#Not to compare my issues to others' of course

[bambi-lamb]

over the phone

Summary: Ever since Wanda left for a routine work trip, things have felt off—even compared to previous trips. Things come to a head one day and you can't help but ring her up. Just to talk... well, at first anyway.

Tags: wanda maximoff x f!reader, 18+, smut, edging, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, phone sex, dacryphilia, mommy kink, nipple play (is that a tag idk), implied sadomasochism (just a lil bit), remote vibrator, fingering

WC: 3,165

A/N: i know the tags are a little crazier than usual... and the length is double what i normally have. i don't know what happened— hopefully someone is into this though

"Detka? Are you there?"

The phone speaker crackles in the following silence, breaking you out of your stupor.

"Sorry, Wanda. I'm here."

She hums softly on the other side of the line, sounding amused.

"So, why did you call me, sweetheart?"

The honey-sweet words trickle into your ears and you sigh, leaning back against the headboard and fidgeting restlessly with the edge of the duvet.

"Just missed you. Wanted to hear your voice," you respond quietly, hoping that the phone catches it.

Evidently, you're not entirely successful.

"Hmm? Say that again, baby?"

You slump down against the pillow, sliding underneath the covers and turning to the side. The phone finds its way between your hands, still on speaker, and you cradle it closer to your face, staring unblinking at the caller ID screen as you repeat yourself.

Wanda chuckles softly, and the phone slides out of your loose grasp. You melt into the mattress before reaching out to readjust the phone until it's in place again.

"I missed you too, detka. What have you been up to today?"

You hum softly, squeezing a second pillow between your arms as you think over your response.

"Not much. I went out and bought groceries. Nothing special. Everything feels so stale without you here," you lament.

A soft huff of breath crackles through the speakers.

"I'll be back soon, detka. I'm only here for one more day, I promise."

You sigh and turn onto your back again, hugging the pillow tighter.

"I just miss you so much."

"I know, sweetheart, I know."

The soft warmth spreading in your chest is all-too-eager to branch as far as it can go, and a low ache settles at the bottom of your stomach. Wanda's voice has always been a weak spot for you, and even through crackling phone speakers that hasn't changed.

"Miss you in all the ways," you murmur, suddenly overwhelmed by the intensity of your need.

Wanda coos softly, but doesn't say anything further. As her raspy voice echoes through the speaker, tears spring to your eyes. It hurts to miss someone this much. You've never had much issue with Wanda leaving before. It's not like you don't understand that she's busy.

But for some reason, this time has felt different from all the others. Your everyday life feels emptier, hollow, surreal. Without Wanda to anchor you down, you feel like you're a phantom, coasting on muscle memory to get through the day until you can get in bed and dream of green eyes.

"Wish you could just come home already," you whine, trying to tamp down your rising emotions.

"Detka," Wanda murmurs. "It's okay. I'm here. Stay with me, okay? Mommy's here."

You battle with your conflicting desires, desperation and desire coursing through your veins in equal measure. You flip back onto your side again, clutching the phone like a lifeline, thumbs pressed into the screen as if that will somehow bring you closer to Wanda.

"Mommy," you whisper back, taking solace in the title as your breathing evens out again.

"Yes, sweetheart. I'm here," Wanda reassures.

Lust roars to life suddenly and you squeeze your thighs together, mind blank as Wanda's soft voice washes over you.

"Mommy," you whisper again, heavier this time, weighted down by desire.

"My baby," she murmurs in response, low and firm.

"Need you. Please." You've been reduced to short phrases already, finally letting your mind take a backseat and just letting yourself feel.

"What do you need from mommy, detka?"

"Want mommy, please. Want to hear— want…" you can't find the right words, overwhelmed by just how much you need Wanda in this moment. You just need her, need to anchor yourself.

Luckily, Wanda understands what you're asking for all too well.

"You want mommy to tell you what to do? Is that it, detka?"

You nod limply, before realizing Wanda can't see you.

"Mhmm," you hum into the screen instead, fingers still digging into the phone case as you pull it even closer.

"How badly do you need it, sweetheart?"

Wanda's voice is teasing, and you can hear shuffling on the other side of the line then the click of a door locking.

"Need you so bad, please mommy." The words tumble out in a rushed mess, but at this point you can hardly bear to think of this phone call ending in anything other than an orgasm.

Wanda chuckles again.

"You're so lovely for me, detka. So needy. So sweet. You know what mommy would do to you if she could be there with you?"

You shiver, pillow long-forgotten as you clutch the phone between your fingers.

"I would take it so slow, sweetheart. Draw it out a little bit, just tug down the top of your shirt and play with your pretty little nipples until you're squirming and crying."

Wanda sounds delighted; you can hear the smile in her voice as she describes how she would touch you.

"Just softly at first, only the best for my baby. I'd use my mouth and tongue, and then when you're squirming for more, mommy would use her fingers to pinch and squeeze and roll. The way you like it, baby," she hums, and you shiver again.

"Can you do that for mommy, sweetheart? Can you pinch your pretty nipples for her?"

You whine high in your throat, listening to the way Wanda laughs softly through the phone.

"Mommy," you whimper, tugging your tank top down and setting down the phone next to your head. You know exactly what Wanda means, and you pinch and squeeze, rolling your own nipples roughly between the pads of your fingers, the way you know Wanda always does, the way you like it.

"Oh god, mommy—" the moan gets caught in the back of your throat, coming out choked as bolts of white-hot electricity course up your spine.

"You're doing so good for me, detka," she coos, and you sob desperately, already overwhelmed.

"Just keep it up for me, sweetheart. I want to hear you cry."

You acquiesce obediently, squeezing your nipples until they're swelling, reddened by the abuse, until you can feel tears welling up and spilling over. Wanda keeps whispering soft encouragements through the speaker even as you pant and moan, broken only by soft sobbing and crying.

It never surprised you, but you're sure anyone else in the neighborhood who knows Wanda would be startled to discover her sadistic streak. She's always liked seeing you cry, and it only helps that you like it when she makes you hurt—when she tears you apart and builds you back up again.

"Mommy," you whimper again, a broken noise that makes Wanda moan softly on the other end of the line.

"Oh, detka, you sound so pretty," she coos, enjoyment sparkling in her voice.

"Please," you beg, shivering and shaking with every new jolt of sensation.

"Mmh, good girl," she murmurs. "You can stop now, just for a little bit."

You moan with relief as you're finally given permission to pull your hands away from your chest.

"And then mommy would touch you lower, wouldn't she? You know how mommy likes you, baby. Legs tucked up against your chest so you're nice and open for mommy. Go ahead, sweetheart, why don't you start now, hm?"

You pant softly as your pull your own legs up and apart, kicking off the duvet and whimpering when cold air meets your sticky cunt.

"Mommy would start slow, just keep you spread open with her fingers, and just watch. Wait until you're squirming and wiggling before she touches you. Just keep yourself open, baby, you can listen to how mommy wants to touch you first. No touching yet."

You hum and abide by her rules, reaching down only to spread yourself even further apart, shivering as you imagine Wanda's lazer-sharp gaze on your spread cunt.

"And then mommy would touch you so softly, just gently rub with her fingers where you're nice and open for mommy. Never inside, just right outside, where your pretty cunt opens up for mommy."

You shiver as you imagine the sensation, all-too-familiar with how it feels.

"Do you think you could ever come like that, baby? With mommy's mouth on your nipples and her fingers rubbing your cunt just like that?"

Wanda moans softly at her own words, and you whimper loudly into the speaker. It sounds torturous and delicious all in the same.

"Hmm, maybe once mommy gets home," she murmurs. "How's my detka feeling now, hm? Are you being a good girl? You're not touching yourself, are you?"

Her words are edged with danger.

"No, mommy. I'm being good. Not touching myself. Keeping myself spread open with my fingers, just like mommy would," you profess earnestly.

Wanda hums thoughtfully.

"You wouldn't lie to me, would you baby?"

"Promise I'm being honest, mommy."

Wanda coos softly, reassured.

"Good girl, detka."

You moan softly in the back of your throat. Without realizing it, you've started rocking your hips against the empty air, searching for more stimulation.

"Now where were we? Ah, right, mommy would rub your pretty cunt until you're crying again, and then keep rubbing. Just until she's satisfied. You'd have to be a good girl and beg for more. Beg for mommy's fingers."

"Please," you moan. "Please, mommy, please." Mindless even though you haven't even begun to touch yourself.

"You can touch yourself now, baby," she coos gently. "Just like mommy said, okay? Don't go inside just yet. Just outside. Nice and soft."

You agree quietly, letting go of where you're stretching yourself open to reach down further. You take your index and middle fingers and begin to rub in careful circles, moaning at the touch.

You've heard about this before, know just how many nerve endings exist in just this region, and it feels like you're on fire. Desperation seizes you. You want more. You want so badly to feel full, to come already, but Wanda hasn't given you permission to do anything beyond this, and you're nothing if not a good girl for her.

"Good girl," Wanda hums, and then continues to describe more, dropping her voice torturously low as she paints new visuals through the speaker.

"And then mommy would press inside, so so slow, bit by bit until you're all filled up. But as soon as mommy's inside, she'd pull right back out, all the way. Rub your pretty little clit with those same fingers until you're crying again, so close, and then stop. Once you're calmed down, mommy would do it again, and again, and again. Over and over."

"Mommy," you sob desperately. "Mommy, please."

Wanda hums softly, but doesn't acknowledge your pleas.

"You don't have to do it so many times tonight, baby. Just a couple. Just so mommy can hear you cry again. And then mommy wants you to go get your vibrator. Mommy will make you come like that, okay?"

You shiver and gasp as you continue to work yourself up.

"Yes, mommy. Please, mommy."

Wanda seems to be feeling merciful tonight, because she doesn't wait very long.

"You can go in now, detka. Just like mommy said, okay? Nice and slow."

You nod eagerly, forgetting Wanda can't see you, and begin to nudge your fingers inside, torturously slow, exactly the way Wanda has so many dozens of times in the past.

The stretch burns, just a little bit, even with how slick you are, and you moan into the speaker. It takes nearly a full minute just to seat your fingers in completely, and you sigh as you clench down, finally feeling full.

"Pull out, baby," Wanda orders firmly.

You whine, crying out in disappointment, but you don't disobey.

"Mommy," you beg, even as you pull back out completely, leaving your cunt empty and needy again.

"No, baby. Not yet. Be good for mommy. Now you have to rub your pretty little clit. Soft. Gentle. Mommy wants you to edge yourself three times, okay? She can count for you, baby." Wanda's breathing sounds labored on the other side of the line, and you briefly have time to think about whether or not she's touching herself, too.

Then your fingers are on your clit and your thoughts wash away again.

You rub just as she instructed. Slowly, gently, cautiously. Just enough to slowly build you up to an orgasm. Never enough to tip you over. Desire throbs low and slow in your stomach, but Wanda's low voice keeps your orgasm at bay. Slower. Lighter. Hold it.

Soon enough, her voice is all you can think about. It replaces the voice in your own head, guiding every movement of every part of your body. No coming. Never coming. Just rubbing, slowly.

When you whimper a little too loud into the speaker, Wanda makes you stop. Pulling your hand away feels like hell, but you do it anyway. When your breathing settles to an acceptable degree—Wanda makes you hold the phone up to your mouth until you stop panting—she has you start again.

Slow and steady. Stretching yourself open with two fingers until you're spreading around your knuckles, and then out and away. And then once again, rubbing your clit until you can feel just how empty you are, clenching down around nothing. The tears well up this time, and Wanda coos softly when you hiccup soft sobs into the phone.

She still makes you stop.

"That's two, detka. Just one more. One more. You can do it, can't you?"

You nod limply, fingers seated deep inside your cunt. It feels glorious, to be full just for this one moment, walls fluttering around something until Wanda orders you to pull them back out, and then you're hollow again, incomplete.

This time, she has you rub even longer, twice as long as you had to before. She makes you pause whenever your breathing speeds to much, or you moan too loud. She tells you to keep your fingers on your clit no matter what, even if you're paused, just to feel the way it throbs underneath your fingertips.

When it does, she asks you to count each pulse out loud, to tell her exactly how much you need her, how much you need more.

"Okay, baby, you can stop now," she orders, after making you count for the fifth time.

"Get your vibrator, sweetheart. Press it in as far as it will go, okay?"

You reach over to the bedside table, fumbling with the drawer until you find the small vibe, sucking on the tip for only a moment before you're eagerly cramming it into your cunt. It feels heavenly, to finally have something inside again, and you moan softly.

"Good girl," Wanda coos from the phone, and you feel the way the vibrator comes to life.

It's slow, probably at the lowest setting, but you're still grateful for the way the vibrations pulse outward, rippling through your nerves deliciously.

"Oh, sweetheart," Wanda murmurs. "You've been so good for mommy today. So sweet. So obedient. Do you want to come?"

You whine eagerly, half-sentences forming in your throat.

"Please, mommy, please. Want. Wanna come. Please."

Wanda chuckles softly, and the vibrator jacks up to the highest setting. You sob gratefully into the phone, your entire body shivering as pleasure finally floods into you.

"Whenever you want, detka," she hums.

The orgasm is aggressive, fast, overpowering. It crashes through your entire body, your toes curling and back arching as all the tension you've built up for the past hour is finally released.

But even after you've come down, panting loudly into the speaker, Wanda doesn't stop the vibrator. She lets it run, still thrumming harshly deep inside of you, until you're tipped over into a second orgasm. The second orgasm is just a tinge of painful, but that ache quickly bleeds into euphoria again.

When she still doesn't stop, you begin to beg, pleading incoherently with Wanda to turn down the vibrator, to stop completely.

Wanda gives no indication at all that she's heard you.

The third orgasm is an all-consuming heatwave, burning through every raw nerve ending as your entire body is left twitching in the aftermath. The fourth and fifth completely remove all sense of coherency and reality from you. Even still, the vibrator keeps buzzing away, tucked deep in your cunt. Wanda murmurs the whole way through, reassurances sweet in her mouth.

She still doesn't stop, though, even when you've lost your voice from how much you've moaned and cried through each orgasm.

You don't even know how many times you actually come. At least 7 times, you think. When she finally turns the vibrator off, you're a complete mess, drenched in sweat and tears, your thighs coated in sticky arousal and come.

"You're okay, detka," she murmurs through the phone.

"You've been so lovely for me. Can you do just one more, baby? Just one more? Mommy wants to hear another one, pretty please?"

You whimper hoarsely, already overstimulated beyond belief, but it doesn't even matter, because the vibrator is buzzing to life yet again.

"Just one more, sweetheart. You can do it. Mommy knows you can. You're so good for me."

You manage to choke out a moan as pleasure builds in your gut yet again, aching and burning. It hurts, but it also feels euphoric.

"Be a darling and rub your clit for mommy, okay? Nice and hard, baby."

You cry out when you do, fingers pressed into your clit as you nudge along another orgasm. It's all too much, but Wanda only turns the vibrator higher. All of a sudden, the orgasm crashes through you, and you shudder one last time, squeezing down on the pulsing vibrator inside you.

You cry out unintelligibly, and Wanda turns the vibrator down, letting you ride out your final orgasm before shutting it off.

"Such a good girl for me, detka," she coos softly. "You're so lovely for me, sweetheart. I'm so proud of you."

You hum into the phone, listening to the way it crackles with sound. You have half a mind to pull the vibrator back out and you leave it on the nightstand, but your uncooperative legs won't let you stand, let alone walk to the bathroom to clean up.

"It's okay, baby. You can go to sleep now. Mommy will be back in no time, okay?"

"Love you, Wanda," you murmur, eyelids already drooping with exhaustion.

As you drift off, vision swimming and blurring, you hear Wanda's honeyed voice come through the speakers again.

"Love you too, detka."

Slipping away into dreamland, you're met with the same dream as you have been for days now. When you're met with green eyes and red hair this time, you no longer feel so hollow—instead, warmth floods through you. The world around the two of you takes shape, changes colors, blissful and bright.

Wanda's eyes sparkle as she laughs at you, tugging you along to nowhere in particular, and you find yourself smiling—genuine and full.

[swimming-karyss]

Sabo: loneliness, connection and affection

Trying to organise my thoughts on this matter hehe

I just thought that Sabo's relationship with loneliness and connection are very interesting, and not much people talk about how terribly lonely his childhood days were(even compared to Ace&Luffy).

Ace has been alienated from people from the beginning. Raised in the middle of the jungle, by bandits who never showed much affection, and who repeated the same hurtful words as others did. The state of loneliness is the norm for him. He has never known any other life. Naturally, he'd be protective of what little he has(Sabo) and reluctant to open up and accept new connections(Luffy).

As for Luffy, he has been left alone. Shanks left him after a year staying at Windmill village. Garp constantly took him out of his regular life only to leave him alone in the jungle. And he as well took him away from the village and Makino, after he ate his devil fruit. And while he didn't have [present] parents, he had been cared for. Luffy knows the difference between loneliness and companionship. Which is why he chased Ace's recognition so much.

Sabo's situation is more similar to Luffy's.

But do you ever think that Sabo loved his parents? That he wanted them to love him too? He wouldn't have drawn them if he didn't. He wouldn't be so disheartened at their dismissal if he hated them from the start. But his parents made their love conditional. Sabo had to earn their love and his happiness, while they ignored his pain and attempts to connect. 

And as you know this kind of relationship could leave a lasting impact on how one navigates their future relationships! But on that later😊

Now, Sabo ran away and that opened a whole other can of worms. He's a child, that for five years didn't have anyone to rely on. Of course, Ace was with him, but after he left for the day, Sabo was left completely alone. I mean, at least Ace had Dadan and occasionally Makino and Garp, they shared meals together, he could turn to them in case something happened and they provided him with company and a roof above his head. Sabo lived on the Gray Terminal by himself, in a place where people considered him either a troublemaker to avoid, or a pest to get rid of (those like pirates and bandits). So through Ace and Luffy Sabo gains not only brothers but also other connections and people who care about him! And he welcomes both Dadan and Makino with a bright smile :) Now that I think about it, just like Ace told him about Luffy, he also must've told Sabo about them too🥹

And while all this is nice, his previous problems didn't go away magically. 

(… But his issues aren't stated or shown as explicitly as Ace and Luffy's, so they are easier to dismiss.)

Even though Sabo trusted Ace with his life, he still kept his origins a secret from him, whether it was because he felt them insignificant compared to Ace's or because he feared abandonment in case Ace would be disappointed. And he was more than willing to keep his secret until the very end - Luffy&Ace literally had to beat(strangle) the truth out of him. Sabo also put distance between them in another way too: Ace thought the two of them would sail together, Sabo didn't.

That is honestly also a point to how controlling his parents were. Sabo wanted freedom so much that he didn't mind the loneliness that came with it. Well, he got what he wanted ;) 

Now it would be easy to say that his amnesia also erased his trauma. But it didn't! Sabo still felt hid parents' influence. (And unlike the other weird amnesia case (the sea sure likes to take people's memories huh) - Big Mom - he didn't revert to his younger self, he only lost access to his memories, his feelings and 'character development' remained). If anything it only led to Sabo not being able to identify the cause of his issues → not being able to treat them properly. Now, the RA seem like decent guys, they very well could be the needed support system for Sabo, but again, it's an army with a whole lot of other issues to deal with. So either way his trauma most likely was allowed to fester for a while as we see its consequences show in his adulthood. 

Even though Sabo seems to be doing well as an adult, there's still some signs of emotional distance. He has never reciprocated a hug, even though he doesn't have a problem with physical touch in general, he didn't even think about approaching Luffy in Dressrosa at first and was very tense when actually talking to him. And it's honestly fascinating just how stiff his body language was in Dressrosa (maybe I'll talk about it in general some other time) - be it shock or anger he keeps his arms to his body, unlike Koala or Hack, who choose violence.

He also showed barely any reaction during Vegapunk's speech despite the panelling focusing on him specifically. I'd say he mostly keeps his negative emotions in check, bc in Robin's little flashback he was quite expressive! The main counterpoint is 'special Luff' where he is very open about his anger, but he has a really decent reason for it: his feelings being made fun of. And as you'll see later it's a very sensitive topic for him →

To begin with, he avoids talking about things that have emotionally impacted him in any way.

1.This one might be a stretch, but he begins to talk about his encounter with Fujitora, only not to say anything in the end, idk what's wrong with him; 2. After a very emotional fight with Burgess Sabo dismisses any worries without even mentioning the fight; 3. He refuses to talk with Hack about Luffy, even though we know that he loves to yap about him to Dragon. And that is right after he didn't want to wake Luffy up to even say goodbye! He also changes the topic quickly so Karasu wouldn't be able to further question him.

Even though these scenes are played as gags, he really seems to have trouble with emotional intimacy and opening up about his feelings. And that makes him seem inattentive and irresponsible, thus affecting his relationships with others even more… 

And speaking of which, he is accustomed with either suppressing his feelings or at least just keeping them in check. He hides his worries from his colleagues, appearing as cheerful as always. And during his meeting with Dragon and Iva he brushes aside his guilt and grief for king Kobra (but, I mean it's a work meeting, they need to be professional) and never once he acknowledges his injuries.

And if he's willing to disregard such a thing as grief, how do you think he really feels about his new title, which was gained by the blood of a man he failed to save?

And frankly, right now we don't know much about Sabo! We know about his childhood, and the way he presents himself now(and that is some material to work with), but the 12 years in the Revolutionary Army are a mystery, and again it's an army, I bet he's seen many things, especially considering how high his position is!

tldr: like Luffy, Sabo has a special relationship with loneliness and abandonment. But unlike Luffy, who especially in pre-ts hated separation, Sabo pushes people away. And what makes it even harder for others to connect with him, is that he tends to hide his feelings and problems.

(like a cat)

but again, I might be reading something wrong, my bad

[bwat5-blog]

Let's Chat: Caitlyn Kiramman

**DISCUSSION AND RESPONSE TO ARCANE SO SPOLIER WARNING**

**LONG POST NOT KIDDING**

@xxbrightshadowxx

Happy March Third to you my fellow Arcane fan. It is quite obvious to anyone with a pulse that we are on far opposite ends of the spectrum of the fandom. That being said, you have made a fairly large amount of posts I've considered responding to, and I find this a much cleaner way of responding than all this re-blogging and commenting nonsense.

As it is clearly an issue for you, and I feel quite differently, we are gonna talk Caitlyn Kiramman. And as you identify yourself as "the biggest hater" I feel confident you won't mind a bit of friendly discourse. Since there is no efficient way to respond to multiple posts in one re-blog, each title in bold blue lettering will link directly to your post in question.

Recent Post Regarding Caitlyn Stans

So this of course is your most recent post I believe:

"I think the thing I hate the most about Caitlyn is her stans"

I don't have too much to say here as you are entitled to your opinions and this post is really just that. You don't feel Caitlyn was well executed as a morally grey character, you don't feel Caitlyn fans admit her mistakes, that is all within your rights. Really the only thing I will say is that as a fan of Caitlyn's character and of she and Vi's relationship, it has become increasingly difficult to spend any time discussing her wrong-doing with any detail or nuance, because so much of the rhetoric around her is completely out of control and false.

Comparing Violence In Timebomb VS Violence In Caitvi

So in this post you are comparing your criticism of violence between Ekko and Jinx during their fight on the bridge, against your criticism of violence between Caitlyn and Vi after fight against Jinx & Sevika. Speaking for myself, I am not sure why anyone would be comparing these incidents at all. They are totally different. However, I wanted to point something regarding your approach to this post.

Let's look at the amount of detail and context you include regarding Ekko & Jinx:

"Ekko and Jinx were on opposite sides of a conflict"- You go on to elaborate and explain well.

"Jinx was already known at that time to kill firelights, why would they like eachother? (for sake of honesty you wrote "why would they not" but I feel like the typo and your meaning was very clear, happens to me all the time) And with the situation on the bridge, Jinx killed a lot of enforcers. they were already in a situation of violence".

"They weren't in a romantic relationship".

"They weren't on good terms".

This is well done. You give their current status with each-other, the context for the immediate events that lead them here, a bit of their history and so on. Hardly a deep dive, but I feel like I have a good sense of where Jinx and Ekko are as characters in relation to each other.

Now let's look at your depiction of the leadup to the incident between Caitlyn & Vi:

"They kiss which basically establishes they like each other a lot"

"They were on good terms with each-other and were allies".

"They were working together to take down Jinx".

Okay all good so far I agree to each point even if we are not discussing of the complexity of what is going on between them. I cannot disagree with any of these points. But. Now we get into your list of circumstances leading to Caitlyn hitting Vi:

"Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting at Jinx when there was a moving child on top of her because shooting a weapon when there is a child nearby especially if said shooter is not in the best mindset is not a good idea".

"They (Sevika, Caitlyn and Isha) escape". (Clearly you meant Jinx, no harm no foul)

"Caitlyn insults Vi by saying she's just like the rest of Zaun and isn't different (which is also very ignorant by implying that the norm is bad and evil Zaunites and Vi is some exception to this norm) also saying it's her (Jinx) blood in your veins".

"She walks away and Vi grabs Caitlyn and asks why are you the one acting like her".

"Eight seconds pass before Caitlyn hits Vi in the stomach with her gun, before leaving her alone".

You then give your wrap-up comments regarding the incident:

Recap that they were on good terms and kissed before the fight

"The Violence had already wound down"- You elaborate on Jinx and friends already being gone and that it was no longer life or death.

You make a point showing Vi wasn't going to hit Caitlyn, elaborating that it was not a fight, but assault

"The show never acknowledges this"

"Caitlyn never apologizes for hitting Vi or leaving her. They just move straight to sex"

RESPONSE:

Alrighty. so in summary, you have presented the incident between Caitlyn and Vi as something like this-

A happy couple working together to catch Jinx get into a fight with Jinx and Sevika. Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting because it endangered a kid. So Caitlyn insults Vi, shows anti-zaun prejudice, then assaults Vi for no reason.

There are several things I'd say matter regarding this incident going into it that you did not mention. And while their exclusion does paint Caitlyn as a mean and spoiled rich girl who assaulted Vi for not getting what she wanted, it is incorrect in its entirety.

Caitlyn's Mental State-

I feel it is only reasonable to consider the impact of the long and unmentioned list of violent trauma Caitlyn has experienced over a very short period leading to this incident. After all, when we discuss the incident and its aftermath how could such things not matter? To that end, fortunately I recently prepared a time-stamped list of the relevant information on another post that covers all of the traumatic incidents needed-

Lured along with several other Enforcers to a burning building with a fake child's voice by Jinx shortly before she blows it up. She is the only survivor: S1 E4 13:29- Sequence begins

Shoots Sevika repeatedly to save Vi's life. More than likely the first time she has ever discharged her weapon at a living person. It doesn't matter the reason or justification, violence impacts you emotionally. S1 E5 5:28- Sequence begins

Survives escaping Silco and his addict/goons deep in the undercity including dodging a collapsing building. S1 E6 13:16- Sequence begins

Meets Jinx for the first time. Has weapon pointed at her. Then survives fight with Firelights. S1 E6 7:05- Sequence begins

Leader of The Enforcers shoots Ekko, and is about to shoot her while several of her peers stand and watch. Shortly after Jinx blows up the bridge, killing almost everyone, then attacks Caitlyn & Vi both intentionally trying to kill them.S1 E7 10:41- Sequence begins

Kidnapped by Jinx from the shower of her childhood home. She is nude at the time. At some point Jinx makes her dress in Enforcer uniform. S1 E8 4:35- Sequence begins *It seems like recent sources from the artbook confirm Jinx held Caitlyn for an entire day but I don't have that in front of me to confirm so we can call it speculation*

She is held bound and gagged and forced to participate in Jinx's Dinner Party: S1 E9 12:55- Sequence begins

- Listens to Jinx try and convince Vi to murder her - Manages to get free and has a gun on Jinx. Spares her at Vi's urging and gets knocked out - Jinx kills Caitlyn's mother, two other councilors, maims 2 others, and destroys the council chamber

8. Survives attack on her mother and other councilor's memorial by Zaun: S2 E1 16:26- Sequence begins

9. Survives operation of Task Force into Zaun: S2 E3 beginning of episode:

Now I know what you are probably thinking. But As I said earlier we need to remember that violence leaves a mark on you. We aren't talking fault or any of that right now. I'm just talking what state of mind is she in. So I'm sure reasonably you can see how at the very least a few days of urban combat would be raising her stress, aggression, fear and all of that.

10. Survives events of Ventilation chamber: S2 E3 18:51 sequence begins

- Survives fight with Sevika - After holding her shot for Vi the first time, Vi blocks her shot the second time and she is denied what she sees as justice (again, just suspend judgement and try to only think of impact on her state of mind)

That, is a tremendous amount of violence and death in a relatively short amount of time. Now, I don't know about you. But to me, that all seems like it may impact a persons behavior and decision making until they have time to heal and to grieve properly.

Conclusion- Mentally and emotionally Caitlyn is totally destroyed having had no time or opportunity to heal from a long series of violent, destabilizing, and immensely traumatic events.

Caitlyn & Jinx-

So the last list was more comprehensive, but we also need to discuss Caitlyn & Jinx. Why? I mean Jinx is what this all boils down to. She's the monster in Caitlyn's mind. She discusses it with Jayce, and we see it when the strike team attacks the arcade and Caitlyn shoots at what she thinks is Jinx in a wide-eyed and manic state. I'm not going to re-list everything but just think about it.

Jinx has almost killed Caitlyn repeatedly, she killed several Enforcers Caitlyn knew as people. She abducted Caitlyn naked from her home. Caitlyn spared her and Jinx killed her mother. Hate Caitlyn, call her every name in the book, label her anything you please. But if you are discussing and acting in good faith, these facts are not in dispute.

Conclusion- Caitlyn is going into this facing down someone she is very likely terrified of, and hates with all of her heart.

Caitlyn & Vi-

As you correctly point out Caitlyn and Vi are romantically linked and working together in their pursuit of Jinx. However, there is some helpful context when analyzing this situation I think should be considered:

Jinx is Vi's little sister.

Caitlyn had Jinx at gun point and did not fire because Vi begged her. Then Jinx killed her mother.

Caitlyn asked Vi to wear the enforcer badge being honest about her fear, and Vi said yes willingly. But the Enforcers still killed Vi's parents.

Before their first kiss that you mention, we see Caitlyn being uncharacteristically aggressive with an unarmed Heenot. It is bad enough to the point that Vi takes her aside and after asking to dismiss the other team members, tearfully asks Caitlyn to promise she won't change.

Vi tells to Caitlyn she is ready for it all to end, and tells Caitlyn to take the shot if she gets the chance.

Conclusion- Caitlyn and Vi go after Jinx with the both of them knowing Vi begged Caitlyn to show mercy and now Caitlyn's mother is dead, and that Vi is wearing the badge of her parents killers to try and make things right. Caitlyn is clearly losing herself to the violence and anger of everything going on, and before the confrontation Vi tells Caitlyn she knows it has to end. Not exactly simple or casual.

The Incident Itself:

So the fight goes down, and as you said it eventually comes down to Caitlyn demanding that Vi move while Vi refused to do so due to the danger to Isha. You do make a point of mentioning the shooter (Caitlyn) not being in the best mental state (which I think we have established is like saying its a tad windy in the middle of a tornado), and then we move to the aftermath where it goes down like you describe:

Caitlyn is upset with Vi for blocking the shot

Vi insists she shouldn't have had to stop Caitlyn due to the danger to the child

Caitlyn states that she thought Vi was different but she isn't. "It's her blood in your veins":

Stopping here for a moment. This was not a statement of prejudice against Zaun. She is comparing Vi to Jinx, not all of the Undercity. I can back this up with the following points:

The entire quote (S2 E3 begins 10:47) "I keep telling myself that you're different. But you're not. It's her blood in your veins".

This is quite clearly one continuing statement from Caitlyn. She specifically compares Vi to Jinx. Not to Zaunites or anyone else. Just Jinx.

Vi then responds (S2 E3 10:39) "Then why are you the one acting like her?".

This entire thing is all centered around Jinx in the dialogue and obviously linked narratively. It isn't about Zaunites in general.

4. I covered Vi's response above so from there, Vi grabs Caitlyn as she is leaving, shifts her grip to a less aggressive place, then after several seconds Caitlyn hits her.

5. Caitlyn shows clear regret before leaving:

Overall conclusion for the incident itself:

As I said, this is the overall picture you give of this incident with the amount of context and detail you included:

A happy couple working together to catch Jinx get into a fight with Jinx and Sevika. Vi stops Caitlyn from shooting because it endangered a kid. So Caitlyn insults Vi, shows anti-zaun prejudice, then assaults Vi for no reason.

But when you actually take the entire picture into account, this wildly differs from the actual events of the show.

Caitlyn is dealing with ENORMOUS amount of unresolved trauma

Jinx is the central focus of Caitlyn's rage and fear

Vi and Caitlyn care for each-other deeply, but between them is:

A- Vi being Jinx's older sister B- Vi begged Caitlyn for Jinx's life and Jinx killed Caitlyn's mother C- Enforcers killed Vi's parents and Caitlyn asked her to put on the badge D- Their first kiss is in the wake of Vi being afraid of how Caitlyn is changing from all of the violence and death around them

Caitlyn is clearly out of control when Vi is trying to stop her from shooting-

A- Caitlyn fires twice with Vi in the way even striking her gauntlet once B- Caitlyn just keeps saying the same thing over and over "Move.. She's not getting away again!"

As far as the dialogue only goes they both say something terrible in the aftermath-

A- Caitlyn tells Vi she is no different than Jinx. Knowing the guilt and horror Vi feels over what her sister has become. The guilt over Caitlyn's mother. And that Vi put on the badge to follow her on this mission. B- Vi tells Caitlyn she is acting like Jinx. Knowing full well Jinx almost killed Caitlyn repeatedly. Abducted her. And killed her mother

Not that it excuses or makes it okay. But Caitlyn shows clear remorse after hitting Vi.

Wrap Up:

Please understand, this is not about saying it was okay for Caitlyn to hit Vi. Far from. But as I said in response to that first post, we can't even get to that because of situations like this. The unfortunately simplistic version of events you provided completely misrepresents what actually occurred. It isn't about justification. Caitlyn hitting Vi cannot be justified. But it is about proper understanding based on what actually occurred. And not excluding or simplifying things to serve the purpose of demonizing her beyond what is reasonable. Let's take a look at your wrap up points-

1. Recap that they were on good terms and kissed before the fight Caitlyn growing steadily more angry and violent while dynamic between she and Vi was extremely complex 2. "The Violence had already wound down"- You elaborate on Jinx and friends already being gone and that it was no longer life or death. True the fight was over. But Caitlyn was still operating at a ten emotionally and mentally, it takes time for you to come down from that state.

3. You make a point showing Vi wasn't going to hit Caitlyn, elaborating that it was not a fight, but assault

Totally agree, not sure where this is coming from, I guess some people have suggested it or something?

4. "The show never acknowledges this"

Just because you don't consider it enough doesn't mean it didn't happen 5. "Caitlyn never apologizes for hitting Vi or leaving her. They just move straight to sex"

Caitlyn makes amends repeatedly through her deeds rather than her words:

Helps to save Vander

When Vi is wounded and Jinx is exposed she doesn't even look at Jinx, runs to save Vi instead

Keeps Jinx in the bunker rather than Stillwater, and holds off on any judgement until Vi is awake even though she could have taken her revenge and no one in Piltover would have cared

Moves the guards away so Vi can free Jinx if she chooses. Even knowing Vi may leave and Caitlyn would never see her again

*VI initiated their sex scene. Caitlyn even interrupted to make sure she was honest about Maddie*

Your last line asks the following question: "You see why this leaves a bad impression?"

My answer is yes. But it is one born of a gross over-simplification of the events leading to this moment and exclusion of anything challenging the clear anti-Caitlyn bias in your writing.

Comparing Season One Caitlyn Against Season Two

Alrighty last one I promise. So this whole post comparing your feelings about Caitlyn in season 1 to season 2. Fairly cut and dry in terms of concept. Lets look at some things you acknowledge about Caitlyn in season 1:

"Shes genuine. I never once doubted in season 1 that she had good intentions"

"She believed in justice and was ignorant to the system that pushes her family forward while pushing others down and when she's confronted with this she's defensive about it"

"Her arc is learning about the oppression the system Piltover installed was bad and wanted change to help those in the undercity"

You then acknowledge her arc did not complete in season one and that you and many others expectation was to see she and Vi forge a new path for Piltover. So lets look at your observations regarding Caitlyn in season two:

"Caitlyn looses her mom and bam, facism and dictatorship!"

"We can't let the privileged girl face consequences!"

"Grief is not an excuse for what she did"

"She gassed and used nuclear warfare against the defenseless in Zaun"

"What she and Jinx did were two different things" you clarify below:

- "Jinx did what she did because of the oppression of Topside. Everything happened because of the class problems of Piltover" - "But Caitlyn? Yes loosing a parent figure is bad, but Caitlyn proved that those were anti topside: Jinx, Sevika, and Silco were right. The police brutality, the abuse of power, the gassing the city, everything".

6. "She gets no consequences. No, her loosing an eye wasn't a consequence for her becoming a dictator. That happened because she betrayed Ambessa. And even if it was, loosing an eye is not equal to what she did. Caitlyn got to walk away scot free. She got to go back to her mansion with Vi"

Response:

Okay, first off lets get this clarified. What you observed about the hard swing in Caitlyn's trajectory was correct. It was also the point. We already listed the long list of things that happen to Caitlyn piling up higher and higher that lead to her breaking point. Then this happens. So yes, her season two arc swings hard from what we were expecting. I suspect if you were almost murdered repeatedly, abducted, spared the woman who did those things and then watched her kill your mother you might also have some chaotic emotions and mental health for a while.

Now to keep things simple lets just go point by point, so my number 1 corresponds with your number 1 regarding season 2. Pretty simple.

1. Well as we have stated now in full and fleshed out detail there is immensely more to it than losing her mother. You make no mention of the manipulations and actions of Ambessa Medarda in Caitlyn's arc but I'm not detailing all of that. This is already too long. I'll link those docs at the end should you want to read them. It should also be noted Caitlyn is neither a fascist or a dictator. The elite of Piltover agree to declare Martial Law, and they agree to Caitlyn as commander. We can do the whole technical definition of both if you really need me to but I don't think that's needed right now. 2. Caitlyn faces a variety of consequences but you repeat yourself so I'll say more for number 6

3. Agreed. Grief is no excuse. As we have now shown conclusively, it goes so far beyond just grief. But also as we have discussed it is not about excusing anything. It is about understanding. And there can be no understanding as long as we are unwilling to look at her story honestly.

4. Regarding the nuclear warfare comment I apologize. I'm not meaning to be rude, but I have absolutely no clue what you are referencing and therefore cannot give that a thorough response. Regarding the gas, no she didn't. They used The Grey targeting the chem-barons and their soldiers. This was confirmed by Amanda Overton (who I know many of you disregard, but she was one of the creators like it or not), and there is no evidence to the contrary. This does include clearing the area of civilians to keep them out of the fighting. While it is true anything gas based cannot be absolutely contained, there is a tremendous difference between being specific and controlled in their use, versus just letting it loose all over. The imagery showing people running in the streets is from two sources: A- Cassandra Kiramman's files when Caitlyn is learning about The Grey: It's clearly old, with a faded old parchment sort of look to it. The building and the clothes are all different as well. B- The hellfire video- Let's actually look at this:

"We used The Grey to clear the streets! To keep people safe!"

Sound familiar? That's what Vi tells Jinx. You may notice those people are up, and running. They aren't on their backs choking. They are hunting armed criminals with access to Shimmer, and a terrorist who likes to blow things up. Clearing the area seems prudent.

And in case you have seen any of those posts regarding the "scenes they deleted to make Caitlyn look better" Hellfire isn't a pro-Caitlyn propaganda moment in the show. They aren't glamorizing her here. Look at some of the lyrics:

Can I do the right thing for the wrong reason? Is it bad that I'm making friends with my demons, and Living by a couple deadly sins Just to make sure I finish what you began

Does it seem like they are portraying this as a good thing? No. This whole sequence is Caitlyn losing herself. Giving in more to her rage and her pain and surrendering her values in the pursuit of "justice". But lying and exaggerating don't help anything. They only divert attention away from the true meaning of the narrative.

And before we move on lets just get this out of the way. There is no evidence that short term exposure to The Grey harms anyone long term. While there is an abundance of evidence to suggest it does not. We can speculate til the cows come home about what might happen. But at the end of the day this is fiction, and The Grey does not exist. What's accurate is what we are shown is accurate.

5. Well as we have discussed repeatedly Caitlyn's motivations are immensely more complicated and involved than grief over her mother.

Regarding Jinx, this is it's own topic and one I've written on fairly recently. I'll link that here as well. But let's take a quick look here at her actions regardless of motivation:

Lit a building on fire, lured in several enforcers including Caitlyn using a fake child's voice and then blew it up to steal hex tech. Killed everyone but Caitlyn.

Killed countless Firelights.

Attacked the bridge killing several people (Marcus and clearly proven corrupt Enforcers no big loss) but then attacked and actively tried to kill Caitlyn and Vi.

Blew herself up and almost killed Ekko after he stopped fighting

Abducted Caitlyn nude from her home, dressed her in her Enforcer uniform, held her close to a day.

Bound and gagged Caitlyn and made her listen while Jinx tried to convince Vi to murder her.

After Caitlyn spared her life, Jinx knocked her out. She then proceeded to kill Caitlyn's mother, two other councilors, main 2 more, injure at least Viktor and I'm sure other's we don't see, and destroy the chamber. The fall out of this attack opens the door for Piltover retaliation bringing it down on Zaun.

Unleashes The Grey all over Piltover.

If you want to give Jinx a free pass for all of that because of Piltover, I'm afraid you and I cannot agree.

Regarding proving Silco and Sevika right. These supposed champions of Zaun:

Directly and intentionally killed Vander, Grayson and Benzo

Caused the deaths of Mylo and Claggor by taking Vander

Tried to kill Vi

Silco was quite possibly about to kill Powder before she hugged him

They unleash Shimmer on their people. A proven dangerous, addictive drug that mutates its users and can turn them into monsters.

"anti-topside" Silco pays corrupt top-side cops to hunt and kill Firelights for opposing him

Regarding Silco: He promised Jinx and Vi's mother to make a safer Zaun for the then unborn Vi. He tried to kill Vi on the steps of Felicia and Conal's dilapidated home, using destitute Zaunites hooked on the drug he flooded the lanes with.

Regarding Sevika: She knew those kids the entire time they were with Vander. As stated, she plays a part in Vander's death leading to the deaths of Mylo and Claggor, tries to kill Vi repeatedly, and even though she helped orphan Jinx the second time she clearly and intentionally messes with her head in hopes Silco will cast Jinx out.

6. Regarding formal consequences, such as the law or something. As stated Martial Law and by extension Caitlyn was all agreed to by the Piltover elite and totally lawful within the bounds of this universe. Caitlyn's actions didn't actually violate real-world standards either (I've checked) but it's important to remember this isn't the real world. She can't be held to account for violating the Geneva convention in a world with no Geneva.

Regarding consequences in the story she absolutely did. We only see her for a brief moment after defeating Ambessa but her injuries were horrendous. With her power and resources, Caitlyn could have fled if she chose. No one could make her fight. Instead she fought on the front line and faced Ambessa, and sacrificed her eye, and almost her life. And that is to say nothing of the immense mental/emotional trauma of everything that has occurred.

If you aren't counting any of that because she chose to take that risk, I'll say this.

How did we reach the point where someone subjecting themselves to harm to make things right, isn't as righteous as watching them be forced to? It sounds to me like you loved Caitlyn as long as she wasn't affected by anything she went through.

WRAP UP:

This is insanely long. I do apologize for that but I knew it was going to be going in. Responding to multiple posts in one just comes out that way. I totally understand if you just TLDR and move on with your life. But if you do respond , I look forward to your thoughts.

Below as promised I will link my docs reference to the manipulations of Ambessa Medarda and Maddie Nolan on Caitlyn, as well as my recent post regarding Jinx and her motivations. Thank you.

Ambessa Medarda's Manipulation & Control

Maddie Nolan's Manipulation & Control

Jinx was never fighting her oppressor

[chibipsycho-v3]

Hello Hello! It's me again!

Heehoo request time/lh

I'm feelin' very hurt/comfort cause anxiety is being a bitch like always. Same peeps from before btw!

Basically, just some general anxiety comfort will do. Whether that's headcanons or a oneshot or both like last time is up to you. But I would like to add a personal tidbit if that's fine.

How they would comfort their partner who's ashamed of how they feel.

I'm sorry if that's a bit too personal or if it's just oversharing in general, I just could use some comfort about that, y'know? Totally up to you if you want to answer this request or not friend.

Have a good rest of your day/night!

*hands together* I am sorry that this took so long to get to you I won't bore you with my RL But I wanted to get these just right before I posted them. I did these in a headcanon style this time, it was the format that flowed- for some reason?

Anyway I hope you feel better, friend. I have some similar struggles from time to time and while I can't rightfully say I know your pain, I feel for you and with you. So we can all sit here and get some comfort from some nice 'bots~

P03 comforting a partner who is ashamed with how they feel

Something is bothering you, P03 can tell. He's not very perceptive with mood changes in others, but he's been around you long enough to recognize it.

At first, he doesn't say anything. He figures if you wanted to talk about it, you would. He does soften his words around you, though.

P03 finally can't take it and he pulls you aside to ask you what the problem is. If someone's bothering you or something, he'd have a few choice words with-!

In the quiet of the backroom, away from prying eyes, you tell him. But once you tell him what's bothering you, his face can't quite settle between sad and upset.

He doesn't say anything quite yet, but- if you were okay with it- he would pull you close and hold you against himself.

He tries to come up with words, but- Oh, he's terrible at this. But you're not feeling good and he's gonna try his damnedest to relieve that feeling.

So P03 tries to offer the words he needed in the past. That he can see you're not feeling good. That you shouldn't be too hard on yourself. That he's proud of your efforts. It may take him a minute (this poor 'bot is awful at discussing emotions, especially his own) but he may even tell you a little about his past to show you're not alone.

Once you've calmed down a bit, he turns his attention to the factory- and calls an early shutdown for the day. His workers are understandably confused, but he tells them not to question it.

He's not going to just comfort and run, he's gonna stick close to you for the rest of the day.

You want to talk more about your problems? He's listening. You want to discuss something else? He's got plenty of subjects and things to distract you with. You want to cuddle? He'll find a blanket for you both. If you want something to eat or drink, he refuses to let you do it yourself and brings it to you.

He wouldn't put this effort out for just anyone, and if pressed by someone he'd deny he did it, but P03 does care about you.

"I don't want you to feel ashamed. I am proud of who you are. Tell that to the thoughts that are trying to scramble you up."

The Archivist comforting a partner who is ashamed with how they feel

The Archivist can tell your mood is off the moment that your demeanor changes. She says nothing in front of others, but as soon as the two of you are alone, she'd ask if you were feeling alright. She wants to give you a chance to talk on your own if you wish to.

If you do tell her what's bothering you, she gives you a look not of pity, but of sympathy. She'd offer a hug if you'd like it, and she squeezes your shoulders gently.

All of her files are set to the side for you. She wants you to feel better, but she doesn't want to overstep a boundary.

But first, your comfort is her priority. That file the Archivist built on you tells her all she needs to help you out. She'll get your favorite drink in your favorite spot with possibly even a playlist of some soothing music to help you de-stress. Any other comforts you need are easy enough for her to get her claw on.

If you need a distraction from your problem, she has no end to interesting subjects the two of you could talk about or things she could show you to take your mind off of things.

She doesn't want to goad you into telling her anything, but she insists that you can tell her anything; she's a really good listener, after all. If you want to be left in solitude, she'll let you calm down by yourself if that's what you need.

But if you want to talk, she's there to listen. The Archivist loves to listen to you, though to hear the hurt and shame in your words, see it in your face… It tugs at something in her circuits.

She'd do anything to make you feel differently, but of course it's never as simple as that. So she tries to understand your position. She might ask gentle questions about why you might feel this way or what she could do to help- but if those questions upset you, she would immediately backtrack.

Your state of mind is her top concern and she tries her best to be attentive and understand.

"You're my sweet partner, and nothing could ever make me ashamed of you. I wish I could change things for you… But I can stand by you through your troubles. Always."

[mannap]

And that's why we're a kick-ass duo💅🤭

[bmpmp3]

one thing about particularly the dreamtonics voicebanks is sometimes their vibratos are like. out of control. almost sounds like theyve been exaggerated further from their voice providers? putting way too much sauce into it in autopitch mode even when the vibrato modulation is all the way down to zero. its not bad but it is funny. mai you gotta relax girl we're singing like some idol-y character-y anime song not mariah carey <3

[2pen2wildfire]

My mom got a shitty tattoo of a dragonfly on her hip when she was my age and she always regretted it and got it removed like a couple years ago anyway should I get a better one in the same place just to fuck with her.

[bigcryptiddies]

Sometimes people will criticize a piece of media for things about it they don’t like and some bozo-on-the-internet’s advice will be “well if you expanded your horizons and interacted with media that fundamentally Does Not Interest you…”

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc daily life images

[running-in-the-dark]

sometimes I just. realise I'll probably never feel normal about money in my life

I grew up poor, but it's not just that. it's that my mother would constantly complain that she didn't have any money, and because I was the oldest and also lived with my dad, she would call me and tell me to ask my dad to give her money. or rather, she'd yell at me to do it. sometimes she'd come over and they'd scream at each other about it. usually not in front of my brothers, I think, but always in front of me.

I remember how I didn't get anything, ever - and I don't mean luxury items, I mean clothes, underwear, school supplies. one time I asked for a set of coloured pencils because I really liked to draw - they weren't expensive, definitely under 10€, but she got mad and told me we couldn't afford that.

but she went to the hairstylist every 4-6 weeks to get her hair cut and dyed. the few times I went with her (I didn't feel comfortable going usually, because I had anxiety but mostly because I knew it was expensive and I knew we couldn't afford it), I saw how much she spent there (not a lot, but definitely a lot more than anything I got). she smokes, so she spent at least 10€ a day on cigarettes too. but that was fine because she 'never got anything for herself'.

when I desperately needed new clothes (because I literally did not have any that still fit and weren't completely broken), she would only take me to one store - because her friend owned it. I hated all of the clothes there and they were expensive, but she got to pay later or something so that's what we did. she always got more for herself than the few pieces I was allowed to get.

even when I had to move in with her again (not voluntarily), she still made me ask my dad for money. when I asked her to buy food she'd tell me she would do that when my dad sent more money. and it's not like he just didn't feel like paying - at least one of us lived with him until I was like 16, and he had less money than she did. but still. she'd always yell at me because he was so bad and I was responsible for making him give her more money.

whenever I got any money, I spent it immediately, because I knew if I didn't, one of my parents would borrow it (maybe I'd get it back, maybe not).

I don't know. I just don't know how to be normal about it. the stupidest things related to money will trigger memories of being screamed at. it all just feels bad.

[andypantsx3]

FILLING IN | BAKUGOU x READER ˖˚˳⊹

summary: A production assistant for an erotic arts studio, you think you've seen every ridiculous plot line under the sun. But not even porn tropes can compare to the absurd reality you find yourself in when the on-screen talent drops out, and you're asked to fill in opposite the studio's number one star Bakugou Katsuki.  contents: The classic oh-no-the-porn-talent-has-gone-missing-let's-sub-a-rando-in trope, no quirks au, pornstar Bakugou, soft dom Bakugou, gn + afab reader, unrequited-requited crush, slight bondage, descriptions of afab genitalia, nipple sucking, cunnilingus, piv sex, pet names used: angel and sweetheart, porn with surprise feelings, 18+, 8.2k words notes: This is my Bakugou x Reader commitment for @ficsforgaza, and I am sorry it is late enough to also count for Valentine's Day (but also Happy Valentine's Day!!) Additionally, a special thank you to my angel princess @ofmermaidstories for handing me the nerd + pornstar combo when I was worried about Bakugou's characterization. I think this is the only way I could have ever written a pornstar Bakugou that felt right to me. Love you, Mermie.

The studio was churning in chaos by the time you arrived.

The first sign that things weren’t right was Komori, one of your fellow production assistants, propped against the wall outside. Her cellphone was pressed against her ear, and she looked nervous, her foot tapping a thousand miles a minute. She had a thumbnail pressed to her mouth and was chewing steadily through the nail like a rabbit through a lettuce leaf.

You didn’t want to disturb her, so you buzzed inside the studio, only to find the hallways filled with an equally nervous energy. Yaoyorozu, one of the production managers, hovered in the doorway of a dressing room. She looked to be arguing with someone, her normally sweet expression pinched in profile. A small circle of people took up the hallway behind her, shifting apprehensively.

A shrill voice filtered out of the dressing room as you tried to wedge yourself by. “I said I’m not doing it. We’re getting married and we agreed I wouldn’t do this anymore.”

“Bibimi—” Yaoyorozu started.

“Effective immediately. Find someone else,” Bibimi’s voice replied.

You stopped in your tracks, blinking as you turned back to the doorway, peering over Sato’s shoulder.

Bibimi Kenranzaki was one of the studio’s top actresses, the very performer scheduled to shoot the production you were working on this afternoon. The shoot was a Valentine’s Day special, and had already been delayed at Bibimi’s request several times. If you’d understood Yaoyorozu’s previous concerns correctly, today was the last possible day to shoot it with enough time for it to make it through editing to post on Valentine’s.

This was not good.

“Bibimi, of course we would never force you to do something you did not consent to,” Yaoyorozu said patiently. “But you can see how having delayed this shoot many times already puts us in danger of not delivering on our commitments.”

You heard a dismissive snort issue from the room, and peered over one of Yaoyorozu’s slender shoulders. Bibimi lounged across one of the waiting room couches, arms crossed over her chest. An enormous diamond ring you’d never seen before glinted from one of her fingers, clearly the source of today’s change of heart.

Oh, production was not going to be happy.

You winced as you ducked out from behind Yaoyorozu, heading back down the hall to stuff your things into one of the vacant lockers. It was a struggle to fit everything in as today you’d come directly from a lecture—two textbooks the size and weight of cinderblocks choking up all the space in your bag. You would have thought that, considering that a wide swath of the production staff were college students—including several of the performers themselves—the studio would have had a better set up. But it was often a fight to the death to even find an open locker amongst the many other bookbags, and an equally Sisyphean struggle to get the door shut on the tiny cubbies.

Once you finally managed to finagle the door shut on your backpack, you made a beeline for the supply room. Typically, your first task of any shoot was acquisition of about a million pounds of baby wipes and lube, though you wondered if they would be needed today, given the scene with Bibimi you’d just witnessed.

You checked the film schedule posted in the staff entry to find the allotted set room. Then you made your way down the twisting maze halls carpeted with ancient olefin to the set for You Cumplete Me, the obnoxious working title Kaminari had come up with for this particular Valentine’s Day project.

The room was set up like some generic apartment, a large bed with a wire-framed headboard dominating the majority of the space. A cherry wood nightstand cluttered with fake knick knacks stood diligently at the bedside, and two fake windows with their curtains drawn shut overlooked the whole affair, red dressings fluttering slightly in the breeze from a fan.

Most of the production staff was already inside the room, the cameramen and director huddled together in the corner, whispering nervously. You spotted Mina, the wardrobe coordinator and makeup artist, fussing with her phone in the other corner, her various products and brushes spread out across a plastic folding table, looking put out.

“You know if we’re going to be able to sub anyone in for Bibimi?” you asked as you approached her, flopping down in one of the chairs set up at her makeshift dressing table. You arrayed your armful of lube and plastic packs of wipes at the corner so as not to disturb her arrangement.

Mina’s eyes flicked up to yours and she grinned, the upturn of her mouth accented with perfectly-applied hot pink lipstick.

“Komori’s called like ten other actresses so far and can’t get anyone,” Mina answered. “And Shiozaki and Kendo are in-studio but both just got off another shoot so we contractually can’t use them. I think Yaomomo is ready to start shaking people down.”

You winced. Yaoyorozu never lost her cool, but the pressure must be mounting. You knew marketing materials had already been put out on the studio’s website, specifically promising the return of the studio’s highest-grossing star—Bakugou Katsuki—opposite Bibimi.

While Bibimi might be the highest paid actress, Bakugou was the real draw of UA Productions. UA churned out projects that were largely targeted towards less traditional markets—largely women—porn that was often of higher production value, higher quality scripting, and careful coordination showcasing enthusiasm and consent. It also subsequently employed more than its fair share of beautiful men.

And Bakugou Katsuki crowned that pile of performers. Though foul-mouthed and often irascible, he was undeniably breathtaking to behold, both on screen and in person. He was the typical blend of tall, strong, and well-muscled that most UA actors were. But he moved with a singular precision and intention that drove fans wild, and came equipped with bed-rumpled blond hair, mile-long lashes, a surly, pouty mouth, and a facial symmetry that Euclid himself would have wept over.

He was also nearing the end of his doctoral and would not be filming for much longer, you were given to understand. So the studio stood to lose a significant amount of audience trust and money, should this production fall through.

As if on cue, Bakugou Katsuki himself stomped through the doorway. The expression on his face told you he was already well-aware of what was happening with Bibimi, and he was getting annoyed with the hold up. He set a direct line for you and Mina, mouth twisted in dissatisfaction.

Your ears promptly went hot, the way they always did when Bakugou was in your line of vision.

You’d unfortunately had something of a crush on him from the minute you’d become a production assistant at UA, your third year of college. Funds were tight and your masters program loomed large in front of you, its meager stipend like a slap in the face. You’d needed something else flexible, and you’d found UA through the friend of a friend—its proximity to the university, and ever changing schedule of ongoing productions offering the perfect amount of flexibility for your situation.

Bakugou had been there that first day as Yaoyorozu gave you the tour, too. He’d been tucked up on the couch of the waiting room as you passed through, blonde hair rumpled, someone’s lip gloss still smeared at the corner of his jaw. He looked like a soft, relaxed mess—clothes askew like he’d pulled them back on after a shoot and immediately migrated to the couch—though his scarlet eyes tracked intently across the page of an enormous engineering text spread across his thighs. His long fingers twirled a pen absently, tapping against a notebook peeking out from just under the textbook, headphones jammed over his ears.

He did not look up as you made your way inside, but your stomach had flared to life with a sudden flutter of butterflies. You were startled by the pretty set of his mouth, the long lashes that swept over his cheeks as he read, the flex of those long, beautiful fingers on his pen. You had never seen a person so perfect in real life, and the effect was dumbing.

“That’s Bakugou, one of our performers,” Yaoyorozu had told you, leading you through the room. She did not stop to introduce you. “He’s working on a PhD in chemical engineering, and performs once every couple of months for us. He’s—erm—not quite friendly, so we’ll skip the introduction today.”

You’d followed her, nodding obediently, leaving Bakugou behind. You’d dutifully concluded your tour and signed all the paperwork, and met several other members of the staff. It was only when you’d been released from your onboarding obligations that you saw Bakugou again, as you ran out into the parking lot to start your car.

It was raining out, a torrential downpour much worse than when you’d arrived that came down in thick, pelting sheets. Visibility was bad enough that you almost missed the tuft of blonde hair across the parking lot, ducking under the awning of the nearby bus stop.

You knew the route headed back towards your university, and subsequently your apartment, and it dawned on you that Bakugou’s would most likely be attaining his cited PhD at your same college. You felt your mouth twist, impressed. PhD tracks were notoriously difficult to attain at Musutafu University—no wonder Bakugou needed a job that was, for lack of better phrasing, quick and dirty. He probably was drowning in post-grad labs and dissertation materials.

The memory of those long fingers tapping at the edge of his text suddenly flickered again in your brain, and something possessed you as you started up your engine. Before you knew what you were doing, you had pulled your car around into the bus stop bay, leaning out to call out to him.

“Hey—Bakugou, right?” you said, watching as scarlet eyes found yours, narrowing suspiciously. His pretty mouth lifted in an immediate, reflexive snarl, and those broad shoulders squared off, like he was getting ready for trouble.

You cut in, quickly explaining yourself when you realized he had no context for the rando hanging out of their car window at him. “I’m Yaoyorozu’s new production staff. Just joined today. Are you headed towards Musutafu U and do you want a ride?”

A blonde eyebrow lifted. “You’re with UA?” he asked. His voice was a kind of low growl, not unlike the thunder suddenly echoing overhead, and the sound shot through you like a bolt of lightning.

“I—yeah. Just signed the paperwork this afternoon.”

Several spatters of rain dampened your cheeks where you had your head poked out of the window, and Bakugou’s eyes tracked them closely as he leaned in. “Then let’s get one thing straight right off the bat—I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You recoiled, horrified at the conclusion he’d immediately brought himself to. “No! That’s not what I—I didn’t mean like—! I just thought because it’s raining out, you might want—”

“I want you to fuck right off, is what I want,” Bakugou said, crossing his arms over his chest. He made a show of leaning back against the glass wall of the bus stop, its interior papered over with moldering ads. It was a clear dismissal.

You blinked at him stupidly for a moment, mind reeling that your gesture had been received so poorly. But then you realized he hadn’t seen you, in your trek through the staff room during your afternoon tour. You’d only just seen him, and you hadn’t spoken to him besides. Despite your immediate interest in and respect for him, he knew nothing about you.

And he was a pornstar, come to think of it. He probably had had a fair number of creeps proposition him out of the blue. Enough that he was suspicious now, as you might have been, were you in his position.

Your cheeks heated, suddenly ashamed. You nodded, gritting your teeth as you ducked back inside your car.

“Right, fucking off, as requested,” you said, turning your blinker on to move back out into the road. “Sorry to scare you. See you, um—see you at work sometime.”

“Oi—I ain’t fuckin’ scared,” you heard him growl, but then you were turning back out into the street. You rolled your window back up as you sped up, resisting the urge to look back at Bakugou in the rearview.

What a humiliating first impression that had been.

You'd fretted about it for another week before your first official day at UA, and for several weeks more when you didn’t immediately run into Bakugou. When you’d finally met him properly, however, Bakugou acted like he’d never even seen you before in his life, and you somewhat gratefully followed his lead. He treated you like anyone else, with the same kind of universal severity he turned on the other production staff. You discovered very quickly that he was impatient, brusque, no-nonsense. He stalked onto every set with all the latent energy of a nuclear missile strike, and never softened until after the shoot was over.

His general attitude, and your humiliating first encounter should have been enough to turn you off of him. But the occasional glimpse of him after a shoot—rumpled, relaxed, open in a way he normally wasn’t, in the way that you'd first seen him—was unfortunately enough to keep those initial butterflies aflutter.

The fact that he was smart—and annoyingly adept in the bedroom, considering the number of reshoots his costars often needed after they accidently came too early—did not help matters.

“Where the fuck is Yaoyorozu?” he demanded of you and Mina, as he approached you in the set room now.

You met his scarlet gaze, holding very still under his regard.

“She was negotiating with Bibimi just now when I came in,” you told him, cheeks heating as his eyes flicked over you. He had a very direct way of evaluating people, and rarely missed a detail. You hoped your makeup wasn’t smudged from where you’d had your head propped up in your hand, valiantly resisting falling asleep in your earlier lecture.

“Bibimi’s a waste of fuckin’ time,” Bakugou growled.

You rolled your eyes. He couldn’t very well act opposite his own hand, so someone was going to have to fill in.

“Well Mina says we’re not having luck finding anyone else either so Bibimi is your best bet,” you told him.

Bakugou looked down his perfect nose at you. “Anyone in this damn studio could do better than she does.”

You felt your eyebrows raise. Bibimi was popular with a variety of audiences for her exaggeratedly dollish features—you doubted just anyone could fill in for her and look as good. You said as much to Bakugou, and he scoffed.

“‘S not about looking good, it’s about showing that you’re feeling good,” he said plainly, igniting a wave of fire across your cheeks. The flames worsened when he crossed his arms over his chest and you had occasion to notice he was in nothing but a workout tank, his bare biceps flexing enticingly in the studio lighting.

You were thankfully spared from having to form a coherent response by Yaoyorozu stepping into the room. She was tailed by Komori, and wore a troubled expression. She waved an elegant hand that encompassed both your camp in the corner and the directors on the other side of the room.

“Bibimi is unfortunately out. And we cannot use Shiozaki or Kendo. I am afraid we may have to call off the shoot this afternoon,” she said.

“So get someone else in,” Bakugou said, with his usual brisk directness. He turned to face her. You caught the whiff of something light and clean on him as he did so, laundry detergent and recently-applied shampoo.

Yaoyorozu fixed him with an expectant look. “We’ve unfortunately worked our way through the roster of available performers. Unless you know someone else?”

Bakugou stared back at her evenly, arching a blonde brow. “There’re a bunch of extras already here, aren’t there?”

A little shock went through you. Extras. As in the…people in the room right now? Did he really mean the production staff?

Yaoyorozu blinked, apparently taken aback. Then her gaze slid thoughtfully between Komori, Mina, and you. Another little thrill raced through you, like you’d suddenly missed a step. Surely they both could not actually be considering that.

“I’m a hoe but I’m a loyal hoe,” Mina said from next to you, immediately putting up a rosy palm. “Eiji is my one and only, sorry babes.”

Yaoyorozu nodded. “Of course, I would not expect you to violate any commitments you already had to a significant other.”

“I am also seeing someone,” Komori volunteered, a shy little blush sweeping across her cheeks. You smiled a bit at her obvious regard for whoever it was—until you sensed a dozen pairs of eyes suddenly turning to you.

Your stomach dropped—less of a missed step then and more of a sudden push off a cliff.

Worst of all was the pair of scarlet eyes suddenly burning with undue regard in your direction. You stared straight at Yaoyorozu, unable to meet Bakugou’s gaze. You still felt like you might burn up under his scrutiny, like an ant under a magnifying glass.

“I—uh—” you said dumbly, floundering for the right set of words to explain yourself. “Uhh.”

“You seeing anybody?” Bakugou prodded, prompting a fresh wave of heat to your cheeks.

“Well—no—”

“You clean?” he asked.

Your face burned hotter. “Yes, if you must know—-but uh—”

“Then what?” he prompted.

“Is it that easy for you? To just switch partners like that?” you asked. You weren’t exactly a blushing virgin but you still had only slept with partners you had cared for. Bakugou had worked with you for years and never signaled anything beyond dismissal and semi-professionalism—so it wasn’t like he had that same level of interest in you, despite your enormous crush on him. How could he just switch, just like that?

Bakugou uncrossed his arms to settle his hands on slim hips instead, and he gave you another evaluating once over. “Something the matter with you?” he asked. You noticed he did not ask if you thought something was the matter with him. You wondered if your crush on him was that apparent.

“No,” you said defensively. “Just—I don’t know that I’d be any good on camera.”

“You’ve been in videos before,” Mina pointed out, tugging playfully on your belt loop. “You were in Bibimi’s Christmas special a couple years ago.”

“That was different,” you said, staring at her. “I was her evil coworker who sent her running into Tetsutetsu’s muscular arms. I didn’t have to get naked.”

“We can give you time to get prepared,” Yaoyorozu promised kindly. “If you wanted to um, clean up or trim—”

“It’s not that!” you said quickly, waving your arms. Your ears burned. “I just mean I would be shy.”

Bakugou watched you silently for another long moment, his full mouth pursed in thought. His gaze dragged down your body and then back up to your face, and you felt it like a physical touch.

“Then if you forgot you were on camera?” he asked, a rasp in his tone.

You blinked at him dumbly. “If I—forgot?”

“If I made you forget,” he said, flashing a sharp smirk. The arrogance looked so good on him, zinging through your veins like an electric current. Your cheeks and ears flared even hotter, until you thought you might actually be emitting smoke from them.

You tried to form words but seemed to have trouble shaping the proper ones with your tongue, making a series of choking noises before you managed. “There is no way you could—you’re not that good.”

Something hot flared to life behind Bakugou’s eyes, and his smirk curled even sharper. “We’ll see about that.”

“What if Bakugou helps you get over your nerves, and we just try it and see how you do.” Yaoyorozu prompted gently. “Is that something you would be willing to do? Of course we won’t pressure you.”

Your gaze jerked back to her as you startled. For just a second you’d sort of forgotten there was anyone in the room but Bakugou.

“I sort of doubt—but if you really need—I mean I could—try…” you fumbled out.

Yaoyorozu nodded gratefully, looking pleased again. “Alright, then let’s at least try it. Mina please find proper costuming and help get Y/N ready. I will draw up a short contract with the same terms we promise all our on camera talent for you to look over when you’re done.”

You nodded, a little dazed. Had you really just agreed to—?

But then Mina was laughing, grabbing you by the elbow and drawing you out of the room. She marched you towards the back of the studio building where she’d amassed a respectable wardrobe, racks upon racks of clothes. “Alright, this is going to be so fun! I love dressing new talent! It’s always fun to work out what’s going to work with your coloring and style on screen.”

The mention of you doing anything on screen had all the blood draining from your veins, but Mina didn’t seem to mind. She kept up a stream of happy, easy chatter as she pecked around in the racks like a chicken hunting a grasshopper. Eventually she emerged with a robe in a deep pink, slippery and silky and glistening faintly under the overheads.

“Okay so you’re supposed to be a loving couple celebrating your anniversary and looking for ways to spice things up,” she said. “So you’ll be waiting for him to come home, looking delicious in this little slip of a thing. He can unwrap you like a V-Day present!”

Her callback to the plot of the shoot suddenly made you realize there were way more things involved in the project than just being pawed at on screen—and you did not know any of Bibimi’s lines. How the hell were you supposed to deliver any kind of performance?

“Don’t worry about it, I assure you the gears are already churning in Momo’s big brain,” Mina said when you asked as much. She peeled you out of your sweater and jeans, and ushered you into the robe. Cheeks burning, you let her look you over to make sure you were properly groomed for the camera.

Then before you could get cold feet, she bundled you up and shepherded you back into the set room and set to work on you with her various pots of paint and ointments. She worked a couple things into your hair, applied something glossy and sticky to your mouth, and adjusted the fit of your robe to her liking until she pronounced you ready.

Yaoyorozu was already leaning over you by the time Mina released you, laying out a packet of sheets in front of you. She detailed the terms to you in the professional, clipped tone you’d heard her conduct business in before, and soon enough you were penning in your own name in a shaky hand. The strokes looked almost foreign on the page, and you felt a little more than lightheaded thinking about what you’d just signed yourself into.

“So—what am I supposed to do about Bibimi’s lines?” you asked, your voice coming out kind of dry and crackly.

“We’re going to improvise,” Yaoyorozu said. “Bakugou will guide you. Try to respond as best you can to what he says, along the framework of being a couple celebrating their anniversary. It’s most important to capture your intimacy, however, so we can always come back and reshoot any dialog as needed after. You can call him Katsuki, there are no aliases for this shoot.”

You nodded, feeling even more nervous now that all the prerequisites had been completed.

That left Komori waiting for you. She was apparently assuming the duties you’d abandoned by becoming the star of this absurd alternate dimension. She led you over to what had been meant to be Bibimi’s starting mark on the bed and helped you spread your pink robe out enticingly. You almost laughed as you helped her, feeling foolish and distinctly unsexy for the deliberateness of it all.

There was nothing less romantic than half a dozen other people in the room with you, cameras and hot lights trained on you like you were an escaped convict under a helicopter floodlight. You got the impression that it was going to be a monumental task to work up the nerve to even loosen the tie on your robe, nevermind remove it.

Except then Bakugou walked in.

He’d changed, sometime in the half hour or so Mina had had you in her clutches. He prowled into the room in a dark charcoal suit, the consummate businessman home from his generic businessman job.

He looked unfairly good in it too—the close cut of it highlighted how his broad shoulders slashed inwards into a trim waist, and his pants showcased the flex of a strong, hard thigh. He’d acquired a chunky wristwatch in a dark metal, and it glinted dully under the overhead lights.

He looked sleek and dangerous, even though you’d just seen him stomping around in sweatpants not thirty minutes prior. You felt your breath escape you in a whoosh, your heartbeat kicking up as he prowled closer.

“I’m home, angel,” he said, a smoky rasp curling on the end of his voice. Despite the pet name, he sounded enough like his usual self that you almost answered him in turn.

You vaguely remembered you were obliged to playact with him, and you summoned up your nerve. “Hi, Katsuki,” you said. You hoped your voice did not sound too shaky. “Happy Anniversary.”

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes dipped down to your robe, fastening to the spot where it gaped open suggestively over one thigh. Your skin buzzed like a hive of bees was trapped beneath it.

“This my present?” he asked, stalking closer. He snagged the tie of your robe in his long fingers, toying with it speculatively.

“It should be easy to open,” you joked, then almost cringed.

Sexy. You were supposed to be sexy, not goofy as hell. And what happened when he really did try to open it?

A small amount of panic crept up your spine again, seeping into your veins. You did not feel ready to be naked before all of the eyes in this room, nevermind the roving gaze of the internet. What had you been thinking, signing up for this?

Your hand came up defensively to tug the robe tie back out of Bakugou’s hand, only for it to be captured too. Bakugou tugged you up and to him, and your face broke out in another sweeping wave of flame as you felt the hard planes of him against you. He was so warm, and smelled so good up close and you could not even begin to know what to do or where to put your hands—

Before you could ask him what the heck he was doing, however, he brought your captured hand to his mouth. You almost leapt out of your skin when you felt the gentle press of his lips on the inside of your wrist, the careful flicker of a tongue. Those scarlet eyes slid over you knowingly, near enough that you could see tiny flecks of deep purple in them.

His other hand came up to take your chin, his thumb stroking over the side of your jaw. The feeling made you shiver slightly, and it must have been clearly visible because the corner of Bakugou's mouth lifted into a smirk against your wrist. Your heart hammered against your ribcage, every inch of your skin thrilling with the feeling of your longtime crush doing something this to you.

“Think I’m gonna enjoying opening you alright,” Bakugou intoned.

You struggled to remember what he was talking about, giving up almost immediately as his mouth trailed along the inside of your arm. It traced up and up and up, until he was hovering dangerously close to your face. His fingers tightened on your chin, tilting your face up to his.

And then he bent his head, and crushed his mouth to yours.

Immediately, everything else disappeared.

Kissing Bakugou was three thousand zillion times hotter than you could have ever even imagined. You’d sort of imagined that with an attitude like his, he would be all power and impatience. And the power was there, but leashed, somehow. His mouth was hot and shockingly sweet on yours, and his fingers cupped your face to his, holding you there like he planned to kiss you for hours yet.

Your head was spinning by the time he let your mouth free, and the dip of his blonde lashes as he looked you over was extraordinarily self-satisfied.

His hand on your chin went to your robe instead, pulling the collar wide so that he could lower his mouth inside instead, kissing over your throat. You seized fistfuls of his suit, clinging to him, as he mapped a hot path across your shoulder and collarbone, one of his hands coming up to up your chest.

You heard yourself let out a soft hiss as his thumb pressed over your nipple through the silky fabric. Bakugou sucked a careful bruise into the side of your neck as he did it again, letting out a barely audible snort when you jerked in his hold, unconsciously arching into his hand.

“So sensitive for me, angel,” he drawled as his other hand came up to carefully pinch your other nipple.

You heard yourself make a small, choked off noise like a whine, and you could feel Bakugou’s lips pull into an answering smirk against your throat. You didn’t think you had been quite this responsive to a partner before—but something about the careful, purposeful way he was touching you had your blood running quicker in your veins.

Bakugou’s thumbs traced slow, deliberate circles over your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to make you groan. He teased you again and again as his mouth traced higher on your neck.

Within minutes you were panting, a slow, syrupy pleasure dripping down into your core.

Bakugou tugged your robe wider, then bent his head. You felt the tickle of his hair against your collarbone, softer than you would have thought, as his mouth closed over the point of one nipple. The draw of his mouth had you arching up into him immediately, pleasure zinging through your veins.

“Oh my god,” you said, seizing a fistful of that blonde hair.

Bakugou’s tongue teased at the nipple, and you writhed in his hold. Then he did the same to your other one, and you thought you might die. He hadn’t even touched you yet and you already wanted to crawl out of your skin with impatience.

“Katsuki—please,” you heard yourself say, almost distantly. “Katsuki—oh!”

“Please what, angel?” he said into the skin of your chest, before laying his mouth back over your nipple and giving a sweet suck.

“Oh my god—please!” you said, stupidly. Not an answer to his question but you’d forgotten how to string words together, your brain-to-mouth connection running on autopilot.

“Gonna have to be more specific, sweetheart,” Bakugou said, and you heard the relish in it. Your face burned, and you yanked his hair a little more firmly. He just groaned, and then sucked you a little harder.

“Touch me! Please—Katsuki,” you panted out, hips flexing unconsciously with the pull of your nipple.

“Thought this was my gift, angel. I can’t enjoy it how I want?” he asked.

You considered his words muzzily, having no idea what he was talking about. Gift? What gift was he talking about?

Bakugou’s scarlet eyes flicked up to yours, and something in your expression must have told him you had no idea what he was on about. His mouth pulled up into a self-satisfied grin, and he leaned up to kiss you again.

You flattened yourself out against his chest, all but velcroing yourself to him. You wanted to feel every inch of that hard body against you, wanted to climb as far into him as you could. Something gratifyingly hard pressed against your stomach as you kissed him, and he grunted, locking you to him with a muscled arm across your back.

“Want me to touch you, angel?” he asked.

You nodded. A smile played across his lips.

“Get on the bed for me then, sweetheart.”

It took a minute for you to process but then you were scrambling to obey, scrabbling your way onto the bed, turning and watching as Bakugou stepped nearer.

He shed his jacket as he approached, yanking off his tie too and flinging it somewhere behind him. Then he crawled over you, his fingers seizing the ties of your robe as he did. He pulled it open gently, then yanked a little harder until the silk tie slid free.

His eyes picked over it speculatively, then flashed back up to you. A look of intent interest settled over his features.

“You ever been tied up before, angel?” he asked.

You shook your head, even as it swam with the implication. Your skin prickled, somehow growing even hotter. He didn’t mean to…?

“You gonna let me?” he asked.

You rather thought you would let him do anything he wanted with you. The question was barely out of his mouth before you were nodding hurriedly. A shocked laugh punched out of him, and he gathered up your wrists, scooting you backwards until they pressed against the headboard.

He looped the silk around your wrists, gathering it into a series of complicated knots. He moved with a purpose and precision, his movements sure and practiced. You tested the give of the ties when he sat back on his haunches, finding that they held firm, even when you put a little more muscle into it.

Bakugou’s gaze blazed over you, hot like coals. His eyes traced over your body, spread out under him now, your silk robe pooling at either side of you in a pink puddle.

He bent his head and kissed you again, until you were fuzzy with the feeling once more. Then he worked his way downwards, softly biting your shoulder, licking over one nipple, pressing deep kisses into your belly and then indent of your left hip.

A shock of pleasure raced through you when you realized where he was going with this, and you let out an involuntarily little gasp as he hooked your thighs over his broad shoulders.

“Katsuki,” you began, though you had no idea what you meant to follow it up with. Bakugou didn’t wait for you to finish, ducking his head and licking a hot stripe up the cleft of you.

Immediately you arched, thighs flexing under his hands. Your face heated when he laughed again, but any embarrassment was instantly forgotten when he licked over you again, slower and more deliberate this time.

“Oh my god,” you said again, biting off into a groan when his tongue dipped deeper between your folds, flicking up over your clit.

“Yeah, angel?” Bakugou asked, his voice a heady rasp. “You like that?” He layered another open mouthed kiss over you, slow and thorough, until you were arching up into his mouth again.

It would have been evident to anyone on earth how much you liked it from the noises you made, the way you kicked and squirmed with the movement of his mouth. He sucked your clit gently into his mouth, then laved over it firmly as he pressed his fingers to you, the pads of his index and middle slowly sinking into you.

Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head when he gave another slow suck, the feeling almost too much. His fingers pressed deeper into you, easily slipping in with how comically wet you were for him. The gentle suction of his mouth made everything a million times better, everything a million times worse, as he carefully curled his fingers within you. He seemed to immediately find a spot within you that felt like he was touching your clit from the other side too, and the feeling was immediately far too much.

“Holy shit,” you heard yourself say, cutting off into an honest to god whine when his tongue swirled around your clit, just as he teased a finger along you from the inside too. “Katsuki—oh! Katsuki please! Please oh my god oh my god.”

Bakugou’s ministrations grew a fraction firmer, and you heard him groan too as he kissed you messily.

“So fucking hot for me, sweetheart. So sweet,” he said, then sucked again, a tiny bit harder this time. His fingers stroked you from the inside, a firm, deliberate rhythm that had you turning your face and muffling a keen into the meat of your arm.

Your hips flexed against his face, wild and uncontrolled, wanting less, more, not enough, too much, oh my god—

“Katsuki!” you cried, as you suddenly hit the crest of your pleasure. Your wrists pulled against their bonds, and the feeling of helpless restraint suddenly made everything feel a thousand times more intense. Every single nerve ending in your body felt like it was on fire, so that even the air of the room seemed too harsh on your skin. You screamed as you rode out your pleasure against Bakugou’s face.

He worked you through it diligently, licking and sucking until you collapsed back to the mattress, panting like you’d just run a marathon.

“Good, angel?” Bakugou asked.

You nodded breathlessly, turning your face to his when he crawled up your body to kiss you again. The taste of yourself on him was both embarrassing and thrilling, but Bakugou didn’t give you much leeway to consider it, kissing you into a stupid, pliant little puddle against the mattress.

You could feel him hard and hot against your hip as he did so, but he didn’t make any move to get inside you yet. Instead, his hands moved over you, slowly teasing you from satiation back into want. His fingers played with your nipples again, pinching them softly and rolling them. It felt like he'd rigged up some kind of wire, leading from your nipples right to your core, that lit the pilot flame of your interest again.

A couple minutes of diligent teasing, and easy, unhurried kisses had you wiggling under him again soon enough. It was only then, when you realized you were unconsciously rocking your hips against Bakugou’s, that he finally sat back to shuck off his shirt and pants.

He was so unfairly beautiful, bared in the bright light of the room. You’d known he was gorgeous, of course, but up close he was something else entirely. He was chiseled with thick muscle, his chest and arms hard and glowing faintly with perspiration. The light and the shadows of the room played over the divots of his muscles with a deliberate care, like he was a painting instead of a man, highlighting him in loving shades. A set of perfect abs trailed down into the hard jut of hip bones over his pelvis, and his cock was just as upsettingly gorgeous as the rest of him. It was thick and full and flush with his arousal, and he wasted no time crawling back between your thighs.

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked. His voice had gone even more gravelly than usual, and it plucked at your core like a string.

“Please, Katsuki,” you said, your voice embarrassingly breathy. You couldn’t help yourself though, couldn’t be ashamed with the easy way your thighs fell apart for him. Your ankles hooked across his back, trying to pull him closer still.

He groaned and surged up over you to grab a condom off the nightstand. He quickly rolled it onto himself in one practiced movement, before immediately pressing himself into you.

He sank in mortifyingly easily, you already half out of your mind with want. He didn’t seem to mind, though—you heard the soft, sibilant hiss of his own pleasure as he filled you, and your robe tugged the skin of your shoulder as he fisted a hand in it, just beside your head.

“Been dying to fuck you, angel,” he said. “Thinking about how hot and tight and sweet you would be for me. Been thinking about it nonstop.”

You made a vague noise of agreement, moving your hips with his as he drew back and pressed inside of you again. The slide of him inside you was mind-numbingly good, the pressure against your stomach as he pressed back in almost sparking stars in your vision. The flex of his abs between your thighs as he found his pace was almost immediately too much for you, and you had to turn your face away. You tilted your face up to his, watching him as he watched you.

Bakugou seemed to read your expression easily, finding the angle and pace you liked incredibly quickly. He slid an arm under the small of your back to angle your hips up into him, yanking you up like you were nothing, and the show of easy strength had your toes flexing and curling against his back.

He kissed you again, catching the sounds of your pleasure in his mouth as he rocked into you. You moved against him, hips bucking, delirious with the feeling of him. Eventually he freed his arm from under you, pressing his thumb to your slit again with deadly precision.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned into his mouth, legs tightening on him as he played with your clit. The almost-too-gentle sensation of his thumb on your clit, coupled with the relentless drive of him inside you had your vision sparking and greying at the edges. His face swam in front of yours, and all of your limbs began to feel shivery, almost too weak to lift yourself into him the way you needed, to rock against him and find relief from the friction.

Bakugou continued to tease at you, carefully pinching and petting. His hips drove into you tirelessly, slapping the bottoms of your thighs, as you strained in your silk bonds, wanting to grab him, pull him even harder into you.

“Katsuki, please please please,” you heard yourself begging. You felt him smile against your mouth, tasted his reply more than heard it.

“You want me to let you cum, angel?” he asked, doing something with his fingers that made your breath catch in your lungs.

“Unhh, yes—please!” you cried, desperation coming over you in a white haze.

You had never—never—been so desperate for anything in your entire life. You didn’t know how Bakugou was doing it, why his touch felt like so much more than anything else you’d ever felt in your life. If he didn’t let you cum you were certain you were going to die, right here and right now.

“You gonna scream for me, sweetheart?” Bakugou asked, his voice raspier than you’d ever heard it. He grit the words out, like he too was on the edge of his own climax, barely staving it off.

“Anything, I will do anything,” you babbled senselessly. “Yes—going to scream for you—Katsuki!”

Bakugou’s gaze was hotter than you’d ever seen it, scarlet eyes clouded with pleasure, glowing like banked coals. “Then you can come for me, angel. Come on, sweetheart.”

“Oh!” you cried in answer, your feet planting themselves on the bed to jut your hips up hard. Bakugou’s thumb pressed hard against your clit, then, firm and merciless, and he fucked into you harder, his pace growing faster, furious.

Your second orgasm hit you like a truck, snapping your spine into alignment, locking all your limbs up as if in rigor mortis.

“Katsuki!” you wailed as you writhed against him, clenching and fluttering around him as you sobbed.

“Oh fuck,” you heard him say, and his hips stuttered. You realized he was coming too, fucking into you sloppily and disjointedly as he rode out his own pleasure. You arched and spasmed with him, clawing uselessly at the silk that bound you, twisting in blissful agony.

When you finally came back to yourself you found yourself slumped on the bed, Bakugou’s weight pinning you down into the mattress. His chest was slicked to yours with sweat, and you could feel the rapid rise and fall of it against you as he caught his breath.

“That good, angel?” he asked, his voice heady with satisfaction.

You nodded, absently turning your face back up to his for a kiss. He granted it, kissing you almost possessively. He looked soft and rumpled, just the way you'd always liked him, and something in you purred with satisfaction at finally getting to have him like this for you.

Gradually, you became aware of other sounds in the room as you came down from your high. Quiet murmuring and the sounds of shuffling met your ears, the shutter click of a camera lens slicing through the atmosphere like a knife.

A sudden shock raced through you when you realized you and Bakugou were not alone—and you were on the set of a porn film, half a dozen eyes glued to you just over one of Bakugou’s thick shoulders.

A porn film. You had been shooting a porn film!

“And cut!” you heard the director’s voice ring out, like a bucket of water dumped over your head.

You tensed up beneath Bakugou, mind racing. Holy shit, he had actually managed to make you forget, exactly the way he'd promised.

You could tell Bakugou was thinking the same thing as he went to untie you, looking extremely satisfied with himself.

“Told you, angel,” he said, flashing something of a feral grin. You hated how good the self-conceit looked on him.

You went to draw your wrists back to yourself as he let them free. But Bakugou caught them instead, carefully massaging the skin there as if to make sure things were circulating properly. It was a startling note of unexpected care, as was the way he drew your robe closed around you again against the sudden chill of the room.

You found yourself saying wonderingly, “Wow. It was just that easy for you to switch partners like that.”

The thought somehow stung, even though you’d known going into this what you were getting yourself into. Somehow, the latent care and intention with which Bakugou had fucked you had addled your brain, made you think your connection had been something more. He had felt like he had feelings, beyond those mimed for the camera.

But here was evidence to the contrary, plain and simple. There literally was a camera.

Except then Bakugou looked down at you, a frown marring his pouty mouth. “Well yeah. ‘Course it was gonna be that easy when it’s you we’re talking about.”

You blinked at him, not understanding what he was saying. “Uh. When it’s—me?”

A crease came in between Bakugou’s blonde brows. “I said it, didn’t I? While we were fucking? Wanted to fuck you for a long time. Of course it was easy.”

Your stomach dropped, like a rug had just been yanked out from beneath you. “You—have? What? Since when?” you demanded.

Bakugou leveled you with an unimpressed stare. “Since the second time we met,” he said, and your mind flashed back to the way he’d seemed not to recognize you, that second time you'd spoken to him. “Once I realized you did work for UA and weren’t actually a little fucking creep trying to lure me into your car.”

You felt your eyebrows shoot towards your hairline. “Then—? For years? You cannot be serious. You never acted like we were anything other than coworkers!”

Bakugou scoffed. “We fucking were coworkers. And I told you, I don’t fuck coworkers off the clock.”

You blinked again, startled by the level of professionalism couched in the crassess of his statement. It made sense, you supposed, for a pornstar of Bakugou’s caliber to have put boundaries like that in place. Probably everyone in the world would just be dying for a shot at him.

“Wow,” you said, almost to yourself. You didn’t know what to do with this new information, wondered how it was going to be possible to behave professionally with Bakugou at all going forward. It was probably obvious to him how big your crush on him was, given that he’d known all along he could make you forget you were on camera. Given the way you reacted to him embarrassingly easily.

Except then Bakugou leaned forward, putting his face startlingly close to yours. “Emphasis on were, since this is my last shoot,” he said.

You stared at him, wondering if you were interpreting the implication correctly. There was no way he meant—?

“Uhhhh, meaning what, exactly?” you prompted, heart beating just a little bit quicker despite yourself.

Bakugou’s mouth turned up into a gorgeous smirk, and he ducked his head even closer, voice going softer.

“Meaning you’re going to get dressed and I’m going to take us to get something to eat,” he said, fingers playing at the edge of your robe. “And then you’re going to give me that ride home in your car after all. And we are going to do this all over again.”

Flames erupted across your face, sweeping across your cheeks. And you were up out of the bed before you even realized what you were doing, catching yourself on the bedside table as you stumbled.

Bakugou’s laugh chased out of the set room as you raced towards the wardrobe again. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to care, this time.

Not when your heart felt like it was going to beat right out of your chest. You smothered a smile as you ran down the hallway.

Much like Bakugou had just done to you—it looked like your hopes and dreams were finally lining themselves up and filling themselves in.

[boycannibal]

its so sad/weird reading about catholic/christian guilt and shame and fear and etc because. i dont know what was different about my upbringing because it was in religion and in faith. but i never had anything like that. its still such a weird feeling

[dandelionsresilience]

Dandelion News - February 15-21

Like these weekly compilations? Tip me at $kaybarr1735 or check out my Dandelion Doodles!

1. Solar farms managed for nature boost bird abundance and diversity, new study finds

“There were more than twice as many farmland birds in the well-managed solar farms compared with the intensively farmed land, and nearly 16 times as many woodland birds. […] Overall, diversity was 2.5 times higher, while woodland birds were nine times more diverse.”

2. Washington judge blocks Trump’s gender-affirming care ban, says it's unconstitutional in multiple ways

“This marks the second time in a week that a judge has stood in the way of Trump’s attacks on trans kids. [… The ruling grants] a temporary restraining order that halts enforcement of provisions in Trump’s directive that would cut off federal funding to medical institutions that provide gender-affirming care to minors.”

3. Fog harvesting could provide water for arid cities

“17,000 sq m of mesh could produce enough water to meet the weekly water demand of [… the] urban slums. 110 sq m could meet the annual demand for the irrigation of the city's green spaces. Fog water could be used for soil-free (hydroponic) agriculture, with yields of 33 to 44lb (15 to 20kg) of green vegetables in a month.”

4. Audubon Applauds Bipartisan Federal Effort to Protect Delaware River Basin with Critical Reauthorization Bill

“The bill would […] ensure long-term conservation and restoration efforts, expand the official definition of the basin to include Maryland, and prioritize projects that serve small, rural, and disadvantaged communities. […] The watershed provides important year-round habitats and critical migratory stopovers for approximately 400 bird species[….]”

5. mRNA vaccines show promise in pancreatic cancer in early trial

“Half of the people in the study — eight of the participants — responded to the vaccine, producing T cells that targeted their tumors. […] Just two of the patients who had a response to the vaccine had their cancer return during the three-year follow- up, compared to seven of the eight who did not respond to the vaccine treatments.”

6. Minn. Lt. Gov. Flanagan Makes It Official; She's running for U.S. Senate

“[Flanagan has] “championed kitchen-table issues like raising the minimum wage, paid family and medical leave, and free school meals.” If elected, Flanagan, a tribal citizen of the White Earth Nation, would become the first Native American female U.S. senator in history.”

7. Federal Funding Restored for Low-Income Alabama Utility Assistance After Outcry

“A program meant to help low-income Alabamians pay their utility bills has resumed two weeks after it was canceled due to an executive order from President Donald Trump. […] “We can confirm the funds are reaching those affected by the previous pause[….]””

8. Modeling study suggests Amazon rainforest is more resilient than assumed

“[Previous] studies were either conducted with global climate models that used a simplified representation of convection [or were on a regional scale….] According to the computations, mean annual precipitation in the Amazon does not change significantly even after complete deforestation.“

9. States are moving forward with Buy Clean policies despite Trump reversal

““Buy Clean is a great example of how states and other nonfederal actors can continue to press forward on climate action, regardless of what the federal government does,” said Casey Katims, executive director of the U.S. Climate Alliance, a bipartisan coalition of two dozen governors.”

10. The rewilded golf courses teeming with life

“A wildflower meadow, ponds, scrub habitat, coastline and even an area of peat bog can be found on this little 60-acre (24-hectare) plot, which boasts roe deer, otters, lizards, eels and a huge array of insects and birds.”

February 8-14 news here | (all credit for images and written material can be found at the source linked; I don’t claim credit for anything but curating.)

[haveihitanerve]

Four Times the Batkids Forget They're Adopted, and The One Time Damian Forgets He Isn't

It had started off as a joke, as most things do, and Dick meant nothing behind it, really. It was amusing to him, actually, to tell his coworkers things about Batman and pass it off as his father. “Oh my dad? Yeah hes not big on talking. He loves showing me he cares though.” (this was, of course, in reference to Batman doing three back flips and a kick split when Nightwing had patrolled with him the other day, a classic Nightwing move) But it soon…went deeper. Dick stopped making jokes out of it, and actually began listing things about Bruce. About his Dad. It didn't help that his police friends were actually interested. “So did you and the old man do anything fun over the weekend?” Dick thought back to how he had wanted to surprise Bruce by stopping by for dinner and instead had ended up in the sewer eating granola bars on a stakeout for killer croc, who had escaped. Again. “Oh yeah we had a picnic.” Dick nodded, smiling at Randy. “Yeah. He’s, he’s kinda bad at remembering when to eat a meal on time and all that.” Dick laughed. “Its something I share too. Must be genetics.” He rolled his eyes. Randy laughed, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “I hear you. My old man smoked all the live long day. I try to keep it down, but that addiction gene is just strong eh?” Dick chuckled. “Yeah I guess.” His phone buzzed in his pocket and he waved to Randy, turning to tug it out. It was one, simple message from Babs. “Ur adopted genius. What genes.” 

Jason didn't even know how they had gotten on the topic. But here they were. “Yes. I got my mothers hair, of course, but I get my temper from my father.” Artemis was saying. “I have parents.” Bizarro grunted. Roy laughed, smacking him on the shoulder. “Well you certainly didn't get Kal’s looks buddy. But you do have his killer hair.” Starfire laughed. “That is true. I, for one, share my parents hair and have my fathers powers. But truly the best gene I was given were my mothers eyes.” They all turned to Jason. “What about you?” Roy asked. Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I used to have my dads eyes but um after the pit y'know,” He waved to his now green eyes. “And actually I have my dads dark black hair, and he’s graying early too, which might be why my white streak is so prominent.” They nodded in agreement. “But yeah, hes actually a little taller than me so maybe I’ll still grow a few inches but uh yeah. I don't… remember my mother enough to talk about her.” “Dang man. I wish we could meet your dad.” Roy murmured, laying a comforting hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Then we could really compare. I mean-” He laughed. “You sound like his carbon copy.” Jason frowned at his friend. “What do you mean? You’ve met Bruce?” They stared at him. “Jason,” Artemis began slowly. “Aren't you adopted?” 

Tim hunched over the information form, eyes straining to read the small print. His hand reached up to stifle a yawn and he settled for a sigh instead. It was late, but Tim needed to get the form done before he went to bed, otherwise everything would be far too stressful in the morning. He reached over and grabbed his coffee mug, a dark black cup that had a red R painted on it poorly. Bruce had made it for him a few years ago when he had first become Red Robin. He sipped it, staring down at the medical form. “Gods I hate having to do this.” He muttered, but reluctantly grabbed the thick medical binder Alfred had obligingly gotten for him when he had asked for medical records of the family. Tim did not under any circumstances, want to have to sit at the doctors office the next day and somehow lie his way through all the medical questions relating to his family history. He didn't have the time nor patience for it, and it was crucial he was given proper medical advice what with his missing spleen. “Any history of heart issues Bruce?” Tim muttered, flipping back past Martha and Thomas to Bruce’s great great great grandfather. “Nope, guess not.” Tim was halfway through the form when he realized the blood coursing through his veins wasn't Bruce’s. 

Steph rubbed a hand across her belly, staring at the monitor. “Your baby looks good Ms. Brown. They’re at the proper stage. Due in about two months. We’ll see you back here for your next check up.” “thank you doctor.” Steph murmured, sliding off the bed and dressing quickly before hurrying out to her car. The car door slammed shut behind her and she breathed, pressing her forehead to the steering wheel. Her phone buzzed. She lifted it and pressed it to her ear, hitting accept. “Hello?” “hey Steph.” Bruce’s voice vibrated through the phone. “How was your doctors appointment?” Steph gave a bitter laugh. “Everything looks good. The baby will come in about two months.” “Thats good. Thats real good.” Steph nodded, eyes closed. “You doing okay Stephanie?” Bruce asked, voice soft. “I don't know.” her voice broke and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting tears. “I just- I’m so scared Bruce. So scared.” Bruce hummed comfortingly through the phone. “I know Steph. Its scary. And parenting, its hard.” Steph coughed out a watery chuckle. “Was that a hit?” She muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. Bruce chuckled. “No. Baby it wasn't. And just think, you’ll get to see all the firsts I didn't get with you. Their first steps. Their first wave. You might even get to hear them say mama before i kidnap- i mean adopt him or her.” Steph laughed again, and it sounded less watery. “Yeah. Well, when do kids start walking?” She asked in interest, sniffing and sitting up straight again. Bruce hummed. “Well i started walking almost immediately, but Im special.” Steph laughed. “Of course.” “alfred said i first started talking when I was around thirteen months old, and Talia said Damian was walking by ten, but she could have been lying.” Steph nodded. “Tell me more.” She whispered. Bruce obliged, happy to distract her. “Oh and whats probably going to be your favorite, babies, or at least I did, start laughing at around four months.” “laughing?” Steph gasped. “Oh Brucie!!! Thats too funny! Little chubby baby you, the future batman, laughing!” She cooed. She could almost feel his eye roll through the phone and stifled her laugh. “So yeah..” Bruce finished. “You should expect your kiddo to start walking around then. And laughing probably sooner. I would have if you'd be in my life at that time.” Steph was quiet. “Thank you B.” He hummed. “Anytime Steph. I’ll always be here to help you.” “Wait wait wait-” a new voice joined in the background of Bruce. “Are you guys serious right now?” Steph identified it as Jason. “What?” Bruce asked puzzled. “B, Stephs adopted. Her kid is as likely to walk at the same time you did as when she did!” 

“Damian?” “Go away Drake.” Damian called back, riffling through the papers. “Dami?” Tim poked his head into his younger brothers room. “Oh hey kiddo. Whatcha doing?” “I am busy Timothy.” Damian countered in annoyance, shoving the box back under his bed and moving to his desk. “What are you looking for?” Tim asked puzzled. Damian ignored him. “Dami.” “Go away Timothy.” Tim crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe. “Come on Baby Bird. Tell me.” Damian shook his head, covering the blush on his cheeks by poking behind the desk. “Damian.” Tim’s hand was suddenly on his back. Damian jumped. Tim held up his hands in surrender. “Just tell me. I’m sure I can help you find it.” Damian sighed in acceptance, cheeks pink. “I have.. Lost my adoption papers.” He muttered, staring at the floor. But Tim didn't laugh or ridicule him. In fact, when he looked up, his brother seemed thoughtful. “Well i know me and dick and jason have them hung over our beds…” His gaze drifted to the very clearly empty space above Damians bed. “I know.” Damian jerked his head in a nod. “That is why I wished to find it.” Tim nodded in understanding. “Well, lets go look in the den. Thats where Alfred keeps all the legal stuff.” Damian trailed after his brother to the living room and watched as he opened the cabinet and pulled out three boxes. “You look through this one, I’ll search these two.” Tim ordered. Damian nodded, accepting the box. It was where Alfred found them, two hours later, broom in hand. “My dear sirs, what are you doing?” The butler asked in bafflement. “Looking for Damians adoption record.” Tim answered, nose still in some papers. Alfred looked at them. “Master Tim. Master Damian.” The two boys looked up. “Yes Alfred?” Tim asked. Alfred's face was fond and utterly confused. “Master Damian is not adopted. He is Master Bruce’s blood son.” 

@nonepizzawithleftglitter @zombiewithaflowercrown

you asked and you shall recieve!

[bakugoushotwife]

a/n: omg heyyy i make my grand return with my humble offering to @ohkento 's reddit theme collab!! i also have a piece for shouto coming up next, but here is the first one!! i took a while off after kinktober so if this is bad....lie to me!

warnings: dark content. nsfw. no minors. yandere theme gojo, no physical harm to reader, baby trapping, threats (not to reader), female reader, breeding, pentration, oral (fem!receiving), reader is kinda dumb lol.

summary: STORYTIME: I (28M) CAN'T STOP BREEDING MY GIRL BEST FRIEND (28F)!! it's a serious problem...i'm really reaching my breaking point here. i've been in love with this chick since high school and she keeps chasing other guys...but fucking me when the dates go wrong, help!

it’s been his dirty little secret since his years at tokyo tech. you’ve always been a looker, never were you short on attention from lesser men that aren’t worth your time—and yes, that includes when geto crushed on you all through the second year of school. but they never were quite what you were looking for, and every night of passion or attempt at a meaningful connection always ended the same—dialing up your closest confidant satoru to come console you and stuff your cunt full and wipe your tears–to make it better, like best friends do. 

satoru was all too aware of your little predicament, because he had struggled with the same issues–except he realized his fate years ago and was determined to have it. you are his and his alone, no matter how many scrubs that try to take you from him. if only you would open your eyes. you were obviously hopelessly in love with him, of course—that’s why no one could compare! and that’s why you always turned your teary eyes and pretty pussy to him after yet another date gone wrong. he knew he was the only cure, and he’s given up on hoping you’d see the truth for yourself. 

he tried to play the patience card, licking your tears off your face as he pounds his love into you, telling you that you’re worth so much more than those guys you keep letting break your heart. he tried being the nice guy that holds you after yet another promising prospect never texts you back–buying you dinner and bouncing you on his cock until you were crying from pleasure instead of heartbreak. each time, he buried his load in your womb until it was spilling out around him—hoping to give you no other choice but to pack your bags and move onto his estate to further the gojo clan with the very man at the head of it, but it seems your ovaries were just as stubborn as you are. he didn’t know how much more of this he could stomach—just waiting to be your knight in shining armor while laying in bed at night, staring at the pictures of you, both lewd and cute alike while wondering just how long it would take to have you laying beside him in his bed instead of the pixels on his phone screen. 

he’s had enough. it’s clear his plan isn’t working as designed. you must be on birth control—which is both irritating yet complimentary to him. of course you wouldn’t let these bums knock you up. is it insulting that this applies to his seed too? of course, but then again the whole dynamic was rather insulting wasn’t it? fucking other men and crying to him about it when they aren’t the perfect man for you. no shit—no man will ever know you like he does. none of them could ever compete with the life he could give you if you would just face the music. he doesn’t get it either. why bother? why look elsewhere? obviously you’re attracted to each other—so why won’t you make the next natural jump and stop it with the drama-packed weekly bachelorette episodes?

that’s okay. it’s really fine. satoru is such a good friend that he’ll help you, like he always does. he would simply help you to the conclusion that he wants and then everything can proceed according to plan! it shouldn’t be too difficult anyway, you’ll be calling any moment now! you had a date with yet another sure disappointment that gojo knows will desert you as soon as the date is finished. he’ll be dry and boring after the promising conversations you had in the days leading up to the date—you’ll be confused yet again—and the guy won’t pay either, set for split-bill city. gojo knows all of this because he’s ensured that’s what happens, of course! and this is the thirty-sixth man he’s had to pay off to show up to the date and forget about you. a price he’s more than willing to pay no matter how high, though it’s definitely added up over the years. and you know what—now that he thinks of it, none of them deserve you because their weak nature and corrupt morals. he’s been proven right every time, each one of these bottom feeders would take the money no questions asked—maybe that was due to his threats of horrific death if they so much as answered a text message from you again, but who could be sure? 

this one was especially easy to pay off, too. he didn’t even think twice about taking the money. it almost makes gojo mad. he clearly wasn’t heartbroken to walk away from you, and god you deserved so much better. you deserve a man that is willing to pay off any and every suitor that comes into your life just to make you his. you deserve a man so crazy about you he can hardly recognize himself. you deserve…well, him. he’s devoted himself to you for over a decade and it’s time for that to pay off.

your unique ringtone gets him out of his own head to answer, and of course, you’re crying and asking him to come over. pretty girls like you never learn, huh? that’s all forgiven though, as he is a teacher and it’s his passion to help you understand. 

“of course sugar. i’ll be right over. mhm–don’t mention it. that’s what friends are for.” he hums to you over his end of the phone, picking up his car keys to make it to you in record time. you’re your same beautiful self as you answer the door and welcome him inside, though he can see the tear tracks staining your face. it makes him pout a little at the sight no matter how used to it he is. he hates that you let these cretins upset you like this. 

“hey baby.” he pouts sympathetically with you, ducking under your arm to gaze around your familiar living room for any signs of a man he hadn’t yet heard about. he exhales a deep sigh when he finds none. he’s got his hands in his pockets, lips tightened in a knowing grimace. “so what was it this time? no—let me guess: split the bill and then he let you walk home in this weather?” 

you close the door after he’s entered with a heavy sigh. your bleary eyes fix on your hand still clasped around the doorknob, “yeah.” you tug your lip between your teeth and turn to face him. you didn’t have to answer him, for he already knew. it was borderline routine at this point and you were already embarrassed enough. you draw your arms around yourself to feel your own warmth, shaking your head. what was wrong with you? you used to be pined after, wanted—and now you couldn’t even get non-sorcerers to call you back. you haven’t had a second date in years, nor had an orgasm that wasn’t satoru’s handiwork. but even he didn’t want you permanently. you were a good friend and an even better fuck, that’s all. you knew it was pointless to yearn for him, sure he felt nothing other than his ever-present sense of duty and loyalty every-time he took your pain away–no matter the lies that poured out of his saccharine lips to do so. your sad eyes fix on his face, letting your plump bottom lip bounce out from your teeth’s trap. he smirks softly, cock rising because it knows exactly what that look means. 

but unfortunately for you, he won’t just hold you in his arms and promise that you’re worth so much more than you let yourself believe. tonight, he’s going to take what’s rightfully his—and his plan is already working beautifully. you never look away as you walk from the door to him, bracing your tiny and ineffectual hands on his chest. “what’s wrong with me, sato?” you pout, batting your long lashes up at him. his heart could stop just from that look alone. the comfort of his large hands covering yours soothes you already, making the tension drop from your shoulders. 

“you’re naive.” he answers, eyes as bright as ever as they glow like fireflies in your living room. if you were going just by the expression on his face, you’d think he said something kind or even funny, the way he grins softly and blinks his white lashes down at you in wait of your reply. you’re sure you misheard—every other time you asked this question he always said, “maybe you’re just too pretty, huh? ever thought of that, sugarplum?” 

“huh?” you tilt your head to one side, watching his expression shift to amusement. “naive? wh-what do you mean by that?” 

“well, if you weren’t so naive, you’d know, now wouldn’t you?” he pokes his tongue between his teeth, tucking his hands behind his back while you still lean helplessly against him. he likes feeling the weight of your body on his, and he’ll like it even more when he knows it’s a permanent thing. “you’re on birth control.” he states, and your confusion sets in even deeper. your brows furrow, but you nod. 

“yeah? what about that makes me naive?” you posit, used to his antics for the most part. you’ve been around him far too long to mistake his bluntness as an attack to you, even if it stings just a touch. though you did ask, and you have used him as your sexual relief and shoulder to cry on for years now. maybe he’s fed up with lying to save your feelings. 

he looks around for a second, humming. “where is it?” 

you also know better than to question him. if he’s asking you these questions it has to be for a reason—and you don’t have to understand him in the moment. just do what you’ve always done and trust him, support him on and off the battlefield–and never hesitate. it could be the difference between life and death. you learned that on missions together years ago. 

“in my nightstand?” you tilt your head to the other side. he has to admit your astonishment is adorable. he smiles down at you, cupping your cheek lightly. his fingers are so long that his thumb rests on the corner of your lips, fingertips brushing back your hair. 

“go get it for me.” he says as if he asked you to pass him the remote. you narrow your eyes to really study him—and then you see it. the teeming rage, the simmering crazy behind his eyes as they look at you. he is the most powerful man in the world, even if you were scared, there was nothing you could do but obey. but you trust him. and you nod. you turn to pad off to your bedroom and the clicks of his expensive boots follow. you’re used to the butterflies tickling your stomach as you lead him to bed, but you know something’s different this time. you feel like you’ll puke butterflies. but nonetheless, you pull the drawer of your nightstand open and fetch the little foil pack out of it, only a few pills missing from this month’s prescription. you turn to face him with it, mind racing on what he could possibly be doing. knowing him, he’s toying with you–trying to make you as nervous as possible and all this worrying is for no good reason. 

he sits at the edge of your bed, seemingly watching you with interest. he’s happy that you’re humoring him, that’s for sure. not even the faintest hint of protest. maybe you’re not as naive as he thought. in fact, your effortless obedience has his the crotch of his loose hakama’s tightening quickly. your heart jumps in your throat at the sight of him as it usually does—satoru gojo is far too beautiful to be in your house, supposedly telling you why you couldn’t keep a man. the black compression shirt was nearly criminal when it was wrapped around his perfect body. 

“good girl. now flush ‘em down the toilet for me.” he beams, blinding white teeth baring to smile at you. it was a simple request, really. he needed you to stop taking that poison and to stop entertaining the idea of other men. 

“why?” you swallow harshly, voicing your underlying suspicion. 

“don’t you trust me, baby?” he replies with a quickness, tilting his head to mirror yours. he’s doing well to keep himself together–you don’t understand his love for you yet, but he’ll take care of that. he’s a teacher, remember? “that stuff’s not good for you.” 

you hum. the side effects have been brutal, but you’re hardly in the spot for a baby. you can’t even get a boyfriend, much less a baby daddy. “yeah…i know. sucks taking it. guess i could get an iud or something instead.” you think aloud, voice becoming distant as you turn your back to him and dump your pills in the bathroom attached to your small room. you really undersell yourself. you could have been his bride eight years or so ago and been living large. but he’s going to fix it now. his jaw clenches at that declaration, and you feel him watching you the entire time—the doorway a straight shot from the spot he sat in on your bed. 

“no.” he says simply, the lightheartedness gone abruptly. it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your brain alert to the changes within him as he stands and cages you into the bathroom, broad arms stretching to block off the doorway. 

no? he doesn’t want you to protect yourself in any way? that seems a little ridiculous, but maybe he had a good reason. “satoru…i can’t get pregnant right now.” 

“why not?” he asks, looking over your little body nearly trembling from the darkness of his cursed energy growing more oppressive, nearly sucking the air out of the room. your heart pounds, more confused than you were at the start. 

“because i’m…single?” you try carefully, not sure exactly what you were dealing with here. satoru has always been so happy-go-lucky, even when he shouldn’t be. you remember begging him to talk out his stress so that he didn’t explode right after suguru left. so this anger you see set in his features shocks you, his bright and clear sky-colored eyes are clouded and murky, more cerulean than you’ve seen before. his brow is set and you can see the muscles twitching in his jaw. but he’s still smiling, and that for whatever reason is still real. 

“there’s that naivety again, princess.” he licks his teeth, shifting his weight from foot to foot. you look like a deer in the headlights, and he’s giddy at the rush that gives him. you’re finally in his grasp. “you’ve never been single. not since hmmm let’s see, march fifteenth, 2006.” he grins at you–”which makes all this dating real offensive, sweetheart.” 

you want to laugh, but decide against it considering his unpredictability. you shake your head instead, backing yourself to the wall. “what on earth are you talking about? we’re friends–”

“friends that fuck!” he laughs a strained snicker, straightening his posture. “and make sweet hot love, of course. friends that cuddle on the couch and have sleepovers. come on. we’re both adults, don’t insult me. you love me! which is great, because i love you too. i love you so much i’ve made sure that no one could steal you from me.” 

your brows must reach your hairline at that. “stop, satoru. don’t say that! you can’t mean it–fuck, you’re supposed to be married to a kamo or zen’in girl so you can keep making powerful gojo’s right? isn’t that what you always said in school?” 

“you’d give me powerful gojo’s.” he smirks, breaking the barrier of the bathroom’s threshold by stepping closer to you, leaning down to be on face level. “i was only trying to make you jealous sugar! just like this whole stunt you’ve been pullin’, dating around to try to find someone that makes you feel like i do? tch, hahahaha—it’s impossible!! just stop it, be mine and be happy like you should be.” he grasps your chin with a surprising gentleness given his unhinged and maniacal laughter, smiling down at you with something you recognize as his power-trip going off the rails—but. 

but you’d be lying if you said you were scared. he’s declaring his love for you in the most profound way possible, however crazy it–and he–may be. and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t absolutely see right through you. he has the six eyes after all, you should have known he knew what you were trying to do. you were trying to numb the pain of never being his…but you were actually manufacturing that whole scenario. you’re the only girl he’s ever seen, and it’s clear from the desperation mixed in with the insanity—he needs you. 

you reach back and flush the toilet, letting the little white pills circle the bowl and disappear entirely. satoru gojo has always been insane. you’ve seen it firsthand on many missions and battles against curses and sorcerers alike. it just surprised you to see him turn that look upon you–but now you know it was just to get your attention. 

though you don’t doubt what he’s capable of, you have no intention of pushing him to find out.

his eyes go from crazy to ravenous in seconds. you’ve accepted his proposal with hardly any effort and he intends to show you the difference between his sweet hookups and his passionate need to claim the woman of his dreams. 

“so you…scared off all those guys?” you ask, raising a brow as your face still rests in his clutches. he swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, nodding vigorously. 

“sure did, princess. i was trying to let you figure it out on your own…” he sighs, brushing your hair back behind your ears as his eyes scan over your body again. he needs to feel you. “but you’re not a quick learner, hence why i’m on plan b.” he winks, scooping you over his shoulder moments later. he puts you on your bed, the short walk made shorter by his teleportation. he’s just too impatient, brain swelling with the flashing images of you in traditional wedding attire and round with his heir. it all feels within reach now, and he has to try it out now. “gonna show you how bad i love you–you’ll never go anywhere else.” he mutters, lanky frame swallowing up your body, hips pinning yours to the bed beneath you. “you’re gonna give me a gojo and you’re gonna look so fucking good doing it.” he mutters, lips attaching to your neck reminiscent of the way they have a million times. though this time, there’s intention behind it—or well. this time you’re aware of the intention behind it. 

in all your times together, his dirty talk has been contained to praising your body and how good you feel to him. his incantations to knock you up has your heart beating funny and wetness pooling between your legs. you make a soft gasp sound for him, elongating your neck to let him leave real marks of possession where you’ve previously resisted. your body writhes and twists under his as his teeth knick and nip bruises into your skin. he’d spell his own name with them if he could, even a ring and a baby wasn’t enough in his eyes. he needs the world to know you’re his, that you’ll always be by his side, that you were born to be his. 

“that pesky birth control’s gonna have to wear off though–so we have time to get married before you get pregnant–if that matters to you.” he moans at the idea, hands sliding under your top to push it over your head. his mouth moves to suck the swells of your tits once they’re exposed to him, humming out his satisfaction at the warm skin. your head digs back into the mattress—mind absolutely drunk on his affection and devotion. it’s all you’ve ever wanted and now it’s right here, and from the man you’ve always wished you could have—how could you ever deny him again? 

your hands pull at the fabric on his back, hips bucking up for a source of friction. he breaks away from marking up your chest to bare his to you, throwing his t-shirt into some corner of your room to be forgotten about until tomorrow. this wouldn’t be your room much longer anyway–you’ll be moved into the estate within the next two days, he wouldn’t be able to live without you now. then he’s pushing you up towards the headboard, ripping off your lounge shorts to reveal those cute panties he knows you wear when you’re trying to impress him. color him fucking thrilled at your puffy pussy lips indenting the fabric around them, making him groan at the sight. he thumbs at your clit through the cotton, sparkling eyes flickering between the growing wet spot in your panties and the adorable scrunches of your nose and the pinch of your brow from the pleasure he’s dishing out before he’s even really touching you. you’re so cute he can’t pace himself, needing to consecrate your importance to him in the best way he knows how. 

you help him get you out of your underwear, shamelessly spreading for him after hundreds of rendezvous—you’ve lost your shyness and he loves it, loves seeing your neediness for him in the glaze of your pretty doe eyes and the way you swing your hips around to beg for his attention. “tell me you love me.” he hums, nosing apart your pussy lips. his cock throbs at the scent, and you feel goosebumps break out across your skin at his command. 

“you’re the one for me, sato. i love you.” you whisper so intimately he can feels his cursed energy pulsing like the rest of him. he groans, submerging his face in your cunt with a genuine pleasure you’ve only seen from him. he loves eating you out, loves the taste of you on his tongue—loves how your noises only rile him into fucking the bed, whining and grunting with his own neediness that he could only unleash once he’s properly readied you for it. 

“you taste so fucking good baby…so sweet down my throat. get loud, i don’t care it’s an apartment. you’ll be moving out soon anyway.” he smirks, latching onto your clit to make your legs jolt like they always do. it makes him giggle every time, and the vibrations feel even better against your sensitive bundle. he rolls it around his tongue, letting his index finger explore the wetness he’s helping you create. he pokes into your entrance, knowing how violently you craved something inside. his thoughts are confirmed by the way you clench around the digit, whining and bucking into it for more. he’s more than happy to oblige, finger fucking you with two long and thick fingers while his tongue works overtime on your clit. he loves watching you at this part, enamored by your face as your hips involuntarily jump from the bed, smacking your clit into his nose instead of his skilled tongue. 

your entire body is warm, jerking like you’re receiving electrical shocks from the pleasure satoru reigns down, gasping and sputtering on the edge of orgasm just a few minutes after he started. it’s always like this with him–though this time was special because you knew your life was changing before your very eyes—that satoru’s energy was growing so rapidly because he’s letting go of all kinds of stress and pent up frustration and anger. “please—wanna cum please sato–”

“daddy. i’m daddy now. ask daddy nicely.” he chuckles as he leans his head against his free hand, curling his fingers into the spot he knows so well just to watch your mouth drop and eyes widen in absolute blissful shock. you nod–brain fuzzy from his constant teasing and his new nickname. 

“daddy!! yes—daddy! please, oh my god—daddy let me cum!” you sound so good when you say it–it’s all he ever wants to hear for the rest of his life. he can’t wait for you to make him a real daddy. 

“oh missus gojo can do anything she wants.” he coos as if he didn’t make you expressly beg for permission, lowering his face to your cunt again with precise licks, shoving your hood back to absolutely abuse your sensitivity. your legs develop a mind of their own and you’re spiraling over the edge before you can understand what he’s doing. floating balls of color cover your vision and you scream his name just as loud as he wanted. he grins in satisfaction, hands resting on your knees so he can push himself forward for a sloppy kiss; slick covered lips sliding against yours so you could taste your own essence via his tongue shoving its way in your mouth with a hearty moan. you match his eagerness, making out with satoru with more passion than ever before–because you both have the security of knowing it’s real this time. he maneuvers his hips until his leaky tip catches on your hole, his breath shaky as before he shoves in like he always does. you squeeze him so tight it’s not hard to believe why he lost his fucking mind over this pussy. he truly would do anything to make you his, thank god you didn’t put up a fight. 

“fuuuuck–” he whines a little, finding it nearly impossible to even move in the first place. you feel the burn of his fat and lengthy shaft parting your walls like they routinely do, mouth dropped wide open in pleasure. satoru hovers inches away from your face, so close that the ends of his hair tickle your forehead as he picks your legs up—holding you by the back of the ankles before he sets a brutal pace. his nuts clap into your ass from the way he moves, length curving just right to fill you to the brim. he doesn’t even have to try all that hard to bottom out against your cervix, finding the way you moan and twitch so adorable. “this is why you have to be my wife—i need you for life, sweetheart.” 

your eyes widen at that declaration–though you already realized that satoru would never let you out of his clutches again. you knew he would marry you as quickly as possible based off of his desire to also knock you up as quickly as possible—but hearing him call you that, first missus gojo and now his wife, it all felt so real. his cock slamming into you only drilled it in further, his eyes glowing brighter than you’ve ever seen. the air also grows its own electric field, suffocating and thrilling all at the same time. your eyes are glued to him, entranced by the feral look on his face. you try to hold onto him, but he’s moving so punishingly you can’t even get your hands to work, mind and body on cloud nine. “you’re so beautiful. i’ve been in love…with—you–for years now.” he says in between deep breaths, trying to contain all his focus into drilling you unconscious. 

you shudder, feeling that was completely in the realm of possibility. his balls ache, the need to breed you just as heavy as all the other times you’ve come to him to clean up every mess of yours ever since he’s known you, the need to make you his in a way no one else would be allowed to—it’s carnal. he can’t stop until you’re full of his seed and it takes. he needs to see your breasts heavy with milk to feed his baby from. he needs to see you struggle with the weight of your belly so he can urge you to rest and let him serve you like you should be. he needs to see what the combination of your love looks like; what these last ten years of hard work would become. he’s painting your insides white and still pumping just as fast as before, watching your face tick and jerk with the pleasure you’re experiencing as you tip off of your own peak. he grins, shoving that cum as deep as it will go. he stops when he knows your body can’t take anymore, cuddling you to his chest until you fall asleep safe and sound. he has the whole world in his hands, and that’s never been enough. now he can sleep with a genuine smile on his face. he knows your body will regulate in a few months off the birth control—but that doesn’t mean he can’t get plenty of practice until then. after all, he has a problem! he has to breed his pretty little girl best friend turned future wife. 

[minswriting]

Head Empty, No Thoughts - Aaron Hotchner x Reader

About: You can’t focus properly because all you can think about is how much you desperately needed to be railed. Hotch, being the amazing boss that he is, helps his agent with quite enthusiasm.

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, boss/agent dynamics, soft!dom aaron, praise kink, fingering, oral (f), unprotected sex, doggy style, aaron’s an ass man what can i say? porn with no plot. not proof read because that’s lame

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Please make sure to reblog to support your content creators!! @nachrosas helped me with making sure this story is good lol. i hope you all enjoy! if you have any thoughts, feel free to send them in my inbox!

To say you’ve been having issues concentrating was an understatement. For the past few weeks, you’ve been going to work, trying your best to focus on cases, and yet, you could hardly concentrate on anything you’re meant to do. You simply follow orders and stay silent for the most part. It’s not that you didn’t want to work. You adored your job, even if it gets really hard sometimes. Your team is like your family, and you usually contribute to profiles and other parts of the case.

The issue was that it’s been months since you’ve had sex and it’s making you very grouchy and unable to think about anything else.

You craved to be touched, to be fucked so hard that you could cry from pleasure. Your last hookup, many months ago, hadn’t even been good. He didn’t make you cum once so you had to resort to using your fingers. And your fingers and toys can only do so much compared to being properly dicked down.

Currently, the team is on a case in Tampa, Florida. After a series of homicidal home invasions, you guys had been called to investigate. You tried your best to remain focused, drinking coffee, listening to Hotch giving orders, and hearing everyone give their ideas on the profile. And yet, you didn’t say anything. You didn’t give your perspective. You simply just listened with a neutral look on your face.

By the end of the night, when everyone had gone to the hotel to get some rest, Aaron had stopped you in the lobby to talk to you before you could go up to your assigned room. He put a hand on your arm, causing you to turn around to look at your boss. His brown eyes looked at you with concern despite his stoic facade. “Are you alright?” He asked softly, furrowing his eyebrows as he spoke.

You nodded your head, giving Aaron a small shrug. “Of course,” You replied. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You’ve been very quiet the past few weeks,” Aaron said, looking at you as though he were analyzing your every move, profiling you. “Tense, too.”

“Well, I think we’re all tense all of the time, Hotch,” You joked, trying to change the subject. Of course, Hotch would notice that you weren’t yourself. You work with a bunch of profilers, and while the others always try not to profile the team, Aaron was one who usually profiled the team to ensure mental stability out on the field. It was his job to make sure you were all doing alright. However, you didn’t particularly want to tell your boss that you’ve been so…distant from work simply because you need to get railed. That would be awkward and unprofessional.

Aaron quirked an eyebrow at you, noticing the obvious change in subject. “You’re not usually so quiet during cases. Your insights are valuable on this team, and if something is plaguing you about your position, I need to make sure you’re doing alright, Agent.”

“Hotch, I promise it’s nothing related to the job,” You sighed, tilting your head. “I’ve just been distracted and frustrated, but it’s due to personal matters.”

“Perhaps talking about what’s bothering you could make you feel better?” Aaron pointed out.

You shook your head no, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as you thought about the idea of telling your boss about your personal issue. “I-it’s not something I should talk about,” You cleared your throat. “Especially with you.”

Aaron looked at you with a look of confusion, noticing how your cheeks got red. “Especially with me?” He asked, eyebrows furrowed once more. “What do you mean?”

You groaned internally at yourself with a small grimace on your face due to embarrassment. You realized that Aaron wouldn’t relent. He would interrogate you until the answer came out. So you decided to say “fuck it” figuratively. “I haven’t had sex in months,” you said bluntly. “And it’s been all I can focus on. But I’ll figure it out and I apologize it’s been affecting my work. I’m going to go to my room now.” And with that, you turned around and quickly walked away, not waiting for your boss to respond.

When you had gotten to your room, you quickly opened the door and closed it behind yourself, throwing your bag to the side as you quickly went to bed, burying your face into the pillow and letting out a muffled scream. You took a deep breath before turning onto your back and looking up at the ceiling. To say you were officially embarrassed was an understatement. You were mortified. You had confessed to your attractive boss that you hadn’t had sex in a long while and that it was affecting the way you worked.

With a sigh, you got up from the bed and went to your go-bag, grabbing a lavender purple nightgown before going to the bathroom and taking a shower. And once you had gotten settled into bed, reading a book, there was a sudden knock on your hotel room door. You checked the time, noticing how it was after midnight.

You closed your book, putting it onto the nightstand before getting out of bed. You smoothed out your nightgown before walking over to the door. You opened the door a crack, just to see who was standing there. Aaron stood there, still dressed in his suit but without the jacket. You opened the door all of the way. You immediately blushed as the embarrassment came rushing back. “Hi,” You said quietly, feeling exposed as you were only wearing your nightgown while Aaron was still in his work clothes.

“Can I come in?” He asked, looking at you with a look that you can’t quite place. You didn’t say anything as you stepped to the side, allowing Aaron to walk in. You closed the door behind him, biting your lip in nervousness. You turned to look at Hotch, not saying anything as he looked at you. He not-so-subtly looked you up and down before meeting your eyes. “You’ve been frustrated,” was all he said.

You nodded your head, heart pounding in your chest. “I have,” you said hoarsely.

He paused for a moment, as though he were thinking of what to say next. “You know,” he began. “If there’s an issue with one of the members of my team, it’s my duty to find a solution.”

“What do you mean?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “This isn’t something for you to find a solution to.”

Aaron let out a sigh, a break in his usual stoic demeanor. Being outright with himself was hard as he usually hid his emotions and thoughts from those around him. “I’m saying that I can help you,” he exclaimed, taking a step towards you.

“What?” You asked, still clearly confused but you had an inkling of what this was about. As Aaron got closer, you stayed put.

And when he reached you, he tentatively put a hand on your cheek, running his thumb across your skin. “I can help you,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched at Aaron’s touch. You felt dazed as you looked into his brown eyes. “Hotch-“ you whispered, not quite knowing what else to say. You couldn’t help but glance down at his lips, fighting the urge to just lean in and kiss him. Your gaze moved back to his eyes.

“What sort of boss would I be if I allowed my best agent to wallow in her frustration?” He asked huskily, leaning in, his breath fanning over your face. All you could smell was Aaron’s cologne and the faint smell of whiskey. And without waiting for your response, Aaron’s lips were on yours, kissing you tentatively as if he were afraid you’d pull away. But when you made a soft noise and kissed Aaron back, he deepened the kiss, moving his other hand to your waist and pulling you closer to him.

You didn’t quite know what to do with yourself other than to kiss Aaron. You couldn’t deny the obvious attraction you felt for your boss. You had kept it a secret, not wanting to ruin the professionalism that had been built between the two of you. But now, as Aaron’s chapped lips moved against your soft ones, you could hardly find yourself to care. Especially when it has been far too long since you’ve done anything.

Aaron’s hand moved from your hip to the bottom of your nightgown, lifting it up a bit. After a few minutes of kissing one another deeply, Aaron pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours. “Tell me to stop at any point,” he whispered.

“Please don’t stop.” You whispered back.

And without any hesitation, Aaron kissed you again. His tongue licked your bottom lip and you graciously parted your lips for him, allowing him to explore your mouth with his tongue. His hand went underneath your nightgown, slowly trailing upwards. Your breath hitched when his fingers reached the waistband of your panties. He pulled away from the kiss, moving to kiss your jawline and neck as his fingers slipped underneath the waistband.

His middle finger touched your slit, feeling the wetness that had pooled. You gasped at the feeling, bringing your hands to Aaron’s shoulders. “You’re so wet,” he said against your skin, trailing his finger from your hole to your clit before he began to gently rub circles against the nub.

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut. Aaron moved his head so he could look at you. He continued to rub soft circles with his middle finger before dipping it into your hole, gently inserting the digit. The way your body jolted at the intrusion made Aaron chuckle breathily. He began moving his finger in and out of you at a teasingly slow pace, getting you used to the feeling. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

You opened your eyes to look at Aaron, who was already looking at you. Your lips were parted as he gently moved his finger. And after a few moments, he added a second one, immediately curling his fingers. You let out a choked moan, maintaining eye contact with Aaron, as you held onto him. You felt drunk on lust, finally getting pleasured by someone other than yourself. “A-Aaron,” you moaned, breathing heavily.

“Beautiful girl,” he said, his thumb tracing your cheekbone. “Does it feel good?” He asked as his fingers moved at a slow pace inside of you, hitting your g-spot with each movement.

You nodded your head.

“Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” He said with a small smirk on his lips as he moved his fingers inside of you faster.

A shiver went down your back at the praise, an action that didn’t go unmissed by Aaron’s eyes. You began moaning louder, feeling that familiar heat building inside of you as Aaron’s digits moved with purpose. “I-I’m so close,” you whined.

Aaron hummed, keeping the pace. “Go ahead, baby, let go for me,” he said breathily.

And with a few more pumps of his fingers, you came, legs shaking as you tried to hold yourself up as you came undone on his fingers. Aaron’s free arm immediately moved to wrap around your waist, holding you upright. You threw your head back, whining with pleasure. When you finished you opened your eyes, looking at Aaron as you breathed heavily.

He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, bringing the digits to his mouth and sucking on them until they were clean. He moaned at the taste, the sounding sending sparks down to your pussy.

You couldn’t help yourself from looking down, seeing the bulge in Aaron’s pants. He looked so painfully hard and you wanted to help him just as he was helping you. You brought your hand to his bulge but before you could touch it, Aaron grabbed your hand. “Not yet,” he said, licking his lips. “Tonight’s about you.” And with that, he gently pushed you over to the mattress, making you sit on the edge.

You watched as Aaron got on his knees in front of you, looking up at you with his chocolate brown eyes. He lifted your nightgown just enough to reveal your panties. He put his fingers on the waistband, pulling them down and off of you. “I need to taste you, baby,” Aaron said, licking his lips as your bare cunt was revealed to him. “Is that alright?”

“Y-yes,” you whispered, looking at him with anticipation.

“Good girl,” he hummed before spreading your legs, burying his head between your thighs as he dived right in. His tongue licked a stripe on your pussy.

You immediately whined, eyes fluttering shut as Aaron’s tongue began to lap around your pussy. He circled your clit before putting his lips on the nub and sucking gently. “O-oh fuck,” you moaned as you entangled a hand in his hair, tugging at his locks. Aaron let out a groan against your cunt, sending vibrations through it. “Feels so good, Aaron,” you whined, throwing your head back in pleasure.

What was at first gentle quickly turned into Aaron eating you out like a starved man as he quickly got addicted to the taste of your pussy. He sucked on your clit, lapped his tongue around your cunt, dipped his tongue into your hole as his nose rubbed against your clit. He was messy with it in the best way possible.

It didn’t take long until you came for a second time that night, clenching your thighs around Aaron’s head as you arched your back and tugged at his hair, moaning his name so loudly that you were sure anyone sleeping in the room next to yours could hear.

And when you came down from your high, you relaxed against the mattress, allowing your back to fall onto the soft fabric. You breathed heavily, your chest moving up and down. Aaron pulled away from your cunt, his face absolutely covered in your juices. “You alright?” he asked, licking his lips.

You nodded your head, looking at Aaron with a small lazy smile. “So good,” you giggled gently.

Aaron chuckled, unbuttoning his shirt. “We aren’t done yet, baby,” he exclaimed, tossing his dress shirt to the side before undoing the belt of his pants. “If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly.”

You bit your lip as you watched Aaron undress. He was so fit and toned. You watched in anticipation as he tossed his belt to the side before unzipping his pants. He pulled them down along with his boxers, his cock slapping against his stomach. He was so hard, his cock red and leaking with precum. You couldn’t help the whimper that left your lips as you looked at it because he was hung, to say the least. “You’re so big,” you whispered in fascination. “Will it fit?” You’ve never had sex with anyone as big and thick as Aaron.

“You flatter me,” Aaron exclaimed, a teasing smile on his lips. He gave himself a few tugs before walking over to you. “We’ll make it fit.” He said simply. “On your hands and knees.” He commanded.

And you obliged without hesitation. You turned yourself so that you were on your hands and knees, your ass in the air. You felt a light smack on your ass, sending tingles down your spine. “God, you’re beautiful,” Aaron said as he massaged the flesh of your ass.

He then grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to him before lining his cock to your pussy. He teased himself and you, spreading your wetness along his tip, causing him to hiss in pleasure and for you to let out a whimper.

He then lined himself to your entrance, slowly easing his cock inside of you. You whimpered again, this time louder as Aaron stretched you. The slight pain you felt was worth it as you were finally being filled for the first time in months. And then Aaron bottomed out, you felt him pressing so deeply inside of you in a way you had never felt before.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Aaron groaned, keeping himself still.

“You’re so fucking big,” you whined in response. Both of you stayed still for a bit, allowing you time to adjust. And when the sting subsided, you let out a breath. “You can move.”

Aaron gently pulled his hips back before slamming into you again. He was slow with it but hard, making you really feel his cock inside of you. You yelped in pleasure, eyes closing. Aaron had one hand on your hip, the other on your right buttcheek as he thrusted into you at a slow pace.

“F-faster.”

“Say please.” Aaron replied, keeping the slow pace.

“Faster, please,” your voice hitched as Aaron pressed himself deep inside of you again.

“Good girl,” He said before moving his hips faster. His cock began hitting your g-spot deadass, causing you to moan much louder than before.

“O-oh my,” you moaned. You stopped holding yourself up with your arms, allowing your head to fall forward onto the sheets as your hands gripped them. Aaron’s pace was brutal as he very much did not hold himself back. This is exactly what you meant by needing to be railed. “So good!” Your voice was muffled from the sheets.

“You feel so good, my pretty girl,” Aaron groaned, watching the way your ass bounced with the harshness of his thrusts. He smacked it again, this time harder than before.

You whined in response, pressing yourself against Aaron as you began meeting his thrusts with your own movements. Your nightgown was ridden up to your chest, the straps falling from your shoulders.

“Fuck,” Aaron groaned, tilting his head back as he fucked you. You were so wet and tight around his cock. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to last long. He swallowed, moving back to look at you. You were absolutely gorgeous in the position you were in.

The whole scene was quite obscene and pornographic. Your ass was up, your back arched as your head was buried in the mattress. The sounds of your moans filled the air along with the loud smacking of skin hitting skin. Not to mention the fact that your pussy was so wet that you could hear the noises of it with every thrust of Aaron’s cock.

You felt that burn building once more as Aaron’s cock moved inside of you. Your eyes were rolled back from the pleasure as he fucked you so good. “I-I’m so close,” you mewled, your walls clenching around Aaron’s length.

“Ah,” Aaron groaned. “Be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” He said, putting both hands on your hips as he drilled himself into you. “My beautiful girl,” he said with each thrust.

When your orgasm hit, it hit you hard. You came with a choked sobbing moan that you were sure other people on the floor definitely heard. Your legs shook aggressively as you clenched tightly around Aaron’s length, moaning his name repeatedly. Aaron fucked you through your orgasm, keeping up his brutal pace as he chased his own high. With a loud groan and moan of your name, Aaron pressed himself deep inside of you as he came, spilling his seed.

And when he finished, he pulled out and you both collapsed on the mattress, Aaron lying down next to you. Neither of you spoke as you breathed heavily, basking in the post-orgasmic feeling. After a few minutes, when your breathing finally caught, you lifted your head to look at Aaron, who was already looking at you, and you both couldn’t help the small chuckles that left your lips as Aaron pulled you into his arms, holding you close.

The next morning, when everyone had met at the station to continue working on the case, you were much more like yourself. You were more focused, engaged with the team, giving your input on the profile. Everyone just assumed you had slept well. But every time you glanced at Hotch, there was a subtle exchange of thoughts as you both would briefly recall the previous night. A quiet agreement that you both would seek one another out for relief.

Because what kind of agent would you be if you couldn’t ease your boss’s stress?