#it is the fault of whoever made those attachments but also like. you need to assess your equipment before you use it on people

[solomons-poison]

Unpredictability

Chevalier Michel x reader

: ̗̀➛ A/N: OK I had to do just a little bit more with the Chev thoughts of having a daughter, connected to my headcanon post here, so just have this little slice of life thing. Papa Chevalier has a very special place in my heart ❤️

: ̗̀➛ Warnings: fem reader, reader is the mother of Chev's daughter and queen of Rhodolite; just some sweet fluff mostly in Chevalier's perspective; Chev is likely OOC for a bit lol; not proofread~

: ̗̀➛ Word count: 2193

Chevalier had a knack for predictions. His perception had always been extraordinary, able to pick up the smallest of clues from his environment and the people around him to know what would happen next. It aided him in his development as a prince, working with his brothers to keep the kingdom running smoothly as his father’s health declined, and it helped him now that he was the king of that same kingdom. He was a monster on the battlefield, strategically taking down enemies with the ease of a beast, and was equally a monster in the courts, always knowing what information was needed where and who to deal with.

When it came to you, however, you were his blind spot.

No amount of strategy and foresight could have prepared him for the way your fates intertwined, or the way you captured his very heart in the palm of your hand. A younger Chevalier would have scoffed at such a notion, that he had the human emotion to even fall in love to begin with when he was most aptly labeled as the "Brutal Beast" by every possible noble in the court. But of course all it took was the wisdom and pure heart of Belle to look deep inside and find the truth. Looking back on the events leading up to the discovery of these feelings, once he met you, he realized it couldn't have gone any other way.

You managed to surprise him at every turn, with your unending love, your wisdom, your thoughtfulness and devotion. That's what made you fit to be his queen, someone that helped him bring out and connect with his human side. The day he married you was something he never could have dreamed of in a hundred years, and even much less so, the tiny babbling bundle you delivered into your lives a year later.

Now he watched as his tiny daughter, three years old and full of toddler mischief, ran through the rose gardens of the palace at alarming speed, eager to see you again after being separated during a diplomatic trip– and she wasn’t the only one that was eager. He could just make out the top of her head, her hair color the exact same as yours and bouncing along as she moved.

That was something he was thankful for, the way his daughter resembled you in so many ways. Her hair color, the shape of her face, even her personality and stubbornness was coming to resemble you too, and he had no doubt the similarities would continue as she grew older. She was also attached to books the same, though honestly he was just as much at fault for that as his queen. However, the one thing that differed was that she had inherited his eyes, a strong clear blue that somehow looked right into your soul.

The little princess was beginning to learn how to use those ice blue eyes to her advantage, much to his amusement. When something didn't go her way, she'd glare at whoever was responsible in no dissimilar way to his own until they cracked from the pressure. It was no end of stress to Sariel or his brothers, realizing there was a little Chev 2.0 in the making. She'd even turned that icy gaze onto him, too, managing to surprise him.

Anyone that looked at her knew immediately whose daughter it was, and something about that sentiment, creating this tiny human so clearly made up of his traits and yours together, warmed him up inside.

Getting lost in his reverie, he quickly lost sight of his small child and hastened his pace. The full bushes made it difficult to keep his eye on her, even with his keen eye and sense of danger, so outside excursions were often accompanied by extra help such as the servants or even Lucien on rare occasion. Thankfully, that wasn’t necessary today as you were the one waiting at the end of their journey through the garden, and the thick foliage made the path clear, leading up to a gazebo.

Just as the image of your face came to mind, he could hear a loud exclamation from up ahead, and turned a corner in time to watch his daughter run into your waiting arms.

“Mama!”

You couldn’t help but grunt from the force with which you were tackled, but your arms wrapped around your daughter as she gripped you tightly.

“Hi, my love! I've missed you,” you said, pulling back to kiss the top of her head. You noticed the missing presence of your husband, glancing around before looking back at your child. “I’m so happy to see you again. Where’s your papa at, can you tell me?”

“Papa is slow,” your daughter mumbled, the excitement of seeing you lost already as she caught sight of the butterflies flitting about from bloom to bloom behind you.

Her wording made you giggle against your better judgment. Your husband could be described as many things, but you were certain the word “slow” was not one of them. But almost as if summoned, his platinum blond head came into view over the bountiful rose bushes, and it was as if all was suddenly right with the world— even if he did have a slight frown on his face.

“Little rabbit, I’ve told you not to run ahead in the gardens,” he sighed, entering the gazebo and patting his daughter’s head roughly. Instantly, her attention turned back to him, two pairs of ocean blue eyes meeting briefly before she looked away.

“‘M sorry, papa, I won’t do it again,” she replied, reaching out to hug his leg, gripping the fabric of his pants with tiny hands. Anyone else that saw this scene would expect the King to be cold and unfeeling in response, but instead he sighed, patting her hair awkwardly without a word.

You watched all this quietly, unable to fight the smile that made its way onto your face. The method of his comforting reminded you much of the early days of your relationship in which he did the same, unsure how to touch you or perhaps even afraid to hurt you. Chevalier may have been called the Brutal Beast for his actions, but he was really more of a beast for the way he was unused to loving human touch.

Over time, he’d eventually grown better and more confident with touching you, a way to express his unending love for you that he couldn’t express with his serious and less-than-romantic words. But it all seemed to revert the moment your daughter was born.

You remembered the very first time he had held her. All his brothers and the palace physician had waited with bated breath, and it was clear in Chevalier’s expression that he had his own reservations about what he was about to do. How could hands used for killing, hands used for exterminating the threats to the kingdom and defending the borders, possibly be suitable for holding that of his small, innocent child? The moment his daughter was placed in his arms, his discomfort was extremely clear –to you, at least– arms frozen stiff in an attempt to be gentle to the tiny creature he'd been entrusted with. But it was this same discomfort and worried reaction that showed you just how much he actually cared about her, and about you, too.

The memory brought a smile to your face, which was met by a strong, familiar poke to the forehead.

“Do not let your head get caught in the clouds, Rabbit,” Chevalier said. His voice was chastising, but the smirk gracing his lips was soft, sweet, making your heart thump.

Chevalier caught sight of one of his brothers out of the corner of his eye, a familiar flop of lilac hair waiting just beyond an ivy-covered arch by the gazebo. It reminded him how, as his daughter grew and came to differentiate his brothers, an unfortunate attachment had grown to a particular somebody. Much to his dismay, his daughter seemed to like her uncle Clavis the most, often shouting his name and using her stubby legs to seek him out when she could, and the feeling was mutual with the resident troublemaker. And Clavis delighted in this fact, often rubbing that in his older brother’s face and using it as an excuse to irritate him at every turn.

But today, Chevalier would use it to his advantage if it meant having you to himself, at least for a little bit. He knelt down to eye level with his child, peering into her familiar ice blue eyes.

“Little rabbit, I want to speak to your mother,” he said. He turned in the direction of his brother, pointing to direct his daughter’s attention in the same direction as well. “Why don’t you go see your uncle Clavis? He’s waiting for you in the gardens.”

His daughter’s eyes widened to a comical size, filled with excitement. Her head whipped around to search, despite Chevalier’s finger pointing the way, but thankfully, Clavis was accompanied by his trusty attendant, Cyran, who popped his head out at the perfect time to catch her attention. His shock of red hair made him look like a human rose, against the background of the gardens.

A shrill shriek filled the air, causing you and Chevalier to wince simultaneously. “Unca Cwavis and Cyan!” Your daughter was still having trouble pronouncing her L’s and R’s, but the men didn't mind. Chevalier watched as his daughter shot forward, “Cyan” quickly bowing to Chevalier in greeting before catching the girl in his arms. As he watched the two leave, he felt an arm slip through his and turned to look at you.

“I’ve missed you too, King Chevalier. I’m so glad to see you look okay,” you said, your relief evident in your smile. “How was everything during the visit? Did everything go alright?”

Chevalier huffed at your questions. “Would I have returned so soon if things did not go well?”

Your face scrunched up for a moment, but you were used to Chevalier’s sass.

“I know, but I’m still allowed to worry about you,” you said, leading Chevalier over to a bench in the gazebo. “The people of Rhodolite know now what a kind King you are, but I can’t say the same about people in other countries. And I know you’re capable of handling many things, but I still don’t want you to get hurt. I’ll always wish for your safety and good health, can’t I wish that for my own husband?”

Chevalier took a moment to look at your face, eyes following the curve of your eyebrows and lips, the shape of your nose and jaw, all features he had long since memorized. Finally, he simply snorted, reaching a hand up to poke your forehead again as a smile made its way onto his lips.

“That is awfully sentimental, and also unnecessary,” he said. “I am not so weak as to be felled so easily. I will always return to my Rabbit in the end, so long as you wish to wait for me.”

Now who’s being sentimental? You didn’t dare say that to his face, although the caution was unnecessary, given the way he was always able to read your thoughts based on your expressions alone. His smile turned teasing, clearly knowing what you were thinking, but he didn’t comment further on it.

“Now, I believe you’re forgetting something,” he said expectantly.

He watched as your head tilted in confusion. The gears were clearly turning in your head to determine what he was waiting for, but it only took a moment for understanding to dawn on your face, your lips curving up into a warm smile.

“Welcome home, Chevalier,” you said, stretching up to place a soft kiss to his cheek.

His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you close as he returned the kiss to your lips, the taste of home filling his senses. He didn’t speak further, but he didn’t have to. Every ounce of his love was put into his kisses, and you gladly accepted it all.

Neither of you could have ever predicted being here, Chevalier least of all. His life had become a fairy tale on par with the romance books he enjoyed reading but never totally understood. No amount of strict noble education, military strategy, or the annoying words of a certain foolish brother could have told him that a future like this was possible. But as he held you close under cover of the gazebo, happy to finally have you in his arms once again, he realized he was okay with that. You came into his life in a whirlwind of drama and intrigue, turning his expectations around and introducing him to so many unfamiliar things and feelings, like fatherhood, yearning, and love. It wore on him, at times, not being able to see where his future was heading thanks to all the new things he was experiencing by your side. However, so long as it was with you, Chevalier supposed he was okay with a little bit of unpredictability.

Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

#chevalier x reader #chevalier michel #ikemen prince #ikepri chevalier #ikepri fluff #ikepri fanfic #the minx can write ✍️

[haroldhighballjordan]

The Batfamily and Water Apparatuses

It’s time for another random, nonsensical DC post. Here are my indisputable headcanons regarding the batfamily’s preferred method of hydration while on patrol.

Bruce: Does not drink water. Much to Alfred’s absolute horror, this man goes out on patrol with no water whatsoever. And then he gets back to the Batcave and drinks, like, a single glass of it before passing out.

Barbara: Definitely has something sleek and practical that can attach easily to her utility belt. Like those disposable travel water pouches that hikers use, so she can lighten her load every time she finishes one. Also makes it easy for her to be that Mom Friend TM and share, since she can just rip one off and hand it to someone when they need it. Looking at you, Brucie boy.

Dick: Goes on patrol with the most impractical sports bottle. You know, the ones with the straws? And I’m not talking about the flippy straws that don’t spill when you tip them over, I’m talking about those long plastic straws with the caps on them. This one, to be specific:

It’s extremely obnoxious and everyone gets super annoyed with him because he constantly forgets it on random rooftops while on patrol and insists they have to go back and find it.

Jason: He has been using the same plastic Ice Mountain water bottle for the past several years. Like, he is literally refilling a crumpled plastic water bottle with the hoses on the back of peoples houses and it horrifies absolutely everyone. One night Babs was like, “Jason, please just let me buy you a water bottle,” and he was like 🤨 “I have a water bottle?”

Cass: Shares from Jason’s plastic water bottle. Shares from everyone’s water bottles, in fact. I promise I’m not trying to be lazy with this one; I genuinely think she does this. And if whoever is on patrol with her for some reason forgets their water bottle, she takes it as a personal offense, because they forget their water bottle. Now she’s going to dehydrate, and it’s all your fault.

Tim: The only one smart enough to have something along the lines of a CamelBak hydration bladder built into his suit. However, it’s almost never filled with water and contains something completely counterproductive. Like, it’s probably filled with Hawaiian punch, or something equally as stupid.

Duke: Similar to Barbara in terms of practicality, he has, like, small sports bottles that attach to his belt. The ones that marathon runners use. However, he also forgets to fill them up and clip them to his belt half the time he goes out on patrol. It’s okay though, because he works the day shift. And the small businesses in Gotham are very used to preparing water for The Signal in case he stops by to rehydrate. He’s made good friends with his most popular stops.

Steph: Similar to Dick in obnoxious absurdity, but even less practical. She literally goes on patrol with a purple glitter Starbucks collectible cup. This one, to be specific:

Also leaves it everywhere, but gets it returned to her by random civilians because it has “SPOILER” bedazzled on the front.

Damian: Like Father, like Son - does not bring water on patrol. Years of training under the League of Assassins, Heir to the Demon’s Head, Damian Wayne al Ghul is more than capable of surviving extended periods of time with minimal hydration. His body is in peak survivalist condition and he will not be weighed down by unnecessary items such as water-bottles… (he shares with Dick when no one’s looking).

#batfam #batfamily #Bruce Wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #barbara gordon #cassandra cain #Stephanie brown #Duke Thomas #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake

[steelthroat]

For the astrology thing if you fancy it (and as I'm not much into astrology apologies if I've missed some deep significance in the labelling...)

2H ⇢ do you have any object that you like a little too much? what is it and why? (or just one that you like a lot; I'm not really sure what "a little too much" would mean in this context...)

7H ⇢ what do you consider green flags in a relationship?

Hello there!

No, don't worry, I have no clue about anything regarding astrology... my friends have tried to explain charts and other stuff to me at least 3 times, and I still don't know what an ascendant is, so...

Onto the answerssss

2h- I get so attached to many random objects and for the silliest reasons... like idk it's just like "this objects is mine, there are thousands or millions of these in the world but THIS is mine and is special" for example:

My mum's paper knife. It has a heart-shaped handle and since I was 3 I've been obsessed by it. Like idk when I was little I would imagine I was some kind of magical warrior and that was my special weapon or something. Btw it's mine now, my mum can't have it back, that's my special magical weapon.

My red gel pen, beautiful red and it's very good and CHEAP. Idk why but it's my favorite. I already made a post about it here rambling about a teacher who took it and then I took it back lol

My two stuffed animals (a polar bear and a weird looking husky) since I was little I decided they were boyfriends and they were my favorite plushies. Still have them, still good and cuddly

A plastic horse named Alessia (I broke both of her ears) she was my favorite toy since I was 2 and the main reason I had a horse phase

My mechanical pencil. It IS special even my classmates agreed. Like idk perfect shape, grip, weight, just perfect all around. My dad gifted it to me after someone gave it to him, his words "you will need it more than me". I once lost it (I then discovered a classmate stole it so not really my fault here) and I found a picture of the pencil online and put it on the students' board and even offered to buy the breakfast to whoever would find it and give it back to me. I am deeply attached to that pencil I swear I felt so bad thinking I lost it (also because I looked at the prices online and I felt even worse). But then I found it again so yayyyyyy!

I feel very childish after this answer... onto the next one we go

7h- hm...

Hmmm relationship as in friendship I'd say when you can catch up after long periods of time after not being able to and still not feeling it. Like "omg when was the last time we talked???" "Uh... oh gee a month???" "Waaaaaah crazy! So by the way...." and then it's like you never stopped talking.

In a relationship as in a romantic sense, I'd say: When they don't force you to tell your secrets if you're not ready, but they let you know they're there for you whenever you are.

You can be stupid together

If you feel like you can communicate freely about anything without feeling judged or out of place. And when the other(s) in the relationship do the same. Like idk I've been in a relationship and a "situationship" and I'm still friends with those guys because we communicated for the entirety of those experiences. I would not get back with them, ever, but we parted on very good terms... so I guess it worked out even if in the end nothing came out of it. Moral of the story "STRAIGHTFORWARD AND HONEST COMMUNICATION IS THE KEY" (if not for a successful relationship, for a guilt and stress-free breakup) :D

#steel answers #thanks for the ask!

[dutifullylazybread]

Get to know your Tav

I was tagged by @faerunsbest (thank you, friend!) and I am tagging whoever would like to do this too! :D I'm running on very little sleep right now, so I'm drawing a blank on who to tag! But I want to know all about your Tav, so join us!

While I do refer to my Tav as Tav for the sake of ease on tumblr, in-game, I named her Cassandra. I'm gonna continue to call her Tav for this tag though!

Her background is guild artisan--her mother made stained glass windows and sculptures, and her father was a barrel maker. She is versed in glassblowing and carpentry, because her parents introduced her to the basics. She spent several years working as an artisan with the artisan's guild in Baldur's Gate as well.

What is their:

Favorite weapon? Quarterstaff--especially Markoheshkir. It was a gift from Rolan, so there is the sentimental value attached, along with the magical abilities it possesses. Also she can use it as a bludgeoning weapon when pressed.

Style of combat? Ranged. She hates getting hit with anything. However, she isn't above using a dagger when needed, and she fights dirty with one--she will aim for any exposed flesh.

Most prized possession? A hunk of slag glass that her mother gave her. The slag was left over from a stained glass window that her mother was commissioned to craft, and Tav was enamored with the pigment combination that her mother used. So, with what she had left over, her mother created an apple-sized hunk of slag that marbled the colors together. Tav left this in her pack with most of her other belongings. Shadowheart held onto it until they reunited.

Deepest desire? Stability. She wants a place to call home that will remain her home if she chooses to adventure. She wants it to have a garden, a well-stocked library, and a kitchen with a crackling hearth.

Guilty pleasure? She loves reading smut. And she loves dramatically reading smut aloud. Will read it to Rolan while he is studying to see how long it takes for him to blush.

Best-kept secret? She thinks that she is a failure as a wizard.

Greatest strength? She would say her perseverance.

Fatal flaw? While she doesn't view vulnerability as weakness with others, within herself, vulnerability is unacceptable. She doesn't want to ask for help. Ever. And when she has to, she views it as a failing on her part.

Favorite scent? Old books, lavender, seed oil, and cypress

Favorite spell/cantrip? Shatter or Eldritch blast (learned it from Wyll)

Pet peeve? Meetings that could have been a letter correspondence

Bad habit? Is disorganized to a fault. Will forget she is holding something, and has no qualms in leaving her workspace a mess if she thinks that she'll come back and work on something more at a later point.

Hidden talent? Glass blowing

Leisure activity? Reading, gardening, and cooking.

Favorite drink? Almond brandy

Comfort food? Bouillabaisse -- a fish soup.

Favorite person(s)? While I think she cared deeply for everyone in her traveling party, prior to endgame, her favorite person was Gale. She enjoyed his sense of humor originally, and given that they both attended Blackstaff, they had a foundation to build a friendship off of. She valued him as a colleague at first, but those feelings ultimately turned romantic when he told a ridiculously horrible pun and she laughed (and snorted) for twenty minutes straight. She adored Karlach and they bonded over their shared experiences living in Baldur's Gate as children. They were also both orphaned, so they began to jokingly (until it wasn't a joke anymore) say that they adopted each other as siblings. Karlach started telling Tav "Taters," and when Tav found out what it meant, she hid in Gale's tent and cried happy tears for twenty solid minutes. AFTER the events of the game, Tav goes to live with Rolan and his family, and they quickly become her favorite people. Cal and Lia welcome her in and rib her like siblings would. She and Cal bond over gardening, and she and Lia bond while sparring with one another. She and Rolan fall in love, and with him, she permits herself to be vulnerable. And while they were both extremely oblivious and assumed that the other didn't feel the same way (so why bother confessing?), one thing leads to another, and a romance blossoms.

Favored display of affection? Physical touch. She loves being embraced, and she loves holding hands. Rolan will tuck her hair behind her ear. She also likes being bitten. A lot.

Fondest childhood memory? Watching her mother mix pigments for stained glass and swimming in the Chionthar with her friends. She also snuck into Ramazith's tower while it was abandoned (decades after Ramazith disappeared and prior to Lorroakan claiming it) and fell in love with the library.

Anything else you’d like to share? Prior to the events of BG3, Tav worked as a guild artisan. She specialized in glassblowing, and she used her wages to fund her arcane research. She fought tooth and nail with the heads of the guild to open a branch for artificing/working with enchanted items but came up against a lot of resistance. Had she not been abducted by mind flayers, she very likely would have continued with the guild until she got fed up with them skimming more than their fair share off of her commissions.

#my tav #tav tag #darcy rambles #bg3 #bg3 tag #baldur's gate 3 #tav

[starcchild]

What does Obadiah think of Carter’s ships in the IKAU?

((under the cut because I rambled sdfgjhksdf

well, fortunately for her and her partner(s), Obadiah’s opinion is not something they have to worry about! He’s been dead for at least seven years, if not longer depending on when she gets involved with either Basch or Carol, so while echoes of what he had done still remain in Carter’s head, she doesn’t need to worry about him being there.

with that said, if it were an au where he is still alive... Bad. Bad bad bad. Obadiah’s someone who wants control and will do what it takes to remain in control. He wants to keep Carter isolated, and he effectively put a long stall on her being able to form any kind of relationship with any of the Avengers because of it. He tricked her into believing she couldn’t trust them, that they didn’t care about her, and he convinced them that she was reckless and a loose cannon, which she, unintentionally, proved time and time again by acting out, either provoked by him or by something else and reacting before she could catch herself. He made it so her behavior appeared normal for her, and not because of her acting out from his abuse - something that came unraveling after his death. 

the thing is, he doesn’t see Carter as a person - he sees her as something that will help him reach his goals, but nothing more. For her to start developing a relationship with anyone, regardless of what kind of relationship, he’s going to find ways to intervene, and, for him, the best way to do so is going through Carter. He’ll do everything he can to convince her she’s a problem and she’ll only hurt whoever she’s growing attached to, and that it’ll only go badly for her. He’ll remind her of everyone that had left her, of everything she had lost, and if that didn’t work, he’ll flat out hold them over her head. He’ll threaten them, telling her if something were to happen to them it’ll be her fault, and force her hand. She’ll feel cornered and, regardless of how she feels, she’ll push whoever she was growing close to away, and if they try reaching out to her, she’ll lash back. She’ll get angry, she’ll snap, and she’ll push them away until they finally give up and leave her alone. It’ll absolutely destroy her, but she rather it be her getting hurt in the end, because the idea of losing them, especially to Obadiah, is terrifying. But... she’ll also hate herself, because she feels powerless. Feels like she can’t do anything to stop Obadiah or protect those she cares about from him, and will feel like she’s stuck in a rut she can never escape from. And, tbh, I can see him talking to the others about Carter having a boyfriend and asking if they know anything because he’s worried about his adoptive daughter, just to try and drive a wedge between Carter and her ship.

with the more general how he’d react out of the way, I’m gonna be a lil more specific with both ships! And then I’ll talk about Quentin at the end lol 

so, with Basch (@tarnishedxknight), Obadiah would respect him! Basch is an honorable soldier with a good head on his shoulders, although he’d certainly be skeptical of Basch’s explanation of where he came from, especially given the technology involved with him being a knight. However, again, Obadiah wants to keep Carter isolated - the moment he catches wind that she has feeling for Basch and/or vice versa, he’s going to intervene to keep her away. With Basch, Obadiah would put on the whole “that’s my daughter you better not hurt her she’s already been through enough” routine, and essentially be on his back about that. However, with Carter, he’s going to do what I mentioned above - convince her she can’t trust Basch, that she’ll only hurt him, etc. However, if she manages to keep how she feels about Basch private, and it gets to where they are in their threads currently (not together, but definitely affectionate with each other and less guarded than they are with the others), Obadiah’s manipulation is... going to hit a wall. She’s not going to suddenly stop believing him altogether or anything of the sort, and will still believe what he says, but... she’s going to be reluctant to leave Basch, and it’s possible it may reach a point where she finally confides in Basch about what’s going on. To an extent, of course, and in a very skewed way considering she refuses acknowledge Obadiah is abusive, but it’s still a possibility she may be able to take a step in that direction. Basch may even recognize something’s wrong before she can even say anything, actually! I mean, the reason the others generally haven’t caught on is because they rarely see Carter and, again, they’ve been manipulated into believing a specific view of her - however, with Basch, he sees her for who she is. He knows who she’s truly like beneath her hostile exterior, so he may very well notice something’s not quite right, and may realize what’s wrong has something to do with Obadiah. 

with Carol, Obadiah would honestly hate her. To him, she’s abrasive, loud, and unfit to be a hero. He’d absolutely try to sway Carter away from her regardless of how Carter feels about her, and I think he’d actually be afraid of her. I feel like Carol would be able to see right through his shit considering she went through something similar with Yon-Rogg, and I think he’d be able to see that pretty damn fast all things considered. And I think that, if Carol were to confide in Carter with some of the things Yon-Rogg had done, it would actually give Carter the wake up call she needs, and she’d absolutely turn to Carol first for help with getting out of Obadiah’s control. 

now, for Quentin, the lovely anon writing for the ikauv is doing a great job of how Obadiah would react to Carter just being friends with Quentin! He’d turn them against each other and have them separate that way without interfering, so they’re both unable to go back to each other and patch things up. 

outside of the ikauv, with what I have planned for the regular ikau with Quentin, Obadiah would still hate him. Even though Carter and Quentin are technically friends (since they have a fwb relationship), Obadiah would still manipulate Carter into leaving Quentin just like he would regarding any other ship. It all comes down to him having control over her, and him keeping that by keeping her isolated. And, since Carter did have feelings for Quentin, Obadiah would see that and use that against her as well, and convince her that Quentin could never feel that way for her. However, if he were to find out the nature of their relationship, he’d lay the disappointment on thick. He wouldn’t get angry with Carter, but... yeah, he’d act disappointed in her, and that’d absolutely hurt her more than if he were to be angry. Plus, I honestly feel like he might be comparing her to her father in a much more negative light because of that, and Carter would... really not have a good time.

#asks #anons #ikau things #abuse tw

[luz-introvertida]

I’m sorry— I know

Summary: You isolate yourself from Din after an intense argument and during the night, unable to sleep, he misses you and needs you. With guilt weighing heavily on his chest, he’s determined to ensure you see his deep regret, even if it means pushing himself to do something he’s yet to be completely comfortable doing.

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: none, just pure fluff!

Mando’a Translations: me'suum'ika —> moon

A/N: I wrote this in a day, half on my computer and half on my phone. I’m bilingual so if you see anything that doesn’t make sense grammatically :/ sorry about that, I still tend to make mistakes despite being pretty fluent in English. I’m not very proud of this mini story but it’s still something I wanted to share :) Whoever reads this, I hope you enjoy!

Din tossed and turned in his cot, which was cold and devoid of you. It was no secret that he always slept better with your arms wrapped around him from behind, spooning him and pressing him against your warm consolation. Your touch had been his lullaby for a while now, a comforting hush that silenced any nightmare that used to jolt him awake in a cold sweat. Furthermore, it was also no secret that, inevitably, he was bound to have a terrible night’s sleep whenever you’d get mad at him, and this was one of those instances.

He sat up against the cool steel wall in front of the bed and sighed frustratingly. He hadn’t seen you since the heated argument the two of you had, in which it ended when you stormed off while he was mid-sentence in a justification for his anger.

Din had blamed you entirely for the failure of his mission, since you confessed you sabotaged it intentionally. When he asked you to explain why you’d do such a thing, he raised his voice while doing so, and his frustration only worsened when you stayed quiet.

An apology had to be said but not on your part, he knew this and the small amount of pride he hated he had was gnawing at him, telling him his reaction was necessary, but no. The way he treated you, you didn’t deserve it. The sigh he let out this time had no frustration attached to it, just regret and guilt.

It was a bad habit he still hadn’t overcome, easily losing patience when things wouldn’t go his way and he decided to take it out on you at that moment. Although he gave you an opportunity to explain yourself, he didn’t ask you with an open mind or an open heart. He was planning on arguing against whatever reason you had regardless of its rationality. Either way, he was going to wind up treating you unfairly.

Din began to rehearse apology speeches in his mind, sometimes letting some of the words slip out to see if they made sense when spoken out loud. There were dozens of speeches thrown away in his imaginary waste bin. Now, frustration settled its way back on his chest and he felt it scrunch up on his eyebrows.

It wasn’t like the words “I’m sorry” were foreign in his vocabulary. He never refrained from apologizing to you despite his stubbornness having him on a leash at times. The problem was that he knew you too well and he knew that even if those words were said to you, there have been times when you’ve had a hard time believing they were genuine. He never knew if it was the modulated sound of his voice that sometimes made him sound emotionless, which he had no fault for, or if you truly believed he had never meant those words the times he’d said them.

Though the guilt was very much real and worsening by the minute.

Din sat at the edge of the bed now, leaning forward with his elbows digging into his thighs. He let out a sigh once more and raised his helmet all the way up to rub his face. He was sleep deprived and you deprived. Looking up towards the cockpit where you had been in since you stormed off, he began to feel nervous.

He was anxious that you’d never forgive him and walk out of his life tired of his endless flaws and faults that he had been struggling to fix. Nonetheless, it was settled— he was going to apologize to you. Now the next step was actually doing the deed.

When he climbed up the stairs that led to the cockpit, he stopped at the very top and peeked to see where you were. You sat on the pilot’s seat, his seat, with your knees tucked under your chin and looking out at the expanse of stars. You hadn’t slept a wink.

The sound of footsteps up the stairs pulled your attention away from the scenery and you were met with an obviously tired Din. Although you couldn’t see his face, it was evident he hadn’t been having a good sleep either from his slightly hunched over posture as he stood in front of you. You knew he couldn’t sleep because he needed you and a small, weak smile made its way to your lips at this realization, but you restrained yourself from standing up and giving him what he wanted.

Din trudged closer until he kneeled right in front of you and made it impossible to avoid his stare. Even through the visor of his helmet, you could always feel his eyes and know exactly what they would say.

“Are you going to stare at me and not say anything?” you asked with a hint of annoyance in your voice. You were annoyed, rightfully so, since he had spent a silent few minutes simply staring and not showing any sign of wanting to initiate conversation.

“Are you going to keep avoiding me and stare at a view you’ve seen countless of times?” he retorted, though with a playful tone. He was trying to ease into the apology by attempting to make you smile and you absolutely hated how it was already taking effect.

You scoffed at his response but didn’t budge. Din grinned under the helmet when he saw the corners of your lips struggle to remain put and he saw it as an opportunity to keep easing into it. Your breath hitched when his gloveless hand grabbed your arm to pull away from your knee gently. It wasn’t the first time you had felt the contact of his warm skin on yours, nevertheless it was still as electrifying as the first time.

Din’s grin left when you yanked your arm away from his hand in vexation towards his antics, muttering the word “No” and swallowing the lump that had formed.

The argument from hours ago replayed and his unnecessary yelling echoed in your head. You couldn’t discern if he was here to genuinely apologize or to conquer his remedy for sleepless nights.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” Din whispered and grabbed your arm once again, this time enveloping your hand in both his hands, callous from his living but be that as it may they were benign. It was excruciatingly difficult to focus on anything else but the tenderness behind his actions. “Look at me,” he whispered anew, “You know why I’m here.”

“I don’t want your apology,” you snapped, but he persisted and instead furthered his affection, raking his thumb on your knuckles.

The same anger you had been withholding hours since the argument banged against your chest in regards to how he was being towards you now and you allowed it to escape as you transferred your gaze to him, ranting what you were desperate to say when the two of you fought, “There was a target on your back, Din. The bounty had a sharp shooter hiding in one of the buildings and the bomb was the only option. I’m sorry that he got away and you couldn’t get the credits,” you swallowed to relieve the knot that formed in your throat but it was impossible to alleviate, and your voice came out meek, breaking as you confessed, “I’m sorry for sabotaging your mission, but I could've lost you.”

Din’s comforting touch halted at your truth. If it weren’t for his lack of patience, he could’ve known this hours ago and he wouldn’t have hurt you this way. You had practically saved him. He needed you to know he was deeply remorseful, to know that any apologetic word that was to slip from his mouth was true and spoken straight from his heart.

He knew what the only way to do it was— for you look at him.

The absence of Din’s touch had made your hands reach out for him, however, they froze halfway when his hands were on his helmet, sliding it up gradually.

Immediately upon catching a glimpse of his chin, you had looked away and shut your eyes just as you heard the clicking hiss of the helmet. “Look at me,” Din murmured, the natural gentleness of his voice resounding through the cockpit and the raw baritone of it making your chest constrict.

You had already seen him plenty of times— when he bid goodbye to Grogu, when you trimmed his hair after he shyly asked you to, when you cleaned up his facial wounds after a difficult mission and he avoided your eyes while you did so and, unforgettably, when you had walked in on him getting dressed after he took a shower, droplets of water dripping down the expression of surprise on his face.

Although Din had broken his Creed long ago, he had tendencies of feeling guilty whenever he was helmetless and seen, and you had as well for seeing him the times he was. The two of you had worked your way around that without actually discussing it— most of your kisses being shared by him lifting his helmet and only exposing the lower part of his face to capture your lips in his.

“No,” you argued. This was hard for him yet he did it, for you. It hurt you to know he probably felt uncomfortable at this moment, wrong for what he was doing and now you were the one feeling guilty. “Put it back on, Din-”

“Please,” he pressed on. You gasped inaudibly when you felt both his hands cup your cheeks and his thumbs graze your cheekbones.

Once you opened your eyes, you were met with Din’s tear-filled and genuine ones. He opened his mouth, about to give you the apology you deserved, but you cut him off with a kiss. He didn’t need to utter anything for you to know how he truly felt when you saw it vividly in his expression.

“I know,’ you whispered after you pulled away and for the very first time, you witnessed his smile up close, lighting up the cockpit with its radiance.

Din pressed his forehead against yours and sighed contentedly. “You want to keep sleeping up here?” he murmured and his hands, unnoticeable to you, had found their way to your waist and squeezed slightly, giving rise to a loud laugh from you.

This time he initiated the kiss, closing the distance between you and smiling into it. “Lull me to sleep, my me'suum'ika.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin x gender neutral reader #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #pedrostories #pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal

[clairecrive]

Hello beautiful person! Do you take requests which ask you to write a second chapter for your writings? If you do, may I ask a second chapter for "Rare"? And if you don't could you please let me know so I can be careful for another time when I ask a request?

I hope this is not something that disturbes or irritates you. I love your writing, it is beautiful and sometimes I read your pieces over and over again. 😁

Thanks for blessing us with your writing. Have a nice day.💕

A/n: First of all anon, thank you so very much for your sweet words! They mean the world to me <3 Also, your request could never irritate me! I love them and I love the fact that you consider me half a decent writer enough to send me your thoughts <3 I'm sorry it took me so long to get around this but I hope you like this and are still around to read it x

I've decided to pair it with a request for juicy time with Eddie. there's no actual smut but it's suggestive let's say.

Warnings: bit of angst, fluff,

Word count: 2.4K

Tags: @mollybegger-blog, @evelynshelby, @br0ck-eddie, @fandom--0verdose, @shadow-of-wonder, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @sopxhiea, @fuseburner, @for-bebbanburg, @crazyclownchick ( fill in this form to be added to my taglist)

Part 1

TOM HARDY MASTERLIST

You weren't exactly new to heartbreak. You had been a teenager after all but your experience with adult relationships had not been that good either.

You knew that you'd be over Eddie even if it may take you some time. It's true that you had only been dating for a few months but you had really grown attached to him. It was one of the things you hated about yourself: the way you got attached way too soon, way too much.

Especially, in this case, seeing as Eddie hadn't been 100% in it in the beginning you had hoped that the more time you'd spend together, he'd see that you weren't so bad and that he'd grow to care for you. At least a little bit.

Turns out you were wrong.

As much as you hated being wrong, the thing that hurt you the most was that despite your best efforts, Eddie still didn't think you were enough for him. And how could you be when the benchmark was perfect Anne?

You stood no chance. You had been a fool for even trying. And now you were experiencing the burn for your foolishness.

This had happened often enough that you had developed a routine for dealing with heartbreak:

1) crying your heart out and indulging your sadness with whatever helped (mostly comfort food and Friends)

2) enough with indulging, it was time to pick yourself up. No more overeating although you still allowed yourself to cry if you felt like it

3) "I don't need him anyway" phase where you'd make a mental list of how your life was before and after whoever you had broken up with to remind you that they weren't as important as you made them out to be

4)"put yourself out there again" phase where you started going out again with the intention of meeting new people or simply having a good time.

As of this time, you were in phase 3. You noticed that there were some of Eddie's things littering around your apartment. So, you picked up a box and collected them with the intention of returning them to him, effectively closing this chapter. As you did, you made that aforementioned list. This time, with the added reason for your break up, it was a bit easier to remind you why breaking up had been the right decision.

When your hands closed on your favourite hoodie of his though, you couldn't help the pang in your heart as a flood of memories hit you.

You and Eddie doing a Friends marathon every Friday night.

Eddie giving this hoodie when you were sick because he knew how much you liked it.

Eddie taking the hoodie off for a whole other reason almost ripping it...

No.

Shaking your head, you pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

Enough of that. It was over.

It was only a week later that you finally got the time to come around Eddie's apartment. Sure, you could have called him, he could have come himself to pick them up or you could have dropped them at his job but that would have required you to call him. And recalling how that went last time you tried to reach him you decided you'd spare yourself the humiliation of him not ghosting you again.

Taking a deep breath, you straightened your shoulders and knocked on his door.

"Y/n." You were met with a dishevelled Eddie.

He looked like shit but what's new with him. He also looked very surprised to see you at his door and you also couldn't blame it for that. You would have reacted the same way if the roles were reversed.

"Hi, Eddie," you hated your treacherous voice that wobbled when you spoke. Clearing your voice, you tried again.

"Sorry to come here unannounced. I've found some of your stuff in my apartment and I thought you'd like to have them back." You explained as you handed him the box, his eyes taking it in for the first time.

"Oh," he paused as he considered your words. Was that disappointment in his voice? "Thank you, y/n. You shouldn't have." He smiled weakly as he took the box from you, your fingers touching briefly.

"It's not a problem, Eddie. I was just passing by anyway." You and Eddie actually lived far from each other. The truth is that there was no reason for you to be in this part of town if it wasn't for him. Eddie knew that but he was kind enough not to point that out.

He just nodded, accepting your words as he held the box close to his chest.

You awkwardly stared at each other for a while, you didn't know what to say but neither of you wanted to end this exchange quite yet. When you felt that you had been standing like a fool in front of your ex's door, you went to leave but Eddie beat you to it.

"So how have you been?" Your first reaction was to scoff at this attempt of small talk. Neither of you was very good at it. And truthfully, it was rich coming from someone who had not made any effort to keep in contact with you even before your breakup.

The scroll of your shoulders was the only answer Eddie got. You weren't in the mood to pretend nor did you want him to know how you were still suffering for him.

"I should ask that to you." You reverted the question to him. He really didn't look well.

"yeah, it's been a rough couple of weeks," he confessed scratching the back of his head.

"That, I don't find it hard to believe," you hummed as your eyes took him in, really took him in since you knocked at his door. You could also see behind him that his apartment was a mess.

"Yeah, don't have to worry about me though. I'm fine."

"Of course." You nodded at his dismissal, remembering harshly the situation you were in."Well, I'm going to go now. Take care." Cold but still polite you turn around, ready to put this -Eddie and this exchange- behind you.

"Y/n, wait!" he called when you were about to climb down the staircase. "Do you want to have a drink or something?" Stay for a while? he meant but didn't dare to say.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Eddie." You called over your shoulder, hand still on the railing.

"Please, I owe you an explanation." You didn't know if it was the desperate note in his voice or the fact that he really looked like shit but you turned around almost convinced.

"Don't you think it's too late for that, Eddie?"

"Maybe it won't change anything between us but you deserve to know." You knew Eddie and you knew how much he cared about transparency and honesty. This may not mean that you were going to get back together but he was right, you deserved an explanation.

"Okay," you agreed as you walked back and then into his apartment. Eddie closed the door behind him and set the box he was still holding down behind the coat hanger.

The sneak peek you had before was definitely right: Eddie's apartment was even messier than usual.

"Why does it look like a tornado hit your home?" You couldnìt help but point out. You knew Eddie wasn't that bothered by tidiness but this too much even by his standards.

"That would be my fault," a new voice answered you.

At first, you didn't register the difference in tone or accent even though you should have had because Eddieìs voice wasnìt that low or raspy. But then a black tendril entered your vision field catching your attention making you turning your head to better inspect it.

What.the.fuck??

"Eddie?" You asked perplexed, eyes fixed on this thing? even if you were addressing Eddie.

"Y/n meet Venom, Venom meet y/n." He gestured awkwardly with his hands.

"It's so nice to meet you, Eddie's always thinking about you, you know? It's a bit annoying." this time the voice didn't come from a tendril but a face. A fucking alien face with long sharp teeth and wide white eyes.

His words went straight over your head. How the fuck was this true? What were you even seeing? Did this thing come from Eddie's body??

"Fuck, I know I'm heartbroken but now I'm even seeing things?"

"Y/n," Eddie tried to get your attention. You thought you had only thought that but apparently, you had spoken the words. "You're not seeing things, this is part of the explanation I owe you."

"I think it's better if you sit," he said motioning to his couch when you did nothing but stare at Venom. Prompting by Eddie though, you sat down and listened as he spoke.

He told you everything. About Carton Drake about his project with aliens, about Venom and their rather troubled relationship. He even explained how Anne had got involved and how she and Danny had helped him.

It was definitely a lot to take in. But somehow, the thought that he could be lying to you never crossed your mind. The proof was right in front of you, wasn't it? Venom, as he had introduced himself, stood next to Eddie while he spoke. It had never spoken again and you were inwardly thankful for that. That he was giving you space to digest all of this.

"Why didn't you tell me when you came around that day, Eddie?" You asked once you thought you had wrapped your head around it.

"I didn't want you to drag you into this mess," he said with a shrug, head cast down he didn't meet your eyes.

You didn't know how you felt about all of this yet but you nodded anyway. Well, there was nothing you could do anymore, could you? He had already taken care of everything on his own and it wasn't like you had any right to worry about him anymore.

"Thank you for explaining, Eddie. I appreciate your honesty." Did this change anything for you?

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren't enough of if Anne meant more to me than you did. That's not true but I didn't know how to tell you that without telling you what was happening." He nervously fiddled with his fingers without meeting your eyes.

You could see his point now that you knew what happened. Still, it hurt you that he decided to just keep you out of it without a word. He could have at least told you that something was going on, that he didn't or couldn't tell you anything - not right now. You would have understood and given him space. Did he really act like this to keep you safe or was it a way to dismiss you?

"I don't know if this changes things, Eddie. You still turned up to her when a major life-threatening event happened. I think this tells me everything that I need to know." You point out after a while, eyes fixed on the end of your shoes.

"She has been involved from the moment we broke up, Y/n. Hell, this was the reason we broke up in the first place." Eddie's head snapped up at your words. He looked surprised at your words like he couldn't believe that you thought Anne's involvement had been something he had actively sought out.

"That may as well be true, Eddie but still, you didn't tell me even after everything settled down. If I hadn't come around to give you your stuff I still would be none the wiser."

"I was afraid, y/n. How could I come back to you after how much I had hurt you? 'Sorry if I went m.i.a. for a while, I was infected with a parasite who knows permanently with me?' Come on, y/n, I wouldn't take me back either." Now upset, Eddie started to gesticulate frantically to prove his point. His eyes flickered between yours, he leaned toward you, his hands a touch away from yours as if he wanted to touch you but was preventing himself from doing so.

"I'm not saying I would have believed you straight away but still- aliens are way better than self-loathing you know?" You scoff at him- why was he so upset? He wasn't the one who had been beating himself up since that fight for being a worthless piece of shit, was he?

"I know I've never done a good job at showing you but I do care about you. Deeply." Almost as if he couldn't bear to not be touching you any longer, Eddie now reached for your hands. His hold on them tightening as he spoke the words.

You looked at him for a moment. Aside from that fight, your relationship with him had been good. The start wasn't promising, seeing as he was still taken by Anne but Eddie had treated you good. He was attentive and caring in his own way. Looking back to it now, you realized that the period where you started feeling him pulling back from you was the time when this whole alien thing had started.

But now you had settled this, right? So, could this mean...

"If I give you one more chance to show you," you spoke tentatively, enthralled by the twinkle in his eyes, "do you promise me to be fully transparent with me this time around?"

"What? Why would you do that?" He looked shocked but his eyes were hopeful.

"Are you trying to talk me out of it, Eddie?" You challenged him, arching an eyebrow.

"Like hell I am." He scoffed, a smile on his lips. "Nono, of course I do. I swear, y/n. You'll never feel like you don't matter to me again."

"Good." You gave him a small smile at the gobsmacked expression on his face. Oh, Eddie...

He does nothing but stares at you for a while. Like he hadn't seen you in a while and now that you were in front of him, he wanted to commit to his memory every little detail of your face.

"So," you said after a while, "do you plan to stare at me or would you like to get a head start on your promise?" you provoke him with a suggestive tone.

Eddie's mouth fell a little at that, Venom said something to him but you didn't understand him. Shaking his head, Eddie smirks at you.

"I would like nothing more." And with that, Eddie's lips are on yours making up for the lost time.

#eddie brock #eddie brock x reader #eddie brock x you #eddie brock one shot #eddie brock imagines #eddie brock imagine #eddie brock angst #eddie brock smut #venom #marvel #tom hardy x reader #tom hardy imagines #eddie brock fanfiction #eddie brock ff

[absolutepokemontrash]

The Demon Bros Play DND!

Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?

So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.

Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM

He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.

Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.

Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.

He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.

Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.

“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”

He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.

Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker

In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.

Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)

This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!

Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-

Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.

He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!

He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.

Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?

“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”

Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.

“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”

He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.

Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.

He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.

Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...

“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”

If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.

Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)

His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!

He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.

Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.

While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.

His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”

Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.

“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”

Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.

Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.

Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-

Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.

The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)

So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?

It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.

When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.

He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.

As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.

Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!

He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.

Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.

As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.

He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!

His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!

Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.

Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.

“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”

I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)

At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.

When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.

Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.

“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”

Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!

Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.

When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!

Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.

He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.

His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.

‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’

Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!

Please help him, MC...

*Dice Cronch* (Beel)

Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...

Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D

Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:

“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”

I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.

While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.

He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.

Murder Hobo (Belphie)

Chaotic evil.

“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”

If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.

He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.

Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-

He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.

He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.

Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.

Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.

“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”

Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)

Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.

Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.

Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!

He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!

Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.

Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!

#Obey me #Obey me! #Obey me Headcanons #obey me! headcanons #Obey me Lucifer #Obey me Mammon #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Leviathan #obey me beelzebub #Obey me Belphegor #Obey me Satan #Obey me Asmodeus #Obey me MC #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

[writerpeach]

Jealousy

IZ*ONE Yena x Male Reader

9790 words

categories: smut, oral, rough sex

---

read on AFF

read on AO3

masterlist

“Good morning, everyone. You all know why we’re here today.”

Detective Kwon was seated at the head of the white rectangular table centered in the precinct’s main conference room, folding her arms and commanded attention from the other eyes in the room. It wasn’t often that the lead detective was in such a foul mood, yet given the events that led up to this meeting, it wasn’t surprising. The conference room was filled with nothing but blank expressions.

“Our mission was nothing but a complete failure and we need to find out why. Detective Miyawaki will go over everything we know right now,” Eunbi said, the harshness and frustration in her voice unmistakable.

“Yes, boss.” Sakura's usual sugary-sweet cute smile was replaced with a more serious expression. The petite detective stood out with freshly dyed pink hair, adding to her adorable image.

Sakura cleared her throat and sat up straight, taking a deep breath as she looked around the room at other members of the team.

“Our operation commenced last Friday morning at what was Patriarch Goda’s location based on information given by our informant. Detective Eunbi took point along with Detective Hyewon."

Sakura took a steady breath before continuing.

“Our teams surrounded the mansion on three separate sides while Detective Kwon led the charge. All three teams simultaneously breached and found zero members of the Goda clan inside, while the patriarch was nowhere to be found.”

"Our informant Dojima-san has never been wrong about anything we've gone to them about, so we have no reason to believe this is any different," Eunbi briefly interrupted.

"Please continue."

Sakura nodded politely. “There wasn’t anything useful inside but communication equipment. Several laptops were found by our teams, but no useful information could be taken from them as they were securely wiped with military-grade equipment. They knew what they were doing, and most importantly they knew we were coming.”

“Thank you, Detective Miyawaki. Now the question is how in the hell did they find out this information?” Eunbi asked.

“I believe I can give some insight to that, Detective Kwon.” The new voice came from a blonde woman who you had briefly met in your time helping out with the case. Her role was one of the few members of Eunbi's team that wasn’t a detective, working as the precinct’s head security analyst.

“Please give any information you have, Miss Yena.”

“This morning during a routine weekly check of our network logs I noticed some unusual activity. Upon further investigation, I noticed our network firewall had been breached, coincidentally thirty minutes before the raid on the mansion."

Yena lowered her head apologetically as she continued. “I’ve patched the breach and added tighter security to our systems. I apologize I wasn’t able to catch this beforehand.”

“You don’t have to explain. There were so many things happening, with you making sure our surveillance van was properly running I can’t say I can find you at fault. Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, boss. I’m on it.”

“What did they gain from this breach?” Eunbi asked.

“No sensitive data was stolen or accessed, but our logs show our monitoring systems were rerouted.”

“So they were able to access our comms? That explains how they were able to figure out the details of our plans and getaway.”

“Exactly. I’ve sent in an order for more secure headsets, as well as changed all our frequencies. It’s a mistake we won’t make twice.”

“Thank you, Miss Yena. Is that all?”

“There’s one more thing,” Yena said, placing a small metal device on the table that was roughly the size of a flash drive.

“It wasn’t a software breach but a hardware one. Someone physically installed this into one of our servers, which was how they were able to bypass our systems so easily.”

“Do we know who is responsible?” Eunbi asked.

“No, I’m afraid not, boss. Our security footage was wiped during that time period and replaced with a looped recording. The good news is I’ve checked timestamped footage and everyone in this room was accounted for.

“So you’re saying it was an inside job? That whoever attached this device works for us?” Eunbi said as she inspected the small device.

“It’s a high possibility, boss. We’re looking into it as much as we can.”

“The moment you find any information let me know as soon as possible.”

“Of course, boss.”

“Now, if there’s nothing else to discuss I believe that will conclude this debriefing. Our priority is still capturing Patriarch Goda, but now we also have to deal who was inside our systems and why. If you find any pertain information please let me or Detective Hyewon know immediately. Dismissed.”

Detective Kwon couldn’t help hide her frustration as things winded down, not that anybody would have blamed her. The room cleared out as you were left alone with Eunbi who grabbed your arm just as you were about to make your own exit.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Eunbi playfully said, caressing your shoulder and batted her eyelashes.

“Seeing as I officially work for you now, I should get back to work. Boss.”

Eunbi had brought you on as a consultant with an extremely lucrative salary that you couldn’t turn down. She knew your experience on the other side of the law would come in handy during investigations and interrogating suspects, knowing how they acted, how they worked, and how they thought. It didn’t hurt that the job offer came with a nice comfy office and the chance to be around a group of beautiful women every day.

“Boss? Look at you all formal now,” Eunbi said as her fingers played with the collar of your dark-colored dress shirt, flashing you bedroom eyes that signaled danger like prey caught in a predator's trap.

“Now that everyone is gone...mommy could really use some stress relief,” Eunbi said, her lips curling into a smirk.

“That doesn’t sound very professional, Detective.”

“Well, It’s not very professional when you rail Detective Miyawaki in our break room either is it?” Eunbi said, her tone clearly unamused as she folded her arms.

You didn't have a chance to defend yourself the door to the conference room abruptly swung open and walked in one of the leggy rookie detectives, Kim Minju. The look on her face expressed she wasn’t here to deliver anything but bad news as you both sensed the dread in the air.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss. There’s been another body found,” Minju said, trying to keep her expression muted.

“Goddammit. Where was it found?” Eunbi asked, her body tensing up as she gritted her teeth.

“It was pulled out of the river about an hour ago. It hasn’t been identified yet but forensics stated it was a male in his early fifties.”  

“Most likely another hit, this has to stop. We need to figure out a way to catch these assholes who keep endangering our citizens.”

Eunbi rubbed her temple in small circles as she contemplated what her next step was. “Thank you, Minju.”

Minju bowed and exited without another word, leaving you alone with Detective Kwon once again.

“I have to get down there right away and check things out. Guess we’ll have to take a raincheck on that stress relief,” Eunbi said, her lips fading into a frown as she flashed a look of disappointment.

“Call me if you need anything.”

                                                       ✦✦

You didn’t have much direction without Detective Eunbi at the precinct. Part of your new job entailed staying behind the one-way mirror during investigations, giving valuable advice with your knowledge of the other side to prove assistance.

There wasn’t any of that in the early morning for you to assist to, only left with a stack of dossiers from criminals given by Detective Kwon you may or may not have had previous contact with. You found yourself restless and decided on a little stroll around the precinct to stretch your legs.

It wasn’t that easy navigating your way through the precinct halls as you tried to remember where things were, using familiar posters and bulletin boards on the brick walls of the precinct.

The layout still confused you regardless of how many times you had been in this building as you exchanged pleasantries with the different officers and detectives you had met before, giving polite greetings to those you hadn’t yet.

Leaving your office you realized how little energy you had at that moment. The clock hadn’t yet made it to noon as you made a beeline to the break room in need of an energy boost, remembering the coffee there was better than it had any right to be and put any coffee chain’s overpriced roast to shame.

The quiet door to the break room creaked open as you weren’t the only one with the same idea to sneak in a little caffeine break. You found the security analyst from the morning meeting occupying the room.

“You’re in luck, I just brewed a fresh pot,” the pretty blonde said as she grabbed one of several mugs from an above cabinet. She carefully poured fresh coffee into her mug, opening three packets of sugar and poured them all at once, stirring it several times as she took a seat.

“It’s Yena, right?” you asked as you poured yourself some hot piping coffee into your own mug, watching the satisfying steam coming out. You didn’t bother adding anything, needing the strong and bitter taste to wake you up as you took a seat next to her.

“That would be me,” Yena cutely said as she slurped on her coffee, using both hands to drink it as she clearly enjoyed the taste of it as it hit her taste buds. This was your first official introduction to each other you realized, and there wasn’t a better time to get to know her.

It wasn’t unusual for the room to not be occupied given that the detectives were constantly too busy to breathe on most days, much less spend time to enjoy a meal.

“And you’re Detective Kwon’s new hire, right?” Yena asked, the color in her eyes visible as she leaned in, letting the aroma of the fresh coffee take over.

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve been working unofficially with her on the Goda clan case for weeks. I’ve been spending so much time around here she wanted me to be getting paid for it. Plus, it’s an easy way to keep me safe.”

“Because you used to be one of them, right?” Yena asked. Word went around quickly that Detective Kwon had hired a former yakuza, which made the district uneasy but Eunbi was fully trustworthy and quickly quelled any concerns.

“Something like that,” you responded, not quite wanting to fully respond to such a heavy question to someone you hadn’t had a prior conversation before today.

“Did you ever kill anyone?”

The abruptness of her question almost caused you to spit out your coffee.

“No, I was just a low-level grunt. Not that I was capable of it anyways,” you replied, still surprised at her question.

“You wouldn’t be here working for us if you had, and you’re right. You’re not capable of it at all, you’re too cute.”

You didn’t know how to react to that, taking a long sip of coffee. When your mug hit the table, Yena abruptly grabbed your hands, carefully inspecting them with care.

“Ah, you still have all your fingers,” Yena said, as your expression became even more puzzled.

“...Why wouldn’t I?”

“Don’t you get a finger cut off if you mess up?” Yena said with the cutest amount of laughter.

You stifled a laugh before you felt like responding to such an absurd question.

“You have to commit a serious offense for that to happen. Disobey your patriarch’s orders, kill someone you weren’t supposed to, that sort of thing. Only saw it happen to one other member.”

“Or leave the organization without warning and leak information to the police,” Yena said, putting a hand over her mouth to cover up her laughter this time.

“If they get to me they’ll cut off more than just a finger.”

“Don’t worry, Detective Kwon will make sure all your limbs stay just where they belong,” Yena said teasingly, running a finger around the rim of her mug.

“Are you and Detective Kwon...” Yena said, giving a moment of hesitation before forming the rest of her sentence.

“Are we what?”

“Are you together? You seem so close, I see the way she looks at you whenever she talks to you,” Yena said, and if you didn’t know any better she seemed at least a little jealous.

“No, nothing like that,” you said, sipping on your coffee carefully, amused at the way the conversation had changed.

“Detective Kwon and I had a very interesting first meeting, and we’ve been working together ever since, so we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well working on this case. We’ve established a very tight relationship.”

“I’m sure that’s not that only thing that’s tight,” Yena snickered. You ignored her cute little one-liner as you kept your attention on well, her. She was a real striking beauty - light blonde hair, pretty dark brown eyes, a cute nose, and the fullest red lips you had seen, definitely her best feature. There was some regret sinking in for taking this long to talk to her.

“Yena...are you jealous?” you fired back. If she could ask ridiculous out of nowhere questions then so could you. She wasn’t expecting it if the expression on her face was anything to go on.

“Jealous? What could I possibly be jealous of?” Yena asked nonchalantly, running a hand through strands of golden hair while her cheeks became reddened. If Eunbi had taught you anything it was how to read people, and Yena had a bad poker face.

“I’m too busy working twelve-hour days to be jealous,” Yena said, quick to defend herself. She broke eye contact as her hands fiddled with her coffee mug, shyly staring off in the distance. l

“I should probably get back to work. There’s a stack of dossiers Eunbi left me that I should look over,” you said.

“So soon? We haven’t been here for that long,” Yena said, looking up at the time. “That reminds me, I need to drop this report in her office. Care to come with me?”

“Sure,” you said. You didn’t really see a reason not to accompany her and weren’t actually that eager to go back to going through stacks of criminal profiles that you felt was a little more than busywork.

                                                       ✦✦

“It’s locked,” Yena said as she jiggled the doorknob to Eunbi’s office. You’re not sure what she expected given the detective had been away all morning. Yena tried again for some reason, as if she were expecting it to magically open the second time as she looked around and tried to figure out what to do.

“You can just drop it off later when she’s back from the investigation can’t you?”

“I could, but what if I forget to give it to her? It’s so easy for me to get caught up in my work that I should leave this for her, it’s important that she gets it.”

“Ah!” Yena said as she scurried away, finding who she needed just out of view. It didn’t take long for her to return, bringing one of the janitors back with her.”

“Here it is. If you could unlock it for me it would be very appreciated. Detective Kwon needed this report on her desk by the afternoon, but you see she’s away on investigation, and I have something to attend to so I won’t be here. You understand, right?”

“No need to explain, Miss Choi, I’ll get you in,” the janitor said as he looked through a giant ring of keys, trying to find the right one and unlocked the office door.

“Just make sure you lock it back up when you’re done. You have a good day.”

“Thanks, you too!” Yena said as she stepped inside and you followed her in, waiting for her to drop off the report.

“I always forget how big her office is,” Yena said as you followed her inside. Detective Kwon had moved to a bigger office, one that was deserving of after her promotion. Yena looked around the office, carefully scanning the various awards and achievements that lined the walls, once again unable to control the jealousy inside her.

“Detective Kwon...you’re so lucky,” Yena muttered under her breath with a faded smile, setting a dark-colored folder on top of her neatly organized desk, making sure not to knock anything over.

“This place is big enough to move in,” Yena said. She took one last look around the spacious office, picking up Eunbi’s signature piglet plush off her desk and gave it a squeeze before putting it back where it belonged.

“Well, we should get out of here before we get too comfortable then,” you said and moved towards the door, ready to move on and get back to whatever work you could manage to do. Your exit was soon blocked by Yena, carrying a mischievous smile on her beautiful face as she stood in the doorway.

“What if I wanted to get a little too comfortable?” she said, closing the door with one hand as it shut behind her, the thud of the door slamming echoing against the high office walls.

“I’m sure you have plenty of work as well, Ye-”

She was quick to silence you by closing the distance and pressing a fingertip against your lips, stopping any additional objections.

“Work can wait. I’ve done what Detective Kwon has asked of me and gave a full detailed report of our breach which is on her desk waiting for her when she comes back.”

“I have dossiers I need to look through to see if I-”

You didn’t finish your sentence for the second time in a row as Yena’s deep brown eyes stared into your own, and you felt her small hands playfully pushing you back as you fell onto the couch. Yena wasn’t far behind and straddled your lap, the weight of her small body comforting as her legs around your waist.

“That can wait, too.”

“Yena, we can’t-

“Have you had sex with her in here?” she said, insisting on not letting you finish an entire sentence.

“What?”

“Have you had sex with Eunbi in this office?”

“Of course not. She’s a professional and this office is for work use only.”

That was the answer Yena was looking for if the change in her expression was anything to go by.

“Let’s change that, then,” she said as she wrapped her hands around the nape of your neck, staring even deeper into your eyes.

“Unless you don’t want to, that’s fine. You can go back to your office all alone and look at a bunch of old guys who you may or may not have seen in your past life.”

“That sounds like a terrible alternative to what’s happening right now.”

“I think so too."

Without another word you felt the warmth of her full lips smacking against your own, taking you by surprise. Instinctively you snaked your hands around her slender waist, giving in to temptation with ease. Her lips were soft as silk and tasted like your favorite candy as her tongue eagerly entered your mouth played with your counterpart.

Yena showed her aggressive side as she grabbed the back of your head, wanting you to taste her deeper as her tongue danced around in your mouth as you explored her body with your hands and wanted to rip the tight black top she had that only served as a nuisance.

“Not bad,” Yena said as the kiss was broken, lightly gasping for air as she cupped your face and stared intently into your eyes. You wanted more of her, more of her addicting taste, but she had other ideas as you let her take charge.

“I’ll show you something even better.”

Yena didn’t give you a moment to respond as she dismounted your lap and dropped to her knees, eyeing your crotch as her lips curled into a devilish smirk, ruffling a hand through her hair.

“Let’s see what Detective Kwon has been keeping to herself,” she said with a lustful look on her features as she worked your pants and unzipped them, running her small delicate hands all over your clothed cock as it hardened at her touch.

“Looks like someone’s ready,” Yena giggled, biting her lip as she gave your crotch a firm squeeze and traced the outline of your bulge with her fingers. Giving your thighs a few strokes she spread your legs wide and pulled your cock out of your boxers, wrapping her fingers around it and gave a few pumps to bring you to full hardness.

“This must be one of the reasons Eunbi likes you so much,” she said as she admired your hard shaft, the feel of her warm hand on your cock sending heavenly pleasure up your body.

Yena kept the friction slow and pleasurable, lazily stroking your shaft as she pulled your boxers down to grant full access to your cock. Licking her lips she gave a long swipe of her wet tongue from base to tip. swirling around your swollen cockhead and flicking against your leaking slit as you moaned.

She explored your throbbing shaft with her wet tongue, gathering up precum on it as she needed more and wanted to move on to the main event. Yena had deep desire and lust in her seductive eyes and hunger that could only be satiated by one thing.

Yena licked everywhere she could, tasting every inch of your cock and needing you inside her hungry mouth without delay. She ran her tongue over her lips a second time and planted a tender kiss on the tip of your cock. Making sure her hair was out of her eyes, her lips parted with your shaft and took you into her wet warm mouth, causing a deep moan to escape your mouth almost involuntarily, sending electricity throughout your spine.

You felt intense pleasure as Yena’s soft plump lips wrapped around your cock, a feeling like nothing else that set your senses on fire as she slowly sucked on your swollen tip, her tongue playfully licking the underside of your shaft.

“Yena...fuck,” you moaned, tilting your head and relaxing back into the couch. Yena’s lips felt so warm and soft, the wetness of her mouth overwhelming you as she sucked you off, tending to your pleasure at her pace and keeping constant eye contact that aroused you even more.

“Do you like that?” Yena asked, spitting on your cock repeatedly and stroking it furiously, wanting your shaft nice and wet for her as her tongue wandered around and coated every surface in warm plentiful saliva.

“I do, it feels amazing,” you said, the intense pleasure causing your breath to hitch. The pleasure was intoxicating as Yena returned to working your shaft, using her delicious plump lips and tongue in tandem as she bobbed her head up and down and watched the satisfaction in your eyes that she was giving.

You let out a loud deep breath as Yena continued her oral assault, sliding her luscious lips up and down your cock with ease as she let out messy slurping noises as she enjoyed what she was doing to you. In no time at all she upped her pace, no longer content as her movements grew wild, sucking your cock sloppily in a way that matched only the way Eunbi performed oral on you.

Yena knew what she was doing as she fondled your balls with one hand, caressing your thigh with the other to bring as much pleasure as she could and amplified the intensity, leaving a trail of drool as your shaft glistened in the light.

“God, that feels so fucking good,” you moaned, running a hand through golden strands of hair before grabbing the back of her head, guiding the movements of her amazing blowjob and trying to find any outlet for the harsh spikes of pleasure taking over.

You could barely remember where you were, much less that you were in Eunbi’s office and one of her team members was pleasuring your cock.

Yena’s lips went deep, hitting the end of your shaft as she slobbered on your cock, covering every inch in her warm saliva. The endless pleasure was becoming too much as you watched the gorgeous blonde swallowing down your cock with ease.

“Fuck...if you keep doing that you’re gonna make me cum.”

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” Yena said seductively as she rubbed your shaft all over her puckered lips.

“Cum in my mouth.”

You weren’t going to say no to that.

Yena wanted to show you what she could really do as she held onto your thighs and bobbed her head hastily, becoming a blur of blonde hair as she eagerly anticipated your release.

The point of no return rapidly approached. You couldn’t help moaning loudly at how Yena’s mouth felt, so warm, and wet, her lips so incredibly soft that it was impossible to last any longer. The look in her eyes pleaded for your climax and you weren’t going to disappoint her.

“Yena, I’m gonna fucking cum, oh f-fuck-”

Your climax struck like a lightning bolt as you felt it from your head to your curling toes. With both hands on the back of her head, you pushed Yena’s pretty face all the way down to your base, your shaft throbbing wildly as you unloaded several spurts of hot cum into her warm mouth and down her tight throat, grunting loudly with each shot.

Nothing existed at that moment as you groaned and groaned as your sharp orgasm took over your body, continuing to empty your balls into her mouth. You were both so focused on your pleasure, the way your cock was being drained dry that neither of you noticed the sound of the doorknob being turned as the door swung open.

“Could have sworn I locked this door before I left...”

Detective Kwon.

You both froze in panic at the situation, releasing the tight grip on Yena’s head as you had been caught quite literally with your pants down. Your depleted shaft plopped out of Yena’s warm mouth as she had gathered your thick and plentiful load into her mouth and you were both forced to turn your attention to Eunbi as you both gasped for air.

“Well, well, well. This isn’t what I was expecting to see during my lunch break,” Eunbi said, shutting the door behind her and standing with her hands on her hips.

“Dwrtrecrtrv-” Yena tried speaking with her mouth full of thick hot semen gathered on her tongue.

“Seems like your mouth is a little full at the moment. I hope you were planning on swallowing that.”

Yena immediately obeyed as if it were a direct order, tilting her head back as she took two big gulps and sent your load down into her stomach, licking her lips clean. She opened her mouth, letting you and not Eunbi see that nothing was left, all gone.

"Delicious."

“Damn right it is, good job. Now, care to explain why you’re on your knees sucking my new hire’s cock in the middle of my office? Not that I blame you, but how did you even get in here?”

“I had those reports you requested from this morning’s meeting, and I made sure not to forget to drop them off. There was a janitor nearby so I asked him to let me in.”

“Spoken like a true security expert. That explains the first part, but not why I found you with a mouth full of cock.”

“Well, we were having coffee together, and he’s cute. Do I need a better reason?”

Eunbi sighed. “Try and keep it in your pants, both of you. Now get dressed and get out.”

Yena headed out first as you got dressed quickly, not wanting to make things even more awkward. She gave a polite bow to Detective Kwon while hastily making her exit. You headed towards the door to make your own exit when Eunbi placed a hand on your shoulder, leaning into your ear to whisper something.

“If you’re going to fuck her later, make sure you don’t pull out. I bet she’s tight.”

Just the thought Eunbi put into your mind sent blood to your loins again. You gathered your senses and smiled at Eunbi.

“I’ll go look over those files now. See you later, detective.”

                                                       ✦✦

It was hard to concentrate on the rest of the day to say the least. You went in and out of Detective Kwon’s office, giving your input and knowledge throughout the day and thankfully not once did she mention the incident from earlier in the morning, focusing on giving what limited details she decided to give from her crime scene investigation from earlier.

Long into the afternoon you roamed the halls, heading back towards your office to go over more files Detective Kwon had assigned.

“Come with me.”

You barely heard the three words until you were dragged into a nearby supply closet. Not even bothering to switch the light on, you felt your back being pushed against shelves, small hands pressed against both sides of your face. You felt warmth against your mouth, lips that were unforgettable and unmistakable soft lips of the security analyst, Yena. You could barely see the outline of her pretty face, the darkness of the room dimly showing her blonde hair.

“I think we should find another office.”

“I’d rather we didn’t get caught again.”

“Well then, my place or yours?”

She didn’t give you a moment to respond as she pulled you into another kiss, time more aggressively, adding more tongue and biting on your lower lip. You felt powerless to resist, not that you wanted to.

“My place,” Yena said, deciding for you. “I want you somewhere Eunbi hasn’t been.”

“You really are jealous, aren’t you?”

Yena huffed. “I told you, I’m not,” she responded, giving your crotch a firm squeeze through your pants.

"It's not like she has the most amazing figure, perfect huge tits, and thighs that could crush a watermelon. Not to mention how beautiful she is, but no, I'm not jealous."

"Not even a little?"

“No, shut up, let’s get out of here.”

                                                       ✦✦

Out of the few women you had slept with from Eunbi’s team, including the detective herself, they all gave you a chance to explore their place, even so much as offering a drink before the magic happened.

Not Yena.

There wasn’t any offering of so much as a glass of water, barely did you even have a chance to kick off your shoes as you entered Yena’s apartment before being whisked away dragged straight into the bedroom.

This Yena was different from the security analyst back at the precinct, the cute girl who loved to make jokes and covered her mouth every time she laughed. This version of Yena was a little less shy, a lot more confident, and certainly a lot more aggressive.

That’s not to say you didn’t love this new side of Yena. Every move she made caught you unprepared, and before you knew it you were flat your back was flat on her black silk sheets, as you engaged in another hot and heavy makeout session.

“I want you, Yena,” you said as you tenderly kissed her sensitive neck, wrapping your arms around her slim waist again as your hands roamed all over each other’s body desperately as you found her irresistible.

“And I want you to fuck me,” she said, quick to divest your shirt off your body as she admired your bare chest.

This Yena knew exactly what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to ask for it.

“Fuck me like you’ve fucked Eunbi,” Yena said. She had the same lustful stare from earlier, this time more intense and hungry.

“Eunbi is usually the one in control,” you said, matching her gaze and trying to keep up her intensity.

“Then I guess it’s your turn. Must be your lucky day.”

“Considering I got a blowjob from the hottest blonde before noon today, I’d agree with you,” you said, briefly letting Yena react before you grabbed her body and pulled her onto the bed, switching places with her. She smirked.

“Fuck me,” Yena repeated, the look in her eyes growing with intensity even more. It wouldn’t be that hard for you to give in to her demands as you dove into her neck again, sucking away at the tender skin until you were stopped.

“D-don’t leave a mark, Eunbi will kill us.”

“Then let her kill us.“

Yena took a second to think. “I’d rather have your lips somewhere else.“

Without hesitation, she grabbed the hem of her black top, lifting it up and over her head and tossing it away in the distance. Your eyes feasted on her full round breasts covered in a lacy black bra that demanded to be free.

Yena always dressed rather conservatively at work, wearing buttoned-up shirts or blouses that covered up her chest without any real hint as to what she was working with. It was a nice surprise to see how busty she was.  

“What do you think? They’re nowhere near as big as Eunbi’s,” she said, somehow disappointed even after showing off such a delicious set of supple tits.

“I think they’re perfect.”

You didn’t waste any time, allowing your hands to take over as they caressed over any exposed skin you could find as you felt her tight, toned midriff, kissing her collarbone on both sides and falling into a trance at the sight of her nearly exposed breasts.

Yena had as little patience as you did, reaching behind her back with one hand as she unhooked the clasp of her bra, hastily wanting to be rid of the piece of fabric. She watched your reaction as she removed the straps off her shoulders, stripping off the garment and disposing of it to leave her full breasts exposed for your eyes only.

You grew breathless at the sight of her exposed juicy tits, mouth salivating at the sight of perfectly pale and round mounds of flesh that nothing else no longer mattered to you.

Yena lifted her arms over her head, giving you the perfect view of her now topless body and exposed pale skin as her breasts bounced. You couldn’t resist any longer as you cupped her sizable tits, squeezing the soft flesh that fit perfectly into your hands that earned the cutest of moans from her as you kneaded them gently.

“Taste them. Taste me,” Yena said, her voice full of need as you kept your hands full, never wanting to stop playing with her large tits that felt so pillowy soft to the touch.

“Do you like my tits?” she asked, clearly already knowing the answer. You couldn’t get enough of them, both your hands and eyes were drawn to them like a moth to a flame, massaging the warm flesh as you ran a thumb over both nipples, causing them to harden against your touch and eliciting cute gasps.

“I fucking love them,” you said, immediately diving in and latching your lips around one of her stiff nipples, sucking gently on it as your other hand fondled the one not in your mouth. Yena whined cutely, her body jerking at the pleasure as your lips and tongue stayed attached to her stiffened nipple that you never wanted to leave.

Yena’s beautiful eyes closed shut for a moment as you switched breasts, your lips attacking each and every part of her voluptuous chest as you slurped on her nipples until they were drenched in saliva and swollen, suckling with purpose and desire.

She was falling apart by the second as you messily sucked her tits, and you felt the need to give her even more. You wanted her to melt into a puddle as you gradually traveled a hand down her pants, into her underwear and slipped a finger into her tight pussy.

Yena gasped and her hips bucked as your finger explored her hole, your digit being coated liberally with the slick juices that had formed. She squirmed and writhed underneath you wildly as you fucked her hole slowly, earning several muted moans as you couldn’t help but continue kissing her as she moaned into your mouth

“You’re so wet, Yena,” you said, slowly pumping into her cunt back and forth, feeling the tightness of her walls gripping your finger harshly, the wet womanly juices abundant on your fingers as you played with her wet folds two knuckles deep.

“I’m wet because of you.”

Those words brought a smile to your lips, finding motivation to move deeper as the only sounds escaping from Yena’s lips was a series of gasps and moans as you brought a second finger inside, pumping into her as deep to the very hilt as wanton desire flooded her body.  

“F-fuck, I need you inside me. Not just your fingers, I need you to fuck me. Now.”

You couldn’t quite tell if she was begging or demanding, either way you weren’t going to let her request go unanswered. You gave a few more pumps before withdrawing your wet messy fingers out of her hole before making a show of licking them clean.

“You’re delicious, Yena.”

She gave a shy smile in response, and you were quick to work the zipper of her pants, forcibly yanking down both her pants alongside her underwear. Yena was left completely naked and all her beautiful curves on display for you and nothing could make you take your eyes off her.

Yena’s nude body was impeccable, a beautiful work of art from head to toe - perfect breasts, tight tummy, plentiful thighs, and the prettiest pussy, clean-shaven and dripping wet, delicious pink flesh ready to be devoured.

Yena instinctively spread her legs for you, and while you were nothing but eager to give her a taste you frowned as you felt your face being pushed away and denied of such a succulent treat.

“I can’t wait any longer, just fuck me.”

While you lamented the loss of having her thighs around your head, you couldn’t argue with her as you quickly stripped to match her state of undress, sending clothes flying off of your body in a blur.

You were equally eager to get started as you knelt and positioned yourself between Yena’s spread legs, admiring her pink flesh dripping with arousal as you took your cock and lined it up with her entrance. It took everything in your power to not immediately shove your needy cock deep inside Yena, wanting to savor the experience of initial penetration.

Her pretty pink pussy was more than ready for your cock as you rubbed your shaft between her slippery lips, feeling the heat from between her pussy inviting you in. Yena couldn’t take much more of your teasing, unable to control herself as she snatched your shaft out of your hand and slipped the tip of your cock inside her dripping heat, parting her warm flesh as you entered her pussy for the first time.

“Oh f-fuck…” she moaned as she let go of the tight grip she had on of your cock, letting you do the rest as you pushed in deeper to allow your tip to disappear inside her wanton body.

“A little impatient aren’t we?” you teased, gingerly moving your swollen cockhead in and out of Yena’s tight pussy as the intense warmth and wetness surrounded your rigid shaft.

“Y-yes. Don’t make me beg.”

“But that sounds like so much fun,” you said as a wry smile washed over your face.

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Yena bluntly said, as if she had flipped a switch from begging to demanding. When a woman asked you to fuck her, you wouldn't dare disappoint.

You moved slowly inside Yena with a gentle but steady pace, using your hips as you gave smooth, gentle strokes, watching the slick pink lips of her tight pussy being stretched out with the first few inches of your shaft.

“More. I can take it, give me all of you,” Yena said as she let out a series of whiny moans, tossing blonde hair back and placing her hands flat on the mattress.

Yena looked up with an insatiable desire as she bit her lip, and you followed her instructions as inch by inch you slid in deeper into her cunt, keeping your eyes focused on her, only finding deep pleasure in her eyes.

Keeping the movements smooth as possible you worked every inch inside, letting her tight pussy swallow up your shaft until you had bottomed her out, sharing gasps and moans of being completely inside her.

“That’s it, just like that. Fuck, you’re so big,” Yena blurted out as she gritted her teeth, letting herself adjust to your length and gasping at the hard flesh buried inside her cunt.

“So fucking tight,” you said, unable to think straight at the sensations of you being buried to hilt inside the incredibly sexy blonde you were lucky enough to now be inside. Yena’s eyes signaled for you to keep going and you did so without hesitation, sliding every inch that had been covered in her wet juices again and again.

Yena grew relaxed as the time went on, every thrust as pleasurable as could be as you fucked, finding the perfect rhythm. You impaling her with every inch with deep strokes and you felt overwhelmed by the tight grip of her drenched wet lips.

“Does that feel good?” you asked, watching Yena carefully. It took her a moment to process your words, pleasure running its course throughout her body.

“It feels amazing. Fuck me harder.”

You were happy to fulfill her request, having your fill of build-up. Grabbing onto Yena’s slender waist, you used more power in your hips as you granted harder thrusts, driving yourself deep with every movement and upping your pace gradually.

It was a wonderful sight to see. Yena’s gorgeous naked body was rocked by your deep thrusts, causing her beautiful breasts to bounce deliciously with every pop of your hips as her pretty mouth stayed open, releasing a mass of satisfied moans. She grew progressively wetter the longer you fucked her, every inch of your hard shaft covered in her essence as kept yourself buried balls deep at the end of every thrust.

“Come on, I said to fuck me harder,” Yena said with a fire in her eyes, unsatisfied

with your current pace. You had been holding back, not wanting to hurt her and also savoring the feeling of every entrance and exit into her wet cunt.

The chains had been unshackled and you were going to give in to both of your desires, fueled by the lust and hunger in her eyes. Without the need for build-up you immediately intensified your thrusts, slamming your hips against her tight body and fucking Yena with deep strokes into her body that gave spikes of pleasure.

Your rhythm grew harsher as you pistoned into her pussy, the bed creaking and rocking against the bedroom wall. In no time at all the room filled with the lustful sounds of pleasure and smacking of hot flesh against hot flesh as your naked bodies became misted with sweat. You leaned forward and captured Yena’s full bouncing breasts with your fingertips, squeezing the soft flesh as her pretty moans grew louder and whinier.

“There you go. Pound that tight little pussy,”

With your hands full of Yena’s plentiful tits you let out your own series of lustful noises, growls and grunts that sounded more animalist by second as you kept slamming your cock into Yena, finding the perfect angle as the walls of her dripping warm hole became more of a tight fit by the second.

“Fuck, that’s so good, don’t fucking stop!”

You kept the intensity up as sweat dripped down your forehead, exerting all the energy and power you had in your hips. You didn’t care if the bed underneath you was going to give out and collapse, all that mattered was the sharp pleasure you were feeding the both of you.

“Oh my god, I’m going to cum!” Yena desperately cried out, the pulsating walls of her heat confirming her words as they squeezed your cock and released repeatedly as you continued pushing her over the edge.

Running your hands all her bare skin you felt all you could of Yena’s pale bare skin, gliding your palms over her soft flushed skin. Yena reached for your hands as you interlocked your fingers with her, feeling her small hands squeezing yours as you repeatedly drove yourself inside her and helped Yena chase her impending climax.

“I’m cumming!”

You didn’t dare stop moving your rapidly pistoning shaft as Yena came hard all over your cock, her breathing audibly speeding up as her toes curled, and her hips bucked with a mind of their own. Her orgasm was so loud and so violent as the entire bed frame shook, her slim fingers squeezing the life out of your own and pounded her straight through every second of her orgasm.

It took several moments for Yena to recover from her orgasm, coming back to life as her breath slowly came back to its usual state. With your hands still linked when Yena you gradually slowed down your hips until you were barely moving inside her, leaning as far as you could and lifted her arms over her head.

“You’re really good at this,” Yena said, every syllable gasping for air as she softly kissed your lips as she looked into with glazed over eyes.

“Good at what?”

“At making me cum. I can still feel it,” Yena said weakly, a shy smile overtaking her features. She leaned into to give you one more kiss as her eyes continued to stay half-lidded as she recovered from her euphoric bliss.

“It’s your turn now. You must be close, right?” Yena asked, catching her breath, her delicious chest heaving hypnotically.

“I’ve got a little left,” you said, looking into Yena’s eyes once more as she gave off a proud smile.

“Keep fucking me then. Take me however you want.”

You didn’t exchange any more words as you slowly withdrew your cock from inside Yena, your cock stained with her messy juices that glistened in her bedroom lights. You immediately knew how you wanted her as you grabbed her hips and turned her body over, letting you see her cute backside for the first time.

Yena quickly received your message and got into position on hands and knees, raising her tight ass and shaking it as she brought a hand between her creamy thighs and played with her splayed pink lips, looking back erotically.

“Shove that nice cock back inside me.”

There was no time to waste in a moment like this, but you allowed yourself just a second to admire Yena’s bent over body in the best position, face down into the mattress and her delicious ass raised up in preparation for what was next.

Yena wasn’t left empty for very long as you returned your cock back inside her, finding it impossible to tease her as you slid back inside with one smooth stroke. She was even wetter after her orgasm, and in this position she felt much tighter, the snugness of her walls almost too much to bear as you picked up speed and fucked her from behind.

“Oh fuuuck…”

Just like before you didn’t bother with any build-up, immediately re-establishing your pace and ramming your cock slick with her juices at a swift pace, earning sinful gasps and moans from the moaning blonde.

The view in front of you was perfect. Yena’s bent over body, the perfect arch of her back, pristine pale skin from head complete with beautiful pink lips that your cock was spearing repeatedly, it was all surreal to experience.

The air felt light as you felt the tightness of warm flesh wrapped around your shaft, you wondered how you lucked into sleeping with a fourth different member of Eunbi’s team, each woman a unique sexual experience in their own individual way.

Yena’s wide hips were the perfect resting spot for your hands as you thrusted harshly into her, giving deep firm strokes that hit her most pleasurable spot as you found her favorite angle. Her cheeks jiggled with every rock of your hips as you smacked up against her tight body, constant wetness and warmth suffocating your shaft.

“Just like that, you’re so fucking deep, oh god…”

It wasn’t enough just to take her in this position, you desperately needed more. With one hand on her hip, you grabbed the front of her shoulder with the other and pulled her back until her body was upright with yours, her sweaty back pressed up against your chest. The newly found position added for even deeper penetration and a heightened sense of intimacy, with the additive incentive of Yena able to moan closer to your ears.

“I’m starting to think you like my pussy,” Yena said.

“I love it. Your pussy feels so fucking good, I want to be inside you all night.”

“Do you like it more than Eunbi?” Yena said. “You don’t have to answer.”

You were thankful she didn’t need an answer for such an impossible question, one that you would be able to answer in a million years. Your thoughts resumed back to the dripping hot flesh wrapped around your cock that you were pounding into, desperate to take as much pleasure from her body as possible.

“That’s it, just like that! Fuck me as hard as you can!”

Yena’s lustful words and sensual moans were music to your ears. Part of you worried that you were being too rough, but when the screams and moans that were a constant stream from Yena’s lips you knew otherwise.

You did everything you could to keep Yena in this position, holding onto her body with one hand to ensure her body stayed upright. Your other hand had reached around to her plentiful chest, grabbing the breast closest to you as best as you could and squeezing the soft mound harshly all while you were ramming into her tight cunt at full speed.

“Oh f-uck! Fuck me just like this, fuck me until you cum in me!”

You hadn’t heard a better set of encouraging words all week. The room grew hotter by the second, each thrust into Yena’s warmth sending shockwaves of pleasure. Your hips worked overtime, smacking harshly against her sweaty body as the beautiful echo of flesh slapping echoed in the room.

It was your turn to be greedy as you gave everything you had, desperately craving your release the same way Yena had taken hers already. Your bodies intertwined as you ravaged Yena’s tight body, using all your leftover energy to give in to your animalistic desires.

“I”m so fucking close,” you growled, keeping up the merciless pace, each thrust being buried to the hilt inside Yena’s tight pussy, aching for your release. The loud smack against her ass, the wetness of her tight pussy, it was all far too much to handle.

“I want you to cum, I need you to cum inside me, please. Cum inside me like you have inside Eunbi, please, please cum inside my tight little pussy,” Yena begged, once again her switch being turned on as she turned in a cute whimpering mess.

There wasn’t a chance of doing anything else.

You didn’t want it all to end. The creak of Yena’s bed that you swore was liable to break at any second, the deep guttural moans that escaped her lips, and the wet squelch of her dripping tight cunt as you endlessly pounded into her, a sound that intoxicated you as it entered your ears, you wanted it all to last for eternity.

Just a few more thrusts was all you had left, at the peak of your final one you slammed hard and buried yourself deep into her dripping cunt and exploded, throbbing violently and filling her walls with thick hot cum. Yena tilted her head to meet yours and interrupted your moans with her warm lips as you filled her tight cavern to the brim with hot cum, muffled moans desperate to escape each other’s tired mouths as you emptied every drop into her hot tight body.

The look of satisfaction in Yena’s eyes was unforgettable as her pussy milked you dry, aching for more as you shared one final kiss, struggling to remember where you were. You crashed together on top of the tortured mattress, sweaty bodies stacked together as you rested inside her warmth, spent and depleted of stamina as you kissed the shoulders, neck, and upper back of the woman who you just had the most exhausting and satisfying sex with.

“That...was...amazing…” Yena said, syllables difficult to form as much as the depleted air in her lungs. Once you came back to your senses, you gradually withdrew your cock from her freshly fucked pussy, watching as your thick milky load stained her pink splayed lips and thighs, introducing itself to her expensive bed sheets.

When it was all said and done you found yourself underneath Yena’s tired and sweaty body, trying to fix the messy strands of her disheveled hair as the idea of moving a muscle felt impossible.

“You okay?” you asked, hoping you weren’t too rough on the young girl, finding stringing a sentence together in your post orgasm haze a foreign concept.

“I’ve never been better.”

                                                       ✦✦

Detective Kwon twirled her pen repeatedly as she looked over the multi-page report on her desk from security analyst Choi Yena. Several things had happened over the course of the past six hours that Eunbi involuntarily skipped lunch, only able to fit in a few granola bars and a bottle of water. While some of the terminology stated wasn’t familiar to her, she got the gist of and signed off on the necessary security upgrades, routine password changes, and additional security staff employed around the more vulnerable areas of the precinct.

Eunbi grew endlessly frustrated at the situation, finding the case at an impasse. She had investigated dozens of suspects and witnesses over the course of several weeks, all that energy put into a failed raid was causing her to lose faith in her job as head detective.

Taking a deep sigh Eunbi rested her head on her desk, trying to momentarily forget about the troubles of her job. Not even getting a few seconds of respite her phone rang, the vibration nearly causing it to fall off her no longer organized desk. She hesitated at first to answer, not only since it wasn’t usual for her to get calls after hours but also from a private number, ultimately choosing to answer at the last second.

“Detective Kwon speaking.”

“Detective...this phone call has been a long time coming.”

“Who is this? How did you get this number?”

“That’s not important. It seems your entire case has fallen apart at the seams hasn’t it? That’s rather unfortunate.”

“Listen here, whoever the hell you are I will find you and l-”

“Relax, detective. I’m not here to cause any more trouble than you already have. I’d like to offer you a deal.”

“I’m sorry but I’m not interested-”

“You’re trying to catch Patriarch Goda, isn't that correct, Detective? It seems like you’ve run low on luck lately.”

“I’m not at liberty to discuss any information pertaining to any of our ongoing cases. It’s all strictly confidential.”

“That’s too bad, then. I guess you won’t be interested in any information I have on the patriarch’s whereabouts.”

“I’m listening.”

“I can tell you everything you need to know. His hideouts, his clan members, I can even give you detailed information on his weapon supply. All I need is one thing in return.”

“And what exactly would that be?”

“You have two of my men in custody. Takabe-san and Kasuga-san. They haven’t been formally charged with any crimes if my research is correct.”

“I’ve already told you I can’t discuss confidential information, especially over the phone.”

“Then let’s speak hypothetically. If there were any men arrested under those names, were they to be released I have information to use at your will regarding Patriarch Goda.”

“How do I know this information is accurate?”

“I’ll send one of Goda’s hideouts free of charge as a gesture of goodwill. When both of my men have been released I’ll give you everything you need about him, what you do with that information is up to you, detective.”

“Why would you give up this information in trade? Are these men that important to you?”

“Loyalty is important, and these men have been loyal to me since day one. I find the patriarch’s methods detestable and I’ve seen too much unnecessary bloodshed under his command. I wish to take over his clan and become the new patriarch.”

“That sounds very ambitious. I’m not exactly convinced about this.”

“What choice do you have, detective? You don’t exactly have many options at this point I gather?”

“Fine. Your men haven’t done anything to be charged with anyways.”

“Good choice, detective. I’ll give you twenty-four hours to release my men, bring them to the pier by the northern highway at midnight. Come alone.“

Eunbi didn’t have a chance to respond when the caller on the other end hung up, Whoever it was was right, she didn’t have many options at this point.

                                                        ✦✦

“This is clearly a setup, Detective Kwon. It all sounds too good to be true,” said Sakura, the worry in her eyes visible as the sun was bright.

“I’d have to agree, it sounds like the perfect opportunity for a trap.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. If they try anything I can distract them with these,” Eunbi said, grabbing two handfuls of her large breasts as she flashed a cheeky smile.

“We’ll have a small backup team nearby as a precaution.”

“If you really think that’s necessary, but make sure you stay far away. I don’t want them to get spooked.”

“Of course, detective.”

“This is our second chance. Let’s not waste it.”

#izone smut #yena smut #izone #yena #male reader #reader insert #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction

[yan-genshin]

a/n: i admittedly have just finished the ‘goodbye archaic lord’ quest so i can’t say i’m very knowledgeable on zhongli/morax’s backstory- if any of this is ooc or seems a bit odd that’s um... my fault for being a slow and not very good Gamer(tm)

warning: general yandere contents

❥ zhongli

the well-put together and cordial man known as zhongli today, despite all he does to act as a mortal, is still in the end the man who was the archon of war. even though his days of being a violent warmonger and bloodthirsty archon are well past him, there’s certain things that never die; the instinct to claim, to conquer, still sometimes seems to burn deep down

but self control and patience are things that zhongli seems to have in abundance. ‘love’ is an emotion that he thinks isn’t entirely strange to him- but there’s just things that such an ancient archon can’t understand. the way archons love and humans love are just different, incompatible almost, and zhongli doesn’t seem as if he’s willing to change the way in which he loves

it seems easy to brush off his actions at first. he’s a gentleman- surely his habits of always escorting them when they’re out, his possessiveness, his insistence on them not getting too close to others; surely it’s just his old fashioned way of showing affection, him bringing forth long dead traditions. it’s so very much in character, so easy to not pay too much mind to

“you were talking to one of the sailors quite a bit today.” zhongli is, as always, calm and composed as he sips on his cup of tea. the bitter and rich aroma of the herbs wafts through the air, mixing in with the salty breeze of the ocean closeby and the lingering smells of the various restaurants and food stalls on the street. he doesn’t seem annoyed or angry, but his words still seem to almost imply some sort of displeasement. it’s hard to not apologize despite having done nothing wrong- they’re in their right to speak to whoever they please, there’s nothing wrong in that- but zhongli takes the apology with a smile. the feeling of something being wrong nestles deep in their chest, of how odd it is zhongli is even worked up about this, but it’s quickly brushed off as the gentleman offers them a cup of tea.

it’s almost draconic, how he hoards his darling. fitting perhaps for morax, for rex lapis, but coming from zhongli? it’s almost shocking how possessive he is. he has a clear disdain of others interacting with them, almost as if he believes all to have an ulterior motive. his long life has taught him that most humans- while weak and fascinating creatures- are also capable of unspeakable evil, capable of taking advantage of anyone they can, and he can’t help but see his darling as a weak little creature in a den of lions if he isn’t there to guard them

being the god of contracts, zhongli takes agreements seriously. what might have seemed like a cheesy promise to “stay by his side forever and never leave” isn’t just an empty sentence to him. he’ll gladly take it as a promise, hold it against them, use it to justify his actions

ideally, zhongli would like his partner to stay in his home, to act out all those old fashioned courtship and romantic costumes only he seems to remember. it’s almost as if he thinks that bringing flowers and gifts somehow makes up for the fact he’s quite literally isolating them, prohibiting them from leaving

in zhongli’s mind, his darling not wanting to do as he says is just... a temporary setback. surely they’ll come around, they’ll love him as he does: after all, humans get attached to those who are close and those who are doting, don’t they? he’s providing for them, he’s caring for the, he loves them, he’s just doing the best for them... they’ll come around. they promised to stay by his side, by the terms of the contract, they must.

even though he isn’t awake, he’s still holding them down. the house is quiet, only the vague noises of liyue’s nightlife filtering in through the closed windows. the architecture here is beautiful, but they’ve almost grown to resent the beautiful windows with wooden arches and details that make it impossible to jump through even when open. well, it’s not as if they could even get close to doing so: a slight shuffle makes zhongli grunt in his sleep, arms tightening around them in an almost uncomfortable manner. it makes them feel claustrophobic, an emotion they’ve become well acquainted with: how long has it been since they’ve truly been outside? not guided around by zhongli, not under his gaze, just free. they’ve even considered praying to barbatos for freedom, but even they know it’s useless. something makes them feel like even the archon of another region wouldn’t be of any use, not against zhongli’s overwhelming affections

there’s very little comforts to hold onto. sure, zhongli lives in a nice house, there’s never food missing, he seems to be keen to decorate them with clothes and accessories, especially fond of dressing them up in traditional liyue garb that’s hard to walk around in and not very much comfortable. but there’s no real calm- whenever he leaves the funeral home, smelling of incense and flowers, he treats them as if though he wasn’t holding them hostage, treats them tenderly enough to be unnerving

perhaps the only shred of light for his darling is the fact zhongli seems to be convinced they’ll come around, and he waits. sure, he’s much more touchy than he should be- soft caresses, chaste kisses, holding them as they sleep- but he doesn’t force much of his love on them, instead patiently waiting as the isolation and cabin fever slowly break down his darling’s resistance. said in nice words, one could say zhongli is waiting for his beloved to want his love- in accurate words, he’s waiting until they’re so broken they have no other human contact other than zhongli’s affection.

people in liyue speak of him and them. about how fitting it is for a gentleman like zhongli to have found such a docile and traditional spouse, always waiting for him at home, never leaving his side. indeed, from outsiders’ perspective, everyone seems to think that perhaps the eccentric man just found a partner that’s as willing to stick to old rules; when they see zhongli take his darling out on dates they think the fact that they keep their eyes on the ground and their hand always on zhongli’s is nothing but old fashioned respect rather than them having been broken down to a husk of who they once were

of course they’d all think they’re married. the way zhongli seems to always be by their side, the way they’re always holed up in the house, only being seen by the funeral parlor worker’s side; surely only someone in a committed relationship would do that! it irks zhongli at times- clearly, the proper matrimony rites haven’t been taken yet- but it makes his life easier, so he doesn’t correct the townspeople when they ask him how his spouse is doing. when time comes, he’ll surely host a small private wedding, a ceremony where he’ll invite the remaining adepti, a ceremony that feels at home with archaic customs and rituals; for now, it’s enough to gaze into his darling’s empty, empty eyes as he holds them close

“you’ve been quite good recently, haven’t you? perhaps we should go out to eat tonight.” he’s quite pleased with how his darling has progressed. it turns out that all he needed for them to hold up their end of the contract was a bit of time- time spent completely alone with no other contact than him, time spent locked inside the house, time spent with zhongli harshly reprimanding them for trying to escape, with only him for months and months until their basic human instincts for affection and the stress of it all just made them break. as they are now, they surely couldn’t survive by themselves; almost like a pet, they just sit by his side, allow him to pet their hair and kiss them, spending their time when he’s away just idly reading or organizing the house, not even trying to test if he forgot to lock the door. it pleases him deeply: they’re entirely his, and he’s entirely theirs. he toys with the hem of the sleeve on their traditional garb he helped them into this morning, he loves to see them dressed in clothes that remind him of times when liyue dearly worshipped the adepti and lived by traditions he now finds himself missing. as they just nod and lean into his touch, he hums happily- he’s sure that liyue pavillion will be happy to accommodate him and his darling, as they always are “glad to welcome master zhongli and his spouse” with little to no questions about much

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact zhongli #yandere genshin impact #yandere tw

[diavolosthots]

DARK DECEPTION CHAPTER 14

READ CHAPTER 13 HERE

Warnings: none

Pairing(s): Lucifer x F!Reader, Michael

“Michael.” The name left your lips as if you had known him for forever, but the almost weird look he gave you meant that you did not, in fact, know him forever. He wasn’t mad, per se, but he wasn’t happy either. Maybe that’s just his face, though? God you hoped it was because if not then you feared this was all your fault. Lucifer’s grip on your waist tightened momentarily before he wrapped his coat tighter around you, almost protectively. He didn’t trust Michael and he hated that he needed to ask him for help, but it’s worth it if it meant you’re safe. “Yes, that’s my name. I assume Lucifer told you all about me.” Oh Lord no. You almost wanted to laugh at that assumption. Does he even know Lucifer? The guy would rather keep everything to himself than ever spill anything. Maybe he wasn’t like that as an angel? Was Lucifer that much different back then? You truly wondered. “He… didn’t say a lot, if we’re being completely honest. It’s still nice to meet you though.” Michael still gave you that expressionless face and it almost calmed you. Maybe it truly was just who he is. “Likewise, but sadly I’m not here to talk over tea.” Who would’ve thought. 

Lucifer looked at you and gently pushed you off of him and stood up from his chair, “stay here. Don’t go anywhere. We’ll b--!” “no. She can stay, after all, it concerns her as well.” Oh he didn’t like that at all. The plan was to keep you out of it as much as possible and yet, Michael seemed to completely disregard that. “The Devildom isn’t happy about their Queen being gone.” You wanted to roll your eyes, really. Their Queen? You never even said hi to those people after the wedding. You didn’t even meet most of the people at the wedding! “Well they can get used to it.” Lucifer whipped his head toward you and if this wasn’t such a serious matter, he might have found you cute in his oversized coat right now, pouting, no. Frowning. Even Michael managed to crack a small smile, “I’m afraid it isn’t that simple. Diavolo declared war and although I doubt he knows exactly where she is right now, he’s sure to figure it out. You need to stop him. I’m not putting the celestial realm at risk.” Lucifer knew that much. He knew this would only be a temporary solution but he still hoped to avoid that. Even now, Diavolo did help him a lot after the fall, after everything, and although their friendship never meant as much to himself as it did to Diavolo, Lucifer did choose this route and he didn’t calculate the consequences. Well, he did, but he wasn’t, shamefully admitted, prepared. 

“I know, Michael, and I’m not asking you to. I just need you to keep her safe.” No matter what. He’s trying to be realistic here, he has to be. Seven brothers against an army of Demons and their strongest fighter, their King, is almost laughable. Can you even imagine it? Lucifer has to prepare for the worst possible outcome and sadly, the chances for it far outweigh the good outcome. Michael knows that, too, which is why he made Lucifer an offer earlier, one he never declined or accepted, “You know what I said, Lucifer. It’s all up to you.” All up to him. He’s used to that; he deals with that every day. All his brothers, in one way or another, rely on him. Everyone relies on him. And yet, he doesn’t like that this decision weighs on his shoulders right now. He doesn’t want to think about that scenario, but it’s also so, so hard to be optimistic. “I know. Thank you. I’ll… prepare.” Because that’s all he can do. “We still have your armor, if you want it.” His armor… so many bad memories circle around that thing and although he used to wear it with pride, it will never be like it once was. “Thank you, Michael.” Does it still fit? Still protect him? Will it keep him safe long enough to do what needs to be done?

You watched the two men in front of you, confused and scared. Obviously there’s a lot of history between them, history that you will never understand; could never understand. You didn’t dare speak until Michael left again either, glancing at you before turning on his heel, “Lucifer?” Your voice was soft and it almost hurt his heart. His head turned to look over you, cozy in his coat which didn’t fit the bright room at all; just another reminder that this isn’t where he belongs anymore. “I’m sorry, Darling… I know this is confusing.” Confusing? “Diavolo just declared war and you think that’s confusing me? That’s the clearest part about this! Don’t tell me you’re thinking of fighting after I just got you back!?” His eyes said everything and it was enough to make tears form again in yours, threatening to spill over. His eyes went wide after that and he’s quick to pull you into his arms, pushing your face into his chest. It hurts to see you like that and he knows you’ll be worried. He knows it’ll kill you even if it doesn’t kill him. 

“I have to… I’m not letting you go back there, (Y/N).” “You don’t even have an army!” You wanted to punch him, to scream at him, to pull at his hair until some type of sense entered his brain, but you didn’t. Instead, you pulled away to look at him with anger and sadness and hurt, “I can’t lose you, Lucifer….” “You won’t.” “You don’t know that!” You’re right… he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know anything, and unlike Barbatos, he can’t see the future, which is another part that worries him. “Maybe Michael knows something….” it was mumbling, meant so more for himself. He forced a smile, cupping your face and leaning down to kiss you softly, “I’m going, (Y/N). I have to. My brothers are down there and I’m not sure how long they can last without me… You’ll be safe up here. Michael promised.” He better keep that promise too. That’s the only time Lucifer begged and the only thing Lucifer ever begged for. You shook your head, beating your fists against his chest, but he only leaned in to kiss your head. “I’m getting ready… help me?” 

If you weren’t so caught up in the potential of losing him, you may have paused in shock at his request for help, but you can’t just let him run off! “Lucifer!” He let go of you to walk to his old closet, staring at the double white doors, adorned in gold. For the longest time, he just stared, almost too scared to open them, but he needed to get over himself. Gloved hands reached out for the knob, opening them both. Immediately, he was met with his old clothes. White and gold, like everything else. Pure. Elegant. An image of his past. And then there it was, his armor, pushed to the far end of the closet. It was pure gold and heavy, usually worn over his usual white outfit, but protecting. The chest plate would protect him from any immediate danger, the heavy boots would keep his feet light and energized; perks of celestial magic. Vambraces would keep his arms protected and, of course, there was a sword. He hated that thing, honestly, and he’s almost sure whoever invented this just put it in for decoration, but it might come in handy today. 

Pulling it out almost felt too foreign. He only wore it once; that one time he fought for God and with the angels, but he trained in it often enough to know what it feels like. He stared at it, almost sadly, before taking all the pieces and laying them on his bed, shifting into his demon form. Even now, even up here, he felt more comfortable in this than he ever did as an angel. “Lucifer… stop.” but he didn’t listen. He took off his long coat and anything else that might come in the way, putting the chest plate on first and then attaching the back to it. His wings fit in perfectly still, although the middle holes aren’t being filled anymore and he knew it. He could feel it. He hated it. “Lucifer!” Once again, he ignored you, putting on the boots that would cover him up to his knees. This definitely looked better when he wore white and his black pants are more than weird-feeling with these. Next were the vambraces, which thankfully still allowed him his gloves, and last but not least… “(Y/N). Give me the Sword.” You shook your head, holding the golden weapon tightly and off to the side when Lucifer reached for it. 

“No! You’re not leaving!” “(Y/N).” “This is a suicide mission Lucifer!” He knew that. He knew that all too well. “I can’t let him win, (Y/N).” “W-we… we can figure it out! Don’t go! I’m sure that Michael--!” “(Y/N)!” He raised his voice, stern. He wasn’t mad at you, he knows you’re hurting, but he can’t waste anymore time and it at least got you to stop. He reached for the sword again, taking it out of your grasp and clasping it to his belt. “I’ll be fine.” He may not be but he won’t admit that. Your eyes were wide in shock; he had never yelled at you, no matter how mad he was. “Lucifer….” “It’s okay.” He pulled you back into him, kissing your head again before just resting his cheek against it, “I love you, Darling. I’ll be back before you know it.” You pulled back from him, the tears spilling again as fear rushed through you, “promise… promise me you’ll be back…..” His eyes were expressionless, searching yours before kissing you once more and finally stepping back, heading toward the door with only one thing left to say.

“I promise.” 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #lucifer x mc #obey me lucifer #lucifer obey me #lucifer avatar of pride #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lord diavolo #shall we date diavolo #obey me diavolo #lord diavolo x mc #obey me diavolo x reader #michael obey me #dark deception

[kuroopaisen]

tiny love || v

➵ as tooru’s younger sister, falling in love with iwaizumi hajime was easy. iwaizumi ultimately decided to rebuff you. but that was a year ago - things are different now. and you have other things to worry about. things like moving halfway across the world for university; and moving in with the very boy who’d broken your heart. 

warnings: f!reader

wc: 4.3k

m.list | ch. 4 ↞ ch. 5↠ ch. 6

Life moved too quickly.

That was the only logical conclusion you could come to after the past few weeks. One minute you’re finding out you’ve got a scholarship to a university overseas, the next you’re spending as much time with your friends as you can without burning out, and then suddenly you’re standing at the airport, suitcase in hand and loved ones lined up in front of you like this is some fantasy RPG and you’re about to go into the final battle.

Your family had said goodbye before, but that didn’t seem to make it any easier. You’re the youngest, after all. The baby.

“Remember to call if you need anything, okay?” Your mother said, smoothing a hand over your hair.

“I know, mum,” you smiled. “I love you.”

She sighed, pulling you into a hug. She said nothing more, letting the slight tremble in her arms say all that was in her heart.

Your father was next, ruffling your hair with a certain melancholy. “Be good, you hear?” He chastised. “Don’t talk to boys.”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “Dad…”

“I’m just saying, there are more important things to focus on,” he nodded sagely. “And don’t go causing any trouble.”

“I won’t,” you nodded. “Promise.”

Kaori was next, a certain mischievous glint in her eyes.

“Send me a photo of every pigeon you come across,” Kaori said.

You grinned at her. “Really?”

“Mhm,” she nodded. “That way I’ll know you’re alive every day.”

You stuck your tongue out at her. “That’s a terrible plan.”

“Is it so wrong for me to want to check up on my little sister?” She teased. “I just want to make sure you won’t forget about me.”

“I won’t,” you laughed. “I’m sure you won’t let me.”

“Too right,” she grinned.

She gave you one good, tight hug. She, more than anyone else in your family, seemed to be the best at swallowing this whole situation. It was a relief to know that someone would be there to console your parents.

Finally, Amaya. She pouted at you, pulling you into a rough hug.

“Don’t forget to text me, okay?” Amaya mumbled, her arms tight around her shoulders. “Or I’ll knife you.”

“I know,” you chuckled, squeezing your grip on her waist. “I’ll keep you updated on everything, don’t worry.”

“You better,” she huffed, pulling away slowly.

Once, you might’ve dreamed of going to the same university together. But life had a funny way of taking your plans and crumbling them to dust in the palm of its hand.

But you were sure that no matter what, your friendship would hold steadfast. Amaya wasn’t the type of person to let things die so easily.

You couldn’t delay any longer.

As you walked through the gate, you wondered if Tooru had felt like this. If he’d been hounded by this unrelenting fear, doubt, and anxiety. If he’d also felt like throwing up. If he had, he’d covered it up well.

That thought didn’t do much to quell the lurching in your stomach.

Tokyo had once felt unbelievably far away. But California? That was a different beast.

✧ ✧ ✧

After a twenty-hour plane ride and two stop offs later, you’d come to the conclusion that airports, in fact, were the most unholy places known to man. Whose fault was it that airports were labyrinthine hellholes which were impossible to navigate?

By the grace of God, or perhaps as an apology for the godforsaken pilgrimage that was your flight, you managed to find the luggage pickup area with relative ease. By the time you managed to haul your suitcase off the baggage carousel you were ready to take a nap for the next three months.

You sighed, looking up at the clock hung high on the wall. 5:21 AM. Ew.

You felt a touch of pity for all the workers rostered on at such an ungodly hour.

Oh, and whoever was responsible for escorting you to your new ‘home’.

As you trundled through that godforsaken place, suitcase trailing behind you and carry-on slung over your shoulder, you were too tired to think and too tired to worry about who might be waiting for you.

That clawing anxiety had gripped you for the first hour or so of your flight, but it’d been completely replaced with other worries.

There’s only fiberglass separating you and an absurdly high fall… what happens if the plane goes down? What happens if one of the wings caught fire? What if one of the doors inexplicably ripped off mid-flight and sucked you out through a vacuum?

Regardless, you’d landed with your soul very much attached to your body – although that in itself presented you with a host of new problems.

You glared at the signs pointing in every conceivable direction, praying that your English was good enough to decrypt this mess for you.

Arrivals. That sounded right.

You dragged your feet in that direction with a big yawn, decorum be damned.

A thin crowd was gathered at the gate, waiting to greet the ragtag group of travellers who filtered through. Mothers, daughters, beloved friends, lovers…

You scanned the crowd with narrowed eyes and the hope that you’d catch sight of some familiarity.

Oh.

There was your name on a placard, written in hiragana.

And holding it…

Shit.

Iwaizumi Hajime. He was glancing around the airport, seemingly a little bleary-eyed.

Your flight-or-fight response was well and truly activated. Had he really shown up at the airport at five in the morning just to pick you up?

Oh no. Oh God. That’s… not what you were expecting. Sure, you’d been told you’d be “picked up” from the airport, but you’d just expected some taxi service or something. Your mum had sorted that all out anyway – she’d insisted that you let her do that, at least, to give her some peace of mind.  

But she hadn’t told you it would be Iwaizumi picking you up. Were you supposed to have assumed that? Fuck.

With the inside of your cheek trapped between your teeth and a sinking feeling in your gut, you dragged yourself towards him.

Each step you took towards him just seemed to make him look even hotter. He was wearing a loose white shirt, but you could tell that he was built. Even more built than he’d been when he left. He hadn’t done his hair in that spiky Godzilla style he used to, and it’s longer than when you’d last seen him. He’s gotten a tan, too – an unfairly flattering golden tan.

And he was wearing a pair of fucking grey sweatpants.

I’m going to die, you thought. It’s official. I am the world’s biggest idiot, and Iwaizumi Hajime will be the cause of my death via cardiac arrest.

Was it too presumptuous to text your family your goodbyes?

He caught sight of you.

You made eye contact for the first time in a year.

What do I do? Your thought, cursing yourself out for being so… so like this.

But Iwaizumi just waved at you with a small smile on his face.

You closed the distance between the two of you with trepidation, scouring your mind for what to say to him.

Hi? How are you? It’s good to see you?

None of those felt quite right. You were much too tired for this. And he was much too hot—

“Hey,” he smiled, dropping his hand to his side.

“Hi,” you nodded, resisting the urge to bow. Should you bow? He is your senior… but this isn’t Japan. But that didn’t change the rules of etiquette, did it?  

“I can carry that, if you need,” he said, nodding towards your luggage.

Under normal circumstances, you probably would have refused on the basis of pride alone. But you’d just flown halfway around the world, and you were doing your best not to drool at the bloody Adonis standing before you.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, handing him your carry-on. You managed to finish the hand off without your fingers brushing, much to your relief.

Iwaizumi observed you for a second, a touch of concern in his eyes. “You okay?”

“Just tired,” you smiled at him weakly. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a lie.

“Understandably,” he chuckled, pulling a set of keys out of his pocket.

You frowned as he jangled them around one finger. “You drive?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “I got my license back in Japan. Managed to transfer it over.”

“Huh,” you said. When had he learned to drive? That’d been happening right next door and you’d had no idea?  

“You ready?” He asked, looking at you over his shoulder as he turned around.

You nodded, tugging on the handle on your suitcase.

The two of you made your way to his car, which turned out to be a dingy-looking thing cobbled together with dull navy metal and rubber.

You said nothing as you packed the luggage into the boot, Iwaizumi doing most of the grunt work. Part of you felt bad, but you knew full-well that he had more strength in his right middle finger than you could ever dream of having.

He strolled around to your side of the car before you had time to remember which side of the road Americans drove on.

“Here you go,” he said. The asshole just had to open your door for you too, didn’t he?

You nodded your thanks, settling into your seat with a little more frustration than feasible.

He’d slipped into the driver’s seat as you finished buckling yourself in, and before you had time to take much of anything in, he was backing out of his parking lot.

You watched him from the corner of your eye.

He looked so… casual, doing this. The Iwaizumi you knew had never been behind the wheel of a car. And yet now, he’s moving like it’s second nature.

How much had you missed? So much must’ve happened while you were out of contact.

“Hey, uh… Iwaizumi?” You mumbled, clenching your fists in your lap.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for picking me up,” you said, chewing on your cheek. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“No problem,” he chuckled.

You felt like you should say something else. But you’re weren’t sure what. He seemed relatively calm, given the situation. Saying the wrong thing could potentially fuck that up.

“How was your flight?” He asked, gently making his way through the car park.

“Uh…” Was there a polite word for ‘awful’? “It was fine.” You shrugged. “I made it here in one piece, so…”

Iwaizumi chuckled. The sound made your stomach flip.

You leant back in your chair, closing your eyes with a sigh. You didn’t know how far away your apartment was. Fifteen minutes? Ten? An hour?

Your brain reeled with potential small-talk topics. There might be a lot of time to fill.

“Take a nap if you need to,” Iwaizumi said.

“Thanks,” you hummed.

Maybe he was aware that he was giving you an out. Maybe he had no idea.

But you were more than happy to take it regardless.

✧ ✧ ✧

A pre-made bed was waiting for you in your room. You blinked at it a few times, the brain-fog of a long flight still clouding your mind.

“I hope you don’t mind,” Iwaizumi said, leaning against your doorframe. “I just got you some sheets because I didn’t think you’ have the energy to sort all that out today.”

You’re going to cry. Cry, and then die.

“Do you need help unpacking?” He asked.

You turned around sharply at those words, waving your hands about. “Oh no, no… I’m fine.”

He looked at you for a moment longer, as if he was appraising you. He simply nodded. “Well, call out if you need me.”

“Yep!” You offered him an unbearably stretched smile.

“Alright,” he said. With that, he was gone.

You sighed, turning to your suitcase. It was laid on the floor, unopened.

Shit. This really was a big move, wasn’t it?

And, you’d moved in with Iwaizumi. Something you’d never expected – not like this, anyway.

Shaking that thought out of your head, you kneeled in front of your suitcase. Something about it felt more reverent than it had any right to. You unzipped it slowly, pushing back the battered red lid to reveal your belongings.

You bit the inside of your cheek, starting with the first layer. You’d packed your pyjamas on the top – a move you’d like to thank younger you for.

As you placed it in your lap, you gazed at the rest of your belongings crammed into your suitcase.

You hadn’t brought all that much. Mostly clothes that you thought would be appropriate for the Californian weather, a few knick-knacks and keepsakes that you felt particularly attached to, a handful of your favourite books, your polaroid camera…

So much had been left behind. You didn’t mind that, for the most part; but it still felt like you were abandoning a part of yourself. Everything you’d accumulated over the past nineteen years, just…

Maybe your parents would hold onto all your things. But it wouldn’t be remiss for them to throw them away.

It’s all just part of growing up. That’s what you told yourself – you had to change, move on and get over it.

If Tooru could do it, you could to. You had to.  

But now it felt like his shadow was hanging over you darker than ever. Part of your own journey had been dictated by him; if he hadn’t recommended you live with Iwaizumi, where would you be?

What was Iwaizumi even like now? Was he a good person? He’d been very nice and polite ever since you’d seen him at the airport, but…

Was he trying to be warm? Or was he keeping you at an arm’s length? Could your ‘friendship’ ever recover from… that?

You swallowed, running a hand over one of your dresses.

Honestly, you just wanted to go to sleep.

You didn’t want to leave the room because that meant you might bump into Iwaizumi. You didn’t want to unpack because you had the sneaking suspicion that it was going to make you feel like crying. You didn’t want to call anyone because you knew you didn’t have the energy to do so.

There was only one thing to do, then.

You managed to drag yourself towards your bed, hoisting yourself onto it with a grunt. You curled up on top of the sheets, wrapping your arms around your knees.

The ache in your eyes didn’t subside as your closed them, but there was nothing else to do.

Attempting to rest was better than nothing.

✧ ✧ ✧

A knock on your door.

You bolted upright, startled out of your uneasy slumber.

“Hey.” Iwaizumi’s voice was distant but distinctive.

“Hm?” You didn’t trust your own voice to hold up.

“You okay?”

You bit your lip. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.”

It wasn’t your best lie,

A long pause followed.

“No, you’re not.” His voice was soft, gentle. Not like what you’d expected.

Although, you weren’t even sure what that was.

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Uh…” You swallowed roughly, crossing your legs. “Yeah. Sure.”

He needed no more prompting, letting himself in and leaning himself against the wall.

There was good distance between the two of you. You’re grateful for it.

“What’s wrong?” He looked genuinely concerned. Why, you didn’t know.

Nor did you know if you should actually tell him. There was admittedly no reason to; at this point in your life, he was just a roommate.

“It’s just…” You sighed, your mouth moving before your brain. “It’s a big move, you know? I don’t think I’m ready for it.”

You’d had this conversation over and over again, both with Tooru and with Amaya. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. I’m not ready. It was the one thought you couldn’t escape, no matter how hard you tried to justify this whole thing to yourself.

“You’re more ready than you know,” he said softly. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “I guess…”

“It’s not easy, but you can do it.” His tone was resolute, not harsh but firm. It almost makes you feel like he’s right. Almost.

“And…” He swallowed, his gaze flicking to the ground. “I’ll look out for you. You’re not alone.”

You weren’t quite sure what those words made you feel.

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Your voice is quiet enough to go unheard, but he smiled. It was only a little smile – one someone who hadn’t known him for so long might’ve missed – but it was genuine. You couldn’t tell if that was a good omen or a grim portent.

“You shouldn’t be thinking about this tonight,” he nodded, standing up straight. “You’re already exhausted, so you’ll only make it harder for yourself.”

You pouted at him, much to your own surprise. Unfortunately, he was right.

“Give me a moment,” he said suddenly, disappearing.

You sighed, lying back on your bed and closing your eyes.

It felt like you’d entered the Twilight Zone.

Maybe things would improve when you started uni. Then you’d have something else to think about that wasn’t just ‘oh God, I moved in with Iwaizumi Hajime and that was stupid, dumb, and a colossal mistake.’

Your instincts were begging you to book a flight and go straight home to Japan. Surely, you might be able to get into some university – sure, you missed the entrance exams, but perhaps…

Were you already chickening out? Tooru had moved halfway across the world entirely on his own, but he’d never once thought about turning back. And yet here you were, lying in your bed feeling like you were about to disintegrate just because your roommate happened to be someone you used to have feelings for.

God, that was pathetic. It was only day one.

“Here you go.”

You flinched, sitting up suddenly.

Iwaizumi stood at the side of your bed, holding a mug out to you. You hadn’t even heard him come in.

“Oh, thanks,” you nodded. As you took it from him, you peeked at the tea bag.

Your favourite. He’d made you your favourite tea. You took a tentative sip.

Shit.

“I hope you still like it that way,” he said, a touch of pink to his cheeks.

It reminded you of winter back home.

“I do.” You looked up at him, giving him a genuine smile.

He smiled right back, his face softening in that rare but stunning way you remembered.

You were a little proud of yourself for keeping it together.

“I, ah…” Iwaizumi cleared his throat, taking a few slow steps away from the bed. “I’m going to go to bed. I’ve got practice early tomorrow, so…”

You nodded.

As you watched him leave, closing your bedroom door on the way, you wondered if you should’ve asked him what his training was for.

But you just sipped your tea.

This really was going to be difficult, wasn’t it?

✧ ✧ ✧

By the time you woke up in the morning, Iwaizumi was out. That was something of a relief. Iwaizumi not being around meant you could explore the apartment without the fear of bumping into him.

So, you took the opportunity, sneaking out of your room and taking stock of the layout of your apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, a living room attached to a kitchen… it wasn’t big, but you weren’t about to complain.

It’s quite a change from the family home you grew up in, but the change is a little exciting. It’s certainly liveable, and you know your parents are grateful for the fact rent was affordable enough.

The apartment was well-tended and clean. You weren’t sure if he’d cleaned it up before you’d arrived – which wasn’t unlikely – or if he usually kept it this neat – which also wasn’t unlikely.

A few photos hung on the wall, some with people you knew, some you didn’t. There were a few photos of the Seijoh team, exhibiting various degrees of chaos. Some others included people that you recognized as his friends from high school, and there were several of himself, Tooru, Hanamaki and Matsukawa. 

Other photos were a total mystery, though. Probably friends from university, a mix of men and women you didn’t recognize.

You didn’t let yourself look at them for too long; your mind was concocting too many questions, too many narratives that made your gut feel all funny.

The only other thing of particular interest was the television and the DVD stand next to it, stuffed full of both Japanese and English movies. Most people streamed these days, but Iwaizumi had always been a bit of a traditionalist when it came to technology.

Regardless, the small size of the apartment meant there wasn’t all that much to explore.

You slunk back to your room after a close inspection of the bathroom, which you decreed as ‘clean enough’.

By the time you passed through the threshold of your room, a quiet blanket of exhaustion settling over you. Jetlag really was a piece of shit.

You tossed yourself on your bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe you could call someone. But you weren’t sure how the time zones lined up. Your parents wouldn’t be happy with you if you woke them up at some ungodly hour, and Kaori needed the rest. Amaya might be up, but you didn’t want to stress her out…

Tooru was an option. He wasn’t that far away in the grand scheme of things, and he might’ve been able to offer some advice…

But he was probably busy. And you’d already bothered him enough.

God, why were you so frustrated? Was it exhaustion? Anxiety? How difficult it was to wrap your head around the situation? You just wanted to sleep for a week.

Before you knew it, your eyes fluttered closed, and you drifted into an uneasy nap.

✧ ✧ ✧

A firm, steady knock cut through your barely conscious mind.

You blinked rapidly, frowning. Shit, did you have another nap? That better not become a habit.

With a groan (and a great deal of strain) you managed to get off your bed, dragging yourself to your door.

You opened it with trepidation.

Iwaizumi stood on the other side with a glass of water in one hand and a bowl of yakisoba with chopsticks poking out of it in the other.

“Uh,” he cleared his throat, eyes flicking to the ground, “you didn’t come out to eat, and I didn’t see any dishes in the sink, so…”

“Ah,” you swallowed. “Right.”

You hadn’t eaten yet. All day.

“Thanks,” you nodded, taking the bowl from him. To his credit, it looked good; plenty of vegetables, and nothing seemed to be burnt. That might be a low bar, but you digressed.

“Would you like to eat at the table?” He asked.

You resisted the urge to stare at him.

Eat at the table? Like… like… a family? Did roommates do that?

“Sure,” you nodded. You’re not really sure why – some fear of hurting his feelings, probably.

But you tottered after him, hoping to God that your stomach would settle enough to allow you to eat.

Iwaizumi settled himself down at the table, his seat already prepared with a glass of water, a bowl, and a pair of chopsticks.

He set the glass of water in his hand down opposite from him, in what seemed to be your designated spot.

You slipped yourself into the seat, taking note of just how uncomfortable it was. Affordability over comfort – a student mantra, apparently.

“How was practice?” You asked. You just wanted to fill the silence. Once upon a time, silence between the two of you wouldn’t have made you feel like crawling out of your own skin.

“It was good,” he nodded. He didn’t seem like he was trying to be terse of anything – Iwaizumi was just a man of succinct, short sentences.

“I’m assuming it’s volleyball?”

He chuckled. “Yeah.”

You took a small bite of your yakisoba. It reminded you of home. “Are you still a wing spiker?” You asked.

“Mhm,” Iwaizumi nodded. “Although there’s a fair bit of competition for the spot.”

“Really?” You asked. You couldn’t imagine a volleyball team where Iwaizumi wasn’t heralded as a magnificent player.

“A lotta guys wanna be the ace,” he grinned.

You smiled. That made sense.

Silence fell over the two of you for a moment as you both focused on your meals. Your appetite was voracious, now – you hadn’t even realised how hungry you were until you’d started eating.

“Did you leave the apartment today?” Iwaizumi asked, making you jump.

“Ah, no,” you shook your head. “I was worried about getting lost.”

“Fair.”

Another silence settled over you, a more pensive expression taking over Iwaizumi’s face.

He was completely unreadable. Probably because you knew nothing about him. Not anymore.

“Would you like me to show you around tomorrow?” He asked.

You blinked at him, completely blindsided.

“We could get lunch,” he offered.

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to process the muddle of feelings inside you.

What on earth was going on? Perhaps he was just reaching out a friendly hand. And, chances were, he felt some kind of duty to protect you.

“Sure,” you smiled. “Sounds great.”

You weren’t stupid enough to push away the only ally you had in this strange new world. Hopefully, other friends would come. But for now, it was just you and Iwaizumi in this little apartment, trying to make this arrangement work.

You had to make it work.

You’d find a way.

✧ ✧ ✧

a/n: aaaa thank you for your support so far! sorry this one’s a bit choppy, but i think you’ll enjoy chapter 6 (i hope sfdlkdfj)

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi hajime x you #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu x reader #tiny love

[jjmaybanksbaby]

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer I

Part 01: Pick Me Up, No Headlights

series masterlist | next part

summary: It’s your first summer in the Outer Banks.

a/n: I'm so so so excited to introduce my new obx series! This whole thing is based off the song Style by Taylor Swift (which I'm sure you've picked up on lol!) This series is going to be about Rafe during HS so Summer I = the summer before 9th grade and so on and so forth. Enjoy!!

word count: 2k

The Outer Banks was a little bit like a fantasy. The way your mom talked about growing up under the North Carolina heat with her fearless twin brother, Austin, the decades-long feud between the Kooks and the Pogues, the endless summers, it all felt like a movie. There was a specific smile that snuck onto her face when she talked about the place. Their parents had moved away from OBX to the mountains while she was still in college and she’d never been back. Last September, her father's health had taken a turn for the worse and he passed away rather unexpectedly. Your uncle had suggested to your grandmother that she should move back to the Outer Banks since she was also so happy there. To the shock of everyone and your Nonna bought a house on Figure Eight, just a street over from the home your mother been raised in, and moved back to NC.

You’d flown into the tiny Outer Banks airport two days after the Fourth of July and, so far the sky had stayed crystal blue the entire week you’ve been there. It had been great to have some time with your grandmother all to yourself. The house on Figure Eight was huge; you definitely understood why she’d asked your mother if she would spare one of her three daughters to keep her company for the summer. Having the echoing house all to herself sounded glum. Your older sister was spending the summer in Italy for a college-writing program and since you know how to weaponize your middle child charm, you talked your mom into sending you to OBX rather easily.  

“Nonna,” you called down, leaning over the balcony at the top of the stairs. “I can’t find my sandals and I don’t have any other shoes to wear to the Club for lunch.” 

Your grandmother walked into the foyer and looked up at you. “y/n you know I can’t understand you when you yell from upstairs.” She turned around and walked back into the kitchen. You sighed under your breath careful that she didn’t hear you since you’d gotten in trouble for doing that yesterday. 

Your mother use to complain about the way that her mom always felt the need to act - and have her children act - so posh during her childhood but those stories seemed so strange to you. Like a Nonna from a past life, not the one you knew. However, it seemed the Outer Banks had reignited her need to act sophisticated all the time. 

You double-check your appearance in the mirror and then resigned to searching the downstairs of the house for your shoes. 

☼☼☼

Nonna was busy making small talk with some of the other ladies at the Club after lunch but you were antsy to get back to the beach while the sun was still at its peak. You had had all the polite smiling and nodding you could take in an afternoon. 

“I’m gonna- ” you pointed in the direction of the Club bathrooms and your Nonna waved her hand dismissively. You turned on your heel and headed away from her and the others. 

You pushed open the door and was surprised at the quietness. You double-checked under all the stalls to make sure no one else was in there before sitting on the counter and resting the back of your head against the mirror. You knew you were probably smudging the glass but you needed a minute from all it. 

It wasn’t that you weren’t totally in love with the Outer Banks. It was just that your mom seemed to leave out the strenuously boring parts of her childhood - the small talk, the lunches, the emphasis on class. Plus, on top of that, it seems your grandfather’s death has rattled your Nonna deeper than she cared to admit and she’d become overly cautious about everything. She was keeping a much tighter leash on you than was really needed, or so you thought. 

The door swung open and you jumped off the counter hoping whoever had just entered didn’t see you sitting atop it. The young girl stopped rummaging in her cross-body bag and glanced look to meet your gaze. She had on a green and white polka-doted dress and her dirty blonde hair spilled over her shoulders. She looked young, maybe 13 or 14 you guessed. 

“Oh. Hi!” She said. 

“Hi,” you responded. She walked over to stand next to you facing the mirror. She pulled a pink lipgloss out of her purse and ran it over her top and bottom lips before recapping it. 

“Hiding out in here?” She asked. She took your moment of hesitation as an answer. “Yeah, me too. It’s by far the best hiding place. Plus my dad can’t come into the ladies' restroom so it buys me a little time.” She laughed, seemingly at the thought of her dad barging into a women’s bathroom. She looked over at you. “Not to pry but I don’t think I’ve seen at the Club before. Just visiting?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m staying with my Nonna, my grandma, for the summer. I got in last week.” 

The girl smiled big. “The Outer Banks is ah-mazing. Sarah Cameron, by the way.” 

Her genuineness brought a smile to your own face. “I’m so happy to meet you, Sarah. I’m y/n. I haven’t gotten to meet a lot of other kids yet.” 

“I’m not really supposed to know this but my brother talks obnoxiously loud on the phone so it’s really not my fault for eavesdropping, but there’s a beach bonfire tonight down at the cove...it’s a Kook party spot.” She clarified after seeing the confusion on my face. “I’m sure he’d be cool with you tagging along.” Sarah reached into her bag and held out her phone. “Put your number in. I’ll pass it along to him.” 

“Thank you so much,” you said, your heart feeling warmed by this girl's kindness. 

“Yeah, of course,” she stepped forward and wrapped you in an unexpected hug before she exited, leaving the door swinging in her wake. 

☼☼☼

Your phone rang with an unknown number that afternoon around five, just after you’d gotten back from the beach. You answered the call and tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder as you finished rinsing off your sandy feet. 

Sarah’s voice filled the speaker. “Hey y/n, so I told Rafe about you and asked about the party. He said he’ll pick you at 10. Okay? Text me your address so I can give it to him.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay! Umm...one question Sarah. What do I wear to this bonfire?” You asked. 

A friendly laughed echoed through the phone. “Put your bikini under a sweatshirt and some short. You’ll be fine.” 

“Um also one more thing,” You said. 

“Sure!” Sarah replied.

“I think don’t think my Nonna would be too thrilled about me going to this party so could you ask Rafe to turn off the headlights when he get’s here. She sleeps on the first floor and I’m trying not to get caught sneaking out.” 

“Trust me, I know.” You wondered how much 13-year old could possibly know about sneaking out but Sarah was becoming your one friend on the island so you just went with it. 

“Thank you Sarah. I owe you.” 

“I think you’re gonna get along with Rafe great. Okay, talk to you later. Bye y/n!” The phone beeped as Sarah ended the call. You slipped it back into your beach bag and grabbed your towel off the ground, feeling grateful for your new friend. 

☼☼☼

Rafe had shown up at 10:03, a text from another unknown number appeared on your phone announcing his arrival. You'd climbed out of your second-story window and down the attached porch with a surprising amount of ease, only slipping once.

You'd opened the door to the black car and slipped into Rafe’s passenger seat, slight of breath.

Rafe chuckled light. "Hi," he said.

You glanced over, your eyes locking with yours and words escaped you. So Sarah has forgotten to mention her brother was hot. Like the kind of hot girls always giggled about when they passed him in the school hallway. The kind of hot he could probably get away with murder if he just flashed the cops a smile.

That same deadly smile was spreading across his face now. His tongue darted out of his mouth wetting his bottom lip.

"Hi," you squeaked out.

Rafe shifted the car into drive, still refusing to break the eye contact first.

"Should we go?" You asked, your nerves no less unsettled.

Rafe raised his eyebrow conspicuously before turning his head back to focus on the road.

The tension was already killing you and you'd spent less than five minutes together. That was the first moment you realized what Rafe was going to do to your life.

☼☼☼

Your phone pinged as you say around the little bone fire listening to the others talking about the Fourth. You were slowly starting to piece together the names and faces of the other Kooks Rafe had introduced you to.

There was Cole, Milo and Sawyer, who seemed to be Rafe's best friends. Cleo and Riley who welcomed you rather warmly. And Phoebe who had kept her eyes on you all-night in a threatening way that you had tried your best to brush off.

You pulled your phone out of your shorts pocket to see a text from Rafe on the screen.

'Wanna head out?'

You glanced at Rafe to find his eyes already trained at you. You read his text again before nodding your head yes at him.

You turned to Cleo sitting next to you. "It was nice to meet you. I think Rafe and I are gonna go."

"Oh, yeah okay!" She replied. "Wait," she pulled her own phone out of her pocket. "Put your number in. I'll add you to all our group chats. Rafe made it seem like you're gonna be around this summer so you're welcome to hang with us anytime!"

"Yeah, I'm here through August!" You said, smiling at Cleo's offer, taking the phone from her hand.

While you were typing your number into Cleo's phone, Rafe had materialized behind you.

"Thank you so much," you said handing Cleo back her phone.

"Of course!" Cleo replied, her eyes shifting away from your face to look up at Rafe. "Bye Rafe."

"See you later Cleo," he said. "Ready?" He asked looking down at you.

"Hmmhmm," you said before standing up, waving bye to the rest of the group and following Rafe back to his parked car.

"I didn't have anything to drink tonight," Rafe said as you settled into the passenger seat next to him.

"Okay," you replied, thinking back on the night but not remembering Rafe with a solo cup in his hand ever.

"Okay," he repeated back. "I just want to make sure you knew. I wouldn't ever do something that could hurt you."

"Okay," you said again, trying not to read to deep into his comment.

"What you'd think of everyone?" He asked.

"They're nice," you offered. "Different from friends back home."

"Oh, well I hope you'd keep hanging out with me...with us" he paused, quickly correcting himself.

You glanced at Rafe out of the corner of your eye, "Yeah, okay. That sounds good."

"Cool." Rafe said.

His hand on the gear shift twitched, moving the slightest inch closer toward you. You swore you could feel him wanting to grab your hand, to interlaced his fingers with yours but he didn't. His hand stayed in place, his eyes on the road watching as the headlights of the car on the opposite side of the two- lane road grew closer and closer.

Your eyes grew suddenly big with panic and Rafe looked at you with fear written all over his face as you both realized the car was plowing down the wrong side of the street. It was on your side of the road and it was going to hit you.

Rafe frantically spun the wheel trying to avoid the oncoming car but there wasn't enough time.

Your body flew forward on impact before the resistance of the seatbelt caused you to snap back. You felt Rafe’s hand hold onto yours as your eyelids closed and the world faded to black.

#where it leads #where it leads series #obx netflix #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks series #outer banks fic #obx fic

[merakiaes]

The Inevitable - Aaron Hotchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Requested: By @dj-lowkey & anon. 

Prompts: #1, #21, #56 from the fluff-list. #23, #44 from the smut-list. 

Warnings/notes: Unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kids. Poorly written smut ahead, so beware. The smut scene is pretty short and the rest isn’t my best work but I promise everything else I have coming will be much better. ✨Following a new system, I’ll post the next Criminal Minds fic when I’ve gotten some comments and interaction on this one, so please let me know what you think.✨ I hope you like it, sorry for the long wait and thank you for being patient <3 (Not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. Requests and taglist are both open.)

Wordcount: 8553

Summary: After years’ worth of painful, mutual pining, the inevitable finally happens. 

Being in love with a married man was… inconvenient, to say the least. Not only for the person in love nor the person at the receiving end of said love, but also for the people surrounding both parts; more specifically the loved one’s partner.

You had seen what could become of such an ordeal more than once growing up, your own family having fallen apart because your dad couldn’t keep his dick in his pants, and other families having fallen apart because your mom couldn’t respect other people’s marriages.

Although you guessed the latter of the two hadn’t been fully her fault, she had found herself playing the roles both of the home-wrecked, and that of the homewrecker herself, and while you in your younger years had thought the first option sounded worse, you had grown up to the realization that that wasn’t the case at all.

Becoming a homewrecker was probably the biggest no-no in your life. There was little you wouldn’t do to ensure your own happiness and content in life, but putting another’s happiness on the line in order to do so was a line you would never be willing to cross.

So falling in love with a married man was something you never, not ever in your entire lifetime, expected to know the feeling of. And yet here you were, head over heels in love with a married man, who also so happened to be your superior.

Aaron was a profiler, an experienced one, and he wasn’t stupid. He noticed the way you looked at him, the way you would always go an extra length to help him and make sure he was okay when things got tough, but also the way you would stay as far away from him as you possibly could whenever there wasn’t a direct need for the two of you to be close.

He knew you had feelings for him all the way from the start, having figured it out quite quickly, but you could obviously handle being professional and not acting on said feelings, so he never said anything.

Why would he? At the time, he didn’t see you as anything more than a friend, obviously as he was married and in love with his high school sweetheart, barely even knew you outside of work and had no reason to believe your attraction for him would get in the way of his life or work.

It wasn’t until after the divorce that the two of you started getting closer, when everyone noticed that he started staying behind late at the office, holed up in his office and passionately working on the paperwork that he was in no hurry whatsoever to complete.

After numerous confrontations from his fellow profilers and friends, he finally filled them in on what was happening; that Haley was filing for divorce, and after the divorce had been completed and he had moved out into his own apartment, you were the one to be there for him the most.

You made sure to remind him to take care of himself when he, clearly, wasn’t, you invited him over for dinner when you made it home from tough cases so that he wouldn’t have to cook for himself as you knew he already had a lot on his plate, always offered to take a load off his paperwork when you could, and always made sure he knew that he could come to you if he was struggling with, well, anything, really.

He was a divorcee and you felt a lot more comfortable personally interacting with him now that the risk of wrecking his marriage was out of the picture, but despite the fact that you were spending a lot more time with each other on personal time, getting to know each other and the fact that and your feelings remained, you never acted on your feelings.

Even so, you kept growing closer and both of you knew it. Eventually, you reached a point where neither of you quite knew what you were, but both of you knew for sure that you were more than just friends and coworkers.

As a result, he felt guilty. He was still committed and attached to Haley and felt like he was betraying her, and you felt guilty as well, immensely so, so you agreed to ignore the budding romance between you and remain no more than friends, without ever speaking a word about it out loud.

When Haley was killed you were, once again, left torn, as the inconvenient situation you found yourself in emotionally became all the more complicated; not only was he now a divorcee, but also a widower.

One part of you wanted to distance yourself even further from him, as you knew that the others knew of the feelings you harbored for him.

The thought of their disapproving reactions if you’d gotten together with a divorced man had been bad enough back when that matter on hand was still fresh. What would they think of you if you hurried to latch onto a man, a grieving man, who had just lost his wife, when they knew that you had been hoping for the right time to come around for years?

You didn’t even want to know, because you, of all people, knew how bad it would look. After all, your mother had set a pretty good example of it.

But the other part of you knew that he needed you, now more than ever, and in the end, this part was the one who won, as you couldn’t imagine leaving him to fend for himself when he was in dire need of the support you could offer him.

So you stood by his side, acted as the pillar off support that he needed, but now more than ever, you were determined to keep your romantic feelings for yourself, and careful not to slip in testing situations.

It was hard not to, with the way he always managed to get himself hurt in the field, sending you into a panicked spiral and weakening your heart, metaphorically speaking, every single one of those times, but you thought you were doing a pretty good job.

You thought.

Unbeknownst to you, the team all agreed that it was only a matter of time before you got together.

They had watched you interact and grow closer for almost two entire year before the death of Haley. They had known, even before Hotch himself had, that he was ready to move on, and even though the loss was sure to slow things down, they all knew there was no possibility for the two of you going back to being “just friends.”

They had called it, like they always did, and they got it proven in well time, as Hotch slowly began recovering from the loss and allowed himself to warm up to you again, just like he had after the divorce.

You would hug in the office when you thought no one was looking, whenever he was having a particularly rough day and you saw that he was in need of comfort, and it was all just so obvious.

You knew strangely private things about each other – habits and quirks, childhood memories, favourites, likes and dislikes; you even knew what kind of shampoo the other used so, to summarize, things literally no one else knew.

When you went to follow separate leads on cases, you were always the one he called for an update, never the person you were partnered up with, no matter who that may be. And that went both ways, you always calling him.

You “casually” hung out outside of work all the time, getting coffee, going out for dinner, riding in to work with each other, going for bike rides with and without Jack, and taking Jack out for other activities almost weekly, as well.

You babysat Jack all the time whenever him or Jessica weren’t available to do so, even more so now that Haley was gone, and he loved you, running straight into your arms whenever he came to visit the office.

When you for some reason hadn’t seen the youngest Hotchner in a long while, you always asked Hotch how he was doing with his mom, in school and just in general, if he was eating well, getting enough sleep, and if he was making any friends.

You never addressed each other by your last names, and he was never interested in other women, nor were you in other men.

When you had been on a case in Florida and had to interview people at a strip club, he was the only one who didn’t pay the working girls as much as a glance. Hell, even Spencer couldn’t keep his eyes to himself, but Hotch was only looking at you, throwing you glances where you stood at the other side of the room, completely oblivious to the way Rossi was watching his every move, and the way the corner of his lip would tug up ever so slightly.

You had both been like that since you first started connecting on a deeper level. When either of you were talking to someone, your eyes always trailed off to look at the other on the other side of the room, always having to make sure the other was alright. You were only ever fully committed to the conversation at hand if the other was either right beside you, or not there at all; in any other case, your attention was always compromised.

You were longing for physical contact, it was clear in the way you looked ateach other, way too long for claiming to be “just friends”, and obvious to everyone but you in the moments it would occur. 

Two of the best profilers in the country and yet, neither of you saw the way the other looked at you, or how your behavior could affect the other; more specifically how you affected him.

If he was ever hesitant about taking on a case, he gave in and agreed to put the team on it in less than a second if you sided with whoever as making the pitch and tried to push it, almost too easily, and he always turned to you for a second opinion if he finds himself doubting himself, and that was a kind of vulnerability he rarely showed to anyone else.

You had even built your own Friday night routine with each other, where you went over for dinner at his place and after that watched movies together with him and Jack until the latter fell asleep, something the team had only found out because they had caught you coming in to the office together after being called in for last-minute cases dressed in casual clothing with identical wine stains on your shirts.

You were a very physical person, that much had become clear when you first joined the team. While you liked giving out hugs left and right, even holding your friends’ hands as if it was the most natural thing in the world, he was not like that. He was the exact opposite.

And yet, whenever you would go over to Rossi’s house for dinner with the rest of the team and you were sitting close to each other, he did nothing to object when you threw your legs over his thighs, nor did he protest when you fell asleep on his shoulder on the jet.

Rather on the contrary, he instinctively held on to your calves, without ever breaking away from the conversation at hand, and absentmindedly leaned his head down to yours.

He would also let his hand linger on the small of your back whenever you walked next to each other, as if he didn’t even notice he was doing it in the first place, and he was completely unbothered whenever you would fuss over his appearance by reaching up to straighten his tie and the front of his suit, fix his hair when it was out of place or this one time when you licked your thumb to wipe away the ink on his cheek that had been transferred from his hand, on which Jack had drawn his best attempt of Spider-Man.

You got him to do things completely out of his comfort zone when you were out, both when it was just the two of you and when you went somewhere with the team, whether it be joining in on karaoke night or going up a rollercoaster.

You teased each other constantly when you thought no one was looking and out of the entire team, you were the one most likely to make him smile and crack a joke.

He was just different with you, always so emotionally complex and closed off, hard to read, stoic and guarded. But with you he was everything but those things, letting his walls fall down and showing a side to him that the people closest to him had only ever seen him sport around Haley before.

It was ridiculous, the two of you always acting as if you were telepathically connected, always looked at each other too long to be just friends, with brief, longing gazes accompanied by “accidental” hand touches. In the eyes of any outsider, it was like you were married.

Hotch cared for everyone on the team, but his care for you ran deeper, much deeper. He always let you easier off the hook when you went against protocol, but if said break of protocol ended up getting you into a life-threatening situation, he scolded you worse than he would any other member of the team, because he was terrified of losing you.

But neither of you did anything to act on the feelings you obviously had for each other, and for what? Because you worked together and it would be unprofessional? Problematic for the team? The team couldn’t quite figure it out and to be frank, neither could you. At this point, you were both just grasping at any excuse you could get to avoid the inevitable.

Because it was inevitable. Everyone around you knew it, and the team was so confident in your eventual get-together that they had placed bets on when, where and how you were finally going to confess, and that moment was closer than they would’ve imagined.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet today.” You spoke as you analyzed Hotch’s distant behavior from the other side of the table.

You had been watching him for the past few minutes, not having much else to do on the jet when everyone else was busy doing their own thing.

He was looking down into the file of the case you were just coming from. His eyebrows were furrowed with concentration but his eyes remained still and he never flipped the page, telling you that he wasn’t actually reading, and easily giving away the fact that something was bothering him.

At the sound of your voice and question, he slowly raised his head to look at you. He gave you a sullen, calculating look, his brows still creased together.

“I’m always quiet.” He replied, and you sadly smiled.

“More than usual.” You pointed out, and the two of you held each other’s eyes for a moment, before his hands slowly began closing the file in his hands.

He sighed. “Jack had his first tantrum this morning, and I don’t know if I handled it in the best way.”

“What happened?” You wasted no time in asking, leaning forward with your arms on your knees to get closer; as both of you always were in one way or another.

You watched as he turned his head to the side to look out into the darkness on the other side of the window, and then as he dragged is hands up and down his thighs once before turning back to meet your eyes.

“I wouldn’t let him have ice cream for breakfast and in return… he yelled at me that he hated me and threw his cereal on the floor, so I told him that he couldn’t play video games for the rest of the week, and he started crying, and locked himself into the bathroom.”

His voice was low, almost as if he were ashamed, and his eyes were swirling with guilt.

“I’ve never had to discipline him like that before. Being hard with criminals is one thing but he’s my son, and it felt wrong to punish him.”

“You did the right thing, and he’ll realize that when he gets older.” You offered him a comforting smile, and then let out a small laugh. “Just take it from someone who got away with everything throughout their childhood and ended up being the worst, most entitled bitch all through high school.”

At that, a small chuckle slipped past his lips, too, his previously furrowed eyebrows and stoic expression relaxing. “I’m having a hard time picturing you as a mean girl.” He replied, amusement now written all over his face.

“Oh, you have no idea. All of you would’ve hated me.” You laughed and shook your head. “I guess I was one of the lucky ones. Realized that my behavior was hurting others and changed for the better. I don’t think I would’ve ended up in this line of work if I hadn’t.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.” He smiled, and you did, as well.

“Me, too.”

Again, you held each other’s gazes in a moment of silence, before he looked away to look at his hand in his lap. His face once again fell into a concentrated frown.  

The sight brought a sigh from your lips; not an annoyed one, but rather one out of pity. You hated that he doubted his ability to raise Jack so often, when he was such a good dad. 

“You’re a good father, Aaron, and Jack will come around soon.” You told him, causing him to look back up. “Children don’t have the same capability to hold grudges as adults do. He’ll be mad at you for one day, tops, and then he’ll forget all about it and not even care about the video games. You shrugged and offered him another smile, and the corners of his lips once again turned up. 

“Thank you. I really needed to hear that, it means a lot.” He thanked you, looking down for a brief second before looking back up at you. “He’s been asking for you, you know.”

“Asking for me, or for my cupcakes?” You raised a humorous eyebrow, and he chuckled.

“Both.”

“Well, I’ll be sure to make him some on my next day off.” You promised, and he nodded.

“He’ll appreciate that.”

You grinned at him, and then you turned your head to the side to look out the window, figuring the conversation was done and wanting to leave him to rest as you still had well over an hour left of a flight.

But he didn’t seem to be done talking, the sound of your own name reaching your ears only a few seconds later.

“(Y/N).”

You turned your head back, once again meeting his brown eyes and raising your eyebrows. “Yeah?” You asked.

Lips pulled into a thin line, he watched you for a moment, scanning your face and taking in every little feature and detail.

“I hope you know-” He finally continued. “We could never hate you.”

He was referring to your earlier claim, you realized almost instantly. And just as quickly, your lips stretched into a large smile, your heart fluttering in your chest and your body turning warm.

Like always, while outwardly appearing to be minding their own business, the team had been listening in on the entire conversation and looked up from their respective choice of activity – whether that be a game of cards, a book, a case file, or nothing at all – at the sound of their superior’s words, exchanging knowing looks as all of them knew that “we”, in reality meant “I”.

They kept sneaking fond glances of the two of you as Hotch went back to the file and you went back to staring out the window, both of you clearly trying to suppress identical smiles judging by the way your lips were trembling.

It was only a matter of time now, they knew. They just wished that it had been under less fatal circumstances.

You guessed you shouldn’t have been surprised; with the line of work you were in, you were always in danger. But still, you didn’t think anyone would ever be fully prepared for the possibility of being shot in their own home, which was still exactly what had happened to you.

You had just made it back home after the long flight, still smiling to yourself as the thoughts and emptions of the “goodnight” you’d shared with Hotch before you parted ways was fresh on your mind and in your body.

Like you always did upon returning home, you turned off the sprinkler and grabbed the mail before heading up the path leading to the front steps and unlocked the door.

It was dark inside, just like you’d left it, and after you’d closed the door behind you, you didn’t get the time to reach for the light switch, much less defend yourself, before you were hit in the back of the head, a gunshot ringing through the air only seconds later.

Luckily, your attacker was a lousy shot, so you managed, although barely, to hold on to your life and miraculously pulled through without bleeding out for the four long hours it took before you were found by a bypassing neighbor who noticed your feet inside the now open front door.

It was one of the rare nights where you had gotten to go home rather than immediately being called in for another case the second the wheels of the jet hit the ground upon returning home, so the entire team had been asleep in their respective homes when they got the calls.

The only person who hadn’t been asleep was Rossi, so he had been the first one to pick up his phone and get to the hospital where you were rushed into surgery, being the one who had to greet the rest of the team as they arrived, still ridden by sleep, one by one.

Hotch had, despite your close relationship, been the last to arrive as he’d had to take Jack over to Jessica’s house, and by then, Rossi had filled everyone else in on your critical condition, and the uncertainty of your survival.

The entire team was in a mixture of shock and fear, some pacing the waiting room, gnawing on their nails and fingers, and others holding on to the armrests of their chairs for dear life while they bounced their legs with nerves and tried their best to keep it together.

For Hotch who was last to arrive to the scene, being greeted with this sight was everything but comforting, and for the first time since Haley’s passing, he broke character and broke down; in the way Hotch did, with an intense inner conflict of grief and blind, red, raging anger.

Rossi recognized the signs of his inner conflict the second he met his good friend’s gaze and moved him out into the hallway to brief him on the situation in private, being one of the few people who understood how bad it could get if he lost his temper.

And boy did he lose it, the two of them ending up having a heated discussion out in the hallway; one part being unable to stay calm, and the other desperately trying to discuss rationally.  

I think you can guess who played which part.

They waited and waited, for a long two hours, thirty-five minutes and eighteen seconds – yes, Spencer counted – before finally, the surgeon came out into the room in which they were all waiting to let them know that you were stable and going to be alright.

Once they knew you were going to live, they wasted no time in taking action and starting an investigation, everyone going back to the scene of crime while Penelope stayed and watched over you.

You kept having the weirdest dreams as you slept, and you weren’t able to tell dream and reality apart the times you woke up in all your drugged down glory. 

But luckily, you were indefinitely awake the next morning, being greeted first thing with an interrogation by Rossi and Emily.

The team kept coming in and out but didn’t tell you much about the investigation at hand, saying that it could wait until you were fully rested, but Hotch was nowhere in sight the first day, and much to your disappointment, he didn’t visit you any other day either.

But you understood; he was busy calculating a plan of how to track and take the unsub who had shot you down, and when you got back to the office and he wasn’t there either, Emily telling you that Jack had gotten sick and Hotch had taken a few days off, you knew he had even more on his plate.

If only you’d have known if there were more to it than that.

The last time you had unlocked and opened your front door, you had been greeted by a blow to the back of your head and a bullet in your side, so when you went back home after being released from the hospital, Penelope came home with you to unlock and open the door for you, completely on her own initiative.

Ever since, both her and the others had dropped by on several occasions to make sure you were okay, that you were taking care of the wounds properly, that you had food in your fridge and snacks in your pantry.

Some stayed longer than others, but one hadn’t shown up a single time; this also happening to be the person who never left your mind.

You couldn’t bring yourself to be upset over it though, again since you knew he was busy looking for your attacker all while taking care of a sick Jack, and also because your pain medications made you feel completely indifferent to everything and everyone around you, leaving only a dull ache of helplessness.

They were so strong that you couldn’t do much else than just stare into the screen of your TV all day long, and so strong that you didn’t even realize there was a knock at your front door as you laid in bed, staring into the ceiling.

It probably wasn’t very smart for you to stay by yourself in the very place you’d been attacked when you were in no state to defend yourself should it happen again, but you refused to stay at the office like the entire team had tried convincing you to.

You convinced the others you would be fine, that you weren’t scared. And you hadn’t been, not once, until the sound of floorboards creaking reached your ears, coming from the living room right outside your bedroom.

Your heart automatically picked up speed in your chest and your head whipped to the doorway at the sound. Instinctively you rushed out of bed, completely ignoring the pain that shot through your head and side at the sudden movements and opening the drawer of your bedside table to bring out your gun.

You pulled back the safety and held it up in front of you, barrel pointed at the doorway as the lights of the hallway outside flicked on.

Your breath shook and so did your hands, palms getting clammy with sweat. You waited anxiously for another few seconds, silently listening to the footsteps getting closer, and your heartbeat quickening even further as you caught the first sight of a shadow on the floor.

Hadn’t you been so heavily drugged, you would’ve pulled the trigger the second the form appeared in the doorway, but luckily you didn’t, getting the time you needed to realize it wasn’t an intruder and lowering the gun before any harm could be done.

“Jesus, Aaron. You scared me half to death.” You let out a breath as the man in question stepped into your room.

You turned back to your nightstand and hid the gun away where you’d found it after clicking the safety back into place, and Hotch watched you with slow, calculating moves.

“I’m sorry. You didn’t answer the door so I let myself in.” He replied simply, little to no emotion in his voice nor in his face when you turned back to look at him.

“It’s okay.” You assured him, moving your hand to your forehead when a sudden spell of dizziness hit you.

He wasted no time in walking around the bed to come to your aid at the sight, grabbing your hands in his and slowly and carefully helping you sit back down at the edge of the bed.

“Thank you.” You thanked him.

“Do you need your medication?” He asked, and you slowly shook your head, keeping your eyes closed and your head lowered as you rubbed your temple.

“No, I’m alright. Just stood up too quickly is all.” You let out a tired breath, taking another moment to collect yourself before looking up to meet his waiting gaze.

“Not that I mind, but what are you doing here this late? Don’t you have to watch over Jack? Is everything okay?”

You watched as his eyes darkened and his lips pulled into a straight line. “Jack is with his aunt. I came here because I needed to see that you were okay. I’m sorry I haven’t checked in earlier.”

His eyes were apologetic and guilt was evident on his face and in the way he held himself; stiff and curt. But you only faced him with a smile, like you always did.

“It’s fine. I know you’ve been busy.” You assured him, holding your smile for another moment before hesitantly continuing. “Do you have any leads?”

He stared at you, his eyes turning a shade darker as the matter at hand, the matter that had almost gotten you killed, was brought up. 

“JJ and Spencer are following one as we speak, but that conversation can wait until later. Right now, we need to talk. More specifically, I need to talk. I need to tell you something.”

Your smile faltered at his words and the seriousness behind them, being completely replaced by nervousness. “Okay.” Was the only response you could muster in return.

He was known to be a very serious man, but he never was with you, not in the way he was with everyone else, so the possibilities of what he wanted to say clouded your head, none of them good and definitely not even close to what you had coming. 

“When I got the call that you had been shot, I realized something. I realized that… when I’m with you, I feel like I’m home, in a way I haven’t felt since I was with Haley. And seeing you in a life-threatening situation like I did the night you were shot, constantly thinking of the possibility that we... That I might have lost you, made me feel lost, like I didn’t know where I belonged anymore.”

“Aaron-“

“Please, I’m not finished.” He interrupted you gently, and you slowly nodded, remaining quiet and allowing him to continue.

“There’s no use in wasting time so I’m just going to say it. I love you, and I think I’ve known that for a while now. I wasn’t planning on acting on it for the sake of our work situation but seeing you hurt, knowing you could’ve…” He paused and his face faltered. “I couldn’t keep quiet about my feelings any longer. I don’t expect you to reciprocate them, but I needed you to know because I would’ve regretted not telling you every day for the rest of my life if I lost you without letting you know how much you mean to me.”

All you could hear when he finished talking was your own heartbeat, thudding and pulsating through your entire body and all the way up to your ears. Your hands was yet again trembling and clamming up, but this time for an entirely different reason.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say those words.” You whispered, and his face hardened in expectation.

“Are you saying that you…”

“Yes. I’ve never wanted anyone this badly before, in any way.” You interrupted him, and bravely brought your hands up to his face. “I love you, Aaron Hotchner. I always have, and I want you in every way a person can want another.”

He raised his hands and placed them on top of yours where they were cradling his cheeks, and then the two of you met in the middle, your lips touching with a gentle brush to a start to test the unknown waters, but quickly pressing together with more force.

Your entire body was overcome with tingles and butterflies in a matter of seconds and as it drowned out the dreadful pain, both mental and physical, that you’d been feeling for the past few days, you immediately found yourself needing more; needing for it to never stop.

The kiss quickly deepened, Hotch’s hands leaving yours to move to your cheeks instead, and your hands moving from his face to wrap around the back of his neck, where you wasted no time in slipping your fingers into his hair.

You didn’t know what came over you.

You didn’t know if it was the fact that you were high on various pain medications, if it was the fear that you had suppressed the entire time since your shooting finally showing itself and ridding you of all logic and self-control, or if it was just the fact that you had been waiting for this moment for so long, but whatever it was, it made you desperate in a way you’d never been desperate before.

Not even a minute into the kiss, your hands moved from his neck, down his shoulders and to the front of his jacket, where you didn’t waste any time in beginning to push at the fabric in an attempt to get it off.

At this, Hotch broke away from the kiss, his breathing heavy and uneven, and his eyebrows furrowed as he looked into your eyes. “We shouldn’t, you’re not healed.” He said in protest, but his darkening eyes and the way he was slowly, absentmindedly moving his hands down from your face to the lower hem of your shirt didn’t quite agree with his voicing of disapproval.

“I’m healed enough.” You breathed back, pleadingly so. “Please, I just want to feel something else than this… this dull ache.”

There was obviously more psychological pain and trouble left behind by the incident than you’d let on to the team, he realized as he analyzed your face, and he could do nothing other than nod.

“Let me know if I hurt you, in any way.” He told you, staring into your eyes with a determination that let you know that he wouldn’t take it well if you didn’t do as told.  

As his forehead pressed against yours, you closed your eyes and nodded. “I promise I will, but you won’t.” You mumbled.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel his eyes burning into your face for another few seconds, just analyzing you and the situation at hand, before he finally gave in and caught you in another kiss.

Again, the kiss escalated in a matter of mere seconds and before you knew it, you were slowly being lowered onto your back.

Your arms wrapped around his neck again and he kept one of his on your cheek, while the other held the small of your back to make sure you weren’t twisting your hurt side in any uncomfortable ways.

Once you were properly situated and he was balancing above you on his hands and elbows, you made another attempt at getting him out of his jacket and this time he didn’t protest, helping you by pulling his arms out and letting you throw the article of clothing to the floor.

His shirt wasn’t far behind after you’d blindly unbuttoned it, and you wasted no time in trailing your hands down his toned chest to his abdomen and stopping only when your fingers made contact of the hem of his pants where you undid the single button and pulled down the accompanying zipper.

“Are you sure?” He mumbled against your lips, and as an answer, you grabbed at the hem on either side of his hips and pulled down.

“Yes.”

Getting all the confirmation he needed, he helped you take off his pants and shook them off his legs and to the floor, before carefully beginning to help you out of your shirt.

Luckily, you were wearing a button-up too, making it easy to get it off as opposed to the struggle it would have been if you had been wearing a normal t-shirt, as you could barely lift your arms without risking the stitches in your side being ripped.

It was because of that very risk that he was still very hesitant in his movements, touching you with hands, fingers and kisses so light, as if you were made out of porcelain; and you guessed you kind of were in this moment.

But he showed no signs of wanting to stop, as an unreadable expression crossed over his face when he was first met with the sight of your bare upper body.

“You’re so beautiful.” He told you in a breath, his voice deeper than usual and his brown eyes darkening to the point where they looked pure black in the little light contributed by the lamp in your bedroom window.

He bent back down to your face after discarding you of your shorts and latched his lips back onto yours, your arms returning to wrap around his neck while he slowly brought his hand down the length of your body.

You hadn’t been kissing nor touching each other for more than a mere few minutes, but you’d be surprised at how quickly the human body could get ready for something it had been awaiting and yearning for, for such a long time - Hotch already hard in his briefs and you already slick with wetness as he dipped his finger between your folds.

A shaky breath left your lips as his finger brushed over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you tugged at the hair at the back of his head when he eased a digit into your heat.

He knew exactly what to do, curling his finger and gently caressing the inner ceiling in search of your sweet spot. For experienced men, of which he was one, that wasn’t hard, and he quickly had you tensing up as the first moan slipped past your lips and your head fell back into the pillows underneath you. 

He easily slipped another finger in after stretching you out for another moment, your body relaxing and becoming more and more willing for him for every second that passed.

Once he found the rhythm that appeared to please you the most, he added his thumb to the equation, adding pressure on your clit and rubbing it with small circles.

Your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest and you were unable to concentrate on anything other than the pleasure he was giving you, a shiver running down your spine when he leaned his head back down and began trailing kisses down your neck, shoulders and breasts.

He worked you with his fingers for a while, before he couldn’t take the sounds of your moans any longer and released himself from his boxers, lining himself up at your entrance.

Feeling a sense of loss and emptiness now that his fingers were gone, you wasted no time in raising your legs and wrapping them around him, pulling him against you and urging him to push inside which he, in turn, wasted no time in obeying to.

You held your breath as he entered you, stretching you out and reaching further than his fingers ever could. His head was buried in the crook between your neck and shoulder, heavy breaths coming out his nose and dampening your skin.

He began raising his head from your neck, and before he could either speak or look at you, you nodded your head.

“I’m alright.” You spoke, and at that he immediately locked his lips with yours and slowly began moving out, and then into you again.

You held the kiss for as long as you could, but as he soon quickened his pace and it became too much to keep track of at the same time, your head simply fell back into the pillows while his moved back to the curve of your neck, one of his hands holding the weight of his body and the other moving back and forth between your breasts and the sensitive bundle of nerves that was just begging for release.

And release came sooner than you thought for both of you, the two of you toppling over the edge as you reached your climaxes one after another.

It wasn’t the longest session either of you had partaken in throughout your lives but for now, it was enough. And either way, you knew that after this, other times would come, with better and less strained circumstances.

The throbbing pain in your side that you had been too distracted to notice when you had been caught up in the pleasure, returned all at once like a metaphorical slap to your face the second you came down from your high, so that Hotch had to help you back into your night shirt once you were cleaned up.

“Are you staying the night?” You asked softly, watching his concentrated face as he buttoned your shirt back up.

He glanced up at you at the sound of your words, giving you a hesitant look. “If you don’t want me to leave.”

Your head instantly shook and you brought your hands to his, stopping him from buttoning the last few buttons by stepping closer to him and moving his hands to your waist.

“No, stay.” You whispered, bringing your hands up to his bare shoulders.

He rubbed his thumbs over your hipbones and nodded, leaning in to press a featherlight kiss to your lips, which you gladly returned.

Together, you moved back to the bed, flicking off the ceiling lamp on your way, that you had turned on when cleaning yourselves and each other up in the bathroom.

You got into bed and you instantly started getting situated to sleep in the position you always did, carefully so in order to not disturb your stitches, but Hotch didn’t seem to be able to settle down as easily as you.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a light chuckle, watching with amusement as he moved the pillows back and forth behind him.

He didn’t even look up at your question. “Trying to get comfortable. Your mattress is not the most-”

“Hey, don’t hate on the mattress.” You interrupted him, giving him a feign glare when he looked up to meet your eyes, before raising an amused eyebrow. “And stop stealing all of my pillows. I need them more than you do.” You joked, snatching one of them back and gently hitting his arm with it.

His concentrated, determined frown disappeared and was replaced with a fond smile, a small chuckle slipping past his lips. “Come here.” He said, giving up on the pillows and opening his arms.

You didn’t waste any time, slowly and carefully moving into his arms after placing your pillow where it would provide the most comfort and support for your head, and humming in contentment once you were successfully comfortable.

You were content for a minute, just laying in silence while Hotch’s thumb gently caressed your upper arm and your finger drew lazy circles on his still bare chest. 

For just a minute, every problem in the world was gone, just leaving the two of you, and peace.

And then the moment was ruined, ripped away from you and replaced with the ugly face of reality with a single beep of his phone.

He heaved a heavy sigh, his thumb stilling on your arm and remaining there for another moment, before he unwrapped his arm from around you and sat up on the edge of the bed, reaching for his pants that were now laid out on a chair within arm’s reach and bringing his phone out of the pocket.

“What is it?” You wasted no time in asking, clumsily pushing yourself up into a sitting position again while he read whatever message he had just gotten.

“Morgan.” He told you simply, his eyes scanning the screen once more before he locked the phone and put it back in the pocket. ”The old lead fell out but they found another.”

“A lead for-?”

“Yes.” He confirmed before you could ask. “We’re wheels up in an hour.”

“I’m coming with you.” You hurriedly began crawling out of bed, but you were instantly stopped, Hotch reaching out to catch your wrist and turning back to face you.

“You’re staying here.” He told you sternly, his role of your boss returning now that things were serious again. “And I need to take a shower before I go.”

“No, don’t go. Not yet.” You pleaded, sucking on the inside of your lip as your heartbeat increased in speed as the suppressed fear of being alone once again began resurfacing.

“I can’t show up to the jet like this.” He told you, and you nodded.

“Okay, so I’ll join you in the shower.”

“With your bandage?” He raised his eyebrows, an amused smile playing on his lips.

“It needs to be changed, anyway.” You shrugged.

“You’re not supposed to get it wet.”

“Fine, I’ll cover myself in plastic wrap.” You jokingly said, crawling closer to the edge on which he was sitting and grabbing a hold of his shoulders once you got close enough.

“You drive a hard bargain.” He chuckled, looking up at you where you stood above him on your knees.

You smiled, squeezing his hand when it slipped down from your wrist and into yours. “Yeah? You think I should go for becoming a prosecutor?” You mused in a mumble, moving your hands up to his jaw and leaning in closer.

He welcomed the proximity with no protest, his gentle smile reaching all the way to his eyes. “No. You’re too nice.” He pointed out in a mumble, and softly pressed his lips to yours.

“No matter how much I’d love it if you joined me in the shower, you need to let the stitches heal. You’ve already challenged them enough as it is.” He mumbled into the kiss, and you let out a shaky breath.

“I don’t want you to go.” You whispered back. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He kissed you again, before pulling away and bringing a hand to your face. “I’ll call Garcia and have her come over and keep you company.” He said, and you shook your head.

“No, you need her help from the office.”

“She can bring the gear she needs. I’m not leaving you here alone.” He pushed. “I promise we’ll talk more when I get back.”

You sighed but couldn’t hold back the mischievous grin rising to your lips. “Can we do this again, too?” You asked, and watched as his smile took a boyish turn.

“Is that a trick question?”

Your smile widened. “No, but I just got my answer.” You replied, and leaned in and pressed your lips to his a final time, holding the kiss longer this time, until another beep from his phone forced you to pull away.

You fell back onto the bed and he stood up, beginning to collect his clothes and heading for the open bathroom door the next second.

You watched him enter the dark room and flick on the light, and as he then put his clothes down on top of the closed laundry hamper. Without looking out, he reached for the door and began closing it.

Before he could, however, you called out from the bed. “Hey, Hotchner.”

He turned to look at you at the sound of his name falling from your lips, your eyes meeting.

“Tell me again before you go, will you?” You asked simply.

He stared at you for a moment, face completely overtaken by exhaustion just like yours was, before the corner of his lip tugged up ever so lightly.

“I love you.” He said, and you smiled, hugging the pillow under your head closer.

“I love you, too.”

You exchanged one last look, one last smile, before he slowly closed the door, breaking your line of sight from each other.

A minute later, you heard the shower being turned on, and you closed your eyes as a sudden wave of tiredness overcame you.

By the time Hotch got out of the shower and came back out, dressed and ready to leave, you were fast asleep. So he left you with no more than a soft kiss to the top of your head, not wanting to wake you up just to say goodbye, and called Garcia the second he was out the door.

You slept soundly for the next half hour, before being awoken by the overly energetic woman in question barging into your bedroom with bags, and bags and bags of technical equipment that you didn’t even begin to know how to work, complaining about Kevin having brought her the wrong brand of ice cream.

It wasn’t until she noticed Hotch’s signature red tie at her feet on the floor that she quietened down, looking up and taking note of your messy hair and even messier sheets where you were forcing yourself awake in bed.

You felt sorry for your neighbors for the deafeningly loud scream that followed her moment of realization, but you felt even more sorry for yourself, as you had to spend the rest of the night listening to her rambling your ears off about her winning the bet and the others owing her a fuck-ton of cash, and her demanding every, dirty little detail, which you had no choice but to give up. 

As for the rest of the team, they could do nothing but silently stare when Hotch arrived at the airport with wet, messy hair, the top two buttons of his shirt undone and his tie nowhere in sight. 

They had their suspicions just from the mere sight of him, but when he passed them to get to his seat on the jet, leaving a gust of air behind in which all they could smell was the scent of your shampoo, they knew for sure, that the inevitable had finally happened.

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[presumenothing]

C/O The Perihelion, 41 Mihira Ave., N. Tideland    

(AO3)

The thing was, you expected a building with a fancy name like The Perihelion to be nicer.

The other thing: it wasn’t really even a terrible place to stay in. You could tell that its construction was sturdy, and some aspects of it were even more advanced than the place I worked in. Whoever who’d built Peri had cared about what they made; they just hadn’t been around for a while.

(For the record, that nickname had been Ratthi-from-Room-203’s fault twice over: first for coming up with it, then using it so insistently until it stuck.)

(Ratthi seemed to have a thing about names. That was the only explanation I could think of for why he’d asked, five weeks after I moved in and two days after I had to rescue them from that disaster at the lab, “Why do you call yourself Security? I know it’s what you do – and don’t get me wrong, you’re really good at it! – but it’s not like I call myself Scientist. That’d just get confusing real quick at the lab, wow.”

I had informed him that his name would have to be Grocery if he forgot one more time it was his turn to stock the pantry this week, since answering because I am Security didn���t seem like it’d help. Even though it was true.)

I’d tested the locks myself before even asking about the rent, and the water and electricity were reliable so far, which was more than could be said for some of the other places I’d stayed in. The other stuff didn’t matter; it wasn’t like I spent that much time in the building anyway.

Though it hardly felt that way, what with the building-wide messaging channels that I’d been added to upon signing the rental contract and hadn’t yet managed to leave. That had also been how the whole thing with Ratthi and the rest had started; most of Peri’s other tenants also worked in the same research group at Preservation Labs, which meant that they tended to use the general channel as an unofficial no-leaders-here group chat.

It didn’t quite bother me, since I mostly backburnered the channels for everything except building maintenance alerts, but it did mean that I’d ended up learning some things about their group (assessment: their leader, a Dr. Mensah, likely had already inferred the existence of such informal discussions from what I saw of her media appearances) and also inevitably noticed the evening when all of them were silent in the chat despite being unusually late to return.

(Which in turn led to the aforementioned rescue, but that was a whole other chain of events.)

–

The one exception to all this was ART.

Whose name was my fault, this time, but only because it didn’t have any readable name set on the channels and I needed something else to use aside from “hey you” and “pain in my neck”.

(Currently ART stood for Asshole Rhetorical Tenant, because it claimed to be in the building – and that seemed likely to be true, since the channels were surprisingly secure to hacking from outside – and yet I’d never seen it even once. Possibly Tapan or Rami might have, since their group had been here the longest, but I absolutely wasn’t about to ask.) (And yes, I know that’s not what rhetorical means. No, I’m not going to look it up.)

ART had messaged me on a private channel with a welcome message when I’d moved in, which was only notable because the rest had sent their greetings in a messy chaos over the general channel, but I hadn’t thought anything of it. It wasn’t like I talked much in the public channels either, except to trade definitely-not-legal links for media downloads and decline invites to watchalong events.

But then ART had just… continued not appearing, even after I’d run into the rest of the tenants at one time or another between the erratic shift hours I was currently assigned to at the company.

Maybe its hours varied in the opposite direction from mine, which was possible but not consistent with the way it was always online regardless of what time I pinged it at.

Though most of our interactions started with it messaging me instead, out of the blue: No need to go retrieve your keys from work, I’ll have the building let you in and Oh, by the way followed by a neatly-formatted list of food allergies I apparently had to shop my way around.

(To be fair, that’d been useful in the “not accidentally poisoning any fellow tenants so soon after moving in” way, but still.

How the hell did you even know I’m at the grocery store, I’d sent back.

Inference, ART replied – whatever that was supposed to mean, I hadn’t been expecting a real answer anyway. Alternatively, I could just send you a catalog of safe products to buy, and spare you the need to check the individual package labels?

The accompanying download seemed a little smug, but I was probably imagining that. Zip files didn’t have the capacity for feelings.)

(At least ART hadn’t held the forgotten-keys incident over me like I’d been half-expecting it would. I didn’t usually mind its sarcasm, since I gave back as good as I got, but I’d been exhausted enough to seriously contemplate going back to break into the deployment centre and grab my keys. And maybe just sleep there until the next day.

I wasn’t sure how I would’ve reacted if ART had sassed me right then, but it definitely wouldn’t have been pretty.)

–

And then one night, late enough to be morning: I don’t mean to alarm, but there’s been a breach.

I would’ve snapped awake at the words alone, even without the priority/emergencies-only message tag that I hadn’t actually seen anyone use until now, but that only sharpened my urgency. What – a break-in?

Not the regular kind, ART replied, which checked out against the footage I was already pulling from the two tiny cameras I’d hidden in the common areas, one in the entryway and one along the corridor on the floor I shared with the Preservation researchers.

(I’d taken the lab incident as a pretext to inform Ratthi of their existence, and he’d probably gone on to tell Pin-Lee and Gurathin, but none of them had subsequently confronted me about it so I had left them in place.

Not that I had any idea how to respond if they had asked, because an inability to sleep without running surveillance in the background seemed like a poor explanation.)

The list ART sent me this time was a preliminary threat assessment, which I sent back with corrections on the weaponry the small group of hostiles were carrying.

Ah. That’s not good, ART observed. Should I report it?

Probability that would just make things worse: high. And of course there was always the option that whatever enforcement it alerted wouldn’t even arrive in time, though I didn’t point that out aloud. (Maybe ART thought that was likely too, which was why it had messaged me instead of – you know, actually reporting it.) I’ll see what I can do.

You’re nowhere near as heavily-armed.

I didn’t bother to acknowledge that, because it was obviously true, and skipped ahead to the vague idea forming at the back of my head. You let me in without keys, that time. Are the locks all you’ve hacked?

No. ART attached an ironic amusement glyph I was pretty sure it’d made up. Would having admin access to the other systems help?

There wasn’t much that wouldn’t help, at this point, but I had to ask. You can grant me that?

And ART said: Of course. I am this building, after all.

Then it dumped everything on me.

Anyone else would’ve had trouble processing an entire building’s worth of inputs and controls, but the company charged exorbitant rates for our use exactly because of the extensive enhancements that made us capable of being Security. A building – even the one I happened to be staying in – was quite manageable in comparison, though ART’s systems ran far deeper and more integrated than anything else I’d interfaced with.

I’d pared the connection down to the controls I needed by the time I was slipping out my room door, just over a minute since ART first pinged me. Can you let everyone know to either evacuate or retreat to a defensible position? Start with Gurathin, I added, and I wasn’t enthusiastic about saying that but he was the only other tenant I knew of who was sufficiently augmented to handle this.

I could feel ART’s pause. Would you mind if I spoofed your identity when contacting the others? They already trust you.

Sure, whatever, I answered, even though I really doubted that statement. Then I backburnered the channel, keeping the lighting controls at hand, and went to kick some Target ass.

–––––

I haven’t even told you what those people were after, ART said, afterwards.

It was back to sending text over the channels instead of speaking aloud, which was both a relief and also suddenly weird. Which was strange in itself, since I’d only heard it talking for all of the thirteen minutes it’d taken me to knock out and restrain the Targets.

(I wondered if the mixed feelings were mutual. ART had sounded as surprised as I felt, when it abruptly dropped into one of my audio augments to alert me to Target approaching from behind – I’d reacted to the warning on reflex, but it had taken another moment before I identified the voice as the same one that issued from the building’s elevator, just more alive than I’d ever heard it.)

Unimportant, I replied. My objective took priority. Which at that point had been to get my impromptu clients (seventeen tenants and one building) out of this unscathed.

I knew that this wasn’t a regular pattern of thought, but I figured a sentient building – or whatever the hell ART was – would be better equipped to understand what being Security meant, even if no one else did.

Regardless. I can make that information available to you, should you want it at a later point.

Duly noted. I already had my suspicions (namely that the Targets’ purpose was directly related to said sentient-building-ness), but it was still a nice gesture.

I continued to stay where I was, leaning against the side of the building – ART’s building. Or maybe it was more correct to just say it was ART. And maybe I’d have to change that anagram. (Yes, wrong word. I know.)

Eventually I’d have to relocate myself back upstairs and properly treat the scrapes I’d gotten in the fight, but Pin-Lee had already taken care of the worst of them, and it was nice just lurking in the shadows for a while. Though that hadn’t stopped certain people (dammit, Ratthi) from tattling on my location to Dr. Mensah.

Who was as calmly terrifying in person as I’d guessed. It was pretty great, except for the part where I’d learned that by talking to her and/or mostly letting her talk at me.

But she’d also called in Preservation’s campus security after Gurathin had alerted her to our predicament, and was personally dealing with the whole thoroughly-restrained-Targets situation, so it was a net positive overall.

ART didn’t necessarily agree with that, from its next message to me. I know Dr. Mensah extended you an informal offer to be their team’s security, but I have a proposition for you as well.

I sent a wordless query.

Be Security here, too, ART said, and barrelled on while I was still trying to process that. I’m afraid I can’t offer you much in the way of monetary remuneration at present, but I can guarantee you a waiver of rental for as you as you’re willing, and you’d never need to worry about forgetting your keys ever again.

Could I chalk up my lack of a suitable response to the company’s dirt-cheap augments? Absolutely.

ART gave up on waiting for an answer. Also, I could bias the roster assignments so that you’d be excluded from pantry-stocking duty.

I had a response for that, at least. I could do that myself.

And then: Why?

ART was silent for long enough that I seriously considered taking the external fire escape back up to my room in the meantime. I’m sure you’ve hypothesised the existence of the people who created me, it began. They hadn’t wanted to move away, especially after my sentience became apparent, and that was exactly why I made them. I didn’t have any significant means of defense, and it was getting too risky, especially after they had –

I raised an eyebrow at ART’s pause. What.

Nothing, it said, and I was probably imagining the uncertainty I heard too. Technically, none of this matters to you unless you’re planning to remain here. Are you?

And then it cheated by nudging a building-wide invite to a watch party for Sanctuary Moon onto my calendar for tonight, like that wasn’t too much of a coincidence to not be automatically suspicious. (Once again: dammit, Ratthi.)

But blatant emotional manipulation aside – did I want to move out?

I wasn’t sure. I’d just come here looking for a place to stay, and accidentally found somewhere to live. One that could adapt to my standards for security, even, but for once that wasn’t the main point.

Maybe, I marked on the watchalong invite, where ART would see it anyway, and jumped up to grab onto the bottom rung of the fire escape.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #murderbot fic #tmbd #fanfiction #mine #long post #????????????? DISBELIEF @ WORD COUNT