Aizawa fic - CH4 - Entrapment
18+ Only! SFW (for now)
Shouta Aizawa x Villain!OC/Reader(?)
CH1
CH2
CH3
RIP so this took me forever to write... I’m not ginna apologize because it WILL happen again, but like,,, I’m always gonna post a new chapter eveentuallly hahaaaaaaaa ~ well anyways, enjoy..\its gonna get spicy in like 2 chapters dw Shouta is gonna get his dom hat on ;]
I wake up sore. The lights are impossibly bright and I groan, trying not to open my eyes all the way. I try to reach up and rub my eyes, the pulsing behind them growing intense, but there’s a sound of metal on metal and a pinch at my wrist when I do. I actually open my eyes, wincing at the brightness and see my hands cuffed down in front of me. They’re secured to a large metal table in a very bright, open room. No one else is near, but I can see the mirrored observation glass to my left that I can only imagine is full of cops, detectives, and quirk handlers ready to pounce on me if I so much as sneeze the wrong way. I shift my head to gain some slight comfortability, only to feel a heavy collar around my neck. I can’t see it, but it feels like solid metal. A ring encasing my entire throat. lt’s humming softly, it’s on, whatever it is. I’m still trying to get used to my surroundings when there’s a ‘click’ and a loud scraping noise from behind me. It must be a door, because the air pressure changes in the room and I can immediately feel two people enter the tight quarters.
Their eyes are on me and I can feel the bile rising in my throat. I want so badly to disappear from existence, just to remove the pressure of their gaze on the back of my head. I slink down into my chair as much as I can. My restraints are tight and barely allow me to so much as breathe, my ankles cuffed to the chair, and a seatbelt type strap across my lap to keep me pressed into the metal seat. There’s another across my shoulders. My chest tightens and I wiggle a little bit, being strapped to a chair isn’t exactly one of my favorite things.
A tall man in a black suit jacket rounds the table and drops a manila folder on the table. His white button up shirt hangs open at the collar, no tie, but there’s wrinkles around the top button. He must have disregarded his tie at some point. What time is it? Has he removed his tie because it’s too early or too late? He crosses his arms across his chest and focuses his tired eyes on me, his jaw clenched and lips set into a hard line. He looks like every disgruntled detective in every buddy cop movie ever. I stifle the urge to groan and roll my eyes. This is gonna be excruciating.
He clears his throat and presses an index finger to the folder on the table in front of me, it’s surprisingly thin, probably only 2 or three sheets of paper between the cardstock, the tab has my name printed on it in big, black lettering. Their file on me is minuscule, they must not know much about me at all. I fight the urge to grin, I can’t get ahead of myself, they do still have me chained to a chair. “You’ve been causing quite a stir.” His voice is gruff, but it conveys something almost… impressed.
“Really?” I deadpan. “I wasn’t aware.” The atmosphere is thick and I can feel the person behind me grow tense. My throat is sore and my voice comes out ragged. I cough, choking on my own spit and trying to suck in another coarse breath. I can feel my cracked rib stinging as I try to breathe slowly, evenly. My heart rate pumping loudly in my ears definitely isn’t helping my cause. This won’t go well for me if I get too worked up. I pinch my eyes shut, trying to refocus myself.
“Two disturbances in one day.” He continues, ignoring my bratty attitude. “That’s more publicity than you’ve been raking up lately. Feeling bold?” He raises an eyebrow at me. I try to grip at what he’s thinking, what interest layers beneath these rudimentary questions, but there’s something stopping me. A fuzzy mental block that seems to have my quirk contained, not gone like when Eraser Head had ripped it from me, my brain isn’t empty, just slightly muted, held only within me. I glare up at him, confusion and repulsion evident on my face. “Oh, that? Your quirk is being restricted. That collar on your neck is emitting a neutralizing frequency. One of our tech support faculty designed it especially for you.” He uncrossed his arms and leaned against the wall, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “You should feel special.”
His taunting only serves to piss me off and I lash out, still strapped to the chair. “Let me the fuck OUT OF HERE!” I howl even though my dry throat protests. “What do you even want from me?” I’m trying desperately to break free, but this only results in a pitiful wiggling in the chair. I’m wheezing now, my ribs and lungs burning. The detective looks down at me from across the room, seemingly amused by my display. This only sends me into more of a fury. I fling myself backwards, the chair tipping with me. With no way of stopping myself from falling, I feel myself lose balance, no control over the way my wrists yank forward, still cuffed to the table.
I’m suspended in what feels like thin air, only two legs of the metal chair still connected to the ground and the handcuffs on my wrists digging into the skin. My head falls back and I see him. He’s standing next to the door behind me, hands shoved deep into his pockets, a look of absolute lack of interest on his face. He’s still upside down to me, like the last time I witnessed him, but there’s something so different about him now. I want to see that wild look in his eye again. I want him to lash out at me. “Oh! You’re here!” Something in me shifts, a smile breaking onto my face. I no longer care that I’m held captive or under the scrutiny of the law, all I care about is this brooding man before me. “Y’know, I think you broke my ribs.” I let my head lull to the side slightly, lost in daydream about our last encounter. His black, unruly hair frames his face perfectly for me to see his jaw clench. “Of course, I don’t mind a little pain.” I let the last syllable warble on my tongue, it comes out flirtier than I meant it to, almost seductive.
Eraser Head doesn’t move from his stoic position at the door, and I can hear the detective clear his throat again, trying to regain my attention. My eyes don’t move from Eraser Head’s face, studying his heavy lidded eyes and the scar on his cheek. “Let’s cut to the chase. You’ve held up 6 different locations in the past month and all of them have had criminal activities facilitated through them, but all from different crime rings.” He sighs. I can’t tell if he really has a question for me or if he’s just going to summarize all my endeavors. “There’s no way that you’re part of so many crime rings, half of them are at odds anyways.” My gaze is still fixed on Eraser, his eyes locked onto mine, staring so deeply into me, taking my soul and giving me nothing in return. I feel consumed by the need to provoke him. “So my question is this: How? How did you know about all these locations?” His voice is slightly raised, obviously frustrated by the fact that I’m barely paying him any mind with Eraser Head in the room.
“I had a dream about you.” I continue to ignore the gruff detective, solely focused on the pro hero that has infiltrated my deepest sentiments. Eraser Head releases a slow breath, trying hard not to betray his cool demeanor. “I can tell you all about it if you like.” The flirtation is still heavy on my tongue, but it comes out breathy and with reproach because of my dry, crackling throat. He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, staring me down even harder than before, the spark from before starting to return to his eyes. “Or show you.” I wiggle my eyebrow a little, cackling at my own emboldened state even as I’m being interrogated.
Eraser Head rips his eyes from mine to look up at the detective of whose name I still don’t know. “I’m leaving. This is obviously going nowhere.” He starts to turn to the door, hand slipping from his pocket to knock on the heavy sealed door for the person on the other side to open it and let him out. My eyes widen, desperate to keep him in this room with me. He can’t seriously be leaving. He just got here, besides that, I’m not done toying with him yet. If he leaves now there’s no guarantee I’ll ever see him again. I can’t be sent to prison without even a semblance of his desire. Furthermore, I can’t be left with this stuffy stereotypical cop.
A whine falls from my lips. “Nooooooo…” I lean forward in the chair and let it fall back onto all four legs. “Fine! Fucking FINE! I’ll answer your fucking questions, but HE stays!” I nod towards the door that had just started to open, Eraser Head halfway out the door already. “I’m ONLY talking to him!” My eyes flick back to the detective, observing the way that he looks to the hero, then back to me, and up to the hero again. His eyes are wide and he looks caught between a rock and a hard place. They must really need my information if they’re even considering taking my demands to heart.
I hear the door close again, hoping that Eraser is still on my side of it. I know he is when his dark body starts rounding the table, standing next to the detective there. They exchange a hushed word that I can’t quite hear, both of them giving me a harsh side eye. When he turns back to face me, he glares down at me, one hand still in his pocket. My heart jumps out of my chest as he approaches me. He starts to lean towards me, across the table, still lording over me, his free hand pressing into the cool metal of the table, it looks so large there, it could easily fit all the way around my neck. I shiver at the thought. “Unfortunately, you are under no circumstance to be making demands. You will answer Detective Aiko’s questions.” He stands tall again, pushing a stray hair out of his face. “Goodbye.” He says it with finality, ending the conversation, there’s no room to argue. I do anyway.
He begins to walk towards the door again, leaving my line of vision. “You can’t leave already!” I start to lash out again. “You can’t just leave!” I flail back and forth as best as I can. “You can’t!” The shouting is leaving me dizzy and I toss myself back again, the chair tipping like it had before. However, unlike before, I am stopped before my wrists are pulled forward by the cuffs. I look up to see him standing behind me, free hand on the back of the chair, propping me up. I stop struggling immediately, enthralled by the way his hair dangles around his face as he looks directly down at me. My mouth hangs open, he looks like my guardian angel, the way the fluorescent lights display the edges of his tangled hair, he looks wind swept and dangerous, a warrior if I had ever seen one.
He suddenly jerks me forward, the chair slamming back to a regular seated position. “Behave.” He says it like a command, his tone still dry. “And maybe I’ll come back.” With that his hand is gone from the back of the chair, the tiny contact points where his fingers had brushed the nape of my neck, still burning. There’s that knock again, the door opening and closing, then nothing. He’s gone. I’m left feeling stifled, like a cork ready to pop.
I look up at Detective Aiko, already feeling snappy after that interaction. I sneer at his raised brow, like he had witnessed something telling. “ASK YOUR DAMN QUESTIONS!” I roar at him and he smirks to himself, now knowing I’ll answer. This is definitely going to be absolute hell.
~
Yah I literally had a fucking stroke trying to get myself to write that. BUt anyways, Im just gearing up for the nasty ass smut that is about to go down in this mfkr, also maybe I can get those of ya’ll that are interested a seat to the tamaki show imma be putting on very soon :”)
CH5
