#former boss was a not a very good boss but he was a very nice person and quite funny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grlpartdoll · 25 days

Text

Part Two of this :] finally CEO price and boss Simon :] not proofread we die like men. Aarrrrmmm 18+ minors blocked on sight Nd there is filthy smut in here so if dat makes u uncomfy stay out!!

Your first instinct is to immediately go seek out your best friend, Soap — with whom you'd worked a good amount of years until you were transfered to the technical unit, and then to the role of assistant.

He lets you ramble as he works (Johny has a bad habit of always working on his lunch hour. You've tried to take it outta him, but he just won't budge, the stubborn bastard) and eventually pipes up when you mention the reason of your ire.

Simon. Mister Riley, as you call him.

"Simon's got you all work'd up? Really? The big ole brute?"

"You try working under him! He- he's like a giant six foot four body of grumpiness and inability to show a grain of appreciation!"

He looks at you, staring for what feels like forever until you let out a whole, long sigh.

"And unfortunately for me, he's also got.."

"That mug of his?" Soap whistles. "Woulda done it, if he wasn' so painfully straight."

You wrinkle your nose at that, shaking away the thoughts of the two of them being together.

You toss your fork back in your plastic plate, very much understanding that hell awaits you when you go back. Which, as you glance at the clock, realize that the time is ever approaching.

"Well. It will have been nice meeting you, Johny-boy."

He pats your head as he gets up, finally taking his eyes off of his screen and going to the nearby trash to dump all of your and his leftovers.

"It'll be fine. Just bat those pretty lashes at him and he'll let you off."

You kiss your teeth, cocking your head as you think maybe. Maybe, it could work for once. Though you're not sure there's anything soft of mellow underneath the constant armor he wears, your sure that... Well.. there is something.

You have to try. For the sake of your job and your livelihood.

When you step out of the elevator into the last level of the building — the technical unit's office space, as well as mister Price's office and now Simon's, you notice one thing. It's awfully quiet.

Usually, the technical team is quite chatty. Being made up of mostly young adults fresh out of high school, they always seemed to have something to laugh and giggle about. Which is why the silence now unsettles you.

You also notice, side-stepping the rows of empty desks, that the door to yours and Simon's office is closed, and the glass fogged up — thanks to the technology that allowed him by the click of a remote to make it so.

Usually, his office only goes on full lockdown when he's in serious board meetings, or when he's in a foul mood, and you're ready to bet it's the latter this time.

You chew on your lower lip anxiously as you knock on the glass pane. A voice tells you to come in, and you freeze a little when you recognize mister Price's voice.

You slip in, either way, forcing your frozen limbs to move and take you inside.

The door closes loudly behind you, glass panel knocking agaisnt each other. You clutch the papers you carried all the way up from the reception against your chest, wide eyes going itchy when you don't blink for too long.

"Here she is," Price smiles wide at you. He's sitting on the couch opposite of Simon's desk, a leg propped against the coffee table, and a cigar dangling from his lips.

Your former boss had always been fond of you — had always been so kind to you.— which is why you seek his eyes out first.

"Hi, mister Price." You manage through a right throat. You turn to Simon, who's already staring holes into you, examining you from head to toe, but taking special interest to your face for a moment too long. "I wasn't aware you had a meeting today."

"It was impromptu," John says for Simon, standing from his position. He walks to you, and lays his hands on your shoulders. Something he seems to do a lot — youve noticed when he's around other employees also.

He squeezes yours, maybe a bit too roughly, but nothing that shakes you to the core. If anything, it's a comforting touch.

"How many times have I told you to call me John, kid?"

"As many times as I've asked you to call me by my name, mister Price."

He laughs, loud and boisterous. He turns to Simon, who's still just... Staring. Price points a thumb at me, smiling with fully a fully reconstructed set of teeth, white and gleaming. Though they aren't uncanny like most sets of fake teeth, you can tell when he smiles like this that his canines are too unnatural to be his.

"Always liked her, this one."

"As you've mentioned." Simon practically grumbles.

Price tsks at him, shaking him off with a wave of his hand.

"Come sit with me." He tells you. And because you don't know what to do right now, you listen.

Once youre settled, and Price has taken another puff of his cigar, he clears his throat and gives you a more serious look.

"So. Simon here is telling me you're having... Problems."

"I—"

Did he have to bring the CEO into this? Really? You crumble a little, shoulders caving into yourself.

"I apologize for my words, mister Riley, I was.." you drift off, staring at your hands on your lap. It doesn't feel real at all, that you're here getting reprimanded by the CEO himself.

"This is not about you," the older man says after another puff, and it jostles you a little that mister Price pats you on the knee, keeping his touch respectful. You look at Simon to see if he notices, and his eyes don't let anything betray him. The only thing that gives you pause is the way his hands tighten around the edges of his chair.

"Pardon?"

"It's Simon here, who's been overworking my best girl."

"I—"

You don't know what to say. You stare at the both of them.

Price's left side of his lips tilt upwards at what he finds in your face.

"I told him, when I handed you over, to be good to you."

"Sir, Its really fine —" you say, if only because you don't want to lose your job.

Smoke from his cigar blows towards you, and you cough a little behind your hand, face flaring with heat.

"Quiet, dollie."

You frown a little at that, though an unsettling feeling does grow within you, lower in your stomach.

"Come here, Boy."

Simon moves from his chair, and it's sheer surprise that makes your spine straighten. You'd never heard anyone dare speak to him that way — like a.. dog.

Ghost stands before you, and it's really ridiculous how while you sit, you come face to face with his crotch, and how much you want to lick the buldge.

That thought alone makes you shiver, and you wriggle in your seat.

"Kneel for her, Simon."

A noise rumbles in your boss' chest, but he does, and when he looks up at you, you're starstrucked. He's so handsome, old and rugged, yes, but he is so beautiful. With bright eyes, sharp features and a long face, yet fitting face for all of his features.

And when he looks into your eyes, with those thin fluttery blond lashes, you find yourself not being able to deny whatever he is he's about to do.

A hand snatches your attention from Simon, calloused fingers softly putting strands of your hair behind your ear.

"Simon's gonna show you how sorry he is about being such a pain in that perfect fucking arse of yours, okay, dollie?"

"N-no, I- I don't think that's appropriate, it's really—" a squeak cuts you off as Simon wraps his big, beefy hands around the back of your thighs and pulls you into your back.

You settle heavily, hair like a hallo around you. You can only stare up at Price as he smokes, watching Simon hungrily watching what lays between your pretty legs.

"Such a pretty little thing," Price coos, still a hand on your head.

You don't know why, but tears prickle at your eyes, and your heart is beating out of your chest. You want this — and yet, somehow, youre afraid.

"Go on, Simon." Price orders, and as he does so, he manspreads on the couch further, making it so your head is basically laying against his thigh. Strong and thick, though a bit softer now that he's retired.

Simon grunts a little. "M'sorry, little dove.."

His fingers splays themselves open on top of your mount, a sort of reverant touch you're not all that used to. He toys with your underwear.

"Couldn't let y'go home. Couln't have y'going on dates with tha' manchild..."

"Mister riley—"

"Simon," he growls. "When m'head is between your thighs, it's Simon to ya', pretty."

"It's fine, you don't have to.." your voice is thin, and you don't mean it.

Price ticks his tongue as though he can hear the lies on your tongue. He rubs his hand through your scalp, soothing you. "Show the pretty doll just how much she deserves."

Simon lowers himself, and his lips trail up your underwear, where a wet patch is steadily growing.

"M'sorry, dovie." He says again, sounding everything but sorry. His fingers gently slide your briefs off, and his face flushes at the sight of you, his eyes going a bit more shiny.

You've never seen him that way — always the severe faced boss everyone wants to avoid. But like this.. it looks like he's infatuated and has nothing else on his mind but eating you alive.

His teeth surprisingly sink into your thigh, and you jerk, a noise like a mewl making it out of your mouth. Price shushes you gently.

When Simon pulls back, there's a mark, but you're not bleeding. It somehow makes your heart sore a little to see his mark.

"Don't tease th'poor thing," Price scolds, and you're watering eyes can barely see as he shakes his head at the younger man.

Simon growls, and shrugs. He digs in right away, lapping at you, holding your thighs so tightly you know it'll bruise.

His teeth rake only slightly against your bundle of nerves, and it has you jerking and crying out. Price quickly soothes you though, his now free hand that previously held a cigar rubbing your tummy, but also pressing it down so you stay still for mister Riley.

Simon is good, though. He eats you out like a man starved, and fucks your little hole with his tongue until you're gushing and crying and writhing against his mouth.

Even then he doesn't relent, and Price holds you, keeping you in place.

"C-cant—" you cry out, but Simon growls, and he, somehow, just goes harder, adding his fingers to the mix.

And then he's stroking that spot deep in you, his fingers unrelenting and rough in you, coaxing more orgasms from you.

At some point, you realize that you're seeing stars — literal stars. You can't feel your toes, and your legs on Simon's shoulders.

Simon only lets go because Price feels as you bite his thigh through his pants and pries him off.

Simon's face is slick all over the lower part of it, and he still looks hungry, fingers scissoring you open to look inside you. "Can't wait to fuck you open.." he sighs darkly, and you have to keen impression that he's not talking to you directly.

"Do you know how Sorry Simon is now, dollie? He'll be nice, won't he?"

Simon's eyes darken, and his lips curl. "Sure. G'nna be real nice to ha'."

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x afab!reader #john price x you #john price x reader #price x reader

350 notes · View notes

an-idyllic-novelist · 8 months

Text

Husk with Violet Evergarden!reader scenario

warnings: aged-up!reader [early to late twenties], spoilers for episode 4 to the season finale, mentions of physical abuse and attempted drugging, violence, Husk's language, dismemberment, mentions of cannibalism.

Hey guys, and welcome to another Hazbin Hotel fics, this time featuring our grumpy bartender and one of my favorite characters, Husk! :) This is a collaborated project with not just @isuckatwritingsobenice, but also with @vikkirosko, @witch-of-the-writing-desk, and @riddle-simp, who gave me honest feedback on the rough drafts and how to make it the best fic I could create before sharing it with the world.

If you would like to see more of Husk x Violet, please do let me know know in the comments section or as an ask! Like always, bullying is not tolerated here so if there is any implication of it happening here, this scenario will be taken down immediately. If you have nothing nice to say, do not say it at all.

With that being said, sit back, relax, and let's see who will win the full house at the card tables tonight :)

Reblog to support content creators!

Husk isn’t gonna deny it. It ain’t like him to deny the truth when it’s staring at him right in the fucking face. He thinks you are a little bit of an oddball. You don’t smile, you wear the same outfit every day, and you don’t eat much either unless Niffty practically drags you to the staff’s dining room from wherever she found you hiding. Normally, it’s one of two places: out in the backyard, or the greenhouse, because you’re the hotel’s groundskeeper. And that was on your days off.

Like Angel, you worked for an overlord, but your boss wasn’t that shitbag Valentino or Vox or Velvette. Your boss is Rosie, the owner of Rosie’s Emporium in the Cannibal Colony. You were her personal secretary. You had been on her payroll for over ten years, working from nine to five unless you had to stay later. She did not seem to mind you staying at the hotel so long as it did not affect her reputation or your work ethic in any way.

So far you’ve kept your word. Alastor actually seemed to be happy that you were around.

Maybe. Husk couldn’t fucking tell what that son of a bitch is thinking anymore. But back to you.

You, who believed in Charlie’s work.

You, who participated in each activity and helped around without getting paid for your time.

You, the expressionless ex-military soldier, has been on his mind recently and he did not like it.

He lost the ability to feel anything years ago.

Nonetheless he continued to observe you from afar. When you weren’t busy with watering plants, you were seen in different parts around the hotel with the others.

You would sit with the princess in the parlor, comparing ideas on what tomorrow’s group exercise should be, even when the only two ideas you’ve suggested were shot down immediately by Charlie. She didn’t like the idea of group bonding through hand-to-hand combat but loved the concept of showing appreciation to one another through handwritten letters. Vaggie approved the former. The latter? Not so much.

In the kitchen you would go through the cookbook with Niffty and Alastor, trying to decide on tonight’s dinner. They allowed you to help out, at least when it didn’t involve cracking eggs. Apparently you were not very good at separating the yolk.

When Sir Pentious was away from the hotel doing God knows what, he trusted you to look after the Egg Bois until he got back. You kept them busy around the greenhouse though they tended to make a bit of a mess.

Angel started to work extra late at the studio after his show and tell presentation. Something about making a big commercial and Val wanted to make big bucks on this new product that the Vees were launching in a week. You must have noticed that something was off about him, but you didn’t say anything to him. No words of encouragement, no comforting hand on his shoulder. All you did was clench your gloved hands into fists, watching him leave and…unsure of yourself. What you should do.

Husk heard you asking Niffty what were some of the kid’s favorite foods about that time, and she was more than happy to help you with whatever it was you needed as long as you left the kitchen sparkling when you were done. You were concerned about the kid. Least from what he could remember. He drank a lot that day.

When he woke up much later after falling asleep at the bar, hearing your footsteps descend down the grand staircase and towards the kitchen. Groggily, probably stupidly on his part, Husk thought it would be a great idea to know what the fuck you were up to so early in the morning. Turns out you were trying to cook something, judging from how you looked at the ratty cookbook propped up on the counter and the wide array of ingredients spread out.

He saw you cook finely chopped onions, garlic, and minced ground meat in the large frying pan on the left side of the stove. You stirred something in a smaller sauce pan on the right side with a wooden spoon. He saw you handle all of the ingredients with great care, placing them in a baking dish even when you weren’t wearing your leather gloves. A small shudder crawled down his spine at how the kitchen lights bounced off of the adamantium skeletal prosthetics that acted as your hands.

He didn’t even wanna know how exactly you lost them in the Great War.

Everything was soon laid out, layer by layer and placed in the oven. He didn’t know he stood there for so long, even when you began to clean up the kitchen with a rag. Time ticked by slowly, and then a delicious aroma tickled his nose even as he took another swing of the half-filled booze bottle he was holding. He was about to leave you alone, knowing you’d be fine when he saw you pull out the dish with your hands and no oven mittens on, you fucking moron! Then his mind remembered something that stopped him from making an entrance. You couldn’t feel anything with your prosthetics, not even as you placed it on the stove top to let it sit.

A couple of hours later - maybe he can’t keep track of time anymore so it might have been the following morning - he saw you giving Angel a large paper bag every morning before both of you left the hotel, and telling him to have a good day.

Angel grudgingly thanked you later on that evening when he got back…though did say your garlic bread needed some work. The next day, he gave you a paper bag, telling you to taste real Italian grub and try to replicate it.

Guess it became a game between the two of you, ‘cause Angel was slowly being someone real and not some fake whiny bitch.

As odd as you are….you cared about everyone in your own way, even when the words that came out of your mouth angered someone or made them cry, you tried. You never asked for help unless it was necessary, trying to learn everything on your own. And you were smart, Husk will give you that.

And he…he doesn’t know if he had the heart to tell you that redemption might not be possible. Unlike him, you still carried a spark of hope. You believe in the princess. He doesn’t want to be the one to see you reach your breaking point, to be dragged into a swamp of despair and get drowned in all sorts of addictions to cope with the pain. He was…anxious. No. He was scared for you. He wanted to help you but he was afraid that by intervening, he would just make matters worse.

It was better to just stick to the sidelines with a bottle of booze and watch everything happen like the bartender Alastor wanted him to be, right? Well, turns out he was wrong.

One night after he made Angel a drink and called him out on his bullshit for being fake, the whiny little bitch stormed out of the hotel. Vaggie tried to make him go out and bring him out, but Charlie intervened. All she asked him was to make sure that Angel was okay. Do not force him to come back if he isn't ready. Obviously judging from the distraught look on her face, something happened between the princess and Angel.

Husk did not know what or why, and he really did not want to play the role of a goddamned babysitter. Not when it was actually a slow evening and he didn’t have to hear these fucks bitch and moan for hours on end. But Vaggie’s glare, knowing Alastor would force him to do it because he fucking can and not knowing what would happen if he actually violated the terms of their contract, he left the hotel. The first place he went to were the streets. No luck. And no one had seen him. When he moved his search to the bars, he spotted Angel going inside one of them.

Long story short, he was going to hang back and just keep an eye on Angel getting drunk off his ass with some shady sharks in a corner booth until he saw one of them pour something into Angel’s drink. He took care of the fucker, got Angel out, and listened to him. Angel Dust was not just an act. It’s who he needs to be. Drinking and getting high is his escape. He wants to be damaged so that he won’t be Val’s favorite toy anymore.

Then when it seemed like they came to an understanding with a song, those bastards opened fire on the streets, targeting him and wanting Angel to come back to have some ‘fun’. Yeah, fuck no.

That was when he heard car tires screeching against the asphalt, doors opening and closing with more shouting. Husk gritted his teeth. “Shit.” He turned to Angel. “Stay down. I’ll take care of this.” He pulled out his cards, ready to hop onto the roof of the pink Volkswagen they were hiding when he heard a shnk, a high pitched squeal, then a gurgle.

THUD.

Shnk.

THUD.

C-crack.

THUD.

“Who the fuck is this bitch?! Kill her, kill her you stupid asshats!”

“Holy shit, toots?! The fuck - why is she here?!” Angel cried. Husk raised his brow, craning his head as far as he could without being in range of a bullet to see what was going on. There were only two people Angel called toots and he was pretty damned sure they were back at the hotel, safe and sound. Not one of them blitzing across the street, dodging bullets and slicing enemies down with a hunter’s knife in one hand, a large carpet bag in the other.

He blinked. Nope. He was sober. Shit. He thought as you weaved between the shitheads, disarming, decapitating, and snapping their necks in no particular order. You weren’t exaggerating when you said you were a weapon for the army. When he saw a flash of movement from the smaller grunt, twirling a knife and aiming it for your head as you pumped lead into his friend, Husk made his move. Hopping onto top of the car and threw his cards. One cleanly sliced the asshole’s neck.

He quickly made through the growing crowd, running towards you as he threw some dice into a hammerhead’s mouth. But when he turned his back towards them, he felt something light and strong coil around his neck, cutting off his air supply.

Fuck. Garroting wire! Husk flailed around scratching, kicking, and trying to get loose but the fucker was too damned strong. Black spots began to appear in the corner of his eyes when he felt a white hot stinging pain graze his left cheek, then something warm and sticky with a metallic scent. Blood.

The body behind him dropped, and so did he, yanking the wire off him and inhaling deep gulps of precious oxygen. Husk looked up and saw Angel with a shit-eating grin and a Tommy Gun in his upper hands.

“Eat lead, sucker!” The porn star cackled, firing several more bullets into the corpse and his buddies that were closing in on them. Angel grinned at him, extending a hand to help him up.”I told ya. I can handle myself, baby.” Husk felt a grin stretching his own face as the fella pulled out more weapons with more arms. Well….not something he was expecting.

Between the three of them, they made quick work with the rest of the gang and their reinforcements. Like him and Angel, you were covered in grime and blood but you were all right.

“Are you two all right?” You asked as you wiped off the blood from your knife with a handkerchief, the carpet bag by your feet and in pristine condition. “No limbs missing that weren’t missing before you arrived?”

“Yeah, we’re good.” Angel said, putting away his guns and extra limbs. “More importantly, why the fuck are you out here instead of the hotel?!” He interrogated, his voice lowering an octave as he glared at you, stomping towards you. Before Husk could stop him, Angel grabbed your cheeks with his hands and pinched them. “You know these streets are dangerous, toots! How many times do Vags and I gotta tell ya?! Come straight home when you’re done with work!” Then he blinked, his face turning white, his eyes widening in horror. “Toots,” He said slowly. “Y-you ain’t hooking up with anyone around here, are ya?!” He yelled, now pulling your cheeks outwards as if you were a cartoon character.

You didn’t flinch from the cheek pinching or pulling; instead, you looked at him in slightly confusion. “I don’t understand. What does fishing have anything to do with this except that these men were quite literally loan sharks standing outside a nautical-themed bar?” You asked.

“Toots.” Angel said warningly. “If you don’t give me a straight answer, I swear to fucking God I am going to yeet you off a rooftop.”

“ ‘Yeet’?” You repeated.

“[First Name], just tell us why you’re here.” Husk said, already feeling a headache coming on and in need of a drink. You turned your attention to him, then back at Angel before you spoke.

“Rosie sent me out on a last-minute errand to get fertilizer for her plants. But by the time I got there, the shop was already closed. I was on my way home when I heard the gunshots, and saw the two of you being pinned down. I was not going to leave my comrades behind when I could help them. So I did. And now,” You looked over at the bodies strewn across the street. “I have what I need. Two birds with one stone, as Rosie says.”

“Ya mean ‘kill two birds with one stone’, toots?”

“Yes.”

“So, by fertilizer, ya mean these schmucks that we just totally obliterated.”

“Yes.”

“Food for plants.”

“Carnivorous plants. And if the fertilizer is fresh, the better it is for them. Rosie loves her plants very much.” You said, pulling away from Angel and grabbed the carpet bag off of the ground, walking towards the nearest body. “If you do not want to be here, I suggest you leave quickly.” You knelt down, laying the bag down and opened it, laying out assorted tools. Bone saws, knives, a large roll of plastic wrap, etc. “Rosie says I have gotten much quicker at dismemberment.” You carefully peeled off your gloves, replacing them with gray surgical ones.

Husk glanced at Angel, eyebrow raised. It seemed like they were thinking the same thing because the latter spoke up with a toothy grin.

“Baby, I was a mobster long before I was a porn star. ‘Sides, hacking up a body all by yourself is gonna take you all night. Better to have more hands to get the job neater an’ faster, am I right Whiskers?”

Husk smirked. “Can’t argue with that, Legs. Guess you’re stuck with us until this job is done. You got another bone saw in that bag of yours?” He asked with a grin, somehow…happy to actually be doing this. Who would have thought a new friendship started with cleaning up bodies?

You stared at them for a moment, obviously stunned because you must have thought they’d leave you here alone, before you pulled out two more bone saws and more rubber gloves. Your instructions were simple enough: the severed pieces couldn't be any bigger than your body, and they needed to be wrapped up tightly in the plastic wrapping or else you’d have to pay a hefty cleaning bill to get the blood out of the bottom of the bag. Angel’s extra limbs came in handy for the latter task. Between the three of you, quick work was made with the dead loan sharks and everything was loaded inside the carpet bag, and no one was the wiser. This was Hell, after all. Cannibalism, gun fights, and dismemberment was commonplace in these parts.

You thanked him and Angel profusely, bowing your head to them before you shyly asked if they would be interested in getting a bite to eat. To Angel’s knowledge, the closest place that is still open late at night is Devil’s Diner, which is half a block from Jackpot, the casino Husk had owned from his glory days as an overlord. The food wasn’t too bad there, and cheap too.

Now that he thought about it, Husk had worked up more of an appetite after the fight and so did Angel. Better to do that than trying to cook something and waking up Niffty. So, the three of you went to Devil’s Diner. Of course, you tried to just have a cup of coffee, but neither he nor Angel were having it. Conditioning your body to minimize nutrients to complete a mission, his ass.

Both he and Angel persuaded you to try the day’s special with some water plus dessert. Whatever you couldn’t finish, get a to-go box. Husk himself ordered a sandwich with chips. Angel got pancakes, sausage, strawberries, and a strong drink because he fucking deserved it.

Conversation started slow at first, but as the orders were placed and drinks were served by their waiter, words were exchanged, and stories were shared. Angel revealed he had a little brother and more family down here, though he rarely talked to them anymore after getting into the show biz. Husk confessed that he used to be a magician in Las Vegas, showing off a trick with his cards.

They shared a good laugh over Val’s shitty eyesight. It shouldn’t take thirty minutes to count three bills, but it fucking did for the moth man.

You told them that you were once commissioned to help a playwright finish his newest script after being on a hiatus for many years, but he had been a difficult man to work with because he had no interest in doing anything else except drinking his days away. You had actually acted out a scene on the lake where the hero would journey home to be reunited with her father after vanquishing a monster. That was when you began to understand how grief affects people in different ways…and how your actions affected the people you had killed on the battlefield. People who had families and had one-day wishes that would never be fulfilled because they died by your hand. You are here in Hell because you are, you were, a weapon to be used in war. Reconnecting with people, with your emotions…it’s a lot harder than you thought it would be.

“That’s what being human is all about.” Husk said. “Ya make mistakes, ya regret the choices ya wish ya would have made, or should’ve made, and ya need to live with it.” He knew that better than anyone.

“The old timer’s got a point but look at how far you’ve come!” Angel exclaimed, spreading his arms out as he began listing all the good things you have done and accomplished since you came to the hotel, though you still needed to learn how to bake real Italian bread, not just heat up the cheap frozen ones in the oven. Husk silently agreed with him, taking another swing of his whiskey. In the end, you got a to-go box, but Angel said he could take it back with him to the hotel. You still needed to deliver the body parts to your cannibal superior and Husk said he’d go with you. But you insisted that you would be fine on your own, and that he and Angel should get some rest.

“Rosie will not let me stay long in the emporium with how late it already is. She’s very particular about keeping the lights on after business hours.” You said, the corners of your mouth tugging downwards into a frown as your gaze fell upon his wings. “Husk…you were twitching a little and I heard your spine crack earlier, and your voice sounded a little raspy. I do not know what the cause of your ailments beyond the scuffle with those loan sharks could be because I am not a doctor…but it would be better if you and Angel took it easy for the rest of the night.”

Keep in mind that Husk had once been an overlord. Yes, he’s been out of the game for a while, he won’t deny it. But he was not going to admit that you might be right. “There’s nothin’ to worry about, I’ll be fine. If I can handle a fight, taking you where you need to go will be a walk in the park.” He grumbled, ignoring Angel’s snickering.

He watched you raise your hand, fingers outstretched towards one of his wings, and then you pulled it away to clench your hand into a loose fist. Husk saw your hesitancy isn’t because you were disgusted at the sight of them, or his appearance. Hell, you had more bloodstains on your clothes than him and Angel combined. No. You were hesitating because you were afraid that your touch might hurt him, or make the pain he was feeling worse.

Husk grinned as he grabbed your wrist, pulling it forward and carefully coiling the gloved fingers around the outer part of the left wing near his forearm to give it a squeeze. “See?” He flexed the muscles. “I’m fine. You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about.” It took him a second to realize how impulsive his actions were, seeing how your eyes widened and hearing Angel release a low, teasing whistle, muttering “Kinky~!” under his breath. Great. The kid wasn’t going to let this go, not even after a few drinks. Shit. Fuck.

He tried to ignore the warmth flooding his face as he kept his gaze on you until you nodded your head, removing your hand from his wing. You were convinced that he was more than fine to accompany you back to Cannibal Colony, at least for the moment. You turned to Angel. “Are you going to be okay, heading back to the hotel on your own?”

Angel smiled toothily. “Toots, you should know me by now. Sex isn’t the only thing I’m good at.” He winked, holding up the to-go boxes as he turned on his heel, waving his extra hands over his shoulder. “See ya back at the bar! Ya still owe me a drink, Husker~!” Now that he left the diner, it was time for the two of you to make your exit.

You walked down the steps and looked at him. “Ready?”

Husk nodded. “Yeah.” He then held out his paw to you. “Let’s get going.” You nodded, placing your hand in the center of his own, covering the golden-heart shaped paw before he scooped you up in his arms, one claw under your legs and the other around your shoulders. You stared at him.

“What-”

“Hang on tight.” Husk did not give you a chance to respond, unfurling his wings to their full length before putting all of his weight on his back leg, catapulting the two of you into the crimson skies of the Pride Ring. Walking was fine and all, but as you mentioned, it was already pretty late. Why waste more time when he could fly there?

So here you were, held like a princess with one arm wrapped around the carpet bag and your hand placed on his shoulder. But instead of screaming your head off or pleading with him to land somewhere, your attention was elsewhere. You were captivated with the multi-colored pin pricks of light down below, your mouth partly open and [Eye Color] irises widened by a fraction. It was obvious that you hadn’t seen Hell from above. Or maybe you hadn’t traveled by air before. Either way, seeing such an expression on your face, one that wasn’t calm or expressionless like a doll who lived by someone else’s order.

You looked like a living, breathing human who had her own thoughts and could find beauty in the most bizarre of places.

It almost made Husk consider extending this flight for a little longer until he realized he’d have to explain to you in great detail as to why he did decide to do it. So he brushed it off, and followed your instructions to your destination.

Twenty minutes later, the two of you arrived at the stone steps leading up to the glass double doors of Rosie’s Emporium. The dimly lit streets were mostly empty, the bars were still open and echoed with raucous laughter and jazz. It was tempting to slip inside there for a drink, but Husk wasn’t too keen on being around cannibalistic drunks. Alcoholic he might be, he wasn’t that stupid. And he didn’t want you to get in trouble with the overlord who ran this place. She was your boss, not his.

He watched you put a hand into your coat pocket and pulled out a small golden key. You put it in the dead bolt, twisting it to the left before pushing the door open. “Miss Rosie?” You called out, stepping inside the darkened establishment. “Miss Rosie, it is me. I am back.”

A moment of silence enveloped the place, but only briefly because soon a tall, thin woman in a burgundy dress with an oversized hat and feathers materialized in front of you. She was at least two or three heads taller than you, smiling down with rows of sharp, gray teeth and pitch black orbs. “Oh there you are, I was startin’ to really get worried! Did John give you everything for my precious little sprouts?”

You quickly explained what had happened, how you could not see John because he had closed the shop by the time you got there but the fertilizer you collected from a gun fight you got into and came out victorious should be more than enough. Rosie was all but delighted, twirling in a small circle as she cooed.

“Ohh, I knew it was a good idea to hire you from the moment you came for the interview! I wish I could’ve seen you at work, using that bone saw and hacking away at corpses, but there’s always another day~! You know how many people come in wishing to have their husbands or wives ripped from limb to limb, at least the ones that taste bad! Ah?” She stopped dancing, craning her long neck to stare at him. “Who’s this you brought with you, [First Name]?” She looked over her shoulder, wagging a finger at you with a raised brow. “Come now, I know I said I wanted you to find a good fella someday, but this one’s way too scruffy for you and you’re much too young for him! Oh, I’m just kidding, I know you’re dedicated to your job! Well? Introduce us!”

You did, introducing him to the overlord as Husk and the hotel’s bartender. Alastor must have told her about him because she immediately called him ‘Alastor’s kitty cat’ and ‘how he used to be such a sophisticated-looking fella until he gambled against Alastor’. She laughed. “Well, small world, after all! [First Name], be a dear and take that bag into the back, will you? I’ll feed the little monsters myself, and you can go home! Oh, did you want some pinky fingers to go? I’ve got plenty of them and you probably didn’t eat dinner again, am I right?”

“Understood. And no thank you, though I will take up on the offer to try one of those roasted legs next time.” Husk almost gagged at your monotone words and Rosie’s cackle, but he had to keep his composure. As far as he knew, you were not a cannibal. And if you were…well, you probably wouldn’t have gone out of your way to help him and Angel, or at least order something from the Cannibal’s Section at the diner instead of force feeding yourself on the daily special.

You might have only been gone for a few minutes, but it was awkward to stand near Rosie, the way she smiled at him like she was thinking about adding him to her menu for not dressing up in a vintage outfit. At least he hoped not. He could barely contain his relieved sigh when you appeared again, hands empty with no bag in sight.

“It’s done.”

“Wonderful~! Now, you march up to bed as soon as you get in the door young lady! No staying up late!” She said, following the two of you to the door. “Give my regards to Alastor and tell that man he must come back soon! These halls have lost their sparkle without his lively presence! Oh! Before I forget~!” She snapped her fingers, and in a puff of dark red smoke, a large wad of bills materialized in your hands. “Here’s your paycheck! I know it’s a little early but I have a very important task for you to do tomorrow!” She grinned. “Go to town and buy yourself some new clothes for work!”

You faltered. “But -”

“Tomorrow is your day off I know, and I really, really love your enthusiasm when you try to come in to help around, but a proper lady of society cannot live on just one dress and a pair of boots! Oh, and you will also need to get a Hellphone in case something like this happens again! No ifs, ands, or buts! If Alastor throws a fit about it, I’ll talk to him! Now, shoo! Husker, be a dear and get my darling worker back to that hotel safely, all right?” She added with a wink.

Husk grunted exasperatedly but did not say a word. The last thing he wanted to do was go pissing off an overlord who just happened to be the Boss’ friend. So he just nodded, and followed you out of the door. When it shut behind them with a click, things got…awkward. Now that you weren’t carrying around a bag full of body parts, there was no need to fly all the way back to the hotel. Or at least that he thought you were thinking.

But he told you that he didn’t mind, since Charlie was probably already worried about the two of you even if Angel had somehow managed to persuade her otherwise. So…you agreed, albeit hesitantly. Husk didn't waste any more time. He scooped you up in his arms and took off into the night skies, though with this being the Pride Ring, there was really no way to tell if it was day or night anymore. Cannibal Colony soon became another darkened spot, getting smaller and smaller until it disappeared from sight.

As soon as the two of you made it back to the hotel, Husk had no doubt everyone would be giving him shit. Angel would make comments on his little ‘date’ went, which he’ll deny in every possible way, and the princess might be cryin’ from anxiety or relief knowing that two of you were all right. But that was then. This is now. And…he’s come to like holding you in his arms.

“Husk?”

“Yeah?” He felt the arms around his neck tighten slightly…but not that it wasn’t too uncomfortable. It felt…okay. Like you were trying to say something, but you struggled to find the right words to say without sounding like an ass.

“Thank you…for everything.”

His lips stretched into a grin. "You're welcome."

He felt the cold of your palms, it would seem, through the gloves, but it was not so important. Because as the two of you flew back to the place you called home, he saw you smiling down at the Pentagram in wonder, whispering the places you had visited and or wondered what they were or if he knew anything about them, to which he either answered yes or no. It was such a small smile, but how could he not commit not it to his memory?

And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to get a drink with you on a night around town. Or make one for you at his bar. He knew how to make a good non-alcoholic pina colada, even an alcoholic version of it. But who knows? He’ll take things one step at a time, and see what happens.

What Husk did not realize at the time, not too far in the distant future, you would be the one to close the gap between them…and there would be something more between the two of you. Something that made his days in Hell just a little brighter.

Taglist: @riddle-simp @kanroji-san @star-fawn21 @luthefriendlywitch @kameyo-kumo @solesurvivorjen @solandis-does-stuff @ladydoe8 @victheauthor @anielly-2010 @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @bones4thecats @mmelionsblog @frompeach @nixie-writes @tired-of-life-86 @trecllllllll @lanxianschoenheit @22carolina08 @justamegafan @the-cat-queen-peasants @oucx @diamondzoey @alyriaschoenheit @lbcreations-blog @alastorsart @nunezs-stuff @sillypenguincats @theunknowntravel3r @imperfectbloodmoon @no1sillybilly @likesugarandcyanide @bladeismine @bones4thecats

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel husk #husk x reader #husk x you #hazbin spoilers #viviziepop #cw physical abuse #tw physical abuse #cw violence #tw violence #cw cannibalism #tw cannibalism #cw language #tw language #violet evergarden!reader #fem!reader #character!reader

457 notes · View notes

sky-high-standards · 1 year

Text

Yandere!!! Millionaire!! x Fem!!Reader

(thanks for 400 followers edited thanks for 1000 love y'all)You were in a very poor family but somehow you caught the attention of a crazy Millionaire.

You were working at a local coffee shop to feed your family when a man with jet black hair wearing a expensive looking suit came in, he was undeniably attractive but his cold black eyes made you feel a chill run down your spine.

Then he made eye contact with you before smirking, he then came up to ask for your name and number but when you refused he tried to take you by force but you managed to escape and run into the break room.

He kept coming day after day yet somehow you managed to weasel your way out of talking to him but your luck soon ran out when you were suddenly cornered and pinned by your wrists, you looked up to see him with a smug smirk on his face.

"I know you've been avoiding me sweetheart."

"What's wrong with you? What do you want from me?!'

"Don't you get it? I want you~"

"You dot even know me!!!"

"Oh I know everything about you Y/n"

you gasped and tried to escape for the hundredth time but his grip was too strong.

"I know that your family is starving and are soon going to get evicted, I know that you work overtime just to feed your family and I know that you need a miracle to save them and I'm that miracle Darling~ Just do as I say and make it easier for everyone Sweetheart."

"No you're just a spoiled brat who gets everything he wants and you're not gonna get me!!!"

you said in anger and stormed off while he just stood there and smirked.

"Okay my dear let the games begin"

A few weeks after that encounter you stopped seeing him and genuinely thought he lost interest and left you alone but you felt something much worse was coming and you were right. As you came to work the next day your boss came and fired you on the spot you were shocked of course since you've been employee of the month for the past 6 months and your boss seemed terrified as he spoke to you almost like he was scared to say the wrong thing and constantly looked to the side as if some monster was here in the shadows and as soon as he fired you he ran inside.

This was terrible for you because without a job how could you feed your family but when you looked for new jobs the manager would fire you shortly after with the same look of fear as your former boss but when you finally found a job that paid well you immediately took it you were hired as an assistant for a wealthy business owner, you came to work the next morning in your best clothes and started working but as you went to your bosses office who were horrified to see the same creep from the coffee shop you stood there with your jaw dropped as he smirked and caressed your cheek.

"Well isn't it my lovely new assistant its nice to see you again y/n~"

All you could do was grit your teeth and greet him since he was your family's only hope now and you couldn't afford to get fired not again.

As worked days past he became far more touchy and would take any opportunity to touch you in any way possible this was tolerable until you came to work on day to find your seat was gone and he offered you to sit on his lap which sounded more like an order than an offer so you begrudgingly agreed while gritting your teeth and giving him a forced smile. He smirked back satisfied at how powerless you were with him now.

"Good girl~"

He said and you could here the satisfaction in his voice as you dug your fingernails into your palms in rage.

Though you constantly got harassed by your boss the job wasn't so bad due to the many friends you made and because your family was happy and healthy but good things don't last. One day after you came back from your break which u spent with your friends you boss went crazy and fired everyone that was with you because "they were only bringing you down." and "they made you loose sight of what was important" (which was him) and when you attempted to quit realized what he was capable of.

Sir I quit I'll clear out my desk now.

He then grabs you by the wrist and pins you to the wall where you're caged by his muscular arms and he whispered in your ear where you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips.

"You know you cant do that Dear you don't know what I'm capable of that sweet little family of yours wont be around much longer is you disobey me dear."

You gasped in fear and shock but he smiled at your reaction.

"Now be a good girl and do as I say"

He said as he pulled away and went back to his usual demeanor. Every time you found someone new they would go missing so you isolated yourself not wanting anyone else to get hurt but when your brother got really sick and you had to take care him for a few days but your boss didn't like that.

You came home to find the read stains? No it was blood but not just anyone's blood this was the blood of your family leading the way to their lifeless bodies the moment you saw that sight it was permenantly burned into your mind you still see that horrendous sight when you close your eyes...you broke down in tears and got on your knees devastated but you then got picked up by a pair of firm strong arms and felt a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I know you loved them Dear, but they kept you away from me and besides we'll have our own family soon enough~♥

963 notes · View notes

ladycaramelswirl · 1 month

Text

It Happened in Texas

Aaron Hotchner x Fem Reader ❤︎ Chapter 1: Apparently you have a magnet for shitty bosses

series masterlist

A/N: For plot purposes, Haley is not in the picture, but Jack does appear later in the story. Also I gave Strauss some of Linda Barnes’s personality so she’s really annoying :)

Tags/Warnings: mentions of violence typical to Criminal Minds. This becomes a comedy in chapter 2, but chapter 1 is very world/character-buildy, sorry 😭 It gets funnier I swear 🤡

The case in this chapter is loosely based on s3e8.

word count: 2k

Enjoy! 🤍

❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎❤︎

“Absolutely not”.

The dark-haired man tries to rein in his barely concealed anger at his boss, who, honestly, you weren’t exactly a huge fan of right now either. He gestures to you.

“I don’t know anything about her. It’s my job to decide whether someone is a good fit for the team”, he scowls. Frankly, you’re impressed that he hasn’t exploded.

“Agent Hotchner, I have hired her because I think she’s perfectly capable of doing the job”.

You swallow a scoff. Sure. That’s why.

“My decision is final. And you have a case to get to”, Strauss snaps.

Agent Hotchner glares at her as she walks away. Then he turns his stare to you.

“We’re leaving for a case in 10 minutes. Do you have your go bag?”, he asks, not unkindly.

“Yes sir.”

He nods and walks towards the BAU bullpen. You follow him.

“I trust you’ll keep this altercation between us”, he tells you. “I don’t want the team to be distracted”.

“Yes, sir”.

“Just call me Hotch.”

“Yes, s- Hotch”.

He’s being pretty nice given the situation he’s been put in. But you wonder, not for the first time today, if you should have turned down this job.

————————————

15 minutes ago

“Come in”.

You step into the office of the blonde woman you’d interviewed with. She had been quite pleasant then.

“Assistant Director Strauss”, you greet her.

“Agent. Take a seat. I’d like to discuss some things before I introduce you to your unit chief”.

You wonder what the unit chief is like. You’d heard great things about Aaron Hotchner from your former colleagues.

“As I’m sure you know this position at the BAU is a highly coveted opportunity”, she starts.

“Yes ma’am”.

“I’d like you to be comfortable here, so I hope we can work together to make that happen”.

Oh?

“Thank you ma’am. I’ll do my best.”

“Excellent! I’ll be expecting an additional personal report for all of your cases.”

“I’m sorry?”

She smiles at you like you’re stupid.

“Agent Hotchner might run a tight ship, but it’s my job to make sure it runs smoothly”, she tells you. “So I just need you to give me details about your cases. No need to mention it to Agent Hotchner, just write the report and send it straight to me.”

“You want me to report on the team? Without telling them?”

This was not what you signed up for.

She laughs mirthlessly.

“It’s just a report agent. Think of it as a … peer evaluation. I just want to make sure there’s no issues. I’m sure you would understand. Especially after what happened in Houston?”

You grit your teeth. Of course she knew.

“Yes ma’am”.

You try to smile.

“I knew I was right to hire you”, she says.

You both know you’re only here because she was the only one who accepted your transfer request.

“Agent. If this conversation leaves this room, you’ll have to understand why I can no longer keep you on this team”.

Fantastic. You were already getting threatened on your first day.

You plaster on a smile.

“Of course.”

She smiles back, just as fake.

“Great. Now I’ll introduce you to Agent Hotchner. You’ll have to forgive him for his … attitude”, she says contemptuously. “He’s going through a rough time”.

And now your boss was moody too? You were regretting come here by the second.

Strauss presses the intercom button on her phone.

“Send him in”.

The door is opened by a tall, handsome man. He’s maybe in his late 30s, and he’s well dressed. He has authority figure written all over him, but he looks confused to see you.

“Assistant Director?”, he greets. You suspect it’s not often that he’s walked into a situation where he doesn’t know what’s happening. An exception being right now.

“Agent Hotchner, come in. I’d like you to meet Agent Y/L/N”.

He stretches a hand forward and you shake it.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise”.

He looks at Strauss.

“What is this about?”

Strauss looks like she’s holding back a grin.

“She’ll be joining the BAU effective immediately”.

Agent Hotchner looks like he’s just been handed a bomb.

————————————

Present

He doesn’t talk to you at all as you’re climbing into the jet. The team don’t pretend to hide their shock at your arrival. Hotch quickly introduces you and then takes a seat at the back. You politely smile at their wide eyes, but inside you try to fight the urge to turn around and go kick Strauss in the shin. She didn’t even tell them she was hiring you. Unbelievable. This day could not get any worse. The team starts asking you all sorts of questions. Hotch cuts them off.

“That’s enough. Brief us on the case JJ”.

They all follow his directive immediately. A pretty blonde woman who must be JJ hands everyone on the team a file. There’s a pause as everyone realises you don’t have one, because she didn’t know you would be here. A dark haired woman who introduces herself as Emily offers to share hers with you. You smile at her gratefully and try to be invisible as JJ briefs the team.

—————————

Your first case is in Bridgewater, Florida. A girl has been found with her body eaten by alligators, her fingers cut off and a pentagram carved into her chest. It’s not exactly a great first day welcome. Hotch comes back from the coroner’s office with news that the victim had been force fed fingers before her death. And that none of them were hers, and six of them are index fingers. Remember when you thought your day couldn’t get any worse? This was definitely worse. You wince at the news and Emily looks at you with concern.

“You okay?”

You nod, but notice JJ and Agent Morgan discreetly share a dubious look. The latter turns to face you.

“Field offices aren’t exactly the same as the BAU. If you’re not up to it-“

“I’m fine. I’d just like to catch the guy that did this”, you tell him.

You refuse to look weak or feed into the suspicion that you don’t deserve to be here. Morgan stares at you before nodding in agreement and moving away to look over some files. You do the same to avoid any more conversation, and then notice something strange. You pull out a photo.

“This crime scene shows the books the victim was carrying were arranged into a neat row. This specific placement could suggest the unsub was at some point in a mental institution”.

Morgan looks doubtful, but still takes a look.

Agent Reid springs up. “Of course! When the severely mentally ill are institutionalised, they’re taught to keep things clean and neat to promote order, exactly like the books in that photo!”

You’re a little speechless at his enthusiasm, but it seems his confirmation convinces the team, who now look a little less skeptical about your abilities. They call Garcia to check for names and update Hotch. Garcia calls back about a specific mental institution for a case like the one you’re looking for. Hotch immediately stands up to leave.

“Reid, let’s go”, he orders. The young genius scuttles after him.

They find a name for the unsub, Floyd Feylinn Ferrel - a cannibal that believes he’s possessed by a flesh eating demon. He was also at the search party earlier to look for a missing girl. The team finds him, but one victim is still missing - Tracy Lambert. Floyd refuses to talk without Father Marks, the priest at his church. They bring him into the interrogation room with Morgan while you and Rossi pore over the sign in sheets from the search party. You frown.

“Somethings wrong”, you mutter. The older agent looks at you in confusion.

“He signed the volunteer sheet, but not the search team sheet. It doesn’t make sense”, you say, handing him the papers. Usually unsubs joined the search team. Why would he just volunteer to be there?

“Father, I feel so alone. Like God has abandoned me”, Floyd laments.

The priest shakes his head kindly. “You are not alone, my son. God is in all of us”.

Your stomach drops as you see exactly what Floyd had volunteered for - the food station.

“We need to stop the interview”, you panic, flinging open the interrogation room door.

Floyd stares right at you and grins.

“So is Tracy Lambert”.

—————————

The plane ride back is quiet. You thankfully hadn’t eaten anything at the search, but you still feel nauseous. Is this what all BAU cases were like? Maybe it wasn’t too late to reapply somewhere else? Your unit chief interrupts your thoughts.

“Good job today Reid, we wouldn’t have caught him if you hadn’t noticed the books”, he says. You freeze in your seat, but the younger agent doesn’t notice your discomfort. In fact he barely looks up from his book to correct the unit chief.

“Actually it wasn’t me that figured it out. It was y/n”.

Hotch looks taken aback and he turns to you, which leads to some awkward eye contact. He looks pained, but he gives you a nod and then moves to the back of the plane.

Emily nudges your elbow from her seat next to yours.

“You did good today. He’ll come around”, she tells you.

“I really didn’t know that no one was informed of my transfer-”, you try to explain, but she stops you.

“I know better than anyone how you feel right now. As long as you do your job and are loyal to the team, everything’s going to be fine”.

You nod.

“Look, today was a rough case. We’re going for drinks when we land. Want to come?”, she offers.

You think about the report you’re about to write for Strauss tonight, detailing everything that just happened today. It’s going to take you hours to make sure it doesn’t incriminate anyone on the team.

“No, I’m tired, but thanks. You guys have fun”.

On the drive home, you realise that you won’t ever be friends with them. You were a spy, even if you didn’t want to be.

You had come here to escape. Instead, you had just traded one prison for another.

————————————

Emily enters Penelope’s office to pick her up before drinks.

Penelope greets her with a guilty look.

“Ok. I did something, but don’t be mad. I looked into her file”.

“Pen!”

“What? She’s new, I don’t like new. And we don’t know anything about her. Don’t you want to know how she got hired without Hotch’s approval?”

Emily raises an eyebrow.

“I was hired without Hotch’s approval.”

Penelope gives her puppy eyes and Emily gives in.

“Fine. What did you find?”

The analyst practically lights up.

“Ok, so she graduated the FBI academy with high scores. Went straight to the Houston field office and she was very good at her job - excellent peer reviews and high scores on all of her evaluations”, Penelope starts, putting all of your personal data onto her screen. “Almost everything about her is perfect. Except-“, she clicks on a file. “About two months ago she suddenly requested a transfer to basically every department that was hiring and got rejected by almost all of them. Except ours”.

Emily frowns. “She has stellar performance evaluations but no one wants to hire her? And why was she so desperate to transfer?”

“Yeah, I thought that was weird too, so I looked into it, but there’s nothing. Except that in her last month at Houston, she isn’t listed on a single one of their cases.”

“None?”

“It’s like she didn’t exist, but she was there every day, I checked her attendance and it’s flawless”.

Emily presses her lips together. She remembers how much she had tried to seal her own history.

“I don’t think we should be looking anymore. If whatever happened isn’t in the database, then we aren’t meant to see it. She’ll tell us when she’s ready”.

Penelope looks apprehensive, but she closes the files.

“She’s really nice! And she’s good, she helped us solve the case today”, Emily tries to convince the IT specialist.

“I’m telling you something is fishy”.

Emily might not say it out loud, but she definitely agreed.

❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

Chapter 2

#criminal minds #bau team #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #spencer reid #derek morgan #penelope garcia #david rossi #criminal minds x reader #jennifer jj jareau

154 notes · View notes

emo-batboy · 1 year

Note

Okay what is this I keep hearing about Harvery Dent and Bruce Wayne being caught kissing???? Storytime?

Okay so this is probably a much longer winded story than I’m sure you expected but here’s my whole explanation of Harvey/Two-Face in the Battinson universe:

I always like to imagine that there is a distinct difference between Harvey and Two-Face. In this world, Harvey is regarded as an accomplished man suffering from DID who is forced to live in Arkham to keep his second personality, Two-Face, behind bars. Meanwhile, Two-Face is a notorious crime boss and master manipulator. They share the same body, yes, and it almost impossible to tell them apart sometimes, yes, but Bruce is the only person that can reliably tell who is in control.

You see, over the years, Two-Face has become an expert at pretending to be Harvey, so much so that the guards at Arkham just refer to them as Dent now. There have been several incidents where doctors believed Harvey was somehow cured of his DID and they gave him more privileges due to “good behavior,” only for Two-Face to bash a prison guard’s skull in while trying to escape.

But the one person he can’t fool is Bruce, the man who knows Harvey so intimately that he can examine his facial features down to the micro expression.

They thought they would get married one day, Bruce and Harvey. It was sickeningly sweet. They were so madly in love. Then the accident worsened Harvey’s condition. Bruce will never forgive Two-Face for taking his true love away from him.

Bruce visits Arkham once a week to see Harvey. Only the guards know about their past relationship because the two can’t stop giving one another heart eyes while they play chess and tell each other about their day. They’ll talk for hours, and it’s no secret that a pretty, Bambi-eyed, lovestruck Brucie Wayne will pay off any guard to see his “friend” for another fifteen minutes or so.

But sometimes, Bruce walks into the room, sees Dent’s face, and immediately storms out. Because it’s Two-Face. Posing as his former lover, wearing his lips and cheeks and nose, but the eyes are just wrong, all wrong, and he’s giving Bruce a smile that isn’t even close to Harvey’s gorgeous smile. And it’s sick. The guards can’t tell, the other patients prisoners can’t tell, no one else can tell but oh, Bruce can fucking tell.

On other days, Bruce will be talking with Harvey one second, only to stop mid-sentence, scowl at him, and say, “Give him back. I’m not talking to you.”

Two-Face breaks into a grin. “I can never pull one over on you, can I, sweetheart?”

“Shut the fuck up. Where is he?”

“He says he loves you, and you look very nice.”

Bruce has been held back by the guards several times for this very reason. He blames himself that they can’t hold hands during visits anymore. Instead, they talk through that stupid fucking glass, but at least they get a private room. The guards now know that even if pretty Brucie Wayne looks sweet and delicate when talking to Harvey, he can also throw a decent punch.

On good weeks, it’ll be nothing but soft words and smiles.

“I finally bought those chocolates you recommended,” Bruce says.

Harvey smiles. “Did you like them?”

“I did. Thank you.”

On bad weeks, Bruce will leave with hot tears streaming down his face, and the guards will treat Two-Face just a little harsher than necessary as they escort him back to his cell.

Sometimes, it’s a mix of both. Even rarer are the days when Harvey comes back right before Bruce leaves to say goodbye to his angel. Those moments are the most tender because they all know Harvey has trouble taking control back. But he did it for Bruce, just to make him smile again before they parted ways.

One day, however, a guard thinks he can flirt with Bruce. He makes a move when no one’s looking and receives an answer in the form of a black eye. Only a day later, he gets maimed by Dent and lands in the hospital. Bruce learns about it during his next visit.

“Your boyfriend’s other half tried to kill that guard last week,” another guard tells him.

“The one that grabbed my ass?”

“Two-Face put him in a coma.”

Bruce chuckles and picks at a loose thread from his dress shirt. “What you makes you so sure it was Two-Face?”

No guard tries making a move on Arkham’s favorite visitor again. And the star-crossed lovers keep seeing one another and confessing their undying love. Even after they accept their fate. Even when Bruce tells Harvey about Selina and how he’s slowly falling in love with her too. But something is holding him back.

“I don’t want to let you go,” Bruce whispers.

“I don’t either,” Harvey says, tracing his love’s hand through the bulletproof glass, “but I want you to be happy.”

“But I’m happy with you.” Bruce was always a crybaby, but he hates crying in here the most.

“You can be happy with me in here. But I can’t bear to be the reason you’re not happy out there.”

After a bit more convincing, Bruce finally agrees. Before beginning a new relationship, he tells Selina about him and Harvey, tells her that it’s non-negotiable, and she accepts it.

The next time Dent breaks out of Arkham, Selina gets a visitor. “Break his heart, and I’ll drown you in the pier,” he says.

Selina smiles as her hoard of cats purr against the stranger. Maybe they can tell just like Bruce can. Or maybe this is Two-Face doing Harvey a favor. Either way, she doesn’t particularly care.

Selina gives him a once-over and nods. “Likewise.”

Anyway, yes, that is my BruHarvey lore. Hope you enjoyed :)

@bruciemilf this is right up your alley, bestie

1K notes · View notes

angel-of-the-moons · 4 months

Text

Eccentricities

Yandere!Miguel x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, Dead Dove Do Not Eat, DDDNE, Yandere themes, mental manipulation, obsessive behavior, allusions to violence, blackmail, angst, masturbation, Tyler Stone is also a warning lmao

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Yeah, after a million years, it is me! I'm sorry it's been so slow to update, y'all; things have been... *A lot*. Seems like every time I get a one-up something else happens, like my dad being in and out of the hospital for example.... As I stated in my previous post, this story won't be continuing for much longer!

Part 3

Taglist: @vineberries9 @irmiki @autismsupermusicalassassin @obi-mom-kenobi @rin-matsuoka345-blog @loosecan @6thhokageswife @selarus @heyohalie @sapphire-and-ruby @night-spectrum @famouscattale @thespaceinbetweennothing @lazy-idate @toshimoshiko @saharadesertaj @flaps200 @amelialysm @fried-milkfish @zaunsin @darksidescorner @renareyouhere @vide0-vamp @reverieblondie @bunnibitez @kaqua @peterbparkersburger @tojishugetiddies @aisyakirmann @itslariette0 @xxeclipze @oharasfilipinawife @amber-content @ixanne2006 @miguels-aranita @scaleniusrm @stopxplease @blueapplesiren @ruexvn @jadeloverxd @theitchbbbb @realifezompire

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Pt. 4

You had gotten so used to the quiet and privacy of Miguel's mansion that you weren't entirely sure how to handle when the infamous Tyler Stone dropped by for a visit. You certainly didn't enjoy the energy the man put off, nor the looks he would send your way as you "entertained" him until Miguel arrived home; having sent word to Lyla that he arrived.

You noticed that even Lyla seemed uncomfortable with Tyler's presence, her holographic avatar was actually fidgeting when you looked at her. Whatever went on between Miguel and Tyler must not have been very good, judging by how perturbed Lyla was with the older man.

"So... You're the little mouse that my boy Mike has hired, eh?" Tyler grinned, swirling the wine in his glass around as he watched you wipe down and clean the bar. You were well aware of his eyes tracing the entire shape of your ass as you kept your back turned to him.

Yes, having him leer at you wasn't enjoyable... But you preferred it if he looked at your ass instead of your chest or face. Something about that man's gaze made you very uncomfortable; it wasn't at all like with Miguel. You felt safe with him... Even if sometimes he came home from work with the energy of a man ready to catch a criminal charge. You had chalked it all up to the stress of running Alchemax; and now, having his former boss just show up out of the blue while he was gone...

How the hell did Tyler Stone even get in? You assumed only you and Miguel had the passkey to get in. So, how--

Tyler grinned once again, tapping the rim of his glass with one of the gaudy rings on his fingers, catching your attention once again. "Well, sweet-cheeks?"

You grit your teeth and turn, giving him your best sweet smile, "Ah! Right, yes, sir. I'm Miguel's housekeeper."

"And a damn fine bartender..." Tyler hummed, downing the rest of his wine in one swift gulp, licking his lips of the excess as he eyes you up and down once again. "In fact, I'm thinkin' about snatching you out from under my boy... What do you say? Your job will come with all the perks I'm sure Mike holds from ya... A nice fat check..."

His hands constantly groping you...

Your shoulders stiffened, his offer making your blood curdle; "I--"

"She's off-limits, Stone." Miguel's deep voice rang out from the threshold.

You sighed with relief, looking over at him, holding back a shocked gasp. Miguel looked... Disheveled. His face was sweaty, chocolate locks stringing around his forehead, droplets of sweat rolling down his sculpted cheeks.

He straightened his posture as he stalked towards the bar, casting you a soft look before focusing his attention squarely on Tyler, the look in his eyes from behind his red lenses just exuded one word: murder. You almost swore Miguel was about to reach out to snap his neck, until Tyler clasped Miguel's larger hand in his, shaking it with a laugh.

"Ah, don't be so serious, Mike." Tyler laughed like Miguel wasn't currently staring daggers through his skull. "I was just proposing a business deal with your lovely little maid, here!"

"You wouldn't be trying to poach my own employee from me, would you, Stone?" Miguel asked, his voice relaxing to a more soft pitch; his body language still tense but not so aggressive. You could tell there was some definite bad blood between the two men.

Your fingers fiddled nervously with each other at the obviously thick tension in the air, "Miguel..."

"Ah, don't worry, querida." Miguel assured you with a smile, his gaze softening once it landed on you. "Tyler and I need to have a private discussion. Go ahead and take the rest of the day off..."

You nod, swallowing hard. Something was off, but you weren't willing to risk pissing Miguel off in any way, despite how gentle he seemed with you, even in the face of the former CEO of Alchemax. You quickly placed your cleaning supplies in the cabinet and scurried out of the room, closing the doors behind you.

Tyler didn't fail to notice how Miguel tracked your movements from the corners of his eyes as you left, and a shark-like smirk made his lips quirk dangerously. "Oh, now I see why you're not so keen to let me take her from you."

Miguel scowled at the older man, "Why the hell are you here, Stone? Don't bullshit me."

Tyler pressed his hand over his own heart, feigning innocence. "Why, Mike! I would never bullshit you, my boy... Wouldn't dream of it, in fact."

Miguel glowered, his temper already short from dealing with a troublesome Kraven variant that wrought havoc in another universe, plus an "incident" in one of the labs at Alchemax. Tyler's sudden manifestation was testing his patience.

Oh, he had so looked forward to coming home, having a nightly drink with you... maybe work some aggression off. Maybe he could have convinced you to help...

But now, that little fantasy faded in the light that was his sperm donor's annoying fucking mile-long smile. That stupid fucking face that reminded him so much of his own, sometimes he couldn't stand to look in the mirror.

"Don't play coy. Tell me why you're here."

Tyler raised his thick brows, his forehead creasing from the slight wrinkles, there. "Mike--"

"Miguel." The tall man hissed.

"Mike." Tyler corrected, pouring himself another glass of wine. "I've heard you've been a little distracted, lately. A little... scatter-brained. So unlike you. I came to see what was bothering my boy in his personal time--"

"I'm not your fucking child, cabrón." Miguel snarled, breaching Tyler's personal space and standing almost nose-to-nose, "Now stop. Fucking. Pontificating."

He sighed deeply, frowning softly at Miguel's "mood". Oh, how he hated when he got like this. Too uppity for his own good, too ambitious. And after what happened between them... rather dangerous.

Oh, if he only knew how dangerous he was...

"Fine. I checked your financials and saw you had arranged a payroll to a rather cute houseworker." Tyler peered at Miguel almost boredly over the rim of his glass. "As well as some purchases for very small cameras, a number of which happen to be waterproof..."

Miguel felt the hair bristle on the back of his neck. Tyler had.... He had implanted a bypass-shunt program into his personal files? Without Lyla picking up on it? How the fuck did he manage that?

He must have hired someone to do it. He had to have hired someone to do it!

His fists clenched and his jaw tightened microscopically; but Tyler seemed to pick up on it anyway as he casually sipped his wine.

"Oh yes, I've been keeping an eye on you. Can't let my most promising progeny be left to his own devices for very long, now can I?"

"You--"

"How often do you spy on the girl, hm? I imagine watching her undress is rather titillating." He smirked, "She has a very nice body... Almost wasted just being looked at..."

Miguel grabbed Tyler by the collar of his 10,000-credit suit, bunching his fists and lifting him off the stool, sending some of the wine splashing from the glass and onto the bar top; snarling Miguel spits at him. "You stay the fuck away from her, you hear me, Tyler? If you so much as lay a pinky on her, I will--"

Tyler laughed, completely unfazed by Miguel's aggression. "Careful, now, Mike... Wouldn't want some evidence of your little Rapture addiction slipping out and making its way to your pretty little doll, no?"

Miguel snorted, his nostrils flaring as his face heated up. He dropped Tyler back in the stool, turning to stomp away, his fists balled and chest heaving to control his rage, just barely controlling himself enough to avoid burying his talons in the meat of his palms.

Tyler sighed, downing some more of his glass, "We wouldn't want the public finding out that the great Miguel O'Hara was a junkie, now do we?"

His head was abuzz; adrenaline pumping so hard through his veins, he could feel that primal urge to just reach out and snap Tyler's neck. Hiding or disposing of the body would be easy enough, concealing any other evidence would also be a snap. Unfortunately, if anybody knew he was coming over to Miguel's...

Fuck. Tyler also probably had some kind of implant to contact emergency services in the event his heart stops or he's severely injured. Then, Miguel would obvious be a shoe-in for a brand new jumpsuit; not one of his own design.

The multiverse would suffer, another Spider-Man demonized by the public for murdering a man who outwardly appeared somewhat decent...

Then, it felt like a tension wire snapped; realization dawned on Miguel as clear as a sunny summer day.

Tyler was baiting him. He wanted him to snap.

He wouldn't give in to his cheap taunts.

Miguel forced his body to relax, reaching up to slick back a stray strand of hair, and turns to give Tyler a cool smile, "Well... if that were to happen... I would have to tell them where the Rapture came from. How you used it to control me, manipulate me, threaten to kill me."

Miguel felt sick glee at how Tyler's smile instantly fell, and the Hispanic man tipped his head to the side, his smile eerily calm.

"Oh... You thought I didn't have evidence of that? Now, imagine how the public will react when news of me being your illegitimate son--the result of a disgusting affair--gets out?"

"You--you wouldn't." Tyler spat, throwing the wineglass to the ground and shattering it, the red liquid running out to pool around it, soaking into the grout in-between the tiles like a thin, watery pool of blood.

"Your mother would be--"

"I don't give a fuck what Connie deals with. She's had her dose of karma a long time coming... and it's honestly only fitting that I be the one to deliver it." Miguel sneered, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Tyler swallowed, glaring up at his own flesh and blood like it was Hercules fighting the lion. Only... it was up to anyone's guess who would emerge the victor of this bout.

But... He knew that Miguel was much larger, much stronger, faster--younger...

It was an uphill battle and he currently had a bullet wound to his knee.

So, Tyler Stone relented in the seething rage that was Miguel O'Hara. He adjusted his coat from where Miguel has mussed it before, wiping up some of the wine on the counter with his handkerchief before tossing it to the floor indignantly.

"Very well, Mike... I'll leave your little toy alone. But... do be careful enough to take care of your toys in the future. Don't want to forget what happened to your last girlfriend..."

That slight sting didn't hurt as much as he'd hoped, Miguel merely jerking his head to the side, his lip curled in an irritated snarl. "Get out of my house."

As the smaller man began to walk briskly out, he gave Miguel a smirk over his shoulder; "Y'know, my boy... some stuff really is genetic. You don't realize just how much like me you really are."

Miguel scoffed, his body finally relaxing as he turned to clean another one of Tyler Stone's messes, wiping the bar you meticulously cleaned for him clean, tossing the piece of cloth into the nearby trash bin, and turning on the little disc-shaped cleaning bot to clean up the shattered glass and suck up the wine.

"Lyla." Miguel sighed as he took off his sunglasses, his hand shaking as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Hey, boss man." She greeted hesitantly. "Whaddya need?"

"Find out how Tyler got into the system. How he got past you. I'm going to upgrade your code later with stronger firewalls, too." He said, staring at her flickering avatar.

"Yeah, believe me... I don't like him getting past me. It feels... gross. Violating." She shuddered.

Despite changing her programming to see the logic in his words by default, Miguel was emotionally attached to Lyla. For a long time, she was his only true friend. She was there for him after the Rapture incident...

And to now watch as Tyler had essentially brute-forced his own program onto Lyla felt akin to some form of assault on her; one of his greatest creations to date.

But... the shreds of his conscience began to thread together as he remembered you. The cameras, the stalking, having Lyla be hypocritical and spying on your personal business...

"You... You know everything I do is to keep her safe--both of you safe, right, Lyla?" He asked softly, staring down at the little robot as it chirped as its cleaning cycle was finished, returning to its charging dock.

"Well, yeah.... I saw the crime reports... saw how that guy probably would have killed her... and... well." She shoved her hands in her pockets and looked up at him, a brow quirking upwards. "I mean... the cameras are just as good for safety, right? Like how people put baby monitors in their kid's room, or to spy on the nanny. Keeps her from getting hurt even where she should be safe..."

Miguel smiled warmly at her. Yeah... she was programmed to see his logic, but... hearing it made him feel much better.

"Thank you, Lyla. Let me know if anything goes wrong with her personal stuff, alright? I want to make sure Tyler isn't spying on her, too." He turned to begin leaving the room, "I'm going to work this adrenaline off. Make sure my Pequeña Ave is relaxing like I told her to, hm? When you're not busy sorting through the bullshit Tyler pulled, that is."

"Can do, boss!" Lyla chirped happily, giving him a little salute. "Have fun gettin' those reps in!"

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

You couldn't find Miguel in his office, the lounge, his bedroom, the bar, at the pool... the only other place you could think of was his small gym.

He didn't seem to have had a good day at work, and Tyler's presence only seemed to worsen it when he came home. You wondered what exactly happened between them to make their relationship so hostile in the first place...

But, you shoved that curiosity to the side. You decided to try and give Miguel a little pick-me-up. You remembered the story he told you of he and his little brother sneaking off to enjoy their snack of mango and chili salt.

You cut the mango in half, pulled the large seed pod out of the middle, and halfway sliced the halves into little cubes; and finally sprinkled on the chili salt. Afterwards, you placed the snack on a tray with a nice, ice-cold bottle of his favorite sports drink. If he was in the gym, he would definitely need to replenish some electrolytes after working out.

As you walked down the hall, you noticed Lyla's avatar following you. "Hey, Mamacita." She said. "I'd steer clear of the boss. Mr Stone-head reeeeeeeally made him mad."

You wiggled the tray a bit and gave her a smile, "That's why I'm bringing him this, Lyla. Snacks do wonders for mood improvement!"

She tilted her head, taking a moment to respond. "Oh. Right. Good idea, actually..."

You noticed her seemingly distracted nature today, which was almost unheard of for the AI. "You ok?"

"Yeah, going through my files before Miguel puts in a new update for me tonight. Gonna get me a niiiiice makeover, program-wise." She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at you. "I'll be pretty indisposed however; one, from going through my millions of lines of code, and two; he's gotta put me out while he works on me."

You chuckled, "Ah, well I'll leave you to that, then. Hope the update goes well."

Lyla gives you a snarky salute before her avatar disappears as you near the gym. As you reached the arching threshold--no door, you noticed some time ago; he apparently liked a bit of an open floor plan when it came to that--you could hear the sounds of him grunting, huffing, and swearing. It sounded like he was working hard.

You round the bend and open your mouth to announce yourself--until you see why Miguel was really making those sounds.

His back was to you, shirt abandoned on the floor by the dumbbells. He sat in his boxers, pants discarded the same way his shirt had been in favor of working out almost entirely naked.

Or, well.... maybe it started with him working out--until he went to the weight bench and it devolved into something else entirely.

The mirrors lining the opposite wall gave you a perfect view of him despite him sitting with his back to you. His boxers were shoved hastily down to his thick thighs, leaning on one hand as his other one slowly stroked up and down his rigid, leaking cock. Miguel's head was tipped back, his eyes closed in frustrated pleasure, sweat making his body shine as though he had almost appeared oiled-up. His usually well-kept hair was messy, tacking to his forehead and scalp with thick layers of sweat.

The sight immediately sent a throb down to your core; heat roiling and pooling low in your belly and had you biting your lip in equal parts mortification, shame, and arousal.

He grunted, grinding his teeth as he tipped his head down again. You quietly jumped back out of sight as he looked down and opened his eyes, growling as his hand circled the head of his dick before twisting and stroking back down.

"Fuuuuuuck." You heard him sigh. "That's it, bebita... fuck, I'm close."

Your heart hammered in your chest as you imagined who he could possibly be picturing in his mind's eye; what dream woman he probably had at his feet, between his legs, worshipping the thick shaft he stroked in his hand

You pinched your thighs together, feeling your arousal already begin to soak through your panties, threatening to breach the fabric of your pants. Your face heated up, flushing with color as the sounds of him pleasuring himself assaulted your ears in the all-too quiet house. Hell, it felt like he was being so loud, his sounds of self-pleasure drowned out the blood rushing in your ears.

You couldn't contain your curiosity, and peek around the corner again. Miguel had his eyes closed again, a blissful crease prominent on his brow as he bucked his hips in time with his hand.

You watched as he snagged his plush bottom lip between his teeth, his face twitching as his hand jerked faster, the thick precum dripping down his cock and coating his fingers, assisting in the glide as he fucked his own hand, his release imminent.

You squeezed your legs together even tighter, taking care not to jostle the tray in your hands and not make any noise that would give you away.

This was... wrong. You should turn around, and leave your treat to him in the kitchen for him to find on his own. You should...

You swallowed the gasp that wanted to come from you as he muttered something to himself, something you couldn't quite make out--before the thick ropes of his cum spurted from the tip of his cock.

Continuing to stroke and pull, to lengthen his orgasm as long as possible; to ride the high further, Miguel rolled his head back with a gutteral moan, his cum splattering on the floor mats below him, his legs trembling.

As he began to even his breathing out, you turned and as quickly and quietly as possibly rushed back down the hall to avoid being caught--and maybe attend to the pressing matter that stained your panties.

Miguel however--

Miguel knew you were there. He could smell your perfume as you made your way down the hall, hear your soft footsteps and conversation with Lyla.

He grinned as he looked into the mirror, his eye tracking where you had once been peeping in on him. He could smell you the moment you got wet; hear the way your heart thudded in your chest as you spied on him.

He had been edging himself; not intentionally of course, but with how frustrated and angry he was, Miguel had been dancing on the edge of a climax for most of the time. Until he caught your scent, the smell of your wet little cunt filling his senses and making his mind buzz with his budding orgasm before driving him over that peak.

He wondered what you thought of the sight. You were aroused, certainly. You very much liked what you saw. He almost hoped you would walk in, and offer your own soft, sweet little hands to stroke him to relief.

But ah, you were a polite girl. Scurrying away like a frightened little mouse before getting caught and possibly pissing him off.

Miguel heaved a heavy sigh as he grabbed his sweat rag from beside him, wiping at the mess he made of himself. Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but smile.

Maybe getting into your head was going to be easier than he anticipated.

🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷🍷

Part 5: I have no idea Imma be real with y'all

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #tyler stone #spiderman 2099 #lyla spiderman 2099 #atsv lyla #atsv Miguel #yandere! Miguel #yandere! Miguel O'Hara #yandere

179 notes · View notes

misanocircuit · 4 months

Text

Marc Márquez: a very serious kid

Marc Márquez has always left an unforgettable detail in everyone who has had anything to do with him since he was a child. A race, a line, a technical gesture, a quote, a discussion...

"He was very serious. Now I see him and it feels like someone else, with so much spree, because as a child he was very introverted", tells Guim Roda, former rider and one of the architects of Marc leaving enduro and jumping into road racing [...].

"He used to travel in a caravan, like if it was a motorhome, a very old one. The image inspired tenderness with the amount of talent he showed", underlines Jordi Rojas, boss of Marc's first team, Procurve.

"He was 8, and there are many kids with talent at that age, but his intelligence was different, special", says Jordi. It's about, tells Roda, the way in which Marc dealt with things, the teachings and the improvement process. How to go faster.

"A lot of times a kid goes faster in a part of the circuit because it was asked by his father, to make him happy. But not Marc. He completely ignored his father's suggestions and wanted to understand on his own what to do to go faster and why it happened."

"He asked questions, he understood and improved his lap times". That peculiarity is one of the remains which have stayed around him.

"He was mature, he amazed you, I was impressed by his ability to perceive speed and not fearing falling, to try things, to imagine them before knowing how to try them and do them", says Roda.

Jordi, who helped him alongside his brother Josep [...], recognises that Marc learned [from them], but they also learned from him. "You could explain him few things because on track he did special things. But it was also how he talked at that age, the way to treat things, to prepare the race, to handle the pressure. And even better at 9 years old".

"I don't know whether he is gifted or not, but the spatial ability, the one to perceive his surroundings at high speed, the coldness at the part where others have fear and the adrenaline rush, he has it. Also his brother Àlex, he's different, but he has it", he explains.

Indeed, at that age, the hardest thing for Marc's bosses to let him understand was to learn how to lose, that you can't always win. "Obviously he cried when he lost, always. That part was tough for us, and even more so with his talent", says Roda.

"But he didn't look very high, he didn't worry himself setting goals or for not reaching the next step".

They stayed with him for three years and a half (from Open RACC 50 to CEV) and they also taught him how to be tidy. "How to clean his boots, to tidy up the material, to be careful. He was a very nice and polite kid, and he did it".

Marc had an agreement with his team to keep enjoying their motorbike and their assistance: he had to approve everything to keep racing. And he got really good grades.

#motogp #marc marquez #mm93 #motorsports #he needs to be studied #alex marquez #am73 #my translation #article

183 notes · View notes

lokideservesahug · 5 months

Text

Obsessed In Love

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Pairing: Yandere!Checo Pérez x gn!reader

(Slight) Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Warnings: Yandre, obsession, dark themes ofc (all kinda subtle). Badly translated Spanish

Request: Could you do yandere! Checo Perez with male reader? 👀

Notes: I'm not quite sure how to approach male readers just yet so I tried to do a gn reader instead. Pls let me know if you want something different though. This is the first time I've tried tow rite anything like this so feedback is greatly appreciated. Also if anyone wants a second part then pls let me know

Summary: You were very happy with your job- personal assistant for Sergio Pérez. Yet unbeknownst to you, being Checo's personal assistant isn't enough for him.

Part 2

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

You hadn't been at Red Bull Racing for long but from what you've experienced so far, it has been amazing. You came in at the start of the 2024 season as Sergio Pérez's personal assistant and its just great. All of the crew were lively and welcoming to you, especially Checo. You've been following F1 for a long time now (hence how you found out about the hardly advertised job opening) and have always admired Checo and his racecraft so it was a huge honour to work alongside him. Unsurprisingly, media days are the least strenuous for the drivers but the most difficult for the PR/media team and as someone who worked under the former but worked directly alongside a driver, you had a nice balance of stress.

You scan your paddock pass and at the familiar beeps, you start your trek to Red Bull hospitality. You decided to arrive here early today so you can get a head start on the weekend and so you can even hang around with those you don't often get time to, like the engineers etc. You walk over to your workspace and get our your ipad with the schedule for today. Looks like you'll be following Checo around from 10-12 whilst he does miscellaneous activities and jobs first thing. You check the clock next to you. 8:35. You still have a good hour and a quarter until you need to start worrying about your 'boss' coming in.

You dive into your work and begin checking emails and planning entirely for the next few races. You're engrossed in your work for what feels like hours when you hear a gentle knock on the door. "Come in." You say, whilst placing the ipad on the desk and standing up. "Oh! Checo, I must have lost track of time." You glance at the clock. 8:57. Oh, that's odd. "Good morning cariño" You smile at his warm greeting. "Morning Checo, it isn't like you to be this early. What's the occasion?" For a split second you could have sworn that he looked like he was about to protest your words but swiftly caught himself.

"I uh- just thought I'd get an early start." He gave you a half smile and you smiled at his words. "Well Mr early start, I don't think there's much to do. You'd probably be most helpful speaking to some mechanics about any further adjustments but aside from that. But you can do anything I suppose" You turn to look at him after you finish your pacing only to find him sat down on a seat in the corner of your 'office'. You go to ask him what he's doing but he leans backspace, crosses his legs and speaks before you can get any words out. The corner of his lips turn up at the tilt of his head. "What? I thought you said I could do anything?" His half sarcastic response leaves you speechless. "You won't even know I'm here querida. Unless you ask for help which I'll be happy to give." You feel your cheeks warm slightly at his words and sit down at your desk and continue as you were when he came in.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo was really quite helpful and by the time you had finished all you planned for the morning and much more, it was 10 o'clock.

You tidy up the miscellaneous work that manged to scatter across your desk and turn to the Mexican stood to your side. "Thank you for your help." He smiles at your words and looks at the clock behind you. "No worry querida. Any time" You feel yourself blush slightly at his words and so you look down and step away from the desk. You point out the time and ask if you should begin your duties. "You go ahead cariño, I just need to do something." Not thinking much of his words (and assuming he probably had to tie his shoe laces or send a text) you leave the door, parting with a soft "See you in the foyer in a minute."

You sit down on a plush leather sofa by the door waiting for Sergio's return to do your first job of the day. Suddenly, the door quietly opens and you hear the distant shouts of fans and the ever moving ambience of a Formula 1 race track. You turn to look at the door, already knowing who the disruptor of your momentary peace is. "Morning Max." The Dutch man nods at you and walks in your direction to place a clearly empty red bull can in the bin.

He sits down to your left and stretches out. "So, what media duties do you have today?" Max hums in thought and furrows his brows at your question. "Uhm- I think I have to film one of those what's in the box videos and then some looking at the car, meeting a few fans and then the video with Checo at the end of the day." You hum in acknowledgement at Max's words. The Red Bull YouTube video at the end of the day should be quite nice. Unsurprisingly, it features him and Checo but also Daniel and Yuki. You continue chatting, waiting for Checo until the Mexican comes through the door. You stand to greet Checo and begin walking out if the door to begin your day. He smiles at your greetings and unbeknownst to you, gives Max a harsh glare at the proximity of the two of you when he first entered.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The day seemed to breeze by and by the time it came to the last media duty, you were shocked at how late it already was. You stand to the side under a canopy, watching as the RB (both Red Bull and VCARB) drivers mess around with each other. The sight of Checo and Max having a small, futile squabble over who gets to drive however, makes you laugh softly. You turn to look at the other drivers as Checo (not that you know) turns to give you a longing glance for the millionth time today. The cameraman calls for a small break before the next segment if the video will be filmed and the drivers all let out a collective sigh of relief.

You walk to the corner of the gazebo and fetch a chilled red bull from the cooler box for Checo. You wait at the edge of the canopy, still in the shade, for Checo to give the now slightly warmer drink to him. However instead if the regular presence of a certain Pérez to your side, you instead find a short Japanese man. "Hi Yuki." The pilot grins at your words and waves slightly. "Hello Y/N, how are you today?" You continue to exchange pleasantries with the man ; you've become more acquainted recently due to him often approaching you and staying for long chats.

"So how is tha-" Yuki doenst get to finish that thought as a gruff sounding Checo cuts across him, saying your name. You turn to him and give him a small smile whilst sticking your red bull filled hand out. "Sorry it's slightly warm, I got it out a little bit ago when you stopped filming." You look from the thawed ice in the shape of your fingers to Checo's face only to find his lips pulled together in a tight line and was he glaring at something? Before you can ask what's wrong, he meets your eyes and his gaze softens.

"Thank you querida." The cameraman calls to the drivers to return to in front of the lens. Checo lingers for as long as he can at your side until you have to jokingly nudge him in the direction of the camera before he leaves with a breathy laugh.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Despite your early arrival, you get back to your office fairly late. You're one of the last people left in the red bull hospitality (aside from a few mechanics of course but they are just all superhuman). You just want to get home and collapse in your bed by the time you push your office door open but fortunately, you know that you just need to grab a few things and you'll be done for the day.

You place the ipad in the overnight charging dock (a clever little timed thing as to not waste excess energy) and grab your handbag from the floor where it lies. But your gaze catches on a red bull in the middle of the desk. Now it's not surprising in the slightest to see cans everywhere when you work for the big Asutrain company. However, this can is unlike one you've ever seen before. It's almost, glittery? You're curious as to what it is and of course where it came from.

Yet you chalk it up to it maybe being a very nice staff member or maybe even someone that has noticed you in the paddock (a certain Japanese man comes to mind before your mind shoos that away). However, you decide to try a bit of the drink. Heck you'll need at least some caffeine to make it home. You hear the ever satisfying crunch of the ring pull and when you put it to your lips it tastes divine. You almost moan at the sensation of a rich, almost Berry like taste, unlike anything you've ever tried before. You feel like you need to sit down to fully appreciate the flavour.

Wait. No. You feel like you need to sit down regardless. You feel a slight pressure in your head that you convince yourself that you're just imagining. You take another sip of the drink to try and subside the feeling. You place the half full can on your desk and go to walk rewards the door. But the door begins to look slightly fuzzy. Before you even try to make sense of what's happening, you suddenly feel yourself begin to grow weightless and fall backward.

You expect to hear a thump and be met with the hard, carpeted floor. However, you instead find yourself met with something warm and soft. Your mind , which is growing ever hazier, tries to make your head look up but you find yourself frozen, unable to move. At your attempts at mobility your hear a quiet "shhh." You groan in response trying to understand who the person (cradling you?) Is. "Shhh querida. You're safe with me. Just relax." And that's all it takes for you to drift into unconsciousness.

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Please let me know if anyone would be interested in a second part!

Thank you for reading. As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.

Taglist (irdk if this is anyone's thing so sorry if it's not). @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #checo perez x reader #sergio checo pérez #checo perez #sergio pérez x reader #sergio perez x reader #sergio perez #checo perez x gn!reader #sergio perez x gn!reader #yandere #tw yandere #yandere sergio pérez #yandere checo #ldah's writing

155 notes · View notes

nonotnolan · 7 months

Text

The Ends Justify The Means

As always, this February story is dedicated to my valentine, @mergeman

"Okay, but did we have to add him to the Hivemind?" Jordan said, looking at his unconscious boss with a look of resigned disappointment. "If I end up with an old man's vocabulary because of him, I'm gonna be so upset. This body looks too good to sound like a geezer." He tossed his shirt to the ground and gave me a flex. "See what I mean?"

I couldn't help but roll my eyes. Some humans stress-tested my 40% Free Will rule, and Jordan was definitely one of them. "One, bringing him into the Collective is the only way to bend his authority to our will. Two, the symbiote doesn't change our speech, it just enhances our knowledge. And three, the eventual goal is to overtake most of humanity anyway. We were gonna have to add Shaun sooner or later."

Jordan nodded, though I doubted he was paying any attention me. He was one of the part-time workers I had converted within the past two hours, and so his symbiote half was still checking out his new body. I can't blame it, I suppose.

I wasn't sure this plan was even going to work, so I was glad we managed to succeed. Capturing the part-time college students who worked here had been easy-- a bit of flirting from a tempting body, a kiss to introduce the symbiote, rinse and repeat. Shaun had been much more difficult. We had to resort to ambushing him in the bathroom where there we no cameras. Jordan's strength held him in place while I pried open his jaw to insert the new symbiote. It was far from elegant-- Shaun was stronger than he looked-- but at least it worked.

Shaun finally opened his eyes, and looked at me with a wry grin. "Alright, sir. I know we have a lot to talk about, but let's retreat somewhere else, shall we? It's cramped in here, and I think Jordan is a few moments away from whipping his dick out."

"You're not wrong," I said, shaking my head. "We should probably leave him to it. If nothing else, it will be nice to talk things over someplace a bit... less pungent. I assume you know what is going to be expected of you?"

"I do," Shaun says, crossing his arms. "Although I was hoping to talk to you about that one. I scheduled Darren to work Valentine's Day because I haven't had that day off for the past three years. This body's wife is threatening to make life miserable if I still have to work the holiday despite my recent promotion. I have a proposal for you."

I smiled at the audacity of this symbiote. Clearly its host body had a lot of confidence.

"Darren will still get the day off, of course," Shaun said. "But instead of working the day myself, I'll just tell Jenn that she's going to have to handle the shift solo. We don't need two store managers tomorrow night-- no one goes furniture shopping on Valentine's."

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

"You'll never guess what happened today!" Darren said, greeting me when I arrived home. He and I had been dating for a few weeks now, ever since I was granted control over this host body. Unlike the symbiotes who were mostly extensions of my mind and my personality, I had full control and full autonomy over my decisions. Coming out of the closet was one of the first changes I made to this host's former life.

"Your store is actually closing for a holiday?" I guessed, walking up to him and hugging him from behind. I held him close, feeling the heat of his body against my borrowed chest. Humans were very big on physical contact, and it was a ritual I was more than happy to join.

Darren chuckled as he turned around for a quick kiss. "Okay, so it wasn't a miracle. But it was still pretty crazy! Shaun texted me, and approved my vacation time for tomorrow. Can you believe that? I've never known him to change his mind like that before."

I just smiled at him. "Maybe your District Manager yelled at him about it? You did submit that request a few months ago." As much as I hated feeding white lies and omitted facts to my boyfriend, I couldn't justify telling him my full truth this early in the relationship. Anyway, the only way I'd be filling him with a symbiote would be if we broke up and he posed a risk to my secret. I wanted a relationship with an equal, not a masturbatory fling with a clone of myself. Anyway, what was the phrase? The ends justify the means.

"Well, maybe." He paused a few minutes to consider this possibility before shrugging his shoulders. "I don't know, and I'm not going to question it. I'm just glad you kept those dinner reservations! I'm looking forward to tomorrow's date!" He smiled, and I could feel my heart melting. I would do anything in my power to make him happy.

#male body merge #male possession #alien possession #hivemind #gay male story #queer romance

199 notes · View notes

fairytsuk1 · 2 years

Text

cupid's arrow | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: izuku midoriya x reader

words: 8.3k

prompt: "getting set up by their lovely grandmas, who always go to the same café and gush about their grandkids"

warnings: teasing game, public sex, quickie, protected sex, tit play, praise kink, missionary position, soft dom!midoriya

The retirement home was an amalgamation of both good and evil. It had the finest foods for delicate denture havers and was home to some of life’s more depressing thought processes. You preferred being able to drive over the speed limit as the city air lashed at your face; being young and carefree was much more appealing. However, this couldn’t be your reality anymore as you knew your grandmother needed you more than ever. Things were about to change. You’d be moving onto bigger steps in your life! Finding a partner, making a home together, advancing in your career…

Before leaving for the retirement home, you hoped you’d be walking out of there glimmering with adjusting to adulthood. No games or silly adventures, a part of you lit up at the idea of this summer excursion changing your life. You really, really hoped it would.

You smooth your tennis skirt over your thighs, ankles crossing and a warm smile gracing your features when your grandmother waltz in with house slippers and an old tea set. The smell of earthy leaves wafts into your nose, and you already know she’s made two steaming cups of green tea before she pours it.

“Nana, you know you don’t have to make anything when I visit,” you’d figured she’d stop making cookies past your twelfth birthday, but she clearly planned to wave you off every single time.

Snarkily, your grandmother rolls her eyes and takes a slurping sip of her tea.

“It’s not about that. It’s about keeping ancient traditions! We’re family, and that means grandmothers make their grandchildren tea!”

She nods, pleased with herself, and her eyes are closed as she savors the grass notes, the feeling of toastiness, and the mild sweetness. Your eyebrows twitch, and you miss how she does the same once she’s placed her cup back down.

“Mhm, it’s very good, did you taste the grass?” you swallow and nod, “yes, me too. So… Have you found a boyfriend yet?”

You’re in the process of drinking more tea but her comment startles you; the cup is hastily set back on the coffee table and leaving a liquid trail in its wake. Practically spitting out your tea, you’re quick to wipe your mouth with a napkin and set the record straight.

“Huh?! Where is that coming from? …I don’t, but why are you asking, nana?”

She’s got this unreadable look on her face. Then, she’s giving you this cheeky grin and sighing wistfully as if thinking of a past lover. You’re curling your fingers into your palms, nearly shaking in anticipation as her hands rub together sneakily.

“It’s my friend’s grandson! You know me. Always talking, but if I were you, I’d snatch him right up! He’s strong, and he’s got bright green eyes! They’d compliment yours so well,” and she’s scooting forward in her seat, “you will like him! He’s a very nice boy.”

Nana’s been gossiping again. You’re relieved she wasn’t trying to reconnect you and former lovers (an activity that had proven to be unsuccessful, twice.) Still, the idea of her pitching you to random strangers like an ATM card makes your face twist in an attempt to tell her how you really feel.

“I-I don’t know, nana. I’m not even sure if I’m looking for anything right now,” and you were right.

A relationship seemed like a huge step, and this was supposed to be your summer “boss up” phase. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you had trust in your grandma’s romantic instincts for matchmaking either. A wrinkled hand covers yours, and your nana is beaming with her body leaned towards you.

“Tell you what, he will be here for breakfast tomorrow morning. You don’t have to do much, but you should see him in person! Get to know him a little.”

You let the offer hang in the air for a moment before shrugging.

“...I guess I can do that. I don’t want this to become an everyday thing, though! I came here to spend time with you, nana. Not with some guy!”

Nana had already returned to sipping her tea and nodded before licking her lips.

“Of course, dear. However, if you like this Midoriya as much as I think you will, you’ll end up regretting saying that!”

You take a sip, and two pairs of eyebrows raise. You doubted it. This “Midoriya” person was probably some nerdy guy that didn’t know how to talk to girls. It didn’t matter anyways, so on that fateful day you brushed mascara on thick lashes and made sure your lips looked as plump as ever in your pink lip gloss. You weren’t trying to impress anyone, not at all!

Something in your gut had just told you to make an effort, but it was hard to tell whether this gut feeling was good or bad.

The situation had proven that you needed to take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror. He wasn’t ugly, no. He was anything but. He was so handsome that as you and your grandmother circled the table to sit, your foot caught on the leg of the table. Practically every brain cell had been focused on the promise of muscles under his white button-up plus the extra show of solid, veiny forearms. He was hot.

“This is my friend, Kotoe! And this is her grandson, Izuku Midoriya! He’s the one I brought up to you last night,” and for the first time, you’re aware of how red Midoriya looks; maybe he was thinking the same things about you.

Kotoe grins widely, and the wave crashes on you and Midoriya because the embarrassment of the situation keeps getting worse. First, the table. Then, he’s watching you as you settle yourself across from him. This feels more like you’re being judged than trying to link up with someone.

“You remember her, right? I showed you that picture of her at that one band performance.”

Your pride is fatally wounded, but you’re even more aghast that one of the cutest boys you’ve ever seen is actually seeing you for the second time. The idea that Midoriya’s first impression was of you with braces and frizzy hair left you feeling like you could melt into your seat effortlessly.

Nana guiltily peruses the menu, but you know there’s no one else that has that picture. You’d tried to erase every copy of it but… she had her ways.

“Nana.”

She grins sheepishly while fluffing her curls, “it’s not my fault your mother only sends me photos when she feels like it. You look cute in the photo!”

If you didn’t stop her now, maybe nothing could. Along with this setting not seeming like the right time to discuss the ins and outs of your family relationships, you turn to Midoriya and smile warmly.

“Right. Well, Midoriya, it’s nice to meet you. You’re lucky you were spared from the dreaded band photo. I’m jealous,” with a hair flip for good measure.

She’s so cute, he thinks.

“If only you could have the same fate.”

It’s so boyish, so ridiculous, and it makes your heart-beat rabbit fast because it’s not fair that his voice is gentle yet had an edge to it. His smile and even the licking of lips were uncalled for. He was charming you way too easily. How long had you two been sitting here again?

He’s tuning you like a fiddle to his chosen song, and you play beautifully. You need fresh air, so your cup of water is gulped down to curb the romantic-tension fever rising inside you.

Your grandmother and Kotoe fall into conversation like it’s natural. Midoriya keeps taking tentative glances at you but looking away before something productive happens, so you begin to copy him; now you just feel like you’re in the hall of mirrors.

“So, Midoriya… Do you go to university?”

“I-I do! I’m an archaeology major with a minor in history! It’s a lot of nerdy stuff, but it’s more interesting than calculus!”

His eyes sparkle at the topic, and the passion leaking through his words is evident. It’s cute, and your cheeks lift without thinking about it. He’s infectious, and in a bad way.

The type of infection where every glance feels like slow motion, and your brain skips ahead to when his mouth is on yours, and his hands are tugging, pulling, squeezing…

“That’s really cool! I’ve never heard of someone majoring in something like that! I’m doing public administration; it’s like political science but not really.”

Midoriya can’t wait to dig his hands into you and bury his cock deep inside you, but he can’t think about that right now. He mentally files away the memories of your shy looks so he can wrap a fist around himself in the shower later as he thinks of ruining your tight little pussy.

“No, yeah, that’s brave stuff to do! That can be in any sector, right? Public, private, and all of that.”

Both brains come to rest on the same wavelength as the same thought swirls in and out of two opposite gender heads.

I wanna fuck you.

“Yeah! Yeah, it can be,” your legs cross to lessen the pulsing between your legs.

“I kind of get it! History is so broad that it throws people off a bit,” Midoriya presses a palm to his aching cock as discreetly as possible.

The two of you try to avoid letting your need spill over past inappropriate boundaries. You both don’t realize that notion was abandoned the second first eye contact was made. Lunch passes by quickly, and you’re thankful. That was a bit too tense, and your male counterpart seems to be exhausted from the mental energy of ignoring something so potent. So heady.

“That nasty little Annie is going to supervise my cycling class, so I’m going to the pool today! You should come with me; you’ll never believe what she did the other day when I was struggling with my nightgown….”

Kotoe leads your four person group to the elevators, but your nana tells her she likes to walk after breakfast, so you mourn the loss of Midoriya as nonchalantly as possible. A big ego was annoying, and he didn’t need to know that you were dying to see under his pants. Honestly, even just getting to talk alone would be nice.

“Well, Kotoe, I’ll meet you back at the pool after my nap.”

Your grandmother silently gives you a look that tells you everything you need to know about the pool situation.

Get your swimsuit!

It’s not too hot out that when you take a step the ground pierces your foot with its heat. The sun is shining just enough to cast a warm, soft glow on honeyed skin; it’s making you look too good, you feared. What if Midoriya was a nervous guy? Your ego shoots to the sky as you secure your jewelry and make your way to the pool with your nana.

Midoriya thought he might’ve had you beat, that maybe he’d get the edge in the game you two were playing where you’d feel more flushed than him. He certainly played a good hand, muscles rippling in black swim shorts highlighting his lean body. Freckles dotted his skin, and he felt embarrassed at ogling himself in the mirror.

“Kotoeee! I love your bathing suit; where’d you get the damn thing?!”

Nana runs off quickly, having debriefed you in the elevator that she intended to leave you and Midoriya “to it.” You’d vehemently denied the allegations of something like this happening, but there was a decent chance with how you and him were looking at each other that her suspicions were correct.

Your stuff is set by the chatty old ladies, and Midoriya takes the time to sidle up close to you. Squinting at him, he really does look good up close.

“Hi.”

“Hey. Do you want to swim with me?”

“What are we, five?”

He laughs lightly, shrugging and rubbing at the nape of his neck.

“Well, it’s not like there’s anything else to do! Not here, anyways,” and you feel your cheek twitch with the urge to smile.

He’s… saucy. And maybe you like it, a lot.

“If you say it like that, you can admit that no other girls wanna swim with you,” and he scoffs playfully at you before standing up, “but sure, I’ll hop in for a bit.”

The two of you make your way to the water. Midoriya gets in first, and he extends an arm to help you in like a proper gentleman.

“Are you always this kind?”

“I’m just on my best behavior,” and he grins like a shark.

Water swishes around you two, droplets hiding each other’s best features like a love potion. The grannies are still talking, and there are splashes from other patrons using the facility. Nothing can happen now, even if you want to jump his bones badly.

“I think the class starts soon, the water weights one?”

“What even is that class? What’s the point?”

Midoriya circles like you’re dancing, so you bat your eyes lashes and take a thumb to your lip. It makes him laugh, and you suddenly feel yourself dropping the act.

“No, no, I like it! And it’s, uhm, they lift weights to strengthen their bones! But it’s easier on their joints. My Obaasan also likes getting some fresh air,” he flicks his hair back, and the water rolls down his skin seamlessly, “maybe we could do something on our own.”

Raunchy daydreams smack you in the face; he could fuck you here. He could bend you over the water edge, eat your pussy and make you cream right in the pool chair just feet away! Maybe he’s sucking on your clit, pulling on your nipple, or maybe he’d rock his cock deep into you just because you begged for it!

“Yeah,” his eyes trace the soft edges of your curves, and you feel so high on feeling desired, “where could we go?”

Your question is interrupted with a loud, unfortunate, shrieky exclaim of, “Midoriya!” that shakes both you and the man in question enough to cause ripples in the water. Two heads turn towards the pair of grannies, now suited up in swimsuits that go to their knobby knees, plus bulky goggles.

“Go check for some floaties in the back room, please! I might really need them this time!”

Midoriya doesn’t even make a face but nods in understanding before turning guiltily to you, “...I guess I’ll be right back?”

This seems like a set-up. Back room? For floaties? Midoriya doesn’t seem to have picked up that this is the moment, but you have.

“Well, why don’t I just come with you?”

The grandmothers have gone back to their own personal conversation (gossiping), so you assume it’s okay. Midoriya gives a tentative look to Kotoe, before looking you back in your eyes and nodding. Ah, now he gets it.

You both are giddy as soaking wet bodies slip out of the pool easily and pad like excited puppies down to the deserted storage closet. Midoriya lets you duck in first, flip-flops clacking against the pavement as you flick on the dim lights and wait for the show to begin. Then, the green-haired boy eagerly locks the door and turns to look at you with lustful eyes.

“So!”

“You know, this is extremely typical, right?”

He grows closer as if wanting to slowly overpower you with every step. You remain firm in your pink flip-flops.

“Even if it is typical, I can’t help but feel lucky,” and he oozes attractiveness.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. How often do you get to kiss a pretty girl?”

Maybe it’s the sparkle in his eyes or how he bounces on the balls of his feet.

“Mmph!—”

The two of you crash into each other, your hands flying to tangle in his unique tresses, and you can almost hear the “SMOOCH!” sound as the two of you have your first heated kiss; breaking the ice-cold layer of tension. The kiss was groundbreaking, earth-shattering, and your foreheads dipped and pressed together as you heaved for breaths.

Your first kiss with him.

It’s practically perfect, and it's ending could be considered admirable because it was so cliche. Someone had called out towards the storage closet, and the two of you ran out of there like the guilty criminals you were. The thrill kept you moving like a wild animal. You loved it; the two of you loved it.

That memory didn’t leave you, not when you parted ways or thought about keeping your lips as they were so you wouldn’t forget that you’d kissed him. Maybe you were too into a fling, a fleeting romance, but having someone you could call yours felt fulfilling. Whatever happened to moving on with life?

No, you’d changed your mind. Who cared about doing career things in an old folks home? You could do that any time, good dick doesn’t always come around.

Adrenaline was still thrumming in your veins as you kept going about your day as if the feeling of his soft lips on yours wasn’t being replayed every ten seconds; it was so perfectly taboo and hot. You wondered if he was thinking the same things, maybe taking a hand and palming his half-chub in his swim shorts because he just couldn’t hold back and wait anymore.

The two of you shared looks for the rest of the swim class as you leisurely tanned your golden skin while Midoriya lounged around (fetching equipment as needed.) His new “job” grew quickly on you, the ability to get an eyeful of strained muscles and bulging thighs that jogged ’round and ’round the pool like a carousel felt like a reward.

Your grandmother draws you close with a hand motion, bony fingers clasped to the ledge as you draw closer, “oh good, you heard me! Could you bring me my bag? I left it in the locker room!”

“Sure thing, I’ll only be a sec!”

Quickly, you head towards the women’s locker room and spot the flowered print pool bag. You snatch it up and make your way back, feet slowing their speed, when you see an unfamiliar face sticking out like a sore thumb.

She was pretty, blonde, with a thin neck that made you envy her allure from where you stood. Not only that, but definitely flirting with a resting Midoriya.

“Here, nana…”

“Thank you! What are you looking at—” your grandmother makes the same frowning expression as you, “oh, right. She’s getting in between you and your future husband, you know! She just waltzed on over like she owned the place, and he fell for it, hook, line, and sinker! Don’t tell Kotoe, but you ought to…”

Her rambling goes muffled and indiscernible, and you feel your hand clench at your side. You stormed over to the spot without even considering the consequences and grinned widely. She gives you a skeptical eye before batting curled lashes towards Midoriya.

“So, what were you saying about working out together?”

Nervous green eyes flick to yours, gauging your level of emotion from the deep recesses of your eyes. Midoriya can’t see anything. In fact, it’s more like you’re looking through him as he sputters his way through an excuse of being “really busy, so maybe we should wait till we make actual plans!”

He was good, and maybe it was the fact he was the first attractive boy you’d seen in the several weeks of being with your grandmother. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t been properly fucked in a minute, so you were a loose screw about to make everything fall apart.

‘I see,” and you shrug at him, “we should wait till we make actual plans too! You know, just so we can be sure.”

Then, you prissily walk off, determined to not seem shaken by the seeming turn of events being that IZUKU MIDORIYA was a man-whore, one hundred percent. He just wanted to rile you up, and two could most certainly play at that game. You’d just have to show him what he was missing out on, all because he wasn’t too sure he wanted you. You’d make him sure.

He’d kissed you for god’s sake! You fumed alone in the elevator, grumbling things no one would ever hear.

The plan had worked spectacularly. There was no way Midoriya was actually going to go for the blonde that seemed eager to be alone with him now that the swimming class was over. Sure, he’d smooth-talked her, but it was all for you. He could tell that there was something you were hiding from him in all your shy looks and glossy lips.

“Was that your girlfriend? She looked rude,” Ayaka grinned wildly, “she’s not right?”

“It doesn’t really matter what she is,” and he stands gingerly, all shy and nervous, “I-I have to go now!”

Ayaka tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and her arms push her breasts up obscenely.

“You really gotta go?”

The awkwardness is back, and it seemed that the boy could only be flirty when it came to you. Now, he was a fish out of water flopping around on the deck.

“Yup! I’ll see you later, or whatever!”

He’d finally figured it out, aside from the awkwardness of forcing jealousy within you. You were a brat! He couldn’t wait to see how this developed, the greedy part of him hoping you’d make another move because he wanted to see you again. Badly.

“...Bye!”

You didn’t leave his mind, and he wondered what the two of you could do together. Did you like ice cream? Games? Yeah, sometimes he thought with his dick but other times… Well, you were the exact type of girl he’d love to take out.

He had no idea that as part of your newly created plan… you planned to kiss Hitoshi Shinsou right in front of him.

Shinsou was calm, collected, and rarely ever smiled. You hadn’t been lying when you’d said that boys like Midoriya were few and far between, so you’d already recognized potential suitors (meaning you’d told your best friends, in ranked form, the cutest boys at the UA Retirement Home.)

You’d decided Shinsou was one of the cuter ones considering you didn’t see him all the time. His face was pleasant to look at whenever you saw him working his shift, and he was plopped at the desk today with no one around… it seemed like today would be the day.

You and Midoriya hadn’t spoken in two days since you last saw him potentially entertaining the advances of some blonde girl. You weren’t stupid, after the heat of the moment and going over the situation one more time, it was clear. He wanted to tease you, make you feel the fire burning inside you grow hotter and hotter.

“Hey, Shinsou!”

It was time to get him back in a major way. You push your torso an inch or two across the desk to smile at the purple-haired boy and let your head fall to the side. It was unclear whether or not it was actually having an effect, but you trekked along.

“Morning, what are you doing here?”

He already looks closed off, and you’re hoping he doesn’t hate you by the end of this.

“I just wanted to say hi! A girl can’t just hang out by the front desk?”

“No, actually,” his finger taps a sticker on the glass barrier between you, an obnoxious sticker reading “NO LOITERING” sitting there to mock you, “there is. See?”

…

“Oh! Well, I mean, well,” you look around frantically, the heat of embarrassment crippling you to where you stood.

“Look, if you just tell me, then maybe I can–” and the two of you are yelping as you push past the swinging door that separates Shinsou from other residents, “what the hell?! What are you doing?”

It suddenly feels like a huge mistake, and if you could swallow your anxieties, maybe this would’ve gone over easier. The position you two are in now, it feels warm. Steamy. His eye bags are less prominent when he’s slouched beneath you in his desk chair. Slender legs manspreading, and you could easily settle yourself on top of him if you felt like getting it on from behind the front desk.

“I just wanted… to see what it all looks like from behind here! Very, very nice. Did your boss get you that mug?”

“You need to leave,” and he sighs, but every action is gentle as he takes your arm, “what’s making you act so weird?”

Had anyone else been watching, they would have assumed the two of you were up to pure shenanigans. Midoriya yawns, eyes sleepy from his daytime nap as he trods towards the eating hall to peruse the options.

Midoriya hoped you weren’t genuinely upset about anything. Considering your demeanor and attitude, it seemed like something you would’ve liked, would’ve wanted. Maybe he went too far; it agonized him to think about it.

“Please, Shinsou! Don’t kick me out,” you’re grappling with his limbs, and you try to stand firmly, “you can’t treat a guest like this! I’ll make a scene!”

“You caused the scene!”

The commotion is growing louder, making the green-haired boy’s head tilt because the voices sound too familiar. His feet turn right, heading towards the hall's entrance, and it’s unmistakable that you had been the feminine voice whining.

“I know, but I had to do something!”

“Do what?”

Midoriya barely rounds the corner when you bend over, ass sticking up in the air, and plant a firm kiss on Shinsou’s lips. He doesn’t move but lets a soft groan slip as your hands trace the tops of his shoulders.

You’re crazy, he realizes. Just from watching you kiss Shinsou, he assumes he’s probably crazy, too, because it does nothing but make his cock throb. The two of you pull away, and you’re wiping your lips with the back of your hand. He wishes he could spy on what you were saying to him, using all your best tantalizing moves to keep Shinsou in a partial state of shock; you’re taking small steps back past the swinging door and nodding reassuringly.

“I’ll see you later, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah. I’ll see you…?”

“Uh-huh! Bye!”

Midoriya had ducked behind a wall, but your footsteps were growing closer and closer. Then, you’re a blur past him, but he can make out your face. It’s the face of sadism, of one that grins while you walk past him because you know that he knows you have the taste of Shinsou on your tongue and that you’re the one who gave him the bulge in his sweatpants.

He quickly grabs onto your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

“Yes?”

“You know what you’re doing, right? Do you really wanna play this game?”

“What game?”

This will end with him fucking the shit out of you, and you know it. Midoriya feels his heart swell with dominance, pulling you closer so your hand can cup his cock in his shorts. He manually curls your fingers around his length, small puffs of air coming out of him as you submissively run your palm over the salacious hardness under his sweatpants.

“I like when you touch me like that! Reminds me that even though you might go and kiss other guys….”

His hand brushes against your hip, thumb dipping just under your shorts and panties to feel the forbidden skin you hid from him.

“I just know that under these panties, you’re soaking.”

You feel relief that he doesn’t try to check because you know your hole is dripping and staining your cute pair of panties.

“I…”

Midoriya shushes you, an adorable smile on display as he firmly squeezes your ass cheek. He grunts as you put more pressure on his dick before taking your hand and squeezing it.

“Don’t talk. I just want you to think, cutie,” and he gets impossibly closer.

“Do you really think you’ll win?”

You don’t think you’ll win at all, and that’s the fun in it.

Midoriya sighs, feeling your hand stroke him over the fabric before breathing out and pulling away. He kisses your cheek, pointedly avoiding your lips.

“I’ll see you later.”

You’re left as shocked as Shinsou was.

“Have you noticed how often the kids have been hanging out together? I knew it, Kotoe. I knew they’d hit it off,” your grandmother smirks cockily, “where are they now, anyways?”

It had been true that you and Midoriya had been spending as much time as possible together since the Shinsou incident. It’s been a day since anything had happened, but you’d already shown your hand with tight workout shorts that cupped your ass perfectly that afternoon. You’d given your soon-to-be fling an eyeful, bending over with a sway in the hips so he could see the soft, tender flesh jiggle as you sweat all over yourself.

Even just your body seemed obscene, Midoriya couldn’t stop his eyes from tracking your hand towel as it dried in between the valley of your tits (that he wished so badly he could suck on) or when you took a heaving breath while wiping the sweat off from your forehead. Midoriya felt like a pervert; images of painting you in thick ropes of cum kept him hot-blooded.

“Oops, be careful!”

Midoriya wanted to push you, though. To really test your limits as far as teasing went. He’d tried all his best tips and tricks that he knew, but he wanted more. You saw it all, the thumb brushing his lip being the first strike of many. A hand on your thigh that every so often grew so close to your cunt before pulling away and giving you a wry shrug, “I just like having something to hold!”

Things like that.

“You look really good with cream on your face,” he hummed nonchalantly over a cup of hot chocolate.

“Huh?!”

He doesn’t even have the shame to pretend that he didn’t say what he said.

“I said, if you wanted cream on your face so bad, you should’ve just asked me instead.”

He’s even cocky enough to embellish a little. By dinnertime, you can’t stop wondering what his lips would feel like as he ate you like a man starved, slurping at your folds and tonguing you deep because he wanted to give you everything plus more.

Maybe he’d be willing to go a little further! If you could find somewhere private, maybe he’d cave to your soft eyes and alluring words. While your grandmothers choose what to eat at the bar, you’re busying yourself with tugging on Midoriya’s shirt sleeve.

“So…”

“So?”

“Um, do you wanna,” you didn’t start out too strong, but then he’s leaning in a microinch more and licking his lips, “wanna… find somewhere more private?”

The two of you aren’t being very inconspicuous, and your lips are parting for ones that don’t reach yours. A light laugh is heard beside you as your eyes flutter open. You frown.

“Private? Why would we do that?”

“Midoriya. C’mon,” you give a quick look at your surroundings and hope the elderly really are deaf, “we’ve been doing this, but what about a break? You know, I could help with what’s going on with you….”

He’ll give you one thing, you’re trying really hard. You look great, and he’s noticed the infrequent squeezing of your thighs. You’re probably dripping right now, all because he touched you a little and murmured about how much he wants you.

“Baby,” and he pecks the knuckles of your hands, “it’s just not gonna happen, yet. You can be patient, right?”

Maybe you’ll explode, turn into flames and die of spontaneous combustion. This is torturous. Blasphemous.

“...But I don’t want to wait anymore!”

Then, a firm hand holds your face in his cheeks. Anyone could see you two, but Midoriya has the gall to grab your face and squeeze just a little. You’re mush, and you’re looking at him with starry eyes as he squishes your cheeks.

“Don’t make me have to really punish you,” and while he doesn’t sound threatening, you have half a mind to take him seriously.

Your face is released, and you almost want to grind down in your seat. Adjusting yourself, you pop a tater-tot in your mouth to try and distract yourself from your need. To your utter annoyance, the boy next to you elbows you.

“Besides, you already know that when we do fuck, you'll get everything you want, right? I haven’t forgotten about that kiss, I’m going to prove to you I’m better than him!”

He eats a piece of broccoli like it’s nothing, and you have to fight to hide your grin over your predicament. Midoriya gives you one last look. He fears the feelings inside him. Maybe he likes you like that. He settles to focus on his broccoli.

This game the two of you had been playing was getting rough. Time seemed to fly by, and suddenly you were looking at only a couple weeks left to stay with your grandmother. In turn, this meant that after these few weeks… what you and Midoriya had would cease to exist. You tried not to think about it.

Neither of you brought it up, but aside from every sexual advance, it seemed like the elephant in the room followed you wherever you went. Midoriya had started pulling your chair out for you, started to buy you gifts, and you suspected his soft touches were his biggest tell. Midoriya didn’t seem like the type to fight feelings, and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

Not because you didn’t like him, of course. You just didn’t know how to feel because you couldn’t fight these feelings if you tried.

“Do you wanna call me Izuku?”

“Huh?! Well, well, are you sure?”

“Yeah! We’re, um, we’re close, you know? So I don’t mind! I’d prefer it, coming from you,” it’s funny because the two of you are physically close too, essentially cuddling.

After familiarizing yourself with the entire facility, the two of you managed to find the ideal spots to hang out for some alone time! It was like walking a tightrope, was it going to be you who fell first when you sidled up real close to him? Or was it going to be him when he reached an arm around to comfortably hug your shoulder?

“Well, that does make sense! Okay, Izuku,” you wiggle your shoulders and say it so sweetly that he almost kisses you, “I like it! It suits you, at least when I’m saying it.”

You ham it up, stroking his cheek and murmuring his name like you’re a cheesy romance movie lead. He’s giggling as your hand brushes his sides to tickle him.

“Hey, come on! I told you something personal and now you’re going to tickle me?!”

“Of course I am! Don’t you know who I am?!”

It’s a blur, Izuku’s laughing and you’re telling him about the “tickle monster” that’d just appeared. Once coming down from the gusto of play fighting, something’s changed.

The two of you are stunned when you realize what has happened. Maybe it was Izuku’s fault for flying backwards or yours for following him diligently with wandering hands. The two of you seem to just fit, hips slotted against his own as you look down at him. You’d landed nearly perfectly in his lap, bated breath as both of you took in what it all meant.

“Oh, I know who you are.”

It’s tense.

“The tickle monster is going away, but you better be careful,” you say in a near whisper.

…It’s so tense.

“What do I have to be scared of? You’re just a brat.”

Your heart is beating, and this is too considering you’re chest to chest. Every touch, laugh, and first kiss replays in your memory like a flashback. The smell of anticipation hangs in the air, and you smile because this is finally it.

And he beats you to the chase, lips puckered as he finally kisses you with the passion of the first one after leaving you wanting for too long. He tastes like peppermint, and it’s so hot. Gasping breaths are taken; hormones at an all-time high because you can’t get enough of him now that you know he’s yours.

“Fuck,” he pants, “we can’t do it here.”

You’re still trying to mouth at his jaw, desperate to continue planting heated bursts of love across every inch of his skin. His hands come to your waist, and you’re frowning cutely as if your favorite toy was taken.

“If we’re quiet, no one’s even gonna come….”

Izuku’s nervous. He’s been waiting for so long. Hell, he has the most beautiful girl sitting pretty in his lap, eager to get naked, and yet he’s still hesitating. Your manicured nail tilts his head away from the double doors and back to your panting face.

“We don’t have to,” you say calmly, but you suddenly feel so vulnerable.

Suddenly Izuku realizes you’re about to slip from his grasp like melted butter. It all makes sense.

“No. I’ll fuck you here! We just…need to be quiet, okay?”

“Okay!”

Both mouths go back to sliding against each other, and your teeth tug his lip just so see the redness bloom under the thin skin. All you can hear are the slick sounds of the two of you making out, and your hips start tilting into Izuku’s bulge before you can try to contain yourself.

“We should…” he seems to contemplate your position, “hm. Get on your back, baby.”

Honestly, the couch isn’t the greatest. The narrowness makes you nervous, but the strong arm that nearly lifts you onto your back gives you starry eyes; you can’t complain. One of Izuku’s legs supports him from the floor and for some reason, it all feels so intimate. The way you offer a shy smile and how he pecks your nose so sweetly you almost don’t hear it.

He holds himself up above you, and you can actually see his freckles up close now. He has so many, and each one is wonderful.

Then, his head dives down into the curve of your neck with the swiftness of a cheetah. His teeth graze your pulse point, your back arching and breath hitching as he suckles until a tender purple bruise appears.

“Izuku!”

His cock throbs at how you moan his name.

“Shh! I don’t want to have to keep you quiet, right? Ah…”

His hips grind into yours easily with a fervor that only comes from days of teasing and sexual repression.

“Want you to take off my shirt, ‘zuku,” you mumble weakly, arms already winding around his neck for support as he dry humps you like a fuckdoll.

“Mhm, I will, I will! Just wanna feel you for a second; you’re so fucking warm.”

You’re soaking through your panties. He’s found a good angle, the two of you whimpering together as he mimics fucking you deep and slow. If he was inside you, you’re sure he’d be balls deep with your legs over his shoulders.

But there was no time, and you’re bringing him back to your lips with a twist. If you didn’t reign him in, you were sure the two of you would cum in your pants, and that wasn’t enough. His hand is brought to your chest, squeezing over the fabric so you can squeal in between his tongue that licks into your mouth.

“Play with my tits, only wanna feel you on me,” you can’t even stop talking when his hand travels under your soft cardigan to tug the cups of your bra down, “want you to be the only one that touches me like this.”

He’s transfixed, rough palm skirting over your nipple in a way that makes you shudder.

“You’re so sensitive…”

Your leg is pushed to the floor as Midoriya flips your skirt up.

“I knew it. You’re soaking from me. You’re telling me all these things, but,” and your chest is spilling out from your bra cups as he fully exposes you, “I knew I was yours the minute I saw you.”

If you weren’t in the process of tugging the boy’s mouth closer to your tit, you might’ve picked up on the near-love confession he’d murmured into the fat of your breasts. It’s so heady, so exhilarating knowing someone could walk in on your sticky thighs spread while Izuku gropes your chest.

“Mmph, Izuku! I need more.”

“I know, and we need to hurry this along too…”

It’s a regret he’s forced to pull away from your upper half. Markings dot areas all over your chest and he shudders with empathetic pleasure, knowing you’ll be walking around with skin he defiled is so deeply arousing. You’ll walk around after he stretches you with his pulsing cock, dragging you back onto him like you were made for it. No one would know a thing, and it makes Midoriya tug his belt off with a sense of urgency.

You watch carefully as his thick fingers make quick work on his belt. You can’t help yourself from letting a wandering hand stroke your soaked pussy, adding the slightest amount of pressure on your clit with slow, deliberate circles. His eyes catch yours and then your trembling hand. You feel caught, hand pausing while you turn cherry red.

“No, no. Why’d you stop? Keep going.”

He unbuttons his jeans, but his hands go to palm himself instead of sliding the zipper down like you want.

“Izuku?”

“Get yourself all wet for me, pretty. I wanna see how you touch yourself.”

It’s maybe one of the hottest things you’ve ever heard, and it’s even more attractive when a strong hand drags your hand down to your swollen cunt.

“Are you that bad at being good? You heard me.”

His voice has the same bite it always does. Friendly but in no doubt in charge. Your body temperature rises, and it’s almost embarrassing to get yourself off knowing he’s watching you like a hawk.

He even laughs when your hips jolt, “you can rub harder than that.”

“Why don’t you try?!”

The words don’t come out half as strong as you’d like. Rather, you sound pathetic because his groans are spurring your fingers to pull your panties to the side and actually touch yourself for real. The tips of your fingers are slick, and lewd sounds are echoing as you pump a finger into your gummy walls.

“I’m sure you’re just as good. I mean, you had every day to practice! Shit,” he sighs and dips a hand under his jeans, “wish I had time to use my mouth on you. I bet you taste so good, too.”

You spread your lips to expose your dripping hole, clenching around nothing and leaving a syrupy trail of wetness on your fingers. Izuku trembles, hand gripping the base of his cock as you nearly weep for him.

“I want you to fill me, Izuku. My fingers aren’t enough; I need you here,” and you lay a hand on your lower stomach, “wanna feel you here.”

After begging so cutely and winding yourself up so much that you’re nearly grinding onto the couch cushion, you hope it works. You even move to cup your breast for good measure.

“Don’t you wanna see how good I’d squeeze you?”

It hangs in the air for a moment before Midoriya nods hastily.

“Okay. Yes, okay!”

He digs through his wallet, pulling out a foil square and pushing his boxers down to alleviate the pressure bearing down at him. Sharp teeth rip the foil apart while you take mental notes on the boy before you.

It’s certainly not a disappointment! The mushroom head leaks precum like a fountain. Beading at the slit and eventually bubbling over, it’s so enticing that you’re willing to take him into your mouth just for one second.

Instead, you grab the condom with your hand, and both of you work together to roll it on. He hisses at the contact of your hand gripping his so you can’t help but give a tug just to hear him gasp.

“You’ll make me cum if you do that! Don’t,” he chuckles, swatting your hand away.

“Are you even gonna last more than a minute?”

“Will you?”

The two of you giggle as you maneuver yourself, spreading slick thighs and Izuku splaying your lower half against his. He hisses when his cock slides through your dripping folds, “I’m gonna love this pussy.”

“C’mon,” you whine impatiently, “you’re being unfair–”

He’d had enough of your needy voice, and Izuku could feel all his self-control melt away like snow. First, he pushes the tip in just to keep you quiet (and it works, just as he imagined.)

“Ngh! Ah, wait! Wait, wait…” you’re suddenly about to topple off the edge of pure pleasure if not for Izuku holding your hand in his.

“I-I can’t! Baby, I need to be inside you. You can take it, right?”

He’s pushing his thick dick further in you, and your breath skips in your throat because he’s stretching you so good and making such sinful noises.

“There ‘ya go! There… fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Izuku has to force himself to think of other things, to not think of your drooling pussy taking him in like he belonged there. To not think of how you kept wiggling for more; you couldn’t get enough of feeling him hit that spongy spot that felt so good inside you. He hasn’t even started thrusting yet, just huffing expletives in your ear as he forces himself to not shoot his load too early.

You already look fucked out, looking at him like he hung the moon and stars in the sky for you. You’re looking at him like you love him, and he snaps his hips forward so hard you jerk upwards against the cushions. Soft hands fly to cover your mouth, and you look so pathetic trying to keep quiet as he carves a space inside you for him and only him.

Quiet little “ah, ah, ah!” come out of you in bursts, utterly helpless to the fact that you must stay silent while Izuku pounds you into the worn couch of your grandmother’s retirement home. It’s debauched. It’s so fucking hot.

“I’ve wanted you since the beginning, hah. I was waiting for the right time,” he rambles, but his gaze is stuck on the way he slides way deep into you just to feel his heaviness drag against your folds till it’s just the tip. Again and again, and he’s nearly salivating with the froth you cream on his base, “and you look so pretty and I wanna do more, I–”

You realize he needs to shut up while trying to regain your own bearings. You’re still being vigorously fucked, and you can hardly get a word in with how he punches his cock just deep enough the graze your womb.

It makes you cry out because it hurts so fucking good, and Midoriya is quick shush you like a baby.

“Izu–oh, fuck! Izuku! Izu,” your hand cups his cheek to bring his lips against yours, effectively keeping him quiet.

The natural body weight of Izuku’s body excites your nerves so much that you feel on fire.

“‘M not gonna last long,” he gives a stuttering whisper and sneaks a hand between your bodies, balls slapping lewdly against your ass as he drills into you, “wanna get you off though, hm? Gotta make my pretty girl cum, right?”

He has no idea if he’s just muttering bullshit at this point, but it seems to work considering your increase in volume (something he can’t be bothered to fix.) Izuku wipes his hand on his shirt and rubs slow, small circles on your clit. It’s so methodical. It’s so targeted that you clench harder and harder.

“‘M gonna cum–gonna cream all over you,” your folds flutter so enticingly around him.

“You’re such a good girl, ngh! Cum around my cock; you deserve it..!”

You cum with a wail, no doubt soaking Izuku as he hunkers down onto you and grinds messily into you.

“W-Wish I could fill you up!! You’re so–so perfect.”

“Cum with me, ‘zuku,” you whisper as you comb your fingers through the sweaty hair stuck to his forehead.

Izuku muffles his groan into the crook of your neck, spilling his load in the rubber and sighing as the euphoria washes over him. The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, and you cringe at how the back of your shirt is stuck with sweat from your unexpected tryst. The boy on top of you can barely hold himself up, shaky hands tugging the condom off and tucking himself back into his jeans.

“Oh no!”

There’s a clear wet spot on his jeans, no doubt from barely undressing and thus spilling remnants of your cum together. Part of you wishes you could lick it off, and you have to shut your legs to keep your oversensitive clit from throbbing.

“Oh! That’s… okay. Um, is there a trash can near?...”

It makes you want to laugh at how he looks so boyish now in the post-coital glow. Adjusting your panties, after much deliberation of taking them off since they were soaked, you sit back and rest a hand on Izuku’s knee.

“I think there’s one right outside the main exit,” and then you’re leaning forward to kiss his nose, “...do you wanna go on a date?”

“You can’t say that while I’m still holding the condom that I just fucked you with!”

The two of you laugh before he softly kisses your shiny lips, “but okay.”

By next summer, your grandmothers are wondering how many kids the two of you will have.

#izuku midoriya smut #izuku midoriya x reader #boku no hero academia smut #boku no hero academia x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero imagines #bnha imagines

1K notes · View notes

holylulusworld · 8 months

Text

The assistant (9) - Revenge for champions

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Former!Boss!Steve Rogers x Former!Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader, Ari Levinson x Reader, Andy Barber x Reader, Mike Weiss x Reader

Warnings: angst, flirty CEvans characters, language, plussized/chubby reader, protective brothers, Lloyd being Lloyd, fluff, domestic brothers, Steve Rogers being annoying, arguments

The assistant masterlist

The assistant (8) – A Captain and six brothers

That bastard is still out there. He’s lurking,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Let me get the big guns out. I’ll kill him with one precise blow to his ugly face.”

“Lloyd we talked about this. We won’t kill Captain America,” Andy tuts. He checks on the security cameras again.

“But the thought is nice—” Lloyd flashes his brother a smirk. “Right? Don’t you want to lose control sometimes and just punch the asshole?”

“You’ll only break your hand,” you grab Lloyd’s hand before he can punch an invisible enemy. “We talked about this. Let me handle my former boss. He’s stubborn but will lose interest soon enough.”

“I don’t think he will leave anytime soon,” Ari looks out of the window to keep an eye on Steve. He’s sitting in front of the gate, pouting like an angry child.

“Fine,” you huff. “He leaves me no choice.” You get your phone out to call someone to get Steve off your friends’ property. “I hate getting him involved, but this can’t be helped.”

“Gentlemen,” Tony watches you and the brothers step out of the mansion. He grins and licks his lips at Steve’s reaction. The captain barks orders at your friends, ready to take the gate down.

“Mr. Stark, thank you for coming,” you usher the brothers toward the gate. “I didn’t know what else to do. The captain won’t believe me that I stay at my friends’ place on free terms.”

Tony flashes you a smile. He’s still disappointed that you didn’t want to work for him but understands that you needed space and tried to start a new life, with a new job.

“Anything for you, darling,” he gives you a curt nod before turning his attention toward Steve. “Cap, we should go now. There’s nothing for us to do here.”

“Tony, they are holding Y/N hostage,” Steve points at you standing next to the brothers. Ari, Lloyd, and Curtis immediately crowd you. “See, they won’t let her breathe. I can only imagine what they have done to her since she came here.”

“OH, yeah,” Tony smirks at his friend. “She looks very displeased.” He quirks a brow.

“See—” Steve nods. “You can see it too!”

“Steve, I tried to be sarcastic. Y/N is glowing and looks happy. We should leave her and her friends alone.”

“No! I won’t leave her to these vultures wanting to take advantage of her kindness and innocence. I have to save her!”

“Ah,” the cocky billionaire nods thoughtfully. “I think we are having a Snow White situation here.” Tony smirks at his friend.

“What do you mean, asshat?” Lloyd grunts, ready to fight Iron Man and Captain America if he must.

“Seven guys longing for one woman?” Tony snickers. “Six brothers and one Captain trying to win the beautiful princess’s heart over.”

“I understand that reference, but I’m not a dwarf, Tony,” Steve grunts. “If she’s Snow White, then I’m the Prince Charming!” He points at the brother. “And these men are not friendly dwarfs but criminals and kidnappers.”

“Hey! I’m not a dwarf either, Iron Bucket,” Lloyd angrily glares at Tony. “I know you were always good to Y/N, but I won’t let you get away with insulting me…or my brothers.”

“Wait! I think Snow White got seven dwarfs, right?” Mike throws in. He furrows his brows, struggling to remember the fairytale their mother used to read to him. “We are only six.”

“This makes Captain asshole the seventh dwarf,” Curtis laughs loudly. “I think he’s the one they called Dopey. He doesn’t understand the simplest things.”

“I’ll free Y/N!” Steve points his index finger at Curtis. “You won’t hurt her on my watch.”

“Hurt her?” Jake has had enough. He steps toward the gate, hands wrapping around the bars. Jake sneers at Steve and grits his teeth. “The only person hurting her was you! She lost her job, the one she loved because you wanted to stick your dick into that stupid bitch’s snatch. What a man you are. Ordering food for everyone but the sweet woman saving your ungrateful ass every day.”

“You know nothing about me and Y/N!” Steve angrily replies. “I-I made mistakes but tried to apologize. When I came to her home, she was gone. Kidnapped by you and your brothers!”

“We didn’t kidnap her! Y/N is my friend. She came to my café to tell me about all the shit you pulled on her. Day after day she worked her cute ass off to make your life easier. Was it too much to ask for that you gave her a little respect and paid for her fucking lunch?” Jake kicks the bars. “I swear, you’re lucky the gate is in between us. If not, you’d be dog food.”

“Whoa, Jakie,” Lloyd places his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Freaking out and threatening people to kill them is my job. How about you bring Y/N back inside and leave this job to me and Ari.”

“She stands right behind you, Lloyd,” you grunt and slap Lloyd’s ass. “I can speak for myself.” You step next to Jake to look Steve in the eyes. “Listen, I know you believe what you are doing is the right thing, but you couldn’t be more wrong. These men are my friends. Jake is my friend and he’d never hurt me. Please just leave.”

“But they—” Steve points at Lloyd. “I don’t trust them. I know you are kind and believe people are always good, but there are bad people out there, who want to take advantage of a pretty girl like you. I can’t let them do this to you.”

“My friends won’t harm me in any way,” you purse your lips. “I’m not like Sandy, a damsel in distress. I don’t look tough like Agent Romanoff, but I know how to defend myself.”

“She can defend herself,” Ari places his hand on your shoulder, “but she doesn’t have to. We are here to defend her and her honor. So, if you’d kindly fuck off now, we want to have dinner with our lovely Y/N.”

“Tony, don’t you have anything to say?” Steve despairs. He can see the determination in your eyes and can only hope you are not wrong. He’d never forgive himself if these men take advantage of you. “Do something!”

“Alright,” Tony claps his hands. “I got enough of this, kiddos. I’m too old for this shit.” He says. “Even though, Capsicle is older than me.”

“Tony!”

“How about you let Steve stay for the night? He promises to behave, and you promise to let him have a look at Y/N’s room.”

“He can have a look at my ass before I let him inside my home!” Lloyd points at his ass.

“Uh-I don’t know,” Mike murmurs. “If he can have a look around the house and sees that we are treating Y/N with respect, he’ll leave us alone.”

“I hate to say it, but Mike ain’t wrong,” Andy throws in. “He won’t leave and I’m not much into getting spied on. Having Captain America lurk around your house is bad for our reputation. People will start asking questions.”

Steve watches the brothers and you discuss Tony’s suggestion. He uses his enhanced hearing to listen to your heartbeat. Your heart beats normally. You’re not afraid at the moment, but he’s still not convinced that you are not in danger.

“Fine by me.” Steve finally says.

“The shield stays outside,” Lloyd points at Steve’s shield. “…and you won’t set foot into our home wearing your ugly suit. Civilian clothes, no shield.”

“He’ll follow your rules and leave your house, tomorrow morning,” Tony stretches his hand out. “I give you my word, Mr. Hansen.”

“I’ll keep you up on that promise,” Lloyd grabs Tony’s hand. He squeezes hard, making sure Tony knows the man in front of him isn’t afraid of Iron Man at all. “If you break it…well…you don’t want to know what happens if you fuck with Lloyd Hansen.”

“Revenge for champions will happen,” Ari grunts. He points at Tony. “You better keep your buddy in line. If not, I’ll release the beast.”

“…I’m the beast,” Lloyd smirks darkly. “I love letting hellfire rain down on my enemies. Especially when I can defend our sweet Y/N…”

Part 10

Tags in reblog.

#lloyd hansen #curtis everett #steve rogers #ari levinson #jake jensen #mike weiss #plus-sized reader #andy barber #The assistant (9) - Revenge for champions #plussized!reader

151 notes · View notes

vagabond-umlaut · 11 months

Text

verglas

A thin coating of glaze ice on rock, formed by freezing rain hitting the tough surface.

▸ Yakuza Head Gojo x Personal Assistant Reader; Protective Gojo; Insecure Gojo; A Smidgen of Toxic Gojo [If You Squint]; Mentions of Violence [Not Towards Reader!!!]; Reader Is Very Sweet & Understanding But... :)); Lying & Manipulation; A Not-Really-Angst But With A Definitely-Happy-Ending; NOTHING IS WHAT YOU THINK IT IS :D

▸ The image, divider and characters used ain't mine. Please don't plagiarize, translate or repost this. Enjoy reading! ❤️

"Shut. Up."

"Say that to those phones going ballistic in your office, Gojo."

An exasperated sigh sounding in the quiet of the breakroom, Satoru pinches the bridge of his nose with one hand and pours the seventh packet of sugar into his coffee with the other– before he sighs again, resigned this time, and turns to throw the woman sipping tea on the couch, a piercing glare.

"Whoever the fuck you choose, they better be as efficient and reliable as Nanami was. And be very clear on the temporary nature of this job. I don't want ANY nagging from this new P.A., when Nanami returns in a month— Okay?"

Shoko's face shifts into a smile too wide to not be scary. "Okay, Boss!"

This Was A Mistake.

The biggest one ever made by Satoru in his twenty nine years of life.

Yet he does nothing but groan under his breath when you hand him a cup of coffee and the documents needed for the next meeting, a grin resting on your lips which grows brighter when his fingertips come in contact with yours while taking the cup and he mutters a thanks with an equally small smile– only for it to twist into a scowl when you leave the room.

Suguru erupts into a fit of snickers, which turns into howling laughter when Satoru pins him with a deathly glare. The latter barely stops his hands from reaching across the table, to snap the bastard's neck into halves.

The former wipes a tear from the corner of his eyes. "You're wayy too obvious, you know that? Looking all concerned and worried for her— you think she won't be able to survive this world, don't you?"

His best friend's words makes Satoru's eyes widen behind his glasses before he forces a scoff out.

"Don't be ridiculous, Suguru," he says, taking a sip of his coffee, then scrunching his nose from how less sweet it tastes. He decides to pay no attention to it for the time, choosing to focus his mind on another much more pressing issue at hand as he takes a breath and resumes.

"I don't think so. I know so. Have you even seen her? She looks too bright and good for something as dark and cursed as our world of crime. You think she'll be able to stomach everything? Ha!!" he lets loose a huff, shaking his head, "Hearing how bad this is and seeing everything for herself— it won't even be a week before she leaves."

Suguru's teasing grin devolving into one of sympathy, the man offers a comforting squeeze on his palm– not that it does anything to quell the storm within the other man's insides or whatever. The latter gives him a tight smile in return.

"You don't think she will leave, right?"

"Not at all, you loser," the black-haired man reassures, eyes crinkling in a smile, "Just tone down how very obvious you are. You might not want her to discover the evil, but your attached ass might just make that happen– and not in a nice pleasant way— you get it, don't you?"

A terse nod is the only reply Satoru finds he can gather to the query.

Okay, maybe [just maybe], appointing you wasn't a mistake after all.

Fondness strums Satoru's heartstrings, stretching and dimpling his cheeks, at the celebratory sight he finds on walking out the elevator:

You, wearing a party hat a bit too big for you, grinning at the camera held by Toge while Nobara and Yuuji stand on either side of you, two matching beams on both their faces; all the while Maki yells at Yuuta in the background for what-must-be-his-tenth-fault-of-the-day; and Shoko and Kusakabe quietly observe the scene from the side, with a paper cup each of what, the white-haired man is certain, is alcohol—

A call of his name draws the man's attention from the party before to the frowning boy beside— confusion swimming in the latter's eyes as they dart between the tiny crowd before and his mentor, and he asks, "Am I forgetting anyone's birthday today?"

"Oh no," Satoru is quick to shake his head with a chuckle— he knows enough of your hatred for the current season from the rants you have showered him in, ever since he has known you– a shudder runs down his spine, thinking how intense your rants would have been were your birthday in this horrible season as well!— "My assistant finished three weeks of her job here, so everyone is throwing her a party."

"I see," Megumi hums, nodding thoughtfully, before looking ahead at his friends, more specifically Yuuji when the pink-haired boy yells out a boisterous 'Oi Fushiguro! When did you return?'

"Today morning," The addressed boy answers, then turns to you with a small smile, "Congratulations and many thanks on dealing with the idiot for so long, in Nanami-san's absence. We were scared this place might get burnt down when we were told of his month-long holiday."

"That or few of us going to the mental hospital three blocks away and few of us to jail for murdering Gojo," Nobara adds with a chuckle that sounds much less cheery and friendly to your boss, than you told she is on meeting the girl the first time, "Seriously, Assistant-san! You are a lifesaver to so many people."

"Aww, you two adorable kids!!" you coo, bringing the grumpy boy and the bubbly girl into a hug, "I never thought, y'all would think so highly of me!! To know, all of you think so many nice things of me— I am the happiest person on earth right now– no one's allowed to inquire that!"

"Well, you're not just those but our lucky charm too!!!"

Yuuta's voice sounds from the top of the ladder, while he fixes the too many paper decorations hanging from the ceiling, "There hasn't been one occurence of anything bad ever since you joined the office!— Not one shoot-out, not one assassination attempt– Hell– We did not even find a spy— even though there was such a huge deal Gojo-san had to sign with the Kamo's— by the way, it went well, didn't it, Sensei?"

"Of course, it did, kid!" Satoru sends the boy's nervous question a big toothy grin and thumbs-up, then turns to you with a smirk, "Though, I wonder how well my assistant might fare were she to come face-to-face with such scary things— what do ya think, sweetheart?"

Your brows rise for less than a beat before settling down, the same moment your radiant grin simmers down to a minor twitch of your lips— Satoru's heart makes an erratic thrash against the boundary set by his ribcage whilst his stomach gets aflutter when you shoot him a long look– certainly not one suited for a public setting.

Head tilting to the side, you murmur, "I've already read the terms and conditions, so I think I can handle them just fine— Sir."

"What is wrong wi— hey!"

The shock in your tone being swallowed by the loud slam of the door, Satoru wastes no time in locking it before pulling you in to cage your form between himself and the wall.

If he thinks rationally, the man will know there is no reason for him to be so enraged, no reason for him to be so furious—

No reason for him to pull you away from the banquet hall to this room multiple corridors away from the grand dinner party of the Gojo's and the Kamo's– providing enough fodder to feed the gossipmongers and their next twenty generations–

The problem is there's no ounce of rationality left in him— not since that pathetic third son of one of his allies tried to chat you up— and certainly not since that utter waste of space and oxygen went to hit you for politely rejecting him time and again— the very sight of your features twisted in terror enough to awaken the slumbering beast in the man— and make it snatch control from his more humane side—

"Hey," The whispered word accompanied by the delicious feel of nails raking across his undercut jolts him out his mind, making his gaze go clearer– go redder– as he trains it on your visibly worried face, "Are—"

"Happy seeing me turn into a monster, honey?" Satoru hisses, cutting you off and pushing you further into the wall, as he leans down to get into your space.

Fingers digging into your waist whilst the other hand curls into a fist above your head, he finds himself wear a smile, so wide and crooked, cooing, "Or are you cursing yourself for entering this world in the first place, sweet cheeks? Feeling sorry for mingling with someone as bad as the one before you now, don't ya??"

"Satoru—" you begin, voice wavering and weakening, the man notes– but he finds himself uncaring as he clicks his tongue and tuts, "Don't think you can 'Satoru' out of this one, darling— I know whatever your sweet voice spouts next will be nothing but lies fuelled by fear. Those gorgeous eyes of yours are sooo filled with panic– tell me," he croons.

"Will you be bowing out right now? Or tomorrow? First thing in the—"

"And what if I say I won't ever leave, 'cause I love seeing my husband go crazy protecting me?"

Your question reaches him as nothing more than a hushed breath of the wind entering through the open window yet it proves to be more than capable in stilling Satoru. Fist unclenching, and mouth opening and closing a few times, he struggles to choke out an ask of surprise, except you don't let him.

Hand gliding from his neck to his front, fingers grasping and crinkling the ironed white shirt, you yank your husband towards yourself– eyes not leaving his for once, the dewy sheen in those putting him under a spell– not that he wasn't already bewitched by a tiny mention of your name, or the faintest glimpse of your figure.

Lower lip trembling a little, you continue, the same hushed as before.

"And what if I say I won't ever leave, 'cause I love seeing my husband being who he really is— and not some weird warped version, all half-truths and half-lies— Ever since we started going out, and even now, four years into our married life–"

Your chest heaves in a heavy sigh, its softness still tangible through your sky-blue dress when it touches his chest and deflates. You ask.

"What if I say I'm never going to leave you nor stop loving you— Not caring if you're my sweetest 'Toru caressing me with those hands of yours— Or, if you're the notorious Six Eyes, almost killing a guy with those same hands, just to safeguard me—"

A slow beat passes, wherein you slide a palm up to cup his cheek and smile, soft and sure and soothing, "What if I promise you all this, what will you do, Satoru?"

"Will you still hide stuff from me?? Become angrily silent, whenever I try to figure them out by myself— like I did, requesting Nanami to go on a vacation, just so I can become your P.A., to know who you really are as the notorious 'Yakuza King'— will you still stay mad at me, like these last few weeks, hm??"

Guilt pinches his features and twists his insides at the heart-rending quality of your query, and the memories it pushes to the surface– so cold, so dark, so lonely...

Satoru forces out a quivery exhale, fingers flexing on your lower back and drawing you even closer to himself— but never sufficiently close to your love, of course.

He drops his head to rest it in the crook of your neck, mumbling, "You serious on promising not to leave me, sweets?"

"One hundred percent," Your chuckling voice reaches him in less than a moment. Only to grow breathy, when he drags the tip of his tongue over your pulse point— a move which never not turns your legs into a jelly, very very much to your husband's glee—

A restrained whimper of his name pulling Satoru away from his self-assigned mission of suffocating you in love and praise, he raises his gaze to find your pretty lips puckered in a pout, before parting in an adorable grumble, "I blabbered so much but you didn't even tell me what you'll be doing, should I pro–"

"Shhhh..." Your husband shushes you with a finger on your lips, heart swelling manifold when you shoot him a fatally cute confused look as a response. Satoru's cheeks stretch in one of the most genuine grins, felt by the man in seemingly forever.

He bends to brush his lips with yours, lowering his voice to a murmur.

So hungry. So thirsty. So happy.

Solely for you.

"With the terms and conditions all accepted now, it's time I serve and please my lady to the fullest, yeah?"

Yeah, yeah, yeah— you and Satoru sure solve your conflicts happily that night— but poor Kento has to return three days early from his family vacation in Malaysia– only because Suguru & Shoko cannot handle the aftermath of the SPECTACLE made by The Arctic King Of Yakuza hurrying away from the banquet, 'holding hands' with his new P.A., then returning with her an hour later and announcing: SHE IS HIS WIFE—

Quite unsurprisingly, your hubby 'Toru is nearly killed in his office the next morning by his three closest friends since forever– the word nearly there in the sentence only due to your [un]timely intervention. :))

▸ series: tang!

▸ masterlist

378 notes · View notes