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archonsbitch · 2 years ago

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ℭ𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔞

note: I've decided to cross-post it on AO3, so you can find it there under the same name ;3

warnings: light cursing

previous chapters: Introduction

next chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Vacation...?

Soothing summer breeze, lulling sound of waves.. Even with your eyes closed you could feel a pleasant warmth on your skin as gentle sunrays seemed to kiss your cheeks. Oh, what a wonderful dream you had right now. You could feel all the stress from this week’s work dissipate into nothingness…

Speaking of your job. Constant shouting of your boss, absolutely uninteresting gossip all around the office, endless spiral of stress and despair as you have spent days over those stupid reports that ‘had to be done yesterday, but whoops, we forgot to tell you’. As if everyone suddenly decided to bring you to the edge of madness and provoke a few crimes of passion, huh. Yeah, screw it all. Mulling over the last weeks events you sighted.

When did your life get so dull and uninspiring?

Office job was, of course, not the worst one you could have, especially if you compare it to the one of those poor souls who have to work at the customer service (bless them and their patience, truly - astonishing) and some may even consider it somewhat prestigious… Yet, a beautiful facade always hides something hopelessly glum. Hustler mentality? As if there was something exceptional to hustle for! And yet your checks were only covering your rent (have you tried finding a decently priced nice flat in the bustling city full of workaholics? Bet, even Sherlock Holmes would struggle searching for it on all those listing websites) and some necessities that included: Netflix subscription, freezer full of ice cream baskets and those small trinkets that you happened to spend ridiculous amounts on. But, hey, they did make your life less miserable! Occasional thought of grabbing a few drinks at a bar with your friends on a pay day has recently been pushed away due to the crippling thought of waking up with a shitty hangover (they do not get better with age and your college self would have been embarrassed about you suddenly being a lightweight, but, alas).

And it’s not like you could suddenly drop your job and start a life changing adventure to the middle of nowhere, those bills won’t pay themselves… The only vacation you could afford was either a nice walk straight to the depths of hell that is your office desk or, as an alternative, logging into Genshin Impact and completing your daily commissions. Yes, Genshin did give you everything you have ever wanted from a game: breathtaking sceneries, outstanding lore, sexy characters, exceptional music, inexplicably hot characters, exotic places, those absolutely gorgeous people… Ahem. Ah, screw it, you were in a desperate need of vacation, that’s for sure. If even your dreams are now nudging you to go to a beach? Yeah, a break was needed.

And thinking of dreams.. With your eyes still closed you could hear a somewhat distant murmuring nearby. Huh? Since when people in dreams started speaking gibberish? And why did your cheeks burn from being exposed to the sun…

At that you decided that it’s finally time to open your eyes and sit down. Woah! The sea right in front of your eyes was mesmerizing. Stretching and yawning like a cat who has just had a full-course royal meal of a few tuna cans you got up and finally glanced at a place where you have heard people quietly conversing.

A young looking blonde male with a braid that could make all those shampoo commercials’ models green with envy was carefully observing your now standing form from a distance. Next to him, a small white something that strangely resembled a child was currently busy with waving their arms and shouting something inarticulate at you.

Aether and Paimon, huh. It’s not as if your brain even tried to hesitate deciding who it was upon seeing them. An interesting addition to your dream, indeed. But why was Paimon shouting again? And WHAT was she shouting exactly? What, Morpheus did not foresee an auto translation feature in his dream kingdom?

Tilting your head in confusion you’ve sent her a puzzled look hoping for her to catch onto your unspoken question. Looking at your perplexed face expression the little fairy has finally stopped abusing her throat and started anxiously waving her hands, pointing at something that was supposedly right behind you.

Bloop..Bloop…Bloop…

Turning your head at a lightspeed you have finally noticed the presence of a blue blob that was currently jumping towards you. A hydro slime. A hydro slime?! What in the Genshin Impact…You knew what it was, obviously, and if you consider all the slimes that you have murdered while playing this game, no wonder that it has suddenly decided to start its revenge arc aiming right at your left ankle. But you cannot get hurt in your dreams, right? Well, as soon as the blob, who seemingly didn’t have a single thought behind those big round eyes, finally bumped at your leg, you have felt a sudden sharp pain in your ankle… Great.

Well, apparently you can get hurt in dreams and that was not what you have signed up for! Not wasting a second longer you straight up bolted towards the watching duo. Hiding behind Aether, who was seemingly unaffected by this ordeal, you started waving your hands as if you were Paimon’s lost twin.

- Why are you standing here as a mannequin, it is going to hurt us!

As if responding to your panicked cry Aether has finally decided to stop his game of peepers, sighting deeply. Stepping towards the blob he has now materialized his sword (the almighty Dull blade, you notice!).

Aaand ... Slash.

The blob is gone, the world is saved, hotel? Trivago.

Both, you and Paimon have let out a breath that you were holding. You looked at the crime scene in front of your eyes: the only remains of an annihilated slime were some splashes, that were currently being absorbed in the sand.

- Nice moves you’ve got there Aether!

You have always thought of yourself as someone good at communication, the one who could pretty much predict where any conversation was flowing. Yet, the only thing that you have not anticipated was a dull blade pointed right at your throat after that exact sentence.

Nani the fuck?!

Buckle up! We are going to throw a Bilbo Baggins move and embark on a journey. Not that the reader has a choice anyway... ;)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact isekai #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #genshin imagines #genshin impact #various characters #aether #genshin fanfic #genshin x you

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starstruckunknown-princess · 2 years ago

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I Smell Snow

Pairing: Modern! Oberyn Martell x F!Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Word Count: 586

Summary: You have a strange talent for being able to tell when it’s about to snow. When you smell the first snow coming, you insist your boyfriend Oberyn join you to watch the snow fall.

A/N: Fluffcember day 7 (that I forgot to post yesterday cuz I got busy!), and I may or may not have stolen the inspo for this scene directly from an episode of Gilmore Girls...oh, well, it’s cute and fluffy and I love grumpy, cold Oberyn! Enjoy!

“You are insane,” Oberyn grumbled, slouching further into his winter jacket. “I checked the weather, my love, they said it wasn’t going to snow tonight.”

“You know my nose never lies,” you protested, tugging him along with you by your entwined hands.

It was the middle of the night and you had woken when the familiar smell hit your nostrils. Ozone and chill and snow. You never could describe it, even as a child you’d been able to smell when the snow was about to fall. Growing up in the Riverlands you’d had plenty of chances to test this odd talent.

This was Oberyn’s first time experiencing your ability, much to his dismay. The two of you were visiting your family for the holidays, and the poor Dornishman was unused to the cold. He could hardly remember the last time he’d even seen snow.

But you loved the snow. Every magical moment of your life happened during snowfall. Your first real kiss, your university acceptance letter, the beginning (and merciful end) of your marriage.

“I still don’t see why you’ve dragged me from my soft, warm bed to stand in the middle of an empty courtyard in the middle of the gods-damned night,” Oberyn continued to pout and you couldn’t help but giggle at him. He looked positively miserable, shrugged back in his puffy winter coat. The tip of his regal nose and his ears were turning pink in the cold, his lips formed into a perfect frown. Underneath his coat he wore his pajamas, that is to say, only his pajama pants because he preferred to sleep topless. You could see the angry regret on his face just as easily as you could see your breaths condensing in the air with every exhale.

You rose on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

“If I freeze my balls off, I’m holding you responsible.”

“You balls will be fine,” you said, trying to placate him with a quick squeeze of his hand.

“You have one more minute out here, then we are going back inside and you will apologize to my frozen balls,” Oberyn tried to come off stern, but you could hear the smirk in his voice. You nodded, but kept your eyes on the starless night sky. “I swear to you, my love, the weather forecast said no snow tonight, maybe not for weeks—”

His protest was cut off because just then, large white flakes began to fall from the sky. You sighed in delight and let your head fall back. Oberyn’s eyes turned to you, watching you in your joy. How the lights lighting your brother’s courtyard lit up your skin, the slight smile on your lips. You looked like you did when you were having the most wonderful dreams. A rush of affection pulsed through his veins while he took you in. He loved you. He would stand naked as his nameday in the middle of a blizzard north of the North if you wanted him to.

“I told you,” you said, turning your face toward him, “The nose never lies.”

Instead of answering, he pulled your face toward his and kissed you as the snow fell harder. His hands were cold against your neck and you squealed at the contact — Oberyn was always warm, he radiated the Dornish sun he was raised under — so his cold hands came as a shock.

“Can we go inside now, love?” he asked, “I need you to warm me up.”

#oberyn martell x reader #oberyn martell x you #prince oberyn #pedro pascal #cold night #oberyn x reader #oberyn x you #house martell #snow #i smell snow #game of thrones fic #game of thrones fanfic #got fic #fluffcember #writing challenge #fanfiction

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wimble-warcrime · 3 years ago

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Call Me Alpha - Part 3

synopsis: the aftermath of the experiment is so much different than you expected, and now you're convinced Bakugou hates you. Little do you know, he's more worried than you think...

warnings: descriptions of injuries to ears, interpreting bakugous actions as aggressive, reader is plain dumb

author notes: I forgot to post this yesterday! I was busy gardening, and my dumbass hadn't even finished it!

Hc's | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part4

The blast was so much louder than you anticipated. Your oversight to bring ear protection did you both in as the two of you collapsed from the ringing and dizziness in your ears.

What felt like an eternity of pain and ringing was really only a few seconds and you felt someone's hands on your back, stroking in a comforting manner. Everything was too quiet and too loud all at once.

You looked up to find your neighbour's mother looking down at you, moving her mouth, yet no sound was coming out. Then you remembered your test subject and made to get up and check on him.

Only when you looked up over the plywood barrier, you saw a significant lack of privacy fencing where it should have been. Singed in some parts, and the neighboring garden was not looking good either.

Your eyes landed on his hunched over form, where his dad was signing to him rapidly. Strange, you didn't know that he knew sign language.

Looking back on it, it made sense, having a quirk that could do such significant damage to one's ears, it was a smart move to learn it early incase something like that situation ever happened.

The two of you were rushed to the hospital. The doctor concluded that you would be temporarily deaf for a day or two at most, but your neighbour, having been closer to the blast, was going to need extended care. He would recover, thankfully, but he would need a hearing aid in his right ear if it didn't get better.

Your dad was informed of this event, and came rushing over to the hospital as soon as he got the call. When he got to you, your neighbour's mom told him what you assumed was the diagnosis, and handed him a pen and notepad for communication.

He scribbled something down; what happened? You took the pen and pad, flipping to a new page, and wrote down as legibly as you could; we were testing out quirk enhancing equipment.

Obviously your thesis was correct; that blast was amplified. But the glove, as you later found out was completely ruined. And the two of you were hospitalized for it. It worked to well, sadly.

Part of you hoped he would still be okay experimenting further, with much more protection equipment involved. But the bigger part anticipated a lack of enthusiasm and even hostility if you ever showed your face again.

These latter fears of yours were confirmed, when he all but lunged at you to get you away from him. Your teary eyes witnessed him thrashing around on his hospital bed as he tried to get to you, thankfully his mom and dad restrained him. You left with your father, a renewed vigor to try and mend whatever strange relationship you had before.

You got home, and ran outside to gather the destroyed glove and camera; you anticipated that they would be in ruins from the size of the blast, pleasantly surprised to find out that the camera had not sustained any damage. The glove though, was a whole other story. Ruined to the point of unidentifiabilty if didn't know what it was before.

You had to start all over again. But that could wait, for now, you want to just curl up in bed, and sleep away the days woes. And that's exactly what you did, but not before reviewing the footage; the blast was huge, so big infact that you questioned as to why the police weren't called. Your neighbours must have resolved this. In the video, you saw that after the blast, he was trying to crawl over to where you were hunched over behind the plywood. You assumed it was to throtle you to the point of death, but his parents intervened before his attempt on your life could be enacted. You saw that his ear was bleeding when you zoomed in.

You felt awful, and as the days events weighed down on you, you didnt even have enough energy to brush your teeth, or change out of your clothes. You passed out in your bed, without having eaten anything.

×+×+×+×+

Your rest was fitful at best, and you woke up at 4:30 a.m to a growling stomach, and an incredible sadness weighing down on you. It occurred to you that the suppressants would have worn off by now, so your inner omega was probably depressed at the thought of harming an alpha. You quickly rushed to go take a suppressant, and brushed your teeth while you waited for it to kick in. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and sadness was soon alleviated, and you could finally take in a fully breath without the dry heaving you got when having cried to much.

You realised that you were to awake to try and get more sleep, plus your rumbling stomach would only get worse if you tried to ignore it.

You settled on going down to the kitchen and making some food. You always felt so at peace when cooking, and soon enough you had spaced out, continuing your endeavor on auto pilot. Your mind registered the movements as chopping and frying, but your eyes didn't fully process the actions. You could hear faintly some sounds, mostly the louder ones as you cooked. You came to, and saw a pot of yellowish soup. It smelled like chicken and thyme.

You had made chicken noodle soup, and alot of it too. You cursed yourself when you realised what had happened, and blamed your inner omega at the thought; you made it with the intent to give it to your wounded alp- neighbour. He was your neighbour.

You ate some, feeling an over whelming sense of nostalgia coursing through you. After polishing off two whole bowls, you packed up the rest into to containers: one for you and your father, and one to bring over to the neighbours house.

It was 8:30 by the time you'd finished up the dishes and packing up the food. You waited a few more hours, going up to write a note to your neighbour, explaining what had happened and how you hoped he would forgive you, or at the very least, try to not hate you as mush as you assumed he had.

You napped for a bit, the toll of waking up so early and a full belly lulling you to a dull rest.

When awoke, it was noon. You made no haste to go over and leave the food. You hoped it would be one of his parents you encountered and not him. You were a coward for hoping for this, but you really only cared that he got the message and soup.

You wandered over after dressing in something more appropriate than yesterday's dirty clothes. You rang the bell, and to your relief, his dad was there. Your ears were fully back to normal now, so you spoke to him and could hear him just fine. He had no outward hostility like you anticipated, infact when he saw you, he released some calming hormones to alleviate any worry or stress you'd felt.

"I made some soup for him, as an apology. I doubt he wants to see me, so I'll be going now, but make sure he gets the note?" You rushed away before he could respond.

What you didn't know, was Bakugou Katsuki was up in his room, stressing out over whether or not you were okay. He could've cared less that he was injured. He had been so worried, and when he saw you in the hospital, instinct took over and he tried his hardest to get to you. Even before that, after the blast, he had tried crawling over to you to ensure your safety. Your father had ushered you out of his hospital room at his manic display and sudden erratics. He wanted to make sure that his omega was okay. But of course he was too wounded to help.

Ever since he'd noticed your sweet elderberry smell in class, he new that you two were meant to be. It was rare that fated pairs were ever united, and he wasn't about to pass up this opportunity. Of course, there were things he wanted to accomplish before he confessed and bonded with you, like graduating high-school, and becoming the number one hero in all of Japan. He was confident that you would accept when the time came.

He'd been admiring you from afar for longer than he'd like to admit, enticed by your creativity and intelligence. How you sought out challenges and worked on something until it was perfected. So he jumped at the chance to spend time with you whe you offered.

Of course, he was still abrasive and standoffish, but his nervousness and excitement to see you made all the more difficult to cull his regular attitude. And you weren't stupid, you'd notice right away if he started being nice to you. He wanted to slowly build up a relationship with you, and acting out of norm was a one way ticket to the friend zone in his eyes.

Katsuki looked up to see his dad peaking his head through the doorway, not wanting to intrude on what looked to be like some seriously heavy thinking. He signed to his son to come down, expecting his hearing to have not returned within the last 2 hours.

Katsuki signed back asking why. His dad's response was that you had brought over soup. His whole demeanor changed at this, as he bolted out of bed and raced down to the kitchen. There he saw a container filled with yellow soup. The contents were still warm as far as he could tell, and when he opened it up, the pungent smell of chicken and thyme filled his senses. It smell amazing. He was tempted to polish off the whole thing for himself but saved half for his dad to share with him.

He was always much tamer and quiet when around his father. He always attributed it to him being and omega and how Katsuki was an alpha. But maybe they just had a better relationship than him and his mother.

His dad followed after him, casually strolling into the kitchen to plate up his portion of the soup. They tried it together, and whether or not Katsuki was aware of it, he moaned out ever so slightly at the taste. Clearly enjoying the soup.

It was strange to see him so enamored with something that he didn't make himself. But he was still happy he found someone to be around.

He remembered how nervous you were when you came to the door. He could tell that you were and omega on suppressants. Any omega can tell that. He obviously knew based off of what his son had told him, that you were very insecure about you second gender. In all honesty, both him and his son were convinced you were going to be an alpha. Always such a rowdy little thing.

Before he forgot, he handed Katsuki the note that had accompanied the soup. He watched with subtle intent as he unfolded and read the piece of paper;

Bakugou, I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. I was ill prepared for the experiment, and now your are suffering because of my oversight. I know that this won't be nearly enough of an apology, but I do hope that you enjoy the soup and heal up soon. I expect that you wish to not see me again after the events that transpired, and I don't blame you. Again, I hope you recover fully, and quickly,

-L/N Y/N

Katsuki was understanding of your sentiment, and a bit angry that you would assume he blamed you for what happened. Of course, he would give you few days to wallow before he made an attempt at communicating, only for a little pay back.

He polished of the soup, thanking whatever higher power that you could cook such good food. And then headed upstairs to take a nap. He was against this routine from the moment it was mentioned, but doctors orders were to rest. No strenuous activities or quirk usage for 3 weeks. This would put his training for the Yuuei entrance exam back by a lot, but he knew that healing properly was the priority. He could do some light exercises, which were even encouraged by his doctor, but his mom would throw a fit if she caught him out of bed longer than an hour.

As he waited for sleep to take him, he pondered all of the way he could take your relationship to the next level, which was actually becoming friends. He didn't finish his train of thought before he passed out.

#bnha #bnha abo #bnha omegaverse #mha #mha omegaverse #abo #bnha fanfic #bnha bakugo katsuki #alpha bakugou #bakugou katuski x reader

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silvfyre-writings · 2 years ago

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Aizawa Cares Pt. 24 (MHA Fanfic)

Hi, yes, I forgot to post this yesterday omg. I got in the car to work this morning and went "shit, I didn't post the chapter" but here it is now! It's time for Aoyama to shine! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!!!

Okay, so, usually the way I work is that I try to be a chapter ahead so that if something happens I still have something to post. Well, I've now not gotten ahead. And it's also heading towards December so I'm becoming rather busy ugh.

The next update, as a result, will come on the 1st January, 2023.

HOWEVER! If I do complete the next chapter before then, I will post it, but just in case I can't get it finished in time, that date will be the next chapter post. Thank you all for understanding and I'll see you all in the new year (with this fic at least, and hopefully sooner haha)

Aoyama is crying.

It certainly wasn’t a strange sight for Aizawa to walk in on, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d walked in on one of his students crying. Hell, he often caught Midoriya crying about some thing or another at least once a day; he was surprised Midoriya even had any tears left to cry out by now.

But yes, Aizawa was no stranger to tears. The only question he had was what Aoyama could possibly be crying about. Nothing immediately came to mind; he hadn’t put his class through the usual rigorous training he did, and he hadn’t heard about the other teachers giving them a test so bad that even Yaoyorozu had been brought to tears. Poor Ectoplasm hadn’t realized just how hard he’d made the test until his students had approached him for help—something that they never did unless the situation was dire. Or someone got hurt. But all was well and mathematics had yet to claim a life.

That still didn’t tell him why Aoyama was currently on the kitchen floor, an empty packet of cheese in front of him, and sobbing his heart out, and Aizawa was a little terrified to find out just what could reduce the boy to such tears in the first place. “Aoyama?” Aizawa questioned as he approached his student, coming to crouch beside the boy, resting a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “What happened?”

Aoyama looked up at him, tears running down his cheeks. “Someone ate my cheese, Aizawa-sensei.”

Oh. Aizawa glanced at the empty cheese packet sitting on the floor. Yep, it was definitely empty and Aizawa had honestly thought that Aoyama had eaten it, but clearly that wasn’t the case. He’d witnessed just how passionate the boy was about his cheese, often sharing different kinds of cheeses with his classmates; however, unless Aoyama actually offered, the class knew to leave the cheese alone. But this time, one of his students had broken that rule.

“Did you do what I told you all to do?” Aizawa asked gently.

Aoyama nodded. “I put it in a container and labelled it and someone ate it!” The boy’s words rose until his voice was practically wailing.

“Alright, I know it’s upsetting that someone ate your food, but I need you to calm down for me, okay kiddo? Take a breath and wipe your tears.”

Aoyama did as he was told, his lip wobbling as he tried to stop himself from crying. It tugged at Aizawa’s heartstrings. It was such a simple thing to get upset over, but that didn’t mean that Aoyama’s feelings were any less valid. So, he reached over and tugged the boy into his side. His student lost the fight against the tears and began to cry again. This time, Aizawa let the boy cry it all out on his shoulder.

“Write down what cheese it was that was eaten, and I’ll try to get it replaced for you.”

Aoyama nodded into Aizawa’s shirt, a muffled ‘thank you’ coming from the boy.

Aizawa was going to find out who ate that cheese if that was the last thing he did, but first, he needed to help Aoyama calm down. He continued to hold onto Aoyama, not saying anything but just holding his student carefully. After some time had passed, Aoyama seemed to calm down, his sobs quietening into sniffles, and his tears coming to a halt. Still, the boy clung to him and showed no signs of moving.

"How about we get you to your room and you can have a rest?" Aizawa suggested.

Aoyama simply nodded, and didn’t resist when Aizawa guided them both into a standing position; Aizawa then leading his student up the stairs to his dorm room. The entire walk, Aoyama didn’t say anything, just kept his head down and finally pulled away from him when they reached his room. A quiet ‘thanks’ came from his student, and he watched as the door slowly shut behind Aoyama.

Letting out a sigh, Aizawa pinched the bridge of his nose, mentally preparing himself for the following conversation he had to have with his class. Hopefully, whoever ate Aoyama’s cheese would own up to it, and fast, because he did not want this to become a regular occurrence; a detention and buying replacement cheese should be enough of a deterrent. As he made his way back down the stairs to the common room, he tapped out a message and sent it to his students—minus Aoyama of course—telling them all to come to the common room immediately.

Now all he had to do was wait.

One by one, his class trickled into the dorm, eyeing each other anxiously and slowly approached where Aizawa stood. He’d put his most unimpressed face on for this moment, eyes narrowed. It had the intended effect, for none of his students dared to speak, only taking a seat wherever they could. Midoriya walked into the room, his entire body trembling. If it were any of his other students, Aizawa would take it as a sign of guilt, but this was Midoriya, who quite frankly, was easily frightened. Still, Aizawa watched the boy sit next to Iida and Todoroki, politely nodding at them before turning his attention to Aizawa.

All he was waiting on now was the stragglers, those that had probably been in the midst of something when his message had gone through. And he was right when Bakugo stormed into the dorm, drenched in sweat and ranting about being interrupted; the rest of the boy’s friend group following behind.

“Please don’t sit on anything, Bakugo.” Aizawa said, not feeling up to trying to get nitroglycerin out of the furniture.

“I’m not stupid!” Bakugo snarled, and continued to stomp towards the bathrooms. “I’ll be back!”

Aizawa let Bakugo go, turning his attention back to his class, taking a mental count of who was here. Everyone had arrived, which meant that once Bakugo returned, he could begin. It didn’t take long for the explosive boy to return, free of sweat, yet Bakugo still chose to sit on the floor.

“Right, we can begin.” Aizawa said, but before he could continue, he was interrupted. By Iida naturally.

“But, Aizawa-sensei! Aoyama is not here and you said everyone had to be here in your message!”

“Aoyama is not present because he is the reason I have called you here.” Aizawa narrowed his eyes at Iida, who straightened and gave a single nod. “Now. I do not care what your opinion on the matter is, nor do I want you teasing or mocking your fellow student for what I’m about to bring to your attention. Aoyama did not ask me to do this, I did. Am I understood?”

“Yes, Sensei.” His class echoed quietly, each one of them looking uneasy.

“Now, I am aware that Aoyama likes to share his cheese with you all, and that’s his business to do so. However, Aoyama has expressed that the cheese in the labelled containers is only to be eaten by him, as is the rule in this dorm.” Aizawa pulled out the empty container he’d picked up on the way, showing the labelled lid to his class. A few of them seemed to pick up on what the problem was and paled. “One of you has broken this rule. One of you decided to ignore the fact that the food in this container was not yours and ate it anyway. And I expect that whichever one of you did this, will be mature enough to own up to it, because your actions caused your classmate a great deal of distress, and that is unacceptable.”

Aizawa paused to let the words sink in, yet no one immediately owned up to the cheese. He imagined it was because the culprit was scared of what might happen to them if they did. He did tend to forget how threatening he could be when he wanted to, and that his students were about as forthcoming as rocks when he was actually mad. He sighed, and lessened his glare. “The punishment will be the following; detention, buying a replacement of the exact cheese that was given, and a handwritten and verbal apology to Aoyama.”

Finally, after several minutes of tense silence, Sero raised his hand, doing his best to avoid making eye contact with anyone. “It was me, Sensei.”

Aizawa nodded. “Everyone else but Sero, leave. Now.”

His class was quick to take the escape, practically fleeing the room and heading upstairs. Not one of them seemed to want to dare to leave the dorm with how angry he was. Sero’s friends gave him sympathetic glances as they too, fled upstairs, and soon it was just him and the boy in the room. Aizawa stared at Sero and sighed. “Why did you eat Aoyama’s food?”

“I—I don’t know.” Sero said. “I want to say it was an accident or something, but I honestly don’t know. I just wasn’t thinking I guess.”

“I’m disappointed. I thought I’d taught you all better than this.”

“I’m sorry, Aizawa-sensei.” Sero dropped his head even more, looking thoroughly ashamed at his actions.

“It’s not me you have to apologize too.” Aizawa said. “It’s Aoyama.”

“I’ll do that, Sensei.”

“Of you go then.” Aizawa tilted his head towards the stairs. “You’ll have detention for three days after school, and need to replace the cheese you ate. I expect it done ASAP.”

“Yes, Sensei.” Sero said, standing and quickly making his way towards Aoyama’s room, understanding Aizawa’s dismissal for what it was.

Aizawa sighed, hoping that Sero’s punishment would be enough to stop such a thing from happening again. Hopefully.

Aoyama was crying. Again.

But this time, he wasn’t crying alone.

Aizawa didn’t know what he’d walked in on just now, but he almost wanted to walk back out and let the students involved handle the situation, thinking it was just a minor disagreement or something similar. But then he saw the same distressed look on Aoyama’s face that the boy had worn a few days ago after the cheese issue, and Aizawa knew then that he wouldn’t be able to leave the situation alone.

“What’s going on?” Aizawa asked as he approached the students trying their best to calm Aoyama down. Yaoyorozu… Ashido… Midoriya… and Sero. A quick glance up the stairs showed more of his class looking on anxiously; trapped on the other side of a wailing Aoyama. It was then that Aizawa saw it; shattered glass at the bottom of the stairs. Ah, shit.

Aizawa knew exactly what it was that had been broken, for it had been a glass sculpture of a building in France that Aizawa didn’t know the name of, but recognized. It was an important possession of Aoyama’s—a gift from his parents if he remembered correctly—and Aizawa wanted to know just how it had ended up broken.

Ever the voice of reason, Yaoyorozu was the first to speak. “It was an accident, Aizawa-sensei. Midoriya tripped down the stairs just as Aoyama was coming up them. We heard the crash and came to investigate, but by then, they were both in tears.”

Aizawa glanced over and Midoriya, taking note of the equally distressed look on his student’s face, and the rapid waterfall of tears running down his face. Aoyama was similarly distressed, but being much more vocal about it. “Midoriya—”

“I’m so, so sorry, Sensei!” Midoriya said in a hurry. “It was stupid of me to trip over my own two feet, and I tried my best to dodge Aoyama, but I couldn’t do it in time, so then I tried to save the sculpture, but I just made it worse, and I can’t apologize enough, and—”

“Midoriya, breathe. Aoyama, I need you to do the same.” Aizawa interrupted before Midoriya could really get going. His student followed his instruction—Aoyama taking a little longer to understand what was being asked of him—giving Aizawa time to approach, resting a hand on both his and Aoyama’s shoulders. “Now, are either of you hurt?”

Both students shook their heads, although Aizawa could see some puncture wounds where the glass had penetrated, and he wasn’t blind to the way that Midoriya was gingerly holding his arm. Aside from a few bleeding spots, Aoyama seemed to be fine, which was good considering he’d probably been squashed by Midoriya in the first place. Teenagers will be teenagers, I guess. Aizawa turned his attention to the students at the top of the stairs, scanning the crowd for the ones he wanted. “Iida! Todoroki!”

Two heads peered through the crowd, pushing their way to the front. “Yes, Aizawa-sensei?” Iida asked, quickly coming to stand just behind his classmates.

“Can you and Todoroki take Midoriya to Recovery Girl, please?”

“Sure thing, Sensei.” Todoroki nodded, quickly helping Midoriya to his feet.

“The rest of you, go back to your rooms.” Aizawa ordered, pleased when the rest of the kids scattered like mice. Now that there was only a small group of people, Aizawa could focus his attention on Aoyama. “Hey, kid, how can we help?”

“You—You can’t.” Aoyama sobbed, reaching for the broken glass, only to be stopped by Sero. “It’s broken!”

“I know.” Aizawa soothed, rubbing gentle circles into Aoyama’s shoulder with his thumb. “But maybe we can fix it?”

Aoyama’s entire body shuddered as the boy tried to gather his words. “It was a gift from my mother. She—she made it herself. And now it’s gone!”

Clearly, Aoyama was too distressed to actually listen to what Aizawa was saying. But thank god that Yaoyorozu was still here.

“It’s okay, Aoyama.” The girl smiled gently. “I’m sure if you tell your mother what happened, she’ll be happy to help you get it fixed. It was an accident that it got broken. I could easily make another for you as well if you’d like, but I think it’s more about the sentiment, isn’t it?”

Aoyama nodded; his sobs having died off. “Maman made it for me before I came to UA, as a way to remember her while she was in France still.” The boy paused. “Do you really think she won’t be mad?”

“Of course not!” Yaoyorozu said. “She’s your mother! How about we write her an email together? Sero and Ashido can gather all the glass and we can try and get it all sorted out.”

“Okay.” Aoyama agreed, letting Yaoyorozu pull him up, both students disappearing back up the stairs before Aizawa could stop them. He’d wanted to make sure that the minor injuries from the glass were alright. He’d just sent Yaoyorozu a message asking her to do that for him.

“Will you two be alright?” Aizawa asked his two remaining students who looked a tiny bit annoyed and being put in glass cleaning duty.

“Sure, Aizawa-sensei.” Ashido smiled at him. “We’ll just use Sero’s tape to clean everything up and take it to Momo! Although it would’ve been nice if she asked us first.”

“Would you rather be the one that has to comfort Aoyama and talk to his mother?” Sero retorted.

“Good point.”

Aizawa sighed, turning on his heel and leaving the two students to clean up the mess. Now he had to make the trip to Recovery Girl’s office to check on Midoriya. Why are my students such a mess? Why?

By the sixth time that Aizawa had walked in on Aoyama in tears, he was ready to get to the bottom of the what was the reasoning behind all the waterworks. Aizawa was all for his students expressing themselves, but this was more than the normal emotional distress he’d encountered over his years as a teacher. This time, Aizawa had had to hunt down Aoyama, for the boy simply hadn’t shown up to class that day, and no one seemed to know where he was. His class certainly hadn’t enjoyed the lecture that had come from that little titbit of information, but maybe that would teach them to pay more attention to whether their fellow classmates had actually left the dorms in the morning.

Anyways, Aizawa had left his class the moment Ectoplasm had walked in, and made his way over to the dorms, quickly climbing the stairs to the floor of Aoyama’s room. He was worried about his student, especially after the many breakdowns over the past couple of weeks. Aizawa stopped outside of Aoyama’s door, gently rapping his knuckles against it. “Aoyama? Are you in there?”

Aizawa listened carefully, pressing his ear against the door. He could faintly hear the sound of something moving in the room, but it was too soft to distinguish whether it was Aoyama or something else inside. “Aoyama?”

Aizawa carefully pushed the door open, not wanting to invade his student’s privacy, but also wanting to make sure that his student was actually in there and alive. The room was dark, a stark contrast to what he’d heard about the room in passing conversation. His eyes were drawn to a massive lump in the bed, the covers drawn over to hide the lump from view. The lump was shaking, the bed rattling in response, which explained the noise that Aizawa had heard from outside.

“Aoyama, are you alright?” Aizawa crossed the room and perched on the edge of the bed. He carefully pulled the covers down to reveal his missing student, cheeks splotchy and tears running down his face. “Oh, kid, what’s wrong?”

Aoyama’s eyes met his own, and the tears began to fall even faster, and the boy’s sobbing grew worse. Aizawa’s concern shot through the roof, all sorts of possibilities running through his mind for what could possibly be causing this kind of breakdown. At first, he thought Aoyama could be injured—a valid concern since his class had been sparring yesterday—but he didn’t find anything as he scanned the boy. Next, he thought it might be sickness, but it was hard to figure out if the heat Aizawa could feel was an actual fever or just from all the crying. Whatever was causing the breakdown, it certainly wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, so Aizawa just carefully pulled Aoyama into his arms, letting the boy cling to him and cry into his short.

Aizawa rocked Aoyama from side to side as the boy continued to cry, although his wailing was starting to quieten down, the sobs descending into silence. The tremors remained, and occasionally Aoyama would hold his breath; Aizawa felt a little bit of pride in that moment that his student was trying to calm himself down. He continued to soothe Aoyama for some time, just patiently waiting for the boy to calm down enough to tell him what was wrong.

“It’s okay, Aoyama. You just tell me when you’re ready.” Aizawa said, hugging Aoyama just that little bit tighter, ignoring the snot and tears that were slowly staining his shirt. He could handle a little mess if it meant that his student was comfortable.

Finally, the crying stopped, the silence that followed broken by the occasional sniffle and cough. “Aizawa-sensei?” Aoyama whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

“I’m here, kid. What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be sorry, Aoyama. But you can talk to me.” Aizawa said, running a hand through blonde hair. “I want to help, if I can.”

“It’s stupid.” Aoyama sighed into Aizawa’s shirt.

“It’s not stupid if it got you crying like this.”

Silence followed his words, but Aizawa didn’t push. He just patiently waited for his student to find the words he needed. Several times, Aoyama made to speak, but failed to follow through; still, Aizawa did not push. Pushing would only bring back the tears.

“I miss home.” Aoyama finally said. “Not… home here, but home home.”

“Home home?” Aizawa was confused for just a moment before he remembered that Aoyama hadn’t been born in Japan like the rest of his students. “You mean France?”

Aoyama nodded. Aizawa could feel tears start to dampen his shirt again. “I miss France, and my parents. They went back after the dorms were built. And I can’t visit them…”

He’s homesick. Aizawa finally put the pieces of the puzzle together; when Aoyama had been crying over his eaten cheese, when he’d been crying over his broken statue that had come from his mother. All of those had been reminders of home for his student, and all of them had been broken in some way. It wasn’t surprising that Aoyama had broken down.

All of his students missed home one way or another, but most of them could be soothed with a late-night phone call, or an organized visit. Something that was near impossible when your family lived in another country entirely. And for once in his life, Aizawa didn’t know how to help. The solution would be to arrange time for Aoyama to visit his family, but the current situation with the League made that impossible. A phone call could help, sure, but he doubted that it would. And it wouldn’t be right of him to ask for Aoyama’s parents to just fly back to Japan—considering his students track record with bad parents, he wasn’t willing to risk it either—even though that would probably help Aoyama the most.

“How can I help, kiddo?” Aizawa asked.

“You can’t.” Aoyama let out a single sob. “You can’t help me, Sensei.”

“Let me try at least. Is it just you missing home?”

Aoyama nodded. “Maman and papa are busy. I haven’t—I haven’t heard from them in ages.”

“Okay, okay, it’s alright. We’ll sort something out.” Aizawa ran a hand down Aoyama’s back. He racked his brain to try and figure out what time it would be in France; not something he’d ever had to think about before. Once he figured it out, he couldn’t help but wince. If he tried to call Aoyama’s parents, it would be well into the night.

But if it calmed his student down, it was worth losing some sleep. At least, in his opinion, it was. Aizawa pulled out his phone and found the number he was looking for, only hoping that it was still the correct one. He held the device up to his ear, listening to it as it rang. Aoyama didn’t question what he was doing, nor did he seem to notice.

“Hello?” A tired, accented voice came through the phone. “Who is this?”

“This is Shouta Aizawa. Am I speaking with Ms Aoyama?”

“You are. You’re Yuga’s teacher, aren’t you?” Aoyama’s mother questioned, sounding much more awake. “Is everything alright?”

A competent parent. Finally. “Yuga’s just feeling a touch homesick. Would you be able to speak with him for a bit. I’m aware it’s late and—”

“Put my son on the phone.” Aizawa blinked as he was interrupted, not expecting the woman to interrupt him.

He pulled back from Aoyama and held his phone out to his student. Aoyama just blinked at him. “Your mother is on the phone, if you’d like to talk to her.”

“Maman?” Aoyama shakily took the phone from Aizawa’s grasp, tears welling in his eyes once again as rapid French began to filter through the phone; Aoyama responding in turn.

Aizawa found himself trapped, since Aoyama was still clinging to him, so he resigned himself to his fate and just made himself comfortable, pulling Aoyama into a one-armed hug. He didn’t have a clue about what was being said on the phone, and he could hear another voice had joined the conversation—Aoyama’s father if he wagered a guess—but whatever it was that was being said, it was helping, for Aoyama was slowly starting to relax, looking happier than he had in the past few weeks.

It wasn’t a solution to Aoyama’s homesickness, but it was a start to helping him.

He’d talk to Nedzu and Aoyama’s parents later to see if there wasn’t a way to allow Aoyama some time to go to France, or if they could bring his parents over to Japan for a visit.

And if they couldn’t sort something out, well, Aizawa would just have to learn French, wouldn’t he?

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #mha #bnha #dadzawa #aizawa shouta #aoyama yuga #mha fanfic #fanfic #writing

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inmyarmswrappedin · 3 years ago

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I haven't read any post on the tag, these are my unfiltered thoughts on clip 3:

Week 1 is always used to set up the themes and storylines for the season. And they're sure getting hammered down in the first three clips.

The characters have just finished their German exam. Apparently they all picked a Goethe poem to analyze. Mailin had a lot to write, as she found the poem very misogynistic. (Sidenote, but I would like to know which poem specifically this was.)

The poem compares a girl to a flower, waiting to be picked, and dead once she's picked. Mailin thinks it's a rape metaphor. She also thinks the poem should come with a trigger warning. I myself will have to add a trigger warning to this post because of this comparison.

Sporty Spice jokes that he has a trigger warning to give himself: he has to get going. Sporty, it's your presence that necessitates a tw, not your disappearance. But ok. Mailin looks super pissed at Sporty's joke.

On the other hand, Finn, who couldn't be more telegraphed as the LI if he tried, looks at Mailin all like, "you got a point." He mentions that in the poem the boy is a boy, but the girl is a flower.

Isi is taken aback at Mailin's rant. They mentions that they definitely noted the girl as flower as a metaphor for courtship, but then moved onto the rhyme scheme, rather than mentioning rape and so on. Gonna guess that Mailin was so angered by the rape vibes that she forgot to mention the rhyme scheme and her grade won't be as good. Which will further anger her.

Sporty Spice wants to know before he leaves who else wants to celebrate being done with this exam. Isi has a date with their bf. Kieu My and Fatou are also hanging out. Mailin lies that she'll probs go see her grandma since it's been a while since they hung out; however, people keeping track of the social media will know Mailin and her grandma did yoga together yesterday.

This leads me into a digression about the social media. What are we to make of the content posted to insta? Is it supposed to be accurate to what teens actually post? Because I don't believe that German teens (or anyone who isn't actively using their relationship for clout) post the kind of long videos where they're just chatting with their SO about some dumb shit for a while. So then are we supposed to assume that these videos are maybe filtered to Best Friends only? Or maybe even just videos that they shot for themselves, that we as viewers get to see but aren't supposed to be uploaded and published to ig? Because if so, then I think it's really strange that Fatou all of a sudden can't stop talking about sex in clips, but won't even joke about her sex life with her gf on her private videos. Fatou's characterization doesn't ring true.

Anyway, either Mailin's videos with her grandma were private only for herself, or they were published where her friends could see, but Fatou (and everyone else in this clip) was so wrapped up in their SO that they didn't watch Mailin's stories. The message is clear though, Mailin feels so left behind because three people out of the five in this clip are too busy with their relationships to hang out with her, and the fourth is fucking Sporty Spice and his joke trigger warnings.

Edit: a further note about trigger warnings. I think it's kind of insidious that this clip paints Mailin as angry and even kind of off-putting (just look at everyone else's reactions) for wanting a trigger warning, because Druck has used trigger warnings in the past. They were in fact praised for doing so, when pretty much every other Skam version had failed to do so.

#druck #cw rape #druck season 8 thoughts

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riverisnotsafe · 4 years ago

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Mine.

PAIRING: F!Servant!Reader x Naoya Zenin

WARNINGS: NAOYA ZENIN. Naoya smut. NSFW, Minors DNI. | If you're into any of these: possessive Naoya, breeding kink (?), mentions of overstimulation, jealous Naoya.

A/N: You can call me Noct or River. I’m still fairly new to how tumblr works and how writers and bloggers (?) write their imagines/fics so I do apologize in advance if my writing is not to your liking. I will also post on AO3 under sunflowerpsycho. I'm still trying to improve^^ This was self-indulgent and not edited so pretty all over the place and might be unclear in some parts, sorry bout that.

The reader lowkey a pick me but depends on how you view her, either she's a pick me or she just acts the way she acts to accustom and stroke the lil bitches ego.

“A-ah! Naoya-sama!” you moan his name as he shoots his load deep in you. A few moments of bliss and you were ready to clean yourself. Naoya never liked staying in bed long after sex. He finds it disgusting. All the fluids of sweat, semen and love juices mixed together made his skin crawl. “Oi woman, where are you going?” You haven’t even gotten up but Naoya had you strongly wrapped in his embrace. His cock still deep within you, as if acting as a plug. “I’m gonna wash myself..? You don’t like being dirty like this...usually?” the last bit came out as a question when Naoya buried his head deep into the crevice of your neck. “Ah, I’ll let it pass today. Just stay here. My cum is gonna leak out if you move.” he tried to shove himself deeper, earning an unexpected moan from you. “L-leak out???” Does Naoya have a breeding kink? Is he trying to keep his cum in you???? “N-naoya-sama...are you trying to breed me?” at the mention of breed, you could feel his dick twitch in your core. “Shut up woman.” Ah...so he is and he’s embarrassed to admit. “I feel honoured if that’s what you’re trying to do...” another twitch.

Under that tough misogynistic act, this man is just a boy who thrives on praise, he probably was deprived of any in his childhood, hence the superiority complex. But with you, he’s quite honest. The body doesn’t lie. You were just another servant. He probably paid and slept with many so you never thought of it as anything special. Besides, after all of this dirty work, both of you end up going your separate ways. A servant and the young master. That’s all it is. That is until one of the maids tried stealing from the family, unfortunately from Naoya and he didn’t take it too lightly. A woman and a thief, absolutely the worst. Ever since that, he appointed you as his personal maid, to ensure that only one person will serve him. Only one will enter and exit his quarters. Only one will serve his meals. Only one will tend to him. Only one will follow him around the house. Only one will keep him company when needed. Why did he choose you? Honestly you had no idea. Out of all the servants, clearly you were the least appealing, especially for a man of Naoya’s caliber.

You could never rival the looks of any of the other girls. You were chubby. Your thighs a bit too thick. Your cheeks were puffy. You had no thigh gap. Curves? Well, they weren’t hour-glass curves so you were bedrock bottom ranked. And when it came to family, you were a nobody. All the other servants have been serving the Zenin clan for generations. You were just a nobody who was pulled into the servant life to pay off your parent’s debt. What luck. It took him time though, to make you tend to him sexually. He might have a big ego and any woman would sleep with him but deep down he knew it was only for money and his looks, which he prided on. The sex was always bland. He could care less about the women’s pleasures, he would ejaculate outside, toss them money and demand them to immediately leave. He found them disgusting. Weren’t you just the same?

He had a great face, an even better body and all the riches you could’ve dreamt of, so why has he not tossed you out yet. He for sure can suspect that you’re just the same as all those women, plus, you were even lower, a nobody. Yet, here he is, deep inside you. This has been..about the sixth time you and Naoya have had intercourse. The first three times was when you were just a normal servant. Coincidentally he always found you and forced you to pleasure him. The pay was good so you never complained. After becoming his personal maid, it took a few months to make you fulfil his sexual needs, which is rather strange. A man like knows nothing of consent. He’s a tyrant. What he wants, he can get and he will. So why did he take months to make you fuck him when it was so easy before becoming his personal servant. Who knows? Maybe it was his underlying insecurities asking him to be sure.

“Naoya-sama...may I turn to look at you?” he grunts. “I’ll be sure to avoid any leakage” he nods. You slowly turn your body, still impaled on him. It was a different kind of pleasure but you withheld your moans. Your face are so close. This moment is intimate, for you and him. Almost unreal. He’s gorgeous. That red tint of blush and sex afterglow just added more to his beauty. “Naoya-sama. May I speak more than usual?” “Only because you asked for permission. Proceed.” he avoided looking into your eyes. A shy one. “I appreciate my master’s kindness. Thank you for allowing me to speak. Naoya-sama...please be honest with me. Are you trying to impregnate me? Why? I’m just a lowly servant. I could never be perfect to bear your children, or be a concubine. I have no value. You are too kind. We should stop. I will remove myself now. Thank you for your time master.” You slowly push yourself off him. He grabs your arm harshly, definitely bruising it.

“You said no leakage. And how dare you speak to your master so insolently? How dare you question what holds value to me or not. You are a lowly servant. You’re a filthy no-name bitch. You live to lick my shoes and pick up money I throw on the ground. You are not going anywhere. You are staying on this bed with me in you. You have to be reminded who your master is.” Oooh, you definitely pissed him off. You winced at his words. They were normal, he always told you where your place is so it wasn’t a surprise. “You stupid woman. Now it’s out. You moved and now it’s out.” he sounds disappointed. He was whining like a child. “Naoya-sama!” he plunged into you hard. “Yes, scream my name you stupid bitch.” He went faster and faster. “Don’t cum inside...I’m not worthy master” “Shut your mouth. Worthy? No woman is worthy of me. Selfish. All they care about are themselves. Such an inferior gender thinking what they know is worthy? I decide. I decide your worth.” He changed positions. He pressed both your legs close to your chest. A mating press. He was so deep. The squelching of his previous load acting as lubricant was erotic.

“You. Your lewd body. You were always trying to seduce me. Those luscious thighs. These fat breasts. You were made for child-bearing. The look you make when I fuck you. So in awe, eyes rolling back. Ah. Ah. Sometimes you even forgot payment because you rushed to clean yourself. You were the only memorable one. The sounds you make. You’re erotic. No one else can see or hear you except me. Mine. Mine. Mine.” Naoya drilled you senseless. So desperate to hear you. Desperate to look at your expressions. Desperate to conquer you. “N-naoya-sama! Ah! Ah! Naoya-sama!” You had practically lost any sense and all you could feel was his dick fucking you mercilessly. The veins. The length. The girth. He fit like a glove. He had shaped you to be accustomed to him. “When that no-name clan came yesterday for a meeting. I saw your look. You enjoyed how they all looked at you didn’t you? You slut. You’d want them to fuck you like this right? Only I can though. You smiled and served them. Desperate bitch.” The meeting yesterday?

Your mind wandered. Oh yes, a small clan that are partners with the Zenin in business. The heirs were quite good-looking and well-mannered, how could a lady not feel flattered. You can’t remember if you specifically smiled or enjoyed their small talk. Was being polite not a simple necessity a servant should have towards guests? To ensure their master was not seen as tardy. You can’t remember their names or faces. All you remember was Naoya slipping his hand under your garments and fingering you. “You enjoyed people watching right? Especially since they were good-looking. I WAS RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. Disgusting piece of shit.” He got even rougher. You don’t know how many times you’ve orgasmed and how many times Naoya had ejaculated in you but he was still at it. He’s jealous huh.. how strange. A man that could have anything and anyone in the world was strangely possessive of a worthless woman like you. “You can’t show them those expressions. Mine. Your kindness mine. Your sounds. Mine. You’re my servant.” he sounds sad.

Despite being in subspace, you unintentionally reach out to your master and cub his face. “Naoya-sama. I love you.” Those unintentional words made the malicious man slow down his pace. “What did you say?” Is he angry? Oof, all the best dealing with another tantrum. You couldn’t feel anything. Legs sore. Your mind had wandered. The pleasure had made you dumb yet the little consciousness you have for your master remained. “I love you, Naoya.” His cock twitched. “Again” “I love you.” “Again” “I love you, Naoya-sama”. All that repeating made you come to your senses. “I don’t remember the men from yesterday. All I remember were your thick fingers in me. My expressions and mewls were for you. If this body is what you want then I will offer it all to you, my master. Ask, you are my master after all. All of me is yours.” You get up a bit, and stagger, he fucked the life outta ya. “Master, allow me to speak.” a small dumbfounded nod. You slip a hand onto his cheek and kiss him. Both of you never shared a kiss.

It was too intimate for a servant to kiss their master. Only their betrothed would be worthy but you couldn’t help it, you needed to assure this man-child, you were no one else’s. “Master, I-“ “Naoya. When we’re alone call me Naoya.” a small smile crept onto your lips. “Naoya, breed me.” His face was flushed. That’s exactly what he wanted. Through the night, he fucked you in every inch of the room. Both of your fluids and smell, absolutely drenched his quarters. He never once ejaculated outside. Every drip of his semen was in your womb, he wouldn’t even pull out, in fear it would leak. Shower? He fucked you while showering too. His animalistic senses stopped when a knock on the door came.

“Lay down with your back arched. It can’t leak.” He put on a robe and answered. A woman’s voice. “Naoya-sama. Naobito-sama is calling for you.” “Tch. Annoying old man” he slams the door shut. “Oi. Arch even more.” He came back to you. “I’m going to put this in you so you don’t spill.” He was holding, A DILDO? This man has a dildo? “N-naoya-sama, t-thats...” “Some servant I had my way with some time ago left it to fuck with me. I kept it not knowing what it was but now the shape looks like it’d plug you up good.” A servant he had his ways with huh. You were just another one right. He seemed to have noticed your train of thought. “Stupid woman. That servant is long gone. And now. You’re mine. No other stupid bitch except you. Stop thinking nonsense. Maybe I’ll remind you a bit more. That old man can wait.” He unrobed and pounced you. You definitely can’t walk for a few days.

“I’ll plug you up and we’ll go see the old man” he sounds, quite joyful. “If you move and leak, I won’t hesitate to fill you up again.” Ah. He’s definitely Naoya Zenin. “Naoya-sama” you smile. “What? You should be grateful that I’ve allowed you to speak so many times since last night.” You can’t help but giggle. A slight blush forms on Naoya’s face. “How dare you laugh at m-“ you pull him in for a kiss. He reluctantly kissed back. “Naoya-sama, I love you.” you smiled. He thrusted into you without warning. “The old man can definitely wait. You filled with my child is more important.” God knows how many times he’d come in your womb without pulling out, there’s no way you’re not pregnant. “Naoya-sama...let’s stop here...I can’t walk properly if we continue, then a different servant will have to serve you.” He was about to argue but held his tongue. “Fine.” He pulled out and slowly shoved the dildo in. Looks like he’d rather have wobbly-legged you than another servant. You can't help but smile. “Go shower and meet me back here. And clean the room after meeting with the old man. The smell...erotic but dreadful. Wash everything.” “Yes my master.” You hurriedly got clothed and rushed to the servant quarters to clean up. You were happy. What a weirdo.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin #naoya zenin smut #naoya zenin x reader

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golbrocklovely · 4 years ago

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remember me // colby brock (pt 2)

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

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

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

word count: 5526

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

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

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

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

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

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

I guess this wasn’t a dream after all.

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

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

He cleared his throat. “This early?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

He shrugged tiredly. “It's okay.”

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

She whistled quietly. “Woah, nice place.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Theories?” He puzzled.

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

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

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

He cautioned. “...okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I use Facebook? Gross.

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

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

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

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

“What did Sam do?” He asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Colby’s face dropped. “Wait, what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What? How?” He questioned.

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

“Sounds like a strip club.” Colby deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“Honey wagon?” She queried.

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

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

He blinked. “No.”

She started. “It's-”

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

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

Colby added. “Coke, please.”

Tony smiled. “Okay, coming right up.”

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

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

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

“Why is he alone?” He muttered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Colby Brock.” She stated.

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

She cocked her head. “Wait, what?”

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

“Sam…” Colby started.

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

“What?” Colby puzzled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I guess not.” She shrugged uncomfortably.

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

“What are you talking about?” Colby panted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sam… please.” Colby whimpered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It dawned to Colby how much worse this universe was.

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

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

In a universe where Sam didn’t love him.

And he had no way of escaping.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“He’s out here… in LA.” He responded.

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

He laughed bitterly. “You could say that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I will. Bye.” He uttered breathlessly.

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

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

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

“I’m fucked.” Colby breathed.

She started. “I don’t think-”

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

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

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

“Where did you get this?” He inquired.

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

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

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

“What the hell is this?” Colby questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

“Keep reading.” She pushed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?” He answered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He exhaled, letting his arms fall away from her body. “Me too.”

They leaned against the car, keeping a slight distance from each other. A light blush rested on both their faces; however, it was hard to see with the setting sun, something they were both grateful for.

The waitress sighed, breaking the moment of silence. “I think I know why this happened. Why I was the only one who remembered you…”

He raised an eyebrow, slightly side-eyeing her. “Really?”

“I lied to you when we first met. I wanted to seem a bit cooler than I am, but I don’t think I can hide that anymore.” She began, nervously.

Colby’s face relaxed a little, surprised at her words. “Okay.”

“My friend didn’t introduce me to you guys… I introduced her… to you.” She confessed.

A soft grin came to his face. “I had a feeling.”

She rolled her eyes. “No, you didn’t.”

“Yes, I did! I totally did,” he snickered. “Not every fan knows I worked at Dairy Queen. And… no average fan would have helped me get Sam back the way you did.”

“I think there’s a reason for all of this. I think in your universe, your life… you don’t know me.” Her voice dropped suddenly, making Colby turn to her.

“That’s true, I don’t.” He nodded.

Her eyes met his, a sad glint reflecting in the moonlight. “But I think the reason for that is because… you’re not supposed to.”

“What do you mean?” He replied, his face twisting in confusion.

“I think you and I are only supposed to have met here, in this universe. But not in yours.” She glared up at the sky, “Maybe in some weird way, I’m your guardian or guide or something.”

Colby’s thoughts raced. “So, what you’re saying is-“

“This might be the last time you’ll ever see me. You did what you had to do. You got Sam and you to talk again.” Her voice cracked as she held back tears, “You can go home.”

He grabbed her hands, holding them close to his body. “But… I don’t want to leave if it means I don’t know you.”

A hitched breath fell from her lips, a smile appearing from his words. “If we’re meant to be, we’ll see each other again.”

“That’s not fair.” He shook his head, a deep frown settling on his face.

“I know, but it’s how it has to be.” She whispered.

He rested his forehead against her, breathing deeply. “Can I… get one more kiss?”

She bit her lip softly. “I thought you’d never ask.”

They leaned in, his breath fanning across her lips for a split second before he pulled away.

“Wait…” He shuddered. “I never got your name.”

A soft smile came to her lips. “I’ll tell you after.”

His arms wrapped around her, pressing her body into his as their lips collided. He held onto her for dear life, terrified that the moment he pulled away, she would be gone.

He could feel things around him slow down, almost melting away, but he couldn’t tell if it was from the beauty of their kiss making him dizzy. A whirling silence overcame his senses. A burning sensation sliced through his abdomen; his breath ripped from his lungs.

A heavy darkness overtook his vision and for the briefest of moments, he felt absolutely nothing.

Except her lips.

<< |

#colby brock #colby brock fic #colby brock story #colby brock one shot #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock fanfic #colby brock oneshot #colby brock angst #sam golbach #sam and colby

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Let Me Go (f,m)

(A Johnny fic that’s part of the prompt game posted yesterday, got a few requests for him yesterday so I just combined them into one, hope you guys don’t mind :))

Warnings: a little cursing, smuT: oral sex (m and f receiving, face riding), penetration, size kink, choking.

6. midnight

20. warm soup

27. movie night

30. dreams

———

“It’s too cold out here, babe..we’re going home..”

Johnny drives with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh.

“So boring, Mr. Suh, aren’t you from Chicago? You should be used to this!” You laugh and look out the window.

The two of you decided to watch the sunset on New Year’s Eve while walking through the city, but ended up leaving early because Johnny couldn’t stop shaking from the cold.

“I am used to this, I just...don’t want you to suffer.” He shrugs his shoulders.

You scoff. “Yeah, right”

Johnny turns to you and smirks as he rubs his hand over your thigh slowly.

“How about we go to Target..pick up a few things..”

“Ahh..Target, that sounds good.”

You turn to him and smile.

He giggles, knowing that you loved to walk around Target for absolutely no reason.

“Right? We’ll get some vegetables and chicken to make you some warm soup, since you’re so cold.”

You rolled your eyes. “Weren’t you the one that said “it’s too damn cold right now, I can’t feel my 5-foot long legs?”

“And we’ll get some popcorn and trail mix and have a movie night!”

“Well, as long as you’re the one cooking.” You place your hand over his.

———

Back at his apartment, Johnny quickly cooked up soup for you. He used his mom’s recipe and put his all into making it perfect for you like he usually did.

You drank it with him while talking about your New Years resolutions.

“I just want to be happy with you... I think we should spend more time together.” He says while taking a sip of his delicious and warm soup.

You nodded. You knew that with your busy schedule and his busy schedule, you rarely had time together. But you still loved each other very much. You both wished you could have moments like this more often, but with Johnny’s life as an idol and your life as a teacher, you could only spend time together on weekends or at nights when he had to sneak out or you had to sneak in.

“We’ll be alright, Johnny..I love you.” Your eyes are warm and kind, that’s the reason why he fell for you in the first place. He felt so comfortable around you, he felt love radiant from your beautiful smile and aura. And you felt the same from him. Everything he displayed as an idol was only magnified behind the scenes.

He was just as soft and sweet as he appeared to be on TV. Sometimes, you couldn’t believe he was real.

He places his spoon down and then rubs his hand over yours on the table.

“Would you...consider marrying me? Like..would you want to spend your life...with me?” Johnny asks quietly while stumbling over his words.

Your eyes widened. “Of course, baby. I couldn’t imagine my life without you.”

Your voice was sweet and sincere, Johnny quickly pulled you into a hug.

“I love you too, baby, don’t let me go.”

———

Later that night, the two of you watched a movie together on Johnny’s bed. He set his projector up so you could lay comfortably in his arms. Almost too comfortably.

You fell in and out of sleep while watching Titanic, but Johnny didn’t bother you about it. He watched your cute face and ran his hand through your hair.

He rubbed circles into your back as well, making you relax onto him even more.

You woke up for the ending of the movie and felt sad when Jack drifted into the water.

“I don’t know why it always makes me sad, we already know it’s bound to happen.” You mutter.

“Just because we know it’s coming doesn’t mean the blow is softened.” Johnny whispers.

The movie ends just before the 1-minute countdown to the new year. You and Johnny kiss right as the fireworks go off at midnight.

They illuminate his room beautifully and you feel your heart flutter with emotions. You wrap your arms around Johnny’s neck and intertwine your tongue with his.

He holds you in his broad arms and kisses you until you fall asleep.

———

As you sleep, you dream about a date with Johnny.

You can’t see much, but you know that the two of you are ice skating on a frozen lake. Everything seems fine, you twirl around him and he holds your hand while smiling widely.

But then, a crack in the ice starts to form under Johnny, and despite him standing still, it continues to spread.

“Y/n?” He says with fear in his voice.

And suddenly, the crack opens completely and he falls into the icy water.

“Johnny!” You leap towards him and grab his arm.

“It’s okay, it’s okay..” He tries to be reassuring, but tears run out of his beautiful brown eyes.

“Don’t let me go!” You yell as he you struggle to pull him up. His face soon disappears under the water and his arm goes limp.

“Johnny!” You yell once again and jump up out of your sleep.

Johnny holds your arms and shakes you gently. “Y/n..y/n, I’m right here..it’s okay.”

You hold your face in your hands and sob.

“I’m sorry..it felt so real.”

He turns his bedside lamp on then turns back to you. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Yeah..I just..I thought I lost you.”

Johnny pulls you into his arms and holds you close.

“Baby, no, I’m right here, I’ll always be here for you. It’s just a nightmare.”

He wipes your tears and kisses your forehead. “I love you.”

You sniffle. “I love you too.”

You scoot closer to him but feel something like your stomach.

“J-Johnny?”

You look under the blanket. “Are you hard right now?”

Johnny chuckles, his face turning red.

“I’m sorry baby, I had a really good dream actually.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yeah..It’ll go away, I just have to...”

“Shhh..who said I want it to go away?” you put a finger over his lips then lower yourself under the blanket.

You pull his boxers down and allow his aching length to spring free.

“You don’t have to, baby..” he struggles to get out, because the truth is that he hopes you do.

“Mmm...but I really want to..” you lock eyes with him and lick the pre cum from his tip.

You place kitten licks along his cock, licking across his bulging veins before kissing his swollen and red tip.

Johnny curses under his breath as he watches you swallow half of him while under the blanket.

You pull off of him completely and lick your lips. “I forgot how big you are..”

He runs his fingers through your scalp.

“It was just last week that I fucked you so hard you couldn’t walk the next day, how could you forget?”

“Hmmm I don’t remember, I think I need a refresher.” You winked then lowered yourself onto him again, this time using both hands to twist around the base of of his cock while you sucked whatever you could fit into your mouth.

You moan onto him, flicking your tongue all over him and moving your hands up and down.

“Fuck..” he lets out in a low groan.

You swirl your tongue around his tip then continue to move it up and down his shaft.

“Mmmm..Johnny..I’m so wet for you.” You look into his eyes as you lick up and down.

“Come on, baby, I can’t take any more teasing.” His grip on your hair tightens slightly.

You swallow him whole and hum again to send vibrations through his sensitive manhood.

He thrusts upwards into your throat, making gag unexpectedly.

You continue to choke on him and listen as his groans grow louder.

“Ahh..That’s it, baby girl, I’m close.”

Tears escape your eyes and you whimper as he thrusts harder.

“Cum for me, Johnny.” You stroke his dick faster and flatten your tongue on the head.

Spurts of milky strings decorate your neck and chin as Johnny moans beautifully.

Johnny bites his bottom lip as he watches your fucked out face over him.

“Come here..” he whispers. You climb over him while wiping his cum off.

“Ride my face.”

“What?” Your eyes grow.”

“I want to taste you..” he says with low eyes.

“Are you sure?”

He lowers himself and waits for you to get on top.

You’re in nothing but a g string and his t shirt, but you look gorgeous to him.

Your knees dig into the pillow, you hover over his face and the feeling is strange. You can feel his warm breath fan your entrance.

You swallow hard as he uses two fingers to push the thin fabric of your g string to the side.

He licks over your folds as you shiver from the sudden contact.

“It’s not like I haven’t tasted you before, sweetheart...don’t be nervous, just move.”

He grabs both knees and pries them further apart so you’re right on his pillowy lips.

He flattens his tongue against you, listening to you make the most wonderful whimpers he’s ever heard.

On instinct, you move forward and backward against his tongue, feeling his lips kiss your core as if it’s your lips.

His tongue feels inside of you as he uses two fingers to explore your pussy.

He presses his finger tips onto that spot while he groans. The vibrations make you jump from stimulation, but his tongue doesn’t stop. He pushes it against your clit with more force, gaining a loud moan from you.

He squeezes your thigh and shakes his head from side to side, as if to tell you you’re naughty for making such loud noises.

But the movement only adds to your stimulation.

You move faster now, placing your hands onto your breasts. You massage them and play with your nipples as Johnny draws circles onto your clit.

“Johnny!” You cry out as the intense feeling takes you over.

He pinches your thigh again, looking up at you and watching you play with your breasts under his large t shirt.

You bite your lips in an effort to stay quiet, but you can’t help but cry out as you climax on his face. “Oh...my god!”

Johnny watches your body shake above him in the dim lighting of the room, then holds you by the waist and lays you down beside him.

He wipes his face. “I love you, sweetheart, you’re so beautiful.”

“I love you too, that was amazing.” You breathe heavily.

He smirks then turns you over on your side, gently massaging your warm skin in the process.

He kneels and then straddles your leg while curling your other leg around his side.

He holds his hard cock in his hand, brushing the tip against your dripping folds.

You flinch slightly when you feel it against your quivering pussy.

Johnny licks his lips and pushes into you slowly, giving you time to adjust.

“Fuck..” you exhale. “Keep going.”

He pushes into while looking into your eyes.

His intense eye contact and the way he clenches his jaw makes you even wetter than you were before.

You wince and he stops moving.

“Are you okay?” He asks sweetly.

“Yeah..it’s okay.”

He thrusts into you, watching as you grip the sheets beside you and whine.

This position always allowed him to deeper while still maintaining eye contact with you.

Your clit was perfectly stimulated and he could watch every cry escape your mouth as well as your breasts.

But here you were in his t shirt looking more perfect than you’ve ever looked as you took all of him in.

“Fuck it’s so deep inside you..” his tongue darts across his bottom lip.

He thrusts harder the pulls out completely.

“Faster..please.” You beg him.

“Of course. Anything for you.”

And with that, Johnny drills his cock into your pussy, stretching it out to become the perfect fit for him.

“Johnny!” You cry out while watching his abs flex and his beautiful body glisten in sweat above you.

He moves fast and places a hand around your neck, knowing that you preferred being quieted this way.

He squeezes your throat and starts to choke you.

Your body moves up and down on the plush bed, you can’t think straight as he destroys you in the middle of the night.

He throws your leg up on his shoulder, his cock his your g spot repeatedly and you silently go insane. His thrusts are fast, but his sturdy length slides in and out of you easily, never failing to press against your extremely sensitive areas.

“Good girl...take it just like that.”

His tone is low and husky, he continues to choke you while looking into your eyes deeply.

And with a few more thrusts, you come undone just as he does, your body shaking once again.

Your eyes roll in the back of your head as Johnny kisses you through it.

It feels like minutes pass by while you experience your most intense orgasm.

He pulls out of you after he comes down. He then goes to the bathroom and grabs a towel to wipe you up with.

“Johnny..” you close your eyes as you feel sleep overtake your body.

He pulls you into his arms and hugs you. “Let’s go back to sleep, sweetheart, I’m right here.”

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ironmandeficiency · 4 years ago

Text

that’s not a shirt

pairing: marcus pike / reader

word count: 1584

summary: marcus comes home from work & finds the strangest thing in the laundry.

a/n: for @autumnleaves1991-blog and her wednesday writing challenge! writing domestic marcus pike is my therapy. unbeta’d and posted from mobile (honestly my laptop is becoming less convenient to post from even tho posting fic on tumblr is literally the reason i bought it last year)

three long, miserable weeks. that’s how long marcus has been out of town for a case that had him jetting all across the country, far away from you and your comfortable bed. he’s almost never at the apartment he pays rent for every month. most of his clothes and his favorite pillow are at your place, and the small quilt his grandmother sewed decades ago is draped over the back of your couch. in everything but name, he lived with you.

when he entered your apartment with his key, he took note of the fact you weren’t there and got set to cleaning up a bit. work leaves you exhausted more often than not and he doesn’t want to leave everything undone for you to worry about when you get home.

upon first glance, he could see the laundry was half done. a heaping load of clean clothes was in the hamper in front of the dryer and there were wet clothes in the open washer. when he looked further, there was also a load in the dryer, which told him that you stayed up late to get things done then fell asleep on the couch waiting for the dryer to finish. with a fond smile, he started the dryer for a few minutes to get wrinkles out of what’s in there. when those are done, he can get what’s in the hamper unwrinkled and hung and folded.

dinner was next on the to-do list. something nourishing to welcome you home after a long day but simple enough to do while catching up the clothes: spaghetti. there’s something about his mom’s recipe for the sauce that makes his spaghetti absolutely heavenly — your words, not his — and he can’t wait to see your reaction to having marcus home two days earlier than planned along with his best dish.

in the time it takes him to get the sauce cooking and the water boiling on the stove, the dryer announces that it’s finished with the first load. he hums as he folds the bath towels and dish rags without a care in the world, making the trip to stow them in the bathroom cabinet with a spring to his step.

checks the sauce for flavor and consistency before putting the second load of wrinkled clothes in the dryer, finding it needs just a smidge more rosemary before it can be left to simmer. picks another sprig from the plant you keep on the windowsill and cuts the leaves very fine before sprinkling them in with a flick of his wrist.

satisfied with his efforts, he turns back to the laundry. he dutifully empties the lint filter (you’re adamant on emptying it after every load and the trait passed onto him) before he begins to grab things to toss into the dryer. about a third of the way through the basket, his hand grabbed onto something weirdly solid and plump.

“mroww!”

last marcus checked, shirts don’t make noises like that. he tore his gaze from the inside of the dryer to the hamper to find a grey and white kitten lounging in the hamper. the little thing was nudging his hand with their head, clearly wanting the attention of the man slowly depleting its bed. he was perplexed. you didn’t have a cat when he was last here, but there was one seeming to be perfectly content in making itself at home in your apartment.

“where did you come from?” he knew the cat wasn’t going to give him a coherent answer but he felt the need to voice his confusion anyway. the first thing to do now: check to see if it’s male or female. it’s a female, looks to be about three months old and is perfectly content with being handled by marcus.

marcus can’t recall the last time he had a pet. with him being too busy with work, he never thought it would be fair to a pet to have an owner constantly gone. he didn’t have enough stability in the past with where he lived and didn’t want to only be a half ass pet parent. the past several months, however, have been nothing but stable. not counting the seldom out of town cases, he goes to work in the morning and comes home to you in the evening, and he rinses and repeats as needed. maybe this kitten is the perfect prelude to taking the next big step in his relationship with you.

for now though, marcus doesn’t let himself get carried away with his daydreams about living with you full time. he’s got laundry to finish and dinner to cook, and now he has a sous chef to accompany him. he holds the kitten to his chest, scratching her chin with a hooked finger and melting at the way she looks up as if telling him to keep going. “alright sweet girl, let’s finish up dinner.” a soft “mrrow!” is her reply and it makes marcus huff a quiet laugh.

dinner is completed with marcus using one less hand than normal, his sous chef being fabulous company. the few times he had to use both hands, his feline friend perched on his shoulder (which he thought was the best thing ever) and waited to be held again. however this cat got here, marcus didn’t know; the one thing he did know is that it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

the front door was unlocked when you came home and you knew with absolute certainty that you locked it before you left. your walmart bags filled with cat supplies were immediately dropped to the hallway floor as you began to inspect your front door and the area around it. marcus taught you how to spot the basic signs of forced entry (like the protective sweetheart he is) and when none of them were there, you cautiously entered your apartment, mace in hand.

the adrenaline washed away when you spotted your loving boyfriend in the kitchen, gently bobbing his head along to whatever music he had playing. one hand was stirring a pot on the stove while the other was plenty preoccupied with the kitten. shit, you forgot to warn him about the kitten before he got home!

this was the last thing you thought would be here to greet you, but it was a very welcome sight; the feline was finicky and marcus wasn’t due home for another few days, a double whammy. “i see you’ve met the kitten.” you’re honestly just thankful he didn’t get upset about the little thing. neither of you have talked about pets or whatever your living situation is becoming, so the way he seems so taken with the kitten is a sign pointing in a great direction.

when he hears your voice, marcus visibly lights up. “hi honey!” the hand with the spoon immediately drops the wooden utensil into the pot and waves at you happily. “this is my sous chef, say hello, pasta!” he grabs one of her little paws and waves it at you before resuming his stirring, a beaming smile on his face.

did he really just name the cat pasta? and how in the world is she so calm with him right now?

you found the kitten, now known as pasta, huddled in a cardboard box beside a gas station dumpster headed home from work. she was mewling her little head off back there and you were lucky enough to hear her. taking her and her box, your list of things to do was thrown out the window as you rushed her to the vet. they cleaned her up real good and schedule her vaccinations, and sent you home with a list of supplies to buy and advice on how to take care of the little thing.

she was pissed at you after the vet trip. didn’t let you pet or hold her unless she was in the mood for it and if you tried to pick her up otherwise, she would scatter and give you a glare from a safe distance away. but here was marcus holding her like a baby, and the little brat was eating it up! to be fair, you were the same way with marcus when he was being affectionate so you didn’t completely blame her.

“why pasta?” you knew that cats were more likely than dogs to have strange names. you just didn’t think your boyfriend would be the type to give a cat a name like pasta. at that rate, you might as well name a dog goose and call it a day.

he smiles at the furball, giving her a few affectionate pets while he talks. “i was cooking spaghetti when i found her in the laundry hamper, and then i noticed a little spot right on her hip that looks like penne. i couldn’t choose between the two so i went for the middle ground. is that okay with you? or did she have another-”

“marcus, i love it.” and you really do; that sentimental dork just made you love the name pasta with nothing but two sentences. “and honestly, i’ve just been rotating between baby girl, squeak toy, and dumbass since i found her the day before yesterday.”

he scratches pasta under her chin as he laughs at the thought of you calling his sous chef a dumbass. “pasta is not a dumbass! you tell ‘em sweetheart, tell them how smart you are!”

“mroww!”

“see? she’ll be the next einstein.”

marcus pike taglist: @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky @obirain @themarcusmoreno @catsnkooks @torradoza @stardustsunrisekisses @darthadeline @max--phillips @jedi-mando @darklingveracruz @andysficrecs @pedropasscals @qhbr2013 @seasonschange-butpeopledont @greeneyedblondie44 @princess76179 @kaermorons @lv7867 @whovianwar @purelypascal

#marcus pike x reader #marcus pike imagine #marcus pike #the mentalist #writer wednesday #autumnleaves1991 blog #i love this so much #i’m proud of this one #marcus pike is therapeutic #my government assigned soft fbi agent

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quartzwriting · 4 years ago

Text

The Sorcerer and The Agent

Pairing: Doctor Strange X Avenger!Reader

Description: After a training session, you stumble into a meeting where an unexpected visitor makes you, a former SHIELD Agent, shy.

Warnings: Non

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Originally posted on Quotev / This story is divided into two parts, one through the readers point of view and one where it is retold in Stephen’s perspective.

Masterlist | Fic Reading Recs | Ao3 | Quotev | Coffee

PART ONE: The Agent

This morning's training was brutal. Natasha usually pushed you hard, but something today told her to push your limits. Some force in the universe told her to make you suffer today. And you did. By the end you were drenched in sweat, gasping for a proper breath of air, and in desperate need of a hot shower. You knew your muscles would be screaming at you tomorrow morning.

After you had taken a break, one that consisted of you lying on the training room floor for a while, Nat asked you to go tell Tony that the hologram training simulator was having some problems. He had been working on the thing for a while and there were still a few glitches that you had discovered today. Forcing your legs to get up and move, you made your way to the elevator to head a few floors up, regardless how wobbly they were feeling. They were literally jelly and it took you a little to get coordination back.

A post-workout towel was swung around your neck and you were still wearing your gear. Workout leggings, sports bra and top, the gloves you always wore on the field. Nat did not give you anytime to change before she sent you on your way to Tony. You were a hot mess and very tired, so you were ready to get it done and over with so you could shower and take a nap. FRIDAY told you that Stark was in the upstairs lounge.

Dabbing off the last bit of sweat from your forehead, you yawned from how tired you were as the elevator opened and you stepped into hallway that lead to the lounge. As you walked in you spoke, "Stark, your hologram training simulator is having some problems. It looks like there's something wrong with-"

You stopped dead.

Along with Tony, who was resting on a chair that was pulled backwards, there were two more people gathered around a table where small meetings were often held. One of them was Steve, who had some paperwork out in front of him. The other was Stephen Strange. You had not expected him to be there. He looked bored, listening to Tony talking probably. But his expression changed a little when the three of them heard you walk in.

Sure, you did not want to admit it but you found the man very attractive. Whenever he came to the compound you always tried to sneak an extra glance at him when he was not looking. And when you were not doing that you were trying not to look at him cause he might see the blush on your face. But when you did have to look at him, whether it be at a meeting or at a gathering or just across the room to say hi, you lost your ability to focus. Something about him made you forget everything else. His sarcasm and quick wit that rivaled Tony's. Perfectly styled hair with swoops of grey that were surprisingly fitting to his style. Neatly kept facial hair that framed his cupid's bow-lips that you often wondered of their softness. Beautiful eyes of crystal ocean blue that are always so bright, even when giving a cold stare. And that voice, Goddamn that smooth, low voice.

And there you were, looking like a total mess in front of him.

You wish you had not listened to Nat, that you instead went to your room and took a nap right away. You wished you were not looking like you just walked out of a workout session while your skin glistened with the remains of sweat and your hair messy. And you wish you could go hide of embarrassment.

You snapped out of your little trance of shock and tired to pick back up what you were saying, "w-with the projectors."

Tony visibly scrunched up his face, "That's weird. It was working when I tested it yesterday."

You struggled to speak when you were this distracted and surprised, "Nat and I were training. The thing is busted."

You could feel his eyes on you. I regret this, you mentally whined to yourself.

"I'll have a look at it later."

You would have turned around and walked out, make it look like you had some work to do. But instead Steve had to open his mouth. "Training go well today, (Y/N)?"

You wanted to die.

"Sure." You shrugged, trying to keep cool. "Nat pushed me hard."

"Looks like it." Steve laughed. You wanted to punch him.

You chuckled nervously and cleared your throat, "Well um I'm gonna go upstairs and shower. I have more work to do after."

As you said this, your eyes met with Stephen's. Direct eye contact with those blue eye, those beautiful blue eyes. You risked a little smile at him. You probably looked dumb in the state you were in so you sort of regretted it. But the smile you got back made you not regret it at all.

You turned on your heel and walked as fast as you could without looking suspicious.

"Oh! You need to refile that mission report from yesterday, (Y/N). FRIDAY processed your bodycam footage and you need to make a new timeline."

"I'm aware, Stark!" You did not look back as you snapped at him. Just another task on your ever growing list of things to do.

Upon exiting, you missed the door. You ran into the door frame with a bang. You tried to brush it off like everything was fine. You felt everyone's eyes turn back to you, digging into you like the weight of the embarrassment itself. And you swore you heard someone chuckling as you quickly left the room.

Now you were desperate to go hide in your room and never show your face again.

PART TWO: The Sorcerer

Listening to Tony babble was always brutal. Every single time Stephen came to the Avengers compound for a meeting the man of iron would always end up talking too much. The look on Steve's face said that even he was tired of listening to Tony talk about this new technology he has been working on. Stephen could not even remember what it was in the first place, something about holograms maybe. His fingers tapped on the table, the metal of his slingring making an impatient noise as it hit the wood.

Both him and Captain Rogers exchanged a look. They wanted this meeting to keep going but Stark would not shut up. This happened often. A little too often. His mind started to wander, draining out Tony's voice and being replaced with his long to do list for today.

Suddenly the door to the lounge opened and someone walked into the room, soft footsteps hitting the floor as they came closer.

"Stark, your hologram training simulator is having some problems. It looks like there's something wrong with-"

Stephen perked up at the familiar voice. He quickly connected it to the owner. It was (Y/N) (L/N)'s voice. And there she was when he looked up.

He was not expecting to see her in the state she was currently in.

She was wearing workout clothes like she had just come from training, looking a little out of breath and energy. Traces of sweat covered her forehead and shoulder, and her cheeks were flushed a soft pink. Her skin glowed a little. He made note of what exactly she was wearing, a tank top with a sports bra peaking out from underneath. A pair of gloves that he had seen her wear before. And leggings. Very form fitting ones. He clenched his jaw and swallowed.

Whenever he needed to come to the Avengers compound for some business, he kind of hoped to catch a glance of her. Something about her always grabbed his attention. She was attractive, but also very kind and sweet. He would see you laughing with your coworkers and the image would stick in his head for a while. He would remember a snarky comment you made at a meeting that made him chuckle a little too hard. He would wonder what you looked like on a field mission, all serious or with a sprinkle of cockiness between a determined look. You were very interesting to him, in a good way.

"w-with the projectors." She finished. He was so lost in his own thoughts that he forgot she was talking for a second.

Then the thought of her working out in that outfit came to mind... but he quickly shut that out because he knew where that would go. But it trickled in the corners of his mind, and the wonder poked at him about another situation where she would be blushing and covered in sw-

He stopped himself as Tony's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. "That's weird. It was working when I tested it yesterday."

"Nat and I were training. The thing is busted." Her voice cracked.

He risked another glance at you, and he did not regret it.

"I'll have a look at it later." Tony groaned.

"Training go well today, (Y/N)?" Rogers asked her.

The woman shrugged, "Sure. Nat pushed me hard."

The captain laughed, "Looks like it."

At that moment Stephen realized that she looked a little embarrassed. He was not sure why. But he swear he saw the already present blush on her cheeks deepen. She chuckled a little, he sensed a trace of nervousness in it. Yes she was embarrassed. He had to admit, it was kind of cute.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, "Well um I'm gonna go upstairs and shower. I have more work to do after."

He made eye contact with her. She smiled at him, and he melted a little. It was a very pretty smile. He gave her one right back, a genuine one that reflected her own.

Her previous words echoed in his mind. Shower. Stephen, stop!

The woman turned to leave and the others turned back to the table and paperwork they were going through. Stephen let out a breath as he turned his attention back to the material of the meeting.

"Oh! You need to refile that mission report from yesterday, (Y/N). FRIDAY processed your bodycam footage and you need to make a new timeline."

"I'm aware, Stark!"

The corner of his lips tugged up.

There was a bang and (Y/N) had run into the door frame, causing the three men to look up. She quickly left the room, it was now obvious that she was embarrassed. He did not blame her since she just pulled a maneuver like that. A SHIELD agent and master of stealth, from what he was told, just dumbly ran into a wall.

He could not help it. He started chuckling.

She's adorable, he thought to himself.

"What's gotten into her?" Steve asked, leaning back in his chair. "Maybe Nat overworked her."

Tony laughed, "Nah. Probably because there's a strange man in the room."

Stephen grinned, but then ran that statement through his head again. He could not think of anything. That woman was a mystery, that's for sure.

#doctor strange x reader #doctor strange #doctor strange x you #doctor strange fanfiction #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange #reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #the avengers #marvel reader insert #avenger reader #benedict cumberbatch #tony stark #steve rogers #fanfiction

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