#silently watching him move about in the end | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ventismacchiato · 13 hours ago

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17 stuck with you — jealousy jealousy !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

content warning: oblivious idiots

MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT: YOUR POINT OF VIEW

When you and the others returned from the island, you walked into the dorms to find everyone either drunk or in the process of getting there. When Yae asked what everyone wanted for catering, the unanimous answer was alcohol—until Jean reminded them they’d need food too.

You’d had a drink or two and were playing a halfhearted game of cards on the floor with Venti and Aether. Nobody seemed interested in going to bed. Getting drunk was the perfect way to forget the stress of the show.

Scara sat near the door, absentmindedly pulling out blocks in the game of Jenga Fischl had set up beside him. The atmosphere was surprisingly calm…for now.

Then Mona stood up from where she’d been teaching Yoimiya how to make a drink and plopped down next to Scara. He didn’t look too thrilled by the move.

“So, Kuni?” she slurred.

You froze at the name. Scara had made it clear that nobody but you called him that.

“Don’t call me that,” Scara muttered, his voice flat.

“Aww, why not? I thought I meant more than that,” Mona teased, clearly influenced by the alcohol.

“Can you go bother someone else?” Scara shot back.

“Don’t be like that!” Mona huffed, nudging him with her shoulder. “Want a massage? You used to love my massages.” She said the last part while looking directly at you, her hand casually caressing Scara’s shoulder. You quickly looked away, trying not to make it obvious that you were listening.

Scara removed her hand from his shoulder, pointedly avoiding eye contact. Mona didn’t let it go.

“Why won’t you just pay attention to me?” she whined, leaning closer.

“Can you not?” Scara finally turned to face her, his voice sharp. “What the hell are you even doing here?”

At this point, the whole room was trying to act like they weren’t paying attention, but it was clear they were all watching

“I just wanted to talk—” Mona began, but Scara interrupted her.

“I mean, what are you doing on this island?”

“I came to win you over,” Mona said, as though the answer was obvious.

“You’re the one who broke up with me,” Scara huffed, crossing his arms. “Don’t give me that bullshit.”

Mona took a long swig from her drink, unfazed.

“I didn’t want to,” she sighed, her voice thick with alcohol. “I would’ve stuck it out if your mom hadn’t… well…”

You felt a flush of heat spread across your face at the mention of Scara’s mother. You weren’t the only one who noticed; Childe, Aether, and Kazuha exchanged glances, each looking more uncomfortable by the second.

Scara grabbed Mona’s glass from her hand, his fingers tight around it. “You should shut up.”

Mona, however, was too far gone to be deterred.

“How could I not take the contract? You know how bad my old management was. I had no choice. It was either that or you. You know how it is.”

It was only when she noticed the entire room was staring at her that a little sobriety seemed to return. She clamped her palm over her mouth and stared at Scara, wide-eyed.

“Sorry… I didn’t mean to say that,” she mumbled, her voice the most sincere it had been all night.

Scara didn’t answer. He just stared at the ground, his face unreadable, while Mona rambled her apology. The rest of the room shifted awkwardly, unsure if they should intervene or just let it pass. You could feel your heart race, had that been the real reason for their breakup? You had always thought Scara had ended things on his own terms.

Mona reached out for him, but Scara stood up abruptly, stepping over the scattered Jenga blocks on the floor as he moved toward the door. It creaked open, letting in a cold gust of night air before slamming shut behind him.

The room fell silent for a moment. Then, Mona stood, swaying slightly, and started after him.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea…” Kazuha murmured, but his words were drowned out by the sound of the door shutting once again.

“Did you guys know about all that?” Venti asked, turning to Aether.

“Since it’s out in the open, yeah,” Aether sighed.

“We need to stop giving her drinks,” Lumine muttered under her breath.

“I’m kind of worried about Mona going after him,” Childe said, rising from his seat to peer out the window. “Knowing Scara, he might drown himself… or her.”

“I’ll go be a witness to the murder then,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. Childe gave you a sympathetic pat on the shoulder as you made your way out the door.

You didn’t know why you felt the sudden urge to follow him. It had always been about trying to surpass him before. But tonight…tonight you just wanted to catch up to him. To be equals.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The bench is cold beneath him and the sea breeze is a sharp slap against his face as he stares out at the crashing waves. It’s quiet but it does little to distract him from the turmoil in his chest. His fingers curl around the cigarette, the thin paper already loose from where he pocketed it earlier. He twirls it between his fingers absently, trying to focus on the motions instead of his thoughts.

The urge to light it is almost unbearable. He can almost feel the familiar ache, the way the smoke would crawl its way down his lungs and quiet everything inside him. It would help him forget. At least for a little while.

But he promised he wouldn’t.

Your words echo in his head like a soft, repeated prayer, something that clings to him even when he’s alone. He knows if he takes that drag, it’s one more step back from everything he's trying to hold onto. One more thing he’ll have to explain to you, and he can’t stomach that right now.

So instead, he flicks the cigarette into the sand, watching it settle there like a tiny, forgotten thing, and then turns his gaze back to the sea. His breath hitches in his chest. If it isn’t the lack of nicotine that’s bothering him, it’s something else. Something sharper, older.

Something that happened more than a year ago.

Mona’s slurred words made the memory hit him with the force of a slap. It wasn’t her betrayal that stung, not really. He knew the two of them were never that serious. But it was the fact that she had chosen his mother over him. The fact that his own mother had paid her off like it was nothing.

Mona had once been sweet back when they first met. Her determination to be an idol had reminded him of you in a way. Maybe he was just searching for a piece of you in anyone he could find.

“Scara?”

He doesn’t have to turn to know it’s her. He can smell the alcohol before he hears the soft, slurred voice, and when he finally looks up, there she is, weaving on unsteady feet, her hair tangled around her shoulders, eyes glazed.

She’s drunk.

God, what a fucking mess.

“I—uh—can I sit?” She hiccups, and despite himself, he shifts slightly to make room on the bench, the muscles in his back tense, coiled, but his body obeys the unspoken politeness he’d long been taught.

Mona doesn’t wait for a response. She just slumps beside him, her hands gripping her knees like she’s trying to hold herself together.

“I didn’t mean it,” she says after a long silence, the words coming out in a rush, broken by more hiccups. “I didn’t mean to say it to everyone. I swear, I didn’t. I was just—I was just trying to make you… jealous, or something.”

Scara doesn’t say anything. He can already feel his patience wearing thin, his hand tightening into a fist. He knows where this is going.

“You know how I get when I drink,” she continues, her voice small, vulnerable in a way that makes his gut twist. She leans into him, her breath warm and sour with alcohol. “I was just trying to get a rise out of you. I thought... maybe it’d make you care more. Maybe it’d make you feel something for once, you know?”

He stares ahead, trying to focus on the horizon, trying to avoid the heat of her body next to his, the smell of liquor clinging to her like a second skin. She’s slurring more now, and with every word, the tension in his chest grows heavier, pressing down until he’s almost suffocating.

He can feel her swaying beside him, her body suddenly lurching forward as she clutches her stomach. He reaches out instinctively, used to her being like this, his hand awkwardly rubbing her back just to keep her from falling over. She feels so fragile in his touch, but that fragility doesn’t excuse the way she’s always tried to pull him back into her drama.

She leans in, too close again, her words spilling out in a rush like she's been holding them back for too long.

“You know...” she starts, her eyes dark and unfocused. “I only started acting out because you wouldn’t pay me any attention anymore. You were always complaining about YN. Always.”

She lets out a short, frustrated laugh, and then hiccups, her face flushing. “I know it wasn’t love, Scara. I’m not stupid. It was just a stupid distraction wasn’t it, from whatever you felt for them.”

He looks over at her, eyebrows furrowed.

“Even if you didn’t realize it back then, I did. Even if all we had was physical you can’t deny it worked. We were good at that. So yeah, I got a little carried away. But if you hadn’t been so busy chasing them around, maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.”

He can’t even find it in himself to deny it. After he had started dating her you’d started avoiding him for one reason or another. Maybe you thought everyone would get the wrong idea.

But it killed him.

“That doesn’t mean you can just run off and take the first offer my mom gives to you,” he snaps, his tone cutting. “If you really didn’t like the way I treated you that badly, you could’ve left. You could’ve walked away. No one was holding you here.”

He shakes his head, frustrated they were having this talk now of all time, “But you didn’t, did you? You stayed. Because you knew being with me—even if it wasn’t love—would give you the eyes on you that you wanted so damn badly.”

“You’re right,” she admits, the words coming out quietly. “ But I didn’t know what else to do. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

Scara scoffs at that.

“It didn’t look like it. All I saw was someone who was more interested in being the center of attention than me,” He shakes his head, turning his back to her for a moment. Honestly, he could keep going. But they were only having this conversation because she was drunk. There was no point, he was over it.

He exhales sharply, his tone flat when he speaks again, as if he’s just given up.

"Yeah, okay," Scara mutters, voice distant. "It's fine. It’s not like you’ll even remember this tomorrow, anyway.”

It’s the only thing he says, just to make the whole thing stop. He knows she’s looking for something else. An apology, maybe, or some kind of validation. But he’s too fucking tired to give her that now. And it’s not like he’s going to receive one.

"Really?" Her voice rises in a way that makes him want to shove her away. "You're fine with it?"

He doesn’t respond, though now he’s just waiting for her to puke all over him. The sound of the ocean lapping against the shore is the only thing filling the silence, until she’s leaning in closer, her breath hot on his ear, her face too close.

“You know,” she whispers, her words slurred and soft, “I wouldn't mind going back to what we had. Just for a night.”

Before he can stop her, she’s pressing her lips to his, soft and insistent, her body leaning into his as though this is what she’s been waiting for all along. Her mouth is warm, her hands finding their way to his chest, and for a moment, Scara’s heart stops.

Not because he wants it, but because he doesn’t.

He’s frozen, a quiet alarm ringing in his head. This isn’t real. This isn’t what he wants. Not from her.

Even if it was only for a few seconds, the moment stretches too long until he can finally pry her away from him. And when he does finally pull back, his hand is shaking.

“Don’t do that,” he says, voice tight with something: frustration, anger, confusion, maybe a little bit of pain. “Don’t try to fix this with... that.”

She blinks at him, confused, the haze of alcohol still clouding her eyes. "But... but I thought... we could—"

He stands up abruptly, cutting her off before she can make this worse. "Just... don't." The words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

She looks rather pitiful sitting on the bench like that, and he almost feels bad. Almost.

“You should just go,” he says, his voice flat, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

But then, as he turns to leave, he sees you.

In the distance, walking towards the kitchens, your figure framed by the fading light. Seeing you makes something inside him twist. He starts to wonder why you’d come out soon after he stormed off. The idea of you coming back, walking over to him like you actually care. Just that thought is enough to loosen the tight knot in his chest. He didn’t even realize how much he was holding his breath, waiting for it. For a moment, he lets himself imagine you doing it. He almost expects it, but the longer he stands there, the more he realizes it’s just a fantasy. He watches you for a moment, then his stomach drops when he realizes if you were out there you must’ve walked by him.

You had seen the kiss.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Your feet moved before your brain had a chance to tell you no. It was a strange instinct, one you didn’t quite understand. You’d never been one to comfort Scara. You’d been at odds with him for as long as you could remember, enemies in every sense of the word.

But after what you’d learned about his mother just the thought of him being alone, struggling with it, gnawed at you. You wanted to check on him. You needed to check on him.

The island was massive, and Scara wasn’t exactly known for his athleticism, so you figured it wouldn’t be too hard to find him. Still, your mind raced as you walked, trying to come up with something, anything, that would make him feel even a fraction better. What could you say to him that wouldn’t sound patronizing, or worse, awkward? You weren’t even sure you could help him, but you had to try.

And then, there it was.

The beach. The bench. The figure slumped against it. Scara. The cigarette in his hand. You’d found him.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you tried to steady yourself. This wasn’t a time to lose control. But before you could take another step, your eyes caught the familiar outline of someone else. Mona. She was walking toward him, wobbling a little as she approached, and suddenly the moment felt off.

You stopped in your tracks, half hidden by a few tall bushes nearby, your body suddenly rooted in place. You should’ve turned around and gone back to the party. Scara was clearly occupied. He would be okay, right?

But no. Your eyes stayed locked on the two of them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away.

Mona was standing next to him now, her chest heaving slightly from hiccups, and her words were slurred as she spoke. Scara wasn’t saying much, but his hand moved, almost instinctively, it seemed, to rub her back, slow and careful. As if he was...comforting her. You felt your pulse quicken, a strange sense of something building up in your chest, something like a heavy weight pressing down on your ribs.

A normal person would’ve walked away, turned around and walked back to the party, chalking it up to nothing more than two people talking, nothing more than Scara being himself. But you were never normal when it came to Scara. So instead, you stayed rooted in the shadow, just watching like some creep. The words you had rehearsed in your head seemed meaningless now, overshadowed by the confusion swelling inside you. What was happening?

And then, without warning, you saw it.

Mona leaned in, her lips pressing against Scara’s.

The world tilted on its axis. You didn’t even know how to react at first. A cold knot of jealousy, something sharp and unexpected, wrapped around your chest, and you felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs.

Scara, someone you’d considered your mortal enemy, the person you had spent years fighting against, was kissing Mona. She wasn’t even trying to hide it, her hands clinging to his chest. Just the sight was enough to leave you standing there, paralyzed.

You shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t care.

It was a mantra you were repeating in your head. But the jealousy gnawed at you in a way you didn’t understand, the sting in your chest a sharp reminder that maybe you cared a lot more than you’d ever let on. You’d always been jealous of Scara throughout the years, that feeling was something familiar. But this was something different. Your stomach is twisting with something you couldn’t name. Something that hurt to acknowledge.

Oh.

Without even thinking, you turned away, stepping back into the shadows, your feet felt heavy beneath you. You had no idea what you were feeling anymore. Or you did, but you couldn’t even voice it.

Scara was kissing Mona. Your Scara. Your Kuni. And you were standing there, like a fool.

If you had run after him a bit faster would you be the one he’d be kissing? That wasn’t the problem, though. No. The thing that bothered you the most was the way it made you feel like an outsider. The way it reminded you, in an almost painful way, that you weren’t the one he turned to for comfort.

That was how it had always been. Always. It shouldn’t have mattered.

But it did.

You didn’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the way he looked at you when he was angry, or the way he tried to hide his vulnerabilities. Maybe it was the constant back-and-forth, the challenge. Maybe it was the fact that he was always there, whether it be to hit you with a snarky remark or laugh at you when you fell second to him again. He’d always been there.

But you cared. And that made you want to punch something, or scream, or both. You’d never imagined a day when you would care about Scara in any way other than annoyance, or the irritation of seeing him always one step ahead.

Suddenly, your feet moved as fast as they could to get you out of there.

The walk from the beach to the kitchens feels like it takes longer than it should. The adrenaline from earlier is wearing off.

You step into the kitchens, the cool air inside a sharp contrast to the warmth of the night outside. The lights are low, casting shadows over the countertops, still littered from the dishes from earlier. A clink of glass catches your attention first, and then a familiar voice.

“You finally made it in here.”

You stop, looking up until your eyes land on Heizou. His casual smile is the same one he always had, though there's something softer in it tonight, like he’s been waiting. He’s got a glass of water in his hand, and you realize he must’ve been looking for you. He’s the last person you want to see right now, but he doesn’t seem surprised by your presence.

“You didn’t go back to the party,” he continues, setting the glass down on the counter. “I figured you might be hiding in here. You don’t look like you’re in the mood for another drink.”

You’re about to reply, but he catches you off guard by speaking up.

“Are you okay?”

You pause. It’s a simple question, but for some reason, it feels heavy. Before you even know what’s happening, the words just spill out.

“No, I’m not okay,” you start, your voice a little more brittle than you intended.

“I just... I just watched him. Scara. I saw him with Mona. It’s like everything I’ve been trying to avoid came crashing down in front of me. I don’t even know what to feel. It’s just... why is everything so complicated? Why does he have to make things so complicated?”

Heizou doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t look at you like you’re insane for spilling everything. He just watches, his calm expression making the chaos in your head even more prominent.

“Is that really what’s bothering you?” he asks softly, the faintest hint of concern in his eyes.

You blink, realizing that you’ve been ranting and completely unaware of how you’ve been projecting everything onto him. Heizou seems to sense it too, because next thing you know, he’s stepping closer, his presence warm and steady as he leans a little into the counter beside you.

“Hey,” he says, his tone gentle. “Come on. You need to relax.”

Before you can protest, Heizou wraps a reassuring arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. He places a hand lightly on your head, urging you to lean into him. You hesitate for a moment before giving in, resting your cheek against his shoulder. His body is a familiar comfort, though you didn’t expect it to be this comforting tonight. In the quiet of the kitchen, you realize how exhausted you are.

“You know,” Heizou says, his voice quiet but teasing, “I have no chance now, do I?”

You blink, not fully processing his words. “Huh?”

Heizou laughs softly, caressing his hand over your cheek, “Still as oblivious as ever, huh?”

You feel your brow furrow. “What are you talking about?”

Heizou’s fingers brush through your hair gently, like he’s trying to sort through his own thoughts. “It’s him, right?”

You pull back just enough to meet his eyes, your heart beating a little faster. “What? No. I—”

But before you can finish, Heizou cuts you off, a playful glint in his eyes. “You know, I saw you two kiss on the show. The hot tub.” He pauses, studying your face for any shift. “It was... something, wasn’t it?”

You feel your stomach tighten, the thought of the kiss now a distant, uncomfortable memory. “You know that was fake, right?” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

Heizou’s eyes stay locked on yours for a long moment, and there’s a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. He nods slowly, but there’s a slight edge to his tone. “Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.”

You swallow, the words suddenly feeling sharp. Your chest tightens, and you know you have to say something. You didn’t want to hurt Heizou’s feelings after he came all the way out here.

“No. It didn’t,” you say, your voice firm but tinged with something that feels more like a lie than you want to admit. “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

You don’t notice at first, but Heizou’s smile falters just the tiniest bit. “Yeah. Sure,” he says, his voice warmer now, almost wistful.

He doesn’t say anything else, but the silence between you both stretches out, heavy with unspoken understanding. You feel a little stupid for saying so much, for trying to convince him, or even yourself, that it was all nothing. You knew it was far from nothing.

Heizou finally breaks the tension, grabbing the water bottles he came in for. “Yeah, sure. Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

You stand there, watching him leave, suddenly realizing you’ve just unloaded more than you intended. But before he walks out the door, Heizou looks back, giving you one last knowing look, then disappears back into the hallway.

You’re still standing there when you hear a soft voice outside the kitchen door.

“Interesting.”

You freeze. Your heart skips a beat.

You turn slowly, your breath catching in your throat when you see Scara standing in the doorway, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, like he’s been listening the entire time.

For a second, all you can do is stare at him. And then it hits you, the way Heizou’s words must’ve sounded to him. The way you had tried to downplay the kiss. The way you’d tried to convince Heizou that it meant nothing.

Scara raises an eyebrow, looking almost amused, but his eyes were glazed over with something else. “Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

The words stick in your throat, and before you can even try to explain, the hurt in his eyes is enough to make you realize he’s probably already misunderstood.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

Scara barely registered the words Mona was slurring anymore, his thoughts still tangled in knots from everything that had just happened. The sour taste of her lips still lingered. That wasn’t what bothered him. What bothered him was the thought of you seeing him like that. Seeing him with Mona.

He had to get out of there. Fast.

His mind raced as he stormed off, barely even registering where his feet were taking him. His body moved on autopilot, following after you towards the kitchens.

When he reached the door, he paused for a moment, chest tight with a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. There was a soft clinking sound from inside. The low hum of voices.

And then he heard it.

Heizou. Of course. Scara narrowed his eyes, already annoyed. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with him.

The door was slightly ajar, and without even thinking, Scara found himself inching closer, the need to know what was going on outweighing the nagging voice in his head telling him to turn around. To leave.

What he saw made his stomach churn in a way he hadn’t expected.

You were standing there, your face softer than he’d ever seen it, as Heizou pulled you into his side. The way your body melted into him like it was second nature to be close to him was unsettling, like something sharp had just slid under his skin.

For a second, Scara froze. His thoughts were clouded with the absurdity of it. You with Heizou? Who didn’t know you like he did? Absurd.

It wasn’t like you owed him an explanation. Yet the sight of you resting against him, affectionate, something Scara hadn’t seen you do with him made him... unseen. Like he didn’t belong in your life at all. The knot in his chest pulled tighter.

His breath caught, and before he could do something stupid he stopped himself. What was he even supposed to say? He wasn’t entitled to anything from you. He wasn’t yours.

So he stayed outside, watching. Listening.

He could hear Heizou’s voice, low and teasing, and then yours, soft but firm.

“No. It didn’t,” you said, your voice cutting through the quiet kitchen, and Scara’s chest clenched painfully. “You know that was all fake, right? It didn’t mean anything. It was just part of the show.”

His heart skipped a beat, the words slicing through the silence like a blade. His stomach churned, and the weight of them hit him harder than any punch.

It wasn’t supposed to matter. It shouldn’t matter.

But it did.

Scara’s fingers dug into the frame of the door, his knuckles white. The words rang in his ears, repeating over and over. He tried to steady himself, tried to remind himself that it was all a game. The hot tub wasn’t supposed to mean anything to him, until it did.

But hearing you say it, hearing you so casually dismiss the kiss, made him feel like he was choking on something sharp and heavy. It was all fake. He had no right to feel that way.

The worst part was, he didn’t even know what to do with it. With you.

You’d both made it clear from the start that this wasn’t supposed to be anything. A show, a performance. The kiss was meaningless. Just another part of the script. He didn’t expect anything different. But hearing you say it so coldly and without any hesitation made something in him snap.

Before he could take a step back, Heizou’s voice drifted through the door again, a quiet laugh in his tone. “Yeah, sure.”

Scara could practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, I get it. But it was your first kiss, right? It had to have meant something. At least to you.” The burgundy haired nuisance continued.

Scara's breath hitched, his chest tightening even further as he leaned in closer to the door, his pulse quickening. He felt an uncontrollable wave of frustration crashing through him. He could feel the words hitting him, one after the other, like Heizou’s voice was a punch to the gut. But worse was the feeling that came with it. The one that told him Heizou was right. That it had meant something. That he had somehow allowed himself to believe that the kiss between you and him had meant something beyond a simple game. He hadn’t realized how stupid you were making him.

But then your voice came through, clear and harsh, “It was all fake. The kiss...everything. It didn’t mean anything.”

Scara’s fingers trembled at the doorframe. The knot in his chest was tightening, twisting around his lungs. You were denying it. Denying him. The kiss, the heat, the rush of it. You were dismissing it like it had been nothing more than a convenient illusion. You weren’t wrong, the rational part of him knew that. That didn’t mean he had hoped you’d thought otherwise.

Everything he had been fighting so hard to bury flared back to life, hotter than before.

Heizou chuckled, a lighthearted sound, but it only made Scara feel more exposed. “Yeah, sure.” Heizou’s voice grew quieter, and Scara heard him getting ready to leave. “Well, I guess I should get back to the others and sober them up. But... good luck, okay? With everything. With…him.”

The kitchen door creaked as it swung open, and Heizou left without a second glance, his footsteps fading down the hall.

He was about to turn and leave, he had too. But just as always with you, he couldn’t help but fight back.

“Interesting.”

You stood there in the doorway, looking caught between embarrassment and something else, your face pale, your eyes flicking nervously between the open door and him.

Scara stared at you for a long moment, his throat tight, before he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“Didn’t mean anything, huh?”

It wasn’t a question. It was a statement.

YOUR POINT OF VIEW

Scara lets out a dry chuckle, sharp and almost bitter, before walking off. Your heart is still racing, adrenaline surging through you. The confusion is all still a blur.

And yet you follow him.

Something you’d never do, especially with him. But a part of you still wants to make sure he’s okay. And a bigger part of you doesn’t want him to walk away with the wrong idea.

“Why’d you follow me here?” you ask, your voice louder than you intended, still thick with that adrenaline.

He stops abruptly and turns around, eyes dark, but there’s something else there, too: vulnerability.

“Why did you follow me?” he shoots back, his voice low, taunting almost, but you can hear the frustration beneath it.

You stand there for a moment, trying to find the right words, but your thoughts feel tangled. “I just... wanted to see if you were okay,” you say, quieter now, your shoulders sagging. “I know your mom sucks, but...it seems like you were occupied.” You didn’t mean it to come off as bitter as it did.

Scara freezes for a split second, his gaze narrowing into something hard. “She’s the one who came onto me, okay?” His voice is biting, “I shoved her right off. And you can’t say shit, you were all over him back there.”

For a second, you can’t say anything. You feel a hot flush rise to your face. You take a breath, and then the words spill out, almost before you can stop them. “That didn’t even mean anything,” you mutter. “He was just... comforting me. I said that so he wouldn’t feel bad.” You don’t want to explain why. You’re glad he wasn’t there for the entire conversation.

Scara’s eyes flicker with something sharp. “Fine,” he spits out, hands gesturing in exasperation. “It’s all fake, then. Fine! It doesn’t matter. Whatever, you don’t need to explain yourself.”

You feel the words sting, and before you can even think, you’re snapping back. “Fine! Fine, Scara. If that’s what you want to believe, go ahead.”

You both stand there for a few seconds, glaring at each other, neither of you willing to back down. And then, just like that, you both start walking in the same direction.

You glance at him, a little incredulous. “You go first.”

Scara doesn’t even look at you. “No, you go first.”

“I said it first!” you protest, taking a step forward.

“No, you go.”

A beat of silence. Then, in unison, both of you groan.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath. “This is stupid.”

Neither of you says anything else, but you both start walking again. Side by side, but without speaking. The tension between you hasn’t fully dissipated, but now it’s more muted, like you’re both too tired to keep fighting.

By the time you reach the door to the dorms, the adrenaline has started to drain away, leaving only the residual ache of whatever you two just went through. You both stop at the doorstep, standing for a moment in the cool night air.

Scara's eyes drift lazily over to a bottle resting on the corner of the porch, a forgotten drink from earlier in the evening. Without a word, he picks it up, twists off the cap, and offers it to you, his face impassive.

“Want some?” His voice is quieter now, a little less sharp, though the remnants of the earlier tension still hang in the air.

You take it without thinking, your hand brushing his as you grab the bottle. Your throat feels dry, like you’ve just run a marathon, like everything from tonight has left you parched. He’s always left you out of breath.

You take a long sip, the alcohol burning down your throat, and pass it back. Scara drinks, then hands it back to you with a quiet gesture. You both settle onto the steps, the weight of the night pressing down around you, but the silence feels somehow comfortable now.

You’re not sure why, but with each sip, you feel a little less tense, a little less angry. It’s still there, but it's somehow quieter now. Maybe because it doesn’t feel like you need to have all the answers, not right now. Not with him sitting next to you like this.

For a while, neither of you speaks. The only sound is the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore and the occasional sip from the bottle between you. You pass it back and forth like it’s the easiest thing in the world. The weight of the argument is still there, sure, but somehow it doesn’t matter so much anymore.

SCARA’S POINT OF VIEW

The quiet hum of the night surrounds you both as you sit on the porch, the sounds of crickets and the occasional hum of the waves filling the spaces between breaths. The bottle you’re passing back and forth feels less heavy now, unlike the unspoken things still floating around like ghosts between you and him.

You break the silence first, your voice quieter than you intended. “So, what were you and Mona talking about?”

He doesn’t answer right away, taking a slow swig from the bottle, his eyes fixed somewhere off in the distance. His lips press together in a tight line, but he finally turns to you, his expression unreadable. “Well, she was talking at me, really. I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. She was asking if I was ever in love with her…”

You raise an eyebrow, curious, “Well, were you?”

Scara’s gaze shifts. His body is tense. He doesn’t meet your eyes immediately, instead looking off to the side, like he’s searching for something.

He feels the precipice you're both on.

He wants to jump.

“No.”

The word hangs there, and for a moment, everything is still. He can feel the air between you both shift, like the ground beneath your guys’ feet has tilted slightly.

“Really?” you ask, more quietly this time. “How did you know you weren’t in love with her?”

He doesn’t answer right away. He shifts on the step, his foot tapping idly against the wood. He wants to say he just knew, as cliche as that sounds. His eyes are fixed forward now, knowing if he looks at you his words won’t leave his mouth. He takes a swig.

The words come out slowly, like he’s still figuring them out as he speaks.

“I don’t know... I just knew, I guess.” He hesitates, then adds, “What I felt for her is different from what I know love is.”

The silence stretches, and he feels like you’re standing at the edge of something with him.

He’s waiting. He thinks he’s always been waiting for you.

“And you… know what that feels like?” you ask, voice softer now, almost hesitant, like you’re testing the waters.

His eyes finally rake over you.

“I do now.”

You opened your mouth, and he’s hoping something, anything, comes out of it. He felt like he’d just sliced his chest open and was bearing his heart to you with bloodied hands.

His words hang in the air for a long moment, strange and heavy. Your gaze catches his, and for just a second, there’s a flicker in your eyes, something guarded but knowing. Scara holds your gaze, and for a fleeting moment, it’s like everything in him stills. The air is thick, as if the words you’ve both danced around are hanging just out of reach. His fingers tighten around the neck of the bottle, the cool glass a stark contrast to the heat creeping up his neck.

He knows this feeling all too well. The way his chest tightens when he realizes something he’s been waiting for will never come. His mother’s attention. You. It’s a feeling he’s all but accustomed too. But there you were, just out of his reach. He doesn’t expect you to understand. Hell, he doesn’t even understand himself half the time. But in that moment, sitting next to you, he wants you too.

The weight of your unspoken words presses on him. But maybe that’s all this will ever be, a weight. The knowledge that he’ll never feel the same way about anyone else and that you’ll never feel the same about him. That thought stabs at him like a shard of ice in his chest, cold and sharp. He wants to say something, but the words aren’t there. Not yet. Not ever, maybe.

“We should go inside,” he murmurs, breaking the silence, his voice almost a whisper against the night’s stillness.

His voice drops further, and he shifts slightly on the step, his leg brushing against yours. It’s an unconscious motion, but it feels deliberate somehow. Like he wants to be closer but knows better than to ask for it.

“Yeah,” you pipe up from beside him, “We should.”

Yet you both sit there for a few more minutes, passing the bottle until nothing is left in its wake. He doesn’t look over at you again, doesn’t dare too. Instead he gets up and goes inside, leaving you behind.

Something you’ve always said he’s good at.

[00:00:00] POST PARADISE DATE TAKE ONE

YAE: So, do you want to talk about today?

SCARAMOUCHE: Talk about what?

YAE: The kiss, obviously. What else would we talk about?

SCARAMOUCHE: What happened to "Hi, how are you?"

YAE: [LAUGHING] This is a safe space.

SCARAMOUCHE: It absolutely is not, but you want to talk about the kiss? Fine. It wasn't real. I didn't even kiss her back, she was drunk and I don't love her. And I'm not that much of an asshole to take advantage of someone drunk. I'm a terrible person, but not that bad.

YAE: [SPEECHLESS]

SCARAMOUCHE: This is fucking stupid. Why did l even have to explain myself? I have nothing to prove to anybody. [GETS UP]

YAE: Scaramouche, wait—

SCARAMOUCHE: [WALKS OFF SCREEN]

stuck with you!

materlist — prev | next

(typos) *slide 6: feelings wheel / *slide 8: i just had this realization

first update of the year wow!

sorry guys i’m scared to do the keep reading button so…😛

after typing oh. oh. i was like ooh bitch i ate

also ignore how scara lowk littered uhm he picked up his cig after dw! environmentally friendly king!

pls comment or send me an ask if u enjoyed i need motivation 🤗

comment on the MASTERLIST if i can use ur user as a fan in the au!

notes — four updates during break ur welcome! my break ends in two weeksish so idk if ill be able post another one before then so let me rest xx

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

taglist — (closed) @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @flowerypesky @creammpuff @boxdisappeared @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @reivelmin @animeobsessed56 @femaholicc @vi0let-writes @izayumi-chan @aloflapse

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader smau #scaramouche x yn #scaramouche x gender neutral reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x male reader #scaramouche smau #genshin smau #scaramouche genshin x reader #genshin x reader #stuck with you smau

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nerdlvr · 1 day ago

Text

✩ 10 points for hufflepuff !

(MDNI)

smut , hufflepuff!haechan x slytherin!reader (typical) , created this from my 5 books worth of harry potter knowledge pls forgive me , had to throw one merlin's beard in there or else what harry potter au would this be , backshots on a school desk , they're all over the age of 18 tyvm , big dick hyuck (canon) , cocky kinda mean reader , nervous whiny hyuck , unprotected sex , creampie , mentions at the end of renjun and a surprise hufflepuff haha... , requested here !

"wouldn't it be fun to fuck one of those little oafs?"

you rolled your eyes at your very distracted friend, his gaze directed at the table across from yours,

"jun, what are you on about now? focus, and stop thinking about ruining those poor hufflepuffs."

he scoffed, "don't act like you don't think about shagging those pretty little idiots, hearts so big, yet their brains just oh so tiny."

you continued to scribble on your piece of parchment, not wanting to spare a glance at renjun. if only he knew the things you did to lee donghyuck.

you dangled the key's to snape's classroom in front of his face, a wide grin spreading on your lips.

"wha-what if we get caught- snape would kill us if he-"

you shushed him, fingers fidgeting with the rusty key, "good thing snape isn't here then, hm?"

he bit his lip, now silent as he followed you into the empty classroom, a small breeze making him shiver.

"this really isn't a good idea y/n, i should be doing my prefect duties around this time-" he pushed his glasses up before flicking his wrist out to check his watch.

you snorted at his dorky attitude, reaching for his hand to pull him towards a desk, "i have a duty for you mr. prefect-"

you pulled at his tie, loosening the tight accessory, "i have a little issue between my legs-"

you fake pouted, fighting a smile as he nodded dumbly, "and you're the only one that can help me fix it-"

he melted into your grasp, hands gripping the sides of the desk as you palmed him through his pants, "can you help me hyuck? please?"

he gulped, clearly hesitant, but he nodded nonetheless, eager to please you, "o-okay, we just- just need to be quick."

it's not like he didn't want to fuck you, he just didn't think you were actually serious. but now as you shimmied onto the desk, dragging your panties down your legs, he thought that if this was a joke then it was a damn good one.

"donghyuck? are you just gonna stare?" you giggled as he smacked his lips together, mouth dry as his eyes ran down your body, landing straight on your glistening core.

he felt his dick twitch in his pants, hands moving quickly to remove his belt, a new sudden hunger burning in his stomach. "quick- quick- we need to be quick-" he flicked his wrist again, checking the time, "this won't do-" he pulled your hips off the desk, turning you around, ass on full display as he flipped your skirt up.

"now you better be quiet or i swear- oh fuck-" his little speech was cut short as you gripped onto the base of his cock, lining him up against your dripping cunt,

"shut up and fuck me hyuck."

he nodded, more to himself than to you as you turned back around to grip onto the desk, wiggling your ass against his leaky tip,

"shit shit shit-" his whiny voice echoed against the classroom walls as he sank himself into your wet heat, your soft walls squeezing him just right. you felt his head drop against your back, shaky hands gripping at the fabric of your skirt.

"merlin's beard, how are you so tight- ahhh- don't do that!" his grip tightened as you playfully squeezed around him, his hips stuttering against your ass as he bottomed out.

you wanted to be cocky, maybe even give a quick mocking comment, but donghyuck's cock filled you to the brim. your body laid slack against the desk, legs growing weak as he rutted into you, only pressing himself deeper into your sopping cunt. "h-hyuck, move, please."

he nodded, again, more to himself than to you, and began to pull out of you, a loud hissing sound emitting from both of you.

"so, so, so, tight, feels s' good." he slurred his words as he began to slap his hips against your ass, keeping his thrusts shallow to avoid any extra noise echoing throughout the dungeon.

you bit your hand to muffle you moans, back arched against donghyuck's stomach, his arms wrapped around your waist as he fucked into you.

"i can't- can't-" the room filled with donghyuck's babbling, drool spilling from the corners of his mouth onto your dress shirt as he squeezed his eyes shut, focused on the feeling of you sucking him in.

"h-hyuck faster, fast-" his hips picked up in speed, any concern about noise being flung out the window as the loud slapping of you ass against him filled the room.

you gripped onto the desk, the flimsy table shaking and creaking beneath you as donghyuck abused your cunt, thick cock stretching your walls as he pulsed inside of you, "hyuck, hyuck, hyuck, i'm close please- please don't stop."

you slipped your hand in between your legs, fingers rubbing against your sensitive bud. your moans grew louder as he reached for your thigh, pulling your leg up to rest on the table. the new angle made him feel impossibly deeper, the head of his cock kissing your cervix as he continued to slam his hips against yours,

"cum for me- please- need it so bad- i'm gonna come y/n- please."

you felt your body tense, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your mouth hung open in a silent moan. his knuckles turned white from how hard he gripped your skirt, deep moans leaving his mouth as he filled you with his cum, your cunt gently milking him as you finished around him.

"so good, so so good baby- did so good." his rough hands massaged you hips, his lips planting light kissed to the back of your head.

your leg fell from the table and he leaned against you back, breath heavy as he slipped out of you, his cum dripping slowly onto the stone floor,

"10 points for hufflepuff!" you raised your finger weakly, giving your best dumbledore impression.

"just 10?" your soft giggles filled the room, his body shaking softly against yours, when-

"well snape isn't here is he?"

the chatty voice of your best friend filled the room as he slipped in with a familiar tall muscular bimbo.

"oh my god that's jeno!" donghyuck whispered against your back, his hand coming up to pull you down onto the floor,

"we have to go now! renjun moves quick, lets go- go!" you whisper shouted to hyuck as he crawled behind you towards the exit, not forgetting to pocket your soaked green panties.

who said prefects couldn't have a little fun?

#nerdlvr #request #nct #nct dream #haechan #lee haechan #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #nct imagines #nct smut #nct haechan #nct dream smut #nct dream imagines #haechan smut #donghyuck smut #donghyuck imagines #haechan imagines #harry potter

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raekensluver · 2 days ago

Note

just thought about going for a night out while college luigi is at his desk doing homework…he knows it’s time to pick you up or get you an uber when he sees a bunch of misspelled texts from you 😭

i love this ughhh. i needed to write more fluff.

contains: intoxication

luigi mangione x fem!reader

luigi, hunched over in his chair, scribbled notes in the margins with furrowed brows. his eyes danced across the lines of text, his mind racing to decode the complex equations scattered before him. the quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only companion to his focused silence.

his hand paused mid-sentence as the buzz of his phone pierced the air. a series of texts, the screen illuminating with each incoming message. the phone vibrated against the wooden desk, creating a rhythmic pattern that grew more erratic with each notification. luigi sighed, setting his pencil down and picking up the phone.

the texts were from you, but the words looked like a jumble of letters, a linguistic dance that only the inebriated could understand. "hay luigi," the first one read, "im havng soo much funn!" the next few messages were a blur of typos and misplaced vowels, punctuated with random capital letters and exclamation points. a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he pictured you, tipsy and laughing, your thumbs struggling to keep up with the speed of your thoughts.

his heart swelled with affection and a hint of amusement as he read on. "where r u?" "i nead u." "pleez come get me!" the urgency grew with each message, the errors becoming more pronounced as the night progressed. he knew your limits; you weren't one to overdo it, but when you did, it was like watching a charmingly clumsy kitten. the thought of you trying to navigate the crowded streets alone sent a jolt of concern through him, and he decided to take a break from his studies.

luigi dialed your number, the dial tone echoing in his ear as he waited for you to answer. the sound grew louder as the call connected, and he could faintly hear the pulsing bass of a distant dance floor. "hey, it's me," he said when you finally picked up, his voice a calm contrast to the cacophony on the other end. "are you okay?"

you giggled into the phone, the sound bubbly and infectious even through the static. "yesss, lulu," you slurred, "i'm finneee." your laughter was a warm caress against his eardrum, a reminder of the countless times you'd shared joy and laughter together. "but, i've had a litttle too much to drink, and i don't wannnna walk home alone." the words tumbled out in a rush, each syllable stretched and elongated by your excitement.

luigi's smile faded as he processed your admission. "where are you exactly?" he asked, his voice tightening with concern. the background noise grew clearer, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses creating a muted symphony that spoke of a bustling nightlife. you named a club, one you'd visited before with friends. "okay, stay put," he said firmly. "i'm coming to get you."

you giggled sweetly, the sound a melody that danced in the air. "okay, luigiii," you said, your voice dropping to a whisper. "i'll wait right here." the line went silent for a moment, the only sound the thumping bass that grew more distant as you moved the phone away from your mouth. "promise?" luigi heard the hopeful lilt in your voice, a stark contrast to the chaos around you. "promise," he said, the word echoing in the quiet of his room.

#luigi mangione #luigi mangione fanfiction #uhc shooter #luigi mangione x reader #uhc assassin #real person fiction #rpf #luigi mangione fanfic #deny defend depose #luigi mangione blurb #luigi mangione fluff #mara's inbox *ੈ✩‧₊˚#mara's anons *ੈ✩‧₊˚

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mggslover · 5 hours ago

Text

No Strings Attached

In which reader is on a mission to get her boss to relieve some stress, not realizing he'd end up doing the same for her.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!bau!reader Genre: smut (18+) x fluff Content warnings: porn with plot, jessica and jack make an appearance, no mention of haley, hotch smiling (lol), reader being sad and a bit insecure bc she hasn't got laid in a while, mentions of drinking wine, no strings attached (but not really bc they're obsessed with each other), soft!dom hotch, praise, breast play, ass worship, oral (f receiving), p in v sex Word count: 4,7k A/n: first time writing a fic dedicated to Hotch and i fear i'm obsessed... also i had to do some acrobatics to make sure these positions work (they do) so give me a heart for the effort your feedback and support are highly appreciated!

Aaron Hotchner is a busy man. And these days, even more so. The responsibilities of being Unit Chief were always demanding, but they seemed to multiply now that he was balancing the weight of single parenthood as well.

As a profiler it was obvious to you how much he struggled with juggling between these professions, even though he always tried to hide it from the team. You noticed his slightly furrowed brow when he thought no one was watching, and the slow drag of his steps as he moved between meetings and paperwork.

Since you’d joined the team, you'd developed a deep respect for Aaron. Where others saw a hard-nosed, no-nonsense boss—a “drill sergeant” in Morgan’s words—you saw a man who held himself and his team to incredibly high standards because he believed in their potential. You saw a man who cared deeply, even when his personal life was slowly suffocating beneath the pressure of it all.

Even if he would never admit it, no human being can go through the difficulties he goes through without ever catching a break, without getting any help. So tonight, as you passed his office, a light still flickering inside, you decided to do something about it.

Your knuckle made contact with the door, knocking three times as you waited. When there was no immediate response, you quietly creaked the door open.

The sight of him behind the desk was familiar. His shoulders were hunched and his brows furrowed in concentration, as he scanned the endless stacks of paperwork that seemed to breed faster than he could handle them.

"Hey," you greeted softly, offering a small smile as you stepped into the room.

Hotch looked up from the pile in front of him, his gaze flicking from the documents to you. There was a slight exhaustion behind his eyes that he didn’t try to mask.

"Hey.” His eyes dropped to his wristwatch for just a moment, his lips curling into a subtle frown. "It’s late. Why haven’t you gone home yet?"

You waved off his concern. "I’m about to. Had to send a few more emails for the lab reports."

He nodded, but didn’t immediately return to his work. Instead, he watched you with that signature intensity of his, silently observing you.

"I- uh, I wanted to ask you something.” You hesitated for a moment as you moved further into the room, the door gently clicking shut behind you.

His brows rose slightly, an almost imperceptible shift of interest in his posture. "Go on."

You cleared your throat, your hands instinctively clasping behind your back. "You’ve been working a lot of late nights."

“That’s not a question.” He stated in an amused tone.

A small smile played on your lips. "I know, but it’s a… concern," you said. "And I was wondering if there was anything I could do to help you out."

He looked at you, his expression unreadable. His hands folded neatly in his lap, and he leaned back in his chair. It was hard to tell whether he was considering your offer or mentally debating the logistics of it.

"You want to help me out?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes.”

Aaron grabbed a stack of papers, knocking them into a neat pile on his desk, then looked back at you. "So, this is something you’re interested in?" His tone was laced with amusement as he nodded down at the amount of paperwork in his hands.

You winced at the sight of it. "Uh... not exactly," you said, trying to keep your tone light. "I was thinking more along the lines of taking care of Jack," you added, raising your voice slightly on the last part, unsure of how he’d react to your suggestion.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Taking care of Jack?"

"Yeah.” You met his gaze, trying to sound confident despite the uncertainty creeping in. "Just on the days we don’t have a case. I could go to your place and stay with him until you get home."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You know Jessica’s there," he said, referring to his ex-sister-in-law who had taken on the role of taking care of Jack when he had to work.

“Don’t you think she deserves a break every once in a while?”

His expression shifted, becoming slightly defensive. "She offered to take care of him.”

"I know," you responded quickly, knowing he’d never force her into it. "But I’m offering too. I babysat all through university, I know what I’m doing."

He gave you a tight-lipped smile, his eyes flicking back to the papers in front of him. "That’s not necessary, but thank you," he said, his tone closing the conversation.

You weren’t ready to let it go yet. You stepped closer to his desk, hoping to draw his attention back. "Please? I want to help you."

He didn’t look up. "I don’t need any help," he stubbornly replied, his eyes still glued to the paperwork.

“Then let me put it this way,” you pressed on. "I want to help the team, because no offense, your stress is affecting all of us. And on top of that, I want to help Jack."

He glanced up at you, the wheels in his mind turning, and you showed him your best puppy eyes.

"Did you learn that from Reid?" he asked, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Is it working?" you grinned back.

He chuckled breathlessly. "Alright, fine. One night. Let’s see how it goes."

You fought back a victorious grin. “Good. Just you wait, Hotchner. Once you see how great I am with kids, you’ll never let me go."

—

A week later, Hotch took you up on your offer. Jessica had a wedding to attend, and you’d agreed to look after Jack for the evening.

Though you’d spent plenty of time with Jack when he visited his dad at the office or at events outside of work, Hotch insisted on driving you to his place for a proper handoff.

He held the door open for you as you entered his apartment. You were immediately greeted by Jessica, dressed in a stunning outfit with a purse ready in hand.

"I’m late, I’m late!" she panicked, almost running as she headed for the door. But when she saw you, her demeanor softened.

“There’s my saving grace,” she said with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

You waved her off with a grin. “It’s my pleasure. You look amazing, go have fun.”

She offered a final smile, then said her goodbyes to Hotch before quickly heading out.

“Hi, Dad!” Jack’s voice rang out as he bounced into the living room, his excitement palpable. You smiled, watching the little boy as he ran toward his father.

“Hey, buddy.” Hotch lifted him into his arms with a small groan. “You’re getting bigger every day.”

Your heart warmed at the exchange. Hotch was a completely different man when he was at home—more relaxed, more playful, the kind of father who carefully kept work and family separate.

He put Jack down, introducing you to him.

“I know who she is, Dad. We colored together. She’s really good at drawing Spider-Man.”

Hotch raised an intrigued eyebrow at you.

"I have more hidden talents than you know,” you playfully shrugged.

You turned to Jack, crouching down to his level. "Want to grab the crayons? We can make some more drawings."

Jack’s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, he scampered off in search of his favorite colors, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll find the red one!”

You chuckled at his enthusiasm and straightened up, turning back to Hotch. “You’ve got a sweet kid,”

Hotch’s eyes followed Jack as he rummaged through the drawer. There was pride in the way he looked at his son, but you could see the hint of anxiety that always seemed to lurk beneath the surface when it came to Jack.

You placed a reassuring hand on his arm, giving him a small, comforting squeeze. “He’s in good hands, Hotch. You don’t have to worry.”

He met your eyes, and for a brief moment, the weight of his responsibilities seemed to lift. His gaze softened with unspoken gratitude. “I trust you,” he spoke sincerely.

“Good.” You gave him a small smile and gave his bicep a final, reassuring pat. “Now get some work done. You might be able to make it in time for dinner.”

With a final glance at Jack, he turned to leave. The door clicked softly behind him, and you were left on your own with the mini version of him, who was already showing off his new crayons.

—

That evening marked the first of many. When you weren’t out on a case, you found yourself naturally heading to Hotch's after work—sometimes taking over from Jessica for the day or picking up Jack from school yourself. You often stayed well into the evening, even after Hotch came home, enjoying dinner together, playing games, or simply talking. There were even times where you stayed the night, sharing a quiet drink after putting Jack to bed. He’d insist you sleep in his bed while he took the couch. In the mornings, the three of you would share breakfast, with Hotch always ensuring the fridge was stocked with your favorite foods and knowing exactly how you liked your eggs.

You knew your colleagues would lose their minds if they’d ever find out, but for you, it never felt strange. It felt right. Comfortable. And whenever you were back on the field, you’d slip back into your professional roles—the accidental first-name slips the only sign of the bond you shared.

Being at their place made you realize how much your work had tangled itself into every aspect of your life. You’d moved away from family, struggled to maintain a personal life, and watched every attempt at dating falter because of your job. Despite how fulfilling your work at the BAU was, you’d forgotten just how deeply you craved a sense of belonging—a place where you were appreciated for more than just your professional skills or your ability to handle a weapon. Around Aaron and Jack, you could simply let go and be yourself.

Today was another day at the Hotchner house. You had spent the entire afternoon with Jack playing soccer in a nearby park until he was utterly exhausted, you practically had to drag him home. This time you didn’t mind though. Today has been a painful reminder of how single you were. The park had been filled with happy couples—some picnicking, some feeding the ducks, and others nervously sharing their first kiss.

You were grateful for how Aaron had allowed you to wiggle your way into his little family on days like these, but still it wasn’t yours. You still longed for one to call your own one day.

So, here you were—alone on the couch, watching a rom-com wishing you were starring in it, and finding comfort in the warmth of his house and the glass of wine in your hand.

You were so absorbed in the movie that you didn’t notice the door unlocking until Hotch stepped inside.

“Hey,” you greeted, reaching for the remote to pause the film.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he said, putting down his bag and hanging up his jacket. He loosened his tie and walked over to the couch, settling on the opposite end.

“Sorry, I opened a new bottle of wine”

He waved it off. “I’m glad that you did. It would’ve just collected dust on the shelf.”

You take another sip. “It’s a good one. Rossi’s?”

“You know it,” he replied with a soft smile, getting comfortable in the cushions as you put the movie back on.

The screen flickered with a romantic scene: a couple dancing in the rain, the male lead spinning the woman around in circles as they laughed.

“I miss that,” you murmured, a wistful smile tugging at your lips as you watched them.

Hotch glanced at you, a smirk forming. “It’s raining outside. Be my guest.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully dismissing the comment. “That’s not what I meant. Just look, Aaron,” you pointed at the TV, where the couple gazed at each other lovingly, before he pulled her in for a passionate kiss. “I don’t remember the last time someone looked at me like that.”

“Sometimes, I feel so desperate that I think about saying yes to the first guy who comes along, just to feel wanted again.”

Hotch straightened, concern flickering in his eyes. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“I know, Dad,” you teased, trying to ease the tension. “I’m unfortunately fully aware of the creeps out there.”

“On top of that, I’m not even sure anyone would take me up on it,” you added with a breathless laugh, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability. “I haven’t exactly gotten much attention since joining the team. Maybe I’m not considered attractive anymore.”

“People can tell you know how to handle yourself,” he profiled. “Some find that intimidating. But you’re just as attractive—if not more so—than before you joined the team.”

You almost spilled your wine at his confession, the sudden heat in your cheeks betraying the flutter in your stomach.

“You don’t have to say that,” you mumbled, not wanting him to feel pity for you.

“Am I lying?” he asked, his voice steady. You met his gaze—his posture was open, his shoulders relaxed, and his eye contact was unwavering. It was textbook honesty.

“No,” you admitted quietly, feeling the truth of his words sink in.

“I don’t think you need some stranger or a serious relationship to get what you’re after.”

You blinked, not sure if you’d heard him right. “No?”

Hotch leaned in just a little, his voice lower now. “I think we could give each other what we need... without it being complicated.”

Your heart skipped, and you tried to process what he was suggesting. Your mind raced, the words hanging in the air between you.

“Are you suggesting a no-strings-attached relationship with me?”

He gave a small, wry smile. “I’m trying to be subtle about it, but it’s not going so well.”

You laughed, caught off guard, trying to mask your surprise as you saw the seriousness in his expression.

“How will this work?”

The corners of his lips lifted as you acknowledged thinking this through. “We would just… enjoy ourselves. Just when we’re here. Just when it’s the two of us.”

Enjoying yourself with Aaron Hotchner definitely wasn’t how you’d imagined this night going.

You stayed quiet, thinking it over. After a moment you slowly nodded your head. “Okay.”

“Are you sure?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Yes. I am,” you responded, the words coming easier now.

You licked your lips nervously as he moved closer to you. His cologne enveloped you, making your pulse quicken.

As he continued gazing into your eyes, you decided it was your turn to make the next move. Carefully, you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the slight roughness of his stubble against the palm of your hand. A small prayer passed through your mind, hoping you wouldn’t regret your next decision.

Then you kissed him.

The moment his lips met yours, the cliché of “fireworks” suddenly made sense—the feeling was intense, electric, a rush that left you breathless. His hands moved to the sides of your waist, pulling you closer. Before you could think, you were settled on his lap, the world around you narrowing to the heat of his touch.

A small, desperate whimper escaped you as his tongue brushed against yours. It had been so long since someone touched you this way—especially someone as strong and attractive as Aaron. You could feel his heartbeat beneath your fingertips as your hand slid over his chest, the other wrapping around his neck. He deepened the kiss, and the feeling was so overwhelming that it almost made you cry in relief.

He brushed his hands over the smooth curve of your waist and down the swell of your thighs, digging his fingers into the clothed skin.

Your soft moans were swallowed by your kisses, and you couldn’t help yourself as you moved your hips against his, feeling yourself get more aroused with each movement against the thin fabric of his slacks.

He let out a low grunt as you repeatedly rolled your hips against the hardening bulge in his pants. His large hands roamed up beneath your shirt, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You placed your hands over his, ready to take your shirt off, but just as quickly his hands closed around your wrists, stopping you gently.

“Not here,” he warned. “Let’s move to the bedroom.”

His words sent a rush of desire to your core, and though your legs trembled, you stood from his lap and followed him across the room. As he moved, Hotch unbuckled his belt with one swift, effortless motion. You paused mid-step, breath catching at the sight of the leather coiled in his hand, hypnotised by how seductive the image looked. You blinked a couple of times to get out of your trance, before hurrying after him, your legs trying to catch up to his confident pace.

You stepped into the bedroom, moving until you stood at the foot of the bed as he locked the door behind you. A flutter of nerves stirred in your stomach at the reality of what was about to happen.

Hotch walked toward you, slowly closing the distance. His eyes were dark as they took you in with a look of pure lust—one you’d previously never seen on him.

“Turn around for me.”

Maybe it was because you were so accustomed to his authority in the field, or perhaps it was the undeniable fact that you'd let him do anything to you at this point, but without a second thought, you obeyed, turning your back toward him.

His hands reached out to rub over your shoulders in slow circles. You instinctively leaned into him, your eyes closing as you let yourself melt into the comfort of his touch. He presses in closer, his chin resting against your shoulder.

“What is it that you’ve been longing for?” His voice is a soft, sensual whisper, his breath warm against your skin.

A shaky breath escapes your lips as his hands delicately trail over your collarbones, carefully moving lower, inching toward your breasts. The moment his palms cup them, your nipples harden.

He hummed, still awaiting a response.

“You,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible through the thick need.

You feel the faint curve of a teasing smile against your skin. “You already have me,” he murmured. “Tell me how I can make you feel good.”

His thumbs flick over your nipples, and you arch your back into him, feeling the solid press of his body against yours, the hardness in his pants meeting you once again.

“It’s been a while since-” your words dissolve into a moan as his fingers pinch your nipples.

“Since what?” he teased, his lips tracing the curve of your neck, each kiss setting your skin alight.

You swallowed. “Since… since someone’s gone down on me.”

“Is that so?” he hummed, the sound rich with interest. His tongue slides up your neck, before turning it into a kiss.

“Aaron, please,” you begged, grinding your hips into him.

“How can someone like you have been deprived of pleasure for so long?” he thought out loud, and he finally grabbed the material of your shirt, pulling it over your head.

His hands glide softly over your back, before he unclasps your bra with one smooth motion. Your breasts spill free, and he immediately cups them in his hands, holding them as if he wants to keep you warm and covered. The pleasure is even more delicious now that the contact is skin-to-skin.

His hands roam over your stomach, until he reaches the button of your pants, undoing it. He sinks to his knees behind you, his fingers curling around the waistband of your pants and panties, easing them down. A low curse escapes him as the fabric slides over your ass and down your thighs, revealing more of you inch by inch.

You held onto his shoulder for support, as he steadied your leg, guiding you to step out of your pants. The second he tossed the fabric to the side, he placed his hands steadily on your thighs, leaning in to press a heated kiss to your ass. You let out a moan, bucking forward, but he holds you firmly in place as his lips trail wet, lingering kisses over your cheeks.

“Place your knee on the bed for me,” he tenderly instructs.

You followed his order, lifting one knee onto the bed, your upper body arching slightly as it hovers just above the mattress. The cool air brushes over your exposed pussy as you’re displayed in front of him.

A loud moan leaves your mouth, as his tongue makes contact with your folds. The pressure is just right, each flick of his tongue drawing a sharp gasp from you as he licks up and down in a deliberate rhythm.

“You taste like heaven,” he groans, the deep rumble of his voice vibrating through you as he speaks, “dripping down your thighs already.” His lips trail lower, and he laps up the wetness that has gathered on your inner thighs, his stubble tickling against your sensitive skin. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold on to.

Aaron’s tongue returns to your pussy, the tip of it firmly pushing inside, curling upward as he slides in and out, hitting all the right spots, sending waves of pleasure through you. Each thrust makes you cry out.

You let out a small whine as his tongue retreats, pressing a delicate kiss to the tender skin. “Don’t get me wrong,” he starts, licking his lips clean, “I love hearing you, but you can’t be too loud.”

You silently nodded, your breath hitching as his finger unhurriedly traced your sensitive folds. Just as he was about to enter you, you stopped him.

“I- I need your cock,” you whined, your hips pushing back toward him, desperate for more.

“Yeah? You need it that bad?” he teased, as he rose to his feet behind you.

You crawled onto the bed, glancing back at him. His lips still glistened with the trace of you, and his eyes were locked onto yours, filled with predatory focus.

“I need it, Aaron,” you repeated, biting your bottom lip as your gaze lingered on the hard outline of his length pressed against his thigh.

He groaned, his hands quickly pulling at his tie, tossing it aside before he began unbuttoning his shirt. His movements were confident—like a private performance just for you. You leaned back on your arms, your feet planted on the bed, allowing him to see just how much he was making you ache for him.

As he removed his shirt, the muscles in his broad shoulder flexed, and the trail of dark hair down his stomach led your eyes straight to what you craved.

He wasn’t shy as he pulled his pants down, eager to show you just how worked up you’d made him. His length stood hard, the tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You instinctively pressed your thighs together, giving you a soft release of tension.

He joined you on the bed, lying on his side and pulling you flush against his chest, spooning you. His lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his groans vibrating against your mouth. His hand explored your front, squeezing your breasts, while his arousal pressed insistently against your ass.

You moaned, your leg draping over his as you shifted, opening yourself up to him. He reached down, gripping his length, positioning it against you before slowly pushing inside, stretching you inch by inch.

You took a sharp breath, adjusting to the feel of him inside you. His cock throbbed, as if begging for you to move. Slowly, you rolled your hips, taking more of him in, and Hotch’s low growl rumbled in your ear.

“That’s it,” he praised, his voice rough with pleasure. “Taking me so well.”

He was fully inside you now, filling you completely, and his hand slid down to your exposed clit, his fingers moving in slow, rhythmic circles. His thrusts matched the pace, deep and deliberate.

Every movement sent shockwaves through your body, your breath quickening as the familiar knot of pleasure tightened in your stomach.

“I’m close, Aaron,” you whimpered, and he moaned in response, placing soft kisses along your jaw before sucking at your neck, marking you.

His fingers moved faster, pushing you closer to the edge, and your body twitched as your orgasm crashed over you. His arms held you tight, anchoring you as the sensations slowly subsided.

When he withdrew his hand from your clit, it slid down to your knee, bending your leg to spread you even wider. Without warning, he began pounding into you, the sudden change in speed making you cry out, a high-pitched moan escaping your lips.

“Be quiet for me. Don’t make me tell you again,” he warned. You involuntarily moaned at the way he commanded you, and he grunted in response.

With a swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, your body pressed flat against the bed. A sharp gasp escaped you as he grabbed your thighs, lifting them to raise your ass in the air, before entering you again.

One hand pressed firmly into your shoulder, holding you down, while the other gripped your hips, forcing you to meet each of his thrusts. The new position did its job—your moans were muffled into the pillow, leaving only the wet slap of skin and the sound of Hotch’s deep, guttural grunts with each push of his hips.

“They're so stupid for not wanting you,” he groaned. “You have me now. I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your heart fluttered at his words. After feeling this, you knew you wouldn’t ever be satisfied by anyone else. You would want no one but him.

“I’m going to come inside of you,” he breathed, bending over so his chest pressed against your back, his warmth enveloping you.

“Oh-“ Your breath caught as the sensation in your core tightened again. “Yes, please. Inside of me, please.” You couldn’t form a full sentence as the heat inside of your core builds up again.

He reaches under you to touch your clit, and the instant his fingers make contact, you come undone. Your legs tremble, giving way beneath you as the rush of pleasure takes over. Hotch pushes into you two more times before you feel him spill inside, the sensation sending you into another, deeper orgasm.

He presses soft, tender kisses to your shoulder, his breath warm against your skin as he whispers in your ear, “I’m sorry I got a little carried away.”

You hum in satisfaction, a pleased smile tugging at your lips. “I’m glad you did.”

—

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you had a quick shower together—Hotch giving you one more orgasm—and were now laying in bed, your clean bodies tangled under his sheets.

“Will you stay the night?” he asked softly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand as he held you close.

It was endearing how gentle and shy he sounded, a stark contrast to what the two of you had just shared.

“Only if you promise to not move to the couch,” you mumbled sleepily, your voice heavy with exhaustion.

“I wouldn’t dare.”

You turned your head to him, noticing the quiet that had settled between you both.

“What is it?” you asked, tracing absent patterns to his skin.

He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I was thinking… maybe we can attach those strings a bit more.”

You chuckled. “Maybe,” you playfully teased, pressing a final kiss to his lips.

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communistkenobi · 3 days ago

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I’ve watched the first three Mission Impossible movies now and it’s crazy how they’re all completely different films from one another lol. which probably has to do with the fact that they all had radically different directors (Brian de Palma, John Woo, JJ Abrahams), but the only real consistent through line is Tom Cruise. Because even within the ten year time-span between their releases, the series is already unrecognisable from itself

The first one is a 1990s genre-defining heist spy movie and its concerns are very much rooted in the fact that the CIA is now basically this massive institutional leftover of the Cold War with many hanging threads that need to be dealt with (one of the main McGuffins being a list of names of undercover CIA agents scattered throughout ‘Eastern Europe’). When I first watched it I thought it was pretty good but not like great, but after having watched two of its sequels and thought about it some more I’m a lot more positive on it. The imagery of that movie is unforgettable, the highlight being the completely silent scene where Tom Cruise hangs from a wire in an all-white room trying desperately not to touch the floor. It’s crazy that de Palma directed this and Carrie and Scarface, all films with scenes permanently lodged into the cultural consciousness. And like it is a distinctly ‘cool’ movie, but not in the insane rabid jarhead post-9/11 action movie cool way, like there isn’t this fascistic military masculinity grafted onto it, its way more sleek genius spy guy shit. Anyway this one is really good.

The second movie is pretty bad and often barely comprehensible, like the scene-to-scene editing is hard to follow and the pacing is horrible. The experience of watching it is like watching Face-Off (another John Woo movie), like same weird ass vibe and editing except in this case the movie is boring and bad. Some of the stunts are pretty cool but they can’t really rise above the film they take place in. It’s also not a spy movie, it’s just a bad action movie. I feel like MI2’s biggest crime is trivialising Tom Cruise, like he has no presence or command in that film at all, he’s literally just a random guy with long hair. It’s insane the immediate drop in quality. This one is about a bio-engineered virus that the villains want to use to start a pandemic, but the concern feels very far away and immaterial ? Idk I really didn’t like this one

And then the third one is also just as bizarre because it looks and sounds and is written exactly like a Michael Bay film, down to the same vibrant ugly orange-blue colour palette and quippy dialogue and saccharine ending. And it’s also not a spy movie either lmao!!!! Like god the jump in representation of US intelligence agencies from 1996 to 2006 is staggering, it’s moved from using fantastical spy gadgets to very real military hardware and technology, only keeping the spy-magic tech in MI3 (like 3D printing the villain’s face as a mask disguise) because it was already established in the first one. And the action scenes are straightforwardly action scenes, shootouts with military helicopters and dodging precision drone strikes. Tom Cruise does an insane amount of running in this movie and it looks sooooo good, like there are so many long-ass shots of him just fucking booking it at full speed and that dude’s running form was made to be captured on film. But MI3 is like so deeply entrenched in Bush era catch-the-terrorists stuff, though somewhat offset by having Philip Seymour Hoffman as the main villain instead of like Al-Qaeda (although the main anxiety has still firmly shifted from a post-Soviet ‘Eastern Europe’ to a scary generalised terrorist ‘Middle East’). But again it feels so incredibly different in tone and fixation and motivation than the first film. 9/11 really did permanently break the brains of every USAmerican. Anyway I can’t wait to watch the next one

#movies #mission impossible

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fluentmoviequoter · 1 day ago

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Find Your Own Happiness

Requested Here!

Pairing: (initial) Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After a falling out with your family, you move to LA and meet Tim Bradford. When he breaks your heart to give his to someone else, you're left completely alone.

Warnings: angst! a tiny bit of fluff, r has a sister, familial reconciliation, only half of a happy ending

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Seven Months Ago

“You’re not listening to me,” you exclaim, failing to keep your voice level. “I’m just asking you to hear me out on why I think this is the right thing to do.”

“Your feelings don’t matter in this,” your mother snaps. “They are dangerous in police work, and if you can’t understand that, you’re more…”

“More what?” you challenge. “Different? Weaker? A failure? All because I want to move to LA and be an LAPD officer.”

“There’s more to it than that,” your dad says.

“There really isn’t.”

You look to your sister and cousins for help, but they sit silently at the table. No one will stand up for you, so you’ll have to give up and accept what your family thinks and wants, or you’ll have to do something for yourself this time.

“I understand wanting me to follow in Dad and Grandpa’s footsteps,” you begin, quieter and softer. “But aren’t I doing that by becoming a police officer? Why does it matter where I police as long as I do?”

“Because our family is here,” your father barks. “The people I, my father, and dozens of other family members have locked away, the victims we’ve helped through over a century are all right here. Running to Los Angeles guarantees that you’ll disappear in the sea of blue patrol cops. You’ll be meaningless there, but you can make a difference here.”

Your jaw drops as pressure builds in your eyes. “You think I’m meaningless? Following my dreams and what I think is the right thing to do makes me meaningless and I’ll disappear into the back of some LAPD directory, that’s what you’re telling me?”

“We’re only trying to do what’s best for you,” someone interjects.

“No!” you yell, turning to see everyone around you. “You’re trying to talk me out of something so that you can brag about me, control me, and make an even bigger name for yourselves! And-“ You pause to laugh, partly because you’re finally seeing your parents' true reason for supporting you for so long and partly to keep yourself from crying. “I’m glad to be the one to tell you this. A police station like the one you want me to waste away in? That is meaningless. This station isn’t big enough to make a real difference in the big picture. Los Angeles? There’s potential there. So, if you don’t want to support me unless you can control me, don’t bother calling.”

As you storm out of your parents’ house with only a day until your first day at the LAPD, you sigh and let the tears you held in roll over your cheeks. Walking to your car, you decide that if the people inside, the people who are supposed to love you no matter what, don’t care, then you don’t either. No one comes out after you, texts to check if you get home safe, and they certainly don’t tell you goodbye before you board the one-way flight to LAX.

Present Day

“If player two – that’s you - was in a TV show, what would it be?” Tim reads. He drops the card and looks at you before he asks, “What is this game?”

You shrug and write your answer on the board. “Lucy said it was fun.”

“Lucy thinks filming documentaries is fun, we can’t trust her judgement. I love you, but this game is stupid.”

You blink at him, then say, “We have to finish this round. What happened to Tim ‘finish what I start and break their spirits’ Bradford?”

“He’s tired of… whatever stupid name this game has.”

Laughing, you watch him write an answer on his miniature whiteboard. When the timer ends, you show your boards to one another.

“Blue Bloods?” you read incredulously.

“Game of Thrones?” he counters in a matching tone.

“I can fight,” you explain as if it’s obvious. “And even if I couldn’t, Oberyn Martell would teach me.”

“You have a boyfriend. I’m sitting right here.”

“A boyfriend who doesn’t wear golden robes, and who thinks I’d be in Blue Bloods.”

“You’re from a family of cops!” he exclaims. “It makes total sense!”

You try to hide how your smile drops at the mention of your family, and it seems to work because Tim checks his chiming phone rather than asking what happened. It’s been over half a year since you last spoke to your family. Close to a year since any of them told you they loved you. You know it’s over at least until you can think of a way to start a conversation without falling into the same argument as before. If you could make an arrest worthy of getting your name in the LA Times, maybe you would have something to show them you were right.

“Is everything okay?” you ask Tim.

He shakes his head, typing quickly. “That UC op I mentioned – with the guy who looks like me? Something came up.”

“Need any help?”

Tim stands, slides his phone in his pocket, and bends at the waist to kiss your forehead. “I have to go to the station and wait for Jake’s phone to ring again. I’ll keep you updated, okay?”

“Okay,” you answer, tipping your head up for a real kiss.

Tim pecks your lips, apologizes, and whispers, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you echo before the door closes behind Tim.

Looking around your empty apartment, you wonder why people who say they love you tend to leave before you’re ready for them to.

Five hours after Tim left, you get a text. Your heart drops at the noise because 2 a.m. messages and being a cop do not go well together. Reaching for your phone, you silently wish that everything and everyone is okay.

Tim Bradford Lucy and I are going somewhere with Dim’s crew. Angela has the info. See you when we get back.

You know better than to reply, so you type Be safe. I love you and return the phone to its charger. Tim would have told you where they were going if he knew, so you roll over and try to sleep, even though you don’t know where your boyfriend is or what brought you to this moment.

Angela texts you when she leaves Las Vegas. Tim will have more to do, so you don’t expect to see him until tomorrow. Besides, it’s late, and Tim most likely hasn’t slept in the past two days. You open your text thread from him and see the unsent text, then decide to leave it. You can tell him everything in person tomorrow.

It’s after dark, but you’re not sure exactly what time it is when Tim knocks on your front door. He still has greasy gel in his hair and fake tattoos lining his skin. You smile when you see him, but he walks in with no readable expression, and his hands curled into tight fists.

“Are you okay?” you ask softly, as you close the door. “Did everything go well?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine and we got the guys,” Tim mumbles. “I- I don’t know how to say this.”

“You can tell me anything, Tim.”

“Lucy broke up with Chris right before we left,” he says. You’re unsure how that’s relevant, but maybe there’s a point to be made. “When we got back, I took her home to drop her off.”

You nod, and Tim runs his fingers through his hair.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” you whisper.

“I realized something in Vegas.”

An uncomfortable yet familiar pressure nudges against your eyes. Everyone who says they love you decides you are meaningless.

“And you’re leaving,” you finish for him, dropping your gaze to the floor. “For Lucy.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Tim defends, stepping toward you.

“But it did.” You shrug and add, “You can go.”

“I’m–”

“It doesn’t matter. Just go, Tim.”

Tim nods once before he opens the door. With one hand on the door, he says, “Goodnight.”

And then he’s gone. You press your hand over your mouth as the first tears break over your waterline. Stumbling back, you let yourself collide with the wall before you slide down it. With your knees pulled toward your chest, you drop your head and cry for Tim, for your family, for yourself, and for all of the things that you have lost. It seems impossible to keep the things and the people you care about close, and the last seven months have led you to this point too many times.

You wipe your face harshly and stand. “Not anymore,” you decide aloud. Gathering your things, you know you need a break. There’s a diner on the corner that reminds you of home, and you walk toward it as you replay every moment of your relationship with Tim. Every mention of Lucy, every moment he was distracted or seemed to enjoy double dates with her and Chris, and all the little things that should have alerted you to the fact that there was something wrong pop into your mind.

In the diner, you place your phone on the table with the keypad shining bright. You type in a number you remember even after seven months of not dialing it and press the green button.

Miles away, a cell phone beside an open case file rings, and your father answers it without reading the caller ID. He says his last name and waits for the person on the other end to speak.

“Hello, sir,” the man says. “I’m calling about your daughter.”

Your dad sits up straighter, his breath catching at the idea of anything bad happening to you. He’s dreaded this phone call since you decided to follow in his path and become a police officer. He should have kept you close, he thinks, so that he could help keep you safe.

“She’s okay,” the man adds quickly. “Physically, at least. I’m not in the position to tell you the details, but she may need someone to support her.”

“I…”

“I know the basics, I understand it has been a while since you last spoke to her, but if my daughter were dealing with this, I’d want to know.”

“I appreciate the call. I’m sorry, what did you say your name was?”

“Wade. Sergeant Wade Grey.”

The dial tone trills once before you end the call. You planned to call your sister, but the thought of telling her that you’re heartbroken is practically admitting that your parents were right and you should have stayed home. You feel lost, and though this diner once felt like home, you need a real escape. Glancing at your phone, you sigh when you see the time. Your shift starts in six hours, so you need to go home and get some sleep. Tomorrow night, you’ll get as far from the memories of Tim and the meaningless police work you’ve grown to love.

The air is clear tonight, and you trace a random shape in the dirt beneath you as you watch the lights of Los Angeles beneath you. It’s quiet, and you wonder why you never visited the Hollywood Hills before. Tim wasn’t one for romantic outings – though he probably would for Lucy, you think suddenly – and after your first day at Mid-Wilshire, you didn’t have much time to explore on your own. So, now that you’ve had your heart broken and are completely alone, you find a pretty place and breathe.

You’re not alone, you remember. Grey heard what Tim did and helped you have a good day at work despite that. Plus, he put you on patrol far away from Tim. Grey has become like a father figure to you in Los Angeles, but you find yourself missing your blood family more often than before.

Gravel crunches behind you, and you shift so you can reach your off-duty weapon. The headlights turn off just before the driver’s door opens, and your eyes widen when your father steps out.

“Dad!” you exclaim, scrambling to your feet and rushing to hug him.

He wraps you in a warm hug, murmuring apologies as he cradles your head against his chest. He held you like this often when you were young, but you find that it’s more comforting and needed now.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” your mother says, approaching from the passenger side and joining the hug.

“I’m the most sorry,” your sister announces, smiling as she brushes your hair from your face. “I should have stood up for you. I was looking out for myself, and it wasn’t right to let you take all of that. I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you,” you reply. “All of you, so much.”

“What happened?”

You pull your lip between your teeth and shake your head. “I started dating a cop. Stupid, I know. He was great, though, and I really loved him. Still do, even though he left me for his former rookie.”

“Scumbag,” your sister grumbles. Your mom taps her shoulder and sends her a scolding look, making you smile. You really missed your family.

“He wasn’t,” you reply. “I think he ignored his true feelings for so long because we were together. They went undercover together, and he couldn’t deny it anymore, not with it staring him in the face.”

“Don’t make excuses for people,” your dad reminds you. “If he couldn’t see and appreciate how amazing you are, he didn’t deserve you. Or your tears.”

You nod and wipe a tear, suddenly remembering you never told them where you were. “How’d you find me?”

“Sergeant Grey called me last night. And he gave me a few ideas about where you may be.”

“He tracked me,” you correct with a laugh. “He’s great.”

“He really is,” your mom agrees. “I can see why you picked his station.”

“So, Tim?” your sister prods.

“Grey is keeping us separated at work for now, which I understand. I just… It was a shock. It felt like everything was falling apart. I can’t lose anyone else.”

You’re wrapped in another hug as your family reminds you, “You didn’t lose us.”

As you drive back to your house with your sister in the passenger seat and your parents behind you, you feel like the hole in your heart is being bridged. Your phone chimes with an incoming message, and your sister is happy to read your messages for you.

“It’s a group chat with Wade Grey, Angela Lopez, Nyla Harper, and Aaron Thorsen. Aaron said, ‘I was team Chenford when I got here, but now’ and Nyla tagged you in a message that says, ‘Come over if you want to talk.’ And I’m not sure I should read the ones from Angela and Wade.”

“Threatening?” you guess with a smile.

“Moderately. Wade sent you a direct one, though. ‘He looks happy. Don’t let that keep you from finding your own happiness in your own time.’ He sounds like Dad.”

“He acts like Dad.”

“Then maybe you should let him set you up.”

You laugh, and when you drive by Tim’s house on your way home, you feel a tug on your heart that won’t go away anytime soon. Though you will have trouble looking at Tim and Lucy in the weeks to come, you got your family back, and maybe your relationship with Tim and the consequent broken heart was worth that.

"You didn't send the last message to Tim," you sister says.

"It wouldn't have changed anything."

"Maybe not. You can change something. Like Wade said, find your own happiness."

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford fic #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford #wade grey #tim bradford angst #fem!reader #requests #hanna writes✯#the rookie abc

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mummyscarian · 2 days ago

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Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Connects to the Life Series

Alternatively, Mumbo Stole Grian's Soul, and How it Saved Everyone.

When Mumbo stole Grian's soul, he really stole it. Like he actually, genuinely stole it---the whole thing. All of it became his. Or, well, not his, exactly---it was still Grian's soul, but it was just in Mumbo's body, yeah?

Mumbo stole it to become human---it was a whole thing, really, he kept turning into a potato, and a golden carrot, and then a pig---oh, it was horrible! And he just needed to be human again. So, of course, the next logical decision was to steal his best friend's soul. Of course.

Grian wasn't exactly thrilled at first---well, he thought it was a joke at first. Mumbo insisted it wasn't, but, well, you can't actually steal someone's soul, can you? Grian went along with the joke, but he didn't feel any different, didn't feel empty or however one was supposed to feel when your soul was missing. Maybe Mumbo meant it metaphorically anyway. Regardless, the moon was big, and they were Watching.

Last Life. A new rendition of the death games the Watchers loved to put him through. And Mumbo was there. Why was Mumbo there? No matter---their minds were not their own, and the Boogeymen were coming. There was no time to think, only to survive. Watching Eyes, Listening Ears, there was never a real escape.

Mumbo died by Grian's own hands, and something felt weird about the world. He could feel it in the air---did everything become just a little more clear? When he looked up, why could he see them Watching? As the Finale neared, he could Remember. This was a death game. He was only meant to Watch---but he chose to Play.

When he died, he Watched. When Scott stood on that tree, and the Watchers started to reach---Grian defied them.

/kill Smajor1995.

He was not supposed to be able to defy Them. He always tried, of course, because who was he if not Grian, the prankster? But, regardless, he could not have defied them in their own world, where they were in control. To send a command like that, to destroy the sanctity of their game?

...Did he have that ability the whole time? The power to---No. He didn't. In 3rd Life, he was powerless. What made Last Life any different? The Watchers kept a grip on him as tight as the other Players, molding his mind into whatever they wanted, making him do horrible things to his friends.

Grian never knew what made it different. The moon was big.

Then it was Season Nine.

Mumbo---well, Last Life wasn't exactly pleasant. His mind hadn't been the greatest lately---not strictly because of Last Life, mind you. He was going through a bit of a slump. Everything had calmed down, after the moon and Last Life, and people were moving on, but he still felt uneasy, and lost, and burnt out. He... needed a break. A vacation.

So, with great hesitancy, and lots of doubt, he took one---went to see what else was out in the world. Hiked, biked, and saw all sorts of beautiful sights. And it... helped, truly, it did. It cleared his mind. He felt...

...human?

Without Mumbo, Grian felt like his soul was missing. Which was weird to say, he knew, because Mumbo had "stolen" his soul, but he just meant it metaphorically, alright? Grian without Mumbo---what was he?

He brought Grumbot back, but it still didn't feel the same. He missed his friend. And he knew it was good for Mumbo, but he still couldn't help but miss him the normal amounts (okay, maybe not the normal amounts, but that was beside the point, alright?).

He still couldn't help but wonder why Last Life ended the way it did, and why the Watchers were so silent. Grian tried to find out if he was somehow stronger, despite revoking his powers before---the Rift. Was it Grumbot, or was it him? He wasn't sure.

Then Double Life happened. And there was no Mumbo.

Things felt weird. Well, things felt normal, but slightly to the left, for a death game. Grian was distinctly aware it was a death game. They all knew it was, but there was always that fog that kept them from truly questioning, from truly fighting it. Complacent. Single-minded. Dependent. ...Violent. Aggressive. Unforgiving. Bloodthirsty.

He could still feel it, but he felt too aware of it. He could Watch the Watchers Watching them.

Double Life---it was short. Grian tried to push against the code keeping them all trapped, but, being bound to Scar---well, maybe Grian got too focused on trying to keep his soulbound (soul?) alive and, by proxy, himself as well.

Watching the Watchers Watch Pearl and Scott---They had more precautions this time, keeping Grian under Watch too. They were... wary. Cautious. Which meant they didn't know how Grian had slipped out from their grasp either.

Hope bloomed for the first time in a long time. A way to fight back, a way to save his friends from the death games---but how? Why? What happened, what was different---

Souls.

The Watchers controlled your soul. They changed its code to change you. Grian knew this very well. They had done this to his own soul many, many times. To his friends' souls.

Mumbo had stolen Grian's soul.

...He had literally stolen Grian's soul.

Grian could have laughed---he did laugh. That bastard. That loveable bastard! And he didn't even realize what he had done!

If Mumbo had Grian's soul, the Watchers couldn't bend him and break him. Grian... was free.

Well. Not entirely. Maybe Grian's soul was free, hidden where the Watchers couldn't find it (because who stole somebody's soul, seriously?). But his friends'...? They weren't. And as long as the Watchers had them... He wouldn't be free either. They used them like pawns to keep him trapped, all as punishment for daring to deny their divine gifts.

...But now he had a trick up his sleeve. A piece of the platform to stand on.

Going AFK during Limited Life was risky, but he trusted his Bad Boys' to protect him. Protect his body. (And Mumbo, unknowingly, or well, a little knowingly now, as of course Grian had told him when he returned from his vacation, protected his soul.) While his... not his mind, exactly, but another part of himself, confronted the Watchers.

This season was prime to be a bloodbath, but it would be the last of its kind, he swore to them. He demanded of them. It was a relentless argument on both sides---Grian wanted his friends to be safe and they threatened to harm them, while Grian withheld what they wanted most. Him.

The Watchers were a possessive bunch, and Grian---Xelqua---was theirs. They wanted him back, they wanted their Watcher back, he was one of Them, and they could not accept that he had dared to leave them. Could not fathom why he would.

There was a compromise---unwilling on both sides.

And so Secret Life was born.

Mumbo was there, and Grian was too scared to get too close to him, for fear that the Watchers would Look a little too close and See. He couldn't choose which players were dragged into these games, and the Watchers had their favorite victims (thankfully, Mumbo wasn't one of them, it seemed, even if he was the coal miner to the canary).

It was a fight for control, the Watchers unwilling to give it up, and Grian forcing himself onto the scene. Tasks, carefully crafted to be both frustrating and fun for His players (and sometimes just violent enough to satisfy their Hunger). Ups and downs, gives and takes. Tasks submitted by Watchers themselves---but the Boogeyman curse was all his own. See? He could make it entertaining, too. He understood what they wanted, and would give it to them, but only if they played by his rules.

Demise was a threat.

Interfere with their beloved "life" games, and They would take all of HermitCraft and force them into the games. Force them into worse. Take them, and control them, forever (just like Evo).

Real Life was a test.

It felt like loosing, to Grian. And, well, he did loose, actually. Out first, in his own game? Ridiculous. But... He felt like he lost everything he had worked so hard to create. Or, well, no, he felt like all that time spent running, and hiding, and creating a new him, trying to get himself away from the Watchers---it was for nothing. He... was submitting to them.

Of course, he knew it wasn't exactly that. He was still a Player, still him, and this was the only way to keep his friends safe. To convince the Watchers that he could run the games himself. To convince them that he was still a Watcher (it burned. It burned. He didn't want to be).

Running Real Life was difficult---he hadn't used his Watcher powers like this in... well, ever, really, to create a whole reality? He'd never gone that far. It was short lived, and, strangely, very nauseous.

But, somehow, it got the point through. He passed the test.

Wild Life was all his own. Weeks---months---spent carefully crafting a fun game for his friends, as though to apologize for everything he'd inadvertently subjected them to. He got to choose the players, and, to his surprise, they all wanted to come---even...

Even Mumbo.

Grian almost didn't want to invite him. But wouldn't that be suspicious, inviting them all but him? For them all to join but him? Mumbo would understand---but, in the end, he joined.

And he teamed with Grian. And it felt... so right. So perfect. Somehow, the death game didn't even feel like a death game. Him, Skizz, and Mumbo---the Sub-one Club! Or, well, the Floaters---or, actually, the Spanners! Yes, the Spanners! Grian almost felt at home. Being in control, the others knowing what He was and accepting him, creating a fun game for his friends. This was---well, it was just perfect! And he loved it! He loved it! It's what he had always wanted, back when 3rd Life was supposed to be his, and now, he had it! Everything he wanted!

And then

Mumbo

died

first.

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hellishjoel · 1 day ago

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once strangers

929 words / pairing: javier peña x f!reader

← masterlist | notifications blog | seasons of life challenge masterlist

word: scarf

warnings/information: fluff, meet-cute

a/n: @iknowisoundcrazy inboxed me a super adorable meet-cute a few months back, and I haven't stopped thinking about it! I tweaked it a little with the setting because I also wanted to send some new year's love to @jolapeno and pay homage to her masterpiece, late night texts! I love you both! - my banners are by @saradika-graphics. shoutout to @berryispunk and @lady-bess for putting this together on @fanfictionoverload!

Moving to the city felt like an appropriate change.

Your life before was stagnant. Same friends and hobbies, no new boyfriend, same old job. And in many ways, moving to the city did give you a lot of new opportunities. You were fresh-faced in a new career path, meeting cool people through work and social outings, and you picked up different ways to keep your hands busy while watching TV and stuffing your face with Chinese takeout.

One constant in your routine has always been taking a moment to step outside for fresh air during the workday. Even in the most corporate of settings, staying cooped up indoors all day is never an option.

Perched on your favorite park bench, you sip a coffee and stare menacingly down at the daily crossword in the paper. You wiggle your pen back and forth between your middle and index finger, glaring at the puzzle as if it offended you.

“Norma blank. Three letters across,” you mutter to yourself. Norma Jean? Isn’t that a Michael Jackson song? No, that’s Billie Jean. You bite down on the top of your pen and let out a slow sigh.

“Rae,” a low, raspy voice mutters beside you. The stranger meets your eyeline and tips his chin towards your crossword. “Norma Rae. It’s a movie before your time. Sally Fields plays a factory worker who becomes involved in a trade union at the factory she works at. It’s good.”

Your crossword lies forgotten on your lap as your attention drifts to the striking man nearby. His black leather jacket shields him from the city’s biting wind, while aviators with yellow-tinted lenses add a touch of intrigue. A ’70s-style mustache frames his face, perfectly complementing his jet-black hair. Handsome, older, and effortlessly confident, he doesn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation, teasing you about your glaring gaps in film trivia.

“Thanks,” you whisper, back in concentration mode as your pen fills in the missing letters r-a-e.

It’s a rare thing, sharing the same bench with a stranger in this city, but somehow, there he is beside you, his presence an unexpected disruption to the quiet rhythm of your break.

A quiet tension lingers between the two ends of the park bench. Part of you hesitates, worried that breaking the silence might make you seem unhinged. Yet another part of you silently wills him to speak first, hoping he'll bridge the gap.

You both sip your coffees in unison before you’re back at it.

Frodo’s burden, ring. Bird food, seed.

The grip on your pen falters as you encounter another impasse.

Your work break is meant to be a sacred reprieve, but instead, you're faced with a fiendishly challenging crossword that has every mental gear turning at full speed.

“Pen.” The stranger notes. He’s already glancing at you and your half-filled crossword puzzle once again. His shades are off this time, revealing eyes as dark and intoxicating as aged whiskey—both dangerous in excess.

“I’m sorry?”

“Pen. Bold choice, you must be pretty confident,” He remarks, sliding closer to you on the bench, his voice warm and teasing. He extends his hand, and for a moment, you hesitate, unsure if he’s expecting a handshake or the crossword. Then his smirk deepens, his palm steady and waiting. Without a word, you place the pen in his hand, feeling the brush of his fingers against yours.

“Dryer accumulation, lint. Old hag, witch.” His handwriting is vastly different from yours. He sketches in the letters with messy dashes and capital letters that make your dainty lowercases look sweet and delicate. “Hawaiian volcano, Mauna blank… Mauna Kea.”

“Loa,” you intercept the pen before he can fill in the empty squares incorrectly. The stranger connects the dots and nods slowly with a stolen smile. “It’s Loa because 38 down is… Lotus for Sacred flower.”

You find yourselves inching closer as you focus on filling in the missing letters. His hand is still holding the ghost of your pen and what was once a casual gesture shifts into a firm handshake, his grip confident, his eyes roaming over you without a hint of hesitation. There's an undeniable weight to his gaze, one that holds no shame.

“Javier. Six letters across, phone number’s ten down,” he murmurs, his voice low and assured. Before you can respond, he takes the pen from your grasp, casually scrawling his name in elegant cursive over the top of your crossword. As he writes, the phone number stretches down the page. Javi. Just like that, he’s left his mark.

“As fun and embarrassing as this was, I should get back to work,” you say, the heat rising from your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears. Wow, was he smooth.

With your nerves in a jumble, you scramble to pack up your belongings, already bracing yourself to scream about the cute stranger you met when you meet up with your girlfriends later tonight.

Javi is quick to his feet, something familiar outstretched in his hand. “Woah, hold on, hermosa,” his deep, commanding baritone washed over you as the compliment slipped effortlessly from his lips. “Your scarf.”

You could not be more uncouth if you tried.

“Thanks,” you say with shy smile, your fingers weaving around the fabric, but he doesn’t let go.

“You’ll call me?”

He steals a small laugh from you, the wind sending a shiver up your spine. “I think I have to,” you say. “There’s a new crossword every day with nuanced references.”

“So, same time and place tomorrow? Let me buy your coffee.”

Y-e-s.

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dollyichi · 1 day ago

Text

MAD PUP

kaminari denki x f ! reader ᯓ★ 2.7k words. m—dni. established relationship / both are pro-heroes / m-rec. oral / mentions of injury / c^m in pant!es / not proofread

an entry to my “ milk and cookies “ event with the prompt #6 “no don’t take it off, i want it just like this.” requested by an anon!

your boyfriend’s sulky and playing hard to get because of a little misunderstanding. that’s fine, you always know how to get your way in the end.

“denki… please don’t ignore me!” you’re on your knees beside him on the couch, tugging on his sleeves. “are you mad at me?” as if he could resist those doe eyes—but right now, he has to.

you got home late today because you passed out during a mission and was only brought home when you were given the clear after waking up. he wasn’t mad about that—he was more relieved you were alright. but since you’re finally home, he was mainly mad with the ‘fact’ that you left him early in the morning without even telling him where you’re headed off to. shutting the front door so quickly, him trying to run down the stairs to catch up to wish you good luck, then you’re suddenly gone the whole day—not even leaving a note, no texts, no calls—just pure silence.

very out of character compared to the you that he knows—sweet, loving, actually giving him actual attention? (maybe a bit of an overreaction.)

you’ve been dating for three years and you’ve never done that, not once, neither did he. besides, he can’t recall anything that could’ve gotten you upset at him.

then there goes the overthinking: are you cheating? are you sick of him? not even a little kiss before you go?

if you can’t even say a simple ‘goodbye,’ then he shouldn’t have to greet you with a ‘welcome home.’

when the bells start to chime and you’re going inside the house, your lover isn’t there looking at you like an excited puppy. it makes you raise a brow but it wasn’t that much of a bother. you figured he was probably asleep and resting.

you use this time to take a shower, hoping to spend time with him after—this had his eye twitching from how calm you’re being as he watched from behind the wall that connects to the hallway. “didn’t even bother to find me.” he mutters with a whimper.

the best attack is showing you that he is definitely ignoring you. and thus, when you finish your shower and you catch him in the living room, you get on the couch to hug him immediately. “denki! i really missed you so much today!” yet he doesn’t move, doesn’t look, doesn’t even talk, and refuses to let you cuddle up to him.

confused and oblivious, you place a hand on the side of his neck, “you got no fever though.” he shakes your hand away, “huh? you got hit with a quirk or something?” you say with puffed cheeks.

he’s leaning on the edge of the couch, turning his body slightly to the side, glaring away. somewhat amused with how you’re deliberately trying to get him to look.

‘that’ll give you the taste of your own medicine!’ he reassures himself, but it’s so. damn. hard.

you’re so pretty right now—as always—but especially, now.

you don’t usually have to beg him for anything, you hardly do. you rarely ever fight and it was always easy to make up when you argue. today was just the worst of it. and he wanted a little bit of revenge for feeling left out of your day but he feels like he’s being beaten to a pulp in this silent battle he’s made.

you’re batting your eyelashes, pressing your thighs together. ass so plump against the tiny shorts you always liked to wear at home. hair a little bit damp, probably rushed drying it, towel around your neck, tight shirt. listing all these little details in his head since now was the only time he got to see you properly for today—this was torture for him too you know!

the cherry on top was definitely the lip balm that’s on your lips that you use before going to bed. he’s internally groaning because he always kisses you when you get home—no! you deserve at least this much.

‘ahhh! don’t get hard. don’t get hard. you’re supposed to teach her a lesson!’ he’s doing his best to distract himself and not let the blood flow directly get down to his pants.

you’re so confused why he wouldn’t even look at you. maybe he’s lost it? or was the injury he got yesterday getting to him?

“tch. you don’t wanna look at me, huh, denki?” ‘you’re so cute.’ “then i’ll make you look dummy.” ‘god, you’re really fucking cute.’

the next movements you make has him frozen in his seat, for real this time. watching you move down to the carpet in front of him and tugging his sweatpants down alongside his boxers. already kissing the tip of his dick’s that slightly hard, hands dragging on his body, resting on the back of his thighs, then sensually rubbing up and down.

you suck on it experimentally, and he almost chokes on his own spit. you’re so naughty and dirty, immediately targeting his most sensitive part at the get go.

he never expected you to fight back this hard. he rarely even lets you suck him off cause he knows he’s going to cum just from seeing you take him in your mouth. almost forgetting that ‘lesson’ he wants to teach you.

so he doesn’t look. he doesn’t look but he’s already shaking. gripping onto wherever he could while you’re licking him. doing his best not to buck his hips, letting you have your way but he refuses to let you win… at least not this fast.

maybe a little peek wouldn’t hurt- no he can feel your eyes on him.

and he’s not wrong. you’re making sure your pretty eyes are on him at all times while you’re jerking him off with your hand. using your tongue to lick along his head that’s twitching every time he feels it flick. he’s breathing hard so hard, chest heaving, face contorting—he’s definitely feeling it.

his breath hitched suddenly. feeling your lips sucking around him so softly. he exhaled slowly from the warm, moist feel of your tongue. he’s getting stiffer and harder each second.

if you keep teasing him like this he’d give in. you chuckle against him, which gets him to finally look, a little shocked from the vibrations. as stubborn as he is, he’s still not saying anything, still refusing to touch you—what’s wrong with him?

you take him in deeper. wrapping your hand around the shaft of his cock while your lips inched further. letting his dick slide against your tongue. you’re doing your best to see his every reaction was you looked up through your eyelashes. when your eyes meet he’s already averting his gaze—he’d cum immediately.

it’s crazy how the shine of your balm is mixed with his pre, coating your lips prettily while it’s wrapped around him. bobbing your head up and down so, so slow. he’s already melting. mouth slightly parted while his eyes narrowed down on you.

his fingers are twitching wanting to touch you but he’s still so stubborn. you pull away, continuing to kiss him all over. taking your hand to spread his legs even further that’s getting him embarrassed.

he’s got that face, when you’re trying hard not to be mad but it’s not working in the slightest—you already know you got him.

‘a bit more.’ you think to yourself.

“f-fuck i’m gonna cum.” he says in a whisper, unfortunately you didn’t hear it properly.

denki knows it’s a crime to not be able to fuck you or touch you but he wants to keep up his ‘pride.’ even though it’s definitely tempting while you stared at him all wide-eyed with a guileless expression.

eventually he takes your hands, intertwining them with his as he rests them on top of his thighs.

0 - denki 1 - you

if he wasn’t so cute right now you would’ve stopped right there, when he’s so close and you suddenly deny him of it—but there was a possibility of you being in the wrong.

no matter, this is your win, he at least admits that whole heartedly. he promises to himself that he’ll never challenge you again (as if you knew that.)

“mmph~ baby i wanna cum with your pussy…” he manages to croak out. pushing the strands of hair away from your face.

he’s so close he knows if you go even faster he’s going to burst. you let him go with a pop, licking your lips. you’re smiling to yourself, ‘maybe this strategy isn’t too bad actually.’

his lips quiver as he looked at you.

suddenly, he’s pulling you up from under your arms, seating you on in his lap. “you ignored me today baby.”

“i’m sorry i did my best to get home as quick as possible.” you huff.

“then why didn’t you at least kiss me goodbye?”

you tilt your head, “because you might wake up. and i didn’t want you to get too startled in the morning. you’re still recovering you know?”

“then why didn’t you at least leave a note?”

“i did!” you pout, “i even saw it on the floor when i got here.” he did accidentally hit the fridge while he tried to ‘run’ (wobble) towards you. that explains why didn’t couldn’t see it.

you did say you worked your best today especially with the unusual high rates of villains suddenly showing up in the area.

he lets out an exasperated sigh, you stay quiet for a bit.

“you’re not mad at me?”

“so you’re not mad at me?”

you both say at the same time. you both stop to look at each other, finally taking a proper look. it was obvious from the glimmer of both your eyes that you missed each other, especially from the scare you both got yesterday when he got hit.

“i was hoping to get a kiss on my head you know… it might heal me even faster!”

“you got tons just now though?”

he snorts, “pfft! well not exactly that… but i’m not complaining.”

he pulls you closer, but you make sure not to bump his head. “you still wanna cum?” he nods.

you take your shorts off with a swift motion. you bow your head towards his cock, letting spit trickle down to his head and he’s whimpering at the sight, spreading it on his shaft with each pump of your hand. he’s watching you with an excited grin from your shoulders.

you tilt your head to face him with half-lidded eyes and your hand tight around him, flicking up and down, a trail of spit is still hanging from your lips, visibly connecting a the tip of his cock on your mouth—exactly how it was a few minutes ago.

his hand wrapped around yours that’s pumping him, slowing you down. “h-hahh baby~ just go steady this way.” he’s suddenly so close again before he stopped you.

“n-not fair, at least let me play with your pussy…” he’s so cute. aside from the bandage on his head that has you frowning, the visible tears forming at the corners of his eyes and his cute little pout has you relieved. he’s finally acting like his indulgent self.

his other hand’s trying to tug on your shorts. eventually pushing down the fabric finally exposing your clothed cunt. cooing at the sight of the very visible damp spot at the center of it all. “nice panties baby, real cute.” he chuckles. it’s as he describes it, cute. a pikachu tail patterned pair that matches him, isn’t that convenient.

“d-don’t tease me! you got this for me after all…” you say, already raising your hips to take it off but he stops you. “no don’t take it off, i want it just like this.” he whines, wasting no time to slip them to the side just enough to get him to slide his cock along your slit.

gently pressing the tip against your hole, he ran it back to the front, rubbed it against your clit. it’s just rubbing against you however already making so much noise. you didn’t think you were so turned on from your boyfriend who’s spoiled you rotten suddenly so cold, stubborn, and playing hard to get.

“i love you… denki…” your clit’s so swollen and sensitive from the friction as you grind on each other. “but i-i d-don’t want you to do too much right now though…” you tell him.

“i love you more. so don’t underestimate me baby. just a little hit on the head wont stop me from making you feel good.”

‘as if it was actually little,’ you think to yourself.

he slowly moves your underwear downward, not removing it entirely. letting him slip both his hand and cock from underneath.

he places his tip against your clit, as if he’s kissing it himself. you cried, not caring about the unintelligible sounds coming out of your mouth. feeling his middle and ring finger enter into your pussy from behind, giving you the extra sensation. it’s crazy, feeling so much from the front and inside.

with a shaky hand you reach down to cup his cock. pressing a little harder to help him get there faster. most of your senses were muffled, like grain and static—all hazy.

his fingers constantly pump into you, your walls taking them so deeply he barely even pulled them out. it sent shockwaves through you every time his tip circled your puffy bundle of nerves.

your legs start to tremble from how good he’s making you feel. nothing but choking sobs and his name in broken whimpers left your lips. your walls slightly trembling around his finger made him know you were getting close. he peppers the side of your mouth with kisses easing you into your own peak.

getting dizzy from the sounds of the lewd squelching of your sexes and the way yours and his hand get sloppier by the second. that little knot in your stomach getting tighter with every motion.

before you know it your entire body twitches in time with your intense climax hitting you so suddenly. still, denki’s fingers doesn’t still inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm on his fingers while your walls constantly spasm around them.

fingers curled deep inside you while he continued to jerk himself with his other hand, tip hitting your sensitive clit that has you hissing from the slightest touch.

his breathing was labored, sticking out his tongue against your neck while trying to reach his own high. he’s so sexy when he desperately wants to cum.

you pull his fingers out, while your other hand fixed your panties, letting it hit against his tip that’s leaking so much, wetting the spot even more. “h-hah… so close baby… so close… gonna cum in your panties- mmhh~ gonna make a m-mess just like you.”

he inhaled through his teeth, repeating your name in a chant-like way, making choked sounds as he reached his climax. feeling every shot of his load onto your inner thighs, feeling every drop of warmth to drip down and pool at the bottom of your underwear. you tremble when feel it trickle down against your cunt.

denki places gentle, moist kisses on your shoulder, finally both calming down from your high from how intense session you both had. your bodies to gradually sink deeper against each other and on the couch.

it was all loving and tender till you see your boyfriend make that face of his when he overdoes it. “stupid! look what happened.”

you immediately stand up to get an ice pack to cool him down, however the post-clarity hits you and the uncomfortable feeling of your juices and his sick collected in your cotton panties was not the best sensation.

it’s as if denki’s vision focuses immediately on your inner thighs, seeing the fluids flow down. it gets him to almost sit up slightly with his cock getting hard again—almost gaining complete and proper consciousness out of sheer arousal alone.

with the towel on your neck you try to wipe it off. you can hear him whine under his breath, not liking what you’re doing at all.

“holy shit… something really hurt your brain this time!”

“one m-more time?” he asks weakly.

you profusely shake your head, crossing your arms. “shut up!”

you take a mental note to be stricter this time. no more sex till he’s properly recovered, and to buy better refrigerator magnets.

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : HAPPY NEW YEAR! lmk what you think of this fic and ghe dynamic!! i am so bad at male rec i took everything i had in me (that i have right now) to think of this… i love denki so bad btw

#bnha smut #mha smut #denki smut #kaminari smut #denki kaminari smut #kaminari denki smut #kaminari x reader #denki x reader #kaminari denki x reader #denki kaminari x reader #my hero academia smut #ᦾִ⁠❤︎ by cola #milk&cookies

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littledreamer9211 · 1 day ago

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The bet. pt 2

A/N: Hi, it's me again. Happy New Year...have some more angst! This is part 2 so i'll add the link to part 1 just below. Just a quick thank you for all the love and support for part 1. I'm feeling the love and appreciate it all. As always, let me know what you think. This isn't the end. I'm thinking it'll be one more part but we'll see what my impulsive ass does.

CW: All the angst. Swearing. A protective best friend who i've given a name this time lol. Benny being adorable but also Benny - thats warning enough. a little bit anxiety and self-confidence issues. Old demons and bad habits coming back.

~~~~~

Frankie 'Catfish' Morales x f!reader.

Word count: 3753

~~~~~

Part 1

You don’t think you slept. It certainly doesn’t feel like you did but then the rest of the night was a bit of a blur so you couldn’t be sure. All you know for definite is that you’ve been lying on top of your side of the bed, staring out of the window long enough to have watched the sunrise through the open curtains.

___________

About an hour after you had locked the bedroom door last night Frankie had come to the door. When he realised the door was locked he gave a gentle knock and call of your name but the silence in return was enough to stop him from trying again. You were glad that he hadn’t pushed it anymore, you’re not sure what you would have done if he had insisted. A while later his deep timber voice could be heard talking on the phone. Guess it didn’t break when he threw it across the kitchen. He kept his voice low so you couldn’t make out what was being said but the tone was enough to let you know there was some crying going on.

___________

The sudden vibrations from your phone broke you out of your thoughts. The alarm letting you know it was time to get up and ready for work. Shit. You contemplated phoning in sick but then the life disasters of a classroom full of 6 year olds would probably be a welcome distraction from your own. As you got up you listened to see if you could hear him moving around but the house was silent. You had no idea if he was still here and it worried you a little that you didn’t care if he was or wasn’t. You even contemplated climbing out the window to get to your car just to avoid seeing him but then you shook your head - why should you be the one skulking about like you did something wrong? No thank you. Plus your keys were on the side table at the front door. After your shower you had tried to cover the bags under your eyes with some concealer but it was no use and at this point you didn’t actually care about how you looked. Thankfully all of your work bags were in the bedroom closet and you could grab a coffee on the road so there was no need to spend anymore time than necessary in the house.

Taking a deep breath to calm the sudden nerves, you opened the door and just about fell flat on your face. Something was laying on the floor that wasn’t usually there.

“What the fu-“

“Ah shit.” Frankie shot up into a sitting position, the cap that had been over his eyes falling to the floor beside him.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was a harsh whisper as you moved the straps of your bags back onto your shoulders and then stopped to take in the sight of him. He was now sitting against the wall opposite your bedroom door. Hair a mess from fingers running through it all night, clothes crumpled from sleeping in them and bags under his eyes that rivalled the size of yours.

“I-I ugh,” He cleared his throat, the morning rasp that you usually love now just awakening your heartbreak. “can’t sleep when you’re not near me.” He rubbed his hands over his thighs nervously as he took in your appearance. His eyes caught on the bags on your shoulders and a flash of panic crossed his features until he realised they were your school ones.

You shook your head in disbelief and let out a little scoff, “So glad one of us were able to get some sleep Frankie.” You turned on your heels and walked towards the front door as he scrambled to get to his feet in time.

“Thats not what I meant. Baby, please-“ He placed his hand on the front door to stop you from leaving.

“Move Frankie.” You couldn’t look him in the eye. Too scared of what you might see or say.

“Where are you going? Let’s talk about this.” He dipped to try and catch your eye, his hand moving to touch your arm but he let it fall quickly when you took a step back from him.

“I’m going to work.” You grabbed your keys from the side table and let out a sad sigh.

“Are you coming back?” His whispered plea for information bounced off of your walls that you could feel building back up and reinforcing themselves.

“I don’t know Frankie.” You forced yourself to look at him. “Please let me out.” The two of you standing there with tears pooling in your eyes. He hesitated for a moment and the slowly nodded his head whilst opening the door for you. You hadn’t planned to not come back. You hadn’t even thought about it. Just focusing on one step at a time and at the moment you just needed to leave.

“I love you.” He whispered in your ear as you passed by him. Your body froze for a second before you nodded your head in acknowledgment and slowly walked to your car. Frankie didn’t move. You could see him standing at the front door watching your car leave until you rounded the corner and couldn’t see him anymore.

_____________

“There she is! Thank y- shit babe, you look awful! What’s wrong? Whats happened?” Your best friend jumped up from her chair as you placed the coffee cup on her desk and gave her a shy shrug. She placed her hands on your shoulders and gently guided you to sit on the nearest desk, taking a seat beside you and removing your own coffee cup from your shaking hands. “I honestly don’t know where to start Annie.” You bags fell from your drooped shoulders and you let them crash the floor by your feet as you fiddled with your hands in your lap and tried your hardest not to cry in the middle of her classroom.

“Are you sick? Is Frankie sick? Is he safe? Did something happen at work?” Her voice rose with panic as her mind flooded with all kinds of scenarios. When you shook your head she clasped her hands over yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“Do you remember the night we met the boys?” She let out a huff of amusement at the memories of that night.

“We know I don’t remember every detail but I remember the important bits…well most of them.” You took a deep breath before telling her everything that happened last night.

“That motherfucker!” She was now pacing in front of you. Her hands flying in anger as she took in the story. “Annie!” you quietly scolded as you flashed your eyes over to the corridor to make sure there weren’t any little ears nearby.

“Babe I couldn’t give a fuck right now. I ought to march right over to that ass and give him a piece of my mind and then find his cronies and give them hell too!” You hadn’t even thought about the other boys and now that you were, it just made the situation hurt more. They all clearly knew and were part of it but not one of them told you. Yes it was Frankie’s responsibility as your husband but did they even try and talk him into telling you? “This’ll be why Will and Frankie have been texting me all morning.” Annie sat back down beside you with her now cold cup of coffee and handed you yours. “What do you mean? What have they been saying?” You watched as she took the lid off of her cup and took a sip whilst she seemed to cringe and the realisation of what she said.

“Well Will texts me all the time, especially when he’s back in town-“

“Annie.” You shot her a deadpanned look and she let out a dramatic sigh.

“They’ve both been asking me to keep an eye on you this morning but neither would go into details about why and I was just about to phone you when you text to say you were on your way in with coffee so I guessed you would tell me then.” She gave you an apologetic smile and you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “Tell them to mind their business.” Just then the school bell rang and Annie shot you a pained expression as she stood back up. “Are you sure you want to be here today? I could help find cover for you?” You stood to join her and she pulled you in for hug. You didn’t realise how much you needed it until you could feel yourself clinging on to her for dear life.

“I need the distraction.” She kissed your cheek as you pulled apart and gave your hand a final squeeze as the roar of children made their way to their classes. “Ok but if you change your mind let me know. I’ll bring lunch to your room.” You mouthed a ‘thank you’ to her over the heads of her class as you made your way quickly down the corridor to your own room.

By the end of the day you were completely and utterly exhausted both physically and mentally. Your phone had died just before lunch as you had forgot to charge last night but before it died you saw 27 texts light up your screen. Mostly from Frankie but there were a couple from Will, Benny and Annie too.

When Annie turned up in your room panicked with two bowls of the ‘good’ cake and custard from the dinner ladies, you quickly eased her mind when you explained that your phone was dead.

“That’s ok I was just going to start emailing you.” You let out a small laugh at her fake nonchalance.

She later sent a pupil along to your room with a charger and a note letting you know you were more than welcome to stay at hers tonight.

You decided not to charge your phone, instead enjoying the peace. You knew that if there was something important then someone could contact the school office to get you.

Annie finally managed to convince to leave with her and although you decided not to go to hers, you weren’t sure where you were going to go. But as fate would have it, someone else was making that decision for you.

You walked towards the carpark with Annie’s arm looped through yours as she babbled on about the drama in her class today when she suddenly stopped in her tracks and her body went completely stiff. Your head had been down watching the ground as you walked so you didn’t see the body leaning against your driver door.

“What the hell are you doing?” You lifted your head to try and see what or who had upset Annie so suddenly. Thats when you saw the tall blonde rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Annie moved so that her body became a physical barrier between you and Benny. “I just came to talk. I mean no harm.” He raised his hands in surrender as he stood to his full height but didn’t move out the way of your door.

“Don’t you think you’ve said enough Benny?” Both you and Benny winced at the brutal honesty of Annies words. It didn’t make you step in though. You were too tired for this and actually glad you had someone to fight this battle for you.

“Please, I wont take long. We just got worried when you didn’t reply to anyones texts.” Benny tried to get around Annie and look you in the eye but your head was down and your arms were wrapped around your body as another layer of protection as Annie started to verbally lay in to the man in front of her.

You had zoned out but caught the last of her rant “…fucking cruel.”. There was a slight blush on his face when you managed to look him in the face again. You decided you had better step in before a bigger scene was made. Parents and staff were already shooting glances in your direction and the last thing you needed was to be the gossip of the staff room and parent group chats.

“Annie it’s ok. I’ll talk to him.” You put a reassuring hand on her elbow and squeezed gently as your voice came out stronger than you were expecting. You could see her about to argue but you just nodded your head in reassurance. She sighed before accepting and shooting Benny one more warning look. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Promise.” You whispered in her ear when she pulled you in for one more hug. She seemed to hesitate at your dismissal but eventually made her way over to her own car.

You stayed in place until you watched her drive away and then Benny moved over to let you have room beside him against your car.

“What are you doing here Benny?” Your head tipped back to look at the darkening sky, pulling your jacket closer to your body. Noticing your movements, Benny took a small side step towards you. He didn’t touch you but his body heat made a little difference.

Apart from Frankie, Benny had become the closest of the guys to you. You were similar in age and loved to remind the other guys how old they were. You were like double trouble. He truly was one of your best friends and perhaps that was why this was hurting as much as it did. That not only was he the one that had to -drunkenly- bring up the bet but that it was him that had started the bet in the first place. Yeah obviously you didn’t know the guy when he apparently made the bet but he’s had nearly 4 years to get to know you. This was not how you treat a supposed best friend. Did you really know him? Could you get a person so wrong? Potentially. You married Frankie after all.

“I just wanted to say I’m so sorry for last night. I was way out of line.” You could see from the corner of your eye that he was standing in a similar position. “Yeah…you were.” You sighed defeatedly. “It’s not just on you though. Does he know you’re here?” You turned your head to take in his side profile and watched his throat bob as you waited for an answer.

He shook his head no and then cleared his throat, “Uh…no. I went over to your place this morning after Will told me everything that went down last night. I’m really sorry kid. It was never meant to come out like that.” Benny moved his hands into his pockets, his shoulders bunched up.

“It kind of feels like it wasn’t supposed to come out at all Benny.” You watched your feet as you kicked at a lose piece of gravel. “A bet Benny? Really? That shit hurts, especially coming from you.” Your voice cracked as a small tear slipped down your cheek. Benny’s head turned to take you in fully and you gasped in shock. How had you not noticed the growing black eye he now owned. “Did Frankie do that?” Your hand moved to touch his cheek but you caught yourself and pulled your hand back before you could.

“I deserved it.” He shrugged and tried to flash his usual cheeky grin but it didn’t make it up to his eyes and you could tell it wasn’t just because one of them was swelling up. “Listen, it’s not my place to tell you all of this. That’s his job. All I’ll say is that from the moment he saw you, he changed. The bet was never real. It was just to get his mopey ass motivated to keep trying to get you to go out with him. Im not sure if you remember…but you took playing hard to get to the next level!” He nudged his shoulder with yours and you both let out a small laugh. “He was in a bad place back then. We all were.” You watched as his face became sombre and glazed over in memory of those days. “You saved us all kid and we’ll never forget that.” You were crying freely now and when he noticed he gently pulled your body into his. You felt his chest expand as he took a steadying breath and placed a small kiss on the top of your head as a tear from his own eyes landed on your forehead. Slowly your arms wound around his waist as your sobs became uncontrollable.

Normally you would have no shame in crying but something in the back of your mind alerted you to the fact you were crying on a man that wasn’t your husband in the parking lot of your workplace.

Gaining some small sense of control back, you gently pulled yourself from Benny’s arms and used the sleeve of your jacket to wipe under your eyes. At the same time Benny moved to wipe a hand down his face before running both hands through his hair. He winced as his hand made contact with his black eye. “He shouldn’t have done that.” You whispered as you reached out to gently turn his chin and get a good look at his eye in the fading light.

He took both of your hands in his and placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles that said much more than he was willing to say verbally before letting them go and taking a step back from you. “Im not trying to tell you what to do right now but he’s an absolutely wreck right now and I’m not saying it isn’t deserved…trust me I know it is.” He raised his hands again in surrender at the raise of your eyebrows. “but when he couldn’t get in touch with you and Annie stopped texting him back it took all of Pope and I’s strength to stop him from storming into the school just to make sure you made it and were ok.”

You winced at the thought of him having to be held back by two of the guys. “If you can find it in you, could you at least let him know if you’re going home or not tonight?” You arms were back wrapped around yourself. Part of you didn’t want to cause Frankie any stress but a slightly bigger part felt like he deserved to sweat for a while longer.

Benny must have been able to read your thoughts cause he let out a small huff of laughter and shook his head.

“Or you know…I could phone him and let him know your ok and face his wrath for coming to see you after his warning this morning.” His good eye suddenly bugged at the last part of his sentence. You shot him a questioning look and he tried to roll his eyes before replying, “He might have made me swear to stay away from you for a while but…well, you know me.” The dirtiest snort of a laugh burst from you as he shrugged his shoulders and tried to wink at you from his swollen eye. “Ow, shit.” His hand coming up to touch his eye gently when he let out a hiss of pain. “I forgot how good his right hook can be.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a big, tough fighter these days Benny? Shouldn’t you have been able to block or dodge it or something?” You jested but his silence and wave of dismissal made you think that this black eye was his way of punishing himself. “Are you going to be able to drive with that? I can give you a ride?”

“Don’t you worry about me kid. I’ll be fine. It’s you we’re worried about.” You put your hand in your pocket and used your keys as a fidget as you stood and thought about everything that Benny had just said and suddenly something Frankie had said last night came rushing back.

“$200. Thats what I would have won.” Why had he emphasised the word ‘would’?

“Benny…what happened with the bet?” A small, genuine small appeared on his face as he watched you for a moment before answering. The keys in your hand jingling the more your anxiety rose.

“Like I said, there never was a bet kid. As soon as you agreed to give him your number that night I knew how this was going to play out.” Your brow furrowed in confusion but he continued on. “I just used the bet to make sure he didn’t give up on the best thing that would ever happen to him.” He stretched over and gave you shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Everyone knows how much I live for winding your husband up. Keeps his head straight and his heart true.”

Did Frankie know that? Was that what he had been trying to tell you but you were too stuck in your own head to give him the chance to say? Your eyes were brimming with tears again when Benny leant down to whisper in your ear, “Go home kid. Talk to him.” With a quick kiss to your cheek and a “Love yah,” thrown over his shoulder, he was turning around to walk over to what you now recognised as Will’s truck on the other side of the parking lot. Once Will caught your eye, he gave you a quick salut and wink before starting the engine and hopefully taking his brother home to deal with his worsening black eye.

You watched them leave the parking lot before pulling your keys out and unlocking the car. Once your bags were dumped on the passenger seat you searched through your handbag for your phone and plugged the charging cable from the radio into it. After a minute the device switched back on and your screen flashed with even more texts. The newest one being from Annie offering backup or a get away driver. You laughed but chose to ignore them all and go straight to Frankie’s name.

I’m coming home.

His reply came almost instantly.

Okay baby. I love you x

You decided not to reply and placed the phone in its holder before taking a deep breath and beginning your drive home.

#pedro pascal #frankie morales x reader #frankie catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #benny miller #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier imagine #santiago garcia #will miller #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction

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oatmealwrites · 21 hours ago

Text

A Night To... Forget? Ch. 3

Aizawa x Eidetic memory! Law student! F Reader

Part 2 | Part 4 -> coming soon!

(A night to forget masterlist)

Synopsis: You relay what Toshinori tells you about Friday night to Keigo, and finally meet with Aizawa for coffee and to pick up your jacket. Deciding to follow through on your drunk dinner plans, the both of you make a... date? Just two working adults planning dinner, nothing more.

Tags: It's getting NSFW, masturbation (m and f), mentions of alcohol, use of vibrator, horny thoughts, shower masturbation, cumming, mentions thoughts of: oral, creampie, tied up, degradation, p in v, car sex, and hickies; 18+, MDNI, plot & porn

Word count: 6.4k

(finally part 3! and it's getting steamy hehe. im planning for pt 4 to be absolute filth)

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

Last Friday Night - 12:13 am [Toshinori’s Recount]

The bar is blaring music while patrons are scattered around the property: the bartender is busy with orders, drunk couples are swaying to the beat, and a handful of people are smoking outside and enjoying some fresh air. Toshinori is shuffling through the jackets littered on your group’s booth seats looking for his coat while Keigo and Tsukauchi play darts, Kayama and Yamada are making song requests, and you and Aizawa are lingering at the billiards table.

King’s Cup ended around 15 minutes ago, and when everyone left the table to scatter around the bar, Toshinori was left people watching. Keigo hasn’t landed a single dart on the board since the game began, the college-aged employee in charge of the bar aux seemed to not recognize any of the songs Yamada was asking about, and you and Aizawa were so wrapped up in each other that you didn’t even notice the small and annoyed queue of people waiting for the pool table.

Even if Toshinori wasn’t sober, it would take a painfully oblivious person to ignore the synergy going on between you both. Unlike your other friends, who hover and talk amongst each other, you have an arm wrapped around Aizawa’s bicep like you need it to stand and his eyes never leave yours as if you’d disappear if he blinked.

“Those two sure are friendly~”

Toshinori looks up and laughs airly at Kayama who has returned from harassing the employee and left Yamada yelling his ear off about a band. She watches the way Aizawa holds your arms and stands behind you to assist in lining up a shot on the table while letting out a low whistle.

“Young love I suppose?”

“Young? That would make you old,” Kayama cackles and shoves the deflated man’s shoulder. “Cut yourself some slack.”

Toshinori shakes his head and laughs, silently wondering if Tsuakauchi would also want to leave, or if he should order a ride.

“...it’s the best Italian restaurant nearby.”

“ –Let’s go.”

The sound of your and Aizawa’s voice is loud enough to break him from his thoughts and he turns to observe your interaction once again. Leaning against the pool table and swaying the cue stick from hand to hand, you stare up at Aizawa with stars in your eyes. Only a blind person could miss it, and the tinge of red on Aizawa’s cheeks is enough indication that he’s effectively starstruck.

Toshinori laughs once again with a genuine smile and moves to slip on his winter coat and tug the zipper up to keep warm. Kayama leans against the table with a different kind of smile and nudges her friend’s shoulder.

“Who would’ve thought it would only take months for either one of them to make a move?”

Toshinori hums and throws a scarf Midoriya had gifted him around his neck. “Wel,l given their careers it makes sense. Heroes know how dangerous it is to love anybody… it makes them a target for villains to leverage.”

Kayama nods that she heard him, but it’s clear she wasn’t really listening. As philosophical and correct as Toshinori was, she was looking for a juicier answer. The two now watch you yelling at Keigo for nearly hitting you with a dart after he tried to do a ‘360 bullseye’ and spun around before letting go of the dart wayyy too early.

Both Toshinori and Kayama don’t miss the way Aizawa’s hand slides from your back to your waist the moment Keigo enters the conversation. While to them, your bickering with Keigo is nearly familial, Aizawa’s gaze on the man has Kayama and Toshinori wondering if he was about to use erasure again this evening on him.

“Well,” says Toshinori, looking at Tsukauchi who has wandered to the bar to join Yamada in ordering another round, “I’ll be heading home now. Let me know when you all do the same.”

“I can do you one better.”

Toshinori looks up from the rideshare app and raises an eyebrow at the woman; she slides her cell phone from her purse and opens the camera feature.

“It’s a bad idea–”

“–It’s a favor! What if they don’t remember the name of the restaurant they said they wanted to go to?”

Toshinori knows that isn’t the real reason she wants to film and take photos; blackmail and torment seem much more in line with her motives. Regardless, he makes no effort to stop her and shakes his head while heading for the exit. Even if you and Aizawa happen to forget the evening due to alcohol, surely you’ll make up and resume where you left off. Right?

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

Current Day: Sunday, 11am

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Keigo sits lazily on your apartment couch while cuddling one of your throw pillows into his chest; he raises an eyebrow at the abrupt end to your story.

“Soooo… all Toshinori said was that you guys were grinding on each other while playing pool?”

You pause from your anxious pace around the coffee table and roll your eyes. “No. He said we were kinda touchy and made dinner plans.”

Keigo shrugs and lays down further on the couch; his back rests against the arm rest and his legs are spread with one on the cushions and the other dangling to the floor. Your hair steadily drips from your shower earlier and you’ve finally changed out of sweatpants and into a pair of jeans.

“I just don’t get why he wouldn’t bring up the dinner plans if he did remember last Friday.”

Keigo throws the pillow up above his head before catching it and throwing it in the air again. “Maybe he doesn’t remember after all?”

You continue pacing again and bite at the edges of your cuticles in anxious thought. “I mean that’s possible…but he was acting so weird yesterday. He ended the conversation immediately after I said I didn’t remember anything.”

With another bite at your hangnail your heart drops. “What if he remembers and completely regrets it?”

Keigo catches the pillow and turns to you. “Then he wouldn’t text you to make sure you’re ok. He also wouldn’t offer coffee when he returns your jacket tomorrow.”

The reasoning makes sense, but Aizawa’s behavior didn’t. Why wouldn’t he just come forward and say he was drunk and didn’t feel the same? Or if he did feel the same, why not remind you about your poorly planned dinner date?

“Ugh,” you groan, sitting on your living room floor and placing your forehead against the cool glass of the coffee table. “Men are so confusing.”

Keigo laughs and places the pillow on his abdomen while remaining in his comfy position. “Ha! Not really. Even if he is a total stick in the mud, he’s still a guy. So he’s probably after….”

You look up and place your chin on the coffee table; Keigo lifts his hands up to mimic the ‘p in v’ motion with his fingers and cackles when you throw the tv remote at him.

“You’re NOT helping.”

The man shrugs and grabs the pillow off his lap before sliding it under his head and relaxing further onto your sofa. “Yes I am. Just fuck it out of your system and move on. I’d rather talk to you about other stuff that’s not about him.”

You deflate and rest your chin in your hand while you lean against the coffee table again. “Why do you care so much if it’s Aizawa anyways?”

Keigo stretches his hands back and groans at the sensation before sitting up. “I don’t really care that it’s him–” he stops and thinks for a moment. “Ok that actually is the reason.”

You watch and wait for him to elaborate.

“I dunno…You’re like my best friend, and seeing you so hung up on a guy that is the worst at conveying any kind of emotion is fucking annoying. It’s been months without any progress too…”

You sigh and suck the flesh of your cheek between your molars and think about everything. While yes, you normally would move on from a guy that shows zero interest in you, there’s something about him that makes you wanna hold out just a little longer.

“Listen,” Keigo says, pivoting and patting his thighs, ready to stand up. “If he makes you happy then do whatever you want. I still promised I’d help you get in his pants, and I’m a man of my word.”

He shoots you a stupid wink and you roll your eyes, but feel slightly better. While getting in Aizawa’s pants would be amazing, you would still like to actually date him as well. Assuming he actually wants to date you as well.

“Be upfront when you meet with him, yea?”

Keigo stands up and stretches from side to side before padding over to the coat closet by the front door. You watch as he shimmies on his hero jacket and places his usual shades over his eyes.

“I’ve got some meetings and parole so I won’t be around today. Call me after your coffee date~.”

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

Monday - 12:45 pm

You and Aizawa haven’t texted since Sunday, so when he messages you the location of a nearby cafe to confirm your plans, you nearly considered canceling. To be honest, you had even considered pick-pocketing Keigo’s wallet and stealing his black credit card to just buy a new blazer rather than face Aizawa. It’s not like you were avoiding getting some sort of closure… you were just avoiding him.

Boots rocking on the escalator, you exit the metro station and peer down at the map on your phone before continuing down the street. The anxiety in your gut has been building all morning; forgoing breakfast from the nausea.

Keigo had sent you a simple ‘good luck’ text in the morning and reminded you his phone would be off until the evening when he was finished with work. Your fellow law student friends had also reached out and said they’d be in the area for lunch if you needed a quick escape if things turned south.

Wind picks up and you hug into yourself at the feeling, the temperature dropping drastically over the past few days and causing you to wear your winter coat. Overcast clouds create a dreary atmosphere though people on the streets don’t seem to mind, walking in and out of stores and restaurants on their usual routine.

You notice Aizawa immediately when you turn the corner; dressed in a gray winter coat and black slacks with dark boots, his face immediately softens when he notices you. He slides his phone into his pocket as you walk; turning away slightly, he adjusts the fabric of his pants through his pockets for a brief moment.

Now or never…

You quicken your pace and approach the man, hating the way your heart tugs at the sight of the wind pushing his hair back. The light stubble on his face is gone, indicating he recently shaved, and there’s a light sandalwood scent in the air from his cologne. Despite this being a casual coffee and jacket drop-off, he cleans up nice.

Aside from the way your heart rate picks up, you can feel yourself clench pathetically around nothing. Maybe you really do need to get laid.

“Sorry if I made you wait long.”

Aizawa turns to open the door with the hand not carrying a paper shopping bag, and smiles gently. “No, you didn’t. I just got here a minute ago.”

A hostess from behind the coffee bar immediately greets the two of you and points to an open table to seat yourselves at. When Aizawa walks in front of you towards the table, you miss the way he calms himself with a quiet breath. With shaky hands, he pulls a chair out for you and then takes the one right across; awkwardly, you grab one of the laminated menus from the holder and stare down at the words.

“So…how are you feeling?”

“Oh, better. Not hungover, and considering sobriety for the rest of my life.”

Aizawa scoffs lightly at the joke and peers down at his own menu, the silence heavier than either of you want to admit. Nervously, you shrug off your coat and place it behind you on the chair; you tug at the collar of your sweater once before looking at the menu again.

“How are your cases going? I heard from my students you swung by and spoke with Tokoyami.”

“Yea, Keigo had sent him to pick up my files by accident.”

Aizawa looks up and hangs on to every word, a slight furrow in his brows. “Oh. Do you and...him, work on cases a lot?”

You shake your head lightly while glancing out the cafe window to watch the wind pick up and a light drizzle hit the pavement. “No, not really. He was just wayyy too fucked up Friday to tell left and right apart.”

“I see.”

Aizawa nods and waits a beat before looking back down at his menu and thumbing the edge of the lamination side to side in thought.

“I’m working on the case with Vlad King though,” the forced nature of the conversation lifts slightly to something more casual, “so I’ll be at the conference tomorrow to run over everything before the prosecution starts next week.”

Aizawa hums and nods once again before looking back down. It’s painfully obvious you both want to discuss what was really going on between you both. Though, while you sit in your chair anxiously wondering how to accuse him of remembering Friday night, he sits across from you internally preparing for a humiliating rejection. Aizawa sucks in a deep breath and places his menu on the table.

“Listen, I want to–” “Have you decided on anything to drink?”

The waitress cuts Aizawa off and fishes out a pen from her pocket while holding a paper notepad. He coughs lightly and orders a black coffee and pauses for you to order your preferred caffeinated beverage.

When she returns to the counter to prepare the drinks, you turn your gaze back to the man across from you. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Aizawa looks at you a beat longer than natural, and blinks before turning out the window and shaking his head slightly.

“Oh, nothing.”

You swallow thickly and wince while Aizawa sits in self-deprecation for making the scene even more awkward than before. Now. Or. Never.

This is the only moment you have to get clarification, and while your ego may be bruised for 10-15 years, you can’t take another anxious sleepless night.

“Do you remember something about an Italian restaurant… from Friday night?”

Even though this is the moment Aizawa’s been preparing for since Saturday, it doesn’t calm his heart rate at all. He’s imagined this moment a million different ways for the past two days, and each outcome has him feeling more dejected than the previous one.

Guilt weighs in his gut heavier than he anticipated, and with a defeated sigh he locks eyes with you. “Yes. Yes, I do remember that.”

You wet your lips and nod gently. “I see…so why didn’t you mention it before? When I visited the school campus on Saturday?”

He knows exactly why he didn’t bring it up, though in effort to spare his already deflated self-image, Aizawa shrugs lightly. “I didn’t want to make things awkward. Or…more awkward than they probably are.”

It’s not an outright rejection, but the uncertainty of his intentions doesn’t help you relax at all. Judging by the way he’s rubbing the back of his neck and looking out the window, he’s not showing all his cards.

“I mean…Toshinori told me vaguely about Friday. He said we spoke about going there, together.”

“Yea,” he takes a long sigh and drags his eyes back to yours. “We did.”

There’s a pause between you both as you collectively acknowledge the implication of that proposal, but neither one wants to be the first one to call it out. You pick at your nails for a moment beneath the table, palms beginning to sweat.

Aizawa takes a breath and collects himself, silently wishing this topic could’ve happened after he gave you the jacket and paid for coffee. At least that way he could leave promptly after humiliating himself. But this conversation needed to happen, he needs to get you out of his head already.

“We can still go,” you say, breaking the silence and feeling your ribs about to crack from your heartbeat, “if you want to.”

Your proposal is obviously not what he was expecting to leave your mouth. Instead of staring out the window partially aloof, he holds your gaze with his mouth open slightly and eyes open so wide he’s unsure if he even heard you correctly.

“You want to go…?”

“I mean if you don’t want to–”

“–No!” Aizawa coughs slightly afterward, cheeks twined pink in the embarrassment of his outburst. “I mean.. I want to go there, but I’m just surprised.”

Good surprised? Or bad surprised?

Regardless, you nod slightly and try to make the proposal as casual as you can muster given the situation.

“Yea, why not? I mean, you said it’s really good and I’m curious to try it.”

Ok, casual. So casual.

Your internal pep talk qualms your anxiety a bit while Aizawa continues looking at you in awe the proposal. His silence makes you squirm a bit and prepare to take back the offer if he didn’t want to before he finally musters a response.

“Yea… ok. Let’s go.”

A slight heat on your cheeks, Aizawa blinks a few times before his mind finally catches up with what is currently happening.

“When are you free? I’m usually out of classes by the early evening, grading papers and exams are something I can move around more easily.”

With a hum, you both take out your phones and begin examining your own schedules and the moment diffuses to a more natural conversation. Small talk about your own classes, his busier weekends when hero training happens with field trips, and your collective efforts in fighting villains flows smoothly between you both. It's the longest you’ve both gone without one of you finding an excuse to leave; well, besides last Friday night.

“We’ve got the case debrief tomorrow… Maybe Thursday?”

“Ah, I have an evening seminar that day with a guest professor… Does next Wednesday work?”

Aizawa scrolls to the next week on his phone and nods in approval. “Yea that works. I’m finished teaching by 5pm.”

You open your ‘events’ tab to insert the meeting. “Ok! Maybe we can go at 7? 7:30?”

The man across from you hums and begins typing. “Yes, 7pm works perfect for me.”

“Ok, nice! It’s a dat–”

“Your drinks! Sorry for the delay, we had an influx of to-go orders.” The waitress places two drinks in front of you both and bows slightly in apology before retreating once again.

Despite her interruption for a second time, you’re extremely grateful for it cutting you off. Date? It’s not a date right?

If Aizawa heard your Freudian slip, he makes no effort to show it on his face. Instead, he lifts the ceramic mug to his lips and blows the steam away slightly; his shoulders are relaxed as he leans back in his chair for the first time since you’ve entered the coffee shop.

“I had your blazer dry cleaned by the way. I think some of that mystery liquid from the drinking game got on it at some point.”

You lift your drink to your lips and mirror his relaxed position. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that!”

Despite your words, you are actually extremely grateful he did so; law school students aren’t exactly the most financially liquid.

He shrugs and takes a sip. “It’s no worry, really.”

The conversation flows naturally for another 30 minutes before Aizawa checks his phone and tilts his head as his lunch break is nearly over. Despite the rocky start at the beginning of the meeting, the two of you have left little silence between each other. From discussing plans you had with other friends over the weekend to sharing his life-hacks for getting better nights sleep, time had escaped rather quickly.

Before you can shimmy on your coat and dig in the pockets for your wallet, Aizawa walks over to the counter and explains your orders to the employee. Seamlessly, he offers his credit card and signs the receipt all by the time you finally make it over to him.

“Thank you! Come again!”

The wind is brutal on your face the moment you step out of the cafe with Aizawa holding the door open. You zip up your jacket better to keep warm and tuck your hands in your pockets despite the handles of the paper bag awkwardly jutting out.

“You didn’t have to pay by the way.”

“Hm?” He tucks up the collar on his coat and brings his shoulders up to cover his ears from the wind. “Just… buy mine later?”

The suggestion brings a pink to your cheeks, but the wind piercing your skin provides an excuse for it. You both walk about a block down the road before parting ways with a slight wave; even if Keigo was busy, you pull up his contact anyways and hit ‘dial’.

~~~~~~~

The rest of Monday passed as it usually would; two afternoon and evening classes had you returning to your apartment just in time for dinner and Keigo had already inquired about everything after his last meeting ended. Sitting on your sofa and rubbing your eyes slightly from a late night study session, you consider calling it an early night.

During both of your classes you couldn’t sit still at all. Phone under the table and texting your friends updates on what happened made you feel like you were in high school all over again. Of course, neither you nor Aizawa confirmed what next week’s… meeting really was. There was no mention of it being a date, so part of you wanted to simply label it dinner with a colleague.

It made sense rationally. Both of you adults with your own schedules and work life; it’s not like either of you had asked the other out. He had ended the jacket-drop off promising to send you the restaurant information tomorrow, needing some time to make the reservation before getting your hopes up and sending you a copy of the menu.

The only thing weighing you down was that Aizawa had remembered the initial plans and chose not to say anything.

Sliding your textbook off your lap and standing up from the couch with a stretch, you pad over to the kitchen still considering everything. It made sense he would want to avoid mentioning it, especially if you didn’t even remember the plans. The main question you now wondered was if he remembered more of Friday than you have currently figured out.

You chew on your lower lip with your canines and open your cupboard to take out a wine glass and blow away any dust from the inside. Toshinori’s recommendation of asking Kayama still hangs in the air, but you’ve had enough stress for one evening.

Opening your fridge, you pull out a cheap bottle of pinot grigio and tilt your hip to shut the door. You have no plans of getting shitfaced, but a glass of wine to end the evening seemed to be calling your name. Undoing the screw cap, you pour a generous glass before returning the bottle to the fridge and heading into your bedroom.

Door shut, warm floor lamp on, and wine on your night stand, the scene stirs a feeling different from sleep. Slipping under the comforter and top sheet, you lean against the headboard and pillows and consider ending your evening a bit differently than initially planned.

You lean over and grab your current book from its spot next to you on the bed and place it on your nightstand before opening the top drawer. A familiar pink shade of silicon greets you as you reach down and pick up the vibrator from its spot. Running your hands over the buttons, you power it on and feel the vibration gently tremor in your hand with enough force to give the impression of it being half charged.

Nodding in approval, you power it off for a moment and turn to take a few long sips of wine and relax back into your pillows. Cheeks feeling flush from the alcohol and serenity of the moment, you place the glass back down and pinch the waistband of your sleep shorts between your fingers and pull the fabric down along with your panties.

Sighing at the sensation, you reach over and power on the vibrator before lowering it to kiss your clit. Fuck, you really needed this.

Keigo is the last thing on your mind, but he really wasn’t wrong when he said you needed to get laid.

Shutting your eyes and imaging the scenario in your mind, Aizawa’s face flashes into perfect view. Long hair tousled in every direction, a body sculpted from marble from years of physical work, and dexterous fingers exploring your body have you arching your hips in anticipation.

Just envisioning the scenario has you grinding into the vibrator to increase the stimulation on your puffy clit. Lowering the vibrator to take some of the wetness from your cunt as lube, you bring the vibrator back up and rub smooth circles on your clit.

It’s wrong to imagine him so objectively, but at this point you don’t really care. Would he be gentle? The strong, silent type to make love with passion? Or would he be just as sexually pent up as you? Bending you over and fucking you hard and rough while nasty words left his lips?

You’re sure he has fans and admirers; or even fellow heroes that had a much better chance of experiencing this fantasy than you. But the image of him splitting you open on the mattress while his lips suck possessive bruises into your neck make the worry instantly dissipate.

Gentle sighs leave your lips as the scene becomes clear in front of you. Normally when you have sex with anyone, it’s relatively tame and vanilla; in your head, it becomes so much more disgusting. Would he tie you up? Leave you at his mercy while he pounds into your cunt and fills you with cum? Erase your quirk and give you a mind shattering orgasm; then splay your thighs open once again because he can’t let you leave forgetting it?

The degrading thought creates a bigger gush from your pussy than your ego can ever admit. Flicking the button on the vibrator, you increase the intensity setting and grind your hips down again. Even if it was all in your head, you intend to end this evening with the pleasure you’ve been needing for too damn long.

~~~~~~~

Monday evening: Same time

AIZAWA POV

Tired eyes shut as Aizawa yawns and pushes away a stack of papers that remain ungraded. Moonlight pouring in from the windows, a single table lamp illuminates the room with a warm glow while the man leans back in his chair with exhaustion. The rest of class went as expected, his students yelling and competing amongst each other while he had to use all the willpower in his body to remain calm despite being anything but that.

Lazily opening his eyes and looking around the lonely apartment that he occupied within the dorm building, Aizawa can’t help but pull out his phone to confirm once again, you both had scheduled a date. Well, neither of you had agreed it was a date, but he swears he had heard you call it one back at the cafe.

Of course, he would still be seeing you in between then and now; a case debrief tomorrow and most likely bumping into each other on UA campus while you worked with other heroes. He was more surprised you had wanted to actually go anywhere with him. It’s not like he was the most conversational guy out there, and considering your best friend was adored and extremely popular, it made little sense you’d want to accompany him to dinner.

Aizawa had been a nervous wreck this morning, giving his students group tasks to keep busy and arriving at the coffee shop 20 minutes early just in case. His students had even noticed the slight change in his appearance, but chose not to say anything out of fear. It’s not like he shaves or tries to clean up very often.

He pushes his chair back and heads to the sink to fill a glass of water, his throat feeling dry and a heavy weight lingers on his shoulders. He still should’ve come clean when you first approached him on campus; he knows it. He also knows it’s only a matter of time before you figure out the rest of what happened that evening, and get frustrated at him for once again not being 100% honest.

Though that’s a bridge he’ll cross when the time comes.

For now, he’s more than delighted by the possibility of there being a chance. A chance you may actually reciprocate a fraction of the feelings he’s been harboring despite his cold shoulder to you for far too long.

Aizawa sips the water and wipes off the drops that escape his lips and glide down his chin. He should shower and try to clear his mind before seeing you tomorrow; take the rest of the evening to relax and sleep.

Placing the glass in the sink, he resolves to do exactly that; walking to the bathroom and sliding open the glass door of the shower to start the water. Leaving it to warm up, he carefully strips down and places dirty clothes into the hamper before opening the sink cabinet to look for a new bottle of shampoo.

Without thinking, he pulls out the spare bottle, but his eyes catch and linger on the familiar clear container that sits in the back of the cabinet. Immediately, his cock twitches slightly and the bathroom begins to fill with steam as hot water pours from the shower head.

He reaches back and pulls it out along with his shampoo before standing upright and thinking it over. Though his body doesn't need any convincing, Aizawa always feels like shit after jerking off to the image of you. It’s more than your body that he’s attracted to, but late evenings and long periods of not getting any action leave his cock slowly stiffening like clockwork.

Immediately, his mind drifts to you and the array of images he’s cultivated in his mind despite his best intentions. The times your blouse has separated at the buttons and given him peaks of your lace bra, the times you’ve leaned over a desk to reach documents and showed off the swell of your ass, and the entirety of Friday night leave Aizawa sucking in a breath as his dick hardens in arousal.

Opening the glass door of the shower and lowering the heat of the water, Aizawa furrows his eyebrows together and rubs his face. He felt like a horny teenager when it came to you. It was so fucking wrong considering you were essentially just work colleagues, who happened to agree to getting dinner.

Aizawa doesn’t appreciate your company simply because you sexually interest him; your charm, wit, and intelligence were more than enough to have him completely at your beck and call if you ever tried. Though the way you purse your lips in thought make him wonder what they’d look like around his cock, the way you tug at the neckline of your sweater make him imagine his own hand around your throat, and the way your thighs look in that professional knee-length pencil skirt leave him envisioning bending you over and hiking the fabric to your waist while he pounds into you.

It’s the same thoughts that pollute his mind more frequently than he could ever admit, and running his head under the water doesn’t dull the painful ache in his cock for relief. Letting the water fully saturate his hair, Aizawa slicks it back from his forehead to remain out of his face while he opens the clear bottle cap.

Reaching up, he pushes the shower head to face the wall slightly and negate the amount of water hitting him before pouring a generous amount of lube into his hand. Snapping the bottle shut and placing it on a ledge within the shower walls, Aizawa reaches down to give himself a few slow pumps.

The sensation makes him sigh and a few pearls of pre cum ooze from his tip as the image in his brain comes into a clear view. It’s the both of you in the back seat of a car, your lipstick smudged from making out, pupils blown with desire, and windows so foggy no one can see inside. Aizawa unbuckles his slacks and tugs the material down to his thighs along with his boxers while you hoist your dress and move to straddle him.

“Fuck..”

Giving attention to his swollen tip, he rubs the large vein on the side of his cock and moves to pump himself more steadily. Hand tight, but not too much pressure, he tugs at an even pace and tries to envision it’s anything but his hand making him feel good.

In his mind, you’re whimpering as he stretches you out so nicely. Tits basically pouring out of the fabric you dare to call a dress, Aizawa keeps his hands steady on your waist to set a rhythm the same speed of his hand right now. That sweet and friendly smile is long gone as you furrow your brows and grind up and down like a needy slut.

“Haaa… nngh”

Shallow pants leave his lips as the vision gets clearer and his hips jerk forward to meet his strokes. As degrading as it was to envision you as sexually desperate as himself, the image was too hot to shake from his brain. The idea of you being as needy and deprived as him, makes the image that much better.

Using him to get off while he enjoys the view of you being so desperate for him and his cock make Aizawa bite his lip and increase the speed of his hand. Fog still pouring from above the shower walls, he moves to better massage the tip and increase the pressure a tad. Balls feeling heavy and hips twitching slightly, the familiar coil in his abdomen begins to build.

Where would you let him cum? In your pretty hands that he’ll pay to have manicured if you ask? On your face; cum staining your cheeks and strands of your hair? Or maybe your mouth? Sticking out your tongue to prove you swallowed it all.

“Oh… f-fuck… y/n..”

Your name leaves his lips in messy mumbles while hand moves to increase the speed and focus on his tip as pre cum drips down pathetically onto the tiles. Maybe you’d let him cum inside? Let him be the only guy that gets to stuff your little cunt and see it slowly seep out while you lay in a fucked out haze.

“Haaaa…. Shit–”

With an almost pained sigh, Aizawa twitches his hips erratically to meet the thrust of his hand and cums. Hard. Hot ropes of semen ooze from the tip and paint his hand, part of his thighs, and the tiles of the shower floor. The heat from the cum is noticeable despite the warm water temperature, and the sensation of his orgasm leaves him leaning against the wall.

Cool tiles bring comfort to his skin while he catches his breath and tries to ignore the guilty post-nut clarity washing over him. He never felt relief or contentment after jerking off to you; it only made it worse. Aizawa couldn’t be satisfied with his imagination, he needed to know if you were just as amazing in real life as in his horny fantasies.

Coming down from his high and reaching up to tilt the shower head back onto his body, he sighs and washes off the evidence from his skin. Once it’s all effectively drowned down the drain, he reaches for his usual body wash and suds up while exhaustion washes over him.

Scars and bruises litter his body, and washing off the soap makes him momentarily self conscious for the state of his own appearance. The thought passes, having no solution to remove scars and accepting them, but his gaze lingers on his softening cock.

Dark hairs litter his navel and descend into a relatively untamed bush that spreads around the base of his shaft and balls. He doesn’t expect to get lucky at all during this dinner ‘date’. But…he supposes cleaning up wouldn’t hurt and makes a mental note to purchase a new razor for his body.

Finishing up his routine, he shuts the water and steps out in the bathroom to dry off and wrap a towel around his waist before stepping into the bedroom. Steam pours out of the room and creates a slight fog while the overhead lights from above the sink illuminate his room in a dull glow.

It’s not messy, though several dishes, coffee cups, and papers litter his desk and floor. Once again, he doesn’t expect anything from this dinner, but the moment leaves him a mental note to also clean up and change his sheets. Stepping to his dresser, he tugs out a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs and sleep pants before stepping into them, forgoing a shirt.

Flipping the towel over and shaking out the remaining water from his hair, Aizawa throws the cloth over his bathroom door and shuts off the lights. Crawling into bed and shivering at the cool temperature of the sheet on his bare skin, guilt still gnaws at him.

You would never see him in the same pathetic way he was mentally tortured to see you every evening. You were friendly and respectful, giving him chance after chance to explain himself despite his dishonesty. He sighs and leans into the pillow before wrapping the blankets around him similar to the way a sleeping bag would.

Be professional. A case debrief and casual dinner the following week. Don’t get ahead of yourself.

Sleep finds him easier this evening than he would expect; relief on his shoulders as he imagines the reason you offered dinner was because maybe you did feel the same.

Ty for ur patience on this series! I have the plot and smut all planned out, but traveling and laptop issues have delayed it a bit ;-; also the next chapters will keep getting steamier so buckle in ;)

lmk if you wanna be added to the taglist! & happy new year!

comments/likes/reblogs are all appreciated! ╰(´︶`)╯♡

-oatmeal

Tag list: @idkidk32 @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @aizawasbaeee @smashley351

#aizawa shōta #aizawa shouta #aizawa shota #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shota x reader #aizawa shouta smut #aizawa shota smut #aizawa smut #aizawa shouts x reader smut #aizawa shota x reader smut #bnha x reader #bnha smut #mha x reader #mha smut #oatmealwrites #oatmealwordsaizawa

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summervb · 2 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐬 | axel kovacevic × reader!fem

part I — part II

summary | after Axel stops Kwon from hurting you, all you need is him, all of him.

warnings | p in v, unprotected sex

word count | 1.6 k

"You know what, Axel?" You say with a somewhat mischievous smile, taking a step towards him. "I think the only thing I need now... It's a kiss.

The air seems to stop for a second. Axel blinks, surprising at first, but his expression changes rapidly, though he can't hide the flash of surprise that flashes across his eyes.

"What?" His voice is almost a whisper, and for a moment it seems that he is looking for some sign of a joke.

But you don't back down. You get even closer to him, without looking away.

"You heard that right". Your voice is confident, although the tension in the air increases. "A kiss. That's all I need."

Axel keeps looking at you, studying your words, as if he's evaluating every intention behind them. A slight sigh escapes him before he takes a step towards you.

Then, with a speed you didn't expect, he grabs you by the waist, pulling you toward him. Your heartbeat resonates loudly in your chest, and in the blink of an eye, his lips are above yours, warm and urgent.

The first sensation is a crash. The intensity of his kiss brings you down, but you don't care. His embrace fits around you, his hands steady behind your back, as if he's telling you that you don't have to worry about anything else. At that moment, the whole world seems to vanish. There is only him and you, and the silent promise of something that needs no words to be understood.

The kiss lasts only an instant, but when it separates, the feeling of calm and satisfaction runs through your entire body.

Axel looks at you with an expression you don't know how to interpret, but the twinkle in his eye tells you everything you need to know.

"Is that what you wanted?" He asks, his voice somewhat hoarse, as if he too were processing what just happened.

"Yes, exactly" . You laugh softly, feeling a mixture of relief and excitement.

The air between you and Axel seems charged with electricity, the kiss you just shared still vibrating in the space around them. You realize that what just happened has changed something between the two of you, as if the moment of tension, the fight, the danger, everything had vanished with that single act of closeness.

But as the calm settles, there is something inside of you that lights up again. The rubbing of his hands on your back, the firm grip of his body against yours, awakens a feeling of excitement that you had not anticipated. There is something about how it holds you up, with so much strength and determination, that makes you feel, in some way, more alive than ever.

You look into their eyes, and though concern still shines in them, there is a different spark. A flash that makes you wonder if he feels the same way. If, like you, he is feeling the electricity between them, that little power play that has been ignited by their simple contact.

Axel watches you, evaluating you, but not in the cold and distant manner that he usually does. This time, it seems like he really sees you. As if he was reading every move you make, every change in your breath, as if he was looking for something in you that he might not understand himself.

You, on the other hand, keep looking at it, feeling that warmth in your chest, a heat that spreads through your body as you come closer to him, without turning away your eyes. You don’t know if it’s because you want to keep getting closer, or if it’s just the desire not to let that moment end.

"What else do you need?" asks Axel, his voice a little more low, as if the situation had affected him too, although his expression remains tense.

"Only to you" whispers without thinking, letting those words flow, even though the rubbing of your body against his makes you feel even more vulnerable.

There is a pause, a stillness between the two, where the world seems to have stopped once more. But this time, it is as if they are on the same page, the same game of intentions not said but understood, as if everything that had happened before no longer matters.

You approach him again, this time more boldly, and take the initiative. Your breath is soft, but your heart beats fast.

"You know what I want now?" Whispers, almost like a challenge, and his eyes darken a little more.

Axel does not respond immediately. He looks at you, evaluating, but you cannot ignore the luster of desire that begins to shine in his gaze, as if his own desires are greater than any resistance he may have.

With a low sigh he comes nearer, bringing his face closer to yours. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, that closeness that makes you feel so vulnerable, but at the same time so alive. He takes you by the waist, firm but soft, as if he has control of everything, but also of you.

"Are you sure?" his voice, deep and charged with a repressed desire, makes you shudder. It’s a whisper, but you feel it all over your body.

Your response is a simple rubbing of your lips against his, a small but promising gesture. You need not say anything else. He understands. Axel does not wait any longer and, without warning, he quickly lowers his pants along with his boxers, his hard cock comes in contact with you, his red and swollen tip desperate to free himself. He lowered your gi by shaking the panties you were wearing on the side, his tip pressed against your wet entrance while his hand grabbed your ass. He takes you completely in his arms, lifting you up with an ease that surprises you. The same gesture that made you feel safe before is now becoming something else. It is as if you were floating, as if he was your whole world, and everything around you ceased to exist.

The rubbing of his body against yours, the heat that emanates from it, you feel it in every pore of your skin. All that you have repressed, all the desire you have kept for yourself, is released in that instant. You want more. And you want it from him.

"God, you’re already so wet" he said in a mocking tone "What was it that hit you so much?"

A sigh came out of your lips as your cheeks became even redder than they already were. You didn’t want to admit that the mere fact of being lifted up as if nothing weighed down made you humectate in that way.

He squeezed a hand around the length directing his tip to push into your hot hole.

Axel entered your insides slowly, making you feel every inch of its length stretching, you could not help but moan at the sensation while Axel did the same, loving the way you felt around him.

"Just made for me, mhm? you feel so good" he praised you, with eyes closed, fully enjoying the feeling of being inside you, slowly coming out and then pushing back into you.

His attacks were deep but slow, hitting the right place and making you bite your lip. "Let me take care of you, princess". He whispered in your ear, but you were not listening at all, your mind was clouded.

"Mhm faster" you said feeling his cock throbbing inside of you and despite the state in which you were you felt needed more, "I got you" Axel pleased you, his rush faster as the room filled with the sound of his body crashing into yours, His cock came out and quickly entered your wet pussy.

You let out a loud moan when the You let out a loud moan when the hand of Axel moved towards your clitoris, his fingers applied the appropriate pressure moving quickly on the set of nerves making your body tremble, Your hand was pressed against his back.

"Fuck" your voice drowned out among the various moans as Axel squeezed your chest, you moved your arm back around his neck, pushing it even closer to you than it already was. You turned your face towards him to feel his lips, the kiss was messy and careless, interrupted by your continuous groans. "That’s right, princess, you squeeze me so hard I can barely move here" his dirty words only pushed you even further to the edge, arching your back to meet the speed of their onslaught.

"Are you there, princess? Give it to me" she incited you, leaving wet kisses on your jaw that went down to the neck. I could feel your body shaking and your pussy clenching around it, that you were about to reach your climax. "I’m so close" she sighed feeling a weight forming in the lower part of her stomach, her ever faster thrusts helping you reach your orgasm.

"Come on" his words did nothing but push you even further to climax and with a loud moan you let yourself go, your hand clenched around his arm as you released on Axel’s cock.

"I’m going to cum in this pussy, I’ll fill you up so well" you complained at his words, his cock still hard abused your overstimulated pussy, you could feel every vein of its length pumping inside you and you almost reached your second orgasm.

"I need you" you said desperately, your voice low and tired.

After a few more shovels, he pulled away from you, giving another low grunt at the loss of your pussy holding it so tight. As he put his cock back into his boxers. You imitated his gesture, put your suit on.

"You did very well princess" she whispered leaving a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

You kissed him once more making sure he felt how grateful you were, not only for the good sex they had just had, but also for saving you.

#cobra kai #cobra kai season 6 #cobra kai x reader #cobra kai series #cobra kai smut #cobra kai s6 #axel kovacevic #cobra kai x you #axel kovacevic x reader #axel kovacevic smut

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heartandbow · 6 hours ago

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Midnight Blue

BUCKY BARNES X FEM!READER SMUT

summary: Bucky hated you in many different ways, and tonight was no exception. tw; smut, choking, dom!bucky.

Despite Bucky's reputation of being big, bad, and dangerous, there is yet to be a time he ever scared you. Even now, where he was in the very building somewhere to kill you, you knew his only weakness — he couldn't sneak around.

It's not surprising when you think about it. With his death stare and metallic arms, anybody would spot him coming from a mile away. You just have to make sure you're faster than him, which happened to be your specialty. Being a thief for the last few years taught you everything there is to know about blending in with the shadows.

Which was a shame, you thought, because I look nice today.

You did look nice. You were currently in a gala for some valiant cause or other, hosted by some rich businessman you hadn't bothered to catch the name of. You had on your midnight blue gown, embedded with pearls that reflected off the champagne glasses and Rolex watches.

"Excuse me," one of the attendees said, tapping your shoulder. "Are you Miss Malley?"

"No," you smiled broadly, knowing the guy was about to hit on you any second.

"Oh, my mistake." He had a sheepish grin. "I'm Shane. Can I buy you a drink?"

"The drinks are free," you said, grinning right back.

"I know."

"Aren't you busy trying to find Miss Malley?"

"Who?" The smile hadn't worn off.

This particularly uninteresting conversation was cut short by sudden silence at the gala. The foolish sack of a man had diverted your attention just enough that you saw a metallic death stare at the end of the gala — a stare that seemed just for your particular demise.

Don't panic, you thought, staring right back. He wouldn't dare hurt you with this many people present. Even then, he was making his way towards you. You moved away, silent as a ghost.

With each turn of crowd, you realized you might quite possibly be stuck. Bucky had brought in reinforcement ranging from Natasha Romanoff to Captain America, all of them in regal formal attire and in different corners. No one except Bucky had spotted you, possibly because he was the only person who actually had a personal vendetta against you.

Get out, your brain said clearly. Get out before they bring you to Stark. You had enough beef with that man to last for a lifetime.

You grimaced, then looked for the exit. Not the one that the attendees use, no, that would be too easy. You headed for the staff exit, the one behind the kitchen.

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

Half an hour later, you were walking through the dark alley, your heels clinking against the pavement. You were exhausted from all the walk, but you were used to this dance by now. Move until the target is off your back. That's how it's always been.

You wondered if you'd ever get tired of the steps.

Someone whistled. You turned to see a man around his late 40s, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"How much for the night, sweetie?"

You squinted. He looked harmless enough. You kept on walking, ignoring his continuous calls behind your back.

"Don't be like that! What, I'm not young enough for you? I thought your kind took money from anyone with a dick!"

You had half a mind to punch him in the face with the hidden knife.

No, walk on. Last thing you need is a corpse on the street.

A second passed, then two. The man's immediate silence ticked off your senses. You turned around to see him on the floor, unconscious. Somehow, it did not look like it was the alcohol that took him out.

You were almost impressed when a knife appeared at your throat from behind.

"You're getting better at sneaking around," you said proudly. "You didn't have to knock him out though. Chap was not laying a hand on me."

"Shut the fuck up." Bucky's raspy voice sent a jolt of adrenaline down your spine. His anger was controlled, but you still could hear it.

"Your wish." You stepped on his shoes. He let out a pang of hurt, not expecting your heels to feel that sharp.

One moment of distraction, that's what cost him. You whipped your gun and faced him, smile on your face.

"How did you find me?" you asked, genuinely curious.

"That hardly matters." He put his hand out, grabbing the gun, or trying to anyways. You stepped out of the way just in time and he grunted.

"You need to loosen up. Like the night we did the Catherbury mission, remember?"

That only seemed to rile him up more. You didn't think he even cared that much about the fact that you were in Avengers a good deal of time before you sneaked into Stark's office, got his card, stole a great deal of gadgets and sold them off the black market. You didn't think he even cared you were the biggest thief in the city, one that fooled even the avengers.

His vendatta against you was personal, because he considered you his friend. The cold, cruel Bucky was duped for the world to see.

"I really think we should sit down and talk," you said, the gun still held high. "Everything I did was business Bucky, stop taking it so personally."

Bucky's face showed just a tinge of hurt, but then he hurled — no weapons, no hesitation. Just full-on punched on you, and your back hit the wall.

"If everything wasn't so fucking personal, shoot me," he practically spat out those words.

You realized you hadn't even thought of using the gun that lay hanging lifeless from your hands. You tried to grip it, but Bucky pushed his hand on top of it, bending the metal seamlessly in a way it was upside down. You let it go and tried to move.

Bucky clapped his hands on the wall on either side of your head. His eyes were smeared with charcoal and he smelt like musky cologne.

"Where's your disappearing act now?" he whispered, making you feel all sorts of things.

"Let me go," you said, gritting your teeth. God, he was standing too close.

He bent his head down and brought his lips near your ears.

"You've no clue how long I wanted to have you like this," he said, making your heart skip a beat. "Unescapable, vulnerable, scared."

"I'm not scared."

"You should be." He put his hand — the non-metallic one — over your throat. His touch was gentle, but the message was clear; he could kill you in a touch.

Though it didn't help that you liked it a little too much.

"How did you find me?" you asked again, calmly.

"Shane is my friend. He put a GPS tracker on you. I knew you'd run so all I had to do was wait."

You were impressed yet again.

"How did Shane find me? I was blending in the crowd well."

Bucky's eyes shone brighter. "You weren't going to blend in with a dress that beautiful," he stopped, removing his hand. It was as if he just realized how close he actually was to you. His eyes slid down to your lips just a second. His hands started lowering from the wall to your waist.

Then his lips were on yours, and you could have sworn he put all his anger into it. One kiss and he was prying your lips open, making out with you in that dark alley with a knocked out man five feet away.

"James," you whined between kisses, pulling him closer. The moans did things to his brain. He slid his hands through the slit of your dress, grabbing your thigh with a force that had you unnerved.

"Can I—"

"Yes."

He closed your mouth with his other hand. "No, listen to me first. I want you to mean it. Completely. Because I don't know the things I'll do to you when you say yes."

In response, you took his hand from your thighs and slid them higher, right into your panties. You pressed your body against his and you could feel him being hard.

"I hate you," he said curtly, then picked you up with effortless strength. Two minutes and you were in a secluded part of the alley, and he was setting you down on an old bench. He bent down, keeping eye contact with you all the while.

"You're so fucking beautiful," he whispered, placing a kiss on your neck. You moaned, but didn't move. He dragged your lips from your collarbones to the edge of your neckline, and pulled the dress down.

Without waiting a beat, he took off your bra and kissed your nipples.

"Bucky," you whined, and all he did was bite down harder. He let his hand drag down and pushed two fingers right into your pussy. The pain was immediate and pleasurable. His pace was slow and you started grinding on his fingers for more friction.

"Shush," he said, taking off his fingers and setting you up straight. "Do you want me to fuck you, Y/N?"

"Yes," you said, moving in for a kiss. He turned his head away.

"Beg."

"Fuck me Bucky, please." You moved your hand to his pants, and he looked like he might lose all control. A few seconds of unbuckling and he took you in his arms, pressing you down to the bench and spread your legs wide.

You were wet already, and the sight of his big, hard cock hadn't helped. You were dripping down your panties.

"Beg," he said again, taking off your panties and throwing them away.

"Please fuck me, James, fuck—" you gasped when he thrust his dick in you. A moment of holding onto his hand and he was fucking you like you were his. He leaned over and bit down on your neck. A kiss and a few sucking and you knew that was going to leave a mark.

You didn't care. You were being dicked out of your soul and you were taking every second of it.

Then it stopped. He pulled away from you, his dick still hard. You were confused to see that big smile on his face, even more so when he started zipping his pants.

"You left me three months ago," he said, straightening his hair. He leaned down to kiss your forehead. "Next time you think of me, I want you to think of me fucking you like you're my bitch. How having my hands on your throat was enough to make you wet."

Revenge. That's what it was?

"You wanted to fuck me to make me regret lying to you?" you asked breathlessly, feeling ashamed that it already worked.

Bucky smiled. "I wanted to fuck you for a whole lot reasons Y/N, but I also want you to knock on my door and apologize, preferably on your knees and begging. On all fours. I'd sacrifice the rest of the night to see that."

He pulled you up and put the dress on tidily. "Goodbye. And, you really do look beautiful."

Motherfucker, you thought to yourself as he left.

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commissions info

kofi

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes x you #sebastian stan #marvels #x reader #female reader #reader insert #bucky x you

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dominiquelucalover · 1 day ago

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Center of Danger | Dominique Luca x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Your Tuesday plans are put on hold when you're caught in the middle of a bank robbery, but as if that didn't put a damper on your day, going into labor in the middle of it certainly did.

CW: fem!reader, pregnancy, labor, hostage situation, guns, death threats, death, blood, mild descriptions of violence, pre-established relationship. If any of these topics trigger you in any way, please do not read. Your wellbeing is so important.

A/N: I tried to make reader a behavioral analysis expert who works with S.W.A.T. but I don't know how well I incorporated that. ( not me trying to flex my Criminal Minds knowledge like a fucking nerd.) PS: I spent four straight hours writing this lol. and nother hour and a half proofreading and editing (and adding a whole 'nother fucking thing to the end of this jfc) (I'm having fun lol)

Your day had been going well. You went to one of your final doctors appointments before you were supposed to have the baby, you'd grabbed some of the last minute things on your baby list, and you were going over what you needed from the grocery store while you stood in line at the bank. It was one of those errands that you couldn't put off doing anymore, especially with the impending birth of your child, so it seemed easy enough to get out of the way today while you were already out and about. Unfortunately, a group of greedy, grubby-handed robbers decided to ruin those plans.

You couldn't lay on the ground like they wanted everyone to, which already irritated not only them but you too. The floor was uncomfortable as you sat against one of the desks while everyone else was forced to lay face down and not to move. It was a tense situation as the three robbers made the tellers fill their bags, one you wished would be over soon.

However, the robbers had already fucked up and got themselves stuck in the bank. A teller had sounded the silent alarm and in a fit of anger, one of the criminals shot the security officer dead. Another one freaked out because "no one was supposed to die" and seemed to be on the verge of tears, but it was hard to tell because they were all wearing plastic Halloween masks. This was turning out to be the worst bank robbery you had ever witnessed, not that you had ever actually witnessed a bank robbery but you had studied plenty.

"Shit, man! The cops are here!" one of the robbers all but growled. He turned his weapon on the tellers with a nasty glare from behind his ghoul mask. "Which one of you sounded the alarm, huh? Fucking idiots!"

He shot at the ceiling suddenly, causing people to scream. You jumped and held your belly protectively, taking a deep breath as you tried to stay calm. However, your blood pressure was already up and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. The baby was kicking, sensing your distress, and you rubbed your bump in an attempt to soothe them.

"Cool it!" another of the robbers chastised his buddy, seething with anger behind his devil mask. "You're gonna need those bullets. So chill the fuck out."

"I'll do as I damn-well please," the first one said, then walked away, seeming to look for another way out.

The freaked-out robber stayed out of the conversation, seeming more subservient to the other two. He just stood the to side, watching over the hostages like he'd been told to, hiding behind his clown mask. You knew from that if any of them were going to break first, it was him.

As things around you began to calm down, you leaned your head back on the desk and took even, deep breaths. Of course, the quiet couldn't last long.

A couple were whispering to each other a few feet away and as soon as the robber with the devil mask, who seemed to be the leader, caught wind of it, he stomped over and pointed his gun at the woman's head. "I said to keep quiet! You want me to blow her head off?"

"No, please! We'll be quiet!" the man begged.

"I should make sure you stay quiet for good," the leader said, teasing the trigger of his gun. The grin of his devil mask made the scene more unsettling.

At that moment, you felt a sharp pain in your belly and let out a heavy groan. All eyes turned to you and watched as you withered in your spot. You were caught between pain and confusion, hoping that you weren't going into labor. You weren't due for another three and a half weeks. Your baby couldn't come now, this was the worst-case scenario. Anywhere else but in the middle of a robbery would have been ideal.

The devil walked over to see what you were doing, letting out a frustrated groan. "Oh, for fuck's sake! Give me a break!"

You looked up at him as the contraction passed, irritated and not ready to give birth. You spat, "Sorry to ruin your parade!"

He pointed his gun at you but the clown ran over and pushed it down. "Dude, you can't shoot a pregnant lady!"

The leader looked at him, then walked away muttering under his breath about how this was going terribly and how the last thing he needed was a baby to mess it up further.

It was about that time one of the phones rang and he walked over to answer it, knowing it was the police outside. It was about time, but you thought that perhaps they needed a negotiator to show up, which was unfortunate for you. A few minutes earlier and you might not be in the early stages of labor right now.

"What do you want?" Devil asked brashly.

You couldn't hear who was on the other side of the call, sitting too far away. You watched closely, hoping your boyfriend was outside with his team. It would be the perfect fantasy if he came to your rescue; besides, they were the best S.W.A.T. team in LA. What were the chances that they weren't here?

The phone call only lasted about two minutes before the leader hung up having made no demands. He laughed, shaking his head. "They think I'm an idiot."

The ghoul came back into the room and grunted. "They've got the whole place surrounded! They probably have snipers ready to kill us if we walk outta here. What do we do?"

Devil thought for a moment, then gestured with his gun at the people laying on the floor. "Put them in front of the doors and windows. Use them as a shield. They won't shoot in here with hostages in the way and it'll give us time to think."

His accomplices nodded and started getting people up, guiding them with their guns to form a line around the center of the bank. The patrons followed orders dutifully and linked their arms together, their lives put further in danger by their captors.

The leader came over to you and grabbed your arm, but the clown came over and asked him what he was doing. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting her off her ass."

"She's pregnant, man," he said, his voice a little more confident than before. He didn't seem to like that you were there at all, but as soon as his bossy friend came near you, he jumped to your aid. "Just leave her alone."

"You questioning me?"

He seemed to think on his feet. "I'm just saying, if the cops know we got a pregnant lady in here, thye're gonna get more aggressive. They'll try harder to get in here. Think about it, man."

"Kid's got a point," Ghoul said, looking over. "She'll be our secret weapon."

Devil looked between them and shook his head, letting you go. "Fine, maybe you're right... this time. We'll see."

He walked away to make sure the wall of hostages was cooperating, looking out the glass doors and windows at the front of the bank to evaluate what his next move should be. He took slow, calculated steps, taunting the police and the hostages at the same time.

Another contraction hit you and you whimpered, holding your stomach and slightly curling up. The clown crouched down beside you, looking at you with wide eyes from behind his mask. He stuttered, "A-are you okay?"

"Do I look okay?" you asked through clenched teeth. He looked down, almost ashamed for asking the question. You would feel bad if he wasn't hiding his identity and holding a large automatic gun on his back. Once the pain passed, you breathed out. "How old are you?"

"Doesn't matter," he answered.

"Sure it does. They called you kid," you told him, making him look up at you. "Means they don't respect you."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. He stood up and walked away, but looked back at you as he did. That was how you knew you did it. You planted that seed of doubt in his mind.

The next call came in not that long after, but Devil made one of the hostages answer the phone, a terrified older man who had been there to help his son open a bank account. He instructed the man on what to say, telling the officer on the other end that they wanted an armored car and a one way trip out of the country for the three of them, all within the next hour. It wasn't possible, you thought, which you were sure was what they were told before the hostage was made to hangup the phone with the promise that if their demands weren't met by that time, someone else was going to die.

The time seemed to pass sluggishly. You wouldn't have known it was going by at all were it not for the contractions picking up speed. You had read all your books about pregnancy and birth, so you knew that wasn't a great sign in this particular situation. Your labor seemed to be fast approaching, but you didn't want it to be. Were this in line with your birth plan, that would be ideal. However, a speedy birth was not on your agenda for the day.

"Tick-tock, tick-tock," Devil taunted as he walked the line of hostages again. He'd been pacing behind them to needlessly remind them of his presence. It was cruel and having to watch him was intense. "Five more minutes."

"What if they get us what we want?" Clown asked, looking at his friend.

The leader shook his head. "They won't get us what we want. They'll try to bribe us with less than what we asked for just to get us outside."

"So you're just gonna kill one?"

"Yup."

A woman in line cried out at hearing this and she was snapped at to shut up by the ghoul. He held a gun to her back and laughed at her terror as she tried to muffle her cries.

Clown watched, clutching his gun to his chest, before looking at Devil. "Wasn't killing the guard enough?"

"Not until we get out of here with the money and our lives," the leader answered, then shoved him. "Now shut up and do your job."

You watched as the 'kid' shook his head and walked away, listening to the devil without another question. Paying attention to everything else around you was the only thing keeping you from going insane from the pain. It was more persistent now and you felt the baby had moved lower. It was getting harder to keep your cool as all you wanted to do was yell and kick your feet at these guys who had forced you into early labor.

You were trying not to think about the time passing, watching Devil pace back and forth behind the line. He was looking at them, gun pointed at their backs. Then, suddenly, another sharp contraction shot through you and all you could do was scream as he shot a woman in the back.

She would have dropped to the floor were it not for the two people on either side of her whose arms were linked with hers. They were told to drop her as she cried and writhed. Then Devil went to stand over her, watching her squirm on the ground and bleed, before lifting his gun and shooting her in the head. Everything stopped and grew quiet except for your cries. They echoed off the high walls of the bank, violently reminding everyone there that life came with pain.

Sweat and tears slipped down your face as people were forced to listen to you until you quieted down. The contraction passed and you were slumped against the desk once more.

The devil turned to Clown and motioned toward you. "Go make sure she's alive."

"Okay," he said and walked over to you. He put his gun on his back and crouched beside you, using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the sweat from your forehead. "You're, uh, you're getting closer to, um, having the baby, aren't you?"

You nodded, keeping your eyes forward, watching the way Devil made two hostages move the woman's body closer to the door. They were going to use her as a block in front of the door incase S.W.A.T. came running in, which made you sick to your stomach. You'd seen a lot of malicious shit, but that was a new low.

The phone rang, but no one moved to answer it. Then the devil chuckled.

"Get her on her feet," he said, looking over at you and the 'kid.'

Clown puffed up his chest. "She can't possibly-"

Devil got angry. "Don't question me! Just do it!"

Clown looked at you apologetically and put an arm around your back and hoisted you up. You cried out as you felt the baby shift lower. It was hard to walk, awkward really. But he held you up and guided you to the phone as it rang. Just as you reached the desk, it stopped, and you wanted to scream but managed to hold it in. You knew they would call back. They had to.

The clown leant you against the desk and brought its accompanying chair over to you. He helped you sit in it as his buddies scolded him, but he didn't argue back or justify his actions then. Only when you were seated did he turn to them and bark back.

"You're making a pregnant lady do all this shit when she's about to have a goddamn baby! What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled.

Devil got in his face. "I'm the one calling the shots around here! You do as I say, and if I want that fat bitch to answer the damn phone, she will, or she and that baby won't-"

"Oh, so you're gonna kill a lady and her baby?"

"Wait a minute!" Ghoul interrupted, looking at the devil, "Who died and put you in charge?"

"I've been in charge, numbnuts!"

The argument would have continued on from there, but the phone rang. They all looked at your tired face and waited for you to comply with what Devil wanted. So, you did.

"Hello," you said.

The voice on the other end of the phone made you feel some relief as he said your name. It was Hondo. "Is that you?"

You didn't answer immediately, not wanting to put the robbers on edge or clue them in to anything.

He seemed to understand. "If you are who I think you are, say 'where's the car?' if you're not, say 'please help us.' Okay?"

"Where's the car?" you asked, eyes trained on the robbers. Devil nodded at you, seeming to like that you were apparently smart enough to understand the situation at hand - you got right to the point of things and had been paying attention. Little did he know...

"We're gonna get you out of there, okay? We're working on it," Hondo told you.

"Well work on it faster," you told him, wincing in pain. You held your belly with your free hand. You kept your mouth shut about being in labor, knowing the robbers didn't want that detail known to anyone outside. "They've already killed someone else."

"We know, we saw," he said, letting out a regretful sigh. "But our eyes can only see in through the windows. The camera system is down. How many people are left inside with you?"

You looked around the room, trying to count the number of hostages, but it was harder to concentrate on something like that. "I don't know."

"What did he say?" Devil asked.

"They want to know how many people are alive."

Ghoul huffed. "Why does he want to know?"

"I don't know," you groaned, feeling another contraction rearing its ugly head. You did know, but there was no way you could strategize what the right thing to say to them was at that moment. "They-they probably- ahh!"

Hondo said your name several times, keeping his voice even. "Talk to me, mama. What's going on in there?"

Devil came over and seethed at you, "Tell him to get us what we want or we're gonna kill another person. Then hang up."

You spoke through the pain. "Get them what they want-"

"Are you in labor?" Hondo asked, hearing the strain in your voice.

"Or they're going to kill again," you said. "Please, please hurry."

Ghoul took the phone from your hand shook, slamming it into the holder. He watched you as you grabbed the arms of the chair, digging your nails into the hard wood. You scraped it and he shook his head. "Pregnant people are weird," he mumbled.

He and the devil moved on, talking to each other about what to do next. They began to argue about it but it was short lived as they parted ways. Ghoul slammed his fist on a desk and stomped away to try again at finding a plan-b escape. Devil leaned on a desk out of view of the windows, near you, and waited.

Clown stayed with you and talked you through the contraction. His voice wavered with fear and nervousness, seemingly never been in a situation like this before, as far as pregnancy went at the very least. Once it passed, he wiped your forehead again. "What-what's going to happen if you give birth in here?"

You looked at him, unsure yourself. "Well, there will be a baby in here and we'll both need immediate medical attention. If at that point they know about that, S.W.A.T. might just do anything to get in here."

Now that Hondo knew you were in here, there was more pressure on him to get inside and ensure your safety. You knew he wasn't going to tell Luca that you were one of the hostages because it would cloud his judgement, damned be the third generation S.W.A.T. officer that he was. His girlfriend and unborn child were in the center of danger and he'd do anything to get you out of there.

Clown got you water and helped you drink it as you continued to wallow in pain. As you sat there, you knew the situation was dire. You could see out some of the windows, seeing S.W.A.T. officers gearing up. You knew that sooner or later, they were going to come inside. You also saw an armored car pulling up, but it was a great distance away from the doors.

Ghoul came back, a little bit of a skip in his step. "They got our car! Let's go!"

"Wait!" Devil said, standing from his position and walking up behind the hostages. He took a man from them by putting his arm around his neck and pointing his gun into his side. They slowly made their way to the windows so he could peer out. He seethed. "They're trying to lure us out."

When he got back to the safe zone, the devil scratched his head, clearly deep in thought. He knew they were in deep, and with your timely reminders about the impending birth of your child, their odds of getting out of here was getting slimmer and slimmer.

"Wait for them to call," he said, turning to his friends. "We tell them we're going to take a hostage with us to ensure our escape."

"Dude, they got the fucking car, why do we gotta wait?" Ghoul asked.

"Because as soon as we step anywhere near those windows, they're gonna gun us down," Devil said, shoving him. "This is why I'm in charge, because you don't think!"

"I think better than you!" the ghoul yelled. "It was my idea to come here, remember?"

"And look at where that got us! You could of picked any other bank, but it had to be this big fancy one in the middle of town!"

"The cameras are out! They can't see in here, dimwit!"

You were about to yell at them to shut up when the phone rang. Devil looked at you and nodded. As you picked up the phone, Ghoul tried to continue the argument, but the devil shoved him away and told him to be quiet.

"Hello," you said.

Hondo sighed with relief at hearing your voice. "Say 'what do you want?' if you're okay. Say anything else if not."

"What do you want?" you asked.

"Tell the brothers we have their car ready for them," he said, which peaked your interest. You looked at the robbers in front of you and it clicked. Their arguing and dynamics made sense now.

They were brothers.

"Your car is ready," you told them.

Ghoul leaned against the desk in front of you. "Tell him we want it closer!"

Devil shoved him away again. "And that we're taking a hostage with us, so if they shoot at us, they'll be killing the next innocent person."

You took a deep breath and nodded. "They want the car closer so that they can get in with a hostage."

Hondo grunted. "Of course they'd try that trick. Listen to me, okay, we're not gonna let that happen. But tell them that we have to make room to move the car, so it'll be a minute."

"Okay," you said and sighed, rubbing your belly. You were in the last stretch of contraction. You could just feel it. "They have to make room for the car to get closer, so it'll be a few minutes before you can leave."

Devil didn't say anything, only took the phone from you and hung it up. "Get ready to get out of here, boys. Make the hostages take our bags to the door."

Then he walked away.

Ghoul took control of that mini mission, bossing two of the men in line to move and hustle to get their bags full of money to the door. They dropped them off and promptly got back in line, seeing the robber's finger ever-present on the trigger of his gun.

You were leaning forward on the desk, head laying on your arms as you whined and tried to breath deeply. You tried to hold your legs closed, preventing the progression of labor in anyway you could. You cursed having worn a dress today. You tried to think about anything else but where you where in that moment and what was happening. You tried to put yourself at home, in your baby's nursery that you and Luca had spent the last few weeks putting together and decorating. It helped distract you for a few minutes until more yelling broke the illusion.

Looking up, you saw Devil and Ghoul arguing about which hostage to take with them, which was the stupidest thing you had ever seen. It made you angry as you sat there, in labor, having to listen to this. Devil wanted to take you but Ghoul wanted to take anyone else. You were at your breaking point.

However, Clown snubbed out your lit fuse. He came with more water and helped you sit up so he could bring the cup to your lips. You sipped it, thankful that he was the kindest of the brothers. From what you had observed, he had to be the baby of the three and didn't want to hurt anyone there. He was there to rob a bank, not kill anyone, and each time you were in pain, he came to your side. He took care of you as much as he knew how. Something inside of him was redeemable, you thought so at least.

"They're both idiots," you whispered to him.

He hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah... I can't believe I agreed to do this. I should have never let them talk me into this."

You nodded. "Yeah, that's true."

He leaned against the desk, staying close to you as you both listened to the argument devolve, once more, into who is in charge. It was beginning to sound like they were a broken record, but as they continued the back and forth, you heard how similar their voices were, how similarly they spoke, and you could picture them as brothers more and more. It was in contrast to the 'kid', who seemed a little more mild mannered and quiet. He only spoke against the other two when he was passionate about whatever he was fighting them for, be it the lives of the people there or your wellbeing. It made you wonder how he was a part of this family.

Suddenly, everything came to a head.

"I told you to stop questioning me!" someone yelled, followed by a round of rapid pops from a gun.

You couldn't process anything for a moment, stomach tightening and making double over, leaning onto the desk again. You held your belly, screaming with the other scared people trapped with you. The moment passed quickly, but you couldn't look up.

"Bobby, what did you do?" Clown yelled.

The devil, Bobby, turned and criticized his kid brother. "Shut up! Don't say my name, you idiot!"

"But-"

"I said shut up!" he yelled and pointed the gun at him. "Now stop asking stupid questions or you're next."

You peeked up from your arm, seeing how far Devil had devolved. In the beginning, he was semi-organized (given how shittily the robbery was planned, there was at least some effort on his behalf), but the stress of the situation and his brother's mouth had finally snapped his last nerve.

Clown backed down and slowly sank to the ground beside your chair. Bobby began pacing again.

The phone range and you answered it.

"What's happening in there?" Hondo asked.

You could feel the devil's eyes on you. "You need to hurry."

"What happened?" he said again, fearing the worst.

You let out a breath. "Someone else is dead."

"Tell them we're going as fast as we can," he said.

You looked over at Bobby. "They're going as fast as they can. Please don't shoot anyone else."

"I'll shoot whoever I damn-well please," he said and took the phone from you, putting it to his ear. "You listen here, buddy. You don't tell me what to do, got it? Now, if that car isn't at the front door in five minutes, I'm killing everyone in here."

He slammed the phone into the holder before ripping it off of the desk and throwing it across the room. He stomped off, going back to his look out position from behind the line of people. He watched the doors impatiently, seemingly unbothered by the crying people before him. Their anguish brought him no joy, unlike his now-dead brother, as it was obvious that the people were merely pawns in his game. He didn't care about them whatsoever.

You laid your head down and whispered, "He's gonna kill you."

Clown made a worried noise in the back of his throat. "No-no he won't. He-he's my brother..."

"You blew his cover. Everyone here knows his name and it won't be hard to track down a Bobby in an armored car," you said, pausing to moan and shift your seated position. You couldn't hold your legs together anymore, knowing it was dangerous. It was a feeble attempt anyway. "He's already angry and you're the only one left brave enough to stand up to him."

He whined. "I-I'm really not."

"Yeah, you are," you told him, hoping to break through to him. "You've protected me from him this whole time. That took a lot of courage, I know it did."

"But... he's my brother... The only family I have left now," he said.

You looked at him, meeting his sad eyes past the mask. "Family wouldn't put you in this position."

He stared into your eyes for a moment, then looked away in contemplation. He didn't say anything for a moment, which felt like an eternity, and then he looked at you again. "What's your name?"

"Why does it matter now?" you asked.

"Because if I'm gonna die, I'd like to know the name of the lady I protected," he said.

You didn't understand what that meant, it could mean many things, and as you felt the pain getting worse, you couldn't think very well anyway. You told him your name between heavy breathes.

He gently wiped your forehead again, talking you through the pain. Then he took off his mask, revealing his face to you, and you were saddened to see how young he was. There was no doubt he was in his early twenties but he still had a baby face and the biggest eyes you'd ever seen a man have, giving him a deer in the headlights look.

"I'm Eric."

Then he stood up and moved away from you, walking over to another desk quietly. He moved out of your sight and you couldn't move much anymore, too tired to do much of anything as it were. Despite the situation, all you wanted to do was get this over with.

Then, there was a loud thud from where Eric had disappeared to.

Bobby turned around and marched over to you. "What the hell are you doing?"

You groaned, looking up at him. "Nothing."

He seethed again, "I've about had enough of you and you're whining."

"I'm about to push a watermelon out of me, what do you want from me?"

"I want you to shut u-" BANG!

He fell to the ground in front of you, his blood splattering on the desk. Looking over, Eric had his gun trained on his brother from behind the desk a few feet away, eerily still, like he was trained for this. It made your heart ache because your stomach was already twisted. What kind of life had this kid had that led him and his brothers to this?

As he walked over to you, he yelled at the other hostages, "Go! Get out of here! Go! Get out!" They listened without hesitance and ran screaming and crying for the door.

He crouched down beside his brother's body and took the gun off of him, sliding it across the floor. He then took his own gun and push it to follow. Then he turned to you, "Are you okay?"

You nodded. "More or less."

Eric couldn't say another word before S.W.A.T. came into the bank with guns at the ready. They aimed at him and he put his arms up, already on his knees. You screamed in pain and he turned to look at you, making Hondo yell at him to stay still, but he didn't seem to hear him. If he did, he didn't listen and reached out to you.

He took your hand and let you squeeze it as the pain made you sob.

You managed to cry out, "He's unarmed!"

The team got closer and saw the truth in your words. They pulled his hand from yours despite your tight grip and handcuffed him, getting him onto his feet. While Chris and Street patted him down, Luca and Hondo came to your side.

"Fucking hell, I could kill this guy for all this," Luca grunted, clearly angry. He took your hand into his.

You shook your head. "He's a hero, believe me."

"How is he-?" Hondo asked, but was cut off by your guttural scream.

Deacon shook his head as he watched. "We need to get her out of here. Now."

The paramedics came in with their gurneys and attended to the bodies on the floor, but by the time it was decerned that they were beyond saving, everyone was busy and there was no room for you anywhere. Luca picked you up and carried you outside in hopes of finding an ambulance to take you to the nearest hospital, but they were all tending to the injured who had run outside earlier.

Tan opened up the back doors of Black Betty and called out to Luca, ushering the team over. Street helped get you inside while Tan and Chris ran to the side doors to get in. Once you were laying on the floor, Luca behind you and holding you close, everyone else piled in and closed everything up, turning on the lights and sirens.

You were screaming the whole time, crying as it became too much. Your body was telling you to push and that was all you could think about doing. Luca was trying to soothe you, telling you that you would be at the hospital soon and that it would be okay. But your baby had other ideas, they had waited long enough.

"The baby's coming!" you cried out.

"We know, we're gonna-"

"No! Now! The baby's coming right now!"

You let out another scream as you pushed. Deacon slide onto the floor and pulled your legs up onto the seats on either side of you, pushing your dress away. He ripped your underwear to get a look at how things were progressing and then looked up at Luca, Street, and Hondo, "She's right. She's crowning."

Hondo called out to the front, "Tan, pull over!"

Luca held your hands as you rested you head back against his abdomen, crying as your body guided you. Everything you'd read and come to understand was nothing compared to the way your body told you what to do.

Black Betty came to a stop on the side of the road, but it only took three more powerful pushes that the ended the pressure. You ached, but the pain was lessened dramatically. You opened your eyes to see Deacon picking up your baby, who was a little chubby for a newborn and rather long, aka big like their daddy.

Deacon gently held them and patted their back, getting them to cry and clear their airways. He smiled at them and happily said, "Welcome to the world, Baby Luca."

Street rummaged around for anything to wrap the baby in, only for Chris to pass a fresh shirt to him from the front. He thanked her and helped Deacon wrap your little angel up to keep warm before they were laid on your chest. You took her, Luca's arm coming under yours to support you both.

"It's a girl," Deacon told you and you smiled. He smiled too, knowing that joy and pride well. "Congratulations."

Tan put Black Betty in gear and let everyone know he was going to start driving again, as you and your daughter needed to be taken to the hospital. After that, no one said anything. They just let you and Luca have your moment with your daughter.

Luca couldn't even speak. He had spent the day tirelessly trying to save hostages from a bad situation that only got worse as the minutes passed by, only to learn from Hondo that you were one of them minutes before they stormed in there. He ran to you as soon as he could and wanted to burn the robbers to the ground with how angry he was because you were caught in the middle of their idiocy. Then, as soon as he saw you were in labor, he was scared, too. However, now, all that stress and anger and fear was erased. You were safe in his arms with your daughter. He had a daughter! He was nothing my happy.

Street inevitably ruined the precious moment, but lightened it at the same time as he broke the silence. "I can't believe you gave birth in Black Betty."

The team didn't react until you laughed, which let them know they could laugh too.

"I'm just glad it wasn't in the bank," you said, the ache still in your heart for the people who were lost and the kid brother who had saved you. You looked at Hondo as you remembered him. "I wanna be there for Eric. He really did save those of us that he could."

Hondo didn't question you, because you were tired and hormonal and he knew you knew what you were talking about. He just nodded and said, "I'll talk to the DA, but for now, you just worry about that cutiepie you got, okay?"

"Okay," you said.

When you got to the hospital, you were taken to a room immediately. Not only because you were wheeled in with a baby in your arms, but because you had a team of S.W.A.T. officers escorting you. Luca went back with you and ensured you and your baby daughter were okay.

Despite being three and a half weeks early, she was healthy. She would need to stay a few extra days for observation, but that was okay with you. Both you and Luca wanted the best for her, so you knew she might need a little extra watching over because of her early arrival and the stress you were under, and you needed to recover as well. It would work out, you were sure.

Once that was cleared up, Luca sat beside you with your daughter asleep in her basinet at your bedside. He watched her with nothing but love in his eyes. He'd only been talking about how excited he was for her to 'hurry up and get here' in the months leading up to this moment. He hadn't cared if she were a boy or a girl, as you'd left finding out to be a surprise at the birth, because he was going to love his kid no matter what. You knew he was going to be an amazing father.

You watched him, tired as all hell, but couldn't fall asleep. Even after the day you'd had, you laid awake on some pain killers with a soft smile on your lips. "I love you."

Luca turned to you and chuckled. "I love you, too." He reached out for your hand and squeezed it gently. "You are the most amazing woman I've ever met, you know that?"

"You only tell me that at least once a day," you laughed softly, careful not to wake your sleeping angel.

"Well, I mean it so much this time," he told you, bringing your hand up to kiss your knuckles. "You're so strong and smart and brave. What you went through today was a lot and you powered through it like a champ. And you see the good in people even in situations when it's hard to see anything but bad."

"What can I say?" you asked, not really sure what there was to say. You just read the situation like it was. And it helped you and several other people get through it. "I'm just a woman."

"Nah, you're more than that," he said and leaned in closer, kissing your head. Your eyes closed and this time they were too heavy to lift back open. "You're Superwoman."

"If you say so," you mumbled. You then fell into a dreamless sleep, getting the much needed rest your deserved.

Lowkey, I'm now attached to the backstory I accidentally gave Bobby, Ghoul, and Eric, so here it is if anyone cares. Bobby, Ghoul - who's real name is Terry, and Eric were born in a less than ideal home. Raised by a worked to the bone mother and a father who had lengthy arrest record, they were doomed from the start. Bobby and Terry were closer in age to each other than either of them were to Eric, often getting into trouble and leaving him out. When they weren't getting suspended from school, they were pushing Eric around metaphorically and literally. They would often use Eric as a punching bag when they weren't getting into fights with each other. They mother wasn't around a lot as she worked multiple jobs to keep a roof over their heads. When she was around, she was frustrated and tired, often getting angry at them for little problems like leaving their shoes out for her to trip over and bigger issues like getting kicked out of school. Their father was in and out of jail for most of their lives, but when he was around, he taught them how to shoot, steal, and hot wire cars. Averse to these activities, Eric was once again the odd one out and often the target of his brothers' criticism. Their father often got drunk and ranted to his sons about his drawbacks in life, often blaming others. Due to this unstable environment, it was no wonder the brothers turned out the way they did. Bobby followed in their father's footsteps, often helping their old man with his criminal endeavors when he could. After their father's untimely death at the hands of a homeowner protecting himself after he broke into the house, Bobby was angry. He went on a bend of drinking and crime, ending him up in jail where he made friends. Once he was out, he started robbing houses and small business. Terry at least finished high school and got a job as a mechanic, which was stable enough for a while. He started to doing shotty work for cheap and got fired once his boss found out. He did a number of odd jobs after that. Eric was on the right track but couldn't catch a break. With a grant, he was able to start college but had to leave after his mother became ill. He was almost done with college when he dropped out to take care of her, but it was fruitless. He didn't blame his mom but rather the bad hand life had dealt him, but didn't grow very bitter. He got a shitty job and went about his life. However, their mother's death is what brought the brothers back together. It was several months after the funeral that Bobby came around with the idea to rob a bank. Terry was crashing on Eric's couch at the time and liked the idea, immediately liking the idea of free money and getting to go anywhere they wanted. The two oldest brothers talked Eric into it, telling him they could go live their dream lives and get out of the shambles they called a life. Plus, they were brothers, the only family he had left, was he really gonna left them do it alone?

And yeah, that's what I got for the bank robbing brothers. If it doesn't make any sense, I came up with all of this over the span of 8 hours and little to no sleep.

#pregnant reader #tw birth #tw pregnancy #tw violence #tw death #swat 2017 #swat cbs #swat x reader #swat #dominique luca #dominique luca x reader #swat luca #luca x reader

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