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komitomi · 10 months

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“Who is she?” — zhongli x f!afab!reader

;; if you feel yourself wanting to community label this, please kindly just block me instead, stupid how people ignore the warnings right in front of them.

NSFW CONTENT, MDNI: afab!reader, reader is a girl and identifies as one but cross dresses due to a plot point, p in v sex, porn with plot, missionary, oral (f), cunnilingus, slight tiddy play, consensual sex, zhongli questioning his sexuality slightly, gender talks, mentions of murder, cumming inside. + not proof read

based on this request (I had to change a few things up to fit the flow of plot)

By clicking read more, you are consenting to view this explicit content, you are responsible for your own experience.

“Hey zhongli!” you greet him and sit on the cloth laid on the ground next to him as he sips on his tea, he places the cup down and looks at you, “Hello, y/n.” he greets back, “Want some tea? I've just brewed it, it seems our friends liked it as well.” he offers and you nod.

You and zhongli met a few months ago and became close friends ever since then, you guys were currently on a picnic, just taking time off your duties and relaxing with your friends, you watched as he poured tea into the cup and lifted his hand to give it to you, you noticed how strands of his hair fell on his face when he leaned to pour tea.

You took the cup from his hand, fingers brushing against each other, these small interactions might not mean anything to him but to you- they gave you butterflies, you liked zhongli very much, he was all anyone could ask for, gentle, loving and caring and how he would be a good partner but as you thought about it more, a sour expression sat upon your face.

You were hiding a secret from everyone, a secret that you were a girl, using chest bindings to make your chest look flat, wearing masculine clothing, you posed as a man, and due to this you had to behave and act like one, against your will.

“What's wrong?” zhongli asks, breaking you out of your thoughts, you just smiled at him as you sipped on the tea “Oh nothing, my mind was wandering off.” you tell him, “I'm assuming it was unpleasant?” he questions and you nod.

You and zhongli talk a bit more until you hear the screams of one of your friends, xiang, you watch as the man comes running towards the camp, being chased by hilichurls and mitachurls, that idiot wandered off way too far again.

You, zhongli and others get up on your feet and draw your weapons, you launch yourself to the enemies, defeating one by one with your sword as zhongli does the same with his polearm, you felt something tear in the fight but you were too focused on survival, brushing it off as nothing, the enemies quickly fall to the ground before they turn into ashes right before your eyes.

“Phew! That was tough! But we did it” you yell in excitement and turn to face your friends, but they remain silent as they gaze at your torso, you wonder what they were staring at until you realise your top was ripped open, revealing your chest bindings and the flesh of your breast which looked like it was about to burst with the way the bindings were tightened around it.

You quickly cover yourself up and turn around, facing away from them, in shame and guilt, you could hear them whispering, the way their faces looked shocked when they realised, would they hate you now? what would your father do once he catches wind of this? what is zhongli gonna think? you were about to cry, tears welling up in your eyes until you felt something warm placed on your shoulders, you grabbed onto the coat and looked up at the person, it was zhongli who looked concerned for you.

He quickly shot a glare towards the men who were whispering, making them shut up, “you are a girl?” xiang asks and you look at him and nod, they all look at one another with shocked expressions, you could feel the heat of their stares, you felt guilty for lying but you had to.

“What's the big deal anyway? Y/n must have his- I mean her, reasons.” Zhongli questions, it felt so unfamiliar to have others refer to you with feminine pronouns yet so nice.

“Let's go back.” Zhongli simply says, leaving with you first as he leaves others to pack things up and trail behind, the entire walk was pure agony, the awkward silence was killing you, zhongli seemed so lost in his thought, zhongli told your friends something and they all nodded and parted ways, leaving you alone with him.

“You can't go home like that, come with me, let's get you dressed properly.” he said, you both went down a long path, which had less people around, he could simply take you into the city just as you were, but that would ruin your honour, and zhongli didn't want that, so he decided to take a time consuming path.

Although you were comforted that no one was around, it made things worse, there has barely been a conversation between you both, the air around you guys was suffocating, you were praying to the gods above to end this ordeal quickly and they seemed to have heard your prayers, you both reached zhongli's house, his attendants were confused at the sight but he commanded that you be taken up to his room and give you proper clothes.

The attendants quickly followed the orders and zhongli stayed behind, thinking about the events that followed, he was your close friend and felt betrayed that you would lie to him, but he later pushed away those feelings because he knew you wouldn't just do it for no reason.

In his room, you were given a bath, with scented oils and given feminine clothes, which apparently belonged to one of the attendants, they undid your chest bindings causing your breasts to fall out of their painful confines which made you let out a breath of relief as they were finally free.

As they readied you after your bath, you looked yourself in the mirror and it felt so surreal to you, you in all your glory, you finally felt like you.

You almost burst out crying if it weren't for the door opening to revealing zhongli, the attendants quickly bowed before leaving and zhongli looked at you for a while before sitting on the bed, and gestured you to do the same.

“So....” zhongli trailed off as you came and sat next to him, looking at him with a gentle expression, “You must be wondering.” you said and he nodded slowly. Taking a deep breath and collecting your thoughts, you revealed everything to him.

You watched his expression trying to process what you had just said.

“You're telling me— that your father wanted a son so desperately he forced you to dress like one?” he asks shakily and you nod, “and when your mother intervened, he took her life?” he clenches his fist and you nod slowly with a pained expression.

He didn't know what to say, he felt angry, angry at her father for forcing someone like her to do such things just because of his misogyny and obsession to carry on his legacy. He noticed how you deeply you were lost in thought.

“He won't be kind if he finds out.” you say, your voice shaking in fear and hands trembling in your lap, zhongli reaches out to them to calm them but stops himself, he usually did that before any of this happened, a small way of comforting others but now that you were a lady, he thought that it would be inappropriate to do so without your consent. This doesn't go unnoticed by you, “You can touch me, do not worry.” you say with a sad smile, aware of what was going on in his mind.

Although you were glad to be seen as your true self by him and him being kind about it to you, you missed when he wasn't aware and just let himself be free with you. He slowly takes your hand in his, before looking in your eyes, he doesn't know how to feel.

Things have changed now, he didn't know what, why did the warmth feeling in his chest grow when he found out that you were a lady? Zhongli wouldn't lie to himself, he had felt something during your friendship, an affection towards you, a longing for you, he liked you as a man, and he should be disappointed when it turned out you weren't, but he wasn't, in fact. He felt more affectionate towards you.

Maybe he felt guilty to feel that way towards a man, but now he realised that you were a woman, it made it better? Or maybe, he didn't care.

Maybe it was you, you who made him feel that way, your personality, not the fact that whether you were a man or not, no, it was all you. just you.

His didn't realise what he was doing until he felt you gasp, he was caressing your face, trailing his thumb on your bottom lip, he quickly retreated his hand back and cleared his throat, “I- I apologize—” before he can't finish his apology, you cut him off.

“It's okay, I want to be touched by you.” you didn't know why you had said that but that made zhongli eyes widen slightly before he took in a deep breath.

The chambers grew warm and your bodies felt hot, zhongli leaned towards you, the tension between both of you arising rapidly, he looks at you before looking down at your lips and then, it happens.

He presses his lips against you gently, giving you a feather light kiss before he pulls back, tilting his head and kissing you once again, he repeats this a few times before kissing you passionately, his hand in your hair holding you against him as your lips moved in rhythm.

He pulls back and breathes in deeply, and pushes you down on the bed, and gets on top of you, he knees place on either side of your body, his hair framing you, “May I?” he asks and you nod your head, “Yes, you may.” you say and he smiles before leaning down to kiss you once again, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closers.

He pulls away and brings you further up the bed and undoes your clothing, revealing your bare body to him before he does the same, leaving him bare to the room as well, he trails kisses down your neck, to your breasts and to your stomach which sent you butterflies.

He spreads your cunt and groans at the sight, “Fuck you're already wet.” he said before indulging himself between your thighs, you've never felt this way before. You were aware of the desires of the flesh but to think you would be able to experience that was a shocker.

You let out small moans and grip zhonglis hair tightly as he laps at your cunt, coating his tongue with your wetness and kissing your bud, suckling on it from time to time, you looked at him and his expression made you even more wetter.

He looked so lost in the feeling, his eyes dazed as his main focus was to pleasure you, one would think that he was also pleasuring himself whilst he ate you, that's how content he looked.

A warmth spreads in your stomach and before you know it, it ignites something inside, causing you to arch your back and push zhonglis face tighter into your cunt as you are blinded by the sensation. He moans when he felts your juices coating his tongue, he pulls back and swallows thickly.

He comes upwards towards you and presses a gentle kiss on your cheek before he spreads your legs wider, you looked down at him and perhaps you wish you hadnt because what you saw was unexplainable.

He was hard, extremely hard, you saw how it twitched from time to time, you gulped, there's no way in hell that it would fit.

“Are you okay?” he asks and you nod, how can you tell if you were anxious because of the size, you didn't have to, he knew.

“I will be gentle okay?” he says before he likes himself against your entrance and slowly pushes inside, he had prepared you, yes, but he was too big to take, and you felt a burning sensation as he stretched you open, causing you to grip his shoulders tightly and clench your eyes shut.

He stopped for a bit, before pushing in a little, he repeated that process until you were fully able to take him, he let out a gasp when he entered fully inside, trying to control himself from ramming into you like a madman. Making sure you adjust to his size.

He says like that for a while, and you finally relax and open your eyes, you look at his face, he was already looking at you, he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek and caresses it.

“Y-you can move.” you say and he nods, he moves slowly at first, drawing back gently before pushing in gently too, he was obviously restraining himself, it was so painfully visible.

He continued like that for a while, the pain you were experiencing slowly turned into pleasure as he maintained a steady pace, you moaned, asking him to go faster and he obeyed.

He picked up his pace, only slightly faster as to not hurt you, causing your bodies to rock up and down the bed, he gripped one of your breasts and kissed it before taking in the other in his mouth and sucking.

He let go of you breast from his mouth, and his pace became even more faster, your expression indicated that you were no longer in pain, and now his gave in to his urges.

His pace was set to an extremely brutal one, he held your hip to keep you stable against him, and you moaned loudly into the chambers, crying out his name in pleasure as his rammed his hips into yours, you clawed against his back.

“Good girl, look at you taking in my cock so well.” he said, making you blush, you never expected to hear such words from zhongli, sure you had touched yourself imagining him but, you didn't think it would come true.

He moved up and shuffled to his feet and pulled your hips into his lap, thrusting in and out of you, the new angle made his cock touch some spot within you, which made you feel tingly, his constantly brushed over the spot, stimulating it.

And before you know, you felt the same blinding pleasure course through your body as you came undone beneath him, walls fluttering around his cock, making him moan loudly with the way you gripped him.

His thrusts became sloppier and soon enough, he was finishing as well, he finished deep inside you, and you didn't complain, you always knew there were brews and drinks to prevent pregnancy, so that was the least of your worries in your mind.

But with the ecstasy, came the realisation.

You soon gained senses and started to worry about what would happen tomorrow, your father ought to have found out by now, after all, rumours spread very quickly, zhongli felt you tense beneath him, he pulled out his softened cock and layed next to you, pulling you into a warm embrace.

Then he heard you sniffle, “shh.. it will be alright, I'll deal with it, you have my word” oh how much you loved him, he knew exactly what you were worried about.

And stand by his word is what exactly zhongli did, he dropped you off at your residence and your father, at first, played dumb, pulling an pitiful old man card who just wanted a son, but zhongli saw right through that bullshit and lectured him.

And for the first time, you saw fear in your fathers eyes, it gave you a sense of satisfaction, you felt no pity for this man, for he had taken everything from you.

“I am going to marry her.” those words that left his mouth shocked you and your father and you looked at him, it wasn't an a question, he wasn't asking, he was declaring, and soon enough you found out the original reason why he accompanied you, you watched as his servants bought out your things from inside your house.

He was taking you with him, your father cried and begged for you to stay, telling you how he had no one to take care of him, and you almost felt pity, almost.

That was until you remembered everything, you ignored his cries and pleas and went with zhongli.

For once you felt happy, like you had your life in your hand, and now you'd share your future with the man you wanted to be with the most.

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mitch-the-silly · 2 months

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Hewwo! Just read "Aggroo of a Bleeding Heart" and it just made me crave more of Yandere Vox! May we please get a story of him preventing the reader from escaping? She also somehow is immune to his hypnosis so he'll have to try harder >:)

OF COURSEEE!!! Omg, I just LOVE Yandere Vox. I need him expeditiously-

Anyway, here! Here's your Yandere Vox! :DDD

As mentioned in other posts, reader is gender-neutral due to no specification on gender being made.

Yandere!Vox x gn!Reader

Imagine!!

"Hypnophobia"

You banged on the doors of your glorified enclosure: a five-star suite in the V-Tower. The door wouldn’t budge so you punched it out of spite. “Show yourself, coward!” You cried, looking directly at one of Vox’s cameras. You knew he was looking at you, he always was. Frustrated upon hearing no reply, you sat down on the floor, hugging your knees. You wanted to leave, and despite none of this being your fault, you couldn’t help but feel like you earned this. You fell for his bait hook, line, and sinker. He pampered you with gifts, gave you this place to stay, and just when you decided he was getting too close for comfort, he trapped you.

You sighed, getting up, sitting down on your bed, looking at your phone. You wanted to call a friend, but you found their contact was erased from your phone. Only Vox, Val, Velvette and a few friends that Vox knew had no intentions of getting you out of your prison remained saved in your contacts. “Oh, fuck you, Vox!” You yelled, “Only ten contacts in my phone! I know you did this, you sick bastard.” Your protest was met by silence again. Oh, how that ticked you. The way he silently observed you. Yeah, he was always watching but he was never brave enough to talk back to you. But you had a brilliant idea to get him to say something.

“You know, maybe if I had someone to talk to, I wouldn’t be so upset over my contacts. Maybe I wanna leave because there’s no one here to keep me company.” You whined.

The camera before you stayed silent for a bit, but then crackled into a voice, “You’re needy, aren’t you? Can’t conform to being a pretty little doll? I left you in your room, is that not enough for you?!” Vox complained over the camera’s speaker.

“Humans need interaction. If you really wanted me, you’d try to build a bond with me!” You spat back.

“So I do have to go over there and put you in your place.” He huffed. The noise stopped as the speaker cut off. You immediately assumed he’d ignored you, but you were promptly proved wrong.

From the camera zapped out a figure of the likeness of Vox. Later materializing, revealing to, in fact, be the man himself. “You know, you’d be more enjoyable to observe if you could just be still and sexy.” He huffed jokingly. “But I have to admit I like your spite; it adds a layer to your sexyness~” He cooed, moving closer to you, caressing your chin as he activated his hypnotic eye. If he couldn’t get you to listen by asking nicely, then maybe he could get what he wanted.

You jerked your face away from him, “You won’t even put the effort into asking me out for dinner, or even asking me out at all and you already want me to be your pretty little princess in a tower.” You spat, backing up from him, and sitting on the other side of your bed.

Vox huffed, you were one of those… his power didn’t work on you. He just hated having to try harder to appease people. “Fine then. I’ll ask you to go out with me. And if you want a dinner date you have a wonderful balcony. I could just organize a candlelit dinner.” He thought out loud.

“You’re still not taking me out of this room?” You retorted in disbelief.

“Oh, I’m not stupid, babe~ You just wanna leave. I’m not letting that happen.~” He chuckled, sitting next to you, holding your waist. “But just how do I get rid of that nasty attitude of yours?~” He cooed, taking your hand and kissing it.

You rolled your eyes, “You had me once. But you fucked it up by locking me in here when some random guy talked to me.”

“You smiled at him.”

“Am I not allowed to smile anymore?!” You replied in disbelief.

“It wasn’t a regular friendly smile, I could see the way you looked at him.” Vox scoffed.

“Ok, and? We’re not in a relationship. If you want me to keep to myself then make it official. Others won’t flirt with me either.” You suggested, a bit annoyed.

“Make it official? Oh, please! Don’t make me laugh! You know I can’t go out in public and freely say I have a thing for you! You’re more like… a dirty little secret~.” He chuckled.

“And why is that?” You complained, scooting away from him.

“Because think of the scandal! And while it would bring in a lot of money… I’m not gonna ridicule myself! My image and the image of the Vees has to be pristine, you know this, sweetheart~.” He explained, kissing your cheek afterwards.

You rolled your eyes, “What now then? You’re just gonna leave me here?”

“If you want someone to talk to, I’m a camera away, sugar~.” He chuckled, zapping away and into the camera where he came from.

You tried to run to catch him, but to no avail, “You fucking idiot! That sounded stupid!” You yelled at the camera. After which you sat back down on your bed. Maybe things would get better after this conversation. It was you he wanted after all.

#RAHHH #hazbin hotel #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox hazbin #yandere vox is canon #yandere vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere

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punk-and-anxious · 8 months

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I’m curious about your reasoning for why midam when they share a body and/or have vessels that are identical(?) and based on Adam is okay, but not if Michael is either using John as a vessel (assuming it’s only the body and John himself is not in there too) or just looks like John in AUs and such. Is it just personal squick?

(Speaking as someone who’s been shipping midam for a while. John as Michael’s vessel was pretty common pre-the s15 reveal, especially in AUs, where it’s just a hot face to give to the archangel we want Adam to kiss. Nothing wrong with disliking it, but I like hearing new opinions on this ship and comparing them to the conversations people have been having about it for a while.)

I honestly have no idea why. I made the og post exactly because i realized my preference and had no actual reason for it?

I was already in the fandom pre s 15 reveal and yes i too read shit ton of midam fics with young Johns face as Michael, so im not totally opposed to it. I just prefer the weird mind fuckery of sharing a body (might be because of my love for all cosmic horror and weird mind fuckery)

I think the preference comes from it still looking like Adams dad in a way? Even when it's not. Like have you seen pictures of your parents when they were young. They dont look like your parents at all but its still them. So id see it as weird on Adams pov. Like would he get past Michael looking like his father? Would he see only Michael or his dad?

And yes i would fuck my own clone if i could (for science) so i dont have an opposition on the whole I SWEAR ITS NOT SELFCEST PLEASE LISTEN version of Midam. Because you dont really see yourself that often, so itd be different? Idk

Honestly

I have no idea why xD and im not hating on anyone who likes the young John as Michaels vessel/face. Since, like i said, been there! And if i find a really good fic like that, ill happily read it :3 (i know my og post seemed a bit harsh and stuff but thats just my humor. Dry and angry seeming about small shit. Like anwsering FUCK YOU when someone asks you to get the mail, and doing it anyway. Because why woukd i be mad? But akso i get passionate about stuff and so on. I hope it didnt come off as me hating the idea compleatly!)

Idk if this makes any sense or answers anything or if it's just rambles! Like i said i honesky dont know, and the more i think for a reason the more it makes no sense for me to have a preference on it, yet here we are

:3 ill try clear stuff up more if ya need me to <3

#question #thank you so much anon for the Q!!!! <3 #i hope this makes sense to ya #midam

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atrwriting · 1 year

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chapter thirteen: control -- aemond x highborn!fem!reader

i want to comfort gloomy looking aemond but i feel like he would take one of my eyes

as always, warnings: no sm!t, reader is still held hostage, reader is pregnant

anyway… chapter thirteen:

when aemond first entered the tent and saw no sign of his wife, or the guards, he thought that she must’ve wormed her way around the guards’ orders or made them take her somewhere. he almost cursed her name, but then he saw the spilled goblet of wine on the carpet floor.

and the blood. a small puddle had formed a few inches from where the wine had spilled.

his sole eye went wide as his heart rose into his throat. he tried to breathe, but the sensation of a blockage in his throat made him feel like he was choking.

he could feel it in his bones. he knew it.

you had been taken.

* * *

it was not long before you grew tired of the constant view of the sea, its salty and humid air, or the soft crashes of the waves on shore. it was much too peaceful of a sight to even compare to what was stirring around you, let alone inside of you.

there were very few moments in your life where you didn’t know what to do.

if you take them up on their offer, to save your own skin and the baby inside you, you not only betray the one man you love — but also condemn your child to a life of danger. there is no way anyone would accept your baby with aemond and allow it to grow up to be a threat to the throne. it would be doomed before its first cry, and you would be stupid to even think that anyone would think otherwise — much less the people that would hate its existence the most.

there’s also no telling what they would do with you directly after the marriage. like you said before — a woman is worthless after she is married and the second-born son now has all of her riches.

but jace was not a second-born son.

he was the first born son.

you would be expected to bare him sons — if they kept you, that is.

you had wondered why jace was no longer marrying his cousin, but you assumed it was because of the death of lucerys and his betrothed was now free to forge a marriage alliance somewhere else that is deemed more necessary. baela and rhaena would now, presumably, would both be forging marriage alliances for the crown rather than marrying any of the heirs to the throne. however, you would most likely never be privy to such information, so there was no way of knowing if they honestly meant to keep you and your baby alive by marrying you to jace.

no way of knowing… only meant one thing.

aemond had to come save you... or you had to save yourself.

with so little at your disposal, and with aemond an ocean away that would require him to fly into the lion's den... hope began to leave you.

there was a knock at your door which brought you out of your thoughts.

a knock? on a hostage’s door?

“c-come… in?” you stuttered.

the door swung open and jacaerys velaryon revealed himself. you sucked in a sharp breath and stood to your feet, curtsying immediately after.

“my prince,” you spoke warily.

“your betrothed, soon, i would hope,” he replied. “i hope you have reconsidered our offer.”

you furrowed your brows. “you would dishonor yourself by having me refer to you as my betrothed while i am pregnant and married to another man.”

“he will not be alive for much longer,” he stated evenly, walking calmly further into the room. “i will personally see to it.”

you changed the subject. “can i help you with something, my prince?”

he cleared his throat. “i would like if you joined me for a walk.”

“and why would that please you?” you spat before your jaw clenched.

he blew air out of his nose in amusement as he slid his tongue over his bottom lip, staring at you. “it would please me to get to know the bold and loyal woman who i met in the throne room.”

“i was in hysterics,” you replied. “i hadn’t eaten, kept in the dark —“

“my apologies, for your treatment, my lady —“

“do not apologize,” you stated. “it’s the way of war.”

he raised an eyebrow. “and still, you refuse to venture outside of these four walls?”

“i don’t trust anyone outside them,” you admitted. “there is little to no reason to not kill me. you are all playing with your food — or, rather, your dragon’s food.”

he hummed in amusement as he cast his eyes down at the floor, contemplating his next response. “i understand your reluctance, princess. i do. however, i do not believe you are thinking clearly.”

you raised an eyebrow at the prince. “do tell, my prince. how should i be thinking?”

“for one, we could condemn that child’s life to that of a bastard, after we are married,” he stated. “we would could the law to pass what is owed to the royal babe out of mercy, but it is not necessary if we were to seize the throne when we win. we could keep him alive just to humiliate him… just to humiliate the life of your husband.”

you scrunched your eyebrows as your lip began to quiver. “how dare —“

“but that is not my wish,” he interrupted. “that is a threat. one you would take care to heed.”

you sighed in defeat, throwing your arms down at your side in resignation. your eyes began to well with tears as you swallowed jace’s words. what were you to do?

well, firstly, you had to consider the odds of aemond actually succumbing to whatever the blacks had in their disposal. aemond would give up anything — do anything — to keep them from winning, but you weren’t considered as smart as you are for depending on other people winning.

you had to think about the livelihood for yourself and your family.

for starters, if you accepted your offer, your family would hopefully not be considered traitors to the crown. if they were to save the unborn life of your child — at least claim they would — they might consider also saving the lives of your mother, father, and many siblings. or, at least, they would find a way to make them useful.

your unborn child? who knows. who. knows.

you never were successful when you were stubborn.

however, all your successes could be attributed to the fact that you at least made an attempt to manipulate situations to your favor.

you felt like you were betraying your husband and his side. every nerve ending in your body was screaming, begging you to spit in jace’s face and demand once more that they kill you. however, you were not only taking your life into your own hands — but your child. yours and aemond’s child. you couldn’t die. you couldn't let the baby die if you have a choice. aemond would never forgive you.

you had to try. if not for yourself, if not for your family — for aemond and your child.

you wiped away your tears and focused your gaze back on the prince. “where would you like to walk to, my prince?”

* * *

“we will find her.”

aemond targaryen didn’t care how many people said that in hope to bring him back to focus at the task at hand. they couldn’t have cared less about comforting him, no — they needed aemond focused for the upcoming battle. he could not think about the fact that he had known his wife was with child for many moons and held captive by his greatest enemies, as there was a war at hand to lead. his grandsire, the lord hand, had been spewing weak statements of hope at his turned back for over an hour in hope to inspire his grandson. aemond wanted to throw curses at him and raise his blade — but he knew it was no use. it wouldn’t bring you back.

“it is an act of aggression!” the hand insisted. “if you act on it before the time is right, it will only put more lives at risk. it will put her life and your child's life at risk.”

aemond slammed a heavy and open palm on the wooden table. the maps on the table may had barely moved, but every goblet full of wine, every book, and every useless trinket shook with aemond’s strength shook. with fire brewing in his eyes, aemond whipped around to face his grandsire.

“do not dare to advise me on matters i even knew as a child with one eye!” aemond spat. “i know their game. i am younger than all of them, including you, and still i stand where my brother should be standing at this moment. unless you have something to offer me or the safe return of my wife and unborn child, you will leave.”

“aemond-“

“now!” aemond hollered.

the lord hand sighed and withdrew into himself as he stared at his grandson. he purses his lips and cast an aimless glance to the side before giving a polite bow, and leaving the tent.

useless. all of them.

aemond later found ser cole training some of their soldiers and pulled him aside.

“what would you suggest about my wife’s disappearance, ser cole?” aemond asked.

ser cole clenched his jaw, returning aemond’s hard stare. “we fight when it is smart to, my prince.”

“you don’t think we should do anything?” aemond bit.

see cole shook his head. “no, not now, at least — my prince. if we carry out an attack that draws most, if not all of their forces, dragonstone may be left not as well guarded. that is the best time to strike.”

“that’s if she’s there,” aemond spat bitterly, clasping both of his hands behind his back and looking off into the distance.

he scanned the many crowds of soldiers loyal to the crown as they trained as best as their armor and weaponry allowed. their resources were slowly draining with each passing battle, but aemond and his employed men tried to keep their spirits as high as they could. their swords and hope were the only things they had left.

“we might not have any idea where she is at the pressing moment,” the knight began. “but within a week’s time, anyone loyal to rhaenyra would have brought the princess to her.”

aemond turned his head back towards the knight and narrowed his eye at him. cole may have been loyal to the crown, but his deep scorn towards rhaenyra is what kept him loyal. in response, aemond hummed in approval and walked away.

cole was right.

* * *

you and jace had spent almost an hour walking around what little dragonstone had to offer. there were no plentiful gardens like king’s landing, unfortunately, and you had decided that you now detested being so close to the ocean that only the sound and smell of waves consumed your senses.

“you have the sea in your veins, my prince,” you began. “does dragonstone bring you comfort?”

“the open air does, princess,” he responded uneasily.

“i prefer the woods myself,” you responded absentmindedly.

“i would think you would refute the idea of the sea being in my veins, princess,” jace snipped.

you swallowed. “and why is that, my prince?”

“your husband.”

you narrowed your eyes at the sand as you walked along the shore. “if your father, the late prince laenor velaryon, were to have claimed something improper… that would be a different story. your father said you were his, and therefore you are. i don’t see any reason to challenge that.”

he laughed. “unfortunately you have not rubbed off on your husband. i must ask… does he treat you well?”

you swallowed thickly. “yes, my prince. a bit stubborn, but i have yet to meet a man who isn’t.”

“stubborn?” he laughed. "i'm afraid there is little surprise there, if any."

you nodded. “i would’ve concealed the fact that i am skilled with knives, but apparently you and your family already know. aemond allows me to train, but never to fight.”

“if there’s anything i’ve learned from my mother, it’s that you should never cage a bird that wishes to sing.”

you laughed. “i would agree, but a woman in my position obeys her lord husband and her duties. there are no need for knives in a time of peace.”

“well, if you were my wife — when you are my wife, i hope — i would not see a problem with you fighting.”

he said that so carelessly, as if it never would cross his mind in the first place to allow a woman to wield a blade in battle. it almost made you stop in your tracks because you couldn’t believe a man in power could say such things.

“what of your past betrothed, my prince?” you gushed. “how is she taking this?”

jace stopped in his tracks to look upon you. “do you really want to know?"

“how is she taking this?”

he narrowed his eyes at you. “we were saddened as we had grown close, but our family puts duty above all else. she will be betrothed to another man, and you and i will be betrothed, if you agree.”

“that’s done then?” you spat. “you would give up your accord with her for a girl you don’t know?”

“i would,” he insisted. “and she would do the same. we should be doing this. for our family, and for the crown.”

you glared at him and scoffed. “and you expect me to—“

“i expect you to give value to your life,” he bit, stepping closer to you. “we are not our uncles. women are not objects. if you can’t get past that, then you should get past that for the baby in your womb. whether or not it is a boy, they are still a person, and you will treat it as such — or you are no better than them.”

you scrunched your eyebrows at the prince, speechless. you were at a complete loss for words at his rebuttal. your lips began to purse as you attempted to craft a response, but jace cut you off.

“i will escort you back to your room now,” he stated before walking ahead of you.

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond targaryen smut #aemond fic #aemond #aemond one eye #aemond smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x you #hotd aemond #hotd headcanons #hotd #house of targaryen #house of the dragon

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noose-lion · 2 years

Note

Ok so. Out of all the titles, the one I was LEAST interested in was "ugly duckling" because it looked pretty basic. But upon further inspection of my choices of interest,

1) it may very well be the best fic I've ever read and

2) the title doesn't really give much away. It could be. Well. Anything. I'm going to assume it's either about Dazai or Chuuya's humanity/differences from "normal" people.

Anyway, can't wait for that one! (Take your time though, give yourself breaks and try to stay healthy (✿^‿^))

WDTSDG is too cryptic and I don't like not knowing things so you're telling me about that >:( (chapter 6~)

Smoke and mirror caught my attention because it's the most recently opened...yes

Fox and the sheepdog!! Dazai's going to be foxy and Chuuya is going to be the sheepdog- Aww~ no but really what's it about. Because I saw a werewolf AU HC post just a few days ago. So I'm taking it literally for now

That's all! I hope you don't mind me asking, and of course you have a choice to answer them, you don't have to if you don't want to.

Have a good day/night :)

"Ugly Duckling"

This is a story of healing from grief. Dazai has to come to terms with Oda's choice and his own glorified version of his friend, and in doing so he gains insight into the concept of humanity. It's also a really sweet "accidental kid acquisition".

As he reached the top he was met with the open door of the above shop apartment.

It creaked further open, possibly the wind but more likely the trespasser Dazai had heard from below. Slowly, he pushed the door and slipped into the apartment. At first glance he was met with a dark and deserted dormitory like abode. Second glance, it was obvious someone had been living here for the past week.

Dazai felt a pinprick flame ignite in his gut, subtly becoming a larger and larger furnace of sharp heat, the closest thing to anger possible for the Demon Prodigy. How dare some lowlife trespass into Oda's world.

Something crashed to the ground. Dazai spun left toward the offending sound, seeing that a closet was cracked open. Yanking his gun from his waistband he charged forward, throwing open the closet door.

"I'm sorry!"

It's Sakura. She's huddled at the back of the tiny closet, buried in a blanket. Dazai only recognizes her from a picture Oda had shown him once. Dazai drops his gun in shock, Mori would hate that, as the four year old stares up at him with wet eyes.

"How-" Dazai had never considered this.

How is she alive?

Oda is dead. And in his death he's left behind two lonely orphans. One a dear friend the other his beloved child.

Oda told him to save the orphans, but Dazai never considered that he'd be the sole caretaker of a child at 18. On that note he also never thought he he'd leave the mafia or live this long. And now that he has her, Dazai isn't sure he could live without her.

---

"Where Do The Strays Go?" (WDTSG)

This one actually has 5 chapters already up on my ao3 (@ noose_lion). It's a Tokyo Ghoul bsd au. Kinda niche, but I'm doing it for fun and it's not my usual polished work. I try to update monthly.

---

"Smoke And Silver"

Dazai pressed the gun back to the sobbing man knelt before him, he cocked it, grinning when the mole flinched. "Please, please, please…" the man blubbered and begged.

The gun clicked and the mole screamed before slumping to the ground crying. Dazai's face was contemplative, watching the boy Hirotsu felt uneasy. He began making his way toward him.

Dazai was staring at the man crumbled at his feet. Slowly he crouched before him nudging the mole's head with his gun. "You really sought to live that much? Then why, pray tell me, did you not give up your partner?"

And with that Dazai reached forward and brushed his fingers across the mole's forehead. A flash of blue light revealed a trembling woman standing at the back of the warehouse. As every mafia member and their gun turned toward the women, Hirotsu leaped forward. Dazai's gun went off with a bang, Hirotsu's stern hand the only thing keeping it pointed at the ceiling and not at the boy's head. Dazai's eyes were filled with such melancholy as he turned to look at the silver haired man. "A pity that you interrupted."

Hirotsu frowned. "I think not, Dazai-kun."

The confusion present in the boy's eyes would continue to haunt the olderman, probably forever.

Hirotsu has been assassinated. Dazai and Chuuya are investigating it with with a hunch that it's a inside job. Hirotsu had been collecting dirt on someone, and somehow it's tied to Dazai.

---

"The Fox and the Sheephound"

(I'm still trying to figure out if Sheepdog or Sheephound is better...)

It's basically a Dazai joins the Sheep au. The events of 15 happened vastly different, leading to Chuuya and Dazai meeting a year later. The Sheep are a fully fledged gang and the only threat to the Mafia's control. Dazai is suffocating under the control of Mori, the boss reviving him from an attempt on a weekly basis. He wants out, and he's not above completely dismantling the Port Mafia on the way out.

---

THE WEREWOLF AU IS DEFINITELY GONNA BECOME A FIC, BUT ITS STILL IN THE PLANNING STAGES.

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littlemissnoname13 · 2 years

Text

Wanderlust, Wonder if it’s lust? (D.M.)

Summary: You book a vacation for you and your boyfriend when you were together. It seemed like a great idea at the time but Now you are forced to go on a trip with you ex because the trip is non refundable.

Pairing: Draco x Female!reader in a modern AU.

Warnings: mature themes explored, mature language used, there is a brief sex scene but it’s not very graphic. Please be weary of it though and read at your own discretion.

Words: 3200 (it’s a lengthy one, I’m sorry.)

A/n: writing this was an immersive experience. I wrote the first half while booking my own trip and I wrote the second half at a quaint little town spilling with art galleries and antique shops. I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it. X

Masterlist

A quick google search reveals Information she already knows.

Non-refundable (adj): not repayable or returnable in any circumstance.

When you are in love, words like forevermore sound so simple and uncomplicated.

Promises seem to roll off your tongue with the same minimal effort and nonchalant ease as spreading softened butter on toast.

When you are in love, your significant other fits you like a soft body hugging dress that you wear to every occasion because nothing ever goes wrong in that dress. Rain or shine, bachelorette party, brunch or your worst hangover—your dress is your one true north. It makes you look and feel like the best version of yourself. Much like he does.

And in those times, you don’t care for refunds or returns.

Why would you want a refund on a love that hugs all your curves, keeps you warm on cold days and makes you feel beautiful on your bad days, anyway?

There is no point demanding a cash back on it, nor asking for a discount because love is supposed to last a lifetime and beyond.

That is exactly what she thought when she booked a seven day trip with her ex boyfriend.

Now, as she reclines against one of those many uneasy little chairs at the airport lounge, she begins to regret ever paying for this stupid trip. It had taken her five whole paychecks but at the time it seemed like it was worth it.

She googled all the possible synonyms for the word “non-refundable” one last time to make sure there aren’t any loopholes she can possibly exploit to get her money back. Times are rough, inflation is high and her student loan is crushing her soul.

She simply can’t afford to not go on this trip with the little shit.

The flight is delayed for another two hours and Draco is still nowhere to be seen. She thinks it’s a good sign. At Least she can have all the Piña coladas for herself.

“I hate Piña coladas.” His voice slices through the noise of the bustling airport like a sharp blade. Every fiber of her body reacts in a way that can only be described as muscle memory.

She looks up to find him looming in front of her in dark washed jeans and a plain white t-shirt that hugs tightly on his biceps. He never wears jeans so she assumes it’s his version of vacation clothes.

“If you haven’t noticed already, the bottomless Piña coladas are non refundable too.” She slams her old overheated MacBook shut. “Also, no one is forcing you to drink them.”

“Ah, snappy as always.” A smirk pulls at his lips. “Nothing’s changed, I suppose.”

She hates that smirk. She hates that even after everything that has happened, she still wants to lean towards it like a sunflower bending towards sunlight.

“I’m only snappy when you’re around to piss me off.” She says, rolling her eyes at him. She manages to catch a peak of the tattoo she knows is hidden underneath his shirt. She doesn’t even have to see the entirety of it to remember that it’s a dragon that starts at his left bicep and coils around his shoulder. Every scale, every line work and detail of the dragon is engraved into her mind from the kisses she placed on it, once upon a time.

Draco holds out his hand—an open, inviting gesture that she ignores. She doesn’t want a truce. She doesn’t want anything to do with this man.

“Where are we going?” She asks.

“The VIP Lounge. I could use a drink..or five if you keep glaring at me like that.”

She snorts. “I sometimes forget you are filthy rich and don’t prefer fraternizing with peasants.”

“And yet here I am.”

“Why?” She asks with genuine curiosity as she gets on her two feet. “Why are you even here anyway? It’s not like missing this trip will hamper your finances.”

He goes quiet for a bit. It is a rare instance to see him at a loss for words. The blue in his eyes dim down to a fog of dark gray. Even if he manages to think of a response, he doesn’t bother to say it.

“After you.” He gestures instead and she shakes her head and stomp on ahead, dragging her suitcase with her.

****

Draco Lucius Malfoy can get a flight upgrade just by casually mentioning his full name. He can get a bright red convertible and its keys waiting for him outside the airport just by making a single phone call.

What he can’t get however is another room for himself. No matter how many times he insists to the front desk clerk that he is happy to pay double the price.

The hotel is fully booked due to a wedding happening over the weekend, followed by a company retreat. That means she is stuck with him, inside four walls and a single queen sized bed.

“It’s fine... I’ll sleep on the floor. Everything’s fine. We will spend a majority of our trip outside anyway.”

She begins to hyperventilate as she unlocks the door and pads the premises of the room, her little hand-carry luggage following her every step.

Draco enters the room shortly after her and walks straight towards the bed. He pulls at a pillow and tucks it under his left arm before marching into the bathroom.

She follows him inside and watches in quiet confusion when he tosses the pillow into the bathtub.

“There.” Draco says, dusting his hands even though the pillow is crisp and clean. “You can have the bed.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She shakes her head. “You can’t possibly sleep inside the tub. Your entire body will be aching and sore when you wake up the next morning.”

Draco raises a brow and something inside her stomach twists into a tight knot when she realizes the unintentional double entendre.

Those smoke gray eyes sweep her entire form before pausing, right at her lips. His gaze leaves a trail of heat in its wake, all across the expanse of her skin and she is suddenly thinking about his tattoo again.

The warmth makes her throat dry up and she swallows hard before compelling herself to look away.

He too, snaps out of it and walks straight out the bathroom, his shoulders brushing hers when he passes.

She thinks she should say something—anything to make this lingering cloud of tension go away. But the door clicks shut before she can manage to say a single word.

Just like that, he is gone.

****

In order to maintain mental peace and sanity, an unspoken treaty is enforced.

If he goes left, she goes right. When he hikes up to the nearest viewpoint, she walks all the way down to the ocean shore in the opposite direction. When he catches her entering the local bar for hamburgers and drinks, he crosses the street and slips into an Italian restaurant.

The day goes by in a quick montage of bright colors, craft beers, souvenir shops and her gps lady’s passive aggressive voice giving her directions.

She knows she can only avoid him for so long. Her legs are starting to ache and her hair smells like saltwater. She’ll have to go back to their shared room eventually. Unless…she finds somewhere else to crash for the night.

It’s peak tourist season so finding another hotel is not an option. It’s not like she can afford it anyway.

Throwing back her last pint of beer, she fixes her hair and tugs her top a little lower before approaching a man, sitting alone in a booth. He looks up from his phone and gives her a flirty little smile when he notices.

She sits down next to him and he orders two pints of pale ale before introducing himself as Zacharias. She shakes his hand and offers her name in return.

With each sip, they make awkward small talk about the weather, the food and other things that do not hold much substance. It is clear that he wants nothing but a one night stand too.

It’s a stupid idea, but she’s desperate. Even breathing the same air as Draco makes repressed feelings bubble up and trickle out of her. She can’t trust herself around him.

“I’m not looking for anything serious at the moment.” Zacharias clarifies just in case the message wasn’t clear enough.

“Neither am I.” She shrugs. She doesn’t think there will ever be anything serious after Draco.

“Great.” Zacharias finishes the remainder of his beer. “I’m staying over at—”

“There you are. I was beginning to think I lost you for a second.” The voice that she’d been trying to avoid all day cuts Zacharias mid sentence. She finds it hard to look up because she knows the sight of him will rob her off her breath.

“You lost me a long time ago.” She mutters.

“Do you know this guy?” Zacharias looks at her and then at Draco.

She hates how good he looks in the t-shirt and black leather jacket. His blond hair has a wild, windswept quality about it and the way stray, stubborn bits fall into his forehead make her decide that vacation Draco is unfortunately just as attractive as the all black suit one.

“I wish I didn’t.” She glared at him. “So I pretend I don’t—on most days.”

“Does that help you sleep at night?” Draco lets out a quiet laugh. “Pretending to not know me?”

It doesn’t.

She hasn’t slept in between now and then. She thinks about him way too often than she’d like to admit. She thinks about his voice, the way it sounds in the morning, the way he hums absently when she’s laying her head on his chest, the growl that escapes his lips when he is inside her.

“Uh, I think we should get going?” Zacharias suggests, getting up from the booth and dusting his jeans clean from the chips seasoning.

She looks up at Zacharias, and then steals a glance at Draco. His eyes are the color of pure mercury under the bar lights. One glimpse and she is suddenly glued to the booth. She can tell he is furious but she secretly loves getting under his skin.

As much as she wishes she could irk him a bit more, she is too tired for games. She gives Zacharias an apologetic smile and he shakes his head and walks away.

As soon as Zacharias disappears a switch goes off and the tiny blue flecks return in Draco’s irises.

“I was just trying to give you the room, you know.” She sighs in defeat as he sits down next to her. “I didn’t want you to sleep in the tub.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor, if that helps.” He shrugs. My mum’s chiropractor says laying on the floor can sometimes help the back.”

“How’s Narcissa?”

“She asks about you all the time.” He smiles wistfully as he orders another round of drinks. Two Piña coladas. “She is convinced I am going to die alone so she keeps trying to set me up with girls.”

“Met anyone interesting?” She asks, trying to ignore the small pang of jealousy inside of her.

“None as interesting as you, I’m afraid.”

Warmth flows through her body again and she can’t help but break into a smile.

****

It’s a small coastal town prone to moody weather conditions so it starts to rain when they walk back towards the hotel, side by side, with a safe distance in between.

Streetlights overhead cast a glossy sheen on the wet concrete as the raindrops multiply from one to one hundred.

She doesn’t have a jacket with her, so she has to rub her arms to warm her from the sudden drop of temperature. Draco seems to notice this because one second he is a meter away from her, and the next he is shielding her from the rain under his jacket.

The jacket technically doesn’t do much to hide them from the rain but she doesn’t say a word.

He smells like cedar wood and mint, so familiar that she almost feels like she is finally back home after an exhausting journey uphill.

She turns her head just a little to get a better look at him and now his cheek is pressing onto her forehead. Her lips are inches away from his jaw.

“It doesn’t help me sleep at night.” She blurts. “I can unfortunately never successfully pretend to not know you.”

“Good.” He says, turning just a little and lowering his head so that their foreheads press up together. There is relief in his smile and she scowls at him.

“Why are you smiling at my misery?”

“Because I am as miserable as you are. If not more. I can’t sleep at night either.” He whispers into her temple, his voice a soft caress on her skin.

“And why is that?”

“Because I know too much. I know the way you take your coffee and I know what side of the bed you prefer to sleep in. I know what your hands feel like on my skin, and I know that you don’t own enough jackets because it is your own silent, one woman revolution against the colder months.”

He dips his head a little lower so he can place his lips on her pulse point. The graze of his teeth sends shivers down her back. “Tell me, sweetheart. How does one go about erasing someone from their mind when these little things are embedded deep into their heart?”

She can’t seem to look away now. Not when the levee holding back her emotions is threatening to burst any second.

The rain is still pouring and he lets the makeshift leather jacket umbrella drop to cup her face in both his hands. His thumbs make feeble attempts to wipe away the raindrops from her cheeks and she just laughs when he grumbles curses at the sky.

They have both had difficulty loving people and letting people in.

When she thinks about it, she doesn’t even remember how or why the breakup happened in the first place.

What she does know it’s that they have both in some ways been unlucky in life, in love, and have collectively lost so much—have lost each other.

They can always learn to heal and forgive. Can they not?

Draco seems to be asking the same question with his lips hovering dangerously close to hers.

The terms of the peace treaty are still unclear. She doesn’t know if she’s allowed to kiss him so she brings her lips close enough just to touch on his before pulling away.

He lets out a low growl. “Don’t play with me. You have me standing on a ledge right now.” He winds his fingers around a stray strand of her wet hair.

“Will you jump if I ask you to?” She whispers.

Thunder rumbles the sky and he snaps out of the trance. He backs away and presses a small kiss on the top of her head. “Over and over.” He says, walking into the hotel lobby with her. “Till it breaks every bone in my body.”

****

Awkward silence fills the room and takes out all the air from it.

He is in the shower, washing away the day's sand, rain, mist and sweat. She can hear the water run. Anytime now, he will be done with his shower. She knows she should be looking for her own change of clothes so she can slip into the shower as soon as he gets out.

“You can have the room tonight.” He says, when the shower door creaks open. “I can sleep in the car.”

“During this weather? You can’t be serious.” She grabs her bathrobe and turns around to head to the shower. That is when she sees him—his tattoo, his bare torso, his glistening and drenched body. She forgets they’re broken up for a second and wants to jump him.

She is touch starved and she just wants to feel him against her. She just wants to run her fingertips along the outline of the dragon tattoo.

“It’s cold and I don’t want you to get sick.” She clears her throat, walking towards the bathroom. “You can sleep on the bed. We’re sensible adults.”

“Sensible we are.” He mutters like he doesn’t even mean it before stepping aside to let her pass through.

She momentarily shuts the door behind her and leans back against it to catch her breath.

Maybe it was her acting on her whim, maybe it was her base instincts taking over but she opens the shower door again and finds him still standing there.

“Oh thank fuck.” He growls, scooping her into his arms and they click.

If there is such a thing as a twin flame, it would be him for her. The reunion of their lips feels a lot like home.

He kisses her like he’d been famished for this.He devours her whole—her lips, her tongue.

Then, when she tugs at his hair to draw him closer, he stops.

“What are we doing?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” She whispers back, resuming their kiss. Right now, she wants this. She needs this. The rest they can figure out in the morning.

The kiss is a whirlwind of emotions.

It’s a game of pushing and pulling. A dance of attract and repel. A song of I missed you, and a glance of I want you.

She sheds her clothes like she’s shedding a cloak armed with knives. He drops his towel like he is surrendering his hidden weapons.

They are all in.

He is all in, pressing up deeper inside of her walls.

She claws against the walls as he rocks his hips, arching her back like an invitation for him to push himself to her hilt.

“I forgive you.” She whimpers. “I forgive you for everything you’ve had to do because of me, the places you’ve been to, the darkness you’ve had to bear witness to.”

“I forgive you too.” He barely whispers into her ears when the tidal wave of pleasure hits.

When she comes seconds later, it feels like the darkness inside of her has dissipated into pure silver light—the color of his hair, the tint of pleasure in his eyes.

Later, they crawl into bed together. It’s cold but he is warm and she allows herself to get comfortable.

It’s not even been seconds but sleep knocks her out of her senses. She hasn’t felt this safe in a while.

When she wakes up the next morning, she finds him already awake and staring at her.

“When we were dating, why didn’t you tell me you hated Piña coladas?” She asks, yawning.

He lets out a sound that sounds like the combination of an amused scoff and chuckle.

“I didn’t tell you that because I loved the way your eyes lit up when I gave you my Piña colada.”

“But you always ordered it.” She scrunches her brows.

“Exactly.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I’d like to talk about last night.” She adds, unable to hide the anxiety in her voice.

He intertwines their hands and smiles down at her. “We can talk as much as you want about it during our walk across the vineyard.”

“Only if I get to drive.”

“It’s a deal.” He kisses her again, and she lets him.

***

End notes:

I’m on vacation so no tag-list was used.

I’ve been experimenting with my writing style a bit these days. Feedback is always welcomed. :)))

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lemons3ason · 3 years

Text

BNHA HUSBAND SCENARIOS: When you mention divorce after a fight

~~~~~~~~~~~

🥦Izuku Midoriya🥦

“If I mean so little to you than why’d you ever marry me?!”

Your voice echoed that same sentence in his head over and over again, you had gotten into an argument over Izuku overworking himself and it resulted in him saying things he didn’t mean. He had forgotten that behind these walls you were a married couple not hero partners, he had chosen his job over you regardless of the promise that he made that you’d always be the world he wanted to protect and now here he was, sitting alone on the couch in shame. He had hurt you with his words he knew he did, he wanted to apologize but he didn’t know what to say or do. His ears twitched to the sound of your bedroom door opening and he stood up meeting your puffy eyes before you moved towards the door.

“H-honey...w-where are you going?”, he stuttered, a feeling in his stomach made him worry.

“Out. Just go back to work or something...you’re happier there anyways.”

His body winced to the cruel venom that laced every word, he had to apologize immediately. He slowly walked up to you reaching for your hand but you quickly snapped it away and opened the door.

“(Y/n) wait I’m-“

“If I stay by you any longer then I’ll really consider divorcing you.”, you admitted coldly making the tall muscular man freeze completely.

You walked out, slamming the door as you left, leaving Izuku alone to his thoughts. You wanted to divorce him...you were actually considering it. What did he do? What was he supposed to do, he didn’t want you to leave him! He’s the number one hero, he fights villains and faces death everyday, and yet now he’s afraid and alone. Despite his frenzied mind he raced after you, nothing else mattered right now then you. Thankfully you hadn’t gotten far but he could tell from your body language that you were crying again, you always tried to play tough even when you were truly hurting inside.

“(Y/n)!”, he screamed, you name echoing in his chest.

You quickly turned around revealing your tearful eyes, you frowned quickly deciding to run rather then face your green haired husband. Izuku wouldn’t let you go so easily, not now, not ever! He activated his quirk speeding towards you and scooping you up into his arms as he floated up into the clouds. You couldn’t do anything up here so you had to listen to him, “(F/n) Midoriya I’m sorry!”, he yelled hugging you tightly.

You didn’t respond, you didn’t say a single word much to Izuku’s horror. He pressed his forehead against the top of yours and closed his eyes begging you to look at him, “Not like this. Please (Y/n) anything but this, I don’t want to lose you. We’ve been together since high school and I love you more every day so please don’t tell me you want a divorce. Just tell me what I have to do to fix my mistakes.”, Izuku pleads were desperate and shaky. You didn’t want to deal with this broken heart of yours anymore, he always chose work over you and you were tired of it.

“I-I want my Izuku back. I married Izuku Midoriya...not Pro Hero Deku. I don’t want to be your second thought anymore I’m tired of being forgotten.”, you sobbed against his chest not once looking up at him.

That’s when he realized how little time he’d been spending with you, a simple hello and good night were all he’d ever gotten from you lately. He’d go to work early, get home late, you’d stop making him dinner all together since you knew he wouldn’t come home. The stress of him neglecting you over work had finally caught up with you and now he had to fix it.

“Let’s go home (y/n).”

“Don’t wanna. I hate it there.”, you admitted.

Even if you didn’t want to he took you home. He carried you to bed and laid you down wrapping his arms around you and talking to you until you vented out all of your feelings. Once you were asleep in his arms he grabbed his phone and immediately requested time off from the agency. He had to rekindle your love for him before anything else happened and he wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

~~~~~~~~

💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Your cries had finally calmed down after an hour but Katsuki’s guilt and worry were far from gone. He couldn’t even remember the cause of the argument, so he could remember were the tears in your eyes when he had grabbed your wrist to hard and accidentally activated his quirk. The unpleasant smell of burnt flesh still lingered in the room and small drops of your blood stained the floor.

“(Y/n)...open the door. Let me clean your wound before it gets infected.”, Katsuki called from the other side of your bedroom door.

He didn’t hear any noise from the other side so he assumed you were ignoring him but he deserved it. All he did was fight with you lately, the stupid stress from work was making him angrier then he already was but why would he take it out on you? He called for you again trying to get any sign that you were okay. He was hopeful when he heard the door unlock but your cold heartless expression made his blood freeze.

“I’m tired Bakugou. I’m tired of being the stupid ass sponge that you dump all your problems out on and then ring out when you’re not angry anymore. Finish filling these out, I’m leaving tonight because I can’t do this anymore.”, you sighed slamming some papers against his chest before returning to your room.

The angry blonde knew he fucked up the moment you called him by his last name, you only ever did that when you were furious so he knew he fucked up. He didn’t want to bother you anymore then he had so he left to the kitchen to look over the papers you had given him. He assumed it was paperwork for work since you both worked at his agency but his heart dropped when he realized that they were divorce papers. Everything was already filled out all that was needed was his signature of consent to start the divorce process. His mouth ran dry, his heart pace quickened, and his hands became sweaty from nervousness. He raced back to your bedroom forcing the door open to see you packing your suitcase and frowned at you. You met his eyes briefly but returned to filling your suitcase despite him wanting to speak with you.

“B-bab-(Y/n)...(Y/n) why divorce? I-It doesn’t...I-I mean we don’t-“

“You don’t love me anymore that’s why you’re always fighting with me right?”, you dared to ask holding your injured arm up to your chest.

Katsuki body froze to your assumption, is that how he’s made you feel? “(Y/n) I love you. I do, I love you just like the day I confessed to you. Just like the day I proposed to you, just like-like our wedding day.”, He confessed shaking as tears poured from his eyes. “I don’t want to let go of you! You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You turned to him with sad eyes taking in his stressed appearance and sighed, you couldn’t do this anymore. You were tired from always being yelled at and then suddenly being loved, you weren’t sure if he was bipolar or just being a dick anymore so you couldn’t bear to deal with this another day.

“Bakugou just sign the papers. You’re not gonna change, I’m not gonna be able to take another day of this especially if you’re getting so violent that you’d actually hurt me.”, your voice was soft and broken the more you spoke you didn’t want to leave him but you couldn’t take this anymore, “I’m not asking for anything just let me g-“

You gasped feeling him suddenly embrace you, you flinched in his arms but he just held you tighter afraid to let you go. His lips kissed yours feverishly making you reconsider your decision until he pulled away.

“Don’t do this (Y/n) I won’t be able to live with myself if I lost you. I’m sorry, I’ll get better, just please don’t leave me. Stay here tonight I’ll go to a hotel or something so you have some time to yourself and then I’ll come back and make you breakfast and if you still feel the same tomorrow then I’ll sign the stupid fucking papers.”, he admitted handing you the papers.

His hands shook violently with fear, he didn’t want to let go of them knowing that you’d probably still feel the same tomorrow. You were able to pull them out of his grip and he left to pack his bag for the night. You didn’t say a word as you watched him pack his bag for the night, he was ready to leave but not before pressing another kiss to your lip and apologizing again.

“Goodnight love I’ll see you tomorrow.”, he smiled nervously back at you watching you merely nod and wave him goodbye.

It wasn’t until now that Katsuki realized just how distant you were from him.

~~~~~~~~~

🔥Shoto Todoroki❄️

It was just the heat of the moment and the stress from arguing that made Shoto say what he said. Now with his hand over his mouth and new tears falling from your eyes the fighting had ended with both sides losing. He had cheated on you with his best friend, the very girl he told you never to worry about. You stared down at your feet, face heating up in embarrassment, while your vision became blurrier.

“(Y/n) I-“

You held your hand up signaling for him to stop, you went to your room to pack your suitcase and leave. He tried to speak with you but you wouldn’t listen and to make it worse he answered the phone to Momo as you packed. While he was busy talking to her you slipped out of the front door not once daring to look back. You’d stay at a hotel for tonight then move back to your home town, your mother was right to be wary of him but to think he had actually thrown you away for Momo was almost to unbelievable.

“Where did it all go wrong?”, you sighed to yourself getting into the Taxi.

You were practically at the front desk requesting a room when Shoto finally called you. An hour had already passed but it made you realize just how little you meant to him now that he had who he truly wanted. Once you were settled in your hotel room you answered him, your voice dead and hoarse from sobbing.

“(Y/n) please come back home. I-I didn’t mean to do it, I’m sorry just please come ba-“

“I want a divorce Todoroki, if you wanted her so badly that you went behind my back to do it then I no longer want to be your wife.”, you replied coldly hanging up before he could speak anymore.

You blocked his number and tossed your phone into a forgotten corner of the room. You called your mother on the room phone to tell her you’d be going back and the pain in her voice over hearing you heartbroken made her regret ever jinxing you. You heard a knock at your door and sighed believing it was room service so you put on a fake smile as you answered the door but it dropped once you saw Shoto standing before you.

“Go away.”, you warned slamming the door on him but his ice blocked it from shutting completely.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry, it only ever happened once I promise. I wasn’t thinking right it was during your year long undercover mission I-I don’t even remember what made us do it-“

You glared at him, with a heavy heart your hand met your left cheek, the sound echoed in the room before he turned to look at you again.

“I stayed loyal to you all these years and when I leave for one you decide to fall for another woman and sleep with her. I’ve always been insecure especially about women as beautiful as Yaomomo, and just when I was starting to believe you about being prettier than her you threw it all away!”, you sobbed holding yourself in your arms, “What did I do to make you stop loving me? To make you stoop low enough to cheat on me!”

God your words were killing him, each tear made his guilt worse and worse, “(Y/n) I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”

“No you’re not. You hold back because you’re lying to yourself that you love me but even I know that you don’t. Just go Shoto...it’s over I want nothing to do with either of you.”, you sighed turning your back to him one last time. He reached out to grab you but he couldn’t seem to reach you. Even though you were so close his body wouldn’t let him move, tears spilled from his dual colored eyes as he turned to leave. You heard the door shut and sighed it was over.

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

🐙Tamaki Amajiki🐙

“A-Angel, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that.”, Tamaki cried.

You body was limp in his grasp and to defeated sigh left Tamaki fearful of what was going to leave your mouth, “If you don’t love me then why do you bother staying here? I’ll just do you the favor and set you free. Once the divorce is settled then you won’t have to deal with someone annoying like me ever again.”, you spoke softly somehow escaping his grip as you disappeared into the bedroom. Tamaki was shaking, a cold sweat washed over him and his heart was racing. He hadn’t suffered an anxiety attack this serious since high school, he wanted you to comfort him but he knew right now you wouldn’t do that.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry. P-please don’t say you’ll divorce me. I don’t want anyone else I-I just want you.”, he admitted rushing to your room to see you packing your things.

His stomach dropped when he finally realized you were serious about this. He begged for you to listen, poor excuses falling from his lips with each passing second. “Tamaki just stop, why would you want to stay with someone you don’t even love? The damage is already done Tamaki so you have to deal with the consequences. I’m going to live with my mother until I get back on my feet, I don’t want anything from you just sign off the papers once you get them.”, you sighed zipping up your suitcase as you prepared to leave.

Tamaki’s quirk activated, his tentacle finger slammed your suitcase away in a matter of seconds. Once again you were yelling at him but he didn’t care, he walked up to you and fell to his knees just at your feet and wrapped his arms around your waist latching onto you desperately. “Tamaki let go.”, you warned pushing him off by his shoulders. Not a word left his lips, he just held onto you tighter. “Let go Amajiki.”, you sighed breaking to the sound of his soft sobs against your stomach.

“I-I can’t lose you. N-not like this. S-sorry...so s-sorry.”, he hiccuped stumbling over his words, “I need you. You’re not annoying, you’re not overbearing, you’re perfect! I love you, I didn’t mean what I said please don’t leave me!”, he screamed his tentacles wrapping around you desperately to keep you in his grasp.

“You don’t mean that. The anger in your eyes as you spoke to me only proved that you don’t love me. Let go and find someone you actually love because this... this isn’t the love you need.”, you sighed.

His nose pressed against your stomach as he begged the little person in you to convince you to stay, this wasn’t easy for you. The stress from your work and being pregnant was becoming to much for you and Tamaki’s anger towards you wasn’t helping your mental state.

“Please please don’t leave me. I can’t lose both of you.”, he sobbed.

You sighed and called his name making him look up at you, his tears poured down his eyes and his face was scrunched up on despair to the situation. Another sigh left your lips, “I’m tired Suneater.”, you whispered forcing Tamaki to freeze at the sound of his hero name. His fingers returned to normal, and although the situation was still at hand you decided to stop for the night. This strain was too much for you to handle, “Good night Suneater.” Your elf eared husband sat on the floor in shock as you drifted off to sleep fresh tears spilling silently from your eyes. He didn’t love you that’s all that replayed in your mind.

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

🐈‍⬛Shinsou Hitoshi🐈‍⬛

You had mentioned divorce to him once after a cruel fight in return became brainwashed for several seconds and never dared to mention it again. Where did it all go wrong? Why did it become like this? You were to afraid to speak with your own husband because of his quirk, you were so bottled up from the neglect and loveless heartache bubbling up in you that you just decided that it was better to leave. Hitoshi wouldn’t even bother talking to you about your deteriorating marriage so what was the point. He’d get home, not even say hello and go straight to bed. Maybe you were overthinking things but in the end it would be the best for you, your high school sweetheart no longer loved you simple as that.

“(Y/n)? (Y/n) are you here?”, a female voice called, you kept your lips shut until your best friend emerged from the front door, “H-Hey why didn’t you answer me?”

“S-sorry force of habit. Sorry that I had to involve you in my running away.”, you giggled nervously.

“So you’re actually gonna take this mission? It’s an undercover mission and at a minimum you have to be off grid for a year, are you sure you can handle this?”, your friend Aiko asked.

“Y-yeah...nobody will recognize me now that I’ve quit the agency.”, you smiled.

Aiko quickly grabbed your bags and took them to her car as you left your goodbye note. Shinsou’s pet cat sat by watching you carefully, “Take care of him old friend.”, you sighed leaving your goodbye note and your ring behind.

The old tabby cat nodded and rolled into a ball to sleep until his master returned, you made sure to leave his bowls filled and disappeared without a trace. The next morning when Shinsou returned home he realized that the smell of bacon or fresh coffee was vacant from the house. He believed you had maybe overslept, that was fine in a way it gave him time to cuddle with you a bit until you quietly pulled yourself from his heavy arms.

“Mocha where’s your mom?”, Shinsou yawned walking into the kitchen.

His old tabby yawned and stamped his foot on the table bringing Shinsou’s attention to the letter that his fluffy butt sat on. He quickly noticed your ring and his heart sank, for a moment he believed it was a ransom note but it turned out to be worse then he thought. He continued to read the letter until he realized that you had left him...he had lost you. The purple haired pro ran to your bedroom praying to see you asleep in the black paw print covered sheets he had bought only to see your room completely empty of any sign of you. Your clothes were gone, shoes gone, your pictures gone! You had erased your very existence from the home and it made his heart stop.

“B-baby? Baby! (Y/n) please! Stop joking around this isn’t funny anymore! (Y/n) come back out!”, Shinsou cried collapsing to his knees from exhaustion.

If only he had realized his mistake before you had left and gone away, if only.

#deku x y/n #deku x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha fanfiction #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #tamaki amajiki x reader #tamaki amajiki x you #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #bnha

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elysianslove · 3 years

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secrets that you keep; iwaizumi hajime

synopsis; in which his best friend is secretly a camgirl. part 1, part 2

pairings; iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

genre; smut

trigger warnings; i highly recommend reading the first two parts before this. they’re only drabbles that introduce everything! anyways, this is absolute filth. don’t read this if any of the stuff mentioned could trigger you, please! masturbation, camgirl stuff, one mention of the word ‘daddy,’ self choking, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie, a lot of choking, accidental breathplay, not proofread unfortunately

she knows.

does she?

it’s an ongoing inner battle he’s been having for weeks now, ever since he’d been directed to that trending video of yours. he sees you in his dreams, hears you loud and clear, moaning and crying for him, and worst of all, he feels you, so perfectly, against his, around him, and it’s overwhelming in the worst way possible. even maintaining eye contact is tiresome at this point.

but he does wonder whether you know or not, more often than he should— were you deliberately calling out for him, in hopes that he’d find this video somehow? or had you said it because you’d assumed this is your safe place, that there’s no way he’d be able to find these videos? had it been a slip up? or, more accurately, multiple slip ups? what were the chances anyways, that it had been an accident, or unintentional, or intentional and he had been losing sleep over it, or that he wasn’t the hajime you were crying out for?

his heard hurt. awfully. there’s already the constant worry of regulating his breathing around you and cleansing his thoughts of anything he’d seen of you the moment you meet, but this added dilemma is in no way helping. every day that you text him for a coffee date, or a night out after a rather stressful week, or a night in at your apartment, and he agrees, his mind diverts immediately to where it shouldn’t as soon as he lays eyes on you. and the worst part of it all is how aware he is of how wrong this is. he knows it’s wrong to choose the revealing shirt over the other when you ask him for his opinion, just because he wants that effortless glance at your cleavage. it’s also so wrong of him to give a higher rating to that obscenely short dress than that other, knee length one because of the way your thighs squeeze when you sit. it’s definitely wrong of him to offer clasping your anklet, the one he’d gotten for you, the one that had been the dead giveaway to your secret online persona, just because your legs feel so soft against the rough pads of his fingers, when he resists the urge to trail upwards, upwards, upwards—

it’s fucking ridiculous.

he can’t believe just how deep of a rabbit hole finding one of your videos is, how it’s impossible to climb out and away, and even worse, how he keeps falling deeper. the one time he decides to jerk off to porn. it’s really ridiculous.

about a week ago, three weeks after finding that video of yours someone had uploaded— which had been taken down because of copyright, and hajime personally thinks that’s fair, considering there’s a reason you pay people to watch your videos and look through your photos, otherwise you would’ve taken the liberty to post everything for free yourself— hajime gives in, and subscribes to you. it’s with a randomized account name, something he tried his very best to make as anonymous as possible, so that it would in no way lead back to him. he doesn’t check in on your account as often, also having taken the time to turn off notifications and not have anything sent to his email, and it’s mostly out of shame. he already feels dirty enough having seen this much of you, even more that he’s fantasized about you. he’s not about to make it worse for himself.

every once in a while, though, especially days where he’s sure he’s completely free of responsibilities, he logs on, and finds your page. it just so happens that tonight, you’re hosting a live stream. swallowing his pride and shame, literally so, he shifts on his bed, sitting up straighter, and clicks to join.

he’d been a little late apparently, because you’re already bare, sitting on a chair. your legs are lifted up, knees bent and hooked over the chair’s arms, the camera angled to show everything, from your cute eyes to the flesh of your ass. there’s a vibrator in your hand, buzzing lightly as it hovers by your clit, dipping between your folds, sliding back up again to rub lazily at your clit. beneath you, on the chair, is a small damp spot, leaking from your cunt. hajime stops himself before his jaw falls slack at the sight of you, and instead, he clears his throat, gritting his teeth and watching carefully.

you’re not so talkative during your videos, just exclamations of pleasure and (the most beautiful of) noises, so he hadn’t expected you to be during your lives. to his surprise, you are, and it’s filthy.

whimpering lightly, you press the vibrator harsher on your clit, your other hand traveling up to squeeze at your breast. “m’so needy,” you admit with a soft pout, adding, “want you to tell me what to do, mmh.”

he’s assuming the ‘you’ is the audience, whoever’s willing to speak up, and it’s then that he notices the chat option. his eyes flicker curiously to it, hands twitching where they sit fisted at his lap as he sees the chat explode with orders and commands and suggestions for you.

one writes, stuff urself full, and hajime gapes.

another commands, wanna see u cry tn, and hajime privately agrees.

someone else writes, gonna squirt princess?

hajime’s hands twitch again, and he frowns, digging his nails into his palms. you’re ignoring all the suggestions, and it’s obvious because you’re reading through them, mouthing some of them, giggling at some, curiously gasping, ‘oh,’ at others, eyebrow quirking. the vibrator trails down to your hole again, and you experimentally dip it inside slightly, shivering visibly as the vibrations rush through you, and the moment he hears you moan so loud, he thinks, fuck it, and his hands reach for his keyboard.

choke yourself.

fuck, fuck, fuck, he did not just do that.

his heart is racing embarrassingly fast beneath his ribcage, loud and pathetically deafening in his ears as he watches your eyes read through the rest of the messages, and you’ve stopped mouthing them, your eyes are widening— which one are you at now? are you just going to ignore him? why wouldn’t you? of course you—

“you’d like that, huh?” you teasingly slur, a lazy, cheeky grin painting your lips, your teeth biting down on your lower lip and your hand— your hand—

it’s trailing upwards, upwards, upwards, until it finds its way around your throat, resting lightly, and just as he sees your fingers squeeze at the sides of your neck slightly, carefully, you pout at the camera, looking straight at him, and asking, “like this, daddy?”

a low fuck wheezes past his lungs, and his hand quickly presses down at the bulge in his sweatpants, squeezing and rubbing at his clothed dick as he watches you, entranced. people watching you with him have taken to thanking him for the idea, and to praising you, calling you a good girl, cursing, rapidly typing out something along the lines of you’re so hot i wanna fuck you so bad, and god, hajime hates that he relates to something as stupid as that.

your hips roll and your head falls back, hand not once leaving your throat. if anything, your grip tightens. you click on the vibrator, and the buzzing becomes louder, your moans with it, as if you were competing. you cry and gasp and sob, writhing in your own hold, your thighs tensing and your hole clenching around nothing as you harshly rub the vibrator against your clit. your cunt gushes and drips as you bring yourself closer to your orgasm, as you cry out a string of, “m’gonna cum, so close, so close!” and a mixture of lewd curses, until finally, you cum. you’re sent over the edge, legs swinging on the chair, high pitched squeals falling from your lips— which hajime can’t decide are real or not, or whether he wants them to be or not. you thrash and cry, tears, as promised to some other watcher, dripping down your cheeks.

the last straw however, is your comedown from your high, sobs hiccuping and muscles twitching, eyes half closed and body limp as you mewl out, “hajime, hajime, hajime,” like you’re not even aware you’re doing it. like it’s subconscious.

hajime swears again, a deep, low, “fuck,” and looks down to find a damp spot on his lap. he really came from barely any friction, all because of you. this really is as ridiculous as it gets.

the next time he sees you, there are the faintest of bruises on your neck. it’s not so obvious that just anyone would notice, but ever since becoming hyperaware of everything that is you and everything that you do, it’s hard not to have them be the first thing he sees. to ensure that the atmosphere between the two of you remains easy, he flicks at your neck and tuts with a smirk, asking you jokingly if you were in your hoe phase.

“so vulgar, hajime,” you sarcastically retort, teasing him. “you like calling me mean things?” and he has to avert eye contact because all his walls crumble so quick.

it’s just the two of you tonight, in his apartment, all your other mutual friends having cancelled at one point or another. it’s not an unusual occurrence; more often than not, the two of you are alone. however, it’s been a while since you’d been alone, privately. a while meaning ever since hajime had discovered your side hustle of a sort. he hadn’t been purposely avoiding this— no, maybe he has, but to be fair, he’s still yet to recover from the initial shock.

it also doesn’t help that since today had meant to be a relaxing night in, you’re dressed casual, but in the hottest fucking way possible. he hopes he hadn’t been blushing as hard as he thinks, and feels, he was, when you’d first stepped into his home. on your hips is a short, black skirt, flowing out to your upper thighs, where just above your knees start a pair of dark thigh highs, squeezing at your thighs and accentuating your legs as you strut around his apartment, feet bare of any shoes or slippers. he can’t decide whether it’s cute or just plain hot. somehow, with you, it’s both. your shirt is off the shoulder, a dark, navy blue bardot, and beneath it, peeking out to rest at your collarbones, is a black bralette. he can barely just see the intricate lace designs, but it disappears and dips beneath your shirt before he can see more of it.

you’re spread out on the couch, laying along it on your stomach, a pillow tucked in your arms and beneath your head, your clothed legs bent and swinging up in the air. he sits right by you, thigh right by your head, his body as tense as ever. it’s impossible not to be you, not with you in such close proximity to him when only a few days ago he’d watched you make yourself cum, and had heard you whimper out his name after. who can blame him, really?

with your eyes trained on the screen, he hadn’t been expecting you to speak up.

“iwa, what type of porn do you watch?”

he nearly chokes, eyes widening as he spares you a glance. your legs continue to swing innocently, your eyes unmoving, your voice unwavering. the suddenness of the question certainly threw him off, but it’s your nonchalance that really shocks him. but, considering everything, it really shouldn’t have.

“uh, what?” he offers weakly, wincing slightly at the barely there crack in his voice.

you sigh, shifting to sit up. you plant yourself on your knees, spreading them apart slightly to get comfortable, and shrugging at him. “i’m just curious,” you say. “or,” your eyes squint cautiously, your head cocking to the side slightly, “do you not watch porn?”

challengingly, his arms lift up to cross at his chest, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes momentarily glance at the way his biceps bulge. it makes his confidence spike slightly, nervousness ebbing away. “what type of porn do you watch?”

you gasp dramatically, joking, “take a girl out to dinner first, my god.” he laughs, relaxing lightly at the banter, before his eyes fall back to you. you inch forward curiously, cautiously, still on your knees. now closer to him, you ask again, “seriously, i’m really curious! confirm my suspicions for me.”

“oh?” he quirks an eyebrow. “so you think you know?”

at this, you offer him a knowing smile, eyes slightly half lidded. you’re somehow even closer now, leaning towards him with your hands resting on the small space between you and him in the couch, helping you in lifting yourself up slightly on your knees as you say in a low voice, “baby, i think everyone knows.”

at the sight of you by his side, he feels himself shiver, and an idea invades his mind before he can even process it. “oh, do you now?” he’s not sure where this boldness is emerging from, especially with how cautious and shameful he’d been and felt for weeks now, but he accepts it either way, because the way you’re staring at him like that, he never wants to let it go. and although he wants to drag out this intense eye contact even longer, in order to do what he wants to do, he has to break it, reaching for his phone instead. unable to contain your curiosity, you peak over, watching with confusion as he types out a link.

the blood drains from your face when you recognize your page on his browser, and he’s logged on— he’s subscribed.

“what type of porn do i like to watch?” he wonders rhetorically. the phone is pushed aside, and he sits up straighter so that even on your knees, he looms over you. his eyes are skimming over you, along your body, up to your neck, to your lips, to your shocked, wide eyes. and just as his hand trails up to your throat, his palm resting at the base and one finger tapping lightly, he says, “the type where my favorite girl cries out my name when she cums for the world to see.”

the hand around your throat—

“you,” you breathe out, and finally, finally, when your brain makes sense of everything, your body relaxes, sags against him, leaning more into him until his hand’s properly wrapped around your throat.

with your mind hazing over, you reach over, and kiss him.

he meets you halfway, as if having expected it, lips pressing harshly against his. his hand tightens as he pulls you closer, lifting you up slightly and bringing you closer to him as his mouth parts, breathing you in, and kissing you deeper, lewder. you shiver and gasp, hands grasping at his wrist and forearm, not to push him away but rather to urge him closer, as you kiss him back just as eagerly. it seems like hours, with his hand around your neck, tight and a daunting reassurance, and your lips wet and hot against his, but eventually, his hand slides down, the other mirroring it, finding their way to your waist, squeezing and bunching at the skirt as he, with complete and utter and shocking ease, lifts you up off the couch.

you gasp as he stands up with you, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he pulls you to him. as he blindly walks the two of you to his bedroom, he breathlessly asks in between your kisses, “is this— you sure this is okay?”

with a sharp tug at his hair, you jokingly spit out, “iwa shut up.”

he tosses you onto the bed, allowing you a minute to strip yourself of your shirt while he slips out of his own, before quickly falling above you, caging you in with his arms as he kisses you again. “not iwa,” he quietly asks of you.

for a moment you’re confused, before everything clicks again— your slip ups— and your legs lift up, wrapping around his waist and pulling his hips closer to yours just as you mewl out, “hajime, please.”

god, he is way easier than he thought he was.

his entire body shudders above you, one hand lowering to push at your skirt to grind his hips down against yours until his clothed crotch meets your bare cunt and— holy fuck, holy fuck.

“fuck, you slut.”

you gasp at both his words and the feel of his bulge pressing down against your clit, his lips meeting your neck instead. “you do like calling me mean things,” you say, and he scoffs, his hand traveling upwards to squeeze at your breasts instead.

“you like me calling you mean things,” he notes, and you let out a muffled moan as he pinches at your nipples through the bralette, lips biting and sucking at your neck.

“i do,” you pant, arching up into him. “i do, i do.” his hands are fumbling at your chest, and god, they’re so large, so big and warm and harsh, it’s fogging up your brain.

“yeah, yeah, fucking whore,” he growls, pushing himself slightly on his knees, hands tugging at the bralette. his fingers dip past, gripping the fabric tightly, and as he says, “can’t fucking— take this shit— off,” he tears through it, knuckles whitening as he pulls it away from your body, or what’s left of it. the frills of the ruined bra fall off the edge of his bed, and he watches your wide eyes and gaping mouth follow it, so he grabs at your jaw, twisting your gaze away from it and grunting a low, “shut up.”

you pull away from the kiss, breathing heavily as you say, “that was so fucking hot, hajime,” before kissing him again. he parts his mouth as you lead him to you again, tongue easily meeting yours.

it’s a messy kiss as he slips himself out of his sweatpants, taking his boxers with it and discarding them somewhere in his room. his cock slaps against his stomach, a single string of precum messily staining his tan abs. your eyes are quick to gaze down, lips painted a dazzling grin as his hand finds his cock, squeezing at the head and smearing his precum along.

“knew you were fucking big,” you gasp, eyes trained on him as he strokes himself above you, and he is. he’s so big, thick and heavy, and veiny and your mouth waters at how that’s going to feel when inside of you, stretching you out so good, so much better than any of the toys you had at home. “i thought,” a squeal hiccups out of you as both of his hands grab at your hips from beneath your skirt, one sticky and warmer than the other, “about you all the time.”

your confession draws his attention, and when he’s pulled you close enough, two of his fingers trail to your cunt, quirking an, “oh?” just as he dips his fingers inside. the lack of resistance he’s met with is surprising, and he chokes out, “did you stretch yourself out before coming here? fuck yourself on some fake cock?”

tightlipped, you moan, brows furrowed and back arched into him. god, his fingers were not enough. “yes, yes,” you gasp, head falling back. despite not needing to, he still fingers you, his thick digits fucking into you slowly, driving you insane by the second. “yes, i— pretended t’was you,” you whine loudly. at your words, he curls his fingers inside of you, twisting his wrist and pressing his palm directly on your clit.

“do you always?” he lowly asks, dipping closer to you as he fucks his fingers deeper. his fingers were inside of you, the cunt he’d spent over a month marveling at through a screen, the pretty pussy his dick had drooled over for hours. you’re real, as real as ever beneath him falling apart, making a mess of your black skirt, drenching it with your arousal.

you moan out a hum, nodding dumbly as his fingers vibrate with the intensity of speed inside of you, your toes curling in your thigh highs and face twisting to press into his mattress. “always,” you cry out, like a promise. “always think of you— hajime!”

it’s an unexpected orgasm, hitting you so fast and quick that it’s outright dizzying. it has you lifting your hips up into his fingers and palm, grinding and trembling, your legs falling and spreading open, shaking wildly by your side and above you as he fucks you through the orgasm.

“hajime, hajime, hajime,” you chant, words trailing off into tiny sobs and shuddering breaths as your hips slowly fall back onto the bed, body still trembling with aftershocks.

you’re fucked out beyond words already that you genuinely don’t feel a thing until he’s pressing inside of you, the fat head of his cock stretching you out. he’s really no match for your toys, and if seeing him hadn’t been enough confirmation, the feel of him pressing inside of you definitely is. he doesn’t ease himself in slowly, urgently grabbing the back of your thighs with either hand, keeping your legs spread for him as he bottoms out.

“fuck, fuck, knew you’d feel so good,” he grunts, brows furrowed harshly as he digs his fingers deeper against the flesh of your thighs, forcing your legs closer to your chest, and somehow pushing himself even deeper within you. you whine and mewl, toes curling and uncurling and legs trembling. “knew it the moment i saw your pretty pussy creamin’ around that thick cock.”

at the reminder that he’s watched and witnessed you, multiple times, that he’s subscribed to you willingly and curiously, you clench down around him. you feel him twitch inside of you, groaning loudly as he falls closer to you, your legs falling to his waist.

“you like knowing i was watching you?” he sneers, his hand reaching up and gripping at your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing a pout on your lips. your eyes nearly fucking cross as he rams into you, his fingers digging into your jaw. “you like that i fucked my fist every night to you? to your pretty cunt and your pretty noises and your pretty face— yes, good girl, that one.”

your eyes do cross this time, spurred on by his words, your tongue peaking out through the small gap he allows with how harsh he’s gripping your face. he’s pushing out little mewls and cries from you, but otherwise, you quite honestly feel braindead.

“fuck, you’re a gorgeous little slut,” he gasps. “all mine to fuck and use.”

you’re quick to nod rapidly, whining and moaning for him as you grip at his biceps. you’re choking on your breath as you struggle to keep up with him while he fucks you into the mattress, so fucking hard and rough that you’re sure there’ll be an indentation of you once you leave. you can feel your cunt gushing, and you can hear it too, squelching loudly with every thrust of his hips, every time his cock fucks into you. your skirt feels sticky and gross, and so does the rest of you, but you’ve never, never, felt this euphoric, this blissed out.

your stomach tightens impossibly, the tension gradually increasing as your walls tightly squeeze and clench at his cock. slowly and surely, the pressure within you increases, your hands flying to hajime’s arm, the arm whose hand grips your face, which quickly moves to your throat at your simple gasping warning that you were close.

“gonna cum, gonna cum, hajime, fuck!”

he tightens his grip, pressing harsher on the sides of your neck as your eyes shut tightly, your head falling back once more.

“yeah, come on, show me how pretty you look cumming on a real cock,” he whispers by your ear, using the hand that’s around your throat to lift up your head, before roughly pushing it back down, squeezing tighter. “you like it this rough?— shit, shit, you’re tightening.”

you scream, voice cracking and broken as he slams into you again, his hips grinding against yours momentarily, pelvis hitting your clit— and you’re gone, thrashing in his hold, fat tears streaming down your cheeks as you sob and heave, your body shaking uncontrollably beneath him, hips shaking as your orgasm rocks through you. it’s not a few seconds later that he’s spilling inside of you, accidentally pressing his palm down against your throat as he cums, blocking your airway momentarily.

“hngh,” he gasps deeply, cock twitching inside of you as he cums, hips barely grinding. you’re gasping, a little painfully, struggling to take in any air as he blinks dazedly, before he finally takes notice. “shit, shit, i’m sorry.”

his hand flies away from your throat, and you inhale sharply, coughing lightly as air fills your lungs all too suddenly. the strength of this man, holy fuck.

“i’m so sorry; are you okay?”

chest still heaving, you fall onto the bed, body relaxing as you try and regulate your breathing. “s’okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him, hands reaching up to pat at his cheeks and comb through his messy, sweaty hair.

he leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, and it’s so endearing that you nearly forget he’s still inside of you. but you feel the shift of his cock, feel his cum slowly start to ooze out of your cunt, and he winces from the oversensitivity, shifting away to instead pull out of you. his soft cock falls from your cunt, a steady flow of his cum following. hajime has to physically resist from reaching out to fuck it back into you.

“i’m sorry i wasn’t careful ‘nough with the—“ he makes a gesture with his hands around his neck, “—the choking.”

you laugh lightly, tiredly, hands slowly caressing at his sweaty biceps. “stop apologizing,” you reassure him again, shrugging with a small smile as you add, “just be more careful next time.”

his breath gets caught in his chest, and he only softly exhales when he falls on the bed, to your side, carefully repeating, “next time.”

from beside him, you lift yourself up on your side on your elbow, palm cradling your head, trying your best not to wince in pain. “hajime?”

he spares you a glance as he mumbles, “hm?” opting to stare at the ceiling and contemplate whether what had just happened was real life or not.

“do you wanna do a video with me?”

he all but chokes.

end note; please this took me like 4+ hours. please please please don’t flop, and more importantly, i really hope i don’t disappoint. i know this has been a long awaited piece, so i’m praying and hoping you guys love it.

love you all, mwah <3

#haikyuu smut #iwaizumi smut #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi hajime smut

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xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Nothing But a Bet - Bakugou Katsuki- pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Fluff, not spell checked

Summary: Bakugou has been so broken. Nothings been the same for him but he’s been doing everything he can to get you back...but when will it be enough to win you back?

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

“Hey..Y/N it’s me...please answer your phone.”

“Hi Princess..I saw you during your training session..you did amazing like always..take care of yourself..And I love you.”

“Hi...I was wondering if you wanted to talk about this whole thing...please?”

“Teddy Bear I’m so sorry for what happened but just please let me explain everything before you make any final decisions.”

“Y/N please come back to me.”

“...I miss you.”

Bakugou sent voicemail after voicemail, text after text, and letter after letter. He tried to call you hundreds of times in the past week but they all went straight to voicemail. He tried to reach out to you through social media but you blocked him everywhere. He was lucky that you didn’t block his number. You were both hero trainees and if an emergency were to happen, you would need every resource available and Bakugou might be one of them so you had to keep his number.

Bakugou’s been so fucked for the past week. When you left him that night, he cried into your pillow. He fell asleep in your room to have some sort of comfort that night but awoke to nobody. He looked around the room and saw the previous night’s disaster date and cried some more. He even waited a few more hours in your room before he came to the conclusion that you wouldn’t return until he left. You probably hated his guts right now and Bakugou couldn’t even be mad at you. You had every right but at least let him explain everything. Please.

“Bakugou, you can’t keep doing this every night man.” The red head said. Kirishima had been walking into the common room when he found his friend on the couch again for the 7th night in a row. Bakugou’s been doing everything he can to talk to you but you’ve always brushed him off. Even so, he still waits for you to get back from training every night just in case you would break one day and allow him to speak to you. Unfortunately, that night hasn’t come yet, and Bakugou still waits to hear your voice speak to him.

“....I’m gonna get her back,” Bakugou said as he continued to stare at the door, waiting for it to open.

“But what if she doesn’t want you anymore?” Kirishima argued.

“She does!...I know she does..she left me because I did something stupid, not because she doesn’t feel anything towards me anymore.” Bakugou took a breather as he felt tears pool into his eyes once more. He shook them off before he spoke again. “..She has to still love me...I won’t be the same if she doesn’t.”

Kirishima looked towards his friend with sad eyes as he heard the slight break in his voice. His friend really hasn’t been the same since the horrible breakup and it’s been worrying him. Getting his dream girl back is the only way to fix Bakugou Katsuki.

After a few minutes, the door opens up to reveal your beauty. You walked in to find another waiting Bakugou and watched as Kirishima left as he knew what was coming. You looked at the blonde with a nonchalant face as he ran up to you.

“Y/N! Hey! ...” he never really knew what to say after that. He was always too nervous to say anything else in fear of upsetting you. You rolled your eyes at him before you attempted to walk away but he ran in-front of you to stop you from going. “Uh..do you need help with that?”

He pointed to your workout bag but you just shook your head ‘no’ as you continued to walk but before you could get far, Bakugou spun you around to speak to you again.

“Hey! Did you know..uh, there’s this great new place that opened up. I wanted to know if you want to...um..go there sometime..maybe we could talk about what happened and-“

Before he could continue you walked away again. Bakugou grew frantic as he didn’t know what to do. This would be the 7th night in a row where you just ignore him and he doesn’t know if he could go through with more disappointment tonight. He could feel himself begin to shake as his heart grew nervous. Out of fear he grabbed onto your hand before you could get away. You didn’t turn to face him but you did allow him to continue.

“Please don’t go...please talk to me and please let me explain everything. I miss you so much Teddy Bear and I lov-“

Your body stilled for a second and you ran away to your room before he could finish that sentence. You couldn’t forgive him. Not yet. You ran with tears in your eyes as you tried to shake away the thoughts filling your heard. You left behind a crying Bakugou as he watched you run away. He didn’t even try to go after you. He knew it wouldn’t make any difference. He dropped his head and sniffled as he allowed the tears to fall. He walked his way back to his dorm and cried into his own pillow when he checked the time. 9:14. It was a school night and he had to get up early tomorrow. He would have to try again the next day. And so again, with a heavy heart, he went to bed without his Teddy Bear in his arms.

—

It was morning. Another day another sad Katsuki. The blonde rose out of bed with tired bags under his eyes. He looked horrible and anyone could see that. Shit just hasn’t been the same for him. Not without her. He got up and got dressed in his school uniform and went straight to class. He just had to see you again. The more he saw you, the more chances he got at getting you back.

Bakugou didn’t really have a plan on how to get Y/N back. He just worked and tried everything he could on the spot once he saw you. Once he sat down in his seat, he awaited for your arrival. You always came in pretty early and so the second you walked in he was up on his feet.

“Y/N! Hey!”

You watched as the blonde came up to you. You looked around and noticed there were only a few students in the room. So even though this would probably hurt you in the end, you decided to drop the silent treatment.

“.....Hi..Bakugou,” you said as you both continued to stand. You gave him a quick smile before dropping it and looking everywhere but at him. Bakugou smiled at the sound of your voice and grew excited.

“..Uh- I was wondering..if you wanted to..train after school? You know like we used to?” You looked at him with a raised brow and crossed arms. Did he really think you would wanna train with him?

“It’s just- I noticed you’re reflexes have been a little off,” at that you raised both brows at him and that’s when he panicked and began rambling, “no, no, no, no! I didn’t mean it like that! You’re great! Amazing! You always are dumbass- Y/N! I meant Y/N...yeah..yeah but the point is-“

“Okay, if I say yes will you let me go to my seat?” You quickly asked.

“YES! Ehem, mm, I mean yes. Yes, I’d like that very much and I will let you..take your...your seat...” he said awkwardly but surely. You just nodded your head slowly and walked by him. Bakugou quickly and silently celebrated behind your back but stopped once you looked at him. Seeing him all excited just to hang out with you made you laugh to yourself but you quickly shut that down as you remembered who it was you were laughing at but your smile and laughter didn’t go unnoticed by the blonde. He sat down in his seat and continued to stare at you like a happy puppy.

Soon enough, more students came into the room. The bell finally rang and Aizawa walked in to let class begin. Time went by and eventually, lunch came and you can definitely guess that Bakugou, once again, tried to get you to sit with him. This time, instead of ignoring him, you simply said “no,” and kept walking.

This of course put Bakugou into a mood but he didn’t want to be stingy. You had already agreed to train with him and you always kept to your word. He was grateful but he couldn’t hide the sadness on his face.

He and the rest of the Bakusquad sat at their table and spoke amongst each other but they of course noticed their sad friend. Now everyone knew Bakugou and Y/N had broken up but only Kirishima had known why. So questions came up and Kirishima thought it would be a wise idea for Bakugou’s other friends to help.

“What’s up with McBlasty?” Sero asked, not even earning a snarl from Bakugou at the crude nickname. “Still not over the breakup?”

“It’s not a breakup!” Bakugou countered. “It’s just...a break okay?”

“Right, cuz a break involves her giving you the cold shoulder,” Mina added on. “What happened to you guys anyway? You seemed like the perfect couple.”

Bakugou cringed at her words. They were the perfect couple. And he missed his perfect girlfriend. He looked towards Kirishima to see that he was giving him the same look he always did when it came to the Bakusquad. He wanted him to tell them the truth. Bakugou sighed as he realized it was probably time for them to know.

“Y/N left me because she found out about the bet.”

Kaminari and Sero looked at each other in shock and fear. They remember exactly what happened. They were speaking on their relationship and the bet when they heard Y/N’s door slam shut. They realized she probably heard what they had said but assumed everything would be okay! They didn’t think it would cause a breakup! But who knows!? Maybe Bakugou was speaking of a different bet.

“Umm..what bet?” Kaminari asked but Bakugou only looked at him with a confused face. How could he not remember?

“The bet we made almost a year ago. The bet that ruined my perfect relationship with the love of my life. The bet that you gave me! You know? The bet where you told me to date Y/N and not fall in love with her, which I obviously failed.” Bakugou said as he straightened up at the memory. He noticed how the two idiots remained oddly silent and how they looked like they were cowering (more than usual) at the sight of him. “Why’re you acting like that?”

The boys stayed silent before Sero spoke up. “Bakugou..we have something to tell you.”

At the tall boy’s words, the whole table gave him their attention but Kaminari only looked at him with wide eyes, hinting at him to stop what he was about to do. Sero only punched Kaminari in the shoulder as the electric blonde finally gave in.

“Bakugou,” Kaminari said, “Sero and I are the reason why Y/N found out it was a bet.”

In that moment, Bakugou’s face dropped. His eyes grew wide and silence grew around the table. Bakugou’s face went from extreme shock to extreme anger. He quickly stood up and went to attack the two boys but Kirishima was quick to hold him back.

“Let go of me!!!” Bakugou screamed.

“Bakugou! You need to relax!” Kirishima realized he wouldn’t be able to hold Bakugou back himself and called for reinforcements. “Midoriya! Todoroki!”

The two boys came running and at once glance at the situation, they knew what they had to do. Midoriya and Todoroki grabbed onto Bakugou, hooking their arms under his shoulders while Kirishima stood front. The whole scene grabbed everyone’s attention, including Y/N’s.

“This is all your fault!” Bakugou screamed with slight tears in his eyes. “I lost Y/N because of you idiots! All because you couldn’t keep your mouths shut?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Bakugou said fighting against his human restraints.

“We’re sorry! We didn’t know she heard us! It’s not like we intentionally tried to ruin you two! It was an accident!” Kaminari said behind the protection of Mina.

“I DONT GIVE A FUCK! You fucking idiots ruined everything for me!” Bakugou said as his hands began to spark. He sent an explosion their way but Y/N was quick to react and get in the middle. She used her quirk to stop his explosion and everyone settled once they saw her.

“Y/N...” Bakugou whispered out as he stopped fighting. He stood still but the three boys still kept their hold on him just in case.

“It doesn’t matter how I found out or who told me Bakugou. The only thing that matters is that you and Kaminari used me as part of a bet. Do you understand that I felt like I was just a piece of a game?” Y/N explained.

“But you’re not Y/N! You’re so much more than that!” Bakugou argued.

“So then why was I even considered to be part of that bet?” You asked. The entire room grew silent as Bakugou let his tears fall. He had no answer for you. “Right.”

You picked up your bag and walked by the group, Bakugou never taking his eyes off of you. “I’ll see you in the gym later, Bakugou.” And with that, you walked off.

Bakugou shoved the 3 boys off of him as he glared at Kaminari and Sero. The boys kept their heads down as a way of apologizing to their friend but they realized they would have to do much more than that to truly make it up to their friend. As the bell rang and everyone was dismissed, Kaminari and Sero walked out together and discussed their apology plan.

—

Bakugou had skipped out on the rest of the day. He didn’t know if he would be able to hold himself back if he saw Kaminari or Sero again. He had decided he would give himself some time to cool off before he had to meet with Y/N in the gym.

At that memory he decided it was best for him to look on the bright side. He got to train with Y/N again. It would be just like old times and who knows? Maybe she’ll finally listen to him and what he has to say. Maybe she’ll take him back. Bakugou had set an alarm for himself and in the meantime took the opportunity to rest up.

—

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep* *click!*

Bakugou woke up from his nap and looked at the time. 1:55 p.m. Just about 20 minutes for him to get ready and meet with Y/N in gym gamma. He got up, changed into a sleeveless hoodie, sweats, and some combat boots. He grabbed his gym bag and went down to find Y/N.

Just as he stepped out of the dormitory he saw Y/N walking his way. Was he still dreaming or is that actually his dream girl walking up towards him.

“Hey, Bakugou, at least wait for me to get ready.” You said while hooking both your arms. Bakugou held a shocked expression as he looked down at where you both were linked and looked back up towards you.

“Uh..H-Hey Y/N! Uh..sorry, did you want me to wait for you?” He said still shocked.

“Uhhh yeah? I won’t take that long, c’mon Blasty.” You said so naturally as you dragged him to your room. Bakugou blushed at the old nickname but smiled as he was quick to walk by your side. On the way to your dorm, he tried to make small talk and this time you actually spoke back! You laughed with him (or more so at his shaky and nervous behavior) and smiled more. He waited for you on the outside to get ready and you guys walked back to the gym. Again, on the way there you both had fun loving conversations. It was almost like nothing changed.

You both entered the gym and began stretching.

“So what exactly is the problem with my reflexes, Blasty?” You asked while stretching. Bakugou froze mid stretch as he realized he lowkey disrespected Y/N by saying her reflexes had faltered. And he didn’t even mean it! He just said it because he didn’t know what else to say.

“Umm...you know...I’m not saying that- that there’s something wrong with your reflexes. You’re perfect!” He laughed out but froze at what he said again. He snapped his head towards you and saw you paused your stretching to give him a look. “No! Not perfect! Your reflexes are perfect! You know? You’re not perfect, your reflexes are!”

Again, you gave him another look and he froze up again. “No, no, no! I mean-“

“You just wanted to get me in here with you?”

“Yup.”

“Mm,” you said as you nodded your head and continued warming up. Bakugou sighed as he dropped his head back and groaned towards the ceiling. He hated how being around you now turned him into a pile of bleh.

You guys finally began a little sparring match. Bakugou may be a mess around you but you can always be sure that he has his head in the game. You were always a calm, cool, and collected person no matter what happened so your fight style never weakened.

You and Bakugou had been going on for awhile. You threw punches, kicks, and quirks and it was 3 to 2, with you in the lead. You guys had several rounds with different rules. No quirks, quirks only, stealth matches, and even a no rules battle.

Finally, it was the last fight and you and Bakugou were clearly exhausted. Bakugou wanted to end it now due to exhaustion and so he ran towards you and pounced. You failed to stop him and just allowed him to drop you. You both ended up tumbling around until he finally pinned you down with his face close to your.

“I-.....I win...” he said with a tired but victorious grin. He stared at your face as you did that cute little nose-scrunch thing that he loved whenever he beat you.

“What-...whatever. I let you win..Blasty,” you breathed out as he just laughed at you. You began to laugh too and you both stayed there for a little until his gaze remained on yours. You both stared at each other in awe and want as Bakugou released his hold on your wrist and placed his hands on the ground at the side of your head. He leaned in a little and you allowed your hands to wrap around his neck. You pulled him in until your lips met and softly danced across each other.

Bakugou slightly opened his eyes to look down at you and smiled as he realized you finally gave in. He closed his eyes once more and just enjoyed the moment. The kiss would’ve gone on forever if the need for oxygen didn’t exist. You both separated with a hazy look in your eyes. A string of saliva connected you both as your heavy breaths grew and a blush covered across your faces.

“..heh...” was all that Bakugou said as he sat up on his knees and allowed you to sit straight. He sat down next to you as silence filled the room. “Soo...that happened..”

You remained silent as the blush on your face remained and you got lost in thought. Bakugou looked at you in concern as he thought you were regretting the kiss until you spoke up.

“...I’ve missed you Katsuki....and...I forgive you.”

Bakugou’s eyes went wide as he smiled. He stood up and brought you along with him. He picked you up and held you in his arms as he spun you around. You squealed in excitement and joy as Katsuki held you tight and once he placed you on the ground again, he gave you a quick kiss.

“I’m not saying I don’t like whats happening but...why?” He asked with a smile and confused look in his eyes. You only smiled at him and settled down before you spoke.

“..Sero and Kaminari came and talked to me. They told me everything.” Bakugou’s eyes went wide at the mention of the two morons who ruined his relationship. But he smiled as he realized they were the reason you were talking to him again. He would have to thank their dumbasses later. “They’ve been telling me how upset you’ve been and how you actually did love me.” You explained.

“Did and still do,” he corrected and you laughed at his reply.

“Right. Anyway, I’m not gonna lie, it was wrong for you to place a bet on me but..you spent almost a whole year with me..and they told me it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. I guess that means...”

“That I really do love you? That I really do want to be with you for the rest of my life? That I do need you in my life as mine to be sane? Yeah, I know.” He laughed as he wrapped him arms around your waist and held you closer while you giggled back.

“Heh..yeah.” You said. Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours as you both reveled in the comforting feeling of each other. You stayed in the loving embrace of his arms as you smiled even more.

“I’m so sorry for doing that to you, Y/N. I should’ve never placed some stupid bet on you but I’m kinda glad I did....it brought me to the perfect one for me. I really, really love you, Teddy Bear.”

Bakugou softly kissed the crown of your head as he whispered loving words to you.

“You’re mine again.”

“Yeah Suki..I’m yours.”

A/N: I’m sorry if the ending felt rushed😖 I feel like this could’ve been better but I think im reaching a writer’s block.

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strengthsapprentice · 3 years

Note

So I saw the requests open so can I request deku hawks and todoroki with a s/o who hates them selfs and always botle up there emotions and think they don't matter....sorry my English isn't very good

YES YES YES A REQUEST!! TYSM FOR SUBMITTING ONE!

Also, I see so many requests coming in from people who are diverse and I'm LIVING for it! If you think your English is bad though, please don't feel sorry for it! I enjoy anything I get in my inbox <3

----------------------

Izuku, Keigo, and Shoto comforting a self-conscious S/O who bottles up their emotions

Cw: GN reader, slight angst(?), negative thoughts

A/N: Hoping to edit some actual pictures for these instead of relying on gifs (the people who make these gifs are godsends). Should I make a masterlist soon btw?

Izuku Midoriya

When he confessed, he was baffled that you thought he was joking

Didn't you get these compliments and dating proposals all the time? I mean, you're the apple of his eye! He feels like he couldn't even start to compare to you.

It took him a bit to realize that you hated yourself. He finally got it when you told him about people in your past asking you out as a joke. When you kept explaining all what happened, it all spewed out like a bottle rocket.

Deku knows how it feels to hate yourself, and he definitely doesn't want you feeling that way!

"(L/n)?" Izuku slumped onto the floor next to his crush, watching you cry your heart out. "It's okay if you don't like me back, but please don't-" You were quick to interrupt, holding back more sniffles, "It's n-not you, Midoriya- I- I just..." Izuku gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm and ginger embrace. "I... I d-don't want you to p-prank me..." "What?" The green haired boy gave (Y/n) a confused look. "What makes you think I'm kidding?" You wiped your tears and looked up to the boy, "I had some jerks do it to me... They... They acted like they wanted a date and then dumped me as soon as I told them I liked them back..."

You assumed Izuku's silence was judgement towards them, but he was really holding himself back from his own rage. What business did they have playing with someone like that?! It's awful to do to anyone! "I'm sorry they did that to you, (L/n)... You didn't deserve that." "Yes I did, Midoriya... I don't matter anyways." At this, Izuku let go of you and stood up, walking a few feet away from (Y/n) and running his hands through his backpack.

"W-what are you-"

"I want you to have this." He placed a small trinket in your hand. Upon inspection, the trinket revealed itself as a small green dog charm. "It's... Something I got from a friend. It means I'll love you as long as time." It took a moment for it to click, but your smile was undeniable, making it hard to not cry more at his sweet gift.

"I know it's kinda cheesy, but you really are worth loving, (Y/n)."

Keigo Takami

"Excuse me? You really hate my favorite person in the world?"

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about you.

Nope. You're not allowed anymore. Anytime he catches you trying to insult yourself, he replaces it with eleven of his own compliments and a kiss

He can tell if you're holding emotions back. He KNOWS.

Something was very off today. Hawks could feel it from the way you walked and how you talked- or, how you weren't talking. When he caught you looking at the mirror with a look of disappointment and sorrow, he HAD to put an end to whatever was swirling in your mind. He lifted himself off of the couch and hugged you from behind. "What's wrong, little dove?" "Nothing, Keigo..." This had him even more concerned. Usually you would call him "my love" or another pet name. Whatever was bothering you was enough to make you cold towards even him. "Alright love, now you have to tell me what you're keeping from me."

You let out an annoyed sigh, turning away from the mirror to face Keigo. "I don't get why you like me. I look ugly, I'm not that smart, a-and..." You could feel the pressure of tears threatening to spill. "...I'm not worth your love-" Hawks was quick to cut you off with a hasty, rough kiss. When he pulled away, his usual smile was replaced with a look of concern. "I don't want to EVER hear that come from your mouth again. No one gets to insult my love bird, especially not you. You're the most beautiful person, and nothing you or anyone else says will change that. Do you understand, little dove?"

With a few stray tears falling and a light huff, you gave him a smile, "I do, my love..."

Shoto Todoroki

He knows how you feel to a T. Out of these three, he's most capable of understanding how someone acts when their bottle breaks from too many emotions

He finds that he's as open as he can be with you, and trusts that you'll vent your frustrations to him

When he sees that you're upset or doubting yourself, he offers calm suggestions instead of just rushing to help you

He'll give you space, but he reminds you that you aren't alone.

Shoto had left for the market when you sent him a quick text. You weren't asking for anything except for him to come over to your place. Whenever you felt overwhelmed, his presence made everything feel... safer. He couldn't magically make you feel better, but having him made you feel like you could actually let things off of your chest. His embrace was your heaven, and his soft kisses were medicine. As of now though, you're wrapped in a blanket so you don't have to see your own body. It's ugly to you. It's not enough. It's-

Sweet IcyHot 💖

Sent: 10:36pm

I'm here, princess. Can you open the door?

You wasted no time putting down your phone and rushing to the door, failing to put down the blanket. In Shoto's hand was a bag from the market, while the man himself was dressed casually. "(Y/n)? Is that you, or did a blanket eat my sweetheart?" While the joke itself wasn't too funny, it was enough to get a small laugh through your tears. "Come in, Sho." He placed the bag on the coffee table, revealing chocolates, snack food, and a few fruits as well. "I know I usually would get you something healthier, but I figured I would get you something that felt better instead." He smiled and pulled you into an embrace, pulling back the blanket to get a good sniff of you. Even without self care for a day you smelled as good as ever.

"Now, why don't you make yourself comfortable again on the couch? I'll pick us out a movie for us to cuddle to." "Sho, you're the best boyfriend I could ask for..." He placed a kiss on your forehead. "And you're the greatest person I could have ever hoped for."

#mha x reader #mha #bnha #mha x reader headcanons #mha headcanons #mha deku #deku x reader #izuku x reader #midoriya izuku #midoriya x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki #todoroki x reader #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo tamaki #tamaki x reader

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obeymematches · 3 years

Note

hi can i request for a hcs of the demon reacting to mc/reader speaking in their native language??

hi, sure! thank you for sending in a request <3

short personal story because this request made me think of that moment- so anyways i was working at a foreign country w ppl from many countries but only 2 of us had the same native language & my friend used to date this guy, right. anyways one time me and this friend got into a heated conversation & switched to our native language in his presence. about five minutes in he stops us with the most serious expression i’ve ever seen on him & he just goes “do you guys actually understand any of this or do you just pretend??” idk it was funny

Prologue/Setting;

It is a Tuesday afternoon at the House of Lamentation / Castle. Today you managed to get in contact with your friends / siblings / family for the first time since you were in the Devildom. You were told it is going to be a rare occassion, so you made the most out of it - you were in a call with them for the past three hours. It was a miracle how your time was not interrupted. Soon after your call ended, you hear a knock on your door. Without further ado it opens, revealing the demon seeking your attention. How long had he been waiting??!

He steps in and asks you what you’d like to have for dinner as tonight the family orders from Hell’s Kitchen.

You give an incomprehensive answer in your native language of a very specific item on the menu, including what condiment you prefer and the size of your meal.

Lucifer: He always knew you were bilingual as sometimes you couldn’t find the proper words, but he never heard you talk in your native language so bluntly to him. “I take the quality of your call was excellent, I’m glad. Could you repeat your order? I do not speak your language” Lucifer is proud of your language knowledge and absolutely finds it adorable how your mind didn’t pick up on the sitation. How could he blame you? Definitely teasing you later though.

Mammon: He picked up some words of your native language after you taught him a little. Occassionally you use your native language when you answer yes/no questions - which is how much he understands of your language at this point (and some curse words). However, this was different. Did you say you wanted ketchup? Or did that refer to the size of the meal? “Human you are talking to me! Stop kidding, I’m hungry!”

Leviathan: He... he just wanted to know what you wanted for dinner. Has no idea what you said. It could have been about how much you hate him, from what he understood of it. He will never know. Stares at you, blinking for a hot second, then asks you to repeat it. He thinks you sound cute when you speak like that, but it is also concerning as he has no clue what he just heard.

Satan: He has some linguistic knowledge and you had a conversation about it before. Fascinated to learn about it and he asked you to teach him some before. It is a turn-on to talk to him like that. There is so much he doesn’t know yet. He replies with “I do not know / understand” in your native language, which you taught him before.

Asmodeus: Listen when he learned that you speak another language, he immediately wanted to know how to say “I love you” and “I hate you” in your native language. To him it was adorable to hear you speak like that, but honestly he is very confused and didn’t process anything of what he just heard. Please repeat it to him:( Insist on how hot you sounded though.

Beelzebub: Okay he knows food but he didn’t recognize anything besides ketchup and burger. He assumes you wanted fries too? Doesn’t say anything, he just stares at you as he is processing the information. Right when he opens his mouth to ask you to repeat yourself, you became self-aware enough for the situation.

Belphegor: Is he going crazy ? He didn’t understand anything of what he just heard yet you said it so naturally. After a confused second he kindly asks you to repeat yourself in a language he understands too. Late he asks you to talk to him in your native language, tell him a bed-time story or something. Would love to fall asleep listening to that! He also wants to learn how to curse in your language.

At The Caslte;

Diavolo: He is taken by surprise but he knows you well enough to assume it wasn’t a curse spell. The situation makes him even more curious about humans and how the brain works. Makes you promise to teach him later. He makes a very excited learner, and comments on how smart you are and how proud he is!

Barbatos: Freezes for a second, but keeps up a polite smile. He doesn’t really make a big deal out of it, but he does appreciate your knowledge. Very polite when he asks you to repeat your order. He is definitely teasing you about it later though.

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golbrocklovely · 3 years

Text

remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

A/N: as i mentioned before in a different post, this took me FOREVER to write. i loved writing this story but something about it just made me drag it out for so long. nonetheless, i love this and i'm excited to see what you all think. please lmk what you thought about this. thank you to everyone that has supported me and sent me kind messages. yall are the best ! hope you enjoy :) also lmk if you want another part...

prompt: she's the only one that remembers colby, or so they both thought.

trigger warning: ANGST, heartbreak, AU mention, friendship problems, cursing, happy-ish ending (but not the end...?), kissing

word count: 5526

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

Colby was relieved that the waitress, the only one that remembered him, decided to help. The moment she agreed, Colby gave her his number and left. She texted him not too long after, and he realized for a moment she never said her name. He planned to ask her the next day when they decided to meet up at his place.

It was weird to come back to his apartment, knowing that down the hall his best friend, his brother, lived there and didn't know who he was. Usually when Colby felt lonely, he would walk down the hall to Sam's and hang out for a bit. It was always nice to talk to Sam about anything and everything.

But now... he couldn't do that.

Colby tried to sleep during the night, but barely any rest came from it. He tossed and turned, hoping that when he would wake up, this would all just be some weird-ass nightmare.

When his cell phone rang the next morning at 9:34 A.M., it was an unfamiliar ringtone. As he rubbed his eyes awake, he glanced at the caller, the name 'Waitress' appearing on his screen.

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

"Yeah?" Colby groaned, squinting his eyes at the sunlight.

Her voice came through cheery, the tone too loud in Colby’s ears. “Let me up to your apartment. I'm here.”

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

“I figured you would want your normal life back as soon as possible, yeah?” She sassed.

He rolled his eyes. “Alright, give me a second. I'll come down and get you.”

Colby stumbled out of bed, running his fingers through his hair as he threw on a random shirt and jeans, slowly trudging down to the lobby of his apartment. She sat on a couch, tapping her foot against the carpeted floors. Her eyes were staring out the door, almost like she was looking at someone. When she heard Colby’s footsteps, her gaze pulled away from outside.

“Did I wake you?” She frowned, grabbing her bag next to her and standing up.

He shook his head. “You can't really be woken up if you barely slept.”

“I'm sorry to hear that.” She lightly bit her lip, following Colby to the elevator.

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

They both slowly got into the elevator, climbing up to Colby's floor. The loud 'ding' of the elevator broke their silence moments later. They walked to Colby's apartment, and he unlocked his door quickly.

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

A half smile spread across Colby’s face. “Thanks.”

“No offense, but how do you pay for this place if you're not a social media person?” She questioned, stepping into the kitchen.

He raised an eyebrow. “That's... a good question. From what my mom told me over the phone yesterday, I worked all throughout high school and college, so maybe it's from that?”

“You only worked at Dairy Queen while you were in high school. You must have gotten a better job in college because there is no way you can afford this place.” She disagreed.

Colby smirked. “How'd you know I worked at Dairy Queen?”

“Well, for starters, my friend told me. And also, I did some research about you. But I'll get to that in a second.” She continued, her voice falling to a serious tone, “So... would you like to hear my theories?”

“Theories?” He puzzled.

“As to why everyone forgot about you.” The waitress explained.

Colby sat down on his barstool, exhaling. “Let's hear it.”

“Okay. For argument sakes, you're gonna have to just go with me on this. Because otherwise, I literally have no way to help you.” She started, already pacing slightly.

He cautioned. “...okay?”

“So last night, I tried to think of a reason why everyone would collectively forget about you. And the only conclusion I could come up with is that you're in an alternative universe.” She hypothesized.

Colby’s eyes widened, bugging out of his head. “A what?”

“An alternative universe. Basically, everything is pretty much the same in your life, except a few minor details,” she revealed. “That’s why you still live in this apartment, but you didn’t get here the same way you did in your other life, your real life.”

“This... it's way too early for this.” He grumbled, astonished.

She sighed, her hands resting on her hips. “The only other option is that this is a very long-winded prank that your friends are still pulling on you. Have you tried talking to any of your other friends besides Sam?”

“No, everyone else’s number is gone in my phone, which I can only assume means they don’t know me either.” Colby retorted. Then he took a deep breath as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “But, this doesn't make sense. How did I end up here if this isn't my life?”

“I’m not sure how you got here, but I think you’re here for a specific reason. I think you’re here to right a wrong that this Colby Brock did. I’m just… not entirely sure what that wrong might be.” She answered, unsure.

He huffed. “Okay… what am I supposed to do then? Stay here and hope we figure that out soon? I don't even know who I am in this universe.”

“And that's where my research comes into play.” She pulled a laptop from her bag quickly, placing it down on the counter and opening it. She scrolled through her browsers until she came across Colby's Facebook, which surprisingly looked active for someone who hadn't been personally on it in years.

I use Facebook? Gross.

“First, I started by seeing if you and Sam were friends on here, but that didn’t amount to much since Sam doesn’t have a Facebook. However, what I found out is that you and Sam did live in the same town, go to the same high school, and played in the same marching band. Sam talked about his early years before he was ‘famous’ in one of the first videos he posted, and I crossed referenced that with your profile and it all matches up.” She informed.

“That's strange,” he mumbled. “What did we do after high school?”

She stated. “You went off to college and majored in Business Management with a minor in Philosophy. You graduated early too.”

Me? Graduating early? I couldn’t even get through math without Sam’s help.

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

The waitress scrolled to another tab, opening it to show a search of Sam. “Well, a very quick Google search shows that he actually went to the same college as you but dropped out once his Vine career started to pick up. Then he went on to Musical.ly when Vine died. He moved out to LA in 2017 and started a YouTube channel after he met Katrina, and slowly met all of his- your, friends that way. He got a bump of followers once he started dating Kat because of her following.”

Colby’s mouth gaped at her words. “That can't be true. He would have never wanted that. I mean, I had to convince him that we should be on social media so that we could spread our message. Plus, he hates those channels that use their relationship for views.”

“Not this version of Sam. Or at least, it doesn't seem like it.” She commented.

He covered his face, groaning into his hands. “What the hell am I here for? What wrong have I done in this universe?”

Her voice low, she replied. “I think it might have to do with Sam.”

“But... he doesn't know me.” He dissented, sitting up.

She nodded. “I thought so too. However, after scrolling through all of your public photos, I found this.”

Colby squinted at the screen, an old photo of him and Sam stared back. They looked super young, probably sophomores in high school. They were both smiling, laughing at something. He vaguely remembered this day.

“So, we did know each other.” He bit his lip softly.

She hummed. “Yeah. And weirdly, it’s the only photo of the two of you on your profile. But it’s not the only strange thing.”

Scrolling to a different tab, she pulled up an old tweet of Sam’s. It read ‘Never thought you would be the one to hurt me. But I guess everyone can be surprising.’

Colby noted the date. “That was back in high school.”

“Yeah, and there’s a bunch like them. He talks about being betrayed and someone hurting him deeply. He never mentions, of course. But his tweets line up with some that you were tweeting at the same time.” She confessed.

The waitress clicked on a different tab and another tweet showed up, one from Colby’s account. He gazed at it, reading the words ‘If you hate me… imagine how I feel about myself.’

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

“You don’t tweet that often, but when you do, you talk about righting wrongs and fixing things you fucked up.” She added, “You also hate on yourself a lot.”

He doubted, crossing his arms. “You think they’re connected?”

“I do. I think in this universe you fucked up somehow and hurt Sam. And I think you are here now to fix what the other you did.” She explained.

He ranted. “This is all so fucked! When I saw him yesterday, he acted like he didn’t even know me. How am I supposed to even go about this? What, do I just go down the hall and apologize for something I don’t even remember doing?”

“No. Sam's not in his apartment anyway. I saw him leave while I was waiting for you.” She mentioned nonchalantly.

He grunted. “Great, he could be anywhere in LA right now.”

“I know exactly where he is.” She smirked.

“What? How?” He questioned.

The waitress divulged. “This version of Sam has a favorite restaurant he goes to all the time. A lot of his fans know about it, thus one look through any of his fan accounts and you'll see it. It's called ‘Paradise’.”

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

She pouted. “It's not. But he goes there all the time, and I got us a table there last minute.”

“What exactly are we gonna do when we get there?” He crossed his arms.

“I was planning on going up to his table and talking to him, maybe asking him about you, see how he reacts.” She described.

Colby furrowed his brow, confused. “And what about me?”

She slid her laptop into her bag, zipping it up hastily. “Well… I didn’t really think that far ahead. But hopefully, whatever you did is forgivable, and we can just fix it right there.”

He murmured. “That's a lot to hope for.”

“It's better than sitting here and wasting daylight.” She grabbed her stuff and headed for the door. Colby followed suit, grabbing his keys.

He spoke as he locked his door. “What if this doesn’t work?”

She turned back to him. “It will. It has to.”

~~~

Paradise was a themed restaurant, which Colby thought was strange because his Sam never really liked those types of restaurants. The theme was nice, however, tropical and Hawaiian. It felt like something he, Sam, and a few friends would have gone to after a fun, drunk night.

As Colby and the waitress were escorted to their table, they both kept an eye out for Sam, glancing around nervously for the blonde boy.

“I think the worst thing about this universe version of me is how messy my car is,” Colby joked. “It’s like I live out of it.”

She shrugged, smiling. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“You should see my real car. My honey wagon is spotless.” He expressed, waving his hand.

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

“Long story,” he chuckled. Then abruptly, he gasped. “Holy shit, I just realized I never got your name.”

She cocked her head. “What? I never told you?”

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

“Hi, I'm Tony, I'll be your server for today. Can I get you something to drink to start you guys off?” Tony greeted, cutting her off.

“Yeah, sure. A water for me.” She blurted out.

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

Once Tony left, the waitress started scoping out for Sam again, her eyes widening once she saw him.

Her body stiffened, turning back to Colby. “He's over there, three tables down to your left.”

Colby gazed over his shoulder at his friend. Sam looked lost in thought, staring at his phone as he ate his food.

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

“From some of the blogs I read, he likes to go out and eat by himself. Also, apparently, him and Kat are on the rocks.” She admitted.

“They love each other so much, it's kinda gross to be around them sometimes,” He quipped, but shook his head. “So to hear that...”

“I'm gonna head over.” She announced quickly.

Before he could speak, she left the booth. Colby watched her walk over to Sam, listening closely to their conversation as he ducked his head down.

“Hey... sorry to bother you, but are you Sam Golbach?” She asked sweetly.

“Yeah I am. Did you want something?” Sam stared blankly at her.

“Um, yeah?” She almost scoffed at his tone. “I’m a huge fan and I know this might be a weird question, but do you know someone named Colby Brock?”

Sam’s face remained stoic, but his eyes intensified. “No, I've never heard of that name before.”

“Are you sure, because I'm pretty certain that you and him are best friends.” She insisted.

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

Colby watched nervously as she pulled out her phone and showed Sam the photo. Sam scrunched up his face, his eyes scanning the image. “Yeah, no. Still don’t know who he is. What was his name again?”

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

“...Sorry. I’ve never heard a name like that before.” He mumbled, almost inaudibly. “Sounds stupid anyway.”

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

Colby clenched his fist, unable to hear this conversation any longer. He needed to come face-to-face with Sam. He slid out of his seat, walking hastily over to Sam and the waitress. Sam’s eyes narrowed as he gaped at Colby.

“Sam…” Colby started.

Sam growled. “Are you fucking serious, Colby? Did you really have to get one of my fans involved?”

“What?” Colby puzzled.

Sam jumped out of his seat, grabbing Colby’s arm and pulling him out of the restaurant. The waitress followed behind them, confused just as much as Colby. Sam’s feet stopped behind the back door of the building, turning to Colby without warning.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Sam barked.

Colby stepped back, surprised by Sam’s anger. “...Uh, I don’t know what you mean by that.”

Sam scoffed. “Why the fuck are you here? After all this time?”

“So, you do remember me.” Colby remarked.

“Yeah, I do. When you showed up at my place yesterday, it took me a minute to realize it was you, since you decided to dress up like a Hot Topic employee, but yeah, I knew it was you. Are you really gonna pretend in front of her that we don’t know each other?” Sam teared his eyes away from Colby’s, staring at the waitress suddenly. “Let me guess, he hasn’t told you the whole story, right?”

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

Sam chuckled darkly. “Of course not. If he told the whole story, he would have to admit he was an asshole, and God knows he’s not gonna do that.”

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

“Do you not remember? Well, I’ll give you a refresher. You and I became friends freshman year of high school. You were my best friend and I was yours. I trusted you. I trusted you with a lot of shit that I’ve never told anyone. Senior year of high school, right before we were about to graduate, right as we were starting a social media career, suddenly you don’t want anything to do with me; which would have been bad enough, but then I go and find out you and my girlfriend were hooking up behind my back,” Sam snapped, catching his breath for a moment. “So yeah, I remember you, Colby.”

Colby’s mouth fell open, his breathing speeding up.

None of this sounds like me. I would never hurt Sam like that.

“And now, you have the fucking audacity to show up when everything in my life is going great and I’m succeeding. I have fans, friends, and a girlfriend that all love and care about me, and you’re here trying to what? Stir up drama? Get some clout from me?” He demanded.

“If your friends and girlfriend love you, why are you eating all alone?” The waitress jeered.

Sam glared at her, biting his tongue. “And you made one of my fans hate me. Dope, dude.”

“Sam, look; I’m sorry for what I did. But that was years ago. I’m not who I was back then.” Colby choked out.

“I don’t care. I don’t want you in my life. Do you not understand what you did to me?” Sam persisted.

“I know I was an asshole, and I apologize for ever hurting you like that. But I miss you, and I want to work things out. Let me prove to you that I’m better.” He trembled, getting closer to Sam.

Sam backed up, blocking Colby. “No. No! You don’t get to miss me. You don’t get to miss a relationship you fucked up. It took me years to trust again. Hell, I’m still going through it. You don’t get to decide whether or not you’re in my life. Not anymore.”

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

“Don’t show up at my place again. Don’t talk to my fans about me. Don’t act like you care about me. Because I’m done,” Sam stared into Colby’s eyes before going back into the restaurant. “I don’t care about you. Fuck off forever and leave me alone.”

Sam’s words punched Colby hard, taking the breath out of him instantly. He caught himself against the wall, his legs turning to gelatin under his weight.

He stuttered. “I… gotta leave. I-I have to…”

“Colby, relax. It’s gonna be okay.” She grabbed his hand.

He shook off her embrace. “What? No it’s not! Did you not hear what he said? Why would he want to be friends with a piece of shit like me?!”

“You were eighteen when this all happened. Give yourself a break.” She argued.

“No. I’m fucking terrible. This version of me is terrible. Of course he doesn’t want to be friends with me! I don’t even want to be me.” His voice quivered with anger, his body racing away from her.

She furrowed her brows, trying to keep up with him. “Where are you going?”

“I just need to leave. I can’t be here right now!” He grunted, his pace picking up.

She called after him, but Colby didn’t care. His heart slammed against his chest over and over again. Tears weld up into his eyes, blurring his vision as he began to run. He wanted to keep running until his legs gave out, until he couldn’t remember all the words Sam had said to him.

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

He wasn’t just stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t know him.

He was stuck in a universe where Sam didn’t want to know him.

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

Colby must have blacked out while he ran, somehow maintaining to stay upright, because once his thoughts started to subside, and his body basically gave out under him, he noticed he was in a part of LA he had never been before. Some random neighborhood that was unfamiliar.

He shoved his body up against a metal telephone pole, sliding down to the ground. He tried catching his breath, gulping back breaths as he forced down the nausea overwhelming his senses. He wiped his face with his sleeve, feeling more tears rush down his cheeks.

His throat and chest burned with each sharp inhale. He whimpered into his hands, covering his face from the slowly retreating sun.

He slid his phone out of his pocket once he caught his breath, calling the only number he knew.

“Hey honey. What’s up?” His mom’s voice rang back sweetly.

Colby’s voice was monotone, exhausted. “You know who Sam is, don’t you?”

The line went quiet for a moment, all Colby could hear was her light breath.

“You told me not to talk about him. After you two stopped being friends, you said you never wanted to hear his name again.” She exhaled deeply, “I was taken aback when you asked about him yesterday.”

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

She gasped lightly. “Did you run into him?”

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

“Oh, Colby. I’m so sorry.” His mother consoled.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about, mama. I just…” Colby trailed off, unable to explain.

“Why don’t you come home this weekend?” She offered. “I miss you, you know.”

“I would love to. But…” His chest heaved as hot tears drifted down his cheeks. “That’s not my home.”

“Nonsense. You will always have a home here.” She assured him, her voice almost trembling.

He wiped a fallen tear, a broken smile coming to his face. “That’s good to know. I love you.”

She hummed. “I love you too, baby. Call me again soon.”

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

The sky was getting darker and darker, and Colby remained against the phone pole. He didn’t know how much time had passed, but suddenly his phone vibrated, a new message from ‘Waitress’ asking where he was. He sent his location, and she arrived twenty minutes later in his car. He stood up, stumbling to his passenger door. His legs were weak from the sprinting he had just done. As he got in, the cool AC blasted the sweat and tears off his face.

They didn’t speak, a quiet radio station playing in the background the only sound. She drove through the hills of LA, eventually hitting a peak. She parked the car as it overlooked LA, the lights looking like stars on the horizon.

She got out a minute later, walking over to the hood and leaning against it. He could see something in her hand but didn’t recognize it. Colby sat in the car by himself, not able to physically move his body from how exhausted he felt. Eventually, he achingly stepped out of the car, sitting next to her on the hood.

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

“Please don’t try to make me feel better. I know you mean well, but I am fucked,” he rebutted, his voice dark. “I’m stuck here, in this universe, where Sam hates me. And as if that weren’t bad enough, I did terrible things, things I know I would never do to him. How the fuck am I supposed to apologize for those mistakes? I wouldn’t take him back if the roles were reversed.”

“Read this.” The waitress stated, handing him a journal.

He glanced down at the leather-bound book, slightly faded from years of writing. He unclicked the lock and opened it, looking down at the pages. It was his, a journal full of writings he had done.

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

“You were right about your car being messy. But you’d be surprised what you fine if you just look.” She teased.

Colby read over the words, the first entry catching his eye. It was dated a year after him and Sam had graduated high school.

Sam is succeeding without me. I knew he would. He was always so smart when it came to business decisions. He just hit 10k followers on Vine. That’s crazy!

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

She answered quickly. “This whole journal was you keeping up with Sam without him knowing. This version of you always paid attention to what he was doing, even if you guys were no longer friends.”

“I’m obsessed with Sam? That’s great.” He deadpanned.

“You’re not obsessed with Sam. Read this entry.” She skipped a handful of pages, finally stopping on one and showing it to him.

I hate myself everyday for the hurt I caused Sam. I can’t believe what an idiot I was back when I was 18. We could have gone so far together… but I had to go and fuck it up.

He scowled. “Am I supposed to be sad for myself?”

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

The night I chose to never speak to Sam again, I knew I made the wrong decision. But I had to. Sam was ready to go on and do bigger and better things. I was just gonna hold him back. I was terrified of failing, not only myself, but him. He deserves success. That’s why I had to ignore him. I have never been as smart as him. I would have ruined our chances of doing something great. And I have been proven right by how far he has gone without me.

“You stopped being his friend because you were scared, not because you didn’t care anymore.” She repeated.

He slid off the car, scoffing. “So what if I was scared to fail? Sam didn’t deserve the hurt I caused just because of that. And what about me cheating with his girlfriend?”

She jumped off the car, striding up to Colby. She grabbed the journal from his hand. “You didn’t cheat, look.”

She pointed at the bottom of the page, his eyes following her finger.

“Me and Lexi were never together! I hate her for telling him that. One night, they had a really big fight and she came over to my house to ask what she should do. I told her to break up with him if she really didn’t care anymore. And then she tried to hit on me. I told her off and threatened to tell Sam, but she got to him first. She must have told him her and I were together.” The waitress read aloud.

“Wait, if I never hooked up with his girlfriend, why wouldn’t I tell him that?” Colby hissed.

“I think at that point, you wanted the friendship to be over, and I think this solidified it.” The waitress responded.

“All this time I could have been friends with Sam, but I ruined it because I was scared? What a fucking idiot.” He spat.

“You weren’t an idiot,” She interjected. “You just disliked yourself so much you didn’t think you deserved happiness. At least now you know that this version of you isn’t as terrible as you thought.”

“Even with that being the case, Sam’s never gonna accept my apology. Why should he?” Colby lamented, “I let him down the worst ways. I broke his trust and loyalty.”

She shook her head, stepping towards him. “Give him some time. You might be surprised."

Before Colby could speak, his phone rang. He took his phone out of his pocket and looked at the number. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

“Hello?” He answered.

“Did you really mean it when you said you were sorry?” Sam spoke, his tone hesitant, but dry.

His breath hitched at the sound of Sam’s voice. “Of course. I never meant to hurt you, Sam.”

Sam paused for a moment, before breathing out. “I’m giving you one more chance. Tomorrow. Come by my place. You apparently know where I live.”

“Yeah,” Colby laughed awkwardly. “I’ll come by. Thank you… Sam.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’ll see you later.” Sam stated, hanging up.

Once the call ended, Colby’s eyes stared down at his phone widely. He almost couldn’t believe that happened.

He inhaled sharply. “Sam just called me. He wants to meet me tomorrow.”

“That’s great.” Her voice just above a whisper.

“He wants to hear me out… he wants to give me another chance.” His face dropped with confusion. “How did he get my number?”

It hit Colby like a brick as he gazed up at the waitress, who bit her lip hiding her smile. “You…?”

“You weren’t the first person I showed the journal to,” she explained. “When you ran off, I was gonna go after you. As I got in your car, I saw this journal sticking out from under your seat. I read through it and… I knew I had to show Sam. I went back in and talked to him for an hour, showing him how much you were actually sorry. How much you had beat yourself up over hurting him. And then I gave him your number. I wasn’t sure if he was gonna call but-”

“Oh my God, you’re amazing!” Colby ran up to her, grabbing her by the waist and spinning her around. She gripped his shoulders tightly as they spun, laughing loudly into his ear. As her feet touched the ground, he stared into her eyes, his smile the brightest she had ever seen it. His hands glided up her body to her face, cupping her cheeks quickly. He smashed his lips against hers, his heart pounding as he did. Her hands lowered to his chest, her grasp on his shirt tightened as she felt herself lose her footing and back up into the car.

As they stumbled, he realized what he was doing, pulling away quickly. “Shit… I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” She giggled. “I’m just… surprised.”

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

<< |

#colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock story #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #sam golbach #sam and colby

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product05 · 2 years

Text

My thoughts/reaction while watching The Owl House S2 Ep12 "Elsewhere and Elsewhen"

I didn't made one for the previous episode because I'm lazy lol, but now here we are! (Forgive my grammar in advance)

STEVE

Luz's face when she heard Lilith mentioned snake horses is so cute! "Snorses"

Lilith will always be Lilith.

I was wondering why and how did Phillip have companions in his journey to find the Collector after the incident in Eclipse Lake. But then it was revealed at the end that it was Luz and Lilith.

"What kind of jerk puts "The" in front of their name anyway?" LMAO

Cool Aunt Lilith lesssssgooooo

"Stupid rock!" You mean, your head Lilith? lol

"Am I broken?" -Lilith Clawthorne 2022

I love Lilith in this episode!

Clawthornes are known for palisman-making!!!

Wow, Belos did wrecked boiling isles.

"He looks more scrawnier than I imagined."

Luz...you're telling Phillip...a story on why you're seeking the collector...is he going to believe it? (Spoilers: No)

Lilith is proud of Luz, you can see it in her face.

ATTITUDE

So Phillip didn't know about the light glyph, but because of Luz, he learned it.

The titan really said "I hate you." to Phillip lol (Phillip said that it seems like the world is keeping the glyphs away from him or something.)

So, is Hunter talking about the glyphs when he said that the glyphs Luz is using are similar to the ones used during the savage ages? Did he knew about it because of Belos?

This episode is giving me that time travel episode of Gravity Falls vibes (that one time they time traveled back to young Soos' birthday)

So Phillip was able to write some of his journal/diary's content because of Luz and Lilith.

Bro, using teleport manually must be so exhausting. You have to make those circles! CIRCLES!! SO MANY CIRCLES!!!

Eda's impression of Lilith LMAO

"Perhaps we were destined to meet." Yeah...Time Paradox my dude.

Lilith just knew manipulators huh? Talking about experience with Belos.

Did Phillip seriously just started writing that his companions are dead? Before Lilith had opened the door?? Assuming they will die???

Jokes on him, Luz battled older him and didn't die Lmao

"Hey! That better be your own grave you're digging!" LMAOJEKSIEJEBJDJSSM

Lilith just knew that if something bad happens to Luz she will be dead lol

Lilith just literally punched Belos on his face! No no. She broke his nose!! Ha!!!

I saw a portrait of a tower with the owl house's eye window earlier this episode. Is that Dell's tower? Is the owl house Dell's tower??

I thought Eda just scarred his father's eye, but also his hands.

Dell and Eda carved Owlbert together? Awwwwwwww

I never thought I'd like Luz and Lilith duo this much lmao

More of those nerds please!

This episode: Confirmed Phillip is Belos. Me: (Why am I gasping? I already knew that meme)

So Belos is already making a grimwalker back when he's still Phillip. And he already have that white cloak, and using palismen as...drugs...

Hold on are those corpses!???

"WilD mAgiC DiD tHIs tO mE." Yeah right, you did that to yourself. No one told you to make tattoos of those glyphs.

So, Phillip didn't need the collector for the portal, but needed it for something else...

The collector, trapped the owl beast into a scroll but the show didn't tell why yet...

But he did said that he needs to live long enough to see "this" through, and that the collector might help him.

So did he lived longer than he should because of the collector?

Why tattoo a glyph pattern onto his arm?

WHAT?

Also, Phillip did successfully created a portal door (or did he?). Belos knew there's a portal door since he's the one who made it. But why lost it at the first place? He needed it for his plans and yet, he lost it.

It seems like he no longer want to go back home, but instead, he wanted to bring "home" to the isles.

WHAT??

Also, I saw a post about what Terra said to Luz about Belos looking forward to meeting her, and that he's probably talking about the time travel that occured in this episode. Mind Blown!!!

So Belos probably recognized Luz and Lilith! Wonder how it feels to know that the person who literally broke your nose is part of your coven lmao.

Another also that I forgot to add, I saw an animation error where Phillip's left eyebrow is not colored lol.

#imma go now for amphibia lmao #i just have questions no answers sorry lol #byeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee #the owl house #toh #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers #elsewhere and elsewhen

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bastillia · 3 years

Text

Loyalties Lie

AO3 Mirror

Summary: You're a bartender in a Lothal cantina, living a quiet life in the Outer Rim after the fall of the Empire. You can't help but wonder what more might be out there for you. One dangerous guest in particular keeps catching your eye. Unfortunately, you've also caught his.

Rating: E

Words: 6.1k

Warnings: possibly mild dubcon, threats with a weapon, rough sex, verbal degradation, mentions of alcohol, cumplay, Boba Fett has a 24oz monster can dick and he knows how to use it.

A/N: Remember when I said I had a Boba Fett WIP laying around like, months ago? Well guess who showed up in Mando S2 with a sexy dad bod and the fattest dick in the galaxy to overhaul my dreams and make them a reality. Fuck me. Yes this is the first thing I’ve written in months hi I’m still here. No I don’t know how many chapters this will be. I live in hell. Welcome. Thank you to @kylorengarbagedump for graciously beta reading and listening to me literally scream about this man all the time. Love y’all so much PLEASE ENJOY.

It’s the kind of night that hums.

Like a moonlit Lothal prairie, quiet and alive somewhere beyond the outskirts of town. Except that in here, the crickets swoop past your bar to buy shots, and the stars fall steadily to become the lovely tink of credits in your tip jar. The twin moons are shifting hues of neon light, and time seems to stroll by, like it has nowhere better to be.

Tonight has been steady.

It’s not busy enough tonight to challenge you, but not slow enough to let you rest. Your guard is up, as it always is when you’re behind the bar. But your hold on it can afford to be loose.

Tonight has been…

Boring.

No brawls, no assassinations, not even a drunken paw fumbling across the bar towards your tits, attached to some overly rowdy patron who you then get to watch with quiet glee as they’re dragged out by the ears. No, in fact, it’s hard to remember the last time something remotely interesting happened around here. So much for the Outer Rim’s rugged reputation. You hate to say you miss the Empire’s occupation from time to time. But at least it brought nightly intrigue.

Tonight, your guests are especially calm and happy, lulled by liquor and the easy flow of conversation, murmurs blending like a stream through the grassland. And you suppose you shouldn’t complain. You’ve more than earned your keep for the night, and then some. Best of all, your boss has no reason to be breathing down your neck.

In fact, he’s happy, too, you note when the Lasat’s bellowing business-laugh resounds overtop a few flutes of spotchka, glowing inside a booth across the room. You pass a cloth around the rim of a clean glass, feeling a tickle of interest as to who he might be schmoozing this time. When you glance up, you can just make out a pair of well-dressed Rodians seated across from him through the leisure-thick air of the cantina, nudging each other and laughing at whatever witty, schmoozy thing he just said.

A soft snort puffs through your nose. At least Dakk is a predictable man, if nothing else. Must be rich folk, probably well connected. Good. You’ll get no help tonight, but at least he will be occupied for a while.

In fact...

Flicking a quick glance around the room, you take your chance and shrug your outer tunic off your shoulders, quickly smoothing down your much more revealing undershirt until it clings to the shape of you. You know Dakk hates when you do this, always goes on about keeping the place “classy.” But he’s not looking, and if it puts a few extra credits in your jar by the end of the night, it’s worth it. Anyway, you’re in a good mood tonight. Bored nonetheless, and the combination always forges a mischievous kind of boldness in you; a tiny spark that glows just bright enough to cast the idea of consequence in shadow.

You scan the bar for an empty drink, a flirtatious urge rolling off of your freshly bared skin and filling your ribs with air. It’s not long before you hone on your target-- an unsuspecting guest sitting alone, head turned away. Probably eavesdropping. A smirk curves your lips and you sidle over, plink a glass down between you, leaning your elbows on the bartop.

“Something else for you, sugar?”

His head whips around with a guilty swiftness, but you just offer an easy smile, shifting your weight through your hips to coax his eyes down your body. It works like a charm.

“I, uh...“ The young Mirialan stammers directly at your tits. “Yeah, c-can I, ah…”

As you wait out his struggle, an idea sparks in your freshly emboldened mind. Maker’s sake, might as well help the poor thing out.

“Got a ruge liqueur in stock, last shipment off Alderaan. Rare these days.” Your lashes flutter, tongue just barely playing your along your lower lip as if teasing some unspoken promise. “I just couldn’t help but notice, you seem like a person of exceptional taste.”

The words are warm summer air on your tongue, practiced and enticing. You can see them go to the kid’s head like spice smoke, his cheeks immediately flushing deep emerald beneath diamond-shaped tattoos.

“Y-yeah?” He straightens, runs a hand through his hair, grinning sheepishly. “I mean...yeah! I, uh, I am. That s-sounds great, yeah. Um. Please.”

You smile. Too easy.

Now, it’s not technically a lie. You do have the ruge in stock, it’s just that--well, it’s definitely nothing this kid can afford. But you’d bet a week’s worth of tips that you can slip him a cheap offworld varietal instead. Charge him triple its price, pocket the excess. Poor thing wouldn’t know the real stuff if it bit him.

You swell with the thought. That amount might even let you buy something nice for yourself for once. It might be a little slimy, but... fuck it. Kid seems well off enough. Decently nice clothes, cologne, that misplaced air of belonging that comes with sheltered entitlement. Surely he won’t miss a few extra credits. Anyway, you deserve this, right?

Moving to speak again, you prepare to lay the flirting on thick, really sell the gambit. But before you get the chance, a loud bang snaps your attention upward just in time to see the cantina door slam open.

You straighten where you stand, irritation and curiosity pricking your ears in equal measure. But then a slight hush cuts the ease of your buzzing meadow, and your chest squeezes with it.

Boba Fett.

The hunter takes up almost the whole doorway, a broad tower of matte green beskar catching the soft neons of the cantina. The distinctly cold gaze of the Mandalorian helmet scans the room, stirring murmurs and averting eyes until it comes to rest, finally, upon you.

It feels like two cold weights set down on your shoulders, being the focus of that stare.

Even as the energy picks back up around you, as conversations cautiously resume, it’s like you’re trapped in it, breathless under its weight and unable to look away. You vaguely register the Mirialan turn back to your tits and ask them something about when your shift ends. But you’re still transfixed, watching the armored man take a few deliberate steps towards the bar and straddle a stool, the visor trained like a crosshair upon you as his forearms settle on the bartop.

You’ve seen him here before. Heard his name whispered in weighted ripples ever since news spread through the Outer Rim that Bib Fortuna was dead. Since then, he’s come through maybe once every few dozen cycles, each time with a couple new chips in the paint of his armor. He comes here on business--or at least you assume that’s what it must be, since he always meets someone, speaks in hushed tones enshrouded by the dim corner booth in the back. He’ll toss a few credits on the bar when he leaves, but has never uttered a word to you, never ordered a drink.

Never even glanced your way, for all you know. Until right now.

You swallow. Fucking hell, if there’s anything you’re used to, it’s being looked at. So why is this gaze kicking your pulse up into the base of your throat, making you feel exposed? A prickle of heat is already settling in your cheeks.

And then the visor cocks, and just barely tilts down the length of your figure.

A tight breath snaps into your lungs, and your eyes dart to the bartop, across the room, back to the Mirialan still babbling dumbly at you, your face now hot. Kriff, what is wrong with you? Since when are you outright flustered by some stranger copping an eyeful? You try to breathe, ignoring how the hairs stand on your neck.

But you can still feel his attention like the heat of a sun warming your bare shoulder, and it makes something start to coil in your belly and glow there.

“I’ll have that ruge right up, sweetheart.”

You’re pretty sure you interrupt the kid, but he doesn’t seem to mind, just calls out a stammered thank-you as you pivot away towards your new guest, your heart kicking against your sternum. Your feet almost feel weighted to the floor, and by the time you reach him, your pulse has an edge like a blade.

“Something I can interest you in?”

There’s a breathlessness to the warm air of your voice now, and you pray to the Maker that it doesn’t betray you. You lean against the bar, hoping that the solidity of the wood will somehow teach your nerves to follow its example. It doesn’t.

He seems to study you for a moment, motionless. And then his shoulders shift, his elbows widen, and he leans in towards you.

“Information.” His voice is low and direct, barely above a graveled whisper, the single accent-laden word dragging through your belly and sparking like metal on stone.

Fuck.

Of course he’s after the one thing you’re not willing to sell.

Your heart stalls while your mind starts to race, eyes searching the dark visor. Of course you’d be a fool to deny him, and he knows it. That’s why he’s asking you. Why would you risk rousing a scene in your own bar, especially when the night is so mercifully calm? Easier to give him what he wants. Tap into your collection of liquor-loosened secrets, and knowledge of the local crowd.

The thing is, you’ve built a good rapport for your discretion. You think. Not to mention the number of cutting warnings Dakk has laid on you about the consequences for selling secrets in his bar. Is it really worth risking? Fett intimidates you, no doubt. But he’s also banking on the assumption that you won’t make this difficult for him. He has to be. And now unease and excitement are starting to play a game of catch between your ribs with that tiny, dangerous spark of boldness.

“Fresh out.” Your fingers drum the wood beneath them, trying to ground your reflexes through the rush of adrenaline that accompanies your words. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and you stare into the blackness of the visor as you let the tiniest, playful smirk flit over your face. “Perhaps something to drink?”

Slowly, achingly slowly, Boba Fett settles back on the bar stool. Unease lances you, splintering with the immediate question of whether you just made the right choice. You don’t want to think about how many he’d manage to kill before you could even blink, if he decided to do something extreme. His hand starts to shift back along his thigh, drawing a path towards the blaster at his hip. You swallow, panic pricking your neck.

Just as your muscles are primed to dive behind the bar, convinced you’re going to have to evade his quickdraw, his palm just takes a lazy rest on the hilt. The helmet levels, and then leans slowly to the side.

“No.”

Dizzied, you blink. It’s impossible to know what he’s thinking through that helmet, and he’s offered you all of two words. But was that… amusement, you heard? No. Anger? Fuck, now you’re really imagining things.

Still a little breathless, you straighten, sensing that you’re dismissed. The thought of flirting with a killer was a much-needed rush, but you need to take his indifference as a mercy after that little stunt and get on with your job while he’s giving you the chance. What little you apparently have left of a survival instinct is at least telling you that much.

You shrug.

“Suit yourself.”

It feels dangerous to take your eyes off of him. But you force yourself to do so anyways, turning your back on the hunter and making your way to the dim doorway at the end of the bar, his attention still heating your spine.

It’s a fucking relief to slip through the door to the storage room, ease the door shut behind you, and for the first time in what feels like moons, you let a long breath fill your lungs. The familiar scent of dust and wine-aged wood floods you, and something like disappointment tugs at your heart.

Maybe that stupid, adventure-craving side of your imagination took things too far, fueled by your boredom and the prospect of something exciting finally happening. You suppose you projected that naive hope onto Boba Fett, if nothing else just because he’s the first person to come through here in a long time that actually intrigues you. That confounds your prized, finely-calibrated radar for reading people without having to speak a word to them.

Fuck, he really wouldn’t give you much more than a word, would he? Guess he’s determined to keep scrambling your sensors. It shouldn’t deject you as much as it does. But... come on, the least the son of a mudscuffer could do is flirt back if he was gonna fucking undress you with his eyes like that.

Or maybe that was just your imagination, too.

You sigh, scanning a shelf on the back wall for a ruge that will make a convincing enough dupe. A synthetic varietal, perhaps. No--too cheap. You’ve got something from a Naboo vineyard in here somewhere. Anyways, whatever, since when are you desperate for any man’s attention?

No, okay, it’s... you know that isn’t what this is really about.

It would just be nice to feel important, is all. Like the secrets you’ve gathered might be worth something. Could someday give you a place in something bigger. Or at least like anything about you might be worth more than equivalent to a shot of shitty spotchka.

Forget it. As if that will ever happen.

Your finger absently traces the dusty label of a bottle, and then a soft clink of metal behind you freezes your blood.

You whip around to meet a wall of beskar, inches from your face.

You start to scream, but the sound catches in your throat when a big hand seizes you by the back of the neck and wrenches you around, bending you at the hips and slamming you chest-down against the stale wood of a storage crate. Cold metal presses your thighs and your heart smacks your ribs, your body completely trapped under Boba Fett’s mass in one motion.

“I said I need information, little one, and you’re going to give it to me.” His voice scrapes over your body, sliding through the dim room like the shadow from a candle flame. You quail beneath him, brain racing with shock.

“I d-don’t—ugh!” The weight of his forearm comes down between your shoulder blades, pressing breathy little grunts from your lungs as you squirm. “I don’t sell out my customers.”

You freeze when the distinct click of a blaster registers right at your temple.

“Never said I was buying.”

Panic zips down your spine, your chest heaving against the wooden crate as heat slams your core. Somewhere, your rational brain is scrambling to parse the threat, but something about the sheer filth and danger of it is setting your whole body on fire, making far more primal nerves come alive. Trying to shake the feeling, you squirm.

“At lea--ngh, least nothing’s changed there.”

Fucking hell, what are you doing? Besides sassing the known murderer with a blaster currently trained at your head, alone in a dark room. Yet somehow that very fact is making arousal bloom so wicked and fast that you can already start to feel your cunt throb against the fabric of his pants.

“Willing to die to protect a few spineless slime crawlers who don’t even know your name?” Boba rocks his weight against you, powerful and lazy in the way he simply leans into his hips, grinds them up hard against your ass to keep you flattened over the edge of the crate. “Boss man lines his pockets while his good little pet works for scraps.” Air feels more scarce to your lungs by the second. “Interesting, how your loyalties lie.”

Indignance flares up your spine.

“I w-ouldn’t expect you to understand.” You try to put venom in the words, but it’s difficult between your breathlessness and the sheer eroticism of this position you’re in. “Small price to pay, f-for a good life.”

Through your annoyance, you can’t help feeling a twinge of enjoyment at his solidity, at how you can just discern the outline of him through his pants. An excited thrum of your pulse snaps to your core like a fuse.

Above you, Boba Fett chuckles.

“Is that what he gives you?” There’s a mockery to his tone that heats your blood, and you start to squirm in defiance before remembering the blaster at your temple. Fett simply crushes you harder, drawing your attention back to his crotch. “Seems to me like you’re the mouse in his attic.”

“I suppose you’re better than him? Than any of them?” you immediately bite, not wanting to acknowledge the truth behind his words. Instead, you grab that spark of bravery and crank the voltage until it drowns your doubt, throwing your caution to the stars faster than punching an airlock in hyperspace. “Do you even know m-my name, Mando?” A tiny giggle ripples your chest. “I know yours.”

“Might be the last one you know,” Boba growls, but you’re becoming fixated on his cock now, the way you could swear that it’s growing more distinct by the second.

Fear and pleasure wrack your brain, the combination intensifying so deliciously with the pressure of his groin against your ass that you can hardly think straight any more. In a moment of sick indulgence, you arch your back and shift just slightly, wanting to feel that pressure against something now pulsing and sensitive.

The grip on your neck locks tight, and your breath stops.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, princess.”

He kicks your legs apart and crushes his hardening bulge against your pussy. And, fuck, you moan. You don’t even mean to, but the thrill of helplessness has you so mindlessly turned on that you can’t stop the noise from squeezing out of your throat.

“Filthy little thing you are.”

There’s a shift in his tone now. The vice hold disappears from your nape just before your pants are wrenched unceremoniously over your ass and down to mid thigh. You gasp at the feeling of air brushing your bare lips. He takes a moment, and you think he must be looking at you. Heat blossoms from your face all the way down to your chest, and then he’s against you again, a palm coming down between your shoulders as coarse fabric presses flush with your cunt.

You can really feel the outline of his cock now, hard enough to rival his armor but warm and thick against you, and you whimper. It’s only a click that snaps your awareness back to the weapon pointed at your head.

“Let’s try this again, little mouse.” Boba’s voice comes lower and airier through the vocoder now in a way that blazes right through you. “You give me what I want, and perhaps you’ll inspire my generosity.”

In emphasis of his intent, he rocks his erection against the cleft of your pussy. Your eyes snap wide, an almost painful stab of arousal making you immediately whine louder than you intend to. “Fuck--oh, please!”

“Careful.” His hand slides up your neck, angling your face so that he can see it twist in shame and pleasure. “Wouldn’t want anyone finding you like this.”

Your cheeks blaze. Shallow breaths stutter in your lungs as his thumb tugs the pillow of your lower lip. And then he releases you, his hand moving back somewhere you can’t sense. The pressure against your ass shifts for a moment, just before the wide, hot shaft of his bare cock caresses your cunt.

“Last night there was a man here, Mon Cala, middle aged.” Your body is on fire as he speaks, the skin to skin contact dousing your brain in blind want. You grit your teeth, screw your eyes shut, trying hard to focus on what he’s saying while your pussy twinges around nothing. “He talked to the owner here, then he met with someone. Tell me who.”

A reluctant whimper leaves your lips, and the noise might just be one of the most pathetic you’ve ever made as your tongue still stubbornly refuses to slip. But Fett’s words ring again through your head with a resentful pang: the mouse in his attic. Is that what you’ll die as?

At your temple, the blaster’s safety disengages.

“Fuck! Okay, okay.” Your breath comes heavily, brain uncertain and lust-addled, fumbling for the details. “He um. Met a--mmh, a woman, I d-didn’t catch her name. Please--” Your voice trails off in a soft whine, your hips shifting back, trying to find the means to swallow his cock where it teases your tender core, entice him with the diversion now that you’ve given him a crumb.

“You must be dumber than I took you for, sweetling.” His hips retreat slightly, evading you. The sheer display of restraint is infuriating, electrifying. It shallows your breath with need. He stills again, a rough, gloved hand running firmly up your spine, pushing your shirt up to bare more of your skin to his view. “Tell me the rest.”

Your teeth set with a final, feeble whine of hesitation. More instinct than anything. But then a cold ring of metal presses your temple, and fresh fear unbinds your tongue in a deluge.

“S-she had, ah--civilian clothes, but, um… an Imperial s-standard issue blaster.” Your eyes screw in concentration, details flickering like a glitchy holocom through your brain. “I heard them talk about, uh. A shipment. For… Fuck, uh. Th-three cycles from now.”

Boba hums, a sound that makes your eyes roll back as you feel yourself nearly dripping against him, your slick coating his cock where it just barely parts you.

“Smart girl.” His hand drags indulgently down your back, coming to rest on your hip and squeezing. “Where’s the shipment going, princess?”

Torture. This is some kind of galactic war crime, you’re sure of it. Pleasure surges from your teased cunt and his grip on your flesh, and his voice is almost soothing now, coaxing you further towards complacency. It’s all too much. Your head rests against the crate, defeat washing in a gentle tide over you.

“Going... to Hosnian Prime.”

A soft, satisfied puff of noise comes from the modulator. The barrel retreats from your temple.

“Now, there’s a good girl.”

Warmth crashes through your lower belly, a strange and exhilarating sensation that suddenly makes you want to... purr? No one has ever spoken to you like this, and it’s tickling a part of your brain that feels far, far too good. But then his cock glides thick and heavy along your folds, obliterating your thoughts, and all you can think about is having that inside of you.

“Fuck,” you whine as he slowly aligns himself, teasing up and down the drenched, tender flesh of your pussy. He takes his time, massaging the blunt head over your clit and sending little shocks through your muscles, making you shiver and clench. “Please, please…”

“Tame little creature when you want to be,” he grits, pressing against your entrance with an exhaled groan. “Keep being good for me.”

Slowly, he starts to push. And, oh, fuck.

You’re not ready.

You’re wetter and needier than you’ve ever been in your life, and you’re still not fucking ready to take a cock like this one when it crushes in and stretches you, setting an ache through your hips that tells you whatever happens, you’re bound to feel him for days.

A cry sticks in your throat and you will yourself to breathe, to relax as he sinks in further, forcing your walls to flutter and part around him. It truly feels like being broken open, and your fingers have to dig into the wood beneath you when he pulls out an inch and then pushes again, sinking deeper this time as a choked noise pulls through the vocoder.

By the time he finally bottoms out, you swear you can feel him shifting your guts. Every muscle in your pelvis is straining to take him, the intensity mind-numbing already. You’re nearly choking on your own attempts to breathe while he pauses, sheathed like this for a few moments, seeming to concentrate on his own breathing at the same time.

And then his voice comes again, a growl, pitched even lower and more ferocious than before through a clutched breath.

“Fuck, you’re a tight little thing.”

Stars.

This is different.

It’s so hard to think, you’ve never felt more full, but something in the back of your mind is unfurling, turning hot and primal with a roiling kind of need that burgeons and begs at the feeling of his cock rooted so fucking deep inside of you. You’ve had sex before, sure, but this…

You’re about to get fucked.

“Please…” you mewl. Desperation pierces you when you feel his fingers flex strong and firm around your hip in response. You turn your head, trying to glimpse him--only to realize that the blaster is still right next to your face, its angle nonchalant, close enough to brush your lips.

Your mind is so drenched in lust, the first urge that strikes you is to stick out your tongue and wet the metal, its sharp alloy piercing your senses and making your pussy seize with the shudder of danger.

In your periphery, you see the visor snap to attention, like he wasn’t fully looking at you before, lost in his own pleasure. But now he is. And he gives the weapon an experimental twist, allowing for your lips to wrap, delicate and wet, just around the tip of the barrel.

“Fearless little mouse.” There’s something dark and charged in his voice. “You look good like that.”

A slight wiggle to open your jaw, and the blaster shoves past your lips, resting thick and cold on your tongue, lighting your spine with a new thrill. Your voice swells on a muffled moan around it, such a soft and lovely sound to accompany a thing that’s orchestrated countless deaths.

“There we are. Nice and quiet now.”

Finally, finally, he starts to thrust, slow and measured, forcing your body to yield around the width of him. Something burns hot in your belly with each steady stroke, wiping your brain of everything but his presence.

The rough material of a glove smothers one of your asscheeks, grips and pulls at the pillowy flesh, spreading you open as his thrusts take up a steady, powerful rhythm. Boba Fett lets out a long groan, and you can only imagine the view he has right now. It sears you alive, the knowledge that he likes looking at you like this, pitching and whimpering with his rhythm, the sight of your pussy stretched, helpless around his cock and your mouth wetting his blaster.

Your spit slicks the barrel more with every thrust, and you can feel the mechanics shifting dangerously between your lips. But his trigger finger is steadier than death, and his control gives you the nerve to let your tongue lick out along the barrel, bathe in the electric wash of fear that sets all of your nerves into overdrive.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he snarls as his pace starts to kick up wilder.

Intense pleasure cracks through you now, visceral in a way you’ve never felt, and it’s all you can do to keep relatively quiet. The barrel on your tongue is a sharp enough reminder, yet it fuels your arousal to burn hotter and wetter all the same. The more you concentrate on the powerful bliss coiling in your core and rippling outwards, the more you can feel yourself starting to tighten around him, your body yearning vaguely towards a release it can’t seem to center on.

You hear him groan as you squeeze him, his grip on your flesh flexing and shifting. A few more strong thrusts, and then his cock pulls all the way out of you with a woeful pang, the blaster vacating your mouth in the same motion to leave you empty, dizzied and clenching. But before you can unscramble your brain, the blaster slots back into its holster and he’s moving you. With an effortless kind of control, he flips you over, shifting you until the solid wood of the crate supports your ass.

He hikes both of your legs onto one shoulder and in one swift, easy motion, whisks your pants over your shoes and off of your ankles, tossing them carelessly into the darkness of the room before hooking your legs around his armored waist.

“Going to watch you cum, princess. Nice and pretty.”

Your mouth opens on a gasp at his words, and a gloved thumb immediately presses your tongue, the taste of leather and plasma residue grounding your senses enough to register that he’s lining his cock back up at the heat of your entrance. You whine around his thick digit, and he growls somewhere low in his chest as he pushes the thick head back in, this new angle making you see stars all over again.

He doesn’t bother letting you adjust this time, just uses your wetness to his advantage to start railing through your tightness, burning and stretching you as that warm swell starts to crest again. It’s such a deep, full feeling, spreading a delicious ache from the spot where he hits you deep in your tummy.

Your brows draw together, your whines pitching higher as you search the visor. It’s a wordless plea, your vision swallowed by the power of him fucking you deep, your body now screaming to cum but needing something you can’t quite pinpoint.

The hunter’s thumb slips out of your mouth, his hand forging an eager path down your body. He palms your tit over your shirt, before grabbing the low collar and yanking it down, baring your nipples to his view one after the other. His whole hand spans your torso as he hooks the lower hem with his thumb, bunching the material until both your belly and tits are bare, your shirt like a handle at your diaphragm that he uses to pound you even harder, watching your body jolt, overpowered by his thrusts.

Airy little wails brush through your lips, the pleasure all too intense and not enough at the same time. You can’t take it anymore, you need something on your clit, and your fingers twitch to seek out that precious target. But he’s already moving, his hips slowing to a lazier pace while his free hand finds some destination at his belt, and what he produces freezes you in your tracks.

“Steady now,” he breathes as he slips a long blade out of his belt and spins it by the hilt, his fingers almost too quick, too tactful for such a brute.

Instinctual panic grips you at the sight of the weapon, making your legs try to close. But he’s pushed too deep in you, his frame has you pinned open, and there’s nothing you can do against the sheer breadth of his body. Powerless, you simply whimper.

“Wh… what are y--”

“Hush, princess.”

A flick of his thumb and the vibroblade springs to life, its hum filling the quiet air. He starts to bring the blunt hilt of it down where your body yields to his. Alarm pierces you one final time, but then he touches the pommel, just barely, against the tender swell of your clit.

You want to fucking scream. As if in anticipation of this, he claps his hand over your mouth just in time for you to bite down on his glove while your eyes roll back in a powerful wave of ecstasy. The vibrations surge through the sensitive nerves, lighting your whole body up in a way you’ve never felt before. It’s pure bliss, and then a low, long growl slips through the helmet’s modulator at the feeling of your walls pulsing tight, strangling his cock.

His thrusts deepen again, powerful and steady, stroking some devastating spot deep inside you. Your muffled wails get lost in the breath-dampened fabric of his glove while the intense pleasure crests from your clit, higher, higher, lasering in on that intangible cusp and barreling you straight towards it.

You suspend at the peak, all senses failing, and then your orgasm takes you in a riptide, surging through your nerves like liquid fire. The magnitude of it rends you, stronger than you’ve ever felt, dragging you under and forcing you to ride it out while it just pulls and pulls. By the time you regain your sight you’re shaking, waves of bliss still pulsing and crashing through your body in time to the strong rhythm of his hips, the glowing epicenter that unwavering vibration at your clit.

Sobs wrack your chest, pour out high and lose themselves somewhere in the meat of his hand, and you think you try to catch a few breaths, but you can’t even come down. Boba’s voice cuts through the rush in your ears.

“Good. Good girl.”

He holds the buzzing hilt of the blade impossibly steady against your clit and that glow is still so bright, twitching, starting to spill through your nerves again and holy shit you think you just might--

“Again.”

Your second orgasm shreds you like a plasma cannon.

You’re blind, numb to everything but the intense pleasure, nerves now as raw and sharp as the edge of the blade itself. His hand is tight over your face and you feel your cunt convulsing and gushing around his cock, slick cum spilling to wet your asscheeks, and it must be your own because his pace hasn’t let up.

A clatter resounds on the edge of your consciousness and when your eyes come into focus, Boba’s hand is locking into your waist, the blade discarded somewhere in the room. His hips piston hard with a few vulgar slaps of flesh, the head of his cock crushing against your deepest parts before he wrenches out of you and spills over your bare stomach with a strangled roar, gripping himself at the base and thrusting against you as warm, thick ropes paint your skin.

His release is long. Grunts distort into rough static through the vocoder as he rides out the last pulses, until finally he braces himself on the crate beside your head, hunched over you like a beast, his chest plate rolling with heavy breaths. You can only blink at him through hazed, damp eyes, your body feeling weak and utterly fucked dumb. The hand over your mouth slowly unlocks its grip, dragging downwards and leaving you to take shallow gulps of air while he gives your tit a deliberate squeeze.

And then he drags himself off of you, straightening with an almost-concealed groan as he adjusts himself and leaves you to blink at the dark ceiling, still letting oxygen find your brain.

When you shakily manage to sit up, you just glimpse him slipping the discarded vibroblade back into his belt and turning towards the door. Even through your dizziness, you scoff. Figures. Bastard is just going to fuck your brains out and then leave you like this.

“You know,” you sigh, watching him and lazily trailing your fingers in a circle on your tummy, enjoying the lingering buzz of your skin and gathering a bit of his spend where it coats you, still warm. “I’d say that tip-off was at least worth a handful of credits in my jar on your way out.”

He turns and looks at you then, the helmet cocking in consideration for a moment. As soon as his attention is on you, your fingers move from his mess on your belly to your mouth, where you slowly suckle him off of your fingers, never once taking your eyes off the visor, a tiny ripple of playfulness wiggling your shoulders and curling your lips.

His shoulders square to you, and that hunter’s stance still makes your chest seize, sends a pulse to your exhausted pussy.

Metal clinks softly as he walks towards you, stepping between your knees until you’re forced to drop your hand from your mouth and look up at him, heart fluttering again. He brushes the knuckle of his forefinger under your chin.

“Fresh out.”

His back turns as you stare, speechless. And then the door swings on its hinges, and Boba Fett is gone.

#boba fett #boba fett x reader #boba fett x you #boba fett smut #star wars fanfiction #smut #loyalties lie #my works #masterlist

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ssahotchhner · 3 years

Text

like real people do

PART TWO

hi! this is my first criminal minds fic, i haven’t watched the show all the way through in several years and while doing a rewatch discovered that i HAD to write hotch. this will be two parts, here’s the first! let me know your thoughts please, i love talking to my readers (:

words: 5837

pairing: hotch x reader

warnings: usual criminal minds nastiness, rape mention, death, curse words

Everyone knew that SSA Aaron Hotchner has been emotionally unavailable since his divorce, so everyone was that much more surprised when he kissed you at the bar in front of all your colleagues at the BAU. You wouldn’t lie, you had had a crush on Aaron for years now, but you had imagined your hypothetical romance much differently. As it was, Aaron had immediately left the bar in a flurry of embarrassment, murmuring a hurried apology on his way out leaving you to the unabashed teasing of your coworkers that you had pretended to brush off. Now, days later, Aaron still refused to so much as look at you.

“Y/N,” Morgan rolled his chair over to your desk, “I’m dying to know, is Hotch a good kisser?”

You sigh, “Fuck off, Derek.”

“Leave the poor girl alone, Derek,” Rossi says as he passes by, “Don’t you think it’s bad enough Hotch is giving her the silent treatment now?”

You tried to hide the way the tears pricked the back of your eyes at his comment, but you were surrounded by FBI profilers.

Morgan lowered his voice and reach out his hand to touch your arm, “Hey, babygirl, I’m sorry, I was just teasing, maybe you should try talking to Hotch--”

“Talking to me about what?” Aaron had been so quiet walking up on you and your head had been low, so focused on not crying that you hadn’t heard him.

“Nothing.” You say quickly, and as expected he avoids making eye contact, “Do you need something, sir?” You don’t miss the way he flinches at the formality. Good.

“We have a new case.” He says simply and walks away.

Morgan let out a low whistle, “You really hit him with the ‘sir.’” You started to get up from your desk, but Morgan put a hand on your arm again, “Seriously, Y/N, I’m sorry. If you need to talk I’m here.”

You sighed and stood up again, forcing a smile, “There’s nothing to talk about Derek, I’m fine. Now come on.”

“We have a serial rapist in Milwaukee, Wisconsin.” JJ starts immediately as everyone files in. You feel Morgan’s gaze on you the entire time and try not to get frustrated. He’s been like a brother to you since you joined the BAU a few years ago and you know this overprotectiveness was just him being a good friend, but it was bound to drive you nuts. “Victims are all white women ranging from their late teens to early twenties at a local university.”

“Why are we being called in for a rapist on a college campus?” Reid asks, “I don’t mean to be insensitive, but we all know the statistics. There are dozens of serial rapists on college campuses.”

“Because this one is torturing them while he rapes them and leaves them notes leading up to the attacks.” Hotch says as Penelope begins to pull up pictures on the screen of these women. “Slut, whore, bitch, cunt. All carved on their chests.” You do your best to hide the nausea that rises in you as you look at the pictures. Do your job. You remind yourself.

“What do the notes say?” Emily asks.

“They seem like thinly veiled threats,” Reid begins, “They sound romantic at first glance, but if you read closely you can see the context.”

“He breaks into their dorms when they’re at class or at parties and waits for them to come home and then he holds them at knifepoint so they won’t scream.” Penelope says, trying not to let her voice shake.

“Risky to do in a dorm building and no one’s seen him?” Morgan says.

Rossi ponders this, “That means he must blend in, someone no one would think twice about being inside. A student, an RA, or a university official.”

“University officials don’t normally enter student dorms unless there’s an issue, they’d be more likely to stand out and students would talk about them showing up.” Hotch muses.

“Y/N, you’re awful quiet today,” Emily nudges your elbow, “What do you think?”

You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, but Aaron’s. Still looking at his manila folder as if Emily hadn’t addressed you. As if you didn’t exist. You clear your throat, “I think the RA or student theory makes sense. We should probably interview the RA of the first victim, assuming he’s a man. It would make sense to me that he would start with one of his own students and then begin to branch out. Maybe he thought he could stop, get that release he needed after just one, but the need only grew stronger.”

“Wheels up in thirty, we’ll discuss more on the plane.” Hotch says and stands, walking out of the room without another glance.

“Did something happen last night at the bar?” Emily murmurs, the only member of the team who didn’t make it out the night before, “Hotch is acting really weird around you.”

Derek snickers on the other side of you and you elbow him, “That’s it, I’m going to talk to him.”

Reid winces, “Good luck.”

“It’ll be fine, kid.” Rossi says and squeezes your shoulder as you pass.

You take a long breath before you finally build the courage to walk into Aaron’s office where he’s packing his briefcase. “Sir, can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Can it wait until we’re on the plane, agent?”

Agent. You roll your eyes toward the ceiling, “No, sir, it can’t.” You can’t hide the bite in your words this time. He finally looks at you, really looks at you. You wonder what he sees.

“Close the door.” He says quietly and then sits behind his desk.

You walk slowly to the seat in front of his desk. This time, he watches you. “This is the first time you’ve looked at me all day.”

“I wasn’t aware you were analyzing me.”

“Are you telling me you haven’t been analyzing me all day?”

“Agent, what is this about? We have a plane to catch.”

You stare at him for a few moments longer, “Fine,” You stand, “If you want to pretend nothing happened, I’ll do the same. But if you could at least stop ignoring me, that would be great.”

“Agent--”

“And use my goddamn name, for Christ’s sake.”

He stares at you and you know he hates your emotional outburst and that in turn makes you hate yourself. “Then you stop calling me ‘sir.’” He says quietly.

Your eyes soften for just a moment and then you storm back out of his office nearly plowing over Rossi as you leave. Rossi walks into Aaron’s office to see him rubbing his forehead, “Well that doesn’t look like it went well.”

“I screwed up, Rossi.”

“Oh, come on Hotch, it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything--”

“It did mean something. To me. Maybe not to her.”

Rossi shakes his head, “Then why are you giving her the cold shoulder?”

Hotch sighs, “Because we work together, because she doesn’t feel the same, because she’s the first woman I’ve kissed since Haley. Pick a reason.” Rossi looks like he’s going to interject, but Hotch stands, “We don’t have time for this, Rossi, let’s go.”

Rossi sighs as he watches Aaron walk out of his office and follows after.

***

You’re quiet most of the plane ride, conscious of the looks everyone is giving you as you read the information in the manila folder over and over, trying to be good at your job instead of thinking about your boss.

“When we get off the plane, JJ and Prentiss, you go talk to the victims. Rossi and I will touch base with the police. Morgan, Reid, Y/N, you go talk to anyone you can find at the dorms, see if anyone’s seen anyone suspicious.” You make it a point not to react, but everyone else reacts anyway, watching you carefully. Hotch almost always assigns himself with you.

“If you guys don’t stop psychoanalyzing me I will eject myself from this plane.”

Everyone looks away except Aaron and when you meet his eyes, he’s smirking. Those smiles are so rare and you can’t deny how it satisfies you to know you were the reason he did so. You quickly look back down at your work, careful not to reveal anything you’re feeling.

***

“Do you have feelings for Hotch?” Reid asks without preamble when you’re in the car with Derek.

“Spencer!” You exclaim in outrage. Derek just laughs from the driver’s seat.

“What? You both wouldn’t be being so weird about one kiss if it wasn’t something more.”

“Okay, Romeo, remember that she’s armed.” Derek cautioned.

“He’s my boss, Reid. It’s weird because he’s my boss.”

“Well, sure, by definition Hotch is our superior but we all know--” Reid cut himself off when he saw the look Derek was giving him in the rearview mirror, “Yeah, you’re right, it’s weird.” He said quickly.

You sigh and turn to the window and ignore Derek and Spencer the rest of the ride.

***

“So you mean to tell me that ten women have come forward about being raped in their dorms and you told them to consider themselves lucky they weren’t murdered and sent them home without doing a rape kit?” Aaron’s furious. Furious with himself for the previous night and he’s more than happy to take out that anger on the local Milwaukee police department.

“Look, man, we get a lot of he said she said in here, we don’t have the time or the man power to follow up on every one.”

Just then his phone rings. It’s you. He wishes he could ignore the pang that goes through him just from reading your name. “Hotch.” He answers.

“Sir-- I mean, Aaron.” You correct yourself quickly, and then realize you should have called him Hotch, but it’s too late. “They’ve found a body.”

He frowns, “A body? That doesn’t fit his MO.”

You swallow, “Yeah, well, everything else does. He seems to have gotten a little carried away with the carving this time.”

“We’ll be right there.”

You hang up your phone and then turn back to Reid and Morgan who are looking over the crime scene. You sit with Victoria’s, the victim’s, distraught roommate and try to calm her and maybe get some actual information out of her. You don’t hear or see Aaron walk in until he’s already next to you, “Did you get anything from her?”

His closeness makes it hard to focus, “Just regular roommate stuff, she might be more useful once she calms down. I asked if her roommate had a boyfriend or anything like that and she said she was quiet, kept to herself. Boys were out of the question.”

“He’s escalated. Why?”

You shrug, “Could be because we’re here, that might have upset him and he lost control. But it could have been an accident, roommate says Victoria had a heart condition. The stress of the situation might have killed her.”

Hotch nods, “Good work.”

He was trying to be normal, you could tell. And he was trying so hard. “Thank you.” You said softly and then you excused yourself. Everything about him set you on edge and over and over the moment he kissed you plays in your head.

***

You’re both laughing to near snorting while sitting at the bar and Aaron can’t stop watching you, “You have an incredible laugh, you know?” He says softly when you’ve both settled down. “Sometimes when I think this job isn’t worth it, I’ll hear your laugh outside my office and just that sound…” He realizes what he’s saying suddenly and turns his head away from you smiling at his drink now.

“You make it worth it for me too.” You say and his eyes are back on you, “You so rarely ever smile, but when you smile at me… It makes it all worth it. The long hours, the horrible cases… all of it.”

When you look back at him he’s suddenly serious again. You can see his eyes calculating as he searches your face and you realize with a bit of shock that he’s trying to see if you’re lying. When his eyes finally settle back on yours, he gently reaches up, almost without thinking about it and curls a loose piece of hair behind your ear.

And then in the next second, his hand still on your face, his mouth is on yours.You forget that there’s anyone else in the world for those few seconds that he kisses you. Until everyone on the team starts jeering and Aaron pulls away like he’s seen a ghost.

“Aaron?” You say, frowning as he jumps up from his seat, not looking at you and gathering his things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he murmurs and then runs out.

Derek’s laughing as he walks up to you, “Damn, princess. You broke Hotch! I gotta say, you’re incredibly out of his league.” You glare at him. “What? You’re out of my league too.”

You smile at that and try to act like everything’s normal, but you’re sure Spencer notices that you drink more and laugh a little too loudly.

***

You’re pulled back from the memory as JJ walks toward you, “Hey, you alright?”

“Yeah,” You nod, “Fine, just needed a second alone to think.”

She stops in front of you and rests her hand on your arm, lightly squeezing, “You can talk to me, you know, about men. Even Hotch.”

You smile, “I appreciate everyone’s concern, but I’m fine, really. It’s not that big a deal.”

“It’s a big deal if it starts interfering with the job, and I can see it on both of you,” She’s stern all of a sudden, “I know he’s our boss, but underneath that he’s just any other man, Y/N. Don’t let him fool you into thinking otherwise.”

“Guys,” Derek interrupts, sticking his head out into the hallway, “You’re gonna wanna see this.”

When you come back in the room, Spencer is crouched over the body, gloves on, examining the carvings in her body, “There’s hesitation in the cuts this time and you can tell they were done after she was dead. And if you look a little bit closer…”

“‘Sorry…’” You read the small script, astonished. “Remorse. It was an accident.” Your eyes dart back and forth as you lose yourself in your own thoughts while the rest of the team discusses, “I think we can deliver the profile.”

***

“We’re looking for a white male in his early to mid twenties.” Hotch starts, “He most likely is able to gain the women’s trust, maybe he’s a student RA or a student tech worker, but they let him in without a second thought.”

“I thought he breaks into the dorms and waits for them?” A cop asks.

“He does,” You say, “But the initial access is how he chooses his victims. He’s a loner, doesn’t have many friends, certainly no girlfriend. It’s possible that he asks these girls on dates when he first meets them, and when they refuse he feels entitled to them anyway which is why he comes back for the rape.”

“What about the murder?” Another cop asks.

“We believe the death of the last girl was an accident.” Reid responds, “She had a heart condition and the medical examiner has confirmed she died from sudden cardiac arrest. The unsub even seemed to show remorse when he defiled the body after, carving the word ‘sorry’ into her body.”

“The killing has most likely set him on edge. He’s remorseful, upset, overcome with immense guilt, but he blames the women. If they had just said yes to him, he wouldn’t have to do this. She wouldn’t have died.” Derek continues, “You should be looking for someone who was soft spoken, but as the rapes started he became more assertive, maybe he had an altercation with a professor or supervisor.”

“You’ve probably interviewed him already,” You say, “He inserts himself into the investigation because he feels guilt and watching the investigation play out validates that he was right for doing what he did.” You sigh, “There’s one more thing. He didn’t intend to kill Victoria, but… He spent time with the body after she had passed. He mutilated her as well as continued his rape of her afterward. It’s possible that he enjoyed the kill and will kill the next time as well. So stay vigilant and… please tell the girls not to let any men in their dorms. Thank you.”

Aaron comes up to you, “Can I speak to you alone for a moment?”

You nod and follow him into a conference room and he closes the door behind you, “You’re really an incredible profiler, agent.”

Again with the ‘agent.’ “Thank you, sir.”

“I just wanted to assure you that I will remain nothing but professional around you from here on out.”

You tilted your head to the side and you knew the pain was evident on your face as you didn’t try to hide it, “I see.”

“You’re upset.”

You laugh, “Did you mean anything you said at the bar, Aaron, or were you just drunk?” You’re aware of how vulnerable you’re being in front of him now as you can hear the tears in your own voice.

You see him calculating what the best response is and this just infuriates you more, “Forget it, you’re just going to talk to me like some unsub, trying to best figure out what to say to calm me down.”

He shakes his head, “That’s not what I’m doing.”

You start to walk out and stop to stand next to him, “You just said yourself I’m an incredible profiler, so please don’t profile me and think I won’t notice.”

He closes his eyes as you continue walking out, “Y/N, wait.” Despite yourself, you do stop at the sound of your name. “I’m sorry, I-- I meant the things I said at the bar, I’m… But I’m your boss and I don’t want to make it difficult for you to do your job.”

You force a smile and look up at him, “Don’t worry, Hotch, won’t be a problem.”

And then you’re gone and he gets the feeling you won’t call him Aaron ever again.

***

Spencer walks in the entrance of the dorm you’ve been staking out, two coffees in hand. He hands one to you wordlessly, “Have you gotten any sleep?”

“Obviously not.” You sigh and happily guzzle the coffee, “Thanks.”

“Hotch is upset.”

“About what?” You murmur, half paying attention, half going over the case again on the papers in front of you.

“About you, obviously.”

You don’t look up, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. How do you even know Hotch is upset? He always looks like he’s pissed at something.”

“Because I’m a profiler. Everyone knows he’s off, no one will say to his face that it’s because of you.”

You sigh and look up at him, “Spencer, we’re fine, okay? We’re adults.” He’s quiet, but he won’t stop staring at you, “What?”

“I know that I’m… not the most perceptive when it comes to emotions, but… I think he’s in love with you. And I’m pretty sure you’re in love with him.”

You smirk, “And what makes you think that, Mr. Profiler?”

He smiles back, “Well, Hotch is always watching you, mostly when you’re not looking and when he does his expression sort of… softens. He almost always assigns the two of you together when giving the unit assignments, which I think is partially because he likes to be around you, but also because he’s trying to protect you, especially after that hostage situation a few months ago. He was a wreck when you were in there. Screaming at everyone, I really thought he would kill the unsub when he found him.”

“He would do that for any of us, when any of us were in danger.” You said, quickly shaking your head to dismiss the idea.

But Spencer shakes his head, “You didn’t see him. It was different.”

“Spencer, he barely gave me a pat on the back when I left that hostage situation alive.”

“That’s because he doesn’t trust himself around you. Why do you think the only time he’s ever given you a hint at the way he feels was when he was drunk?”

Your head is spinning as you look at Spencer, “No, that doesn’t make any sense--”

“It makes perfect sense and I know you know that.” Spencer’s phone rings, “Reid.” He sighs and lowers his head, “Where? Okay, we’ll be right there.” He hangs up the phone, “There’s another body.”

You sigh, “I really hate being right.”

***

“You were right,” Hotch says from behind you, “He’s discovered he likes killing.”

It was never easy looking at bodies, but somehow it was always worse when you had predicted it and still not been able to stop it, “How did he do it?”

“Manual strangulation.”

“Has anyone checked for skin or blood under her fingernails? Sign of a struggle?”

Aaron nods, “Already scraped off and sent to Garcia.”

“Even if she can’t find a match, we’ll be able to narrow down suspects by the injuries she left.”

“The school is panicking, they want to evacuate the campus.”

“If they evacuate we’ll never find him, he’ll just start again somewhere else.”

“That’s what I told them.”

You sigh, “Why are the girls still letting him in?”

“Maybe they’re not,” Hotch mused, “Maybe he’s starting to pick the girls from his classes now that we’re here.”

“The last two victims, do we have their schedules? Their majors?”

“They were both nursing majors,” Emily interjects, “Third year.”

You nod, “Okay, so by that point, third year, majority of their classes are restricted to nursing majors only.” You flip your phone open and dial Penelope.

“Hello my delightful fairy princess, what can I do for you?”

“Garcia, the last two victims, can you cross reference their class schedules and tell me if they had any classes in common?”

“Yes, just a second… Three classes in common.”

“Okay, cross reference with the remaining victims.”

“Um, okay, wow, all of them had two classes in common.”

“Shit.” You mutter, “Can you send over the class rosters of both those classes, but just the men. And also send pictures.”

“You got it.”

“Thanks, Penelope.”

You shake your head, “They were all nursing majors.” You say as you hang up, “How did we miss that?”

Reid was shaking his head, “We didn’t have a lot of time to interview the victims before the first body turned up.”

“Alright, we need everyone looking through those rosters, rounding up every male we can and interviewing them.” Hotch starts, “Y/N, you’re with me for interviews, the rest of you keep in touch with Garcia and find out anything you can.”

You try to ignore the shock you feel that he picked you this time, noting Reid’s raised eyebrows as he left the room. “You sure you want me on interviews?” You ask when you’re alone.

He’s looking at all the evidence on the corkboard, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Wasn’t sure if you would want to work closely with me anymore.” You say, standing next to him now and also looking over the evidence.

He looks at you now, “You have the same features as a lot of the victims, I’m hoping it’ll get a rise out of our unsub if we find him.”

You nod, “Makes sense.”

“And,” He says pointedly until you meet his eyes, “As I’ve said already, you’re an excellent agent and I could use your help on this.”

You heave a big sigh, “Okay, how do you wanna play it?”

He shrugs, “I think you already know what role I need you to play.”

***

This is maybe the tenth or so interview you and Hotch had done with no success. You were tired of playing this role, especially in front of Hotch.

“Jordan.” You smile sweetly at him, making sure to lean over the table just a little to give him the view he wants, “Did you know either of these girls?” You lay the pictures of the last couple victims on the table, wait to see his reaction. He brings his hands up to rest on the table and you see the shallow scratch marks on them, you share a discreet look with Hotch who barely nods in acknowledgement.

He stares for far too long. Hotch notices his hands clench into fists. He’s excited by the bodies.

“Yeah, I knew them.” He’s still looking at the pictures, “They were in two of my classes.” He finally looks up and gazes at you hungrily, “You seem awful young to be an FBI agent.”

You smile again and then look away, a sign of submission. “Stop flirting with my agent.” Hotch says placing his palms abruptly on the table. Jordan doesn’t flinch at Hotch’s presence, not taking his eyes off you. He’s more confident than either of you anticipated. Was the profile wrong or is this the wrong guy? “How did you know the victims?”

“I just told you, from class.”

“Did you ever see them outside of class?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know, maybe, to do a project, not in a while though.”

“Jordan, do you know if either of the girls had a boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” He frowns, “Those two? No.” He practically scoffs.

You tilt your head to the side, “Why do you say it like that?”

“Those girls aren’t the boyfriend type. They’re whores.” There’s the bitterness in his voice.

You try to make your face as empathetic as possible, “What do you mean by that, Jordan?”

“Well, you know, they slept around… Wouldn’t give a nice guy like me a chance. You must know their type, you’re the FBI.”

You nod, “It must be so hard for a handsome, smart guy like you to get rejected. I can’t imagine why anyone would dream of missing out on that,” You shake your head, “Their loss.”

Hotch audibly scoffs and you watch Jordan glare at him. He’s getting angry. Good. “Hotch, why don’t you go get Jordan a water?”

Hotch blinks at you, trying to figure out if you had really just given him an order, “Agent, I am the lead interrogator on this case, I’m not leaving you alone in here--”

“Agent Hotchner,” You turn in your seat to face him, hoping he’ll read your expression, “Please get the young man a water, he’s been in here for hours.”

His eyes search your face for a few moments and then he leaves the room without another word. He won’t be getting Jordan a water. You know he’s watching carefully from the other side of the glass. “Sorry about him.” You say, “He doesn’t understand men like you.”

“Men like me?”

“Men who know how to get what they want.”

His face transforms as he watches you and he leans back in his chair, relaxed, legs spread to assert his dominance. “And you understand that?”

“There’s nothing sexier than a man who goes after what he wants… No matter what.”

He leans forward and whispers, “Even when they beg me to stop?”

You swallow past your disgust and, though you hate to admit it, fear, “Did they beg you to stop? Victoria and Erica?”

His smile widens as he watches you, “You remind me so much of them.”

“Can you tell me what you did to them? How you killed them?”

He licks his lips now, you think he’s lost all sense of where he is, falling for the delusion you’ve set in front of him, “You’re just like them, a dirty little slut. You want to be punished, don’t you?”

“Please.” Is the last word you whisper before he practically jumps across the table to grab your throat. Your chair falls backwards and he’s on top of you, crushing your windpipe. How could you forget that he was uncuffed? Hotch rushes in, he yells as he pulls Jordan off you, but you’re not sure what he’s saying. Then he’s cuffed Jordan and taken you out of the room.

“Sit.” Aaron says, ushering you to a chair that you practically fall into. You’re still coughing and you’re shaking a bit as Aaron gives you a water.

“I forgot,” You start, your voice hoarse, but Hotch brings the water cup to your mouth, insisting you drink before talking. You take a couple swallows, “I forgot he wasn’t cuffed.”

He shakes his head, “It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have left you alone with him.”

“No, I needed you on the other side of the glass. He wouldn’t have fallen for the delusion otherwise. I needed him to forget who I was and just see me as a potential victim.” Aaron wouldn’t meet your eyes, not wanting to admit that you were right, “I’m going back in there.”

“No, you’re not, that’s out of the question.”

“Is that an order, sir?” He scans your face in frustration, “You know it has to be me. He won’t talk to you. I’ll be fine.”

He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Fine. Ask him about Erica, don’t ask about Victoria.”

“Why?”

“Because he didn’t kill Victoria himself, it’ll ruin the fantasy and he might lie to you to try to impress you. The details of the murders weren’t shared with the public, only the unsub would know how each of them died. He needs to reveal how he killed Erica to you and then we’ll have him.”

“Okay.” You stand and hold your hands behind you so he won’t see them shaking, but he’s a profiler. The attempt is mute.

He takes a step closer, “You don’t have to go back in there,” He says softly, “No one will think less of you.”

When he’s this close, looking at you with such concern, it makes you want to melt in his arms. But you had a job to do, “I can do this.”

And before he can make you think about it more, you turn away from him and march back in the interrogation room.

“Sorry about that,” You sit back down at the table and smile at him, “My partner gets a little jealous sometimes.” You lean in and whisper, “He’s usually the only one I let handle me like that.”

Just like that he’s back, “Why don’t you uncuff me so we can continue?”

You bite your lip, “I’d like to hear more about the other girls first.”

***

“Why is she in there by herself?” Rossi came up behind Aaron who was watching the unsub’s every move, ready to jump in again if needed.

“She insisted.” Hotch says simply, “She almost has him.”

Rossi sighs, “She’s stubborn. Like someone else I know.”

Hotch is quiet for a moment, “I can’t be with her, Rossi, it could ruin her career.”

“You can’t know that. And besides, don’t you think that should be her decision to make?”

Hotch doesn’t answer, he just continues watching you.

***

“Does it turn you on hearing what I’ve done to them?”

You’re sitting on your hands now, trying to stifle the growing panic in your head that was telling you to get out. He’s unarmed, he’s cuffed, Aaron is right there. He can’t hurt you. “You have no idea.” It came out breathless from your fear, but he interpreted it as desire.

“First, I knocked her out, tied her to the bed. Then I waited for her to wake up before I began. I stripped her clothes off her at that point and then I fucked her while she cried,” He’s smiling at you and you’re doing all you can to keep your expression neutral. “I took out the knife and started carving her up. You should have heard her beg. And then, when that’s all finished, I strangled her while I came inside her.” He leans over the table to get closer to you, and it takes everything in you not to move away, “Have you ever watched the light leave someone’s eyes, sweetheart?”

You calmly scoot your chair back and stand, buttoning your shirt back up and then resting your hand on your gun, reminding him of who you really are, “Thank you, Jordan. You’ve been incredibly helpful in this investigation.” And then turn to leave ignoring the way he calls after you.

When you exit the room, Aaron and Dave are both waiting for you and you sit down, exhausted, resting your head in your hands.

“Nice work, kid.” Dave says with a squeeze on your shoulder, and then he’s gone.

Then, there’s another touch on your back, more gentle and hesitant. You look up to see Aaron watching you, concern masking his face, “I’m fine, Hotch.” You say, shrugging him off.

His hand drops and you immediately regret it. “When you were taken those months ago, by that unsub…” His words are slow, as if making sure this is what he really wants to say to you. You know exactly what he’s going to say before he says it, “He raped you, didn’t he?” Your eyes snap up to meet his. “You would never tell us what actually happened, all those hours he had you, a sexual sadist.” He shakes his head, “There’s no way he would’ve been able to control himself.”

You shake your head just lightly, “I can’t do this now, Aaron.”

“Then when?” He’s frustrated now, borderline angry, “You lied at your psych eval, you said nothing happened, we let you come back after just a couple of weeks--”

“And I’m doing just fine, aren’t I?” You stand so you’re nearly eye level with him.

“You think I didn’t notice the way you almost fell apart in there?”

“But I didn’t. I finished it and I did a damn good job and you know it.”

Hotch erases all traces of emotion from his face as he stares you down, “You’re suspended for two weeks, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and gun, agent.”

You nearly stumble back from him as if you’ve been hit, “Aaron?”

“What’s going on?” Prentiss has entered the room now followed by the rest of the team, all watching with confused and worried expressions.

“You heard me.” Hotch says, never taking his eyes off you. You make no moves to take out your badge or gun, “Now, agent.” There’s bite to his words this time.

You feel humiliated. With the whole team watching, you place your gun and badge on the table and brush by Aaron without a second glance. Pushing past the team, even Spencer who reaches for you.

“What the hell was that, Hotch?” Derek says once you’ve left.

“She lied in order to pass her psych eval. I did what I had to do.” Everyone’s staring at him, but he walks by, seemingly unphased, “Good work, everyone. Get some rest, we go home tomorrow at first light.”

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