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#but I’m really glad we are continuing to have this conversation through out the fandom
yandere-sins · 7 months
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The Orcas' Tale - Lyr's Story I
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And here he is, our sweetest, craziest, loveliest boy ♥ Honestly, it was fun giving Lyr a bit more personality than he had in the original story, and I am also glad to have provided him with a cute little darling of his own. I hope you guys enjoy slipping into the role of a mermaid, and ehem look forward to a different kind of spice (;
Fandom: Original Content   Pairings: Yandere!Orca Merman x GN!AFAB!Reader   Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con Kissing/Touching/Fingering, Bondage kind of), Violence (Threats to kill/harmm reader, Sharp teeth/claws, Almost tearing off reader's jaw), Monsters/Non-Human reader, Animalistic behavior, Mention of blood/claws/sharp teeth, Hinting at death/non-con, Feeding the reader seal meat, Being caught in a net, Long post
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"They just won't stop bugging! Like, I get it, Mom, bringing a human into the pod was stupid and dangerous, but it's not our fault that Nerrocan left!"
Heaving a deep sigh, Lyr looked up at the water's surface through the holes in the ceiling of the cove he had found. Light was shimmering into the mostly calm water, a few tiny fish slipping in and out of the cave-like structure while he rested on his back, ignoring any wildlife of the ocean as he had no interest in small fry. They didn't get close enough to be caught, wary of the superior predators of the sea, who, unbeknownst to anyone's eyes, looked more like friends hanging out than what they really were—captor and captive.
Despite his annoyance and loud complaining, he looked tired. You had witnessed many a mood of his ever since he decided to hide you away for his own enjoyment, but as of late, every time Lyr visited you, he looked more exhausted than the last. As usual, his eyes were dull, and his dorsal fin collapsed. For an orca in his best years, he looked like he'd been dragged through the blue hell, but it invoked no sympathy inside you. All you could do was listen and observe, but knowing he was the merman responsible for your misery, you felt no pity for your clearly mentally unstable captor. Reaching to his left, Lyr picked another piece of meat from the seal carcass he had hunted, slipping the food into his mouth before continuing his rant.
"Who'd have known that guy had it in him. Can't help but respect him getting the fuck out of the pod, and I'm glad I don't have to see his wannabe goody two-fin face anymore. It's been getting harder to put him in his place with how aggressive he suddenly got."
"Won't they miss him?"
Lyr stopped chewing, his head falling to the side, facing you. Muddy purple eyes sprang to life, reflecting the light as brilliant as rare corals. With one big gulp, he devoured what had been left of his meal, a toothy grin spreading over his lips. "Look who decided to talk! Who's gonna miss him? His mommy? Sure. It's not like she has a dozen more just like him."
For a moment, you held his stare, watched the grin stretch wider, and twisted his expression into a grimace before you lowered your eyes, settling on drawing swirls into the sand. It wasn't like you wanted to have a conversation with him, but listening day in and day out to his crazy rambles and complaints was just as bovine as engaging with the madman. 
"That's not very nice. I'm sure his mom loves them all equally. You've got a big family, after all."
"Nah," he retorted, shaking his head. Picking out a bone from the seal's body, he used it as a toothpick, cleaning out the sharp-edged teeth he loved flashing you. "Orcas aren't like yours. We don't love each other just because we share the same blood or come from the same mother. Either you're useful to the pod and do what you're told, or you're at the very bottom of the food chain. I could never be the same as Krill, no matter how hard I tried. He was always Mom's favorite, so now I just don't try anymore. It doesn't even matter to them where I am, but it suits me. Now I got a lot more time to spend with ya!"
Now it was your time to grimace while Lyr flopped onto his side and closer to you, surely noticing the tension growing in your body as you felt appalled by the ever-closing distance. He tossed the bone carelessly into the water while your movements abruptly stopped. You wished it was as easy as the flap of your fin to get away from him, but you were rendered helpless to his touch, unable to get away from his pointed finger dragging over your forearm, his claw teasing your softer skin. He didn't just have the advantage of size, but you knew that no matter how haggard he might appear, you'd be no match against him in a scuffle. Much less now that you were trapped.
And your growling stomach wasn't helping.
While you let out an exasperated groan, Lyr laughed loudly about your misery, finding your dependency on him to not starve hilarious. As much as you despised being at his mercy, you had no choice but to humor him if you wanted to survive, even when he enjoyed your reluctant behavior so much that he held his stomach aching from laughter. 
"You could have just told me you're hungry!" he teased, grinning from ear to ear at you while you gave him an ashamed glare, staying silent as a stone in your spot, belly-down in the sand. "I don't mind sharing, ya know? There's still so much of this yummy seal left, it would be a shame to give it to the fish. You know what you gotta do to earn it, right?"
Gritting your teeth, you watched the smugness wash over his expression as he sent you into yet another predicament. You even considered eating a heap of sand instead of bowing to his will. As if being trapped wasn't enough, he just had to exploit you at every chance he got, and you hated how easily your survival instinct made these reckless decisions for you, which he'd never let you live down. The hole in your stomach didn't get any smaller. Lyr's last visit had been a few days already, and you were in no condition to hunt efficiently for yourself. So aside from small, stupid fish that came too close to you, you hadn't eaten outside of his visits, and it was starting to show. 
You knew what you had to do. Unfortunately.
No matter how much your brain screamed at you not to, your body knew it instinctively, propping itself onto your forearms while you sighed inwardly, feeling defeated by your needs. Moving was the hardest part about being caught in a net. It was an unusual heavy net with clunky weights that had slung around your fin and lower body, dragging you to the ground where Lyr had found you. Even he had been surprised by the sturdiness of this net when he first inspected it but quickly had taken advantage of the situation, dragging you to this much more hidden place and out of plain sight so he had you all to himself. At least he didn't kill you; that's what you told yourself. But death was more merciful than Lyr, that much you knew by now. 
He had no problem being patient when it meant watching you struggle as you dragged yourself toward him. Lyr didn't even mind you digging your meager claws into his skin when you grabbed onto him, using his body to support yourself while you lifted off the ground, close enough to feel his watery breath ghost against your face. Placing your lips over his, you flinched away in reluctance before forcing yourself to keep going, counting to three this time before twisting your head to the side. 
Lyr hummed, sounding dissatisfied as you felt his hand brush up your spine. Nesting his palm at the nape of your neck, you refused to look forward again until he twisted his own head to find your lips, his much sharper, much more dangerous claws only curling into place the second he got what he wanted. Now, with an appreciative chortle, he relished in stealing another kiss, tongue swiping over your pursed lips until he found a hole in your defense, worming into your mouth. 
You were no stranger when it came to mating habits, but compared to your fellow dolphins, Lyr was surprisingly gentle. He relished in your defiance but seemed to enjoy enticing little moans and gasps from you just as much. His tongue was a choking hazard in a mouth that wasn't fit to house it. Though you had gills, you could barely concentrate on breathing while you fought against him as best as you could. Still, he took his sweet time exploring every inch, letting air flow out of his mouth and into yours, never not considering you while doing what he wanted. He even softened his hold on you, rubbing his palms down your back in a spine-tingling motion when you stopped struggling against him. It was almost like he was rewarding you for good behavior, and it was sickeningly pleasurable.
But the taste of flesh and blood lingering on his tongue made your stomach growl, your body eagerly moving towards him, hoping to find food. All you gained was a chuckle before he nicked your lower lip with his sharp teeth in warning. Your fangs probably wouldn't be able to bite through his thick tongue, but despite this weird obsession he had with you, he was almost more wary of you than you of him. It seemed like he could never cut himself loose completely despite having nothing to fear from an easy target like you. He seemed so relaxed and unbothered whenever he visited you, but it was almost as if he was plagued by invisible ghosts whispering into his ears. 
Despite his warning, you found his arms wrapping around your body, pulling you on top of him before you two rolled over to the other side, Lyr resting you gently down in the sand. He didn't care that the net that had trapped you to the ocean floor also got dragged over his tail, unbothered by possibly getting stuck like you were. Perhaps he simply didn't mind that thought as much as you did. To be fair, considering he was much stronger and the material had yet to wrap around and get stuck on his fins like it had with yours, it posed no threat to the orca. And yet, it was infuriating to you, who wanted nothing more than to swim away and reunite with your own kind. 
Propping his arm in the sand next to your head, he looked down at you with a satisfied smile and a mischievous spark in his eyes but reached over you, grabbing a piece of seal meat. He brought it up to your lips, dabbing it against them, though you refused to open for him. "I can feed myself just fine," you reminded him, wiggling your hands in the air to demonstrate your ability to hold things before trying to take the food from him.
"Now, don't be ungrateful, or I'll bring you a turtle shell to gnaw on next time."
You could feel your face contort in disgust at his suggestion, reluctantly parting your lips to nib at the food dangling in front of your face. Once you had a taste of meat, your body couldn't resist, gobbling up every last bite hungrily while Lyr kept providing it for you with a smile. If he wasn't fast enough, your teeth would drag over his fingers, but he wouldn't even flinch or scold you, his fin slapping against the sand instead, almost as if he enjoyed your nibbles. 
Seal wasn't your preferred food, but in times of food scarcity—like it has ever since getting holed up with Lyr—it was as good as any. The rest of the carcass was devoured faster than your excited stomach wanted, and you still didn't feel satisfied after eating every last piece. Had you been free, you'd have gone hunt for more without a moment of rest. But the gnawing hunger had subsided at least, and if Lyr came back again soon, you'd at least not have to endure it for too long until the next meal. 
Pausing your thoughts, you realized you had just longed for Lyr to provide for you again soon, immediately turning the hunger into nausea as you pondered on it. 
You were too quiet, too long for his taste as he sought out your lips again after your meal. Brushing his thumb over them, your instinct mistook his finger for more food. You could barely stop yourself from biting into his gnarly claw as the urge to eat won over again. However, your mouth was open long enough as realization dawned on you of what you were doing, for him to cup your face instead, turning it slightly to him so his tongue could lick over your lips and dip in again. Lyr hummed merrily as he tasted the seal on you, unashamed, unbothered by you struggling to keep him out, fingers wrapping around his throat—unsuccessful in deterring him. He was waiting for your breath to run out before taking the chance to deepen the kiss again, ever so patient with you. 
"I think I get it now," he mumbled, breaking the kiss before leaving some more superficial brushes of his lips against yours. "Nerrocan was onto something. We just didn't know it."
"Why didn't you go with him then?" you mumbled back, turning your face away to avoid any more unwanted affection, even if it meant resting it in his palm. 
To your surprise, Lyr scoffed loudly, and you flinched away as you could feel his mood shift. His palm didn't grow stiff and rigid. However, you still forced yourself away from it, too afraid he might—possibly on accident, but much more likely intentionally—rake his claws over your face, leaving wounds deep and painful. It was useless, however, as he used the same hand to collect your floating hair instead, forcing you to look at him while his gaze drilled into you with fury swirling in his eyes. 
"Listen, I might not remember how we got to that place, but I know all the shit they did to us!" 
You whimpered as he pulled your hair back, your neck struggling to keep up with his demands from your position. Lyr took a sharp breath, pausing the angry flashing of his fangs as he watched you cowering in front of him, ever so slightly calming down at the sight of fear flashing in your eyes. You hated him when he mocked you and also when he was delighted in your suffering. But you hated his anger more, his haggard body still crushing and his fangs and claws sharp despite whatever he went through. One bite into your throat, and you were a goner, especially with how exposed the soft flesh was to him now.
"I'll never go back there! Never! They cut us open, prod inside us with their disgusting hands, and inject strange fluids into me! They… They changed us. Changed me. And now I don't even know–"
His hand was trembling in your hair as he let out a shuddering breath. You caught his eyes for only a split second, watching the brilliant purple turn into mushy darkness. Lyr shook his head as if confused while his voice trailed off, his free hand rising as he hid his face from you for a moment. You weren't sure if you were supposed to say anything, and even if, what could you say to that? You had no idea what he's been through, and even though you had your fair share of struggles in your life, you never experienced something quite as dramatic as he described. Then again, why would you try to comfort him? Lyr was perfectly able to help you in your time of need but had refused cutting the net for you again and again. Why would you give him kindness if he refused to do the same for you?
Being free of his attention, your eyes fell lower on his body. Just shy of where your tail rested over his. With his tail flipped over, you had a clear view of his collapsed dorsal fin, a pitiful sight for any creature like you. It made you think that something was wrong with him in the first place, as this was an unusual sight on any of your kinds. If what he said was true, maybe this experience had done this to him, understandably so, as it sounded awful. You couldn't bring yourself not to pity him despite your negative feelings towards him. 
Next to you, Lyr took a deep breath, pushing his short hair out of his face before he searched for your gaze. Desperately. Needy. Somewhere to ground him. You weren't sure what you saw in the darkened violet, but his features looked drained of vitality, as if the moment of silence had exhausted him completely. It made him look… vulnerable. But then he smiled again, his eyes lit up, and the strange feelings swirling in his irises were covered by excitement as he found yours, soaking in the sight before him.
"I really do get it now," he admitted, grin parting his lips, revealing his protruding upper left fang, the sharpest of them all. "I was so confused about the strange looks Nerrocan gave the human, but I realize I've been the same with ya—whatever it means. I keep coming back here just to see you. I want to stay right here with you, forever. Just us two. I'll hunt for us and make this cave pretty. Whatcha think, lil' dolphin?" 
"N-No, I don't think that will work," you mumbled, averting your eyes again as his gaze became too intense to keep up the eye contact. He seemed to drill into you as if to excavate your soul and lay it bare for him to tease and enjoy. You didn't like it one bit when he looked at you so intensely. 
You could tell by now that he was working himself into another ramble, but you didn't like how much it focused around you. Usually, he was complaining about his situation in his pod and how much his mom hounded him with expectations. Lately, his rants focused more on the human and Nerrocan and the waves their arrival and disappearance caused in their family. But while he was always strange when it came to you, being the sole focus of his attention felt uncomfortable. 
"I'm not sure I understand, but my pod is probably searching for me, and I've been away for so long already. They probably miss me terribly! If- If only I could get the net off, I wouldn't have to bother you at all! I'd be gone before you know it, and you wouldn't have to look after me! I'd be fine! Maybe you can try cutting it again with your claws, or… or maybe--"
Lifting your torso from the ground, you grabbed the net at its highest point, tugging at it and trying to loosen it up. You realized it was you who was rambling this time, but the conversation had taken a turn that you didn't want to make reality at all cost. You couldn't imagine yourself being this guy's pretty little cave warmer for all eternity, preferring the roughness of your own kind over his madness. Orcas weren't known to be gentle housemakers, no matter how much Lyr tried to sell it to you. Not even when he handled you gently, yet never did what you wanted. 
However, you were surprised when he reached down to the net, yanking at it with you. A yelp escaped you as he pulled your tail over his, the net cutting into your flesh painfully as he twisted and pulled until you had to fold up your tail, getting more and more caught. Nets usually weren't as much of a problem to sirens, but this one was sturdier and heavier than any fishing net you had encountered in your long life. 
So when Lyr caught your hands in it, you began to panic. 
"Wait! I'm getting wrapped up in it! Please stop, this isn't helping!" Your plea was ignored as Lyr slung the grating material over your wrists a few more times, ignoring your thrashing and panic with the calm of someone who had all the time in the world. Who had nothing to fear, especially not you. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to make him understand you wanted to get out of the net and not strung up in it more until he was done messing with you, flipping you over and pulling you close against him.
"That's not what I meant," you sobbed as he rested his head on top of yours, only cushioned by the arm he lent you as a headrest. 
"Isn't this so much better?" he asked, feigning innocence. But you couldn't believe his audacity to make you even more miserable. It was as if he wanted to make you as miserable as he was. "This way, you can't leave without my help. And I doubt your little pod will find you here."
"I just want to go home," you mumbled, anger slowly overtaking as the panic subsided. Your hands were bound tightly, your fin being the one hurting when you tried to lift them and vice versa. You felt truly trapped, and that made you angry rather than sad. It was strange, considering how, just a few minutes ago, you had almost pitied this male, but now, all you felt was rage.
"It's your home, now. Our home. We'll live here, unbothered by others. Just the two of us."
"It's not my home! Let me go!" you snapped, lips pulled back in a snarl. Dolphins were by far not the scariest predators, but your teeth were sharp and threatening as well! 
Or so you thought.
Lyr laughed at your display of a threat, seemingly amused that you were still fighting him. Without warning, he raised his hand to your face, squeezing both sides of your jaw until the pressure forced you to open it, and stuck his pointer and middle finger inside. He only needed these two to press your tongue down, your mouth wide agape with his claws scarily close to the back of your throat. You tried to close your jaw, bite down until he'd retract his hand, but Lyr didn't care. He didn't even mind your teeth digging into his flesh, leaving cute little cuts against his slick skin. 
"Careful, lil' dolphin. You're not in a position to make such scary demands of me, don't you know that already? I could kill ya." 
Unafraid of getting hurt, the pressure on your lower jaw increased, fingers purposely impaling themselves on your teeth while pain made you jolt as you felt your jaw dislodging slowly. You wiggled your trapped body, gurgling against his fingers before finally looking up at him as best as possible from your position, noticing the smug grin on his face. 
"I won't, of course."
Pulling his fingers out of your mouth, dragging out the motion until the last moment, you coughed, the taste of his blood on your tongue. There was no time to recover as Lyr nuzzled his face into the side of yours, oblivious to the thrumming in your jaw as you tried to relax it while the blood flow resumed. 
"You're too much fun alive, so I won't kill you," he admitted, grabbing your hands that rested against your chest and pulling them down, elevating some of the strain on your tail, and you finally breathed out. "But if you want to get rid of the net, maybe we can find a way to make this even more fun?"
You felt his lips sink to your cheek, your jawline, then trailing down your neck. A kiss for every one of your gills. The water around you was gentle and warm, but at that moment, it was like jumping into the ice-cold ocean after sunbathing on the surface, shocking and shivering through every bone of yours. 
While the arm your head rested on wrapped around your collarbones, holding on to your shoulder, the other hand started to wander lower. His fingers played around with the net, cutting through some of the squares until he could stick his hand through it, placing his palm on your stomach before sinking it dangerously low and pulling your hands down with it. So you wouldn't be able to grasp his arm on top, trying to make him stop as Lyr nibbled on your earlobe, the protruding fang drawing blood that he licked up without hesitation.
"Stop that!" you complained as his touch grew uncomfortably intimate, the pain in your jaw reverberating as you spoke. It had long dawned on you what his definition of 'fun' was, but you weren't as naive as to believe he'd actually stick to his word and cut you loose after getting what he wanted. It was better not to risk it than risk it for nothing. Your kind wasn't known to be gentle to their chosen lovers, but you never thought about mating with an orca. It wasn't normal! Wasn't what you were made to do! And if you were to survive it… you didn't want to think of the carnage that all of him would leave behind on your body. 
If his size was any indication, you were sure you couldn't take him without getting absolutely ruined in the process—and not the pleasurable kind of destroyed. More the ripped apart and bleeding out type. 
His hand found your slit, fingertip brushing lightly yet incessantly over it, leaving a tingling trail in its wake. You whimpered, ashamedly so, but instead of the expected mockery, you felt his chest rumble, a purr reaching your ears. It was soothing, relaxing, his body warming you from behind even as you desperately tried to deny feeling anything from his touch. 
But Lyr wasn't stingy with his surprises.
A chirp so oddly familiar resounded behind you, yet you were sure you had never heard that voice before. It took you a moment of complete stillness to realize it had been Lyr making that sound, yet it wasn't orca. It was dolphin. "How did you…?" you gasped, ignoring his inquisitive fingers prodding at your entrance, begging to be let in without having to use force.
"There's nothing I wouldn't do for you, lil' dolphin," he hummed, imitating some more whistles and clicks that were perfect and comforting, like the calls of your pod, yet were spoken by an uncanny voice. You felt the tears well up in our eyes again, as you couldn't help but gasp, following it with a moan, his finger slipping into you, teasing the soft, warm flesh awaiting him there. Lyr let out an appreciative sound that made your core clench with desire, all praise and all dolphin for letting him in. 
"You don't even like me," you gasped, hands wringing in the net. You were completely and utterly caught in this trap, and he had free range to your body while slowly gaining access to your very soul by imitating your own kind's calls of desire and adoration. Lyr's mouth pulled taut in a big grin as he felt you unwillingly relax and shudder in his arms, your tail buckling into his hand. You looked up to see the madness dance with satisfaction and need in his eyes before he leaned down to kiss you.
"That's where you're wrong, lil' dolphin," he chuckled, kissing you one more time, long and with relish, his fingers playing with you, adding one after the other as you loosened up to him, exploring the depths not meant for an orca.
"I like you very, very much."
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Note
Hello! I had a hc/drabble/whatever format you see fit request with an already established relationship Neville Longbottom x gn!reader
It’s during Nevilles wavy/fluffy hair era, and reader is just low key obsessed with his hair. They just like running they’re fingers through it and nuzzling their face into it when they cuddle.
He just looks so cozy and soft, and I’m 5’4” so he could absolutely just act as a whole pillow or blanket when snuggling 😭
BRAIDS - NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM
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  ੈ✩‧₊˚ FANDOM: harry potter
  ੈ✩‧₊˚ FORMAT: long/short fic
  ੈ✩‧₊˚ WARNINGS: i had too much fun with the evolution of nevilles hair
  ੈ✩‧₊˚ SUMMARY: a sweet cuddling session with neville
masterlist || harry potter masterlist || navigation
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You had always loved Nevilles hair. Since you had known him for years, before you went to Hogwarts, you had seen its entire evolution.
Long and tangled, buzzcut, silky and at the length of his chin, and finally, your favourite, soft, fluffy, and wavy.
You could run your hands through his hair all day, finger combing it and making it even silkier than it already is.
And, right now, that’s exactly what you were doing, running your hands through his soft hair while you guys cuddled in the Gryffindor common room.
It was around 12AM, and usually you two would be asleep right now, but your brain had decided to give you nightmares, and your boyfriend decided to make you feel better.
“Nev?” You softly asked, nuzzling your face into his hair, “Are you awake?”
He turned around to face you, tiredly smiling.
“Yes?” He asked, gently cupping your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb.
You didn’t answer him at first, you just continued running your hands through his hair, gazing deeply and lovingly into his green eyes.
“You really like my hair, don’t you?” He quietly asked, pulling you into his arms, acting as a pillow when you leaned your entire weight into him.
“I do.” You answered, smiling into his chest.
After a few more moments of having a conversation while cuddling and him occasionally kissing the top of your head, you realized that you had to go back to your dorm, and he his. With a long and dramatic sigh, you looked up at him.
His smiling face turned into concern when he saw your disappointed expression.
“Is everything alright?” He asked, analyzing your face to make sure you were really okay.
“Yeah, but we have to go back to our dorms before we get in trouble.” You uttered sadly.
He sat up, you following not even a second after.
“But, before we do,” You began, eyes meeting his, “can I braid you hair? I’ve wanted to for awhile.”
He nodded encouragingly with a grin growing on his face, quickly slipping onto the floor in front of you.
As you braided his hair, you were obsessing over how soft and wavy it was. If you could, you would run your hands through it forever, and you really wanted to.
When you finished the soft and wavy braid, you waited a few seconds to savour the moment before alerting him.
“I’m finished.”
He raised a hand, and felt the braid.
He turned around to face you, his face all lit up and giddy.
“Y/N!” He happily whisper-shouted, “I love it! Why’d you wait so long to ask me to braid it?”
You blushed, your hair falling into your face.
“Well, I was scared you would say no. I’m super glad you like it, though-”
Your face flushed further when he reached up and pushed the hair out of your face.
He stood up, and took your hands in his soft ones.
“Next time, I want to braid your hair. But right now, we have to get to bed.” He leaned in snd kissed your cheek, smiling against it after, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, love.”
A dopey grin plastered itself on your face, and you ran upstairs, dreaming about the next time you saw him.
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thestobingirlie · 10 months
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Hi, I'm the anon that sent the ask using the words 'borderline intellectually disabled'.
I saw in the notes what pseudokarpos (please tag them so they can see this) said, and I want to explain and apologize.
First, I really didn't mean that it was a bad thing. I know there were better ways to phrase it, but I couldn't find them. I was looking for something that would have more of an effect than just saying 'stupid' or 'dumb' because I feel that some people have started to overlook those words when used in relation to Steve, and that was what my brain came up with. I do understand it wasn't the best way to phrase it, but I just got stuck on it. I am also disabled, I have a neurological disability and words can be hard sometimes because of it. This isn't an excuse, just an explanation.
Second, as I said, I didn't mean it as a bad thing, I just meant that Steve wasn't. That I wanted people to stop acting like he was to make Eddie, and everyone else, seem smarter.
Some people, even if they don't use the words 'intellectually disabled' do write Steve as if he is, often to make everyone else seem much smarter than he is, and they way they treat him for it and the way they have other characters treat him for it is really bad. I have seen so much ableism surrounding Steve's intelligence, and I do want people to stop using intelligence as some kind of moral compass.
And the last thing is, I am sorry for phrasing it like that. I really didn't mean to cause any offence with it, and I'm sorry that I used wording that could be harmful. I am learning and trying to do better. I don't think I can find the right words here, but I am working to unlearn the ableist language, and to unpack the internalised ableism I do have.
(same anon, just more thought after I sent that first ask)
I possibly should have phrased the initial point as 'stop making Steve borderline intellectually disabled just to make everyone else seem smarter' or 'stop acting like Steve's intelligence is so low that he adds nothing to the group, and stop overlooking the points in the show that prove his intelligence, like him being the one to figure out where the Russians were broadcasting from'
Again, I am sorry for not thinking through the words I used more before sending the ask yesterday.
hey, kudos for reaching back out. honestly i’d assumed that there wasn’t any harm meant by the comment, but i’m glad you came back and clarified, and that we’re getting to continue this conversation.
i totally agree that some people write steve’s character as having a disability only to then treat his character with utter disregard, ableism, and take away all of his bodily autonomy. steve having a disability can be an incredible hc, and it’s honestly tragic that people often use it solely to portray him as less capable intellectually than the other characters. which is obviously part of a longer conversation, and i won’t get into it now.
@pseudokarpos thank you for starting this conversation, because i really think the ableism in the fandom is something we need to address, and watch in our language.
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That episode wasn’t nearly as good as it sounded in the spoilers. The spoilers made it sound like it would be more about Ollie’s funeral. Instead, the episode focused mainly on Faith, and on the show STILL asking us to view her as a good, sympathetic person AFTER SHE LITERALLY TRIED TO STRANGLE A TEENAGE BOY FOR MAKING A MISTAKE. What the FUCK.
I’m convinced the show and the fandom would let Faith get away with literal murder at this point. I mean, hell, she nearly did tonight - all her yelling about how Tristan could’ve killed Natalia through what he was doing, but Tristan didn’t know how dangerous it was. Faith DID. She knew full well that she could have SERIOUSLY hurt Tristan or possibly even killed him. And she didn’t CARE.
So, fandom - am I allowed to call Faith an abuser yet? Do I get to do that? Or will any tweet I make calling her an abuser continue to get me endless replies from Faith fans saying I’m being overdramatic and all her actions ever have been 100% justified? Probably the latter. They forgave her for attempted rape and gladly victim-blame Lev for it. They’ll forgive her for this.
How fucking much can the show let her get away with? Trying to rape Lev. Outing Lev in front of all of his colleagues. Using Dylan, tricking him into thinking she loved him when she actually just wanted to use him for revenge on Lev. Neglecting her kids enough that one of them got kidnapped and nearly molested. Falsely accusing a patient of raping his wife a few months back. Bullying a grieving father for actions his son did that he had no part in. And now strangling a teenager. Faith is literally a criminal and an abuser. And everyone’s fine with it because she happens to be an attractive, white woman. (Seriously - can you imagine any of the women of colour the show has had doing even one of these things and getting away with it, let alone the whole list? No. And we know they wouldn’t, because Tina is right there, and was rightfully portrayed as a horrible person for her abuse of Jacob. Whereas Faith is portrayed as sympathetic. WTF is this double standard, Casualty??)
It comes to something that Faith’s 17-year-old daughter has more common sense than her - the scene where Faith was screaming at David and Natalia had to step in and beg her mum to stop... poor Natalia, she’s not the one who should be acting the role of the parent here.
Anyway, moving onto David’s storyline. Jason Durr is as brilliant as ever. I’m going to keep saying this: give Jason Durr a BAFTA. He’s incredible. Casualty are so lucky to have him.
Dylan setting up Ollie’s funeral on David’s behalf was so sweet. Honestly, even if you don’t ship them romantically (which I didn’t before but the Johnrik parallels are kind of starting to get to me...), I think we all have to agree that David and Dylan are soulmates of some kind at this point. I’m glad they’re getting scenes again, even if I wish it wasn’t in a storyline like this.
(Also, they continue to strongly parallel my Johnrik fics.)
The scene with David and the little girl in the cupboard... gah. By far the best part of the episode. Genuinely made me cry, that scene did.
Speaking of the little girl, though, I’m not really sure what the point of her story was... well I know the point was so David could be recognised by the parent (again, I’ve written a fic where Henrik was recognised as Fredrik’s dad before!) and then have the conversation in the cupboard, but still.
And the ending of the episode, with David walking away from the church... :(
Also, moral of the story tonight: don’t play with swords, kids. It’s not a good idea. 🤣
I’m pretty sure there’s no episode next week, though there’s supposed to be a double episode on the 16th. See you all for another Casualty review then. In the meantime, I think I’ll be making some David/Dylan gifs.
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ciaossu-imagines · 5 months
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Sure thing 💕 And don’t worry about it sounding silly, it’s how you feel and that’s what’s important. And you are absolutely succeeding. I love brutal honesty when it comes down to stuff like that. I’m looking forward to reading those stories when you also post them. Especially the Bandō story and Ever Young because the Bandō story left on such a cliffhanger and I’m intrigued about everything that will happen in the Ever Young story. And that paranormal investigation team sounds interesting. Do you think you’ll continue it one day? And I’m really glad you’re getting happier by the day because you absolutely deserve that, no matter what. You’re not. Though I actually don’t tend to stop and just continue writing it. Like when I did that horrible thing at the beginning of my last arc, I was crying my eyes out while writing everything since I was in the flow, knew what I wanted to write and don’t want to stop it. Though there have been other times where I’m fangirling because of something that’s happening in my story and then I do stop to calm myself down 😅 Yeah. I generally reread my stories at least once before I post them but because this one is so long and it means a lot to me, I’m gonna reread it twice. Though before that, I plan on posting another story which is much shorter and I’m unable to get around to rereading it, which sucks. Though now the plan is to reread it close to the day I plan on posting it and hope I go through with it. That’s dedicated. But yeah, I understand that since it’s quite normal to want your stories to be as perfect as can be.
Yeah. Like even if she messed up, Haruki would calmly tell her in what way she did and once that conversation’s over, he’d smile at her and would ask her whether she wants to do anything. Also, since Haruki’s morality is a dark shade of grey, he wouldn’t be mad at Sumiko if she did something’ ‘wrong’, but would still tell her to be careful Yeah. Like all those babies are in their sixties now and Sumiko is four by the end of the story so they’d be seventy-something by her teenage years. Yeah. Yata is one of my few favourite characters that doesn’t die or come into mortal danger or anything like that and I’d like to keep it that way. And I see. Writing fluff is a good general way to get around it. Like after an angsty plotline, I generally write something more cheerful or at the very least less heavy. Thank you so much. And unfortunately, most blogs I follow of the fandoms we share are hardly ever active. Yeah, I saw KHR won the poll by quite a lot. And you’re getting through it fast. I like saw on Wikipedia that it’s 302 episodes so probably loads of chapters. Yay, Jujutsu Kaisen. Be warned, there is much pain in the second season but it’s still so good. How far did you make it?
Of course. You have a life outside of Tumblr after all.
C
You are so nice and sweet as always! I really do appreciate you. And thanks for looking forward to it. I do plan on finishing up the Shouhei one first, just because it was further along, but I do want to get most of the askbox cleared, finish a commission, and really be up to writing long fic and feel confident in it before I finish the last two of those things. Then comes Bandou! And I probably will dabble with the paranormal investigation one first in my spare time, just for me, to get comfortable writing long fic again…if it's just for me, then I don't need to worry if it sucks, after all. And I cannot write and cry, haha. I am not a quiet or calm cryer. I don't cry long but when I do, it's all out sobbing. Now I can fangirl and still write because that makes me wanna put the words down faster and faster and get it done and out. And I hope you do go through with it as I am sure you did a fantastic job and it's a lovely story!
And I love the fact that these really nice, kind characters do have that morally grey side to them because it gives them this nice complexity and depth. And see, I have a problem of either ignoring Yata or killing him far more than I should, so it's probably a really good thing I don't write a lot for him outside of specific requests. And yeah, really light is needed after a good angst fest and it's normally when I start asking for match up requests because those make me feel really good and relaxed and light. And I am getting that impression. It seems like ask blogs/imagine blogs have kind of died out for either the fandoms I enjoy or just in general here on tumblr so I'm wondering if my number of followers is there mostly because I'm one of the few surviving ones haha. As for KHR, there's about 403 chapters, so I'm almost half-way through, but that is because I did skip the Daily Life arc this time…mostly because I know it and it's really kind of a slog to get through, so it always slows me down. I'm probably not going to rewatch the entire series as well, but am definitely going to check out the filler arcs because, while I'm normally a downer on filler episodes, I actually really enjoyed the fillers for KHR. And something tells me there's going to be so much pain in Jujutsu Kaisen period. It just seems that sort of story where there are absolutely NO guarantees that characters will survive, no matter how important they seem.
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(!!) Letters to Fabi Alonso #13
July 19, 2022
You know, last night, my mother brought you up again, for whatever reason.
I ended up telling her everything and crying. It was kind of embarrassing.
And I guess, she told me a lot of things I already knew.
Mostly, I guess I apologize for trying to reach out to you again. I can’t deny that I got really desperate and needed, well, something, but you asked for me to stay away and I should respect that.
I don’t know why you deleted your twitter accounts. Maybe it was so that I couldn’t ever find you again. Maybe it was because of whatever you’re going through right now. Maybe a mix of both.
I really did think that if you got upset, we’d have a talk and work it out. But despite how much I’ve been saying I hope things get better for you, I suppose I didn’t consider just how much it couldn’t been affecting you emotionally. It must’ve been draining enough to deal with my situation. Of course I couldn’t expect you to have that sort of patience and heart to talk to me, when I hurt you.
From my position, I can’t understand why my age is this big of a deal. But I’ve been hanging around fandom long enough, seen enough PSAs and whatnot, to know that it is a very big deal for many. I think I just never thought of it as a real thing.
And the thing is, you had boundaries from the very start, boundaries that you let me into when you first saw my fake age. Boundaries that I then overstepped, caught up in my act that I’ve been playing in for, well, forever.
And still, I can’t say that I regret having lied. Because then I wouldn’t have been able to become friends with you.
Although I’ve been starting to think more and more. If I could have never become close to you to spare myself this heartbreak.... I don’t know.
After our daily jimi watching, the next day, I actually tried hard to keep the discord chat alive, and so that we would keep talking. It didn’t take much. Now I wonder, if we stayed mostly just as twitter mutuals without all of the time and conversations that made me love you, would you still have left? Would it hurt less?
...Even if, if there wasn’t this thing about my age, maybe you would’ve become more distant with time. That’s something I had thought about. Especially since you’ve been struggling with something lately.
Before I made my post, those 6 days we didn’t talk, it’s definitely not as if you were so busy you didn’t have the chance to pick up the phone once. For you to have gone so long without responding, you really must have been too emotionally drained for everything.
Even if, let’s pretend, that your life was going perfectly fine, and you found out about my secret. Maybe you would’ve at least heard me out before cutting me off. Maybe not.
But these two things combined together must’ve been really, really bad. I’m sorry.
You know, during those days, as the overthinker I am, at some point I reached the conclusion “what if you died?”
Well, the answer is that I’d never know, but get more anxious as every day passes. I’d continue to live my normal life, fandom and otherwise, waiting to hear from you everyday. I’d keep our memories alive.
And for all I’m glad that at least physically, you’re doing fine, now I can’t continue doing what I was before, nor keep the memories I had with you alive. Because it hurts.
Actually, shit, it’s been 13 days. I have no idea if you’re still alive.
Remember what I said before, about how the plan was to reveal myself when I was 20 or 21? My idea would be that it wouldn’t be as bad then, if you’d known me as an adult for longer than me as a child.
I’ve realized that I completely ignored the fact that it’s not just my age that’s the problem. About half of it is also that I lied.
And the closer people are, the more it hurts when there’s a lie. If you’d known me for 3 or 4 years and then was told I’d been lying to you for that long, well, it wouldn’t be worse for me than it is now, but you could’ve been hurt so much more.
But the thing is, right now I’m so, so scared of each passing day. I’m scared of how fast time goes. How every day is another day that puts our friendship behind.
I wonder if you’d ever thought what I would say in reply, after your goodbye. Did you think I’d beg you and try to explain myself? Or do something like what I did? Or something else? What would your reaction have been, if I begged you? You wouldn’t have responded either way, that’s for sure, but it definitely would’ve roused emotions, whatever those might be.
You’re just as out of reach and in the past as someone who did die, but I can’t mourn you, and it’s my fault.
I’m petty and awful, like I always am, and so part of my wishes that, just like me, everywhere you turn reminds you somehow of me. That you keep accidentally thinking of me, that I haunt you, and you have to convince yourself that coming back to me isn’t worth it. I hope you’re at least some degree miserable, for all how miserable I am. I hope you miss me.
But I’ve, already caused you so much trouble. And you’re already in so much pain.
If we’re talking an eye for an eye, maybe my current miserable state is simply payback for your betrayed feelings and uncomfort.
And I love you, so I do wish for you to be happy.
You know, my mother asked me, whether or not I think you knew just how damn much you meant to me. I have no idea.
Maybe to you, my relationship to you was pretty surface level and easily built up, and just as easily destroyed. Maybe you thought that to me, you were just a convenient place to go to, and one who would indulge me and let me talk about my interests. Maybe you thought I treated you just like a regular person on the internet, that there’s no way I’d actually cry over you.
Maybe what your idea of how I thought of you, was how you thought of me.
It’s likely that to you, I was all of the above. You indulged me like how I’ve been talking to some of my mutuals, a fun and easy way to relax, and place to talk, appreciative but not a deep level of care.
This isn’t to say “If you cared about me you would’ve stuck around”, because you should always put what’s best for you ahead of everything else.
But simply, I don’t think I meant as much to you, as you mean to me.
And that’s okay. I’m glad I made you happy for a while.
Or maybe this is all very rude because you care just as much, and it broke your heart to send me off.
Whatever.
I still keep assuming that you’ll come back to fandom one day, when things are good for you again. Or, better. I still keep fantasizing that maybe one day far off in the future, if I manage to get there, I’ll see a message from you again.
Maybe none of those things are true.
If you really never want to see me again, Fabi, I’ll try to respect that. I’ll try. I really miss you, but hey, if my email to you was spam the first time, it’ll be spam a second time. If you saw it and didn’t say anything the first time, you won’t say anything the second time.
...If you saw the email and read these letters. Or are reading these letters. I can only hope you’re doing so because you’re doing better.
I really need to consider more about what’s good for you, because I’m the one who did something wrong here.
I have so much more to say. I don’t think I could ever stop having thoughts I need to tell you.
If you are feeling better, and we could talk, if you could just hear me out and provide some input. Even if the end is still that this is the end, then fine, I’ll just cry again.
But I just, I really wish you knew what I thought.
I wish you’re happy. Goddamn you better be happy, or else me being in so much despair is all useless.
- Your Ex-Zhiji, Avro Lanca
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grapecaseschoices · 3 years
Text
Representation in IF (or the lack thereof)
In recent days, the topic of race and ethnicity - as well as treatment of marginalized communities within IFs and their fandoms - has been the premier point of conversation. It has become paramount for people of color, lately, to advocate for themselves in regards to issues of white washing, stereotypes, and white people (...and sadly, other people of color) feeling too comfortable using slurs.
Nothing new there.
As I saw someone recently point out, this is something that crops up every two months. And if you’ve been on tumblr for that length of time, in more than more than one fandom, this is likely something you’ve had to deal with several times within that space of time. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of being a fan of color. (And, often, any type of minority, period.)
We don’t get to escape within the internet into fantasy the same way the “majority” gets to do so. If it isn’t toxic people in the community, it is being disappointed by content creators - either through their comments (or lack thereof) or what they put out in their work.
I can’t speak for every black person or every person of color, however, my fandom experience is one of hyper vigilance. And I’ve noticed that sort of attitude in others.  We have to cut away from certain parts of the fandom. Or cut out work we used to love because of certain outlooks or behaviors.
It is a protective attitude that I’m unapologetic about. By curating my content consumption, it’s pushed me to find, and support, artists that care enough to see people like me as people.  Someone mentioned to me that “as marginalized communities, we have a right to be choosy about our representation in media.” And I agree. We do and we should never, ever feel guilty about it. 
That being said, it can feel kind of alienating.
As I mentioned before, there’s been a continued - one I am glad for - movement in the IF/VN community in calling out bad representation (and treatment of fans).  Fans have pushed for accountability and gotten it. However, I’ve noticed - or at least, I feel - the call for change is sort of limited. There’s a hesitance in our community to ask for that same change of ‘indie’/smaller creators as we do of companies or more established writers. And, honestly, this hesitance has left me with a feeling that the IF/VN community isn’t really one for people of color, particularly black people.
Now, I’m one who tries to give credit where credit is due. The creation of ~interact-if … is probably one of the best things I have ever seen in any community (and I’ve been in fandom/written rpg since HS). I’ve also noticed an increase of writers of color feeling comfortable in writing for their culture or having characters of their culture as well as white creators holding themselves accountable. All of that is what keeps me hopeful about improvement regarding IF works but motivates me to one day do my own. That being said, there is still a lot that needs to be addressed regarding the whiteness of IF work and the depiction of characters of color.
I am going to start off by saying something that may come off as kind of harsh. If you know me, you know what I’m going to say, so you can clock out. If you don’t, take a deep breath, feel frustrated, and then let it go to move on: I don’t think uncomfortability with writing about a marginalized group or unfamiliarity with said group is an excuse. I don’t think “well it’s my work, this is what I know/this is what I want to write” is an excuse. 
IF works in the year 2021 are uncomfortably, awkwardly white (and able-bodied, cis, thin, etc). And I do not think there is ANY excuse, ANY actual reason for it to be that way.
I am sure there are several excuses coming to mind (as I said, I’ve been in RP and fanfic for years, I’ve seen them all—heck, I’ve thought them all. I still do think them at times). However, I’ve always held to the belief that every work that is put out into the universe matters. Everything has an impact.  NO work is too small, nothing is too insignificant. Every art has an effect. And if you’re writing a story, telling a tale, something from your heart to share with others you’re trying to affect your environment in some way, you’re trying to say something.
I feel a lot of us—as I said, I include myself in this too—do not consider what we’re saying to our audience when we create works that are mostly white (or when we can’t have a single character or work with numerous characters that are disabled, fat, mentally ill, trans, I can go on). 
If you’re writing a story, I don’t think you can give yourself any pats on the back for having one or two characters of color. I think we’ve moved beyond that type of ‘diversity by numbers’ … especially when the numbers are often piss poor.  I’m seeing IFs where there are three characters of color to six white ROs. Not only is that ‘ratio’ (for lack of a better word) shitty on it’s own, people don’t consider that the actual dynamic is 1:1:1:6. People of color are not a monolith. I, as a black Haitian-American woman, may have similar experiences as an indigenous woman from Canada and a persian person from Iran …. But we are not the same. Yes, it is great to have a diversity of characters. I’m not saying you shouldn’t include people from different backgrounds in your works.
But please consider why it is never the case that there are two Japanese-Brazilians, three black people from Manchester, and a mixed-race Indigenous/Afro-Latina from Queens, and one white person. It is extremely rare to see multiple of one race or ethnicity in an IF if that race isn’t white.
I feel not only is that problem, I believe it is a conversation that needs to be had. Both as a community and as something writers discuss with themselves, as they review their work. 
And that is the tip of the iceberg. We need to have discussions on the tendency of characters of color to have light colored eyes, or the preference of East Asians (and light skinned ones at that) over any other Asian, or the ambiguously brownness of descriptors. We need to talk about white-washing in face claims that directly oppose established descriptions, or how Artbreeder being bad at black people is NOT an excuse for your black character looking similar to the one in three different other IFs (put the effort in). 
We as a community need to have several discussions or else I feel it will be another five years before we’re dragging our feet toward better representation. And that shouldn’t be the case. At all. 
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harleysarchive · 4 years
Text
Among You and Me - Corpse Husband x reader oneshot
Fandom: Corpse Husband, youtubers Warning: Swearing, me being in a good mood when I wrote it so a happy, positive reader, alcohol, hangovers, comfidence boost Pairing: Corspe x reader Summary: You got some extra confidence after having a couple of drinks and write a message to Corpse during his live stream, he answeres you messages and everything continues from there.
Next >
A/N: I was in a super good mood when I started to write this and it shows, I’m sorry if it’s annoying and I don’t know if it’s shit but yeaah. Enjoy! :D
You were watching Corpse Husbands stream among us and was just having a good time. You had had a couple of drinks before the stream so you were in such a great mood. You melted every time he laughed because he couldn’t do the card swipe and just thought of how adorable he was. In your intoxicated mindset you got a confidence boost and opened the stream chat and also instagram. In the stream chat you donated 10$ and wrote “you are the most adorable person on this planet and you deserve the world! Thank you for exciting, love y/n” and hit enter, and also doing the same on Instagram on private messages.
He won’t see that, you thought to yourself and turned on some music to match your good mood and after a while forgetting about your stream that was on. Some days life is just great!
You had fallen asleep and woke up with a hangover, all the positive feelings you had yesterday were gone and now you just wanted to stay in bed all there with some aspirins. Looking at your phone seeing that nothing interesting had happened. You were scrolling through your feed on instagram and saw that you had an unanswered message. You opened it and saw that it was from Corpse.
You flew up in your bed and were staring at your phone.
I can’t believe he answered me, you said. Your hands were shaking and you were too nervous to open the message. Maybe he was annoyed with you for messaging him. Nooo he seems like a nice guy so I don’t think he is.
You opened the message and it read:
“Thank you for your kind words! I saw your donation and the message, means a lot 🖤”
You buried your face into the pillow and screamed for all that you were worth. He answered. You also felt ridiculous for reacting like this but there is no hindering the fangirl when she is out.
Your fingers were shaking but you wanted to reply so badly.
“Thank you! I can’t believe that you actually answered or noticed my message, it made my day honestly. Can’t wait for more content from you!” You hit send and left the bed. You had things to do today and if you were home you were only going to look at your phone all day to see if he would answer you. So to not get tempted you left your phone at home.
You came back to your apartment in the afternoon and we’re dying to check your messages. So you unlocked your phone and went straight to messages. Nothing. You felt a pang of disappointment but you tried to not dwell on it. He had probably many girls messaging him how much they love him and so on. You went to the kitchen and started to cook some dinner. But when you were preparing some vegetables you got a ding from your phone. You went over and saw that you had a message on Instagram. From Corpse. Your heart first stopped and then sped up like crazy. He answered you again! Wtf?!
“That's so kind of you to say, thank you! There will be a new stream tomorrow :)”
“Omg I’m gonna die” you said. Well if you died now you would be okay with it because you had been noticed by Corpse not once but twice.
“Yay can’t wait! I will be glued to the screen!” You answered and immediately felt embarrassed by your response.
Two days later you were waiting for the stream to begin. You had bought some of your favorite ice-cream in honor for tonight. The stream started and you heard Corpse say multiple times that he was super nervous and a shitty impostor. You felt your heart melt for him, he is so sweet and precious. You donated money to him and wrote “you don’t have to be nervous, you are doing great! It’s super entertaining! Love y/n” and hit send. You saw your donation in the chat.
“”you don’t have to be nervous, you are doing great! It’s super entertaining! Love (y/n)” thank you (y/n), that means a lot to hear right now. And I remember your picture from Instagram. Nice to see that you are watching the stream.”
The ice-cream you were about to eat dropped to the floor and you just sat there with an open mouth. He remembered your picture. HE FUCKING REMEMBERED YOUR PICTURE!
The rest of the stream was a fog in your memory because you were still stuck on the moment that he remembered you from your profile picture. Nothing could top that. Nothing. When the stream ended you turned of your computer and were of to bed. But there was no way in hell that you were going to fall alseep after something like that. Your phone lit up again and you saw that you had a new message from instagram. You opened up the app and it was from Corpse!
“I hope you liked the stream today :)” he wrote and again your heart raced like crazy. 
“I did it was super entertaining to watch! I think you are an incredible impostor.” you hit send. Not long after you got a reply.
“Thanks, I am very nervous during the streams and I hope that is not annoying or it bothering those who are watching it.”
“Not at all, well at least for me. I think it makes you more genuine when you confess that you can get nervous even though you are a big youtuber 😊”
 “Well I’m not a big youtuber... but it’s nice to read all your kind words in the chat. It makes me happy.”
“I’m glad that we can help you feel better, and I mean every word I’m sending you.”
You saw that he started to reply, but you had to go to sleep so you turn off the phone and closed your eyes. Surprisingly enough you fell asleep quite quickly, and woke up by the sun hitting your face. Fall has jsut begun and the leaves were turning every beautiful colour of red, yellow and orange. When you brain had woken up more you remembered that Corpse had started to reply to your message. You quickly grabbed your phone and went on instagram. A new message, 8 hours ago. 
Shit, you thought and opened it. It was just a smiley face and nothing else. A little disappointed but then you saw the conversation that the two of you had had. You actually talked to him and he had replied instantly. Your brain must’ve given you some weird confidence and stable fingers at that moment. You didn’t really know what to reply so you just let it be and you didn’t want to annoy him with spamming his dm’s either - but you really, really wanted to.
Corpse POV.
Another day and another sleepless night. That is just my life right now. But the streams helped them make it a little less agonizing. Especially the nice comments I get from everyone and the conversation I had with one of the fans. What was her name again? (Y/N). Right. I wonder if she has answered my message.
I opened up instagram and opened our conversation. Read but no answer. To be fair I only sent a smiley to her. But... Why am I feeling so anxious that she left me on read?
“Yooo, care to hang out today?” Dave sent a message. I answered with a sure and locked my phone and waited for Dave to arrive to my house. But my mind kept on going back to why she didn’t answer me back. Well I know why, but I didn’t like that the conversation were over so quick. 
Dave entered my house and we hung out for a while but he could sense that something was bothering me.
“Hey man, you okay?”
I snapped out of my thought and looked at him. 
“Yeah, I’m fine. Except from the usual shit.”
“You sure? You seem a little... lost in thoughts perhaps? Is something bothering you?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head.
“Not even the kind girl from your streams?” he asked with a knowing smirk on his face. I lost all the colour on my face. HOW DID HE KNOW?
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
“Not even that you recognized her picture from instagram? Like that you haven’t talked to her there?”
Fuck...
“Who is she?”
“A fan that contacted me and were very kind with her words. And I replied to her and after that we have been messaging each other here and there... but she left me on read last night so I guess that’s over...”
“What did you say to her?”
“I sent a smiley because I was too nervous to say anything else.”
Dave made the biggest and loudest face palm. It must’ve hurt his head. 
“You idiot... You can’t expect a reply if you only send her a smiley...”
“I know, but I got nervous.”
“Are you following her?”
“No... Not yet at least.” I said and took up my phone again and went on her profile. It was private. Of course. I hoovered over the follow button but I didn’t dare to press it. Dave gave me a thumbs up and I pressed the follow button. 
Your POV.
You were watching a Among Us highlight video on youtube when your instagram told you that you had a notification. You opened it and saw that Corpse had requested an invite to follow your profile. CORPSE WANTED TO FOLLOW YOU. Holyshitholyshitholyshit. What is even happening?! Of course you accepted it and you started to type a message to him. 
“Welcome to my little boring world. Hope you like what you see 😅”
You could see him typing something.
“I very much do ;)”
A/N: I really enjoyed writing this and I couldn’t stop. It was difficult to get started but after that it was fun :D 
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@fanworrior @wibblytimey
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thedrarrylibrarian · 2 years
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To celebrate their new direction and get some insights into the how and why the blog is changing, I invited @sitp-recs to chat with me. We knew we'd have so much fun, and didn't want to leave any patrons out, so we recorded our conversation to share. I'll be DL, in bold, and sitp-recs is SP. I hope you enjoy getting a bit of behind the scenes of how we run our blogs, finding balance in fandom, and our friendship.
DL: First of all, Happy New Year! I’m so glad we could finally sit down and chat like we’ve been trying to do for….4 months now? 5 months? Lol
SP: Happy New Year! I’m so ready for 2022. Hopefully it will be a gentler year to us all. And I know, right? It’s been months and so much has changed between then and now, but I’m happy we’re doing this to start the year. Good omens! Thanks for the invite by the way, I’m really humbled by it.
DL: You’re so welcome! I’m ecstatic to have you, so I’m glad we made it work. And a gentler and kinder year is the best wish for 2022. Did you set any New Year’s Resolutions in relation to your blog?
SP: That’s a great starting point, actually. I posted about it recently and rather than a few bullet points, mine was a long and mildly chaotic rambling lol. Rigid resolutions and numbers scare me a bit and I’m trying to take it easy this year. Mainly, I hope to keep doing what I love but find more balance along the way. I want to read more, comment more, write more single reviews and be more present for my friends. It’s kinda generic, I know, but I want to establish a low pressure environment so I can continue enjoying the blog now that it’s entering its third year.
DL: You and I have talked before about how running a fan blog, while sometimes time consuming, should always be fun. Did you feel like you’d gotten to a point where it was no longer fun this year?
DL: This year being…last year lmao. 2021.
SP: Sadly, yes. Although, to be fair, it was way more related to what I was going through in real life and less related to fandom in general. I changed jobs at the beginning of 2021 and have been dedicating a lot of time and energy to it. The first semester was a complete nightmare and I was barely able to read anything, let alone write recs. It’s particularly frustrating to watch the fandom flourish when you can’t keep up. I got overwhelmed between the buzz surrounding new fics and the pressure I put on myself to keep the blog active by posting recs and giving something back to the community. That’s when I decided to stop making reclists, as they basically took all my free time away and were adding to the stress rather than being a fun, relaxing activity.
DL: That’s something I very much relate to. As much as I’d love to read fanfic and make rec lists all day, I have other responsibilities. Finding that balance is so important. For me, it’s doing about 1 rec list a week and a Happy Hour on Fridays when I can. I’ve also stopped trying to find lost fics. I feel like that’s in more capable hands with @lostdrarryfics Sometimes I get asks that are like “I’m not sure if you are still active…” and I'm like “...I just posted last week?” and I just have to laugh. It feels like that “I'm not dead yet!” scene from Monty Python. I love putting out content and rec lists, but it’s a hobby. Sometimes real life and responsibilities take precedence, and I’ve always tried to be very honest about that. As your friend, I’m so proud of you for putting those boundaries in place and finding your balance. So now that you’re not doing rec lists, what can we expect to see on your blog?
SP: That’s exactly it, and I think that unfortunately, Tumblr gets tainted by the social media immediacy thing, considering we have so many different demographics mixed together. Everyone is at a different point in their life, and setting up boundaries can be incredibly hard when it’s about something you genuinely love to do, but it’s necessary to keep a healthy relationship with both fandom and real life responsibilities. I don’t want to rule out all reclists because I still very much enjoy making them - but I won’t be doing them on demand as I used to, probably just some specific lists like the one I did for my 2021 favorite works. Other than that, I plan to keep on boosting artworks, microfics, rare pairs and fandom fests when I can. As for the single recs, I’d really love to include older gems, as I did in 2020. When I started the blog the whole idea behind it was to celebrate both classics and lesser known works, and some of the best fics I discovered that year were published between 2010 and 2015. So I’m hoping to highlight those again, and hopefully send more readers their way.
DL: Ooooh, I love that! I think there’s so much great content that gets overlooked because of “classics” so I love finding those hidden gems.
We’ve talked about some of the stressors of running a popular fandom blog, but I certainly don’t want that to take away from how much we both love to do it. Part of the reason you’re working to find this balance is so that you can keep blogging because it does bring so much joy! What’s your favorite part about running your blog?
SP: You’re right - creating this blog was one of my best decisions and a major highlight in these otherwise dark, uncertain times we’ve been living for the past two years. Reccing, for me, is a very special kind of therapy. I love the catharsis it brings, and the way I’m able to freely express my thoughts and feelings about a work that somehow I really can’t translate when I’m leaving a comment on AO3. I love the idea of just… putting my thoughts out there, hoping to find echo but without really considering my audience or expecting something in return, if that makes sense? It’s a very liberating process and hey, I get to practice my English while I’m at it, so that’s a nice bonus! I also love interacting with both creators and fellow readers. I love getting feedback like “Wow, thanks so much for thinking of my fic. This made my day!” just as much as I love hearing “I found this fic thanks to your rec and now I’m obsessed.” It’s so incredible to think that, despite not being a creator, my words could still move someone, even if it’s just one person, and inspire them to either read that work or go and create their own. That’s real magic!
DL: That’s such a lovely answer! I completely get what you’re saying about interacting with fellow fans. Writers often make my day when I read their amazing works, so it feels so good to give that acknowledgement back to them. I love seeing their positive reactions when I’ve included someone in a reclist or featured them in a Happy Hour. It makes me happy to make them happy. You’re absolutely right - it’s a special kind of magic.
One of my favorite things about your blog is how personable you are. You always come across so warm and friendly in all of your posts. I love that. It was one of the first things I noticed when I first followed you.
SP: That’s such a lovely compliment, and the first time I really stop to think about my approach as a blog owner, but yes! I’ve always been the communicative type. I like to think I’m a welcoming presence and I try my best to come from a place of kindness and empathy while respecting my personal boundaries. I’ve always wanted the blog to feel like a safe space that respects all reading preferences, ships and tropes, even if they’re not my own. That’s why I’m so adamant about promoting rare pairs too, as I personally love so many of them. Fandom can be a very hostile space for those communities, so I try my best to stay away from any kind of toxic discussion that doesn’t belong in a positive space.
DL: I love that. I recently read a fic that had Pansy/George as a background pair and I thought it was a really fun ship (don’t worry, it’ll be on my Late Christmas List). What’s a pair that you never would’ve thought of but really enjoy?
SP: Ohh, I’m curious to check that one out! I love fanon Pansy because she’s so shippable. That’s the beauty of being in the HP fandom as a multishipper - there are so many possibilities and so many talented authors trying their hand on rare pairs. I feel really lucky to be experiencing fandom at this point in time. As for your question, a few years ago I’d never have considered reading Golden Trio fics, as in Harry/Ron, Harry/Hermione, and Harry/Ron/Hermione. I used to perceive their dynamics strictly as sibling-like friendship and could not see them interacting romantically at all. I really can’t give you a precise answer on when that changed and I felt comfortable to explore this OT3 (probably as I got more and more interested in the “friends to lovers” trope, and found a compelling summary by an author I trust and love!) but I decided to give it a shot and now I love this triad in every possible variation. I’m still a bit picky about the kind of dynamics I enjoy with most of my favorite rare pairs, so I don’t read them as often as I read Drarry!
DL: Oooh, I actually love a good triad. I haven’t looked at the prompts for @hptriadfest yet but I think they start posting in April. Maybe they’ll have something new for you to enjoy!
SP: Won’t ever deny a good threesome!
DL: One of my favorite things to ask is what are you currently reading? Both in fanfic and in real books?
SP: I’m….so very ashamed to admit that I haven’t read real books since finishing my Master’s two years ago, but I’m hoping to change that this year! Of course, the popular Captive Prince series is high on my list. I’ve seen so many artworks on Tumblr and I just know it’s going to be right up my alley - Drarry similarities and all! As for fic, I just finished oldenuf2nb’s last advent fic called The Magic Behind the Camera with photographer Harry and magazine editor Draco. It’s a lovely read for those who enjoy the identity porn trope! I’m now debating whether to pursue a long or short fic next. Any recs?
DL: Of COURSE I have a rec! I just finished a shorter fic that I really enjoyed. It’s called both that morning equally lay by @janieohio. It’s a remix of Auror Conley on the Case by @frenchmarshmalloww that was also fun. Have you read them?
SP: I haven’t! Ohh, gotta check these out ASAP! Love that summary, and 5k is a perfect length for me. God bless short fics!
DL: Don’t get me wrong - I love a long fic - but I adore short fics. I love a quick bite sized fic that I can get into and finish while I’m waiting in a line or read quickly on my lunch break at work. Also, for books, can I recommend The Guncle by Stephen Rowley? It was one of my favorite reads of 2021. It’s a pretty quick read packed with lots of bittersweet emotions and family moments.
SP: That sounds perfect, thanks so much! And I agree 100% about short fics. They’re very practical as you said, and can be just as much, if not more, nuanced and emotionally rewarding. I’ve read so many brilliant short fics in the past few years. We have some incredibly talented authors exploring shorter forms.
DL: Absolutely!
SP: I can’t believe I got recs out of this!
DL: I can’t help myself! I’m like one of those grandmas who keep trying to feed you, even if you’re not hungry. “Here honey, have another fic rec. You can pack this one up and take it with you!”
SP: It’s in our nature! We just can’t help screaming about our favorite fics and authors!
DL: Exactly! Which, speaking of! Do you want to share any favorite Drarry fics?!
SP: I think @letteredlettered's The Boy Who Only Lived Twice will always be my top favorite. I reread it all the time (despite being 50k) and get the same incomparable thrill I got when I first read it so many years ago. Lettered is definitely a personal favorite for me, the majority of their fics hit all of my boxes. Their most recent fic By the Grace is one of the most compelling, nuanced, and emotionally satisfying masterpieces I’ve ever read. Then I have to mention Far From the Tree by aideomai who pretty much blew my mind with this brilliant and devastatingly tender time travel epic - and I’m not even that invested in the 8th year trope!
DL: I loved By the Grace! I think I put it on a rec list immediately after I read it. I remember feeling like “Oh my god! Do people know about this fic!? Everyone needs to read this RIGHT NOW!”
SP: That was my reaction too! It was so mind blowing!! And so very different from Letterd’s usual style - more focused on dialogue and character development. This excerpt will always live rent free in my head:
Harry’s heart leapt into his throat, and all thoughts of solace or freedom or courage left him. “Do you mean you …” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. His hands twitched again. “You did say you remade every cell.” “Potter, you fool,” Malfoy muttered. “My body doesn’t know how to make a cell that doesn’t love you.”
DL: Ugh. What an excellent quote. With that loveliness, shall we end it there?
SP: Yeah. It’s been so lovely to chat with you! Thank you for the invite!
DL: Thank you for your time!
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whisker-biscuit · 3 years
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The Birds, The Bees, and The Bottles
Fandom: Psychonauts
Rating: T for mild language and discussions of underage drinking
Summary: Two teens are caught trying to sneak into a bar. Bob finally has a conversation he’s held off for far too long.
Because herbaphony is not the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family.
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Bob’s phone rang at two in the morning. Judging by the jolly ringtone of Helmut singing Strawberry Fields Forever, it was his personal phone instead of his work one, and that was the real tip off to things being very, very wrong.
He woke up and groggily pulled out of his still-slumbering-husband’s arms to answer the little thing going off on his nightstand.
“H’lo?”
“Bob!” Truman’s voice came out far too loud for the time of night, and far too stressed. “Bob, I’m so sorry to wake you, but something happened with Lili. I need you to pick her up for me, please.”
The older man sat up, much more awake as worry and fear immediately rolled in his gut. Helmut finally began to stir beside him, sensing his partner’s agitation.
“Truman, what’s going on? Pick Lili up from where?”
“The city’s police precinct on Abbey Avenue. She – she called me, but I’m out of state and I wouldn’t get there for hours at least even if I left this instant. She’s not in danger!” He added hastily, hearing the concern before Bob could even voice it mentally. “She didn’t get hurt! She’s just…”
The way he tapered off, the way he hesitated, said more than words could.
“She just got herself into some trouble, and she needs someone to go get her.”
Helmut was sitting up now, and Bob felt the question cross their mental link.
 What happened?
 Truman needs me to pick Lili up from the police station.
“I’m up, I’m on my way right now,” He responded to his nephew verbally, heaving himself out of bed. His husband followed suit despite still looking extremely puzzled, bless him.
“Thank you so much, Bob. I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can, I promise.”
“Don’t worry about it.” The older man waved a dismissive hand even though Truman wasn’t there to see it. “Family is s’pposed to do that for each other anyway.”
“Did I hear that right? Our peppy petunia had a run-in with the law?” Helmut asked as soon as his partner hung up. He paused, and in a lower tone – “she didn’t kill anyone, did she?”
“I don’t think it’s that serious,” Bob said, pulling a coat on over his sleep shirt. “But something tells me we still have a few things to worry about. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“Ohohoh, no, don’t even think about hoofin’ it without me. We both know I’m the better driver.”
“Neither of us are very good drivers, Helmut.”
“Exactly! That little bit makes all the difference!”
The herbophanist sighed, charmed despite himself and the situation. “Alright, alright. Let’s not keep her waiting.”
The police precinct was nearly dead at this time of night. While it would’ve felt eerie to anyone else, Bob was grateful for the lack of people, and not just because he was still an introvert of the highest degree.
Two teenagers awaited them in the lobby, sitting on a bench together. One was hunched over and burning a hole in the ground with his downcast eyes. The other sat straight up, defiant, holding a glaring contest with the officer standing over them. When Bob entered the room first and met his great-niece’s eyes, her self-assuredness wavered for a brief moment. She hid the slip-up behind a wall of indifference.
“Lili,” he said softly. Then, just as softly but with a gruff tinge of surprise; “Razputin.”
There was no accusation in his voice, but the former scowled harder and the latter looked like he wanted to employ his invisibility. Bob studied them both a moment before his husband appeared and broke the tension with his mere presence.
“We’re here to bust you out, kiddos!” He announced with spread arms, cheerfully ignoring the looks he received from every person in the room.
“Are you Truman Zanotto?” Asked the officer who finally broke his gaze away from Lili to give them a disapproving once-over.
“No, I’m uh, I’m Bob Zanotto, and this is Helmut,” came the awkward reply. “Truman called me to pick Lili up. She’s my great-niece.”
A few seconds of silence passed as the officer made no move to do anything with that information. Bob cleared his throat.
“We’re, uh, listed in her emergency contacts for school?”
“I see. If you can just fill out some paperwork first, we can release her into your custody.”
The herbophanist watched the way Raz seemed to sink further in his seat at the mention of family contacts. The Aquatos were also out of state right now too, if he remembered correctly. Perfect timing for two minors getting up to mischief.
Well, up until they were actually caught.
“And…Razputin, too?” He asked, catching the teen’s startled gaze and giving him the mental equivalent of a thumbs-up.
The officer raised a brow. “Is he related to you, too?”
“Well, uh –”
“Yep!” Helmut interrupted, strolling right up to Raz and giving him a merry clap on the back. The teen had a physique comparable to most adult Olympic athletes, but even he nearly toppled forward from the force of such a big man. “He’s my third cousin, twice removed. Big family. Very close. Holidays are an experience, lemme tell ya!”
“Fine,” the officer pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine, okay, I’ll make sure he gets cleared for release too. I’ll be right back.”
He stalked off, muttering something about it ‘being too damn early for this’, and the older couple turned to face Raz and Lili. Helmut steepled his fingers together to rest against his mustache.
“So! Now that Officer Spoil-Sport is gone, are we allowed to know what heinous crime has been committed in the night by my favorite pair of mischief-makers?”
The two glanced at each other. Raz was the one to break their silence.
“We, uh…got caught sneaking into a bar.”
Cold heat rushed through Bob’s core. Helmut blinked once, twice, then let out a boisterous chuckle.
“That’s it? Jesus! From the way you two were acting I thought you’d robbed the First National Bank.”
“…Helmut.” His husband murmured. The psi-king lost his mirth as he caught Bob’s eye.
“Ah…w-well, y’know, while I’m certainly glad we won’t hear about a righteous homicide in the news tomorrow, forgery ain’t exactly a humble hobby either.”
“It was just two IDs,” Lili muttered under her breath. “Not a big deal.”
The ice in her great-uncle’s heart turned frigid, but before he or Helmut could say anything to that, the officer was back. He shoved a handful of forms under Bob’s nose and the herbophanist fumbled to grab them before they all tumbled to the floor.
“Uh, uh, thank you.”
“Alright, we’re putting the pause on this conversation to make you free citizens again, but don’t think that means we’re done with it.” The Psi-King gave the teens the sternest look he could manage. “As soon as we get in the car, you two will have a lot of explaining to do.”
“O-Okay.”
“Uh-huh.”
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No one spoke a word as they got in the car and started the drive back.
Raz seemed content to continue his efforts to blend in with the background of his seat, still not meeting anyone’s eyes, and Lili stared out the window with her chin in her hand, leaning against the car’s backdoor and letting the lights of the city bathe her in neon sickness.
Helmut, bless his soul, dutifully kept the radio going while he drove, changing the station to something more mellow whenever a song started getting a little too upbeat for the collective mood of the vehicle. Bob sat in the passenger side with his arms folded awkwardly. His brain was buzzing, dreading the inevitable conversation he needed to have with his great-niece and trying to figure out how he was going to go about it.
It surprised them all when Raz spoke over the music.
“It was my idea.”
The two adults glanced at each other, then through the rearview mirror at the fidgeting teen.
“Your idea to go looking for a drink? Or to sneak into a bar to do it?” Helmut asked, turning off the radio.
“Both.”
He still wasn’t meeting their eyes. Bob sighed through his nose.
“I don’t believe you.”
Razputin’s head finally snapped up to stare at him in shock for the fast call on his bluff. “I’m telling the truth!”
“I think you’re only telling part of it, kid.”
“No! I’m telling all of it.”
“Razpu-”
“Oh, come off it, Raz,” Lili snapped a little too loud, making the whole car jump. “Quit trying to take the fall for me. It was my idea to try the stupid fake ID thing, okay? Happy now?”
“Wh – uh, who said anything about being happy about it?” Helmut asked, legitimately confused.
“Look. Neither of us had anything to do tonight, and we were bored, so Raz suggested getting a drink somewhere, but Adam and Lizzie are out of town so we couldn’t ask them.” She crossed her arms and spoke without any inflection. “So, we went out but no one would let us do anything cause we’re minors. I thought that was stupid, because we’re agents same as any of you, so I came up with the sneaking-in part. We only got caught cause one of the bartenders recognized Raz from a show.”
There were a lot of loaded things to parse through from that explanation, but Bob’s mind stalled on one particular detail.
“Adam and Lizzie give you two alcohol?”
“Not…often,” Raz admitted. “Just once or twice, when we asked.”
“Do you mean like, a literal once or twice, or a…an estimated once or twice?”
“Did Dad put you up to this?” Lili shot back. “It was just a few times, like he said. What’s with the inquisition?”
“…Lili –”
 “Raz.”
“Okay!” Helmut proclaimed as he slapped his hand against the steering wheel in boisterous aggression. “Who wants some ice cream?”
Everyone stared at him, dumbfounded.
“Cause I’m really feeling some chocolate-vanilla swirl right now. Basic bitch style. Right? Who’s with me?”
Silence.
“Great! Look at that, open Dairy King right there, better take advantage of this opportunity before it slips through our fingers like the melting ice cream we’re all gonna have in about five minutes!”
The psi-king swung into the parking lot in a frenzy and herded the car crew inside before any of them could come out of their shock long enough to protest. It was only as Bob was staring up at fifteen flavors of oversaturated sugary goodness that he realized what had just happened.
He couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief over his husband’s diversion. The tension that had been boiling over was cooled significantly by the sudden non-sequitur, and while the teens were rather half-hearted about picking out their sweet treats, there was no longer a risk of an explosion happening.
Metaphorically and literally.
Helmut caught his spouse’s eye with a meaningful look at Lili the moment all of them had their orders in hand, then slung his arm around Razputin’s shoulders and steered him away. “C’mon my lad! Nothing like the cool night air of three in the morning to keep your Hurricane ™ properly chilled!”
The poor boy had no choice but to let himself be pulled outside, leaving the two Zanottos standing awkwardly in the dingy restaurant. Bob gave a nervous scratch at his chin under his beard.
“How about we, uh, find a seat somewhere?”
Lili couldn’t fully cross her arms while holding ice cream, but she did a good job of making it work anyway. “Sure.”
They sat in a booth in the farthest corner from the front counter. Both great-niece and great-uncle stared at their respective sweet treats as if they could teleport them out of this situation. Bob glanced out the window and saw Helmut and Raz standing outside of the car. The former was on one knee with his hand on the teen’s shoulder, speaking earnestly but inaudibly, and the latter was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the asphalt.
“Are you going to lecture me?” Lili finally cut through the silence.
Bob turned back to her. “No. Not really.”
“No?” She broke her gaze away from her ice cream just a little bit, eyeing him with surprise. “Then why did Helmut take Raz and leave us alone?”
She was so perceptive, so smart. And yet, still so young.
“Well, I… I still want to talk to you about what happened. I’m just not very, good, at this kind of thing.” He took his spoon and absentmindedly began drawing a flower in his soft-serve. “You already know what you did wasn’t a good idea, right? So I don’t think a lecture would help things any on that front.”
She didn’t respond. He continued.
“It’s less about the fake ID and more…the reasons you made the fake ID. Does that make sense?”
“I guess so, but I know what I’m doing, Uncle Bob. I’m not going to drink irresponsibly.”
The herbophanist shook his head. “But you’ll do irresponsible things to be able to drink in the first place.”
“That’s not –” Lili didn’t have a good rebuttal. She folded her arms and grumpily started eating her cherry chocolate delight. “Whatever. It’s two different things, anyway.”
Against his better judgement, Bob began picking at his own food as he thought about how best to bring the subject back up without making the teen defensive again. Spoons clicking against teeth was the only sound between them for a solid minute.
Finally, an epiphany.
“Did Truman ever…tell you anything, about your great-grandma?”
The girl paused with a bite halfway up to her mouth. She frowned, confused. “Grandma Tia? Not much. Just that she died when he was a baby.”
“Yeah. Yeah, she did.” He ran a tired hand over his face. The ache in his heart might have long-since healed into a scar, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when pressed. “She passed away when I was nineteen. The doctors told me it was liver failure.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. Lili’s mouth thinned and she put her spoon down, uncomfortable.
“When I…found out the reason behind her death, I was horrified by it. It didn’t make sense to me why she would willingly do something that hurt her so badly, especially when I was right there to love her and help her. It felt like a betrayal that she never got help or made herself stop. I was…disgusted by the mere thought of doing anything like that.”
Bob took a moment to breathe and wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying, but better safe than sorry.
“It sounds pretty hypocritical when I say it now, doesn’t it?”
His great-niece only gave him a hesitant look.
“Anyway, uh, where was I…” He worried his lip. “Oh, right. I told myself that I’d never touch the stuff after that. I was angry at what she’d done, and I was determined not to have the same ‘weakness’, so to speak. As you know, it, uh, it didn’t last long. I was at a college party barely a year later when I was invited by some friends to drink with them. I didn’t make human friends very easily back then – actually, I still don’t – so I was a little desperate to keep them. It turned out to be pretty hard whiskey, so I got hammered.”
The man leaned back in his seat, staring at the patterns in the booth table.
“Back then, no one really knew how alcoholism could run in a family. Everyone thought it was a personal choice to keep drinking. It wasn’t even classified as an addiction yet. So I didn’t know how susceptible I was, or how careful I had to be. I’d spend months not having a single drink, thinking I was fine and could handle myself, and then I’d get plastered for a week at parties and bars and God knows what else, and it would take me even longer to get myself to stop again. It was like that even when I was with Ford and his gang. It wasn’t until I started dating Helmut that I started trying to change those habits. I’d never met anyone who loved me so unconditionally that I wanted to be a better person for them, until him. And it worked for a while.
“Well, barring our wedding, of course. I got shitfaced at the reception. It was embarrassing afterwards, but Helmut told me it made our cake-eating ceremony a hell of a great time.”
Lili snorted, and it was accompanied by a tiny upturn of her lips. Then it dropped as her expression became solemn. “And then…everything with Maligula happened, right?”
“Yeah. I think you know the rest of that story.”
“Uh-huh.”
Great-niece and great-uncle sat together for a while, just thinking about it all.
“I know I have to be more careful drinking than a lot of people, Uncle Bob,” Lili finally said at length. “My dad warned me about it when I was old enough to ask.”
“Truman is a good dad,” he murmured in response.
“The best dad.”
“Definitely the best dad.”
More silence.
“I didn’t mean to worry you and him,” she continued. “Or scare you. I know it was dumb to do what we did tonight.”
Bob looked at her, and she gave a conceding sigh.
“Okay, it was dumb to do a lot of what we’ve been doing with this stuff. That doesn’t mean I’m not being careful.”
“Kid, it’s not always just a matter of being careful. I thought I was being careful. I thought that for years and years, and when I finally realized I wasn’t, I convinced myself I could stop any time I wanted to, and kept up the same patterns anyway. That’s what I’m trying to get you to understand. I just don’t want you to make the same mistakes I did. I’m just worried about you.”
Lili closed her eyes with a grimace. “I know. I’m sorry, Uncle Bob.”
“Hey, kiddo, look at me.” He waited until she did so. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not disappointed, either. That’s your dad’s job. I get it, is what I’m saying. It gives you a buzz, and it’s fun and exciting, and you just wanted to have a good time with your, uh…”
Bob leaned in a bit, and dropped his voice to a stage whisper.
“Is Raz still your boyfriend?”
“Wha –” her cheeks went red. “Yes, he is!”
“Alright, sorry, I’m just always out of the loop. No one ever tells me when these things change or not. Anyway,” he continued before she could get brighter than the cherries in her ice cream. “I’m just saying that you gotta be more than careful with this kind of thing. Everyone should be, really, but especially people like us. Plants aren’t the only thing that runs in the Zanotto family, unfortunately, so we just have to be aware of it and act accordingly.”
The teen turned this over in her mind. He could practically see the gears moving. When she looked at him again, it was with a slow, contemplative nod.
“No more late-night bar-hopping?” Her great-uncle asked.
“No more late-night bar-hopping.” She answered, sincere.
“Good.” He looked outside. Helmut and Raz were both lying on the front of the car, pointing out stars to each other. The sight made him smile. “Come on, we’ll work on that whole thing about Adam and Lizzie giving you alcohol another time, when it’s not three in the morning. For now, let’s rejoin our boys again and go get some rest, okay?”
“Okay.” Lili slid out of the booth and tentatively took her family member’s hand. His fingers squeezed hers in reassurance. “And...thanks, Uncle Bob.”
“Well, what can I say. Us weird Zanotto plant people hafta look out for each other, right?”
“Right.”
They walked out together, hand-in-hand.
------------------------------
A/N: I knew from promotional material that we'd be going into the mind of someone struggling with alcoholism, but Bob's Bottles punched me hard in the gut. It's probably my favorite mind in the game, both because it's visually gorgeous and because it hit a little close to home with some of the themes, like generational alcoholism and how the addiction can make someone a shell of themselves.
I wrote half of this three weeks ago and then found myself really struggling to finish it because it brought up a lot of old feelings I thought I'd sorted through a long time ago.
Psychonauts, man.
239 notes · View notes
makeste · 3 years
Text
BnHA Chapter 316: We've Had One, Yes, But What About Second Explosion
Previously on BnHA: Deku was all “[powers up like whoa because it’s time to end the fight]”, and he saved Overhaul from getting not-shot, and then smashed up Nagant’s arm with the power of his new rechargeable super knees. Nagant was all “yoooo this kid is crazy strong whaaaat, it’s like he’s some kind of protagonist or something.” Deku was all “I AM A PROTAGONIST, ACTUALLY, DO YOU WANT TO JOIN FORCES AND FIGHT BAD GUYS WITH ME?” Nagant was all “ah shit why the hell no -- ” and then AFO was all “SURPRISE” and everyone was all “?!?!?!” and AFO was all “TIME TO EXPLODE NOW” and made Nagant explode because he’s an absolute fucking dick. And then Hawks showed up, because Horikoshi just wanted to stuff as many plot points as humanly possible into a single chapter I guess.
Today on BnHA: Hawks is all “good job giving motivational shounen redemption speeches Deku but I’ll take it from here” and screams very earnestly right in Nagant’s face until she finally wakes up. Nagant is all “oh hey it’s my successor, you seem surprisingly unfucked-up from your own HPSC tenure, how did you manage that?” Hawks is all “fandom is going to love hearing this one, but basically it’s because I’m very upbeat and also I had the world’s best role model Endeavor to look up to,” and I swear this man stirs the pot on purpose, but damn it I still love him so damn much. Overhaul is all “HELLO AGAIN, JUST A REMINDER THAT, THE BOSS!!” and Deku is all “MAYBE TAKE TWO SECONDS TO REFLECT ON HOW YOU TORTURED A LITTLE GIRL,” which, thank you, lol. Nagant is all “btw AFO’s hiding in a house in the woods”, and so Deku and the gang go to the house in the woods. Video recording!AFO is all “hi I’m AFO welcome to Jackass” and blows up the house. Sometimes I wonder if this manga is just a weird dream.
I am once again reading the Bean version because I think it was actually the best out of all three translations last week. and that is surprisingly including Viz’s. “faux” is not nearly as entertaining as “knockoff”, and also I have literally no idea why Caleb thought Deku was saying the Third’s lines lol
oh hey, Endeavor’s here too! not that you’d ever be able to tell from this first panel lmao
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glad you received All Might’s call, mysterious unidentified glowing smudge
oh snap he says he’s weaker in the rain. is that why AFO told Nagant to attack then?? except that as we discussed the other day, I believe that AFO fully intended for Nagant to lose the fight, so him giving her info that would give her an advantage doesn’t really fit in with that. maybe he wanted Deku to be separated from Endeavor and the rest for maximum angst, though
btw Deku’s eyes are unsurprisingly back to the new normal here
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alas, the angst continues. I say, pretending like I’m not totally eating it up each and every week and writing essay after essay about it lol
anyway so apparently Hawks can’t actually fly lmao. he was just yeeting himself with style
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for some reason this is the funniest fucking thing I’ve ever seen omfg. wave to Hawks, kids! say “bye, Hawks!”
j/k of course Deku is catching them. -- except???
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wow so he was just running on fumes there at the end. well, good to know there is actually a limit to his shenanigans, particularly regarding this new “knockoff” 100% OFA. it will definitely not alleviate any of the discourse, but it’s good for my own peace of mind because it’s solid confirmation that he still needs his pals in order to win this thing
anyway, but on to the rest of this conversation, which is basically Deku deducing what we all deduced last week -- AFO implanted some sort of trap into Nagant when he gave her Air Walk. though I’d still like to get the actual details from AFO and/or Horikoshi, because this was particularly wild even by quirk standards lol
omgggggg
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she still has a face after all!! so it’s confirmed, Horikoshi has no idea what “blowing up” actually means. we might have guessed, based on what happened to Toga in the MVA arc, and also based on everything Katsuki does ever, but shhh
so now Hawks is all “NAGANT PLEASE WAKE UP, IF I SHOUT MY NAME AT YOU WILL THAT DO THE TRICK”
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this is actually kind of touching though because even though we all know (or most of us acknowledge at any rate) that Hawks is a pretty caring person, it’s rare to see him actually panic over someone’s welfare like this
oh shit Horikoshi is really doubling down on it
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I wonder how much Hawks knew about what really happened between Nagant and the HPSC. regardless, he probably sees her as a kindred spirit of sorts, and I’m more than happy for Deku to pass the redemption torch onto him now that he’s on the scene. like no offense Deku but they actually know each other and stuff lol
DAMMIT NAGANT CAN’T YOU SEE HOW LOUD HE IS YELLING
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apparently being freed from his HPSC shackles has finally given Hawks the space to embrace his own inner shounen protagonist. is there anything more shounen than trying to motivationally scream someone awake when they’re lying in your arms inches from death?? 100% guaranteed to work
!!! IS THIS NAGANT’S POV OMG
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SO SHE IS ALIVE. THANK GOD. Horikoshi doesn’t want to meet with my emotional distress lawyer today after all
love how she’s all “just gonna stir up the weekly Hawks Discourse pot here by implying that he probably committed a lot of Atrocities just like I did, so now people can get all hopped up about that, even though there’s no evidence he’s ever killed anyone aside from that one horrible ‘damned-if-you-do...’ situation with Twice.” no one asked for your provocative speculation young lady!! trust me Nagant, our rabbles don’t need the rousing lol
but nice save there with the “so how are your eyes so untainted” well you see it’s because even when he was following the HPSC’s orders he always went to great lengths never to go against his own moral compass. which just to be clear was incredibly difficult, and led to a ton of pain and suffering on his part, because the life of a spy is basically just one impossible situation after another. but in spite of that he never stopped trying to do his best to help people. I don’t really know where this tangent came from or is leading to, lol, but anyway p.s.a. I love Hawks a lot and he’s a good kid dammit
oh shit??!?
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how is the League always able to swing all these fancy forest mansions. where do they find them. how many do they have
so Deku’s dropping them -- very roughly, not sure if he was reacting to finally getting AFO’s location, or if his energy really is giving out -- and now Nagant’s saying that AFO hired other villains as well. well of course he did. gotta keep chipping away at OFA’s ninth successor little by little
now Nagant is asking Hawks how he’s able to keep making “that” face. I assume she’s again talking about the fact that he somehow didn’t let the HPSC wear down his spirit
oh my god???
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thanks for stuffing this chapter to the brim with good nutritional Hawks Feels, Horikoshi. what a good. he just keeps on trudging forward undeterred no matter what bullshit comes his way. what a steadfast little guy. I WILL PROTECT YOU FROM DISCOURSE MY SWEET SUNSHINE
lmaoooo
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“SPOTTED THIS DUDE JUST CHILLING OUT THERE ON THE ROOF WITH NO ARMS, SEEMED PRETTY SUS” good job Endeavor
anyway so you don’t really need me to tell you that Overhaul is immediately starting in with the “BUT THE BOSS WHEN ARE YOU GOING TO TAKE ME TO THE BOSS YOU PROMISED YOU WOULD TAKE ME TO THE BOSS” stuff again. but I will go ahead and tell you anyway. so yeah. he’s doing that
OMG YOU GUYS LOOK AT DEKU’S “of all the fucking assholes to just randomly drop in on my life once again why did it have to be you” FACE THOUGH, OMG
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fun fact, if you go back to chapters 124 through 160, there was an entire story arc where Overhaul imprisoned and tortured a little girl. yeah, I know!! suuuuuuuuper evil. anyways just an interesting little anecdote for you all that’s somewhat relevant to the current situation
OMG, YES. FUCK YES, DEKU
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THEN WHAT ABOUT SPARING ONE FOR HER!!! YES!!! EXACTLY!!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, SOMEONE GETS IT
HERE’S THE PANEL OF DEKU SAYING THE EXACT SAME THING I’M SAYING LOL
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(ETA: so apparently there’s some discourse about this because some people are interpreting this as Deku saying “you should apologize to Eri”, which would obviously be a terrible idea even if Overhaul actually wanted to do that, because Eri shouldn’t ever have to see him again. however I just want to point out that there is a HUGE difference between saying “it would be nice if you could direct that feeling of regret/being sorry towards Eri as well”, vs saying “you should also apologize to her.” all Deku is doing is rightfully pointing out that Overhaul has hurt way more people than just his boss, and if he really is remorseful, then he should extend those feelings of remorse to Eri and the rest as well. it’s not a directive to take any specific action, and I’m 1000% sure no one at U.A. would let Overhaul within 100 miles of Eri ever again.
tl;dr “try feeling remorse sometime” =/= “do you want me to fly you over to U.A. right now to surprise the little girl you traumatized”, lol.)
[slings an arm around Deku’s shoulders] you’re a good kid. I like you. I don’t know if I tell you that enough, but it’s true
meanwhile here is Overhaul’s “spare... a thought... for Eri...???????” face sigh
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the struggle is real y’all
(ETA: and that’s... the last we ever saw of Overhaul, I guess? well all right then. I assume Deku will make good on his promise, so we know he’ll get that little bit of closure before going back to jail or whatever, and I confess I’m more than fine with leaving the rest of it open-ended, especially given his character’s history. I think this was pretty generous all things considered.)
lmao holy shit
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All Might what did you do to those tiki torch guys?? did you thrash them. did you give ‘em those hands. did you deliver their own asses to them complete with a sticker reminding them Amazon Prime Day is on June 21. we missed out goddammit
so Endeavor, who wasn’t the one he was asking, is telling him that they captured (well let’s be real, Deku captured, give the credit where it’s due) Nagant and Overhaul. and so I guess they’re going to take Nagant to the ER now
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fire is no one’s weakness
-- oh my GOD I scrolled down and audibly gasped
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[is politely but firmly approached and asked to remove my arm from Deku’s shoulder by the physical manifestation of all this Dekuangst] “we’re sorry, he’s not allowed to have visitors right now” oh shit, my bad. [goes to stand behind a police barricade]
lmao what. did you run out of room on the previous page
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what an exaggerated fade to black lmao
-- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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I actually can’t see what he’s reacting to so maybe I’m just seriously jumping the gun here lol, but THE HELL WITH IT. the next panel appears to be a cut to Haibori Forest, so I’m just gonna go ahead and declare that Deku ran off on his own all wounded to go have more Dekuangst, just like I manifested. now go call Katsuki goddammit
[scrolls three more inches down] oh
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yeah so like I said, Deku is walking very slowly a few feet in front of Endeavor, who’s telling him to wait up. yep. we’ve all gotta be so careful to not just jump to conclusions. I know we’re excited but still
anyway, so! welcome back to Mt. Lady and Kamui Woods (ARE YOU GUYS DATING) and Edgeshot! have fun walking into this obvious trap lol
dammit Deku why are you so determined to tempt fate
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[monkey puppet meme faces]
OH MY GOD THIS IS PURE GRADE-A CHEESY COMIC BOOK VILLAIN 101 SHIT AND I’M HERE FOR IT
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that’s such a weird way of clapping who claps like that
unlike certain other people who shan’t be named, AFO doesn’t feel the need to inexplicably take his shirt off when recording sinister villain monologues. I think we’re all pretty grateful for that
high fives to everyone who called it!! yep yep
anyway so this whole scene has major booby-trap vibes, which I’m enjoying immensely even though I don’t think anything is really going to come of it lol. probably just another long-winded AFO Speech. but wouldn’t it be funny if like the ceiling started lowering down to try and squish Deku afterwards lol
(ETA: well the explosion was still pretty funny too ngl.)
ffff
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[“Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies]
anyway so yeah. he’s just hitting up all of his usual villain talking points. we get it, you’re so smart and you see right through the thin veneers of society and people who don’t conform are left to fend for themselves and labeled as villains and history is written by the victors, and blah blah blah dude are you just jumping randomly from one soundbyte to another lol. literally what are you talking about. what does this have to do with you blowing up Nagant
-- holy shit??
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[”Dekuangst is the trap” intensifies MORE?????]
LOL WHAT
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BRO. WHAT IS WITH YOU. DON’T YOU KNOW HOW TO LAY ANY OTHER KIND OF FUCKING TRAP GOOD LORD
“YOU’RE NEXT” THE CALLBACK?? THE PARALLELS?? THOUGH WHEN ALL MIGHT POINTED HE MADE IT LOOK WAY COOLER. AFO’S POINTING JUST LOOKS LIKE SMOKEY THE BEAR
HAS ANYONE CHECKED IN ON KAMUI WOODS I HEAR HE IS WEAK TO FIRE?? THE ONLY ONE WHO IS, APPARENTLY
r.i.p. to this particular forest mansion. don’t worry they have a ton of backups
remember last week when I said maybe AFO thinks explosions are gauche. well never mind. he fucking loves explosions
anyway so that’s the end of BnHA, everyone. hope you enjoyed. it was a good ride while it lasted. see you all, good luck in your travels
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kurokoros · 4 years
Text
liar liar | bakugou katsuki
Rated: M
Words: 9.4K
Pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader
Summary: Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.
Bakugou is hit with a strange quirk. You reap the benefits.
AN: This fic is 50% crack and 50% raunchy smut. I have zero explanations for this. Also big thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for ranting with me once about the fandoms weird level of hatred towards Bakugou, thus inspiring me to write something for him. I’m so sorry it was this.
Warnings: smut, language, oral sex (m receiving), dom/sub undertones, rough sex, degradation, spanking, choking, inappropriate use of quirks
***
Of all the things he’s experienced working as a Pro Hero, Bakugou never expected his dick getting too big to ever be a problem, let alone one in his top ten.
Kirishima glances at him out of the corner of his eye as they step into Bakugou’s office, red eyes narrowing in concern as he sees Bakugou’s gritted teeth and clenched fists. “Are you sure you’re okay, bro?” he asks, a little hesitant.
“I’m fine,” Bakugou practically snarls between his teeth. Fuck. The tingling sensation starts in his gut, heat spreading through his limbs, and he nearly swears aloud as the sensation shifts to his dick, his boxer-briefs getting uncomfortably tighter. Shit, he’s probably up to at least another inch by now. Thank god his pants are baggy.
Unfortunately, Kirishima isn’t so easily convinced. Brows furrowing, he looks Bakugou over slowly, searching for any lasting effects from their earlier scuffle with a few low rank villains. “You’ve been acting kind of… strange,” he settles on after an awkward beat of silence, “since you got hit by that quirk. You know, you probably should have gone to a—”
“I said I’m—” Bakugou cuts himself off as that tingle comes back. “I’ll be fine,” he corrects himself. The tingle goes away, and he almost groans in relief as his dick returns to its normal size. “Drop it, Kirishima.”
Kirishima holds his hands up in front of him, placating his huffy friend. “Okay, okay. I get it.” He backs off, still eyeing Bakugou warily as he pulls his phone from his pocket. He glances at the time. “Look, man, I gotta go. I have a date in twenty, and she’s gonna kill me if I’m late again.” His smile is apologetic, but exhausted.
“Whatever.” Bakugou tosses off one of his gauntlets, letting it clatter against the floor noisily. Breathing slowly through his nose, he peels off his mask as well, setting it down on his desk. It’s fine. Everything is fine. He can handle this. It’s just a really fucking annoying quirk that’ll probably go away on it’s own by the end of the day.
Another tingle stirs in his gut, and then his underwear tightens again.
Fuck. He can’t even lie to himself.
Just as casually as before, Kirishima says, “Yeah, and since I figured you shouldn’t be alone, I called you a babysitter,” as he types out a quick text on his phone. If that wasn’t bad enough, Kirishima calls out your name in a sing-song voice.
Bakugou drops his other gauntlet on his foot and whirls around. “You what?” he hisses, only half because of the pain. The sound of your name definitely doesn’t cause his heart to do something stupid like flutter in his chest. And his pants definitely don’t get snug around his crotch as he blatantly lies to himself. “Kirishima, what the fuck? Why would you call her?”
Taken aback by the outburst, Kirishima puts his phone away and shrugs. “I figured she’d make you feel better.”
“I don’t fucking want her here,” Bakugou tells him. Nothing happens in his pants. Like the bullshit quirk affecting his dick can’t decide if that’s a lie or not. Hell, Bakugou isn’t really sure either. Sure, he likes having you around, even if he’d never admit it. He likes seeing your pretty smile as you come flouncing into his office wearing one of those little skirts that make him want to bend you over his desk and—
He squeezes his eyes shut, banishing the thought before it can go any further and his pants grow any tighter from non-quirk related reasons.
On the other hand, you’re quite possibly the last person he ever wants to see him like this. Too bad the universe seems intent on fucking him over today.
“Nice to see you too, Bakugou.” 
The sound of your voice hits him like a lightning strike, still sweet despite the sarcastic inflection of your tone. Bolts of electricity shoot up his spine. In his chest, his heart pounds viciously against his ribs, and Bakugou’s shoulders tense as every one of his senses suddenly becomes a tune to you. Even from across the room, the scent of your perfume tickles at his nose—something floral or fruity that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s heavy and enticing and he tries not to shiver as it wraps around him.
He doesn’t dare turn to look at you as you take a step further into his office, determinedly staring at the wall and hoping you’ll leave with Kirishima. Yeah, un-fucking-likely.
When his silence persists, you roll your eyes and turn to Kirishima instead, the pinched expression on your face relaxing into a pleasant smile when you meet the eyes of the more friendly half of the duo. “Thanks for calling, Kiri,” you say, smoothing out your skirt.
A wide grin is the response you get. “Of course,” Kirishima says, stretching out and linking his fingers behind his head. “Figured he’d listen to you over anyone else.” He ignores the glare Bakugou sends his way, his lips twitching in amusement at the stark silence coming from the explosive blond.
You scoff. “Hardly, but I’ll try.” Casting a glance at Bakugou, you’re a little glad he seems intent on ignoring you, because it gives you the perfect opportunity to give him a slow once-over—for injuries, of course. He looks fine to you, a few superficial scrapes and bruises, but nothing severe enough for Kirishima to call you.
The tension in his shoulders is the first thing you notice. Bakugou is awkwardly hunched over himself in a way that isn’t like him at all. Usually, the Pro Hero exudes confidence that would border on cockiness if he didn’t have the skills to back it up, but right now he just looks... uncomfortable. What little of his face you can see is pinched, but not in annoyance; it’s more like pain, you realize, but then his expression melts into one of relief and you’re left baffled once again.
Before you can think too hard about it, your gaze wanders lower and you’re promptly distracted by his bare arms.
Kirishima clears his throat when you stare at Bakugou’s biceps a little too long.
“What happened anyway?” you ask, turning back to Kirishima. Your face feels warm, and by the way he grins you can tell he notices your faint blush. “You didn’t say much on the phone.”
He sobers a little as you bring the conversation back to the other Hero. The humor bleeds from his eyes, his shoulders drooping. “Yeah, sorry about that,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t have much time. We ran into a couple of villains on patrol. One of them caught Bakubro off guard and he got hit with their quirk. Wouldn’t let anyone check him out after.” He shrugs halfheartedly, looking at you apologetically. “You know how he gets.”
Don’t you ever. You’ve never met someone as stubborn as Bakugou before in your life. He can be a real pain in the ass when he wants, and you can’t blame Kirishima for his best friend being a dumbass.
You prop your hands on your hips, eyes narrowing in on Bakugou again. “How long has he been sulking?” you ask just loud enough for Bakugou to hear you.
Ruby eyes pin you with a heavy glower that would probably make anyone else piss themselves. Bakugou’s lip pulls back in a snarl, his teeth bared, and you ignore the pleasant tingle that shoots down your spine. “I’m not fucking sulking!” he snaps at you, making your eyes roll.
“Sure you aren’t.” Before he can start arguing with you, you turn back to Kirishima. “What do we know about this quirk?” 
“Nothing. Cops are questioning the guy now, but he’s not talking.” Kirishima gestures to Bakugou with his thumb. “And Ground Zero here keeps saying he’s fine.”
Across the room, Bakugou grumbles to himself under his breath, noticeably displeased with your lack of attention, but like hell he’s going to say anything about it. Jealousy is a bitter taste in the back of his mouth, and for once he can’t even pretend that’s not what it is as his glare shifts to Kirishima. Fuck, he wants you to look at him again. Pay attention to him.
The honesty is surprising to him, but he keeps his mouth shut and definitely doesn’t pout as you and Kirishima continue to chat like he isn’t even there. When it becomes clear that you aren’t going to end the conversation immediately, Bakugou huffs and turns around, glaring as he leans back against his desk, watching the two of you. His gaze skips right over Kirishima and lands on you, and he swallows back a frustrated groan when he finally gets a good look at you.
Fuck, you look good today. Unable to help himself, he’s absolutely shameless as he stares at your legs, your short skirt and high heels making them look even longer than usual. Bakugou grits his teeth as his mind drifts to those legs wrapping around his hips and yanking him closer. For once, he allows the thought to linger, lost in his own head.
“I see,” you murmur as your conversation with Kirishima comes to a close. With your lips pursed in thought, your gaze shifts back to Bakugou, only to find him already staring right back at you, watching you intently. Your pulse jumps under his piercing gaze, and it takes everything in you to break eye contact with him and smile at Kirishima instead. “I’ll take care of it. Have fun on your date, Kiri.”
Kirishima shoots you a megawatt smile and a thumbs up.“Will do! Good luck with this guy!” He pays no attention to Bakugou’s grumbling as he heads out the door, closing it quietly behind him, leaving you and Bakugou alone together in an office far away from other people.
Yeah, this should be fun.
You twist on your heels so that you’re facing Bakugou directly. Trying for a charming smile, you prop your hands on your hips. He glares at you and crosses his arms over his chest, clearly not planning on cooperating. And boy does it give you an excellent view of his muscled forearms, all tanned skin and silver scars from years of hero work. You wet your lips, suddenly thirsty. 
“Okay, Ground Zero,” you start, giddily noticing the way he puffs up at your use of his hero name, “are you going to tell me what’s wrong or do we have to do this the hard way?” Your voice lowers at the end, coming out as a husky whisper.
Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow, and he grits his teeth against the pleasant warmth that curls in his chest. “Piss off,” he bites out, a low and dangerous edge to his voice that you easily ignore.
If you hadn’t known him for years, maybe it would be intimidating, but despite his gruff attitude and biting tone, you know he would never lay a hand on you. “Come on, Bakugou,” you try again, taking a step towards him as a small pout forms on your lips. “Please tell me? I just want to help and make you feel better.”
The breathy whine you let out paired with you wanting to make him feel better does absolutely nothing to help the situation going on in his pants.
His gaze slides to the side, avoiding your eyes as he tells you to “Just go home,” because he doesn’t want to see the disappointment there.
But you don’t back down. You can be just as stubborn as him when you want to be, and there’s no way in hell you’re leaving just so he can cling to his manly pride, or whatever it is he’s worried about. Clearly, asking nicely isn’t going to work. Honestly, you’d be more surprised if it did. “Hard way it is.”
Bakugou’s eyes widen, and his head snaps towards you just in time for you to launch yourself at him. It’s a bit difficult, between your skirt and heels, but you catch him off guard, and that helps. He tries to twist away at the last second, leaving you to cling to his back, limbs wrapping around him tightly. A surprised grunt escapes his at your sudden weight on him, but he doesn’t even stumble, letting you curl your body around him in a one-sided hug.
“Get off me, loser,” he growls at you, glaring at you over his shoulder. Despite his irritation, Bakugou makes no move to shake you off. In fact, one of his big hands latches onto your leg when you start to slip, allowing you to shift yourself for a better grip. He lets go of you just as quickly, standing stock still in the middle of the room while glaring at everything that isn’t you.
Your fingers dig into his shoulder where you’re grabbing him. “Not until you tell me what’s wrong!”
This time, he does try to shake you off, and you squeal as your grip starts to slip. “I’m fine!” he snaps at you, only to wince a second later.
Ever the opportunist, you don’t think twice before hooking your leg around him and going for his knees. Bakugou swears as he loses his balance, and somehow you manage to knock him to the floor using a grappling move that he taught you. He ends up rolling in time to land on his back, cushioning your fall aa your knees press against the floor on either side of his hips, straddling him as you pin him with a firm look. Long fingers grasp at your upper thighs, his thumbs grazing the hem of your skirt, and he lets you go just as quickly, as if you’ve burned him
Bakugou looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, but, again, he makes no move to shove you away, though he definitely could.
“Oh, yeah, clearly you’re just fine,” you reply, sarcasm laid on thick. Your hands are pressed against his chest for balance as you regain your bearings, and you can feel the angry breath he takes. Bakugou is warm and solid beneath you, hips pressed snug against yours. It feels way too good, but that’s not what you need to be thinking about at this moment. “Now stop acting like a baby and tell me what’s going on.”
Looking up at you, Bakugou sighs when your fierce look doesn’t relent. He mutters something under his breath that’s too low for you to make out clearly, then grimaces. “It’s nothing,” he tells you again, a harsh edge to his voice.
You pin him with a glare. “You got hit by a strange quirk, Bakugou,” you tell him slowly, contempt dripping from every word. “That’s not nothing.” The crack in your voice on the last word is what makes him drop the sour look on his face. You wince, fingers curling tighter around his shirt, like that might keep you grounded. All the fear you felt when Kirishima called you earlier comes surging back through you, and it feels like a blow to the ribs. You stare at his chest as you continue, the words bubbling up and out before you can stop them. “I know you. You’re too damn prideful to go see a doctor and admit something is wron—and that scares me sometimes, you know? One day you could get really hurt.” Slowly, you force your eyes up, meeting his stare with your own tentative one. “Please, just tell me what’s wrong. For me?”
Bakugou’s expression softens nearly an imperceptible amount. His glare smooths out. “Fuck,” he growls under his breath, trying to ignore the violent tug on his heartstrings that comes with that pleading look in your eyes. He’s always been a sucker for you, and you damn well know it too.
But he’s not going to give in this time.
The tingle that goes straight to his crotch proves him very wrong.
You freeze above him, body locking up as something big and hard presses against your inner thigh. “Katsuki,” you say, forcing yourself not to react aside from the widening of your eyes. “Is that your…”
“Yeah,” he replies, jaw clenched. His tone is nothing short of mocking when he tacks on, “You’re sitting on my cock, sweetheart.”
Well, shit. You blink at him owlishly, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of literally anything to say in this situation that isn’t stupid, crass, or a blatant change of subject. It’s surprisingly hard to think with his bulge pressed up against your leg like this, and you blurt the first thing that comes to mind. “Are you turned on right now?” you ask incredulously, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I swear to God, Katsuki, I’m trying to be serious here, and you—”
He cuts you off. “I’m not fucking hard.” A pair of big, rough hands latch onto your thighs to keep you from squirming over his lap. “But if you keep moving around like that, I will be.”
“You liar.” A gasp sticks in your throat as he tightens his grip on your legs. By this point, you’re pretty sure you’re blushing, but honestly, you can’t find it in you to care when you are, in fact, basically sitting on his lap. Besides, Bakugou doesn’t look that much better. “If you were that big while soft, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed by now.”
Well that catches his attention. A smug smile stretches across his face. All teeth. “You spend a lot of time looking at it, angel?” Oh, this time he’s definitely mocking you. The palms of his hands slide up your thighs until his fingertips graze the hem of your skirt where it’s hiked partway up your legs, revealing a few tantalizing inches of your bare skin.
“Oh, no, you aren’t changing the subject,” you snap at him, sitting up a little straighter. “Why the hell is your dick so big, and what the fuck is going on?”
Your questions echo awkwardly through the otherwise silent room. For a tense moment, Bakugou just glares up at you. One of his eyes twitches slightly, his lips turned down in a grimace. You don’t relent, glaring right back at him. Eventually, one of you is going to have to give in, and it’s sure as shit not going to be you this time.
“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tilts his head back against the floor. His fingers bite into your thighs when you shift on top of him, leaning a little closer. “It’s that dumbass villain’s quirk,” he sneers, baring his teeth in a snarl as he opens his eyes again. There’s nothing that could possibly prepare you for what he says next. “When I lie my cock gets bigger.”
You almost laugh. Almost. The deathly serious look in his eyes is the only thing that keeps you from bursting into a fit of giggles. And you believe him. You probably wouldn’t if you weren’t currently straddling his lap and sitting on his abnormally large cock. But, yeah. Sure. His dick gets bigger when he lies, and somehow that makes perfect sense.
“What, like some kind of kinky lie detector?” You almost suggest Pinocchio, but you doubt he’d take that well at all. 
Predictably, he makes a face at your comparison. “Sure. Whatever.”
Again, neither of you say anything, letting an awkward silence develop between you. While Bakugou just looks all around uncomfortable with the situation, your brow is pinched in thought. Honestly, this quirk seems like some bullshit. You can’t imagine what benefit anyone would get out of making someone’s dick grow when they lie, aside from the exact situation you’re currently in. You almost feel worse for the poor sap stuck with such a bizarre quirk than the Pro Hero currently lying between your legs.
A full body shiver runs through you, and every nerve suddenly becomes highly aware of the man beneath you. Every breath he takes moves his chest beneath your hands, and you can feel the rapid beating of his heart beneath your palm. The tips of his fingers ghost against your thighs, not quite touching you, like he isn’t sure what to do with his hands anymore. And, suddenly, all you can think about are those hands grabbing you by the hips and grinding you down against him.
Unbeknownst to you, similar thoughts are wreaking havoc on Bakugou. From where you’re sitting on top of him, he has a perfect view of your legs and chest, and every time you shift, the movement goes straight to his cock. He almost hisses between his teeth as your thighs tighten around his hips, which only presses the growing bulge in his pants harder against you. His fingers twitch against your legs. It would be so easy for him to roll the two of you over, pin you beneath him, and show you exactly what you do to him. Fuck you senseless until you—
“What are you thinking right now?”
The question is like a hard slap across the face. His eyes snap from the apex of your legs to your face, caught red-handed. There’s no way for him to get out of this one without his dick giving him away or an actual slap across the face. He chooses his traitor dick. “That I want you to get the fuck off me.”
You look entirely unimpressed when his dick moves between your legs, growing larger in seconds. “Liar,” you deadpan. You drum your fingers against his chest, unintentionally matching the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “Tell me the truth and maybe I’ll move.” Nevermind that he could definitely throw you across the room one handed if he really wanted to. Frankly, you’re a little surprised he hasn’t already, given your current situation. 
Not that you want to move right now. You’re quite comfortable where you are.
Bakugou’s tongue swipes across his bottom lip. Those ruby eyes drag down your body slowly, shamelessly drinking in the sight of you sitting on top of him. An unexpected lick of run runs along your spine; your breath catches. “You look really fucking sexy right now,” he tells you, and his hands grab your thighs again.
It takes a second for you to register his confession, though you can’t say you’re that surprised. “Huh. Never pegged you as a guy who wanted someone on top.” You can work with that.
His brow furrows. “You know, you’re taking this surprisingly well.”
“I work in quirk registration for the police,” you remind him, shrugging. “This isn’t the weirdest thing I’ve come across.” Honestly, you aren’t even sure it makes the top ten, but you keep that to yourself. You get the feeling he’d take that as some kind of challenge, and you don’t need that kind of stress in your life. “How long has it been like this?”
A shrug. “Shit, I don’t know.” Bakugou shifts beneath you, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Thirty minutes, maybe. Why?”
“Effects from quirks like this typically only last an hour or two,” you explain. “Maybe twenty-four hours at most, depending on how much training the user has.” Your head cocks to the side as you give him an entirely unsubtle once-over. “It sounds like he didn’t give you and Kirishima much trouble though. I’d put your... little problem at an hour and a half maximum. You should be fine.”
There’s a wicked look in his eyes. “Nothing little about it, babe.” His palms slide up your legs, rucking up your skirt even higher on his way to grab your hips. “Hour left, huh?” A low hum rumbles through his chest. “I can work with that.”
You freeze. “Katsuki, what are you—”
“Look,” he cuts you off with an irritated sigh, “I’ve liked you for a long time, so if you want to fuck right now, that’s fine with me.” Heartbreaking honesty shines in his eyes, only partially masked by a layer of annoyance and boredom, like he doesn’t care either way. The way his fingers dig into your hips tells a different story.
Your eyes widen at his crass confession, your lips parting as you stare down at Bakugou in shock. “Are you…” you hesitate, swallowing down the sudden lump in your throat as your fingers curl against his shirt. “Are you serious?”
Bakugou glares at you, but his faint blush gives him away. “You’re the one sitting on my magic cock, you tell me.”
You sit there for a good minute, just staring at him, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as you try to think of any kind of response. Eventually, you settle on, “That is, by far, the worst declaration of love I’ve ever heard.”
If you thought he was glaring before, it has nothing on the look he levels you with now. “Who fucking said anything about loving you, dumbass?” he snaps, huffing, cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “Like hell I do!” He grits his teeth as his dick tingles.
“Yeah, well, your magic cock reveals your deceit,” you mock him. “You’re such an emotionally stunted pain in the ass, Katsuki!” 
He opens his mouth—probably to start yelling about something—but you lurch forward and meet his mouth in a fierce kiss before he can say anything. He grunts in surprise and squeeze your hips, but kisses you back eagerly, immediately tilting his chin for a better angle. The hands that were on your hips don’t hesitate to move. One slides up your back to fist in your hair, pulling you closer as the other drops to your ass. A hard grope makes you gasp against his lips, your fingers clenching tighter in the front of his hero suit.
Before things can get too heavy, too fast, you pull back, leaving just an inch of space between your lips. He doesn’t let you go much further. “I like you, too,” you whisper against him. He stiffens as your fingers touch his bare chest where his hero suit doesn’t cover him.
His heart is pounding just as quickly as yours, and he’d never admit it, but he swears your little confession does something funny to his chest. All of it does. The heat of your breath. The gentle weight of your body on top of his. Something about you makes him feel inexplicably soft, and he wants to hate that feeling, but he still can’t lie to himself without his cock growing two sizes. And if he’s going to stuff you full of his cock, he wants it to be all him.
At least at first.
With the hand still tangled in your hair, Bakugou yanks you back down. Your lips mold against his perfectly, the space left between you nonexistent. When he kisses you it’s all teeth and tongue, and your lips part readily beneath his demanding touch. He makes a low sound of approval in the back of his throat, slotting his lips harder against yours. Using the hand cupping the back of your head, he adjusts you above him, tilting your chin until he finds a position he likes.
The dominating way he touches you makes you keen, and your quiet whimper is smothered by his tongue delving into your mouth to taste you. Your legs tremble on either side of his hips as the hand on your ass gropes you again. By now, your skirt is hiked halfway up your waist, and if anyone were to walk in they’d get a perfect view of your ass and the damp spot forming between your thighs.
You arch into his touch at the thought, moaning as his teeth tug at your lip.
By the time you pull away, you both have kiss-swollen lips.
When Bakugou recalls what you called him a moment ago, he chuckles, deep and throaty, and it sends a thrilled shiver up your spine. “I’ll show you a real pain in the ass later, sweetheart,” he promises, squeezing your ass cheek for good measure. The squeeze is followed by a sharp slap, and you lurch forward, a startled squeal slipping out of your mouth.
You glare down at him. Well, you try to. It’s a little hard to pretend to be mad at him when his hand comes up to rub the spot where he smacked you, which only presses your hips closer to his growing bulge. Your tone is dry when you say, “I’m sure you will.” And then, because he’s already propositioned you and has his hand on your ass, you grind yourself against his dick.
“Shit,” he grunts, grabbing your hips. His fingers bite into your skin, twitching like he doesn’t know if he wants to still you or shove you down on his cock. A slow exhale hisses through his teeth. “You tryin’ to be a cock tease?”
The satisfaction that bubbles up in you only feeds the damp heat between your legs. He’s hardly touched you, but you can already feel yourself getting wet just from the thought of him filling you. You brace yourself against him, palms pressed flat against his chest. “You want me to stop?” Purposefully fluttering your eyelashes at him, you slowly work your hand lower, fingers grazing over lean muscle until you stop at his waist, pressing down on his belt.
As your eyes start to follow the path of your hand, Bakugou reaches out and grabs your chin. A warning squeeze makes you mewl expectantly. “Keep talking, baby, and I'll put that mouth to better use.” The pad of his thumb traces your bottom lip. Before he can let go, you tilt your head into his touch, teeth barely grazing his finger as you nip at him. “Such a little brat,” he sneers. 
You’re thrown off balance when he sits up. His abdominal muscles flex against your stomach as he crushes you against his chest, and your hands fly to his shoulders, desperate for something to hold onto. Bakugou kisses you again, lips hungry and demanding as they press against yours, and you give him complete control. He tilts your chin, pulls your hair, bites your lips, and every touch makes you feel hazy and warm.
Anticipation churns in your stomach. Your hands slide over his shoulders, looping around his neck. He grunts when your wrist brushes against the side of his neck, and when you card your fingers through his hair and tug, he lets out a sound that goes right to your core.
The hand on your ass gives you another sharp spank. The motion jerks your hips against his, and you grind down against the hard cock rubbing your inner thigh. His fingers knead your ass and the back of your thigh, groping and squeezing and helping your hips along as you rock languidly over his lap. Each roll of your hips has his cock dragging across your damp panties, the head kissing your clit through the layers of your clothes. You shudder, lost in the feeling.
You’re only half aware of him moving, not noticing until the hand that was in your hair slips beneath your shirt to palm your breast. An appreciative squeeze has you arching into him, hips stuttering against his. Bakugou nips at your bottom lip hard enough to make you whimper, and when he pulls away you’re sure it’s swollen and flushed from his treatment.
But he doesn’t leave you for long. You’re barely given a moment to breathe before his mouth is on your jaw, your cheek, your chin. Bakugou trails heated, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, only stopping when he finds a spot that has you lurching against him, a pretty little moan falling from your mouth. He laves attention to that spot, right over your racing pulse. Teeth dig into your sensitive neck, and your breath catches in your throat as he begins to suck, intent on leaving a mark. You don’t stop him as he works a hickey just below your jaw, eyes fluttering shut at the onslaught of sensation. 
Before leaving that spot, he drags his tongue across your neck to soothe the bruise he’s left behind.
Desire curls in your chest as a thought comes to mind, and you’re too slow to stop it from spilling out. “I wanna touch you,” you choke out as his mouth trails lower. Bakugou pauses, lips hovering just shy of your throat. The heat of his breath fans your damp skin, sending little pinpricks of electricity all the way to where your hips are grinding against his. You swallow, one hand fisting in the back of his shirt as his thumb brushes against the lacy cup of your bra.
“Already are, baby,” he says, partly muffled by your neck as he ghosts his lips against you. “Grinding against my cock like a little slut. Gonna get yourself off for me just like that?” He’s hiding a smirk. It’s clear what you want by the way your hips roll against his faster, grinding down harder as teasing touches turn desperate, but he wants to hear you say it. He wants you begging for his cock before he fucks you.
He ruts against you, alternating between squeezing your breast and ass. 
“Bakugou!” You try to sound reprimanding, but his name comes out as a breathy whine. There’s no way for you to get your hand on him with the way he has you pressed flush against his chest. And he’s definitely not going to make things easy for you.
As if he knows what you’re thinking, the man beneath you laughs. “You want it that bad, you better take it yourself, sweetheart.”
Huffing, you try to put some space between your hips, but his grip is firm. Bakugou swats your ass when you try to move, and you whimper as it forces your hips harder against his. You try a second time, and he pinches your nipple through the flimsy cup of your bra. Your head falls back with a moan, giving him greater access to your throat, and he smirks as he bites down on your soft skin.
Fine. You can play this game, too.
With a sharp grind of your hips, you rub your clit against him just right. Your back arches. Your thighs tense around his hips. “Ground Zero,” comes out as a needy whine against his ear. You feel him tense beneath you, his grip faltering for just a second. That’s all you need.
The momentary distraction is all you need to slide back on his thighs, putting just enough space between your hips to grab his belt and grind the heel of your hand against the massive bulge straining against his pants. Even through his pants you can feel how thick and long he is, and your pussy clenches at the thought of him fucking you senseless.
He grunts as you palm him, squeezing gently as you trace the outline of his cock. His mouth leaves your neck with a wet pop. “Shit,” Bakugou murmurs. Soft strands of his spiky hair tickle the side of your neck as he rests his head against you, reveling in the feel of your light touches.
Your fingers brush against the back of his neck, your palm grinding against him when his hips rock forward. Strong muscles flex beneath your thighs. Bakugou’s throat bobs with a harsh swallow. 
Unable to stop yourself, you duck your head, pressing your lips against the side of his neck. It’s hard to find an angle with the bracers around his neck, and your attention turns to the front of his throat instead. Bakugou groans as you kiss him, lovebites and lipstick stains left in the wake of your mouth. He lets you kiss and nip your way down to his collarbone.
Thank god for the low cut of his shirt, you think, biting down on his chest hard enough to leave a mark. At the same time, your fingers grasp at his belt, nearly snapping the buckle in your hurry to get your hand on him. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re aware of him saying something—calling you needy or naughty, you aren’t sure which—but you don’t care as you finally get your hand in his pants and grab his dick.
“You’re so big,” you murmur, eyes widening. The tips of your fingers don’t touch as you wrap your hand around his cock, stroking him languidly from base to tip. You can’t get a good look at him from your position, but you can feel every ridge and vein of his shaft, and you bite your lip at the sheer girth of him. “Is this from the quirk?” you ask him, swirling your thumb over the tip before dragging your hand back down, giving him a firm squeeze. You lean back a little, wanting to look at him, but Bakugou lurches forward to get his mouth on you again.
He groans against your ear, pressing a harsh kiss against the side of your jaw. “All me, babe,” he tells you, smug. For once, you really can’t blame him for being cocky. “Fuck, that feels good.” 
The way your soft hand slides against his shaft wrecks havoc on his brain, and Bakugou presses another heated kiss to your neck to smother a loud moan. He’s already painfully sensitive from having you hump his lap, and your tentative touch only makes him harder. And that damn quirk didn’t help at all. After over a half hour of that bullshit cock tease, he’s just aching to bury himself in your dripping pussy.
Your thumb traces the thick vein on the side of his cock, pressing against it gently before twisting your hand. The sudden change in angle and the way you squeeze him have a low sound tearing from his chest, and then your hand is being yanked out of his pants. Bakugou’s fingers clench around your wrist in a vice grip, and you wince at the mild sting.
“Get up,” he demands, nearly growling. His fingers are digging into your ass hard enough to leave faint bruises, but you don’t care. When you hesitate, he releases you only to slap the back of your thigh. “Now.”
You pussy clenches at the pain that quickly dissolves into pleasure. “What’s wrong, Katsuki,” you can’t help but tease, hoping to get a reaction out of him, “afraid you’ll cum too fast?”
He doesn’t spank you again, though his palm does press against your reddening ass cheek in a way that speaks of a warning. “Don’t make me tell you again, baby.”
It takes another second before you shift off his lap, your legs quivering as you stand. You almost consider ignoring the command. Almost. But it doesn’t take much for you to decide you’d rather see what he has planned for you.
Your thighs rub together as Bakugou rises from the floor in one fluid motion, years of training making him silent, almost catlike. He reaches for you as soon as he’s standing, towering over you, an imposing figure. The scattering of small marks on his throat makes you grin, but the smile is wiped from your face as he grabs your chin roughly between his fingers and forces you to meet his eyes.
Ruby red and blown wide with lust, the look in his sharp gaze makes your breathing hitch. A wet crackling sound leaves your mouth as your lips part for him. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Such a dirty fucking mouth,” he growls.
You stumble a little as he starts walking you backwards, not touching you aside from the firm grip he has on your jaw. You go willingly, eyes on his. Excitement has your stomach flipping, a nervous flutter in your belly, and you gasp when your back hits the side of his desk, the cold wood pressing against your skin where he’s tugged at the hem of your shirt. 
Bakugou’s thumb delves past your lips, dipping into your wet mouth, and your lips wrap around him greedily. Sucking gently, your teeth press against his skin possessively, tongue laving attention to his thick digit. With his free hand, Bakugou grabs the front of your plain blouse and yanks it open, careful not to rip any of the buttons. You let your shirt fall to the floor, wriggling a little as it sticks around your elbows. He reaches up to palm your breast, humming in approval once he sees your pretty bra.
“Get on your knees, baby,” he tells you, pulling his thumb from your mouth and smearing your spit across your lips, watching them glisten. “I want to see your mouth on my cock.”
You do as you’re told, practically shaking with anticipation as you drop to your knees for him. Now that you’ve gotten a feel for his cock, you’re desperate to have him inside you. Your mouth. Your pussy. It doesn’t matter which. Any thoughts of playing coy or being a brat disappear into the back of your mind as he pins you with a harsh stare. Bakugou pets your hair, threading the soft strands through his fingers to hold you still. 
You bite your lip as his free hand drops to his waist, Bakugou shoving his pants and boxers down just low enough for his cock to spring free. The size makes you swallow. He’s bigger than you thought. Thicker. And you remember how your hand couldn’t wrap all the way around him. Your thighs clench, rubbing together as a dull ache builds between your legs.
He doesn’t waste his time. Shifting forward, he palms himself, lazily stroking his cock with his own fingers, just out of your reach. When you try to lean forward, he pulls your hair, forcing you back again. “Such a little slut,” he murmurs, allowing the head of his cock to press against your wet lips, his hips slowly rocking back and forth. Your tongue flicks out to taste him, and he groans. “There you go,” he says, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from your face before he starts pushing his cock into your mouth.
You immediately close your lips around him, bobbing your head forward as much as his tight grip will let you. Bakugou feeds you his cock, sliding into your wet mouth slowly as you start to suck, letting you adjust to just how fucking thick he really is. His girth has your jaw stretched wide, forcing you to breathe slowly through your nose. You glance up at him.
“That’s it, angel,” he groans as you bob your head again, “suck my cock.” His hips rock forward in a shallow thrust; his eyes lock on your lips, stretched obscenely around his length. Wet trails of saliva stick to his cock as you pull back to swirl your tongue around the head. 
Whimpering around him, you suck harder, swallowing around him, anything that might pull another filthy moan from his mouth. Your hands grab his thighs for balance, your fingers digging into his legs as you try to pull him closer.
You’re rewarded with a low moan rumbling from his chest. Bakugou’s eyes slip shut for a second, his head tilting back in raw pleasure. “Figures you'd be a perfect little cock sucker,” he says under his breath, almost too low for you to hear him. “I bet you want me to fuck your face, huh, baby?”
You settle for moaning instead of nodding, watching him through your eyelashes as he pants above you. 
“Fuck.” A long, hissing exhale escapes through his teeth, and his hand tightens in your hair just a little bit as he watches you work his cock. You look so fucking pretty with your mouth wrapped around him, your lips slick with saliva as you take him deeper into your mouth. There are tears beading at the corners of your eyes. “Fuck,” he says again, “you feel so good.” He grunts. “How long have you been thinkin’ about sucking my cock, babe?”
You flush under his gaze, unable to answer with your mouth full of his dick, but the answer must be clear as day on your face. You don’t know what it is he’s thinking about, but you swear his cock gets bigger in your mouth, that strange quirk making him thicker so that you’re nearly choking on him.
Bakugou holds your head still as he starts to rock his hips; he moves slowly at first, his thrusts shallow and even, but he quickly picks up speed when you whine around his cock. It isn’t long before he’s fucking your mouth, thrusts as rough as you’d expect from someone like him. His cockhead brushes against the back of your throat, his hips stuttering as he holds you like that, your lips pressed nearly against the base of his cock.
Somehow, you manage to keep your eyes on him. You force your throat to relax and swallow around him. His eyes almost roll back at the sensation, but he keeps his ruby gaze locked on you, watching how well you take him. He can only imagine how good you’re going to take his cock, too. He speeds up again, groaning as the pressure in his gut starts to build.
His cock pulls from your mouth with a wet sound, and you cough, sucking in greedy mouthfuls of air. Bakugou drags you off the floor, and your startled gasp is cut off by his hand wrapping around your throat. He doesn’t squeeze, unfortunately, just holds his palm there. The next thing you know, you’re being shoved against the nearest wall, your cheek pressed to the chilly surface as Bakugou all but rips off your skirt, leaving you in just your underwear and shoes. 
The fabric pools on the floor in a crumpled heap, and Bakugou kicks it aside in order to spread your legs from behind. You brace your hands against the wall, ass out, and he’s on you in a second.
Teasing is thrown out the window as he finally—finally—touches you. One of his hands reaches around you to grope your chest, palming your breast roughly before shoving the cup of your bra aside to tweak and pinch your nipple. You’re a panting, whining mess by the time he gets his hand between your legs. Two thick fingers drag over the crotch of your panties, and he actually laughs when he feels how wet you are. “Shit, you get that horny just from sucking my cock?”
Blearily, you nod, pressing your pussy closer to his hand. Bakugou shoves your panties to the side, fingers skimming through your wetness before rolling over your clit. You nearly sob at how good it feels to have him touch you. It’s like his hands were meant to please you, big and rough, his calloused fingers providing the perfect amount of friction. Each precise stroke of his fingers feeds the knot in your belly, keeping you right on the edge of coming undone.
“You’re gonna feel so fucking good on my cock,” he tells you removing his fingers from your clit to squeeze your ass. His cock quickly replaces his hand between your thighs, his thick length rubbing against your slick pussy, the head bumping against your clit with every stroke. Bakugou lets go of your breast; his hand slaps against the wall beside your head for balance. “Pretty cunt squeezing around me. That what you want?”
“Please. Oh, please,” you mumble. Anything to get him inside you. It almost hurts how turned on you are right now. From the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the hem of his shirt, about to pull it off. “Don’t!”
Bakugou goes absolutely still at your sharp cry. The only movement is his eyes snapping up to meet yours, flooded with concern as he checks to see if he’s hurting you.
But you whimper, trying to shove yourself back on his cock. “Don’t take it off,” you clarify breathlessly, legs quivering with the effort of holding yourself up.
The concern bleeds from his eyes, and they’re taken over by something dark and hungry instead as he realizes what you mean. He thrusts his cock between your thighs, your slick covering his cock as it drips from you. Your eyes flutter as he pressed against your clit again. “Don’t take what off?” He wants to hear you say it.
And you’re so painfully aroused that the words come spilling out of your mouth before you can stop him. “Your costume,” you choke out around a loud moan. “I want you to fuck me while you’re wearing your costume.” That’s one dirty little fantasy you’ve had for a while, maybe ever since you met him. The thought of him fucking you while he’s still in costume is almost too much, but god do you want it badly.
“That so?” he drawls. His hand drops from his shirt back to your ass cheek, groping you before spreading you from behind. He takes a step back, ignoring your whine, and whistles when he gets a good look at your dripping slit. Bakugou tugs your hips back, forcing your back to arch for him. “What a naughty little slut. You got a thing for heroes, baby?”
Just you, you think, but all you can do is moan his name. “Bakugou.”
You cry out as he slaps your ass. “No, no, no,” he repremends. “That's not what you call me.”
“Katsuki, please,” you manage to whine around a harsh swallow.
He spanks you again. “Come on, angel, you know what to say.” It takes a second for it to click, but when it does you blush. “Fuck, look how wet you are.” He chuckles as he looks at your glistening thighs. Another love tap lands on your reddening ass. “You like it when I spank you?”
“Yes,” you mewl.
He spreads your legs open wider. “Yes, what?”
You take a deep, shuddering breath, cheek pressed against the wall in front of you. “Yes, Ground Zero.” Your tongue runs across your bottom lip. “Sir,” you tack on.
“Good girl.” 
There’s no warning as he adjusts himself behind you, cock slamming into you hard enough to steal your breath. There’s no resistance, you're so wet. You pussy clenches around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. That’s all it takes for an orgasm to rip through you, the knot in your belly snapping so fast that all you can do is let out a silent scream as you slump forward against the wall.
Bakugou is equal parts shocked and amused as you try to milk his cock, and he grits his teeth as his dick twitches inside of you, almost pulling him over with you. “Fuck,” he laughs. “You cum just from me filling you up?” You whimper and nod. “Shit, you’re so fucking tight.” 
He presses you closer to the wall, and his arm slips beneath your knee, lifting your leg and holding you open. Your thigh burns from the stretch. His cock drags along your walls slowly before, only the tip left inside before he thrusts back into you, reaching deeper.
He picks up a steady pace, slamming into you over and over. You’re already so sensitive from your first orgasm, and little gasps and whines keep falling from your mouth with every brutal thrust as Bakugou finds your sweet spot, hitting it perfectly as he pounds you. He’s thick and hard inside you, even bigger than he was in your mouth, and your eyes widen when you realize he’s doing it on purpose. “How big can you get?” you gasp, moaning as his cock expands inside you, filling you up completely.
“As big as you fucking want me,” he snarls back, fucking you faster, hiking your leg up higher.
All you can do is hold on and take it.
You don’t know how much time passes, the only sounds are your heavy breathing and his harsh panting against your ear. Sweat drips down your back where he’s sliding over you, and his fingers bite into your thigh as he almost loses his grip. “You know whose office is on the other side of this wall?” he asks suddenly. “Answer me, baby!” A particularly harsh thrust follows the demand.
“No, Sir,” you pant.
“Fucking Deku.” He grits his teeth as that now familiar tingle goes right to his cock, but you don’t seem to notice the lie. “You think he’s in there right now? His desk is right on the other side.” You pussy squeezes around him, and Bakugou moans against the side of your neck. “I bet he can hear you in here panting like a whore as I fuck your slutty little cunt.”
Your back arches into him, the revelation reigniting the fire he lit inside you. That knot comes back, just as tight as before, and you tremble as you realize he’s going to make you cum again. “Ground Zero,” you whine.
He lets go of your thigh, but keeps your knee hooked around his elbow. His hand snakes around your hips to rub your clit, and you jerk against him. “He’s got some new intern, too. Some little high school brat.” A high-pitched, needy sound falls from your mouth. “Fuck, you sound so pretty when you moan my name.” He rolls your clit harder between his fingers, and the heat rolling from him is so sweltering that it’s hard to breathe. “Shit, you’re gonna be filling this kid’s fantasies for weeks. He’s probably gettin’ off to you right now.” His cock gets bigger inside you; his hips grind against you harder. “But your pussy’s mine, angel. Got that?”
You nod, delirious.
And, fuck, he just doesn’t stop talking. “You gonna cum?” he asks, fingers moving faster over your clit. “Gonna cum from thinking about Deku and his intern listening to me fuck you?” You shudder and gasp, shoving yourself back on his cock in a weak attempt to match his brutal pace. “That’s it, baby, cum on my fat cock. Let everyone know who’s making you feel so good. I wanna hear you scream so fucking loud that everyone in this goddamn building knows my name.”
Bakugou pinches your clit. Your eyes slam shut, body locking up as he throws you into another powerful climax. “Katsuki!” you shriek, his name ripping from your throat in a raw scream.
This time, he doesn’t hold himself back. A series of harsh thrusts drag out your orgasm until you’re sobbing, a few tears slipping out and rolling down your cheeks. His cock twitches, swelling, and he shoves inside of you as deep as he can go before cumming inside you, his thick seed filling you up and dripping down your thigh.
He doesn’t pull out, leaning his head against your shoulder as you both try and catch your breath. Bliss washes over you as he kisses your neck, mumbling a string of garbled praises against your ear.
You blush when something he said hits you full force, finally able to process it now that he’s not fucking you senseless. “Midoriya,” you gasp, trying to crane your head around to look at him.
Bakugou presses more of his weight against your back, slowly lowering your leg back to the floor. His hands grasp your hips when your legs threaten to collapse beneath you. “Bastards office is on the other wall,” he says, calming you down. “‘Sides, it’s his day off.”
Relief floods through you. “You have absolutely no filter, do you?”
He shrugs, kissing across your cheek. “I don’t see you complainin’.”
You laugh a little breathlessly. “You made me cum twice,” you remind him. “I don’t give a shit what you were saying.” You shift in his embrace, wincing as his cock moves inside you. Fuck, you’re sensitive.
He stills you. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he asks. When he sees your obviously confused look, he gives you a shallow thrust, his cock still hard inside you. “Oh, angel, we’ve still got thirty minutes, right? We’re just getting started.”
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circus4apsycho8 · 3 years
Text
more than a hug. | the batter x reader
Fandom: OFF
Pairing: The Batter x Reader
Warnings: jealousy, cussing
It was no surprise to you that the Elsen were very cuddly creatures. Not only that, but they were very squishy, too. You absolutely loved hugging the cute little guys! Who wouldn’t? They were warm, soft, and sweet.
The first time you had hugged an Elsen was after Dedan had finished yelling at the one. You and your beloved Batter had stepped out of the barn before you found yourself rushing over to the pitiful thing. How could you not? The poor guy looked like he was about to cry.
You were quick to scoop him into your arms. “Hush now. He’s just a mean old man. You did nothing wrong.”
He accepted your hug and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You hear him sniffle a little bit. “Th-thank you…hhh…you’re too kind.”
“You’re welcome,” you mumbled, hugging him a little tighter. You heard your Puppet awkwardly shuffle around, causing a deep chuckle to emanate from your chest. A few seconds later, you set him down onto the ground. The little Elsen had a slight blush on his cheeks.
“Miss, th-thank you and your…uh…friend here for purifying the barns. Even if it didn’t get noticed by the Inspector, we appreciate it…” he teeters off when he notices Batter glaring at him. You smack the Batter’s shoulder and smile down at the Elsen.
“You’re very welcome! Take care of yourself, alright? I think it’s about time we got a move on.” Batter remains silent as you bid the Elsen goodbye.
“I will! Good luck with…whatever you’re doing!” the Elsen wishes before the Batter grabs your hand and drags you behind him.
“Thank you!” you yell, waving at him before turning back to your Puppet.
“Dude, chill. You can let me go now,” you comment. He reluctantly releases his grip on you.
“What was that about?” he demands, looking anywhere but at you.
“He was about to cry, Batter! He was scared! I couldn’t just leave him like that!” you retort, rolling your eyes.
“He would have gotten over it.”
You sigh. “Sometimes a little kindness goes a long way, Batter.”
The second time you were cuddly with an Elsen is when you and Batter got stuck in the shopping mall maze. Batter was getting extremely frustrated and you just wanted to get the hell out of that blue hellhole.
So, when you and Batter found a lone Elsen who had claimed to be lost, you declared it was time to take a break.
“I’m lost,” the Elsen said, “I could make a fire with the boxes...to ward off the ghosts...but...that would be too dangerous.”
You immediately began to answer, but Batter pulled you back outside for a moment.
“Don’t answer him.”
You roll your eyes, growing annoyed. He couldn’t just boss you around like that. “He’s lost, Batter. We need to help him get out of here!”
“He can find his way out by himself.”
“Batter. He’s scared. Can’t we bring him with us? It’s only temporary. I can do all the talking, too!” you push, trying to decipher how he’s feeling. Batter frowns at your words, and not for the first time, you wish you could see his eyes. “He might attract a Spectre.”
And it was then and there you knew there was something else wrong. Throughout all of your travels, Batter had strived to attract Spectres so he could Purify them. Hell, he’d even shouted out to them in the smoke mines! So why was he so worried about attracting them now? Especially since they were much weaker here, too?
“Since when are you worried about attracting Spectres?” you grill, folding your arms and narrowing your eyes.
He doesn’t answer for a moment, clearly caught off guard. Shaking your head, you look back up at him. “Look, what’s up with you, man? This isn’t like you.”
“I don’t want him to come with us,” he answers. You don’t buy it, but at the same time you know he’s not going to crack just yet.
With a sigh, you say: “I don’t think that’s all, but I know you won’t tell me. Can’t he just come with us? Who knows, he might be of help!”
He remains silent for a few more moments, then: “Fine.”
You grin before darting back into the room. The Elsen looks up at you hopefully.
“Come on, we can help you get out,” you coo, smiling.
“Wh-what about the ghosts?” he asks.
“We can protect you from them. Trust me,” you answer before offering your hand to him. He takes it gratefully before you pull him up.
“Thank you very much, ma’am,” he replies. You hear the Batter scoff quietly from behind you.
“You’re welcome,” you respond.
“Let’s go,” comes Batter’s voice as he nearly stomps out of the room. You roll your ryes. So much for taking a break.
“Ignore him. He’s always grumpy,” you inform, taking his small hand and pulling him behind you.
During your trek through the exasperating maze, you noticed Batter was considerably quieter and tenser. Eventually, you had decided that he would tell you about whatever was bothering whenever it suited him. He seemed to be angry too, if the way he was taking out whatever monstrosity showed itself. It was almost like he didn’t want to listen to you but did anyway. His stubbornness grew to the point where you just allowed him to do whatever he wanted with the battles, so you could comfort the Elsen.
And when, finally, you five reached the Judge, the Elsen quickly thanked you and scampered off while Batter spoke to the Judge. You waved at the unfortunate Elsen before turning back to the conversation at hand.
“Is not this publicity so effective and efficient whilst defying the basics of consumer marketing?” the Judge says once he sees you. The two of them are facing some kind of advertisement painted on the wall.
“For silkier hair: the meat fountains of Alma,” Batter reads, clearly unamused.
“Oh, you can read? Anyway, I am glad to have found you. Maybe you can help me unravel the mystery that fate has placed before me,” the Judge comments. He glances up at you and smiles before trotting over to you. You sit down cross-legged against the wall before he crawls onto your lap. Smiling, you pet his soft fur.
“It turns out that my brother has been living in this area for many years. He has a special affinity for colors of the cool kind. Unfortunately, I have so far failed to cross his path. I have tried to betake myself to the roof of the library, where he resides. However, I found the door closed. Even the long hours of intensive, repeated meowing and compulsive scratching did not do a thing.”
“Aw, I’m sorry Judge. Is there anything we can do to help?” you question, scratching him behind his ear. He mewls in response, flipping over onto his back in a silent request for tummy rubs.
“My request is as follows: if at the bend of a corridor you happen to see Valerie, give him my greetings.”
You nod. “Will do.”
“Okay,” The Batter agrees. “Puppeteer, I’m going to go speak to Zacharie for a moment. Do you mind waiting here while I do so?”
You’re mildly surprised, but you agree anyway. “Uh, no, go ahead.”
“Thank you.” He saunters away, trusty bat in hand with Alpha and Omega following him.
You blink. “That was weird.”
“Eccentric of the Batter indeed,” agrees The Judge, “what do you think is amiss?”
“He’s been acting very…out of character lately,” you muse, “I’m not entirely sure what’s going on.” Is he mad at you? Should you be doing something differently? If so, then why isn’t he just talking to you about it? “I wonder if he’s mad at me.”
“I highly doubt that. Your beloved Puppet could never be angry with you for long,” The Judge responds.
You shake your head, causing the Judge to glance up at you. “I don’t know, Judge. If I did something wrong, he just…he needs to speak up. I guess I should ask him about that, huh?”
The Judge nods. “If you truly believe so, then communication is the sole solution.”
“Alright, then,” you sigh, sifting your fingers through his soft fur.
A few minutes later, Batter reappears in the room, the Add Ons at his side. It was then you realized he didn’t buy anything because you were the one holding the credits.
“You good?” you question as the Judge reluctantly slides off of your lap.
“Yes. We should go,” he answers, although you catch a glimpse of his cheeks, which are…wait, is he blushing? You wonder what the odd merchant had said this time around.
Before you left, however, you approached the masked merchant standing idly behind the counter.
“Ah, buenos dias, dearest Puppeteer. How could I be of assistance?”
“Could I see what you have on you?” you ask. He chuckles.
“Of course, belle femme,” he replies, showing you his wares. You’d grown used to the odd nicknames he gave you.
You ended buying a few Fortune Tickets and some meat, placing all purchased items in your inventory before bidding Zacharie goodbye. Before you can move away, however, the merchant catches your hand in his. You freeze, watching as he lifts his mask ever-so-slightly before he brings the back of your hand to his lips.
“It’s always a pleasure to serve this little ragtag team of yours. Sois prudente, jolie fille.” Releasing your hand, he chuckles at your shocked expression, smirking as he glances at your stunned Puppet.
“Th-thank you,” you stutter before Batter places his hand behind your back and pushes you out of the door.
Once you’re outside, you blink a few times before you’re able to speak again. “Dude. What. The. Fuck?”
Batter shakes his head, probably both at your choice of language and recent events. “Language. I don’t know why he’s…” he sighs.
“He’s so weird. Wait…aren’t you fluent in French? What did he say?” you question.
Batter huffs. “The first nickname was ‘beautiful woman’. The second one was ‘Be safe, pretty girl’.”
Your cheeks grow even redder upon hearing the translation. “W-what? Really?”
He nods, remaining silent as the two of you continue to the park.
“Puppeteer…” he starts, voice soft.
“Yeah?” you ask, looking up at him. He avoids your gaze blatantly.
“I…” he trails off before continuing, “I think we should rest in Zone 0 before going to the park.”
You nod, the exhaustion of getting through the maze catching up with you. “Agreed.”
Once you two have reached the abandoned Zone, Batter hurriedly guides you past Zacharie, despite his greeting, and ushers to the upper levels.
“Which floor would you like to stay on?” he questions.
“Here’s fine,” you respond, sliding onto the floor. He hesitates before sitting next to you and dropping his bat onto the floor. You lean your head on his shoulder, causing him to tense up a bit before relaxing.
You hear him sigh again. “I’ve upset you, haven’t I?” His voice sounds uncharacteristically sullen for a man as stoic as he usually is.
“Kind of. I just wish you would talk to me. What’s going on with you, Batter? You’ve been acting weird lately.”
He heaves yet another sigh as you straighten your neck and shift. Batter looks up at you while you move. You end up straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. He stiffens at your gentle touches. From this angle, you can finally see his eyes.
You can’t tell exactly what color his eyes are, so you reach up before grasping the brim of his hat. He catches your wrist gently before you can pull it off all the way.
“Do you mind?” you whisper. “I really want to see your eyes.”
His grip on your wrist loosens before he removes it completely. “Go ahead.”
You smile at him in a silent thank-you before you remove it.
His eyes are a pretty shade of amber. They hold a kind of exhaustion that could only be obtained by fighting for something one couldn’t accomplish.
“Your eyes are beautiful,” you comment, smiling, “why didn’t you want me to see them?”
He bites his lip for a moment before looking away. “I am not entirely sure. I guess I just…don’t want you to see my…my real ones.”
“Your real ones?” you question, tilting your head slightly.
“Yes,” he confirms, placing a hand on your cheek. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“You won’t, Batter. Will you show me, please?” you ask, enjoying the feeling of his hands.
“Very well,” he says, “will you close your eyes for a moment?”
You obey quietly, pressing a hand against his. His hands are much bigger than yours as well as drier and calloused from using his bat so much.
“You may open your eyes now.”
Upon opening them, you find that his amber orbs have been replaced with four eyes. The irises are a deep shade of burgundy while the rest of the eye is a pretty crimson color.
“Whoa,” you breathe, removing your hand in order to trace the skin around his eyes. Even though it’s definitely unnatural for a human, he still looks handsome. “Those are even cooler!”
“You think so?” he questions, still unsure.
“Yes. I mean…I’ve never met anyone with red eyes before. I…I think they look even better than your other ones,” you confess, smiling shyly at him.
He studies your face for a moment before a teensy little smile lights up his face. “Thank you, Puppeteer. Thank you.”
You chuckle. “That’s what you get for having a pretty face. Now,” you lean back a little. “What’s been going on with you?”
His little blush is back, which almost makes you giggle. “Well…it has to do with what I talked to Zacharie about earlier.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. I…whenever I saw you hugging the Elsen or just…being affectionate with someone else, it made me angry. I wasn’t sure what exactly why I was; after all, you were just trying to be comforting. I knew Zacharie would have an answer, and he did. He informed me that…I should tell you. I wasn’t sure how. Eventually, he told me that…I was…jealous.”
You chuckle. “If you wanted a hug you should’ve just asked,” you respond, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself to him. Burying your face into the crook of his neck, you smile as you feel him return it with a relieved smile. He loosely wraps his strong arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You note that he smells like…bubblegum? Not just any bubblegum, but the kind that’s sort of stringy? Like the baseball gum. You chuckle, inhaling his scent.
Suddenly, he slides his hands up to your neck and he gently pushes you back a little bit, rubbing the tips of his thumbs over your jawline. You move your hands to his chest, right over his heart. It steadily beat beneath your fingertips. After that, your gaze sinks down to see his lips: they’re dry and chapped, but still so, so kissable.
The Batter releases a grunt before he pulls you forward, and your lips collide. He’s gentle and slow at first, testing the waters. When the two of you break apart for a moment, you go in for another one again; this time around, it gets a little more heated.
His hands slide back down to your waist, where he pulls your torso to his. You find your hands tangled in his ivory white hair. You feel him running his hands along your curves, to the small of your back, then retreating to your waist again.
You’re pulled back by the need for air. As you gaze into his red eyes, you recollect just why you love this man. He had protected you, tried to help you when no one else would. Even when he did get a little snappy, it was because he wasn’t exactly sure what to make of both the situation and his own feelings. It was there when you were looking at him, you realized he felt the same way.
He breathes your name, brushing a hand against your cheek again. You can tell he’s at a lost for words.
“I had a feeling you wanted more than a hug.”
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fangirlings-things · 3 years
Text
To get the job done
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x female reader
Word count: 5.1K
Summary: going undercover as a couple with your boss in order to serve as bait for an unsub, definitely should have been more... professional
Warnings: smut, sexual innuendos, chocking, language, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected sex
A/N: I wrote this in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep and couldn't shake this idea out of my head lol. this is my first hotch smut ever written so I hope this is good. hope you guys enjoy this, lots of love!!!
TAG LIST: @imaginesofyourfandom ; @locke-writes ; @regalbanshee || GIF IS NOT MINE
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“It’s not working”
Between the loud music resonating through the nightclub and the proximity of civilians who shouldn’t hear your words, you had come closer to Hotch to speak, so that he could fully understand what you were saying. As you did, mouth close to his ear, you were able to smell the scent of perfume coming from him. That was a good smell.
You both had done your best to look incredibly good on that night, for the operation the BAU had developed alongside the local police department on the last two days. As the unsub had been targeting couples on that nightclub specifically and there were no bodies to sustain the accusation even though he had been the last one seen with all those people, the best approach was to use a bait and catch him in the act.
At first you believed you were going in undercover with Morgan, what you guys had already done before when the situation called for it. But according to the profile and the fact that all the previous disappeared male victims were white, the team agreed that it would be better to send Hotch, and that was how you ended up playing couple with your boss, something you were sure shouldn’t be making you as nervous as it was.
“We've only been here for half an hour, (Y/N)” Hotch replied, eyes wondering around a bit before he focused on you and smiled tenderly, placing a hand on your cheek. You had been exchanging soft touches like that, to blind in between the other couples present. “Maybe he isn’t here yet”
You sighted heavily, but nodded in agreement, because there was a good chance he was right. For another hour, you and Hotch kept on to your disguise. You smiled at each other, even danced a bit, which really made you laugh because you had never pictured your boss doing such thing, and he had managed to laugh a bit as well. At some point, you felt his hands circling your waist and pulling you close towards his own body. You couldn’t deny the shiver that ran down your spine in that moment.
Time passed and passed, and except for a woman that got close to flirt with Hotch that he politely dismissed by holding your hand, nothing happened. The unsub didn’t approach you, like he had done to the other missing couples. Only then, a thought occurred to you and you remembered something important about the abductions. Or more exactly, previously to those.
“Hotch, we forgot something” you said, slowly pulling him by the arm to one of the corners of the club, like you where just getting away from the crowd to make out a bit.
“What?” he asked, frowning while trying to keep a relaxed expression on his features. Under the shinning lights of the nightclub, his short hair and white shirt with the two first buttons open and sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he looked extremely handsome. Not that you hadn’t noticed it already on a daily basis, but then, he was your boss. On this night… he was playing your boyfriend. You had some kind of permission to allow yourself to think such thing.
“The unsub's method. What made him choose those couples instead of all the others” you said, pressing your back against the wall and bringing him close to you with a smile, feeling other people’s eyes on you both. His hands found your waist and stayed there, unmoving. “He likes to play the gentleman before actually abducting the couples” you told Hotch, hands running up his uncovered by the rolled sleeves arms. “Witnesses said they saw the male and the female getting into some kind of discussion, that the men were sometimes violent with their girlfriends, so the unsub would come and defend her” you saw that he had understood what you meant even before you said the words. “You have to be violent with me”
“So he gets to play the good guy with the women before abducting them and the boyfriends, to later kill them both” he completed your line of thought and you nodded, agreeing. “(Y/N)…” Hotch then began, hesitant. You saw the way he squeezed his lips on a thin line and sighted heavily, looking around again before getting his gaze fixed on you. “are you sure this is what we have to do?”
“I am” you guaranteed, eyes fixed on his as seriousness filled your tone. Hotch stared at you for a long moment as if he was thinking about it, but then he pulled back, taking his hands away from you and stepping back like he suddenly wanted distance. Fearing it would blow your cover, you looked at him even more seriously now. “Hotch? Come on! You have to…”
Before you could finish your sentence, expressing your indignation for his hesitation to get the job done, he closed the gap between you both once again, body now fully pressed against yours. His breath was on your face, heavy and hot. One of his hands, had gone to your throat. He was squeezing your neck, fingertips digging into your skin just enough to put some pressure on it.
“Why can’t you ever stop talking” his voice came out rough, irritated. With widened eyes because of the fact that he was suddenly all upon you, you realized that Hotch was playing along. He was following the plan. And really, you wanted to think about the unsub, but it proved to be really hard when you had Hotch’s hand around your throat and his breath on your face. The scent of his perfume, so close… you felt intoxicated by him in the best way possible.
“Hotch…” you began, glad that he had to be the one leading the actions and not you. Honestly, professionalism was the last thing on your mind in that moment and even though you knew it was wrong, you couldn’t help it.
“Shut up” he replied in the same instant, which made you go instantly quiet, as his hand increased the pressure on your neck just a bit. The fake anger was there in his voice but in his eyes, there was no such thing. They were cautious, inspecting your features to see if you were comfortable with this. You stared back at him silently and he understood, that you were good to keep up the little scene, which set him into action once again. “Just shut the fuck up for a moment” his hand moved further up your throat, brushing against your skin smoothly as it went. He only stopped when he was finally able to touch your bottom lip with his thumb, eyes on your lips as he did so. “Just shut up”
And right and there, you did something you couldn’t have predicted.
You moaned.
A low, breathy moan that you silently wished for him to not have heard, but of course he had, being pressed up against you like that. You closed your eyes for a long moment, embarrassed and desperately wanted to disappear. You had just moaned because of the hand of your boss around your throat. That wasn’t something you felt quite pride of. Still, you forced yourself to open your eyes and stare at Hotch. His eyes… they were unreadable. Even though you were a profiler, you had no idea what was on his mind. None.
Before you could think of anything to say, suddenly a man approached you and Hotch, getting too close. He was extremely tall, had brown eyes and blond hair. There was a calm expression on his features, the kind of expression you had often seen in the faces of unsubs when they talked about their crimes. “Hey, you’re hurting the lady, man!”
As both of your attentions were on him now, that being the unsub the police had already locked up but then let go because of the lack of evidences, Hotch released his hand from your throat, but then he grabbed your forearm with it, keeping you in place. When he spoke, he used the best angered voice he had. “I’m having a private conversation with my girlfriend. Why don’t you leave?”
The unsub focused his gaze on you, ignoring Hotch like he hadn't even spoken. “Is he hurting you?”
“Yeah, (Y/N), am I hurting you?” Hotch said turning to you too, provoking the unsub by forcing you to share the full attention he clearly wanted.
“No” you replied, eyes going from Hotch to the unsub. Looking into the latter's eyes, you forced yourself to give out a little smile. “I’m fine, but thank you” and as to reassure him, you gently placed your hand on his arm.
You heard Hotch take a deep breath by your side, annoyed by you touching the other man, and then he gripped really tightly at your arm. “We are leaving” and then without warning, he began to drag you towards the exit. You didn’t have to look back to know that the unsub was following you both.
“The others are outside, right?” you whispered to Hotch, as he continued to drag you along between the great amount of people.
“Yes, Morgan has a S.W.A.T team on the roof top of the next building” he said back, while pushing open the door of the nightclub. Instantly, the cold air of the night outside the place made you shiver, because of the great amount of exposed skin from your dress. Without saying anything else, he continued to drag you along. Seconds later, you heard the door being opened and closed again.
“Hey!” a voice that clearly belonged to the unsub said and you and Hotch stopped, turning around to look at him. He had pulled out a gun, and had it pointed directly to your face. “Come here you both, or I’ll shoot her right in her pretty face”
“Alright man, take it easy!” Hotch let go of you, raised his hands in the air and motioned for you to walk alongside him. You placed the most scared look you could on your face as you walked towards the unsub.
When you and Hotch had already closed half of the distance between you both and the unsub, armed agents appeared from every corner of the empty, barely illuminated parking lot, pointing their guns to the unsub.
“Richard Jones, put the gun down right now!” Morgan’s firm voice echoed through the parking lot as he screamed, standing just a few feet away from the man.
The unsub looked from the many agents to you both and seeing the controlled expressions on your faces, he clenched his jaw, filled with anger. “You two are cops, aren’t you?” hearing the instability in his voice, Hotch took a step forward to stand in front of you, shielding you with his own body. “Son of a…” the unsub took a enraged step forward and then the sound of a shot filled the night. In the same instant, the unsub fell to the ground, dropping the gun and using the now free hand to press on his shoulder, where the bullet had hit him.
Morgan quickly ran towards the fallen unsub and kicked the gun away from his reach. “You two good?” he asked without turning around, still pointing his gun to the now unharmed unsub.
“Yeah, we’re fine” you said, after touching Hotch’s shoulder for a moment. He just nodded, fine. Good.
The ambulance came after ten minutes to take the unsub to the closest hospital. Morgan talked to the local officers to decide which one would accompany Jones there and Reid and Prentiss had just congratulated you for the good job. Rossi, talked to Hotch a few feet away from where you were. When Spencer and Emily walked away to verify some last things with the paramedics, Hotch approached you.
“Good job” he said, hands on the pockets of his pants. The professionalism was back, now that the operation was done. The boss was back like he had never left.
“Thanks. You too” you gave him a smile, eyes on the paramedics that were just putting Jones inside the ambulance. “That’s how he did it. He threatened the women to make the men comply to whatever he said”
“He envied the men, they were always his real target. He overpowered the men and probably made them watch whatever he did to the girlfriends” Hotch said, also looking at the unsub.
“Do you think we will find the bodies?” you asked, frustrated. Now, Jones could be charged for the crimes but the families of the victims had nothing to hold on to. No bodies to bury. The thought was awful.
“I don’t think so” Hotch replied, as clear and honest as ever. The sound of the ambulance's doors being closed made itself heard and then Hotch sighted and put himself in front of you, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that beautifully defined the muscles of his arms. “(Y/N), about what happened in there…” for a second you thought he was going to mention your moan and all air left your lungs. But thankfully, he didn’t. “I hope I didn’t hurt you too badly. Gripping you like that”
“Oh, you didn’t” you rushed yourself into saying, trying to calm down your still heavy beating heart. You gave him another smile and a shrug. “We just did what we had to do to get the job done, right?”
“(Y/N)!” Reid called you, standing close to one of the SUV's, motioning for you to come close.
You briefly touched Hotch’s arm. “Don’t worry, Hotch” and giving him one last friendly smile you walked away towards Reid, taking a deep breath as you did so. Being under Hotch’s stare had never been so intense, exciting and anxious all the same.
With every step you took, you wondered if you would ever be able to look at Hotch like you did before that night. Merely as your boss and a friend.
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It turned out, things weren’t the same anymore.
It had been a month since that case were you and Hotch had gone undercover together as a couple. A month. It always felt like it had happened on the previous day to the one you were living. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that night away from your mind.
Everytime Hotch would sit close to you at the jet and you would smell his perfume, you would inevitably close your eyes and remember the feeling of having his hands on your waist. When he would hand you a file and your hands would end up casually brushing against one another, you would remember having that same hand closed around your throat and that thought alone would make you have to hold back a whimper.
Truth was you wouldn’t be able to deny your attraction to your boss to anyone that asked about it. Thankfully though, you hadn’t wore wires on that night and no other members of the team had gone into the club. So, those moments had belonged only to you both. Your corrupted mind, was more than grateful for it.
“(Y/N), my love?” Garcia’s voice brought you back to reality, making you snap out of your thoughts and focus your eyes on hers. She was staring at you with a smile and curious eyes. “Now, you were daydreaming about some lucky sugar out there”
Cleaning your throat, you did your best to keep on a straight face. It was unbelievable how even though you daily spent your time with profilers, she could be more perceptive than all of them went it came to emotions and personal innuendos. “I’m sorry Penelope, I drifted away. Was is it?”
She stared at you with interested eyes for a few more moments before looking down at the table you were both sitting at for hours now, at the lobby of the hotel you had all booked in the city. “Well, I just finished doing all the background check I could get on the previous victims, like you guys asked me to” she handed you a folder, filled with information that certainly would be significant for the current investigation the team was working on. You were glad she had travelled with you all for this case.
“Penelope, you’re amazing” you grabbed the folder and took a few glares to the pages inside of it, before closing it again and looking back at her. “We should call it for the day and get some rest like the others”
“I’ll do that, I just have to check one last thing. Will you please spare me the trouble and take this to Hotch on your way to have some amazingly good sleep?” she pouted, knowing you wouldn’t be able to resist such a request.
“Sure” you said, thinking about the fact that you had just agreed on going to Hotch’s room to deliver him the folder in the middle of the night. You took a deep breath before standing up. “Goodnight, Penelope”
“Rest well, my lovely friend” she winked at you and you smiled back at her before making your way to the elevator. You were all staying on the same floor, so you pressed the bottom to the seventh floor and waited with a fast beating her inside the elevator, that seemed to get to the said floor too soon. Too fast.
Room 220. You stared at it's door for what seemed to be hours. You thought about Hotch inside. The fact that you were about to come in. Him, alone. Alone with you. Like you two had been on that nightclub.
Taking a deep breath, you concentrated on stopping those wondering thoughts and knocked on the door. The answer came seconds later, an 'enter' you would often hear at the office. Of course he had been waiting awake for the files. That was Hotch, after all.
Taking another deep breath you opened the door and your gaze immediately met Hotch, who stood with his arms crossed over his chest close to the table placed at the corner of the room. Pictures and other files filled it and he looked through it like always, searching for leads and trying to begin the building of the unsub's profile. He had removed his black suit and red tie, standing there with just a white shirt covering his upper body. Just like on the nightclub.
“Hey, I’m sorry to bother, but Garcia asked me to bring you these files” you raised the folder in the air, a small polite smile on your lips as you did so.
“Thank you” he crossed the distance of the room towards you and stopped just two steps away. You handed him the folder, and he looked inside it for long moments before looking back to you so your eyes would meet. “Do you want to help me go over this knew information?”
You swallowed dry at the suggestion you hadn’t been expecting. Who needed to sleep when you could just spend time with the man you daydreamed about, right? This thought, got the next words out of your mouth. “Yeah, sure”
“Okay, close the door” Hotch said with that professional tone of his, nodding in the door's direction before turning around and going back to stand close to the table. You did close the door and then went to stand by him, looking at all the files splayed out in quite a mess. “I still haven’t been able to make any progress with the profile”
“Well, we’ve only been here for two days” you said, getting some of the crime scene pictures in your hands and looking attentively at them, searching for anything that might have passed your attentions before. “we don’t have much but we’ll get the job done, like we always do”
Then, Hotch chuckled. The sound was so unexpected and it happened to rarely that you instantly stopped looking at the photos, placed them back at the table and then turned with a frown to look at your boss, not being able to stop yourself from smiling a bit. “What?”
“Nothing, is just that…” he shrugged, arms still crossed over his chest and eyes not staring into yours. “we have been making a great team lately” and then he looked at you. And he must have recognized the conflicted expression on your features, because the intensity of his eyes suddenly became too much to bare. And still, you found yourself unable to look away.
“Yeah, we have” you found it within yourself to answer those simple three words and then it happened exactly like in the nightclub. Before you could even realize what was happening, Hotch got closer and closer until his body was almost touching yours. Painfully almost.
“Can I?” he asked, staring into your eyes with beautiful fixation. His breathing was heavy and it made you realize that you weren’t the only one nervous in that room. You just nodded, staring back at him with your heart beating so hard and fast inside your chest it seemed like it would explode. Slowly Hotch raised his eyes and placed them on your cheeks, fingertips caressing the skin beneath them gently. And then, even more slowly, he closed the gap between you both and touched your lips with his.
It wasn’t even a proper kiss. Just a brush of mouths. Curious, anxious, insecure. He brushed his lips against yours and stopped, as if giving you time to decide what to do. To have Hotch there like that, with you like you wanted him to be, it went to your head in a burst of delight and you were the one who urged forward and fully pressed your lips together, hands going to rest on his forearms. He tasted good. So unique, so fine.
You kissed slowly. Exploring, getting to know each other’s mouths little by little with tongues and lips. But then you got impatient, excited, and you pressed your lips more hardly against his, wanting to make those kisses as deep and breath taking as you could. Hotch responded immediately at that incentive, kissing you just as intensively as you wanted him to. And so, one of his hands slipped down to your throat and he squeezed it slightly, putting pressure. Such an amazing pressure. And it made you moan. At that point, after all those kisses, you didn’t even bother to try to repress it.
“I have been wanting to make you moan again since that night” Hotch said against your lips and that, actually made you moan again. Louder this time and it made his squeeze on your neck get tighter and if you were being honest, you weren’t having it any other way.
You kept on kissing, bodies fully pressed against one another, mouths devouring each other unstoppably until your hands found the buttons of his shirt and you started opening them. It seemed to take hours but you finally managed to slip the shirt out of him, the piece of clothing ending up on the floor just to be shortly joined by your own t-shirt.
Hotch’s hands then were on your waist, gripping at the bare skin of your hips in a way that made you weak. One of your hands was on his cheek and the other, played with the short hair at the back of his neck. Together you moved towards the bed, mouths only letting go to do so. You pushed Hotch to the bed and he sat at the edge of it, looking up at you breathless and with his mouth very reddened from the kisses. He was beautiful.
You moved to sit on his lap, hands on his neck and mouth back on his because you already missed it. Through the layers of your intimate clothes and both of your pants, you felt his hard member beneath you. As you kissed you pressed your body down into him, pressing his member, and his breath hissed. You smiled.
Hotch gripped your thighs with his hands firmly and flipped you both around, making you lay back on the bed as he got above you. He kissed you, tongue exploring your mouth and hands squeezing so tightly your thighs that you felt like you were going to burst.
His hands went to open the button of your jeans and you helped him get rid of it. Another piece on the floor. Then, after giving you a series of quick kisses, Hotch stood up from the bed and started to take out his own pants. You just watched him, smiling with your bottom lip caught between your teeth.
“Liking the view?” he asked with a smirk, and oh, that was a version of Hotch you could easily get used to. The way he took out the pants and disposed it to the side, standing now in just black boxer briefs, eyes not leaving you not for a second, that was something you wanted to mark in your memory.
“How could I not?” you replied just when he knelt back on the bed and then, crawled his way to be on top of you again. Looking up at his face, you sighted. That was amazing. What was happening… you couldn’t have predicted it not even in your best dreams.
Hotch kissed you again, hands traveling to your back just so that he could undo your bra. One more piece gone. One of his hands slowly found your left breast and he caressed it in his hands, making you moan again and again. He kissed you. He kissed your breasts. He kissed you again. His hands caressed your skin unstoppably.
“Hotch…” you moaned his name when he began to give you small bites here and there, the feeling of your skin between his teeth making you suck in a breath. He probably noticed the desperation in your voice, because next thing you knew he was sliding his kisses down to your belly and then, he kissed your pussy from above your panties. “Hotch” his name was emitted from your mouth again, louder this time.
He took his time just kissing you like that, with that layer between his mouth and your intimacy. Torturing you to the most. When he found it proper he removed your panties using both of his hands and after discarding them just like he had done with his pants, he used his hands to spread your thighs and get his face close to your pussy. He kissed your thighs, ignoring your intimacy. You could feel his hot breath down there and it made you lose your mind. You could almost feel yourself dripping your wetness into the bed.
“Hotch!” you urged him to stop teasing, eyes shut and chest raising and falling incredibly fast due to your erratic breathing. The moan you gave out when his mouth finally came in contact with your pussy was obscene. Was loud and you did not give a damn about it because you had your boss's face between your legs and that was it. That was all you cared about right then.
He sure as hell knew what to do with his mouth. He kissed, sucked and he fucked you with his tongue, his saliva mixed with the wetness of your own body making you become a moaning mess. Your hands went to his short hair and you gripped tightly at it, pulling. You moaned again, and that made him moan a bit. Suddenly the feeling of his mouth was gone and you felt extremely disappointed. Just a bit more…
One of his fingers found it’s way inside your body and your moan was cut short by his mouth back on yours. You tasted yourself on his mouth and the thought alone almost made you come. After a couple seconds, another finger joined in and the feeling of having them coming in and out of your body was incredible. Your hands stayed in his hair, pulling and gripping like you were holding yourself into dear life.
His movements were slow, calculated. The kisses were deep. At some point, you made it know you wanted more by sliding one of your hands down between both of your bodies and touching him through his briefs. He stopped kissing you, stopped the movements of his hand and looked into your eyes. You smiled at each other, and then he pulled back away from you to get rid of the last layer. The last piece ended on the floor.
You motioned to grab at his hard member, bit he held your wrist gently halfway and you frowned. “Another time. Right now” he came close again and with one of his hands, stroked your hair for a bit. “I want to make you feel good”
“Okay” you managed to say, already excited by the idea of 'another time'. You were certain, that was something you wanted to keep happening and for the look on Hotch’s face, he did too.
You both moaned together when he entered your body with his member. Finally. His mouth and fingers had made you as slick and open they could and you managed to fit all of him inside of you, all pain disappearing in just a few moments as you locked your legs around his waist.
Hotch looked into your eyes again, smiled by seeing your clearly pleasured expression and then began to move. Slowly, enjoying every bit of it. But after so much previous teasing, he couldn’t hold himself back too much and hearing you moan like that, probably didn’t help his state of mind.
His movements became rough, fast. You both moaned and moaned, each other’s names being the only thing leaving your mouths. One of Hotch’s hands found your throat and the feeling of his fucking you with the squeeze on your neck made you come, moaning loudly. So loudly. Hotch came just a few movements after, moaning too.
He laid beside you, both of you breathing heavily with your skins glistening in sweat. You kissed him once more before snuggling up to his chest and closing his eyes, you fell asleep.
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“Morning, guys” Prentiss said, yawning while joining the rest of the team in the hotel lobby. The sun had just raised itself in the sky and you were all heading to the local precinct.
“Morning” Morgan replied, smiling by her clearly sleepy face. Sitting by Garcia’s side in one of the couches, he had a cup of coffee in his hand. “Hope you all had a nice night of sleep, because this day will probably be too long”
“I couldn’t sleep until four” Reid said with a heavy sight, also having a cup of coffee in his hands. Standing beside you, he looked to Hotch and then back at you before whispering. “The walls were really thin”
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weirdkittenhere · 3 years
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Lost chance
Fandom: Tears of Themis
Paring: Artem x f!reader
Genre: a tiny bit of angst at the beginning and then fluffffffff
Synopsis: A new rookie at the firm was starting to be a bit too friendly with y/n and Artem did not like that.
A/N: Very self-indulged
w/c: ~1,5k
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There you were again. Standing there with that gorgeous smile of yours. The only problem was that it wasn’t aimed at him. He sighed silently, praying for the coffee machine to work faster so he wouldn’t have to look at you much longer. He has a coffee machine in his office but he still goes to the pantry every time, as a habit. A habit, he developed so he can see you more often. Even though you're partners and you’re seeing each other most of the time, he wanted more. Even if he wasn’t able to admit it, he enjoyed spending time with you, a bit more for it to be just a work relationship.
That was until the new rookie appeared at the firm, and started to fawn all over you all the time. You were talking, laughing, and generally looked like you enjoyed each other's company. He was doing all the things Artem was too scared or embarrassed to do. And it was killing him seeing you so happy because of someone else. Every time he sees you together, his heart breaks a little.
“You should’ve made a move before. Now you lost your chance, coward” he thought to himself, swallowing the bitterness in his throat. He took his cup and went to his office, not looking in your direction anymore.
After some time while he was burying himself with work to stop thinking about you, you went through the door of your shared office with a loud sigh. You plopped onto your desk chair and hid your face in your hands. That worried him a little.
“Something happened?” He frowned forgetting about his work and you sighed again
“Sorry, It’s nothing related to work I’m just… tired”
“If you want you can take a break for the rest of the day. We don’t have anything urgent, I can drive you home and-” You interrupted him.
“No no, I’m not tired because of work.” You hesitated. You didn’t think it would be appropriate to talk about your personal problems with your superior, but on the other hand, after such a long time of working with him and sharing so many conversations about private matters too, you really wanted to let out what was bothering you. You sighed again. “It’s this new guy, John.” He perked up at this name, his grip on the pen tighten. “He’s starting to be… annoying.” He blinked a few times. But you were so happy talking with him? And now you're saying he annoys you? “I’m- sorry I shouldn’t have talked about my personal problems” You shook your head
“No no!” He exclaimed a bit too loud to his liking. He coughed. “I’m… happy to listen to anything you have to say if it helps you.” He couldn't lose another chance. You smiled gently at his words, feeling soft inside.
“Well then... he was funny at first, but now he just… he’s desperately trying to go out with me even though I said no multiple times. But he’s so persistent and tells me that I'll change my mind when I get to know him. He just can’t understand that I'm not interested!” You got carried away and almost yelled the last part. “Sorry I went off the deep end” You looked away a bit embarrassed. Meanwhile, Artem was fuming from his seat. He took a deep breath and tried very hard to keep his cool.
“I’m glad you told me this. If he starts bothering you again, don’t be afraid to come to me and I’ll... talk to him about it. You won’t have to deal with him anymore” You looked at him shocked and blinked a few times
“Artem, it’s fine, he’s just annoying that’s all”
“No. You told him clearly no and he keeps pushing you instead of accepting your decision. I won’t let him disrespect anyone at the firm, especially y-... my employees.” He coughed trying to hide what almost slipped through his mouth.
“I- don’t know what to say.” You said shyly, couldn’t hide a smile from your face. “Thank you, Artem”
“Don’t mention it. It’s nothing” He shook his head turning back to the computer screen to his neglected work. Ironically, he feels a lot better knowing you're not interested in him and he has new hope. And this time, he won't lose his chance.
The next day he arrived at the firm and, as usual, went straight to his office. Going through the pantry he saw the person he wanted to see the most, y/n and your infamous colleague, but after your talk yesterday, he wasn’t sulking while looking at you anymore. When he wanted to greet you and continue his way to the office, you called out to him with a pleading gaze, which alerted him.
“Hello Artem, John was just talking about a new movie premiere this weekend, I was thinking we could go as a group with other people from the firm? What do you think?” You said with a polite smile, but John grabbed your arm and gently took you aside before he could answer.
“Please excuse us for a moment.” He said but Artem had no intention of leaving you both alone, especially after seeing how uncomfortable you looked and how you tried to stop him from touching you.
“I apologize, but that’s something I can’t do.” He answered immediately, freeing you from his grip, and shielding you behind him. Before John was able to protest, Artem looked at him with a sharp, cold gaze and frowning his brows. He looked so intimidating, the guy was only able to swallow his saliva “I don’t recall her giving you permission to touch her like that. Moreover, I believe she already refused your invitations on going out on multiple occasions, no? Aside from that, if you can’t tell when a lady is clearly uncomfortable in your presence, I advise you not to bother them, until you learn how to respect them. In summary, leave her alone, and grow up before you try to approach any other woman. Do I make myself clear?” The guy was so flabbergasted, he only managed to nod his head. “Good. Because next time I might not be able to keep calm like this.” He loosened his fist he didn’t even realize he clenched and turned around to face y/n. He gently took your wrist, wary of your reaction, and went in the direction of the office. You were only able to look at him from the side with admiration, completely stunned.
When you arrived at the destination, he released your arm and after a few seconds of silence he spoke
“I’m… sorry if I overstep your boundaries. I got carried away.” While he was thinking about his next words, you coughed gently, a shade of pink dusting your cheeks.
“No no, you didn’t do anything wrong. I’m thankful you intervened. He was starting to be more and more pushy.” You spoke softly, averting your gaze.
“Are you ok? He didn’t do anything to you?” He stepped closer to you, taking your hands into his and inspecting your silhouette, worried what he might have done to you.
“No, I’m fine. Thank you again, really.” You looked up at him, into his mesmerizing azure eyes. You drowned in them for a second, your cheeks becoming a bit redder.
“Don’t mention it. I’m glad you're okay” He smiled softly, his thumbs gently stroking knuckles on your hands. His heart almost explodes in his chest while he’s looking into your eyes. The temperature in this room rose to dangerous values and only then, he realized what he was doing. His cheeks instantly became bright red, he dropped your hands and stepped aside turning around to his desk, coughing harshly. You covered your red face with one hand, the other grabbed the wall to support your weak knees.
“Well then!” He finally said “I’ll send you a few files that I found concerning Mrs. Tailor’s case”
“erm… Artem?”
“Yes?” He said not looking at you. Then you took a deep breath and mustered all the courage you had left in your body.
“About the movie premiere this weekend… do you… wanna go with me?” Your head was turned right and you weren't looking at him. However, your words made him perk up in slight surprise and he looked at you, wanting to make sure he heard that correctly.
“I’d love to” He couldn’t stop the smile on his face. His, almost instant response, made you give him a quick peek with a blush on your face and a smile creeping up on your lips as well.
After that, both of you came back to work, but couldn’t stop your racing hearts at a thought of the weekend.
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©weirdkittenhere 2021
Thanks for reading <3
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We Don't Talk (About That) [Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader]
Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None Summary: Affection has never been Cassandra's strong point- neither the giving nor the receiving of it. But when it comes to you, she's determined to try, regardless of the obstacles in her path. Notes: Spiritual sequel to Everybody Talks Too Much, but they can be read in any order. Reader is selectively mute, but ends up talking in this one, partially due to being high on a fever, oops. The reader in this one is also a lil bit sassier than some of my other ones, hence why it has tentatively earned my "blunt teeth sharp tongue" tag.
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“Seriously? You’re wearing white for this?” Cassandra says, eying you with a look of disbelief. All you can really do is shrug in response. After all, your hands are occupied with your current task: Wiping blood off of the corridor floor. That didn’t leave much room for miming, or writing anything down. “You’re going to fuck up your sleeves, you know that, right?” Another shrug, this time with an added humming noise, just for fun. Honestly, you weren’t even sure why Cassandra was hanging out, let alone why she cared if you got your shirt dirty. It’s not like she would be the one to do the laundry. More than that, she was the one who had decided to punish a maiden in the middle of the hallway.
Still, you would never think to voice your questions, or otherwise indicate your feelings. Not that you had feelings about her, or anything, the mere idea of that was ridiculous. For a completely unrelated reason you find yourself glad that she could not see your cheeks from where she stood. Glad I don’t talk, you think, otherwise I’d probably say something really stupid right now. Instead, you focus on your work, scrubbing hard at the floors. Despite your companion’s warning, not even a single drop of blood ends up staining your clothing. That’s why I rolled up my sleeves first, babe!... And that’s why I don’t talk, you think, shaking your head to clear your thoughts.
“That was fast. Sure you didn’t miss a spot?” Cassandra asks, stepping over to where you had cleaned. Before you can protest she’s leaning down to examine the floor. Which would, you know, be fine. If she didn’t have blood (and dirt, and who knows what else) on her gloves, that is. Groaning, you try to slap her wrist, temporarily forgetting your place. Next thing you know she’s pushing you to the ground, on top of you with her hand posed to strike. You flinch, instantly, clamping your eyes shut to prepare for the inevitable. But, just as quickly as she had gotten on you, she climbs right off, refusing to meet your confused gaze, refusing to answer your unspoken questions. “You’re lucky that mother thinks you’re useful,” she spat, leaving you with one last angry huff.
“What the fuck?...” You whisper, as soon as you think she won’t be able to hear you. Of all the things she could have possibly done in response… this was the only one you couldn’t justify. There’s only one thing that could possibly help you cope with your confusion: Cleaning. Thankfully, the same person who had just flipped your mind upside down had also left a few boot prints in her path. Humming softly to yourself, you get right back to work, gleefully ignoring what had just transpired.
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“Why do they do that?” Cassandra snapped, storming into the library, immediately demanding her older sister’s attention. However, Bela does not respond, merely looking up from her book with an eyebrow raised. Frustrated, Cassandra sits down at the table before slamming her fists onto it. At this, Bela sets her book to the side, realizing that she couldn’t ignore this tantrum. “Oh come on, you know exactly who I’m talking about!”
“Yes, I do, because they’re the only person you’ve given a damn about in a decade, maybe longer,” Bela replies, rolling her eyes. “But that doesn’t mean I have any clue what you’re complaining about this time. What did they do, hmm? Did they brush their hand up against yours? Make a heart with their hands again? Oh, let me guess, they smiled when you walked into the room.” At this point, Cassandra was nothing if not predictable, much to her own frustration. How often had she come to her sister, in confidence, to have this very conversation? Countless times, and never once with a clear goal in mind.
Just a head full of thoughts of you.
“They touched me,” she admits, after a few seconds of agonizing silence. The words feel heavy and wrong on her tongue, like they were coated in syrup, too sweet to be anything other than sickening. “Slapped my hand away like I was a kid sticking a fork in an outlet, for fuck’s sake! Who do they think I am?” Now those words felt better. Angrier- left a worse taste in her mouth, but easier to swallow.
“That depends, were you trying to stick a fork into an outlet? Sounds like the sort of thing you’d do to impress them,” Bela teases, laughing even when her arm gets smacked in retaliation. “Maybe you should just ask them, then, if you can’t fathom why they might touch you. Or you could simply wallow in self pity for another decade, pretending to hate their guts when really you’re desperate to get laid?”
“When did you get so rude?” Cassandra snaps, standing up with a scowl.
“Oh, probably about the eighth time we had this talk?” Bela replies, quick as a whip, smiling all the while. If she was going to have to endure this sort of thing this often, she might as well have some fun with it. But this appeared to be the end of this particular conversation, with a miffed Cassandra making her exit, once more leaving Bela to read in peace… for a while, at least.
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She can’t find you. She’s looked just about everywhere, asked every maiden she’s come across, and all any of them had to say were nervous apologies. Where were you? Why were you absent, now of all times, when she had finally decided to speak to you? Curse my luck, Cassandra thinks, barely restraining herself from wreaking havoc on her surroundings. Though maybe they’ll show up to take care of my mess, she muses, then thinks better of it when she imagines your exhausted expression. After all, there was only one place left for her to look: Your personal quarters. If you weren’t there, then, well, there’d be a new problem entirely.
“They better have a damn good reason for hiding away,” Cassandra mumbles under her breath. Then she’s opening the door to your room, not bothering to knock. What could you want to hide from her anyway? “Oh shit.” Evidently she hadn’t thought this through. There you were, asleep in bed, shirtless, a washcloth on your forehead. Every muscle in your body seemed to be shivering, and the occasional weak murmur leaves your lips. It doesn’t take more than a moment for Cassandra to act. Clearly you’re cold, hence the shaking, regardless of how warm it feels to her. So she’s grabbing a blanket from your dresser, quickly covering you with it. “Is that better?”
You don’t respond. Not that she truly expected you to. But the way you continue to shake has her even more concerned, and a trace of panic starts to set in. She searches for other blankets, laying them on top of you, confused as to why you aren’t getting better. C’mon, asshole, she thinks, I’m trying to help you! As if summoned by her frustrations, a maiden soon swings the door open, freezing in place when they see her. Instantly she’s whirling around to face them, a cruel remark dying in her throat. Of course it was one of her mother’s favorites. Eventually, she would have to find someone else to take her frustrations out on.
“Lady Cassandra? What are you-” Cynthia, senior staff member of Castle Dimitrescu, veteran of more than five years, starts to ask. But once she spies the pile of blankets on top of you… well, her eyes go wide. “Damn it, my Lady, you’re going to kill them!” With that said she’s rushing forward, setting down a basket of who-knows-what on your nightstand, before quickly removing the extra sheets. Half confused, half furious, Cassandra stands nearby, unable to decide how to react. Perhaps noticing this, Cynthia is quick to explain her actions. “They have a fever, the worst one I’ve seen in all of my years here. They may be shivering, but trust me, their skin might as well be on fire.”
“I was just trying to help,” Cassandra defends, words rushing out before she can stop herself. Fuck, this was embarrassing.
“Clearly, and I don’t blame you. Let’s just be glad that I came to check on them, hmm?” Cynthia suggests, giving an oddly motherly (i.e. reassuring) smile. On one hand, Cassandra doesn’t appreciate being talked to like this, at least not by someone other than her mother. On the other hand, well, she is glad that she hadn’t accidentally killed you. Taking a moment to let her heart rate slow back down, Cassandra moves to lean against the wall closest to you. She can’t help but frown when she sees the way your eyes flurry about beneath their lids. What are you dreaming about? Is it a nightmare, she wonders, or something softer, like you deserve?
“Can… can I help?” She asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. It was too late to save herself from embarrassment, but it wasn’t too late to contribute to your recovery. Or at least that’s what she hoped. There’s relative silence for a few moments, as Cynthia thinks over her words, swapping out the damp washcloth on your forehead all the while. When she finally replies, she does not look up from her task. Always the professional.
“Stay with them. If they get worse, come find me immediately. If they wake up, try to get them to drink some water, and ask if they’ve been injured recently. I couldn’t find any wounds on them, but this mess reeks of an infection,” Cynthia says. Opening the basket she had brought in with her, she removes several bottles from within, examining their labels with a tight-lipped frown. “None of these will do shit- pardon my language, my Lady- if it’s an infection, but it should help them fight off the fever until I can get them some proper antibiotics. Well, until the Duke can, that is. Make sure to ask them if they have any allergies to medicine before you give them anything, and please read the directions. They only need to take one kind of pill, alright? I only brought a few kinds in case they can’t have certain ones. Is that clear, Lady Cassandra?”
“Crystal clear,” she chimes, only briefly looking away from you. It’s enough for Cynthia, however, and she leaves with a simple bow. Once more alone with you, Cassandra approaches, gently taking your hand within her own. “You’d better wake up soon. I don’t want to have to babysit you all day…” Doesn’t want to, but would, if that’s what you needed. Wouldn’t hesitate for even a second. At most, she’d make someone fetch her a book to read while she waited. Except… now that she glanced around your room, she found that there were some things to keep her entertained. Like your beloved notepad.
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What do you mean? I don’t think she feels that way about me. Don’t be ridiculous, she doesn’t like anyone. Because I pay attention to her! It’s not hard to know what she does and does not appreciate, you just need to observe her. No, not like that, don’t be gross. Keep teasing me and my cheeks won’t be the only thing around here that’s red. Oh fuck off, fine, I’ll go talk to her, but you owe me one. Then the page ends, with the next two having been torn out. A few letters here and there are still legible, on what little remains of the missing pieces. Lov- and want her- and wish. Try as she might, Cassandra cannot find the rest of the pages. What had you possibly written that would make you discard all evidence? It’s not like anyone normally went through your notepad. Had you predicted that one day Cassandra would do this?
“Damn it, damn it, damn it!” She growls, dropping the object with an angry sigh. “Who the hell were you writing about? Who were you fucking talking to? Why won’t you wake up, you goddamn asshole?” Through all of her shouting, you do nothing but shake in place, shivering against a non existent cold. Several hours had passed since Cassandra’s arrival, without you doing so much as batting an eye. Slowly but surely, she was being driven insane, exhausted from worry and jealousy alike. Strange how the most obvious answer eluded her so consistently… Yet hope does not entirely abandon her, as eventually her tantrum manages to pierce the haze around your overheating mind.
“Shhhhhhh. Please,” you mumble, eyes still closed, hardly aware of anything around you. All you really knew was that someone was being insufferable. Hell, your fever was driving you wild, and you didn’t even think about the fact that you hadn’t spoken out loud in front of anyone for over three months. Later, after you recovered, you would be glad that it was Cassandra who finally heard your voice. “Inside voice, mhm? Sleepy time…”
“Did- did you just?” Cassandra asks, stunned, shaking her head as if it might make her realize she was dreaming. But no, this was real, and you really had just spoken to her. It’s enough of a shock to render her speechless for a minute or so.
“Thanks, babe. Need to sleep this off. Or… no, wait, I was supposed to tell someone something?” You ramble, trying to sit up, a hand instinctively going to hold your head. The washcloth falls off of you, and you stare at it in confusion. Before you can start questioning the nature of it’s (or your own) existence, you are distracted by Cassandra, who has traded her own perplexion for determination. Next thing you know, you’re quietly sipping at a glass of water. Exhausted, despite having just been asleep, you eye the nearby medicine with curiosity. “I’m… supposed to tell Cassandra something, maybe? Fuck, why is it so warm in here?”
“You have a fever, dumbass,” Cassandra replies, once more finding her voice, still too overwhelmed to process what’s happening. “Look, you have to take something for your head, okay? Then we can… then we can talk about your feelings all you want, okay?” Maybe she was being a bit presumptuous about what you needed to talk about. Or maybe she was just, for once in her life, being hopeful. Regardless, she presents the medicine to you, getting ready to ask about allergies. Before she can, however, you’ve silently reached for the Ibuprofen and started opening it up.
“This’ll do. For the head, not for talking. We don’t-” you pause to take the pills, gulping down half a glass of water with them- “we don’t talk about that. Feelings. Makes her get mad, and I don’t want her to be mad,” you say, shuddering a little at the thought.
“I won’t get mad this time. Besides, you don’t normally talk at all,” Cassandra replies, rolling her eyes again. Finally, for the first time since waking up, you take a good, long look in her direction. Suddenly you’re putting the pieces together, groaning in protest when you do. How had you not realized? How deep into this fever were you?... “Don’t tell me you just figured it out, ‘babe’? I’m amazed you’re functioning at all right now.”
“Fuck you, Cassie,” you snap, mostly teasing. If she wasn’t freaking out about what you had said, well, then maybe you didn’t need to say much more at all. “You’ll still like me when I’m awake enough to be too scared to talk, right?”
“Honestly?... I was hoping this would be more of a permanent thing,” she admits, refusing to meet your gaze as she puts away the unused medicine. “But I guess I can live with being the only one who knows what your voice sounds like. So don’t you dare fucking talk to anyone else, alright?” She’s joking now, too, sounding more relaxed than she usually was. Even with your body fighting against itself, you can’t help but laugh with her. Then she’s slowly sitting on the edge of your bed, next to you, watching you with adoration clear in her eyes. “You’re going to be fine, right? Because if you die on me, I swear I’m going to kill you.”
“With you as my nurse? I’ll be lucky to last the night,” you joke, pretending to whimper when she gives you a playful slap on the arm. “Nah, nah, I’ll be alright, just as soon as I get some rest. Probably. Maybe you should, uh, stay with me? Just in case.” Next thing you know, Cassandra is pushing you down against the mattress, placing a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then she puts the washcloth back on you, making sure it’s still somewhat cold. Without another word she settles in, leaning against the backboard of the bed, close enough for you to feel her warmth, but far enough that she wouldn’t risk raising your temperature. “Goodnight, Cass,” you murmur, before letting yourself drift back to sleep...
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