#this is his reaction after giving him a small compliment/job well done

[motherstone]

satisfied

[itsgaga]

Paprazzi

“Y/N over here” 

“Nikki”

“Come on Y/N can I get a smile from you”

The flashing lights never stopped, every time your eyes would try to adjust, another storm of flaring lights would blind you. When you and Nikki first got together you were able to deal with the paparazzi, some were actually quite nice and would only ask for a picture or two and then leave you alone, some were more determined to get as many pictures as they could but still they were never rude ;however, as time went on their attention and actions shifted. They once were only focused on yours and Nikki’s relationship but recently they started following you even when Nikki wasn’t there. Their words changed, they once would compliment you, tell Nikki how lucky he was, and would have nice small talk with you, but now, they want to know where you’re going, who with, and for long, insults can be heard when they’re around, they run after you, and follow you in cars, and will sneak around regardless of where you are. 

Today was supposed to be just a normal day, you and Nikki had gone out to get away from the spotlight, the plan was to just go and sit in a cafe hours away from your guys’ home in a small town hoping no one would recongize either of you so you guys could get away from the camera and spend a day without the stress that comes along with being famous ;however, as soon as you guys pulled into the parking lot men with cameras came jumping out of their blacked out cars, all running torwards your direction.

You looked at Nikki, who was looking at the crowd. “Shit” Nikki put the car in reverse but before he could take his foot off the brake the car is surrounded from every angle. Loud screams were coming from outside the car. “Y/N and Nikki” “Y/N and Nikki” “Y/N and Nikki” that’s all you heard, over and over again.

It was never ending, minutes had passed and Nikki had given up, he’s sitting in the front seat with his head resting on the back and his hands covering his face.  The men were clearly getting frustrated and changed their approach to getting what they wanted.

“Nikki, how good is Y/N? You think you’d ever give me a chance to find out”

Nikki removed his hands from his face and looked outside the car.

“Hey man, don’t start”

A guy standing outside your window speaks up.

“Well, if she’s gonna dress like a whore she’s gonna be treated like a whore.”

Nikki was mad, his emotions were all over his face, you could tell he wanted to say something. “Nikki don’t, they just want a reaction” Nikki looked at you then looked down. “We need to leave.” Before you could tell Nikki theres no way to get out, Nikki once again put the car in reverse and began backing up.

Loud shouts from the back of the car were yelling at him to stop, Nikki rolled down his window and told them to get out of the way. Again, the man from your side speaks up.

“Hey Nik, are those things real on her?”

Nikki ignored him.

“I think fake tits look like shit.”

Again, he ignored him.

It wasn’t until the man just flat out called you a whore when Nikki finally snapped and swung the car door open, the man saw Nikki and tried to calm him down.

“Hey, no no Nikki it’s just my job, i’m just doing this for money, I didn’t mean it man, seriously.”

Within seconds Nikki was threatening to beat his ass, there was pushing and shoving and screaming with flashes from the camera. You were done, you wanted to leave, with numerous insults and what felt like thousands of photos being taken, you were just done.

Rolling down the window you yell for Nikki multiple times, he made his way back to the car, clearly still pissed off and got in immediately driving off. “I can’t believe it, I can’t fucking believe it.”  Nikki sighed and looked at you.

“Are you alright, babe.”

You just look at Nikki, give a soft smile, grab his hand, and look out the window. The car ride back was quiet, except for the occasional whispers coming from Nikki, complaining about the paparazzi and muttering a bunch of threats.

He squeezes your hand causing you to look at him “I’m just saying I would’ve beaten his ass if you would’ve let me”. You roll your eyes and smile. “I know babe” Nikki looks at you.

“I’m being serious”

“I know you are”

“Really? Cause I feel like you don’t believe me”

You and Nikki continue back and forth the entire car ride home, completely forgetting about everything that just happened. Realizing only then that you two didn’t need to drive hours away to go somewhere to feel some sort of peace and forget about everything else going on in your lives, the entire time the two of you could’ve just found peace in each other.

Bro. I hate the ending. With a passion. I rewrote it about 7 times. I didnt wanna give up. But i’m tired. Ready for a nap. So enjoy.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 9: Off-Limits

Had an idea in mind for this one, then @soupdweller pretty much solidified it for me with this piece of art. Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1868

Content warning: non graphic depicitions of death, obsessive behavior if you squint really really hard, reader discresion is advised

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

You wish you were taller. Maybe not super tall, and certainly not eight or nine feet tall, but a couple inches you think would be nice. A couple inches could potentially make you feel a bit less, small, in this situation. 

The Daycare Attendant looms over you, that cartoonish grin and dead eyes certainly not helping your nerve. You swallow. You were not going to let him intimidate you, you were not going to let him intimidate you-

"Friend."

"Sun," Your voice is more squeaky than you'd ever like it to be, you clear your throat, "Can I get past you, please?"

His rays click sharply to one side, "I'm afraid not. This area is off-limits."

"I, understand that, but it's also my job as a guard to check that everything is in order-"

He moves suddenly, bending down so that your faces are now inches apart, he tilts his head, "Off. Limits."

You have it in you to get a little annoyed then. You don't really know the Attendant all that well, and from what you've heard from other staff he's usually pretty friendly and even a bit, oblivious. 

This was not that. 

From the moment you'd met he'd been off-putting, a little creepy, and in a way, hostile to you and everything you did. You almost wondered if it was a work hours vs after hours thing, but whenever anyone else was around he had that chipper persona. It was just with you that there was a problem. 

"What's in there that's such an issue?" You ask, trying to peer around him, ignoring the way his 'pupils' seem to shift and watch you, "Last I checked the Plex doesn't have any big secrets. Not any that I as a guard wouldn't know about at least."

It's hard to tell what's back there, mainly because of the near blinding light coming from the doorway to contrast with the darkened space you're currently standing in. And from what you remember, it was all just storage space. One of the bigger ones to your understanding. Actually, how'd the Attendant even get over here? You don't remember there being another entrance to this location. And furthermore, why is he-

"That," He puts a hand on your shoulder, "Is not," You're shoved backward, "Your concern."

Okay, now you're irritated, "For the last time, this is my job. Last I checked, you're the Daycare Attendant, and I'm the security guard. So, you can either move out of my way, or I make you move."

Sun stands upright again, clasping his hands in front of him, "You can try."

"Why do you even care? Why are you even over here?" You point your finger at him now, "You know, you've been honestly kind of a jerk to me since I started, and I'm kind of sick of it. I've never done anything to you!"

A click. You continue. 

"I have tried to be nothing but kind and considerate, I don't stay in your space too long, I wave when I see you, I compliment your art and yet you've been nothing but cold, impassive, and downright rude."

The Attendant is stock still and frankly, you don't care.

"What did I do to deserve this, huh? What made you decide I was going to be the target of your just, straight vitriol toward me?" You throw your hands up, then slap them against your legs. 

Your breathing is heavy now. But at least you've said your peace. 

It's then that the bot laughs, not the reaction you were expecting. For some reason, it sends a chill down your spine.

He takes a step closer, then another. It gives you an idea as he once more bends down to your level. 

"What you've done?" Several rapid clicks of his rays turning to the right, "You want to know what you've done-"

You quickly sidestep him, darting inside, "Maybe some other time! Let's say after my patrol, how's that?"

He makes a loud sound then, which you take as merely mild frustration. Something that in hindsight, was a mistake on your part. You snickered, served him right. You were just trying to do your job.

The storage room was a lot bigger than you were expecting. Grander. Many aisles of boxes piled to the high ceiling on either side of you, along the backwall, and is that a connecting room behind? Geez, why is this area not patrolled more often? Seems like there's a lot of stuff to grab, regardless of there seeming to just be the one entrance. 

You think you've lost Sun, for now anyway. If he catches up to you again it's not like he can do anything except complain. The thought instantly peeves you. 

You're nearing one of the back corners of this front room now, deciding to radio back to the main office, "Hey, working on the last bit of my route, there a reason we don't check this storage room more routinely?"

"We don't.... manpower.... -eople have... -ssing. Wasn't supposed... -your route. -ou should probably-.... -here." Is the response you receive.

You frown, speaking into the device again, "Hey, you're cutting out super bad, could you repeat that?"

All you get is more garbled static as a response. You shrug it off. Must be a dead zone near this room. Annoying, but that's life.

There's a smell in here, you're realizing. And it's not dust, even though there's quite a lot of that. It's decay. 

And the closer you get to that back corner, the stronger is gets. 

Now, a normal person would say fuck it, and call a custodian to deal with whatever poor animal had gotten in here and died. And maybe on a different night, you would have done that. But for some reason, that wasn't the decision you were going to make for tonight.

You round the corner and find-nothing. Just some more boxes. But god that smell is strong now. You're getting ready to turn around and high tail it out of there, when you notice that there's something sticking out from the corner, between where the boxes on either wall collide. 

You don't need to get a closer look to confirm what it is, but you do. 

You can only stare on in complete and utter disbelief. 

Yup. That is indeed a shoe. Attached to a foot, attached to a dead body-a dead security guard's body-which you're 99% sure is what you were smelling. 

The surprising part of all this was exactly how many dead bodies were stuffed into that corner. All in various states of decay. 

"I warned you."

You jump, whipping around to find Sun staring at you. Somehow, the blank look in his eyes is more unreadable than ever before. You swear there's like, a shimmer to optics. Kind of, purplish. But your eyes are probably playing tricks on you.

Your instant reaction is to pray, but you think it's a little late for that. Your second reaction is to beg. 

Your voice wavers as you speak, hands up defensively, "Pl-please don't, don't, hurt me..."

"Hurt you? Oh no no no, sweet thing. I'd never want to hurt you," Sun tuts, his words have a softness you've never witnessed before, "I'll admit I haven't done the best job of showing it, but I do care."

In your shock of it all, you can just stand there, fear dissipating just slightly while blinking a few times, "Excuse me?"

He goes off on his own little tangent, starting to pace as he speaks more to himself than to you, "Believe me, coming to terms with the idea that you of all people would catch my interest wasn't, easy, but I think I've been dealing with it to the best of my ability," He turns to you, hands together, "And now, you've made this entire process that much simpler!"

"...Simpler how?" You're still processing the dead people thing; you aren't even comprehending the idea that Sun likes you. 

"Well, now we can so spend time catching you up to speed," Sun tilts his head, tone eerily cheering as his eyes lift into crescents, "You didn't think you could leave now, did you?"

You bolt.

You try to remember how you got back here, which ways to turn to get back to the front. Given you're kind of freaking out right now, it's not easy.

Sun's behind you, somewhere. Sure you can hear him; those bells were loud on top of the mechanical clinks and whirls his limbs emit as he follows after you. The problem is that he's eight feet tall and you can only run so damn fast. 

You find the entrance. The door's shut.

"Shit. Shit, come on," You fumble for your keycard, shaking hands swiping it through the card reader. 

"Access denied. Access denied. Access denied."

You hear Sun a few aisles over, "Ah, ah, ah. Leaving so soon? After you worked so hard to get in here?"

You curse under your breath as he continues.

"And really, to not bother to listen after I told you to stay is really, quite, rude," From the sounds of it, he's now where you just were, and seemed to be expecting you to still be trying to get out, having the gull to be annoyed about it, "Well there goes that dramatic reveal."

You don't know where you're running but you realize you're going to need to find a destination soon, because you're going to eventually run out of stamina. And Sun will not. 

A hiding place. You need a hiding place. 

"I put in a lot of effort to keep this from you, Starshine," Sun says to the empty space, "Spare you from this thing, that I've become."

There is nowhere to hide in here. It's just the same repeating rows over and over again. Could you maybe circle back? Start climbing? Just something-

"It's not a willing participation, you know. If you understood how this f̴͉̲̲̳̐̑̈́̍̀eė̴̘̽̋l̴͍̣͎̙͎̉̃ṣ̶̪̀, maybe you'd be a bit more sympathetic. Though I suppose that's a big ask."

You need to quiet your breathing, collect yourself a bit. Find another option.

You swallow, trying to calm down as you rest back against the cardboard. It sort of works. 

Until you become acutely aware of the fact that Sun is now silent. 

You strain your ears, eyes flicking back and forth to either end of the aisle. You're closer to the one on your left than the right, but you wonder if it'd be worth the risk to dash to the other side. 

Unfortunately, you don't get the chance.

You take a step away from the makeshift wall, only able to react after the fact as Sun comes from around the corner, the surprise of seeing him making your trip backwards as you spin to face him. 

He catches you, and you notice that the ribbons which usually wrap around his wrists are missing. He tricked you.

"Caught you friend~" He chuckles lightly at the joke. 

You can only look up at him with fear. His pupils are purple, you're sure of it now. He leans in, rays spinning. 

"Maybe next time you'll listen when I say something is off-limits."

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Since y'all liked reading the notes I write for Confused Spirit, here's the one I wrote for this lmao:

You can read the others here, sorry for being late with this! As you can see, she was a biggin'. Thanks for reading!

[shatcey]

Kate's insults +

I find it quite hilarious and even see the meaning behind it.

After first night together

Before disappearing (after drinking tea together)

After second night together

And one scene from the romantic Blind Love epilogue. Without context.

Did you notice?

The first… she constantly adds compliments between insults. Charming, attractive, pervert. Okay, okay, it's a compliment to the one who accepts it, so it's a compliment. If anyone calls me weird, I'll be happy, I like being weird.

Secondly… she used more and more words.

And the last thing. In the last scene, he genuinely enjoys it.

How I can explain it

At first, she didn't know anything about him and used only the basic words: worst and terrible. But the more time they spend together, the more information she learns about him, and the insults become personal. A womanizer, a liar.

And that's not all. If you don't really like a person, you won't react so strongly to their words and actions. Thus, the more she is interested in him, the more she cares about him, the more emotional she becomes. She insults not only him, but herself as well, because she can't stop loving him despite everything. I really like it.

And about Ally

After the first night, he was pretty calm. She slapped him, but he didn't even react to it. He praises her for finally acting normal, because that's the only reason he pissed her off in the first place, to make her forget. And as soon as he realized that his job was done, he left.

After the second night they spent together, he stayed with her longer, and he already more interested to listen to her thoughts. But… he's still playing with her, teasing her, but he doesn't seem to enjoy it. It's still for her good, not for him.

But in the last scene… his reaction is absolutely sincere. He really likes everything about her, he doesn't care if she's angry or happy, everything is fine, because it's her, her emotions, and they are important to him. Every single one of them.

I'm really glad the devs added this little detail. It's such a small thing that you only notice it if you look really closely. But it gives a lot of additional information. Maybe just for me.

This is just my purely personal and extremely biased opinion. After all, I'm head over heels in love with this guy. You have every right to disagree with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[lalasworld2x]

Brahms x Reader Headcanons

This takes place after you find out he’s a grown man lol (but you don’t kill him of course)

• There aren’t any romantic feelings at first just because you’re still interested in Malcom, but you can decide if you guys have a falling out or if you just lose interest lol.

• It might take a bit to convince him to do house chores as well, as he’s lived his whole life in the walls and just has the mindset of “people have always done it for me, why stop now??”

• If you ever get mad at him, he’d probably try and finish all the house tasks before you get a chance to just so there’s now a reason for you to not be mad at him.

• He still likes to stay in the walls quite often, like a safe space for him.

• At the start, he used to get really overwhelmed by being out for so long, so you’d sit and comfort him for as long as possible. This just made him fall for you harder.

• He loves to cuddle in bed. He’s been touch starved so long, he just wants a warm bed and a warm embrace for hours on end ☹️💔

• Sometimes the closeness is never enough for him, like he just needs to be as close to you as possible. It’s not enough until he is literally molding into you, like angler fish lmao. If this makes you uncomfortable, he will back off but it will be a bit hard for him.

• He can definitely be demanding and sometimes very selfish, you may unfortunately have to still treat him like a child. I bet naughty corners would still work tbh… make sure you set clear boundaries and speak up for yourself.

• Although it’s definitely understandable if you were afraid to stand up for yourself, we already know he’s willing to hurt you and those that you love just to make sure you’d stick around.. I’m not gonna lie, it would actually probably be helpful to learn at least a bit of self defence in case he ever does try to put his hands on you. I’m sure even being strong enough to hold him in a head lock would scare him enough to back off and respect you more.

• This man does not gaf about body types or anything, he loves em all! Lean, muscular, chunky, curvy, slender, average- anything and he loves it!! He just wants someone to take care of him

• His immune system would probably be on the border of decent and not very good. He’s lived his life in the walls which is certainly not clean and nurturing space, but he also hasn’t really gotten out enough to get sick or hurt himself. Obviously he had a life before being forced into hiding, but he did spend like a decade tucked away. Would probably help you to get him vaccinated lol. ANYWAYS my point is, he might get sick fairly often, especially if you do actually start bringing friends and family over and you get to have an actual job. He would LOVE to have you coddle him. Tuck him right into bed, make him hot soup, coo over him, etc.

• Just because you would hate to be stuck at home with him all day I’m sure, you set some boundaries and convince him that he will be okay if you apply for jobs or go out to get materials and such for your own job if you work from home. And you should absolutely have the right to bring friends and family over now that he’s no longer a doll. This might upset him for a while, but you both come up with ways to make this arrangement comfortable for you.

• He compliments you all the time. You makeup, outfit, hair, posture, ideas, expression, the way you look when stretching or exercising, your interests- anything and everything!

• He will make small crafts for you as gift, mostly paper. He may even learn some origami for you with a book he found. He’s a bit shy when gift giving so he’ll leave it in a spot he knows you will find it and go somewhere else to hide and watch your reaction.

• He might be a bit shy to try new foods, but if he knows that you really enjoy them, it might encourage him a bit. He would love to indulge in your own culture more, so he would be less timid about trying traditional foods from your cultural background!

———————-

I know this one is kinda shit, I was struggling to think of things that I haven’t already seen other creators write before and I did NOT want to steal peoples ideas 😭😭

Masterlist

[animeyanderelover]

Hey! Im glad i managed to wake up early in the end! Here are my two requests and thank you so much for your great writing!

1. Yanderes of your choice (the ones who wear masks/cover their faces or are just insecure about their appearances in general) with a darling who always compliments their face, saying they look amazing and that they love all of them/the first time they see the yans face their reaction is to get all :OOOO and compliment it

2. yanderes of your choice with a minor deity reader, who doesn't have the same perception of boundaries as a normal person does plus is just happy they have a follower at least.....?

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, clinginess, manipulation

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz

Minor Deity s/o

Ash Landers

▫️​You may not be known very well as other deities are but with Ash you pretty much already have the most devoted and loyal follower one could ask for. Yet the fact that you were forgotten seems to affect him much more than it has affected you ever as he is in utter grief and sorrow when he finds out about it. Deities are supposed to be worshipped and treated with reverence yet humans truly seem to have forgotten how to pay respect and he is determined to see it through that your name will be called in prayers once again. After he has purified London, that is. With his darling being a literal deity though, Ash feels immense pressure to see it through that everything will be perfect for you. He lets churches and temples be build in your name and starts searching for humans he thinks would be worthy enough of worshipping you as he is basically planning to collect a cult for you. Your obvious clinginess is constantly overwhelming him though as he doesn't see himself as worthy for being touched by a deity like this, especially since he hasn't done anything to deserve it.

Juvia Lockser

💧​Juvia is constantly swooning over pretty much everything you do as her obsessive tendencies only increase as she figures out that you are an actual deity. You are literally perfect in her eyes. She spends days and weeks crafting a small shrine for you where she always leaves flowers, pastries or anything else for you as a sign of her adoration and love. She has a rather strange relationship with the idea of collecting other followers for you though. On the one hand she wants people to notice you because you are the most perfect and beautiful being as the mere thought that no one has ever been a follower of yours angers her greatly. On the other hand she also doesn't want to lose all the attention and affection she gets solely because she is the only one who calls herself a follower of yours now. You are very clingy with little to no perception of boundaries but since Juvia is exactly the same, this is just utterly perfect for her. The idea of you giving such attention to other people if they would start believing in you is a big cause of her jealousy as she would like to remain as someone special to you even if you should collect more followers.

Yato

🪙​Both of you share very similar struggles yet Yato shows much more concern for you as a deity will disappear if no human remembers them so he is very desperate to get you more followers. He starts with Hiyori as he asks her to not forget you for her entire life and to remember you and she really goes all out of her way to build you a small shrine similar to the one she has crafted for Yato. Otherwise Yato literally goes around with Yukine to fulfill his jobs whilst trying to advertise for you. Whilst you don't show any panic or fear due to having so only Hiyori as a human who believes in you as of now, he still feels like he has to do everything he can to cheer you up to keep you happy. He has very good intentions but at times he can go a bit too far by literally wracking some damage to induce humans with the belief that it was the work of you just to get their attention on you. Hiyori and you are ususally quick to scold him for it as you don't want to be remembered as a deity who harms other people. Yato happily indulges in your clinginess though because he can be quite touchy himself but he does get jealous quickly when you show similar amounts of affection to Yukine and Hiyori.

[racoonpookiedepartment]

My “Kinktober” day 3

Chris’s Accident (hands + uniform)

Chris Redfield was a soldier working for the BSAA, while he was an extremely strong soldier, he was also very angry almost all the time.

it was easy for him to quickly get frustrated, you were his assigned (Male) nurse and you saw him in every emotion there was

You've seen him when he was upset, when he was angry, when he was sad, when he was confused and mostly when he was in heat, you'd always know because of the puppy eyes he'd give you at certain positions

Besides that he would always make sly flirty comments about how he loved seeing you in your uniform and whenever you had to be handsy, he always complimented your hands. He would go on and on about how soft they were and how much he liked when you touched him.

Chris was very simple, for almost any problem he had, he would vent to you about things that upset him and even when he was angry. It was just being close friends with him. but to him it meant much more, you didn't realize it until you started to see how he was reacting recently.

he started to come in for the smallest of injuries, even coming just for "check up" you got the feeling that he did it on purpose because he knew you'd have to touch him all over to find his “injury”

he came in again for a small injury and you knew you were about to get a wild story from how he walked in, his face was already red with anger. He came into the room and closed the door behind him. You listened to him rant and you patch up some scrape he got, and after he was done you asked if he had anything else that needed to be checked. He had a bad fall and wanted you to check his thigh for a bruise.

as he stood up and you kneeled to unbuckled his pants, you glanced upwards and Chris looked away with red cheeks. you pulled down his pants and even as he was soft there was a large bulge in his boxers, you had to stay professional so you didn't comment on it

"ok this might sting" you warn, you gently rub up and down his left leg, he had no reaction. you switch over to the right side and he grunts when your hand passes over his right thigh

"fuck, be gentle would you?" he suggested,

"i did tell you it might sting" you reply, you grab some solution and take some of it into your hand

"this will be cold, but you'll feel better ok?" you warn, chris nods

"Just go slow ok?" he asks, you nod in agreement and slowly rub the sore spot on his thigh, you expected him to curse and maybe even grip onto something but, he reacted much differently. he grunted, but not the pain kind, the gratifying kind

"dont stop.. fuck" he muttered under his breath

"Feeling better already?" you ask sarcastically

"much...better" he replied breathily, you couldn't not notice but he was getting hard, you were inches away from his crotch afterall. he looked down when he noticed that you noticed his boner, he quickly put his hands over it and turned out of embarrassment

"s- sorry, i didn't mean to do that" he muttered

"its fine, not the first time that's happened" you reassured, he turned back when you said that though

"Wait really? who?" he asked, you didn't expect him to get possesive about that

"well, half the people that come through here" you reply, chris turned back around

"so.. you don't mind?" he asks

"not at all" you state, you realized you were still on your knees and changed your position

"can i ask you something then?" he questioned

"Sure, what is it?" you reply, you got seated in your chair and chris on the examining bed. a few seconds passed before he spoke again, he twiddled his fingers and took a breathe before asking

"am i.. am i the biggest?" he asked, the question caught you off guard you even choked on your drink

"I'm sorry, the biggest what?" you asked

"am i the biggest bulge you've seen?" he asked, you were thinking of how to professionally answer the question without losing your job

"Well, i can't accurately comment on your.. size, since it's only a bulge" you reply

"want to see it accurately then?" he asked with a smirk, unfortunately while on the clock you have to decline.

"i.. How about we finish helping your thigh, we can continue this conversation another time" you state firmly, Chris sighs in disappointment and stands back up. you go back to rubbing the cold solution on his thigh and him grunting at the feeling, this time you notice a wet spot growing at the height of the bulge and chris was shuddering slightly, you stopped rubbing on the solution and just looked up at chris, his eyes were wide shut like he was concentrating.

"Chris?" you called, you were thinking off a few reasons why he was shuddering and none of them were good.

"Hey.. why'd you stop?" he asked when he opened his eyes to see yours peering back his bulge jumped.

"Chris i can't continue the procedure like this- your sentence was cut off by him pleading

"no no, please don't stop, please" he begged

"i.. okay" you didn't have much to say, so you do as Chris asked and keep rubbing his thigh.

Chris's groaning got harsh and the wet spot only got worse, there was a rule that you were allowed to "take care" of a patient if their erection was in their way, so you did just that.

Chris threw his head back immediately when he felt your cold hands wrap around his thickness

"Fuck.. fu- ng FUCK" he groaned as he painted your face, you didnt expect him to shoot that hard from just rubbing his thigh.

"Sorry I didn't mean to… Cum on you like that" he apologized, you couldn't really respond with how his fluids were all over your face but you waved it off. You did open your mouth to speak but some of the fluids dropping into your mouth stopped from speaking

Chris took notice and smirked. He was getting softer but he was still dripping, you found yourself licking at every drop that would slip down to your lips and you couldn't stop

“Taste good?” chris asked with a smirk, you reluctantly nodded

“Open wide, you get the last drop” he stated, you opened up your mouth and Chris squeezed the last drop of cum out of his cock and it dripped onto your tongue. After you swallowed Chris smirked again

“We should do this more often” he offered

[sarahopm]

Hey! Just a fanfiction that I started to write on Toji Fushiguro! I'm posting it here and on Wattpad!

𝙏𝙖𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙚 | 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢 𝐅𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨 [Chapter 11]

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the meeting comes to an end. The elders stand up from their seats, their conversation concluding. They gather their belongings, ready to take their leave.

Helia stands nervously, watching as each elder leaves the room one by one, until only Toji and Gojo remain.

Toji gets up before walking towards the door, and just as he's about to leave the room, he stops right in front of Helia.

A smirk plays on his lips as he speaks directly to her, his comment a sharp jab, aimed to provoke a reaction.

"You serve tea like you give massages. It's awfully bad."

His comment about her serving skills stings, but she resists the urge to respond. She grits her teeth, silently seething as he mocks her, a flicker of irritation passes through her eyes.

Despite the insult, Helia keeps a composed expression on her face, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing her annoyance.

And with those words he leaves the room, an arrogant smile on his lips.

Gojo is now the only person present. He's a few feet away, still taking in her appearance with an appraising eye. His gaze flicks between Helia and the door through which Toji left, a smirk playing on his lips.

A moment of silence hangs between them, the air feeling charged with tension. Gojo's eyes linger on Helia, studying her features. After a beat, he finally speaks, his voice breaking the quiet.

"Quite the character, that one." He comments, referring to Toji.

Helia doesn't answer because she's not sure she has the right to speak badly of a member of the house in front of a guest. But if she could speak, she would have agreed with him.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips at her silence.

"Don't worry love, I think your serve tea is perfectly fine." He says, his gaze still fixed on Helia.

Helia doesn't know how to answer, he called her "love" again. She doesn't know if she should feel embarrassed or happy.

Gojo rises from his seat, his tall figure straightening to its full height, a hint of playfulness in his eyes. He takes a step closer, closing the space between them.

His next words are gentle but filled with curiosity.

"Pardon me for not asking before, but what's your name, love?"

This time Helia answers, trying to seem as polite as possible.

"It's Helia sir."

A small smile plays on his lips at the sound of her name.

"Helia." He repeats, the syllables rolling off his tongue with ease. "Such a lovely name for a lovely lady." He says, his voice smooth and velvety.

Right now, Helia feels like she could burn from the heat coming from her cheeks.

He notices her efforts to maintain composure in his presence, her flustered demeanor not going unnoticed.

A soft chuckle escapes his lips, a hint of amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"Well Helia, I'll be sure to come back soon for some more of your excellent tea service, love."

And with that he leaves the room.

With Gojo's departure, the tension in the room dissipates, allowing Helia to finally exhale. She can feel her cheeks heating up, a flush of emotion spreading across her face.

She takes a moment to collect herself, trying to calm her racing heart and cooling her flushed cheeks.

But it wasn't an easy task. Someone as charming as Gojo had never complimented her that way.

With a few deep breaths, she regains her composure. Then, she begins to tidy up the room, collecting the teacups left behind by the participants of the meeting.

[...]

Her job finally done; Helia begins making her way back to the maid compound. The walk back is a quiet one, allowing her some time to reflect on the events that just occurred.

The memory of Gojo's presence and his charming demeanor linger in her mind, his words replaying in her thoughts like a melody. He had called her "love" and not only once but four times!

Of course, she's also reminded of Toji's comment, but as soon as that thought crosses her mind, she pushes it out of her head to only focus on the positive parts of this meeting.

At least he hadn't done anything to embarrass or degrade her in front of the others.

[...]

As she approaches the maid compound, her eyes catch sight of Anna running towards her. Excitement is etched across her face. She closes the distance between them quickly.

Over the course of their partnership in their revenge plan against Toji, Helia and Anna had grown close, sharing a bond of trust and friendship.

"So?! How was the meeting?!" Anna asks, her eyes widening with curiosity. She had likely heard that Helia was the one chosen to bring tea.

Helia's smile widens, a mixture of excitement and mischief dancing in her eyes. Anna's eagerness to hear all the details is infectious, and she can't help but feel the same anticipation to share her experience.

"I have so many things to tell you!" Helia starts, a hint of eagerness in her voice.

Just as Helia is about to continue her story, a sound interrupts her. A small puff of air resonates from the other side of the room, drawing their attention and breaking their focus.

Turning towards the source of the noise, they try to identify who or what has intruded upon their conversation.

They realize it's Cassy, standing on the other side of the room. Her presence surprises Helia slightly, as she had not expected her to enter and disrupt her conversation with Anna.

Cassy addresses Helia directly, her words laced with mockery and jealousy. Her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Oh, I bet you're feeling very proud and happy to be chosen to serve tea, aren't you? How thrilling that must be for you."

Anna interjects, her voice tinged with annoyance and protectiveness towards Helia. She turns her attention to Cassy, not hiding her discontent with the unexpected intrusion.

"What do you want, Cassy? We're in the middle of a conversation here."

Cassy doesn't respond immediately, her gaze shifting between Helia and Anna, a sly smile playing on her lips. The room falls into a tense silence for a few moments before she finally speaks again.

"I just thought I'd come by and see how our little tea server is doing. It's quite an honor to be chosen for such a task."

Helia responds to Cassy's comment with a polite yet dismissive tone, indicating that she's not interested in prolonging the conversation with her.

"Well, I'm fine thank you. But I have something to discuss with Anna."

Cassy huffs in annoyance, her expression turning sour. Her voice drips with envy and ill intent as she speaks.

"Just because they picked you to serve tea for a meeting, don't start thinking it makes you more important or special. You're still just a maid, remember that."

Helia is surprised that Cassy uses such a harsh tone to address her. She can't help but think that Cassy must have some kind of complex to attack her like that.

But Cassy continues to speak, her voice filled with bitterness and frustration, revealing the reason behind her unexpected appearance.

She gazes at Helia with cold, narrowed eyes, her words laced with jealousy.

"I was supposed to be the one to bring tea and meet Gojo today, but you ruined it all! I should have been the one sitting in that room with those powerful men, not you!"

Helia sighs, yes, that girl really has a big problem.

"It's not my fault that I have been chosen, you should get over it Cassy. There's no point in blaming me for something I had no control over."

Cassy huffs once more, her frustration clearly evident in her body language, she walks in direction of the door and before leaving she turns to Helia one more time, her voice carrying a menacing tone.

"Enjoy your little moment in the spotlight, it won't last forever, little tea girl. You might have caught their attention this time, but I'll be waiting for you to slip up. Trust me."

With that final warning, Cassy exits the room, leaving Helia and Anna alone once again.

As Helia watches Cassy exits the room, she shakes her head in frustration and confusion. Anna breaks the silence that follows Cassy's departure and speaks.

"What the hell is wrong with that girl?"

Helia agrees with Anna's assessment of Cassy's behavior, nodding her head in agreement.

"I don't know either, but she definitely has some serious issue."

Helia estimates that Cassy isn't worth the trouble and shifts her focus back to the original topic, the memory of the meeting and everything that had happened there.

"Oh, right! I still have to tell you how the meeting went! Well, where should I start?"

A smile spreads across her face as she gets ready to share the details with Anna.

[...]

Helia had spent some time recounting everything that happened at the meeting to Anna, and her excitement matched her own.

Now, as the day came to a close, Helia had retreated to her room, getting ready for bed. She lets out a sigh feeling both satisfied and exhausted after the eventful day.

As her mind travels through the events of the day once more, her thoughts linger on three particular individuals: Toji, Gojo, and Cassy.

Thoughts about Toji's intimidating presence and his comment on her serving skills, Gojo's charming demeanor and his offer to come back to the compound, and Cassy's jealousy and her warning to watch her back.

As the stream of thoughts continues flowing through her mind, Helia's eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

Gradually, her breathing becomes slow and steady, her body relaxing into the soft, comfortable sheets.

The memories and images in her head begin to blur together, and finally, she drifts off into a gentle sleep.

[justcallmealt]

Lc Fausto drabble

Warnings: a small amount of gore and description of bodily fluids.

Plus some abno magic, idc (big bird)

Another day, another job with abnormalities. Luckily, this time it wasn't [CENSORED]. Unfortunately, it wasn't even the Mountain of Smiling Bodies that he could attack with its own ego weapon for the sake of irony and suppression work. Seeing what was left of Sammer's face on this abno was unpleasant every time. No, today he had work with the Big Bird. A little less risky than usual, but Fausto had to be careful not to hurt the tender feelings of the creature without feathers, but with a lamp and not lose his head to a beak with too many teeth. A stupid creature along with its problematic friends. It would be nice to twist that beak to the side during suppression, but the creature itself is not so simple. At least there won't be another event or another Apocalypse bird in the near future, and thanks for that.

The wing behind his right shoulder moved involuntarily, the eyes on the feathers looked in all directions, searching for danger in response to his thoughts. Hmm, how annoying these involuntary reactions were. And he hadn’t done anything yet. However, sometimes this feeling of lightness on one hand gave peace. After all, it was a sign that he had survived the Twilight. A sign of strength, adaptation and life. And on the other hand, there were the Abnormalities. Creatures beyond human capabilities, one distraction from which, even the weakest, could lead to an agonizing and painful death or madness, and sometimes turning into a brainless puppet regardless of the agent’s strength. He still missed some of his colleagues, those who did not understand which buttons of the anomalies were better to press or not to touch at all as well as he and other senior and experienced agents...

But the day had begun, it was time to get to work. His intuition rarely let him down, and this time it was telling him that he had to be prepared to work with a demanding bird, but not as capricious as her TETH class friend. If abnos even could have friends, huh. If he could get into another department, he could give nightmares that new agent, Cosmo, was that her name? Maybe. In any case, creating new nightmares to her, as well as other newcomers, would be a good idea, knowing the reputation the junior agents had already created for him. And how they tried to blend into the walls when he was around. Very good, less chance that they would look for information about him. Or, find that he was lying about being from the City and this universe.

Fausto sighed as he entered the abno chamber. His eye quickly adjusted to the darkness, but the dim light from the lamp on his blind side was somewhat irritating. Well, the work began.

"Greetings, Forest Keeper."

He knew how much the three birds loved pleasant words and compliments to their "work". But the main thing is not to pour these pleasant words too much, otherwise they began to suspect agents or think that humans are monsters that they seek for, and this could lead to many problems. And with the Justice bird this could lead to a sad outcome. But, he knew very well how problematic Attachment work could be. Some lines in the working with abnormalities were too close to death.

Judging by the sound of the two huge feet pattering, the bird's attention had been captured. Excellent. Fausto smiled as politely as his scars would allow, not looking at the lamp and trying to focus on the bird's middle eyes.

"Glad to see you're still keeping this place safe as always. Honestly, I don't think I could keep my crew as effective as you keep this place safe."

The bird's fluff rose, and the thing itself seemed taller than usual with pride. Fausto could lie easily, with time and reputation it came naturally. Especially since he worked with dangerous anomalies that could put the entire department, or even the entire facility, at risk. The smell of burnt feathers from the lamp intensified, but he tried to ignore the light as much as he could. Even if it was difficult due to the anomaly's ability. Now, the part about distracting the anomaly with nonexistent problem before continuing to say beautiful words for a good result.

"But, I came to you for advice, Forest Keeper. Can you advise me on how to help my people when they are outside your domain? My strength may not be enough at certain times."

The bird tilted its head to the side, a few sparks from the lamp hitting Fausto's skin from the movement. He didn't flinch even if it hurt, continuing to look into the bird's eyes, feigning sincerity under the gaze of so many eyes. He couldn't let the lamp distract him. He didn't want to repeat Sammer's fate. He will remember her. Everyone. Their deaths won't be in vain. Fausto continued.

"I can't keep track of them all physically. Unfortunately, some things are beyond my power as a captain."

He wasn't lying about that. He really couldn't keep track of his subordinates physically, relying mostly on his intuition and keen hearing. And because of that, some newbies died too quickly before he could get them out of the place with some scary wording, which... It was annoying.

The bird reached its free claw toward the eye hidden behind his bangs. Fausto flinched, looking away. He hated having that ugly scar on his eye (and the lack of a left eye in general) exposed for all to see. Telling of his weakness. He looked away, knowing that the position of the lamp had changed too, but still listening intently, including the short thumping noise as the bird approached the working line. Too close. The bird's claws scraped his cheek unpleasantly as it pushed back the hair, looking and thinking.

The bird shifted again, the lamp changed position, briefly coming into Fausto's field of vision. This desire, to come closer, to get rid of the darkness around... So beautiful, but too deadly. He knew the bird was offering its gift, but he shook his head, knowing that he could not get rid of the Firebird's gift so easily without the manager's permission. He looked away, blinking rapidly until the light spot disappeared from the inside of his eyelids, and the bird tried to solve the problem of his words and actions as best it could. He knew that at least some of the eyes, more than two, were watching him, but he could not do anything about it. He could not die here. Not so far away. He could not repeat Sammer's fate. E.g.o. gift from the Child of the Galaxy glowed softly, giving a little relief and forcing him to look at the situation more seriously, like when he started the work and not relax too much.

There was a sudden sound, as if a piece of flesh was being ripped apart by force. Fausto involuntarily became wary, his wing twitched. There was a squelching sound before the bird turned to him, offering in its claw... Its eye? This did not seem like the standard ego gift from this abno. And probably wasn't. Should he...? Hell, he was going to die in this place anyway, but if his intuition is right about it even if he does not exactly know what to do yet, so why not.

Fausto reached out hesitantly, accepting the gift and watching as the bird's lost eye regenerated, leaving behind a bit of the abnormality's blood.

"Thank you, Protector."

His voice showed no weakness despite all the emotions. Who knew at what point the manager would decide to watch the agents at work. However, Fau's words expressed gratitude. It was better to play by the rules of the anomalies until they demanded a sacrifice or got out of the chamber. And for this anomaly, a good result was desirable. He had to play by the rules. Even if he did not quite understand how and what he should do with this eye.

His voice showed no weakness despite all the emotions. Who knew at what point the manager would decide to watch the agents at work. However, Fau's words expressed gratitude. It was better to play by the rules of the abnos until they demanded a sacrifice or got out of the chamber. And for this one, a good result was desirable. He had to play by the rules. Even if he did not quite understand how and what he should do with this eye.

Fausto took the organ, the unpleasant feeling of slight dampness and stickiness was felt even through the gloves. Unpleasant, but familiar. Nothing fatal, so he shouldn't care about that much. He looked uncertainly at the bird, as if looking for a hint, but not finding it, he did what his intuition told him.

Fausto brought the eye to his empty socket, inserting the eye with a familiar motion, as if it were his previous prosthesis. At first, nothing happened, and he felt a little stupid, hoping for a miracle or trying not to get sepsis from such an unforeseen and frankly stupid action. Only after a few seconds did he sense something was wrong.

Fausto fell to his knees as the alien eye suddenly made his body arch in pain, and he knew exactly by the feeling that the eye had been cut in half, just like that time, five years ago. No, no, not again... He almost forgot those feeling, this is not-

The pain was unbearable, the wet and slightly sticky feeling first on his cheek and then on his lips, becoming barely salty, greasy and a sickening taste like raw whites of an egg, it was too much. It was so much like the day he lost his eye. That attack. When he had to dig the shard out of his socket with bare hands to keep it from going in deeper under the force and killing him instantly. Fausto threw up from the sensation. He couldn't see. He. Couldn't. See. No. No no no no no. He was strong. He had survived the Twilight, much more dangerous things. He couldn't... Please, not here. He didn't want to feel like a defenseless teenager again, like five years ago. He wouldn't... It wouldn't end here, would it? It wouldn't...

His vision returned as suddenly as it had gone. The sense of past pain disappeared, revealing old scars once again and taking away that cold-blooded image of the captain, leaving only a traumatized human, a teenager without a childhood, forced to grow up too early and be blackmailed for most of his life. He noticed the burns here and there, and Big Bird. But... His vision. Something felt wrong, different.

Fausto carefully touched the left side of his face. He... He could see from both sides. It was... A miracle. But how? No matter, the abnos always worked according to stupid rules, it was not his job at the moment. And yet... It was so strange to see only from one side, to adapt to one eye, only to gain the other eye five years later...

Fausto looked at Big Bird. Part of him was in awe, part of him was terrified. Who knew what anomalies could do without a restraining factor.

"... Thank you. I never thought I would be able to see with both eyes again."

He paused, remembering what he had said to the bird before... the gift, before continuing.

"Now I can help them. I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Guardian."

Fausto heard the beep, indicating that the work with abnormality was over. It was time to leave.

"Thank you again for such a gift, Guardian. You are truly a wise keeper of this forest."

Fausto reverted to the captain's persona as soon as he turned away, hiding his left eye out of habit and deciding to leave the fact of the unexpected gift for a more important moment. The others didn't need to know about it.

This day would definitely be something, knowing that he would have to adjust to binocular vision again.

[sapphicsobstory]

I rewrote the MHA ending in my head

Okay so, I posted this first on Reddit. Idk why, I'm mostly a lurker and I'm not aware of how anything works, but I wanted to put this on Tumblr cuz this is MY HELLSCAPE AND I DECIDE WHAT GOES HERE.

I don't think I have many MHA fans as my mutuals, but hopefully this reaches people who might want to see this.

________________________

Now, I should start by saying, I could be completely tweaking here, I have no clue how to end stories usually. And this entire idea came to me when I woke up at 05:30 AM. But what I'm going for in this scenario is to change as little about the final chapter to try to reconcile what is and what could be.

So, if you hate the ending, tell me if this is better. If you like the ending, tell me if this is even slightly more preferable.

The first thing I would change overall is the inconsistency about Deku losing his powers that early on in the story. The embers would have only gone out maybe a month or two prior to when this picks up.

Also, Dai's personal scenes don't need changing as this is an unfamiliar character, so we don't really know anything about them.

Keep everything up to the discussion with Aizawa the same as it is, except one small change. On page 6 (only including storyboarded pages), instead of using "Uravity" in his narration, Deku uses "Uraraka-san", but uses everyone else's hero names.

In his discussion with Aizawa, after they talk about Bakugo and Todoroki:

AIZAWA: Do you feel lonely?

DEKU (instead of having a muted expression, Deku looks conflicted): Well, yes. But years ago when you were talking to Fuwa-senpai, I thought to myself... "Even if I go back to being Quirkless, all I have done would not be in vain (mirroring Mirio's words from the Overhaul fight). My experience could still be handy to encourage other people." I think that's pretty cool in a way. Do you think I'm cool Sensei? (Maybe in this panel make him do the All Might Face)

AIZAWA: (one panel of silence or (...) as he evaluates the words of his student) I wish you were stricter with your students. That's important you know?

Nothing else changes about the scene, because giving a non-compliment would be very much Aizawa's style, and I think Deku's reaction to that could be made funnier with a more defeated but funny expression without making the scene seem heavy. Basically, I'm trying to lighten the mood of the scene as it doesn't fit well in context, and I feel like Deku needs to be either better at hiding his loneliness and sadness, and/or effectively a little more goofy as a teacher to get it across the page that he's not in a 9 to 5, day-in day-out kinda job, but actually finds his own way to enjoy it.

I don't want to change much about Deku's interaction with Dai, except maybe put in a couple of more humourous panels. Like, Deku saves the kid and Dai just freaking drags his face across the pavement trying to get there, and just doesn't move for a couple of seconds. Maybe we could redo the Gran Torino bit of "HE'S DEAD" followed by Dai immediately sitting up and saying "I'm fine", and Deku shrieking "HE'S ALIVE".

Also the smile Deku gives Dai at the end of their interaction, I would have made it a little brighter. Instead of the normal smile, maybe have his eyes crease like when he does a smile when he fights All Might in the final exam. This to show that Deku still does understand that a hero's job doesn't end on the battlefield (Not very attached to this change, ngl). And then he narrates what he narrates about encouraging others, and blah blah. But the scene doesn't cut to UA building immediately.

Then the chapter doesn't end there. Here's where I want to extend the chapter to give us a little more of what we thoroughly deserved: Uraraka.

Deku returns to his place of residence (house/apartment) and finds Urakaka standing there with a trolley/sitting on her trolley, depending on which one looks better in drawn form. She's not in her hero uniform, but we could depict her wearing Deku merch, depends on the level of tootache that shounen writers would be okay with. He's little surprised to see her, but not that much.

DEKU: Urakaka-san, I didn't expect you back so soon! (He could call her by name, but it fits Deku and Ochako's character more that they still use their childhood monikers for each other)

OCHAKO: Tadaima! Thought I'd surprise you! Although I forgot to pack my keys when I left.

DEKU: Okaeri! Good thing I'm home early then.

(Scene cuts to later they're both in their home, preferably having coffee/hot chocolate on the couch)

OCHAKO: Deku-kun... I'm sorry I couldn't be here when the embers--

DEKU: You don't need to apologise about it Uraraka-san! There was no way we could have known when it was going to happen. I knew I was running on low for a while, but it's not exactly science, you know!

OCHAKO: Still! I know you told me to not cut my tour short, but you needed me here.

DEKU: (While looking thoughtful) Uraraka-san, did I ever tell you what part of One For All made it the strongest quirk?

[My brain really REALLY wanted to enter a dirty joke here about Uraraka saying she liked Black Whip the most for obvious reasons, but that's obviously never going to happen in a shounen manga.]

OCHAKO: No. What made it strong?

DEKU: Every user that I talked to inside of One For All told me their quirk was weak, or that its power had been bolstered by it, or that the stockpiling power inside One For All was what made it so strong over the years.

[Scene cuts to the different OFA owners inside of Deku's soulspace]

DEKU: I've come to realise that that's exactly what humans do. We stockpile all the experiences and skills that we develop, to have it passed down to the next generation. The collection of everything we've sweat for, bled for... All the emotions that we've felt... Those are passed on to next person in line. That's how our strength as a society grows. That's how our lineage as a species grows. And that's how our hopes and dreams turn into reality.

(Turns towards Ochako)

DEKU: I believe in what I'm doing. Even if with the reduced hero capacity makes it so that I can't do hero work again, that's fine with me. I want to pass on every experience I had to my students. Every day I spent living my dream as the greatest hero, with all of you... All of those memories... I wish to pass on all of it. From One [Panel of Deku's face] to All [Panel of Deku's UA Class].

OCHAKO: And that's exactly why, you're my greatest hero. [HAND-HOLDING INITIATED. YES I KNOW THIS IS CORNY AND CRINGE, NO I DO NOT APOLOGISE.]

OCHAKO: But... I didn't tell you yet why I am home early.

And then we can have All Might burst into their home from the front door instead of the setting being at the airport with his whole "I am here" shtick. OCHAKO smiles as she seems to be aware what this interruption is for. We do lose the funny but awesome bit about All Might crushing "END" to pieces, but it's worth it. And the scene continues as is, for most part.

I just want more panels drawn with characters that are mentioned in the conversation.

TOSHINORI: It was created by a friend from the US [panel of Dave and Melissa] along with young Hatsume [panel of Hatsume] and funded by the Class A, and young Bakugo at the heart of it!

TOSHINORI: The secret's out! Your body still moves on its own, right?

And we cut out the next line about how this is an "earned" power. Instead of that;

TOSHINORI: It's time kid! Clench your buttocks, and remember the old school motto! (No need to say it here, fans would fill in the blanks themselves, making them relate more to this part of the chapter).

HAWKS: (change the panel to make it seem like he's giving an interview) Do we have more "time to kill" than before? Heh. In a way. It's more so that we have more time to do the things we want to do to make lives better. Both ours, and for those who we protect. (Ik it comes off feeling like a little bit bootlicky when compared to what real life people say about Cops and such, I want to rewrite these few lines later). A landslide at Starwar highway is messing with the traffic. Requesting help from heroes!

[Huge panel of all our Class A heroes run out together, Toru with them, visible but turning invisible along with her clothes. We can explain later in an omake about how her clothes are made with her hair like Mirio.]

This is the story of how all of us will keep reaching our hands out forever.

THE END

So, yeah. I know it's long af and they would have to put in a few more pages to fit it. But idk I feel like this would not only justify Deku's current job, it would give us the IzuOcha we deserved (that I'm sure was cut out coz editors don't like to take away from other shippers so that they can keep selling merch), and it would correct some, if not all, character writing inconsistencies. And we COULD cut out the specialized suit thing coz many people want to see Batman Deku, but realistically I wanted to change as little as possible while adding some stuff. Plus the world does canonically say that only the best of the best are becoming heroes. So I think a retired pro-hero (who is also a war hero) trying to use ingenuity and skill to get by vs a retired pro-hero that wears a suit the cost of which is equal to a small country's GDP and few of the top heroes even contributed to that cost... It would be harder for the government to ask Deku to not do hero work in the second scenario.

Tell me what you think!

[joz-yyh]

Blighted Hearts - Ch. 10

SUMMARY: It's their last few days at the sanitarium, and Junia’s developed a crush. When the trio returns home to the abbey there are still more pieces to pick up. Can Damian finally expel his partner's guilt? No beta. Read at your own risk.

RATING: EXPLICIT (ass licking / anal sex / blow jobs)

PAIRING: Abomination x Flagellant / (hints of vestal x nurse)

WORD COUNT: 5,074

READ ON Ao3: -> HERE!!

A/N: Will probably get back onto the “plot” after this chapter, maybe not. Let me know what you guys think.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————–

Junia’s in the midst of stocking a cart with linens and other armamentariums when Damian and Bigby appear, the two looking a whole shade brighter from their time in the shower.

“Why, don't you two clean up nice,” Junia commends, a swell of pride floating up into her chest.

“We feel better too,” Damian adds, matching the tautology with a mischievous smirk.

Bigby flushes, involuntarily, culpable, but it seems the vestal is none the wiser, attributing his reaction to her compliment.

“I was hoping so! When we look our best, goodness is sure to follow!”

“Uh, is there anything else you’d like for us to do,” the lycan speaks up, hoping to avoid further embarrassment, his cheeks still glowing.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, there is. Some old files are sitting by the door of Miss Gertrude's office. Could you bring them to the storage room?”

The vestal takes a key from her sash (a privilege she earned from splitting shifts with the nurses), entrusting it to her custodial charges.

“Right away,” the abomination says, snatching it up, embarking on their quest without delay.

“Consider it done,” Damian boasts, smiling at her, off to catch up to his partner's spirited footfalls.

“Make me proud,” the vestal cheers, content to return to her work.

As they walk to fulfill their newly appointed task, Bigby chooses now to voice his concerns.

“Shouldn’t we be more careful?”

“I thought we were.”

Bigby sighs, his reasoning so elementary it shouldn't need an explanation, but he gives one anyway.

“It's just ... I don't want others to –”

“– To suspect that there's something between us? Would it be so bad if they knew?”

“They might have an idea. We're not exactly hiding it very well.”

“Must we continue to hide? Why can't we be freely what we are?”

The flagellant swipes at air, a flare of aggravation, one that he turns into the wall, arm outstretched, blocking Bigby’s path.

“Damian –”

“Forget it. I will be more mindful if that is what you wish.”

It seems the snubbed holy man is done with this conversation, striding on ahead, Bigby having trouble finding cause to refute him.

Once they arrive at Miss Gertrude's office, the flagellant taps bloody knuckles against the pane of glass.

“Yes, come in.”

The headmistress greets them as they cross the threshold, a well-inked quill in her hand. “Hello, gentleman. I assume you're here for the autopsy reports?”

“Autopsies,” Bigby asks, wondering if these are the same files Junia spoke of.

“Why yes, this is a small town where lots of strange deaths occur. We keep all our records with the hopes that it will prevent further casualties in the future.”

Bigby's mind is hurled back to the moment they first arrived at the sanitarium, carrying Damian's prone body, wondering if the nurses would have cut him open and used him as research if he had failed to recover.

“I-I see.”

The flagellant watches him freeze, the hesitation that follows, offering him an out.

“I can handle this. See to Miss Junia. I am sure she will have need of you.”

As much as he appreciates the thought, Bigby can't bring himself to leave his partner's side.

“No, it's alright. It'll be easier with the two of us.”

The abomination collects his portion of boxes, the two men walking themselves out with twin stacks of heavy documents.

Now in the safety of the hallway, Bigby thinks of questionnaires and paperwork, recalling all the blanks about his boyfriend's past, how little he knew about him.

“Damian …”

“Yes?”

“Where did you grow up? What was your family like?”

Damian is frowning, the plodding of their feet filling the silence.

“Sorry, that's probably a lot to answer. I just thought we could get to know each other better.”

“We could, but just as you keep a part of your past secret, so too will I. Perhaps, when you are ready to bear yours, I will bear mine as well.”

He supposes that's fair. Bigby had never told him about how he became a werewolf, of what kind of man he was before coming to Hamlet.

It's strange, the priest is usually so frank about everything, and yet here he was, shut up, distant, just as Bigby had asked.

They arrive at the storage room, the shapeshifter freeing up his hands to open the lock.

Damian heads in first, the space packed with large cabinet drawers, shelves and shelves of evidence boxes. The flagellant finds the corresponding letters that match the log on the box, setting it beside those that are like it.

Task complete, he turns to leave, seeing no reason to stay, Bigby grabbing at his arm.

“Hey, wait.”

“Why? The two of us alone in a dark room may draw unwanted suspicion.”

It's another jab, one that Bigby supposes he deserves.

“Listen, I am sorry. Just don't go.”

Damian hasn’t pulled away from him yet, but he also hasn't come any closer, standing there, waiting for more words to be said.

“You're right, we shouldn't have to hide, but when I think of losing what we have, of others driving us apart, calling us wrong, disgusting, forcing us out into the cold, hurting you … I am … afraid.”

Bigby has to hold back a sob, trying not to get swept up by his emotions, the flagellant finally approaching him, enfolding his lanky frame into a sanctuary of bandaged arms.

“Shhhh,” he soothes, a hand petting through his long hair. “I know you've suffered much, just as I have, but you must turn your fear into fortitude, pain into power.”

“How?”

He sounds so helplessly lost, desperate for guidance.

Damian smirks, pulling back to intertwine their hands, showing him just how easy it's become for them to share affection.

“Do you remember? Before when you were too scared to hold my hand and now look.”

The flagellant gives their fingers a squeeze, proof of their unshakable bond, much different from when Bigby had tried it for the first time. He remembers apologizing profusely for such a small act, fearing rejection even when Damian assured him he wanted it.

“You even kissed me in front of Baldwin.”

The wolfboy chuckles, a stray tear falling past his cheek. “He wasn't too happy with us.”

“It doesn't matter. Our love has grown so much. Do not turn your back on it now just to appease them.”

The wolfboy shakes his head.

“It's not that, I was just being cautious. Not everyone will be as willing to accept us.”

“Then, we fight back, love each other even harder. Do not let their ignorance change what we are.”

Bigby looks up at him, jade eyes glassy.

“You make it sound so easy.”

“Because it is, trust me.”

The shapeshifter puts his theory to the test, compliant as long as his partner meets him halfway.

“How's this: I'll open up more if you can keep your hands above my waist.”

“You ask a lot of me,” the flagellant teases, toying with his lower chainlinks, “Your waist is very grabable.”

“Maybe, but we can't go jumping each other's bones every chance we get.”

Damian's mouth opens to interject, Bigby amending his terms to counter it.

“At least, until we're back at the abbey.”

“I'll do my best,” the priest agrees, bowing down for a kiss.

“Good,” the abomination huffs, sealing their parted lips together in promise.

—

The ensuing days fly by in a similar fashion, Junia wondering how Baldwin could have had such a disheartened experience when it was pure fun for her.

She helps the boys with their chores, making herself useful, too restless and kind for anything less.

When she's distracted, chatting with the other nurses, Damian steals a kiss from Bigby, this becoming another game between them, to see how many he can get away with before she catches on.

She zaps the pesky flagellant in the ass with her mace, a bolt of divine lightning in repercussion of his bad behavior, the nurses clapping and laughing at the display.

Mistress Gertrude gladly marks 'responds to shock therapy' down in Damian's chart, but gently discourages the vestal from doing it too much, lest her sanitarium devolve into chaos.

—-

The staff have all gathered round, seeing their honorary co-workers off, Damian and Bigby’s debt finally repaid, dressed in their rightful clothes.

“I am going to miss you,” Jillian sniffles, already starting to cry despite her best efforts to hold her sorrow in check.

“Pull yourself together,” schools the headmistress, having taught her apprentice better, “Need I remind you, that a patient leaving our care is a good thing.”

“She's right,” Bigby consoles, putting a comforting hand on the blubbering nurse's shoulder, “We're only next door.”

“But …,” the young girl pouts, eyes made big with tears, “ … it was so nice having you here and now that you're going, I don't know, it's like a part of this place is missing.”

Bigby is touched, sympathizing with her. He never expected she would become so attached so quickly, especially when it came to a creature of his ill repute.

“We could come to visit from time to time,” he offers, looking to Gertrude for approval, “to help out of course. If it's alright?”

“Oh yes, me too,” Junia concurs, voice ringing out, turning everyone's heads as she raises a glove.

Her reaction is a bit too eager, the vestal composing herself after the fact, making herself look small in an effort to save face.

“I am sure I can find something for you to do,” says the matronly figure, “but let's be clear, it will be considered volunteer work done out of the kindness of the church. We simply don't have the funds for anything else.”

“That won't be a problem,” Bigby says, speaking on behalf of all of them.

“Really? You'd come back to help us,” Jillian asks, eyes drying up, shining with admiration.

Bigby nods, pleased to see her smile again, “And don't forget, we’ll be expecting you at mass this Sunday.”

The girl beams a radiant glow of freckles, finally appeased, “OK!”

Jillian throws her arms around him, launching them both into a hug, the startled abomination returning it, gently patting her back.

She doesn't stop with him though, the sweet nurse goes down the line, Junia and Damian also given a proper farewell, participants in her jubilation.

“Excuse me, young lady.”

“Yes,” Junia says, nervousness collecting on her brow, too self conscious of her faux pax to think twice about who might be addressing her.

“Hello, I am mistress Madilyn.”

So stunned by this surprise, Junia's rendered positively speechless. Her eyes go wide, jaw dropping, quickly hiding it behind her hand.

“I've been observing you these past few days and I must say I am quite impressed. Have you ever considered nursing as a profession?”

“Oh … oh my,” Junia exclaims, taken aback, unsure of what to say, settling for niceties, “Why, thank you. And um well no, I can't say that I have. I love helping people of course, but I don't have much experience treating patients aside from battlefield medicine.”

“Well, do give it some thought. I think you'd be wonderful for it. I could even take you under my wing.”

The flossy clad woman smiles, a softness of her chuckle like a birds song, the light catching her lips, making them shine like the gold crucifix she wears around her neck.

The vestal nods, scrambling to find words, trying to hide just how much that means to her. “Thank you, I will.”

“Well, I won't keep you any longer,” Madilyn says, waving goodbye to her prodigee, “It was nice meeting you. I hope we can see each other again soon.”

Junia nods, watching her go, struck with feelings of the heart.

So many times she had intended to talk to Mistress Madilyn and so many times she had been interrupted, the two always pulled in opposite directions that Junia had almost forgotten, but the woman she idolized had noticed her after all.

Amidst all her fervent daydreaming, a realization crosses her mind: she hadn't even told Madilyn her name.

Oh well, there was always tomorrow.

—-

“Helloooo,” Junia calls out, announcing their arrival, “we're back!”

To her surprise, none of the other church members answer, the vestal's face set into a morose simper as she ponders this, “Strange, I wonder where they could be?”

Damian and Bigby follow in after, the flagellant carrying a box of his personal effects (namely his books), Junia holding the large doors open for them.

“Why don't you two settle in,” she suggests, sealing the entrance closed behind them, “I'll go ahead and see what's taking everyone.”

“We could split up, help you look,” Bigby offers, thinking it only proper to lend a hand.

“It's alright, you should rest. Besides, I want to see Baldwin about getting dinner ready.”

She excuses herself with a wave, taking off in a pitter patter of boots, heading straight for the leper's room.

Damian is bound for the basement, intent on returning his books to their proper place, expecting Bigby to follow, but his partner remains unwavering, bare feet glued in place.

“Something the matter,” the flagellant asks, approaching him delicately.

“Hmm, oh no, it's … nothing.”

Having witnessed Bigby declare such things before, mask his true emotions, Damian is sure that it's most definitely something.

He doesn't push to know what it is, the werewolf will tell him if given enough time, the flagellant hoping to move them both forward until then.

“Won't you come with me?”

Bigby doesn't answer right away, contemplating the bloody hand held out for him to take, forcing a smile, allowing himself to be led along.

A few steps in and the werewolf stops his descent, Damian feeling the tug on their joined hands, an anchor that prevents him from treading further down.

The flagellant turns to face his boyfriend, resting just beneath the old stairwell that holds their weight.

“What frightens you so,” the flagellant asks, voice gentle, feeling a tremble in the vagabond’s arms.

“It's … this is where I found you,” the beastboy admits, looking ashamed, clutching at the fabric of his shroud.

“And you will find me here many more times,” the flagellant assures him, smiling lightly.

He sets down the books, letting go of their grips to still the creeping doubt in the marked man's shoulders.

Those big sad eyes gaze into his, looking past the blood-stained splotches of Damian’s hood, Bigby shaking his half-shaved head of tousled black hair.

“No, I mean before … before you …”

Bigby can't bear to say it, the words trailing off into nothingness.

Damian's touch rises, bloody hands cupping the grim shadow of his partner's cheeks, holding a sharp jaw as their foreheads meet, so close he can feel the flagellant’s breath against his lips.

“It’s in the past. You're forgiven. You must forgive yourself as well. Do this for me, please?”

Chains rattle as scruffy hands rise to enfold over Damian’s own, clutching him back, needing his strength if he was to fulfill such a request, dejected green eyes closing as he nods in agreement.

“Then come,” the holy man says, taking Bigby by the hand once more, leading him with an emollient pace.

Another bend around the stairs and they reach the bottom, the sturdy doors to the basement left open, Damian's room untouched since they were here last.

The flagellant pulls him inside, letting go only momentarily, retrieving the broom and dustpan in the corner.

Bigby takes the proffered implements, Damian going back for the mop, the two tasked with mitigating the mess they left behind.

“I'll take care of the left side and you the right. We should be done in no time.”

The flagellant is confident in their ability, beaming with energy, that abomination nodding his concurrence, trying to match his level of enthusiasm.

To start, the wolfboy looks towards the broken assembly of prison cages, thinking he could correct the oversight by bending the bars back into place, but that doesn't solve the issue of broken chains and corroded metal. Just as well, the garish remains of the guitone and the spanish pony would not be so easily repaired.

“What about your collection,” he asks, sheepish, solely responsible for the damage.

“We will make them new again, but this, we can worry about another day.”

Damian gives him a quick peck on the cheek, a blessing of luck before setting off to tidy up his half of the room.

—

Bigby hovers around the remnants of the crudely arranged nest, a creation his wolfside had built out of instinct, leaning against the tall broom handle in his hands, using it as a crutch.

He'd saved this spot for last, the messy tangle of tarnished sheets holding the most painful of memories.

Lost in thought, the skittish boy jumps as hands encircle his waist, pulling him in against a well-toned abdomen, the broom clattering to the floor.

“I've finished my side. What about you?”

“Just this,” Bigby sighs, grateful for the distraction.

“Mmm,” Damian hums, his lips forming a smile next to Bigby’s ear, “Then, shall I be the beast this time?”

Bigby's eyes fly open, shocked by the implication.

“You would want to,” the abomination asks, squirming in the thorny hold of bandaged arms because how could Damian not loathe this very spot, “… here.”

“This is where we were joined. I only have fond memories of it. I hope that you will one day too.”

A crimson hand breaks away from the loop, dragging blunt nails up his lover's chest, grasping at the rough shape of him, fingertips stroking over the small peak of a nipple while the other hand folds in the opposite direction, trailing along the exposed patches of skin created by the barrier of his chains, lower to the waist of his torn pants, though, Damian doesn't reach inside.

Bigby reacts, Damian privy to the effect, heavy breaths growing shorter, feeling the desperate rise of strained ribs under his care.

“See, it’s not so bad,” the flagellant coos, biting at his ear, chipped tooth sinking into the delicate cartilage.

“No, I guess it isn't,” Bigby huffs, his body swelling with telltale heat, mulling his mind with a dubious haze of arousal.

They'd behaved while they worked off their debt to the sanitarium (mostly, except for that one time in the shower), Bigby able to bask in these acts of pleasure without the fear of being caught.

The abomination turns fully in his grip, the flagellant allowing it as they reunite face to face. A brief hesitation, the two exchanging a smoldering gaze before Bigby's scruffy mitts lay over the torn flaps of a masochist hood, grabbing him by it, pulling the taller man down to his lips.

Bigby nips him playfully, once, twice, more than a few times before his teeth grow sharp, digging into delicate pink flesh until it oozes red.

Damian is groaning, letting his partner do whatever he wants because he loves every move he makes, is sure that Bigby can feel the erection pressing between them just as roughly as the chains impressed upon his skin.

“Lets see what kind of beast you are,” Bigby taunts, eyes shining with that luminous nightstalker green.

The flagellant is dizzy, blind and numb to everything but that seductive pull, the dominant smirk on his lover's blood-stained lips.

“A greedy one,” Damian grins in return, needing to show him just how much, “that will eat you up.”

He steals Bigby away, lifting him off his feet and into his arms, the lycan yelping in surprise as he's carried swiftly to the naked mattress of the stripped bed.

Damian has him pinned down, hands curled around his wrists, right below his iron shackles and oh does this do things to Bigby, very sensual things.

The flagellant gives the green veins under his palm a firm squeeze before moving higher, intertwining their fingers in a suffocating tangle.

He leans down for a kiss, Bigby moaning against his mouth, erection already a painful ache against his trousers, Damian's hard muscular body bearing down on him, eclipsing his smaller frame with tantalizing pressure.

The flagellant thrusts, grinding their clothed hips, Bigby jerking, gasping, tongues meeting, sucking each other in until their drooling, mouths just as wet as their dicks, the morbid priest pulling back as they catch their breath, Bigby clenching their locked fists with all his might, nails leaving crescent marks over crimson knuckles.

“Now, where shall I start,” the priest muses, as if they weren't already sunk deep in the thick of foreplay.

The way Damian looks at him with such hunger, as if he's something so tempting he can’t resist, makes Bigby burn from the inside out.

“I might have an idea,” Bigby pants, loosening one hand to guide his partner's attention down, over the rawbone dip in his chest, the steep valley of his stomach to the bulge between his legs.

He bucks into Damian’s hand, holds it in place so he can do so again, the flagellant delighting in how eager he is for more of his touch.

“Oh yes, I see,” the flagellant twitters, following every move with carnal interest in his dark eyes.

The masochist kisses along his partner's serrated chin, down his coarse neck and the jutting bridge of his collar bone, teasing his mouth over his nipple, pinching it between his teeth all while Bigby rutts desperately against his hand.

The flagellant shifts, attempting to free them both from their self-imposed frotting, but Bigby catches him before he can get too far, needing some semblance of contact lest it all get taken away.

“Shh,” Damian reassures him, “I've got you.”

Slowly, the wolfboy stills, hesitantly allowing this, waiting to see what his partner intends to do from here, wondering why they couldn't continue on as they were.

Scarred lips trail down, nipping the skin along his chains, hands finding the rope ties around his waist, unraveling their bruising tether.

“Let me take these off,” Damian hushes, words soothing, persuasive as he slips the fabric free, “give you more.”

Bigby squeezes his eyes shut as the cellar air hits, dick so chafed and flush it looks painful, as if he's about to burst.

“Damian, please,” Bigby begs, reaching for him, tears of need collecting in his eyes.

It's then that the holy man realizes how long he's been staring, enraptured by the sight.

“Don't worry, my precious alpha, I won't keep you waiting any longer.”

Bigby feels his face flare, body going rigid, a heady shiver crawling up his skull.

An alpha? Was he worthy of such a title?

Things like pup, mutt, miscreant, beast – these insults he was used to, but never had he been bestowed the honor of alpha.

Did Damian really think so highly of him? That makes him feel good, powerful.

While the changeling sorts through the pulsing static in his head, Damian grips his cock, fingers wrapped around the base to hold it steady. Kisses are pressed to the underside of his flared tip, licking weeping flesh, enveloping it with the wet warmth of his tongue.

Bigby cries out, lost in the bliss of sensation, huffing and feverish. He's so taunt and so responsive, Damian can't help it, he does it again if only to hear him shout, make him more desperate for it.

Bigby’s savage wails grow louder, length swallowed up, pressing to the back of his lover's throat and oh what beautiful vocal cords if they could make him scream like that.

Somewhere, distantly in the back of his consciousness, he has to wonder, is this how Damian felt when he did it to him?

Only now when the werewolf is completely helpless, left unbidden, does the deviant priest do something he doesn't expect.

The flagellant lifts him up, the vagabond’s hairy legs pulled over the ridges of his lover's torn back, dangling there so the holy man can spread him wide, lick his ass.

It's a sharp change from having a pair of lips around his cock, Bigby reaching down to jerk himself off, pumping hard, the slick of spit helping to ease the friction.

“Ahhh, why did you … I was … so close,” Bigby asks through dubious gasps, though his partner doesn't supply an answer, his tongue occupied, lapping at him from the inside.

A few more strokes of the tongue, circling, plunging, driving into his core and the wolfboy can't wait, accelerating, fist fucking his erection with as much speed as he can muster.

It’s not long before orgasm takes him, striking violently, Bigby feeling entirely spent as hot pearls coat his chest, dripping down his stomach, following the afterglow.

He hardly registers anything after that, sprites dancing in his vision, pinpricks alighting his skin.

“How was it,” Damian asks, licking at his chapped lips, face a splatter of wet.

“I think … I think you know,” Bigby huffs, looking at him through the haze, face so hot it’s completely red, overrun by pleasure.

Damian smirks, carefully lowering his partner back down onto the bed, allowing him to recover while he moves to untie the knot to his robes, letting them fall slack on the bed, his straining cock rising above the round bluff of his thighs.

“What are you doing,” Bigby asks, eyes fixated on it.

“I think you know,” Damian teases back, crawling over him.

The wolfboy is still shaking from his orgasm, so overstimulated that even the slightest brush of their skin has him groaning, their members gliding along each other, the flagellant kissing at his neck again.

“Damian …”

Why is he so nervous? It's not like they haven't fucked before.

Is it because the double doors are still open? But that wasn't a concern when they started, it shouldn't be now. And it's not like they haven't been caught before either. So what is it?

The moment their eyes meet, Bigby finds his answer, the words spilling from his mouth without a second thought.

“I … love you.”

So taken by the confession, Damian pauses, gazing down at him in absolute veneration, stupendous amazement. They've said such things to each other before, but never has Bigby said it first, that is, not until today.

The holy man must remember what it means to speak, skin alight with a glorious squall of cinders.

“And I you,” the holy man breathes out, an endearing brush over a stubbled cheek, affirming that the handsome man before him is real, “so much.”

Shackled mitts pull back Damian's hood, revealing the full extent of his face, harsh features wearing the same expression as his own.

Bigby doesn't care where his mouth has been; he grabs him by the collar and yanks him down for a kiss, the romantic moment demanding it.

—

The werewolf clenches at the bookcase positioned above the bed, hot tears welling in his eyes because surely this must be what heaven feels like.

“Am I hurting you,” Damian asks, concerned for the corruption of depravity on his partner's face.

“N-no,” he cries, claws yanking against the wood grain, splintering it, cumming in the next second.

He’s panting heavily, huffing as his dick blows more splatters of milky jade all over his stomach, practically caked in it, knees bent back behind his ears.

“So fast,” Damian marvels, “You must enjoy me taking you like this.”

He grins with potent revelation, peppering kisses along the abomination's jaw, his dick still throbbing inside, but Damian waits, wanting Bigby to revel in this for as long as he can.

“Damian …,” the wolfboy pants, his body still quivering from the aftershocks, hands now wrapped around the flagellant’s arms, gripping them with the same strength he did the bookshelf.

“Damian, please …,” he doesn't know what he's begging for, perhaps for this coupling never to end.

He kisses at Bigby's temple, offering a delicate refrain, “So beautiful, all mine.”

Narrow hips give an involuntary thrust, unable to resist that captivating tug on his body, Bigby shuddering against him with a whimpering moan.

“Tell me, what does my alpha want,” the flagellant teases, breath a hot tickle, a steamy cloud over his gnarled flesh.

The priest was a carnivore in his own right, giving up control when he could just as easily take it, capturing Bigby’s heart like nothing else.

“This, just this,” the werewolf warbles out, sparing a coherent thought, wondering if it was wrong to feel so good after being tormented for so long.

“So sweet,” Damian coos, brushing locks of sweaty hair from his lover's scorched brow, “everything about you. I never want to see it change.”

He pauses all motion, mind struck with endless admiration, revering such a perfect creature, so ferocious and cute.

“Where … why did you stop,” Bigby asks dazedly, needing more despite how loose his body feels.

“It's too much,” Damian heaves, staving himself off for his partner's sake, “I can see it in your face.”

“No, no it isn't,” the vagabond pleads, tempting him with precious words, honeysuckle lips, “Come back, I need you.”

“Are you sure, you're not–”

The vagrant grabs at his lover, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, guiding him back into a rhythm, gyrating thrusts seeking friction.

“Please …”

“Ahh, B-bigby,” the flagellant moans, overcome, his partner's tight little slit made ruby red, taking him in again and again.

“I like the feeling of you, of us,” the abomination says, drunk on the vice of pleasure, “I'll gladly come a thousand more times by your hand.”

The flagellant's lungs shake, air caught in his throat as he considers the possibility. “You would want to stay with me that long?”

He sounds shocked by the discovery, Bigby nonetheless surprised whenever the holy man shows any ounce of insecurity that's so familiar a feeling to him.

“Yes,” the changeling smiles, the two lost in each other's eyes, “if you'll have me.”

“I always meant to have you,” Damian reveals, sealing their lips together, ravaging him with a feral kiss of teeth and tongue.

The more their bodies rock together, the more Bigby thinks Damian's been right all along, that there is only happiness to be found here, twin souls bound to one another by fate.

[angel-lopes2000]

ok so i was wondering. Carrie making nice sweater for brick so he wont get cold. im sure he would love it

Your wish became true! 🌻🌻🌻🌻🌻💕💕💕💕

A Friend Loves at All Times

After a party's friends last night, Brick woke up, finding that he's late from job. "Oh shit!" He thought to himself, it was like 07:00am and the local should start at 08:30am, the traffic were completely terrible that time. Brick looked to that asleep Carrie, oh how adorable she looked during the sleep - he couldn't help but giving at kiss at her cheek.

"Goodbye, love! Promise to return later." Whispered to her ear, she could feel a chill running on neck, but smiled by hearing his typical sweet-goofy tone. And grinned with a red smile around the cheeks.

And with all caring to not wake her, Brick crawled silently like a slug, feeling the coldness on floor by his fingers. "Uuugh! Looks like it would be freezy today..'' Exclaimed to himself. And in few seconds, brushed the teeths, wore some clothes, a toast with butter and drove faster as could. Roading tires for minutes, Brick looked to clock, now it miss just three minutes to arrive the doom at time.

"HEY DUDE! MOVE ON, I DON'T HAVE TIME!!" Yelled in frustration, but nothing to the traffic move, so he tried for a short cut. It worked, however, his car got an engine dysfunction: it didn't stop leaking oil, it some short smokes and one of the tires were empty because a sharp rock on way. He could call Bill the Mechanic, but he was already pretty late, so Brick didn't have choices except to push after the job. As expected, Brick was scolded by his boss and made to write down all the paperwork and followed up by screwing in all the long pipes for buildings under development.

At lunchtime, Carrie decides to call her husband and notices that, as well as having forgotten his coat, Brick hasn't taken the lunch she prepared last night.

"Hi darling!" Said the freckled girl, in the same sweet, soft tone, which was like a song to the young man's ears.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Carrie explained to him what had happened, and of course the boy apologized, but the understanding girl consoled him, saying she'd put it in the microwave so he could eat it at dinner time. And later, after all the paperwork has been done and the screws have been fixed in the pipes, Brick pushes his car to Bill's garage, and it takes more than three long hours before the car finally starts working again, and so Brick, despite dealing with a hangover, storms, a car that had broken down and all dirty and messy with sweat and mud, manages to get home.

"Bricky!" Carrie came running towards her, completely excited by her husband's arrival. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, making him blush shyly.

"Hi, princess!" Said the boy, tired and a little weak from overwork.

"Are you all right, darling?" Brick tried to hide the fact that nothing was wrong, but from the moment he started sneezing, the girl realized that the boy had caught a cold, so the blonde used her powers to carry the boy's suitcase and support him to the living room. In the living room, while Carrie went to the kitchen to prepare some medicinal tea, Brick noticed that there was a box next to her. It was pink, decorated with red roses and small white balls. Next to it, there was a letter and this letter was not ironically for Brick, which made the boy smile genuinely, even after a stressful day.

He kisses the letter and opens the package, which turns out to be a beautiful sweater, made by Carrie herself, which was due to be unveiled at Christmas. When Carrie returned, she laughed at the boy's reaction.

"Do you like the sweater, love?" He looked like a child who had just been given a new toy, the boy hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek several times, making the shy girl blush absurdly.

"You're simply the best wife in the world, darling!" Carrie couldn't help but blush again at her husband's compliments. And so, that evening ended with Carrie and Brick having a relaxing hot bath in the tub, then eating the leftovers from the previous party and watching a romantic movie in the living room, with the couple cuddling up to each other.

The End. 💕💕💕💕

[fieryncbles]

It's the kind of soft and earnest thing that slips out after hours, when the case is closed and the boys have left, leaving the two of them alone: the writer and his muse; the detective and her loyal, if self-appointed, sidekick.

Contrary to what most would think upon meeting him ( at least when it comes to speaking out loud whatever's on his heart and mind ), it doesn't come easy to Castle, saying things like that, showing his more vulnerable side.

Usually, whenever he catches it slipping through the cracks, Rick hastily covers whatever vulnerability is shown with some "macho talk" — it's a knee jerk reaction at this point.

But lately, he's found himself less and less wiling to ruin the moment, too distracted by the beauty of the smiles Beckett gives him — sometimes small, sometimes big, sometimes tired, sometimes sad, but always genuine and too beautiful for words — in response and the fact that he would never be able to translate them into words, not even with the way he has with them, to care about covering up.

Tonight is no exception as instead of making some vaguely suggestive comment that would have made her roll her eyes, Castle only smiles — small, soft, humble and proud at the same time — when he sees the tiny smile on Kate's lips, mentally punching the air for a job well done ( Kate Beckett has been a m y s t e r y to him since the moment she marched into his world and made it revolve around herself without even trying, a mystery he is self-aware enough to admit he doesn't have much hope of ever solving... and yet, every time he makes her smile feels like a step in the right directon ).

“ At this rate, I might finish it by the end of the month, ” he punctuates the due date with a lift of his eyebrows, smile so smug and yet the tone too affectionate to fool anyone, least of all detective Beckett, into thinking it's anything but a compliment to his muse ( after all, he did say she inspires him more than he has been in a very long while )... and then he gets cold feet, the compliment, the general tone of conversation too earnest for him to bear, so he follows it up with a playful comment, narrowing his eyes at her slightly as if he can see right through her ( if only ), “ Unless you want to draw out the pleasure, Detective?.. ”

@fieryncbles sent: i haven't felt like this in a very long time. (for Beckett from Castle; like this being inspired)

for all the times he'd left her frustrated and exasperated, the detective couldn't find it in herself to come up with some sharp retort or response. after all, he was still one of her favorite authors, despite the peek she had behind the curtain. and now that the big, stressful cases were mostly handled and put away, she didn't mind his excitement as much.

' so can we expect a new nikki heat novel by the end of the year? ' a tiny smile crossed beckett's lips as she leaned back on her desk.

[mingiswow]

Boyfriend!Yunho

⚠️ english is not my first language, so sorry if there's any mistake

I don’t want to be stereotypical but… big baby puppy Yunho agenda is strong

I just can’t 

He is a giant baby 

So you guys met through a mutual friend

You both went to their birthday party and you caught his attention 

Not only for being pretty but because you were so happy and excited

Talking to our friends and gesticulating happily 

Almost spilling your drink every time you made a faster move 

Your laugh made him feel all giddy and fluffy inside 

And your smile 

The killer point 

So he asked your friend if they could introduce you two 

Which they gladly did

You two got along really well 

But due to your nature, he didn’t know if you were flirting or if you had friend zoned him

and tbh you also thought he had friend zoned you lol

So after a few months of talking every day, becoming friends and even best friends, he decided to open up his feelings 

bc let’s be honest here: he was dying inside already wanting to kiss you

“I thought you had friend zoned me Yun”

“I thought you had friend zoned me” 

Laughed together at the misunderstanding 

He kissed that same day 

His kisses are ugh 

That’s all I could say to describe

It’s like your lips were made for each other

So so soft

he takes his sweet time

not wanting to rush anything

just feeling your skins touch

Molds his lips to yours 

Just like his body 

He likes to have you really close to him

So he usually traps you holding you by your waist or lower back

Wraps his arms around your body 

He has this sweet mania of playing with the little valley of your spine on your back 

Giving you chills all over your body 

Expect this dirty mf to smile between the kiss 

He just loves the reaction you have to him

But just because it only proves further that you feel just like him 

Loves to lay his head on your lap so you can play with his hair while he talks about his day 

He is a very domestic man 

So he enjoys spending time with you 

Just the two of you alone 

Doing something as mundane as talking about your jobs and lives

Oh! And when he’s done talking about his day he inverts the positions, having your head on his lap for him to play 

He 100% would learn to massage just to do it on you 

Because he knows the effects his hands have on you 🙃

But just because he likes the simplicity and security of staying home with you, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t enjoy going out 

He does 

A lot

Likes to go clubbing with you and your friends 

Takes the boys with him too

Enjoys dancing with you 

Will definitely whisper sweet nothings and dirty words in your ear so only you can hear and make you all worked up

“Don’t promise something you can’t keep”

“Who said I can’t?”

Dirty little shit

Anyways 

I feel like Yunho is the type of boyfriend that learns how to read your signs 

So he knows when you are not feeling your best or are angry or upset or anything really 

Because of the friend zone misunderstanding, you two started to communicate and talk about your feelings a lot 

Which helps so much within the relationship 

Because Yunho hates losing his head 

Which is something pretty common and easy to happen

He doesn’t look like it but he gets heated up with things pretty easily 

So it’s easy for him to lose his head over something small 

But somehow you learned how to control the beast 

It’s all about patience 

He needs his time to put it all out 

Don’t try to scream back at him because it will only get worse 

If he’s screaming and being a bitch about it give him the silent treatment 

He’ll know he fucked up and come crawling after you to apologize

Probably will try to buy you stuff to compensate

“Sorry I was such an asshole to you, I promise I’ll try not to lose my head again. Okay? Can you apologize me please?”

Showers you with love and compliments after 

Or at any day really 

Loves to show you how much he loves you 

Calls you by your nickname or a cute version of your name (like putting ~ie at the end) 

Not a fan of pet names

Unless it’s in bed

NSFW from here on ⇉ minors dni ⇇

in bed, you are his sweet little thing

his baby, his kitten, sweetie

anything he can to show how appreciative of you he is

and I can’t think of sex with him without the words size and hands flashing in neon in my head

i mean

have you seen his hands? 

and his height?

he is big 

all over iykwim

loves to tease

again: dirty little shit

he’s all about teasing and working you up

loooooves dirty talk 

but more as in a way of teasing 

a preliminary if you will

“your cute little ass looks amazing in this dress babe, if I could I’d pull him up and fuck you right here and then”

“these blue lights make you look sexy, can’t stop thinking about fucking you under them”

will absolutely moan on your ears to tease you while dancing together

don’t even need to say he’s a fan of bathroom quickies, right?

because his teasings always get him too

gets himself thinking about his own words

just pull you by your hand to the nearest bathroom stall and just fucks you there

“not a sound, kitten, we don’t want to disturb the others right?”

but if you guys are at home

he is more of a romantic guy

at least at the beginning

roam his hands all over your body

kissing your lips then your neck

has a marking kink

always leave a visible hickey on you just because

not ashamed at all

the boys will tease him and even if he gets shy, he’s also proud

like… you’re his 

and everyone knows that

remember his hands?

he knows you have a thing for them and will use it against you

god he’s so good at fingering

his long fingers always know how to find your sweet spot and the perfect pace 

while his lips are attached to your clit or penis

and his other hand inside your mouth while you suck his fingers

sex with him is always fun and quite messy

there’s your saliva in his fingers and also drooling down your chin

he makes you cum until you’re a sweating mess

likes to cum on your back or your belly

if he’s feeling adventurous will cum in your face

lowkey likes to watch you eat his cum

gives him a rush of power

he likes trying new things so don’t be ashamed to talk about your kinks with him

a big big fan of toys

has a collection of cock rings and covers (?) to use with you

also, I lowkey think he is open to trying anal

he always heard of prostate stimulation and wanted to try

he doesn’t have a favorite position

it’s more of how he’s feeling that day

talking about that

on days he’s feeling sad or down or stressed or anything like that treat him

he’ll become almost a pillow prince

suck his cock and make him whine underneath you

overstimulate him and make him cum over and over until he literally can take anymore and all he can say is thank you as you give him head, ride him or fuck his ass

overall yunho is the best 

just have patience with him and he’ll be all yours

Masterlist

requests are open

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[softguarnere]

hey there, I'm here again with a headcanon idea

Btw thank you for that soft!Joe one-shot, it's so precious 🥺

I swear I'll buy a heart locket pendant and put your works in it

so, the request:

easy boys' reaction to reader who showers them in praise regularly (basically praise kink(giving)) (but not in a smut way as you don't write nsfw)

thank you in advance ❤️

Hello again! Thank you so much, that's so sweet 🥺��� I didn't know if you wanted all the boys or just a few, so I tried to get as many as I could. It's been a while since I've had a headcanon request, so let's see if I remember how to do this . . . (This is written for the fictional depiction from the show -- absolutely no disrespect to the real life veterans!)

Dick Winters: So caught off guard at first. He admires your work ethic, so at first he's flattered that you seem to compliment his own hard work. But when he realizes how often you praise him, and for seemingly small things (in his mind, anyway) he's almost confused, because he's not really doing anything, but he also doesn't want you to stop. He likes it, but he's definitely more comfortable giving praise than receiving it

Lewis Nixon: He's not shy about how much he enjoys your praise, but he's also not cocky about it. He's not afraid to tell you how much he likes when you do it, or to ask you for it if he feels like he needs it. But at the same time, he's going to praise and compliment the hell out of you, putting you up on a pedestal, because he thinks you deserve to be treated that well, too

Ron Speirs: Tough boy. Strong boy. Doesn't seem like he cares what people say about him or like he needs validation, but he secretly craves it. So when you compliment or praise him it kind of flusters him how much he enjoys it. He can't quite meet your eye. So when you figure out how much he likes it and make it a regular thing, he has to adjust to showing you how he feels and how much he appreciates it and you in return

Carwood Lipton: Surprisingly, he's kind of averse to it at first because "I'm not really doing anything? I'm just existing, what is this?" At first he feels like he has to earn the praise he receives, but after a while he starts to get used to it. It makes him so soft. Give him a compliment for literally anything and he's just the human embodiment of the "🥺" emoji

Babe Heffron: He likes to consider himself smooth, and he is, but sometimes your praise hits him in a way that makes him feel like he's lost his footing. But when he finds it again, it's because whatever you've just said to him has given him x10 confidence. Something about you praising him makes him feel like he's on cloud nine, and he doesn't want to come down

Eugene Roe: He's not caught off guard, but he's also not super prepared for it. Give him a minute to process what you've said, and then the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles at you. He's the kind to immediately pull you in for a kiss when he takes a notion to do so, and if you keep making him feel that good, then he's going to take that notion quite a bit

Bill Guarnere: This man is such a flirt that whenever you praise or compliment him he thinks you're just being flirty and compliments you right back. It takes him a second to realize that 1) you really mean what you say to him and 2) that he really likes it. He's got a reputation to uphold, though, so when he wants you to praise or compliment him or something he's done, he'll go out of his way to do a good job because he knows what's coming

Joe Toye: Unlike most of the others, he knows that he likes to be praised (he's just not really sure how to bring it up). So when you figure it out, he's pretty happy with the situation. However, he's a gentleman, so he's determined to find out what you like so that he can make you feel good in return

George Luz: Surprisingly soft about it. You praise him for anything and his eyes soften, he gives you the sweetest smile, and it's just really cute. He doesn't intentionally go out of his way to try to earn your praise, so when you give it to him, he feels like he really deserves it, and knowing that he's made you happy just makes him really happy

Don Malarkey: Back in the Toccoa days, he would kind of play it off like the two of you were joking around, even though he really enjoyed all the praise you gave him, because it made him feel a little stronger than everyone else. After the war, he's been through a lot -- he's changed a lot -- so when you praise him for something, it hits different because it reminds him of the good ol' days, and that to you, he's still the same Malarky, and that some things never change

Shifty Powers: No matter how many compliments you give him, he can never get used to it. Even for small things, you compliment or praise him and a blush is creeping across his cheeks as he shakes his head, all flustered. He knows that this is just how you show your love and appreciation for him, but it makes him feel like the one who's lucky to have you

Joe Liebgott: Okay, hear 👏me👏out👏 Joe is a very confident guy (or at least, he likes to act that way) and he's pretty sure of himself. So the first time that you praise him for something, he's completely caught of guard as he registers what you've said, and then just completely fucking melts because holy shit, he really likes when you do that

David Webster: He likes to think that he's deserving of your praise, but something about it still makes his face go all hot and suddenly looking at you feels like staring straight into the sun. The more you do it, the more he starts to get used to it, but it never fails to make the tips of his ears turn pink and make him look away

Skinny Sisk: Depending on the mood, it either lightens his mood or has him falling in love with you all over again. Either way, he enjoys it. It's just that some days it's easier to take a compliment than others, and he's going to have to get used to it. But when he does, get ready, because he has the softest eyes and they're irresistible

Bull Randleman: He's a man who doesn't say things unless he means them, and he expects others to do the same. So when you praise him, he knows you must mean it. It never fails to make his day. He immediately just grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles

Floyd Talbert: Like Joe, he knows what he likes, but he's more confident in asking for it. However, he didn't expect you to be so good at it, or to give him so much praise. He loves it, though. And if you do it when he's not expecting it, he lets out this cute little laugh that he never really does at any other time, which is all the more reason to compliment him for anything and everything