry i didn’t mean to, it was an accident!”
dan groaned at the impact, a harsh red already blooming on his cheek. “more,” he said breathily.
phil gasped. “jesus, dan, you kinky shit.”
“please, phil, just hit me again,” dan asked.
“um, okay,” phil complied and brought his hand down again, creating the same result as last time: a loud, low moan from dan.
“oh you like that, don’t you?” phil asked, his mind beginning to become more and more dominant. “you just wanted to get a rise out of me so i would hit you didn’t you?”
dan nodded. “i’ve wanted you to hit me for so long, slap me, punch me, whip me, please!”
phil found it almost scarily easy to become so dominant, so aggressive. he just couldn’t help it. dan was looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes of his, and all phil wanted to do was fucking ruin his innocent demeanor.
“oh my god dan you’re such a little slut. you’re already hard,” phil trailed his hand up his thigh and brushed his fingers lightly against dan’s bulge, making his breath hitch. “i barely even hit you, but all you want is more.”
“hit me, daddy. please mark me up, make me bleed,” dan whined. there was nothing that he loved more than phil hitting him. he wanted phil to find his dom headspace, where all of his energy was focused on using and abusing dan. he couldn’t get enough of it; the pain felt so, so good. the crack of the belt against his skin, the sting of the paddle, the pull of the clamps, all of it. he had gotten off in the shower many times to the thought of phil hitting him til bruises bloomed on his flesh and blood speckled his skin.
“oh baby, you’re going to love what’s coming.” phil trailed his finger down the milky expanse of dan’s neck, down over his collarbone, chest, and stomach, imagining how beautifully the dark bruises and scarlet blood would contrast against his pale skin.
dan whimpered. “sir please. i know you want to hit me, leave marks everywhere. abuse me. please?” he asked, looking up through his eyelashes at phil, trying to convince him. he needed this so badly. he and phil had lovely sex all the time, but lately it was just sweet, vanilla stuff with whispered “i love you’s” and soft sounds, and dan was craving more. he wanted, no, needed, this, needed to be put in his place by phil, by his master.
phil stood up. “downstairs. my room. clothes off, against the wall. now.”
dan nodded excitedly and lifted himself out of his chair, but phil put his hand around dans neck and squeezed roughly and pushed him back down. “i swear to fucking god, if you touch yourself, i will flog you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a week.”
dan made a soft sound in his throat and choked out a “yes sir” with what little breath he had left.
“good boy. now go.”
dan immediately shot up and scampered downstairs, phil’s eyes following his sweet little baby’s ass as he left the room.
dan raced downstairs and entered phils room, quickly stripping and standing with his front towards the wall, his legs spread apart and his hands on the wall above his head, his chest rising and falling quickly in anticipation. a few minutes later he heard footsteps entering the room along with the sound of something else, possibly metallic.
“wow you finally managed to be a good little whore, i’m surprised,” phil said.
dan nodded, and turned his head to the side in hopes of seeing what phil had brought in, but he instead received and harsh slap on his ass, making dan rock forward and then push back for more.
“princess, be patient or ill just leave you like this, hard and pathetic,” phil growled in dan’s ear, turning him around away from the wall. dan looked slightly confused, as phil had told him to be at the wall, but didn’t have much time to think as phil’s fist came sailing towards his jaw. the impact made dan’s teeth clack together and he stumbled onto the ground from the surprise.
“yes sir, sorry sir,” dan replied, bringing his hand up to cup his jaw.
“get the fuck up, you stupid whore,” phil growled, pushing his hand into dan’s hair and yanking him up by his brown locks.
dan winced as phil pulled his hair, and scrambled to his feet.
“get in position you bitch, now.”
dan turned around and spread his legs again, straightening his posture and breathing in deep.
then he opened his mouth in a scream as he felt a sharp metal object hit the skin of his back.
“you answer me loud and clear or else i’ll gag you okay? here are the rules. since i am such a nice master, i’m giving you the pain you so desperately hope for. i will be using two objects to hit you, the first the leather part of the belt, the second is the buckle of the belt. i will be giving you twenty of the first and five of the second, and then fuck you if i feel like you deserve it. you will stay in this position until i say so. if you fall or move, i’ll not let you come for a month, got it?” phil asked.
“yes daddy,” dan answered, biting his lip in anticipation.
“color, baby?” phil inquired, suddenly turning soft and loving, making sure he did in fact have the okay from dan.
“green, daddy, please just get on with it!” dan whined, arching his back.
phil answered with a sharp slap to dan’s ass, jumping back into his dominant headspace, and slammed dan’s head into the wall. “don’t fucking tell me what to do.”
dan groaned and then smiled as he felt blood start to drip from his nose and down onto his chest. he was so hard already it hurt and his cock was blurting precome onto the floor.
“now, i’m going to fit you with a ball gag so the neighbors won’t hear your slutty moans okay?” phil growled.
phil went over to his pile of toys and picked out the gag, which had a nice black strap and a bright red ball in the middle, and brought it over to dan. “look at me.”
dan turned his head towards phil, meeting his bright blue eyes that were filled with lust. phil leaned in and pressed his mouth to dan’s, kissing him roughly right from the start. their mouths melded together, teeth clacking and lips bruising. phil swiped his tongue on dan’s soft bottom lip and dan immediately opened, a soft whine erupting low in his throat. suddenly, phil pulled back and slapped him roughly again, making dan pant even harder. phil pushed the ball in between dan’s pretty pink lips and pulled the strap around his head, pulling it tight.
dan nodded, and phil pressed a soft kiss to dans nose, then turned away and grabbed the brown leather belt from his dresser.
“you ready, whore?” phil asked dan, as he took his place behind him.
dan nodded and moaned low in his throat, trying to say ‘please’ but only managed to let out a garbled plea.
phil smirked and wrapped the belt around his hand for a better grip, then pulled his arm back and whipped it forward, the leather hitting dan’s pale back, forcing a shriek from dans mouth. phil grinned sadistically at the bright pink mark that was already forming on dan’s back.
every hit that phil delivered made dan’s muscles tighten up and a small moan leave his mouth, but not once did he move from his position. phil was on the last hit with the leather, and this one was the hardest, the sound of the belt hitting skin was deliciously loud and dan’s muffled moans were even better.
phil stepped back and looked at his handiwork, dan’s back scored with red marks, some had purple bruises beginning to form on the outside. dan’s breathing was heavy and ragged and his cock was constantly dripping precome now.
dan could feel his hot breath bounce off the wall and the pain dancing up and down his back was warm and stinging.
the belt buckle was a relatively new torture weapon to dan, and completely new to phil. back then, with dan’s previous partner, he was scared of the metal, the blood it pulled out, the way it stung for days afterwards. but now? now he wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything, besides of course phil’s cock.
dan turned his head to the side and tried to say something, but his effort was unsuccessful.
“what was that, slut?” phil asked, walking to dan and facing him. dan tried once again to speak, but it came out muffled and incoherent. phil tugged the ball gag down and gripped dan’s chin. “what is it, whore?”
“d-daddy,” dan stammered, his voice shaky, “feels so good, want to bruise, want to bleed, please daddy more, more, want your cock too, i’m so hard, please!”
phil chuckled. “so impatient, so greedy. beg for it, you fucking cockslut.”
“daddy oh god please hit me more twenty isn’t enough! i want more, please. ruin me, mark me, abuse me, i need it! i want it, please sir,” dan begged, his voice dripping with desperation, his only thought was the metal glinting at the end of the belt still wrapped around phil’s hand.
phil sighed. “disappointing, thought you could do better. guess you just are a dumb whore.”
he stepped back and flipped the belt around so that the metal was dragging on the ground. phil had never been so aroused in his entire life, looking at his little cockslut in front of him, wrecked. but not wrecked enough, phil thought.
dan didn’t feel or hear anything for a feel seconds and was concerned that phil had left, when he felt the metal connecting with his skin. his mouth opened in a scream, the cold buckle pulling away before he could catch his breath. the pain shot through his body and his knees buckled, his head dipping low between his shoulders.
“ah, ah, remember whore, if you don’t stay in position you will get a punishment, and not one that your slutty little body will enjoy.” phil reprimanded, pulling the buckle back to him to prepare for another shot.
the buckle hit dan’s back again and another moan/scream ripped from his throat. he felt the warm blood from the harsh hit run down his back and he moaned again loudly despite the gag.
phil once again approached dan and pulled down the gag, whispering in his ear. “i want to hear your loud, whorish moans as i hit you, okay?”
“yes sir,” dan groaned, finally able to talk.
“good boy, such a good, slutty, princess for me.”
dan whined at the praise and arched his back, asking phil silently to hit him again.
phil grinned and complied, making the metal kiss dan’s skin again, and dan tipped his head back and screamed, the pain feeling better than any vibrator or other toy he had ever felt.
again and again the metal hit dans skin, and again and again dan screamed and moaned until his voice was hoarse. the last hit again was the worst, phil bringing down the buckle harder than ever before, opening up a bright red gash on dans back, blood pressing to the surface instantly. dan came instantly as the metal hit, unable to hold it in any longer, the pain just felt so overwhelmingly good.
phil looked at dan, his back painted with bright reds and purples and cum dripping slowly down his leg, and phil had never seen anything more beautiful in his life. it was his first time abusing dan like that, and phil loved it more than he cared to admit.
phil’s study was broken by a low whine from dan who was still in position and phil rushed to his side.
“don’t worry baby, it’s okay you did so good, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” phil asked gently, turning dan to face him.
dan’s face was a mess of tears and a bit of blood from his nose, and he looked absolutely exhausted. he still was breathing heavily and he looked up at phil with half-lidded eyes. “hurts,” he said softly.
“c'mere, love, can you make it to the bathroom?” phil asked gently, placing his hands on both sides of dans face.
dan nodded sleepily, his eyes drifting close as phil wraps his arm around his waist.
“i’m sorry baby, you have to stay awake just a bit more so we can get you taken care of, okay?” phil said, looking at dan to make sure he opened his eyes.
dan simply nodded again and they made their way slowly to the bathroom. when they got there, phil sat dan on the closed toilet seat while he began to fill the tub with water, not adding any bath bombs or bubbles as it might sting dan’s back. every so often he would turn around to make sure dan stayed awake, and to his credit, dan was trying.
phil stood from his position kneeling by the tub and went to leave, but he heard dan whine and turned around to see him making grabby hands at phil.
“i’ll be right back love. i have to go get some stuff for your back okay?” phil asked him.
“okay,” dan replied, all his energy spent.
phil smiles and kisses his curly hair before turning again and exiting the room.
he came back with some pain medication, salve, and gel to sterilize and soothe the marks. he set them on the counter and went over to dan to pick him up and help him to the bath. as dan sunk into the steamy water, he winced at the burn.
“do you want me to stay out here, princess?”
“yes daddy,” dan said quietly, but reached his hand out to phil, who grabbed it and began stroking his arm lightly.
“daddy?” dans soft voice carried to phil.
“can we do that again?”
this is a lot longer than i thought it would be? also constructive criticism is always welcome as i’m new to writing
Pairing: Hoseok/Reader AU: Phone Sex Operator!Hoseok Genre: Smut Rating: M Warnings: phone sex, masturbation, dirty talk Word Count: 1.2k A/N: I had so many problems writing this, so I’m very sorry if this is c r a p. It’s also not beta’d so that’s another thing. Either way, here’s Hoseok’s version of the PSO!AU.
Summary: Your friend tells you about an exclusive, luxury phone sex operator who goes simply by “Sir”. When you manage to get a chance to get a call with him, you get a surprise.
An obnoxious repetitive beeping woke you up from your slumber. Light was beginning to peep from underneath the curtains, swaying softly from the soft breeze of the open window. You blindly skimmed your hand across the bedside table to push several buttons to turn that damn alarm off.
You’d been working at Overwatch for the past year or so. Secretly. You don’t think your parents would approve, they were very much.. against the Omnics. To say it kindly. Your parents weren’t for peace and justified protests, expecting you to do the same. However, you loved your job and you wouldn’t trade it in for anything else. Your job consisted of buying in ammunition for the agents, from shotgun shells to handcrafted arrows and shurikens.
A quick shower, brush teeth, comb hair, and get dressed. You had to think what you needed to do before you left the comfortable confines of your warm bed.
Just a few more minutes..
* * *
“Reyes wants to see you. Now.”
You had become accustomed to calling everyone ‘sir’, or ‘ma'am’ in the time that you had been here. Strike Commander Morrison had made sure of that.
You made your way through the grey corridors of Watchpoint: Gibralter. To an outsider it may look very much like a military base, but to you it was home. You passed by a couple of agents, nodding in acknowledgement, heads close no doubt whispering about an upcoming mission. You reach the office of Gabriel Reyes, the head of Blackwatch. Blackwatch is a unit of Overwatch, that carries out black ops missions not so legally. To the public, Blackwatch didn’t exist which is why you had to swear secrecy when you joined Overwatch. You were no stranger to this side of the of watchpoint, delivering confirmations and news of deals as you also had to buy ammunition for the unit.
You knocked at the steel door.
Your hand went to the handle and turned it, letting yourself in. Reyes was sitting at his desk, some holoscreens open which were swiftly shut.
“Commander Morrison said you wanted to see me, sir?”
“Yes, Y/N. I have a proposition for you.”
You waited in silence, respectfully.
“Blackwatch need something. You are the perfect candidate, gatita.“
Your eyes slightly fluttered at the pet name, something only Reyes calls people when he wants sweeten them up.
“Unfortunately, some of our other agents are on missions, and some just aren’t.. suitable.”
Your right eyebrow slightly raises.
“Y/N, we need information. There’s an event that Morrison and I are attending this Friday night. This is where you will retrieve said information.
“Sir, may I?”
Reyes looks at you, leaning back his chair, waiting.
“I.. Sir. I’m not an agent. I buy in ammunition, not use it.”
“Gatita, you haven’t even been briefed yet and you’re declining?” He seemed amused.
“No, sir, I er-”
“Y/N, McCree taught you to fire a gun, sí? Jack has taught you hand to hand combat, sí?”
You blush slightly. Reyes wasn’t wrong. It had been compulsory that you learnt the basics of combat, long or short range.
“Yes.. sir. But may I enquire as to why you chose me?”
Reyes bows his head, pushes his chair back and stands up. He walks around his desk to stand directly in front of you. Reyes puts his finger underneath your chin and tilts your head to look up at him. You can count on one hand the amount of times you were alone with the leader of Blackwatch. Never have you had the chance to study his features this close: his coarse beard hair, the slightly dark tints under his eyes, his eyes. Wow. Dark pools of chocolate staring into you.
“Niña. You are the perfect assett. Attractive. Naturally flirtacious. Which is exactly what I need you to be this Friday. It’s a gathering of government officials; everyone dislikes each other but put on a mask as they are the ones that sign off our pay checks. However, they don’t know your face and wouldn’t expect you to pull of something so.. risky.”
The corners of his lips tugged up slightly at seeing the reaction from your face.
“Don’t worry, gatita, you won’t be in much danger, plus Morrison and I will be there. A simple in and out, if you will.” Reyes smirked.
You nodded. You weren’t in a position to decline, both mentally and physically, as Reyes’ finger hadn’t moved from your chin and he was still oh so very close to you.
“I’ll send the whole brief over to you later today. You’re dismissed, L/N.”
Your back to the cool steel of the outside of Reyes’ door, you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. A black ops mission? With Jack and Gabriel? You were excited, but incredibly nervous. He said you weren’t going to be in much danger - what exactly did he want you to do?
McCree snapped you out of your thoughts. When did he get here?
“Y'all okay, Y/N? Look like ya seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, thanks, Jesse. Just some er, unexpected things going on is all.”
“Why’re you outsida Reyes’ door?”
“Has he got you goin’ on a mission? Oh my God Y/N if he has you gotta let me kno-”
“McCree. Leave L/N alone.”
Reyes had somehow opened his door without either of you knowing, making you both jump a little.
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” McCree scurried off, leaving you two alone, again.
“Y/N, I forgot to mention - don’t tell anyone. Especially McCree.”
“Yes, sir.” You dropped your head slightly and walked off, making your way back to your desk.
* * *
You had made it back to your apartment, only after a long day of thinking about your conversation with Reyes. The holoscreen of the brief he had sent you was hovering above your coffee table. You were perched on the edge of the sofa, elbows resting on your knees and hands clasped underneath your chin.
You were to arrive outside of the watchpoint at 7pm, adorned in this dress that Reyes had picked out for you. Black, floor length with a thigh high split, sleeveless but not quite low cut. You had to admit, he had good taste. You were to pose as his ‘partner’, oblivious to Blackwatch and ignorant to other political happenings in the world. Once Morrison and Reyes had distracted the higher ups, you were to say you were going to powder your nose, while actually looking for the Target’s office. From there, you were to insert the drive, download whatever is on the computer and leave. Nice and simple. Everyone important enough should be distracted and if the worst happens, you can always play ignorant and say you got lost. Easy.
* * *
Fresh air drifted across the back of your shoulders; you’d have to talk to Reyes that although his tastes were good, he forgot a bloody jacket. You were standing outside of the entrance to the watchpoint, scuffing your black heels on the ground as you waited for the commanders. You were a bit early, but you’d rather impress your higher ups than be late on the first mission.
Reyes and Morrison arrived together, and boy did they scrub up well. Morrison wore a pair of navy trousers and a matching blazer, with a white shirt that had the few buttons at the top undone. Reyes had on an onyx black suit, with a black shirt and a black tie. To say you were impressed would be an understatement. You did however feel a tad more relaxed that you weren’t the only one dressing up tonight.
“Sir. Sir.” You looked at them both and nodded your head slightly.
“Y/N. Ay Dios mío. You look..”
Morrison had leaned over to Reyes and whispered something in his ear, then gave him a little nudge.
“..Very good. Erm, well done.” Reyes swiftly turned around and motioned for you to follow him, no doubt in the direction of the mission.
“So. Although the building is in walking distance, we have decided to bring the dropship along just in case things do decide to get hairy.”
You nodded at Morrison’s explanation.
“Y/N, you will stay with Gabriel until I give the all clear. Understood?”
The rest of walk was in comfortable silence, as Morrison had said the journey wouldn’t take long. You could hear the sounds of people talking and fake laughs, just around the corner.
“Y/N, hold my hand.”
You couldn’t say no. Well, it was in your brief that you were acting as Reyes’ girlfriend, but you’d imagined it more being his actual girlfriend than a faux one on a mission. You took his right hand in your left, your other hand occupied by a black clutch purse containing the drive. Your face burned a little, Morrison and Reyes were whispering at this point, too quiet for you to hear but there were a couple of chuckles, and a few squeezes on your hand from Reyes. Whether it was reassurance or they were talking about you, you weren’t entirely sure. Before you reached the entrance, you all stopped.
“Y/N, this is for you. You may have seen the other agents wear them.”
It was a tiny earpiece, almost invisible.
“You just put it in there, yes, like that.” Reyes brushed your hair back over your ear to see if you had inserted it correctly. To anyone else it looked as though Reyes was being affectionate.
“Ah, good evening Gentleman and what I may say, a fine lady.” The greeter at the door bowed slightly and smiled at you. He opened the door with a curt nod to the security. “We hope you enjoy your evening. There’s an open bar and canapés will be arriving shortly.”
Free drinks and food? You smiled at the greeter, and made your way in through the open door towards the mass of people that had gathered in the bar area.
“Y/N, where do you think you are going?” A sharp tug on your hand made you suddenly stop. You turned back, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.
“I was going to get drinks. You want this to go as smoothly as possible, don’t you?”
“.. Let Jack get them.”
Morrison smirked slightly as he made his way through the crowd, leaving you and Reyes in the middle of the tiled floor.
“Come, let’s go grab a seat.”
You led him over to one of the bar tables that luckily still had three chairs free. Reyes hadn’t let go of your hand, and was making small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. A small awkward silence followed once you both had sat down. You looked over towards the bar, seeing if you could see Morrison with your drinks.
“What, missing our company already?” You could hear a hint of sarcasm in his voice. What was going on with him lately?
“No, I er, was just seeing if I could see him with our drinks.” You inwardly cursed yourself. You were alone with Gabriel Reyes for goodness sake, the commander of Blackwatch. The majority of people in Overwatch have at some point fancied the likes of him, and now here you were.
“It’s okay, gatita,” His thumb making motions on your knuckles again. “You’ll do great.”
You smiled slightly at his praise. You were about to take a breath in to say something before Morrison came back with his hands full of glasses.
“Open bar, my ass.” He set the drinks down on the table. “Oh ‘Sprite and Coca-Cola are free but you have to pay for the alcohol’.” He was clearly impersonating what seemed to be a very Californian accent. Reyed chuckled slightly, and raised his glass in a toast.
“To Y/N’s first.”
Morrison nodded and clinked his glass with Reyes’ then with yours. You tapped your glass with Reyes’ and took a large gulp.
“Sir, I thought you said you had to pay for alcohol?”
“I did, Y/N. And please call me Jack. People might start gettng ideas if you call me that in public.” Morrison squinted his eyes at you and smirked. What you couldn’t see was Reyes glaring at Morrison, his mouth twitching slightly just itching to say something.
“Ah, yes of course, the highly praised Jack Morrison and Gabriel Reyes. How are you both?” A what it seemed very high up official shook both Morrison’s and Reyes’ hands, before turning to you. “And who is this absolute treasure that you have found, Reyes?”
“This is my girlfriend, sir. New to the scene, should we say.” All three men chuckled at that. New to the scene? You suppose you had to play along. The man gently took your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles.
“Enchante.” He winked.
“Pleasure.” You returned.
An hour and half of mingling, and you had made your way to the centre of the crowd. A light tap on your elbow from Morrison signalled your cue.
“Gentleman, if I may be excused, I must go powder my nose.”
A smile and a nod from Reyes granted your leave. You turned and headed towards where the ladies’ were, pushing the swing door open and silently thanking that there was no one else in here. Setting your purse down next to the sink, you looked at yourself in the mirror. This dress had done you wonders, probably because of the split up your thigh and the tightness around the waist. You brushed your hair behind your ear and push the button to turn the earpiece on.
“Testing. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, Y/N. We’ve moved away from the crowd a bit so we can talk to you more freely.”
“Okay, good. I’m just making my way there.”
You stepped out of the ladies’ and began your course of navigating this maze of corridors. Your heart was beating louder than usual, all down to nerves. Your heels clicking against the tiles made you feel empowered; there was just something about that noise that you absolutely loved. You stopped at the wooden door with a wavy glass pane, at the end of the hallway as instructed by the brief.
Well of course it was locked.
Reyes had prepared you for this. This building was incredibly old, and had not been updated to preserve the history. You took out two bobby pins that were in your purse and straightened them both out. You had bent the tip of one to make it almost look like an alan key, and slid that into the lock. The straight pin slid underneath that one, and with some pressure in the right places and a turn of the pins, the door clicked open. You hastily stepped inside and quietly shut the door. A quick look around the office, and you found what you were looking for: the Target’s computer. You perched on the edge of the chair behind the desk. Reyes had said all you would need to do would put the drive into the slot and it would do all of the work for you. You inserted the drive, the holoscreen lighting up and a progress bar slowly making it’s way 100%.
“The drive is inserted. It said it should take approximately 8 minutes.”
“Well done, gatitio. Let’s hope everything carries on as smoothly as it has done.”
You had time to spare, so you being as nosey as you were decided to have a look around. A few papers here and there, folders strewn about. You picked up a letter and skim read it. Something about Omnics. When was it not? You tilted your head as something caught your eye.
What is this? Why do they have information on you?
“Oh, er, 2 minutes and 24 seconds.”
“That’s not enough. Y/N, they’ve noticed a breach in security and have armed guards patrolling. You need to get out now. We’re on our way.”
Shit. Could you not hold off for a few minutes? Your heart was racing now, your palms clammy with the thought of being caught. To be safe, you hid against the wall where the door was, that way if anyone looked in, they wouldn’t be able to see you.
You could hear several footsteps.
Your shoulders tensed, arms up and fists clenched should you need to fight.
“I er, zink it vas zis one, boss.”
“Well go on, what are you waiting for?”
Those voices weren’t familiar. Those voices were close. You heard a click of the door being opened but you sighed in relief when you realised it was the door opposite to yours.
“Zhere’s novun here.”
“No shit. Keep looking.”
The door closed and a few taps on the tiled floor. Your door clicked open.
“Look, novun again.”
“Jesus, Maksya, you haven’t even loo-”
You think your heart stopped when the ‘boss’ walked in. Shit. You weren’t an agent. You weren’t trained for this.
“Well, well, well. What is this?” Boss man walked over to the desk and with some expert swipes flipped the holoscreen around. “Download complete? What the fu-”
Now was your time. You launched forward at the boss and brought your right arm around his neck, securing it in place with your left. The other guy shouted in surprise and brought his gun, level to where you were. You swung the boss around, so he was being used as a human shield.
“Put the gun down.”
You had hoped your would have sounded a bit more threatening, but your dry throat made your voice crack. The gun man chuckled.
“Boss, it’s zat Reyes’ bitch. You know the vun that has been showing off all zat she has to offer all night?”
A sharp, unsuspecting jab to your ribs from the boss man made you let go, clutching your side. He grabbed your hair at the base of your scalp, crying out in pain, and kicked the back of your knees to make you fall down on the floor. Shit. Your hands clawed at the boss man’s hand in your hair.
“She’s feisty.” Boss man’s eyebrow raised. “Tie her up.”
Oh no. You weren’t going down without a fight. You eyed the guy with the gun like a hawk, until he went behind you. You heard the clunk of the gun being put on the desk, and then some rustling. Was he taking off his belt? Your arms were brought down behind you, you couldn’t move unless you wanted to rip out half off your hair. Your thoughts were confirmed when you felt leather digging in at your wrists, and then being cinched. The boss let go of you hair, only to be replaced by the other guy’s left hand, and feel of cold metal against your temple.
“Pretty. Hands behind her and on her knees. I can think of several ways to make her talk.”
The gun man cruelly laughed with his boss.
“Gatita, we got held up. Did you get out okay?”
You couldn’t reply. You couldn’t let these strangers know you had contact to the outside. You were supposed to be gone by now, not held hostage in a a stuffy office.
Your heart sank. It wasn’t rare for an agent to die in the field, but it did happen. You just never thought it would happen to you. Tears sprung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall. You weren’t an agent. End of.
“Now. We know you must be working for Overwatch, hmm?” Boss man stood in front of you, his hand clenched around your jaw to make you look up at him. “That you must be Reyes’ new whore, and got you to do the dirty work, hm?”
Your eyebrows creased into a frown. You weren’t going to talk. Feign ignorance. The metal pressed harder against your temple. This was it. A hard slap across the face sent you spinning. You were still held in place but your jaw hurt and you were sure your lip had been cut open. A sharp yank of your hair sent your head further back looking almost directly above you.
“If you’re not going to talk, then we’re going to have some fun.”
Boss man produced a knife from his back pocket. He brought the blade up to your face, your eyes widening as you were now being threatened by both a knife and a gun. You had always hated knives, even more than guns. There was something so.. personal about being threatened by a knife that had you shivering in fear.
“Oh boss, I zink she’s scared.” He chuckled again.
Boss brought the blade lightly down your right cheekbone, enough to cause pain and make beads of blood appear. He looked at you, almost as though he was questioning why you weren’t talking.
You heard your name again, but not just from the earpiece. They were running down the hallway, feet stomping on the ground.
Boss man grimaced and looked at his colleague. You were brought to your feet by a sharp yank of your hair, the gun now gone from your temple and given to boss man, pointing at you. The blade now pressing against your throat. The door slammed open. Both Reyes and Morrison had their guns already aimed, sweat beads on their foreheads.
“Let her go.”
“Or what, Reyes? You’ll shoot me?”
Clear as crystal. Their mocking tones made you think they have some kind of history.
“Fine. Maksya, let her go.”
As soon as the blade dropped from your neck and the hand left your hair, boss man had pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to be in slow motion: the pulled trigger, the bullet hitting you, Reyes and Morrison pulling their triggers on the boss. You fell back against the desk, sliding to the floor. You’d been shot. On your left side. Above your hip. You cried out in pain, tears finally falling from your closed eyes. Adrenaline took over and everything went numb. You heard footsteps come closer to you, and another gunshot. You daren’t open your eyes. Your hands were suddenly free and tried to cover your wound in vain. A slump to your right told you the other guy had been dealt with.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen, I am so sorry, so so sorry. Jack, we need Angela, we need to get Y/N to the ship, now.” The urgency in Reyes’ voice scared you. You tried to open your eyes but they were too heavy. Reyes was still talking to you, his voice becoming distant. He gingerly picked you up, bridal style. Your head leaned into him and your left hand fell down, finally giving into the darkness.
* * *
A bright light was all you could see through your eyelids. The sterile smell and clanging of metal on metal told you that you weren’t in heaven, but rather a hospital room. A faint repetitive beeping brought you fully out from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered open and your thoughts confirmed. Pristine white sheets, a metal tray with tools, an uncomfortable looking chair with a sleeping Reyes.
You looked more around the room. The window was open, and you could hear the crashing of the waves on the rocks below. Sunlight was streaming in, creating a warmth that you didn’t know that you needed.
“Ah! Y/N, you’re awake.”
Your eyes shifted over to the source of the voice: Doctor Angela Ziegla, alias Mercy. She was the resident doctor, Swiss, stern but incredibly friendly.
“Yes,” you smiled. “I suppose I am.” Your body was aching, and there was a dull throb on the left hand side of your waist.
“I managed to remove the bullet and heal you up fine. Healing from a bullet wound is a long process; it could take several weeks, even months. However, you should be back to normal in no time. You may have a scar om your cheek too.. but only time will tell. You were out for about 36 hours..”
You frowned at this. Upon seeing your reaction, Dr Ziegler stepped closer to you and reassuringly put her hand on your forearm.
“Gabriel hasn’t left your side. He’s been worried sick.”
You glance over to him, and can see the prominent dark rings around his eyes. His eyes that were now looking at you.
“L/N. You’re awake.” Reyes stood up next to angela, a slight frown crossing his face.
“No need for formalities here, Gabriel.”
“Of course, Angela. How are you feeling, Y/N?”
“Achy. Tired. Hungry.”
Both Dr Ziegler and Reyes chuckled at that.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone, and let you catch up.” Dr Ziegler smiled as she tool her hand back, picked up her clipboard and walked out of the room.
Reyes had moved the chair closer to your bed and sat back down in it. He picked your hand up and held it in his own.
“Gatita, I am so sorry.” His brows were furrowed.
“Please. It’s okay. Dr Ziegler said I’d heal fine and-”
“That’s not the point, I put you in danger!”
“Danger that we couldn’t expect to happ-”
“Y/N. I care about your safety. Hell, I care about you. Anyone could have delivered all those confirmations to Blackwatch, but I always asked for you.”
He still wasn’t looking at you. Your eyes moved from him to directly in front of you, taking in the bunch of pastel flowers that you had missed.
“Gabriel- may I?”
“Gabriel. No one could have guessed what would have happened the other night. No one. Don’t beat yourself up for it, because it looks like you have. You have panda eyes, you know that right?”
Reyes smiled but it quickly faded.
“Panda eyes are better than a bullet wound.”
“Very true. I don’t think any amount of cucumbers will help the bruise that I’ll get from being shot.” You started chuckling at your joke but then grabbed your side as the pain shot through you. Reyes half stood out of his chair, concerned.
“Do you need anything? I can bring back Angela?”
“No, thank you. I’ll live.” You grimaced.
“How about I teach you?”
“Teach me what?”
“How to really defend yourself. To shoot, to fight, to be an agent.”
“I.. I don’t know. Yes, it sounds exciting but..
“What about my job and well the way that I’m currently in?”
“You can teach someone and we’ll wait until you’re fully recovered.”
You think that Reyes has been planning this. Taking you on a mission, being taught basic combat. You just weren’t sure.
“Y/N, I promise you won’t get shot on every mission.”
“That’s if I accept.”
“You didn’t say no last time.” Reyes smirked.
God damn, Gabriel Reyes. He was going to be the death of you. You, however, didn’t mind one bit.
Normally, Dan and Phil don’t do anything special for Valentine’s Day. Going out to dinner just isn’t them, and they can get discount chocolates the next day. This year though, Dan has plans. Lately he’s seen the way the exhaustion and stress is weighing down Phil’s shoulders. For the first time in forever, Dan gets up first and runs out of the flat to get some things for the day. He makes pancakes and wakes Phil up with a kiss on the nose and the plate, alongside of roses.
“Dan, I thought we weren’t doing anything,” Phil complains sleepily, fumbling for his glasses.
Smiling, Dan cuts up a piece of pancake and feeds it to Phil. “Yeah, but it’s okay. I’ve got plans for you tonight, sweetheart.”
Oh, by all means, tho, write an au where everyone works in a library. Or maybe some of them work in a library, and the rest of them end up basically living there, and the ones who work there have to help them find everything and get books off the top shelf because Courfeyrac is too short for this nonsense, help him
turned out way sillier than I meant…)
closes at six. Javert’s first round is at seven, but he always starts with the
offices and outbuildings. He also walks rather slowly and makes a lot more
noise than he has to (or actually wants to) as a security guard. There’s a very
good reason for this, several actually. And yet, for all his efforts, two of those
reasons are making out against a bookcase when he finally reaches the first
reading room. Javert clears his throat pointedly.
and Combeferre yelp and break apart.
“What are you still doing here,” Javert
Combeferre says, slightly indignant. “I work
glares. He’s well aware of that and that makes this so much worse. He’s used to
the place being disrespected by the general public, that employees would do the
same is highly disgruntling.
me get a book off the top shelf?” Courfeyrac tries. He’s still out of breath
and his curly hair is standing almost straight up.
hours,” Javert admonishes. “And you’re disrespecting the library.”
looks genuinely insulted. There is never a book out of place around him. “I
would never-” he starts, but Courfeyrac interrupts with an impish smile:
“We are in the romance section.”
men bite their lips not to laugh in response to the look on Javert’s face. “Go
home,” he orders wearily and he walks on, shining his flashlight as far ahead
of him as it will go. This time his tactics work, because by the time he
reaches the language section, Feuilly is looking up from his book apologetically.
Javert says soberly. “Forgot the time again?”
he says. “Sorry, sir.”
sighs. “What is it tonight?” he asks.
modern standard,” Feuilly says, showing him the book.
nods. Feuilly isn’t a librarian, he’s a bookbinder. Part of the team that looks
after the older volumes in the collection. He has a key though and Javert knows
he has no time to study during normal work hours. “Don’t make it too late,” he
grunts, continuing on his way.
Feuilly assures him. When Javert turns the corner he lets out a breathy laugh.
“That was close,”
Bahorel hums, crawling out from under the table where he hid just in time.
hears the repressed laughter behind him, but he ignores it. He keeps walking
until he sees light shining behind another bookcase. A young, gentle voice is
murmuring words. Javert walks around the bookcase, lowering his flashlight.
the daughter of the library director, sits up from where she was lying with her
head in her boyfriend’s lap. “Good evening, Javert,” she says cheerfully, while
Marius flushes pink and then pale for a second, fumbling with the book he had
been reading to her.
father know you’re here?” Javert asks gravely. “…with him.”
Cosette smiles sweetly.
Javert sighs. He glares slightly at Marius, but if Valjean is okay with this,
Javert does not feel in a position to argue. He points his flashlight away from
them an turns around, but before he can leave Marius speaks up:
Javert, I mean sir, perhaps…you shouldn’t go into the philosophy section?”
back to face him and gives him a dark look. Marius smiles nervously, but
Cosette hums in agreement and adds brightly: “I think that is very good advice.
We…we can vouch for everything being safe and secure in the philosophy section.”
poetry section,” Marius adds hastily.
“And the poetry section,” Cosette nods
out a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. This is beyond the line of his
duty as a security guard surely. “Miss
Cosette,” he says. “Are you aware of exactly how many people are at this time
still in this library?” Cosette opens her mouth, but he raises his hand. “Don’t tell me,” he protests. He holds up
his arm and looks at his watch. “I will make my second full round of the premises in…two hours,” he says
deliberately. “Is that clear?”
Cosette says, smiling brilliantly.
nods, turns around and carefully chooses a route that does not only avoid the philosophy
and literature sections, but that also does not retrace his steps. Instead
Javert walks the grounds outside the library checking the windows and side
doors, not that anybody needs to
break in. Clearly.
“There wasn’t anyone I knew, I was prepared to lose in the pageant. I think it’s fate, 3 weeks before the competition no one knew who i am. Until Kelly Chen mentioned that she likes me and I became a hot favourite. Till today, it has been how fate lead me, to how things worked out”
Warnings: The usual mature content. Explicit smut, NSFW, alcohol, language. WC: 6024 On AO3Thank you @andromytta and happy bday!
PLEASE NOTE:Italics are flashbacks to the summer between parts 1 and 2
A/N: Recently for the first time I read YS. I hadn’t read it since posting each part and never in sequence. I found that since it wasn’t expected to be a series, I didn’t plan it like one. So I’m taking a good opportunity to show you what I never told you. Thank you readers, you’ve been amazing. This is NOT THE END OF THE SERIES. I will warn you when it is.
There were boxes everywhere. Every room. Every walkway. I’d forgotten how overwhelming moving could be. And I hated the madness of stuff everywhere.
Once we had returned home from our Christmas getaway John and I had spent a day on the couch watching movies and making out. But I wanted to get my apartment boxed up before New Year’s so John and I could start our new life. I just never realized how much shit I’d collected in my apartment over three years.
The whole world was going to be destroyed. Well, maybe you were exaggerating a bit. It wasn’t exactly the end of the world, but it was pretty close. You looked for your wallet everywhere, and here you were, in this alley way, wondering how your feet took you this far.
You just moved here a few weeks ago. Dragging your bags through the airport and boarding the plane wasn’t that hard of a choice. Back home, things weren’t ideal. Your family was too conservative and were stuck in their own ideas. And you wanted a different life. Being in a small town wasn’t something you imagined for yourself.
Spencer took your tray away and then delved into his wardrobe, taking out a suit and some boxes. He’d already showered before you’d awoke, his hair still slightly damp at the ends so you dragged yourself out of bed and headed into his bathroom.
You went about your business and then hopped in the shower, yelping as the spray hit your chest. You immediately turned the water pressure down and started washing yourself, remembering the last time you were in here and smiling to yourself.
You did seem to be spending a lot of time here in his bathroom this weekend.
When you finished you brushed your teeth and wrung your hair out, going back into his bedroom and blasting your hair with the hairdryer he’d left out, brushing it through so it dried straight.
Spencer hadn’t mentioned make up so you applied it lightly, mascara and eyeliner with a clear gloss on your lips and a light blush on your cheeks. You pulled your hair up and clipped it, almost fantasizing about being able to pull the clip out and shake your hair loose, the way you’d seen in movies or adverts.
You dressed, pulling on the stockings and underwear Spencer had specified and then buttoning the white shirt over the top, shimmying into the tight skirt and slipping into black patent heels you hardly ever wore. You completed the look with your thick black frames that you usually shunned in favour of contacts, although the prescription was so mild you rarely wore either.
Stepping back you checked yourself out in his mirror. Not bad. Not too porn starish but not too plain and demure either. Glancing over at your phone you saw it was three minutes past eleven.
Shit. You were late.
Exiting his bedroom and making your way down his hallway you saw he’d pushed his couch to one side and had dragged his dining table and his desk out into the centre of the room. The two tables were spaced a few meters apart, chairs positioned so that you would be facing each other. On the table was a stack of stationary and pens, along with a typewriter. On his desk was a laptop computer along with various other stationary. He sat behind his desk, tapping away at the keys.
He was dressed impeccably in a dark grey suit with a black shirt and a grey tie underneath. Although Spencer wore suits all the time for work, this was one you couldn’t recall seeing before. It was nice, different to his usual well worn style. Crisper.
He looked incredibly attractive to you right now.
Glancing up at you he fixed you with a cold stare, one he usually reserved for uncooperative suspects or unsubs.
“You’re late Ms Y/L/N. You were meant to start work four minutes ago.”
Cool clipped tones. Added to the intense look he was giving you and you felt like you were actually in trouble.
“I’m sorry Sir, there was… erm, traffic on the freeway.” Play along with the game Y/N.
“I told you the last time you were late that you needed to plan more efficiently. I cannot have my office unmanned. What if a client called in, I can’t be expected to answer my own phone. That would look extremely unprofessional.”
How was he not laughing at this? You wanted to guffaw and smirk, you feeling your lips twitching.
“Do you think this is funny Ms Y/L/N. Will you find it funny when I’ve docked your wages for wasting my time? Or shall I find some other way to discipline you? Perhaps a wage docking will not suffice.”
“Don’t just stand there wasting even more of my time. Apologise and get to work. The minutes from the last budget meeting need typing up. They’re on your desk.”
“I’m sorry Sir. It won’t happen again.”
“Make sure it doesn’t. I’m sick of your insolence. I will be forced to take action if it continues.”
“It won’t. I apologise.”
You slinked over to the table and sat in the chair, tucking yourself under the table. Spencer’s head was bent, his eyes following something on his laptop screen. What did you do now? You’d expected it to be very much of a ‘secretary enters the room, boss drops something onto the floor for you to pick up and then comments on your ass’ scenario. Were you actually going to have to work?
“I can’t hear any keys tapping Y/N. I need those minutes within the next hour. You’re already late.”
Okay. You WERE going to have to work.
You looked at the papers in front of you, spotting a lined note book with a label titled ‘minutes’. There was a folder on the table titled ‘previous meeting minutes’. You looked through it quickly, seeing the format that you were apparently to copy.
Alright, that wasn’t going to be too hard. You flipped through the notebook, finding the last entry in there and assuming those were the minutes you were to transcribe.
Threading a piece of paper into the type writer, you set the margins and began to type.
It had been years since you’d used one of these, you’d had a toy machine when you were a kid and as you typed, you could see how this would be the perfect machine for this game. Almost every fourth or fifth word you typed ended up with a mistake, you accidentally hitting the next key, or not applying enough pressure or applying too much.
After thirty minutes you were done. And it looked a mess.
You pulled it off the roller and surveyed it.
“Bring it here please, Ms Y/L/N.” You hadn’t realised Spencer had been watching you.
“Sir, it’s full of mistakes. I’ll do another one.”
“Bring it here,” he commanded, you jumping at the harshness of his tone.
Fuck me, that was hot.
You made your way across the floor and placed the paper on his desk.
He pulled out a red pen and started reading it, circling your every mistake before handing it back to you.
“Can you not read?” he asked, his face completely straight.
“Of course I can fu….Of course I can read,” you responded. You’d been about to curse and then remembered that a secretary wouldn’t dare curse at her boss.
“Then how hard is it for you to copy words from one paper to another? This is full of spelling mistakes and misprints. Do it again.”
“Yes Sir, sorry Sir.”
He crumpled up the piece of paper and tossed it into the wire bin by his feet.
“Ms Y/L/N. Tread very carefully. You truly are on your last strikes here.”
You walked back to the table and threaded a new piece of paper into the roller and began typing very carefully and very slowly, trying to avoid mistakes.
When you were halfway through, you hit the wrong key, cursing under your breath as you did so.
“What was that?” the voice was loud and clear across the room and he fixed you with a steely look as you tore the paper off the roller and discarded it into the bin.
“Nothing Sir,“ you replied, starting a new paper.
“I hope so. And do try to keep the wastage to a minimum please Ms Y/L/N.” He bent his head again, going back to whatever he was doing.
Halfway through your next attempt Spencer strolled across the room moving to stand behind you and watching over you as you attempted to type with precision.
Stupid fucking typewriter, there was a reason no one used them anymore.
Feeling his eyes on you as you ‘worked’ added extra pressure, extra excitement to the game, and you typed even slower wanting to get this right. Maybe you’d be rewarded if you did it well?
You felt a draft across the base of your neck, fingers barely touching you but causing your hairs to stand up on end and a shiver to run down your spine
“This one looks much better Y/N. I was worried I was going to have to discipline you if you made another mistake.”
His finger trailed slowly up and down the centre of your neck, making you still your movements on the keys.
“Shame….. Do carry on. I’m not preventing you from working am I?”
Yes. Yes he was. The soft touches to your neck were making you feel things, and you felt an ache in your chest as your still sensitive nipples hardened against the lace of of your bra.
“No sir, not at all.” You straightened your back and continued typing slowly. Spencer’s fingers danced across your throat, his hand moving to your front and slipping under the collar of the white shirt you were wearing, his fingertips grazing the tops of your breasts.
He moved so he was directly behind you, his hand slipping lower and fingering the lace material, toying with it and then moving his hand so he was cupping you over the fabric of your bra. He squeezed lightly and you jumped, cursing as you hit the key too hard causing the letter to smudge.
Spencer leant over inspecting the paper on the roll, his hand not leaving your chest as be placed his face alongside yours, his lips next to your ear.
“Well look at that Ms Y/L/N. A mistake.”
Yes that you caused, would have been your usual retort in any normal situation.
“I’m sorry Sir. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today.”
“And what about every other day? The amount of letters I have to send back to you because they’re wrong is ridiculous.”
He shifted his hand so that it was now inside the the cup of your bra, your hard bud pressing against the palm of his hand. He moved it back and forth ever so slightly.
“What was that Y/N? I didn’t hear you answer my question.”
“I’m sorry Sir. I don’t know why I’m so terrible recently.”
He dragged his hand back up and out of your shirt, his fingers parting as they moved over your nipple, catching it between them. You moaned quietly at the sensation and then at the loss of contact.
“Start again. You have one last attempt. If it’s not perfect this next time, I will take you over my desk and punish you for every mistake you’ve made. Perhaps then you’ll learn to associate mistakes with punishment and you won’t make them. Understood.”
Spencer walked back to desk again and sat down. This time he placed his elbows on the desk, leaning his head on his hands and watching you.
You started again with a new piece of paper.
How many mistakes did you make here?
You decided to just type naturally and not force them. With this stupid machine you were bound to make some. You typed quickly, almost ripping the paper from the roll when you were done and sauntering across to his desk confidently, your hips swaying as you walked. You handed him the paper.
Uncapping his red pen, he began to mark, your eyes widening when you realised how many there were.
Had your subconscious made you add more in that you’d thought?
“This is worse than the first effort Y/N.” His eyes were cold, his gaze unflinching.
“Is it? Please forgive me Sir. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”
“Yes you will. Because next time you’ll remember what happens if you submit a piece of work this shoddy to me again.”
He turned the paper and placed it on the desk in front of you.
“Pull up your skirt so that it’s around your waist and pull down your underwear. Then put your arms on the desk and bend over it.”
You did as he instructed, dropping your french knickers to your ankles.
Spencer reached into a drawer on the side of the desk and pulled out a small wooden paddle. It looked like a hairbrush but without the bristles. Straightening his tie he stood and walked around the desk until he was behind you.
He was quiet for a few moments and you could feel his eyes on you, admiring the way your bare butt and legs looked in the stockings he’d told you to wear.
“What’s the first mistake, Y/N?” he asked, his voice low and quiet, almost a whisper.
Your eyes scanned the page finding the first red mark.
“An underscore where there should be a dash.”
A rush of wind and then a sharp smack on your left cheek, accompanied by a loud whack,
The sting wasn’t quite as severe as the first time he’d hit you weeks ago, perhaps because he was using the paddle instead.
“And the next one?”
“I haven’t capitalised a name.”
A smack to your other cheek, a small intake of breath from you this time.
“A misspelt word.”
“What’s the word?” he demanded to know.
“How have you spelt it?”
“B - ”
His hand this time rather than the paddle. You bit your lip.
“F - ”
Fuck… The other cheek and still with his hand, the tops of your thighs being pushed against the lip of the desk.
Back to the paddle.
“E - ”
The paddle again, but softer; barely registering a hit.
Harder this time and slightly lower on the cheek, again making you knock into the edge of the desk, the wood biting against your thighs.
“Carry on. Read out every mistake until you get the to the end,” Spencer demanded, his voice slightly breathy.
You read through the whole sheet, the smacks coming faster as you weren’t breaking for further instructions. Every misspell, every time you announced a misprint or a smudge, a comma where there should be a full stop, or a lower case letter where there should be a capital. Every mistake was met with a smack. Some hard, some softer. Some with the wooden implement, others with his warm hand, the sound of flesh hitting flesh music to your ears. Some times you cried out, other times you bit your lip.
By the time you reached the bottom of the sheet your ass felt like it was on fire. Glorious, hot, fire. Every spank had thrust your body forwards and as you slid it backwards, your breasts dragged against the wooden table.
The attack on your buttocks and the wooden desk against your nipples had you wet, liquid slowly leaking out from between your legs.
You both were panting as you read out the last few errors, your eyes squeezing shut at a particularly forceful smack, your teeth gritted as you choked out the final error.
“Another comma where it should be a stop.”
The sting you now felt was unbelievable and you stared at the wall in front of you, breathing heavily and quickly. You heard a thud as the paddle was released from Spencer’s grasp, feeling both of his hands on your buttocks, palming them, his own breathing ragged.
“Have you learnt your lesson?”
“I t-think so…. sir…. ”
Fuck, you could barely speak.
“Then you’re free to leave for the day. Exit the way you entered.”
You felt him retreat from your body giving you room to stand your self upright again.
You pulled your skirt down and stepped out of your underwear, leaving them on the floor rather than bending down to retrieve them.
The panting had made you feel light headed, so you stood for a second before collecting your thoughts.
Ok, but all this time Julian is spending at STAR Labs instead of CCPD must come to Captain Singh’s notice at some point, right?
One day, Captain Singh walks into the lab to ask the CSIs some question about a case. He looks first at Barry’s desk out of habit but Barry’s not there as usual so he turns his head to talk to Julian only to realize that Julian is not at his desk either. This is the first time CSI metahuman specialist Julian Albert is showing a lack of discipline at work and Singh is worried that something’s wrong with the Brit.
Name: Sorry, professor, not today Pairing: Snape x reader (maybe, I guess) Summary: the reader follow Potter, Granger, and Weasley to the Shrieking Shack. After the three idiots leave (seriously, they didn’t even use magic to save Snape), the reader gets in and does her best to save Snape.
“Harry, let’s go,” you see Potter leave with Snape’s memories in a bottle, leaving the professor on the floor. You slowly walk in the room, looking around, quite afraid of Voldemort coming back.
“Professor? Professor Snape?” you kneel next to him, checking the pulse with your fingers and feeling the slow, almost absent heartbeat. Happy about taking extra classes including the first aid, you quickly manage to stop the bleeding and put the bandage on (made of your own shirt), then use the most popular spells, realizing that Ferula still works, but you keep the hand-made bandage on. Among other you try Vulnera Sanentur (you heard of it from Hermione when she was leaving main instruction for you), but it doesn’t do much. “Professor Snape?”
“I was poisoned, Y/L/N,” you hear Snape whisper (you can hardly hear him). “Do you have an antidote?”
“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” blessing your idea of bringing potions with you wherever you go, you start looking for something that could help and, a minute later, you get the bezoar to push it down Snape’s throat a second later. “Blood-Replenishing Potion?” he doesn’t say anything, so you keep making him take about five other potions, hoping that at least one may help him get well enough to get to his chambers and (hopefully) say what he needs to survive. The battle is still quiet, so you just stay with Snape, carefully putting his head on your jacket and unbuttoning the top of his shirt to make sure you have the access to the wound if anything happens. Time slowly flows away, so you, exhausted after the long battle and helping the hurt people after that, close your eyes and fall into something between sleep and unconsciousness, your hands still on Snape’s neck, securing the bandage.
“Don’t you have friends to take care of?” you suddenly hear Snape’s quiet voice, so you open your eyes, staring at the pale as snow man, trying to sit up.
“Snape?” you scream so loudly, he frowns.
“Yes, Y/L/N. Professor Snape. You tried to poison me, but that didn’t really work… Give me your bag,” you silently hand him your bag with potions, staring at Snape, as he quickly looks through the bottles, shaking and almost fainting every second. “Don’t you have bezoar?”
“I gave it to you, sir.”
“Right,” he sighs. “Why are you here? I’m supposed to be dead.”
“Sorry, professor, not today,” you grin. “I just knew you shouldn’t die.”
“You are not Slytherin, are you?” Snape frowns. “Fine then… You have to get me to my lab, I have the antidote there.”
“You do?” before he answers anything sarcastic, you nod and obediently help him up, holding his shoulder with both hands, trying to keep him straight. “Right… How are you not dying yet?”
“Miss, bring me first back to life, won’t you?” Snape answers calmly, hardly breathing. “Just so that you know… I may die… Right now…”
“Nope, not happening. You still haven’t checked my essay on potions and werewolves,” you keep blabbing, trying to make Snape listen to you, knowing that if he falls asleep, nothing will help you bring him back again. The sudden choking sound identifies as Snape’s laugher (also affected by the presence of blood in his throat). “Ok, hold on. Just a little more.”
“You are an optimist, aren’t you? You did put the painkilling potion in me, but you must realize that it won’t stop me from dying.”
“No one else is dying tonight. I am tired of losing people,” you inform him coldly, and Snape shuts up, realizing that you won’t just drop him in the middle of the castle and run away. Simply because there is nowhere else to go. “So shut up, professor, and just let’s get you in the lab.”
Could you do one of Levi x chubby! reader where the reader is usually happy and positive until someone says they are unfit to be in the survey corps and and the reader runs off and cries and Levi defends them and then Levi goes to comfort them and it's all nice and fluffy! Thanks! ❤️❤️
Paring: Levi x chubby!Reader
Word count: 769
Author’s note: you are beautiful just the way you are! Don’t let other people’s opinions change who you are or what you look like. Be happy with yourself whatever size, race, sexuality, religion you are! Love you guys!!
You knew that you weren’t as thin as all the other cadets in the survey corps. You looked at people like Mikasa and Eren and admired their thin figure. Still, your structure never got in your way. Your fighting was absolutely exceptional with your quick reflexes and strong hits. Your 3DM gear always lifted you up with ease, as if you were a feather floating in the air.
And last but not least, your confidence was through the roof. Nothing ever bothered you about yourself. You had a lot of body love!
That was until Reiner decided to ruin that all.
It was a beautiful day and everyone was outside trying to soak up as much sunshine as they could, before training started again. You were nicely sat under a tree, reading one of your favourite books. You were never fond of the sunshine, however you weren’t going to waste this day inside.
Across the courtyard, Levi Ackerman was doing the same thing. Except he wasn’t reading a book, he was looking at you. He always wondered what was going on inside you head. He wondered if you heard the whispers and the giggles of people as you walked past them. He wondered if you cared.
Suddenly, Eren shouted at the top of his lungs “HEY EVERYONE, LET’S GO JUMP IN THE LAKE!” Almost everybody, got up and started to strip, leaving their undergarments on as swimwear. You looked around and decided to strip too. Jumping into the lake sounded fun, so you were all in.
As you were taking your top off, Reiner came up to you, a big smirk plastered onto his face. Levi watched closely. Although he couldn’t hear the conversation, he sensed trouble from a mile away.
“Y/n, you’re not getting in are you?” Reiner said, as he looked you up and down. You continued to remove your clothes, not realising what he meant. “Uhh, yeah I thought it would be fun to just go for a dip, what about you?” You asked, your voice laced with joy.
“Of course I am, I’ve got a good and healthy body, unlike someone I know!” He evilly chuckled. You stopped. You finally got what he was implying and felt yourself covering your body.
Still, you decided to play dumb. Maybe you’re not who he’s talking about!
“And who’s that?” You said quietly.
“You obviously!” He laughed loudly, causing nearby people to look in your direction “I mean seriously, you need to lose some weight!”
As Reiner continued to laugh, you felt your eyes fill up with tears. You felt so ashamed and so self conscious. You just wanted the ground to swallow you whole. Levi felt the anger boil up inside of him as he saw you break down. No one deserved to be treated the way you were.
He saw you grab your clothing and quickly jog inside. That’s when Levi got up and started to followed you. However, he stopped halfway when he remembered he had unfinished business.
“Oi Reiner” He shouted across the courtyard. At Levi’s loud voice, Reiner instantly stopped laughing. Levi slowly walked over and grabbed Reiner by the ear. “If I ever catch you, making fun of Y/n ever again, I swear I will work you so goddamn hard, you will drop to your knees, understand?”
Trembling, Reiner replied “Yes sir, sorry sir”
Levi let go of of his ear and gave him one last death glare, before turning around and searching for where you had gone. You weren’t that hard to find to be honest. It was the first place Levi looked and that’s where you were. It was in the big corridor, on the second windowsill. You always sat there whenever you felt down or needed to think.
When he had found you, he stopped and breathed in heavily. Levi wasn’t good with these type of situations however he felt he needed to. He coughed to get your attention. When you saw him, you quickly wiped your tears away.
“Hey Captain!” you said standing up “Sorry, I know you don’t like me sitting on there”
“It’s okay Y/n, you don’t have to pretend that you’re happy, I saw what happened with Reiner”
Instantly, your face dropped “Oh, and you agree with him I’m guessing?”
Levi furrowed his eyebrows “What, no!” He quickly walked towards you and gently grabbed your face “I think you’re the most beautiful, most smartest person in the whole world and you shouldn’t let anybody tell you differently!”
By this time you were crying your eyes out, but instead of sad tears, they were happy tears.
jacob is the leader of a gang and troyes his personal pet and troye get in trouble & you make up the rest ((;
-Troye sat on the floor at Jacob’s feet, staring at his hands. He could hear Jacob and another man yelling back and forth above him, but he did not try to listen in. Instead the sub was thinking about what would happen once the man left. There was a reason the two men were yelling, and it was making him more and more nervous as the minutes went by. He had caused this. He knew Jacob was pissed at him, he knew he would pay for it.
-Now, Troye was usually good for his master. He would sit at his master’s feet and stay in the office, but that day he had just felt rather bored. Troye had wandered when Jacob was in a meeting, and he had talked to one of the new employees. Not only that, but he may have tried to seduce him. Not that he would actually sleep with the man, but he did want to get him rather flustered before he was sent back to work.
-Even though the man was new and did not know how to act around Troye, Jacob was not an easy man to get along with. If you pissed him off, he let you know. You were lucky if you made it out alive, especially when it involved Troye.
-“You’re fucking lucky that you are walking out of here,” Jacob growled, sitting down in his chair and jerking on the chain leash that was attached to Troye’s collar, dragging him up into his lap. “I never want to see your face again. Get the fuck out.”
-With that the man scurried out, closing the door behind him. Troye still did not speak, staring at the ground. “So, slut, what do you have to say for yourself?”
-“I’m sorry master,” Troye said. “I did not mean to make you mad.”
-“You didn’t mean to make me mad?” Jacob repeated. He scoffed. “Do you not know the rules?”
-“Yes sir, I do. I’m sorry.”
-“You should be sorry. Why would you disrespect me like that? Are you trying to get a new master? Am I not good enough for you?”
-Troye whimpered, quickly shaking his head no. “No, you’re perfect and I do respect you and-”
-“Enough. So tell me pet, what happens to little whores that walked around dressed like you are and try to seduce men while their masters are right downstairs?”
-Troye sniffled. “They get punished.”
-Jacob nodded. “That’s right. Now, get over my knee. I can’t let you get away with this sort of behavior. It is dangerous and disrespectful, and I truly expected more from you, pet.” Troye silently shifted so he was laying over Jacob’s thighs, not missing the gun in the man’s holster. The ex employee sure got lucky: if jacob was less mad at Troye and more focused on the task at hand, that man would most likely be dead.
-Troye was wearing nothing more than pastel purple thigh highs, pink cotton panties and a thick pink collar, so all Jacob needed to do was pull the subs underwear down and he could see everything he owned. So that’s what he did: he pulled the panties down Troye’s legs, throwing them to the floor. He looked at the boy and smirked, resting one hand on Troye’s ass and beginning to rub gentle circles into his soft skin. “I want you to count and tank me each time,” Jacob said. “You miss one, we will start again. Do not think this is your only punishment, you will be disappointed it you do.”
-Troye nodded, gritting his teeth as he waited for the first hit. Jacob’s hand came down harshly. Troye gasped and jolted forward, yelping out “one! Thank you master.” Jacob paused before spanking the sub again, giving him a moment to anticipate. “Two! Thank you, m-master.”
-Ten later, Troye had tears streaming down his face. He jolted around with every spank, his counting either near-screams or nothing more than whimpers. Jacob was not going easy on him - then again, if the submissive got in trouble, Jacob never held back from giving him what he deserved.
-“Fourteen, fifteen! Thankyoumaster!”
-“You did good,” Jacob said, gently rubbing Troye’s reddened skin. “Now, bend over my desk.”
-Troye’s ocean coloured eyes widened, but he scrambled to do what he had been told. He heard Jacob pull open a drawer, and rustle around some papers before pulling a bottle out and opening it.
-Jacob poured some of the liquid onto his fingers and warmed it up before pulling the buttplug that Troye had in out of his already stretched and prepped hole and replacing it with his fingers. He jutted three of them in and out of Troye a few times to make sure that he was ready before before applying the last of the lube to his own member. He didn’t bother to warn Troye before plowing into him, the bottom choking back a moan at the stretch.
-Troye was not allowed to be loud when Jacob used him, unless if it was requested. Troye gripped the edges of the desk and clenched his teeth as Jacob fucked him fast and hard. His breathing was heavy and tears still streamed down his face as Jacob abused his hole, his ass still stinging as Jacob’s hips rocked against it.
-The gang leader reached for something, not slowing the pace he was fucking his pet in the slightest. Troye gasped as he felt something cold press up against his neck. He glanced over slightly, jaw clenching when he realized it was a gun. “Who’s pet are you?” Jacob asked, yanking on Troye’s hair so he was forced to look into the man’s hazel eyes.
-“Who owns your body?”
-“Who gets to see your body?”
-“And I am master, correct?”
-“Yes sir! I’m sorry sir!”
-“Do bad little whores like you deserve to cum?”
-“That’s right. Don’t. Fucking. Cum.”
-Troye whimpered but nodded, trying to relax against the hard surface of the desk. He tried to ignore Jacob pounding into him, but it crew increasingly harder as Jacob thrusted directly into his prostate. “Daddyyyyyy,” he whined, only to have the gun pressed harder against his neck.
-Moments later Jacob pulled out and pulled Troye’s small body off of the desk, forcing him to the ground. Jacob wrapped his hand - which was littered with tattoos - around his cock, quickly starting to jerk himself off. Troye blinked up at him with teary lashes, opening his mouth like he usually did.
-“No,” Jacob said, setting the gun on the desk. “Shut your mouth. You don’t deserve to taste me like that.” Troye nodded with a sniffle, slowly closing his mouth. He sat and looked pretty, Jacob’s load soon hitting his face. Semen dripped from Troye’s lips, but he did not dare lick it up.
-“You look good all covered in my cum,” Jacob said with a smirk, pulling his own pants back up and tucking his shirt back in. “So, you can stay like that. I want you to go sit over there and stay there until I say otherwise.”
-Troye limped over to the spot Jacob had pointed to, sitting down and shifting so his weight didn’t all sit on his ass. He spread his legs so there wouldn’t be any pressure on his erection, and that’s how he sat. A few minutes later, the door opened. Troye avoided eye contact with everyone as the man and Jacob talked, the blush on his cheeks matching the red flowers beside the couch.
-Throughout the day, Troye continued to sit with his legs spread as Jacob’s employees walked in and out, some giving him odd looks and others not even paying him notice. For the sub that was spread out for everyone to see, this was going to be a long, long day.