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watevermelon · 4 years

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Touch-Averse | Kiyoomi Sakusa x Reader

✧ Summary: Physical affection was something you loved, and while Sakusa was not exactly the biggest fan, you didn’t want to encroach on him. You weren’t expecting your boyfriend to get jealous!

➳ A/N: Hey! This has been waiting around for so long; I think I steered a little too into the angst with this one asfdgfhj ;-; ➳ Tags: Angst with a happy ending, komori is a lil shit; ➳ Masterlist

—xXxXxXxXxXx—

By all intents and purposes, Sakusa was the perfect boyfriend.

You were friends before through Komori since junior high and one thing led to another before the wing-spiker finally asked you out. You knew long before as his friend that he was averse to physical contact — even if it was under two layers of gloves.

No, the germaphobe kept everyone at a distance further from arms length. He wanted to keep things neat and orderly and straying from that made him uncomfortable.

And it warmed your heart that, despite this life-long struggle, Sakusa still let you into his world in little ways.

He would hold your hand through the halls of school (of course, you had to thoroughly wash your hands first and then get his personal approval). And, on lucky days like when Itachiyama won their practice matches that week, Sakusa would kiss you on the forehead openly in public.

All you had to do was vocalize things, keep the roads of communication between you two and he would respond. If you wanted to come over to his family home or vice versa — just let him know ahead of time and he would be happy to accommodate you. You want to go on a date to the arcade? Sure, send him a text and he’ll pencil you in for a couple days from now. A part of you also liked wearing his sweaters, the ones that plastered his last-name across the back. And on request, Sakusa let you wear his own to school.

Sakusa was generally aware of your needs and was not against being vocal about your relationship. You knew all about this prior to being his official girlfriend and had even found it endearing how much he cared about your personal health.

All it took was a look.

A single look was enough to plant the seed of doubt and make it take root.

It was after volleyball practice — you had stayed behind after your student council duties and went over to the courts instead of heading straight back to the dorms. You hadn’t told Sakusa before that you would be visiting, just popping in so you can walk back together.

You waved at the others, Komori noticing you first from the sidelines and greeting you. Some others from the team took notice beside him and recognized you from being friends with the second-years.

Between the break, you approached Sakusa’s pack where you knew he would go, happy to greet him.

He shot you the most disgusted look you had ever seen.

After, Sakusa had greeted you in his usual monotone voice. Voice clipped and simply drinking his water, Sakusa was there for a quick minute before returning back to the match without so much as a goodbye.

Your walk back to the dorms was eerily silent.

It could have been nothing, just a look that he always had in his resting judgmental grandma face. But for some reason it stuck to you, how mean his tone was towards his girlfriend of all people and how quick he was to get away from you after.

You tried to wave it off, give him the benefit of the doubt as you lay awake in your dorm room. Not saying anything to your roommate, you internalized most of your feelings and let it continue to fester below the surface.

He already didn’t like physical touch with you. But you had just greeted him, hardly pushing into his comfortable space. But even so, it was clear Sakusa had still been disgusted with you.

Was this what he really thought about you?

You tried your best to wave it off — maybe he wasn’t feeling too well that day? Maybe the match was annoying him? Maybe something just happened with his other teammates?

And so the next day after you were done with your extracurriculars, you dropped by the gym again just to see how Sakusa was doing.

Sakusa was quick to find in the crowd of boys, his tall height and curly black hair bobbing along as he readied to jump in the air. Seeing him spike, hearing the smack of power as it slammed into the floor, it always made you so proud at how fair he had come.

That moment didn’t last long.

No, it was pushed out by another emotion entirely.

The coach called the players on the opposite side, ringing them in to give some tips to them specifically. Sakusa’s side backed off to grab drinks of their water, the main manager running up to him with a towel in hand.

And Sakusa let her wipe at his face.

A small dab at his forehead and at the sides of his face and the moment was over. But that was not what you saw. You saw your boyfriend, your long-term friend, allow someone in his close space to touch his face of all things! You still had to wear gloves sometimes. And here she was, noses only inches away from one another, as she was allowed into his world.

What was it that made you so undesirable?

Was Sakusa annoyed with you? Had you been asking too much of him? You knew he was averse to the things you liked, but you never thought that it would push Sakusa away to this point.

You loved Sakusa and you had tried really hard to accommodate what he was looking for in a relationship. But was that really fair? Was he being fair to you at this point? Did he even view you as anything special, as his girlfriend?

Walking out the gym without a single word, you turned around with all intents to go back to your room and reevaluate your decisions. You failed to notice Komori’s wandering eyes that followed you out the open doors.

Your roommate commented that you looked terrible that night and was a willing open ear for you. You were grateful beyond compare, she was an awesome friend that you shared classes with and was alsoa member in the student council.

But instead of venting, you just relished in the tight hug she gave you. This physical touch was what you crazed and, while it had never really affected you before, it made you sad that this was something Sakusa would never want.

Was it really fair to have to schedule a hug with him?

Did he even want you as his girlfriend?

You internalized this hard and the it was hard to even look at Sakusa the next day at school, these thoughts only propping up again and again. What hurt even more is that you were actively avoiding the wing-spiker and it seemed that he did not even notice. Just went about his day, avoiding most people and sticking to corners alone.

But you were his girlfriend. He avoided most people but should that really include you?

Did he feel like you were suffocating him? You loved him and didn’t want to lose him. And so if he wanted space, you were willing to give it to him. But for Sakusa to treat you so cruelly when you were trying so hard - was it even fair at this point?

A text-tone from your phone permeated the room and you felt your spirits almost physically lift themselves up at the prospect of Sakusa reaching out to you.

But his text only made your heart drop.

Give me back my sweater already. Sakusa’s words read, Don’t you have your own?

And suddenly your thoughts of doubt were solidified as fact in your mind.

Grabbing the sweater from your bedside, you almost cried as you folded it up. Sakusa’s terms of endearment were few and far between, you wearing his sweater was one of the few things you could compromise on. And now he did not even want that.

You went about your morning weakly, going into Sakusa’s homeroom and leaving the sweater in a bag there. Alongside it was only a small note that you did not have time to wash it while it was in the bag. You did not wait a moment longer, dropping off the package and hoping to avoid him the rest of the day.

And throughout the school hours, you were doing a good job. During lunch you were able to avoid spending time with both Sakusa and Komori, leaving your classroom the moment the teacher dismissed you and retreating to the outside area behind school. Would it do you any good to confront Sakusa over something that he probably did not even care about? Was he planning on breaking up with you?

These thoughts only continued to plague you throughout the day and the more you continued to ponder on it - the worse it got. Maybe he always viewed you this way, just humoring your relationship for the sake of your friendship.

Your mindset spiraled downward worse and worse and you had little initiative to even go to club activities after school. Your roommate had vouched for you at the student council meeting while you went back to the dorms depressed and very not well dressed.

The moment your phone dinged to life you shot up in repressed excitement, wondering if Sakusa had noticed your mood and reached out.

It was Komori.

Hey, missed ya during lunch. Wanna catch dinner together?

Of course, it was Komori.

You wondered for a hot second if it would be smart to go with the libero out to dinners the campus cafeteria. Odds are you were going to pour your feelings out to the boy and he was undoubtedly loyal to Sakusa. Komori was always one of your closest friends, even before dating the wing-spiker.

Another ding ringed out a second later.

Come on, you’re my friend too.

It was almost like he was reading your mind - the poor boy was probably so used to your evasiveness from before that it was no doubt he remembered it.

You typed back, Okay, I’ll meet you after practice.

See you then <3

You texted your roommate that you would be meeting with the libero, so as not to worry when she returned. In the meantime, you hung around your room and completed some of your homework early. Once Komori texted you that he was ready, you put on a large hoodie and some leggings, trying your best to look presentable despite your solemn expression.

“Hey!” Komori perked up when he saw you, already at a table in the cafeteria. Thankfully he was sitting alone. The moment you were close enough, Komori pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

Komori always gave the best hugs and you squeezed your arms around his middle right back. It had been a while since he, or any male for that matter hugged you like this. Most of the male population at school was well aware of your relationship with Sakusa and all it took was a look from the strong spiker to get most to back off.

But with Komori being his best friend and also one of yours, he was one of the few people who could get away with sharing you in a warm embrace. However, you did notice as of late that he was withholding some of the best hugs from you.

“Thanks for joining me tonight.” Komori continued, leaning back while you were still in his arms. “I know you’ve been kind of down.”

“Yeah.”

“Listen, you can tell me anything or nothing if you want. Whatever you’re comfortable with - I just wanted to spend this time with you so you know you’re not alone.”

You almost teared up on the spot, with the exception of your roommate, it had been so long since someone had been so considerate with your feelings. Komori was the best bro and just all friend anyone could ask for.

Nuzzling further into his chest, you shakily replied. “You’re the best, Komori.”

Komori guided you to the seats, telling you that he had actually placed a comfort food order and was waiting for the number to be called. You smiled at him in response, placing your hands on the table and mentally preparing for what you wanted to say.

It felt almost therapeutic, admitting to the libero all the feelings that you had bottled up over the past few days. Komori nodded along, listening to you without cutting in or interrupting with his own point of view. He took in every word, keen on gaining your perspective before he added on.

“It makes me wonder, does Sakusa even want to be in this relationship?” You asked aloud, baring your insecurity to him.

Little did you know that Sakusa was reacting exactly opposite to what you were thinking.

Komori had actually invited the wing-spiker to join this dinner, but he had simply walked away in silence back to his own dorm.

Sakusa would never admit this aloud, but he cherished you in so many ways that it frightened him. Your relationship was built on years of knowing each other. And from the beginning of it all, Sakusa knew that he was all in. From high school to the end of your days, he was sure that this was the only relationship he wanted to ever be in. You were the first and only person he ever loved and he wanted to be that for you too.

And with that thought, Sakusa had always been afraid of losing you. He wondered, on multiple occasions, if you would be happier with someone else. After all, yes you were friends for a while, but you were much closer to Komori before you were in a relationship.

Sakusa saw it all - he knew how you leaned into the libero for tight hugs and how the both of you were still fond of spending time alone together. He had never doubted you or his cousin’s loyalty; neither you nor Komori would ever do anything to hurt him, Sakusa was sure. But he had a much more looming fear, one that frightened him simply because it was probably true, that you would probably be happier with Komori.

The libero was capable of easily reading your mood and reacting to it properly. It was Komori after all that noticed you had left the gymnasium the other day without greeting either male. He was very in-tune to your personality and it seemed the both of you were very agreeable. Sakusa remembered the time that many of your classmates had thought it was you and Komori dating after all.

Sakusa would honestly never forget that.

And so the wing-spiker had thought on multiple occasions if you would be happier in the arms of another. Maybe someone who had more time for you, who liked being as affectionate as you did.

Admittedly, Sakusa knew something was off from the moment you returned the sweater. He knew that you cherished wearing it for some reason. But you had it over a week and it was time for him to wash it. After all, it must have been dirty from overuse at this point and he did not want you possibly getting sick from something he wore.

Besides, he could just lend you another cleaner sweater for you to wear.

This was simply the way he thought - cut and dry and oftentimes misconstrued by other people.

But the last person he ever wanted to hurt was you.

Sucking in a hard breath, Sakusa attempted to figure out what to say. Not that he was unsure what to get across, but that he wanted to get out the proper wording before he caused any true damage to you. He must have been standing in the middle of his dorm room for a good twenty minutes, trying to keep a level head as different phrases evaded him.

Calm and collected, he told himself as he got near the cafeteria.

The last thing he wanted to ever see greeted him - you and Komori standing alongside a cafeteria table, you in his arms as he held you tightly.

It seemed you were still in the middle of your meal, your trays of food still stacked with chopsticks to the side. Regardless of the situation, Sakusa stalked over quietly and made his presence extremely known.

From Komori’s nice hug to suddenly pulled into another, your ten seconds of panic morphed into surprise at seeing your boyfriend.

“Sakusa!” You exclaimed, head against his chest as he continued to stare down his cousin. “This looks bad, but I was just talking to Komori about something.”

Komori only laughed, picking up his tray and taking it with him elsewhere. “See you tomorrow, lovebirds.”

“I--” You stuttered over your words as the libero made his quick escape, “We were in the middle of a meal!”

“We need to talk.”

Wait.

Was Sakusa breaking up with you right now?

You felt fresh tears break your visage as you asked him outright, “Are you breaking up with me?”

Sakusa recoiled before grabbing your hand, “No. Let’s go.”

You allowed him to drag you wordlessly, following along as he led you back to his dorm. He unceremoniously brought you along with him - was he sparing your feelings by breaking up with you away from the public eye?

The worries must have shown up on your face since, once you entered the elevator, Sakusa took one look at you before pulling you into his embrace again. He lingered for a second, as if unsure where to place himself, then leaned down to put a small mask-covered kiss on your forehead. You stilled at the motion, surprised that he was willing to show any display of affection in public.

The moment was only broken when he pulled you toward his dorm room, closing it loudly behind you.

“Why would you think that I would want to break up with you?” Sakusa asked, not at all sugar-coating his words.

You hesitated, looking at the ground before back at him. “Sakusa, are you even happy being with me?”

His eyes peeking over the mask widened in surprise. In the next second, Sakusa pulled his mask off and threw it in the direction of his trash bin. You took a step back at his aggressiveness, but he only followed the movement and wrapped an arm around your waist.

Sakusa pulled you against him and stated clearly, “I want to be with you forever, if given the chance.”

“Really?”

He did not hesitate in response, “Yes.”

You smiled at how sure he was, but his actions from the last few days still had you on edge. With a hand on his chest, you bit your lip before asking. “You don’t feel like I’m suffocating you?”

Sakusa angled his head in question before shooting back, “Why would you assume that?”

“I just feel like you don’t really want me around?” You admitted, words coming out slowly. “I mean, the other day you just seemed like you didn’t want me at your practice. And then I saw your manager dabbing you with the towel and even I can’t even hug you without warning.”

Sakusa simply stared at you as you spoke, his full attention to your words as he recalled the past few days.

“I like spending time with you, but at practice I was sweaty and you were still in your school uniform. It would be unfair to you if I was the one to sully it.” Sakusa replied, “While I am not close to the manager, handling the towels is one of her responsibilities. And I prefer to get toweled down rather than do it myself then touch the volleyball with sweaty hands.”

“Oh.”

You were at a loss for words once he explained himself.

“What about the other day?” You recalled, “I get that you don’t like me wearing your sweaters, but you should have just told me outright.”

You were not expecting Sakusa to shoot you a tired smile.

He moved to kiss your forehead again, lips lingering above your brow before he spoke. “I like seeing you in my sweaters. It reminds everyone that you’re mine.”

“What?”

“But you had that sweater for more than five days, right?” Sakusa answered with a question, “I have the proper detergent to clean it. It would do you no good if you got dirty or even sick from one of my articles of clothing.”

“Oh.”

You were an idiot.

An overthinking, doubtful, big dumb idiot.

You felt the small exhale against his chest, tantamount to a small laugh from Sakusa. “Oh?”

“I just--” You tried to articulate yourself, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” You admitted, “There are just these moments. I know you don’t like physical touch that much, but there are times I want to hug you or kiss you. And I get the feeling that you don’t like it.”

You heard Sakusa exhale above you, before feeling a slight nudging at your chin. Using his free hand, the wing-spiker was guiding your gaze back to him. He had an oddly fond expression on, before he leaned forward to slot your lips against his.

Leaning forward into the kiss, you carded your fingers in his curly mop of hair, arms crossed behind his neck. He pulled you as close as possible, lingering in the moment of your passionate lip-lock before settling you back down on your feet.

“I love kissing you.” Sakusa stated fondly, eyes still glued to yours.

You laughed breathlessly, “I know that now.”

“Good.” Sakusa replied, “I’m not good at these things. I can’t comfort you like others do, but please trust in me. Communicate with me - not your roommate and not Komori.”

“Okay. I’m sorry that I closed myself off.” You apologized, receiving a second kiss back.

You were caught off-guard, like the hesitation Sakusa had before was suddenly lifted from its floodgates. He pecked you one, twice, returning over and over as he lost himself in the feel of your lips against his.

“I have two newly cleaned sweaters for you to choose from.” Sakusa whispered, as if this was his version of sweet nothings. “I would prefer it if you wore one tomorrow.”

You shot him back a radiant smile, one that he eagerly savored in the back of his memory. “I would love to.”

Your relationship did not magically fix in that single night, but you resolved to continue working on your communication. It was a two-way street, one that the both of you had to work on.

But by God, you two loved each other.

And that was all that mattered.

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llamaqueenprompt · 3 years

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Pillow Wall

Characters: Fitz Grant, Reader and more White House characters

Not Requested

Word Count: 670

Inspiration: “there is only one bed.”

The people on the plane were going crazy, they had just started flying and the papers were already rolling around everyone’s hands despite the constant warnings from the plain crew for them to be quiet for a second so they could give them some information about the flight.

Y/N sat on her chair with her computer on her legs looking at emails and checking if they had everything ready for when they landed, when her eyes landed on one email from the hotel they were staying.

“Shit,” she muttered under her breath.

“Is everything okay?” her seat buddy asked while hearing her cuss.

She nodded not taking her eyes away from the computer and not giving Fitz a second look.

“Everyone,” Y/N called, making everyone stop on their tracks “I know we have a lot of things to do before we land but I need to know the room arrangement so I can send it to the hotel manager. We have 17 bedrooms so it can accommodate two people in each...”

Before she even finished talking they all started looking at the person on their right and shouting that they wanted to stay with them.

“They look like teenagers” Fitz said, not taking his eyes away from his book and that made Y/N smile a little bit.

“Guys, nothing is going to be solved like this,” she reached her purse and took a piece of paper and a pen from it “so please, write down the pairs on this paper.”

After they landed, a couple of hours later, they went straight to the hotel lobby to pick up the keys to the rooms. Some were grabbing their sleeping buddies like kids on school trips.

When Y/N finished giving the last instructions she started making her way to the front desk but a hand on her shoulder made her stop.

“I already got them,” Fitz said as he showed her the two sets of keys.

“Thank you,”

They made their way to the elevator together and rode it with Mellie and Marcus who wouldn’t stop talking about the plans for the next day.

When they arrived at the room, Fitz went straight to the bathroom and Y/N went to put their suitcases close to their beds, well she was going to until she saw the bed.

“Fitz!” she called, still in shock.

“Yes?” he asked, peeking his head out of the bathroom.

“There is only one bed”

“Oh” he reacted fully emerging from the bathroom and standing next to Y/N.

“That’s your reaction?” she asked, finally turning her attention to him “Oh?”

“What do you want me to say? That I will go to the reception and demand that they give us a bedroom with two beds in it?”

“Yeah, something along those lines would be better” she answered with a smile on her face.

“I’ll just sleep on the couch,” he said, pointing to the couch on the other side of the room and already picking up a pillow.

“No,” she said looking around and trying to find a solution “we could bill a wall”

“What?”

“A pillow wall in between ourselves on the bed.” she said, like that made the most sense in the world.

“You’re kidding right?” he really hoped she was because they were two grown adults who could share a bed without any problems and didn’t need a pillow wall.

“Nope,” she answered, picking up every single pillow she could find.

Fitz stood back, just looking at her mesmerized with the whole situation.

“Are you going to help or not?” she asked looking at him with five pillows under her arms.

He just shocked his head and went to the closet to get some more.

“Do you want to sleep on the right or the left?” Y/N asked as they made their way to bed.

“Left”

They both layed down with their backs to the pillow wall and made themselves comfortable, the most comfortable they could be without making the wall fall.

“Goodnight Y/N”

“Goodnight Fitz”

#scandal #fitz grant #fitz grant x reader #fitz grant imagine #scandal x reader #scandal imagine #x reader

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ | Planning The Trip

Part One of my "Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™" headcanon series

Includes: (The Whole Gang) Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Pietro Maximoff, Vision, Sam Wilson, Bruce Banner, Stephen Strange, Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeyson

Word Count: 3.9k

Relationships: The Avengers x F!Reader, Ambiguous; just how we like it ;)

Going To Disney With The Avengers Gang™ Master List

→The whole idea starts when the team is lounging at the compound doing regular™ team things

→A.K.A Wanda, y/n, Pietro, and Vision are in a pile on one of the couches cuddling, Clint and Nat are across the room playing pool, Bucky is making ramen in the kitchen, Steve is trying to convince Bucky to add an egg or something for more protein, Bruce and Stephen are talking neuroscience and bickering over techniques of spinal fluid something, Thor and Loki are fighting over the remote before Loki finally rolls his eyes and picks up the book y/n had left on the coffee table, Sam is asleep on the floor, and Tony is just tired

→In the madness though he picks up on the conversation happening between the four people on the couch

→“You’ve never been to Disney World?”

→Three rounds of “no” “nope” “I’ve only had a body for a year, y/n. When would I have gone to Disney World?”

→”Okay, yeah, good point, Vis. But y’all would love it. I haven’t been since high school but I want to go again so bad. We need a vacation.”

→Tony doesn’t even stick around to hear the rest, he’s already walking away while speaking to FRIDAY, telling her start pulling up the Disney site and analyzing it, disappearing to his lab and using all of his monitors to compare the resorts and try to decide where to stay that everyone would like (and where they would all fit because there’s too many of them)

→It doesn’t take him long to realize they’re going to need large accommodations

→Bruce is the first to notice that he’s gone, sneaking into the lab and scaring the hell out of Tony

→“Whatcha’ doing?”

→“Ah shit-- Bruce! How are you so quiet?”

→And then he points to the seven open listings on the monitors and explains that the team needs a break and that he heard y/n talking about Disney World and that he wants to surprise the team-- Bruce agrees immediately (the man is always in need of relaxation)-- and that’s how the team’s geek squad ends up playing Disney Dad #1 and Disney Dad #2 and planning the most extravagant vacation in less than three hours

→They have it down to a science after the first twenty minutes-- dividing what needs to be done and tackling it individually while bouncing ideas off one another

→“Do you think they want to eat at Beauty and The Beast Castle or Ariel’s Grotto the second night?” “I’m not sure-- book them both.” “Tony we can’t--” “FRIDAY, book them both.” “You got it Mr. Stark.”

→There’s a lot of Bruce wondering if what they’re booking is too expensive and even more of Tony reminding him that he’s a literal billionaire and that he could buy the Disney company if he wanted to-- that still doesn’t stop Bruce from suggesting more frugal methods from time to time-- it only makes Tony want to spend even more money because you need to lighten up, Banner

→The next person who realizes Tony and Bruce are gone is-- surprisingly-- Sam

→Honestly it’s only because he has to pass Tony’s lab on the way back from his room and he sticks his head in to tell them that “Romanoff and Barton ordered pizza if y’all want any… holy crap is that Disney World? Are we going to Dis--”

→Tony literally grabs him by the collar and tells him to hush it, birdman before pulling him into the room and explaining his plans for the second time-- “Yes, we are going to Disney World and I want it to be a surprise.”

→Sam just nods, his eyes on the screen and his brows beginning to push down and-- “Okay but why are you booking dinner at Mickey’s Backyard Barbecue on the same day that you have fast passes for World of Color at Epcot?”

→And Tony and Bruce blink and are just like “What?”

→And Sam is already at the computer, fingers stuttering over the weird ass hoverscreens while pulling up the page which shows that the World of Color has a whole ass dining experience-- Tony and Bruce have no clue that was even a thing-- and suddenly Sam is the one telling them what to plan because, as it turns out, this man loves Disney World and has been upwards of thirteen times and knows it inside and out

→Thank gods for Sam because these two Disney Dads™ were really shooting blindly into the abyss of trip planning without ever having gone to Disney World-- he has to shift around fast passes, dining reservations, water park tickets, and even the family portrait session that Tony demanded Bruce add

→He shows them all the things they don’t even think to plan-- firework shows, dessert parties, literally all of Downtown Disney-- Tony wants to be mad but he’s too busy picking his jaw up off the floor when Sam manages to book them for an After Dark Party in Magic Kingdom

→Bruce gets so excited when Sam tells him that’s a thing that he almost gives the plan away when Natasha comes rushing to see what all the noise is (it’s Banner jumping up and down like a toddler) -- he has to rush to the doorway, make up a lie about him dropping a piece of equipment, and then walk her back to the common area and play a round of pool with her to keep her questions at bay

→It’s all fine because Sam puts the final touches on the plan and has Tony give the order for FRIDAY to book it all and then it’s ready to tell the team

→They sneak back into the common area, it’s nine pm and everyone just looks so worn out

→Stephen is literally half way to snoring, legs curled under him on the love seat, doing that thing people do when they’re falling asleep and their head slumps and then they spring back awake, repeating the process an embarrassing amount of times but nobody’s even paying attention

→Steve and Bucky are talking quietly in the corners about whether or not they should just go to sleep because it’s Thursday and there’s really no point in staying up any longer

→Clint and Thor are sharing a bag of popcorn and half watching John Wick while discussing the inaccuracies of the movie-- “If he had a bow none of this would have happened.” “Or a hammer.” “Yeah, that too.”

→Yeah, they’re exhausted, and it makes the Disney Dads™ and Sam that much more excited to share the news

→Sam’s twiddling his hands behind his back and sharing smiles with Banner who’s trying to keep his excitement at bay and Tony is rolling his eyes but smiling too and for a moment nobody notices their cheshire grins and nervous foot tapping until finally y/n lifts her head from Pietro’s chest-- who complains at the action and lifts his head too-- and lazily asks

→“Tones, what on earth are you smiling about?”

→And the man opens his mouth but before he can even get the words out Bruce and Sam are already jumping up and down again and screaming “We’re going to Disney World!”

→And the room goes dead silent for three beats-- one, two, three-- and it feels like a million seconds and Tony’s face is dropping slowly and he’s ready to be like sike and then she jumps up, literally stepping on Pietro’s stomach, hurtling the back of the couch like a damn track star and rushing the man at full force, flinging herself at him and jumping into his arms and there are tears streaming down her face and she’s screaming

→“Tony you didn’t! Oh my gods you didn’t! You’re lying oh my god no! Are you serious?”

→And he’s nodding but he still can’t get a word in edgewise because she’s still rambling-- “You heard me oh my gods! You heard me and you did it! Tony that’s insane and reckless and oh my god I love you! Are we actually going? This isn’t a trick? Please don’t let this be a trick!”

→And he just laughs and spins her around and tells her that no, this isn’t a trick I’m not the mischief god here and Loki rolls his eyes but he’s also kind of excited despite the frown on his face

→They’re all excited

→Pietro and Wanda and screaming with Sam, slapping each other and just full on freaking out like children, incoherent and happy and raring to just go already

→In turn this wakes Stephen up who hears the madness and jumps up, on edge and ready to literally fight before he realizes what’s going on and calmly sits back down, nodding his head but not speaking because if this literal grown man opens his mouth he knows he’s going to freak out too because holy shit Disney World-- even sorcerers like Disney!

→Steve and Bucky are kind of confused-- they just barely remember Snow White when it came out but Disney World? They made a-- what is it? A theme park? Regardless they’re excited, ready to break the old men lull they’ve fallen into-- Bucky hears y/n ask if Tony booked water park tickets and gets super excited

→Vision is also confused but he sees everyone getting turnt over Disney World and decides that he is also excited-- Wanda momentarily stops being hyped up to ask him if he’s waterproof in which he goes into explicit detail about how yes, he is and he’ll show her if she’d like and she has to slap her hands over his mouth and tell him to hush

→Thor and Clint also turn into children but they’re the run around the room yelling types as opposed to the stand in a circle and scream types-- the gang is apparently just like fifteen children who barely manage to get things done apparently because they’re all hyped as fuck

→Clint sprints over to Nat whose hands are already up, ready to fight the man off because she knows what’s coming, but he’s too fast and too happy and uses all his assassin training to dodge her kick, grabbing her around the waist and spinning her around until she’s giggling and slapping his back

→“Natty we’re going to fucking Disney World!”

→“I know you lug, I heard Stark too. Let me down!”

→He doesn’t-- he just shakes her harder, cheering with the rest of them

→Thor slumps down next to his brother, nudging his shoulder-- “Migardians are strange”-- and Loki nods but pulls out his phone and starts looking up what’s actually at Disney World and-- “Look, brother, our home… wait is that us?”-- and the brothers get sucked into a rabbit hole of the Norwegian pavilion and whatever the hell the Frozen ride is and why their pictures are there

→It takes thirty minutes for everyone to calm down enough for them to actually have a conversation about what on earth Tony and Bruce and Sam did-- it takes another ten minutes after that for Stephen to finally break through the chatter to ask the most important question-- “Guys, seriously. You can ask about the plans after. The main question here is when are we going.”

→And Tony glances at Bruce and shrugs and is like “Tomorrow.”

→And they all erupt again-- y/n and Wanda because they have to pack and Stephen because normal people don’t just up and go on Vacation, you’re supposed to make time and Clint and Pietro because holy shit we’re going to Disney tomorrow!-- but Tony just brushes the worry off and reminds them-- again-- that they’re superheroes and that he’s a billionaire and that they can go on vacation whenever they damn want

→Cue fifteen more minutes of freaking out and y/n tackling Tony and then tackling Bruce and then, finally, tackling Sam who scoops her up and all but tosses her in the air before thanking her profusely for putting the idea in Tony’s brain

→They spend the next few minutes fangirling together-- Sam raves about all the food he’s going to eat-- Mickey bars, corn dogs, pretzels, those huge turkey legs-- and y/n talks about how she wants to get all the autographs she can-- especially Goofy and Pluto-- and then Sam mentions the After Dark Party and, like Bruce, she freaks out

→Finally Wanda has to split them up, grabbing y/n with one hand and hauling her over to the other redhead who’s still being held hostage by the resident archer and grabbing Nat with the other-- when Clint protests she curls her fingers, warning him with a pinch of red magic, and he holds his hands up, backing away slowly but telling Nat she’d better come see him before they leave

→On the way out Steve asks where they’re going and Wanda almost threatens him too until Nat tells him they’re going to pack for tomorrow-- he then turns to Bucky and reiterates the idea to a less than enthusiastic super soldier who tries to argue that I can pack in the morning but Steve just isn’t having it-- it takes five minutes but finally Buck agrees (but only after Steve says Bucky can just throw his stuff in his bag)

→The girls spend the rest of the night giggling and packing, holding up dresses and putting them down, shoving things in each other's bags and dancing to a playlist of oldies from Wanda’s phone-- Nat is the most boring packer but after some threats to get resident archer involved she gets her act together

→Pietro comes in when he’s done and Wanda scoffs at what he has packed but he only shrugs, slumping on y/n’s bed and giving her grabby hands until she rejoins him

→“But Pietro what if I forget something?”

→“You worry too much-- can’t Stange make portals?” He has a point

→What they all pack:

→Tony: Suits and graphic t-shirts. He’s either rolling up to Disney World in a Metallica t-shirt or a full three piece suit there’s no inbetween. He’s really not concerned about packing-- he can just buy whatever he needs there. After a text from y/n though he throws in a few pairs of shorts that he didn't even know he owned and his M.I.T. hoodie. He tops it off with a few gadgets he thinks he might need-- FRIDAY’s chip and some nanotech-- and he’s good to go. Billionaires don’t need to pack.

→Steve: Clothes and toiletries. Boring, basic, forgets swim trunks until he sees Bucky put his swim trunks and nothing else into Steve’s bag. That’s how he remembers most things actually; by looking at what Bucky doesn’t put into the bag. Along the way he suggests what the super soldier might want to pack while adding a few extra of his own just in case. After thinking about it for a few minutes he adds two books-- one for each of them. He also adds some tools-- a screwdriver and some pliers-- in case Bucky’s arm starts acting up. He’s sure Stark will have something but in case he doesn't, those will hold it over.

→Bucky: Swim trunks. And, when Steve begs, he grumbles and adds a few button downs and henleys. He also sneaks in a few knives, burying them in the henleys. He watches Steve pack for him though and leaves it at that-- what’s the point of packing when the super soldier can just do it for him? He’s not stupid-- he’s tired and Steve is fussy. He’ll have what he needs and if he doesn’t then he’ll just make y/n go swimming with him. Then he won’t need anything. Easy peasy.

→Nat: She’s the most level headed packer of the bunch, spare maybe Bruce and Sam. She Packs what she’ll need-- not too much and not too little. If anything she packs too many of Clint’s hoodies (three). Part of that, though, is her knowing that he’s probably going to forget one. She packs her normal toiletries, making sure to add an extra stick of deodorant and a bottle of Wanda’s red nail polish because-- despite the fact that she spends an hour watching Wanda pack her entire room-- she just knows that the woman forgot a bottle of that stuff and that she’ll be upset if her nails look chipped in the pictures. Wanda and y/n make her pack a bikini despite the fact that she has two scars from Bucky still and they threaten to get Clint involved if she tries to refuse-- “I suggest you put that little black number in that bag right now unless you want some aggressive compliments, you hear me woman?” She didn’t have to be told twice.

→Clint: Not as much as he should. Never as much as he should. He packs boxers, a pair of swim trunks, a few regular shirts and shorts (not enough), a couple nice shirts and a pair of jeans, and his toiletries. He’s gone longer with less but-- like-- he doesn’t have to this time? Nat walks into his room as he finishes packing and takes one look at his bag before marching to his closet and adding a hat, a pair of sunglasses, a jacket, a pair of sweatpants, and socks because who the hell doesn’t pack socks when they’re going to be walking around for days, how the hell are you an accomplished assassin Clint?

→Wanda: She literally packs as much as she can-- think the essentials times three and then some, like five different dresses, two leather jackets (even though y/n reminds her that Orlando is hot), her laptop and her ipad, two pairs of headphones. She has a notebook, a sketch book, and a regular book. Six bikinis and a one-piece. Three hats, four pairs of sunglasses, enough panties to last a month, let alone a week. She packs heels, boots, sneakers, flats, and sandals. Two purses and a backpack. Wanda Maximoff is the epitome of team mom-- anything Nat and y/n forget she’ll have it. She also packs a few things that she thinks Pietro will forget-- a few nice outfits for nights out and his main toiletries. Oh-- and sunscreen! Lots and lots of sunscreen!

→Pietro: Well, let's just say that it’s a good thing Wanda thinks to pack some things for Pietro because this man barely remembers his toothbrush let alone his phone charger. He gets the basics-- the bare necessities-- like three t-shirts, a pair of shorts, some (?) boxers, and like seven pairs of shoes because with how fast this man is he’s going to need them badly. He does, however, remember to pack his bathing suit and that’s more than a few people on the team can remember. Poor baby just wants to get there already-- he can just buy whatever he forgets.

→Vision: A very strange assortment of items. He doesn’t need clothes-- he can make whatever he would like appear on his body-- but he does want to feel included so Wanda gives him one of her backpacks and he puts like kind of random items into it. He sees a phone cord and shoves it in and like a hairbrush-- all items someone will need eventually but not him (later will find out that it’s the cord to Sam’s Iphone and will hand it over and have the audacity to say you’re welcome Samuel after doing it).

→Sam: He packs at least four ball caps. Nothing besides that really matters; he just knows how fucked you are if you don’t bring a hat and he’s bringing enough for the people who forget. As much as Bucky gets on his nerves he also packs him one. Besides that he packs normally-- t-shirts, shorts, shoes, socks, boxers-- all regular amounts. He freaks out a little when he can’t find his phone charger but he’ll just buy one when he gets there. He also brings a Polaroid camera and a shit ton of film-- some of his team members have never been and he will be documenting it all.

→Bruce: He’s the most boring packer and that isn’t a bad thing-- it’s the reason he has so many doctorates-- because he’s smart and level headed. He packs the clothes he needs with one extra of everything. He packs his toiletries. He doesn’t pack his whole room and he doesn’t pack nothing at all. He’s perfectly in the middle-- a Disney Dad™! He does, however, forget his swim trunks-- oops.

→Stephen: One backpack with a t-shirt, sweatpants, and swim trunks. That’s it. Why would he pack anything else? The man can open a portal whenever he needs! He’s always one step away from his bedroom! Stephen simply flicks his wrists and can change and rejoin the group in less time than it takes the rest of them to pull shit from their bags and wait for the washroom to free up. It’s actually a genius play.

→Loki: Despite being the most outwardly unenthusiastic he packs almost the exact same way that Wanda does. He’s a nervous packer. His brother laughs but, like, he has a point. Safe is better than sorry. It’s comical that he packs like five sweaters though considering that he can snap his fingers and make the sweater appear. All his clothes are either green or black. He packs at least one all black suit. Thor has to force him to add a red Hawaiian shirt and he scoffs at it and shoves it to the bottom. Definitely packs three pairs of swim trunks because he doesn’t like putting them one while they’re still wet. He doesn’t even know if he’s going to go swimming but he’s still doing it anyway. He also packs the scrunchie y/n gave him to keep his hair out of the way and when Thor tries to say shit about it he pulls a dagger from thin air and just chucks it. After dodging it Thor asks why don’t you just make your clothes appear the same way?

→Thor: Enough but, like, definitely not enough. The normal things but like less. He figures he’s going to be spending most of his time in his bathing suit anyway. Loki tries to remind him that he can’t go shirtless in the parks (he looked it up already) but he doesn't listen. It really is a good thing his brother can make things appear from thin air. He’s the type of guy to be content in a pair of flip flops and an open button down. He does, however, bring one of those dad-esque fanny packs and somehow he makes it look hot.

→Y/n: Literally packs the same as Wanda, if just a tad less. So many clothes that it’s insane. She, however, has the added bonus of her old Mickey ears-- a pink sequined pair that are a little worse from wear but still pretty. She packs a bucket hat to pin collectable pins to. She makes sure to leave extra room in her suitcase for souvenirs. She’s had her eye on the luxury bath salts from the Grand Floridian ever since the Disney Instagram posted them a few months ago and now that she’s going she won’t be leaving without them. She also packs the strapless dress she’s been meaning to wear for months now-- she doesn’t know who’s going to be there to admire it but she’s sure there’s at least one person who will. Besides, Nat’s been telling her to wear it for ages.

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

Conferences (Maxwell Lord/Lorenzano x f!teacher!Reader)

Summary: Alistair Lorenzano is a third grader in your class, whom you absolutely adore. Upon meeting his father, Maxwell, you suddenly have much more interest in the Lorenzano family. Set after WW84.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, flirting, talk of divorce and trauma, lots of talk of children and such, especially Alistair. brief nondescript mentions of Maxwell’s shitty childhood. uh. Spoilers for The Great Gatsby lmao

A/N: well! I haven’t written for max in a long time but the ship request (which are CLOSED) i received here really made me inspired! hope u guys like it :)

Alistair Lorenzano was a joy to have in class. You mean it too, not like when you don’t have a comment for a child’s report card and you just stick that phrase on the bottom. No, Alistair is a genuinely good kid.

The little dark haired boy walked in proudly on the first day, even as none of the other children came over to say hello or pal around with him. He seemed lonely, but he marched up to your desk and placed a beautiful apple on the desk, giving you a gap-toothed grin and introducing himself with a handshake. Alistair didn’t talk to his other classmates much that day, or any other day really. He was usually preoccupied with a book of some sort.

He sits alone at lunch and recess, usually burying his nose in a book as the other children play. He’s progressed quite quickly, reading big wordy books the other fourth graders surely couldn’t handle. When a child has no one to play with, Alistair will sit with them and talk. He’ll always help a struggling classmate with their long division or come up with a good synonym for them. He rarely raises his hand, but he’s almost always correct.

He’ll come in early most mornings. He doesn’t talk much about his family, but he says his dad works early in the morning and that he has to drop him off earlier. That’s fine with you; the kid is a good conversationalist and will read quietly while you arrange lesson plans or grade spelling tests.

You wonder what his family is like. All you know about his father is that he works early in the morning. His mother has dropped him off late several times, but that always led to more early mornings; presumably his father’s doing.

As a teacher, you tend to shy away from family-based assignments. You’re fully aware that some of your students won’t want to share what their parents do for a living, or talk about them at all. That’s why you don’t know much about the Lorenzano family- you don’t ask and Alistair doesn’t share.

Conferences are approaching soon as you approach the midpoint of the first semester. Most parents don’t come if their children are doing well; typically, only the parents of struggling children make appearances. That’s why you’re surprised to read the note Alistair hands you when he walks in, thirty minutes before class begins, as always.

You frown reading the little note of paper, pushing your glasses up your nose. “You’re sure that your father needs a conference?” You ask the little boy. He looks confused. “I’d love to meet him,” you say hurriedly, sipping your morning coffee. “It’s just that… you’re a very smart kid, Alistair. Usually it’s the parents of kids who don’t do so well that sign up for conferences.”

Alistair shrugs, taking off his puffy fall jacket and hanging it on his hook near your desk. “I don’t know. Dad just said he wanted that time,” he says, pointing at your paper.

Dramatically uncapping a colored flare pen, you make a show out of writing down the name for your 7:30 time slot: Mr Lorenzano. “Well, I will see your dad then,” you tell the kid with a smile. He seems pleased that you’re excited. “What’s his name?”

“Maxwell,” Alistair informs you, sitting at his desk and cracking open his book.

You repeat the name, writing it down in the purple pen you chose. “Your family has very elegant names,” you tease Alistair.

Alistair shrugs. “Dad likes to sound fancy.”

Maxwell has never met you, but he feels that he knows you like an old friend. Alistair absolutely adores you, tells his father about you at any chance he gets.

You sound wonderful. He supposes that Alistair would adore any female figure in his life right now. Vanessa, the former Mrs. Lord, has all but rejected her son. When Alistair would spend time at her place, she’d practically ignore her own kid, prioritizing whatever she wanted to do. Several days, Alistair was late to or completely missed school thanks to Vanessa’s ignorance.

That’s why Maxwell has taken nearly full custody now. Vanessa didn’t argue it. She was glad to have Alistair out of her hair. Besides, she resented Maxwell for endless reasons, usually unfounded. She wanted to see him struggle.

But Maxwell thrived. Alistair and his father are as close as can be. Maxwell now works a menial job, after the whole Dreamstone fiasco, but he’s managing to make ends meet. When they have enough money left over, he’ll take Alistair to the movies or buy him a new lego kit.

Maxwell hasn’t found love since Vanessa, but he thinks you might be the one for him. One could call him a hopeless romantic; his heart builds and breaks as easily as a wave on the shore. You sound so nurturing and lovely, so wonderful to the one Maxwell loves most. That’s partially why he scheduled the conference with you.

The other part was that Alistair is a budding genius in Maxwell’s eyes. He flies through thick books day in and day out, and Max wants to accommodate the skills in his son. He constantly tells him how proud of him he is, but he wants to make sure he can keep helping him learn.

On the day of the conference, Maxwell is nervous. Why is he nervous? He combs his closet several times to find one of the nice suits from his glory days, but decides it to be ridiculous. He’s not sure how much Alistair tells you about his family, but he’s sure you know he is no longer the television personality Max Lord. Instead, he settles for a dress shirt and pants, tossing on a light jacket over it. The fall air is turning crisp, especially in the evenings.

Doña Gloria from next door knocks on the door at promptly 7:00, and Alistair pops up to answer it. He loves the old woman, and wraps her in a big hug. Gloria walks inside the apartment, grinning at the sight of Maxwell’s outfit. “Ah, making a good impression on the boy’s teacher,” she nods in approval.

“Hoping to,” he nods and adjusts the suede jacket over his lapels, fidgeting with the zipper. “Alistair, why don’t you go find that game you wanted to play with Doña Gloria?”

The child runs off obediently and the woman straightens his collar for him. “Little Maxie has a crush,” she sings.

“Gloria,” he frowns as he messes with the cuffs. “I’ve never even met the woman.”

She gives a knowing smile. “But you know her. You know her through Alistair, all his stories. I’m sure she will love you, mijo.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” he sighs and pats his pockets, checking for his wallet. “She’s Alistair’s teacher. I can’t just-“

“You can do whatever the hell you want, Mr. Lorenzano,” the woman chuckles and reassures him. “Go get her.”

He shakes his head. “It’s a conference, not a date,” he says as he walks towards the door.

“It can be both!” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts the door, making him laugh.

Conferences, as always, are a pain in the ass. You sit and make small talk with parents, discussing their child’s skills with their times table versus their writing proficiency, their standardized test scores and how they stack up.

As the night passes, you grow more frazzled. Your hair, neatly tucked back, falls out in strands, and your glasses seem to slide down your nose more and more often. Some parents verbally abuse you for their children’s poor scores on their science test. Others try to get to know you a little too personally. All part of a day’s work.

A hopeful smile dares to peek out as you read your schedule and arrange your sampling of Alistair’s works. You’re eager to meet his father, to meet the man Alistair so rarely talks about but clearly adores.

There’s a knock on your classroom door at 7:30 on the dot. Shoving your glasses up your nose one time, you hurry to the door and allow the man in. “Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. Lorenzano,” you tell him and shake his hand, leading him to your desk.

Something about him seems familiar. He’s very attractive, that’s something. He doesn’t have his son’s dark, nearly black hair, but rather a light brown with bits of blonde interjected throughout. He has his son’s deep brown eyes, and his very presence makes you smile. He looks put together, dressed similarly to other fathers you’ve seen tonight.

You tuck your skirt under you as you sit in your chair. The man’s voice is smooth and beautiful as he speaks. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Alistair talks endlessly about you at home.”

Smiling, you shuffle some of his papers. The man is distractingly handsome, you find as you scramble to grab Alistair’s math test. “Well, he’s a very special kid. I adore having him in my class, truly. Your son is going places, Mr. Lorenzano.”

“Please, Max,” he shakes his head, producing something from a pocket. “Oh, and… for you.”

The sight makes you nearly laugh, but instead you break into a grin. The man’s large hand holds a shiny red apple, perfectly shaped. “Thank you,” you laugh and set it on your desk. “You know, I have no idea where that silly custom comes from.”

“I should ask Alistair,” Maxwell chuckles, his face heating as he takes in the beauty of your smile. “He knows so much. It wouldn’t be a stretch for him to know that.”

Nodding, you hand over an assortment of Alistair’s schoolwork and artwork. “He really does. I appreciate having a fellow avid reader in my class. He’s so bright, it’s… wild, really. Do you or… Mrs. Lorenzano,” you say, treading lightly, “do anything supplementary that advances his learning?”

Max looks down at the papers. “Well, she isn’t Mrs. Lor- Lorenzano anymore,” he shakes his head, his eyes not meeting yours for a moment. He stumbles, nearly using his former business name of Lord. “But no. I have nearly full custody of Alistair, and he flies through books. It’s absurd,” the man laughs, his pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “I mean, neither of us were ever as smart as this. I don’t know where he got it from.”

You frown at that. “You seem very smart, Max. May I ask what you do for a living?”

His brow furrows. “Alistair hasn’t told you?”

You shake your head, adjusting your glasses. God, Maxwell wants to do that for you, push them up your nose or better yet, take them off and kiss you deeply. “I don’t push kids to talk about their home lives. Some don’t want to share,” you shrug.

“I wish I would’ve had a teacher like you in my day,” he chuckles sadly. “I... well, I work currently for a corporate office in Arlington. It’s nothing very exciting, or anything that requires skill.”

You shrug, smiling a little. “It must be an important job or they wouldn’t pay you to do it.”

His chuckle is a little more upbeat. “I suppose. I just… my family was very poor when I was a child. I don’t want Alistair to feel ashamed that I don’t make as much money as his other classmates. Tell me, he doesn’t seem very social. Is he…?”

You want to phrase it properly, so you stutter for a moment. “Well, to put it plainly, no. Alistair does not talk much with his classmates. He’s a very quiet boy, as I’m sure you know. It’s not that they ostracize him, but rather that he chooses to be alone. He’s always reading rather than playing soccer or whatever,” you shrug. “It’s most certainly not exclusion on the basis of… having less money.”

Maxwell’s shoulders relax a little. “Well, I’m glad. Honestly, I don’t mind that he’s quiet. I’m glad he’s learning.”

“I’d usually disagree, but I have to say the same,” you chuckle. “He’s a really good kid, Max. You should be proud to have him as a son. Don’t tell anyone, but he’s my favorite student.”

He’s absolutely beaming with pride. “That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”

“Of course! How could I not love that kid?” you chuckle as you admire a drawing Alistair made of a scene from his favorite book. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?” You ask, unsure if he had more concerns.

Maxwell’s almost startled by the question. “Oh! Yes, I got sidetracked,” he chuckles, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He’s painfully beautiful, and his laugh makes you laugh in return. It’s safe to say you really like the Lorenzano family. “He just goes through book after book, it’s endless. Do you have any recommendations for continued reading? I want him to keep going like this, truly.”

Tapping a pen against your gradebook, you think on it for a moment. “I guess the best way would be positive reinforcement, but not reward. If you, say, incentivized it, he might see it as a chore to earn the money or toy or whatever.”

Maxwell nods as he listens, a small smile on his face as he listens to your voice and intellect. Yes, his theory earlier was correct. He does have a crush on you. “Naturally.”

“So, my recommended course of action would really just be praise and support. Tell him you’re proud of him. Offer to take him to the library to pick out some more. Those little things mean more to a kid than we can know.”

Max does know, actually. He knows because he was deprived of them as a child, because he tries to use them as often as he can so Alistair never feels the way he felt. “I can most definitely do that.”

“Great,” you nod, fidgeting with the stem of the apple in front of you. “If he ever wants to do more math or puzzles or such, the library has lots of great resources for that as well. I also have lots of worksheets I could send home with him.”

“If I can tear him away from that book,” Maxwell chuckles. “Do you have any favorites? You mentioned you read a lot.”

“Oh, god,” you laugh, and Maxwell is enchanted by the sound. “There are too many options! My favorite book of all time would probably have to be the Great Gatsby. I love the classics.”

Maxwell’s smile turns bittersweet. Jay Gatsby’s life reminds him far too much of his own for comfort now. Before, he’d call himself a Gatsby in reference to lavish parties and living large. Now, he feels like Gatsby dead in the water. “Wonderful book,” he nods. “F. Scott Fitzgerald is a literary mastermind.”

“Do you read too?” You ask, intrigued. His personality shows more and more and you’re desperate for even more of it.

He shakes his head. “Not as much as Alistair, I’m afraid, but when I have the time.”

You grin. “My plans for tonight are to go home and read with some takeout. No one to disturb me or anything. I’m very much a homebody, so it’s usually just me and my gradebook and my houseplants. Takeout is the most excitement I get. I’m looking forward to working through this book though; I’m currently reading Wilde.”

“Ah, what book?”

“Picture of Dorian Gray,” you smile and look down at your tote bag with the book tucked into the side. “If I have any brainpower left. Most of these conferences are energy-suckers.”

“How many do you have left?” He asks, curious.

“You’re the last of the night, actually,” you chuckle and cross your arms on the desk, looking over at him and silently hoping he reads your interest.

“The night you have planned sounds lovely, I must say,” Maxwell chuckles. “I do love takeout, but I know of a wonderful place near here. I… we could go get dinner, if you’d like.”

Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose to push your glasses back up. “That sounds wonderful, Max. It’s nice to converse with someone who isn’t 9 years old for a while. And someone so interesting,” you openly flirt now that you can tell he’s picking up on your messages.

“Me? Hardly,” he shakes his head and laughs. “I’m sure you have much more fascinating stories than me.”

“I am a third grade teacher, Max,” you laugh. “If you want stories that involve boogers, the ever-present cooties, and long division, I’m your gal, but it hardly extends past that.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out. Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it,” you grin. “Does that mean wine?”

“Always,” Maxwell says in a mockingly offended voice, as if you’d even dare to ask such a thing, with a look of disgust.

“Thank fucking god,” you laugh before clapping a hand over your mouth. “Oh shit. Oh-“ you wince as you try to cover your curse with another curse. “Sorry. When school hours are out, I can’t hold back any longer.”

“No need to,” he assures you. “A woman like you could do whatever she wants and I’d be happy to just be in her presence.”

“Mr. Lorenzano,” you tease. “This is a parent-teacher conference!”

“Then let’s head to dinner and continue this in a nonprofessional capacity, shall we?” He asks, standing and pushing back his rolling chair.

“That sounds great,” you smile. Alistair’s father sure is something. Yes, you certainly like the Lorenzano family.

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todoroki-waifu · 3 years

Text

Atsumu x F! Reader

Scenario: When you try to subtly confess to Atsumu.

Word Count: 1,970

Genre: Fluff and humor.

Warnings: Cursing, female reader, and some OOC-ness (maybe?). My first time writing for Atsumu and the rest of the Inarizaki team.

————

“I get that she’s the most beautiful here, but we are here to check out the art, too.” Atsumu jumps slightly at a voice and hand on his shoulder.

“‘Samu!"

"Could you be any more obvious?"

"I-I wasn’t doing anything!” Atsumu huffs, a blush attacking his face as he shakes off his brother’s hand.

“Why don’t you ask her out already before someone else does?"

"I’m working on it!"

"Hey, who’s that with __(y/n)?” Suna chimes into their conversation, nodding to where you had been standing and admiring a portrait. The two see a man conversing with you, both of you very engaged in whatever topic that was being discussed. He brought out a small electronic device, looking a bit nervous as he showed you the screen.

“He’s probably going to ask for her number.” Osamu replies indifferently, but did a quick glance at his sibling.

“What?!” Atsumu immediately leaves the group.

“Wait, but doesn’t that guy-” Aran questions, but Kita cuts him off while the others hold in their chuckles.

“Let him figure it out."

——-

"So if you put your-” While you were listening to the young man who approached you, a familiar face made himself known.

“Hey, buddy, is there a problem over here?” Atsumu suddenly inserts himself in between you and the stranger. He stands tall, looming over the shorter male.

“N-no, there is no problem.”

“Atsumu-kun, he was just-” You placed a hand on his arm and tried to explain the situation.

“Don’t worry, __(y/n)-chan. I got this.” Atsumu gently pushes you behind him to hide you.

“Was there something you needed from her?” He continues.

“No, si-sir. I-I was only trying to-”

“Well, if you ain’t got any business with her, I suggest you beat it.” The blonde twin glares at the male hiding behind his black device. He smirks victoriously, watching the scared stranger run away. He turns around to find you with your arms crossed and an incredulous look.

“Why were you so mean to him?”

“Mean? What do you mean? Wasn’t he trying to hit on you?”

“What? No! He works here! He’s a staff member."

"But didn’t he have his phone out to get your number?”

“Get my..-you mean his Ipad? He wasn’t trying to get my number, he was asking for my email so he could send a survey for us to fill out on how satisfied we were with the staff and the place."

Atsumu had no answer, processing what he did to the innocent and diligent worker and to you. You must think he’s a crazy idiot for sure.

"As funny and adorable that was, you’re coming with me to apologize.” You grabbed his hand, dragging Atsumu to find the man who he wrongly yelled at.

“Yes..” He pouts, but obeys. You’re zipping through the crowd until you finally spot your target.

“He’s with someone else, but we’re waiting until he’s finished and I’m not letting go until you do."

"I-I wasn’t gonna run away.” His cheeks heat up at your clasped hands, avoiding your gaze.

“Just in case.” You continued to look forward, __(e/c) eyes too shy to meet his brown ones.

“Thank you though,” You break the short pause, “I know it was a misunderstanding, but it’s nice to know that someone has my back.”

Atsumu directs his head to you, but is unable to see your face since it’s turned away with your finger busying itself with a strand of your hair.

“Of course. Always.” Your heart skips at his soft reply. You feel a gentle squeeze on your hand and respond similarly, fighting back the smile that was eager to present itself.

“Oh look! He’s done. Let’s go.” You gently pull him towards the staff worker once he has finished speaking to the other customers. You’re about to release his hand, but Atsumu keeps a tight grip. Probably he’s nervous about admitting to his mistake, you assume.

So you hold his hand just as tight, figuring he needs the support. You knew how much of a big baby he was.

But really, Atsumu was using this as an excuse to hold you just a bit longer. His fingers felt right in between yours.

——-

You managed to take some great pictures wherever it was allowed, but the artwork that forbade photos, you captured in your memory. After touring around the entire museum, you and the boys were starting to feel hungry, so everyone agreed to eat at the nearest restaurant.

You saw a few people scattered outside and you volunteered to ask the host how long the wait would be. Osamu steps behind his brother and lightly taps the back of his knees with his.

“Remember, that guy works here."

"Shut up, 'samu! I know that.” Atsumu huffs, red cheeks puffing out slightly as his friends laugh loudly. They stop as soon as you near them, telling the boys that there was a table open that could accommodate your party.

You sat in between the Miya twins which made you both nervous and happy. Your crush on Atsumu was getting worse every day yet you didn’t hate the feeling. You distracted yourself by looking through the menu, all of you deciding to share a couple appetizers before choosing your individual meals.

“What are you getting, __(y/n)-chan?” Atsumu asks, brown eyes looking at you as he lowers his menu.

“Hmmmm, I’m not sure yet. I’m caught between number 8 and 9.” You point to the items on the main course list.

“Oh! I was going to get the number 8. How about I get 8 and you get the 9 and we can just share? That way, we can get a taste of both. I’m curious about number 9 also.”

“Really? You wouldn’t mind?"

"Yea, of course I wouldn’t mind!” He grins, folding the menu before placing it on the table. You copy him and wait for the server to collect your orders.

You then bring out your phone, taking pictures of the boys and the restaurant’s interesting decor. Despite your school’s motto, you liked to keep the memories.

“Ne, Atsumu-kun, mind if I borrow your phone? Your camera is better than mine.” Your cell phone was a few years old, but Atsumu just replaced his and you were waiting to upgrade yours. Part of you was glad that you hadn't yet because you were going to use this opportunity to see how he feels about you.

“Sure. Here ya go.” He hands you his phone.

“Thanks!” You start taking pictures of yourself, really impressed with the photo quality.

“Take a selfie with me.” You change the camera view as you hold out your hand in front of you and Atsumu.

“You’re so far! Get close to me like you actually like me.” You say jokingly as you hear a few, muffled snickers around the table. Atsumu stutters a response, but you interrupt him when you start counting from three.

“Ready? Smile!” You take a few shots before looking at each one closely.

“Yeck, I’m deleting that one. I look gross in there.” You weren’t satisfied with how you smiled and your eyes looked like they were in mid blink.

“What? Don’t say that. You’re gorgeous!” Atsumu looks up at you after he watches you remove one of the many pictures. You blush at his statement, dodging his stare.

“Oh, ummm. ..t-thank you."

"You don’t gotta thank me. It’s the truth.” Atsumu murmurs, but it’s coherent enough where you could understand him.

“Get ready with your orders. The waiter is coming.” Kita sees the server walking towards your table. You went first and while everyone else was focused on the waiter, you quickly dragged your finger around on the phone screen. You immediately closed what you were doing and handed Atsumu back his phone.

Your heart was beating fast, but you kept a calm smile on your face as you casually made conversation with the volleyball team. None of the guys knew about your crush, afraid that they would make fun of you. Not that you believed they would, but you weren’t comfortable telling anyone yet.

Except for today.

You finally were going to tell one person about your crush and that person was Atsumu. You planned everything out for a while, thinking of every possible situation that could happen and how you would approach it. You were surprised at how smoothly your idea was going, but that made you even more uneasy.

But you already made your move and hoped that he would notice the little message in his phone.

———

Dinner was both fun yet stressful. Every time Atsumu would check his phone, your heart would jump at the thought of him seeing what you put. But he made no reaction so you assumed he had yet to see it.

And you were fine with that. You’d prefer if he read it at home instead of in a public place.

Everyone went their separate ways after the restaurant except you and the Miya twins. Your house wasn’t too far from theirs so they walked most of the way with you. Once you were close enough, you waved goodbye to the brothers.

“Bye! See you soon! And don’t forget to send me those pictures later, okay, Atsumu-kun?"

"Yeah, I will! Bye, __(y/n)-chan!” Atsumu waved back before turning away with Osamu.

——–

Unfortunately, he never sent those pictures. He must have forgotten, but with how many days has passed, you believed he probably felt awkward with the little note you put.

If he saw it. He never acted any differently when you saw him at school.

Maybe he never did see it? But you were too afraid to ask so you were just going to live quietly with your heartache.

——-

“Oh, shoot! I forgot to send those pics to __(y/n)-chan!” Atsumu says loudly while he and Osamu walk home from practice.

“You haven’t sent them yet? It’s been a week.” Osamu shakes his head.

“I forgot! I was too busy thinking of a way to tell her I like her. I gotta make sure it’s perfect.” The setter takes out his phone and taps on the photo album icon. As he selects and scrolls through the photos, his eyes become rounded at one particular image.

It was a selfie of you and him, sitting close, cheek to cheek as you both smile happily. What made him pause was the heart drawn over the two of you with the words ’yes or no?’ written at the bottom.

“Ahh! ’s-samu! Look, look!” He shows his phone to his brother. “I think __(y/n)-chan likes me back! She put this on our picture!”

As soon as Osamu sees what’s on the screen, his eyes also widen slightly then suddenly smacks his brother at the back of his head. “Dumbass! That photo has been sitting there for that long already?”

“I told you already, I forgot! And she never said anything! Other than to send the pictures after we ate- Oh my God, 'samu, I really am a dumbass!” Realization hit Atsumu harder than his brother’s slap.

“I knew that a long time ago. Now, why are you still here talking to me? Shouldn’t you be talking to __(y/n) instead?"

"You’re right! I gotta text her!” Atsumu’s hands were working fast in trying to find your text message conversation. Before Osamu could even make a snide comment, Atsumu becomes aware of a better alternative to communicate with you.

———

On your way home, you received multiple texts from Atsumu, all saying the same thing.

Yes!

Yes!!

Yes!

Yes!!!!

’The hell? Yes to what?’ Right when you were about to reply, you saw an incoming call from the setter who made your heart skip a beat daily.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Yes! __(y/n), yes! I want to be your boyfriend!”

#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyuu #hq #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu drabbles #one shot #haikyuu one shot #hq oneshots #atsumu fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu reader insert #atsumu x you #atsumu drabble #atsumu oneshot #atsumu imagines #submission

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saiki-k-innie · 3 years

Text

Your boyfriend, Denki Kaminari, is the UA traitor

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Anime: My Hero Academia Character(s): Denki Kaminari Legend (y/n = your name): gender neutral reader, quirk not mentioned, y/n is a gamer (not a major plot point) Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: (very) minor angst, invasion of privacy Notes: I wrote this while listening to (this) playlist, originally in the comment section of the video. I decided to refine it and post it here, because why not?

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

when you first found out, you were devastated.

Denki? Your little Pikachu? The UA traitor? preposterous. it was almost laughable. almost.

You were chilling in his room, playing on his PlayStation while he was out training with Kirishima and some others when you discovered his secret.

It was pretty common to see you in his room without him or vice versa. You two completely trusted each other with everything. There was nothing to hide from each other, or so you thought.

When you were about to claim a win in Overwatch, (you were KILLING IT as Widowmaker), Denki's monitor went black. No response from the controller or the console. Sighing, you pushed yourself back in his chair and ducked your head under the desk.

"oh my god" you breathed as you laid eyes on the rat's nest of wires tangled beneath his desk. It was absolutely insane. You couldn't tell one cable from another in the gordian knot of cords. You quickly identified the problem (the plug for the PlayStation had come loose) and fixed it. You cringed at the loss of your game progress but you had another problem at hand.

You powered off all of his consoles and settled down to solve the tangle of cables. Laughing, you didn't know why you expected anything more of Denki. He was so lucky that you loved solving puzzles, and knots were your specialty.

Looking closer, you saw that he had taken the wall socket apart and messed around with it to accommodate his quirk and gamer lifestyle. You were surprised that it hadn't started a fire, but decided not to mess with that because you were genuinely afraid of what would happen if you grabbed the wrong cable.

After a bit of untangling, you finally had the cords separated. You identified and tagged all of the cords at the speed of a professional, but one cord that ran straight into the wall remained. You couldn't find what it plugged into or where it went, and it was driving you crazy.

Temporarily abandoning your original task, you swiftly ran your nimble fingers along the mystery cable. It snaked along the base of Denki's desk into the back of one of his drawers through a clearly handmade hole. You wondered why this cable was so concealed while the rest were once so tangled and what it led to.

Extracting yourself from under Denki's desk, you took a deep breath and stretched our your back. You easily identified the drawer it was supposed to go to and opened it up. The drawer was surprisingly organized, containing game cases for games that you hadn't seen him play before, but you definitely recognized the titles. There was still no sign of what the cable led to.

You weren't going to give up so soon, though. If he thought this would satisfy your curiosity, he was dead wrong. Smirking at the feeble deterrent, you promptly removed all of the cases to see what they were covering up.

"Huh," you vocalized as you stared at the empty drawer. Something wasn't adding up. Peering at the back of the drawer, you could see the cable lead... underneath the drawer? No, you were sure that it was this drawer.

Inspecting the drawer carefully, you realized that the depth of the drawer didn't match the depth of the space allotted for it. You were starting to get excited. Remembering what Light did to hide his Death Note, you realized that the bottom of the drawer was probably a fake. Smiling fondly, you remembered how Death Note was the first anime you two watched together.

Ducking your head under the drawer, you saw the hole for the ink cartridge from a ballpoint pen that would reveal the secrets. You shook your head. How did Denki think he could hide something from his weeb s/o??? You swiftly disassembled a pen and poked it into the hole.

Success! the faux bottom popped up.

Nearly vibrating from the excitement of discovery, you carefully removed the thin wooden facade from the drawer.

What- What is this? There were several circuits and wires winding around the drawer, all carefully placed and put together so they covered the bottom of the drawer snugly. You saw a button, a switchboard, a headphone jack, and what looked like a place for a cd to sit in the area closest to you. The switchboard had three buttons labeled "play" "pause" and "record". The button off of the switchboard had no label, but it was significantly bigger than the others, so it had to have some significance.

The excitement slid off of your face and was replaced with a look of pure confusion and disappointment. You didn't know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn't this.

Well, the puzzle certainly got a lot more complex but that wasn't going to stop you either. You stared at the labyrinth of lines and wires, like little highways connecting on the circuits and different components. You had completely forgotten your original objective of cable management.

Thinking for a second, you picked up one of the game cases that you took out of the drawer. The title read "Halo 3: ODST". Popping it open with the finesse of a pro gamer, you peeked inside, expecting to see the matching blue disk, but instead saw a grey cd with "021" scribbled on it in Denki's signature scrawl.

Shifting your weight onto your knees, you plugged your headphones into the audio jack. You pried the disk from the case and set it down in the drawer and pressed "play".

Your ears were assaulted with a series of beeps and you instinctively ripped your headphones from your ears. What was this??? After calming down, you sighed and carefully put your headphones back on. The beeping continued, and you realized that it was in a specific pattern. You identified it easily as morse code, and you remembered that Denki had taught you it a while back, just in case you had to communicate non-verbally. You used it to share answers on tests and talk in class more than anything, and sometimes to communicate during training. Jirou was the only other person who knew morse code in class 1-A, but you seriously doubted that she knew about this.

You pressed "pause" and removed the disk from the tray. You grabbed a notepad and reassembled the pen that you had dissected to reveal the bottom of the drawer. Sitting back down, you put the CD back into the tray and played it from the beginning.

Focusing completely, you wrote down the corresponding words to the rapid beeps. After about two minutes, the high-pitched beeps ceased completely. You put down your pen and read the message you had translated.

"Monochrome to Sparks. Bi-weekly report for week 11. Recruit for new members has proved successful. Two new villains by the names “Toga” and “Dabi” have joined us. We are still planning for the next attack on UA. Void has used intel for the specific layout of UA to detect weak points in the mainframe successfully. Crusty has suggested that we wait for the current term to finish to make our next move. We may be able to kidnap students of choice if they end up going on a training trip. That is all. Please send your reply at the usual time. Over."

Your jaw went slack. What- what is this? You shakily took the cd out of the drawer and replaced it. You opened up the other game cases that you had removed. They also contained grey disks, some labeled and some blank.

You placed the labeled ones in numerical order and listened to them one by one. The notepad was filled with all of the messages from months of corrospondence. Some had pre-dated the dorm system, so you figured that Denki converted their format to match the ones that were recorded after moving into the dorms to disguise the timeline.

Looking over your work, the puzzle pieces all fell into place. Denki had been working with the LOV for months, even before he came to UA. He had tricked you and your classmates into thinking that he was training to become the next generation of heroes with his charm and jokes. It all made sense, in a twisted way. Who would be better to be the traiter than him? To stupid in school to seem like he could pull it off, but insanely smart outside of the classroom. Was his academic shortcomings a fake too? No, you had sat there with him for hours trying to help him understand logarithms to no avail. He couldn’t of faked the tears of frustration he had before you agreed to go taste all of the flavors of Monster Energy and rank them instead of studying for midterms.

No matter what he had been planning, he still was your boyfriend. He was still your little static boy. Right?

You read over all of the messages over and over until your eyes blurred from tears. You put everything back and silently organized the cables you had pulled out. Shaking, you sat on his bed, clutching the notepad in your hands, waiting for Denki to come back.

After what seemed like forever, you heard his footsteps in the hallway.

When Denki walked in, you could tell he was exhausted.

You put down the notepad and held out your arms to him. He collapsed into you and exhaled, clearly wiped from training. You love him so much it hurts. He means the world to you, and you would do anything for him without hesitation. You solemnly made up your mind.

"Denki..." you started, rubbing his hair. "Mmmmph" he replied, noise muffled by your body. When you didn't respond, he sat up and faced you, rubbing his eyes.

You smiled sadly at him.

"What is it, my little spark?" he asked, his tone strained with worry.

You sighed and handed him the notebook with the messages written on them.

You watched his expression shift from confusion, to horror, to fear, to resignation. He didn't make it through all of the messages. He knew you would find this one day. He had made it so only you would know.

His gaze slowly panned over to the cords under his desk. When he saw that they were neatly organized, he sighed and put down the notebook. "y/n... let me explain... I understand if you turn me in. I understand if you never want to speak to me again. I understand if-" his voice broke and his eyes welled up with tears.

It hurt you so badly to see him like this. You looked over his beautiful face, distorted from the tears in your own eyes.

"Denki, when were you planning to tell me?" You felt so hurt that he kept this from you, but you knew why. How could he tell you? You both were training to be heroes. How was he supposed to tell you that you were part of the League of Villians?

"I- it all happened so fast, and I wasn't supposed to make friends, let alone be in a relationship. The shit hit the fan so quickly that it felt impossible to tell you. When we moved into dorms because of the LOV attack, I knew that I would have to tell you eventually. I set it up so we would know how to communicate in morse code so that you and only you would be able to find the communicator, and so that you would feel comfortable in my room. I just- I just hoped that maybe you would never find out." As he spoke, he moved his hands around feebly, just to let them rest on his lap.

You listened to him in silence. When he was done, you gazed into his honey-colored eyes that were trained dutifully on his bedspread and smiled. "I would burn down the world for you, Pikachu. I wish you would've trusted me with this sooner." You laughed and shook your head. "You are more important to me than you could ever imagine. If you are the UA traitor, if you are part of the League of Villians, so be it. I will shake hands with the devil if it means I will be by your side."

His blonde head snapped to attention. “Y/n...?” He looked at you quizically. This... didn’t sound like you. He knew that you were determined beyond measure to become a hero, and he didn’t expect you to be swayed so easily.

"Please, please, please don't hide anything else from me. I will always be on your side. Don't ever forget that, okay sparky?"

He looked at you, surprised that you weren't telling Aizawa about him at this moment, not that he would stop you. "Okay, my little spark."

"I love you"

"I love you too"

“... do you want to play a video game?”

“you know I do.”

“okay.”

“Hey y/n?”

“yes Denki?”

“let’s burn down the world together”

#mha #bnha #mha fanfiction #mha fanfic #my hero academia fanfic #bocu no hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #denki x reader #bnha x you

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alfredosauce50 · 3 years

Text

Method to my madness [Yandere! Switzerland x reader]

Word count: 4,144 Warning: NSFW content later in the fic. There will be a warning line before it starts, and another line to indicate its conclusion. So skip it if you don’t want to read it.

Synopsis: As a stereotypical Swiss, he never did anything unplanned and worshipped punctuality. But when it comes to you, he’d throw that all away and show up to your door unannounced. In another country. And in the middle of the school term. Why? Because he can. Because he doesn’t trust your neighbors, your raunchy one in particular. He was the polar opposite to him—lazy, sloppy, and disorganized. So when he tries to invite you to a party, Basch makes it a point to stop you from going—even if that entails doing exactly what he accused him of. The reader is referred to as she/her.

Crunching numbers occurred to him like second nature. Anything that could be explained in a book, he understood like the back of his hand. In fact, he didn’t have much trouble doing anything at all, but when it came to you, every fiber of his being would clam up. His infallible logic betrayed him like he never had any in the first place. Now was one of those times as he boarded a flight bound for California.

As he made himself comfortable in his seat, he gave the passengers around him a quick study. Already, they were stripping themselves of their outer layers. Windbreakers, jackets, coats, you name it. A middle-aged man removed his hoodie to reveal a T-shirt underneath, and with big, bold letters spelled ‘USA’, which popped out around his belly as if to emphasize it. A single thought occurred to him as he looked away with furrowed brows. Tourists.

They had their fun, and were on their way home, starting with preparing for the sweltering heat of Californian Summer. He folded his arms together and sank into his chair. He’d remove his knit later. At the moment, he had a more pressing issue in his hands. What was he supposed to say when he’d show up at your door without notice?

Hi, I felt a dire need to visit you all the way in America in the middle of your semester when I heard you were living in a dorm. But that’s not all. It would’ve been fine until you sent me a selfie with a guy in the background holding a peace sign. Then that other photo showing a different guy using your toaster. Which implies that there are numerous guys living with you. In other words, people I don’t trust alone with you.

So here I am.

Surely, that wouldn’t fly.

You’d known him as a man who had his whole life planned out in a diary. And this was hardly planned. It was spontaneous, even. Basch Zwingli, the stereotypical Swiss who looked at the clock for things to do, was being spontaneous? Hell may as well freeze over at this point. To say this would surprise you was given, but he didn’t see anything wrong with this, per se. He probably would’ve done this to Lilli, but the thing was, he wouldn’t have ever let her study abroad by herself in the first place.

She was his baby sister, but you weren’t. And that was probably why he was at your doorstep. He couldn’t oppose your choice of study, but he could sure as hell be part of it.

He knocked a few times. He could barely make out the faint ‘just a second!’, but the sound of the voice was so familiar, he froze up. But that wasn’t quite right. Hearing Lilli’s voice never made him feel this way. The door creaked open to reveal a less than presentable girl in her pajamas, an oversized shirt, and she had the messy bed hair to go with it.

And when you saw who your visitor was, the droop in your eyes disappeared.

“Basch!? Oh my god--what are you--” You could barely talk as disbelieving laughs fell from your lips. “I can’t believe it’s you! I almost couldn’t recognize your face because I didn’t expect you at all!” Reaching out to give him a tight embrace, he returned the gesture with a gentler hug.

His arms were slow to wrap around your form, but to even have your affection reciprocated at all spoke volumes of how he was feeling. It had been nearly half a year since he saw you last, and to realize he was spoiling himself with an unannounced visit sent chills down his spine. He really was pushing the envelope with this one. But he had a gut feeling he wouldn’t regret this at all.

When you pulled away, he caught you gleaming at him with the brightest of smiles. It was so infectious, he felt a light tugging at his lips. “Well, I’m here if that convinces you.”

You grinned. “What are you even doing here? My break doesn’t start until a month later! But I can say this is a good time you caught me in. I only have one more final to pull through.” Pulling him into your humble abode, you barely made it into the hallway when you failed to hear the sound of wheels. So you paused. “... Basch, where’s your stuff?”

Confusion contorted at your expression, but you looked more worried than anything. It would’ve made sense if he was planning to stay at a hotel, but that wasn’t possible. He’d rather sleep on the ground than spend hundreds of dollars for accommodation, and what was the point of visiting if he wasn’t under the same roof as you? He tensed up as he confronted how truly out of character he’d been acting.

Shit. Even he was shocked that he failed to bring the most fundamental of things for this trip. When he bought his ticket, nothing went through his mind besides the need to see you. It took up so much of his brain, it managed to block out the concept of a suitcase. Packing for a trip that was to last for months. How was he supposed to explain himself? “... They lost my suitcase on the way here.” Perfect.

Your lips formed an ‘o’ shape as you nodded in understanding. “Ah, that’s too bad. I’m sure they’ll find it for you, though. Otherwise, they’re gonna have one hell of a lawsuit.”

“... But where’s Lilli?”

Why was his sister not with him when they were practically sewed together by the hip? And for such an important visit, no less. But he came prepared in case you’d ask. “Lilli’s not here because she had school. And I saw that tickets were the cheapest during this time so I decided to come early.”

At the sound of that, any traces of worry left your face and you burst into a fit of laughter.

“Of course you did, you cheapskate. I was always wondering which trait of yours was the strongest, but now I know.” Blood rushed up to his cheeks and he forced himself to look away. But when he felt your hands settle on his shoulders, he slowly turned to you. He didn’t even know if he was supposed to regret that action, because in that very second, he realized he was wrapped around your finger.

“I’m just kidding, Basch. There’s nothing wrong with saving money. And if that means you get to visit early, I’ll love you for it.” You cracked a tender smile at him this time around, and seeing that look on your face while listening to you talk had him wondering if he was even breathing at that point.

It was almost terrifying how easily he could lose his head around you. And he thought he had a good one on his shoulders. Everyone did. How come he could barely even think straight when it came to you?

“... Right.” He tipped his head forward to let his bangs fall in front of his face. It was a gesture that was almost shy in nature, but his action revealed a small ponytail on the back of his head, which of course, stole your attention away in an instant.

You gasped to emphasize the discovery. “Aw, did you tie your hair up? It looks so good! Everyone’s gonna be asking about you now!” Giving him a teasing elbow, you watched his expression morph into dismay. “Hey, I promise it’s a good kind of curiosity. College has us all swarmed and we’re dying for something out of the ordinary. My friends will be excited to meet you!”

“Why, because I’m… European?”

“Are you asking that because I complimented your hair?” He heard a soft snort from you. “I’m from the same town as you, dummy. I think I’d count as European as well. But that’s probably what they’ll be so interested about.” That was right. “If they find out about you, they won’t stop asking about if we’re… You know what.” Your voice strained a little and you looked embarrassed, even.

He blinked. For someone so high-strung about you, he could sometimes miss the key points.

“I’m having a hard time following. About what?”

You sighed and pushed his cheeks together to muffle his words. “Why do you always have to make me say everything, hm? They’ll obviously ask if we’re dating. You’ve never met them because they always go elsewhere during the break, but everyone will be here this time.”

By everyone, he assumed that included peace-sign guy and toaster-leeching guy. Immediately, he frowned with the most potent kind of disdain he ever felt. To think they spent most of the year with you was almost disheartening. But he didn’t need to remind himself they were the reason he was here. Basch could admit he was an oblivious person at times, but he wasn’t ignorant to the promiscuous sex life in college. The men here were wolves, so he had to see for himself if he could really leave you alone here.

But he had a feeling he wouldn’t be leaving your side anytime soon.

If that was going to give your friends the wrong idea, or perhaps, the right idea about you two, then so be it. He even wanted them to assume things. Even if he didn’t think much of it, flying all the way here for an impromptu visit was more than enough to get mouths moving.

He had yet to be on the same page as them. To realize that maybe, what he was doing wasn’t because you were like a little sister to him--like Lilli--someone to be protected. Or rather, someone he had strong feelings for. But given enough time around these so-called friends of yours, he’d learn it the hard way. And who better to press his buttons than your raunchy next-door neighbor?

The day after his unexpected arrival, he’d encounter this very neighbor who found the leisure in swinging by for a visit. Basch had his hands full with dishes in the sink when a few knocks were heard. He was generous enough to make lunch and clean up, though you had to wonder if doing chores was how he’d repay the debt from all the things you had to buy for him.

He never moved from where he stood as he could already hear you scrambling to answer the door. When it creaked open, a low and playful laugh greeted you. “There’s my girl.” My what now? Turning his head to the newcomer, he felt a pang of annoyance when he saw a man lean in from the doorframe. Said man reached out to give your hair an affectionate ruffle, and immediately, Basch decided he didn’t like him.

“Mornin’. Did ya eat yet? I was gonna go to a cafe for some grub. The one that has those killer vegan pancakes. Wanna come with?”

You hummed in disappointment. “Sorry, Al. I just ate. Maybe if you came in a little earlier, I would’ve been able to come.” Placing your hands on your hips, you placed emphasis on what you later added. “It’s two.”

No, he hated him. From that brief exchange and study of his physical appearance, he knew he was practically the polar opposite of him. A lazy, good-for-nothing slob. He had two full sleeves of tattoos. Piercings decorated one of his eyebrows, and as he spoke, he saw a small silver ball on his tongue. His fiery red hair wasn’t even long, but it was still unkempt as if he just rolled out of bed and didn’t bother checking the mirror. But then again, he did greet you with ‘morning’. Basch tightened his ponytail and made his way over to you, disgruntled. “...”

Sensing his presence by your side, you patted him on the back. “This is Basch, by the way. The friend I told you about.” When you exchanged looks with Basch, your smile faltered when you saw his expression. He looked almost upset, though you hadn’t the faintest idea why.

You figured you’d ask later.

The stranger was fast to acknowledge him, and with great enthusiasm at that. “Ohh, you’re the dude who flew over from Finland or something!” His striking ruby eyes widened with fascination, and he was grinning from ear to ear. “Wow, you’re pretty high-strung bout’ her, aren’t you? Makes the two of us.”

High-strung about you? Of course, he was--whatever the hell that meant. “... Switzerland.” The blonde clarified, to where Allen merely shrugged. “Close enough.”

While you laughed off his playful jibes and apparent forgetfulness, Basch couldn’t humor him. Between him and your neighbor, they were probably completely serious about the high-strung bit. He could tell in that brief side-eye Allen gave him, almost as if he was trying to stir some kind of reaction.

So be it. Two could play at this game. Unbeknownst to your raunchy friend, Basch could be just as outspoken.

“Anyways--” Rolling his head to you, Allen shot you an expectant look. “So… What’s your answer, doll? To the party this Friday? Is it a yes or a yes?”

“She’s not going.”

Your lips separated agape to answer, but he beat you to it. His invitation was shot down just like that. Shock widened your eyes and you gawked at Basch. You knew how protective he could get, exceedingly so, but it never got to the point of canceling plans without discussion.

“What do you mean, I’m not going? Basch, it’s fine!” You exasperated, but his only response was to squeeze your hand.

Something was wrong, for sure.

“... Yeah, it’s not like anything‘s gonna happen. Not when I’m around. So what’s the big idea, man?” Allen folded his arms disapprovingly. A shrewd light glinted in his eyes when he was struck with an idea. “If you’re so worried, you can just come with. Even though you’re not her boyfriend—”

Basch felt himself go red in the face. From both anger and mortification—because Allen was right.

“... Fine. I will go with her.” He relented, albeit reluctantly. Hardening his stare at the tanned figure, someone who sounded more persistent than he liked, he let his tongue slip. “And it doesn’t matter I’m not her boyfriend. I’m still her best friend, and I care about her more than you do.”

It was a given from how long you’ve been this close to him. But that didn’t change the fact blurting that out was unlike him. It left you in a blushing tizzy to hear him explicitly say those things, and you grew hyper-aware of his iron grip on your hand.

Being protective was one thing. But when was he possessive?

Allen laughed. “Yeah, yeah. You can flex that label all you want.” Making a move to leave by turning his feet, his lips curled up into a mischievous smirk. “I don’t want it. Not when a better label’s up for grabs. Boyfriend. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Shooting you a wink to reduce you into a stuttering mess, he took his leave.

And when he did, Basch lost his shit.

“How long have you been friends with that guy? Can’t you see he’s just trying to get into your pants? He’ll probably stop being so nice to you once he does!” He fumed, taking both your hands into his as if to secure you in place. But really, you weren’t going anywhere. Not when you were about to receive the biggest lecture of your life. “You can’t hang around people like that, (F/N). You can’t trust him.”

You hung your head as a frown downturned your features. There was some truth to his words, especially when the man he spoke so ill of was a fairly new friend of yours. It was a shame to say the least because you did like having him around, but that wasn’t the biggest concern of yours at the moment. “You’re right… Kinda… I just really liked him as a friend, so I didn’t wanna say no…”

That didn’t come out right.

He thinned his lips as a grim expression contorted at his face. “... Did he do anything to you?”

You shook your head profusely. “No! God, no, of course not! Sorry, I put it weirdly. Nothing happened, really.”

Basch sighed, reaching out to pinch the bridge of his nose.

His bangs fell over his eyes to hide them. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this worked up over you, over a guy at that, but then again, he was beginning to suspect there was a little more to it than that. “... Okay. So are you gonna go to the party?”

“I don’t know. But I’ll probably go if you come with me, so…” With your free hand, you held onto the hem of his shirt. When he caught sight of the look you had on your face, he stopped breathing all over again. “I can tell something’s wrong with you. You looked really upset just then, and it’s not like you to just snap like that.”

He released you to dig through his hair, loosening the once tight strands pulled back in his ponytail.

That was right. Since when was he so possessive?

So jealous?

He bit his lip and looked positively defeated. As he fixated on the ground to avoid your gaze, he felt your hand gently cup his cheek, forcing him to look up at you. “It’s not like you to suddenly show up out of the blue, either. So tell me, why did you actually come here?”

Basch furrowed his brows and screwed his eyes shut. “... I don’t know. I just wanted to see you. That’s all.” You softened your gaze at that, feeling your chest swell up with warmth. He was always brutally honest, but he was more ambiguous when it came to how he felt.

So to hear him admit his troubles so easily had you almost worried about him.

As if he sensed this worry, he offered you a small smile of reassurance.

“Don’t worry about me. I swear there’s nothing wrong.”

Or that was what he wished, at least, because he was far from okay.

To make things worse, Allen wasn’t patient enough for today because he dropped by two more times after meeting Basch for the first time. Nearly a week had passed since then. This only proved his suspicions—that all he wanted was to get in your pants—and it left Basch positively restless. So restless that he couldn’t leave you alone.

It was finally Friday, and you were in your room browsing for outfits for the night. The man was sleeping like a log in your bed, and after a few unsuccessful attempts at waking him up, you decided to change with him in the room. How he ended up in your sheets wasn’t anything out of character, per se.

In the previous few days, he followed you around everywhere you went. That, you were perfectly fine with, but sleeping in your bed? He was pushing it. Despite your valiant efforts to get him back into the guest room, it was unparalleled to his own determination. What could you say? He was as stubborn as a mule. That statement would manifest into reality as he stirred awake.

Sitting up with the worst bed hair you’d ever seen, you found yourself covering your chest instinctively as he stared dead into your eyes with his own drooping ones. “Basch! Sorry, um, I couldn’t wake you so I decided to just…” Blood rushed up to your cheeks as he continued to stare, wordlessly. “Basch?”

You watched him slide off the mattress and saunter over. Holding your wrists and lowering them, he exposed your bra, but he never gave you the chance to complain. Instead, he loomed his head over yours and glowered at you. “You’re not going.”

Goosebumps pricked all over your skin when his hot breath fanned over your lips, and you were much too taken aback by his closeness to object. In fact, his face was so close, his nose was brushing against yours. “Wait, what are you--” Your whispers were cut off abruptly when he sealed your mouth with his.

He was kissing you. Albeit innocently as he parted frequently, pecking your lips over and over again. As gentle as he was, he still left you breathless, but flustered and confused all the same. But you didn’t have the heart to push him off you as your mind raced with questions. Why was he doing this? Had he always felt this way? There was a tenderness in his touch that told you he had.

But why didn’t he ever tell you?

When he finally parted, he kept his forehead pressed against yours. “Just tell him you’re not interested.” He frowned. “Say you already have a boyfriend. I’ll pretend if I have to.”

Because he’d been denying it.

“But--” Basch kissed you again, leaving a silvery strand of saliva connecting your lips as he parted. Your chest was rising and falling in a fervent manner as you struggled to breathe--the same plight he’d been facing for a while. Frankly speaking, you were at a loss from how much control you let him have over you. But you never tried to push him away. At this point, the throbbing in your chest had completely shattered your resolve. “--why are you kissing me if we’re pretending? There’s nobody here but us.”

His cheeks reddened before he tugged you along to your bed. Seating you on his lap, he attached his hands to your waist and squeezed it, making you yelp out in surprise. “If you’re letting me kiss you, then how are we pretending?” You blushed at that, realizing you had just as much of a part to blame.

Leaning in at that, he fanned his breath over your lips. “It just means it’s real.”

He still wasn’t processing the weight of his actions and just how out of line he was acting. But then again, he never did either of those things when it came to you. And it wasn’t like you were stopping him, either. So really, you were just as guilty for letting things go out of hand. Though you had to wonder if this was how things were supposed to be, especially when you continued kissing him in his lap.

*NSFW content ahead*

Said kissing escalated along with the heat of your bodies, all until he had his tongue in your mouth.

He never realized how much he’d wanted this until he had you under him, squeezing his neck as he left lovebites all over yours. Then, he made his way down to your shoulder and collarbones, chewing on your flesh until he memorized the taste of you. But he couldn’t say he was satisfied. Not until he truly crossed your boundaries and went all the way.

That was where this was going, after all.

Rather than going to that party Allen invited you to, you spent the whole night having sex with Basch. To say it was a psychedelic experience was an understatement.

As he held you down to make love to you, letting his arousal curve deep into your walls at every strong thrust he gave, he had you writhing in pleasure so good, the last remnants of your sound mind were completely destroyed. So while you would’ve been fussing about the fact he didn’t use any protection, you couldn’t, not when he fucked you silly.

To him, this was a culmination of everything he wanted. To have you for himself. And this rampant desire was so potent, it inundated him. Tugging apart the strands that held his self-control and reason together, he lost his head.

You never imagined he’d be so energetic and reckless in bed, even cumming inside you, twice, on purpose, when he was always so high-strung about safety. But as you found yourself on his thighs again, trembling as you sunk down to the base of his cock, you could watch him unravel with all sorts of animated expressions you’d never seen before.

Desperation, lust, and an aggressive infatuation as he bounced you on his imposing member. Bringing you close so he could bite your ear, you could hear the shivering in his breathing as he held back his moans. “You drive me so fucking crazy sometimes...” He whispered.

*NSFW content ends*

That was the first time you ever heard him curse, too. So maybe, you really were driving him crazy. This would become more apparent the next morning as he slept in past noon, something he hadn’t done in years.

And depending on if you’d remember or not, he’d buy you some morning-after pills.

Because something happening wasn’t a big concern of his.

In fact, it excited him.

#hetalia fanfiction #aph #aph switzerland #aph switzerland x reader #reader insert #x reader #switzerland x reader #yandere #yandere hetalia #yandere!switzerland #yandere switzerland #hetalia fanfic #hws switzerland #Axis Powers Hetalia #Axis powers ヘタリア

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scuttling · 3 years

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Vacation (All I Ever Wanted)

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairing: Aaron Hotchner/Latina OFC Sophie Cortes Word Count: 11,425 (Broken into 3 chapters on A03) Tags: SFW, Pre-relationship, Getting together, Vacation, Dancing, Drinking, Flirting, Pining, Minor pre-relationship Morgan/Garcia Summary: The team takes a much needed vacation, and things between Sophie and Aaron heat up. Collection: Sophie Cortes timeline, 1 year-1 year 3 mo at the BAU (See Masterlist for reading order) Link to AO3 or read below!

Friday It’s Garcia’s idea for the team to go to Virginia Beach for the weekend, everyone stressed out from the work week and in desperate need of some fun. Hotch and Gideon initially decline—it sounds like a bit too much fun, a young person’s trip—but Sophie announces “if everyone doesn’t go, no one goes,” and that kind of makes the decision for them.

They pile into two cars—Hotch, Gideon, Reid, and Sophie in one and Morgan, Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ in the other—to make the three hour drive on a Friday afternoon, and Gideon calls in a favor from a friend and gets them a beautiful house on the beach for the weekend.

“So after we get settled in, what’s next?” Prentiss asks as they unload the cars, their usual go-bags abandoned in favor of normal luggage.

“Dinner! Please say dinner,” Sophie pleads, and Emily pats her on the head affectionately.

“Okay, little one, dinner it is.”

“I know a great place down the boardwalk with plenty of options for vegetarians,” Garcia states, heels clicking on the tile of the kitchen, and the plans kind of evolve from there. Everyone heads to their rooms to change from work clothes to more appropriate attire, and soon they’re mostly gathered in the kitchen, just waiting for the stragglers.

Sophie, he notices (can’t help but notice anymore, and he’s come to terms with that,) looks incredibly beautiful in a silky, tropical print sundress and nude heels; she belongs in this kind of environment, salt air blowing her hair, slight flush on her cheeks. She looks like a goddamn supermodel, and it only serves to make his heart ache that much more when he looks at her.

“We should go dancing after dinner,” JJ, the last to join the group, mentions, and almost everyone agrees. Gideon grumbles something like, ‘damn kids’ as they file out of the house, and Hotch can’t help but laugh.

They find an Italian restaurant everyone can agree on that can accommodate them on short notice, and they’re seated quickly; Sophie is swiftly pacified by a basket of bread and a glass of wine, and everyone is happy, laughing, just as intended.

“What is calamari, again? I know it’s some type of disgusting seafood,” Garcia says, looking over the menu with a grimace, and Sophie returns the expression.

“Calamari, my dear, is Italian for squid.” She makes a fake retching noise, then turns to her partner. “Dr. Reid, give us a fun fact about squid.”

“While often confused with the octopus, squid have eight legs plus two tentacles, which actually makes them Decapods. The tentacles are used to grab prey and the legs are used to control it.” He smiles, looking pleased that he was asked to give a piece of trivia about something unrelated to a case, and Sophie grins back.

“Thank you. I didn’t know about the tentacles.” She tilts her head to look back to her menu, but catches Hotch’s eye and smiles.

He’s a little proud that he managed to pick the perfect partner for Reid, even if it meant the position was vacant for longer than he would have liked; he truly can’t imagine the BAU without Sophie, even if he is a bit biased now.

After dinner, Gideon retires back to the house, and the rest of them make their way to a beachside bar JJ finds with good reviews. Everyone is about two drinks in, and everyone but Hotch is dancing: Morgan and Garcia are dancing together, JJ and Prentiss are dancing together, and Sophie is doing her best to teach Reid how to dance.

“Put your right hand here,” she guides, placing his hand on her slim waist, “none of the hand-on-butt most guys prefer.”

“There’s something to be said for hand-on-butt,” Morgan shouts over the noise, and the girls laugh.

“Yes, there is, but time and place. I’m teaching him how to dance; someone else is going to have to teach him that.” She smiles up at him and takes his other hand, clasps their fingers together, and holds their arms out a bit. “Arms like this for now, or a little closer when you get closer to your partner.” She demonstrates by hovering her hand over his chest. “If they do this, they're getting comfortable, you can lean a little closer. Might even be a good time for a kiss, if you think it’s heading that way.”

“How do I know if it’s heading that way?”

“Well, social cues and body language are important. If I were you, I’d observe the other people in this room. Personally, if I want to kiss someone, I can’t take my eyes off of them leading up to it. Either their eyes, or, you know. Their lips.” Her own turn up in a smile. “If they're looking at your lips, you should probably kiss them.”

She rests her hand lightly on his arm, just above his elbow, and they take a few steps, a smile and kind words of encouragement passing her lips. “That’s good. I know you’re nervous now, but when you’re dancing with someone you really like, it will feel more natural. Like you’re the only two people in the whole world.” They take a few turns around the floor, and then switch partners, Garcia with JJ, Morgan with Sophie, Prentiss with Reid.

A bit of time passes—team members have come to the table to rest, hydrate, drink, in shifts—and then Sophie heads toward him, shaking her head with a soft laugh.

“That kid is so smart about most things, and then just hopeless about others,” she tells him as she stands at his side, taking a sip of water. “Don’t you like to dance?”

“I do, but you guys are having your fun. I don’t mind keeping an eye on things.” She raises an eyebrow, takes the beer out of his grasp and then takes his hand, pulling him to the dance floor. She catches Reid’s attention and then points to the table they abandoned.

“Will you keep an eye on the drinks, please? Hotch is off duty.” He nods seriously, hops off the stool he’s perched on and heads for the table; Hotch makes a noise of protest.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“He’s observing, he can do that from over there. You aren’t our unit chief right now, you’re a man on vacation, and if you like dancing, you should dance.” She stops, stands in front of him, looking a little deflated. “I’m sorry. Do you want to dance with me? I’m being overbearing.”

“It would be my pleasure,” he says honestly, with a smile, and she returns the gesture. He places his hand carefully on her waist, takes her hand just like she’d shown Reid earlier; she lays her left arm along his, hand at his shoulder, and they move easily, smoothly across the floor. “Where did you learn how to dance? You seem like a good teacher,” he says softly after a moment, fearful that he’ll break the bubble they’re in if he speaks any louder.

“My aunt owned a dance studio, and my cousin Damian and I were always getting thrown in to demonstrate when she was short handed. I taught a couple classes there while I was putting myself through school.” A couple passes by them, closer than it seems either of them are comfortable with, and they squeeze a little closer together, his hand wrapping across her back, their arms tucking in.

“What kind of dancing do you do?”

“Mostly waltz, rumba, salsa. You?” He’s heard of waltz, salsa, doesn’t know much about rumba, but can imagine she looks graceful, gorgeous, when she dances it.

“Mostly just this. Do you ever go dancing back at home?”

“Sometimes. It’s hard without a partner, because guys can be creeps. They think that dancing means you have to go home with them.” He’s sure his eyes harden, thinking about what men must put her through when she’s just trying to enjoy herself, other women as well. It’s one of many things that irritates him about his gender. “I know dancing with a partner is sexy, but I can separate the dancing from the sexy. When I want to.” She glances up at him, and he’s probably imagining it, but it seems like she might be looking at his lips.

The song ends, transitions into one that’s slower, and they get a little closer, so that her hand presses against his chest, her head almost resting against his shoulder. She feels so good in his arms, smells like heaven, and he would love nothing more than to stay like that all night, but by the end of the song most of the others are back at the table, looking a little faded, and he supposes this good thing must come to an end. As if she senses the shift in his mood, she steps back with a smile.

“Thank you for dancing with me. You’re a great partner.”

“Better than Reid?” he asks with a smile, though it’s all in fun; he’s happy he got to see the youngest agent let loose for once.

“Yes. No offense to him,” she tacks on, and they both laugh softly, “but I like a man who can lead.” He wants to keep her hand in his, to lead her back to the table with their friends, to the house, to her room, but he knows it’s not wise, or even possible, so he lets her walk ahead and tries not to get too caught up in his own mind. They walk back to the house as a group, laughing and bantering as usual, and mostly everyone heads straight to bed—with the exception of Derek and Sophie, who are chatting in the kitchen and making a late-night PB&J.

“I can’t believe you got the boss man dancing,” Derek says, pouring a glass of milk to go with his sandwich, and Sophie laughs softly.

“I practically forced him to, I wouldn’t read that much into it.” He cocks a brow.

“I don’t know, you two looked pretty cozy. Dancing around like you didn’t have a care in the world.” He mimics a waltzing hold, spinning around the kitchen with his eyes closed; she laughs, a little shy, then tries to make a joke of it to hide her emotion.

“What can I say, I’ve got chemistry with everyone; it's a blessing and a curse.” He gestures between them with the hand not holding his glass.

“You and I don’t have that kind of chemistry.”

“That’s because you’re sharing all yours with Penelope,” she teases, taking a bite of her sandwich, and he chuckles.

“That’s just me and my girl. You know how we are.”

“Yes, I do: deeply in denial.” He looks at her with serious eyes, pointing at her, then himself, when he speaks again.

“Pot, kettle.”

“I’m not in denial about anything, trust me,” she replies, looking down at her plate. “I am very aware of my feelings at all times.”

“Okay, so there are feelings.” She rolls her eyes lightly.

“I’m not a robot, I have feelings.”

“For Hotch?” he asks, and the question is far too direct for her liking. She sighs.

“Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. He’s still my boss. So don’t go trying to play Cupid or something.”

“Me? Interfere with your social life?” She scoffs, and he grins. “I’m just saying. There are ways around the boss thing, if you do have feelings for him.”

“And I’m just saying, it’s totally fine for a special agent to date a technical analyst. You don’t even need a way around it.” She shoots him a toothy, bratty smile, and he messes up her hair, earning a groan.

“Alright, enough of this talk, you’re making me tired.” He rinses his dishes, loads them into the dishwasher. “You wanna get into your feelings later, you let me know.”

“Same goes for you,” she calls as he heads down the hall. She cleans up her dishes too, walks to her room, sighing when she passes Hotch’s door. Saturday “She’s a masochist,” Garcia says the next morning, sipping a cup of coffee and looking out the open kitchen window, and Hotch has no idea what she’s talking about, but he has to find out.

He sighs when he sees, should have known that it would be Sophie, bright eyed and bushy tailed even after their late night, doing yoga in the sun on a patch of grass in front of the house. Her outfit is absolutely minuscule—a partially mesh sports bra, teeny tiny, high-waisted spandex shorts—and she’s getting lots of looks from the men on the beach passing by.

“Bitch,” JJ adds, stepping up beside them, sucking on the straw of an iced coffee. “How is she even functional right now?”

“She operates on a different wavelength than the rest of us,” he supplies, as that’s his only guess so far. He runs to stay fit for work and to relieve stress, sure, but he’s not waking up at 6 AM on vacation to do it for fun.

“I think that she feels inadequate sometimes, for being the smallest of us, and that she overcompensates by never letting herself rest. It’s also why she’s so proficient with firearms. If one of us got hurt because someone overpowered her, she wouldn’t let herself live it down.” That’s Reid, and he may have a little partner insight that the rest don’t, but his opinion is probably correct. Hotch also knows that she’s hard on herself, constantly training her mind and body so she won’t make mistakes; it’s probably something they should discuss more, now that he thinks of it.

“That’s deep,” Garcia says, looking over at Reid, and he nods, sips his coffee too.

“She’s very complex, while somehow also being the simplest person to talk to.”

“What are we lookin’ at?” Gideon asks as he sees the line of agents lined up at the window. When he glances out of it, he chuckles, shakes his head, and keeps walking. “Like the energizer bunny, that one. Makes all the rest of us look bad.”

She shifts into a position that makes it look like she’s sitting with her legs crisscrossed, which might not be difficult, except that she’s balanced on her head; Hotch can’t even marvel at the flexibility that takes, too focused on the effort she must be using to maintain the pose.

“God, what am I even looking at, here?” Morgan asks as he joins the group, protein shaker cup in hand. “And you all thought I was bad.”

“At least she’s not running. If she was running, I’d have to kill her,” JJ mumbles, and Garcia smiles.

“Oh she already ran, honey. Came back in to get the yoga blanket thingy. Said running in the sand is, and I quote, ‘such a fun challenge.’”

There are many sounds of disgust from the group, which seems to draw Prentiss out; she squeezes in between them, reaches out to take JJ’s coffee, sipping through the straw, and exhales.

“Yep, I am definitely gay.” She raps on the window, and Sophie turns her head toward them; she squints her eyes at the group, then tips over so that her feet touch the mat, rising to stand in a way that looks much more effortless than it has to be.

“What the hell are you doing, weirdos?”

“We’re not worthy!” Prentiss teases, mock-bowing in her direction and earning a laugh.

“All right, all right, I’m coming in. Freaking voyeurs,” she mumbles, folding up her blanket. “You too, Hotch?” she asks as she enters the house, walking past him, and all he can do is shrug.

“I was just admiring your form, that’s all.” She gives him a look, partially I doubt it and partially something like, I dare you, and he feels himself get a little hot under the collar.

If one look from her is all it takes, then he’s already in way over his head.

...Then comes the bikini.

It’s nothing outrageous, something simple and sporty enough that she plays volleyball with JJ and Morgan and a couple of other people on the beach, but it’s the least he’s ever seen her wear, so his mouth may water, a little bit.

And is it sad that he wishes she'd have asked him for help putting sunblock on her shoulders? Is it creepy? Regardless, she has Morgan rub it in, and then she does him, because—“as my mama says: just because you’re brown doesn't mean you can clown around.”

“Oh my god, I can already tell I will love your mom. I have to meet her.” She rubs the sunblock into his shoulders, earning playful banter from Garcia about running your hands all over my man, and yes, Hotch is irrationally jealous, and yes, he knows it’s stupid. “Anyone else need some?” She scans the group—Garcia is under an umbrella and clearly plans to stay there, JJ and Prentiss shared some cream that helps you tan faster, Gideon is already fast asleep beneath an umbrella of his own—and shakes the bottle at Reid. “Gonna take off your shirt, doc?”

“I’m gonna pass, but thanks,” he tells her, clearly a little self-conscious, and she just smiles easily.

“Okay, well let me know if you change your mind.” She turns to Hotch, then, smile still broad, runs her eyes up and down his t-shirt before meeting his gaze. “How about you, boss? Do you wanna take that off for me?” Her brow is quirked, her look again sending a flash of arousal through him, and he just shakes his head; he can’t say for certain that he wouldn’t do something very stupid with her hands on his body. “Alright. If you change your mind, my offer stands.” She turns away, and Morgan says something to her, too low for Hotch to hear; it earns him a playful shove.

They stay on the beach until late afternoon, swimming or reading, playing frisbee or sunbathing, and anything and everything in between. He takes a moment to check his work email when he thinks no one is paying attention, but soon feels a cool drop of water land on his arm; he looks behind him, and Sophie is peering over his shoulder with wet hair and a frown.

“Are you incapable of relaxing?” she asks, grabbing for his phone, and he pulls it out of her reach, so she’s forced to either put a hand on his shoulder for balance or fall. She reaches again, and they battle back and forth for it, not because he cares as much as he’s enjoying the attention. It’s childish, he knows. “Damn it, Hotch. I’m trying to… help you.” She has her arms on either side of his neck, trying to cut him off and get the phone out of his grasp, and her mouth is right at his ear when she says, “I’m going to get you to loosen up if it kills me.”

The comment is both very sweet and very tempting, and he catches her wrist, presses his phone into her palm. She disengages her arms from around his neck and sinks down into the sand next to him; she’s flushed from the little bit of exertion, and her eyes are soft when they peer into his.

“I just want you to have a good time and not worry about the BAU for once in your life,” she murmurs, pushing her hand through her wet hair. “Or you’re going to die young from stress and I’ll feel a little bad I didn’t stop it.”

“Just a little bad?” he teases, and she rolls her eyes playfully.

“I’ll feel really bad, so, just. Cut it out. Read your book. People watch. Do anything but work.” With a soft smile, she leans closer, hands him back his phone. “For me?” He looks into her eyes, wants to tell her he would do anything for her, but instead, he nods.

“Okay. For you.” Her returning smile is brilliant, and she rests a hand on his shoulder for a moment before using it to boost herself up to standing. She brushes sand off her butt, and he can’t be blamed for looking, he just can’t.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come swim?” she asks, and he blinks back into focus, shakes his head.

“Maybe later. I think I’m going to people watch,” he says, and if she is the person he chooses to watch, well. No one will be any the wiser.

“Sophie, oh my god.” She turns at the sound of her name, slipping the back onto her earring and staring at Emily with a confused look.

“What did I do?” she asks seriously. All she’s actually done since they came in from the beach was eat a grilled cheese, take a quick shower (daydreaming, just a little, about what it would have been like if Hotch let her rub sunscreen onto his shoulders), and get dressed, so there’s literally no way she’s earned the tone.

“I’m guessing you haven’t seen Hotch since he changed.” Her eyes glaze over as she imagines it—maybe he’s wearing a button-up shirt like last night, the sleeves rolled up, or maybe he opted for another thin, faded t-shirt like the one he wore to the beach…

“Uh, no, I haven’t. But what does that have to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” is all she says, grinning, and Sophie wonders for a moment if she’s actually not being that sneaky about her thing for him, and if everyone knows. Morgan’s inferences are bad enough.

She shakes the thought, because if the whole team did know about her crush, she would know about it. She’d never be able to live it down, and she would definitely know about it.

She finishes getting ready, sees what all the fuss is about when she enters the kitchen and is faced with a broad back with a blue polo stretched across it—the same shade of blue as the patterned dress she’s wearing.

She groans. They’re definitely gonna make a big deal about this.

“I say we make a break for it,” she says, and he turns at the sound of her voice, looks her up and down, and smiles crooked, gorgeous. “They’re going to make us take a picture, and I know how you hate pictures.”

“I do hate pictures, but maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll make it onto your dresser.” She takes a good, long look at his body—the polo is tight, hinting at his pecs, his stomach, and his arms look amazing—and can’t help but flirt a little.

“Are you just trying to get invited back into my bedroom? ‘Cause all you had to do was ask, Hotch.” His eyes get dark, smoldering, and then JJ and Garcia walk in, talking over each other and demanding photographic evidence.

She rolls her eyes lightly, and so does he, but he puts his hand on her back, pulls her close, and they smile for the camera. That night, they go for dinner, and drinks, but no dancing, and Hotch feels at a bit of a loss; it had been so nice to dance with Sophie, to hold her in his arms however briefly. He had kind of been hoping for more of the same.

She wears another lovely dress, light and gauzy, and blue—the same color as his shirt, which makes for a slight moment of hysteria from their coworkers—and he longs to put his hands on her waist, to see her smile, to smell her perfume.

He briefly wonders if he will ever get over wanting what he can’t have.

Hotch goes to the bar to grab a round of drinks when it’s his turn, and an attractive blonde woman about his age makes small talk, which escalates to some mild flirting; she smiles at him in a way that makes him think that, if he had been looking to spend the night with a woman, he wouldn’t have had to look very far. He’s not sure why that makes him uncomfortable.

The bartender is obviously swamped, and he’s thinking about giving up and going back to the table just to get away from the woman’s eyes, her voice, when warm hands wrap around his bicep.

“There you are, honey. I’m glad I found you.” Sophie wedges in between them, not sparing the woman a second glance, all eyes on him. “Drinks going to take a while?”

“Yeah, I think they’re understaffed. I’m sorry I kept you waiting.” He wraps his arm around her back, pulling her close, and she touches his chest softly with her palm.

“No problem. You know I’d wait forever for you.” She smiles brightly up at him, and the woman mumbles something unkind, throws down a few bills, and walks away. Sophie laughs, but doesn’t put any distance between them. “It looked like you needed a save. I hope I didn’t misread the situation.”

“You absolutely did not misread,” he assures with a shake of his head. “She would have eaten me alive if you hadn’t come along.”

“It’s a good thing I’m here, then. To protect your virtue.” She runs both hands down his chest—keeping up appearances in case the woman is watching, he assumes—and it prompts him to lean closer to her.

“I’m glad you’re here for more than that reason,” he says, however foolishly, and she sighs softly, pulls back so she’s not in his easy grasp.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…” She walks away from him quickly, and he doesn’t reach for her arm, knows she doesn't like that, but he does follow her out to the balcony. The night is warm, with a cool breeze, and it blows her hair as she looks out at the water.

“I’m sorry I said that.” He puts his hands on the railing, and she looks over at him, curiously. “I say more than I should around you, and there’s no excuse.” She turns to face him fully, arms crossed, face closed off and hard to read.

“Did you mean it, though? Did you mean it when you kissed my head and told me to let someone into my life? Did you mean it when you said you want to be here for me, and you wiped away my tears? Did you mean it when you were watching me do yoga this morning, when you watched me play volleyball in a bikini?” He opens his mouth to speak, but can’t find the words to deny it, or to help solve this problem.

“Yes, I meant all of that, and I realize now that what I thought was harmless was not so harmless after all.”

“You realize that because you know I felt led on? Or because you were just having fun and you didn’t expect me to pay such close attention?”

“You felt led on? I…” He feels his face scrunch in confusion.

“You told me I was amazing, you held my face in your hands, you pretended to be my boyfriend at the pizza shop. You came upstairs with me on my birthday and you took off my shoes and you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me. And I showed you my family, and you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me. And we danced, closer than I danced with Reid, closer than I would dance with anyone else, and you looked at me like you wanted to kiss me. This morning, I felt your eyes on me; at the beach, I felt your eyes on me. I feel them all the time, and I thought it was wishful thinking, but now I know it’s you looking.” His mouth goes dry, and he pushes a hand through his hair, feels as if walls are crashing down around him.

“Sophie, I can’t apologize enough. I’ve been behaving inappropriately for a while, and this weekend I let my guard down, and I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” He looks over at her, ready to see rage, or hurt, but all he sees is… hope.

“I’m not uncomfortable, Hotch. I just need you to tell me that you said and did all those things because you want me. Not because you thought I wanted to hear them, or because you felt some... I don’t know, little sister affection for me.”

“I didn’t say anything because I thought you wanted to hear it, and believe me, what I feel for you… It’s not little sister affection.” He looks into her eyes, apologetic. “I should have come to you when I realized my feelings were becoming inappropriate.”

“Hotch, I’m trying to tell you,” she says softly, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, “that it’s not inappropriate for you to want me, because I want you too.” His mind goes blank at that, the potential panic attack falling away and leaving him with just… what?

“You, what?”

“All of those things... I felt you getting closer to me, and I was getting closer to you. I was looking, too. And when you told me I should let someone in, when you told me that I should start dating again, I thought you were saying you wanted it to be us.” He takes a step toward her, wants to take her face in his hands again but resists, for the time being. “Is that what you were saying? Is that what you want?”

“I—yes. That’s what I want.” It’s all he wants, can’t think of a single thing in his life he’s wanted more, and the look on her face makes him think he might actually be able to have it.

“Then kiss me,” she murmurs, taking a step toward him. Her eyes are warm and clear, sparkling in the moonlight. “If you mean it.”

He slips his arm around her waist, caresses her cheek, and pulls her close for a deep, slow, passionate kiss. It’s everything he imagined, everything he’s been wanting, and she wraps her arms around his shoulders, pulls him closer yet. She is soft against his body, beneath his hands, and they kiss for so long he forgets about the world around them, just sinks his fingers in her hair, breathes in the scent of sunscreen and coconut shampoo, relishes the feel of her soft lips against his. It’s absolute heaven.

“I haven’t been able to think of anything but kissing you all night,” she breathes when they break apart, wetting her lips, and her hands run over his chest again. He leans in for a soft, quick kiss, pushing her hair behind her ear, and smiles down at her.

“I don’t think I’ve thought of anything else for months,” he confides, touching her chin. She smiles brightly, just like he’d hoped she would, and she puts her hands on his arms, bites her bottom lip.

“Well, I’ve thought of a lot of things. Some had to do with these arms…” Her eyes rake over his chest and shoulders, and he feels himself heat under her gaze. “Most of them have to do with all of you, though.” He groans, pulls her closer with hands on her hips.

“If we weren’t here with the rest of the team…” Her eyes get wide, and she laughs, a short sound of surprise.

“Oh my god, I forgot. I well and truly forgot about the rest of them for a second.” He thrills at that, bends for another lengthy kiss, and her eyes are dark when he pulls back. “How am I supposed to go the rest of the night pretending I don’t know how well you kiss?” she asks, chest heaving, and all he wants to do is kiss her, repeatedly, learn all the ways her body responds to it. “Oh I know: I’m going to get drunk and hope no one notices me staring at your mouth. Worked on my birthday.”

He grins at the thought of her, then, now, drunk and looking at him across the table, watching him, and presses his lips to hers softly. Now that he’s started, he can’t seem to get enough.

“Okay. I’ll stay sober in case you need me to carry you home.”

“Mmm, why do I love the sound of that so much?” she asks no one in particular, wrapping her arms around him in an embrace. “I feel obligated to say we should get back in there; it’s only a matter of time until someone comes looking for us. But…” She trails off, brings a hand to his face and sighs, content. “I’m happy right here and I don’t want to leave this spot.”

“Me too.” He kisses her, and her fingers glide through his hair, tugging softly, making him moan. “Okay, we really better go in now, because I could lose track of everything if you keep doing that.” She smiles, like she likes the thought of making him lose his mind, and he can’t help but return the expression. “Do you want to go in first?”

“No, we can go in together. I got this, promise.” She takes his hand, presses her lips to it, and then drops it, and they head back to the table.

“Where have you two been?” Prentiss asks as they return, and Sophie smiles happily.

“Needed fresh air. Why, did you miss me?”

“Yes, but we also missed our drinks. Sent Reid for them when we realized you two had run off.” Sophie’s face falls a little, eyes a bit sad.

“I’m sorry, that’s my fault. I was upset about something and Hotch went outside with me, helped me talk through it. I’m okay now,” she adds with a brighter expression when it looks like they want to ask about it. It's not technically a lie, either. “So what are we talking about?”

“We’re talking about the craziest thing we’ve ever done,” Morgan says with a teasing grin. “Let me guess, yours is: returned a library book late.” She shoots him an unamused glare.

“Joke’s on you, I would never return a library book late.” The table erupts in laughter, and she sips at her now watered down gin and tonic. “But you’ve made your point, I’m boring. I’m sure you had a threesome with twins and JJ fought a bear in the woods of Pennsylvania and Emily followed The Cure on tour across the country.”

“I did not do that, but trust me, young Emily wishes she had,” Prentiss says with a grin and a sip of her drink. “Mine was going to a rave in Paris that was busted, running from the cops.”

“Okay I’m sorry, that’s way cooler than the Cure thing. What about you, JJ?”

“I played chicken a lot when I was a teenager. Like in Footloose,” she describes, laughing. “Probably should have died, but the dumb boys always got scared first and I won.”

“Chicken champion,” Morgan calls her, making her dissolve into laughter. “Mine was stealing a car, going on a joyride. Only time I’ve ever broken 100 miles per hour.”

“You’re all criminals, I get it now. No wonder you think I’m so boring,” Sophie teases. “You guys?” she asks Reid and Garcia. Garcia grins.

“I hacked the FBI, remember? Doesn’t get much crazier than that.”

“I went skydiving,” Reid says simply, and Sophie is surprised, to say the least. Hotch is too.

“Skydiving! Spencer Reid, you’re holding out on us. When was this?”

“When I turned 21, I wanted to do something special, so I just decided one day. I went by myself. It was terrifying.”

“Wow, I may never get over this. That is so cool.” She leans across the table, bumps her fist with his. When she leans back in her seat, she looks to Hotch with curious eyes. “Alright, I know you’ve got a story. What’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?”

“I haven’t done many crazy things,” he begins honestly. “I guess the craziest would be backpacking in Europe by myself, on a whim. I’d just graduated high school and was feeling… afraid of the future, I suppose. I was only gone two months, but I did feel different when I came back.”

“Okay, that’s crazy to me. I’ve definitely never had the guts.”

“I can totally see young Hotch backpacking through Europe,” Garcia adds, and he smiles.

“It was stupid, but I met a lot of interesting people. You really haven’t done anything crazy?” he asks Sophie, who has seemed a little reserved the last few minutes, so different from the girl on the balcony.

“Nope. No crimes, no drugs, no underage drinking or fights or spontaneous trips anywhere. I went to school, went to work, went home, and when I was done with school, I went to work and went home.” She twirls the straw in her glass for a moment, and then sits up with a smile. “Oh, wait. I have something. This may not seem that cool to you guys, but walking home one day in Chicago, I saw a flyer for a band that needed a singer, so I tried out. That was pretty spontaneous.”

“Did they like you?” Reid asks, and she nods excitedly.

“Yeah, actually. I ended up singing for them for about a year before I left Chicago.”

“Okay, you were in a band for a year and didn’t think you had any fun stories to share,” Prentiss clarifies. “That’s awesome.”

“We need to hear you sing,” Hotch tells her seriously, and she gets shy, blushes, adorable.

“Ah, no. Maybe back home—my friend owns a bar, and I sing there sometimes. Karaoke or open mic.”

“I learned two things about you tonight, Cortes: you sing, and you have a friend besides us.” Sophie smacks Morgan’s shoulder, making him laugh.

“Well I prefer quality over quantity—yourself excluded.” He feigns hurt, puts his hand over his heart. “And on that note, I need a couple shots. I’m not nearly as drunk as I want to be.” She stands, puts her hand on the back of Hotch’s chair. “Want to try again?” He does, if only to spend a few minutes with her away from the group, stands up and walks beside her to the bar.

“You don’t have to do crazy things to be interesting, you know,” he tells her as they lean companionably against the bar, waiting for their drinks. “I find you very interesting exactly the way you are.” She smiles, a tender, private thing.

“Thank you. I’m glad you do. I find you interesting, too. I want to know what makes you tick; I think I spend too much time trying to figure you out, actually. I’m surprised no one has noticed.”

“I’m simple. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“That will be a long conversation for another time, believe me.” She shifts closer, so their arms are pressed together, and it shouldn’t feel as good to him as it does, her warm skin against his. “I want to know everything there is to know about Aaron Hotchner.”

“And I want to tell you,” he assures her, wants to put his arm around her back, but knows their friends are watching them closely this time. He thinks maybe they’ve noticed more than she believes.

Their drinks are ready much faster this time, and when they return to the table she hands out shots to those who want them while he hands out other drinks to those who don’t. She takes two shots in succession, and he smiles to himself, thinking of her earlier plan.

“You’re crazy, I love Julia Roberts,” Prentiss says about an hour later, when those drinking to get drunk have already done so, and then some. “She’s America’s sweetheart, she’s so beautiful.”

“Okay but we’re talking your dream celebrity hook up,” Morgan clarifies. “You’re telling me Julia Roberts is your dream hook up?”

“Yes. She made me feel things in Pretty Woman, with those long legs in the tub?”

“Yes, the tub,” Sophie agrees, and when she gets some curious looks, she sighs. “It’s stupid to assume everyone is straight all the time, and no one ever asked. I swing all ways, as in, even though I don’t date and haven’t had sex with anyone but myself in far too long to admit to, I like to look at everybody.” She’s moved closer to him in the last hour, and her thigh presses purposefully up against his. “Some people more than others.”

“Oh, we know we’ve gotten Sophie drunk if she’s talking about her sex life,” JJ teases.

“I’m never shy about my sex life, it’s my love life I don’t tell you about, because it’s practically non-existent.”

“And whose fault is that? You’ve been hung up on someone we know nothing about for months. Make a move or move on.”

“I’m working on it. Bossy,” she mutters, presses her thigh against his again. He wants to grab it, pull her legs into his lap, but knows he can’t get away with it. “Hotch, tell her to leave me alone.”

“JJ, leave her alone,” he says just to make Sophie smile; she does, and JJ sticks her tongue out at her.

“Okay, boss’s pet.”

That shouldn’t send a thrill through him, but it does, affects Sophie, too, if the straightening of her spine is any indication. As quickly as it happened, she slumps against the table, chin in her hand. He wonders why, but then her other hand moves to his leg, and he thinks maybe she did it to provide some cover. Clever girl.

“I want to be home. Home home, my own private home, not a house I share with all of you,” she murmurs, and Reid frowns.

“Why? Aren’t you having fun?”

“I am having fun! I am. But it would be different fun. I’ll explain it when you’re older.” Hotch can’t help himself, chuckles at that, and Sophie looks over at him, smiles. “Are we calling it a night? If I get any drunker I’m going to get into trouble.” They share eye contact that probably lasts a beat too long, and he covers her hand with his under the table.

“It’s probably for the best. Do you need me to carry you?”

“No, I’m okay,” she says, standing, and as everyone else gathers their stuff, she stoops under the guise of fixing her shoe, presses a hand to his shoulder for support, and speaks into his ear. “But keep in mind that need and want are two very different things.”

She smirks playfully, and he is so enraptured by her, moves his eyes from her lips to her bare shoulder, strap fallen to the side, wants to kiss her there and slip it back into place; he refrains from the kiss but does hook it with his finger and settle it against her skin, earning a heated look, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip.

He exhales, thinks to himself how silly it is that his heart is racing from just a few looks, a quick comment, the brush of his hand over her shoulder, but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

Heading back to the house is certainly more eventful than the previous night, as Morgan and Garcia giggle about something as she stumbles in her high heels, as JJ and Prentiss take Reid’s arms and link them with theirs for stability. Sophie walks steady, but slow, and Hotch hangs back with her, presses his hand against her lower back when no one is looking.

“I feel like I’m going to wake up in the morning and this will all have been a dream,” she whispers, glancing up at him; he smooths his palm up and down her back, eyes soft as he gazes down at her.

“It does feel like a dream, but nothing changes tomorrow, I promise.” He smiles softly, touches her face before pulling away altogether. “Except you might have a hangover.”

“No, I have foolproof methods. Lots of water before bed and a cup of ginger tea in the morning. I’ll share my methods with you, because I think you’re so cute,” she says with a smile.

“Lucky for me.”

He wants so badly to kiss her goodnight, but of course, they don’t get a chance, someone always hovering by the time they’re ready for bed. He does text her, though, after they go their separate ways.

AH: I’m really glad things happened the way they did tonight. Who knows how long we would have gone on staring silently at each other.

SC: Yeah, we’re pretty dumb for human behavior experts, aren’t we?

SC: I’m going to try to sneak you away tomorrow.

AH: I’ll be waiting. Goodnight.

SC: Goodnight. Sunday Sophie wakes up Sunday at 8:13 feeling like she could walk on air, she’s so happy. She kissed Hotch, Hotch kissed her, there was flirting and touching and it was all intentional and meaningful and magical… She gets a little carried away when she showers, reliving every moment, never so happy she agreed to come on this vacation despite her initial protests that it was too spontaneous.

She knows she needs to liven up a little, do more spontaneous things like go to the beach and kiss her boss and see Europe, go skydiving.

Maybe not the skydiving, but the beach and the boss she can definitely handle. Europe will probably have to wait.

She throws on a swimsuit with a cropped tank top and denim shorts over it and makes for the kitchen to get a cup of tea, smiles when she sees Emily and Garcia there. “Hi ladies. How did you sleep?”

“Like the dead, and now I feel dead,” Garcia grumbles. Emily nods over her cup of coffee.

“I feel like a truck ran over me, backed up, and ran over me again.” Sophie laughs, walks over to the table and sets down her box of tea.

“Have a cup. Cures any ailment, hangovers included, I promise.” Emily glances up, looking suspicious.

“Why are you so chipper? Why aren’t you dead like we are?” She tries not to grin, to be too obvious, but she hasn't been this excited about something in a long time, so it’s hard.

“Mind over matter. Gotta train those brains.” She adds a bit of honey to her tea, stirs it slowly. “It’s a gorgeous day, we have until late afternoon before we need to head back home, we’re having fun. I’m happy.”

“That’s all great stuff, but I can’t focus on it until my eyeballs stop punishing me,” Garcia groans, grabbing the box of tea and heading for the kettle. “Did you meet somebody or something? This is just extreme happiness, even from you. And it’s me who’s saying that.”

“She was with us all night. Well, she wasn’t, but she was with Hotch, so she may as well have been. She didn’t meet anyone.” Oh sweet, brilliant, clueless Emily, Sophie thinks, sitting across from her. She loves when her friends’ brains aren’t firing on all cylinders so she can feel like she has some secrets from them, instead of feeling so exposed all the time.

“Are we making breakfast or going for breakfast? Breakfast will help you guys feel better.”

“Going for breakfast,” Morgan says when he strides into the kitchen behind her. “No yoga this morning? I guess you’re human after all,” he says with a wink, and she just sips her tea because even his teasing isn’t enough to dampen her good mood.

“Takes one to know one. We both have lazy days, we both have feelings—I think we’re getting soft.”

“I’m not,” he says with a grin, lifting his shirt a little just to make Garcia swoon, she’s pretty sure—and it works. “Doesn’t look like you are either, in your little crop top. Trying to impress someone?”

“No, just letting my tummy out, as we all should on vacation. It’s more fun that way.” She drains the rest of her tea and rinses the cup in the sink. “Anyone need a nudge? I’m starving.”

“Haven’t seen JJ or Hotch yet, if you want to check on them,” Emily tells her, and she does grin at that.

“You got it! Hotch and JJ,” she repeats to herself, and she skips JJ’s room to rap on Hotch’s door. He opens it after a moment, looking hotter than should be allowed in a dark blue polo; his eyes roam slowly over her body, which makes her shiver. “Why, good morning, handsome,” she says, low, and he pulls her into his room, shuts the door, and kisses her deeply.

She moans softly in surprise, then weaves her fingers into his hair, stepping backward so she is pressed between the door and his body, which is the stuff of fantasies. His hands feel hot on her waist, his mouth harder than last night, more insistent; she pants for breath when the kiss breaks, runs her hands over his shoulders, pulls him close. “So glad I offered to check on you,” she murmurs, and he smiles softly, presses his mouth to hers again.

“So am I. You look…” He looks her over again, breasts, stomach, legs, back up to her face, wets his lips. “Beautiful doesn’t cover it.”

“Well I’ll take it anyway.” She brings his mouth down to hers for another soft kiss. “I have to check on JJ, but reserve your approval and hopefully we can get a little alone time today.”

“Just one more kiss,” he bargains, smoothing his palm over her throat, and she practically salivates at his touch, would give him anything he asked for. This time it’s a kiss, which is easy enough, and she stretches up on her toes, takes his face in her hands and plants one on him with a soft smack. They both smile. “See you soon.”

“See you soon.” Peeking out into the empty hall, she slips out the door, no one any the wiser, and heads to JJ’s room, pounding on the door with none of the regard she had for Hotch. “Are you up? We’re hungry, come on!” It takes a minute, but JJ pops her head out, hair a mess, eyes tired.

“Make me a coffee. I’ll be out in five minutes.”

“Sure, okay, five minutes though. Hey, do you want my ginger tea? Proven hangover cure, the other girls had some.” She narrows her eyes.

“Tea for now, coffee for the road. Please.” She slams the door, and Sophie laughs to herself, heads to the kitchen, and gets to work. Breakfast is a fun occasion in that everyone leaves the restaurant at least five times happier than when they arrived. Hotch just shakes his head and laughs, glad that his days of drinking to get drunk are over. The team looks rough.

The beach is on the agenda again, and most everyone opts for sunbathing at first, because they’re too full and tired to do anything else. Sophie and Morgan, the two most lively of the bunch, plan to head straight for the water—it’s an activity in itself to watch her strip out of her clothes, baring a little strapless bikini underneath.

Sophie offers to help Morgan with his sunscreen, but Garcia makes a noise of complaint. “Uh uh, my turn,” she says, squeezing some into her palm and handing back the tube. Sophie sighs, looks at JJ like she’s going to ask for help, but Morgan nods in his direction.

“Have Hotch help,” he tells her, and she narrows her eyes at him, gets a raised eyebrow in return. He makes a note to ask what that’s all about, and she looks a little like a deer in the headlights, but she steps over to him because it would be more awkward if she didn't, now.

“You know who to blame for this,” she mutters as she kneels down next to him, hands back the tube of sunblock, and she lifts her hair so he has access to her neck. He has to hold himself back from pressing his lips there, settles for imagining what she’d sound like if he did.

“Or who to thank, depending on how you look at it,” he counters as he rubs the lotion on. He feels the tension in her shoulders slip away as he works it in, the white cream melting into her smooth, brown skin. It’s like her whole body softens at his touch, and he makes a mental note to rub her shoulders often, when he gets the chance, could stand to see her look a little less tense most days. “At least I get to be close to you.”

“You’re sweet,” she says, humming as his hands move down her back. “I’m happy to be close to you too, just don’t need my coworkers watching me get rubbed down by the guy I like.”

“I do like the sound of that.” He presses his fingers against her neck, behind her ears, and she practically purrs at his touch, head tipping to the side. He’d like to spend more time there, it’s clear she enjoys it, but he knows he can’t milk it for too long. He slides his hands away, wipes them on his towel. “All set. My hands are free when you need to reapply.” She turns to face him, looks soft and relaxed and gorgeous, and shoots him a tender smile.

“Thanks. I’m still working on a plan for us, so I’ll be back soon.” She stands, throws the sunscreen at Morgan, and they chase each other into the water.

“Hey, will someone come up to the house with me?” Sophie asks after a while, and pretty much everyone is half asleep—either napping, in a food coma, or something in between—so it’s easy for him to volunteer himself, for them to slip away together. When they’re far enough away from the team’s line of sight, he scoops her up and throws her over his shoulder, earning laughter so hard it leaves her breathless. They make it inside the house, and he sets her down, her cheeks red and smile bright. “I cannot believe you did that,” she says, grabbing his shirt in her hands, and she pulls him close for a kiss that they laugh through, her hands shifting to come up around his neck.

“You were going too slow, I was getting impatient,” he teases, and she kisses him deeper, less playful, more passionate. He wraps his arms around her body, pulls her close, and they fumble toward the living room, collapse into a heap on the couch. They laugh, straighten out so they’re sitting somewhat normally, though very close.

“You’re so good at that, I think I dreamed about it.” She brushes gentle fingers through his hair, puts her legs in his lap just like he thought of doing at the bar, and kisses him softly a couple of times. “This isn’t just because we’re on vacation, right? I mean, tomorrow, when we wake up in our own beds, we’re not just going to pretend none of this happened?” He takes her hand, brings it to his lips, holds it.

“I couldn’t look at you and pretend none of this happened. Never.” He kisses her hand again, and she shifts so that she’s sitting up on her knees, so they can be closer, kiss better, he has to assume. One hand rests against his chest and the other loops around his neck, and they kiss long, hot, deep, so he has to pull back for breath. “Sophie,” he sighs when they separate, his hand gentle on her face. “I want you to know, I’ve never done this, or even thought about doing this with anyone from work. Not before you.”

“Neither have I. It’s just… you.” She leans in for a softer, sweeter kiss. “What do we do now? I guess, just to clarify: you want to date me, right? You don’t just want sex—I want to be sure we’re on the same page.” He puts his hands on her waist, like he’s holding her steady, looks into her eyes.

“I don’t just want sex. I want to spend time with you outside of the office. I want to take you on dates. I want to learn everything there is to know about you. I want to kiss you…” His eyes drift to her lips, and she leans up, presses them softly to his a couple of times.

“So we’ll need to tell Strauss? Gideon? The team?"

“I’ll tell Strauss, and she’ll change your reporting structure so that you report to Gideon, formally. It won’t change anything in the field, but he will have to be in charge of your performance reviews, psych evals, and future promotions so there’s no conflict of interest.”

“That’s good. I don’t want anyone to think I’ll be treated any differently.” He takes her face in his hands, kisses her slow, and she pulls back periodically to speak. “Not that... I think the team would, but... that’s good.” His lips move down the column of her throat, and she tilts her head, inviting more; her voice gets light and breathy. “Mmm, Hotch.”

He pulls back a little, sure he’s wearing a grimace; something about that, as good as it sounds, just does not rub him the right way.

“I think it might be better if you call me Aaron when we’re not working. It might help, you know, to have a little separation?” She nods, bites at her lip, and leans in for another kiss.

“Yes, that sounds good. I want to call you by your first name, but no one ever does, so I was waiting on you to tell me it was okay.” She brushes the pads of her fingers over his lips, his chin. “Kiss me, Aaron.”

He grins at that, puts his arm behind her and tips them both over so she’s laying under him, soft, sun-kissed, beautiful. She smiles, and he leans in, kisses her throat some more. “You smell so good, always like the beach, but especially now.” He’s pretty much destined to have a Pavlovian response to the smell of coconut and sunscreen, he thinks, but he doesn’t mind at all.

“If only you would take off your shirt and come swimming with us,” she teases, holding tightly to his shoulders, “I could make you smell all beachy too.” She catches his mouth in a kiss, grins against his lips. “Plus it would be nice to ogle you like you’ve been ogling me.” He scoffs, pulling a face.

“I haven’t been ogling you, I’ve been admiring you. There’s a difference.”

“Well in that case, let me admire you,” she coos in his ear, tongue curling over the lobe, and he kisses her deeply.

They are completely lost in each other when someone clears their throat above them, and they freeze; Sophie covers her eyes like it’s not happening if she doesn’t look, but Hotch is resigned to his fate, glances up and sees Gideon not looking very surprised. He doesn’t seem to have an opinion at all, actually, or at least his face doesn’t.

He sits up, pulling her with him, but she still can't look Gideon in the eye. Gideon, for what it’s worth, just nods. “I guess we’ll be going over some things in my office tomorrow,” he says, neutral, and Hotch nods.

“Yes. I’ll—I’ll get with Strauss in the morning.”

“Okay,” is all he says, and he heads down the hall to his room. Sophie groans.

“Okay, so we’ve determined we can’t be sneaky to save our lives.” She looks thoroughly embarrassed, but he just chuckles and pulls her closer, wraps his arms around her in an embrace.

“No, I guess we can’t. You’re too distracting.” She turns back to look at him, nose scrunched adorably.

“I’m too distracting? Compared to you, all on top of me, touching me with those hands?”

“They’re the only hands I’ve got,” he jokes, and she smiles indulgently, like she thinks he’s an idiot but likes him anyway. “We should probably head back anyway. I think we pressed our luck enough for today.” She grins at that, and he feels instantly like he should regret something he said. “What?”

“I’ll go quietly if you come swimming.” She adopts that puppy dog look he’s helpless against, presses her lips to his. “Please. It will be fun.” He sighs like he’s put out, but can’t resist smiling when she breaks into a grin of her own. “Yes! Okay, take off your shirt.”

“Now?” he asks with a laugh. “If we come back from the house and I’m half naked, eyebrows will be raised.”

“Just for a minute,” she explains, tugging at his collar. “I need to admire you before we’re out there so I don’t drool in front of them and embarrass myself.”

“You’re dangerous, you know that,” he says, pulling his polo over his head. “Those eyes could make a man do anything.”

“Well unfortunately for you, you’re the only man I plan to use them on.” She’s smiling, but her expression quickly fades to something more serious, and she flicks her eyes to his, then down his body, back up.

She opens her mouth to speak, decides against it, and leaps at him; he barely gets his arms up in time to catch her, and they almost go crashing back onto the sofa.

“God, you look so good,” she mumbles against his lips, hands in his hair. “I knew you’d be hot under all those suits, and then we got here and you’ve dressed more casually and it’s been just… the best.” She pulls back, runs her hands over all the bare skin she can reach, smiles broadly. “Can’t believe I get to touch you like this.” Slowly, he sweeps his palms over her body, brings her to him for a kiss.

“The feeling is so very mutual.” After another couple of kisses, she jumps out of his arms, hands back his shirt, though it’s clear she doesn’t want to.

“Glad we got that out of the way; I don’t know how the group would have reacted to me tackling you on the beach.”

“With incredulity, I’m sure. I don’t think I exactly fit what people would perceive to be your type.” She rolls her eyes, and they head out the door.

“What people perceive to be my type has nothing to do with me, or you.” She loops her hand loosely around his arm as they walk down to the beach. “And I don’t have a type, so we’re good.” As they get closer to the team, they move farther apart, and he already misses the feel of her skin.

“There you guys are,” JJ says when they approach, holding her hand over her eyes to shield from the sun. “Gideon went back to the house for a while, I’m sure you saw him.”

“We sure did see him,” Sophie says, dropping down onto her towel. “Are you guys alive yet? We’re gonna go swimming.” She scans the group, which is missing a few members. “Where are Morgan and Garcia?”

“Taking a walk,” Prentiss says with a suggestive tone. Hotch sighs, knows that soon enough the suggestive tone will be used at their expense. He wonders if Sophie thought that through, how invasive their friends can actually be. “They’ll be back by lunch, and then I guess it’s back to boring Quantico.”

“And that’s exactly why we’re swimming. Come on.” She stands up, walks backward toward the water with a smile. “Come on, Hotch, you promised.” Reid looks over at him with a curious expression, but he just shrugs and pulls off his shirt.

“I did promise.”

He’s not mad he did, either, because for a while it’s just the two of them, floating companionably in the luxuriously warm water, chatting about nothing, and she’s incredibly gorgeous with wet hair and a smile.

JJ and Prentiss join them eventually, and then there’s splashing, which is less enjoyable, but it’s clear Sophie is happy he agreed to swim, so he can’t find it in himself to be too irritated. They gather back at the house for a quick lunch, and they pack their stuff, load up the cars—this time they are split guys and girls, at JJ’s request.

“Thanks, Gideon, for the house, and Garcia, for the plan,” Prentiss says before they leave. “This was a great idea. Much needed.”

“Best weekend ever,” Sophie agrees, and she smiles softly when he catches her eye.

“That was awesome,” JJ says when they’re on the road. She looks back at Garcia with a grin. “So tell us, did you hook up with Morgan? Is Morcia a thing now?”

“I didn’t hook up with him, but…” She grins, and Sophie finds it infectious. “We talked, and I think we’re going on a date this week, barring any traveling you guys might have to do.”

“Yay for a date,” Sophie says, pulling her into a one armed hug. The women in the front shout their happiness a bit louder. “I’m glad, seriously. You guys are too cute not to be together if you want to be.”

“Thanks, I’m just worried about the whole ‘working together’ thing.” She looks over with a frown. “What if it’s awkward? What if I say something weird?”

“You already answer his phone calls with ‘talk dirty to me’—work phone calls. I don’t think you have to worry about it being awkward,” Prentiss says, looking into the back seat. “You two have chemistry, and he’s head over heels for you.”

“And hot,” JJ says from the driver's seat. “You don’t let a guy that hot go because of a little awkward. You hold on for dear life.” They all laugh, and even Garcia seems happier after the short conversation. She segues into another topic, which makes Sophie feel a little awkward.

“Speaking of hot: Hotch took off his shirt, and I liked what I saw,” Garcia says with a playful grin.

“I know, right?” Prentiss says, glancing back again. “Who knew he’d be so buff under his sad fed suits.” I knew, I knew! Sophie thinks, but she knows she can’t say it without spilling the beans about everything that happened over the weekend, so she just hums in agreement.

“We can thank Sophie for getting him out of his shell this weekend,” JJ adds, looks back at her through the rear view mirror. “First she got him dancing, then swimming… I sense that Reid has competition for BFF.”

“Yep, me and Hotch, best buds,” she says, leaning against the window. Garcia seems to find something in her tone, if the look on her face is any consideration, but says nothing. “I’m sad Reid didn’t play on the beach though. He actually is my best bud, but he’s a tough nut to crack.”

The conversation gets lighter from there, a little more talk about Morgan and Garcia, how good breakfast was, how they’re never drinking again. When Sophie gets a text message, she’s a little too excited to answer it, almost throws her phone across the car when she fumbles it.

AH: Can I call you tonight? I realized we didn’t talk about everything you had questions about. I got distracted.

SC: No worries. I got distracted too.

SC: I’ll let you know when I’m home.

She is just unpacking her suitcase and contemplating what to have for dinner when her phone rings, and she grins. He didn’t even wait for her text, which is cute, and she tries to simmer down so she doesn’t sound like a complete weirdo when she answers.

She picks up her phone, and it’s not Aaron’s name she sees, but JJ’s.

“You don’t know how sorry I am to tell you this, but we have a case.” She sighs down the line. “Los Angeles. It’s bad, or I’d say it can wait until morning.”

“Don’t be sorry, it’s your job. And we knew the vacation couldn’t last forever.” She drops her suitcase on the floor and replaces it with her go bag, stuffs it full of durable clothes. “I’ll see you in half an hour, JJ, thanks.”

“See you then.”

Sophie locks her phone and tosses it on the bed, does her best to get into a BAU state of mind.

#aaron hotchner x original female character #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfic

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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

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🔥Wings of Freedom (Part 2)🔥

A/N: Finally got part 2 done! Thank you for your patience with this mini series, I’ve been so busy with school lately and I still have so many drafts that I’ve been trying to publish them evenly so I don’t keep you guys waiting for anything too long. Thank you so much for your support, I love all of you so much and I can’t wait to show you the other stuff I have planned for this blog. I have a few requests on the way, so stay tuned for that, but for now, here is the sequel to Wings of Freedom (finally)!

Part 1 is here if you haven’t read it yet!

🐉Song Recommendation: “Machine” By: MisterWives 🐉

Word Count: ~3.9k

~~~

Levi felt like he was experiencing deja vu as he glanced around the courtroom from where he stood beside Erwin, waiting for Hanji to come back. Only, he felt a lot more nervous. The first time, he had felt nothing but an impatience to get the event started, his eyes hard and cold as he had looked down at an immature, green-eyed brat who could turn into a titan, waiting for his future to be decided as either a useful tool for humanity, or a human experiment to be tortured in a lab. Now, his insides were doing their best impression of a pretzel, churning and twisting until he felt sick with worry. This wasn’t going to be a meeting about some random brat from the streets, this was concerning the fate of the love of his life.

The night she had come back had been bittersweet for both of them. They had spent the night wrapped up together, (Y/N)’s wings out for the first time around Levi, the warm membranes curled around him protectively so he could feel her heartbeat thrumming through his entire body. They had been cuddled close, holding each other like it was the last time they would be able to do so, unsure of what events would unfold the next morning. Both Levi and (Y/N) knew everything was about to change, knew (Y/N)’s fate would be challenged and decided the next day, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from rolling around in his gut, making his stomach give another violent lurch.

“Hey,” Erwin said lowly, placing a hand on Levi’s shoulder when he noticed his friend’s queasy expression, “She’s going to be alright. We will fight for her with everything we’ve got.”

Levi managed a stiff nod in Erwin’s direction, his heart warming at his friend’s support. Although Levi had never doubted his friends, he had been surprised by how supportive and accommodating they had been when Levi had announced (Y/N)’s initial reappearance. They had both expressed their immense relief at her safe return while Hanji worked to heal her bullet wound, keeping her enthusiastic questioning to a minimum at Levi’s insistence.

Levi’s thoughts were cut short by the appearance of said energetic scientist, the tall brunette carefully picking her way through the rows of gathered officers and moving to stand on the other side of Erwin.

“She’s doing okay,” Hanji said before Levi could even open his mouth. “She’s a little nervous but that’s normal. Everything else is going smoothly so far, so she will be brought out in a few minutes.”

Levi nodded, not trusting himself to speak. He was trying his hardest to stay calm, to keep from lunging at Premier Zackley and strangling him until he promised to let (Y/N) go, but it was starting to strain on him. His skin broke out in a sweat as he forced himself to take deep breaths. He could do this. For (Y/N), he could do this.

He immediately looked up at the sound of the large wooden doors opening with a loud creak, his attention settling on the (h/c) haired woman handcuffed between two guards, her head down so her hair curtained her expression from others. His eyes narrowed and a low growl slipped from between his lips at the sight of the bruises on her arms and legs from the chains and cuffs she had been wearing in her cell. His blood was roaring in his ears as he fought every instinct he had to swoop down and bring her back into his arms. He had almost lost her once, he wouldn’t lose her again, no matter the cost.

Her wings were hidden, the huge black membranes tucked safely in the slits of her back, away from the prying eyes of the assembled soldiers. That at least gave Levi some relief, the knowledge that the extra sensitive appendages were kept from harm or unwanted touch.

The dull chatter in the courtroom hushed as (Y/N) was brought to the center of the room, pushed into a kneeling position on the same platform Eren had been placed on just a few years prior. One of the guards holding her leaned down and clapped her manacles to the sturdy metal post behind her, double checking that she was secure before backing away, moving with the other guard to stand on either side of Premier Zackley, guns at the ready.

The room was so quiet you could’ve heard a pin drop. The people in the room barely breathed as they waited impatiently for Zackley to finish preparing his notes, eager to see if they rumors were true. The Premier cleared his throat, shuffling the papers in front of him as he peered down at the woman on the platform from over the top of his glasses.

“(Y/N) (L/N)?”

(Y/N) looked up when her name was called, her eyes hard as she stared up at the older man.

“Yes.”

“Member of the Survey Corps. Age (#). Cadet under the command of Squad Leader Hanji Zoe,” Zackley read off, glancing at her after every sentence for her quick nod of confirmation. “It looks like you have no criminal record, but your place and date of birth are unknown, so that technically can not be confirmed nor denied outside of the information gathered during your time as a soldier.”

(Y/N) swallowed hard but did not respond, waiting, just as Hanji had told her to do, for the Premier to make his point. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to be patient, knowing that if she rushed this, if she wasn’t careful, she could easily be thrown to the wolves.

“It looks like, based on these reports, that you are a loyal soldier who has a clean background, a solid record, and a hard working personality, since it is labeled here that you are about to be promoted to Squad Leader,” the Premier leaned forward, “that means, we are here for a different reason entirely. Tell me, do you know why you are here?”

“Yes,” (Y/N) answered clearly.

“Very good. Now, without further ado, this court is now in session.”

As soon as Zackley opened the floor, a man from the Military Police stood, a smug grin on his face as he glanced at the annoyed scowls of the Survey Corps officers who were watching him.

“Premier Zackley, thank you for that wonderful introduction,” the man started off, making Levi roll his eyes so hard they hurt. “I would like to start off on behalf of the Military Police and say that this woman should be placed in our custody.”

The Survey Corps officers exchanged glances at that. They had been expecting the man to rant on and on about how she should be tortured, experimented on, or killed, not taken in by another branch of the military. The one closest to the King, no less.

“Interesting, state your case,” Zackley said, folding his hands in front of his face.

“We believe she could be of great use with us, sir. She could be a viable source of protection for our current ruling monarch, and we could use her to increase funding for our resources and supplies. Nobles would come from miles around to see her, it’s something we can use to better the lives of all of the soldiers in the military! Instead of groveling for money at their feet, we could charge them to come see her, within the safety of the walls, perfectly ready to display for anyone who is willing to pay.”

(Y/N) had to fight to keep from grimacing in disgust at the thought of being constantly gawked at like some kind of freak, put out for people to see as if she were some sort of entertainment for them, rather than a human being trying to fight for humanity.

“What use is earning money from her like some kind of exotic beast if our soldiers keep dying?” Erwin cut in, making (Y/N)’s eyes soften at the sound of her friend’s hard voice trying to make others see reason. “She is needed in the Survey Corps with us, it’s what she was made for. She can continue to fight against the titans with us, allowing us to give her the proper protection as she uses her gifts to make fighting these man-eating monsters a hell of a lot easier. She would waste away if she was stuck within the walls with the Military Police.”

“Well, as I see it, Commander Erwin, she can’t be trusted outside of the walls with you. She hid this for how long? How many years now has she let her comrades die over and over again, never stepping in to save them? According to her reports, she didn’t try to assist any of you during your missions other than with the normal efforts displayed by every soldier, at least, until she apparently saved Captain Levi. And rumor has it, those two are sexually involved with one another, which would make for that incident to be purely based on bias rather than a change of heart. If she really was meant to be a helpful tool for humanity, she would’ve become that by now.”

Erwin shook his head, his hand reaching out slightly to touch Levi’s forearm when the shorter raven-haired man opened his mouth to retort. “She has already explained to us her reasoning behind that. If she had shown herself on base, she would’ve risked getting hunted or killed, or getting those around her injured if someone decided to use her friends and comrades as blackmail for her capture. If she had shown herself on the field, she would’ve risked sending her comrades into shock, making it difficult, if not impossible, for them to concentrate on the mission, running the risk of twice the number of soldiers dying. She has tried to find the right time to reveal her gift to us, but it’s been nearly impossible for her, something that was proven by the men of the Garrison out on the field when she finally did reveal herself, only to get shot and chased.”

“So you are saying that she was justified in letting the hundreds of lives she could’ve saved die? Because she couldn’t find the right timing?” The Military Police pig said incredulously, his every word like a punch to (Y/N)’s gut. “I was unaware the soldiers of the Survey Corps were so selfish, cared so little about their men in battle. If this doesn’t further bolster my claims, I don’t know what would.”

“That’s not what I said,” Erwin said, his voice cold. “I said-”

“And you brought up the men from the Garrison,” the MP cut off Erwin, smiling wider at the glares thrown his way. “I have actually brought them today as witnesses. They would like to say a few words, if that is alright?”

The Premier thought for moment before giving a slow nod.

As soon as the all clear was given, the MP motioned for two of the Garrison soldiers who had fought beside the Survey Corps that day to come forward. (Y/N) growled low in her throat at the sight of the men, especially the bigger of the two, the one that had shot her. She noticed Levi tense out of the corner of her eye, knowing he remembered just as well. She threw him a quick reassuring glance just as Hanji placed a hand on his shoulder, imploring him not to react. Levi managed to calm himself, crossing his arms over his chest, but she could tell it was taking every ounce of effort from him not to kill the man.

“Names?” The Premier asked.

“Louis Bordgenson.”

“Graham Pickett.”

“Bordgenson, Pickett, could you please explain why you are here? Why do you believe (Y/N) (L/N) should be placed under Military Police custody?”

“We were two of the few to witness what happened when (L/N) saved Captain Levi from the titans, sir,” Graham said. “We are here to support the Military Police in their decision of taking (L/N) into their custody because we believe that what we saw on the field is a perfect example of the Survey Corps’ shortcomings as a branch. They need to be improved, restored with proper management and leadership. And it all starts with weeding out the soldiers that need to be corrected, allowing them to reevaluate their life choices in a place that won’t get others killed. Out on that field, we were attacked by all of the Survey Corps officers when I shot at (L/N) for my own defense, without even pausing for a moment to consider the situation. That woman attacked me, nearly knocked me right into a titan’s mouth with her wings, and flew off, leaving her comrades for dead, even as they still fought for her in the end.”

Louis nodded along with what Graham was saying before opening his mouth to add on. “Exactly. And when we got back from beyond the walls, we were arrested for attacking a Survey Corps officer. We were called lunatics, psychotics, for claiming to have seen a winged woman, and yet, here she is. We were right all along and none of the Survey Corps officers stepped forward to say it was wrong. To top it all off, when she came back, they sheltered her! Hid her with them and tried to pass everything off as normal.”

“From what I saw, (Y/N) (L/N) did not attack either of you,” Erwin said, cutting the two younger men off from continuing with their ranting diatribe. His tone was sharpened ice and his voice was filled with venom, waiting to strike like a snake in the shadows with barely suppressed fury. (Y/N) felt a conflicting wave of pride, gratitude, and apprehension wash through her. She loved Erwin, he was a close friend of hers, but that sometimes made her forget how god damn scary he could be when upset.

“You boys seem to have forgotten that you two were not the only ones on the field that day. From what everyone else saw, (Y/N) performed a great service to save a comrade, exposing herself in the most vulnerable way possible to try to help us escape. To help you, escape. She never singled you out, never tried to approach you in any manner other than one of friendly disposition. She did knock you over with the power of her wings as you mentioned, but she only did that because you were standing too close to her in your attempt to capture her for yourself. She was just trying to fly away peacefully, and would not have left us on that battlefield if you had not ordered your men to charge and fire. Your imprisonment was valid, and your accusations are dramatized and inaccurate.”

(Y/N) closed her eyes as Erwin’s last word rang out. Her stomach was churning and she felt lightheaded, her heart conflicted with so many differing emotions at once. She was grateful for Erwin and the Survey Corps, her friends who were fighting for her, fighting for her future, but she couldn’t help but feel as if she didn’t deserve them and their efforts. While she hated to admit it, the men from the Garrison weren’t wrong. She had spent years hiding her wings away, failing to save her comrades because of her fear, watching as they were devoured when the faster speed of her wings possibly could’ve saved them. Her head drooped a little as the men in front of her fought. Could she even call herself a soldier? A scout? Did she deserve to fight alongside them? Did she deserve… Levi?

She sucked in a shuddering breath, willing the tears to stay back. Maybe she did deserve to be nothing more than an animal to be viewed in a cage. Something to be gawked at and displayed like some kind of trophy. Could she even be considered human? She was so abnormal, so fucked up, mentally and physically. How could she possibly be considered safe enough to be around those she cared about?

Just as she was about to succumb to the notion of her worthlessness, a sharp, deep voice made her eyes snap open and glance to her left where her lover was standing steadfast beside his commander, his silver eyes burning like molten iron.

“Now listen here, all of the claims you have made so far have been either disproven or provided with solutions. (Y/N) has been nothing but the most amazing soldier, dutifully working to take care of everyone around her and constantly fighting for a better world. Just because you fuckwads can’t get your heads out of your asses long enough to see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true. (Y/N) was faced with an incredibly tough decision in her life, and she’s been forced to deal with it ever since she was born. She is just human. Simply, wonderfully, human, and there is nothing wrong with the choices she made,” Levi said, making (Y/N)’s eyes water with the love she felt for the raven-haired man.

“I know she will continue to be a necessary asset for the Survey Corps, where she can keep doing what she knows how to do best. If we lock her up in some manor to be cooed at by nobles, we will be lost. For god’s sake we have to deal with Jaeger every day and she’s significantly less of a threat than he is, but has twice the amount of usefulness to us.”

“Oh, as if that little experiment is going so well,” the MP said with a sneer. “The Survey Corps got custody of that one and look what’s happened? Cities destroyed, people lost. Captain Levi, your own squad got brutally murdered by an abnormal on an expedition because that titan shifter was too useless to do anything to help you. If we let you take custody of this one as well, we fear that the odds of humanity winning this war will shift further downwards. The fate of every human within these walls is in the hands of the Survey Corps soldiers. The last thing your branch needs is another distraction, or in better terms, a mistake.”

(Y/N) winced at the insult, her body flooding with icy fear as murmurs of agreement floated through the crowd. She knew she should’ve expected this possibility, had even reminded herself of the fact when Erwin left to tell the Premier about her existence earlier that week. She had known from the moment she had agreed to reveal herself publicly and use her gifts in battle to fight the titans and save her friends that this could happen. She could be turned against, experimented on, taken back to a cage and locked up, just as she had spent most of her early life. But even knowing about it didn’t stop the anger, the fear from filling her from head to toe, making her shift nervously on the wooden platform. She wanted to speak, wanted to say something to counteract what the Military Police were claiming, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing it was for the best. If she started talking now, fueled by her emotions, after spending the entire time staying quiet, it would look as if she was becoming desperate, trying to hide something. And with how hard Levi and Erwin were fighting for her, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin everything by opening her stupid mouth.

Levi and Erwin were about to retort when the Premier held up his hand, his eyes closed as he waited for the room to settle down again. The room quickly hushed. (Y/N) waited, her entire body tense as she stared up at the Premier, her heart thumping so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it.

Everything will be fine.

“Based on the claims made by both parties, I have come to a decision on where the defendant shall be placed until further notice,” Zackley said.

I won’t let them take you away from me.

“While both parties have put forth compelling arguments, I can not determine whether or not bias or deceit is at play here on either side. It is because of this that I have decided to put you in the place that I believe would be the safest for humanity should things take a turn for the worst.”

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

“(Y/N) (L/N), I am officially placing you under the custody of the Military Police, where you will be kept and cared for until I can find the proper evidence to prove your innocence.”

I love you.

(Y/N) felt her world shift. She heard Levi’s roar of fury, Erwin’s sharp voice ringing out into the hall as he tried to reason with the Premier, Hanji’s screech of shock and anger, but no words registered. The Military Police. Anything but the Military Police. She wanted to struggle against her binds, wanted to roar and scream and snap, wanted to stretch her wings and fly away, far away, just her and Levi together. But she couldn’t do that. She hung her head, unable to hold back the tidal wave of tears this time as they slid down her cheeks in clear rivers, running down her soft skin to splatter on the floor beneath her.

She could practically hear the smirk in the MP’s voice as he thanked the Premier and barked orders at his assembled soldiers to grab her. She wanted nothing more than to slap that smug grin off his face but she knew she couldn’t. She forced herself to take deep breaths as she felt hands rain down on her, touching her, dragging her, chaining her.

When she was finally unhooked from the steel post in the center of the room, the Military Police soldiers holding her tightly between them, dragging her towards the door, (Y/N) managed to look up. She caught Levi’s eye from where he was being held back by both Erwin and Hanji, the sorrow and desperation in those stunning gunmetal hues making her heart shatter. She didn’t know when she’d see him again, if she ever would see him again. And even if she was granted the opportunity to see him, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold him, kiss him, love him like she always did.

Even though her heart was being ripped to shreds, (Y/N) managed a watery smile in his direction, her lips moving to mouth the words, “I will see you again, I promise,” to him. She saw him stand a little straighter, a glint in his eye as he took her words to heart. She just knew that he was going to do everything in his power to make that happen.

No matter what, we are in this together, wings and all.

(Y/N) kept her eyes on him as she was led back through the large wooden doors of the courtroom, refusing to look away from her lover until the doors had completely shut behind her, officially separating her from the love of her life.

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