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dreaminggirlsblog · 2 years

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I love you too Raphie - Raph x Fem!Reader

{a @samyp05 request with some changes}

Y/n was getting ready to go to Raph, her mutant boyfriend, and they planned to eat pizza together on a rooftop.

They also planned to meet first at the lair and only then would they go out to the surface.

When she was dressed, she ran out the window and down the emergency stairs so that she was in the alley behind her flat.

Out of the alley, she rounded the corner and headed for the nearest, and possibly most isolated, street with a manhole cover.

On the way, she saw Casey crossing the street to join her, having noticed her friend's presence.

"Hey Y/n!" he greeted her with a smile when he was near her, she reciprocated.

"Casey! I thought you were working at night today."

"I was, I was going to get something to eat and then I was going to the station" he explained quickly, Y/n nodded.

"What about you?"

"I was going to see the others, do you want to come along?"

"No no, thanks" he replied quickly with an embarrassed laugh, he didn't really like them since always “Hm...Why don’t you eat with me and then go to them?"

"I'd love to do but I'm going out with Raph tonight, maybe another time"

"Sure, how about tomorrow night?" proposed Casey.

“It will be perfect" she replied smiling, which was reciprocated.

The boy then looked up at a rooftop and his smile disappeared slightly and leaving Y/n confused.

"What are you-" she didn't complete the sentence and immediately turned to look in her friend's direction, looking shocked and annoyed.

A red bandana turtle, fully exposed but no one saw expect them, looked at the couple hatefully and kept his fists clenched anger.

"Oh please, not again," murmured, not too quietly, the y/h/c who immediately watched him disappear.

"I can see how your boyfriend didn't waste any time for coming after you" Casey added ironically.

"Yeah, I better follw him" she said looking foward the direction taken by the mutant but remaining facing to Casey "I'll see you tomorrow Jones"

"Alright y/l/n" greeted the brunette with a wave of his hand.

They both went their separate ways but Y/l/n started to run as not to lose her boyfriend, who she found immediately by the manhole cover on the nearest street.

"Raph" called him without receiving an answer and without being calculated.

Raph immediately entered the manhole and closed it behind him, causing the y/h/c to snort and enter shortly afterwards.

Inside the sewers, she saw him go through a pipe and quickly followed, finding herself almost immediately at the den, where she found Raph's brothers doing their thing as he walked quickly to his room.

"Raph, stop!" she shouted while she was still following him, but he wasn’t still stopping.

"Ugh, again?" complained Mikey, sitting on the couch with Leo.

"It's Raph, what are you gonna do about it?" he replied to him immediately receiving a dirty look from his brother.

"Shut up Leo" he growled before being joined by his girlfriend.

"Raph listen-" she didn't even have time to justify, or rather explain, that he immediately got angrier than before.

"So you guys are going out tomorrow?" he asked aloud.

"We're just going to grab something for dinner, but it's not a date. Raph, please-"

"I don't care if it's a date or not, he was already asking you to go tonight!" he was practically yelling by now.

"And I told him no! I think you heard him since I understand you listened to the whole conversation!" now she was yelling too.

"Yeah, I only listened to the whole conversation because I wanted to come to your flat to pick you up but apparently I found you somewhere else!"

"We met on the street! God, you couldn't have texted me!"

"I did! You're the one who didn't reply!"

"Sorry, when did you do that? Because I didn't get any-" she withdrew what she was saying when she reached for her phone and unlocked it, noticing just a message from her boyfriend.

"You didn't get it?" Raphael then asked in a swaggering tone, receiving a glare.

"Of all the things you're upset about right now, it's the only one I'd take reasonable"

"So I did write to you, but you couldn't read it as you were too busy 'chatting with your dear little best friend Casey Jones'" he replied, mimicking the inverted commas at the end.

"Look, was there ever a fucking moment I fell for him?"

Raph crossed his arms over his chest, looking away and answering slowly of 'no'.

"Great. So why can't you just stop being jealous?"

"Because you spend too much time with him!" he ranted, shrugging.

"That's not true!"

"Are fucking kidding me? Well, yesterday you went to the park for a walk with him before our movie night, last week you drove him to work before I wrote you to come here urgently because of a problem that I won't explain in front of my brothers-"

"We know what it is anyway," Donnie interjected, his eyes glued to the computer screen, embarrassing Raph.

"Anyway, you guys went to Central Park the week before and always before you came here to bring ice cream for us to eat together. Which by the way melted."

"I don't have a walk-in freezer, Raph!"

"I think there is one, it's called a cooler" Donatello interjected again, getting a dirty look from the girl.

"Thanks Donnie, it's a good thing you're here" she said ironically.

"Anyway," she turned back to the red bandanna turtle, "I spent time with both of you the same way! Didn't you notice that when you were listing all those dates?"

"You spend too much time with him anyway! And always before one of our fucking date!"

"But why should that worry you?"

"Because he's a person and I'm a fucking teenage mutant ninja turtle! That's why it should bother me Y/n!"

"Oh my God, here we go again. What more do I have to do to make you understand that I don't like someone like Casey but a mutant turtle named Raf-fa-el-lo?" she said emphasizing every syllable of his name.

"Nothing, because you're going out with that asshole anyway!"

"Stop being jealous and for once try to understand the fact that I also have friends outside of my always raging boyfriend!" she then ranted, making the situation worse.

Raphael clenched his fists in anger this time, but was intent on doing something else, nothing good.

He moved dangerously close to her ready to strike her stomach with his fist but was blocked by a red light that enveloped his hand, it was Y/n's powers.

She had promptly blocked the blow with a single hand gesture and flung him against the wall simply by moving her arm towards it.

When Raph found himself sitting on the floor with his back to the wall, his fiancée was giving him a nasty disdainful look and, without saying anything else, she hurried out of the lair.

Hot tears streamed down her face, even though she tried to show strength in the face of such a situation even though it was different from the others.

Previous fights, ended with Raph apologising for his idiotic behaviour and Y/n immediately forgiving him by kissing him.

But today it was'nt the same.

Y/n was about to cross the street, not paying the slightest attention to the red light or the distant horn that sounded the more it came up at full speed.

She didn't care though, she almost seemed to want it to run her over and end it all, and it did.

The car failed to stop in time and ran over the girl, who only fainted but found her face full of broken glass and a bloody nose.

You could call it luck that Raphael was there, that he had witnessed the scene but had done nothing, he had only arrived at the moment when the car ran over the girl.

He rushed over and picked her up, starting to panic when he noticed all the blood on her face and the broken glass scattered on it.

He didn't care if the person in the vehicle was looking at him open-mouthed and frightened, and in fact he left immediately.

With Y/n still in his arms, he ran through the sewers with anxiety rising over every little breath the girl took.

"Hold on please" he whispered a few times in a rough voice, he was almost on the verge of tears.

His mood improved a little when he glimpsed the figure of Donatello waiting for him at the entrance of the den, surely he must have seen everything from the cameras he thought.

"Y/n's hurt!" he shouted before arriving in front of the turtle with the purple bandana.

"She's hurt!" he said still inches away from him, breathing heavily.

"I can see that, give her to me," his brother replied quickly, taking it away when he had it in his arms.

Raph watched him take her to his room and became even more concerned for her, Donnie's expression didn't convince him but he knew he could cure her.

Mikey and Leo, noticing their brother still standing in the doorway with a worried look on his face, ran up to him first asking what had happened and trying to console him later.

"The only thing that can console me is knowing she's okay," he replied after several attempts by his brothers.

"We know Raph but Donnie's been trying for a while" Mikey repeated sadly to him.

He was right, it had been a long time that Donatello had been cooped up in that room with Y/n and so it made his anxiety rise more than before.

Thankfully though, he came out after a short while with a huge smile on his face and infected Raph as well who, after hugging him and thanking him, went into his room.

He found Y/n lying on her training bench, she seemed to be waking up for the fact that she was moving all the time.

He cautiously walked over and sat on the floor, very close to the bench and without taking his eyes off her.

Y/n was looking away trying to focus on where she was and what had happened.

"What happened?" she asked lightheartedly in a whisper.

"You got run over," the turtle began to explain making her jolt, she hadn't expected anyone to be with her, "and I brought you here to the lair after it happened."

She didn't answer, she just looked at him waiting for an apology, which Raph could read in her red eyes from crying.

He took a long breath and threw it all out "I know, I'm a complete idiot. I know, I shouldn't be jealous of you and Casey. I know, you don't like Casey. I know, I have to trust you. Sorry, I shouldn't have thought for a second about hitting you and maybe if I had I wouldn't have felt better."

"Indeed" she murmured, lowering her gaze and twiddling her thumbs.

"I don't deserve to be loved by someone like you" the turtle added, crying.

Y/n looked up suddenly, watching her boyfriend cry for the first time and in front of her, it almost seemed strange but she smiles in front of that scene.

"Raph you're crying," she said in a soft voice, also on the verge of tears.

This one nodded, quickly wiping away a tear "I never thought I'd do this or admit it in front of anyone but really I'm so sorry."

The girl smiled again and she immediately hugging him, sinking her face into his shoulder and crying silently.

Raphael was surprised at first but then returned the hug by taking her head, stroking her hair, and crying softly.

"I forgive you," whispered Y/n making the turtle smile slightly.

"I love you babe" he exclaimed from joy.

"I love you too Raphie"

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Words count: 2019

Sorry for the errors and the english.

I hope you like that version!<3

#raphael #raph x reader #bayverse raph #raph #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #dreaminggirlsblog requests

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animereaderinsertwriter · 3 years

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Cupbearer (Eren/Reader)

Part III

Part I

Part II

Part IV (in progress)

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT (im watching you, if you see this, begone!), vampire!eren, hunter!reader, fem!reader, smut, some amount of predator/prey dynamics but only kinda?? there is also a significant age difference but only cos eren is immortal and all that jazz. we're all adults here. there will eventually be smut.... and do i really need to say that there's gonna be blood in a vampire fic?

Description: A story of falling in love in 4 parts.

Eren is a bad man (well, a bad Creature) who has done bad things. When he meets the great-great-great granddaughter of one of his former friends in his favorite blood bar, however, he thinks it might not matter so much what happened in the past, so long as he can make the future something worth living to see.

Ao3 link here

After that night, it became increasingly hard for (Y/N) to leave, and for Eren to let her do so.

Something between them had changed. There were moments— when Eren would press feather-light kisses against her forehead, when he would casually leave a cup of her favorite tea where she would find it— where (Y/N) felt as though her heart might burst. It was all the little things that baffled her, all the ways in which he seemed to understand exactly how she felt; it was as though he knew her more than she knew herself. On the mornings that she would wake in his bed, sleepy and sticky and wholly content, (Y/N) wondered what it would be like to have this life forever.

Other days— on days like today— she was reminded exactly why that could never be, and it broke her heart.

Today, they had planned a romantic dinner in the park, an evening under the stars. It was supposed to be something special, a little getaway just for the two of them; they had wanted to leave as soon as (Y/N) was relieved from her patrol, so Eren had moved her things to his place, hoping that they could leave together from there for their evening alone.

In and of itself, that was fine… but when (Y/N) came in, covered head-to-toe in viscous Creature blood, Eren was furious.

“And you call me a monster,” he growled, looking her up and down with hate in his eyes. “I can’t believe you.”

He stood from his seat on the sofa, and (Y/N) began to back away, still wary from the fight she had narrowly escaped from unscathed. Her every instinct told her that she should run, fire a round of silver bullets into his chest, but she steeled herself, doing neither.

“It’s not my fault— they were attacking a civilian,” she told him as he stalked towards her, his face twisted into a horrific scowl. “I tried to stop them— tried to find out what was going on— but then they came at me with their claws, and I was left with no choice.”

“There is always a choice,” he snarled, and it was then that anger filled (Y/N) from the soles of her feet to the crown of her head. "They were probably terrified of you— how could you possibly blame them for lashing out?"

(Y/N) grit her teeth.

“This, from the man who thought genocide was his only option to the same problem?”

Eren made a low, warning sound in the back of his throat, but (Y/N) pressed on.

“You would rather me have died?” she demanded, stepping into his space. “Would it have pleased you more for my body to bleed out on the pavement, ripped to shreds by an aggressive werewolf? Would you even care, or would you just find the next blood bag and move on with your life?”

“Maybe so,” he shot back, “Then I wouldn’t have to deal with your insufferable mouth.”

That stung— but if there was one thing (Y/N) knew how to do, it was to strike back twice as hard as she had been struck.

“Fine then,” she said, turning on her heel. “I won’t bother you any longer. I’ll go out and find someone who actually wants my company, someone who’ll fuck me good and proper over the counter at some hole-in-the-wall bar over on Easy Street, someone younger, with a nicer cock and less fucking baggage— ”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence, or even walk a single step further— Eren grabbed her by the hair and pulled her to him, his fist painfully tight against her scalp.

“Wanna say that again, to my face?” he asked, tilting her head back.

“I’ll go find someone else to fuck me,” she spat, struggling in vain against him. “I’ll spread my legs for the next available schmuck in the closest bar I can find, so you can hear me scream his name and not yours.”

It was a low blow, to threaten a vampire’s claim on something they had previously assumed had belonged to them, but (Y/N) didn’t care. She had almost died today, and she’d be damned if she was going to take shit from anyone about what she had to do to survive. If Eren wanted a fight, she would damn sure give him one.

“Like hell you will,” he told her, pulling her head back so that she had to strain to remain standing. “You’re mine. Flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood— you are my Companion.”

"I belong to no one!"

Those words ripped from her throat and echoed throughout the empty house, and it was then that Eren stopped, looking at her with calculation in his gaze.

"You're right," he said, releasing her hair. "No mortal can serve two masters, lest they love one and despise the other; an archaic religious concept, but an accurate one nonetheless. You've made it abundantly clear where your loyalty lies. I was a fool for thinking otherwise."

(Y/N) began to tremble. "Eren, what are you saying?"

"I release you from our pact," he replied coldly, his eyes so dull and lifeless that it sent a chill down her spine. "No longer are you bound to be my wine-press— I free you from me."

"Eren—"

"Go," he commanded, and (Y/N) felt terribly, horribly empty.

Once, he would have told her to come freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness she brought him; now, he gave her a cold dismissal, and it frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Still, she went, feeling hollow and used, and she didn't bother to shut the door behind her as she turned to walk home, weary from the day and sick from fighting.

***

Armin had lived for a very long time, but even so, he had yet to meet anyone so foul of temper as Eren when the Hunger was on him.

"Eren, you have to feed."

The vampire, as ill in health as in temper, glared weakly at him. "I'm not hungry."

"But you are Hungry, and don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. Look, if this is about that girl—"

"I told you not to speak of her!"

Ah, so it was about her. By the looks of him, it had been two weeks since Eren had fed; Armin would bet that he hadn't seen her in the same amount of time.

"If I need to, I'll drag her here to make up with you myself," said Armin testily, "I refuse to watch my best friend starve himself because he refuses to feed on anyone else."

"You will not touch her."

Armin rolled his eyes, but didn't say anything further. He just patted Eren's arm in farewell and set about finding the little lady who was the root cause of his current consternation.

It took longer than Armin had anticipated to find the young woman who had, for all intents and purposes, completely unraveled Eren's composure; her scent, while thick and memorable in Eren's apartment, was hard to track otherwise. Armin spent two hours just wandering the city while trying to catch a breath of it here or there, and when he finally did manage to catch a whiff of her scent and follow it to her, he understood exactly why it had been so hard to track her down.

The girl was a Hunter, of all things.

When Armin found her, she was knee-deep in sewage, her knife embedded to the hilt in the skull of what appeared to be some species of winged reptile. Armin, having been a tad desperate and not actually having been expecting to find anything when he lifted the lid to the man-hole on 32nd and Main, was surprised to say the least— and when (Y/N) ripped her knife free and readjusted her stance into a defensive one directed at him, his surprise turned to intrigue.

“Er, hello there,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t suppose you’ll take my word for it that I just want to chat, will you?”

Curiously, the words gave the woman pause. She relaxed her stance ever-so-slightly, and then her eyes lit up with recognition.

“Armin Arlert?” she queried, craning her neck up to see him. “Is that you?”

This one grows curiouser and curiouser, he thought, but responded affirmatively.

“Can you give me a bit, then?” she asked, kicking the corpse of the Creature she’d just killed. “I’m not exactly fit for company. Perhaps we could meet later for a discussion over tea?”

“I’m afraid it’s urgent,” he said as she knelt to decapitate her prey— likely for proof of victory. “I think you know why I’m here, so you understand that time is of the essence.”

She didn’t look up at him as she replied.

“If this is about Eren, then I don’t have time to talk.”

Her tone was hard, bitter, and matter-of-fact, and it reminded Armin so much of Jean that it hurt… but just like Jean, Armin would bet that she could be won over by appealing to her inherent sense of human decency

“He’s suffering (Y/N),” he said, awkwardly crouching above the manhole so that she could better see the truth written in his eyes. “He won’t feed.”

“That’s hardly my problem.”

And oh, how well Armin knew that state of mind. If there was one thing Eren Jaeger knew how to do, it was push away the people who loved him most. Armin had dealt with that particularly lovely quirk of his for centuries, and it never got easier to deal with no matter how much time passed. If anything, it got more difficult the older they both got.

“When you’re the solution to a problem, you become a part of it whether you like it or not,” Armin replied, patient and understanding. “He cares for you.”

(Y/N) looked up at him then, fury in her eyes.

“He hurt me.”

Armin shrugged. “He hurts everyone he cares about. It’s just who he is. Nothing comes for free— least of all the love and loyalty of someone as old and as powerful as Eren.”

“Your heart may be toughened to his meanness,” she told him, the head of the creature she’d slain in her hands, “But mine is not, and I don’t like him well enough to willfully remain for him to use as an emotional punching bag.”

At that, Armin couldn’t help but let loose a wry grin.

“No,” he said, “I should think not; but I do think you love him well enough to make sure he doesn’t starve himself to death because he can’t have you.”

(Y/N) was silent for a long moment, then she crossed her arms.

“I won’t come crawling to him. He’s going to have to come to me.”

Armin grimaced. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation.

“Is that at all negotiable?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not.”

Well, there was nothing for it.

“And you will let him feed if he comes to you?”

(Y/N) thought, then nodded. “If he proves himself deserving.”

Armin couldn't help himself; he laughed. Eren might have met his match in this one.

"Very well. I'll work my magic, and you work yours."

She nodded and bade him farewell, but before Armin left, he paused.

"Hey, (Y/N)?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

With that, he left her, ready to take Eren by the ear and throw him at her if he had to.

***

(Y/N)'s heart was racing as she opened the door, knowing good and well who would be behind it.

After her little talk with Armin— and the near heart attack he had given her in the process— she had called in to Zeke and told him she needed to go home to deal with an emergency. A replacement for her patrols had been sent, and she had come home to wash the grim from her skin, making herself as presentable as possible with the time she had. (Y/N) was worried, so worried, that the filth she had been wading in earlier would have left a lingering stench, or even that it had affected the taste of her; she had scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was raw, hoping to erase every last remnant of her day from her skin…but as it turned out, she needn't have bothered.

Two, three, four hours later, and Eren hadn't shown— it was only now, right at the six hour mark, that he had decided to come to her.

Needless to say, (Y/N) was… less than pleased, but when she opened the door to find Eren pale and drawn, with dark circles beneath his eyes, her heart softened ever-so-slightly. It seemed that Armin was right; he had been suffering.

"You look like shit," she told him quietly, opening her door widely to let him in.

"I assure you, I feel worse," Eren grumbled, but stepped in as she closed the door behind him.

For a long, awkward moment, they just looked at each other, silent and unsure. It was unsettling how unlike himself Eren seemed; he was almost soft when he looked at her, and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel about it. Eventually, though, like two opposite ends of a magnet, they were drawn together, and Eren brushed a piece of hair back from her face.

"Hi," he said, his voice low and rough. (Y/N) caught his hand in hers before it could fall from her hair, and she pressed it against her chest, keeping it trapped there, touching the skin above her beating heart.

"Hey."

They watched each other a moment more before the dam broke between them, and they both spoke at once.

"I'm sorry."

A shared grin, a shy laugh— and then (Y/N) said what they both were thinking.

"You need to feed first, and talk later," she told him, her hand still clasped in his. "You're not off the hook, but I doubt we can have any real conversation with you like this."

Eren nodded gratefully, tugging at her wrist— his usual biting spot— but (Y/N) shook her head, indicating her neck. The thickest, richest blood, she knew, would come from there; and if there was ever a time to be generous with the placement of Eren's bite, she figured that it would be now.

The worst of it was over quickly. There was a brief sting at the intrusion of razor-sharp fangs, and then the vaguely uncomfortable feeling of having something poking down into places that decidedly should not be poked at all, but then (Y/N) quickly eased into the rhythm of the act, focusing wholly on the way Eren's lips felt against her skin. In a few moments, she would become pleasantly light-headed, and then Eren would pull away and look at her like she'd hung the stars. Oh, how she'd missed that look! (Y/N) found herself longing for it even before she quite realized it.

And then, without warning, a vision came, and (Y/N) was swept into another world entirely.

The evening sky rolled endlessly out towards the horizon; it seemed to go on forever, sparkling with more stars than (Y/N) had ever seen before. The full moon was so bright that it cast the whole world in what seemed like silver sunlight, and (Y/N) wondered how anyone could sleep on a night such as this. It was far too beautiful an experience to miss.

Alongside her— alongside Eren, through whose eyes she saw the world— strode Armin and two older-looking cadets who she recognized from previous memories as Reiner and Berthold. Eren was feeling anxious over something, and Reiner and Berthold were… well, they were kind. Reiner especially seemed to be like an older brother, and Eren admired him.

"You'll do just fine tomorrow," said Reiner, placing a large, warm hand on Eren's shoulder. "I'm certain of it."

The memory ended, and (Y/N) came back to herself as Eren's tongue laved over the wounds his fangs had left in her neck, sealing them.

"See anything?" he asked, his breath warm against her skin, and (Y/N) nodded.

"You loved them, too," she said softly, remembering the fondness Eren had felt as though it had been her own. "You loved the Hunters that tried to take everything from you, and— and I think they loved you, too."

Eren pulled away from her, and it was then that she saw the tears shining in his eyes.

"Yes," he replied, his voice broken. "We were children. How could we not love each other as God intended? Hate was never in our nature; it was an inheritance that we couldn't escape."

He paused for a moment, then spoke again.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I lost my temper. I forget— I forget that you're not them."

And (Y/N) understood. She understood that no matter how many centuries passed, there would be wounds that just wouldn't heal for Eren. He would lash out at things that wouldn't make sense to anyone who hadn't experienced the horrors of war as he had. Suddenly, she felt petty for having lashed out as she had, and guilt threatened to rise up and choke her.

"You're forgiven," she replied, leaning into his touch. "It takes two to tango— I shouldn't have baited you like I did. I knew how badly that would hurt you, and that's exactly why I said it."

At that, Eren cracked a grin.

"I expect nothing less from a Kirschtein. Your grandfather would have punched me square in the jaw— and as big as that bastard got when we were older, he probably would have put me on my ass."

(Y/N) couldn't help but laugh, and Eren joined her, their combined joy swelling until there was nothing else in the world but their happiness.

How they started kissing, neither one of them would be able to say afterwards, but in the grand scheme of things, it hardly mattered. Their love was too large to contain, too much to hold back— and it was love, (Y/N) realized, though she hadn't quite put words to it yet. She loved Eren Jaeger, a Creature, a monster, as much as her grandfather before her had and more. She loved him with a desperation that felt like being knocked over by an ocean wave and plunged into depths where her feet no longer touched the sand. She loved him more than she had ever loved anyone before.

And, as he placed her gently on her bed that was barely big enough for two, divesting himself of his shirt above her, (Y/N) thought that maybe she didn't mind it so much as long as he loved her in return.

"I missed you," said Eren, dropping kisses by her ear as he unhooked her bra. "I missed this."

"Me too," she gasped as his mouth wandered to her nipple, her hands fisting in his hair. "Oh, God, I missed you too."

The time for words was soon gone, however; Eren's sinful, sinful mouth traveled lower and lower until he was kissing at the insides of her thighs, parting them to access what lay between, and (Y/N) threw her head back as he spread her open with his hands and sucked brazenly at her clit.

How long he spent there, worshipping her sex, (Y/N) had no idea; all she knew was that she came once from his mouth on her and a second time from his fingers inside her, and when he finally, mercifully withdrew, she was broken down to the simplest parts of herself; there was nothing left but an affection so deep that it threatened to overtake her if she didn't let it out, and she did the only thing she knew to do to release the overwhelming pressure that was building in her chest as Eren pushed his big, veiny cock into her.

She told him what she should have said a long time ago.

"Oh, Eren," she gasped as his cockhead shoved deep inside her. "I love you."

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Eren went unnaturally still. He looked at her with pupils blown wide inside emerald eyes, and his fangs slightly distended; in any other situation, (Y/N) might have laughed at how surprised he seemed, but it seemed as though she were frozen in time, unable to do anything but stare earnestly up at them, hoping he understood how much she cared for him.

"You… what?"

"I love you," she repeated, her body moving without her permission to roll her hips up into him, moving his cock even further inside her. "Please, Eren, I need—"

He cut her off with a forceful, bruising kiss, and his hips started making slow, deep thrusts inside her, her legs hiked up over his shoulders.

"Again," he said against her lips."Say it again."

"I love you."

Another thrust or two, a hand circling her wounded throat.

"Again."

"I love you, Eren."

"Again."

This time, it was only a whisper.

"I love you," she said, and Eren began fucking her in earnest.

"You are so fucking beautiful," he told her as he thrust hard and deep inside her. "You're every man's dream, a nirvana the damned such as myself were never meant to reach. (Y/N), you are everything, and I—"

He seemed to choke on the words, and (Y/N) kissed him as he tried to regain his composure.

"I don't deserve you," he said, shaking with the force of their passion. "I don't deserve your love."

It's not about deserving, she wanted to say, It never was, but then she was coming again, her climax contracting her walls around her lover, and it was all she could do to remain conscious as Eren fucked her relentlessly through it all, chasing his own high.

It was only later, after a shower and something to eat that they finally spoke again. They were back in bed, and Eren's arm was wrapped around her, as though he were afraid to let her go for even a moment; truthfully, (Y/N) thought he was asleep, but then his breath tickled her ear as he said,

"I love you, angel."

And that, (Y/N) thought, had been worth it all, in the end.

#aot x y/n #aot x reader #aot #aot fanfiction #eren x reader #vampire!eren jaeger #aot smut

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riseofthespacecats · 3 years

Text

RISE OF THE SPACE CATS

An Eddsworld Fan-Script: Part 8

OUTSIDE - DARK ALLEY

TOM drags his feet across the ground. He's wobbly, eyes flickering, hands on his head.

Two SUITED FIGURES appear. One pointing a GUN at him.

TOM bares his teeth - sharp.

TOM

Get away from me! I have a hangover and and, uh... A mean backhand.

FIGURE 1

Wait, he's not one of them.

FIGURE 2 lowers their gun.

FIGURE 2

Have you been bitten?

TOM

Recently? Why, you planning to have a go?

FIGURE 2 raises their gun again.

TOM

No! No I haven't been bitten!

FIGURE 1

Come with us.

The two FIGURES walk away. TOM watches them and groans, then follows.

They enter a DRAIN and climb down into the SEWERS. TOM raises an eyebrow, then climbs after them, gagging at the smell.

THE SEWERS

TOM squints through the darkness. A MATCH is lit, illuminating Several people, huddled in a makeshift hideout. Including-

TOM

The mayor? What are you doing here?

THE MAYOR

Can't a man hide- I mean, protect his valued constituents?

TOM

Uh-huh. So your plan is to stay down here, learn martial arts and eat pizza?

SURVIVOR (who is April O’Neil)

No! We're also here to skateboard.

She does a sick flip with a pizza slice in hand.

TOM

Oh, neat!

THE MAYOR

It's safe down here, any infected get thrown into the water, and the only other people here besides us are those guys.

He points to a bundle of sleeping CLONES covered in raw sewage.

TOM

Huh.

FIGURE 1

But we're also here to find a way...

FIGURE 1 and 2 both remove their HELMETS, revealing themselves to be KIM and KATYA.

FIGURE 1/KIM

To escape the zombie plague!

TOM

Wait, I thought you two would be dead.

KATYA

Why would we be dead?

TOM

Dead lesbian syndrome, I guess.

KIM

We're past being problematic representations of queer women. We're community activists, and we're going to rescue all these people.

The other survivors nod.

TOM

Yeah? How.

KIM

We...

She gestures to a WALL OF WEAPONS.

KIM

Have amassed an extensive armory to protect us.

TOM gasps. He's completely entranced. He reaches over to touch, laughing, lovestruck.

KATYA slaps his hand away.

KATYA

No.

TOM

But-

Katya shakes her head.

TOM

Why not?

KIM

We can't trust you. You don't exactly have a good reputation with weapons.

TOM

Sure I do! I get a weapon, and then I use it to hurt someone. That's what they're for.

KIM and KATYA look at each other, unimpressed.

TOM

Okay, maybe that sounded bad. But think of it this way, I know how to use a gun.

KATYA

So do I.

TOM

Okay, sure, but I also... Hm. I can. Uh. Hm. Well, you should give me a gun.

KIM

How about you help us with something else...

CUT TO

KIM, KATYA and TOM all poke their heads out of a MANHOLE. ZOMBIES lurch around them. On the other sie of the road is an abandoned BUS.

KIM

We need to get to that bus. Someone needs to go out there, to sacrifice themself as a noble hero, and grant us safe passage to escape.

KATYA

Someone who has no close friends, no living family, someone who maybe everyone kinda hates.

They both stare at TOM.

TOM

Ooooh ho ho ho, no. No way.

An adorable little girl approaches TOM from below in the sewer.

ADORABLE LITTLE GIRL

Please sir, won't you help us?

TOM frowns.

OUTSIDE - STREET

The ADORABLE LITTLE GIRL is thrown across the street, screaming. She lands among the ZOMBIES, who immediately pile onto her.

TOM grabs KIMS gun and shoots at the ZOMBIES. KIM and KATYA watch in horror.

TOM

There you go. Solved your problem. Now we can all get the hell out of here.

CUT TO

The BUS drives away, leaving TOM on the side of the road.

TOM

Hey! You can't leave me here! I saved your lives! Come back!

The BUS turns around...

And splashes a puddle on him as it drives away. TOM is drenched.

TOM

Screw you guys! I hope the wheels on your bus go round and round into a ditch!

He looks down. His trainers are stained brown.

TOM

Ugh, not the checker-print!

TOM'S eyes turn purple. He grips his head and hunches over. His body is changing - becoming inhuman!

TOM

What is- wrong with me?

BOOM!

TOM turns, just in time to see a CAR flying towards him, flung by the force of the explosion. It's shadow covers him-

The CAR crashes directly onto him, windows shattering, alarm beeping.

Beat.

The MONSTER bursts through, howling in anger. It sets its sight on the explosion and leaps across the city.

#eddsworld #eddsworld au #ew kim #ew katya #kim and katya #rise of the space cats #ew rotsc #update

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saundraswriting · 3 years

Text

Missed Signals Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Reki might have a problem. He gets hyperfixated. He is too loud. He has a delayed sleep schedule. He forgets to eat and drink sometimes. He zones out a lot, and even more when he tries to pay attention. He fidgets with his hair and his clothes and his skin to the point of injury. His brain works, sometimes. Other times he has to fight it. He has learned to cope enough over the years but just like everything else, some days are better than others.

WARNINGS: Nothing too grand, descriptions of ADHD symptoms,

NOTES: I am trying to cope with what I am thinking is undiagnosed ADHD by projecting onto my favorite characters. I mean no harm and no offense.

Ao3 // Missed Signals Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Next Chapter

With the sound of the last bell, Reki and Langa tore off to the skate park. They had just finished mid terms. Both boys were lookin forward to the three day weekend. They both missed going to 'S' and the skate park and even Joe's place, trying to studying as much as possible. Langa was still terrible with his Japanese and Math even though he was getting better. Reki's English and Biology scores were dismal, but he seemed to be scoring consistently well on his other tests.

"Hey, Langa, Reki! Over here!" Joe called. "Long time no see." The four other skaters were standing near a bench in the skate park all seeming to wait for the two high schoolers.

"Joe! Cherry!" Reki's bright grin was visible to them from the entrance.

"Shadow! Miya!" Langa was a little more subdued in his greater but no less enthusiastic.

Both boys felt a weight shift off their shoulders at the presence of their friends. They were really finished with midterms, they had three days to hang out and skate with each other. Their week of hard work seemed to finally pay off.

"Hello there, boys. How did midterms go?" Cherry asked. He was dressed in his robes but had his hair up.

"I think we did okay. It helps that we struggle in different subjects. I am glad we decided to take the days to review things." Reki said.

"It was a smart idea to use past test to study off of, instead of just notes. Your notes are also so lacking but you do so well on the tests." Langa commented absently as he bent to retie his shoe.

"What do you mean?"' Joe asked Langa. They all watched as Langa fiddled with his shoelaces.

"Oh. Um. Reki often forgets his homework or his notes are very scattered. Rarely does he remember his homework and take good notes. But he scores high on his tests. I even overheard the teachers discussing that if he applied himself and did his homework and took better notes Reki easily could be a top student." At the second mention of his name, Reki stopped looking at his phone and came back to the conversation, glancing at Langa who was sighing at his shoe.

"Langa, your aglet is broken. You'll need new laces. but for now I think some tape will do." Reki said. Everyone looked at him confused. "What? The thing on the end of your laces is called an aglet. It is derived from old French meaning 'needle' or 'pin' designed for lacing shoes or bags easier. Originally they were for ornamental reasons." Reki rattled off unprompted into the silence. His face grew pink at the attention of the others.

"Reki, why do you know that?" Miya asked.

"I had a period of time where I customized shoes for people. I liked how different it was from doing a board. I could show off my art skills better and helped steady my hand a bit more." Reki shrugged, not seeing the big deal.

"You know the old French origins of a part of a shoe no one cares about but you can't be bothered to learn English?" Cherry demanded.

Reki shrugged again, rubbing the back of his neck, embarrassment evident. "I don't mean to not do it. I sit down and I get ready to do it but then my mind blanks. Sometimes I can force myself but then I am frustrated quickly and easily irritated. Sometimes I work on it at school but then my notes are shitty." Reki rubbed his forehead, voice hard. "Sometimes the lights are too bright. Sometimes my brain says no to English but yes to physics and even sometimes my brain says no to everything and I just sit there telling myself all the things I need to do but it is all too much and not enough." Reki's hands begin to shake, while Joe and Cherry share a look over his head.

"Skating is the only thin that helps. But when I skate I give up time that I could be studying or working on the homework. I don't mean to be bad at school, just sometimes I can't help it." Reki seemed to curl in on himself, drawing his shoulders up and ducking his head down. His voice grew small and weak.

"Reki we didn't mean to make you upset. We were just curious. You aren't the only person that has issues organizing their thoughts or staying focused. Has this been an issue for a while?" Cherry gently asked. Reki seemed to relax when the group stayed quiet, seeming to expect derogatory comments.

"I think I began noticing in my second year of middle school." Reki spoke to the ground, unable to look at anyone in the eye. Langa could see his muscles tensing, sensing Reki's desire to bolt.

"That is enough of that. We came here to skate. Let's skate." Joe broke the tension seeming to sense Reki's urge to flee.

"Yes! I have something I want to show you slimes." Miya skated off after joe towards the halfpipe, throwing taunts over his shoulder as he went. Reki and Lana flew after him, throwing their own teasing comments at Shadow, who deemed himself the adult supervisor of the rowdy children.

Cherry and Joe hung back a bit, watching them all tear off. The previous conversation still lingering in the air. Both adults tracking a brightly laughing Reki as he skated around Miya and Langa.

"Poor kid. That must be so frustrating. He tried to make it out like it was no big deal but even if he learned some coping mechanisms, they won't work all the time if he doesn't know what the source of the problem is." Cherry said.

"He won't. He isn't self aware enough to know that he even has symptoms. He seems to have an executive dysfunction though." Joe said, thinking back to his high school days, where everything was too much and not enough, the days of skating until the small hours to hopefully be able to focus, the cooking and baking he did to keep from tearing things apart.

"Maybe we can help him? Maybe if we play our cards right he will even let us. He is so smart, it must be terrible to be stuck in your own head like that." Cherry said, finally picking up his board. Joe followed suit.

"The hardest part is the executive dysfunction. You need and want to do the thing but because you're frontal cortex didn't develop fully you completely freeze and your brain checks out and you are worthless all day. No one else can really get it unless they know. It is hard to explain it to neurotypicals." Joe tried to explain to the best of his abilities. Cherry nodded and made a mental note to research neurotypicals and neurodevelopment disorders.

The two adults finally made it over to see everyone was in the middle of a trick imitating game. Miya was keeping the tricks to a lower difficulty than normal so Reki wouldn't get to disheartened Joe noticed. Langa was doing pretty well, some of the more subtle footwork tripping him up since he wasn't a long term veteran. They skated for a few more hours before finally taking a water break. They were leaning against the fence or the bench or even each other in Reki and Langa's case. Langa had his full attention on Reki as he lectured on another topic, Cherry wasn't sure but it seemed to be about the manhole covers in the streets.

"They have to be round cause any other shape will fall in when turned upright. It is to save the people who are in the pipe below it." Reki was saying. Langa soaked up every word, and Cherry almost felt sorry for how gone the kid was for Reki.

"Honestly kid, why do you know that?' Joe said, looking just as interested. Cherry could only sigh and hope he wasn't as readable on how gone for his idiot gorilla.

"I collect interesting facts. I like to keep them in my brain, never know when you need them." Reki said. Joe just smiled down at the young man, fondly.

"Of course you do, kid. Of course you do."

#saundraswriting #sk8 the infinity #renga #reki kyan x langa hasegawa #adhd!reki #Domestic Sk8 family #matcha blossom

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ankewehner · 4 years

Photo

[ID: Tweet by @ClipperChip:

C'mon @CyberpunkGame, of all the bugs, this is the worst! There may be some canon reason why German manhole covers are used in Night City. But, please, DIN B125 is only allowed approved for pedestrian walkways. On roads, it should be a Begu D400 to support the weight!

Screenshot from Cyberpunk 2077 showing a round manhole cover on an asphalt street. Among the writing that is part of the edge, there is the number B 125 if you zoom in in the back at the source. The white middle line on the asphalt around the manhole cover and on the manhole cover align correctly. /end ID]

Source: https://twitter.com/ClipperChip/status/1337289319988473856

In the thread people explain that B125 manhole covers are rated only up to 12.5 tonnes of weight, so they are only allowed on walkways or in places lika garages where only regular cars can go, while D400 Manhole covers are rated up to 40 tonnes, and thus can whithstand trucks, too.

Others also explain that German manhole covers have a groove and lip that means they are aligned the same every time.

#German humour #humour #cyberpunk 2077 #norms

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pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Samson/f!Hawke angst and smut: Hurt

You know how Hawke's LI shows up at the mansion to comfort them after Leandra's death? This chapter shows how Samson does his best to comfort @schoute‘s distraught and dysfunctional Roman Hawke. 😭

Just to be on the safe side, I’m going to call this chapter dubcon. Very mild dubcon, though, I think. The usual tags apply for these two: some BDSM tones, pain kink, some spanking this time, and rough sex.

Also, CW for addiction issues - alcohol for Romie, and lyrium for Sammyboi. 😭

~8300 words; read on AO3 instead.

********************

- ROMAN -

Roman’s throat was sore.

It was the screaming. She knew that was why her throat was hurting, and why it tasted like blood. At least the blood she was tasting was her own and not this sick fucker Quentin’s, thanks to Anders’s quick thinking.

Anders lowered his hands with a sigh. His barrier disappeared, and the suspended haze of blood that the barrier was holding back spattered to the ground.

Roman curled her lip at the blood. It was all that remained of what had once been Quentin’s heart and rib cage. Fenris has nothing on me, she thought viciously, and she spat on the puddle of blood.

“Maker,” Anders said softly.

She rounded on him, prepared to tell him off if he said one fucking word about the irony of her using blood magic to kill the blood mage who’d killed her mother, but he wasn’t looking at her; his eyes were on the body crumpled on the ground — the body wearing the wedding dress.

The body that was not her mother.

Roman didn’t look at the body. She stared at the pool of blood on the floor and tried to ignore the nauseating thrumming of her heart. Two seconds ago, that thrum had been a loud and roaring beat: a bloody beat in her ears and on the inside of her left forearm where she’d drawn her power from. But that beat was gone now, leaving her with a faint and familiar sting of pain on the inside of her arm where she’d drawn her own blood, and an all-too familiar heavy ache in her chest that matched the ache from when Father and Bethany—

No, she thought viciously. No, no, she wasn’t going to sink into this pit again, not again. It was too awful and it hurt too much, and she hadn’t been able to prevent it no matter how fucking hard she tried…

“Hawke,” Aveline called.

She forced herself to look at Aveline, who was kneeling with Anders beside the body that was not Leandra Hawke. “What?” she said.

“She’s still alive,” Aveline said.

Roman’s entire body froze. She stared wordlessly at Aveline, whose expression made it clear that Leandra might be alive right now, but not for long.

She stood there like a fucking golem until Varric came to stand in front of her. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Are you–”

“I’m fine,” Roman said automatically. Then she forced her wooden feet to approach the limp body in the wedding dress.

She knelt in front of the body, and her stomach roiled. Quentin had stolen her mother’s face. Her mother’s face on this haphazard puzzle of other women’s bodies…

A pulse of rage throbbed in her ears, so scorching and sudden that it was disorienting. Then Leandra’s mouth moved to speak. “You came,” she rasped, and then she seemed to run out of air.

“Of course I came,” Roman said. She brushed a stray lock of hair from her mother’s face. “You went missing, for fuck’s sake. Of course I fucking came.”

Leandra winced at Roman’s rough language, and the expression was so very much her mother that Roman’s entire chest seemed to seize. Slowly and painfully, Leandra drew a breath into the lungs that didn’t belong to her, and Roman tensely waited for her mother to speak again.

“Don’t be angry, love,” she whispered. “I’ll be all right. Don’t be angry.”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman burst out. “How can you tell me not to be angry? Look what he fucking did to you!”

Leandra didn’t reply. Her eyes were vacant and unfocused, and with a lightning bolt of shock, Roman realized that she was dead.

She sat there for a long moment without moving or breathing. Then Varric touched her shoulder. “Hawke–”

She flinched from his hand and shoved herself to her feet. “Don’t touch me,” she said.

Anders stood up with her, and Aveline lifted the body into her arms as she rose. “I’ll take her to the Chantry,” she said. “The Grand Cleric—”

“No,” Roman snapped. “No fucking Chantry.”

Aveline’s lips tightened slightly. “She was a devout lady. She would have wanted—”

“I said no!” Roman roared. “She’s not going to the fucking Chantry!”

“I’ll take her,” Anders said loudly. “I’ll take her to the clinic and prepare her for… for whatever means you want to… send her off.” He raised his eyebrows at Roman. “Is that all right?”

She nodded brusquely, and Aveline carefully transferred the body to Anders. Anders looked at Roman. “You can come see her tomorrow, if you like.”

She nodded again. Then Aveline spoke up. “I’ll escort Anders back to his clinic to avoid any further incidents. Then I’ll go make a report.” She took a step toward Roman. “Are you sure you’ll–”

“I’m fine,” Roman said loudly. She turned on her heel and strode toward the nearest exit.

She made her way through the dank and roughly-hewn stone halls of the abandoned foundry, barely paying attention to where she was going. For fuck’s sake, she could barely think.

No, that was the problem — all she could do was think, and the thoughts she kept conjuring were horrible ones. Her mother had been abducted by a mage who wanted to reconstitute his dead wife? That’s what her mother had died for? For some fucking sad-sack asshole who couldn’t get over his fucking wife?

The more she thought about it, the more her pulse seemed to beat in her ears. He did all this just to bring back his wife, she thought. Quentin had killed multiple women, waited for years, hid out in this disgusting fucking cave, and attempted some hack job necromancy shit that only Nevarrans knew how to do, all for the sake of bringing back his dead fucking wife?

If that’s what love turns people into, then all the more reason to avoid it like the fucking Blight, she thought. She climbed up a ladder and carefully shifted aside the manhole cover, then climbed back into the humid nighttime air of Lowtown.

Before she could slide the manhole cover back in place, she heard Varric’s voice echoing up the shaft. “Hey, slow down,” he called.

Roman slumped in exasperation, then waited impatiently until he clambered out of the sewer. Once they were both standing in the street again, Roman scowled at him. “I’m fine,” she said, and she turned away from him and began striding back to her house in Hightown.

Varric caught up with her and continued to jog along beside her, and Roman shot him a filthy look. “I said I’m fucking fine. Go away.”

Varric glanced at her. “At least let me get you as far as your house.”

She glared at him with increasing frustration. She’d told him to go away and to leave her alone with her own shitty problems, so why wouldn’t he just do as she’d asked? And why was he looking at her like there was something wrong with her?

Her chest and throat felt like they were burning, and her gut was roiling like a kettle ready to boil over. Before she could say something cruel to Varric that she’d really regret, she set off at a run.

She ran all the way back to Hightown, not stopping even when her lungs and her legs began to burn from the strain. The burn was good, in fact — it pulled her focus from the despicable spin of thoughts on her head. But as soon as she got to the mansion, the horrible reality of the night’s events returned.

Gamlen was in the house, pacing back and forth in the study. When Roman stepped into the doorway, he looked up, and the hope in his face made the twisting feeling in her gut grow stronger.

Gamlen took a step toward her. “Did you find her?” he asked eagerly. “Is she – where…” He trailed off, and his face went pale as his eyes darted over her filthy clothes and the cut on her arm, which was crusted now with blood.

Hie eyes darted back up to her face, and he froze. “No,” he whispered.

She could see the accusation in his face. Fuck, she thought, and she turned on her heel and went to the kitchen.

She wrenched open the high cupboard over the oven pulled out one of the bottles of rum she hid there. As she pried off the cap, it occurred to her with a pang that she didn’t need to hide any of the booze anymore. Her mother wasn’t here to nag her about it.

Her heart twisted as though a giant fist had gripped it. No, she told herself viciously, and she took a big gulp straight from the bottle.

Gamlen shuffled into the kitchen. “What happened?” he said plaintively. “How did it… what happened?”

“She fucking died. It doesn’t matter how,” Roman grunted. For love, she thought angrily. Because some disgusting twisted asshole loved his wife so much that it ruined him, just like it ruins everyone. She took two more gulps from the bottle.

“It was magic, wasn’t it?” Gamlen asked. “That’s why you’re not telling me. It was a mage who did this to her!”

A breathtaking rush of anger twisted in her chest and rippled through her limbs. “Get out,” she said in a hard voice, and she raised the bottle to her lips.

Gamlen let out a dry sob. “A mage. A mage killed Leandra! Maker…” He sobbed again. “Maybe the Templars are right. Lock the mages up! Throw away the key!”

Roman spun toward him. “Get out!” she bellowed. “Get out of my fucking house!”

Gamlen recoiled, his face twisted with tears. That was when Roman noticed that Varric was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Her rib cage seemed to swell, and the swelling feeling was expanding to her throat and burning up toward her eyes. “Get him out of my house,” she said to Varric. She grabbed the bottle of rum from the counter and shoved past Varric and Gamlen both, then made for the stairs and took them two at a time.

She strode into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. In front of the fireplace, Monty yelped and sat upright, then gave Roman a worried look when she plopped down on the bed.

She glared at the mabari. “She told me not to be angry,” she told him. “That’s the last fucking thing she said to me. ‘Don’t be angry’.” She put the bottle of rum on the bedside table and hauled off her boots and socks, then haphazardly shed her pouch belt and her staff and her vest.

Her mother wanted her not to be angry after she’d just been killed for the stupidest, most pointless reason in the world? Fine. There was only one way that Roman could dull this horrible fucking feeling in her gut that was threatening to turn into yet another raw and gaping wound.

She picked up the bottle again and sat heavily on the carpet beside Monty. She uncapped the bottle once more and tossed it in the fire, then raised the bottle to her mabari. “Cheers,” she said, and she gulped a third of the rum down in one go.

- SAMSON -

“Move your useless arse. Now.”

A dull thump of pain shot through Samson’s hip. He grunted at the rude awakening, then pried open his gritty eyes and peered through the dark at his assailant.

It was a city guardsman: one of the not-so-nice ones that the guard captain hadn’t sniffed out yet. Samson carefully rolled his tongue around in his mouth – Maker, his mouth was so bloody dry – then gave the guardsman a pitiful look. “Can’t a man get an honourable night’s rest in the street?”

“You wouldn’t know honour if it kicked you in the face,” the guardsman sneered.

Takes one to know one, Samson thought. An observant man could pick up all kinds of tidbits here in the slums if he listened hard enough, and Samson just happened to know that this particular guard had a sidepiece here in Lowtown that his lady wife certainly didn’t know about.

But Samson didn’t say anything. That kind of information could turn into coin someday, after all, and coin was in short supply at the moment.

He thought morosely of the nearly-empty little envelope in the inner pocket of his vest. Then the guard kicked Samson’s hip again. “Move your arse. I mean it. Unless you really want me to give you the boot.”

“All right, all right,” Samson grumbled. There was no point complaining that he hadn’t been bothering anyone, nor that there was hardly anyone around at this hour of night for him to bother. That would just earn him another kick or a cuff in the face, and getting struck didn’t quite glance off of him the way it used to when he had a Templar’s suit of armour to his name.

He pushed himself upright, then ambled away in the opposite direction that the guardsman had been going. He turned a corner and slipped into an empty alley – empty aside from a few dilapidated crates and a broken barrel, at least – then leaned against the wall and sighed.

Maker, he was jonesing. He had hoped to get at least one more full night of sleep before the shakes got him, but that blasted guard had ruined that.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and tapped his foot. I can’t take it now, he thought. If I take it now, that’s it. No coin, no dust, nothing. He usually kept just enough powdered lyrium to tide him over until the next time he made a little coin, but he’d tried something different last week, and…

Maker’s balls, he shouldn’t have bothered trying. He’d never heard of any Templars going off of lyrium and not losing their minds, so he didn’t know why he thought he’d be different.

But still, he’d tried. Last week, he’d tucked his lyrium stash into his special hiding spot in Darktown and tried to go without. He’d spent his coin on food instead and had enjoyed a few days of meals that he’d paid for himself instead of scrounging from a bin or wheedling the cook at the Hanged Man into giving him. And when Roman came by with her usual sneer and a ‘leftover sandwich that I couldn’t fucking finish’ — a leftover sandwich she’d clearly made just for him — he was proud to tell her that he didn’t need it for once, since he’d already eaten that day.

That pride hadn’t lasted long, though. Two days after trying to quit, the headache started, followed shortly by tremors and the sweats. The fourth day found him prying his lyrium stash out of its hidey-hole in Darktown and inhaling a third of it in one go. He woke up a day later while some urchin was stealing coin from the pouch on his belt, and he counted himself incredibly lucky that he hadn’t been robbed of his lyrium as well while he was out cold.

Ashamed but not surprised by his own failure, he’d taken some of his scant remaining coin to the bathhouse and paid for a rare bath, then changed into one of his two remaining clean-ish shirts and returned to his usual routine of taking a little bit of dust every day. Why break a routine when it worked, after all? Some people like Roman might have the balls to pull themselves out of the gutter and start over, but Samson clearly wasn’t that type of man – not when his balls were held in the iron grip of the tiny almost-empty envelope in the pocket of his vest. He didn’t know why he’d even bothered, really.

He leaned his head back against the wall and thought of Roman’s pitch-dark eyes – eyes that seemed to hold all the darkness of a starless city night. Eyes that caught and held on his face instead of skipping over him like he wasn’t there.

Damn Bird, he thought. He imagined the look she’d probably give him if she ever found him crumpled and shaking in a puddle of his own vomit and sweat: that snakelike, flat-eyed, non-judgmental stare with her dark, dark eyes.

It was that imagined look on her face that tipped him over. He was used to pity and disgust, but if Roman ever saw him looking that pitiful and disgusting, she’d never touch him again, and that would be a bloody shame.

Not that he cared particularly what Roman Hawke thought of him. She was a cranky bitch, after all. But she was a firecracker of a fuck, and he still couldn’t quite credit his luck that he was the one she kept coming back to.

He sighed, then dug into his pocket and pulled out the precious envelope of powdered lyrium. Just as he was about to inhale it, he heard voices approaching.

Two voices, both men. Samson sidled further into the shadows of the alley so as not to be disturbed, but then when one of the voices said her name, he paused to listen.

“I’m telling you, the body was Hawke’s mother. That doctor and the big guard-captain one was carrying ‘er up from the sewers. The sewers, I tell ya! What d’you suppose they was doing down there?”

“Merde. I can’t imagine,” the second voice said. “Wait a minute. The body? Was she dead?”

Samson’s shoulders tensed in surprise. “Dead as a doornail,” the first voice said. “Worse yet, she was wearing a wedding dress.”

“Wedding dress?” the second voice exclaimed.

The first one hushed him, and Samson shifted slightly closer to the mouth of the alley to hear. “Keep your voice down! But yeh, a wedding dress, all right. The doctor said ‘e was going to ‘look after her’ for Hawke, but what d’you suppose that means? He’s a mage, isn’t he? You don’t think… blood magic–”

There was a dull thump and a yelp of pain. “Shut your mouth, idiot,” the Orlesian voice hissed. “That mage-doctor’s the only one who heals us without asking for nasty favours in return.”

“All right, all right. You didn’t have to hit me, though.”

The two voices moved away. Samson stood in the alley chewing the inside of his cheek for a moment. Roman’s mother was dead? They found her in the sewers? Did Roman know about this? She must know about it, or else why would Anders and the guard-captain have Leandra’s body?

He thought hard for a minute. Then he set off to the Hanged Man.

He quietly slipped inside of the boisterous tavern. A careful glance around the room told him that Roman wasn’t here. Instead, he spotted Varric sitting at a table at the center of the room, but Samson’s sense of foreboding only worsened at the sight of Varric’s expression.

He looks as grim as the bloody Gallows, Samson thought. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Varric Tethras wearing anything other than his usual ‘I’m-everybody’s-best-friend’ smile.

Samson slowly sidled around the edge of the room to get closer to Varric’s table without being seen, and all the while, he berated himself about the fact that he was even here. What was he going to do — ask Roman’s best bloody friend for gossip based on some bullshit he’d heard while skulking around in a dark alleyway?

Asking Varric wouldn’t be the strangest thing in the world, he thought. It wasn’t like he and Varric had never spoken before the Hawke family had come to town; Varric had paid Samson for information a couple of times here and there.

But this was different. This wasn’t the exchange of a tip or two for a silver; this was personal. But why was it personal? Why did Samson even care? It wasn’t like he and Roman even liked each other. Every time he saw her, they ended up in some sort of argument that ended more often than not in a fuck. Not that Samson was complaining about the fucking, but the fucking didn’t cover the fact that she thought he was scum, even though she kept on coming back to talk to him. It also didn’t make up for her being so bloody bitchy, even if she brought him food or coin or both every time she saw him.

It didn’t cover up the fact that he was starting to wish he didn’t need the coin or the food, and that she would keep coming to see him anyway.

Damn bloody Bird, he thought irately. He slumped down onto the unoccupied edge of a bench and tried to figure out what the fuck he was thinking by coming here.

A minute later, Isabela swanned over to Varric and leaned her elbows on the table, and Samson watched from the corner of his eye as she nudged Varric with her shoulder. “Listen, I was just at the Rose, and Hawke’s uncle is there bawling his eyes out,” she said. “He was really carrying on. ‘Leandra’s dead, mages should be locked up, why didn’t Hawke stop it,’ blah blah… It was really souring the mood.”

Her tone was playful, but she looked worried — even more so when Varric sighed. “We probably shouldn’t talk about this right now,” he muttered.

The pirate’s eyes went wide. Then she sat beside him. “Is she all right?”

“Would you be?” Varric said dryly.

Isabela snorted and lifted Varric’s stein to her lips. “You’ve never met my mother.”

Varric smiled faintly and held up a finger for a waitress to bring another drink. Samson, meanwhile, had heard enough to get a broad picture of the situation. Roman’s mother was dead, her uncle was wailing about mages in the Blooming Rose, Anders and the guard-captain were looking after the body while Isabela and Varric were here…

She’s alone in the house, Samson thought. And when catastrophic things happened to Roman Hawke, there was only one way she knew how to cope.

Samson stood from the bench and sidled toward the exit. Just before leaving the Hanged Man, he glanced back at Varric’s table.

Varric was looking at him. When their eyes met, Varric nodded a subtle greeting.

Canny bastard, Samson thought ruefully. He nodded in return, then left the Hanged Man and made his way to Hightown.

He was careful to keep to the shadows as he entered the nicer part of the city. He knocked on the door to the Amell mansion, expecting the Hawkes’ little elven housekeeper to answer the door.

Instead, the door was thrown wide by Roman herself. Her face fell into a look of shock, then twisted into a sneer. “What do you want?” she slurred.

She was completely fucking plastered. Her eyes were red and swollen, and there was a mostly-empty bottle of rum dangling loosely from her hand. The door was supporting most of her weight, yet she was still managing to sway in place.

“What?” she barked.

He gathered himself and tucked his hands in his pockets. “I heard about your mum,” he said.

If possible, her face twisted even more. “How the fuck did you hear?”

He gave her a reproving look. “I live in Lowtown, Bird. People aren’t exactly quiet.”

She stared at him silently. And for the first time since he’d known her, the twisted look on her face started turning into something other than rage.

Misery. She looked completely miserable, and a painful feeling wrenched inside of his chest. Then Roman shuffled away from the door. “Go away,” she spat, and she tried to slam the door in his face.

Instead, her hand slipped on the edge of the door, and she tripped over her own feet and fell heavily onto her side. The bottle hit the floor beside her and toppled over, spilling the remainder of its contents on the carpet.

“Fucking fuck,” she complained, and she tried to push herself upright.

Samson stepped into the foyer and carefully closed the door behind him, then reached down and took her hand to pull her up.

Naturally, she tried to fight him off. “Don’t touch me,” she railed. “Don’t fucking touch me!”

Her waving fist and feet were feeble and uncoordinated, however. Samson pulled her up, then looped his arm around her waist. “Come on, you bloody wildcat,” he muttered. “You need to sleep this off.” With no small amount of effort, he hauled her toward the stairs.

She was barely able to put one foot in front of the other. “Fuck you, Raleigh Samson,” she slurred. “See, I know your fucking firs’ name too. How d’you like that, you smug asshole?”

He grunted wordlessly. In truth, it had been so long since he’d gone by anything other than his surname that his given name barely sounded like it belonged to him anymore.

By the time he managed to drag her uncoordinated body to the base of the stairs, he was breathing hard. He eyed the stairs with no small amount of bitterness. If he was still a Templar, he’d be strapping and strong, and carrying Roman up to her bedroom would barely be an effort. Hell, when he was a Templar, he would have been strong enough to carry her across half of Hightown without batting an eye. Now, however…

No bloody choice, he thought. He blew out a sharp breath, then quickly scooped her up and started up the stairs.

“Hey!” she blurted. “Put me down, you fucking — you shithead!” She wriggled in his arms and pushed his chest, and he stumbled against the bannister.

“Damn it, Bird, settle down,” he snapped. “You want me to break both our necks?”

“What if I do?” she shot back.

He gave her a flat look, then shook his head and started up the stairs again as quickly as he could. Thankfully, she didn’t wiggle anymore, though she kept on cursing him and striking at his chest with her limp fists. By the time he was stumbling into her bedroom, she had pried open the loose neckline of his shirt and was digging her nails into his chest.

He clenched his jaw and dropped her unceremoniously onto the bed, then looked down at his chest; it was peppered with little half-moon marks from her nails.

He scowled at her. “Next time I’ll leave you on the bloody floor,” he threatened.

“Good,” she said belligerently. “I didn’t ask you to come here. I didn’t ask for your fucking help. Where’s my rum?”

“You spilled it when you fell over,” he said.

She glared at him. “I want it. I want my fucking rum!”

He wilted. “It’s spilled on the floor, Bird,” he said in exasperation. “You going to suck it out of the carpet?”

“Why not? It’s what you would do,” she said. Rather unkindly, in Samson’s opinion.

He tucked his hands in his pockets. “Maybe I would. But you’re better off than me.”

To his surprise, her face suddenly twisted with rage. “Shut the fuck up. I’m not better than you,” she yelled. “I’m not better than you!”

He recoiled slightly at her sudden temper. “That’s not what I said–”

“I’m not better!” she screamed. “I’m not better than you, and I need my fucking rum!”

“All right, all right, calm down,” he said loudly. “I’ll go get it. Maker’s fucking balls.” He turned away and trudged down the stairs with no clear idea what the fuck he was doing, either in an immediate sense — the rum really was gone — or in a longer-term, ‘why did I come to Hightown in the first place’ sense. Roman clearly didn’t want him here, and the last thing he needed was to be screamed at by a mean drunk. If he wanted to be treated like this, he could just go back to Lowtown and sit down across from the bloody Hanged Man.

He sighed and meandered into the kitchen. Maybe there was another bottle of rum here somewhere. He started going through the cupboards while vaguely hoping that none of the household staff would show up and throw him out like the vagrant that he actually was.

A moment later, Monty wandered into the kitchen with his tail between his legs. Samson tensed for a second — Maker, this mabari was fucking big— then gave Monty a knowing look. “Where’s the booze, then, eh?”

Monty cocked his head unhelpfully, and Samson sighed and continued his search. Eventually he found a half-empty bottle of whiskey at the back of the cupboard above the oven. He pulled the bottle out, then made his way back up the stairs to Roman’s bedroom with Monty in his wake.

She was passed out on the bed. One of her legs was dangling off the edge of the bed while the other foot was on a pillow, and her face was half-obscured by her long raven hair.

He eyed her for a moment with an odd heavy feeling in his rib cage. He put the bottle on the bedside table, then rearranged Roman’s body so she was lying on her side with her head on the pillow where it belonged.

By the time he’d repositioned her, he was breathing hard again from hauling her dead weight around, and she was still completely unconscious. But at least now she wouldn’t choke on her own vomit, if she did end up vomiting. Samson had seen people who’d died that way after a heavy night out, and it was an ugly way to go.

He sat heavily on the edge of the bed beside her and sighed. He was exhausted, and the trembling in his hands and arms weren’t entirely from the need for lyrium.

Now that Roman was asleep on her bed, he should probably leave. She’d told him she didn’t want him here, after all, and he wasn’t in the mood for any more of her shit.

He sighed again and looked at her. Even in her sleep, she still looked like she was frowning; something about the sharp angle of her eyebrows or the pout of her full lips. She wasn’t what most people would call a beauty, especially with her sharp and lanky body that was all knees and shoulders and no tits to speak of. But Samson continued to gaze silently at her, marveling at how young and… oddly vulnerable she looked in her sleep.

She was a pretty bird, lying so still and limp like a sparrow that had slammed into a windowpane.

He gazed at her for a moment longer, then stood up. He made his way to the other side of the bed, then kicked off his shoes and lay down. Might as well take advantage of a bed while I’ve got the chance, he thought, and he closed his eyes.

A moment later, a heavy weight bounced onto the bed beside him.

He jolted in alarm, then relaxed; it was just the bloody mabari settling in right between himself and Roman.

Samson shot Monty a resentful look. “Just don’t breathe in my face, all right?” he whispered.

Monty let out a very quiet woof, then settled his chin on his paws, and Samson sighed before closing his eyes once more.

A moment later, he fell asleep — and the unfinished envelope of lyrium dust in his pocket didn’t even cross his mind.

******************************

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

For the second time that night, Samson jolted awake at the sound of an abrasive voice.

He sat up abruptly and peered at Roman. She was sitting upright in bed and glaring at him.

He sighed. “Say no more. I’m going.” He shifted toward the edge of the bed.

“You don’t have to leave,” she said. “I just asked why the fuck you’re here.”

He paused and glanced at her. She really didn’t remember why he’d come? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, given how much she’d drunk. “I heard that your mum died,” he said. He shrugged and scratched the back of his neck. “I know she carried on at you, but your mum’s your mum, so…”

Her face closed up. “I don’t need a fucking hug or a pat on the back. I’m fine on my own.”

All of a sudden, he’d had enough. He shoved himself to his feet and glared at her. “Fine. I’m off, then. You go crawl back into your bottle.” He waved angrily at the half-finished bottle of whiskey on the bedside table. “I brought it up for your ladyship, all right?” he said sarcastically. “Enjoy.”

Her lip curled. “Fuck you.”

“No, Bird, fuck you,” he retorted.

“Don’t you fucking talk to me like that!” she yelled.

“Then give it a rest for one night, eh?” he yelled back. “Just give it a rest! Aren’t you tired? I’m bloody tired, and my mum didn’t get murdered tonight.”

Her face puckered, and Samson immediately felt bad. He sighed and rubbed his face. “Look, Bird, I didn’t mean… Maker’s balls.”

“Come here,” she said quietly.

He narrowed his eyes. She still looked angry, but at least she wasn’t yelling anymore.

He slowly and warily approached the bed, then shoved his hands in his pockets. “What?”

She patted the bed beside her. “Sit here.”

He eyed her suspiciously, then sat beside her. “What–”

She suddenly slapped him across the face. Shocked, he brought his hand to his stinging cheek. “What the–”

She raised her hand again, and he snatched her wrist. “Keep your hands to yourself, or I’ll keep ‘em for you,” he threatened.

She leaned closer to him. “Try it, asshole,” she hissed. “Just try me.”

He growled in frustration, then shoved her back onto the bed and pinned her hands above her head. She bucked and kicked his shin, and he crawled on top of her and straddled her waist so she couldn’t kick.

“Stop it!” he yelled.

“You can’t make me!” she railed. “You can’t do anything! You can’t protect anyone, you can’t keep anyone safe, you can’t — you can’t… Fuck you!”

He narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t convinced anymore that it was really him that she was insulting. “Tell me what happened tonight,” he said.

“No!”

“Tell me!” he yelled.

“A mage turned my mother into a fucking rag doll made of other people’s body parts, all right?” she bellowed. “That’s what fucking happened. And now she’s dead, and I blew that asshole into a million pieces, so fuck you!”

Some of his frustration left him. No wonder Roman was such a mess right now. “She was killed with blood magic?” he asked.

“Is that all you give a shit about?” she shouted. “The only thing that you can think is that it was fucking blood magic?”

“That’s not–” He broke off. There was no point. She was looking at him now with so much rage that he might as well have killed her mother himself.

He released her wrists and shifted off of the bed. “Look, Bird, if you just want someone to yell at, go pick a fucking fight at the Hanged Man. I’ve had enough.” He stalked toward her bedroom door, but before he could open it, she strode over to him and grabbed his arm.

He twisted his arm out of her grip, and she grabbed the collar of his shirt in both hands. “Fuck me,” she said.

He gaped at her. “What?”

She lunged toward him and nipped the side of his neck, and he gasped and flinched. “Ow!”

“Fuck me!” she insisted, and she reached down and rubbed her hand over his hard cock — wait, why in the Maker’s bloody name was he hard?

He stood there stupidly, unable to breathe from the pressure of her palm on his cock. She pulled insistently on the collar of his shirt. “Fuck me, Samson,” she said. “Just fuck me.”

He sighed loudly. “Bird–”

“Fuck me!” she yelled.

Frustrated now, he grabbed both of her wrists and hauled her back to the bed, then pushed her down. “You hit me and scream at me, and you think I should fuck you?” he said incredulously.

“Yes!” she snapped. She pulled her shirt off and threw it on the floor.

Maker’s balls, she wasn’t wearing a bra. Samson dragged his eyes from her nipples back up to her face. “Why would I fuck a mouthy bitch who bites me like a bloody wildcat for no reason?” he demanded.

“I don’t know!” she bellowed. “I don’t know why you keep coming here and spending time with me. Probably because you’re fucked in the head from lyrium. But you keep showing up here and hanging around like a bad rash, so while you’re here, you should fuck me.”

“I keep coming ‘ere because you keep asking me to come!” he shouted. But even as the words left his mouth, he knew this wasn’t true this time. This time, he’d shown up here of his own accord.

Sure enough, Roman latched onto this flaw in his reasoning. “I didn’t want you here for this!” she railed. “I don’t want anyone here for this! This is — I’m too — just—” She broke off and swallowed hard, then stood up and started unbuttoning her pants. “For fuck’s sake, will you just fuck me?”

He glared at her, and she shoved her pants and smallclothes off. “Come on, fuck me!” she taunted.

He stared stupidly at the damp patch of midnight-black curls between her legs. Maker’s bloody balls, she was wet already. This made no fucking sense. He opened his mouth to tell her so.

“Fine,” he said instead. “You know what, fine, I will.” He stalked toward her and wrapped her hair in his fist, then yanked her head back.

She gasped and grabbed his shirt, then dug her nails viciously into his chest, and he gasped as a rush of pain and pleasure spilled through his chest and down to his groin. “You drive me bloody nuts, you know that?” he snarled.

“Good,” she panted. “Maybe you’ll fuck me hard enough for once, then.”

He curled his lip at her insult, then pulled her head back further and bit her throat, and she moaned and grabbed his throbbing cock through his pants. He gasped against her neck, then shoved her back into the bed, and a few frenzied heartbeats later, he was naked and she was on her hands and knees, and he was behind her and shoving her down even further onto the bed—

“Get flat on your chest, Bird,” he ordered. “Lift that ass for me.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snapped, but still she did as she was told and laid her chest and her cheek on the bed.

“You’re always telling me what to do,” he retorted. He put on a mocking high-pitched voice. “‘Get my rum, fuck me, get out of my house.’ Maybe it’s my turn now to give the orders, eh?” He pulled her hips up and suddenly spanked her.

She yelped and jolted, and Samson squeezed her buttock. “You want me to fuck you?” he said. “Maybe you should be polite for once and say ‘please’.”

She scoffed. “I’m not going to beg you to fuck me, you piece of shit!”

“You’re not, are you?” he said snarkily, and he spanked her again.

She cried out and arched her spine, and his cock pulsed at the lustful sound. Maker, she looked so damned good with her back all curved like a cat in heat and her pussy slick with how badly she wanted his cock, and Samson stared greedily at her for a moment before spanking her again, this time on the other buttock.

She mewled and twisted her hips and clawed at the bed, and Samson bit back a groan. “Say ‘please’, Bird,” he taunted.

“No!” she snapped.

Her voice was breathy with lust. Samson gripped his cock and shifted closer to her, then slid his length teasingly along the slick cleft of her pussy. “Say it,” he threatened.

She bucked her hips back toward him. “Never,” she moaned. “I’ll never fucking beg you for a f-fucking thing… ah!” She cried out once more as Samson’s palm met her butt with a sharp crack.

“Say it!” he barked.

“Fuck me!” she blurted. “I need you to fuck me!”

“That’s not what I want to hear,” he growled. He slowly rocked his hips toward her, and as her smooth heat coated his cock, he pressed his lips together hard to stop himself from moaning at how bloody good she felt.

She mewled and arched her spine, trying to twist and take him in, but he gripped her hips firmly so she could only have what he was teasing her with. Roman panted and growled and clenched her fingers in the sheets, and Samson stared at her, enraptured by the sight of her devolving into a nearly feral state of lust.

He kept sliding his cock through her folds until he was panting too, then spanked her once more, and she jolted. “Please!” she cried. “Just fuck me, please!”

He gaped at her in surprise, then eagerly gripped the root of his cock and positioned himself behind her. “I knew you couldn’t hold out,” he gasped, and he slammed into her in a hard thrust.

“Yes!” she screamed, and Samson groaned in ecstasy; she was so bloody tight and wet. He held still for a moment to gather his wits, but Roman was already wiggling her hips.

“Samson, come on, make yourself useful and fuck me already!” she ordered.

He blew out a sharp breath. “Give a bloody minute, will you?” he panted. “I need a minute, or this’ll be over before I get you halfway there.”

“Who cares? Just fuck me hard!” she snapped.

He eyed her in puzzlement. She didn’t want him to make her come?

“Fuck me!” she yelled. “Fuck me, fuck me–”

He drew back and slammed into her once more, then again and again until her bed was shaking with the force and speed of their fucking, but it still wasn’t enough for Roman; she pressed her chest more firmly into the bed and lifted her hips higher. “Harder!” she cried. “I need you to fuck me so hard it hurts!”

He stilled at this. What the hell did she mean by that? Sure, he and Roman had always engaged in a certain degree of scratching and biting and the occasional slap during sex, but that was different. That felt… Maker, it felt strange to admit it, but that felt good.

The way she’d just said to hurt her… something about it gave him a chill.

Her voice interrupted his troubled thoughts. “Samson, for fuck’s sake–”

He slammed into her once more, then held still. “You’re not the boss of me,” he said roughly. “I’m the boss, and I say you’re going to come on my cock if you want me to fuck you any faster.”

She whined and bucked back, but Samson dug his fingers into her hips and slowly withdrew from her. “Touch yourself,” he commanded. “Do it now.”

“Fuck you,” she gasped, but she slipped her hand down between her body and the bed and started caressing her clit.

“That’s my pretty bird,” he taunted. “Make yourself come on my cock, or I won’t fuck you anymore.”

She gasped and tried to twist her hips in his grip, to no avail. “I hate you,” she moaned.

He clicked his tongue. “Rude thing to say to the man who’s balls deep inside of you.” He drew back and slid inside of her slowly, and she let out a broken little cry of pleasure. A minute later, her breathing was coming in short sharp pants, and when she came, Samson felt it in the pulsing of her pussy around his cock.

“Ahh, fuck, please!” she sobbed.

He drew back, then slammed into her and fell forward onto his palms so he was looming over her prostrate body. “Let’s make something clear,” he said in a hard voice. “I’m not hurtin’ you to punish you, Bird. I’m hurtin’ you because you bloody well like it. Understand?”

She clenched her jaw, then sobbed again. “Shut up and fuck me!”

He flexed his hips, and Roman gasped and arched back to meet him, and soon their bodies were striking together with a hard and rapid smack of his hips against her upraised ass. He dipped his head low and bit her shoulder, and she cried out his name, and Samson continued to nip her skin until the pulsing of pleasure in his own body was almost too much to bear.

He gasped and pressed his forehead to her shoulder blade, then groaned and shuddered as his climax rippled through his abdomen and his limbs. For a long moment, he simply lay there with his sweaty forehead pressed to her skin as he gasped for air.

In the stillness and silence of the aftermath, once he’d caught his breath, he spoke. “I’m sorry about your mother,” he said.

He felt the slow expansion of her ribcage as she inhaled. “Don’t apologize,” she said. “You didn’t do anything.”

She sounded calmer than she had all night, and Samson was so surprised by this that he didn’t reply. In the ensuing silence, he eventually realized something odd: Roman wasn’t shoving him off the way she usually did. She was just lying there, crushed to the mattress beneath him, and there was something passive about her pose that suddenly made him feel bad.

He released her and sat back on his heels. “Can I sleep here?” he asked. “I’ve got a pain in my hip from getting kicked earlier tonight.”

She frowned as she pushed herself upright. “Who fucking kicked you? I’ll stab them.”

He gave her a knowing look. “What, you give a rat’s ass now what happens to the likes of me?”

Her frown deepened into a scowl. “No, I… fuck you.”

Her voice held no real anger, however. Samson smirked. “A real knight in shining armour, you are. Can I stay, then, or…?”

Roman scowled at him for a second longer, then shrugged. “Stay if you want. I don’t care.” She pushed back the rumpled blankets and slid beneath them, and Samson crawled under the blankets as well.

He flopped onto his back with a weary sigh. Roman rolled onto her side facing away from him, but as she settled onto her side, her foot brushed against his calf.

Samson waited for her to move her foot away with some snarky comment that he was taking up too much space on her bed, but she didn’t say anything, and she didn’t move her foot.

He lay there for a minute just staring at the velvet canopy overhead, but his attention was on the warmth of Roman’s foot touching his leg. Then he sighed internally. Fuck it. What’s the worst that can happen? he thought. She kicks me in the balls and kicks me out? I’ve had worse things happen. Before he could think too much about the painful possibility that she might do just that, he rolled toward her, then shifted close and gathered her against his chest.

Her whole body stiffened, but Samson wasn’t deterred; he pressed his chest against her spine and tucked his arm around her waist.

She stayed stock-still and stiff for many long moments before speaking. “You smell.”

His heart squeezed. Was he imagining it, or did she suddenly sound a little like she had a head cold? “I know, all right?” he said quietly. “Some of us don’t have fancy Orlesian bathtubs.”

She sniffled very quietly, and his heart throbbed again. When she spoke again, her tone was snarky once more. “You should take a bath with me in the morning.”

A bath with her? His belly did a funny flip. “Fine,” he grunted. He settled his chin against her shoulder.

“And you should shave,” Roman said. She shifted her shoulder irritably. “Your fucking whiskers are scratchy. They’re going to give me a rash.”

He sighed loudly. “Quit breaking my balls for one second, will you?”

To his surprise, she fell silent. Gradually, very gradually, her body relaxed, and Samson felt his own body relaxing along with hers.

He was half-asleep when he heard her voice again – a soft murmur, so soft that he wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a dream.

“Thanks for the fuck,” she said.

“Anytime, pretty bird,” he mumbled.

“I’m not your pretty bird,” she retorted.

He tsked. “Go the fuck to sleep, Roman.”

She growled and shifted in his arms – shifted closer, so she was tucked tightly against his chest. Then she fell still again. Minutes later, her breathing was deep and calm, and he knew she was asleep.

He closed his eyes and heaved a heavy sigh. Bloody bird, he thought. Then, with his pretty bird in his arms, Samson fell asleep as well.

#samson #raleigh samson #samson/hawke #samson x hawke #romanson #pikapeppa writes

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quicksilversquared · 4 years

Text

The Substitute Ladybug: Chapter 3

After Lila takes things too far and Marinette ends up with a broken leg, Paris is going to have to deal with a different superhero arrangement for a bit. Having to share her superhero identity with her parents before Hawkmoth can be defeated isn’t something that Marinette had planned on doing, but- well, it might end up being a bit of a blessing in disguise.

links in the reblog

The news of the incredibly short akuma fight didn't take long to spread through Paris. There wasn't much footage of it, only what the night news anchor had managed to shoot from inside of the building before getting hit himself, but the guards and everyone living nearby had seen how Coccinelle and Chat Noir had worked together in perfect tandem, practically anticipating the akuma's every strike.

(They had been anticipating every strike, but that was- well, that was being picky, really, and also the superheroes weren't about to give away their secret weapon.)

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to deter Hawkmoth. He attacked the very next afternoon, and Marinette had to hobble her way out of class for a "bathroom break". Thankfully she was getting faster on her crutches- though she was still being careful, Tikki, thank-you-very-much- so it wasn't as hard as she had worried to slip into an empty closet in the library and transform. Chat Noir was already out, and it wasn't long before Coccinelle's symbol appeared on Vipera's screen.

"I'd like to try the same thing as last night," Vipera told them, settling herself up in the closet, half-perched against a shelf. It wasn't particularly comfortable, but hopefully the fight wouldn't last very long. On their end, at least. "If there's two quick take-downs in a row, we might be able to unnerve Hawkmoth a bit, and he might take a step back on the akuma attacks."

"Because he would think that Coccinelle and I are an even more formidable team or something and it would be dangerous for him to go up against us," Chat Noir filled in. She could hear the grin in his voice. "Nice thinking. Are you up for using Second Chance a ton of times again, though?"

"Yeah. And if I end up using it more than I planned, I can always take a nap after school." Vipera allowed herself a smile at her partner's concern, then buckled down to focus on the fight, focusing on the news and camera feeds coming from the area. Once again, she was getting some early intel on the akuma, and this one seemed to be an akuma-sentimonster partnership. That by itself made things more dangerous, but if they could figure out the possessed items on one go-round and then she would know already with the reset...?

That could work.

"Or would I need to bother?" Vipera murmured to herself, eyes scanning the scene. The sentimonster teaming up with the akuma was oddly shaped, the perfect size to get stuck if, say, a manhole cover was unexpectedly missing and it tripped in. One solid whack over the head or yank from below would probably wedge it in well enough to remove it from the fight, leaving Coccinelle and Chat Noir to deal with the akuma- and with Mayura, if she had read the flash of blue along the rooftops correctly.

Hopefully it was just Mayura and not Hawkmoth as well. He tended not to come out as often as his blue-skinned counterpart, though the why was harder to say.

Personally, Vipera was of the opinion that it was poor planning. If Hawkmoth had come out with Stoneheart the first time he had shown up, it would have been all over for the superheroes. Instead, he had lurked in his lair (she assumed that he had a lair, at least- maybe he was just lurking in his bedroom) and waited for the superheroes to actually become competent fighters.

That, and Hawkmoth was a coward.

"I don't see any signs of Hawkmoth personally being there," Vipera finished as she relayed everything that she had seen to her teammates. "But I might recommend coming in from below and capturing the sentimonster first, or at least having one of you doing that. It keeps running really close to the manhole cover near the base of the Arc- Chat, you know the one?"

"Yep!"

"You want us to identify manhole cover locations from below now?" Coccinelle sounded incredulous. "I mean, I can see your plan, but..."

Chat Noir laughed. "The maps on our weapons work wonders, really. And we've used that manhole- I'm not going to say a lot, but enough that I'm familiar with it. I just wonder how we're going to keep the sentimonster from pushing itself back up, even if we yank it down to wedge it in."

"Oh, that's easy," Coccinelle said cheerfully. "There's some men over here who have ropes- I'm going to ask if I can borrow one. Then we can lash the feet to the ladder and buy ourselves some time."

"Fantastic." Vipera flipped to another camera, scanning the area. "Let me know when you're close?"

"We've met up and dropped down into the drains," Chat Noir reported a minute later. "Headed towards the manhole cover. Are they still in the same spot?"

"Oddly enough, yeah." Vipera glanced over the area again and- okay, it wasn't hard to figure out why. Apparently even Hawkmoth's seemingly smarter sidekick sometimes made dumb tactical decisions. "Mayura's found a good hidey-hole and so she doesn't want to move. Chat Noir, you know the place where-"

Vipera explained quickly, and it only took her partner a few seconds to figure out the place she was talking about. By the time the two other superheroes reached their manhole cover, the beginnings of a plan had been put into place. Coccinelle would trap the sentimonster while Chat Noir ambushed Mayura from behind. With two of the three threats contained or distracted, Coccinelle could take on the akuma on her own once she popped out of the drain system.

Well. Visibly on her own, at least. Vipera would be keeping an eye on her and Chat Noir at the same time, so she wouldn't really be on her own.

It didn't take long for the superheroes to reach the right sewer, and then Chat Noir moved out and into position. Seconds after he sent his ready signal, the manhole cover twisted and slid out of place, nudged to the side quietly enough that when the sentimonster made its next rounds, it tripped over the loose cover and stumbled straight into the open hole. There was a jerk, and then it started flailing. The akuma abandoned its latest victims as a purple mask flashed around its face, and then it turned towards the trapped sentimonster, clearly worried about already being down an ally. Vipera set her timer, and then focused, mind frantically sorting through all of the information being thrown at her.

Chat Noir's fight, his earpiece set to continuously stream audio. Coccinelle and the akuma battling it out, her audio also on. Keeping an eye on the sentimonster to make sure that it wasn't wriggling free. Switching between video feeds to watch both of them, re-setting and giving instructions and weighing how helpful those instructions were. Making adjustments when things didn't work as well as she had hoped.

At least her teammates weren't bantering with the supervillains. Their audio was limited entirely to quick updates or suggestions for the next go-round, which helped her keep her focus. Chat Noir was entirely serious as he faced off with Mayura, holding his own well enough. He only needed the occasional instruction as he fought, though that was in large part because they weren't actually trying to defeat Mayura, just hold her off.

Four minutes later, the akuma was defeated and the amok-possessed item had been knocked away from Mayura and also purified. Mayura frantically knocked Chat Noir back and fled as the Cure rushed over Paris, and Vipera let her. It wasn't worth another go-round attempt to see if they could defeat her this fight.

"Should I ask how long that took you?" Chat Noir asked breathlessly over the earpiece as he re-joined Coccinelle. "Because I could hear a lot of instructions going on."

"I didn't really keep track," Vipera admitted, slumping on her little strip of clear shelf. She was going to need a nap after school let out, so she could tell that it had been a long time, but- well, she had kind of done that to herself, hadn't she? She had been the one to suggest that her teammates split up, even if she hadn't needed to interfere with Chat Noir's fight that much. "But I'll be fine. Hopefully that'll scare Hawkmoth off a bit."

"Or we'll have a sentimonster, an akuma, and both supervillains out next time," Chat Noir said with a laugh. "Because they'll figure that eventually they can outnumber us."

Vipera snorted. "Then we'll send out Dad. I'd like to see their faces when he comes out."

Coccinelle started giggling. "Oh, that would be funny! And you know your dad would love to help out. I don't know if we could have both of us come out during the day, though."

"Right. That's something to take into consideration." Vipera glanced at her Miraculous. She was almost out of time. "I might have to start carrying backups with me, either that or tell you where I keep them. But we can talk later- I'm out of time. See you later!"

Her teammates called their good-byes, and then Vipera detransformed. She grinned at Sass- even if she was mentally exhausted, they had done a really good job- and then listened carefully to make sure that no one was around before popping out of the closet and heading back to class.

Even though she was still interrupting her day, Marinette was glad that she was still being involved in the akuma battles in some form. It kept her mind sharp, forcing her to keep up with noticing- well, everything- and she wasn't getting distracted in class, worrying about her mom out there battling Hawkmoth when she didn't have the same amount of experience that Marinette herself did.

Marinette couldn't help but smile to herself as she headed back into the classroom and hobbled back to her seat. When she first started being a superhero, she had hated missing out on class to go battle akumas. Now, when she had the chance to sit back while her leg healed and not worry about it... well, she couldn't help but want to still be involved.

The city was ecstatic about the apparent new trend in akuma attacks. After months of attacks that- with some exceptions, of course- usually took closer to half an hour to clear up, two attacks in a row that were wrapped up in under five minutes was amazing.

It also sparked a lot of gossip about how, exactly, it was being done.

"Well, obviously the weak point was Ladybug," Chloe sniffed at school, inspecting her fingernails as though she was otherwise completely disinterested in the conversation. "She's been replaced by someone older and wiser, who wouldn't do something stupid like take my Miraculous away from me."

Nino snorted loudly. "Yeah, right. If that's the case, then why haven't you gotten the Bee back yet, Chloe?"

"And didn't Chat Noir say that it's just temporary?" Adrien chimed in before Chloe could snap back, probably with the argument that Chat Noir should get replaced by someone, too, because obviously he was the weak link now keeping her from getting the Bee back. "Because Ladybug was out sick or something?"

"Or something," Alya agreed. "He wasn't very specific about it, was he?" She tapped her phone. "The consensus on the Ladyblog is that Ladybug's family is going on vacation and she couldn't get out of it without being suspicious. I mean, Chat Noir didn't say she was sick exactly, did he? Just that she was getting some much-needed rest."

The class considered that.

"So maybe Ladybug will be out for the rest of this week and then Chat Noir will have a substitute so that he can get some rest?" Rose suggested. She shrugged when they all looked over at her. "Maybe Chat Noir was just telling the truth and we're all reading too far into it?"

"I can't see either of them just sitting back and not coming out to the battles if they were in Paris, though," Alya countered. "That's just not their personality, is it? Or at least that's the impression I've gotten from them," she added quickly. "So I think something else is up. If they just wanted to relax, I feel like they would pull out more full-time holders so that battles would go faster."

"Right, and they should choose moi-"

Alix snorted loudly. "Right, give the one temporary holder whose identity all of Paris knows their Miraculous full-time! There's definitely nothing that could go wrong there!"

Chloe scowled.

"Kids, please," Ms. Bustier pleaded, casting a disapproving eye over the class. Everyone settled down, though not without a fair amount of grumbling. "Let's just be thankful that whatever the superheroes have going on at the moment is working out so well, and try to be positive so that we don't add to their workload. I know we're all concerned about Ladybug, but all we can do is hope that she's okay and will be back defending Paris soon enough!"

Most of the class nodded. Sabrina started to, then caught Chloe's furious glare and promptly stopped, shrinking away from her glowering friend.

"Some people on the Ladyblog are already hoping this team becomes permanent, because they've been doing so well," Alya whispered once Ms. Bustier turned around to write on the board. She leaned forward so that Nino and Adrien could hear as well. "Because people are so tired of akuma attacks, and the last two attacks went so fast."

"But the previous- what? Three, four? They didn't go nearly as smoothly," Nino whispered back. "They aren't going to count the most recent two as just flukes for now?"

Alya shrugged, keeping one eye on their teacher. "I don't know. I think it's too early to call. But the fact that there was such a change, and so suddenly- either they've just really found their stride, or something else is going on. And I don't think that we've seen all of the Miraculous powers out there. Who says that there isn't something else going on behind the scenes that's making them fight so well?"

Marinette hid a smile. Ladybug- well, Vipera, technically- was the thing behind the scenes that was making such a change, but they weren't going to tell anyone that until- well, probably until Hawkmoth was defeated. It was much too useful of a tool to give away.

"People are seriously preferring Coccinelle over Ladybug?" Adrien hissed, sounding thoroughly distressed. "I mean, I know Coccinelle is doing a good job, but Ladybug's done so much!"

"Class, I can still hear whispering," Ms. Bustier told the board dryly before Alya could respond. "Please settle down."

Adrien and Nino promptly whipped around to face the front. From her seat, Marinette could tell that Adrien looked somewhat distressed, ducking his head to exchange a few quick words with Nino that she couldn't hear. Marinette frowned at that, wondering what could be upsetting Adrien so much. She knew that he liked Ladybug a lot, so maybe he was offended on her behalf that anyone would think that Ladybug should step down in favor of Coccinelle.

Honestly, Marinette wasn't surprised that that opinion existed, though it did sting a little that people would so easily consider replacing her. She knew that the interest of akuma attacks had worn off for most of Paris, and even the novelty of superheroes was starting to ebb. People wanted to know why they hadn't defeated Hawkmoth already, never mind that they were trying and they were dealing with adults who were bigger and stronger. Most people understood that they were trying, at least, and so they liked the superheroes, but others just wanted to be done with the whole thing, no matter how it was done.

Marinette could understand that. Even though she sometimes enjoyed the challenge of figuring out how to defeat an akuma and of course she loved the freedom of swinging around the city, having to interrupt her day to deal with the akumas...well, it got old for her, too. So now that people were seeing an older superhero all of a sudden and the fights were going really well and they didn't know the real reason why. Of course they would assume that the change was due to the change in superhero lineup.

Hopefully they wouldn't openly protest Ladybug's return, once she was well again. That would be disheartening.

The rest of the day flew by. Adrien and Nino flanked Marinette as she moved from class so class to keep her from getting jostled, and while there was a lot of talk and speculation about the superheroes, the teachers kept most of it under control. They were there to learn, as Madam Mendeleev rather testily pointed out when she caught Alya whispering with Alix mid-class, and not to gossip about what the superheroes were or were not up to. That could wait until after school.

Besides, she had added, people were gossiping far too much for a simple two fights in a row that had gone well. That hardly provided enough data for anyone to call it a trend.

Thankfully for Marinette's sanity, Alya had to go babysit her sisters right after school and so couldn't lead the continued discussion on what might be going on with the superheroes. She had tried inviting Marinette, but one comment from Marinette about the wisdom of combining Alya's rambunctious sisters with Marinette's broken leg and crutches had Alya backing off right away.

Which meant that Marinette was free to go home and catastrophize on her own, a day's worth of whispers and overheard gossiping enough to make her start doubting everything.

"I thought you seemed to brush off that comment earlier, no problem," Sass commented as Marinette tried and failed to pace on crutches before flopping down on the couch, wincing as her leg got jostled a little more than she had intended. "Because it is dumb that people are being so impatient with the superheroes. You and Chat Noir have gone through a lot of struggles recently! You've lost Master Fu as a mentor and your temporary holders got outed. Hawkmoth and Mayura solved whatever weird energy was polluting Duusu and the Peacock, and now they're stronger. Now you've broken your leg! And still, you've found solutions and you've kept going. I'd say that most people would have lost the battle by now."

"Yeah, but..." Marinette sighed. She hadn't wanted the comments to eat at her, but they had. "The fights, with any luck, will keep going like the last two. People are going to get used to short fights, and then I'm going to come back out all out of shape, and things- well, things are going to take longer again. And people are going to talk. And if we don't give away our secrets, then people are going to assume that I'm the weak link. It's a no-win situation." She slumped a bit more, than attempted to straighten. "And the public doesn't know about all of the other stuff we've had to deal with, either. All they see is Hawkmoth and Mayura coming out and us not managing to defeat them, even though they're right there and not hiding like they did before."

"If they're reasonable, they'll have to admit that fighting up to four times as many supervillains as you did before will be harder, and you can't be expected to do four times as much work with just two of you."

Marinette sighed. "Yeah, but- okay, so I've read the Ladyblog, and people are confused about why we haven't pulled out the temporary holders we had before and keep them on more. I don't think there were many people in this area of Paris who didn't get hit by Chloe's bees, so nobody besides her and Hawkmoth and Mayura actually know that people's identities got revealed."

Sass considered her. "Did you tell your temporary holders?"

"Of course! I didn't want them to get upset that we passed them over when we need to get out those Miraculous next time. They were angry at Chloe, but I asked them to please try to let it go, because I really didn't want to have to fight any of them right now." Even the thought of it was completely awful. "And they listened, thankfully."

"Hmm." Sass gave that some thought. "Perhaps you could assign them different Miraculous? Either that or assign them the same one but require that they have a vastly different look and a different name. Could you use them again then- and perhaps assign some of them as permanent holders?"

Marinette immediately made a fact at the thought, though she certainly didn't mean to. "Honestly? Maybe I could re-use them as temporary holders, but I wouldn't dare give any of them the Miraculous permanently. Some just haven't been out enough for me to get a good read on them, of course. Chloe is a hard no and should have been a no from the start. Alya... she's my friend, but she also has the Ladyblog and not the greatest filter about what should and shouldn't go online sometimes. And she's gotten Akumatized, like... a lot. Not Mr. Pigeon a lot, but more often than most other people in Paris. She's got a temper. And Nino... well, he's Alya's boyfriend, and they knew about each other before. If I tap him for either temporary or long-term superheroing, he's going to assume that Alya will get to do the same thing and then tell her and then she'll get mad again."

Sass considered that. "That would not be ideal."

"Not at all, which means that I need to find more potential holders." Which was a lot of work, truth be told. Adults had an advantage with the endless power usages and no timer, but a disadvantage in the fact that- well, they had jobs and would be noticed going missing on a long-term regular basis. Teenagers had the limitations of timers, single power usage, school, and parents, when- well, the last of those really depended on the parent in question.

Kagami, for instance, was a strong fighter. She had showed a lot of promise in her time as a superhero. But she had a strict mom and went to an equally strict private school, which meant that she would no doubt get in a lot of trouble if she had to leave class on a rather regular basis. That by itself meant that Kagami could really only be a temporary superhero even if she changed her transformation. Just like the others.

(Besides, even with a changed transformation... well, that still seemed too risky.)

Ugh. This superhero stuff just kept on getting more and more difficult.

Marinette sulked through her after-school snack, trying not to loiter on thoughts of- well, everything to do with the superhero part of her life. Even though she knew how important she still was in the fights, it was hard not to feel a bit down, a bit useless.

She was limited to helping while sitting in a closet or a bedroom, instead of throwing punches and kicks and being there in person.

"Marinette? Did something happen at school?"

"Oh, hi, mom," Marinette said, trying not to sound too down. "No, school was fine-"

"Her friend was saying that some people want Coccinelle to stay, since the last two fights were so short," Sass reported. "And Marinette was dwelling on that."

She gaped at him. "That- that's tattling!"

"But it's important to not bottle everything up, too," Mrs. Cheng told her. She came over to stand by Marinette, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Marinette, you know that we wouldn't be doing so well without you helping. And four-minute battles? That would be completely out of the question without you."

"Yeah, but..." Marinette tried not to sigh. She and Sass had already discussed this, and really, there wasn't much else they could cover.

Still, she filled her mom in.

"-and I don't want to stop doing the short fights, because I know that it's important for you to be able to get back to the bakery, and Chat Noir probably wants to get back to his life, and I don't exactly want to be missing class, either," Marinette finished. "But when Ladybug comes back, I know that fight times will shoot back up again."

"You could keep using some of the techniques that you've picked up now!" Tikki suggested right away. "The using cameras before you go in to figure out the akuma's powers and what the possessed item is from a safe distance, and potentially spotting Hawkmoth and Mayura ahead of time. That's given us a real advantage."

"And maybe towards the end of my time as Coccinelle, we can admit that Ladybug's been watching with another Miraculous and that's why she's doing so well, because you've been helping and directing the fights," Mrs. Cheng offered. "We don't have to say it was the Snake or mention the Second Chance uses, because I can see where you might be worried about Hawkmoth getting ideas from that. But by saying that you've been helping out so much and that's why we're doing well, that's telling the public that the difference isn't necessarily because of me."

Marinette nodded, her mind whirring. That...was a good idea. It was safe, because they could just refrain from sharing too many details, but Paris would know that Ladybug had been a large part of the success that Coccinelle and Chat Noir had been enjoying.

Hopefully that would make her transition back to being Ladybug easier. Of course people would expect a well-trained trio to do better than a duo, even if the third member of said trio wasn't physically present. Maybe there would be people pushing for them to add a third permanent member in the role that Vipera had been filling, but- well, hopefully that would quiet the people who were pretty much ready to swap Ladybug out for Coccinelle. And if not, it would at least lessen their numbers.

For the first time since that morning, Marinette could really relax again, her mind set at ease and no longer veering off the rails catastrophizing. Even though it was going to be weeks until Ladybug re-joined the battles in person again, they had a plan in mind.

And that made all the difference.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Substitute Ladybug #marinette dupain cheng

103 notes · View notes

doodles-arts · 4 years

Text

Absence makes the heart grow forgetful

Pairing: Leonardo x reader

rating?: pg-13

warnings?: mild angst! and a curse word

word count: 2369

summary: Leo hasn’t seen you in a while. You start to worry but he let’s you know he’s just busy. But with no job as of recently, you can’t help but worry and investigate

a/n: I was in a mood recently and decided to write it on a piece of paper, no I didn’t break up with anybodyyy. thankfully. Just had a little mood and decided to make fictional characters suffer in my fictional writing like a sadist lmfaoo. Please go easy on any grammar or spelling mistakes, this was just alittle oneshot I wrote while I was brooding and didn’t feel like checking over!

enjoy!

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

“I miss you..”

You didn’t expect him to see it anytime soon. Or be able to come over, or even wanna come over. Not because he didn’t love you, but because he was busy and would be too tired to wanna come all the way over to your house. You understood that much, but the thought still made you bitter. But Leo was no dog, he was not at your beck and call. If you were lucky, he’d promise to see you throughout the week and that would be enough. But the sentimental thought didn’t wash away the bitter feeling you had in your mouth.

You missed him dearly, you wanted to see him that second, wanted for him to drop everything and come see you that second. For some cuddles, late-night talk and much needed alone time. It was all you wanted. But he had been so busy this month you hadn’t seen him in two weeks. I hadn’t heard from him in 3 days. So, yes, you were a little bitter he wasn’t by your side at the moment.

Of course, you wouldn’t lash out at him because of it though, it wasn’t his fault he had a life separate from yours. It was normal to be busy and you were in no way mad at him. But your parents were out of time, you wanted him there, while you still could. He never came…

When you awoke the next morning to a text from you blue-clad turtle, and it read:

“Sorry, Had a busy patrol tonight, I miss ya too babe.”

You huffed out in annoyance. I guess you wouldn’t be seeing him any other time soon. It left you wondering if this would be a normal thing? An everyday thing. Because if it was, you weren’t comfortable. You checked the time and the day, it was late enough that they were finished with morning training. You’d call, make sure he was alright, and let him know that you missed and wished to see him. No problem in you taking the first step right?

Picking up the phone to your ear, it rang. Four rings later and Leo picked up the phone and you immediately smiled.

“Hi, babe!”

“Hey.”

“How are you, chicken?” A little nickname you had for him that always made him chuckle. not this time.

He hummed, “pretty good, babe”

“...well, I hope I didn’t catch you in a bad time, but I just wanted to check in”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Oh, alright. Well maybe you can come over tonight for some movies? I’m home alone right now and have really missed you these past few weeks.” You almost whispered the last part, feeling like a nuisance.

“Listen, I’ve just been really busy lately, I’ll try to make it. I’ll let you know if I can’t”

He sounded a bit distracted, “oh. Alright then.”

“Let’s talk later, alright?”

You nodded not really all their, “yeah, yeah”

He hung up before saying ‘I love you.’ It wasn’t like him. You felt a little nervous, had you done something? Playing with your hands while you thought of what it was you might have done, it couldn’t have been the late night text because he wrote that he also missed. You tried to brush it off. But the dent in your mood was an obvious indication that you had been unsuccessful.

Through the night you still waited for Leonardo, having faith that he’d come and fix anything that was going between the two of you. You fell asleep on the living room floor waiting for him. In the morning you had a terrible crick in your neck. You checked your phone and saw no notifications and when you pulled up your cellphone messages, there were no messages from him. He didn’t even let you know he wasn’t coming. That wasn’t like him. What the hell was going on?

You texted him a simple, “Coming down, okay?”

After an hour, you heard no response from him and decided to text Raph, “Is it okay if I come down?”

As you set your phone down to check your hair a quick ping! was heard. You checked and Raph had replied: “sure :)”

You smirked at his sarcastic texting emoticon, not have heard, or rather seen it in a while. You used to compete with Raph with everything.

Putting your boots on and walked down to the closet manhole, as you pulled the cover and started climbing in, another ping! was heard from your phone. It was Leo and it read:

“Busy, sorry”

You almost felt the urge to go back home. But if Raph said it was okay, and they weren’t busy, then what was Leo doing? No matter, you’d wait and hang with his brothers. Missing them just as much. As you walked towards the lair and rounded the corner inside. Your boyfriend was on the couch, his phone in his hand, and the remote in the other. You were frozen and the only reason he had even realized your presence was that Mikey had announced it. Or he would have been to busy on his phone, doing whatever.

As he looked up, a little panicked, Mikey swooped you in a hug and you hugged back lightly, and what he said next started boiling the pot on anger in your stomach. “You’re finally back! Leo took the liberty to tell us you were too busy to find time to come down to the lair the past few weeks.”

“Weeks?” You looked at him, the fake smile painted on your face. About to investigate this entire situation before you reacted. “Yeah, because of your job, dudette.” You nodded and slapped your forehead playfully.

“Yup, sorry, time gets so jumbled when you’re busy, ya know?” He smiled and nodded innocently, telling you there was warm pizza in the kitchen as he walked away. You bore a glare towards Leo and he knew he was in for it. Raph had stopped you on the way towards him, “hey pipsqueak, you look like your about loose your cool, ya’ good?” His golden eyes looked concerned, and his furrowed eyebrows seconded it. You nodded your teeth grinding, and quickly looked at the couch and back to him. He took the hint and walked away with hands up in surrender. The towel in his left hand wiping the sweat of his burly neck.

As you walked up to him, stopping right in front of him, He gave a side glance to see if any of his brothers were in the room. They weren’t and they weren’t going to be, Raph would make sure of that, being the good friend he was, he’d give you the privacy you wanted. “Busy from work? Huh, that would actually be great if I wasn’t LAID OFF”, he clears his throat and stood up to answer you.

“I know what this looks like-”

“And it’s exactly what I think, you’ve been avoiding me, and you can’t even own up to it?” You rolled your eyes in frustration. He quickly adds, “I wasn’t trying to I just wanted a little break. I was a little stressed.” You scoffed, more offended then before.

“I’m your girlfriend dumbass, I can help with that. And why is it the first thing you decided to remove from your plate was me? Am I that unimportant?” Leo’s eyes widened and quickly shook his head. “Of course not baby, I just didn’t wanna hurt you.”

“So you thought by pushing me away that it would make it better? God, I thought you were better than that. You lied to me ALL this time. Why the hell should I even believe anything-”

“I was tired, okay? Of you! Damnit, I just couldn’t find any of the times where I didn’t feel like our relationship wasn’t a responsibility.”

You felt the sting of the tears. The realization, that he never appreciated you, he’d never be able to appreciate you. “Fuck you, Leo. we’re through.” Before he could see your teary eyes, you walked away. Knowing he wouldn’t come after you, you walked away proudly. No way was he going to that away from you. You knew your worth and that sure as hell wasn’t it. But he was glad you were gone.

As you were far away enough, you felt yourself break, tears falling down your cheeks. And to think you ever felt like you had loved him. Gave him everything, everything you could offer. Your time, your affection, and your dedication. Your loyalty and admiration. What a prick, he couldn’t remember all the times your both stayed up late talking about the star signs or the American justice system. The nights you both watched the buildings twinkle their lights like stars.

You were still crying, the tears blurring your vision, but you still got up and walk the path to go home. You thought of the first night you spent the night together, the morning after where you played in the shower with the bubbles. The night you baked cupcake and threw flour at each other. Was that not memorable? You thought you were making memories. Were you really that unbearable that he liked it better when you were apart?

You tripped, your hands had flown out to catch your fall, and they scrapped on the sewer concrete. How could you have been so dumb? Let yourself be taken advantage of like that? Now you were in the sewers, on the floor on your hands, crying your heart out. You had yourself to blame for that. Your hands burned and it only fueled your anger and tears further.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A month and a few weeks later.

As you finished another study session with Donatello you got ready for bed. You were glad his brother held no ill feelings towards the breakup. They even seemed more helpful and close to you than before. Perhaps Leo told them about how the break-up and they felt bad?

You were pretty torn up about it, but you learned that Leo was his own person, he had his own view to your relationship. But you still cried some nights, remembering all the things you had put on pause for him. Or the fact that he felt driven away by you. You were still working on getting over him but it was a slow and steady process. You had self-control however, deleting his pictures and other messages from your phone.

As you pulled the blankets over you a distinctive knock the window that made you stand up straight in bed. In couldn’t be, he had some nerve to come knocking on your window after how he let you go.

Your hands trembled as you ripped off the covers, you wanted to be angry. You really did. But all you could feel was the nerves shooting up your body. You couldn’t let him get to you, he couldn’t hurt you any further, you weren’t together anymore. As you pulled open the window he smiled slowly, “h-hey.”

You just stared, not believing how nonchalant this man was being. It was quite obvious that you were uncomfortable, so what the hell was he waiting for?

“What do you want?” You asked, mumbling through your teeth, but you knew he could hear it, his hearing was impeccable. He rubbed the back of his neck, about to step a foot into your apartment, “I had a fight with Mikey… about you… and then Raph sorta jumped in. Just thought that maybe you and I could talk for a little. Just need someone to hear me out, like you, as you promised.”

You closed the sliding window slightly before he could walk in, “sorry, but no.” Your voice was at the peak of a tremble. You could feel the tears at bay. You weren’t going to let him back in, and you weren’t going to help him until you were over him. He looked hurt, genuinely. “I thought we promised each other we’d always be there?”

Your head snapped up to finally look him in the eyes, you kept your glare up. “We promised that, with the thought that we’d still be together Leo. I mean, Leonardo. You lost that privilege when you left me behind, I lost my job, I was swimming in debt and about to lose my apartment. Where were you? Oh! That’s right! You were stressed!-” The tears were no longer at bay, but rolling down on your cheeks. “-Too busy to think if I needed you! Why should I help you? When I was all alone, when I needed you most, you were already heading for the hills. Pfft, a break? More like an excuse.”

You were sniffling, but you didn’t miss a beat. This would be therapeutic, “You led me one, kept me worried, kept me up all those nights wondering if you were okay!” You noticed the tears in his eyes, and it tipped your anger over the top. You growled and slammed the window on his face. Not caring what else he had to say. He had lost his chance with you the second you had walked into the lair that day.

He stood on the fire escape, his eyes burning. He knew he was doing the right thing, but did it have to hurt so bad? His brothers called him stupid for playing you like that. Hence the fight, but he didn’t have a choice, his enemies knew of you and he knew they wouldn’t rest until he was dead trying to save you. Or worse, killed you to get to him.

He never meant for it to get this far, he just wanted to spend some time apart until his enemies assumed he had ended it, but then you had come down into the lair because you had texted Raph. God how had he been so blind, he didn’t think he could explain the truth so he came up with a lie. It was dumb, but you bought it. And he wished tonight he could have turned to you, but it was true, he had broken you. You were crying and so was he, and it was so hard not to force your window open and hold you.

He had lost the best thing that had ever happened to him and it was because he was always putting others in front of his own desires.

Raph made sure to remind him everyday about it.

He cried into his hands, in the middle of the night. Thrown out into the cold on your balcony, knowing he had failed you...

If only he could have told you he loved you one more time.

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fxkthatdairy · 5 years

Text

Panic Room Chapter Nine: Safe and Sound~ Grayson Dolan

Overview: In the year 2020, to solve the problem of overpopulation. Selected few are thrown into the PANIC ROOM simulation. If the person finds their soulmate in the simulator and manages to survive, they are able to rejoin the rest of the population. If they fail they will become a victim of the PANIC ROOM. What happens when (Y/N) gets thrown in the PANIC ROOM? Will she survive? Or will she fall victim to the simulation?

Warnings: Murder, death, depression, angst, suicide warning

(Y/N)’s POV

The wall slowly closed the gap between Grayson and I and I was trapped in this empty room. My heart began to pound inside my chest and my anxiety spiked extremely. The room was solid white with indents in the walls. I sunk to the floor and placed my head between my knees. How the hell did this happen? I’m never going to see Grayson again. I’m going to die fucking alone. My thoughts ran through my head.

“(Y/F/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N),” A voice echoed through the room.

“Who’s there?,” I questioned.

“Welcome to the second part of the Panic Room simulation that tests the individual strengthens against troubling times. You will be put through some of your biggest fears and saddest memories to see if you can overcome them. If you pass this test, you will be released into a waiting room to see if your partner can make it through as well, if they do you shall be released back to the public but if you shall fail, you will be murdered or you shall become part of the simulation. Outside this room, your darkest fears and follies will push you to your limits. Good luck and God bless America,” the voice echoed off and a door opened to the side of the room.

I stood up and grabbed my bag. It was time to man up and be strong for myself, Grayson, and my mom. I took a deep breath and walked through the doors. The hallway was long and dark. The air was very humid and honestly, it was hard to breathe. I kept walking, even though I had no clue where I was going. My shoes began to feel like they were getting soaked so I looked down. I slowly realized that the floor was filled with water and that water was currently rising. I began picking up my pace as I looked for an outlet out of the hallway. I’ve had a fear of being drowned by water since I was a child due to the fact that I was never properly taught how to swim. My heart pounded against my chest as the water was now up to my knees and I haven’t found any way out of this hallway. It was harder to speed through the hallway as the water rose up higher and higher. My anxiety started getting worse as the water now was up to my chest and it was getting harder to fight through the water. This is how I’m going to die, all alone, in a dark hallway being drowned. As the water rose, I began trying to swim with it up. The water now almost completely filled the hallway and I took one last deep breath before completely submerging underwater. Right before I was going to accept my fate, I noticed a hatch on the ceiling. I swam up towards it and began pulling with all of my strength. The lack of oxygen was starting to affect me as I began slipping in and out of consciousness. I pulled one final time and the hatch door swung open and I was able to breathe again. There was a ladder that led up into what I could only assume was an old manhole that belonged to a sewage system. I climbed the later to the top and pushed the metal cover off and pulled myself out of the hole

When I stood up, I was standing in the middle of the street. Not just any street, the street that my childhood and current home resided. My once soaked clothes were now dry and not tattered anymore. I smelt clean and my hair was nicely done. I walked down the street and noticed the blue Volkswagen bug that used to belong to Mrs.Schmidt before she moved to Florida. It would have been impossible for that buggy to be in that driveway because Mrs.Schmidt moved when I was 15. I then began noticing other small things. The swing set that belonged to the children across the street stood in the front yard was missing and so was their mother’s minivan. Instead, a bright red convertible was parked in the driveway. Before the children were born, their parents were extremely sporty people and loved their sports cars but after the kids were born when I was 14, they switched out their sports cars for something more suitable and safe for their children.

“What year is it?” I thought to myself as I found a lone newspaper on the ground.

The newspaper read: November 26th, 2014, which would’ve made me 13 years old. The date was also very familiar to me but it couldn’t have been. This newspaper had to be old, so I just dropped it back where I found it and continued to walk to my house. As I approached my house, I saw a girl, no taller than 5’0, leaving my house. She closed the door quietly and threw the hood of her hoodie over her head and began to quickly walk away, steering clear of all of the street lights.

“Hey, why were you at my house and who are you?” I called out loudly to the girl and she didn’t even acknowledge my presence, so I picked up my speed and continued walking after her.

“For real, who are you? I promise I won’t call the cops!” I said as my fast walk slowly began to turn into a jog as the girl began taking more complex turns and staying in the dark.

The girl still continued to ignore me as if I weren’t real or something.

“Okay, this isn’t funny anymore, please answer me,” I said as I was now running to catch up to this girl.

The girl stopped in her tracks looked back very quickly as if she was checking to make sure that nobody was following her before she continued on her way. In the quick few seconds that she turned around, I was able to recognize who she truly was. The girl that I had been chasing and who walked out of my house was me.

I caught up with myself and found that I had snuck out to the park. The memories flooded back to me as I watched the younger version of myself search around the park.

“Caroline! Where are you? I came to play,” The younger version of myself called out and I desperately tried to stop the younger me from seeing the scene that haunts me every single day. The reason why I never allowed people to get close to me or for me to get close to others. I rounded the corner of the tree and stopped as I saw the younger version of myself frozen with the look of fear etched on her face. The scene in front of us was something that still haunts me to this day.

(THROWBACK)

After my father’s death, I refused to leave the house because I wanted to watch after my mother at all times. She went through a huge depressive phase where I would come home from school and find pills scattered across the kitchen island, or I would find a bloody knife followed by bloody footprints. My mother tried to kill herself multiple times but she was never successful. Often she wouldn’t cut deep enough or she would immediately puke up the pills that she swallowed. I tried removing all sharp objects and pills from our house but she always managed to find them. Every time I came home, I would comfort my mother and tell her how much I loved her and that we were going to get through this. One night, after I had gotten my mother to sleep after she had attempted to cut her wrists and bleed out, I needed to get out of the house and get fresh air. I pulled a black hoodie over my clothes and quietly exited the house. I walked to the nearby park and sat down on the swingset. Tears fell down my face as I slowly pushed myself back and forth on the swing. I missed the way things used to be before my dad passed away. I missed when my mother was happy and she would play with me instead of crying herself to sleep every night. I missed when I was able to play like normal kids my age.

“Why are you crying?” A girl around my age sat down beside me on the swingset.

“I’m just sad and lonely,” I said as I stared at my feet as they dragged through the wood chips.

The girl got off of her swing and wrapped her arms around me and rubbed my shoulder in comfort.

“What was that for?” I said as the strange girl pulled away.

“My mother said hugs always make people feel better. I’m Caroline, let’s be friends.” She said as she grabbed my hand and pulled me off the swings.

“I’m (Y/N),” I said with a slight smile on my face. We walked around the park for about an hour just talking and playing until I decided that it was time to head back home. I quietly entered my house and walked upstairs to my bedroom. For once, since my father’s death, I felt happy. I planned to see Caroline the next day and fell asleep feeling like I was normal again. We met up every night around 7:00 and we would hang out for a few hours and then both go home. I told her everything about my mom and my dad and she never judged me. She always supported me and made me feel like I was human. She became my best friend.

A year and a half later, I was getting ready to go hang out with Caroline and my mother went through one of her episodes, so I was running a little on meeting up with Caroline. I finally got my mother settled down and I quietly snuck out of the house and began walking fastly away from the streetlights to get to the park before it was time for Caroline to get home. I approached the park and I didn’t see Caroline at the swings where we always met.

“Caroline! Where are you? I came to play,” I yelled as I walked around the park.

I assumed she would go to our secret spot behind the tree and to the creek so I decided to go there. As I approached the area, I began hearing slight noises so I was positive she was there. When I rounded the corner tree, I froze in my place and my heart dropped to my stomach and my lungs forgot how to breathe. A dark man kneeled over her body, as he pulled a knife from her chest. Her head had rolled over to the side and I saw my best friend’s lifeless eyes and her tattered face and I placed a hand over my mouth and I ran. I ran faster than I ever thought I could run and I ran straight into my house and locked my door and went upstairs to my room. I slid down my door and brought my knees up to my chest and sobbed so hard my whole body shook. I grabbed my trash can and puked my guts up and cried some more. I cried myself to sleep for a whole month. I had lost the one person who I loved more than anyone.

(End of Throwback)

I saw her lifeless body lay there as that man kneeled over her. I saw the younger version of myself run away. I stood there frozen and filled with sadness and anger. The man stood up and dropped the bloody knife in his bag and began to walk away. I ran over to Caroline’s lifeless body and sank to my knees beside her. I pulled her head into my lap and I ran my fingers through her matted hair as tears streamed down my face. Her favorite One Direction shirt was soaked in blood and her once beautiful skin was tainted with bruises and cuts. I held her body in my arms and cried. If I was never late on this day, I could’ve prevented this, I could’ve saved her life. This should be me in her place, she had so much to live for.

“I’m sorry,” I let out with a sob, “I’m so so so sorry Caroline, I failed you.”

I grabbed some of the flowers from the meadow beside the creek and placed them over her body. She always seemed to adore those small flowers. I kissed her forehead and gently sat her head down on the ground. I stood up and grabbed my knife from my backpack. Filled with rage, I walked in the direction of the bastard who did this. I saw him perched up against a rusty dented up car, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

“Hey Bastard,” I said as I approached him and he looked up and my fist collided with the side of his face and he fell to the ground. I got on top of him and continued to punch his face to the point where his blood stained my knuckles and his face was so bloody you could barely tell who he was.

“Who are you?” He asked, his voice trembled.

“Your worst enemy,” I growled as I spotted Caroline’s blood stained on his shirt.

“Please, I don’t even know you, lady, I haven’t done anything to you,” He pleaded as I reached behind me and pulled out my knife from my back pocket.

“Oh but you have, you son of a bitch, and I hope you rot in hell,” I said and plunged the knife deep into his chest. I saw the fear in his eyes as he began stuttering for air. I plunged the knife back in his chest and I repeated this action. I closed my eyes and continued to stab his lifeless body. I saw him murdering Caroline over and over again in my head and I felt his blood splatter against me. I pulled the knife out of his chest and sat it down beside me. I opened my eyes and my whole heart dropped and it felt like the world was spinning. The man who killed my best friend was no longer there and in his place was the love of my life.

“Gr-Gr-Gray,” I let out a small sob and pushed his matted hair from his forehead. His lifeless brown eyes stared into my own and I started to attempt to do CPR. His blood was all over my body and the knife laid beside his body.

“NO, PLEASE, YOU CAN NOT LEAVE ME, GRAYSON I NEED YOU,” I sobbed as I continued to do compressions. Nothing happened, and I gave up. I laid my head on his lifeless chest and sobbed. His once calming heartbeat was absent. My whole body shook as the sobs raked through my body.

“What have I done?” I muttered under my breath. I reached for his once warm hands and brought it up to my lips. I kissed his hands and placed a kiss on his cold lifeless lips. My tears fell on his face. I took a deep breath and picked up the knife that laid beside him. The same knife that I thought I killed Caroline’s murder with but instead it was my lover, my soulmate, the one person who completed me and made me feel like I belonged. I looked at it and only one solution ran through my head.

“I’ll be with you soon baby,” I said through the tears and raised the knife up towards me but before I could plunge it through my heart someone tackled me.

Grayson’s POV

As I was waiting for (Y/N) to walk through those doors, I paced up and down the room. I sat down and placed my head between my knees and began to pray in hopes that it would work. I heard the doors open and my head immediately shot up expecting to see her walk through the doors. I expected to wrap her in my arms and kiss her all over her face and lips and tell her how much I truly love her. I expected us to walk out hand in hand and go see our families and tell them that we were safe and introduce them to us. But when that door opened, she didn’t walkthrough. I got up and walked to the door and looked down the dark hallway. I heard a faint sob that sounded like (Y/N)’s and I took off running through the hall towards the sound. I got closer and closer and finally, I turned into a room and there she was kneeling on the ground sobbing and holding a knife.

“I’ll be with you soon baby,” She said and lifted the knife up as she was going to plunge it in her heart. My heart dropped and I reacted quickly. I tackled her and grabbed the knife from her hands and I threw it across the room. I held her in my arms as I felt her whole body shake from her sobs. She looked up and her eyes filled with hope and her face changed.

“Grayson?” She questioned.

(Y/N)’s POV

I was tackled before I could plunge the knife in my heart and the knife was yanked from my hands and thrown across the room. A pair of arms brought me close to their chest and just held on to me as sobs raked through my body. When I looked up, my heart began to beat again. Grayson was right there and alive and he was holding me and he was real.

“Grayson?” I questioned.

“Yeah baby girl, it’s me, I’m right here,” He said and placed his lips on mine. I kissed back and wrapped my arms around his neck. Tears continued to fall down my eyes. I pulled away and looked over to where Grayson’s once dead body laid and it was gone.

“You are here, thank god. I thought you were dead, I thought I killed you,” I said through my tears as I kissed him again.

“I’m right here baby, and I’m going nowhere. You are stuck with me for the rest of your life because I love you (Y/F/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) so much and I will love you till the day I die. Now let’s get out of here so that we can see our families again.” Grayson said as he grabbed my hand and pulled me up. We held hands as we walked back through the hallway and to the exit.

———————————————————————

Chapter nine is done! I hope you guys enjoy this series as much as I enjoy writing it. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on how the series is going so far. As always let me know if you have any requests, concepts, or blurbs. Chapter ten will probably be up in the next few days. Part tenof The Principals Office should be up within the next couple of days as well. Sorry for my inactivity lately, I promise I’ll be better about posting. Love you guys 🥺😊💛

Tags: @dolanshellyes @graysavant @graydolan12 @flowery-dolan @dolan-bliss @justordinaryjen @dickdowndolan @dolans4lyfe @lanelessdolan @pineappledols @reblogserpent @frickin-bats @cautiouscalum @grays-laugh @youtuberimagines12 @minecraftgamerr @wrcn9fvlcver @buildermangray @highoffdolan @beautorigin

#grayson dolan fix #grayson x reader #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan imagines #grayson dolan imagine #grayson dolan sad #grayson dolan series #ethan dolan #ethan dolan au #dolan twins #dolan twins series #dolan twins angst #dolan twins au #dolan twins imagines #panic!grayson

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purpleswans1 · 5 years

Text

The Attack on Mount Lady

A contribution to my Villain!Izuku AU using the prompt “Consequences.” In regards to the content... I’m just going to say I am so, so sorry guys.

Read also on FF and AO3

“Are you excited, Uraraka?” Izuku asked.

Uraraka bit her lip. “Somewhat, but… Are you sure we should be doing this?”

Izuku frowned. “What do you mean? Mount Lady has proven time and again that she doesn’t fit the criteria of a true hero. She’s the reason your father died and your family was stuck with a load of debt. Isn’t it right that we take her down and expose her for the fraud that she is?”

“Technically, the hero commision were the ones who covered the whole thing up.”

“But Mount Lady still holds most of the blame. And every time we take down a pro hero, especially if we expose their wrongdoing, the commision loses some of its power.”

Uraraka sighed. “I get that, but I just can’t shake this feeling that things won’t go our way.”

“That’s why I have so many contingency plans in place.” Izuku touched her arm. “If you really don’t want to, we can postpone the attack for a later date…”

Uraraka shook her head. “No, this is the best day for us to do this. It’s probably just nerves.”

“Okay then. Let’s go.”

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

Mount Lady isn’t a fan of patrols.

She knows why she has to do them.Make your presence known, get a chance to interact with citizens, defer thoughts of crime, etc. etc. Didn’t change the fact that they were so boring. She could be doing a lot more interesting stuff such as interviews, filming commercials, and flirting with commision representatives. Those were also important for her image.

But no, she had to go out and walk the streets, letting random perverts take her picture just to prove she was doing her job. Ah well, maybe she’ll be able to get some free food from a sympathetic food stand owner. It was almost lunchtime after all.

She noticed a food truck owner that was a big fan of hers and headed his way. Before she could could flag him down, someone bumped into her.

Mount Lady frowned. "You should watch where you're going."

"Oh, sorry about that," the stranger said. "I've been looking for you, Yu Takeyama."

Why is he using my civilian name? "You know you can make an appointment with my agency, right?"

The stranger smirked. "Oh, this isn't something you want to be on the record."

He raised his head, giving Mount Lady a clear view of his face. Her heart froze.

That's the guy who almost killed Endeavour!

Mount Lady leaned back into a fighting position. "What do you want, villain?"

Analyst -- that’s his name -- laughed. “Why, we’re here to judge you, of course!”

“We?” Mount Lady asked.

The civilians ran away, having figured out that a villain fight was about to break out. There were only five people that didn’t try to escape. They walked in the opposite direction of the others, surrounding Mount Lady and supporting Analyst. She recognized four of them from the Quirk Revolutionaries’ debut. The fifth was wearing a white mask covering half his face, but he was somewhat familiar.

Analyst unzipped his hoodie and pulled out a… net? “Our current society is unwilling and unable to prosecute you for your crimes, so it is up to the Quirk Revolutionaries to dispense justice!”

Mount Lady grit her teeth. “I have no idea what crimes you’re talking about. The only criminals here are you!” She began to grow, reaching out to attack the villain in front of her.

In a flash, a rope was wrapped around her neck, strangling her.

“Good job, Spinner, Elemental.” Analyst said.

Their plan is just to strangle me? Mound Lady thought. Well, I’ll just throw them off when I get big.

She continued to grow, but the rope continued to bite into her neck. She fell on her back, trying to give herself some slack. She looked out of the corner of her eye and realized the rope was attached to a manhole cover. She’d be able to pull it out easily enough if she was at full size, but in order to get that big she’d have to strangle herself.

Maybe I can slip out if I go back to normal size. She started to shrink again.

Spinner grabbed the rope and pulled it taught. “You’re not slipping away that easily.”

Analyst walked up beside her, drabing the net over her legs as he went. “Your weaknesses are so obvious, it’s a wonder you were able to pass a certified Hero Studies Program. Your strength is proportional to your size, so as long as you can’t grow you’re essentially powerless. You can’t fight in enclosed areas, but for our purposes it’s easy to simply make it so you’ll hurt yourself if you try to grow.”

Mount Lady tried to grow again, but stopped immediately when the rope around her neck tightened uncomfortably. She thrashed around to try and get out, but only succeeded in getting tangled up in the net.

Finally, she stopped struggling and simply glared at the villains, recognizing defeat. “Well then, what are you waiting for? Your plan worked; you’ve got me.”

Analyst pulled out a gun. “Comet?”

The girl Mount Lady recognized as Comet stepped forward. She threw back her hood, revealing a young, round face framed by a bob cut.

“Do you recognize her?” Analyst asked Mount Lady.

“...Should I?” Mount Lady gave the girl a closer look, but still couldn’t remember anything.

Analyst’s gun shook with rage. “You really don’t remember? Of course not, you don’t even realize how much harm you caused....”

“Deku.” Comet placed her hand on top of Analyst’s, taking hold of the gun. “It’s okay.”

“But you shouldn’t have…”

Comet shook her head. “You said you’d let me choose her punishment, right? Let me handle this.”

Analyst stared at Comet for a moment, but eventually relinquished the gun to her.

Comet turned to look at Mount Lady again. “It would have been.. almost a year and a half now. You were in the middle of a villain fight. I think it was against Trapezius Head Gear? You were so focused on the fight, you accidentally crashed into a construction site.”

Mount Lady frowned. She could vaguely remember that, but didn’t remember anything special about the incident.

“My father and five of his employees were killed by a falling I-beam.”

Mount Lady sucked in her breath. “That… That was because of me?”

“Yes.” Comet walked up until she was standing on Mount Lady’s right side, staring down at her. “I would have understood it if that was all that happened -- After all, it was the villain’s fault for attacking in the first place. But when we tried to get money for dad’s and the employee’s life insurance, the hero commision covered everything up. They claimed the accident happened because my father didn’t follow safety protocols. My family’s company was liable for the accident, and had to pay for both my father’s funeral and reparations to the dead employee’s families”

Mount Lady shook her head. “I swear, I didn’t know anything about that! The hero commision took care of everything I had nothing to do with it!”

“I believe you.” Comet’s eyes were kind. “Honestly, I don’t think I really hate you. This was mostly Analyst’s idea, but I can see the wisdom in it. What I really hate is the hero commision, but they’re too big to attack directly. This is the only way to cause real change.”

Comet kneeled down and pushed Mount Lady on her side. “I’m going to shoot you directly in your spinal cord. It shouldn’t be lethal, but you’ll be paralized from the waist down. You’ll never be able to work as a hero again.

Tears fell from Mount Lady’s eyes, leaving tracks along the side of her nose and to her ear. She didn’t make a sound though. If what she’s saying is true, maybe this is what I deserve…

“Get away from her, you villains!”

Analyst turned to the new intruders. “It’s Fatgum. He got here faster than I expected.”

Dabi frowned. “Hey, who are those two with him?”

Indeed, Fatgum was running through the street in their direction, flanked by two other heroes. They weren’t as recognizable as the pro, and from their ages were likely still in high school.

Analyst swore. “That’s Suneater. I only know the basics of his abilities. The other one…”

Elemental’s breath caught. “Kirishima.”

Analyst ran over to Comet’s side. “We need to finish up quickly. Dabi, focus on Fatgum. Keep him away from us. Spinner, Toga, you get Suneater. Elemental…” He looked at the final member, worried.

Elemental nodded. “I’ll handle Kirishima. I know his style.”

Analyst didn’t look happy. “Stick to one side. I don’t want to expose you to early.”

Elemental nodded and joined his team members in attacking the heroes.

Analyst grabbed Comet’s shoulder. “Hurry up. We need to go.”

“R-right.” Coment’s body, fro her arms to her knees, was shaking. “Mind holding her for me? I need both hands to shoot straight.”

Analyst kneeled down next to her, replacing her hands in holding Mount Lady on her side.

Comet took a deep breath. And another. And another. She had the gun in two hands and it was pressed up against the hero’s back, but she didn’t pull the trigger. At least, not yet.

“Please, Uraraka.” Analyst whispered. “I’m not sure how much longer everyone else will be able to hold out.”

Comet nodded. “You’re right. Just…”

An octopus tentacle shot out and knocked both of them back. Analyst quickly recovered and pulled out a knife. “Dammit, Suneater!”

Suneater was holding both Toga and Spinner down with tentacles covered in clam shells bursting from his left hand. The tentacles in his right hand shot out to attack Analyst and Comet again, but were disintegrated by red flames.

Elemental ran to support his allies, followed closely by Kirishima. Suneater backed up slightly, nursing his burt tentacles. Kirishima reached out, about to grab Elemental’s hoodie.

“Shit!” Analyst grabbed the gun beside him and skillfully shot Kirishima.

The bullet didn’t do any damage. Kirishima had instinctively hardened his hand. It did distract him though, and gave Elemental a chance to knock Suneater off his allies.

“He’s got a gun!” Kirishima shouted.

Analyst started to back away. He almost tripped after a few steps. His leg had gotten tangled up in the net. He leaned down and quickly cut the rope with his knife.

The distraction was just enough for Kirishima. “You’re going down!”

A few steps later, his leg was encased in ice, a very familiar cold holding him in place.

“Fire… and ice?” Kirishima breathed.

Analyst looked up. “Dammit, I told you to stick to one side!”

Elemental finched, but shot a red flame at Suneater again.

A new voice came from the opposite side of the street. “We got here just in time!”

Analyst turned around. The Dragoon Hero, Ryuku, was running into the fray. She was followed by her own interns, Nejire-chan and Asui.

With this, we’re basically outnumbered, Analyst realized.

Dabi backed up into Analyst. “What’s the plan, bossman?”

“We need to retreat,” Analyst said.

Dabi looked side to side. “I doubt the exit plan you came up with will work in this scenario.”

Analyst bit his lip. He’s right.

“Deku… my leg is stuck!” Comet shouted.

Analyst turned to her. The net was tangled up in her left leg, caught in the straps of her air thrusters.

He kneeled down. “I’ll cut you out!”

“No time!” Dabi summoned his blue flame.

“You’ll burn her along with the net!” Analyst shouted.

Ryuku, now in dragon form, jumped to attack them. Dabi was able to push her back with his flame, but only barely.

Comet breathed heavily. “I’ve got an idea. All of you need to get together and let me touch you.”

Analyst frowned. “What are you…”

“Guys! Huddle up!” Dabi shouted.

Toga, Spinner, and Elemental ran to the others. One by one, Comet touched each of her teammates.

Suneater took a moment to breath. Nejire-chan ran up to him.

“The Quirk Revolutionaries… The leader is Analyst.” Nejire-chan said.

Suneater nodded. “He’s the one Mirio is interested in.”

Comet waited to touch Analyst last. “Everybody, grab onto Deku. Elemental, Dabi, you two should be able to navigate with your fire.” She looked Analyst straight in the eye. “It’ll be just like in practice, but without the weighted line.”

Analyst’s head spun from all the information he was trying to process. “Right… that’ll work… And you’ll be following with your jets?”

Comet smiled sadly. “There isn’t enough time to get me untangled.”

Wait, then how will she… “No! There’s got to be another way! Just give me a second to think of something…”

“Goodby, Deku.”

Just before Comet threw him into the air, Izuku felt the other members of the team grab him. Dabi and Shoto grabbed an elbow each, Spinner clung to his shoulder, and Toga wrapped her arms around his waist. They shot up into the sky together, weightless.

“No! Send us back down! I have to save her!” Izuku shouted.

“Idiot! You said we needed to retreat!” Dabi shouted.

“We can’t leave her!”

“Please… Izukun…” Toga’s weightless tears wet the back of Izuku’s neck. “Bestie wouldn’t want this.”

The tears were what finally snapped Izuku to his senses. “Toga… you guys… I’m so…”

“Don’t say you’re sorry,” Shoto said. “You did everything you could.”

“Uraraka sacrificed herself to save us.” Spinner reminded him. “It was her choice.”

They all floated in silence after that. They continued to ascend, aiming for the clouds above. Whenever air resistance caused them to slow down, Shoto and Dabi would shoot off fire blasts to propel everyone up again.

Once they broke through the clouds and reached an altitude where they struggled to breath, Dabi changed their direction to start looking for a landing area for whenever Uraraka released them from her quirk.

Izuku was suddenly struck with a thought. “Um… guys? How are we going to explain this to the kids?”

Nobody provided an answer. In the end, it would be Izuku who’d sit Eri and Kota down and tearfully explain why Big Sis Uraraka wasn’t coming home.

#villain month 2019 #mha villain au #villain izuku #villain uraraka #izuku x uraraka #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #violence tw #i'm sorry guys #myfanfic

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ryankarloramos-blog · 5 years

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Barangay Poblacion - A historical but a hazardous “national treasure”

Hazard: Gas stations beside residencesWe all know that gasoline fuels fires and cause possible explosions. With these right next to residences, people, including us are very vulnerable to these situations. These gas station should have been built a bit farther away from residences and a shoe supply warehouse.Biñan is one of the most historical places in the Philippines, specifically in my local barangay, barangay Poblacion. Not just the town center of Binan can be found in Barangay Poblacion, but also some old Spanish houses including the house of the parents of Jose Rizal, the Alberto house. In addition to that, this is also the barangay where J. Rizal had his first formal schooling.

Map of Biñan (Taken from: Google Maps)

Wrecked Alberto house due to a typhoon (Taken from: Wikipedia, unknown photographer; photo taken in October 22, 2012)

Restored Alberto House (present day)

The street sign leading to the school of Rizal

School of Rizal, restored

According to Philippine Statistics Authority, Biñan has a population of 333,028 as of September 30, 2019. As the heart of the city, I think that these problems should be addressed as soon as possible, not just for aesthetic purposes but most especially, for safety.

Interview with Kap. Lloyd Castelltort

My interview with Kap. Lloyd was on December 21, 2019. He pointed out that the most disaster to be anticipated always is the flooding, because our area is situated next to a river, and it is prone to what will be mentioned later. The former design of the river was not that good. Because the wall near the dam has a “hole”. And the countermeasure done was the riverwalk, which will also be mentioned later. As of today, with the riverwalk completed, the reason why there are still flooding is because the depth of the river is not that good, and the trash that backflows from the canals. A proposal was made for this. Manholes that would automatically close to prevent these backflows, but takes in water from the outside. Also the excavation/dredging of the river was already started, and a Chinese contact of theirs donated a barge to help dredge the river. He said that a few years back, the barangay next to us would immediately flood up with just a little rain, but improvements have been observed since the start of the dredging.

The barangay would know that if there is an incoming calamity, they would know it from the social media. But their primary source is from the office of the mayor also known as their command center or C3. They are the ones to monitor and respond to typhoons or earthquakes. The command center disseminates the information across the 24 barangays in Biñan and give orders to the barangay officials and tell them what to do. The city also has its own radio station, Radyo Biñan, also from the command center. They provide updates that concerns the city. The command center, as told by Kap. Lloyd, have radars so the barangays depend on them for information and orders. Roughly two years ago, there was a massive fire in our barangay, almost reached us. The command center was the one who sent firetrucks and firefighters to fend off the fire. They also have rescue vehicles whenever there are typhoons, earthquakes, etc.

Ever since, the main problem of our barangay was flooding, because as mentioned earlier, we are situated next to the river. Therefore, the houses literally right next to the river are the most affected/vulnerable ones. The evacuation center is plaza’s covered court. The medical kits, disaster tools, and radios to contact CSWD and the command center is located in the office of the covered court. The command center and other barangays send teams to help organize the people in the evacuation center, if ever the case arises. They help give medical attention, food, and other services like the transportation using the rescue vehicles.

The disasters would not really affect the lifestyle and jobs of the people, because as said by Kap. Lloyd, most of the people are working and selling in the public market, wherein the typhoon and flood would not greatly affect them. The only problem is that their houses, when destroyed by typhoons, are the only ones affected and not their jobs and lifestyles.

The preparations being done by the barangay are public address, wherein there are sirens in main streets and a counselor would alert and advise people to ready up their things for incoming floods and other calamities.

Community Walk

In the walk, we travelled the main street of the barangay leading to the town center. We encountered several hazards.

The main street

These identifiable hazards around barangay Poblacion include the following:

Bombardment of tricycles in the main street/town center

Two gas stations beside residences

Low depth of the sub-basin/river

Waste disposal problems

1. Hazard: Bombardment of tricycles and vegetables and fruit dealers in the main street/town center

The ever-growing number of tricycles in Biñan are causing not just traffic, but also undisciplined and unruly streets that can potentially lead impatient drivers into road rages. Also, what if there was an emergency and an ambulance needs to swiftly get through due to an emergency? These tricycles would be an obstruction to traffic and might even be the cause of the death of patient. In the picture shown below, during nighttime is the worst. Plastic bags and carts of vegetables are just scattered on the ground, and even worse, there are vehicles parked at the round-about wherein it should really be easily passable. They are even parked right in front of the no parking sign.

Possible solution: In an article from Politiko South Luzon (2019), former city mayor of Biñan, now the congresswoman of the lone district of Biñan, Hon. Marlyn “Len” B. Alonte, purchased last August 2019, forty new e-trikes to help reduce the air pollution in the town. The recipients of these newly purchased e-tikes are the Biñan police and the Biñan City Culture, History, Arts and Tourism Office. They should also limit the numbers of tricycles in a single toda because it is simply getting out of hand. Also, reinforce the streets with police or local government units that should apprehend these violators.

Hon. Marlyn Alonte and vice mayor Gel alonte with a representative alongside the newly purchased e-trike (taken from: South Luzon Politics)

2. Hazard: Gas stations beside residences

We all know that gasoline fuels fires and cause possible explosions. With these right next to residences, people, including us are very vulnerable to these situations. These gas station should have been built a bit farther away from residences and a shoe supply warehouse.

Possible solution: Kap. Lloyd mentioned that these gas stations, as well as other gas stations, have emergency shut-off valve whenever there are incidents that involve fires and other malfunctions. He also said that these incidents would not just arise from nothing , but from intended acts like arson in these gas stations. It is not always alright to just rely on these emergency shut-off valves, but we should also be prepared whenever there comes a time that unwanted events would occur. These automatic shut-off valves will be automatically activated when the sensors within the gas stations sensed/detected an increase in thermal activity or smoke.

3. Hazard: Low depth of the river depth/excavation

The Biñan sub-basin/river extends from the southern part of Metro Manila all the way to Tagaytay, Cavite. The depth of the part where Brgy. Poblacion is covered by this river is not that deep. This was one of the culprits that made the city flooded during typhoons and low pressure areas. Some improper waste disposal also contributes to the flooding of the town.

Taken from: Hydrologic Atlas of the 24 Sub-basins of Laguna de Bay 2012 by the Laguna Lake Development Agency (LLDA)

Possible solution: The former design of the Biñan river was flawed wherein the end-part of the wall that prevents the water from the dam to enter the river was not “complete”. Therefore, whenever they release water from that dam, it would flow to the Biñan river causing floods. Kap. Lloyd mentioned that it the deepening of this river from end-to-end (exclusive in Biñan river). There are two purposes of this riverwalk, one is for flood control, and the other is for recreational activities of the people.

Proper waste disposal must be strictly implemented not just in our city, but also in the whole country as well as the rest of the world. Because this is one of the easiest ways to reduce disasters due to flooding, but it is somehow being neglected by other people. Therefore, most people suffer from the irresponsible acts of the many.

Biñan riverwalk and depth of the river, present day (Taken from: Politiko South Luzon)

I hope that these mentioned hazards will be addressed as soon as possible to protect its people and to preserve the national treasures and legacies left behind by our ancestors. Being equipped with proper knowledge on disaster risk reduction and disciplining ourselves to simply obeying traffic rules to waste disposal will have great impact on our country.

Photo with Kap. Lloy Castelltort

Photos without references were taken by the author of this article

References:

https://psa.gov.ph/classification/psgc/?q=psgc/barangays/043403000

https://southluzon.politics.com.ph/2019/08/04/len-alonte-gets-e-trikes-from-doe-for-binan/

Google maps

https://southluzon.politics.com.ph/2018/12/28/hi-tech-2-km-walkway-across-binan-river-opens-to-public/

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blackevermore · 5 years

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Twinkle Twinkle

[ Taz x Mikey ]

Summary: Taz came to NY for the holidays and brought lights

Genre: Wholesome

Warning(s): None

Word count: 2,200

A/N: I was putting lights up for my grandmother and I could only imagine Me and Mikey having fun together. That’s where this short story comes from. I even threw in future comic plot twist (shhhh)

x Taz loved twinkling lights and mood lights. Not street lights that needed to be fix or neon signs that have been abused over the years, but little room and window lights she could hang. Back home, she made it a mission to decorate every window in her apartment with twinkling lights. Her bedroom was a beacon of mood lights that sat behind her headboard, dresser, and vanity for her changing light pleasures when she turned them on. She couldn't explain the way the lights made her feel without repeating the same string of words. The way the lite up the room and reflected off people's skin just felt good to see. It made her feel mellow and relaxed. But only in a private setting, not large city scenes or clubs. Those just made her uncomfortable and wanting to hurry home and hide under her blanket.

x Christmas was a scapegoat for Taz to buy a shit ton of lights and abuse her rights to decorate. As soon as November 24th rolled past, she was running towards her favourite stores to snag every type of lights. When she told April, she was flying up to New York for the rest of December the poor girl didn't realize her cousin would bring a suitcase of lights with her. April refused to put up an argument when Taz went to work lining the windows. It was a beautiful sight, especially when Taz put in the work to spell out April's name across the pannels.

"What are you doing?" April poured herself another cup of hot chocolate and drowned marshmallows.

"I'm going to decorate the fire escape," Taz answered, slipping on her boots and coat quickly. She had a large bag strapped around her shoulder with more lights and rolls of tape.

"Where are you really going?" April rolled her eyes and placed a hand on her hip as she walked closer to her younger cousin. Taz gave a weak smile and shook her head, no use in lying to a news reporter and very nosy journalist. When Taz went to answer her April put up a hand to silence her, took a swig from her mug, then lowered it with an all-knowing look in her eyes. "Tell the guys I said 'hi' and that I'm sorry I haven't visited. Hothead boss has been down my back."

"Will do! Keep the window unlocked this time!" Taz slid the window frame up and climbed out.

x In mere minutes Taz was humming down a familiar dark street and flipping through her social media. Laughing at comments left on her tiktoks and even replying to some. She heard the click of her heel boots over the abnormally large manhole she realize she had arrived. Getting to the lair was second-hand nature for her at this point. How in the world no one realized that the size of this manhole cover was bigger, then the rest was beyond her. That was the magic of New York, no one cared to give a damn if something was out of the norm unless it affects them directly. In other words, mind your damn business, Karen. She placed the bag down beside her as she bent down to put in the code Donnie gave her. When the green dot lit up, she quickly shot to her feet and stood above the metal ring so it could lower her down.

x "Guys!" Taz called out but was met with silence. It was rather dark, which meant that everyone was either really busy doing whatever or they were gone. "Yo Guys!" Taz called out again to make sure if they didn't hear her the first time they caught it the second. When she still didn't get an answer she shrugged and went over to the couch to place her bag down. They must have already been out on daily night patrol. She looked around the lair with warm eyes, it had been two and a half months since she's been here. It kinda sucked that no one was home, but that also meant she could decorate without protest from with Raph or Leo.

x Last year she asked to put up lights, and Raph was against it after Mikey made the 'okay' symbol hand sign right on the ceiling. Of course, everyone else thought it was funny, but Raph really wanted to bop Mikey on the head. Leo didn't necessarily care about the lights since they did look nice when he meditated. But he did care for Raph to not throw a fit. This year, however, Taz was going to hang designs above every brother's bed. She bought respectable colour lights for every turtle and even their dad.

x She pulled out her phone to check the time, it was 8:30pm, which meant she had about another two hours before the team would be back. She pulled off her coat and kicked off her shoes behind the couch. She had to get comfortable if she was going to be climbing on furniture, balancing lights, and taping them. She pulled out her phone and headphones and quickly plugged in to give her something to work to.

x She started in Leo and Raph's room and started with the red man himself. She pulled out the standard round cone red shell lights and started taping and dangling them around the makeshift headboard. She went ahead and wrapped some lights around the legs of the bed and under it so the floor would glow. She had also bought funny clip ons that said 'Red Hot' and attached them between a few lights. She moved on to Leo's bed and pulled out lilly-shaped blue lights.

x She knew he was big about tranquillity, so flowers were a perfect match. She had to figure out how to make the flowers stick up instead of just slapping them on willy nilly. The slow song that was playing had just ended, and a faster beat kicked up, and her brain started turning. She started singing out loud as she figured out how to position the lillies around the bed. She settled on the idea of them hanging around the frame like a flower boat. She placed a flew lilly lights on the headboard, but most of them were around the bottom. When she was happy with her work, she picked up her bag and headed to the next room. Kpop started up and even without knowing the words she sang along.

x Donnie lights were more so a gag gift she spotted in the kid's aisle that she knew would make the others laugh. Star Wars theme lights with the Millennium Falcon and Tie ship lined against the wiring. Of course, these lights couldn't simply drape over his headboard. That was too easy for him to take down and throw away. She had to hand them above his head, with the ceiling being in a reasonable latter reach Taz went to work causing trouble. She finished the Star War lights then turned back to her bag to pull out more lights, they were all blue this time. Donnie was her favourite to poke fun at, but that didn't mean she didn't respect him.

"OH AH AH AH AH!" Taz yelled at the top of her lungs as Down With The Sickness came on just as she tapped the last string of blue lights across Donnie's headboard. What Taz hadn't realized was that she was being watched by a very worried yet chucking rat dad who had been home the whole time. He was enjoying the pure joy the young girl was having as she set up lights in his son's room. Splinter was sure they would get a kick out of them as well. He wasn't going to interrupt Taz and went back to his room. This time with his own pair of headphones to block out her screaming-I mean singing.

With Mikey's bed, Taz had picked out two sets of lights, orange hearts and pizza slices she somehow found at a thrift shop. Of course, she was going to go all out with how she set up Mikey's bed. This was her baby, her boo, her man, her silly bean sweetheart! She was going to make a princess canopy with the pizza lights (thank god she bought every set of them) and dangle the orange lights between the rows. First, she needed a ladder because standing on Mickey's bed was not going to help her. She went out to the living room and to a random closet she was sure the ladder would be in. Thank god it was or she would have spent the next hour trying to find it. She hauled the ladder back to the room and set in place.

"Oye cariño, sólo pienso en ti / When I wake up in the morning until I go back to sleep." Taz was more proud of herself by saying the Spanish lyrics than her hanging skills. Mikey had been helping her learn Spanish for the past three months, and it was finally paying off. She thought it was weird how each other could speak a second language so fluently but couldn't speak the same language as the other. It did leave it up to the imagination when fights broke out. With the last set of lights tapped, Taz looked between the two beds and smiled in success. She took a step down the ladder, but her foot messed the bar, and she felt herself falling. She tried to grab onto the ladder, but a pair of hands grabbed her waist and pulled her down. Taz panicked for a moment then calmed down when she heard soft chuckles through her music.

x She pulled a headphone out from her ear and hit Mikey on her shoulder.

"Why do I get attacked?! I saved you!" Mikey laughed and pulled her closer.

"Saved? You scared the hell out of my Angel. When did you get back? Wait! Raph and Leo haven't seen their room yet have they?!" Taz started on a long ramble of worry as the orange turtle sat there with wide eyes. Finally, he placed a finger over her lips to shush her, Taz narrowed her eyes then licked him to get it off.

"You know that doesn't work on me, and no they haven't, though I don't think you want Don to see his." Mikey giggled and point to the lights.

"Oh no, I do want him to see it, but it was meant to be a surprise." Taz sighed with slumped shoulders and threw the tape on Mikey's bed. "Well surprise." Taz pressed the light button on both power boxes for Mikey's bed to come alive and twinkle in patterns.

"Oh wow babycakes this is stunning." Mikey had noticed the lights when he snuck in, but now that they were on, they looked terrific. As he watched the lights, Taz watched his face, the same face she made when she looked at lights. That lost but safe feeling that only the lights could give her when she was lost in thought. Mikey was like her in more ways than one and that made her heart beat faster. She tried to calm the flutters in her heart before he notices. She looked down to her hands to twiddle her fingers, but when she saw the tips of her fingers starting to glow, she threw them behind her back.

x Not this. Not right now.

x "Oh, baby thank you!" Mikey snapped her out of her thoughts when he pulled her into a hug and kissed all over her face. Taz shook her head and pushed him away for a moment then pulled him into a proper kiss. Mikey wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her up to spin in circles. When he finally let her down that's when they broke away for air. The couple was a giggling mess until someone at the door cleared their throat.

x Donnie stood in the door unimpressed as he eyed his bed up and down. Taz held up a finger telling him to wait, there was more, she skipped over and pressed the power box, and the light came on. Donnie facepalmed.

"Star Wars, really? You could have gotten me anything else." Don groaned half-heartedly, not truly disappointment in Taz's shenanigans.

"Yeah but you're a nerd and nerds love Star Wars. Next time I'll get Star Terk or DnD just to make you happy."

"Ster Terk is a very respectable pop culture classic that could stand the test of time and still come out more successful with a new movie or reboot. Don't disrespect the classics." Donnie shot her a look and Taz rolled her eyes.

"Mikey I'm going to go turn on the other's lights before they notice them. When I'm done help me decorate the rest of the lair before Raph tells me no?"

"Hell yeah!" Mikey replied as his baby girl ran across the living room to the other rooms. Leo and Raph gave her strange looks then turned to the youngest two to explain. Donnie threw up his hands and walked over to his lab and out of sight, and Mikey only shrugged.

#tmnt michelangelo #tmnt #rotmnt #michelangelo #my angel #s/i #s/i x canon #f/o #self ship #self shipping #my writing #writing short #fictional other

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ninaahelvar · 6 years

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The Stakeout (2/5)

Summary: In order to get all the information they can, the detective duo, Bakugou and Uraraka, must go on a stakeout. But close proximity may force some underlying feelings to come to the surface. Also known as “Bakugou had a really bad date and it gives him perspective”

AO3

A/N: Look, I said to myself this chapter would be easy. It, in fact, wasn't. I wanna make the excuse that I've been so sick that writing hasn't been happening - which is true - but I've had an allergic reaction in my hands for the past few days and guess when most of the writing has been happening? Yeah. Anyway. Sorry. Big fucking shoutout to @doesitsaysassonmyuniform who helped plan and write a lot of this chapter when I became super blocked. You're my lifesaver and I would die for you. Anyway, hope everyone likes this chapter! Enjoy! xx

Two days had passed, and it had become acutely aware to Bakugou that Uraraka would be the death of him. Being cramped with her in a shitty rundown motel room was testing his patience, and his resolve to never get arrested for murder. Especially if she kept fucking sighing like a wistful woman waiting for someone to save her sorry ass. She was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, her head knocking against the wood as another hour passed. Another sigh escaped her, and Bakugou snapped.

“Would you shut the fuck up!” he spat at her from the chair. He peered over the computer screen, watching the unmoving alleyway for the one thousandth time. Uraraka sighed dramatically again and Bakugou huffed, letting himself sink back into his chair and let his head hang back as he watched her. She walked lazily towards the bed.

The room wasn’t particularly big, a king sized bed against the wall, a small space that they had set up their computer system against the window, but just out of sight from those on the street. Being on the third floor, it would be hard to look in - but still, they were cautious. They had a small entrance hall where most of their food was put each morning along with the coffee. But they all hated it, preferring to go to the shop across the street. Then, there was only space for a bathroom the size of a broom closet, managing to squeeze in a bathtub with the shower extension on the wall - one Bakugou only just managed to fit under if he tilted his head - as well as the toilet beside it and a small ass mirror and sink. There was barely room to breathe in the cramped space.

“I hate stakeouts,” Uraraka groaned as she flopped down on the single king size. She bounced a few times before her weight settled into the mattress. “They’re always so boring.” Her voice was muffled, but her exasperation made it through loud and clear.

“What’s that supposed to mean, Round Face?” he sniped, and Uraraka perked, rolling onto her side and facing him. “It was two fucking days ago when you said you loved stakeouts,” he scoffed and Uraraka huffed.

“I forgot the waiting!” she whined, rolling straight off the bed and onto the floor. She hit the floor hard, even though she could have easily stopped herself. Bakugou rubbed at the bridge of his nose - how the hell was she his partner again? “Being stuck with you for hours on end is like my own circle of hell.” The drawl of her mocking tone teased him. When he turned to her, he snarled, seeing her scrunching up her nose at him.

“As if - I’m a fucking delight!” He caught Uraraka’s lips curve into a smile, before a chuckle escaped her which turned into a buckling laugh that had her back down on the floor. He rolled his eyes, and went back to the work, watching the stupid security door that had seen no activity other than a man pissing up the side of the wall.

In his periphery Bakugou saw her sit up, dragging her limbs in some fit of melodrama. He tried to pay attention to the security feed, but fuck if this shit wasn’t boring. At least he’d accepted what this stupid stakeout meant, instead of wasting time bitching over something they couldn’t control. They’d been over this routine a million times before - the anticipation of a case, the adrenaline that it could happen at any moment.

But, it always ended in silence and the long wait for something other than a rat scrounging around for food. The pair left the day with the knowledge that there were a fucktonne of bricks in the building across the street, and that the ceiling was in fact painted an off white and not eggshell like Uraraka kept suggesting. That argument almost ended with their last coffee pot being thrown against the wall, but they successfully worked around that issue with a colour guide online. For the first time since being caught in the motel with her, Bakugou slept more than four hours. Managing a solid seven before Uraraka woke him with singing.

She really couldn’t carry a tune. Or even have good song choice. He didn’t even want to make out the words, some fucking weird shit about love and moonlight and dancing or some shit. Bakugou groaned and rolled off the bed, finding his shit and moving to the bathroom to drown out her voice. He was lucky that Kirishima was taking a shift that day, because if Bakugou had to deal with her - in all context of the word - he might end up jumping out the fucking window.

The swapping shift happened throughout the day, alternating between Bakugou, Uraraka, and Kirishima more than any other officer. Shitty hair had no open cases, and Kaminari was too shit scared of Bakugou to even step foot in another stakeout situation with him. Bakugou was happy for the relief.

They had an arrangement of screens with different views surrounding the building. With cameras all aimed at the rusting old roller door, the alley under heavy surveillance, it would be a miracle if these idiots didn’t get caught - every entrance and exit covered, even the manholes were being looked at for any shady dealings. They weren’t losing this lead, not for the world.

Uraraka stepped out, saying she needed to leave the motel room for a few hours to pick up more clothes - as the short supply of clothes she had was not sufficient enough. Bakugou would agree on that, as she was stretching her clothes thin with the smell. She wasn’t exactly reeking of body odor, but they wouldn’t hold up the entire fucking time, especially if this stupid stakeout dragged the fuck on anymore.

In the meantime, Bakugou took the opportunity to exercise. Although he couldn’t leave the motel room, he could use it to push his body in any sort of limit and constraints. Using the doorframe to do pull ups, and watching as Kirishima skimmed through the selection of videos - rewinding and fast forwarding to make sure the night crew didn’t miss anything.

Shifting from doing that, Bakugou went down to the ground, propping his body up onto his hands and his legs into the air. He held his core tight and began to push his body up and down. The room was small, and facing anything than Kirishima was hard as fuck. So, all he had to watch was shitty hair scroll endlessly, trying to be discreet on his phone in front of Bakugou. He was failing, like the idiot he was.

Kirishima was supposed to be looking through the screens when his phone started to buzz. Bakugou rolled his eyes as he let his legs fall down on the ground. He took a breath before moving towards Kirishima and smacking him over the back of the head, bringing the shitty haired detective back to reality.

“Are you talking to that alien girl again?” Bakugou snapped.

“Mina?” he asked back. Bakugou rolled his eyes as he folded his arms over his chest.

“I don’t fucking know. Why the hell are you talking to her when we’re on a fucking stakeout?”

“Cause there’s nothing to do, man! Nothings happened so far, I can respond to a text,” Kirishima chuckled to himself as he hid his phone from sight. In a split second, he watched shitty hair’s face drop and his entire being turn the shade of his hair, “maybe I can’t,” he said under his breath, sliding his phone quickly back into his pocket.

“If you are getting nudes sent to you right now, leave the fucking room,” Bakugou scowled, watching as Kirishima try to adjust himself in the chair. If this fucking asshole had a boner...

“Just because you have a case of blue balls doesn’t mean I have to suffer,” Kirishima smirked, standing up and fixing up his shirt, patting at Bakugou’s shoulder, “and since you let me go...I have to reply,” he said with the cock of his eyebrow. Bakugou’s stomach turned.

“I don’t need to fucking know that.” He heard Kirishima laughing down the hall. God, he wished he had better friends. If he could even consider that spikey haired idiot that - especially after…

Fuck that bastard.

Bakugou wanted to blast a hole in the wall to let out his frustration, but he couldn’t. There were very little things that made Bakugou as angry as that night did, but embarrassment fucking does that and Bakugou couldn’t live it down. He hated this entire thing. And stuck with the two people that know and want to know was going to kill him. He might as well sabotage the fucking mission just to die and get away from those morons.

The rest of the day consisted of their normal routine - watching, waiting, and trying to entertain themselves. Well, moreso Uraraka trying to entertain herself and making Bakugou join her. He was focused...but he wouldn’t admit that she sure did make the hours pass by far quicker when she was being stupid and wanting to annoy him. Kirishima came and went, taking Uraraka’s mind from the task at hand, which left Bakugou sitting slumped at the screen and trying to go through footage the group could have missed. All in all...nothing was happening.

Night finally dragged itself in, and the long ass wait made sure boredom set in, stifling all higher thought and reasoning. Kirishima had left, managing to refill the coffee machine in the next room, and made sure to bring up those spicy buns that Bakugou had been craving. At least the guy was good for something after all. Left to themselves, the partners stayed in silence.

No. that was a lie. Bakugou stayed silent. Uraraka filled the silence with chatter - the silence that he enjoyed, she despised - especially around Bakugou it seemed. She was rattling on about her dad, then how her first kiss was a disaster, and that she hated clothing companies - but in the midst of it, Bakugou felt his headache increasing, slowly...and surely, turning into a fucking tumour.

“Why won’t you at least pay attention to me? I’m trying to entertain myself here. We’re on a mission that lasts way too lo-”

“Shut up, round face, I’m not talking about your shitty life anymore.”

She sighed again, finally sitting her ass down into the chair beside him, the little puff of air making his empty protein bar wrapper shuffle down the desk. His hand smacked down on it instinctively, and he snorted as she jumped.

“Someone’s wound up tight huh?” he said, leaning back in his chair and glancing briefly in her direction. Uraraka’s face was pinched - the way it always was when he was right - and she glared up at him from her slump deep into the seat.

“You act as though you haven’t spent the last ten minutes counting the bricks on the wall across the street. Again.”

It had been the cracks this time, but she didn’t need to know that.

“You got a better idea dipshit? Not like we can slack off now. Aizawa would slit our throats if we lost this one.” Uraraka nodded, agreeing with him on that. The pair had been successful in many other cases, but this one had been dragged out too long - if they lost it, Aizawa would probably fire them both. And Bakugou was making sure that shitty scenario was not coming true.

Uraraka thought for a moment before she pouted and tilted her head to the side. “I spy with my little eye -”

“No. I’m not guessing fucking ‘door’ again.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose as Uraraka kicked her legs, her toes scraping across the old carpet, contemplating her next torturous game. She tilted her head back and forth, stretching back in her swivel chair, then she twirled around, speaking as she started to spin.

“Fine. Truth or dare?”

“Fuck no.”

Uraraka stopped, kicking at the wheel of his chair. She crossed her arms over her chest as she slumped back down into her chair, watching the night bring in the indistinguishable surroundings. “You’re no fun.”

“Jump out the window.”

She huffed, and once again they returned to their silent vigil. Then, as though all the silence was suffocating to be in, she crashed through it with a question that nearly knocked Bakugou out of his fucking chair.

“So what did you do to her anyway?” Uraraka said, and Bakugou didn’t dare to turn. He knew exactly what she was on about, and this was not the time or place for this shit to be unpacked. Especially with Uraraka.

Like hell he was talking about this. He was bored, but he wasn’t that bored. “None of your business.”

Uraraka urged herself forward, pulling herself right beside Bakugou - the distance was less than an inch. God, she was being really fucking nosy about all this. “So you’ll talk to Deku about it, but not me?”

“I didn’t talk to Deku about it. Just needed the nerd to pick me up,” he replied in a snap, knowing his temper was getting the best of him. He really hated the fact that Deku was brought into all of this. Actually, he fucking despised the fact that Deku was brought up at all.

“And handle the public disturbance report,” she reminded.

“Tch, it wasn’t even that bad,” he replied, arms folded over his chest. Uraraka laughed, smacking him in the shoulder. Bakugou turned to her, eyes narrowed and angry.

“But it was bad. I mean, the wine stains could’ve told me that.”

“Why are you even asking? So it was a bad date - not like you haven’t had any of those. I don’t ask you for the details.” He scoffed as he turned back to the screens, hands bound into biceps as he held himself back. He wanted to explode the entire room, watch it go up in smoke just so this fucking conversation ended like two minutes ago. But that didn’t happen, and Uraraka kept pushing.

“You never date! It’s the most exciting thing you’ve done since you bought that new TV.” He doesn’t date…but he gets his needs met.

“So? At least I don’t go around with every single fucking guy in the department.” He noted them a few times over the years. It just never occurred to him how much that fact irritated him.

“I so haven’t!” Uraraka laughed. Bakugou scowled.

“You so have.”

“I spy with my little eye a jealous guy,” she laughed, poking her tongue out and acting all cutesy. It was weird, her chin resting in her palm as she edged herself even closer to him than before. Bakugou rolled his eyes.

“Jealous? Of fucking who? Not like I wanna date the American from accounting.”

Uraraka seemed to pause, her face searching for something written in his own. Bakugou furrowed his brow as she kept staring. Then, she scoffed, pushing her hair out of her face. “You’re hopeless. I’m getting coffee,” she sighed and stood up, moving out of the room quickly.

“No sugar this time, you fucking pussy. And make sure they make it extra hot,” Bakugou shouted back to her, but for all he knew, she’d already up and fucked off to do god knows what. She flipped him off as she left, turning to give him a bright smile as she backed out the door.

Uraraka returned to the room, two coffees in hand and handing one to Bakugou, exactly how he liked. No sugar. Just plain old black coffee just the way it should be. Plus, it kept him alert for these long nights with no company. Not as though he cared much for company, but staying alert was all he craved during those times.

As midnight came and went, Uraraka wound up in bed, ungraceful and kept to herself as her sleep crept in. He didn’t notice it at all at first until she became the obnoxiously loud partner he was used to. Loud snores caught in his ears, the room dark except for the bright light of the computer screens in front of him. Even in sleep, she had to make sure she gave him a fucking headache. At least she was consistent. Bakugou’s eyes had started itching about five seconds after the snores had started. Fucking figures. He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes again as he did a quick survey of the room, unused to feeling so strangely exposed in such a tiny motel room.

Uraraka was cuddled in the bed, curling herself in the sheets as though to cacoon herself in the heavy blankets. If she didn’t snore, it would almost look cute. Bakugou knew from experience though that any and all cuteness would disappear when she woke up, like a troll emerging from under it’s bridge. She snorted in her sleep, rolling over in a sprawl that made his spine ache in jealousy. He wanted to fucking move, to do something other than sit on his ass and watch the grass grow - or at least get some god damn shut eye. Instead, he slapped awareness into his face and stared at the screen again, clicking through the various feeds to make sure everything was in order.

And of course it was - because within the three - or was it four now? - days they had spent in that shitty motel room, not a single fucking thing had happened. If it wasn’t for Bakugou’s absolute faith in his partner’s ability to scare the truth out of people, he’d be concerned they’d pulled a fast one on them. It had been so quiet, of all the things Bakugou missed, he found himself missing the games the Uraraka had pushed him to play.

Under the circumstances, however, Bakugou wanted to go over everything. He had studied the alley so thoroughly that by the third day he’d figured out most of the locals routines, just in case something came up. It hadn’t.

In fact, the most exciting moment they’d had was some extra hanging around the back of the building, looking all shifty. Turns out the guy was just looking for a place to piss. And then...shit. Gross and illegal for sure, but not anything actually related to their drug bust. If it hadn’t risked their position, Bakugou would have blasted the fucker to kingdom come for the sheer pleasure of it.

Other than that, they’d had a solid nothing since they’d arrived, and if something didn’t happen soon, he might just end up killing his partner for something to do.

“Wound up tight huh?”

Maybe she wasn’t the only one. He knew himself better than that.

He knew he wasn’t only talking to her.

As the night wore on, Bakugou kept a long watch, desperately waiting for when Kirishima would come to relieve him of his shift, but refusing to let it show. There was no one there to see it, but the idea of having it be so clear how obviously exhausted he’d become was unacceptable. To pass the time, he’d taken to sneaking glances at his partner - the way she’d contort herself around the blankets, or how she’d begun drooling around hour four. When that became boring, he’d started a small game of how many bits of stationary he could throw at her without her stirring.

His current record was seven paper balls, two pens and a useless eraser. He’d scoured all the desk drawers, and the most exciting thing he’d found was a box of paper clips. Hour six had been dedicated to his new found hobby of paper clip ornaments. And paperclip jewelry. And paperclip throwing.

His new record by hour seven was ten paper balls, two pens, an eraser, and five paper clips.

Bakugou was in for the final swing, paperclip in motion when Kirishima opened the door, a box of energy drinks tucked under his arm and a coffee cup in his hand. His eyes widened as he took in the scene, and Bakugou fought the urge to curl protectively over his hoard of stationary. Instead, he leant back as casually as he could, giving a quick survey of the screens, the room, the bed, before finally bringing his eyes up to meet his friend’s.

“Long night buddy?” Kirishima said, and moved around the desk, “wound up tight, huh?” God, why did he have to go and say that? No. He wasn’t. Even if he - No! Bakugou wasn’t wound up tight. Personality...maybe, but whatever Kirishima was insinuating - no. Bakugou wasn’t wound up tight.

“Tch, as if,” he scoffed, pushing away from the desk and standing up. He tried to hide his grimace as his entire spine cracked.

“Right. Well, I got you covered now. Take a nap dude,” he said and Bakugou pushed past him, seeing the space on the bed that looked so fucking welcoming, it may be the only thing that Bakugou would ever consider marrying.

Oh thank god was the last thing Bakugou remembered before he pushed his partner aside and collapsed onto the bed, paperclips digging into his skin as he passed out. But in the midst of the discomfort, he didn’t care. That bed, with it’s weird hard spots and lumps, was the most comfortable thing in existence.

It was hours later that he woke. He had the strangest feeling, as though he was being watched. Stalked. Something just didn’t feel right. He didn’t want his eyes to open. He didn’t even want to move, but there was an unmistakable presence at his chest. In his arms, he felt the soft press of a body against his own. Bakugou had worked out different types of warmth, his body needed to recognise every type in order to understand his quirk better. He knew what human warmth felt like. And that was definitely it.

He peeked his eye open, still exhausted and unwilling to cooperate with him, but the sight he found was one he expected. Uraraka was fast asleep at his chest, giving out small puffs of air as she slept silently in his arms. In the midst of his realisation of what was happening, it became even more apparent, that Uraraka was not the one that had found herself there...Bakugou was the one keeping her in place. His grip on her was solid and tight.

And she was comfortable, head cradled perfectly into his chest, and to his surprise, she wasn’t floating away. He knew she had ways of falling asleep that prevented her from using her quirk in her sleep - like she used to do - but he didn’t realise she did this. Her left hand was bound to the bottom of her shirt, scrunched in tight, and the other was tightly gripped into Bakugou’s shirt, as though she didn’t want him to move.

But he had to.

He had to get the fuck out of this situation.

Feeling frustrated that his ears were scorching hot, he lifted his hands from her body, slipping out from underneath her and let her fall into the sheets. He thought maybe he needed to get her to loosen her grip on him, but her hand fell away and she curled up on the other side of the bed, in her own dreams once more. Bakugou managed to take himself from the bed without waking her and he sighed in relief, turning to go to the bathroom to shower.

And the feeling of being watched was fucking accurate as he caught the shit eating grin on Kirishima’s face, feet resting on the top of the desk and cup of coffee in his hands. He was enjoying this far too much. It made Bakugou want to fire off a blast at the hardened idiot.

“So -” he started, bringing the coffee to his lips. Bakugou started towards the bathroom, grabbing his towel on the way.

“Not a fucking word,” Bakugou snapped, voice hushed to keep Uraraka from waking.

It wasn’t until Bakugou was in the bathroom did he realise he had done that, all for her benefit. He didn’t kick her out of the bed - which he should have done. He didn’t yell at her for not being awake, he instead kept her asleep. What was wrong with him? He’d done it before - let her sleep, rest in his arms as sleep guided them both into comfort. Even…

He couldn’t think about that night again. He said he wouldn’t. But why the fuck was her face the same as it had been that night? Why was that image stuck in Bakugou’s mind of the soft round face giving out light puffs of air as she breathed. In the shower, he let the heat wash over him, wanting the image to fade. It didn’t. So...he counted the tiles on the wall, angrily muttering to himself as he pushed the thoughts aside.

Counting seemed like something that helped. Dressing when he was still wet helped as well, because everything was gross and figuring out how the fuck to put clothes on a damp body was a challenge in itself. Fixing up the bottom of his shirt, he opened the door to be met with a feral looking Uraraka. Her hair stuck out at all angles and the bags under her eyes were deep. She looked like shit - she got like twelve hours, and if Bakugou didn’t know any better he’d say she’d been in a fucking fight.

“Finally!” she called out and Bakugou grimaced at her.

“Not my fault you slept in, round face,” he said, finger nudging at the centre of her head. She swatted it away, anger building in her eyes.

“Ha-ha, very funny, stop getting in my way,” she said, trying to edge her away around him, but Bakugou stepped a foot in her way. It made him smile to himself. “I will float you,” she warned as her eyes narrowed in on him.

“Like to see you try,” he said with a smirk, hand crackling at his side as a challenge.

“Bakugou, can you see if this person is suspicious or not,” Kirishima called weakly and Bakugou rolled his eyes, stepping aside for her.

“Lucky you, duty fucking calls,” he said, already being pushed out of the way and the door was slammed behind her. Bakugou slowly walked to Kirishima and sat in the chair opposite him. “What’s up?”

“I wanted the flirting to stop,” Kirishima said, reclining back into the chair.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dude, c’mon,” Kirishima looked at Bakugou as though he were lying - a defiant look of seriously written into his tough features. “There was a moment. Especially with the whole -”

“Don’t say it,” Bakugou warned.

“-cuddling thing. You have to admit you’re not as ‘lone-wolf’ as you appear.”

Bakugou sighed, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes. “It wasn’t a moment shitty hair - you need to stop reading those trashy magazines.”

“Ah but the trashy magazines are usually right. You telling me you don’t see the signals you two are putting out?” Kirishima asked, the frustration leaking through his normally sunny disposition.

“We aren’t like that, and I don’t care what you have to say about it. It’s fucking round face. Now shut up and don’t talk until you start to make sense.”

Kirishima groaned, taking a moment to rub his eyes before he pushed away from the desk. “I’m getting coffee.” His hands were raised as he left the desk, as though he were defeated by the conversation. Or had enough of it. Bakugou could agree with him there. Bakugou didn’t even try to protest his excus-

Wait...didn’t the fucker have a coffee not fifteen minute before hand?

The door swung closed behind Kirishima, and Bakugou was left staring blankly at the camera feed. He didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about; if Round Face was really into him, and if by some fucking weird mistake he was into her, than wouldn’t it have happened already? They’d been partners for years now, and he’d never even really thought about it as an option. She was his partner, and that was that.

Even if she was, he supposed, not as shitty as the rest of them.

He didn’t know how long he stayed like that, slumped into the chair and thoughts racing a million miles an hour. It was only broken when Uraraka returned, towel scrubbing at her wet hair.

“Where’d Kirishima go?” she asked, and it made Bakugou jump. He ignored the grin on her face when she noticed.

“He left to get coffee and do fuck knows what else. I don’t know when he’s gonna be back.” He answered.

“Oh okay.”

She sat down next to him, the smell of the shitty shampoo they’d brought lingering past him. It wasn’t as though he cared, but it felt weird to smell it on her this time around. She smelled like him, and he like her - constantly in orbit of each other, never able to separate from each other’s gravity.

He looked over at her, sneaking a glance as she tied her wet hair back. She wasn’t… unattractive, really. But he’d never really thought to notice her looks before, beyond the initial “who the fuck is this” that had occured when they’d met. He’d even heard some of the guys talk about her before, not that he cared to listen, and he could kind of see why.

It bothered him, that this was suddenly brought to his attention, and he spent the rest of his shift pissed and distracted. Signals? What fucking signals?

It was nothing. Kirishima could say what he wanted, it didn’t mean that he knew anything about what Bakugou might’ve been feeling.

What did shitty hair know anyway?

The day dragged on, as many had before, and Uraraka seemingly more alert than ever - like a rabbit unable to stay still in its cage, constantly rattling around and bouncing off the walls. In this case, it was kind of true, because whenever Uraraka would float, she’d use the walls and ceiling as her own personal springboards. It was funny the first few times, now it was just like watching a crazy woman hang around his room. He wasn’t much better, setting off small explosions on his fingertips to see if he could beat his record of how quickly he could burn paper.

It was cut down to three seconds from when he was a teenager. Back then, he had less control. Now he was trained, more skilled, more precise. He was a master of his own craft. When it came time for the night, it was Bakugou’s turn to crash. Admittedly, even though his sleep earlier in the day was well and good, he craved sleeping alone, to forget the press on his body. Uraraka gave a reassuring grin to set him on his way, but that smile was meant for anyone other than him - he never felt like everything was going to go smoothly. So, he waited, rest far away from him.

Bakugou crawled into bed, curling the heavy duvet over him and just peeking his head out to allow himself fresh air.

He watched her for some time, sleep so far away, he didn’t think it’d ever fucking come. But in the midst of it all, he watched her fumble and fiddle with whatever was on the desk. He found her utterly distracting, a complete waste of agency time. Yet, he found the moments where she focused, sifting through footage as they all did, and practicing small defensive actions that she knew needed work.

And so did Bakugou.

As she continued, making small notes they needed for reports, he watched as Uraraka let her lip catch in between her teeth, finger playing with the long strands of hair. It twirled around her finger in spirals, flicking as the strands ended, and continued on. When she was lost in thought, there was something strangely delicate about her. She was by no means fragile or on the verge of shattering sort of delicate - but the kind that needed to be tended to, like a flower. And it made him furious. That wasn’t who she was - she wasn’t delicate or fragile.

But for a moment, a single moment, when the moon was just right or something, she was...angelic.

It wasn’t much longer that Uraraka went about fixing up her earpiece, and sleep took Bakugou calmly.

Sleep was sound until the hum of an alarm started to vibrate against the bed, waking him up quickly. Bakugou wasn’t one to burst from his bed, so when he heard the consistent soft thuds echoing around the room, he sprung up from his bed. He had a fear - an odd fear to say the least - that he had slept through a fucking fight and the detectives watching over everything dangling from the ceiling fans, hitting the wall as the wind blew by.

Instead, when Bakugou jolted up, he found Uraraka’s head hitting against the desk, groaning to herself. “What the fuck are you doing?” Bakugou asked, voice hoarse from sleep. He tore the blankets from his torso as Uraraka shot up from the desk and cleared her throat.

“Nothing. I wasn’t contemplating how I would hypothetically kill someone,” she sighed,

“If it’s Kugizaki, factor me into your plan,” Bakugou smirked and Uraraka giggled, covering her mouth as she yawned.

“As if you wouldn’t be,” she said in between the sighs, eager for sleep in every breath. Bakugou felt himself yawn in response to her. She laughed a little before gesturing towards the bathroom. “Can I -”

“Sure. You stink anyway,” he said and Uraraka punched as his shoulder.

“Thanks,” she rolled her eyes, pushing past him. Bakugou shook his head and moved to the screens, filtering through the random people that scattered about, any clues that they may have missed - like people repeatedly showing up in the alley. There had only been a few and they worked in the area so they didn’t really give a shit about those particular people. And yet, after five fucking days, there was still nothing. He didn’t know how people stayed on stakeouts for months at a time when this bullshit was exhausting already.

As Uraraka was in the shower, Bakugou had time to work out, build up a sweat and go take a shower that would benefit his overheated body. He felt the need to earn his shower that day. It was the little things when death was the only other escape from the endless torture of a brick wall on all sides. On the doorframe that could have been bowed from his constant workouts, he started to do pull ups, focusing on his arm strength, how it felt to hold the weight. He managed to turn the screens to him, watching the live feed as he worked out was better than just sitting on his ass.

When sweat pooled on his body, he needed a second to relax. Getting back down onto solid ground, he took off his shirt, rubbing it over his face and chest. He was about to jump back up when Uraraka came out from the bathroom, towel around her shoulders. She had suddenly stopped, watching what he was doing.

“So...what the hell is happening right now?” she asked after a moment’s silence between them.

“Work out, idiot. Isn’t that obvious?” he snarled. She nodded, moving to the desk and getting on with her work. She tilted the screens back to her as to get back into the investigation. Bakugou jumped up again finding the balance he had before on the small space and crossed his ankles to provide himself with a better lift.

When he found the right grip, he pulled himself up as far as he could, face almost to the ceiling before he stayed there for a few seconds, ten at the most for his first before releasing and resting back to stretch out. After a few of these reps, he felt himself being watched - like Kirishima had been doing, but far less tactful. He glanced to the screens to see Uraraka staring at him, watching as he continued to work.

“Oi, round face, what’s with the look?” he grunted, resting back down to see her clearly. She cleared her throat, going back to hiding behind the screens.

“Nothing.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes before getting back to it, adjusting him on the frame and finding his pace again. It wasn’t long before the stares began, her eyes peering up from the screen as she inspected him like a fucking lab rat. Bakugou hated it.

“Oh? Cause it looks like someone took a shit on your dog,” he snarled before dropping down to the floor.

“My what- I’m not even answering that,” she groaned, sitting back in her chair.

“Seriously though, what the fuck is up with you?” he asked, wiping his face down with his hand.

“I’m just. Restless. You aren’t helping.” She avoided his eye and he scowled.

“Why didn’t you say so round face. We could spar,” he said, gesturing for her to get up. She suddenly looked up at him, a flush of red racing over her face that he’d rarely seen before.

“No.”

“Bet I could bench press ya,” he smirked and Uraraka sank in her chair, keeping herself grounded.

“No!” she snapped.

“Geez, the fuck is your problem?” he asked, getting

“I’m getting coffee, take over -” she said, already getting up and out of the room, the door to the hallway swung open as she went off.

“Fuckin - Round face! Come on!” he called, but she was too far gone to get back without blowing up the building with his shouts. “Fuck this,” Bakugou muttered to himself. From the edge of the hall, Kirishima came into view, looking over his shoulder as though he had seen Uraraka leave. The shitty bastard had his face stuffed with junk from vending machines, indulging in his time spent in hiding, it seemed. “Kirishima! Take over,” Bakugou said, gesturing to the computer. Kirishima’s brow furrowed as he came into the room and dumped the junk on the desk.

“What? Why?” he muttered, mouth full with food. Bakugou grimaced.

“I need to shower and Uraraka fucking went AWOL,” he said, grabbing at his things. He growled as he looked back to the empty hallway. “Why does everyone in this fucking room always need coffee!” he snapped, getting to the bathroom and slamming the door behind himself.

By the time Bakugou’s shower was finished, he found Uraraka and Kirishima back to their spot behind the computer. Uraraka was paying less attention than Kirishima, her mind focusing on making a long chain link of paperclips, the building bundle on the floor around her. Bakugou pulled himself together, settling into the bed as he put on his boots. He didn’t know what his day had in store, but he had a feeling something big was going to go down.

The night of an uneventful day drew in, Kirishima heading down for some dinner, it was only Bakugou and Uraraka. Bakugou was scooting his chair around the room, trying his hardest not to blast himself from corner to corner to see if he could set a record. Uraraka rested her cheek on the desk, puffing it up as she waded through endless footage. When Bakugou was on the edge of propelling himself out the window, Uraraka lurched up from her spot and stopped Bakugou in his tracks.

“Hey, come here,” she urged, and he followed, moving around to her side, “one of the cameras is out,” Uraraka commented, pointing to the broken feed that showed nothing but a black screen. Bakugou shrugged, moving away.

“We’ve got the rest of the alley covered, don’t worry about it.”

Uraraka bit her lip, looking back at him. “Are you sure? We could lose something. What if they take another entrance?”

“Then one of the other cameras will catch it. If we’re seen down there, we could spook someone off, just leave it,” he grunted, getting up and arching his aching back. “I have to piss, can you guys make sure we’re covered?” he ordered more than asked.

“Sure,” she said, glancing out the window once more before turning back to the screens.

He felt like he didn’t take much time at all, but when he came out, the whole room felt changed. It was empty, chairs pushed aside and there was something very much off about the whole scene. Something in Bakugou’s gut told him that this wasn’t going to be good. He was already getting ready to call for backup when Kirishima came into the room, a slight yawn as he entered.

“Where’s round face?” Bakugou asked quickly. Kirishima was surprised by the sudden question and gestured over his shoulder.

“She said she was getting coffee,” Kirishima gestured over his shoulder. Bakugou raced to the desk, roaming through the live feeds and cursing.

“That fucking bitch,” Bakugou muttered to himself as he pulled on his bomber jacket.

“What?” Kirishima asked.

“She’s fixing the camera,” Bakugou spat, pointing to the feed that showed Uraraka sneaking into the alley to find the camera. That idiot. That fucking idiot.

Bakugou stormed out of the room, racing down to the alley as fast as he could. The stairs prevented him from flying all the way down without delay. Instead, he skipped as many stairs as he could before he made his way out of the motel. He rounded the corner from the main street, finding the alley dark and uninviting to the average idiot, but Bakugou was pissed.

Storming the alley, he searched for Uraraka - why did that idiot think she could get the camera to work without being seen. She put the damn thing up there with her -

No.

Fuck no.

If she was -

She was.

Bakugou looked up to where the camera was positioned and found Uraraka at least ten feet off the ground - or something to that effect. She was fiddling with the thing, positioned just right, against the brickwork to help her have some control over the entire thing. If this wasn’t so fucking stupid, Bakugou would have commended her for thinking on her feet. Instead, he jumped up and grabbed her ankle. Uraraka yelped, putting the camera back into position quickly.

“The hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, yanking her down. Uraraka deactivated her quirk, falling into Bakugou and trying to stand her ground. He didn’t realise how small she was compared to him - the difference making him how aware how imposing she had to be in order for her to break people.

“I’m fixing the camera,” she snapped, raising her chin. “Which I did, if you cared.” Something felt off about the alley - that there was heat in the air that he couldn’t pinpoint.

“We are not fucking up this mission cause you’re bored,” he snapped at her. The feeling was rising, like the slow crawl of sweat down his spine.

“I’m not -”

“Shut up.”

Bakugou turned, glancing down the alley. He could have sworn...

Looking the opposite direction, it was clearer now. He heard the shuffle, the unmistakable sound of voices, and their destination at the start of the alleyway. Instinct was all he had. Shoving Uraraka back, he didn’t give her much time to think, as he pressed his hand into her waist and the other tried to steady against the metal garage door. He lowered his head to hers, disguising their intention as nothing but a couple finding a dark spot to steal away together. When he turned briefly, the people at the brink of the alley were gone, and they were in the clear.

What Bakugou hadn’t anticipated was the sweat that slicked over his hand, as to when he turned to Uraraka to spit words of anger and frustration, he slipped. When he had turned back, hand unstable and making him lower than he was before, his lips met her cheek and the pair froze. It was unexpected, and definitely not fucking welcome. It took them both a minute to recover, but Uraraka’s face was way more fucking pink than it had been just a few moments before.

Her breath was so warm against his cheek, he thought of when it last touched him - the closeness of a night filled with alcohol and lost memories for her. He remembered it clearly. Still, she had a way of shaking him down, mesmerizing him with the simplest action, and she barely managed to do anything.

Clearing her throat, Uraraka snuck out from his hold and tucked one of her long strands before her ear. “Nice...save…” she said clearing her throat again, and went back to the motel. Bakugou wasn’t sure what to do. Why were his hands way more sweaty than they had been before? And why didn’t he know what do with them, as they moved from his pockets to the back of his neck and he was unable to stop clenching them together.

What the fuck just happened?

Bakugou felt like he was missing something - that there was a reason he was feeling so….fucking flustered. He never got flustered. He had never even used the fucking word but now he was feeling it! He felt weird and unable to figure out what the fuck was going on. When he got back to the motel, Bakugou found the one person he never wanted to interact with after these stupid moments. Shitty….fucking…..hair.

“So….you gonna tell me what happened down there?” he said, a small shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Bakugou’s hands started to steam as he clenched them tighter.

“Don’t fucking talk about i-”

“No, seriously dude, what happened? Did you finally make a move?”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” Kirishima buckled for a moment, the shock of the question catching him off guard. Bakugou felt his eyes narrow, questioning his so called friend.

“I thought you -” he stammered.

“We’re not talking about it. Drop the subject, idiot,” Bakugou snarled, pushing past him to get to the room. When inside, Uraraka was under the sheets, body hidden from view and possibly from Bakugou. He didn’t blame her. He hid himself behind the computer screens, the thought of them catching sight of each other that night was a little more than he could take.

It wasn’t long before he heard the soft breaths of Uraraka asleep, quietly humming as she rested. Bakugou hadn’t dared to look her way for some time, but when an hour passed, no snoring and the absence of her restlessness, he became curious. Peering over the top.

Watching her now felt wrong - as though it was something he should be embarrassed about. Bakugou wasn’t embarrassed, but the way the small puff escaped her, a peaceful night sleep coming to her before her snores started, he felt captivated by her. She was something weird and mysterious to him, that he needed to keep an eye on her in order to watch all the mystical and wonderful things he could.

Uraraka was his partner above everything else. He didn’t see her as a family member, he didn’t see her in any other light. It was rare to even consider her a friend.

When Bakugou thought something big was going to happen that day….he didn’t think it would be this.

Kirishima arrived the next morning, silent compared to his usual self. It didn’t bother Bakugou, but he knew why the shitty haired detective was like that. Instead of stewing in the weird space Kirishima was making, Bakugou went out, going to grab breakfast for himself. He didn’t even bother trying to wake Uraraka up - there wasn’t a point this early. All he wanted to do was eat something, have a shower and get on with his day.

When he was on his way back, he started to snack on his food, eating most of it by the time he got back. When he was instead, the sheets to the bed were all thrown to one side, and the shower was running.

Really round face?

Kirishima stayed seated, barely flinching as Bakugou charged at the door, kicking at the base of it. Bakugou slammed his hand into the door, the heavy thuds making it shake in its frame. “Oi Round Face, hurry the fuck up in there! Some of us need to shower too you selfish bitch.”

The sound of the shower seemed to get louder - she must've turned the water up. Bakugou knew these shitty motel rooms and they always had terrible hot water supplies. No way was he letting her use it all - they’d both had a long night. “Hey! Don’t make me come in there! I’ll drag your ass out - this door won’t save you.”

“Fuck off!” It was drowned out by the shower, but it was unmistakable.

Right. Well. He’d had enough. He may have felt embarrassed the night before after that stupid slip up, but Bakugou was never one to let something like that hold him back for long. “You have three seconds to cover yourself or I’m getting a free show of your shitty body.”

He warned, mentally clocking the time. It ran for one second. It continued to run for two. It wouldn’t stop in three. Bakugou stood back from the door, centring himself before he lifted his foot and slammed it against the door, knocking the lock out of place and forcing the door open. Uraraka yelped, but she wasn’t budging from the shower. Bakugou tore the shower curtain aside and Uraraka shrieked.

“Get out!” she yelled, covering herself as much as she could, soap suds running over her figure.

“You first, asshole! I need a shower more than you!”

“You do, but I got here first,” she replied sharply.

“Fuck off, I’m having my shower!”

“I’ll float you to the fucking ceiling!” she swore as she turned away from Bakugou. He switched the shower off as she pointed to the bundle of clothes by the sink.

“I’m getting my shower, round face! Get out!” he said, throwing her clothes at her. He never really cared about nudity, but it felt wrong to keep looking at her as she dressed, even if she was wasting his fucking time. Instead, he glanced up at the ceiling, waiting for her to hurry the fuck up. When she had covered basically anything that resembled indecency, he finally looked at her again, noticing the way she still tried to hide herself.

“Hey!” she shouted, trying to put the rest of her bra on. Bakugou took her by the waist, shoving her aside to get the door closed. Even busted, he could jam it “Asshole!”

“Guys!” Kirishima said urgently. “Shit! Bakugou! I see movement,” Kirishima said and Bakugou urged the door open in one brutal motion. When he was out, he saw Uraraka trying to put her shirt on, trying to get her pants ready to pull on.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Hell yeah!” Kirishima turning the screen around showing the shady dealings. Uraraka groaned stepping into her pants, struggling to get them on over her soaking body.

“Move,” Bakugou said, collecting some of Uraraka’s things with him. Kirishima alerted the main office and they were already on their way. They ran down the stairs, Uraraka jumping down steps as she tried to push herself into her jeans.

By the time they made it outside, Uraraka had managed to get her thighs into her pants but was still fumbling to put on her boots that Bakugou - admittedly - threw at her as she continued down the street.

When they were in the alley, Uraraka started to fiddle with her jeans, urging them together at her waist but groaned as they refused to stay.

“Hurry up!” Bakugou spat, trying to tug her forward

“I would if I wasn’t soaking fucking wet,” Uraraka cursed at him.

“Whose fault is that?” he smirked, watching as Uraraka struggled to button up the top of her jeans. She punched his ribs as she passed him. He rubbed at the pain before they all started to set up for their raid.

They stayed either side of the entrance, waiting for more back up and possibly checking if this was fucking faulty info that the asshole Kugizaki gave them. Bakugou was leading, adjusting his wrist guards that he managed to put on in the mess that was Uraraka. Kirishima followed with Uraraka behind him, the two nodding to Bakugou to give them a sign if it was time to charge in. Listening close, he heard chattered.

“Trigger needs to be shipped out today. Where the hell have you guys been?” Bakugou raised his hand, waiting for a reply.

“We were looking for Kugizaki, but the bastard has gone off and done his thing again,” another grunted back, and Bakugou had the pair flank him, watching as the edge of the alleyway had police cars sealing of the exit points.

The three barrelled their way through the entrance, causing the men inside to freeze. Bakugou was already letting off the sparks in his hand, eager for a fight to start - he was definitely wound up.

“Eraser Agency! Freeze!” Kirishima shouted.

“We will use force, assholes!” Bakugou warned, but the group around started to disperse.

“Go,” Uraraka shouted. He didn’t need to be told twice.

Bakugou put his palms down to the floor, a blast coming from his hands as he flew into the air, and another blast had him propelled back to the ground, tackling down two guys. They fell hard on the ground, wind knocked from them and Bakugou was quick to restrain them. Kirishima was charging through, disarming and restraining as many as he could.

Uraraka surprised him, as she faced three men all on her own. Well - one man. His quirk must have been a multiplication quirk, three of himself all trying to surround her. He realised as he was cuffing the two that he had cuffs for Uraraka in his pockets that he didn’t hand over. Shit. Instead of her possibly panicking over being at a disadvantage, she moved quick, dashing towards one. He looked prepared to grapple with her until she activated her quirk, pulling herself into the air.

Dropping the quirk as quickly as she activated it, she was at his back, bracing for the impact on her knees. Finding the balance she needed in no time, she kicked him square in the back, forcing him to the floor.

With a hard enough knock, the guy’s body - supposed to be falling to the ground - fell apart into smoke. Uraraka smiled as she went for the next, the guy completely off guard as she came at him, then slipping down to the ground to knock him straight off his feet. When he too fell to dust, Uraraka wasted no time in turning on her heels. She grunted hard as she threw herself into running.

The guy, realising he couldn’t out maneuver her on his own already trying to get away, but Uraraka was quick this time. She was like an angry lioness - finding her prey and going for the kill, no matter what. When she was the right distance, she threw herself into him, getting him to the ground quickly and taking his arms behind his back.

Uraraka spat her wet hair from her face, flicking it over her shoulder as she restrained him, knee digging into the guy’s back as she kept him pinned. She looked up at Bakugou, eyes narrow and focused. She gestured to Bakugou, hand demanding him to give her something.

And for some reason, it took him way longer to get to the point. She pointed to the cuffs he had ready for her. Why the fuck wasn’t he giving them to her? Fuck. Dammit, right. He handed them over, the weight of them so much heavier compared to when he held them before he saw her.

“I’ve got this, ” She spoke quickly as she went back to her suspect.

Bakugou swallowed hard, nodding along as he guided his two men away.

But over all of it, Bakugou felt the heat rise in his face, the unmistakable way his ears were burning as he looked at Uraraka. Because he thought...she looked hot.

Yeah, she was hot when she was wet and naked and it threw him off but at least that made sense.

Naked?

Wet?

Soapy?

Of course that’s hot!

What shouldn’t be hot is her shirt sticking to her chest and back and under her arms from the combination of sweat and soapy water, as she slam tackled the suspect.

What shouldn’t be hot is the way she spat the wet hair out of her face when she looked up at him, demanding the cuffs that suddenly felt slack in his hands.

Almost like a punch to the gut, Bakugou had the startling moment of realisation that those things weren’t hot. He found them hot, because he actually, maybe - just maybe - might have been attracted to fucking round face.

Fuck.

#kacchako #kacchako fic #bakugou x uraraka #uraraka x bakugou #my fics #the stakeout

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