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#certainly not where he should be no sir
ghost-bxrd · 2 months
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Prompt:
Red Hood finds Nightwing in the throes of fear toxin, babbling about missed calls and text messages.
586 notes · View notes
headkiss · 1 year
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steady hand
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pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader
summary: hotch catches you at the worst times, but you’re not mad about it. or: 4 times you need hotch’s help +1 time he needs yours.
word count: 6.1k
warnings: probably very inaccurate descriptions of r’s job (it’s for the plot, okay??), shy!reader, a very small injury description, yearning (?), first kiss, fluff !!!
a/n: hiiiii this is my very first hotch fic (gasp) so i hope i did okay!!! i’m excited to be writing for him and i have enjoyed it so far and i hope you will too!!! please please let me know what you think and if you’d want to see more of him from me <33
People are usually impressed when you tell them you work at the BAU.
Which, you won’t lie, is something to be proud of, but their first thought is always that you’re doing something big and solving cases. They ask you if you were there when this case was solved or when that killer was caught.
Then there’s the nodding and dissipation of their excitement when you explain that you work a desk job there. Organize files, write reports, that sort of thing. That is a lot less impressive to most.
You’re no Agent Morgan, or Dr. Reid. Certainly no Agent Hotchner or Prentiss. Instead of being on the field, you spend your time fighting with a printer.
Getting the papers you needed should have been simple, a quick in and out that would have you back hiding behind your desk in minutes. Of course, the universe or something must be against you, because instead, you’ve spent at least twenty minutes trying to figure out what’s wrong.
It isn’t jammed (you’ve checked about five times to be sure) and you’re not educated in printers enough to know how to fix whatever’s going on. You’re just lucky nobody else has needed it yet.
“Come on,” you mutter, trying to pull it away from the wall to get a better look.
You’re sure there’s stress sweat building on your forehead. The last thing you want to do is ask someone for help, to make yourself too visible in this place full of important, intimidating people. You’d rather struggle on your own for now.
You make sure that the thing is plugged in (it is) and then check if it’s jammed. Again.
“Piece of shit,” you’re mumbling at the thing, leaning over it looking for anything out of place.
That’s when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. The sound has you jumping, your knuckles smacking against the wall where your hand had been wedged between it and the printer. You turn around to find Agent Hotchner.
He’d been walking by the printer room when he heard the grumbled curse words. Peeking inside, he’d been pleasantly surprised to find you fussing over the printer. He bit back a chuckle before making his presence known.
You tug your skirt down where it’d ridden up, fiddling with the hem as you try to push down your embarrassment. Of course he’d be the one to see you, in his crisp suit and all. He’s leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, his arms crossed loosely. You swallow and try not to look at his biceps.
“Sorry, sir. The printer doesn’t seem to be, um, printing.”
“I’m assuming that’s why you were fighting with it.”
You fight a wince, “you heard that?”
“Heard what?” He asks, though by the twitch of his lips, you know that he’s well aware of what you’re talking about. He then gestures at the cause of your issues behind you, “it’s not jammed, is it?”
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t when I checked, at least.”
You’re trying not to act as nervous as you are. You don’t think you’ve ever really spoken to Agent Hotchner, save for small ‘hello’s and that one time you apologized for bumping into him. He’s handsome—you’ve always thought so—and, more importantly, he’s basically your boss.
“Let me take a look,” he says, walking over. You step aside, staying out of the way.
“It’s alright,” you start as he looks over it, “I’m sure you have much more important things to do than fix a printer, sir.”
Hotch’s eyes flick over to where you stand, a hand still fiddling with the hem of your skirt, your hair a little messy, your eyes a little wide and worried. You look pretty, he thinks. And sure, he does have things he should be doing instead of trying to fix this printer, but he doesn’t really care.
“Don’t worry about that,” he tells you.
He looks back to the printer, and he seems pretty convinced about trying to help, so you drop it.
While he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to look at his profile. The slope of his nose, the cut of his jaw, the way his brows are pinched a little in focus. It’s unfair, you think, for him to be smart and brave, and be so good-looking on top of it all.
Like he’d heard your thoughts, felt your gaze, he looks over at you again. You turn your eyes toward the floor quickly.
It’s a couple of minutes before anyone speaks. You, staring at the carpet until your vision goes a little fuzzy. Hotch, pushing buttons and flicking switches trying to figure out whatever was going on with the damn printer.
Then, the sound of the ink swiping over the pages, the papers spitting from the printer. You look over at it, mouth slightly parted. What can’t he do?
The sound of your name has your eyes snapping up to his. It’s yet another surprise, him knowing your name. You’re not that important, in the grand scheme of things at the BAU, in the world, really. Someone meant to stay hidden in the background. And still, he knows your name.
“It should be fine now,” he says, grabbing your papers from the cartridge and handing them to you as he stands up straight. “Let me know if it gives you trouble again.”
You grab the pages from him slowly, still shocked at the whole exchange. Your fingers brush against his as you do. “I- Thank you, sir.”
He nods, moving towards the hall. He pauses in the doorway, turning back towards you. “Hotch is fine.”
“Sorry?”
“You keep calling me ‘sir.’ You don’t have to. Just Hotch is fine.”
“Right. Sorry, sir- I mean, Hotch,” you test it out. “Thank you again.”
Yes, Hotch thinks, he likes you saying his name a whole lot more. He sends you a kind smile, “no problem.”
Hotch walks away, probably towards his office where he has very important things to do. Stuff that was surely delayed because he paused to help you. You stare at the doorway for a minute, until you give yourself a papercut and look down at it.
Aaron Hotchner knows who you are.
-
You’re two shitty coffees deep so far, your report open on your desk, the typing bar blinking on the screen of your computer.
There’s pages to go, though you’re not sure how many. You’ve been doing the sort of mindless, robot typing you do when you’re tired. When you’re preoccupied with trying not to glance in the direction of Hotch’s office.
The team got back sometime last night, long after you’d already gone home. From somewhere in Indiana, you think. You’re not sure how they do it, flying about and still coming into the office. You’re tired and you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been on a plane. Add the crime fighting and you’d be a goner.
Blinking yourself from your thoughts, you look back at the blank pages spread out in front of you. It’s not unusual for you to be missing pieces that you need to complete things, it’s just inconvenient. You always end up having to ask someone for the files you need, and then you feel like a burden.
It’s stupid, but in a place full of important people, it’s easy to feel like you’re just in the way.
Anyway, it’s your job, so you push away from your desk and stand, tugging the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.
Your first thought is to go to Reid. As far as friendship goes, you’d consider yourself closest to that definition with him. He’s also the least intimidating of the bunch, probably because you see the most of yourself in him.
You find him in the kitchen with Agent Jareau, both holding their own mugs, probably filled with the same coffee as the one that sits on your desk. You knock gently on the door even though it’s open.
“Hi, sorry to bother you. I was just wondering if either of you have the files from that case you worked a couple weeks back. The one in Ohio,” you shuffle on your feet under their gaze. “I need them for this report.”
“Hey,” Reid speaks first, smiling kindly, “I don’t remember keeping them, but I can double check in my desk if you would like.”
“Oh, that’s okay. You don’t have to do that, I’m sure I’ll find them somewhere.”
You’re about to head out the door when Agent Jareau stops you, “wait, I’m pretty sure Hotch has them. I can go ask him for you.”
It’s silly to feel nervous talking to them, especially when nobody’s ever been anything but nice to you. A little bit of the twist in your gut comes undone.
“No, no. I’ll go ask him if he isn’t busy, thank you though.”
“You should be fine, the door’s open,” she tells you.
You nod, sending the both of them a smile you hope doesn’t look awkward. “Thanks again.”
Their voices picking up their conversation follow you out the door. You cross the space, saying small ‘hello’s to Agent Morgan and Agent Prentiss when they greet you. You try to ignore the prickle of eyes on you as you climb the steps and head to Hotch’s office.
His jacket is draped across the back of his chair, his sleeves rolled up on his forearms. It’s probably the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and he’s only missing a single layer. You look away from his arms when he says your name.
Hotch had his head bent, looking over a case when he’d heard footsteps, and he’d been glad to find you standing in his doorway. You work in the same place, yet he barely sees you. That’s probably why something lightens in his chest every time he does. The rarity, that’s all.
“Is this a bad time?” You ask.
“Not at all,” he leans back in his chair, “what can I do for you?”
“I’m really sorry to bother you, sir-”
“Hotch,” he reminds gently. His voice is easy, a hum that you think would sound good no matter what he was saying.
“Right, sorry. Hotch. I was just looking for some files that I need from a case you guys had for this report.”
“You’re gonna have to be more specific than that.”
Then, he smiles in that way that Aaron Hotchner so often does. A small twitch of his lips, a lift in the corners. One that you probably wouldn’t have caught if you weren’t paying so much attention. One that feels sort of like a gift.
You shake your head at yourself and elaborate, “the Ohio case. Three weeks ago, I think. I asked Agent Jareau, but she said you had them, so…”
Hotch wants to reassure you, but he’s not sure how to do it without standing up and letting himself grab your hand and squeeze it the way he’d like. And he can’t do that, not when you’re already nervous. Not when he’s not sure he could hold back after one touch.
“It’s no problem,” he opens one of his drawers, flips through folders until he finds what you’re looking for.
He stands up and walks around his desk until he’s in front of you, and he lets his gaze flick over your face while he has the chance. Your eyes find his easily, and you hope he can’t hear the catch in your breath.
Aaron isn’t usually so quiet with his affections, but that’s because he’s never found himself feeling this way at work. He wishes your desk was on his way to his office, just so he’d have an excuse to stop and talk to you. He makes sure never to use your favorite mug from the cupboard, just so you’ll be more likely to have it.
Hotch clears his throat, “here they are.”
He holds up the folder between you, his hand holding it loosely, the other hanging by his side. His fingers twitch.
You’re embarrassingly distracted by his exposed forearms, eyes trailing from his hand to the skin of his arm, to the way his shirt is tight where the sleeves are rolled. Then, it’s the color of his tie today, the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows.
His hand reaching for yours is enough to erase everything else. He lifts it and places the folder in your hold for you. Your skin burns even when he pulls away.
“You alright?” He asks. Probably because you’d been staring at him like a weirdo.
Get it together.
“Yeah. Yes, sorry. Just sort of spacey today, I guess.”
When you look back to his face, there’s nothing but a sort of softness in his eyes you can’t identify. He smiles at you, and for the second time, you feel like you’ve won something.
“Is that what you needed?” He asks.
You open the folder and peek inside. You find exactly what you’d been looking for, not that you’re surprised. Hotch knew what you’d meant and you didn’t doubt that.
“It is. Thank you, Hotch,” you grin lightly when you get that part right. “I’ll get out of your way.”
“You’re not in my way.”
Hotch says the words like he’d known you needed to hear them, like he’d known what runs through your mind so often, like he can read you. He probably can, you think. He is a profiler after all.
Still, the words make your heart do a stupid little jump.
“I’ll bring them back when I’m done,” you say.
“No rush. They’ll just be going back in the drawer anyway.”
“Well, thank you again.”
“It’s no problem, really.”
Hotch watches you walk back to your desk with your head down. Looking at the folder in your hand, he thinks, at least it’s an excuse for you to come see him again.
-
Hotch isn’t in his office when you return the files.
Since you can’t thank him in person—assuming he’s off with the team somewhere saving lives—you leave a sticky note on top of the folder. You drop it on his desk and leave before you second-guess yourself and rip the note off.
You can’t help but think that the office feels sort of empty without the team there. Without Hotch there. It’s how it is most days, so you’re not sure why the absence feels so present now. You shake it off.
The day passes by, then your drive home, and the rest of your night, too. Through it all, you can’t stop wondering what Hotch is doing, wherever he is. Hoping he’s safe.
You’re certainly not expecting to see him the next day, back so soon, but you can’t say you’re upset about it. It’s a brief glance, him walking into his office, the rest of the team and their chatter following, but it’s enough to make your work seem less tiring for some reason.
It was a quick case, and Aaron was glad to at least get a couple of hours of sleep in before coming into the office. When he sits at his desk, the first thing he notices is the folder you’ve left there. The small note in your handwriting.
‘Thank you :)’
He peels the note away and folds it up. Without thinking, it ends up tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. It’s a simple piece of paper, but it’s heavy where it sits. He rubs a hand over the pocket where the note is and gets to work.
It’s not until a couple of hours later that Hotch ends up leaving his office. Conveniently, in the direction of your desk.
You’ve been burying yourself in your work, your leg bouncing nonstop, your nose inches away from the pages on your desk, your chair pushed in as close as it’ll go. You have to, because if you take a break, if you look away, your eyes will search for Hotch, and you don’t really want to think about what that means right now.
About the ache in your chest when he’s gone, the urge to go ask him a stupid question just to talk to him. It’s awful.
The pen you’re using suddenly runs out of ink, and it makes you pause long enough to feel a cramp in your hand. You sit up and huff, pulling your drawer open and digging around for another pen. Your name in Hotch’s voice has you shutting the drawer and spinning quickly.
It’s just your luck that your shirt gets caught, that the sound of the rip is too loud to play off or ignore.
“Oh gosh,” you whisper, looking down at the damage.
It’s a cheap shirt, you shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s worse than you’d expected. This is what you get for sitting so damn close. The side seam is split, and if you move too much, your bra would probably be visible.
“This is so embarrassing,” you say, holding the rip shut with one hand and holding the other on your forehead. Of course this would happen to you in front of him.
Aaron’s eyes hover where your skin had been exposed, even now that you hold your shirt shut, wondering if it’d feel as soft as it looks. He can’t even remember what he came over to do or say.
He swallows and looks at your face, “do you have another?”
You shake your head, still hiding behind your hand, “no. I really, really wish I did, though.”
“I have an extra one in my go bag. If you’d like?” He hears himself say the words, and he doesn’t regret them, necessarily, but it’s clear to him that you mess with his brain. He doesn’t think straight where you’re involved.
You peek up at him, dropping your hand to your side. “Are you sure? I could probably just use some paper clips, or something.”
“Nonsense. I’ll go get it, okay? I’ll bring it to the bathroom so you can change.”
“You don’t have to-”
Your name leaves his mouth again, gentle but firm. “I’ll grab it.”
“Okay.”
You speed-walk over to the washroom and walk in, closing the door only to block out the rest of the office, who surely noticed what just happened. You’re probably never gonna live this down.
Your overthinking doesn’t get very far, because after only a minute, Hotch is knocking on the door.
“It’s just me,” he says. ‘Just,’ like that word could ever be used to describe him. “You can just open the door a crack and I’ll pass the shirt through.”
You do as he says, tugging the door open until you can see a white dress shirt (of course) in his hand. You reach out and he hands it to you easily.
“Thank you, Hotch. I’ll wash it and give it back, I promise. Sorry for this.”
“Don’t worry about it.” You can’t see his face, but you can hear the sincerity in his voice. “I mean it.”
“Thanks,” you say quietly, closing the door.
His shirt is wrinkled from being packed in his bag, and the sleeves are long when you put it on, but it smells like him and isn’t ripped so you really can’t complain. You roll the sleeves and tuck the bottom into your pants, looking in the mirror to make sure you look at least a little bit put together.
Holy shit, you think. I’m wearing Aaron Hotchner’s shirt. What world have you been living in recently? To be interacting with him more often, to be feeling this sick skip in your heartbeat whenever you do.
You toss your ripped shirt in the garbage, look up, and huff out a breath before leaving the bathroom. You’re surprised to see Hotch still standing there.
“Oh,” you nearly bump into his chest when you walk out the door, but the warmth of his hand on your shoulder steadies you. “I didn’t know you were still there, sorry.”
“You don’t need to say sorry so much, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart. You’re dreaming, surely. You pinch yourself on the inside of your arm, just in case. You don’t wake up.
“I- um,” you’re fumbling for words because he’s standing there, looking at you softly, calling you ‘sweetheart’ in that voice of his.
Aaron doesn’t know where that came from, but he’s said it and it’s happened. With the way he thinks about you, how often he does, he can’t really be surprised. Besides, seeing you get flustered because of him is absolutely worth it.
“I wanted to thank you for getting those files back to me so quickly.”
Your eyes flick over to his arm, and it’s then he realizes that his hand is still on your shoulder. He pulls it away and stuffs it in his pocket. He’s probably imagining it, but he swears his palm is tingling.
You wipe your hands over your thighs, “right. It was no problem, really. I was mostly done with my report, so… Thanks for giving them to me.”
“I’m glad to be able to help,” he says. Then he walks back to his office.
You’re standing in front of the bathroom for what’s surely an odd amount of time. Even back at your desk, you can’t shake the haze you feel, a pink tint to your vision, a flutter in your gut.
You spend the rest of your day with your nose buried in the collar of Hotch’s shirt, avoiding the gazes of your coworkers around you.
Aaron spends the rest of the day thinking about how you looked in his shirt. About how you’d look in it and nothing else. He drags a hand over his face when that pops into his head.
“You good, boss?” Morgan asks from the doorway.
“I’m fine.” He doesn’t miss the knowing smirk on Morgan’s face.
-
It’s very rare that Aaron leaves work at a reasonable time. So rare that he can’t remember the last time he wasn’t the last person there.
He’s used to the late nights, the empty spaces, deserted desks. Even so, it’s nice to finish up earlier than he’d expected. He looks forward to the extra sleep he’ll get, the longer time frame to decompress.
Leaving work early already felt like a small victory for the day, and he feels like he’s won something bigger when he sees you in your car, still in the parking lot.
You’d left maybe twenty minutes before Hotch, though you’d assumed he’d be leaving hours after you like he usually does. Everything was fine, normal as you bid your goodbyes to your desk neighbors, as you rode the elevator down.
The sun has started setting, and the air gets cooler as it sinks. You fish your car keys from your bag and unlock it, getting in quickly and tossing your bag onto the passenger seat.
You like your job, sometimes you love it, even, but you look forward to going home either way. You think about the warm shower you’ll take, the shitty dinner you’ll end up eating. Your lonely plans are ruined as you twist your car key in the ignition, it sputters and doesn’t start.
“No, no. Come on,” your head falls back, you huff and take the key out.
You try again, and still, no luck. And again, and once more until you’re fed up with it and drop the keys in your lap. Your head is dropped against the steering wheel, allowing yourself a moment of dramatics from your defeat.
A knock on your window startles you upright. Your heart races for reasons other than fear when you look at who it is.
Hotch stands outside, leaning towards your window with a scrunch in his brows. When he catches your eye, he steps back from your door and gives you room to open it and step out.
You shut your car door behind you and lean your back against it, “hi.”
“Hi. Sorry to scare you, but I wanted to check that you were alright?”
“It’s okay,” your arms are folded behind your back, your hands twisting. “Um, it’s nothing, just some car troubles.”
“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”
“I guess not. It won’t start for some reason. I don’t know.” If he wasn’t standing right there, you’d probably smack yourself for how unsure you sound. “You keep catching me at the worst times, Hotch.”
He disagrees. Aaron can’t think of a time where seeing you could ever be a bad thing.
“You’re fine,” he says, his voice suddenly softer, “trust me.”
Despite the bite of the wind outside, the way he speaks warms you. He’s so honest in the way he speaks, in the sense that he sounds sure, even if it isn’t necessarily vulnerable. You don’t know how he does it.
A small smile spreads on your face before you can stop it, “okay, good. And thank you for checking on me. I’ll just call a cab and figure this out tomorrow.”
There’s no way he can let you take a cab. It’s obvious that with what he does, the things he sees, he’d rather know for sure you’d be safe getting home. But then, there’s the sort of floating feeling he has when he’s around you, one he’d like to feel for a little longer if he could.
“Let me drive you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that, really. I’ll be fine.”
He ducks his head a little, catches your eye and holds you with that soft gaze of his. “Please, it’s not a problem. For my peace of mind.”
It doesn’t take much convincing, really. You’d much rather sit in a car that probably smells like him than in the back of a cab that smells like sweat.
“For your peace of mind, then. That’d be great.”
You grab your bag from your car before following Aaron to his, where he opens the passenger door for you and makes sure your legs are tucked inside before shutting it. He jogs around the front of his car and gets in.
“Where am I taking you?” He asks, starting his car. The radio hums softly through the speakers, and Hotch reaches over to turn on the heating when he catches you shivering a little.
You tell him your address, “you don’t have to drive me if it’s out of your way, Hotch. I mean it.”
“It isn’t out of my way,” he assures you, and he could easily be lying, but you accept it anyway.
It’s quiet for a little bit, besides the odd question from Aaron for which way to turn. You take the chance to look at him as he drives, his hands on the wheel, the street lights hitting his face. Your head lulls against the seat.
“You’re finished earlier than usual today,” you say. “Not that I know your schedule, or anything, I just-”
“Sweetheart,” he stops you, a smile spreading. It’s wider than what you’ve seen at work, unguarded enough to show his teeth. It’s really pretty. “It’s alright. It’s work I can be doing at home.”
“That’s good. A change of scenery, at least.”
“Exactly.”
You’re not sure what it is that feels different now, in the car. Maybe it’s because it’s only you and him, no prying eyes in the office, no concerns about what this is, what’s allowed. It might only be you, that feels this sort of spark with him, fizzing i’m the air between you. Either way, you’ll soak it up for the duration of the ride to yours.
Maybe that’s why you’re saying, “you know, I always thought you didn’t even know who I was. Until the printer thing.”
Aaron peeks over at you, leaned in his passenger seat. You look like you belong there, like there’s always been a spot for you in his life. Even when you’d started at the BAU, when he first saw you, he felt like it was right that you were there.
Hell, he’d asked Garcia who you were and has had your name in the back of his head since.
“I’ve always liked you,” he admits. He doesn’t say he’s always known you. Liked.
“Really?” You can’t help but ask. Someone like him even noticing you seemed unfathomable. But liking you? He’s gotta be lying.
“Really. Even when you were bumping into me.”
“You remember that?”
“Yeah, I do. You were looking down at the ground, walking like you were being timed. And you had on this light pink sweater.”
Your eyes go wide, focused on his face. You had been wearing a light pink sweater that day. And he remembers all of that? You think, if you looked at yourself in the mirror right now, your eyes would be in the shape of hearts, pulsing in your pupils.
“I can’t believe you noticed all of that.”
“I notice a lot of things,” he says.
Aaron has always had his guard up around new people, has always made himself more serious at work than anywhere else. Then you came along and he had to fight to keep things that way. It makes sense that the minute he sees you outside of work his walls would crumble to dust.
It was inevitable, really.
“I’ve always liked you, too.” Then, before he can say anything, you point at your building, “it’s this one here.”
The car rolls to a stop slowly, his turn signal flashing as he pulls over by the entrance of your apartment building. He puts the car in park and turns to you fully.
“Thank you for driving me.”
“No problem, sweetheart.”
His hand reaches out before he can really think about it, fingertips featherlight over your cheekbone, sliding over to tuck your hair behind your ear. Then, like it was never there, he pulls back. There’s a glow in his fingers where they’d brushed your skin, golden.
It matches the one you feel on your cheek, sparkling.
“Get in safe, okay?”
“It’s a few feet from here to the front door, Hotch. I’ll be alright.”
He huffs softly, twin smiles on your faces. Lovesick and shy, nervous and pink-hazed all at once.
“For my peace of mind,” he says.
“Fine, then. Your peace of mind,” you reach for the door handle, tugging it and pushing the door open. You look at Hotch again, like you can’t get yourself to stop. “Thanks again.”
“See you, sweetheart.”
“Bye.”
You step out and head to your door, turning around before walking inside to give him a wave. Aaron grins and waves back, watching you walk inside.
He stays parked by the curb until he sees a light flick on a couple of floors up.
-
+1
There’s a reason that Hotch is Unit Chief. He thinks quickly, keeps his head straight even with what he deals with every day. There’s also a reason his leadership has been questioned before, but never revoked.
He can be reckless, throwing himself into situations when he knows he probably should’ve waited for backup. This time, it only got him a split eyebrow and a few stitches. It’s been worse; this is nothing.
It is, however, proving to be an inconvenience. He’d gotten stitched up in the ER of whatever hospital was closest to where the team had caught their unsub. It had to be quick, from the hospital straight to the jet.
They’d told him to clean it up again and put a new bandage on it when he got back, which is what he’s trying to do now, in his office, with his laptop’s grainy camera as a mirror. He has the supplies the hospital gave him on his desk, but he can’t really see what he’s doing, and the task is taking much longer than he’d like.
His hands are a little shaky from the adrenaline of his day, and every time his arm comes up to reach his stitches, it blocks his view.
Then, he sees you walking up to his office.
Usually, you’d already be home by now, but you’d been yourself and messed up some of your paperwork, so you had to stay late to re-do it. When you catch sight of Hotch in his office, you’re not so annoyed with yourself.
You notice the things on his desk, the blood on the front of his shirt. Your feet carry you to his doorway easily. Last time you’d really spoken to him was that night in his car, and ever since, there’s been something boiling, a noticeable shift.
You tap your knuckles on his open door twice, “you okay?”
He gives up on dealing with his cut and looks at you instead, the slightly rumpled state of your clothes from a long day, the smile you wear that doesn’t exactly hide the concern in your eyes, the light from the hallway a halo around you. You’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“I’m alright. Just can't seem to do this right,” he says, gesturing to his eyebrow.
“Do you need help?”
Aaron has never been one to accept help easily, always one to do things on his own. But, when you’re offering so sweetly, when your help means your hands on his skin, how could he ever say no?
“That would be great.”
He pushes his chair back to give you room to stand in front of him. Your legs between his, leaning against the edge of his desk. His knees bump into the sides of your legs, little bursts of the kind of warmth sunlight emits on skin.
You reach for the wipes first, holding them in one hand and reaching up to his eyebrow, the other grasping his chin gently to keep his head steady.
His hand reaches up to hold your elbow. It could so easily be innocent, be almost nothing, but it feels like more. His thumb running back and forth, your face close enough to his to have your breaths mingling. It really feels like more.
“You’re here late,” he says, low and quiet.
“Spilled coffee all over my work. Had to start over. Can you believe it?” You speak just as quietly, eyes flicking from his cut down to his, just for a second.
“I can, actually. You’re sort of clumsy.”
“Hey!” He’s right, of course, but the warm chuckle he lets out is worth your dramatic gasp.
“It’s not a bad thing,” he assures you, squeezing your elbow. “I think it’s cute.”
“Well, thank you, then.”
You set the wipe aside and reach for the bandage next, placing it over his eyebrow and smoothing down the edges with a light touch. When you’re done, you pull back but don’t go far. Your hands fall from his face to grasp the edge of his desk instead.
“All done,” you say.
Aaron’s hands have shifted to your waist. His touch is so delicate, but you’d never ignore it. It might as well be bruising, the way his hands affect you.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Hotch.”
Now would be the time to walk out the door, to say ‘goodnight’ and head home, but you’re in no hurry. Not when his eyes are shining in the dimmed light of his office, soft and practically melting.
They seem to beckon you closer, and though you don’t have a reason this time, your face ends up near his, noses almost touching. It’s as far as you go, afraid you’re misreading things, afraid you’ll be wrong about this.
Hotch closes the space for you.
His chin tilts up, his mouth catching yours softly at first. His hands tighten on your waist, his lips slightly chapped and completely perfect against yours.
You think your knees might buckle, so you put your hands on his shoulders, thumbs digging into his skin, like you’re trying to make sure he’s real. You’re not sure how you manage to kiss him back but you do, and you hear the sharp intake of breath he takes when you push back.
The kiss doesn’t deepen, but it doesn’t have to. You can feel plenty in it already.
It’s not long before Hotch pulls away, leaning back in his chair and tilting his head to look up at you. He removes one of your hands from his shoulder and holds it in his.
“We shouldn’t do this here,” he says, his thumb running over your knuckles.
You look down at your feet, at his legs next to yours. The hand still on his shoulder falls to your side, suddenly feeling nervous.
“You’re right, I’m so-”
“But,” he stops your apology before you can say it. As if you’d ever need to apologize for kissing him. “I’d like to take you to dinner sometime. If you’d want that.”
You look back at his face, eyes searching. He smiles so softly at you, it’s the kind of smile you could only ever give someone you like in this way. Someone you like enough to kiss.
“I’d really like that, Hotch.”
“Good,” he stands, but his hands don’t leave you. “And sweetheart?”
“Hm?”
“Call me Aaron.”
When you test it out, he’s sure of it; his name on your lips is his absolute favorite sound.
thank you so much for reading!!! please please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, it helps a whole bunch more than you’d think and would mean a lot!! <3
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rafeandonlyrafe · 25 days
Text
feeling generous
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words: 1.3k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, dubcon!!, blackmail!!, blowjob, cum eating???, voyeurism, public sex, car crash but like its in a parking lot lol, pogue!/broke!reader
“shit, shit, shit.” you groan, quickly putting the car into drive and moving a few feet, cringing when you hear the crunch of metal coming undone. you throw the car into park and hop out to see your worst fears actualized.
“are you fucking blind?” the shout makes you jump. you didn't even realize that the owner of the car was sat in the driver's seat.
“im-im so so sorry.” you shake your head quickly, surveying the damage. you caught their back bumper with your own, the red paint from their car flaking onto your silver one. “i-i didn't see how close-”
“no shit you didn't see! jesus fucking christ, do you know how expensive this car is?” he shouts, standing to his full height and slamming the car door closed. you don't know how much the car is, but judging by the look of it and the man driving it, certainly not cheap. “this is a custom paint job too.” 
he places his hands on his hips, eyes shifting between glaring at the ruined back end of his car and you.
“insurance and id. now.” he huffs out. “before i call the cops.”
your eyes widen. you have the minimum required insurance, and even that payment is killing you, there's no way you'll be able to afford it if you get an increase for a crash.
“can i pay you out of pocket?” you offer, clearing your throat, trying to keep a level head.
“no way you're able to afford it.” his eyes turn towards your car. it's old, a junker, but gets you around fine enough. and best part, it was free, a hand me down after your grandma bought a newer car.
“i-i probably cant, but i can't afford the insurance increase either and i- we can work something out. please.” you don't care how pathetic it is, you'll get down on your knees in the parking lot if you have to. you're not beyond begging and pleading.
he looks you up and down before grunting, heading back towards his car. your feet spring into action, grabbing onto his wrist, not wanting him to reach for his phone.
“no, please, sir-”
“rafe.” he says, hand twisting so now he's the one holding your wrist. “my name is rafe.”
“oh.” you blink up at him before responding. “my name is y/n”
“you shouldn't have told me.” rafe holds his hand up. “in case i change my mind. you're lucky im feeling generous today.”
“oh my god, thank you so much!” you feel tears well up in your eyes.
“don't thank me yet, darling.” his gaze turns dark as he looks down at you, only now realizing how tall he is, how he towers over you.
“what do you mean?” you question.
rafe takes your hand gripped tightly in his fist, turning it and bringing it down to place it on his crotch. your eyes widen when he moves your fingers back and forth over his shorts, stroking along your length.
“i- what are you doing?” you try to pull your hand away, but he's holding on too tightly.
“it's either this or we can get insurance involved.” rafe looks at you, the shiny lip gloss smeared over your mouth. you may be a broke pogue, but your mouth should be good enough to please him, to ease some of the tension from getting his car hit.
“im not a prostitute.” you say, certainly not meaning this when offering to work something out.
“yet you're gonna get on your knees and suck me off. or i call the cops.”
“right here?” you look around the parking lot. it's pretty empty, but it's the middle of the day, the sun shining down on you, making the illicit act obvious to anyone who looks between where your two cars are parked.
“yeah.” he shrugs, pressing your hand harder into his crotch. he's obviously hard, seemingly almost painfully so.
you look back to the damage, the cherry red color that you're sure isn't stock, and then sink down to your knees. rafe smirks down at you as he drops his hand away from your wrist, light purple bruises already forming.
you gulp and resolve yourself to what you're about to do, tugging at his zipper before undoing the button on his shorts. you open up the flaps, eyes widening when you take in his length through his underwear.
rafe chuckles before pushing the elastic down to pull his cock out, exposing it to the warm summer air.
“suck.” he simply commands.
you open your mouth, taking an experimental lick at his tip, surprised that the taste isn't completely repulsive. you lick again before wrapping your lips around the head of his cock.
“come on.” he spurs you on. “do it good or ill cum in your mouth and still make you pay.”
the threat has you moving quickly, sinking down onto his cock, closing your eyes so you don't have to see rafe looking down at you. he may be attractive, but you're still getting forced to do this. 
“ahh, that's good.” he groans as you set a quick pace, bobbing your head up and down. you pray no one pulls into this part of the parking lot or looks your way. you'd be absolutely mortified to be seen on your knees for a man in the middle of the day, not even going into his car to suck him off.
rafes hands grip your hair, pulling them into two makeshift pigtails.
he lets you stay in control for a while longer before he gets sick of you sucking him off however you please. he shoves his hips forward, causing you to gag when his cock buries deep in your throat.
rafe doesn't give you time to recover, thrusting while holding your head still by the hair, tears now streaming down your eyes as he pushes in then out, in then out.
“fuck, you're actually good.” rafe chuckles. just his luck the dumb bitch who hit his car gives good head, your throat tightening as you swallow around him with every thrust.
you feel the combination of drool and tears drip down your chin, hoping rafe cums soon so this can end.
you place your hands on his thighs as your knees dig into the pavement. your jeans are going to be completely ruined by the time rafe is done with you, but at least you'll have money to buy a new pair.
you feel rafes cock swell in your mouth, your eyes widening to look up at him, the sun behind his head, illuminating him in a perfect halo, but he's no angel.
rafe pulls his cock out before he can cum. you stick your tongue out, knowing exactly what to expect as rafe strokes himself quickly, moaning as if he doesn't care about being seen as his cock shoots out ropes of white cum onto your face and awaiting tongue.
he taps the tip against your tongue, smearing it through the mess of white. “kiss it.”
it's humiliating, but not any more than what just happened. you pucker your lips and press a kiss to the tip of his cock, seeing that it's already beginning to soften.
rafe tucks his cock back in as you pant on the ground, hands coming to your thighs as you try to gain composure.
“hey.” rafes voice has you looking back up, your eyes widening when you see he's got his phone now, taking a picture of your disheveled state, face still covered in his cum.
“what was that for?” you shout.
“part of your repayment in case you ever try to go back on our agreement.” you understand what rafe means. in case you try to tell anyone he forced you into it.
rafe smiles when the look of acceptance sinks into your features as you resign to your fate. he bends down, looking you in the eye before his tongue presses against your jaw, dragging up your cheek, tracing the trail of your tears, not caring that he also tastes his own cum on his tongue. 
“see you around.” he smirks, swallowing your tears dramatically as he gets into his car, speeding away before you even get your knees off the ground.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @rafeyslove @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeyisthelastname @pradabambie @tobesolovelysstuff @alexiskirkland @rafestar @brioffthegrid @juniebugg @magicalyoura @cokepewpsii @mysticallystilinski @luvdella @aerangi @vogueprincess @auryyz @mayhem-72 @thestarlithideout @marvelfanfics1recs @rafesgiirl @ditzyzombiesblog @chiaraanatra @tobiaslut
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sashi-ya · 7 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 12: DRY HUMPING Trafalgar Law 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
Requested by: @hirsheyskisses ➡ Can we get a 12 (dry humping) w trafalgar law from one piece? tw: mdni. dry humping. getting all touchy touchy at the convenience store. continuing it in the car. vag sex implied. wc: ~ 800 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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First time together… getting to know each other’s bodies. it starts slow, with a little bit of shame on each other’s cheeks. it follows certainly full of lust, of passion. And just one night is not enough. And you want more, more and more…
“Law… I want you now ~” you joke in the middle of the supermarket. You have drained him; it’s been a full weekend of sex. A new relationship with your tattooed surgeon was blooming, and you discovered the joy of getting in bed with him.
“I just fucked you, Name-ya” he whispers, a little bit cranky because of how tired he is. Law was up for buying food, but never thought you wanted more even while at the convenience store.
“Well… I want more… are you that weak?” you joke, giggling and jumping away from him. Your skirt flows from side to side, gracefully. And it also lets a little bit of your panties peek through as you bend over to pick a bento box.
Law opens a can of Redbull and chugs it violently. He then walks up to you, placing himself behind you and bending slightly over to cover you up.
“(Name)-ya… giving the fact that you are that horny, grab that thing and let’s go home” he grunts in your ear, gropping you with what you immediately recognize as his hard sex.
You stiffen up, pushing your ass against his crotch and grab whatever bento you could pick. “Right away, sir!” you chime, happy to be railed very soon -hopefully in the car if he can’t wait.
Soon after, and with him slapping your hand as you try to touch him while he pays, you are out of the convenience store.
“Get inside that car, you horny brat” he scolds you. “Oh- OH WHERE DID THAT COME FROM? Are you my daddy now~?” you tease him, with your finger in your mouth as you wait for him to unlock the door.
Law takes his inked hand to his face, covering almost all his façade but his deep silver eyes. He takes some seconds to look at you, pondering whether his girlfriend has always been a nymphomaniac.
“Get inside and I will show you…” he grunts.
You watch him walk with those ragged skinny jeans, thankful for the man destiny gave you. And then, once he gets inside, you do too.
“So…?” you purr, bending forward to the drivers seat. Your hand landing on his thigh, your eyes burning holes on his lined ones.
“So what, (Name)-ya? Come here, are you that needy? Then sit on my lap and hump until you come. I am limiting myself to drive” he explains, leaving you startled. But in any case, you are sure some humps will lead him to stop the car in the middle of the street to finally fuck you. No big deal.
“A’ight. Make me some space then” you immediately answer, and he gasps… Law wasn’t expecting for you to do it… he should have known better.
He has no other choice but to let you sit on top of his lap. He is a very responsible driver; this will be hard for him. But maybe not as hard as he gets when he can feel the warmth weight of your hips pressed against him.
You let him move the car first, and as he begins to drive you begin to move. First back and forth, and then tracing circles with your hip. You don’t mind about anything, but for your clit to properly rub against his black jeans.
Law tries to hold his little grunts back, but it’s almost impossible as you seem to know exactly how to move to stimulate his hardness.
“Nhhh… (Name)-ya… fuck” he swears, using his free hand to pinch your belly. Maybe he wants you to stop, but maybe he doesn’t want you to… maybe he wants for you to go faster, or harder…
“What babe? I really like this, I really like humping on your dick!” you whine, loudly as he stops on a red light. It’s late at night, but still there are several cars around, and you don’t mind if other’s see you two.
Law squeezes your breasts, he probably is gonna get into a car accident if he keeps watching them bounce on the reflection of the slightly fogged windshield.  
“Keep going and you are gonna make me cum in my pants…” he sighs, not sure if he wants it or not.
You smirk, because you weren’t planning on stopping. Not because he was coming, not even because you are about to…
“I am coming, daddy ~” you playfully moan, feeling Law’s hip buck up almost immediately. He takes a quick look through all of the mirrors and pulls over on the side of some roads close to your home.
“Not until I fuck you hard, lift your ass come on” “Of course, daddy ~”
After all, you get what you wanted... to get fucked, rough, right there in the car 🤭
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taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️
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yuri-is-online · 6 months
Note
Azul totally has an octopus and shrimp plush that he makes kiss.
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Who? How? Usually when I get an ask I know where it comes from (or why anyway) but this time I just looked at my phone and got hit by a bus. But you know what annon? You are so right, he totally does.
notes: they/them used for Yuu, Azul engages in some SSS tier simping (shrimping?), once again this is a joke but I am not taking cold meds this time! Please look at my masterlist for more serious works.
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Plush toys do not exist in the ocean, the concept of them was something Azul had been made aware of in his research and made note of in land training camp. But of course, as was the case with more things than he would ever admit to outside of a court order, Azul failed to grasp just how ubiquitous and popular plushies were. He had even been gifted an octopus plush as a prize during one of the first Board Game Club events he attended, something he had intended to brush off as childish until he saw the way his club mates reacted, even if he didn't understand why himself the little guy was clearly an enviable prize. A claim made less believable with how he hadn't let Floyd squeeze it, or Jade poke at it, and he certainly had not agreed to give it to Idia no matter how much he had begged.
The shrimp plush had been a... strategic purchase. No really, if anyone asked he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for why he had bought this specific plush that he had to go out of his way to find, order, and watch out for to make sure that Jade didn't bring it to him with the rest of his mail. The Mostro Lounge was always going to expand to have a merch store, and since plush toys were so popular with humans it made sense to have some! He just needed to ensure this particular brand was of a high enough quality to commission-
No one was going to buy that excuse. All the more reason to keep this little indulgence a secret, even if the seller had been confused by his request for discreet packaging.
"It's just a plush sir?" To them maybe, to him this is a painful sign that he should just say something already but he needs to plan for that and this should help. The two plushes certainly look natural enough together, Azul has seen pictures of some beds that have a bunch of little guys set up on them and he's beginning to see the appeal. Maybe he should get two eels? Smaller than the shrimp, obviously, it's the only way the real ones will ever let him live it down. But by thinking that he is sort of acknowledging who the little shrimp is supposed to represent. And they're sitting next to him in his bed.
He takes back his previous thought, Azul has no idea how humans sleep with things that remind them of the objects of their affections, it's filling his mind with situations.  He props himself up against the headboard, holding both plushies close to his face so he can see them without his glasses.
“I was so lonely.” Azul is incapable of picturing him otherwise.  “I really missed you.”  He sniffles, and the little shrimp jumps to comfort him.
“I missed you too!”  The little shrimp is friends with the octopus?  Azul has no idea when that happened he just got them today-  “Let’s never be apart again ok?”
“Do you really mean that?”  The little octopus tentatively reaches out one of his stubby tentacles towards the shrimp, who takes it happily.  “I don’t want to let you go…”
“You don’t have to.” comforts the little shrimp. “We can get married and do our laundry and taxes together forever and you won’t ever have to be lonely ever again.” 
And that is apparently when Azul decides to come back to his senses, just as he is halfway through humming a wedding march and making the plushies kiss.  He remembers himself enough to keep them from dropping to the floor, but they still fall to his side as he collapses back onto his pillows redder than a boiled lobster.
Maybe he should just… give the little shrimp over to Yuu.  And make some actual progress on that laundry and taxes bit.
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ghostsy · 5 months
Text
Smile For the Camera
WARNINGS: yandere, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, abuse of power, slight codependency, non-consensual implications, implied nsfw, implied forced pregnancy, lot of implications lol
A/N: been sitting in the drafts for a while, figured i should get smth out, hopefully it's alright ^^
read at your own discretion.
yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER
“Her eyes are up there, creep.”
She had to resist the urge to sigh, lip twisting in slight pity, watching the boy stammer out an apology as he fumbled with the mic at her chest. She scoffed internally. Was he supposed to put it on blindfolded? She turned to her lover, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile.
It’s okay. I’m okay.
Crimson irises met her own, hesitating a bit as his jaw tightened reflexively. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes, and turned to the host who was shuffling through her cue cards. Memorizing her lines, it seemed.
“I don’t want any of that surprise shit, alright?” His voice was laced with the sort of irritation that would normally send her on full alert. They were in public right now, though, and callous, gruff reputation aside, he was no idiot, “We’ll walk out; I’m not fuckin’ kidding, we’ve done it before.”
The host laughed out his name–his hero name–nervously, “Of course not, sir. All of our questions were sent to your assistant for prior approval,” As she caught his unimpressed stare, she stumbled out another placation, “But, I mean–Of course, if you–you’re more than welcome to look over them again, sir.”
“Fuckin’ stop it with that–‘sir’--makes me feel old as shit.” Did it? That was news to her. He certainly liked it when it came from her lips. Her mind wandered to its most recent recollection. When she was forced to her knees, his hand at the back of her neck, pooling the tears from her eyes at the dip where her cheek met the pillow–she couldn’t remember what she’d done wrong that time. 
Where he’d brought his lips to her ear,  C’mon, voice rough and deep, Ask me nicely, now, And, raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, Please, sir. He huffed out an ugly laugh, Please give me your cock, sir. God, she hadn’t been able to walk straight for days, legs and dignity sore and bruised from the abuse–only one of which ever really seemed to recover.
“Of course, si–Of course. We’re on in–We’ll be ready in five, if that’s alright?” He gave the woman a curt nod, and she’d shuffled off to the stage to prepare, calling the intern tending to her to follow, a direction the boy took with palpable relief, eyes brushing her own apologetically before he hurried off.
“Hey,” The blonde’s attention was turned back to her, and he stalked forward, “Last one, alright?” He brought his hand to her cheek in comfort, though all she could think of was the ease at which he could snap her neck between his fingers without so much as blinking.
She shook herself from her thoughts, humming, and brought her hand to cup his own, leaning into his touch. “It’s alright,” At least I’m outside, she wanted to say, “Long as I’m with you, I’m alright.”
His eyes softened at her answer, and he opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed, catching his attention. His hand dropped to catch her own, lacing their fingers together, tightening with tension. She had to resist the urge to wince. Though entirely different in circumstance, she felt slight vindication for his fear, no matter how fleeting. She’d take what little wins she could get. 
She was pulled back to reality by the tug of his hand, and let him lead her to the couch across from the host. Fuck. Looking out at the crowd, she remembered how much she really did hate these things. Hundreds of smiling faces, millions more behind the camera, all glinting with pity–for all the wrong reasons–and cooing at the sickeningly sweet story spun for the masses to cling to with glee, without question.
There was a call of her name, “And, how are you adjusting? After what you’ve been through,” What she’s been through. She suppressed a bitter laugh. As if it was all over, as if she was safe. 
“It’s been hard, of course,” She’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror, and recited variations in numerous interviews before, “But I’m so grateful, you know,” That didn’t stop the tears that fought their way up her throat, “To have him by my side–he really is–he really,” God, the words felt like acid on her tongue, “He really is my hero.”
The crowd awed, and the host brought a hand to her chest, “How beautiful,” She caught his side eye–suspicious–and she squeezed his hand in reassurance, “The two of you–really the silver lining in an otherwise horrible happenstance.”
She laughed lightly, ignoring the burn in her chest, “I’m so grateful. I don’t know what–I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him.” She moved to wrap her arm around his own, leaning into his shoulder. Time had conditioned the contact to feel like a sort of comfort.
The host smiled, and turned back to ask him a question, something about how he’d found her, how he’d saved her.
How had he found her? She remembered meeting him a few times before–she’d worked for the number one hero, his childhood friend–and he’d never spared her more than a cursory glance, and the exchange of brief, formal pleasantries while she sat in on their meetings, transcribing, taking notes, just doing her job. 
“Was just doin’ my job,” Ha. Ironic. “S’what heroes do.” He looked at her for a moment, softly, and she wanted to tear his eyes out, “We save people and we fuckin’ win.” He gave his signature sharp, crooked smile, and the audience roared to life, hands clapping in misguided awe and appreciation.
How had he found her? What did she have that the millions of men and women and people that wanted him–that dreamed of him–didn’t? She wished she could erase it–tear out whatever part of her had captured his attention–maybe he’d have left her alone if she’d been able to kill it.
“The determination, the grit it must’ve taken,” The host started up again, “Years of searching, it’s truly amazing how you managed to save her.” 
How had he saved her? He liked to remind her that that’s what he had done. She remembered being called into work late–a normal occurrence, but she still cursed herself for obliging that day–being met, not by her boss, but him. Maybe she would have said yes if he’d gone about it differently–if he’d taken her out on a date, brought her flowers, spoke to her softly and gently–but he wasn’t ever soft, and he wasn’t ever gentle.
“M’not a fuckin’ pussy, that’s how. I ain’t backin’ down from a challenge just ‘cause it’s hard.” Yeah. He never backed down from a challenge. Though, he never stopped to think that maybe a challenge was not a dare, not something to overcome, that maybe the challenge didn’t want to be a challenge at all. That this challenge didn’t want to be a conquest, that she wanted to be a person.
“And you,” The attention was back on her, “How strong you are,” She hated that look; everyone she met these days gave her that look, “The fear and pain you must’ve endured is unimaginable.” Well, she was half right, she supposed. 
She was stupid to think she knew pain before–she didn’t know pain–not the kind of pain she’d come to call home these past years. The type of pain that came in the form of finger shaped burns, and ugly sticky white staining the inside of her thighs. The type of pain that was loud and angry and all consuming, that bruised her hips, rubbed her throat raw, left her aching and shaking and breaking. The type of pain that took and took and took until there was nothing left of her to give–and yet, still took more.
“Hopefully there’s some consolation,” The woman continued at her silence, “That the people who did this to you–who imprisoned you–have faced justice.”
She wanted to laugh until she screamed. She’d long been disillusioned with the idea of justice. Justice. Ha. What a joke. She’d made her peace with the hand she’d been dealt. Resigned herself to what cruel fate the god she didn’t believe in had bestowed upon her. Why then, why now, had he graced her with a window to her prison? She knew why. Subconsciously, her hand fell to trace along her stomach.
“It’s…relieving, to say the least.” She forced a laugh, and caught a look she took as approval on her warden’s face. “All I want to do now is settle down, move on…” She swallowed. Come on. You’ve done this a million times. “Start our family.”
He took his arm from her grip to wrap around her shoulders, flashing a sharp smile, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Her cheeks heated–more from annoyance than embarrassment–but the crowd awed all the same. “Strongest damn person I’ve ever met.”
Strong? That was a new one. Usually she’d get the opposite; weak, helpless, quirkless. Was she strong? She could find a million reasons to contradict the idea. Someone strong would’ve fought, would’ve kicked and screamed and cried until someone–anyone–listened to her, until she truly was free. She’d rolled over and shown her belly so easily, hadn’t she?
No. She did fight. She’d gone through all the kicking and screaming and crying she could. But the years had worn her down. She found it was easier–and less painful–to let him have his way. He could be soft when he had his way; he could be gentle when he had his way; she decided she liked it when he was soft and gentle. And so, he had his way.
Still. Someone, not her, could make the case that she couldn’t be strong at all, to go along with this farce. And to this person she’d point them to–
“The Hero Commission truly is an outstanding institution,” The universe had a sick sense of humor, didn’t it? “To keep a case like this–no leads–open so long,” The host smiled a smile with too many teeth, “We are so lucky to have the protection from such noble leaders.”
He replied, something about heroes and how great and strong and infallible they were. She was too busy fantasizing about how lovely the world would’ve been had it been turned to ash and dust all those years ago. 
Because, honestly. How bad could the villains be? If it was a hero that had imprisoned her. A hero who had stolen her from her life and raped her and impregnated her all in the name of love. How bad could the villains be if it was the heroes who kept her trapped in this joke of a life? She decided she liked villains more than heroes. At the very least, they owned up to their crimes. 
She turned to look at him, his sharp features, built like a tank, and yet, still entirely too pretty for the devastation he had wrought upon her. She couldn’t tell if he was a hero or a villain. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or if she loved him. 
“I ain’t into all that sappy shit,” He started, “But, end of the day, I’m the luckiest fucker in the world havin’ her here with me. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”
Both? Maybe it was both. Could you hate someone you loved? Could you love someone you hated? He lifted his arm to ruffle her hair, and she decided it didn’t matter. She’d long resigned herself to this fate; what was another resignation?
“No,” She turned as the audience roared to life, “Not a single thing.”
And she smiled for the camera.
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c0mbatchameleon · 2 months
Text
@jegulus-microfic March 12, prompt: retire, words: 953
Aka optometrist reg au (part 1? maybe) loosely based off of this post
James is having trouble breathing.
The problem is, he can’t quite remember how to do it right now. His brain, rather impressively, emptied of all of its contents the moment the optometrist opened the door.
Right off the bat, the man had been straight to business; swift stride into the room, eyes glued to the clipboard in hand, a curt “hello” and introduction before he sat down and uncapped a pen with his goddamn teeth. James could only stare dumbly, mouth agape as he stumbled over half-sentient responses to the all routine eye exam questions (“See okay with your current prescription?” A black curl falling over the doctor’s otherwise perfectly framed face, cheekbones carved by the sea, like stones.
“Uh huh.”
“Taking any current medications?” Beautiful silver-blade eyes meeting his expectantly.
“Uh-“ James coughing and clearing his throat, “no. No medications.”)
Now, he's at least regained his ability to form sentences. But as James watches the doctor fiddling with machinery, silver rings glinting in harsh, sterile lighting, he is finding immense difficulty in breathing like a normal human being.
“So,” James begins, leaning to rest his elbow on the table and swelling his chest ever-so-slightly. He does his best to smooth out his voice as he speaks, going for casual with just a sprinkling of something sultry. “Dr. Black, did you say it was?” He may not be able to fully function but God help him if he can’t still flirt.
The doctor's eyes flick up for only a split second, but James counts it as a win. “That’s correct.” He maneuvers what looks like an avant-garde torture contraption towards where James is sitting. “Rest your chin on the platform.”
James does as he’s told, holding back from an absurd urge to respond with a Yes, sir. He's definitely not conjuring a medley of alternate scenarios in his head in which Dr. Black orders him around. “And what might your first name be?”
“It might be of no relevance to the matter at hand, Mr. Potter.”
“Call me James, please.”
Regulus sits on the other side of the torture-machine and begins turning dials. “You should see a red X on the right side, James,” he replies flatly. Still, the sound of his name on the man’s tongue is fucking intoxicating. It's echoing around his skull--James James James JamesJamesJames--he wants to hear it a million more times, every minute of every day until his last.
James usually hates these appointments. Hates the big machines he has to stick his face in, blowing air and shining bright lights in his eyes. Hates that stupid picture of the house that they make him look at a million times over while some old man who looks just about ready to retire asks “One or two?”
But Dr. Black is not some old man.
He’s new—James has been coming here for years and has certainly never been graced with the sight of this angel-fallen-to-earth before. He's young, too; despite the way he carries the poise of a man with years of experience under his belt, cool and confident and collected, there’s no way Dr. Black is old enough to be more than a couple years out of school. All sharp edges and smooth skin.
And god, his skin. It looks impossibly soft, stretched over slender hands and freckled cheeks, strong nose and cut jaw. As James runs his eyes hungrily over the landscapes of peach-pale skin--hills and valleys spanning the doctor's face and neck and fingers and knuckles--he considers how easy it would be to reach out and touch it, find out for himself if it's really as smooth as it looks.
“James,” Dr. Black's voice cuts sharp through his fantasy, one brow raised where he's clearly caught James drooling over him. “Please look into the eyepiece.”
It’s not like James can help it. He’s a bit entranced by the way the doctor maintains such a stoic expression, posture rigid and cold eyes unwavering, especially now. It’s all the beauty of a pointed blade, glittering in the sunlight, begging to draw blood.
But James doesn’t miss the light blush now in full bloom across the man’s cheeks. Silver-clad fingers have begun tapping a sporadic pattern on the table as storm cloud eyes sweep down and back up James' face, quick as a flash of lightning, and isn’t that just curious? Suddenly, James wants to know what it would take to get that stone-cold cast to crack.
He shoots back a sly grin. “Sure thing, nameless doctor.” He looks into the contraption. “Oh would you look at that. A red X.”
The doctor lets out a muted sigh. He fidgets some more with the dials and buttons on the other side of the machine as James watches the X shift in and out of focus. He breaks the silence only when it's stretched for just a moment too long. “My name is Regulus. There’s gonna be a bright flash now.”
Immediately, a blinding white light flashes directly into his eye, burning a goddamn hole into his field of vision. He swears he can see the inside of his pupil for a moment.
But James doesn't care. Once the shock subsides, he finds himself grinning ear-to-ear.
Now we're getting somewhere.
He looks back up from the eyepiece to where the doctor, Regulus, is still intently focused on the computer and equipment. Evading James' gaze. Cheeks still pink.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Regulus.”
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satansindexfinger · 1 year
Note
Hc of The brothers and accidental kiss
Note: Thanks for the request! I'm a sucker for these ahshd
Warnings: none
Summary: You leaned over the demons shoulder, intending on handing him a report/class notes. You called his name while doing so, naturally prompting him to turn his head your direction... only for your lips to connect due to the miscalculation of distance between your faces.
Fluff; GN! MC, Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeous;Beelzebub; Belphegor
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Lucifer
Oh.
O h. Lucifer certainly didn't expect to meet your lips when he was about to thank you for handing the paperwork. He had been too engrossed in his work to notice where you were situated.
Aside from his pupils dilating, he makes no visable reaction. Expects you to be the first to separate from the kiss. Definently not because he's internally flustered beyond belief and stuck in place. No sir.
Once you pull away his eyes will linger on you for a few beats, taking in your expression; you liked that, right? Your face is adorable when you're flushed like that. It takes Lucifer every bit of will he has not to let his own blush show.
Has the nerve to appear completely unbothered and even smirk.
"Well.. that was unexpected. I must say, I am kind of dissappointed - it wasn't a proper kiss. How about we try that again, if you don't mind? Come closer."
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Mammon
It takes a moment for Mammon's brain to send him signals about what's happening. As soon as it does, this man is shooting backwards so fast he trips over air and falls on his back.
An absolute mess. Stuttering, blushing, covering his mouth, the whole nine yards. His fingers keep trailing on his lips, you notice. Cannot look you in the eyes to save his life.
"W-what's the big idea, sneakin' up on me like that?! Scared the crap outta me.. give me a warnin' n-next time, ya dumb human! How bold can ya get, doin' that to me?!"
Mammon, you're the one who turned.
Once he's calmed down he gets back up and makes an attempt to face you again. Albeit with a blush going up his ears and fingers still on his lips; as if he's savoring your exchange.
"No fair.. I wanted our first kiss to be special, damnit. So this one doesn't count, okay?!"
Immediate regret felt and tantrum thrown after he realizes what he just said.
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Leviathan
If you thought Mammon had a freakout... oh boy. Levi is ten the times embarrassed and overreacting. Looks like he's committed every possible crime; he's that emotional about it.
Both hands covering his overly red face, speech too frantic for you to understand aside from a few 'sorry's and some self deprecating comments.
The situation reminds Levi of a certain anime and that only makes him more flushed, and somewhat wistful. He liked it, dont get him wrong! He just thinks you might have not appreciated it like he did.
Please reassure him. The avatar of envy needs it as to not regret it for the rest of his life.
"A-are you sure it's okay? I mean, we just k-kissed, y'know?! This kind of thing only happens in my fantasy world.. wait, h-hold on, I didn't mean-"
Has trouble looking you in the eyes after that little incident. Keeps the memory of it close to his heart though, and always will.
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Satan
It takes him off guard for about two seconds. In those two seconds he debates on whether he should deepen the kiss, since it's something he's been wanting for awhile, or if he should pull away. He decides on the latter as he wants to confirm your feelings (if you have any) before doing that.
"Ah.. sorry about that. I didn't realize you were that close."
Treats it like it's no big deal, but his heart it hammering inside his chest. And you don't miss the faint blush on his cheeks as he coughs in his hand in an attempt to change topic.
Thanks you for the notes and makes casual conversation, hoping to change the mood and pretend the kiss never happened.
Satan's eyes seem to, unconsciously, trail towards your lips when he's talking to you for the next week or so.
Try as he might he cannot forget that brief moment and will bring it up to you, asking if you liked it and if you'd rather get a proper kiss from him.
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Asmodeous
Surprised as he is, Asmo wastes no time in keeping your lips pressed just a second longer than would be considered accidental. It's his way of enticing you, hoping you liked the taste of him enough to ask for more.
Pretends to be shocked, squealing and giggling like a high school girl. All the while teasing you like
"Oh, sorry honey! Then again.. was it really an accident~? It's okay to admit you just wanted to kiss me! I would never deny you that. You were so sneaky with it too~ Ahh, it's adorable!"
You'd think the avatar of lust doesn't think much of it.. if it weren't for all the situations he'd tried to get both of you into where just a turn of his head would result in you "accidentally" kissing again.
Is honestly flabbergasted you don't intentionally seek out his lips after that! Maybe he should try harder to captivate you next time~
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Beelzebub
It takes you pulling away sharply for Beel to realize what had just happened. He's a bit frozen in place, the hands holding his snacks at a standstill while a faint blush decorates his face.
"Ah, sorry... thanks for the homework, MC."
His face doesn't return to its normal colour the rest of the day. He apologizes again if he's made you uncomfortable, even if it was an accident and he had no way of predicting it.
It is kind of a problem for Beel.. he enjoyed the taste of your lips, brief as it was, more than any kind of food he'd put past them. He's hungry in a way he didn't even conceive before.
But Beel is respectful. Will not bring the incident up until you do, and if you do he will make it known he enjoyed it.
"Sorry again, MC. It's just... I want more. You don't have to kiss me again if you don't want to but.. Could you?"
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Belphegor
Tries to appear unbothered and apathetic but the colour on his cheeks, going all the way up his ears gives his true feelings away. He cannot meet your eyes too, trying to distract himself.
"Jeez... thanks for the papers, but you didn't have to get all close like that. What if I butted my head on yours? You'd probably be crying instead of giving me the face you are right now."
Belphie, you can't even see their face with how you refuse to look at them-
Waves his hand in an attempt to dismiss you and assures you he's got whatever it is he needed the notes for.
Although as soon as you make your move to leave, Belphie is giving you a confused look and tugging at your sleeve.
"Really? You're gonna pretend this didn't happen and just leave me like that? I don't think so. Either tell me what you thought about it or just.. let me redo it."
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defectivefanboy · 1 year
Note
Hi darling! How are you? How have you been? Sorry for bothering, I wanted to request! You really write very well and keep up with the good work! So anyways.. Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their girlfriend wear a lingerie?
Thank you so much! Have a lovely day/night!!
   ∧_∧::
(´・ω・`)::
/⌒ ⌒)::
/へ__ / /::
(_\\ ミ)/::
| `-イ::
/ )::
// /::
/ /::
( く:::
|\ ヽ:::
Imma go ahead and ignore that icky word that's in there and make it S/O because I want to write Alastor. Here is my request page for anyone who wants to in the future. Please take a read before you come into my inbox :D
Can I request smut for Alastor, Lucifer & Crimson reacting to their [REDACTED] wearing lingerie?
Overall notes: Stories written on this blog are GN until specified. While this story uses they/them pronouns, and while I don't mind female readers on my blog/interacting, love my girlies, hey girlies~, but I do not write female reader, and if you are a fetishizer. fuck off??? ew. How would you even do that on an x reader???
C/W: NSFW topics, Each character will have their own respective warnings, Sexual content, duh, no pronouns used, Bottom! reader favored, Established relationships. OOC?, I mean this would never happen, so yeah ooc
Notes: the giggle I had to stop when I got to Alastor good god, but Lucifer was honestly the funniest and most enjoyable to write. I had a smile on my face the whole time
Crimson ♧︎...
C/W: Slight Voyeurism (mention of his right hand man Alessio), Degradation, he def has a sir kink, don't lie to me, mention of stealing/sugarbaby (hes an asshole) mention of stalkers? admirers?? idk he just mentions people leaving you gifts,
For being an old (mafia) man. He's not opposed to a little dress up
Only if its you though. He would NEVER
He would be into something with a little more class.
Never will his darling look like some 2 cent floozy
So none of that crotchless bull honky. While he wouldn't be mad at it, he would rather leave more to the imagination. Something to work for, y'know?
And he would certainly work for it.
You really wanna get him going? Accentuate your hips. That's something him and Moxxie can agree. They like their darling with a little bit of width~
If you are gonna wear something for him, you best put on a show while you're at it.
He waits to do business after dinner, so why not let him enjoy his meal
For an asshole he has some manners now
Always making you cum once or twice before even taking your outfit off.
It likes to wait before unwrapping his gift <3
But once he gets more accustom to your interest
He's definitely going to be the one buying you the set
well its his money that's being used, Al is the one who goes and picked them up. Poor baby...
"You're so needy, baby. But did you need to go and make yourself out to be a whore in the middle of a meeting?" Crimson said as he placed a hand on your waist. His desk might not be the most comfortable place, but it will do for now. It's not like he can ignore you when you got all dolled up for him.
"I don't remember buying this one. Alessio leaving you gifts now too?" His fingers slid under the thin fabric as you let out a soft whine before answering, "I got them,.. custom made, sir." you said, trying to steady your breathing as his hands wandered between your legs. You let out a yelp as he spreads your legs out more for himself.
"And where are you getting this money from, huh? Hope you're not stealing it from me, brat." He gives you a soft glare and a questioning look as his eyes scan over the fabric that covered you, before his spotted the embroidered 'C. Knolastname' on the front of the waist band. With his index finger and thumb, he hooked them around the band and traced the deigned. Crimson gives you a smirk and placed a kiss right under your belly button before moving down.
"Hmm... maybe i do have a use for that ring then after all, but i should repay this favor before hand. Right, (Y/n) Knolastname?"
Lucifer 𓅰...
C/W: light choking, another one with a superiority kink, mentions of god (he calls himself it), size kink for the fact I thought this man was like 5'8-10 come to look up his like 6'2-3, slight crack fic (because he wouldn't take anything seriously until truly needed, he giggles when you change in front of him, it's always a crack fic with him)
HE HAS A MATCHING SET!!
god how my perception of these characters have been warped
but he has most definitely bought you outfits before, probably the only one to go out of his way to get matching ones.
Even got a few custom ones made, you can always tell by the little duck embroidered somewhere on them.
He's game for anything you wanna wear. He isn't gonna stop you, if anything he's gonna encourage you to wear more.
He's helpless for you in such a pretty outfit and it's all for him?
He feels loved and he's sure to pay that back ten fold in the bedroom.
You might not allowed to be in heaven, but he can show you what it was like~
I maaay..be a bit delusional, but in private I feel like he's all giggly and shit.
Oh an he definitely was the first time you pulled this from your hat of tricks.
Almost a little to giggly i'd sat, to think the ruler of hell would be this flustered over an article of clothing is beyond me
But once he starts to become use to it. He starts to expect it. What? He is the king of Hell after all.
And he truly expects to be treated like one. (He's a brat when he doesn't get attention)
Be it sinner, hell-born, or even the 'perfect OC/that everyone loves who is half angel half devil/stronger then god/etc' he's gonna ask you one thing constantly...
"Please, my angel of death? Just one time, for me? Then i'll never ask again. Promise."
"I'm not wearing a duck tail while you fuck me. When- Where in hell did you even get these made?" you asked as you held up the pair of yellow lingerie with a duck tail sown on the back of the waist band.
"You shouldn't need to worry about that, my love. All you need to worry about is wearing them for me." He said with a light sigh and a shrug of his shoulders, a soft smile resting on his face.
"Again, I am not. fucking. wearing. them, you prick-!" As soon as you got the name out you felt yourself against the wall. The soft smile gone from Lucifer's face as a dark look pooled in his eyes, an unsettling stare never leaving yours. Before you could apologize, his hand wrapped around throat, his index finger pushed your face up to his as he spoke with a low voice.
Almost like that cheery devil was just a front...
"Oh, how far from grace you have fallen, my dear. Seems you already forgotten your god. But that's no trouble at all, for tonight..." His grip on your neck got tighter as he got closer to your ear and a sinister smile made itself at home upon his pale face. Y'know, you really only notice how big he is when he gets like this... oh that wasn't a complaint. Not when his presence alone encaged you against the wall, let alone the possessive grip that he had on you.
"I'll teach you how to praise my name once again."
Alastor 𐂂...
C/W: Teasing, sadly abo mention, WHY ARE YOU BOOING ME I AM RIGHT, blood mentions, possessive behaviors, light choking, mentions of cannabalism, duh, playing more into the abo, uhm, sniffing? idfk leave me alone its late. oh ft: a guest at the end.
Another man with class, just not as much. I mean, come on, he's still a sinner~
though when you present yourself to him in your outfit, he can't help, but raise a brow as he tried to keep down his smile at the sight.
Definitely a big tease, a BIG tease
Especially when you look so cute for him, squirming under his indifferent gaze. Oh how he wants to squeeze your cheeks and leave you begging for release~
He's also one for a game of cat and mouse.
so when you go out into town with him make sure to slip his favorite pair of lingerie under your clothes
And if you're one wear revealing clothes, then I hope you're ready for a possessive (and bloody) overlord, ad pray for anyone who thinks they can touch you, let alone come near you.
oh AND OHHHH wanna know how you really got him? How you really got to him??? When the static cuts out and that Louisiana drawl' comes out of him. (I would die. again.)
(If I say he has a rut would that be considered A/b/o? I mean he is a deer demon, same with other demons in a similar case)
but WHOOO WEE
for someone who normally has a distaste for touch that isn't initiated by him, He'll enjoy a night or two (on the rare occasion) where he lets you indulge yourself
though, do be careful now, he's a gentleman up and foremost, but he's not always a patient man at that. He's always willing to return the favor tenfold~
And if you already couldn't tell, he loves the color red, basically lives in it. So it's safe to it sets something off in him
be the cannibal in him, or maybe he just likes the color a little too much
but at the end of it you'll more marked up then a rough draft <3
"Bless your heart, Dear. Did you think I wouldn't notice... your little getup? His clawed fingers trailed your sides as he leaned down to whisper in your ear. His frame trapping you in your seat and god, would it be terrifying for any mere sinner in this position, if it wasn't for the playful twitch of his ear that told you otherwise. Someone was enjoying this more then he let on...
It wasn't the first time you had teased him in public, but it was the first time people really had the courage to come talk to you. To give the poor souls benefit of the doubt, you were just sat at the bar talking to husk. Though, you would also think the red pinstripe outfit and microphone that rested at your side gave itself away.
"And it seems i'm not the only one. Now, if I were to kill everyone in this god forsaken hotel. Whose fault would that be, hm?" A clawed hand made it's way around your throat as it softly pulled you back, letting him have full access to your neck. Burying his face in your neck, he took in a deep breathe as static radiated off him.
"Or maybe I should have you for a meal tonight. You do smell quite... appetizing, my darling. Such a shame I have to ruin that pretty little outfit of yours." Before you could even gasp a grumbling and angry voice rang out, bringing you both back into reality.
"Can you two not fuck at my bar please? You are just as bad as that damn spider."
"Oh of course Husker! We'll get out of your fur right now actually! Wasn't like these pathetic things were going to get a taste of you anyways."
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ddejavvu · 1 year
Note
ok but whos gonna talk about hotchy boy being all ☹️☹️☹️☹️ when reader does not talk to him just some misunderstanding where they are not in a committed relationship but everyone just knows they have a thing for one another i just wanna hear aaron say “are you mad at me? did i do something? i am a sucker for soft aaron for ONE PERSON his person!!!
Hotch is socially awkward. He can mask it with indifference or professionality, he can manage to assimilate when he's in familiar situations, but now he sticks out like a sore thumb.
He's standing in the doorway of the precinct's kitchen, waiting. Waiting for you to acknowledge him, waiting for you to say something, waiting for you to preemptively forgive his apology, waiting for something.
In turn, you're trying very hard not to do any of those things. You're not fond of being reprimanded, especially not for something you didn't do. So when Aaron had snapped at you in front of local officers for being distracted by your phone on a case, and you were only texting back and forth with Morgan about the second crime scene, you'd been annoyed.
You know that it's his job to keep everyone in line, and if he'd been right about you slacking off, you'd have taken the fall. But all he'd done was obstruct you from your job, and embarrass you to boot. So call it petty, but you're trying to avoid even looking at the man if you don't have to.
Thankfully, the precinct's kitchen is against a wall, not in a separate room. It means there's ample space to slip around Aaron and go back to your desk without having to ask him to move.
You're only a few steps behind him when you hear his voice call out after you, "Y/N?"
You try not to stop to abruptly in your tracks, but you turn to him with a politely interested look on your face.
"Yes, sir?"
His jaw shifts at the title, "Are you mad at me?"
You're a little stunned by the question. It sounds like something a child asks their mother, standing by the edge of her bed and asking why she'd rather sleep than play. It certainly doesn't sound like Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner, the 6'1 man who commands respect in any room he enters.
"What?" Is all you can muster in response.
"Are you..." He repeats, eyes anxious as they stare into your own, "Are you upset with me? Did I do something?"
Now you feel like a child. Embarrassment burns hot at your cheeks, and you chew on the inside of one as you debate telling him that your feelings are hurt because he embarrassed you.
"Nothing," You shake your head, gripping your coffee mug tighter, "You didn't do anything. Don't worry about it. I'm just tired."
Now he's analyzing you, head tilted curiously.
"That's... the oldest excuse in the book," His tone almost sounds sympathetic, like he's pitying you for your terrible lie. "Please tell me if I need to apologize for something."
"It's not-" You rush out, running a tired hand over your face, "It's dumb. Let's just focus on the case, we can talk later."
"I want to talk now," He pushes cautiously, stepping closer to you, "I won't be able to focus on this case until we resolve this."
You try not to think too hard about that, about the fact that his personal relationship with you means more to him than his work.
"It really is dumb," You laugh, but it's a humorless sound, "But earlier, I- I wasn't just slacking off, Hotch. You snapped at me in front of all of those officers, and I was just swapping pictures with Morgan of different missing persons files. I wasn't, like, playing a game or something. I'm not an irresponsible employee."
His face has fallen into something just short of despair. He's calculating the effect of his outburst, knowing now that the local officers probably trust you less, or ridicule you in private for being too absorbed in whatever online presence they think you were updating.
"I'm sorry," He says earnestly, and his chest caves in slightly with how sincere it is, "I should have known you weren't messing around. I hadn't considered that you were talking to one of us, we usually call each other. But I understand - that's no excuse. I shouldn't have reprimanded you, especially not in front of everyone."
Slowly, the more he speaks, his words disarm that little ticking time bomb of pettiness in your chest until its spark fizzles out completely. You're relieved to have closure on the incident, but it doesn't fix everything.
Hotch will, though.
"I'll let you deliver the profile." He decides, in the absence of your response, "And a press conference, if we need one. Give you back any authority I stripped of you back there. I... I really am sorry, Y/N."
"It's okay," You finally give in, shoulders slumping from how stiff they'd been around your neck, "I know this is a particularly stressful case. And it's your job to boss us around."
He offers you a small laugh at that, a soft exhale through his nose paired with something that you could perceive as a smile.
"I just wish it had gone differently."
"Me too," He nods, guilt still trailing after his words, clinging onto him no matter how much he tries shaking it off, "If anyone says anything, or avoids letting you work on something important, let me know."
"I will." You nod, "Thank you, Hotch."
"Thank you," He looks like he wants to surge forwards, and you'll admit that you wouldn't mind a make-up hug. Nevertheless, he keeps himself in check, tugging lightly on his suit jacket to readjust it over his chest, "I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me I'd made a mistake."
"Oh I'll tell you," You tease, and his eyes dance with laughter he contains behind a soft smile aimed at the floor, "Mark my words, Hotch, you'll know if you mess up."
2K notes · View notes
hotchs-big-hands · 7 months
Note
dbf & corruption link Hotch with plus-sized reader who didn’t think he would ever be interested in HER and is so naive about it omfg the gif u reposted fuckkk I can’t stop thinking about it
YEAHHHH YOU GET IT
Okay I didn't realise I was gonna turn this into a whole fic JWFJEKFKDKFKRK (I'm writing this midway through the fic rn whoops 🫣)
Reader is early 20s and lives at home with her dad. I cba writing too much abt it in the plot sorry lol
Dbf!Aaron Hotchner x plus-size fem!reader|Minors dni NSFW|5.9K words
Warning(s): SMUT, Corruption kink, fingerfucking, sir/daddy kink 👀, almost getting caught
(d/n) = dad's name
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It wasn't often you met your dad's friends, they only really managed a few meet ups a year with how busy people's lives were these days. And so when your dad approached you to inform you he was attending a meal out with said friends you were happy for him. But you didn't expect him to offer you to join him.
"My buddies have been wondering how you're getting on," he had said, standing in the doorway of your bedroom. "You should come along, sunny. The guys are bringing along their partners but eh, you know me. As big of a bachelor as one can be."
You rolled your eyes with a chuckle, but within your stomach you felt it coiling with anxiety. And you knew he could tell from the change of expression on his face.
"Hey... you don't actually have to come along if you're not comfortable. I know you don't really, uh, enjoy these sorts of things."
"No, no! I'll come along. Um, I just don't really remember any of your friends by name." You said quickly. He chuckled and shook his head, and you knew if he was closer he would have ruffled your hair affectionately.
"Fair enough, sunny. That's a relief actually, given that I already booked for you to come along as well."
With a gasp, you thumped your dad lightly.
"Dude!" You cried, making him laugh and step back a little.
"Well, we're aiming to meet up around seven tonight so be sure to be ready by half six." He grinned at you and you felt yourself returning the expression. It was nice seeing your dad looking a lot happier these days.
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By the time you were dressed up ready for the meal that night you were inwardly panicking. Had you overdressed? Underdressed? Why did it even matter what his friends thought? Oh god, having to eat in front of his friends?! Needless to say, you were an absolute mess. Your dad grabbed one of your hands to squeeze it comfortingly as the two of you sat in the back of a taxi on the way to the restaurant and your lips curled up slightly in appreciation. It would be okay. There was no need to panic.
The ride was all too short to calm your nerves and at this point you felt jittery. It was too late to back out now though, and you quickly climbed out of the taxi when your dad walked around to open your door for you, mumbling a quick thanks and smoothing out the skirt of your pretty dress. You hadn't gone with anything flashy, opting to wear a mid-thigh length white dress that was covered in tiny blue flowers with a dropped neckline, some pretty knee-high socks and white sneakers. It made you feel good, your large curves complimented your outfit and you felt less inclined to shy away right now. With a quick adjustment of the strap of your bag, you followed your dad into the restaurant.
Oh... it was certainly more posh than you anticipated. Had your dad's friends always been this fancy?! Those coils of anxiety only tightened more as your dad spoke to the waiter about the booking. And then you were both escorted to a large table where six other people were already seated.
"Well look who it is! (D/n), you're looking well!" One of the men exclaimed cheerfully. You vaguely recognised the faces around the table, but not enough to know them by name. The man's eyes flicked to you and his eyes widened. "Goodness! Is that your little one?! You're all grown up!"
Your cheeks felt hot as you quickly sat down beside your dad, smiling shyly at the outspoken friend.
"Yeah, it's me. I don't think you guys have seen me since I was... eleven?" You conversed quietly. One of the wives of a different friend leaned forward, eyes sparkling.
"You look gorgeous, sweetie!"
Beside you, your dad could feel you trembling slightly and chuckled, waving his friends off.
"Alright, alright let the girl be."
As the attention drifted from you and the conversations changed to the mundane of friends catching up after a long time, your eyes drifted around the table. Your brows slightly pulled together. There was an empty seat next to you on your left. You gently nudged your dad, who turned to you.
"What's up, sunny?" He asked quietly. You offered a quick smile of reassurance.
"Um, is there meant to be someone else here?"
His eyes flicked to the empty chair, then back to you.
"Ohhh right yes! You remember Mr Hotchner, right? He's running a little late but he should be here soon."
No, you didn't quite remember Mr Hotchner. It had been years since you'd heard anything surrounding that name. All you knew was he had a very involved job that took him all over the country. As you sat deep in thought your dad's voice cut through as he made a humming noise, mouth full of beer. You glanced at him, noting he was looking over your shoulder at someone. But before you could turn you heard the chair next to you slide on the polished floor and shuffle as someone sat down in it. A wave of an alluring cologne flooded your senses and you slowly turned back to facing the table, heart racing. Then you heard him.
"I'm sorry I'm late, we just got back from a case. Barely had time to freshen up at home before coming here." Mr Hotchner spoke smoothly, voice deep and sensually gentle. You dared to glance next to you and you clenched your pillowy thighs together. Fucking christ, he was sexy! With the corner of his mouth turned upwards, the man oozed assurance and control as he greeted his friends around the table. Your eyes couldn't stop wandering over his features, the scattered beauty marks on his mature skin, the eyebags under his dark eyes, the prominent slope of his nose that you quickly had to move on from to not let your mind wander too much... His hair was short with a few stray wisps flopping onto his forehead and you could have sworn you could spot a few streaks of grey in it too.
And then he turned to look at you and your father. He raised a brow, feigning surprise.
"Oh hello, Mr (L/n). It's been a very long time since I saw you last. And this must be..." his eyes drifted to you, his lips twitching.
"(Y/n), sir." You managed to say, feeling hot and flustered. You dad chortled.
"My lovely sunny is here to humor her old man! Don't spook her."
"Spook me?" You squeaked. Mr Hotchner chuckled and shook his head.
"He's referring to me profiling people as part of my job. It tends to freak people out." He explained to you in that delicious voice of his. "And please, call me Aaron. Calling me sir makes me feel old."
Aaron didn't look even the slightest bit annoyed, his smirk only growing as his eyes travelled up and down your figure. You shivered.
"I- I see... Could you tell me more about this, um, profiling stuff? I don't really know what you do for a living." You admitted. Aaron had ordered a bourbon, taking hold of the glass and sipping some of the deep orange coloured liquid and setting the glass down again.
"Oh? Well, seeing as you're curious..."
You barely remembered the meal you had ordered, more engrossed in the conversation you were having with this man. He was so fascinating, passionate and when the topic of his son came up his smile softened and he pulled his wallet out to show you a photo of the cute boy. That... hm. You didn't want to think about the fact that he had already been through something as involved as having a child with someone. There was no place for you to be thinking about this man any more than a daughter of his best friend should.
But here you were, spending the night chatting to the man effortlessly whilst your heart fluttered. It was only when your dad tapped you on the shoulder that you realised the evening was coming to an end.
"Hey sunny, I know you're having a great chat with Aaron there but it's time to get going." He said with a chuckle. Your eyes widened slightly and you scowled, shoving him with your shoulder.
"Say less dad, I beg." You shot back quickly, cheeks flushing as you followed along with him pushing away from the table and standing up. Your hands smoothed out your dress, making sure all was in place again and you shuffled closer to standing next to your dad. It was when Aaron rose up slowly from his own seat with an air of grace that you realised you had to crane your neck a bit to look him in the face. The corner of his mouth twitched at the slight widening of your eyes when he straightened up and you dipped your head quickly.
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to try see you again. Although, I'm not certain on when that would be." He spoke, eyes focused on you. Your dad reached forward to shake his hand, seemingly oblivious to what was happening.
"Whenever you're back in town Aaron, you're free to come visit, my pleasure." He shook firmly, but Aaron was barely focussed. With an unwavering eye contact, his smirk widened. You could feel your legs trembling slightly under his fiery gaze.
"Oh, the pleasure is mine."
When their hands dropped, Aaron turned to you and offered to shake your hand as well, his hand smothering yours when you hesitantly reached out to take it. He gazed down at you, his thick lashes framing his gorgeous brown eyes.
"Until next time, (Y/n)." He said quietly and then turned around and walked away. Your dad raised a brow at you as you watched the older man retreat but merely chuckled once under his breath.
"Come on you, taxi's on its way." Your dad pulled you from your daze and you blinked, cheeks feeling warm for being caught staring. With a huff, you slapped your dad's shoulder when you noticed the growing grin on his face.
"Yeah, yeah. Shut up."
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Over the next couple months, you saw Aaron briefly as he passed by in between cases. Each time, no matter for how short of a time, he would stop to chat and get to know you a little more. And every time you felt your crush grow stronger and stronger. But suddenly, he stopped showing up. You never heard from him, not a peep. Humiliatingly, when you idly asked your father if he had heard from the man he showed you the communications he had had from the last time Aaron had been in town to now. To say the least it left you feeling crushed and stupid.
Another month flew by after that before you saw Mr Hotchner again. For the first couple weeks you were secretly hopeful he would show up again, checking up every time you returned from work. But he never showed. And it... well, it didn't feel good to miss someone you had only met properly once and had a couple smaller conversations after that with. Maybe he knew you had a stupid crush on him and was put off from showing up. He had no reason to want someone like you, after all. By the sixth week since you'd seen the man last you'd forced yourself to move on from being hopeful.
And then when you returned home from work one evening you noticed an unfamiliar car parked at the end of the driveway. Tired, you paid it no mind and trudged up to the front door and let yourself in with your key. You shuffled into the house and locked the door behind you, then made a move to enter the living room.
"Hey, dad? I'm home." You called out. There was a scuffle of feet and the very same man appeared with a grin.
"Ah, there you are! We have a guest over, as you probably could tell." He said cheerily and you chuckled.
"Mhm, well I'll just go and change upstairs. Be back in a sec."
With a ruffle of your hair from your dad, you rushed upstairs and decided to take a shower to wash the exhaustion of the day away. After you'd dumped your bag on your bed, you grabbed your towel and a fresh set of lounging clothes to lay out on your bed and made your way to the bathroom which was down the hall. Avoiding looking in the large vanity mirror, you stripped and stepped under the warm water of the shower once you'd switched it on.
"Mmh.." you groaned as the water sprayed down your achy muscles. For a moment, you simply stood there with your eyes closed as you basked in the soothing sensation. A moment later you lathered your plush body with your favourite soaps, taking care to glide your hands over your every curve. Idly, you thought of him, of those hands of his. You switched the water to cold.
Feeling clean and relaxed, you stepped out of the shower and wrapped your towel around yourself. Now all there was to do was return to your bedroom. As you crossed the hall, you heard the tap of footsteps making their way up the staircase. As sneakily as you could, you peeked to see who was ascending and a little squeak escaped you against your will. Still just as devastatingly handsome as the last time you saw him, Mr Hotchner was gaining closer and closer to your location and with a quick jump of action you scurried the rest of the way to your room and all but slammed your door shut.
Your chest heaved, adrenaline pumped through you and shakily you towelled yourself off and redressed in the fresh clothing. Maybe it was better if you changed, you thought as you looked down at the slightly more fitted tank top and shorts you were sporting now.
"No, don't be ridiculous." You mumbled to yourself and after hanging your towel up to dry you forced your legs to move towards your bedroom door and back out to the hallway. It was when you made it to the top of the stairs he called out to you.
"Oh, (Y/n). I'm sorry, I didn't realise you were exiting the bathroom earlier." Aaron said smoothly, startling you to spin on your axel towards him. Shit, had he seen you?!
"Um, it's fine. No harm done." You mumbled in response, shifting your weight from one hip to the other under his dark gaze. His brow twitched.
"Right."
Much to your dismay, he was by your side quicker than you realised and the two of you descended down to find your dad. With every step, the back of Aaron's hand would brush against the side of your arm accidentally, causing goosebumps to spring up across your skin. What were you to say to this man now?
"It's...it's been a while since you were last in town." You said finally, internally wincing and wishing you'd stayed quiet. The man beside you hummed.
"Had an onslaught of back-to-back cases. This is the first time my team and I have been able to catch a break. And... well, we won't get into it just yet." Aaron responded, his exhaustion barely suppressed behind his words. You wanted answers, to know why he showed up now or all times. Of what he wouldn't get into. Instead, you made a barely audible noise in response.
Glancing at the man you realised he was full on frowning now and you cleared your throat, chest aching.
"Oh! I see you found her then, huh?" The sound of your dad's voice startled you and you quickly stepped away from the older man beside you. Rounding the corner, your dad appeared wearing a jacket and shoes over his clothes, confusing you.
"Dad? Where are you going?" You asked.
"Just going to the store to grab some food."
Aaron frowned and stepped forward, stuffing his hand into his pocket to grab his wallet.
"Here, let me head to the store or at least pay for the inconvenience." He said but your dad huffed and straightened out his jacket.
"No, you're our guest, Aaron. Now grab yourself a drink and relax, buddy."
Shaking his head but smiling, Aaron reluctantly stuffed his wallet away and raised his hands in defeat.
"Next time is on me, (D/n)."
"Deal." Your dad grinned, then he shifted his focus to you. "You be a good host now, got it?"
You grimaced.
"I mean I don't mind going, he's here to see you anyway so.."
"Nonsense, I'm here to visit both of you." The man beside you said, of which your dad chuckled.
"Well there you go, he said it himself. Now I'm going out so we're not waiting too late having dinner."
You scoffed at his words but inwardly your heart was pounding. He was seriously leaving you home alone with Mr Hotchner?! Your eyes flitted to the man, who was seemingly paying attention to your father as he moved towards the front door. It was only when you heard the slam of the door that it truly sunk in; you were home alone with the man you'd grown an embarrassingly big crush on while simultaneously feeling an unjustified anger towards.
On shaky legs, you shuffled towards the kitchen to grab a drink and calm your nerves. Just as you grabbed a glass from the cupboard he spoke.
"Are you alright?" Aaron's voice startled you once again and automatically your hand let go of the glass cup, a crash following as it smashed into glistening, sharp shards. You'd barely gasped when Aaron appeared crouched before you, picking larger shards up immediately.
"I'm sorry." He uttered, snapping you out of your startled trance. You crouched down as well as you shook your head vigorously.
"No, it's okay. It's my fault-"
You looked up and froze, realising your faces were far closer than you'd anticipated. He was frowning, then he straightened up rapidly to dump the shards of glass in his hands in the trashcan.
"Please, leave the clean up to me. I was the one who startled you. Besides, you haven't got shoes on right now. So, can you hop up on the counter top?" He asked you, his tone more firm than you'd heard before. It made your lower lip jut out. You made a noise of acknowledgement, straightened up and braced your palms on the counter top behind you to help yourself onto it. Aaron had turned back to you by this point, a wash of satisfaction traced over his more alert expression at the sight of you safely away from the shards on the ground.
"Vacuum?" He simply said. You winced.
"O-oh.. um, it's in the storage under the staircase."
With a nod, Aaron swiftly left the room, his footsteps echoing through the house. God, could you feel anymore embarrassed than you did already in that moment? He had to clean up after you because you were incapable of functioning around him. You wished you had a crush on someone nearer your age, at least they wouldn't find you so childish as you suspected Aaron did. With your head hanging low you didn't even notice him re-enter the room, not until he padded towards you carefully and set the vacuum down.
"Hey... it's alright, just an accident. I didn't mean to scare you." He said softly. You sniffled and shook your head.
"S'fine. I'm okay." You mumbled. He paused for a moment, then placed a hand on your knee.
"I'll just quickly clean this mess up, alright sweetheart? I'll be with you as soon as I can."
Your head shot up at the pet name, wet eyes wide as you studied his face. The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, despite the concerned furrow in his brow.
"There you are. Just sit tight, don't want any glass to hurt you."
You watched as Aaron set up the vacuum cleaner and, crouched again, he hastily but thoroughly removed the debris from the floor. When he was satisfied, he unplugged the machine and lifted it up, the muscles in his arms bulging in his neat dress shirt. Your eyes followed him, but dropped away when he glanced your way.
"Um thanks, Mr Hotchner." You uttered and made a move to slide off the counter top. And then one of his long legs pressed against your shin, willing you to stay in place.
"Ah, ah, ah wait there." He muttered.
You quivered and shuffled back onto the counter top properly. What on earth..? You watched him leave again, swinging your legs nervously. Surely he had got rid of all the glass, right? You were unable to ponder for long when Aaron returned again, eyes on you as he approached. Your brows creased.
"Um I'm sure I can move, right? You got all the glass."
He hummed, stopping in front of you now, gaze still unwavering.
"Can't be too careful now, can we?" He said with a little smirk. You swallowed thickly.
"I..."
"May I talk to you about something?"
Your eyes trailed over his face, noting on an emotion you hadn't spotted upon first inspection. Slowly, you shook your head.
"Um yes, you can, Mr Hotchner."
He puffed air out of his nose.
"You don't need to be so formal with me, (Y/n)."
You dropped your gaze.
"Sorry, can't help it." You managed to say, feeling shy and silly. He leaned one hip against the counter beside you, crossing his arms against his broad chest.
"Don't apologise, sweetheart." He shifted his weight, now a little closer still to you. His scent enveloped you, it was soothing. "I... wanted to apologise for disappearing for a long time." He finally said. You shuddered.
"Um, it's okay-"
The sound of him clearing his throat silenced you and rendered you unable to do anything more than stare wide-eyed at him. He hummed and raised a brow.
"Sweetheart, you do know I can tell when someone is lying, right?"
Fuck.
"Mr Hotchner, sir I- I'm not lying, It's okay-"
Aaron moved suddenly, caging you in by placing his hands either side of your wide, plump hips and stared you down.
"Tsk. Don't be naughty by doubling down on lying." He gazed through his thick lashes now, leaning his face closer to yours. His scent overwhelmed you now and you bit back a whimper. "Come now, I upset you and I want to make things right."
You squeezed your eyes shut and gripped onto your shorts tightly, balling the fabric up in your tight fits.
"F-fine. I just... why did you stop visiting all of a sudden?" You wrinkled your nose a little and huffed. "God, I sound like a fucking weird-"
"No. Allow me to explain."
You exhaled quietly, not expecting him to cut you off like that. He sighed and lifted his hands up to rub his face.
"I... well, I had to distance myself from you. Not because I don't enjoy seeing you, it's more the opposite. I have feelings for you which I most certainly should not have, not as a friend of your father." He said, fumbling his thumb and pointer finger together.
You froze.
Was this really happening? Your heart felt like it was racing, your stomach coiling as you stared at him.
"I- Mr Hotchner, you..."
Aaron grimaced and shifted his weight, ready to step back from you.
"I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. I knew this was a bad idea to tell you, but I just thought you should know why I had started avoiding you." He said sincerely, then dropped his arms and turned his body.
You didn't know why you did it, but your hand shot out and you grabbed his shirt.
"-No! Don't- don't go!"
Aaron's breath hitched from your outburst, but he also didn't try to pull away from your touch either.
"(Y/n)..."
You felt warm, dropping your gaze whilst your fingers messed with the expensive fabric of his shirt.
"I- I don't want you to leave. You didn't make me uncomfortable." You mumbled. The man waited for you to continue speaking as you opened your mouth and closed it a few times. "I, um, I just wasn't expecting you to say you were interested in me."
Your eyes flicked to his face and you sucked your lower lip between your teeth at the furrowed expression on his face.
"You thought I wasn't interested in you?" Aaron's brows raised and he stepped a little closer towards you. "Sweetheart, I don't tend to talk to people outside of my close circle much at all, and, admittedly, I don't often visit people very often. But I just had to see you again."
His confession made you feel strange in a way you couldn't pinpoint on. Not necessarily bad, but a little unsure. Your eyes met his beautiful dark brown ones.
"Mr Hotchner, I don't see why you-"
"Call me that one more time and you'll be calling me sir instead." He cut you off sternly and you gasped. His left hand moved to rest on the counter just barely brushing against the outer side of your thigh and he leaned towards you, his face almost close enough for the two of you to kiss.
"I want you, sweetheart. I've spent the last few months trying to clear you from my thoughts," He paused to let out a small sigh. "However, you remain embedded within the foundations of my mind and I've come to accept this wholly. But just tell me if you don't want this and I will never bring this to you again, I promise."
Your eyes trailed over his face, tracing the creases and lines of age and you longed to feel them under your fingertips. You grabbed onto his arm.
"I-I want this... please. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you too." You confessed with a shy smile. Aaron chuckled through an exhale of relief and he began to close the gap between your lips and his.
"I was hoping you'd say that."
Desperately, you pressed your lips to his and moved your hands to grip onto his broad shoulders. Responding to you, Aaron's hands moved to grab onto the squish of your hips, digging into them as he pulled you ever closer towards him. Now chest to chest, you whined against his mouth and instinctively, your legs parted enough for him to slip between.
All too soon, you parted for oxygen, your chest heaving and straining under your lounging tee. Aaron brushed his nose against yours sensually, his thumbs stroking your hips.
"I estimate your father will be gone for forty-five minutes at most." He murmured and you whimpered.
"Y-yes, maybe..."
"Sweet girl, I want to make sure you know how I feel, truly."
Your hands tightened their grip on the shirt.
"H-how?"
He chuckled, pressing a light kiss to your lips.
"If you'll let me, sweet girl, I want to pleasure you. We'll have to be quick though, at least this time round."
This time, this time. You felt light headed in the best way.
"W-what do you wanna do?" You hesitantly asked him. Aaron slid his hands to the expanse of your thighs with a hum.
"You don't know how much I wanted to slip my hand up your dress that night we met to touch your pretty pussy, sweetheart- "
"M-Mr Hotchner!" You squeaked, cheeks flushing from the dirty confession. A deep rumble reverberated through him and one of his hands lightly slapped your thigh. You jolted, but he held you in place.
"That's it, little girl. I don't want to hear any other title other than 'sir' from you now until I say so, is that clear?"
You nodded. Another slap, slightly closer to your inner thigh. You gasped out.
"Y-yes sir!"
Satisfied, Aaron hummed and grabbed onto your thighs and, with a hint of a smile, he pulled you closer to the edge and spread your legs wider. You yelped, hands grasping onto any part of him you could to steady yourself and he chuckled whilst pressing his lips to the corner of your mouth.
"Mhm, gonna let me take a look, sweetheart?" He murmured against your skin, fingers dancing along the waistband of your shorts. You whimpered.
"I-I-" Fuck, you didn't know what to even say. You'd done minimal things with others before, but they were underwhelming experiences and you preferred to close that chapter of your life. But here you were, sprawled out on the kitchen counter with your father's friend who was more than twice your age, trying to process what he had asked you.
Aaron brushed his nose against yours, bringing you from your racing thoughts.
"Aww, don't know what you want, sweet girl? It's alright, let daddy help you." He cooed. Almost immediately, your body spasmed with the way he addressed himself and he huffed out a quiet laugh. "You like that, huh? Like the thought of calling me daddy?"
You whimpered, hips rolling against his with need.
"Uh-huh, I do."
"Say it then, I want to hear it. Then I'll give you anything you want."
Your eyes widened at the commanding tone he used. Your pussy twitched.
"I- I do, daddy. Wanna call you daddy really badly."
"Mhmm.." Aaron pressed his lips to yours again and your hands gripped his shirt again. You could feel the prominent bulge in his pants against your clothed slit now, subconsciously grinding yourself against it. With a low growl, Aaron pulled his lips from yours sharply and his hands grasped your thighs to pin you in place. You whined, trying to push back and feel the friction against your pussy again.
"Behave, little girl. Now lift your butt up for me." He commanded you and, desperate for his touch, you propped yourself up on your elbows to raise your ass from the counter top. You vaguely heard him call you a good girl before he slipped his finger tips into the band of your shorts and, with a swift pull, he removed them. You squeaked, automatically closing your legs but Aaron growled, tugging your plush thighs apart again. Your chest heaved, arousal flaring within you as you realised he was staring directly at your panties. His mouth twitched.
"Pretty panties on such a pretty girl."
You whimpered when he let go of your right thigh to slide his thick fingers over a wet patch on the crotch of fabric. Your hips bucked, you hadn't realised just how pent up you were.
"D-daddy- please!" You pleaded and he cooed at you with a smirk.
"Want daddy to play with your little pussy, huh? We'll have to be quick if you wanna cum."
You nodded eagerly, grinding your hips against his fingers eagerly.
"Mmh- yes, sir!"
"Good girl. Hold your legs spread for me."
Hooking your hands underneath your knees, you trembled as Aaron moved his right hand to pull your panties to the side, revealing your slick, puffy pussy to him. He hummed in approval, ghosting his fingers over your folds and gathering some of your juices on the tips.
"You're so wet, sweetheart. Is this all for me?" He asked softly. You wiggled your hips a little.
"Y-yeah, daddy~ only for you..."
Aaron groaned as he parted your folds to reveal your hooded clit and dripping entrance.
"Next time I want to eat you out, sweet girl. You're fucking divine looking." He rumbled, swiping his thumb over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked immediately, Aaron hummed. "Gonna fingerfuck you this time, that sound nice, huh?"
"Mmmh, yeah daddy, need it!" You whimpered, at this point just desperate for anything. Aaron kissed you roughly, the sounds of both yours and his lips moving against one another made you squirm. But you gasped out when he slipped his thick middle finger into your entrance, taking you by surprise. And with a smug grunt, Aaron slid his tongue against yours to deepen the messy kiss. One finger became two, sliding in and out of your sopping wet hole and stretching you around the two digits.
The edge of his palm massaged your throbbing, little clit as he curled the fingers upwards inside you, searching for the spot that would have your toes curling. A sudden burning pleasure spread through your lower abdomen and you moaned against Aaron's mouth. You felt his lips curl into a smile, smug as he began to thrust the two fingers up inside you in an unbreaking movement. You heard it then, the messy, gushing sound of your pussy squelching in time with the rapid thrusts and you bucked up into it, feeling the burning pleasure begin to build up. You couldn't kiss back anymore, mouth fallen open now with every whimper and cry as the thrusts increased in speed. Aaron bit down onto your lower lip, then pulled away with a wet kiss.
"You're fucking clenching around daddy's fingers so well, sweetheart. You close, huh? You gonna cum for me?" He coaxed you, the hand that had originally been holding your panties to the side now pressed down on your plush stomach, leveraging his other hand's movement. You sobbed and writhed, eyes fluttering as you struggled to keep them open.
"G-gonna cu-um! Wanna cum, daddy!"
With a grunt, Aaron's fingers moved blindingly fast, your pussy's squelches echoing in the kitchen along with your wails. He pressed his lips to your neck.
"Fucking cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, that's a good girl. Cum." He growled at you. And as your pussy began to flutter and clench around his fingers he ripped them from your hole and instead brushed them over your almost neglected clit. It was almost instantaneous then, the arch of your back, the roll of your eyes, moaning brokenly as you cummed hard.
And then you heard the keys jingling in the lock of the front door.
"Fuck-" Aaron hissed, pulling his hand away and quickly grabbing your shorts so you could pull them back on again. You were shaking, struggling to pull the garment of clothing back on so you could slip off the counter top. You heard running water, spying Aaron washing his hands and when you met his gaze the two of you giggled, adrenaline pumping through your veins.
"G-go up to the bathroom!" You whispered, gesturing to the prominent bulge in his crotch area. He huffed, but grinned and pressed a quick kiss to your lips.
"We'll continue this another time, sweetheart." He whispered. He rushed off out of sight and, whilst on still shaky legs, you turned to wipe down the kitchen top just in time for your father to enter the room.
"Ah, you getting a head start with clearing up ready to eat?" Your dad greeted you and you bit your lip to hold back a giggle.
"Mhm, don't you know it."
Needless to say, Mr Hotchner ended up staying too late to drive home that night.
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Not my best work I gotta say but 😔😔 hope yawl like it anyway SKSKSKSK
Gonna move the taglist to the comment section I think but yeah if you'd like to be tagged in future works lemme know!
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visionsofmagic · 1 year
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“four times” | simon “ghost” riley [m]
masterlist.
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⋆ pairing: simon “ghost” riley [cod: mwII] x f!reader
⋆ summary: four times you think about how simon ghost riley will fuck you and one time he actually does.
⋆ wc: 6.7k
⋆ warnings&tags: nsfw, explicit language, flirting, daydreaming/dreaming, mentions of fantasy & kinks, rough!ghost who becomes soft for some time in odd circumstances, f!reader, kissing, licking, biting, oral > f receiving, cums, cursing, superior!ghost, touching, putting one's head down, dirty talk, pet names such as doll, handcuffing, safe word, reader is kind of like a brat, sinsful/unholy things, mentions of love, fluff, a little emotional, jealousy, events happens in a safe zone like a dom. remind me if I missed something. enjoy!
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it was not the first time you imagined about it but it was certainly the one you went further 'till it made you stood where you were, looking at the lieutenant's face shamelessly without your control and keeping dreaming about how he would fuck you.
you couldn't tell what made you think such a thing since he was your superior who you should look at a co-worker but it all changed when you joined to the team and got closer with each one of them, especially with ghost who you has spent so much nights in the field now. 
in these nights, you shared so many things, mostly you but ghost became more comfortable around you enough to let you tease him. it was a great development for your relationship. he wasn't like soap at all and for you, no men could be like him. mystery he had alongside his own persona was pulling you to him dangerously. 
maybe, that was the reason why you felt this way about him; wanting him to ruin you from head to toe. 
so, it wasn't a surprising thing when you sat down on the couch, watching ghost and soap organizing and planning how to enter the building secretly.
comparing to others, his body was massive and it began with it.
your mind studied how he could easily carry you. he could move your without any effort onto a higher level and he even could hold you by your ass, raising your body up, caging it between his massive body and a wall, hugging you from the waist and ass.
with the stamina he had on field, he clearly could go for some rounds like that, not putting you down while fucking you like that. you imagined how he would make you undress before fucking you from head to toe but keeping all of his suit on which would make you feel the fabric of his clothes on your skin.
he definitely would talk dirty, explicitly. he had no shame in that situations as you guessed.
as you kept dreaming him fucking you from behind while holding you up only leaving your tips touching the ground as your head hit the wall rapidly. all naked, sweat all over and screaming his name again and agai -
"y/n?" a deep voice you loved to hear said, taking you from your nasty dreams into reality with a blushed face. "are you okay?"
you nodded to your lieutenant. "sorry, sir," you said. "I was thinking about something. what were you saying?"
his eyes that was only visible thing from masked covered face kept looking at you, so, it was soap who answered your question, pointing out the map of the building. "can you stay in here for the mission?" 
looking at ghost one last time, you turned to soap and began to talk about the mission while you continued to feel ghost's heavy eyes on you from time to time.
°
second time was when you were standing on the building with ghost beside you, lying down on the ground on your stomachs, adjusting the snipers in front of you.
lieutenant was looking directly at the high building while you were looking at him from the corner of your eyes.
he had a good physics - a good built body thanks to exercises he was doing all the time. so, while he was lying like this, you could see strong muscles on his back that were visible than before. his arms were covered in black fabric, pointing out his muscular arms under the fabric. you wanted to touch them because your palms aching to feel his muscles under your skin, caressing them slowly while he took all you give him.
while looking at his body, your naughty side took control once again, making you have unholy thoughts about the way his arms could hold your thighs in place while he is standing on his knees right in front of you, his masked curled up only leaving his lips in display to your eyes and some wetness on his lips which you saw twice thanks to having same lunch time. wetness coming out of your bared pussy in front of his face, eating you alive while you hold his shoulders and arms on your thighs that are exposed because of the shortness of night dress you were wearing.
having him between your thighs, seeing him licking, biting and eating your pussy as you only leave moans of his name and how good he is making you was a dream in your head in that moment when a hand waved towards your direction – a hand of no one’s but ghost whose eyes filled with concern and confused looking.
“what are you thinking?” he asked, angry a little bit and you knew damn well why he was angry; the mission was about to start and you were dozing off, giving you danger and ghost probably began to think whether you were ready for the mission or not.
but you took a defensive and determined manner, shaking your head with your hands in sync. “I just got an idea is all, don’t worry, sir, I am ready for the mission.”
his eyes traveled from your face to your lower parts and to your face again and making you flush more in redness. “how copy?” he asked, bossy as ever, deepness in his voice.
“positive, sir.”
“good.” he said, nodding, believing you. “don’t make me carry you from the field, y/n. it is the last thing I want to.”
“don’t you worry, simon.” you smiled, feeling closer thanks to him calling you with your name so intensely. “I am good at this.”
°
third time came sooner than you expected it to be.
the mission was done perfectly, no blood dropped, no one got harmed, the information they had got back from them secretly, not alerting anyone in the building while you and soap stayed in the field and ghost on the rooftop, giving you information and calmness through the mission, especially to you.
after it was done, the team took different cars to go back into the place you were staying at. you were the one who left behind with just one car because you decided to wait for ghost to reach you, leaving the rooftop. it was a habit you had after a dangerous mission you and ghost had in previous times. it began to be more natural each time and no one questioned it, not even you and simon, it was an unspoken and calming gesture you both shared.
while keeping silence, you enter the back of black truck. you took the chair in front of simon because there were no one in the truck expect you to and you believed it would be strange to sit beside him when there were all empty spaces. this was the first mistake you did.
you realized it when simon put down his sniper on the ground when car began to move, driver staying behind the closed black mirror, not giving any sight of you two to him. then, simon put his head to the surface of truck, looking at you with his dark colored eyes – they looked darker than before because of gloomy white lights of the car. they looked at you so intensely that you moved in awkwardness, but not breaking eye contact but it was hard to keep, especially when he opened his legs wider, manspreading, showing off his powerful thighs seamlessly enough to make your face turn into a redness.
he looked damn well with the way he was sitting that your knees began to weaken, ready to shake any moment.
it was so hard not to imagine how could you easily stay on your knees, between his thick thighs, all of his armor on, only half of his face smirking down at you while you took his exposed cock deep inside your mouth, beginning for more and more for him to fuck it roughly, his hands on your hair, caressing gently and roughly at the same time to mess with your already dumb head.
you could guess you would hold his thighs with a strong grip, not wanting to fall onto the ground because of shaking legs he would give to you.
“y/n,” simon said, sounding half ghost who is your lieutenant and half simon who is your friend or crush if you would be honest to yourself. when you looked up to his face, you realized how you were staring at his thighs and well, that particular thing covered but a little visible to eyes. you knew damn well that he caught your staring and the heat raised inside you while you waited him to continue. but he said something you didn’t expect, “you did so well in the field.” he smirked, and you could tell that without even seeing his lips.
“good girl.”
°
it was the fourth time in which you actually took an action while dreaming about it because there was a free time to do whatever you want to do and it was right after the exercise day you shared with ghost and soap together to have fun and useless moment.
flashback
it was an idea coming out from soap, suggesting to share exercise hours while playing a game; the winner in each exercise would ask a question to others – the questions that could be anything including explicit ones to add some spicy to the game as soap said while smiling. thanks to the times you three spent, you knew very well what kinds of question he would ask.
it sounded fun and you nodded, and simon too who you tried not to look at for long times since he was wearing a black t-shirt, leaving his arms exposed and upper body covered with the skinny fabric of it. also he had black cargo pants on. he looked breath taking and you wanted to remove his mask and see his face.
then, it all began; first winner of exercise was soap thanks to the energy he had which would fade away slowly as you guessed. he had no shame and that’s why, he asked a very expected question; which position you like the most.
you rolled your eyes, punching him on the shoulder, “what an unexpected question you asked soap.” however, your calm manner changed when a deep voice came from your behind.
“can’t choose.”
he was standing right behind you as his bigger body swallowed yours. looking back to his face, covered with mask, you blushed. and when he looked down at you with dark colored eyes of his you loved to look at, you turned to soap suddenly who was smirking at simon’s answer.
“how about you, y/n?” soap asked, giving time for you to be comfortable to answer. he added when you stayed silent. “it’s just a game. don’t worry, little one.”
you tried to look confident and while simon’s piercing eyes were opening holes in your back, you shrugged, “classic ones, I guess.”
“classic ones?” soap chuckled, caressing your hair with a friendly manner, “I expected you to have – well, more colorful things than that.”
rolling your eyes, you tried to joke to calm the air down since all you could think simon’s presence and answer – can’t choose, was the thing he said, so, he loved every position. you wondered how many positions he experienced with others and that made your blood boil without your control.
with raising heat and anger on your body, you said to them, feeling sick, “enough with the game. I want to take a shower. you two go on.”
as you made your way you could feel the gazes simon gave to you; confused ones while soap shouted childishly, “but it just started!”
and here you were, sitting on your bed after a fresh shower which helped you to calm down and getting away with the ideas of simon with someone else. jealousy and anger were the things you shouldn’t have since you were being just a brat who had a crush on him. that was all. nothing more.
but when you remembered his answer, your brain began to act on its own; thinking every position simon would fuck you with.
and when it stopped on your favorite on, the doggystyle, not the one you told to soap, your mind blew up, making your hands work on your clit that saught attention. 
it was all dizzy now; you lying down on the bed, one of your hands on your breast while the other one playing with your folds, heavy and pitched breaths coming out of your parted mouth, your white night dress on your body, exposing your breasts alongside with your pussy and thighs.
it was passing midnight and no one were in your floor; soap and simon went outside as soap informed you, captain price and gaz were visiting some important individuals who were friends of captain, so, you were all alone – all alone to do what you wanted to for such a long time; thinking about the lieutenant – his hands, thighs, arms, massive body entirely and especially his cock while having your own pleasure with quilt because he was your superior, boss even, and on the other hand, he was your friend. if only he knew you were lying down on the bed and began to moan his name lowly but since there wasn’t any sound in the floor, it sounded so high for your ears.
when you were about to reach climax, the door knocked, taking you away from your naughty dreams.
with a dizzy mind and annoyed because of not reaching your climax, ache on the stomach, you got up, not minding putting something on to your messy night dress, you just stood behind the door, opening the lock, then the door only to see the mask of ghost, standing with all his glory behind the door with a black hoodie and light blue jeans on. he looked attractive and hot as always. you didn’t know how you could fall for someone without seeing his face but it was the power of simon. you fell for the man for only him, not for his face or position – only for him.
“s-simon?” you asked in surprise because he was the last one you expected to stay behind your door in such hour, especially since he was out with soap doing god knows what.
without saying anything, he just nodded towards the room, asking for a permission to enter.
giving him space to enter the room, you realized which dress you were wearing but it was all too late and simon’s eyes were already on your body, looking at it from corner of his eyes even though you could feel its burning effect, making your cheeks burn and remember what you were doing before he knocked the door.
cursing inside your head, you put your arms around your body with a calm movement, like you weren’t minding being like this in front of your crush – who you were having unholy thoughts recently, you asked, “is there something important, sir? I thought you and soap were outside for fun.”
“yeah?” simon asked in a low tone, making you shiver thanks to deepness of his sound – sounding more than ghost on the field than simon but there was also hints of simon still. “it wasn’t fun.” he added, slowly approaching you, putting a hand on the door, right beside your head, making your back touch door’s surface due to sudden closeness. he caged your body between his and the door. it was hard to breath normally.
“s-sir?”
“I was simon for a second there and now, I am the ‘sir’?” was he doing this on purpose? – the deepness and lustful his sound was making, eyes behind the mask that were only visible thing on his face and closeness. it was different than before.
“would you like me to call you with your name, sir?” you asked, shy as ever but trying to show confidence.
“no,” he shrugged, slowly, looking at your lips for a second for enough for you to catch it and become breathless. “call me whatever you like.”
you tried to chuckle, getting out of his hold, walking toward your bed without looking him back. “is this a joke that soap suggested?” you smiled again, a nervous one because what he was trying to do now was bad news to you; he was giving you a power he shouldn’t – power of being so fucking close to him. “it is not funny.”
you sat down on the bed, arms on your chest still, but the skirt of dress raised up, showing your little exposed thighs to him which you didn’t mind since the topic was different than simply your dress.
ghost leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, making them getting tight through the fabric of hoodie. he also crossed his legs, looking so tall, giving you a sense of being weaker and smaller than him but this only made your stomach twist in excitement. the whole air was heavy and filled with lust. 
“am I looking dumb to you?” he asked, sounding calm even though the question was – odd.
“huh?” you asked, confused. “no, sir, of course not.”
“then why you are acting like I am?” he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he got straighten and started walking towards you. you held your breaths ‘till he stood right in front of you, making you look up to see his face, then, he put his two hands on the bed, caging you in here too.
his nose were touching yours from time to time. you couldn’t remember the last time you felt hot, dizzy and excited.
“thinking I would not notice that gazes you gave me, hm, is that the deal, y/n?” he asked, “I can see though your skull, I can smell raising heat coming from it. standing there, dreaming about me.” his right hand found your left cheek, caressing it slowly, “tell me, doll, how many night you thought about me while touching yourself – like this one.” his mouth reached your ear and you could feel his warm breaths even through the mask, “how many times you moaned my name?”
your mind wasn’t there, no, it was all gone but still, you tried to protest, “s-sir, you are mistaking, I –“
“mistaking? oh,” he straightened up, his massive posture shining with the moon’s dim lights coming from windows. “then, I heard wrong it, maybe, you tried to moan another man’s name, is that it?”
you waved your hands on defense, “no, no!” everything was complex and you knew it was to tell truth in this situation in order to not make it more complex than it already was, so, taking a few deep breaths, you looked at his eyes once again, feeling weak on the knees due to his power, and saying, “it was your name I moaned, sir.”
he tilted his head to left a little, hand on your chin, caressing it gently contrary to the strength he held. “good girl,” he said, making you close your eyes – being called good girl by him was magnificent, and when he continued, it became more than it, “my good girl.” his other hand moved, lifting half of his mask, showing his smirking lips that turned into a straight line. he knelt down, closing the gap between you face and his, nose touching to each other. “don’t lie to me again. will you do it? will you be my good girl like always?”
you nodded, “I will!” you tried to calm down when he smirked again, knowing his dominance on you and proud of it. “I will, sir.”
“then, tell me,” oh he was being such a tease now with the way he was talking – low, deep, full of poison that could be death of you. “what you were moaning for?”
it took some certain seconds for you to answer his explicit question directed right into your face, wanting to get answers of what you were dreaming about him before he came. god knows how great hearing ability he had, catching you calling his name behind the walls. you could swear he stood there for a second to hear your pathetic moans, trying to give yourself pleasure. gulping, you looked half-giant man before you, losing your mind just with it. what it would do to you when you saw him naked? you wished inside, you begged even, to see him naked tonight, on your bed.
“for you, sir.” you gulped again. the room’s temperature was high – so high, like your mind and it wasn’t from a drug, no, it was because of him – simon fucking riley. he was one of his kind, for sure, and you could taste it tonight, maybe just once which made you sad for a moment before seeing him smirking to the answer, waiting for you to continue, giving him something would make him ruin you in the moment. “for your cock.”
“atta girl.” his fingers found the thin strap of your night dress, clinging it. his eyes found yours for a while, getting your approval even if he could see the way you closed your legs together to feel something to calm down your lustful pussy, hardened nipples visible through the dress and heavy – audible breathes. ghost was a beast but simon had the heart of a gentleman. knowing this, you nodded, giving him power over you he sought.
he gave you his hand, you held it, feeling roughness of it that tickles your skin in a funny way, heartwarming even. getting up, you waited for him to remove the dress from your body, letting it collapse into the ground, leaving you naked all over, causing you to have redness from cheeks to knees from here to there.
it was a fantasy for you, one of them really, being naked while he kept all his clothes on, fucking you like that but tonight, you wanted to see him too because it was the first time. you wanted it to be unforgettable forever.
when his eyes and his fingers moved in unison, traveling on your body that began with your face. as his fingers made his ways to your waist, he held it for both of his hands in a second, pulling you into him ‘till your exposed tits hit his chest. you screamed lowly at the sudden action, putting both hands on his shoulders to balance your stance. he didn’t smirk but you could swear he was enjoying this so fucking much from how his hands began to move from your waist to your ass, grapping them and giving gentle squeezes. he knelt down, nose touching nose, “I will give you some times to do whatever you want to do with me,” he put your hair to your ear with his left hand, “then, I will have you with my way.” 
you smirked, getting comfortable each second, gaining your confidence back. “is this a deal, sir?”
“no, pretty, it’s a warning because when I begin to have you with my way, you would not be able to even think what you wanted in the first place,” he smirked a little, “you will be too cock dumb even to think.” 
looking at his eyes carefully for the last time, you nodded, a smile of victory appeared on your face. “I trust you, lt. make me a dumb for your cock as if I've never been.” the moment you finished your sentence, a light exploded inside, and after a second, you were all over him, kissing his lips as your hands on his shoulders tightened in order to gain strength to keep still because his lips were your weakness from now on.
kissing him with the way you wanted the most, your heart reached its own euphoria, encouraging you to move closer – taking actions. so, your hands traveled on his neck, causing him bend more. he opened his mouth wider at the action, letting your tongue clash with his, reaching the taste of it – taste of him.
moaning, you held his hoodie, leaving his lips to remove it. being an obedient man, he let you remove it without saying anything, only looking at your face with his messy and red lips because of the roughness of the kiss you shared.
it was the first time you saw his upper body exposed, showing off his biceps and well built body with a proud looking on his half covered face when he saw the way you literally moaned with the half naked sight of him. “s-simon.” you tried to say, more like another moan of his name when his lips found yours once again, taking back the breath your lungs asked for.
he wasn’t that rough but you knew his kiss would leave puffiness on your lips.
finding you waist again, he made you jump into his arms, holding your body like it was the last thing for him to hold life on his hands. his touches felt both lovely and intense, blurring your mind, wanting to be fucked by him soon enough.
letting your back reach onto the bed gently and slowly while his mouth found your neck, you felt the heat radiating from his chest into yours and you couldn’t help but say, “I didn’t know my time was this limited.” when he began to put permanent licks and kisses on your neck, a hand on one of the breasts as the other one traveled on your thigh. when you remarked his eagerness by saying, “couldn’t wait any longer, huh? I didn’t know you were so into me like I was for you, sir.” he smirked for a second before giving you a rough bite, making your body jump in sudden pain that began to feel like a pleasure thanks to his added kisses. you knew you was right and that knowledge added more confidence and happiness to you. 
as your hand found his nape hair, coming out from the way his mask stayed, you held them tightly when his fingers positioned on your pussy’s enter.
“s-simon!” you said, “please, please, please.” and it took him just put his fingers on the folds of your pussy to make you start to beg for his cock – inside you.
“you sounded so confident now. where is that confidence go?”
you shook your hands in negative way, holding his hair still, waiting for him to stop playing with your folds and enter. “I just want it! please, please –“
“want what?” he teased but he didn’t wait for you to reply, instead, he entered his fingers into you, two of them as his kisses, licks and bites moved from your neck to breasts – taking his time on there while fucking you with his long and thick fingers, earning low moans from you. he moved to your abdomen, then to your pussy ‘till he reach right into your entrance.
his tongue joined his fingers, eating your pussy, adding third finger, going in and out rapildy, leaving you no choice but close your thighs together to take more pleasure of him because seeing his head between your thighs, pink tongue on the pussy, eyes on your face – challenging you to keep looking at him – at how good his tongue working on your clit. “s-simon!” you moaned again, earning a smack to your ass.
“stay still if you want to cum,” his hands opened your thighs wider, giving him a good view of your messy pussy. he added, “c’mon, be a good girl for me and don’t try to hold it back,” your stomach twisted in pleasure, reaching your climax soon enough. simon said, “cum.” to give permission to you before his tongue reached the deepest it could go when his three fingers entered you deep and rough, you moaned loudly, letting your cum hit his mouth and fingers.
simon didn’t stop at his actions of tongue ‘till he drunk all juicy you made with that hard cum thanks to him.
“s-simon –“ you said again. his name was the only thing your mind could make sense of. “please. need you – need your cock!”
“what a greedy girl you are, still wanting my cock even though you cum so much on my mouth.” he positioned himself on top of you, two hands caged your head between them as he left a little of his weight into yours. your legs opened on their own, hugging his belt, pushing him down to feel his hardened cock on your exposed pussy to seek friction. he chuckled deeply at your weak trying and you waited for a while in order to comprehend the way he chuckled so beautifully – he was so beautiful, not from this world, you believed – he was something else, different than any human and he was all yours now. you wished this magic would never end.
“since I couldn’t wait for your time, I will give you a choice.”
saying hmm in response, you closed your eyes and opened them to gain function of your brain back while simon watched you with sparkles on his darkened eyes. his hot breaths were hitting your face and that was the warmest thing you felt. “what choice?”
“choice of position.” he said, kissing your cheeks and chin, giving you explosions – good ones like fireworks on the night sky, “you didn’t say which position you liked most to soap. say to me, wanna hear it.”
you decided to tell the truth, so, you held his face with both of your palms, putting an innocent kiss to his nose like you weren’t all naked under him, took his fingers and tongue just now, “actually, I don’t care about the position anymore,” you shrugged, “with you, every each of them will be the best.”
that made him tilting his head to left, “you didn’t get my cock but you still believe it will be best.”
you chuckled, “why shouldn’t I? perhaps, it isn’t good, hm?” you challenged him.
he put the last gentle kiss on your lips. then, he left your body, standing on your knees as his hands stopped on his belt, removing it slowly enough to give you another twist on the stomach at the sight of him; half-covered mask on, pink and wet lips because of only you, exposed chest with full of biceps and well built muscles, veins visible on fingers and arms, and thick thighs covered with clothes but soon, would be left as naked as his chest.
“I should make you regret for saying that but tonight, I will take easy on you my pretty girl,” he removed his belt, holding it with one hand, unzipping his pants, taking it off from his body within his black boxers. in addition to his speech – him saying how you were his pretty girl, how he could punish you but choose not to for tonight, your mouth opened wider when you saw his hardened cock, finally free, standing with all its glory right in front of you. it was long and thick – greater than you could imagine in those naughty dreams of you. 
he knelt down again after giving you a time to acknowledge his cock, aching to enter you all way in. you looked at his eyes, full of danger and lust that pointing out his further actions, “so, enjoy it while you can because I will never be this merciful again.”
wait, he was saying that this would go on – that this wasn’t just one night thing? – you thought to yourself in pure disbelief but it all gone when he spun your body, making your face touch the surface of the bed’s sheets. feeling his chest on your back, you growled – his weight on you only made you eager than before and when his hands found yours, you felt cold sense of his belt. he was handcuffing you with his goddamn belt he took off and you only stayed still, a great idea of comiting a sin with simon looked thrilling and you didn’t move even when he checked out whether you could move your hands or not.
yes, you imagined him fucking you but this – this was beyond it. he was breaking all the norms you expected him to have and you couldn’t deny the feelings he gave to you – both sinfully coming right out of hell and fireworks made from the expression of beauty and innocence from a clear sky.
“y/n,” simon said, for time calling you with your name after you started making out. it felt closer than ever this time, so, you looked at his face with pure love, seeing him getting softer. “do you need a safe word? we can make one if you –“
“no,” you said, calm to give him guarantee, “with you, I don’t need one, simon.”
with your reply, his soft and thoughtful side seemed to give its place to the one whose intentions were to fuck you hard. you realized you loved both of them because they were all simon – your simon.
maybe it was wrong to call him as yours but when his hand found your neck, positioning your head into the sheets as his other hand found your thighs after lifting your ass higher, opening them wide open with the helps of his knees, it felt so right – you were his before even knowing and from now on, you had no complain being called as his as well as him being called yours.
you moaned when his cock’s tip positioned on your entrance, giving you a second to breath in and out. then, his cock entered inside with a rough thrust, making your body bounce because of the impact. your head nearly hit the headboard, moaning loudly some mindless things like begs, praising, and so on.
it felt so good – so right; the way his hand traveled on your waist, positioning you in one piece in order to make it stay still, not bouncing each time he trusted deeply and roughly. he indeed had a good strength and stamina within a great speed, you realized it now more than before.
as his thrusts made their way right into your walls, your moans were so loud that if someone just walk pass by your door, they could easily hear you moaning and screaming your lieutenant’s name shamelessly, as if it was the one thing you knew, maybe it was.
“s-simon –“ you tried to say with a messy mind, “if someone comes, they will – “ you took heavy breaths, his balls hitting you, his weight on yours hard to endure, “they will hear us!”
simon’s grip on your waist tightened, probably leaving marks that would last for a few days but he didn’t seemed as he mind it at all while he kept fucking you hard, giving your breasts bouncing with each thrust.
his cock were reaching your stomach and you knew you could see it if you looked at your abdomen. his hot breathes joined your moans and when he hugged your abdomen and breasts with two of his hands, making your back hit his chest. this new position made his cock reach deep down of your pussy, giving you painful but pleasure thrusts. from the tips of your fingers that were handcuffed, you felt his tightened biceps. giving them little touches, you heard simon curse under his breath.
reaching to your ear, he said, “scream my name more. if anyone pass by this door, I want them to hear whose cock you are taking and how it made you a cock dumb.” his thrusts became messy but their deepness were still there due to the new position. “maybe I should fuck you in shared office even. that would definitely make them hear your filthy moans. want that?”
he bit your neck, leaving your body onto the sheets once again, holding your thighs as he stayed without moving, only his hands. he was literally using your body like a lightweight toy. he was just moving your body back and forth without any movement, fucking you like this, proving the power he held because it was hard to move your body rapidly and roughly just to fuck you and he was doing it as it meant nothing to him.
you felt like a doll under his touch with the way he began to fuck you but it only made you reach another climax in an instant, being his doll – his slut he used for his cock in bed came wonderful to your ears.
“would my pretty girl like it? showing how she belongs to me who begs for my cock – who dreams of it every fucking night ‘till she gains it.”
“yes, yes, yes!” you screamed, “please, simon! let me cum, please, please, please –“
there wasn’t any sound including your own. it was only him. therefore, when his deep voice finally said, “cum. cum to my cock.” you cum undone in a second, letting your juicy pouring to his cock and onto the sheets from there.
you cum too high and hard but you had courage to say, “simon,” to him one last time before nearly fainting, “cum inside. I want you – I need you to cum inside.”
he lost balance of his thrusts that were going in and out softer now, and when he regained his balance, he only began to fuck you rougher this time, heavy breaths and curses came out of him ‘till he reached his own climax, cumming deep inside, feeding you with his hot seed.
it was better to feel his cum than your own.
putting your forehead into the bed, taking deep breaths to finally reaching what you wished for, you let simon took his cock off of you, letting his seed coming from inside to your folds, thighs and sheets – a beautiful sight to your eyes. he also removed his belt, kissing your chin that were hurting but with his lips, you wanted to be handcuffed more by him if he would keep kissing you like this afterwards.
your body collapsed onto the bed. looking at his still half-hardened cock and juicy on him – both his and yours, you moaned lowly, “simon.”
he put a hand beside your head, other one caressing your hair after pulling them out of your face, he kissed your forehead. “just rest, you need it.”
“I don’t need a rest.” you said, “I need you.”
he looked a bit confused, asking, “you want round two? I didn’t know you were such a greedy for it.”
you chuckled at his tease. “I would want it still even when we do it for a hundredth time, but, no.” your hand found his mask, not pulling it out, just holding it. “I want you, simon – just you.”
he looked surprised for a while, adjusting what you said. you could see how hard he was trying to hide his emotions under the mask but you knew him damn well, realizing it was the thing he wanted as well as you.
he nodded, holding the hand you touched to his mask with, putting a kiss to the fingers. his hands stayed on his mask and you felt an urge to say, “you don’t have to remove it. I will wait for the moment you believe as the right one. just come here,” you showed other half of the bed after leaving him enough space to fit. “and let me kiss you all night. don’t expect me to forget the deal you broke tonight.”
to get his normal self, not the one who was emotional and showing it, he just nodded, smiling little, “you don’t forget a thing, y/n.”
“of course, I don’t! it is about you after all.”
chuckling at your own answer, you watched simon leave his mask as it was; half-covered, lying on the bed, giving you his arm for you to put your head to but you choose his chest.
calming in his arms he hugged you with from the waist, you smiled. “let’s stay for a while. then, we can bathe to clean up.”
he nodded, “together?”
you tried to hide your blushed face with a hit on his chest, “simon!”
he shrugged, a ghost smile on his face as he closed his eyes at the feeling radiating both of you. “definitely together.”
the end.
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dragon-kazansky · 4 days
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
♡♡♡
"What do you think Bridgerton?"
Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.
"This one more to your liking?"
"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.
"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."
"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.
"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.
"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.
Henry points to the next one.
"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.
Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"
"My..."
"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"
"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"
"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"
Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"
Mr Granville leaves.
Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.
He sighs and closes the sketchbook.
♡♡♡
As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.
You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.
Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.
"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.
"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.
"He certainly was."
"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.
That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.
"You too?"
You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.
"Anthony invited me," you admit.
Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.
"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.
"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.
"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.
"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."
Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.
You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.
Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.
"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.
"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.
She stops playing. "So soon?"
"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.
"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."
You look at Daphne quietly.
"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.
"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."
"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.
"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.
Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.
♡♡♡
When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.
Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.
The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.
You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.
The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.
"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."
"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.
"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."
"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.
Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.
There is nothing you could ever say to her.
You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.
"May I have this dance?"
You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.
"You may."
You go with him to dance.
It seemed Benedict wasn't here.
♡♡♡
Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.
He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.
"Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.
"Come in, come in."
Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.
"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.
"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."
Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.
"What do you think?" Henry asks.
Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.
"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."
"I shall take that a compliment."
They both chuckle.
"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.
"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."
They both chuckle again.
"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.
Benedict picks an easel and sits down.
♡♡♡
As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.
You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.
You continue dancing with your partner.
Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.
When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.
"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.
He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.
"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.
Violet downs a third glass of champagne.
"She is persistent," you say.
"Hm?"
"Your mother."
Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."
"The opera singer..."
He looks at you.
"Nevermind. Its not my business."
Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."
"Yes. I assumed as much."
Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.
You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.
"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.
"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"
"I just noticed his absence."
"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.
You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"
He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."
Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."
As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.
At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.
As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.
You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.
The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.
Anthony bows, and you curtsy.
"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.
You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.
The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.
When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.
He heads outside. You follow.
"Anthony?"
He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."
"What's the matter? What's happening?"
"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.
"Who?"
"The duke."
"He is here?"
"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.
You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.
What you find is not what you ever expected to see.
Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.
Anthony runs at Simon.
"Bastard!"
Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.
"Daphne..."
She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.
"You will marry her," Anthony declares.
"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.
"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"
Anthony is angry.
"Brother!"
"I cannot marry her," Simon says.
"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."
"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.
Daphne looks hurt.
"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."
"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.
"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."
"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."
"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"
You look at Simon quietly.
"I am truly sorry."
"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.
You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.
Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.
You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.
Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.
Anthony and Daphne leave.
Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.
Neither do you.
♡♡♡
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ninapi · 7 months
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Daddy Issues ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
Premise: Toji, now being a single father has no idea how to raise a child on his own. His beautiful younger neighbor hears the baby crying every night, coming to his aid in more than one way.
Word count: 4365
Note: Just had the need to mention that there is no smut in this story before you start reading. lol.
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Fushiguro Toji was anything in this world but a loving and understanding parent.
Having to deal with a year-old baby on his own wasn’t his idea of fun and didn’t even know where to start.
When his wife was still alive, she was the one in charge of the kid, he barely knew how to change his diaper, and even that didn’t look to be just right. But he had no one to depend on, to ask for help, all his ‘friends’ were in the same business as he was and the women lurking around him at the bar don’t seem like good mother material.
Every night looked the same for him, the walls of his cramped tiny apartment constantly shaking with the loud wails of his infant child, he had no idea why the baby was crying, nor how to make him stop. His headaches turned into migraines and the little patience he had within him evaporated.
“Megumi, can you please, please, shut up? I’m begging you, I’ve never begged anyone in this life anything, please just sleep….” his voice came out louder than he anticipated, making you jump from your bed.
You lived next door and were having a hard time trying to sleep as well, the paper-thin walls that separated you from the distressed baby not doing much to stop the sound from coming.
You’ve worried for him for months now, you were aware the mother had passed, yet you’ve only seen your neighbor twice after that, and in all truth, he looked like someone who wasn’t interested in getting to know the people in the building and share a cup of tea or two.
But that was it, you’ve had enough.
Working wasn’t exactly easy when you’ve had only a couple of hours to sleep, and the poor baby, why was he always crying?
Initially you thought he was alone even, until this moment when you heard his father yell at him.
You understand his frustration really, but you should never talk like that to a baby. As if on cue, the baby just started crying louder, scared by his dad’s anger display.
Tying a robe around your body, you walked outside your apartment, knocking on the foreign door beside your own.
Toji’s face when he saw you on the other side wasn’t one of anger, was more one of despair. He had blackish bags under his eyes, his cheeks were hollow, his head looked like a bird had nested on it and his shirt was full of what looked like baby vomit.
Not the prettiest sight.
“What do you want?”
“Excuse me sir, I’m your neighbor, (Y/N). Seemed to me like your child was having some troubles to sleep…I’m a certified pre-school teacher, so I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help…” the soft smile on your face was almost blinding, were you an angel sent by the heavens to rescue him from his demise? Did he even believe in angels? Because now, he certainly does.
Without uttering a single word, he moved to the side, leaving space for you to go into his apartment, immediately collapsing on the couch right after.
The baby was in his crib, his throat raw from screaming. His little onesie matched his dad’s shirt soiled with old milky vomit; his diaper as full and heavy as it could be.
No wonder he was crying like this.
“I will be using your bathroom. Where do you keep his clothing?” he pointed to a cardboard box laying next to his crib, earning a scowl from you. You were honestly in no position to judge him, he lost his wife not long ago and his job was of a dubious nature, but this were no conditions for a child to grow up into.
Grabbing the only clean looking onesie you could find, you took the baby into the bathroom and gave him a very much refreshing bath, his hair was all sticky and his nails way too long. You took care of that as well and got him into his clean pj’s in record time. Quickly moving to get some milk warmed up and in his zippy cup all before Toji could even realize what was going on.
But one thing was clear for him.
Megumi wasn’t crying anymore.
In fact, he just heard him giggle, which made him look up at you. He was in your arms, and you kept on bouncing him while he drank some warm delicious goodness, his little cheek nuzzling your own, sleep clad in his beautiful, rounded eyes.
You got there less than twenty minutes ago, and Megumi was now asleep.
How was this possible? He’s been trying for months, and he only sleeps when he passes out from crying too much…
You placed his little blanky over him, caressing his hair until you were sure he wasn’t going to wake up anytime soon, then headed over to his father, speaking in a quiet small voice, “There. He was too dirty, babies tend to be very picky with this sort of stuff, just make sure to change his diaper more often and change his clothing when dirty. Also, his onesies are too small for him now, you need to buy him larger clothing, it hurts his little legs, so I left the buttons open.” Toji was staring at you like you were some sort of goddess who came to tame his little beast, this was no easy fit, he was just as fierce as his dad…
“He’s a lovely well behaved baby boy, I’m sure he won’t give you many troubles.” that, however, made him scoff. “HA! He’s a little dirty beast, that’s what he is! All he does is scream and poop.” his loud outburst made Megumi cry once again, his father annoying you more than the poor tired child, “Tch, don’t be so loud!”
He was smirking your way instead of feeling offended, now you’d see what kind of a beast his child is. Or so he thought, because Megumi stopped crying once in your arms, his face pressed to your chest enjoying its softness and warmth, leaving Toji speechless with his mouth gaping.
“Such a good boy you are~” the child refused to leave the comfort of your chest, making you sit on the filthy couch that reeked of beer to wait for his slumber to come back.
“What do they teach in pre-school? Is it some sort of magic? He’s never acted this way, not even when his mother was alive.” his reply made you chuckle, petting the baby’s tiny back in the process. “Hmm…we teach them the days of the week, how to cut and practice writing, how to tend plants, how to color, things like that.” humoring him this far was more than what he is used to with other women, they usually just want him for cash and a fun lusty night, but they’ve never cared to talk like this with him, he was an intimidating man after all.
“Pfft and how does that make my son stop crying? Stop it, spill the beans, how did you do it?” he sat by your side, the sly smirk on his lips never leaving his rough, handsome face.
“I just got him cleaned up and fed, that’s all.” the sound of your voice made the boy snuggle deeper into your bosom, drooling all over the patch of skin that was in view.
Toji’s eyes were on his every move, a sudden wave of understanding hitting him hard, “I see…he’s definitely my son…” his loud cackles made Megumi stir and got you to frown once more. This time though, you didn’t need to scold him, he got it just by looking at your angered face. “Sorry, sorry…he just looked so comfy, of course anybody would sleep just fine there.” his jokes made you blush, quite an unexpected thing in such situation.
He was a handsome man, there was no human out there that would dare to argue that. Yet, he was definitely older and had some serious cleanliness issues, not entirely your type but aggravating nonetheless.
“Would you consider being his nanny? I could pay you double what you make in that pre-school of yours…” tempting offer, but you loved your job and weren’t looking for a new one.
“My son is clearly in love with you, I don’t think he’d accept anyone else…and you live next door so you wouldn’t have to spend money by going to work.” One of his chubby, calloused fingers came a little to close to your chest startling you, though, his aim was to clean his child’s drool before it landed again on your silky skin, it was a heartwarming scene.
“I can’t leave my job, they need me. Though, I only work the morning shift, so I’m back by noon. I can help, at least until you get used to the single parenting thing.” you said all this while looking at his child with such tender eyes that he just couldn’t say no to your proposal, he works late mostly anyways, sounded like a good deal.
“I would appreciate that.” his demeanor had changed for the better since you shared the same couch, an understanding like no other found without the need for words.
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The next day your shift got cut short as the children had a previously scheduled trip to the zoo.
Some parents insisted on going as well so you gave them your space in the bus, using your time to clean the playroom, it was time to donate some toys and you had the perfect baby in mind for this.
You gathered a few plushies and age-appropriate books and placed them in your backpack just before leaving for the day.
Remembering the face of despair his dad had when you mentioned getting new clothing for him, you stopped by the store and got him a couple of onesies and other outfits that would actually fit him, you could just give him the receipt, that should be easier for him.
And it was, he had never felt so grateful towards someone in his entire life when he saw all the new things you had for his child.
He isn’t the best dad out there and he’s aware of that, he didn’t really care if he was being honest, he always planned to sell him to the Zenin’s anyways, but raising a child was a pain and he never expected it to be that complicated.
“Can you tell me where the cleaning supplies are, Fushiguro-san? I would like to clean the carpet and the couch, it isn’t good for Gumi to breathe in so much dust.” he nodded, going in circles in his own living room, he didn’t know where they were, if there were any. “Just wait here, I’ll go buy some. Is there anything else you need from the store?”
“Hm…there’s not many diapers left, also it would be nice to have a smaller spoon for him.” going over to find his wallet, he headed out of the door only acknowledging you slightly while you tended his son. It was an intimate conversation and it had him somehow flustered, the big’ol Fushiguro Toji, flushing over the sight of his child chewing on the side of your arm while you checked his fridge. It’s not like he didn’t find his ex-wife attractive, because he did, but she was very different from you, almost as much of a man as he was, you were soft, tender, kind, your round curves and soft features weren’t like the ones he finds in bars and clubs, he needed to get his shit together before he’d end up drooling on you as much as his son.
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It's been a few weeks since you and Toji officially met and it still amazes him how much his life has changed in such a short period of time.
For the best, mind you.
But the best change in it, he would agree for it to be how much he’s been sleeping lately. Megumi entered a new routine with you, one that makes him sleep always at the same time, without waking up much, meaning Toji also has been getting some very much needed rest.
Even if Toji knows his life has improved, Megumi is the one who’s been enjoying life like no other these days.
Since his dad is in charge of him in the morning, he decided is best to sleep and recharge energy, that way his dad can do his grown up things without much problem and he would get all the play time in the world once you’re back from work.
His diet has improved as well, you found out Toji was feeding him instant ramen and this alerted you beyond words and you made a priority getting him all the nutrients he’s been missing.
His clothes fits, he has new books and toys, clean sheets, in general life was good to him lately.
Though Toji was now expecting you to get tired of this, you did have a job, a tiring one at that and still had to do your own stuff, but you’ve been visiting him daily and staying until Megumi signed off for the night, you must be tired, he knows he would be for sure. And knowing this had him on edge, what would he do without you? Their life is so much better nowadays, is this why people get married? Because he totally gets it now.
He’s been thinking about it all day and now that he’s back from work, he would tell you to feel free to drop this whenever you wanted. True, he didn’t want you to go away any time soon, or ever…but having you in a tight leash without it being your responsibility would just end in you sick and tired of the situation, he wanted to give you options, comfort even.
But when he stepped inside his own apartment, the sight behind the door made his brain to stop working.
You were laying down on his couch, Megumi on top of your belly, slapping your cheeks lovingly while giggling, “MmmMa” he’s been trying since forever but learning new skills without help is almost impossible for a baby, having you around talking to him constantly and encouraging him to talk has been doing wonders for the child, he’s very smart after all.
“Did he just call you mama?” Toji was still by the door, one shoe still on, unable to move from his spot.
“Oh Toji-san! Welcome back, how was work? And honestly I’m not sure, I haven’t told him to call me mama so I don’t know where he got it from.” Your explanation made Toji uncomfortable, he does know where he got it from. For a lack of a better word, he’s been referring to you as such in front of his son, is just complicated to explain a baby that you weren’t his mother, nor sister, nor family even but a simple neighbor, because not even the term ‘friend’ would be accurate. Megumi would call him “Ppa” so it was easier to call you “Mama” for him to understand, and it seemed like it did work, a bit too well for his liking.
“Oh well, he’s a smart kid. He doesn’t remember his mother and you certainly act like one, he’s just a little confused. Sorry if that freaked you out…” rubbing the back of his head he hoped that you wouldn’t notice how he wished that was in fact a reality.
“It didn’t don’t worry. It is normal, for younger kids you know? They call their teachers mama too, it’s happened a few times to me already. Though Gumi is special to me, so I don’t mind it one bit. You though….I hope you know I’m not trying to replace your late wife in any way….” your rosy cheeks were a blessing from the gods, there was no prettier sight out there, he was sure of that. But how much he wishes you were trying to fill in the spot, would remain a secret for a bit longer.
“I know you’re not. But I wouldn’t mind it if you were.” shooting you a flirty wink, he was finally able to move away from the door, the spell you had him under breaking with the blushy display.
“Don’t say that, it would make her sad…” even if you were wiggling on the couch, flushed all the way to your ears, it was still a bit sad, knowing someone lost this wonderful child and handsome husband, you’d be devastated if you’d have to leave a family behind like she was forced to.
“I know you think I’m joking, but I know for sure it wouldn’t. She was….an interesting woman. I just know she would be happy knowing Megumi has someone to look after him and give him the life she knows I can’t give him…he’s so happy and healthy lately, it’s making me think things through…” your heart grew three sizes with his words. In all truth, you’ve been just as happy. Your life used to be boring and pretty empty, your work was the only thing keeping you sane back then, but now? Now you look forward to get on a train and get back home as soon as possible, to see the cute cuddly ball of fluff that was now napping on your chest, you missed him so much when you were working it was crazy, even seeing Toji who came in the package was exciting to you these days.
“Why can’t you though? I know at first when I met you, it would be difficult to picture you as a good dad…but lately…I see how things have changed. I don’t think you need me as much anymore.” there it was…he knew it was coming.
“I’ve managed to make it work only because of you. It’s weird but now I think about what I have to get from the store every day, how many diapers are left, know his favorite snack and the temperature I need to set his bath for, and now I even know which days I have to take out the trash…Megumi’s mother wouldn’t recognize me if she could see me now. And that’s a good thing.” his boisterous laugh made you smile in response. You hoped he still wanted you around, you’ve been just as anxious as he was, thinking the very same thing, what if he didn’t want you close anymore? What if he decides Megumi needed a proper sitter? What if he got himself a girlfriend and the woman didn’t want you visiting every day?
But being objective that was very unlikely, you even got a set of keys for his apartment last week, the keychain had your name engraved and all, just like Toji’s….it was quite clear he wanted you there. And so did the baby in your arms.
“Well, I don’t know her, but I am very much proud of your growth as a father, Toji-san. You just needed to get used to being a dad, I assume is not that easy…”
“It isn’t. But you look more like a mother than his actual one, so I doubt you’d have any troubles if you ever have a kid.” Big words coming from a man like him…he’s been acting strange the past week and it’s starting to worry him a little. His way of speaking has softened, his dirty jokes stopped, he still flirts with you but who wouldn’t when you look so pretty with his son in your arms, it’s impossible to control the beast to that extent, specially on days you came to his house wearing those tiny shorts of yours, he’s turning into a saint, a blue-balled one, and all because of you, he doesn’t want you to freak out and run away, so he’s been behaving as nicely as he can, very unlike his normal self, he’s used to take what he wants when he wants it, but you were that good.
“It’s just Gumi, he’s so adorable and so well behaved….I guess he makes the maternal side of me come out.” your cute giggles not only woke the baby up but lit up a fire in his father’s body. He wanted to hear you closer, suddenly he was envious of his own child and how he was able to lay on you and cuddle your boobs as if they were pillows, the definition of a good life…
“He was nothing like that until you came though…a demon child. I’m his father though, so I guess it makes sense.” giggling some more just for him, you got up to set the child down in his crib, Toji sitting on the couch hoping you’d follow his lead, which you did, sitting right beside him.
“Well if I tamed the demon child, I must try to tame the demon daddy too then.” You’ve never flirted back, he was almost sure you weren’t interested, this was new, and he was not stupid enough to let it go, scooting himself closer to your warmth to encourage you to continue. “I’m untamable, gorgeous, but you can certainly try…” you didn’t move away, coming even closer to him instead. He’s undeniably hot and he’s changed so much, you thought it’d be hell sharing the same space with this man, but was quite the opposite, his house was now clean enough, his fridge full with food, his son fitting in his clothing as he should and his snarky bite had died down as days went by. 
Flirting became the norm after that.
Toji never thought of getting another wife, he could get all the women he wanted without getting into a relationship but you changed the picture real quick.
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The day had come for the Zenin’s to meet Megumi. 
Toji had been thinking of selling his child to them basically since the day he was born. Even if he hated them, his kid would be worth way more money than he could count. It’s not like he needed the money for anything, or wanted anything really, yet he kept on betting in silly races as that was the only thing he had to look forward to; before you came to his life of course.
Now he wasn’t so sure anymore.
Not only would he not have an excuse to see you every day without Megumi, but he’s also been getting along way better with his son since your arrival.
At first being a parent was just a nuisance to him, but now it wasn’t as much and not only because he got to see you or because you made his life easier, but because he finally understands what his kid wants and has seen how it feels to have a woman around the house, how nice it is to live in a clean environment, to eat delicious home cooked meals every day, how nice it is to get greeted by the door after a long day at work and how nice it is to be welcomed by cute giggles and warm smiles.
Being a dad wasn’t so bad anymore, nor was it the concept of being a husband.
Refusing to meet the old man was a bold move on his part, he was sure he’d have to pay for that decision at some point, but he just couldn’t bare the thought of giving him and the life they had now away just for some money. He could just take a couple more jobs and make up for it,  even if one day Megumi would have to face them straight ahead, that day is still very far from now.
So instead of meeting the old dread, he went over by your school to pick you up and enjoy a nice stroll together on the way home.
The face you made when you saw him and the cute baby half asleep on his shoulders was one to remember.
Joy could be felt within a mile range. You weren’t expecting this, such a nice surprise. “Hello beautiful, got you some of that fancy coffee you like.”handing you the very much needed caffeinated treat, he smiled down at you, a smile like none you’ve seen in the past. He looked so good today, it was doing things to your insides. “Thanks Toji-san I appreciate it. But why are you here? Did something bad happen?”
“Nah, just taking the babe out for some sun…thought of picking up the other babe so she could join us, that’s all…” his confidence was almost intimidating but also very alluring, he was so sexy.
“That does sound fun…” but before you could step out of the school a younger teacher came out looking for you, you dropped your phone and hadn’t even noticed yet. “(Y/N)! Wait! Here, you left this in the class.” her eyes were glued to handsome piece of meat in front of her, annoying you to the point of getting in between the two with a scowl on your face. “Thank you, I didn’t notice. Now if you excuse us….” you leaned closer, taking Megumi off of Toji and into your arms, your free hand landing on Toji’s bicep, in an almost too intense possessive display. Toji on the other hand was thoroughly enjoying this, not only did he have two beautiful women “fighting” for him, but this was the confirmation he was looking for on your end to act upon his feelings.
Taking a hold of your tiny hand in his larger one, he just started walking on the opposite direction, completely ignoring the other girl and dragging his ray of sunshine back home for some quality time together.
Being a dad is complicated.
Being a single dad is even worse.
But thanks to it he found the most wonderful woman the world had to offer .
And yes, he did have some issues to work around still, like his awfully dangerous job and betting addiction, but for someone as broken and rough as him to get someone so soft and fantastic was worth any sort of sacrifice, for his babe-one and babe-two as he started calling you guys, a term that would soon enough be changed to ‘family’, he could do anything…
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
Masterlist
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how much of a flirt is harvey specter with his s/o and what does that look like? 👀
Harvey Specter/AFAB!Reader
Warnings: Nothing, just fluff. Fluff and banter.
Rating: T
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"Is this seat taken?"
The question makes you lips curl with a smile, though you keep your eyes set stalwartly on your phone as you write out in email.
"The air's occupying it pretty heavily," You offer.
"Do you mind if I join you?"
"If you must."
You don't have to look to know that the remainder of the bar is unoccupied, and there's no doubt as to why the man's bothered to sit beside you. You don't even bother to get a look at your new companion.
"Do you come here often?" He asks, and you can't help but scoff a laugh.
"Really? That's your opening line?"
"Technically, my opening line was 'is this seat taken'. This is just my second ice breaker."
"The fact that you need a second ice breaker is concerning."
"You haven't answered it."
"It wouldn't help you. I never answer that honestly."
"Why not?"
"In case you're some weirdo stalker."
"At least I'd be a weirdo stalker with money."
"You'd have to be. A damn gimlet costs $40 here. It's horrifying."
"It's Manhattan."
"I know bars where you can get a gimlet for a reasonable price."
"Why aren't you there now?"
"Because I'm meeting someone. He'll need that seat, by the way."
"He won't."
"No? And why's that?"
"You'll be too in love with me by the time he gets here."
"Well. He is late already," You eye the time before you finally lower your phone, turning to get a look at the man. He's smiling warmly at you, his dark eyes glimmering with mirth. Sweeping your gaze over his suit, and you find his tie just a touch askew.
"...I guess you'll do for now," You sigh forlornly.
"I'm flattered."
"You should be. I'm throwing a good man over for you."
"A late good man?"
"Not the first time, certainly won't be the last."
"Any man that leaves you on your own ought to be drawn and quartered."
"I don't mind some time to myself."
"Secure. I like that."
"Is that all you like?"
"Hardly, but we'll start there."
"Erm...Ma'am?"
The two of you turn your heads at the sound of the tentative interruption by the bartender. You arch a brow, urging them on, and they add, "This man isn't bothering you, is he?"
You grin, unable to help it, and knowing that Harvey's doing the same.
"Yes, but it's alright. He's my husband, so he bothers me all the time."
"Oh," They chuckle, nodding, "Is there anything that I could get you, sir?"
"Macallan, neat."
"And another for you, ma'am?"
"Please."
"Coming right up."
You reach out, straightening Harvey's tie. His gaze lingers on you, and he catches hold of your hand before you can pull it away.
"You're late," You admonish.
"I know, I'm sorry. A deposition ran over," He leans in, lips brushing yours, "And traffic was awful."
"Why don't you just take the train?"
"Mm."
"I know it has some issues, but Manhattan traffic, my god—"
"Would you shut up and let me kiss you?" He murmurs, the feeling of it buzzing your lips. You grin, raising your free hand to cup his jaw and press your lips warmly to his. He sighs softly, lowering his hand to your leg and sweeping his thumb gently over the exposed skin of your knee.
"Let's bag dinner," He mumbles, "I want to take you home now."
"Dinner first, Specter," You pat his cheek and turn back toward your phone. "I'm willing to bet you haven't eaten since this morning."
Harvey just grunts in annoyance, leaning in and brushing his lips against your neck, only drawing away as the bartender sets his Macallan down.
"Your table is nearly ready, Mrs. Specter," They add, smiling at you and setting down your fresh drink.
"Thank you."
You hear Harvey huff softly, and you turn, brow furrowing.
"What is it?"
"Nothing," He shakes his head, a fond smile on his lips as he lowers his drink. "I just never get tired of hearing that."
TLDR: He flirts with them a lot
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makeste · 5 months
Text
Plus One For All
so guys. can we talk about how there’s somebody chilling out inside of Katsuki’s mind who’s not supposed to be there.
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hello there Mister All Might Vestige sir. you should not exist, just FYI. you’re not some Nighteye-type plot hallucination. because if you were, you would not be appearing here as Cloud Might, a version of yourself whom Katsuki has never met and has no frame of reference for. ergo he did not imagine you. ergo you are, in fact, real.
which means Katsuki has One For All.
because that’s the only way he could have a Vestige -- which is indisputably what this is -- inside of him. he has OFA. so. where did he get it. how does he have it. and why is it only making its presence known now.
let’s discuss.
okay so I’m going to try and lay this all out as clearly as possible while also attempting to be as succinct as I can. but knowing me, I’m probably going to wind up sacrificing the latter in pursuit of the former. I’ll do my best though. here goes.
1. Heroes Rising is canon.
which is a fact we’ve recently been reminded of not once, but twice -- first with the appearance of Katsuma and Mahoro in chapter 405, and then in chapter 406 with the “Bakugou no Kacchan” callback. the timing of this almost certainly isn’t coincidental. Horikoshi wants this to be fresh in our minds.
mind you, it is extremely unusual for movies, even technically!canon ones, to actually be relevant to the plot. but BnHA may be one of the few exceptions. we’ve already seen movie 1 impact the series both with Star & Stripe’s backstory, and with Deku’s new gauntlets. so there’s precedent, and it’s something I am paying very close attention to.
2. Deku giving OFA to Bakugou is canon.
just in case anyone here hasn’t yet seen or been spoiled for Heroes Rising, that is in fact what happens in that film! so yeah, that certainly seems like an extremely relevant detail right about now.
3. we never found out why and how Deku got OFA back at the end of the movie.
okay so I was looking for a clip to link before we discuss this next part, but I unfortunately couldn’t find one that hadn’t been edited to avoid copyright issues, so you’ll just have to make do with this.
skip ahead to about 7:10 for the relevant part. for the purposes of this theory, we’re just going to ignore everything All Might says here, because tbh he has no fucking clue what’s actually going on and is just guessing wildly lol. however, I do want you to take note of one thing which will be important later. and that’s the fact that, when OFA “returns” to Deku’s body, it’s only his body which starts glowing, and notably not Kacchan’s. the latter just keeps lying there unglowingly. nothing to indicate any kind of transfer is actually happening between him and Deku, in other words.
moving on.
4. OFA and AFO are probably the same quirk.
as summarized here and here. which is relevant because if they are the same quirk, or close to it, then OFA can most likely do anything AFO can do. so file that away for later.
5. AFO was able to split his quirk and give it to Tomura while still keeping a piece of it for himself.
what’s more, he was able to do the same with Garaki/Ujiko’s quirk, and presumably other quirks as well. while it’s possible that this quirk duplication has nothing to do with AFO and is simply something Garaki was able to figure out using ~*~Science~*~, I think it’s more likely that the two of them used AFO’s quirk in some way to accomplish this feat. particularly since Tomura not only received AFO, but a bunch of its stored up quirkdata as well, such as the information stored in Ragdoll’s stolen Search quirk.
6. OFA responds to Deku’s feelings and desires.
or at least this is the case according to Banjou in chapter 213. recall this interesting conversation on how Deku first activated Blackwhip.
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he was thinking that he wanted to capture Monoma, and so OFA obediently activated his “capture Monoma” quirk. despite him being unaware he even had said quirk. it responded to his need, even though he wasn’t consciously trying to activate anything.
now then, let’s revisit that scene in Heroes Rising one more time.
7. during the climax of Heroes Rising, Deku was NOT thinking, “I need to give OFA to Kacchan.”
here’s the scene one more time for reference. this time you’re gonna want to skip to about 3:57.
here’s where we are going to get extremely technical, because this scene right here is the key to everything. Deku’s lines in this scene are, and I quote: “a way we can protect [everyone]... there’s just one way...!” but he very notably does not specify exactly what that “one way” is.
until we get to this scene a minute or so later, which spells it out for us very clearly.
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two One For Alls. as in, “with two One For Alls, we could win this battle and save everyone.”
that’s what he was thinking at the moment of the “transfer.” NOT, “give OFA to Kacchan.” but, “we need two One For Alls.”
which, I think, may have made all the difference.
8. OFA created a copy of itself to share with Kacchan, so that both of them could have OFA and use the two OFAs to defeat Nine.
let’s recap. OFA is AFO. AFO can clone itself. so it stands to reason that OFA can presumably clone itself as well. and that’s exactly what Deku wanted to do. make a second One For All.
he didn’t know that he could do that. but as previously established in the Blackwhip incident, OFA is more than capable of making its own executive decisions in key moments just like this in order to help him out.
which would mean that what we saw at the end of Heroes Rising was not OFA being transferred from Bakugou back over to Deku. it was actually just Deku’s OFA briefly self-activating (possibly in response to his delirious apology to All Might -- kind of a “no worries bro, you’ve still got your quirk actually, so go back to sleep and stop stressing over it” type of thing). and Kacchan’s OFA doing... absolutely nothing. it didn’t actually transfer back into Deku. it didn’t actually go anywhere.
let me repeat that: it didn’t actually go anywhere.
in other words, Kacchan still has OFA. and has had it ever since Heroes Rising. he just didn’t realize it. and neither did anybody else.
9. Kacchan’s OFA went dormant once Nine was defeated.
okay, so. remember all of this exposition from chapter 304?
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basically, if someone who already has a quirk receives OFA, using it will slowly destroy their body until it kills them. the Vestiges learned this from All Might while he was researching the past generations of OFA in chapter 241, incidentally. Heroes Rising takes place right around this same time (immediately following MVA if I recall). so by the time the film’s climax rolled around, the Vestiges would have known that giving OFA to Kacchan could have devastating consequences down the line if they did not take action immediately after the fight.
so they did.
once Nine was defeated, the Vestiges shut the whole thing down. the crisis was averted, and they no longer had need of a second OFA. they have this boy who is way too similar to Deku in terms of his willingness to put himself in harm’s way in order to achieve his goals. and they absolutely do not want any harm befalling this boy. more on that momentarily.
so they go dark. and they even seal his memory so that he’s no longer aware of even having the quirk. they are essentially in sleep mode. and if circumstances hadn’t eventually become desperate enough to force their hand, they might have remained inactive for the rest of Katsuki’s life.
now, you might be wondering to yourself, “why is OFA willing to go to such unusual lengths in order to protect Katsuki?” and well, the answer to that is pretty simple.
10. Kacchan does not have the same version of OFA as Deku.
Deku is ninth gen. Katsuki, however, is tenth gen. which means that his version of OFA has one additional Vestige. a Vestige whose presence immediately explains why OFA is so goddamn determined to protect him at all costs.
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:’)
long story short, while Deku’s version of OFA has proven itself all too willing to enable him in his increasingly suicidal mission, Katsuki’s version of OFA is very much a different story, on account of it being under the management of what I’m guessing is the most willful Vestige ever to exist. and said management being just the slightest bit unhinged when it comes to Katsuki’s safety in particular. seriously, you can’t tell me this is not exactly how a Deku!Vestige would behave. “oh hell no. no OFA for you!! and no memories either, because you can’t be trusted, goddammit. we never should have done this. what the hell were we thinking. if anything happens to him I will kill everyone in this room and then myself.”
so yeah. dormant.
right up until they literally couldn’t afford to be anymore.
11. OFA can self-activate in moments of crisis to protect its user.
Sports Festival. chapter 33. Deku vs. Shinsou.
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aw yeah. it’s all coming together.
12. OFA reactivated itself in order to save Katsuki’s life.
I would now like to briefly draw your attention to this scene from chapter 405, in which Edgeshot explains how Katsuki was finally saved. please note my man is very clear that he did not restart Katsuki’s heart himself. he was basically just performing quirk CPR up until Katsuki’s own quirk returned him to life apropros of nothing.
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“what brought you back... was the power you’ve honed.”
except... that should have been impossible. because Katsuki was dead. meaning he should not have been able to activate his quirk on his own, on account of the whole “being dead” thing.
however, if he by chance had a quirk with just enough of a mind of its own to activate in critical situations in order to help its user. situations like being forced under mind control. or, perhaps, being stabbed through the heart. well then. that would certainly go a long way towards explaining all of this.
and oh hey, when exactly was it that we saw this guy, again?
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oh? it happened at the exact moment when his heart was stabbed through? you don’t say. well that certainly is interesting.
in summary:
Deku cloned his quirk in Heroes Rising and gave Kacchan a copy of OFA. owing to the hyperprotective Deku!Vestige inside Kacchan’s copy of OFA, it shut itself down once Nine was defeated, and all of Katsuki’s memories of having OFA were deliberately wiped, or sealed away. OFA itself remained inactive until TomurAFO stabbed Katsuki through the heart, at which point OFA was forced to reactivate itself to save his life. which it did, by forcibly restarting his heart.
that’s it. no idea how close to the money any of this is, but I think it would explain most of the lingering mysteries and questions about what exactly is going on with Katsuki. and I’ll throw in one last observation as well -- Katsuki has a nine in his name (BaKUgou), but not a ten. which I know sort of contradicts what I was saying earlier about him being the tenth gen, lol. but he both is and isn’t. if Deku split his quirk, Kacchan would in theory receive everything that’s currently in Deku’s quirk right now, and that includes Deku’s own power that he’s been adding to the mix. so he’d still have the Deku!Vestige. but he’s also still ninth gen, because he and Deku are sharing that distinction now. or at least I think the argument could be made at any rate.
so yeah. I’ve been obsessing over all of this for the past few days lol. what do you guys think?
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