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bluekidchaos · 1 year

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Kinktober day 1 - Severus Snape

this was only supposed to be a drabble... oh well

Pairing: Severus Snape x fem!reader

Prompt: Hate sex

Warnings: 18+, Dark!fic, degradation, slapping, dub-con, threat of using the imperious curse, slight praise, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex

Words: 1.8k

Can also be read on AO3!

Kinktober masterlist. Regular masterlist.

You and Severus had been rivals since school, always competing to get the best grades and trying to outdo each other in different subjects. You really hated each other, spouting mean words across the hallway and trying to sabotage the other. So it's really no wonder that when you both start as teachers at Hogwarts this hatred continued. Snape was known for favoring his own house of Slytherin so you went a bit extra hard on them while giving the other houses some slack. He would make your students late for class if he had them before you and so it went. How you ended up in his bed one night getting fucked into the mattress by him was beyond you. You had walked down to his office to yell at him for once again keeping your students overtime and making them late for your class, you don't remember the details of what you were saying but all of a sudden he had you pressed up against his desk. Making out like hormonal teenagers, one of his hands was in your hair and the other was making its way under your skirt, pretty quickly finding its way to your embarrassingly wet panties. He broke away from your mouth to trail kisses down your neck, "Merlin, you are so wet. Is this all for me, hm?" You didn't wanna give him the satisfaction of answering but he took it as him being right and chuckled against your skin. "Of course it is, why else would you have come strutting down here in this impossibly short skirt if not because you wanted this."

You threw your head back as his mouth went lower down, kissing at the top of your breasts and sucking marks into the skin. He removed his hand from where it had been cupping your pussy and started working on unbuttoning your shirt, pulling it out of the skirt and off your shoulders. Severus groaned at the sight of you in your red lace bra. The cold temperature of the dungeon air made shivers go up and down your body and your nipples hardened. His mouth came down on your left nipple and started nibbling at it over the bra, making it wet with his saliva while he was groping your other boob with his hand. "You're such a slut, walking around the castle in this skimpy outfit with lingerie under, probably just hoping to get bent over and fucked rough." Your hand snaked its way into his hair and pulled it back harshly, making his head follow as he looked up at you with that stupid fucking smirk on his face. He could tell he was getting to you.

"Fuck you, Snape." You spat back at him and mentally scolded yourself for not coming up with a better retort, but with the way he had been working your breasts and groping you your mind was empty and you were unbelievably horny. The desk was hard and uncomfortable against your ass. He smiled up at you from his slightly crouched position before rising to his full length again making you lose your grip on his hair. "That's all you have to say for yourself?" Severus quirked his eyebrow at you and brought a hand to the back of your head. "Maybe we should put your mouth to better use then, make it do something it's actually good at." You didn't have time to get offended at his remark before he was guiding you down so you were on your knees in front of him. The humiliation of being in this position in front of Severus Snape of all people was making you wetter than you ever had been before. You hated yourself for getting turned on by this but you had to admit the idea of Snape hate fucking you was definitely something that had crossed your mind on some lonely nights before.

Severus was undoing his belt and pants as you sat looking at him, the view of you on your knees, in just a lace bra and skirt was making him harder by the second. He grabbed his dick in one hand, pumping it twice before grabbing your hair again and pulling you closer, "Come on now, open wide and be good for me." You decided you weren't gonna give it up easy, you might have wanted this but he didn't need to know that. You looked up at him with determination and he had the audacity to roll his eyes at you. "You've been such a good little whore this whole evening, don't start being a brat now." You shook your head and he sighed at you and before you had any time to react you felt a harsh sting against your cheek. He had slapped you! That bastard actually slapped you!

You opened your mouth to yell at him but he was faster and clearly had planned this because he shoved his cock into your mouth the second it opened. Making you gag on the unexpected intrusion. He stayed deep in your mouth for a second, making sure you wouldn't try and get rid of him. "Now, you can either suck my cock like a good girl and I'll reward you after, or I can use the imperious curse and just use you however I want. Your choice." Your eyes widened, he wouldn't actually do that would he? A very small part of you thought about his threat a bit too long and your pussy clenched at the thought of Severus using you like a fuck toy, simply there for him to empty his load into. You hated that part of yourself.

Your hands gripped his now exposed thighs, nails biting into his skin. You hoped it would draw blood. Your tongue started to massage his heavy cock, making your choice to just do this and maybe he would fuck you after. Severus' hand tightened in your hair and his head fell backwards. "Oh, fuck. Good girl, good choice." You had started bobbing your head now, pulling all the way out, circling his tip with your tongue, and then taking him back all the way into your throat. "Make it real good and I'll fuck you til you can't remember your own name." Oh, that you had to hold him to. You put all your effort into this blow-job, taking notice of what he seemed to be into. It appeared he was into the loud messy blow-job so you put on a show for him, moaning and drooling around his cock. Gagging every time his tip hit the back of your throat. You could feel his thighs tensing and his hips started stuttering in their movements. "Fuuck, swallow it, slut. Take what I give you." You took him down your throat two more times before he spilled inside your mouth.

Your knees ached and you knew they were gonna hurt for a week after this. Your upper body was cold from the air. Severus had pulled out and was leaning back against the desk, tucking himself back into his pants. His heavy breathing was the only sound in the room. You were still on the floor when you broke the silence. "So, are you gonna hold up your end too or are you too old to go more than one round?" You looked up at him teasingly and he grinned at you. Stretching out his hand to help you up, you grimaced as your aching legs stretched again. Maybe you were the one getting old. He pulled you to him and kissed you harshly, slapping your ass at the same time.

In a matter of minutes, you were face down on his bed, bra and panties gone but your skirt still on. Severus was behind you, rubbing his dick against your soaking folds. When or how he got hard again you had no idea but you sure weren't complaining when he entered you. He stretched you out better than any guy you had been with before. Making you moan against the pillows and grab the sheets, fucking yourself back into him. Merlin, maybe he was right, maybe you were a whore. You could care less right now however, you could be ashamed at a later date, right now all you wanted was to come on his cock.

He had bunched up your skirt and was using it as leverage to pull you back onto him, fucking into you with a brutal pace. His left hand had made its way to your front and was rubbing your swollen clit. Your mind was hazy with pleasure, his cock was rubbing against your walls and hitting your spot perfectly. "Aah, shit please, Severus," he bent over you, his body covering yours. "Please, Severus." He was mocking you and it only made you more turned on, your cunt clenched tighter around him and he laughed at your pathetic state. "Do you wanna come? Is that it? Want me to make you have the best orgasm of your sad, lonely, pathetic life?" He punctuated each word with a harsh thrust and a slap to your pussy. You were impossibly close to the edge but he had stopped touching your clit. "Please! Yes, make me come!" You didn't care that you were more or less screaming at him, all you cared about was finally finding that release that your body craved so badly.

"Tell me you're my slut, tell me I'm the best you've ever had." You could tell he was close again, his hips stuttering and the thrust becoming more wild. His voice was right by your ear and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath on your skin. You reached a hand back, trying to grab at anything and managing to find a hold on his back. Gripping him and dragging your nails over his sweat-covered back, you raised your head so it was level with him as you whispered. "I'm your slut, only yours. Your cock is the best I've ever had, please let me come!" You're whining in his ear and he moves his hand back to your clit, rubbing it just the way you needed and you feel your whole body tense before that euphoric feeling spreads all the way from your head to your toes. Drowning you in pleasure. You think you might be screaming but you can't hear yourself over the thrumming in your ears.

Your pussy starts to clench and spasm around Severus and he comes again with a loud grunt, he continues to lazily pump in and out of you for a while. Working through your orgasms until you stop tensing around him. He slips out of you and you feel his seed mixed with your juices trickle out of you and down your thighs as he settles next to you. Surprisingly enough he pulls you with him, making you lay on your side so that he's spooning you. He waves a hand over your bodies and the mess you both made is cleaned up and the covers are now enveloping you both. His arm is slung around your waist. "That was probably long overdue, don't you think?" You couldn't help but laugh at him as you both settled in for the night, knowing this wouldn't be the last time.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #severus snape #severus snape x reader #snape x reader #severus snape smut #professor snape

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omegapheromone · 6 months

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I was thinking about this post and the ensuing conversation about retail and customer service workers. In the notes there is a lot of talk about the more scent-oriented stuff, but in this post, I wanna talk about something else that occurred to me.

Karens/Kevins in Omegaverse.

I should immediately state that I'm not from the US, so my personal experiences with Karens may differ somewhat, and my overall understanding of the "trope" or "personality type" is based on both my own non-US experiences and personal anecdotes and stories/footage/other posts I've encountered online. To me it seems Karens are quite universal and have very similar traits regardless of where in the world you are (entitlement, selfishness, bigoted opinions, thinking themselves better than others and just the sheer audacity), but I figured I should state I'm not personally familiar with the US Karen specifically, only through online accounts of encounters.

Anyhow! In the post I linked above I talked about the concept of "alpha males" and "incels" except translated into actual omegaverse- but I don't think I've ever seen anyone talk about what KARENS (or just, shitty not-alpha-male or incel/niceguy/nicegirl types) would be like in Omegaverse. Here are some things I personally feel like would be very common to Karens and Kevins, and the different kinds of them one might encounter.

Types Of Karens in Omegaverse/A/B/O/+

(Or in other words, a look at different types of shitty people in general, using the term Karen/Kevin rather generously.)

*note: while I'm classifying the different types of Karens into omega/beta/alpha, it doesn't mean that all Karens of said type MUST be of the dynamic mentioned- any dynamic or subdynamic can express the behaviors of a specific Karen-type, it's just more common for certain dynamics to embody a specific stereotypical karen-ness.

Omega (Ω) Karen, type: "Bitter"/"Bitter&Entitled"

Often, when speaking about "Karens", this is the type that comes into mind first. Karens of this type are the most likely to be similar to the perfect stereotype of a soccer mom parent, who believes they're entitled to anything and everything simply because they exist. They will not hesitate to use their kids/pups as an excuse to demand special treatment, and are exactly the type to berate a teacher for their own brat misbehaving in class, because "my McKaylwynn could NEVER, she's an ANGEL!". Almost always, they are trying very hard to live through their own kids, and often show favouritism towards any alpha children they may have. These are the type who will wonder why their kids move out at 18 and almost never talk to them. These Karens almost always stay in unhappy marriages at any cost, as they believe their alpha is what gives them their status and worth to a large extent, and often factors such as religious views on divorce being bad or a belief of bonding being "for life" is a part of this. They can, and in many cases DO cheat on their partners, however (and the partner likely does the same anyway). Military wives (the stereotypical kind) are a subtype of this Karen.

Usually, on the inside, these Karens are bitter omegas who grew up in conservative enviroments and internalized the idea that their purpose is to have kids. Now that they've had those kids, they feel entitled to special treatment, because they've supposedly been a "model omega" and believe that they deserve to be praised. These Karens are the type to ask other (often young) omega family members invasive questions during family gatherings, and tell them "they'll get it when they have pups of their own!". These Karens also cannot fathom the idea that an omega may choose to remain child-free, and does not approve of any same-dynamic relationships, especially omega/omega ones, as they believe it's "just a phase" and "they just need to meet the right Alpha to change their minds".

Deep down, as I mentioned, these Karens are likely just extremely bitter individuals, who have convinced themselves their lives are "good" and that they are "happy" because it follows the conservative ideal for an omega's role. Almost certainly, these Karens actually had dreams and ambitions of their own that were squashed by the enviroment they grew up and lived in, so now they are hellbent on taking out that bitterness on anyone who dares to step outside the mold for the "ideal omega", even more so if those individuals are clearly happy doing what THEY want. Usually, these Karens aren't aware of any of this however, so introspection and therapy are rarely going to help as their protective barrier of entitlement and self-impotance is simply too strong at this point.

Common phrases of the Bitter & Entitled Karen:

"I want to talk to your manager!"

"The HOA rules clearly state that..."

"Don't you KNOW who my husband is????"

"You'll get it when you have children of your own."

"Excuse me, don't you see that my child wants to play with your (valuable personal item, i.e. phone). Give it to them NOW! They're a CHILD! They deserve it MORE!"

"What do you mean you don't sell organic, dairy-free, gluten-free, gmo-free butter here? I want to speak to the owner of this place."

"Speak (language), this is (country), or go back to where you came from!!!"

"My husband knows the mayor. I will have you fired for talking like that to my precious child! They are NOT a bully, they would NEVER do something like that!!! Are you saying I raised MY CHILD badly? Do you even have kids of your OWN?"

"I shouldn't have to WAIT for service, don't you see I have KIDS?"

"Those two alphas shouldn't be holding hands in public, it'll confuse my child"

"My child started saying they're 'transdynamic' or something, I don't accept that kind of stuff in my house so I sent them to a camp to set them right. It was that or moving out at 15."

"No, my husband is never home, he's a BUSY man!"

"I wonder why my children don't talk to me"

Bonus: (Excessive use of a public f*cebook profile where they share increasingly personal details and very misinformed articles and talk about how it's the fault of 5G/gay people/vaccines/etc that their kids refuse to call them on mother's day)

☆

Omega (Ω) Karen, type: "self-centered" (outdated term: "Narcissistic")

This is another type of omega-dynamic Karen, however, this type is less focused on their offspring and the entitlement they feel over being a "good omega wife/partner/husband". They're also less of a traditional Karen in the sense that they'll rarely cause public disturbances that inconvenience others, but they definitely aren't incapable of doing that.

The "self-centered" type (Omega) Karens are usually the children of wealthy, or at least upper middle-class families, but this is not mandatory as they can be found in any and every "class" of society. It's mostly about how they were raised in said families, than the financial background: either very spoiled, or not really paid much attention to and given no rules as a kid. These Karens also tend to be women, though exceptions exist- this is mostly because they've grown up believing themselves to be superior to especially Beta, but also Alpha females. Male omegas of this subtype exist as well, however their sense of superiority often comes from a deep sense of insecurity, and they've adopted the self-centered personality as a defense mechanism against said insecurity.

These Karens are demanding, self-centered, and have a sense of superiority over everyone except maybe people in high positions in society. Almost certainly, they were a "mean girl" or bully at some point in their life, and you can often find these types of Omega Karens going into nursing, child-care, and other traditionally "omega" professions: not because they enjoy it, but rather, because they enjoy the power they have on the people under their care. This is the main difference between this type of Karen and the previous type; These ones tend to use their status as an omega to their advantage, rather than their children/husbands/role as a "model omega wife"/etc like the Bitter one might.

Unlike the more conservatively-minded "Bitter Karen", these "self-centered" Karens are not afraid of break-ups or divorce, and often actually use it as a threat to manipulate their partners. These Karens are less likely to use the "don't you KNOW who my husband is?!?!" Sentence, but will do so if they happen to be dating someone even moderately important (which could mean anything from "the general manager at the local grocery store" to "talked to the mayor's secretary once" to someone ACTUALLY important, such as a CEO or the mayor, etc.) Often, if these Karens end up having children, it's to try to baby trap someone, whether it works or not. They usually don't actually care about their kids at all, but WILL use them as ammo/shield for any criticism the same way a bitter Karen might. These Karens are also more likely to date Betas, unlike the previous type who often believes that an omega should only date an Alpha. The self-centered type Karen often is a more manipulative type, where they'll use others to get their way, while the bitter type tends to demand things more directly. Their goals also tend to be more about themselves than their status or kids, i.e. they may buy themselves luxury items while ignoring their own children's needs.

This Karen is somewhat less likely to fall for Antivaxx/Conspiracy theory stuff than the "bitter" type (however, not immune), but the ones that do usually end up being the especially dangerous "crystal mom" types. These Karens, unlike the Bitter type, still retain their own interests and hobbies, though these hobbies and interests almost always are centered around whatever will increase their status and make them seem more desirable and good. Their sense of "perfection" does not come from being the "perfect omega" as in mother and wife, but rather, being as desirable as possible, usually to alphas, but honestly, even a sufficiently well-off Beta will do. While many Karens of this type could be called gold-diggers who are attempting to climb the ranks of society, this isn't necessarily the case: rather, it's the APPEARANCE of being "better than", that drives them, in whichever social circle they happen to be in. This could mean becoming a recruiter for a MLM scheme, becoming the "leader" of their local crystal mom group on f*cebook that everyone looks up to for advice, posting to social media about going on (fake) luxury trips and about spending (nonexistent) money to induce envy in family members and so on. Basically, these Karens seek power and acceptance/admiration, or at least, the appearance of it- whether that is in the form of wealth, knowledge, or by being the head nurse at the local old folks home. They crave being envied and admired more than they crave actual status, hence why they're prone to exaggerating on social media. Often, this chronic desire for power is a result of growing up as an Omega and feeling powerless because of their status and enviroment- only to eventually realize they can actually use it to gain power. This type of Karen loves to use their scent/pheromones excessively to affect others around them, and doesn't like to be told to control their pheromones. They will claim a disease or state that their pheromones are just naturally strong and act like the victim, if told to reel it in for the sake of others.

**Various people may refer to this type of Karen as "Narcissistic" or "Narcissist", however, having NPD is not a requirement to behave this way, nor does having NPD automatically make anyone behave this way- it's considered offensive to Cluster B Personality Disorder sufferers to refer to these Karens this way, which is why "self-centered" is the appropriate term to use.

Common phrases of the Self-Centered Karen:

"Are you saying I'm a bad person? I did my best! It's not my fault you feel that way!"

"I'm going to break up with you if you don't ...."

"Heyyy girl!! Long time no chat bestie!!! So, I have this business proposal I was wanting to tell you about, ..."

"Umm, what do you mean I need to wear a scent blocker patch here, I'm allergic to the adhesive!!!"

"It can't hurt that much, shut up already. I already gave you paracetamol, just wait for the X-rays, will you? It's probably not even broken, jeez..."

"Umm what do you MEAN my coffee isn't ready, I'm gonna be late for work!!! I'll report you to the branch manager if you don't hurry up!"

(Posts a picture of a [possibly counterfeit] Louis Vuitton/etc expensive brand bag on instagram and facebook with a caption such as "love treating myself a little♡" or "a little gift from my darling😍", clearly trying to one-up someone or cause envy in gheir social circle)

"My pheromones are naturally really strong sorry :'( I caaaaan't do anything about it!"

"You don't know what it's like to raise three kids alone! I'm basically a super-mom! Just ask my kids!" (Forces the Kids to say their mom is their role model)

(Aggressively flirts with any alpha/beta in a nicely pressed suit in the hopes of luring in a lawyer/CEO/rich man)

"SHUT up Jessie, don't you see mommy/daddy's busy talking on the phone to someone? Go to your room already!"

"My Ex was so abusive" (the Ex was actually the victim)

☆

Beta (Β) Karen/Kevin, type: "hateful bigot"

This type of "Karen" is more likely to be of any gender, rather than usually being a woman, hence why Karen/Kevin in the title.

These Karens/Kevins are practically always Betas, however their gender (male/female/other) can be anything. The reason they're called the "Hateful" type is because this type embodies the "Beta that absolutely hates all alphas and omegas" stereotype seen in some works of fiction. Interestingly, this type can be divided further into two subgroups based on their political views- the conservative types have likely grown up in families that have instilled the belief that alphas and omegas are bad for generations, and their ideology tends to be more "alphas in power are always bad and entitled and are only there to make betas suffer and don't deserve their positions" and "omegas are disgusting sex creatures meant for making babies". Meanwhile, the more liberal type tends to mask their hatred of alphas and omegas under the guise of advocating for "equality", while in reality they still share a very similar view- that Alphas should be treated as "lesser than" because their positions of power seem "undeserved" and "gained through nepotism" (regardless of the actual circumstances. They simply believe that Alphas should NEVER be in power, no matter what) to these people. The more liberal subgroup often has less to say about omegas, given they're already often at a social disadvantage, but will occasionally pretend to campaign for "omega rights" as an attempt to have sex with omegas by appearing supportive. (A real-world equivalent would be men that pretend to support feminism in order to try to make themselves seem more progressive and thus desirable for women, even though deep down they don't actually care about feminism at all.)

This type of Karen/Kevin-ness usually forms from a deep-rooted sense of insecurity and inferiority, a belief that as a Beta, they're seen as secondary or unimportant (which, in modern society, is very rarely the actual case), and thus they find themselves hating all Alphas for the power they perceive Alphas to possess, and being disgusted by omegas because of the perceived lecherousness and sexualized idea of the omegas they have. It should be emphasized that this is all born from their personal perception of the world, either through their upbringing or negative personal encounters and/or some unadressed insecurities, and not the actual reality. This type of Kevin/Karen isn't actually all that common, but they do exist.

This type of Karen/Kevin is the type to scoff at or be rude towards workers of Alpha/Omega dynamics, no matter what their position is. An Alpha cashier might get a nasty look and be told they "probably didn't even apply for the job, just got accepted because they're an Alpha" and an Omega construction worker might get a nasty look because "what is that omega doing working a manual labor job, shouldn't they just be at home carrying pups for some shitty alpha, what if they go into heat in the job, also they're probably weaker than any Beta coworker anyway..." -the discrimination can come in any form, and occasionally, these Karens/Kevins can actually end up causing public disturbances just because they happened to have a bad day and took it out on the nearest alpha or omega just trying to do their job or mind their business.

Common Phrases of the Hateful Karen/Kevin:

"Aren't you ashamed? You stink of filthy omega/alpha pheromones, that's disgusting."

"I'll bet that Alpha CEO is a nepo baby who got her position because daddy was another rich Alpha as well"

"That omega celebrity is disgusting, who talks about slick and heats on national tv. They should lose their career."

"I bet you don't even know how to do your job, you just make others do it for you since you're an alpha."

"Why are omegas even allowed to be high school teachers, don't blame anyone but yourself if some young alpha goes into rut and takes it out on you. Your fault for being there as an omega. The alphas are just as bad. Why don't they just separate schools by dynamic, they used to do that back in my day..."

"Of course I support omega rights! It's so awful how much discrimination you guys face, honestly, it makes me feel so sad. Oh, by the way, I really like your scent, do you wanna hang out some time ;)?"

"Jeez, you work retail and can't even do your job right? I always knew Alphas were useless, and still get so much favouritism. I don't care if its your first day, you should know how to (do a difficult job task) already"

"Honestly I think we should just send all Alphas and Omegas to live on some isolated islands together. The society would be so much better with only Betas around."

☆

Alpha (Α) Karen/Kevin, type: "superiority complex"

This (almost always Alpha) Karen/Kevin is, unfortunately, like fuel to the fire of the "hateful bigot" beta Karens/Kevins. They share some similarities to the "alpha alpha-males" mentioned in the post linked at the beginning of this one, however, they're not exactly the same.

These Karens/Kevins come in a variety of different flavours and convictions, in the sense that some of them are flat out alpha supremacists, while some of them simply have this internalized belief of superiority that they aren't necessarily aware of, resulting in micro-aggressions and shitty behavior, but not necessarily flat out discrimination towards the other dynamics. This type is common for some specific families, who have a belief that they should try to keep their "Alpha Blood" pure by only having children with other Alphas- in some cultures this is a remnant of historical social structures and often specifically something family elders believe in. In other cultures, it's more of an individual family belief, where at some point it has simply become a custom because Alpha children were seen as more desirable and valuable (be it for labour at farms, for more education possibilities, etc) and thus marriage between female and male alphas was the encouraged pairing. Any beta or omega offspring would often get treated unfairly in families like this, and often, especially the male alphas of the family, would almost always go into the same profession (for example, lawyer, law enforcement, doctor, business, etc).

On the more severe end of the superiority complex karen/kevin spectrum, there are Alphas who genuinely believe Omegas should not work at all and that Betas are below Alphas in terms of rank and thus should obey whatever the Alphas demand. On the less severe end of the same spectrum, there are Alphas who don't necessarily consciously discriminate, but will make insensitive jokes, behave inappropriately towards omegas in work enviroments believing that the Omegas must like it or expect it since they're working there, and not really understanding why anyone thinks its a problem if an Alpha CEO favours hiring alphas, especially their own family member alphas, as the higher-up staff.

While this type is rarely a public menace, they share some similarities with "alpha male" alphas in the sense that they may harass omegas in public, though they'll often be a bit less trashy than your standard "alpha male guy"- these karens/kevins aren't too likely to catcall or yell obscenities at omegas who refuse to pay attention. Rather, these Karens/Kevins might interpret a customer service smile from an omega barista at the coffee shop as an invitation to keep coming back and being uncomfortably flirty with that specific barista even after they have expressed that they're simply doing their job. They may also be the type to stand uncomfortably close to omega coworkers and make belittling comments, for example questioning an omega's ability to perform a task as well as a beta or alpha, or recommending only menial tasks far below their skill levels to omegas working with them.

This specific type is actually more often a Kevin than a Karen, however both exist in fairly equal numbers.

Common Phrases of the "Superiority Complex" Karen/Kevin:

"You sure you can handle that, cutie? Isn't that something better suited for a Beta or an Alpha?"

"You're really smart/strong/etc for an Omega"

"I don't know if we can hire you, you're at that age where you'll probably start having pups soon and you'd have to miss work a lot because of them... maybe you can apply for something part-time instead? Or maybe your partner can just take care of you, you focus on delivering those healthy pups and being a good parent!"

"Well aren't you a cute omega, working in customer service like that! The regulars here must be coming back just to see you! I see why they hired you, must be great for the business to have a cute face like yours here!"

"Honestly, I don't really get why omegas wanna work so bad. They'll just end up having pups and being stay-at-home-parents eventually anyway?"

"Sorry, we don't hire omegas for positions like these, they're too demanding"

"You know, I could consider giving you a raise, in exchange for something you could do for me... of course, no pressure, but do consider it"

Note: these are just the more dynamic-specific ones I headcanon to exist- there are WAY more different kinds of Karens and Kevins than just these, I just wanted to come up with a few examples of my own of types that could be more prevalent in specific dynamics. You can see a lot of traditional/real-world sexism reflected in these specific tropes since it's something Omegaverse can often explore in different interesting ways, and I didn't go into a lot of detail since the post is already long. Feel free to add your own karen/kevin type headcanons, commentary, or observations in the reblogs/replies!!

#omegaverse #a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse headcanons #a/b/o verse #miscecanis #misceanimalis #gamie originals

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stardustedknuckles · 25 days

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I'm starting to think that if you're good at math and you like the way math makes sense and it doesn't crush your soul to learn it, you might should maybe probably see how far you can get learning math and see if you can do a career with it.

If you'd told me ten years ago as senior in college (hey what the fuck) that one day I would be sitting at my desk at home furiously scribbling equations and getting dopamine from correctly solving them - and not only that, but not being frustrated by the little mistakes but just learning to watch out for them...

I feel like the standard finish there is "I would've laughed at you." but like. I had such a good college algebra teacher that I was in fact briefly a math major. I was inspired. It all made sense. But I was at college on a full ride scholarship and if I made below a B in any class, I would be put on probation and if it happened again I would lose that scholarship.

Is it any fucking wonder that I hedged my bets and stuck with English? It's the same reason I stopped learning German even though I didn't mind the idea of retaking a class to be sure I understood it. I was somewhat trapped and afraid to use my one single second chance. And now I'm freshly 31 looking back and going... Okay but I CAN do this. I've always been able to do this. I just have lived my life for so long by the belief that I am not allowed to fail, ever, and that doing so will be catastrophic - something that has in fact been reinforced through things like conditional scholarships and lifelong anxiety that if I am not the best and if I am not intelligent then I am nothing, because it's the only thing people praised me for (til I left school and found out that among people in the real world, outside of academia, just being a decent human is pretty great actually).

So I'm on Khan academy and I walked it all the way back to college algebra so I can refresh what I remember, and I want to see how far I can go on my own time and how confident I am that I could in fact go into a science (I'm thinking meteorology or geology) and handle the math that comes with that. It's all just formulas. If there is one thing I'm good at, it's memorization. And I did not fully appreciate in school how often math comes with its own proofing system. The Adhd tells me I don't need to check my work - it has always been an issue. But the fact that I can is huge, actually.

Formulas are actually how I look at the world. Essays were easy because each type followed a formula. All you had to do was plug in examples to prove your conclusions. Even fanfiction tropes are, almost by definition, formulaic. The problem is that this thinking won't get you very far interpersonally/outside of math. But like... If there's a way this thinking COULD get me far, then why not? Why not at least try?

I think senior me would be glad to hear we're giving it a go again in a world and a headspace where we get to set our own pace and learn for fun, with the prospect of going back to school and taking whatever time we need. Failure is okay, actually. Taking longer to achieve a degree, making school fit around your life instead of the other way around is just fine. The time will pass anyway.

#I fully expect to hit logarithms and go nevermind fuck this #But now that I've looked up what they're actually used for #They make a lot more sense #Yeah it is actually pretty cool to be able to plot WILDLY varying data points on the same graph #Mundane adventures

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ibtisttime · 1 year

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The pretty girl with the pretty handwriting.

I've always envied people with remarkable talents. yes I have no shame in saying it. I wasn't jealous, I did actually envy them. I believe we are allowed to feel however we want as long as we do not let it affect other people badly. I never did something to stop them from being so talented or to discourage them and I think that's what matters most.

I bet all of you remember that one kid in class who could either draw, play an instrument so well or even something so small like having a pretty handrwiting. How the teachers obviously liked them more. made sure we all knew how better they were from us for being so talented.

One memory I remember so vividly, is of french class in primary school. see, I've always been the top of that class back then with no close competitor. I was privileged I guess, I have to admit it, for having two very fluent parents and also multiple older siblings that could speak the language so well. Me being the top of the class however, was expected and not something to be celebrated at home. but at school, it was my moment to shine, because there has always been a kid that draws better, one that sang better, and one that could write better. It was the only class where I could feel how everyone admired me so much and wanted to learn from me. kids would line up at the door of my house to get some help with their homeworks or to have me accept being parts of their projects. French class was definitely my favourite class. That until the pretty girl showed up.

I don't remember how or when she exaclty joined our school. Maybe because all of those past memories are so blurred to me now (yes, one of the reasons I am writing is to try and collect all those pieces to help me find out who I was). I just remember it being 4th grade and her being my same height which makes her tower over all the girls in class with me. I remember her being so pretty, having a very pale skin, smooth dark long hair, beautiful dark eyes that barely showed with her bangs, a very slim figure and a very cute voice. Nothing like me, all quite the opposite actually. She was so charming from a very young age. and I believe she naturally knew how to use those charms from a very young age too.

I can't recall wether we were friends or not but I have memory of talking to her in the school's yard and her bringing up kids songs and shows that were so foreign to me. I remember there being a circle of pople around her when she told us about those songs and sang to us.

What I clearely remember about this girl, is french class. I remember to this day how her voice sounded like when she mispronounced basic words in french. or how she called the teacher in a strained cute tone. I mean, I remember her level being so poor.

But one day the french teacher was examining our writing and he noticed hers. he was so surprised, he lifted her copy book and showed all of us how well pretty her handwriting was. He from then on, made her his favourite, always called her to the board to write stuff and praised her every single day. And of course, made sure to remind us every time how better she was from everyone else. And everyone else (me) faded away.

I remeber hating it so much, ever since I was a kid. Why am I being compared to someone who was obviously blessed? why are they better than me if they didn't even try?? I was the one with the knowledge and the grades, why is he better? I was a child, and I was angry. And of course, as any child would do, I just prayed and prayed to magically wake up with some sort of talent, and that talent never came.

I think I realized at such an early age, how important pretty is. and how pretty with talent is so powerful and would always win over hard work. Maybe not always, but very often.

I also realized at such a young age, how I was lacking in both. I just decided at the age of 9 that I was not pretty. I did not have the looks and I did not have the manners and the attitude of a pretty girl, I just knew I didn't. I also had no significant talent that would make me shine more than others. I was very very mediocre. the only thing I had was grades.

So now I find it funny when people ask me why I do not think I'm pretty. Yes I might be pretty, gorgeous even to some. but in the society I grew up in, I am way less than normal, unpleasing to the eye I would say. I just came to know this through multiple experiences. so before anyone just tells me to be confident in my looks and feel pretty in my own skin. they better first undrstand that it is deeply rooted in me. I was conditioned to think like this.

I will for sure grow out of this, I already healed the biggest part I would say. But not feeling pretty is okay. sometimes it can't be helped and needs years and years of work and self acceptance. so people saying YOU ARE PRETTY YOU BETTER BELIEVE IT are just very fuuny and quite delusional even.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #talent #hardwork #pretty privilege

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coffeedrgn87 · 1 year

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On Rejection And Happiness

Note: In the below article I talk about coming out, rejection, Sex Ed, gender (euphoria, finding one’s gender, surgery), and living life. I also talk about acceptance, non-acceptance, but most of all, I talk about being hopeful and being kind to myself.

I recently found myself remembering a biology lesson from long, long ago. It was about the reproductive process in humans. It solely focused on a cishet man and a cishet woman conceiving a child through intercourse. At no point during this Sex Ed class (this was in the early 2000s in Germany) did my biology teacher talk about other ways to conceive a child (IVF, IUI, donor sperm/eggs to name but a few). There was no mention of surrogacy or adoption and there most definitely was no mention of other relationships between humans. Sexual intercourse between a cishet man and a cishet woman was all my Sex Ed curriculum covered.

Now, we can all agree that there is a lot wrong with that, but I’m not actually here to talk about that. I am here to talk about my mother; more specifically my mother insisting that I needed to prepare for an exam during which my knowledge of sexual intercourse between a cishet man and a cishet woman would be covered, where I’d be required to know certain formal vocabulary to describe genitalia, etc. You may be able to imagine that as a young teenager I found this whole study session incredibly embracing and the more my mother pushed to get me to recite the process based on imagery in my textbook, the more I shut down. I pushed her so far that she started yelling, which got my dad’s attention and he stepped in and sent me to my room to study by myself. I was eternally grateful for the respite. My mother, on the other hand, disagreed completely and I could hear her give out to my dad for always taking my side and going easy on me.

Not much to say about that. It was a common occurrence. My mother always pushed too hard and when—inevitably—my stubbornness kicked in, she got frustrated and lost it. My dad, however, having already raised two children (not perfectly what parents seldom are), realised that pushing wasn’t the way to handle me. During this particular incident he (and he was in his early seventies at that point) quickly realised that an adult woman trying to get a teenage child to teach her subpar early-2000s Sex Ed wasn’t ever going to be a fruitful endeavour. To this day, I am eternally grateful to my dad for all the times he stepped in. Having said that, I’m not here to shame my mother for wanting to help me study or for her desire to make sure I was prepared. However, I am going to call her out for her complete disregard of the queer community, for not mentioning that gay and/or lesbian couples could have children too. Sure, it wouldn’t have helped me prepare for the exam because it only tested what was in my textbook but the extra knowledge would have been much appreciated.

On that note, dad never explicitly mentioned anything, but he did often mention gay friends, lesbian clients, a queer someone he knew. He didn’t offer much detail, but he spoke about these couples and people as though their sexual orientation was perfectly normal, which it is. I never felt like he pointed out that someone he knew was gay or lesbian was him trying to make it about their sexual orientation but rather a way for me to learn that there were different types of people in the world. I do believe he mentioned trans people as well, though he may have used an outdated term back then. I won’t fault him for that either, at the time that was all the information he had and he tried, he really did.

This post isn’t about praising my dad for his unique way of putting diversity in humans onto my radar and it isn’t about shaming my mother. It also isn’t about the woefully inadequate Sex Ed I received. It is, however, about being queer, being non-binary and not being accepted for who I am and ignoring it, thinking I had a parent on my side.

Sadly my dad passed away before I could come out as non-binary to him and while I knew before he passed, he was too sick for me to have that conversation with him. However, I have no doubt that he would have accepted me. He never cared much about gender. His reason for putting me in a dress when I was a wild child was that all the trees and walls I insisted on climbing had easier access to my knees (they were forever scraped), but he had nothing to say once I started wearing trousers and feeling more comfortable in them. Growing up, I spent a lot of time hanging out at his workplace, asking millions of questions and just generally making a mess. He never brushed any of my questions off or used my gender as a reason not to explain how something worked. In fact, he always answered all of my questions. Sometimes with humour and sarcasm (knowing it would drive me absolutely mental) but always with patience.

Let me go back a little, though. Back to my high school days and a complete lack of diverse and inclusive Sex Ed. It was so utterly unuseful that I had a girlfriend and didn’t even realise we were more than friends until my group of ‘friends’ were fed up with me spending all my time with her and none with them. This inevitably led to me spending less time with her and us eventually breaking up. Us walking across campus holding hands (which we also did in class), kissing each other on the lips, and hugging for way longer than I hugged all my other friends didn’t feel weird or strange to me. It felt completely normal, it felt right.

These days, I affectionately refer to the girlfriend-I-didn’t-know-I-had-until-it-was-too-late as my ‘baby gay coming out’. Most of the time though, I use it to explain what a queer disaster I actually am.

I absolutely blame the complete lack of Sex Ed for my inability to realise that I was queer until I, aged 18, left Germany and moved to Ireland to start a life of my own. Being on my own was terrifying. Suddenly, everyone considered me an adult. Sure, I still ran to my dad with thousands of questions, but opening that bank account, drafting that first CV, going to job interviews, and signing the lease for my first flat, well, that was all my responsibility. With all that came freedom, the freedom to learn and observe and it didn’t take long before I proudly declared that I was gay, a full-on lesbian. I came out online first. It was easier to turn my Twitter profile into a colourful celebration of queer joy. Telling the few friends I had, and, of course, family, well, that took time. Looking back, I find it mildly horrifying that coming out to strangers on the internet seemed easier than being upfront about it with folx who’d known me all or most of my life. I can understand it, of course, but had there been more emphasis on diversity during those Sex Ed classes, I may not have found it next to impossible to sit down with the people in my life and come out to them.

I eventually did. Dad shrugged, lit another cigar and asked me whether I wanted coffee. He didn’t care either way. I was his child, his flesh and blood, and that was more important to him than who I wanted to be in a relationship with. I didn’t tell my mother until long after I had a sexual identity crisis due to falling in love with a man. I just about knew what being bisexual meant…didn’t learn the term ‘pansexual’ until 2018. So, when I did come out to my mother I had a steady girlfriend and thought it was pretty serious between us (it wasn’t, but that’s a different story). In hindsight, while I did use the term bisexual when coming out to my mother, the way I explained it aligns more with the definition of being pansexual. She didn’t say much, only that she didn’t see the point in limiting myself to only one gender, which I considered hilarious. For years, friends would chuckle when I told them the story and I’d smile because here was my mother, a forward-thinking, inclusive woman. I was so proud. Out of all the coming out memories that I have, it was my favourite. It said so much about her.

A few years ago, after many years or struggling with my gender identity but not having any words to describe myself (only that ‘woman’, ‘girl’ and ‘she/her’ felt beyond wrong) and crashing down the rabbit hole of gender confusion, I finally learnt the word ‘non-binary’ and it was like I’d finally found the light switch. The light came on and the world felt so right, so true. Coming out as non-binary wasn’t the easiest thing. It still isn’t. It requires a lot of energy, and the will to fight to be seen, to have my pronouns respected. But since finding a way to express my gender, something that didn’t feel icky and wrong, my happiness has increased drastically. I’ve found my name, I fought all the hard fights to have my gender recognised and my legal name changed. I even underwent gender-affirming surgery. The procedure, I first started to want it a decade ago, long before I knew why I wanted it. All I knew was that there was a part of me I desperately wanted gone, but because I didn’t have words to explain myself beyond ‘I want this, I need this’, medical professionals and friends continuously talked me out of pursuing what I wanted. I do not have enough fingers and toes to count how many times people have told me that I’ll want children one day. As it happens, I don’t. I love children, I taught children, but I don’t want them. I do not want to be a parent to a human. A cat, yes, absolutely.

A few days after my surgery, I finally realised just how detrimental the last decade has been, mostly for my mental health. Now, I can’t change the past and resenting it won’t do me any good either, but what I can do is be joyful about the present and enjoy the feeling of finally being whole. It’s an ecstatic feeling, a joy I’ll never let go.

Sadly, I’ve come to the realisation that my mother doesn’t appear to be as supportive as I thought she might be. Getting all my paperwork in order, having this surgery, it’s given me what I needed the most. Unfortunately, telling my mother about it all has resulted in her complete refusal to communicate with me. I can’t and won’t force her to be supportive of me and accept me for who I am, but her complete lack of understanding tainted that joyful coming out story and quite possibly ruined a rocky relationship beyond repair. Am I sad about it? Yes, absolutely. Do I regret ruthlessly pursuing my own happiness? No, most definitely not.

But I am struggling to understand how someone who once accepted me and indicated that gender was of no importance to her, all of a sudden decided to turn her back on me, her child. As her silence tells me that she’s no longer interested in a relationship, I won’t pursue it, but it stings. I’ve brought it up in therapy and I’m convinced that my therapist believes that I’m downplaying the situation, but give me one good reason to run after someone who has given me the silent treatment, who didn’t even ask about my recovery after the surgery, but was more interested in the information currently available on my passport, a question that completely knocked me off-kilter. Incidentally, it was also the last time I heard from her.

I could condemn her, paint my mother as the unaccepting demon, but I won’t. Instead, I’ve redirected my negative feelings and channelled them into my recovery, my writing, my scrapbooking adventure, and pursuing friendships with those who accept me as I am. I won’t deny that this silent rejection, the quiet disappearance act stings, but it leaves room for me to grow and accept someone new. Answers would be nice, but those can’t be forced. So, rather than overthinking the whole thing, it’s time to live my best life. I am queer. I am non-binary. I am demi. And I am a lesbian…mostly but not entirely. All these labels work for me. They don’t describe the whole me, but they say enough about me to give folx an idea of what they’re getting themselves into. Hopefully. If not, I have more words: troublemaker, butterfly, coffeedragon, quirky, honest, not always the most outgoing individual, human (in dragon form).

#rejection #happiness #queer joy #being non-binary #coming out #gender stuff #gender affirming surgery #lgbtqia #finding community #personal notes #about me #personal #i’m still standing #gender euphoria #a peek into the past

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dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram · 2 years

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Do you have any thoughts on how Harry engages with masculinity?

Thanks anon - that's a really interesting question that I'm really keen to explore. I've got a few anons saved that asked this question in terms of clothing - and I always felt hampered by my lack of understanding of menswear, but I think this way in might be more useful.

The first thing that I think of when I think of Harry and masculinity is actually how he's talked about masculinity (which is definitely key to understanding how someone engages with masculinity and should have been part of my schema when discussing Louis). While in 1D (perhaps more recently - I can't remember the exact timing), Harry would in different ways present himself as somewhat distanced from masculinity. Whether it was calling this picture, arguably the most masculine he's ever looked, or the way he talked about what it meant to be a man (and presented that as being something he wasn't) on the stage at OTRA Manchester. To me this suggests

What's really noticeable is that he was able (like so many people do) step into a slightly different culture of masculinity. While I suspect masculinity cultures of Manchester and Holmes Chapel have shaped how he sees masculinity - what we see of Harry interacting with masculinity is very much about an English-speaking, trans-Atlantic middle and upper-class masculinity. (And I think it's worth noting that he felt at home there to step into this space - and that's a really important piece of information about Harry and class).

To turn to how Harry engages with cultural markers of gender. And one feature has been how exploratory his engagement with fashion and gender presentation has been. This is obviously not the space to recap everything that has happened, so I'm going to focus on his solo career, but I think the fact that what he did in his solo career is based on a much longer trajectory is worth mentioning.

Until recently, I would say that the dominant theme of Harry's solo career performance was flamboyant menswear. He has been very clearly in conversation with earlier generations of male musicians who also explored this territory. I feel like we haven't got enough context with his move to kindergarten teacher chic to comment on it - but it is an interesting development.

But it seems really clear that that's about Harry's as a performer - we have much less sense of how he engages with gender presentation outside performing. Most of the time we see him when he's not performing he's wearing generic work-out gear. And that's obviously a very legitimate decision, but it means that large parts of how he ends up engaging with masculinity are not available to us - or we only get glimpses of.

Alongside the flamboyant peformer version of masculinity - as I said before Harry has also fitted into an English speaking, trans-Atlantic, middle and upper class version of masculinity. (I think Nick Soft Lad is a really interesting account of the process of going from where him and Harry came from to where they ended up - although there are lots of differences). The most important aspect of this is that, until you get to positions of power, superficially gender segregation and demarcation lines are looser. (There are other points - such as the distancing way that he talks about talking about his emotions and going to therapy).

I actually see Harry's mode of operating - very happy to employ women and praise women and give women with less power than him a step up - and completely excluding women from positions of power, voice and good money - as very much reflecting the version of masculinity he has chosen to align himself with.

The other part of this is that Harry talks about women and femininity in his music in a way that fits into a long tradition of the way men talk about women in music. The right to depict and define women in art is pretty core to masculinity. Songs like Only Angel, Woman, Boyfriends, Falling, and Little Freak - are him engaging in a discourse of masculinity that is much larger than him.

The last thing I'd say is obviously I think the way Harry engages with masculinity and the lines he does and doesn't cross are about being closeted and remaining closeted. And so I think the way he engages with performing attraction to women is pretty crucial to all the lines he's navigating. Which is all to say that I don't think you can understand much about Harry's public engagement with masculinity without thinking about the video for Watermelon Sugar and Late Night Talking.

#Oh Harry #lot going on here #but I think the football is interesting #because we get so little of him as a person #as opposed to a performer #that really we can only understand the performer

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sleepymarmot · 1 year

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TÁR (2022)

[Watched on February 18th. Beware, this post is 4k words long.]

Glad I was watching this at home and alone. I don’t think I’ve ever done so much googling during a movie. The experience felt like reading a heavy novel that needed footnotes but lacked them. A note taken during the first half hour: “Was the script written by musicians? I feel like I’m watching a documentary”. Wikipedia says that the writer/director has a background in music, and a conductor served as a consultant; the work really shows — I don’t have the expertise to tell if it’s realistic or not, but at least the illusion of realism is strong.

The interview and the master class felt painfully immersive. I was genuinely intimidated by Lydia’s presence as the teacher from hell. That poor kid was just waiting for this to be over and then leave and never return… I was surprised to see him (them?) snap and actually walk out, good for them! Also was surprised that Lydia didn’t make the obvious comeback about the student’s antifeminist usage of the word “bitch”. And to address the actual content of the debate: I think Lydia’s argument about reducing people to their demographic was backwards. Marginalized people already get judged in this way; giving the straight white men who formed the canon the same treatment instead of accepting them as the default is an intentional reversal. Sure, the student fails to present their opinion in a rhetorically strong way, because they didn’t come here for a political dispute and because they’re currently being bullied by an extremely powerful person, but said powerful person then presents an even weaker point as a counterargument!

“Finally, a film with the appropriate amount of Discourse,” I thought during this scene! And it’s not the only one where Lydia’s opinions on these matters are contrasted with others’ — notably, with the younger and more progressive Francesca and Olga. Relatedly, the fact that Lydia doesn’t recognize the date of the International Women’s Day was hilarious to me both as a feminist and as a Russian (it’s a public holiday over here, even if completely depoliticized in quite a misogynistic way). Overall the film felt like a very honest and good-faith look at a person who rejects solidarity/class consciousness (as opposed to a certain Best Picture winner, I have to add). I wonder, to what extent did Lydia think she was behaving in a normal and okay way, until the consequences caught up with her? The film maintains a balance between artful ambiguity of the protagonist’s intentions and commitment to following her around and showing her subjective world. I thought it was even more successful in creating another balance: neither whitewashing Lydia’s behavior nor making her overly hate-inducing in a satirical way, but letting the viewers see her up close, in different contexts, both as how she chooses to present herself for the public and how she acts in private, and leaving the viewer the space to empathize with her or judge her as they see fit.

Even if the pacing was noticeably slow for my awful attention span, and the combination of that pacing with the difficult content led to many breaks in the viewing, in a lot of ways the film was more aligned with my taste than much of what I’ve seen recently. I mean, even the density of the script isn’t exactly a downside; I enjoy looking things up while reading, so doing the same while watching a movie isn’t inherently bad, just unusual. I liked the realistic, psychological style of writing, directing, and acting. Making almost all music diegetic worked well. The sets and costumes were beautiful and expressed the setting’s aesthetic and personality of the characters inhabiting them just as well as they should. I wasn’t as in love with the cinematography as some seem to be, but there’s a lot to praise there too.

I was slightly unprepared for the secondhand embarrassment. The Elgar concerto announcement was excruciating to watch, I had to take a break. Same with the big recording at the end, to a lesser extent. I’d seen a gif of Lydia attacking someone on stage and I was worried she’d have a breakdown while performing; thankfully, what actually happened was less embarrassing.

Somewhere near the middle of the movie I wrote down “So far this film’s only flaw is how much effort it takes to watch it”. Further into the second half, I did find something to be dissatisfied with. I was confused by the hauntings; at first I assumed Lydia was just hallucinating, but as they became more and more real I couldn’t understand whether Lydia was getting worse or the film genuinely took a supernatural turn. Krista’s ghost sitting in the background when Lydia wakes up at night was a “when you see it you’ll shit bricks” moment. I understand that making the viewer question reality is the intention of these scenes, but that didn’t seem to have a proper resolution. Same with Olga disappearing into the mysterious building; I almost wondered if she was a ghost too. Was she conspiring with Francesca the entire time in order to take Lydia down? Was that supposed to be ambiguous or am I just stupid?

Finally, the ending just lost me (with the exception of the “massage parlor” scene, which was great). Throughout the film I kept wanting for Lydia’s downfall to begin already, but when it did, it felt rushed. I didn’t like or understand the thinking behind the montage of Lydia in Asia. There’s some commentary to be made about how intensely European most of the film is, and the jarring orientalism of the final ten minutes. A film so meticulous about referencing various names and trivia of Western high culture doesn’t bother to even name the entire Asian country where its ending takes place, and I’ve seen viewers argue whether it’s Thailand or the Philippines because of contradictory evidence.

I can see many people praise the closing scene, but I don’t understand the intent behind it. Is Lydia miserable, confined by the material and setting that are unworthy of her talent, with the predetermined tempo dictated to her through the headphones, seething with resentment for the vulgar music as someone conservative and elitist enough to bash even Cage and Þorvaldsdóttir? Or is she relearning to enjoy the essence of her job without the trappings of wealth and high status — “good music (…) bare as a potting shed”, as she said at the beginning of the film — and treating a video game soundtrack and a kid orchestra as seriously as she did Mahler and the most prestigious orchestra in the world? Blanchett says “those readings coexist”, but in my opinion these meanings are mutually exclusive, and neither was communicated clearly.

More about the master class

There was something about the way camera moved and refocused in the master class scene that I took note of, but I didn’t realize that was all filmed in one shot until someone pointed it out. Rewatched, and was amazed. Very clever to present that as raw unedited material that will later be cut and edited in bad faith. (Not my observation, but I can’t remember where I saw it.)

Context for Max’s words, from the Bach page on Wikipedia: “Later the same year, their first child, Catharina Dorothea, was born, and Maria Barbara's elder, unmarried sister joined them. (…) Three sons were also born in Weimar (…). Johann Sebastian and Maria Barbara had three more children, who however did not live to their first birthday, including twins born in 1713. (…) On 7 July 1720, while Bach was away in Carlsbad with Prince Leopold, Bach's wife suddenly died. The following year, he met Anna Magdalena Wilcke, a young, highly gifted soprano 16 years his junior, who performed at the court in Köthen; they married on 3 December 1721. Together they had 13 children, six of whom survived into adulthood”.

A celebrated genius in a relationship with a much younger female musician — sounds familiar? Is it any surprise that Lydia is so determined to separate the art from the artist in this case? Max didn’t even say that they’d never played Bach (they’re a violinist…), that they refuse to study Bach or that Bach should not be admired, simply that they personally prefer to focus on other composers — but a rejection even on that small of a scale was enough to set Lydia off. See which of them is easily offended and insecure in this scene? Not the nervous Twitter generation kid! Whether she is aware of it or not, what Lydia hears is “Lydia Tár’s misogynistic life makes it kind of impossible for me to take her music seriously,” and she wants to prevent this phrase from ever being heard outside of her repressed guilty conscience.

It’s also remarkable how much more personally Lydia takes an accusation of misogyny directed at Bach than a misogynistic slur directed at herself. She relates to a man who can be seen as exploitative towards women more than she identifies as a woman. Being accused of misogyny hits closer to home than being the target of it.

Also note how Max’s initial point was “I don’t like this composer because of what he did”, and Lydia’s Intellectual Comeback was “Aha! But you like another composer despite what he said! I am very smart”. Because making a single racist statement is toootally the same as having your wife give birth every year 13 times in a row…

By the way, the number of people online who are like “wait, what does fathering 20 children have to do with structural oppression of women?” is staggering. Hey, quick question, where do you think children come from??

Following up on the previous point: it’s interesting that the writer built the argument around Bach and a very specific feminist criticism against him that apparently sounds absurd to a significant portion of the audience, instead of picking a widely controversial composer like Wagner.

For context, I’m saying all this as someone who enjoyed playing Bach as a teen on an amateur level, enjoys listening to Bach occasionally now, and has not heard of this detail of his biography until today. As you might guess, I find Max’s position very relatable — because even though I’ve never had or encountered this conversation about Bach, I sure did about Tolstoy! Except this specific Bach debate manages to be more absurd than the usual squabbles on the topic of problematic classics. It’s like a literature professor saying “Why did you choose this contemporary female poet as the subject of your essay/thesis? I think her work sucks. Why didn’t you pick Tolstoy instead? Oh you think he was a huge misogynist, and prefer to focus on the work of many other writers who aren’t? Well you’re a woke SJW snowflake!!!”

I think what many people miss about this scene, and other scenes in fiction that portray verbalized ideological disagreements, is that in many cases, the arguments are not presented in pure platonic form, but are voiced by characters who have their own personal reasons to think and talk like they do. Max’s argument is reductive not because their position is inherently shallow, but because of the situation in which they are forced to make it. Lydia’s argument is not what the viewer is supposed to agree with, or what the writer thinks, or even what the character thinks; she is confident and eloquent not because she is right, but because of who she is and what the power dynamic in the room is.

So much of what Lydia says during the scene is deeply hypocritical. “They will also have been handled rating sheets, the purpose of which is to rate you. Now, what kind of criteria would you hope that they would use to do this?” — yeah, what kind of criteria do we see Lydia use to select her performers? “You gotta sublimate yourself, your ego and, yes, your identity” — we know the enormity of her ego, and how carefully constructed her identity is. The scene is brilliant, but it also loses most of its meaning without the context of the entire film. I’ve seen a few posts with isolated screenshots of Lydia’s punchy quotes from this scene, and it feels like witnessing the birth of a new cinephile red flag.

There’s also a very different, Doylist aspect to this debate. Lydia starts praising Bach as a positive example after bashing not a musical strawman, not a fragment written for this movie to represent “bad music” — but a real work of another real composer, Anna Þorvaldsdóttir, a 2013 piece that was presumably used with the composer’s blessing. The composer chosen for the film’s score, Hildur Guðnadóttir, is also a young woman from Iceland, and the styles of these two composers are closer to each other than to the classics Lydia promotes; this alone should be evidence enough that the director isn’t trying to disparage Þorvaldsdóttir’s work. An interview with Guðnadóttir provides a comfortingly decisive Word of God: “It has to be absolutely clear that none of us—myself, Todd, Cate—agree with Lydia’s opinion!” In her interpretation, the scene “represents Lydia trying to fight the side of her that she wants to be more connected to”.

Lydia’s own composition work is much more modern than her conservative rhetoric would make you expect. The same interview explains that the dissonance was intentional: “One of the main points that Todd and I discussed is that there’s a real disconnect between the music she is writing and what she conducts. We see in the beginning that she had previously explored music from other cultures. We felt [earlier in her life, before the film takes place] she was much more curious and adventurous than the roles she ends up taking, and then she starts manipulating and fooling herself, and other people. She creates this fake persona to become this magnificent conductor, and she’s very strong and powerful, but we felt like that was not who she really was, in her heart of hearts. One of the main problems for her is this disconnect, and that’s where she starts being more aggressive and disconnected from basic humanity.” The final line of the interview, where Guðnadóttir rejects the hierarchy of music that puts video game soundtracks on the bottom, is also relevant to the ending’s interpretation.

Short notes, mostly about specific scenes

The first time I heard of this movie’s existence, I saw a picture of Cate Blanchett and thought “women must go wild for her in this role”. It was only much later that I learned that the character actually was a lesbian. Is Blanchett starting to get typecast now? I’m all for it…

Took me like a week to find a moment when I had enough free hours in a row to dedicate to this and also felt relatively confident to bet on staying sharp and awake enough during them to appreciate it. (For context, after viewing I couldn’t stop thinking about the film for approximately 24 hours straight, not counting sleep.) I’m glad I did, watching this when sleepy and unable to fully pay attention would be a nightmare. It might have been an easier experience if it were split into multiple episodes, but the structure and everything else are entirely cinematic and not at all TV-like.

I’m glad other viewers are addressing the fan and her handbag, I thought I was missing something because this one night stand was never brought up again. Also relieved to see other people confirm that I understood Lydia’s line about Sebastian living on the same floor as another man correctly; that line also seemed to hang in the air.

Appreciate the ability to pause and read Lydia’s Wikipedia article. Nitpick: the film names are not italicized and none of the links have been visited :p

From the script: “Tár’s eyes, satisfied with her mimicry, suddenly fill with concern. She turns and looks back into the suite, as if sensing someone or something. But there’s nothing there.” I completely misunderstood this scene then, I thought it was about the bouquet having been quietly delivered (presumably from Krista) and Lydia being startled by its sudden appearance. But turns out it’s the first of the eerie unreality scenes.

Another confirmation from the script: “There is an underlying tension between [Lydia and Francesca]. The tension of people who have at times slept together, but no longer do.”

Having watched Phantom Thread only three weeks ago, I took note of the discourse about the famous artist and his wife Alma. Was Mahler the reference all along? I’d only seen Hitchcock mentioned…

I totally missed that Lydia stole Sharon’s medication. Took me a while to find the line that confirmed it.

“I’m Petra’s father”… How dare she be this hot while threatening a small child lmao

On a more serious note, as someone pointed out, “If you tell any grown-up what I just said, they won’t believe you” is likely something Lydia also said to Krista (and possibly others). Ouch.

At one point I realized that Blanchett was playing the piano by herself, and went to google if she learned it for the film. In the very next scene, I went to google the same thing about her the first violin’s actress, but for the opposite reason. I know little about the piano so Blanchett’s work seemed impressively natural to me, but wasn’t the violinist gripping the bow a bit too tensely for a pro?

I know they had to make the contrast between the two cellists during the audition obvious, but how does the first one even have a job at such a prestigious orchestra? That was terrible lmao

How ironic that after everything Lydia did to deserve and set up her own downfall, it happened in no small part due to a total fabrication that misrepresented her to the world.

Lydia’s intense expression and disheveled hair in the scene where he attacks the replacement conductor reminded me of Beethoven’s famous portrait. I wonder if that was the intent, especially considering her mention of “old Ludwig” in the master class scene.

How many mirror reflection shots are in this movie? Grateful for the opportunity to see Blanchett’s acting from two angles at once.

I’ve seen one or two people compare the film to Tell-Tale Heart. This film really does have gothic horror elements! The word “haunted” even appears on screen during the opening shot.

The neighbor subplot is such an artistic combination of everything Lydia fears and wants to avoid. She’s glamorous, she’s tidy, she’s germophobic, she’s hyper-intellectual, she’s afraid of being left behind, she’s afraid of death, she’s drawn to young and vibrant people. And the life that is the opposite of what she wants has been next door all along, becoming more and more visible to her, like an omen of the impending destruction of her lifestyle.

There’s a similar clash between Lydia’s intellectual, refined façade and the crude exploitation mirroring the side she refuses to acknowledge in herself in the “massage parlor” scene, and this one is not a continuous haunting but a singular shock strong enough to get through her wall of denial. I have to give credit to the discussion post on Reddit (there are several subthreads, this one is probably the cleanest) for breaking it down: there’s so much symbolism packed into a single shot there I didn’t pick up on all of it by myself from one viewing. To sum up: Lydia is shot with her back to the camera from the same angle as she was at work, standing with a hand raised like a conductor over a group of women seated like an orchestra, and the woman who looks up at Lydia is sitting in Olga’s place and bearing the same number as the symphony that Lydia was conducting throughout the film. It’s obvious in retrospect if you look at the shots side by side, but I found the scene striking even before noticing the woman’s position or number.

The list of music in the closing titles includes Partita for 8 Voices, one of the few pieces of contemporary music that I actually happen to have listened to, but I don’t remember it in the film. Seems like it was only used for promotion?

About backstory and identity

- Todd Field revealed in an interview that Lydia never even met Bernstein. That’s wild. How did she successfully fake being his student throughout her entire career?! It also changes her character in a huge way: either she is aware the entire time that her career is based on a lie, or she’s far more disconnected from reality than it seemed.

- In retrospect, it’s also strange that a celebrity accused of sexual misconduct would be invited to lead a youth orchestra. This characterizes her Asian employers as either ignorant or negligent — and I don’t know which option is worse, that it was one of the many ways in which the film decides to present the country as inferior, or that the writer wasn’t thinking about the motivations behind this plot point at all.

- There’s a blink-and-you-miss-it detail on the Wikipedia page we see on screen that is very relevant to the conception of Lydia’s stage name. We know she renamed herself from Linda Tarr to Lydia Tár; I’ve seen many people point out that the last name isn’t real and she added the accent mark to make herself seem fancier and European. But the Wikipedia page shows the name and background of her father: “Zoltán Tarr, an Hungarian immigrant to the US”. It’s a detail that the perfectionist Lydia leaves in on purpose. So it seems that the accent mark is a tribute to her late father and their family’s European roots. Lydia constructs a new European identity, just like she creates a new benchmark for what a person of her demographics can achieve. At the same time, that identity bears the mark of her European heritage, which she reclaims by basically re-immigrating into Europe; she claims it as her birthright, which seems relevant to her conservative, assimilationist worldview.

It also seems important that her original last name, Tarr, is on Wikipedia, but the original first name, Linda, isn’t. The inconsistency breaks immersion a bit, like the Bernstein lie, but also adds something to Lydia’s characterization. She doesn’t mind the name of her late Hungarian father being known to the public; in fact, it’s important to her image. Zoltán Tarr was European, presumably forced to flee his country — a dramatic, romantic backstory; Linda was an ordinary American girl, which is something she’d rather forget.

- Lydia is committed to proving that she belongs in the boys’ club and that being a woman shouldn’t stop one from becoming an abusive male genius. It’s easy to imagine a version of this story where young Linda has changed name not to Lydia but to Leo and rejected the identity of a woman altogether.

- I can see the criticism about the “predatory lesbian” stereotype. That could have been addressed on screen, actually, since the film already deals with identity politics. (Though that wouldn’t fix the issue of basing the biography of the main character on a real person and then making her an abuser — that seems irreparably insulting no matter what!)

- So thrilled to live in a time where the epic tales of a hubristic, charismatic genius’s downfall and mental unraveling can be about very well-dressed and attractive women. Have you ever wished for something like Lawrence of Arabia to be about a lesbian musician? I guess many actual lesbian musicians haven’t, considering the criticism that I feel no right to dismiss; but I have no personal stakes here, and I guess I solve this film’s dilemma in favor of the art — my own viewing pleasure over someone else’s representation.

Links

The script, via Variety

Hildur Guðnadóttir on Soundtracking Tàr and Sexism in Classical Music

How Composer Hildur Guðnadóttir’s TÁR Soundtrack Unlocks the Film’s Eerie Mysteries

That Last Scene in ‘Tár’ Doesn’t Mean What You Think It Means — an article by Somtow Sucharitkul, the conductor of the Thai youth orchestra seen in the film

The Lesbian Allure And Colonial Unconscious Of Todd Field’s Tár — an essay in a feminist journal

What “Tár” Knows About the Artist as Abuser — a “cultural comment” in The New Yorker

Un-Tár-nished — a review by conductor and composer Leonard Slatkin

How to Disappear Completely: A Lesbian Musician Watches Tár — a review

#tár #liveblogs and reviews #blah blah blah #pretty proud of this one #wrote most of it after the film then waited months for the inspiration for the finishing edits and additions

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lightasthesun · 2 years

Text

I'm very curious about this so pls let me know in the tags if you learned cooking as a child, were taught in school or if you taught yourself when you were an adult 👀 (or smth else entirely)

#Rb game #Rb bait #My mum tried to teach me the basics like pancakes or pasta with some kind of sauce early on but I wasn't really interested #I did it but I didn't love it #But over the years I picked it up due to my mum as well as my granddad being a good cook #By the time I was in high school and had classes I was quite good at it #And it was the only class where a teacher ever actually praised me so being good at smth fed my ambition and motivation #Now I love cooking #It's fun and creative and yes it's also easy for me because I just know how to fix smth and can cook without a recipe #Anyway #I am very interested to learn about anyone else's experiences #Did you have the option to learn cooking at school?#Did u want to learn?#Did you not?#Did your parents want to teach or couldn't they cook?#Cooking

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tothesolarium · 4 years

Text

My name is Aaaaah and I really don’t get along with college

#i dont want to i dont want to be the kid who cant fucking learn #i didnt finish a single book for any of my classes #i cant focus i just did enough that i got the gist and could bullshit it #i know im smart but it really only comes out when i talk with peoole #and even then i cant do it in person well because im so afraid of everyone #i barely ever voice what i actually believe #it only comes out in big moments never over the dinner table or just in conversation #and all my conversation skills come from fucking therapy #its awful and no one believes how hard it is because i shut down instead of showing my tears #they just dont gone out unless im alone #its 8:31 am and im crying!!#how am i supposed to survive? people say follow your heart till it goes on a path that isnt what they expected #all the qualities people praise me about come from just years of abuse #ary? the ine thing that kept ke sane #gentle? i dealt with emotionally reactive people i had to gentle or id get beat #snd then im supposed to be a teacher? where my whole day is built around service? which could be great! but right now #my boundaries arent string enough and inwould just flip into being a servant again #i need to learn how to be other things but no one actually wants that enough to teach me #no one really want me to be indeoedant #im way more funnwehn i do exactly what they like #instart to get comfortabke and people grt scared #i hate school so i went to the school that was supposed to be different #but it really wasnt? my highschool was better at which fucking sucks #now its 8:40 #ugh

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not-your-fucking-kacchan · 2 years

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Can we get some erasermic helping a student with sensory overload (and unhealthy stimming) xoxoxo

EEEEE PLS THIS REQUEST>>>😩

Masterlist<3

Warning: mentions of harmful and unhealthy stimming, hitting, pulling hair...

Erasermic x Student!Reader (Platonic) - Stimming

The silence of the classroom is cut through with the anxious whimpers of a lone student, sat in the furthest corner of the room with their head in their hands while they rock back and forth, finding some sort of comfort in the way that their eyes are pressed firmly to their kneecaps.

Lunch had only just started and you had started to get very irritable, rubbing your ear harshly at every loud noise and holding back an angry growl every time someone brushes against you. Eventually you're forced to flee the overbearingly crowded hall when the sound of people smacking their lips and chewing loudly grates at your nerves a little too deep.

Too much. It was all too much, and as you rush through the hallway with tears in your eyes, hands frantically pulling at your now tangled hair and smacking your skull. It was just so noisy and obnoxious and the lights were too bright and the smell was too overwhelming.

Images flash in your head of people's digusting, unwashed teeth chewing loudly with their mouths open, revealing mashed up food inside and you cringe, fighting the urge to throw up. You shake your head to clear your thoughts, smacking your head loudly as you grow more and more agitated, your knees shaking and knocking together.

You're so preoccupied with your sensory overload induced panic attack that you don't even notice when Aizawa sensei walks in, having suspected that something like this woould be happening.

He had noticed how restless and anxious you seemed during the lessons and was going to hold you back at the end of class to talk about it, but you were out of the room faster than anyone else was and he was busy dealing with verbally disciplining Mineta for being a creep. He tried to find you at lunch too, only to bump into a few stunned classmates just moments after you had suddenly barreled off.

It was then that he'd started to worry since, according to your classmates, you looked quite upset. So the only reasonable cause of action was to find you and figure out what the trigger was for your episode.

Queue your teacher coming into the room and letting out a soft sigh before sending a message to Present Mic. He had always been better in these situations, he could provide empathy and comfort where Aizawa was sure he could not, and he understood these things best. His attention is drawn back to you though, when he hears you smacking and scratching yourself and pulling at your hair.

His lips part in shock and surprise as he sees this display, though he quickly gets to work on intercepting your next hit with his hand while setting the other on your shoulder, giving you a look of concern.

"Come on now, stop that... You're stimming right? Sensory overload? Focus on me, now. Everything's fine. Rub your hands together, it'll help..."

He speaks quietly, knowing that being rough or deadpann won't help in this kind of situation. But as your eyes shift to glance up at his and then quickly avoid them, he knows he's succeeded in distracting you enough from whatever your trigger was. Your attention is pulled from your panic and you feel more disorientated now than ever, but at least you're not harming yourself anymore, soft palms slowly starting to rub together as you focus on the texture and the feeling of your veins bulging through the skin or the softness of the back of your hand compared to your palm.

Once Mic finally arrives, you've mostly calmed down, now just a little embarrassed to have been caught during one of your meltdowns. Neither Aizawa Sensei or Present Mic will hear it from you though, the blonde loudly fawning over you and giving you some words of praise as well as Aizawa for being "less emotionally constipated" and actually helping you.

From then on you get to talk to the both of them much more about your habits and what's troubling you. Mic teaches you all about stimming and how to do it safely, along with other healthy habits to pick up, and when you feel especially agitated or close to a sensory overload, you have special permission to stay in the classroom or even the break room with them when you're lucky, just to wind down and feel better.

Neither of them mind of course, and sometimes you're joined by an agitated Bakugou when he's feeling especially explosive that day, and if the two of you bond just a little while you're there, he's forbidden you from talking about it.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha fluff #mha #aizawa x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha #dadzawa #bakugou katsuki #aizawa headcanons #erasermic #eraserdad #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #bnha imagines #mha imagines

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writer-akihiko · 3 years

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Could I get the dorm leader’s reactions to a fem!S/O who punched a student because he was being creepy towards her?

Dorm Leaders + MC Punching Someone

Credits to my precious wife The Miss; I have never punched someone and my wife teaches and does self defense and martial arts, so she helped me out greatly. Work is cut for length purposes.

Warnings: creepy behaviour from NPC students, protective behaviour dorm leaders

Malleus Draconia

Malleus knew it was moments after your last class finished, so why were you late?

Sebek quickly noticed his master, and said that the teacher called for you

He wasted no time rushing to the teacher's room, only for it to be empty…

"I have nothing to do with you!"

He heard your voice, rushing to the source. You were in the gardens with another annoying student…

Unknowingly, he gathered his magic at his fingertips, ready to attack

CRACK!

Your lover witnessed you sucker punch that student right in the nose

What was this? That child of man was deadlier than he thought… and the thought thrilled him

The student scurried away, with a bleeding nose and that was when Malleus revealed himself

He watched as his YN shifted to her timid self once more. Maybe she was embarrassed?

"I witnessed all of it," He said. "My little treasure… you're quite the silent fierce type aren't you?"

You accepted Malleus taking you in his arms. You snuggled into his shoulders, knowing no one was there. "Only to people who annoy me. I'd never do that to you."

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, enjoying this moment with you. "As much as I witnessed how capable you were YN, if those punches ever graze your skin, I might not hesitate to skin them…"

You smacked Malleus playfully. "I swear, I can be safe."

Malleus overall was thrilled every time you showed any display of your strength, although you were quite docile with him so he'd have to sneak around to see you pummel some worthless students

Riddle Rosehearts

He was severely upset that your absence caused his unbirthday party to be delayed

He asked for Ace and Deuce to search for you, but he himself found you near the school labs

Oh, how his blood boiled seeing that it was a Heartsyabul student approaching you…

He was about to approach the student and call him off for his rude remarks, but he didn't expect what was coming next

You punched the much taller student in the stomach, and the student hurled over in pain

"You… You-!"

"I dare you to continue that sentence…" Riddle said, stepping out and standing next to you

He shamelessly brought your knuckles to his lips, "Did you bruise your knuckles my Queen?"

The student tried to run away, but Riddle was quicker to respond

"Off With Your Head."

He would certainly have fun punishing the ignorant student later, but for now he had to tend to you

"I never knew you could do that," He admitted, escorting you back to the location of the unbirthday party. "I'm quite surprised."

You shook your head, feeling a bit shy that Riddle of all people was praising you so. "It's self defense. I'm not one to go around punching people…"

Riddle after having knowledge of your skills wouldn't be afraid to leave you alone, and he'd have his little fantasy of you teaching him some physical defense… With you two being close… He can dream can't he?

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim had you seated next to him during one of Scarabia's parties, enjoying the festivities

Jamil had come over, asking you to excuse your boyfriend as other guests had arrived and were awaiting the host of the events

Kalim greeted the guests, although his voice was slightly strained since all he could think about was getting back to you

As he let the guests roam around, he took one glance at where you were supposed to be…

And saw the view of someone chatting you up…

Well, as the charismatic host he is, he has to put this student in his place-

CRASH!

The student fell onto a small table of snacks after you punched that student from getting too close

"I said," You poured the remaining of your drink on his head. "I don't want to be bothered."

Kalim's jaw dropped at the entire scene, and in his heart he might've been a little afraid of you

As he turned to Jamil, Jamil shook his head. "I didn't teach her that."

After the other servants cleaned the mess up, Kalim approach you cautiously. Giving you a hug from behind

He was relieved feeling your shoulders relax, but he had to make sure…

"YN… Would you punch me if I ever upset you?"

You quickly faced Kalim, holding his face in your hands, shaking your head. "No I won't. That guy was just being annoying…" You gave him a cheeky peck on his jaw. "And how could I ruin this adorable face?"

Kalim didn't mind you punching whoever annoyed you, but he was very impressed that it had gotten to the point where if someone bothered you, Kalim would be on the sidelines cheering at you

Azul Ashengrotto

As the dorm leader who runs the Mostro Lounge, Azul and the Leech twins would be typically busy with the constant rush of customers

In this instance he was grateful that you were willing to help out with the rush hours

He had you and the twins busy taking orders as he organised his contracts

There shouldn't be any troublesome patrons, or that's what he thought…

"Hey! Pretty waitress, why don't you sit with us? I'll buy you a drink!" Some sleazy customer hollered at you

You tried to ignore the students, continuing your duties. Floyd and Jade were too busy to kick them out, but you thought that they could be dealt with later…

From his view, Azul could only watch in disgust as the student dared to pull you to him

Before the student could put his hands on you, you swiped a clean punch across his face

The moment that happened, Azul couldn't help but laugh

The clique of the knocked out student scrambled out, intimidated by the creepy auras the twins emitted, and the way the Lounge owner's eyes pierced their core

You held your wrist in your hand, shaking off the slight pain. Jade and Floyd quickly escorted you to Azul's office area, and Jade even gave you a pat on the head for a job well done

Azul couldn't help himself from hugging you tight, showering you in praises and kissing your hand even though you insisted you weren't seriously injured

"My Angelfish… I should hire you for the Lounge's security instead," He joked, sitting next to you. "Actually… Do as you like! I get quite entertained with that fiery look in your eyes when you do get a hit or two!"

Long story short, you instead worked closely with Azul as a pseudo-bodyguard

Idia Shroud

Idia enjoyed his quiet time, especially quiet time with you, Ortho and video games

He didn't usually go outside, but he would always walk with you after class since you always calmed his nerves

Sometimes, if he was bold enough, he'd ask to walk hand in hand with you after a school day

At times, you could hear the gossip of some students, particularly about Idia…

On one day, Idia had to meet up with Azul due to club work. You decided to meet up with Ortho while waiting for Idia, since Idia wanted to continue his game's story mode with you

Idia quickly finished his business, but as he exited the room, he couldn't help but eavesdrop an interesting conversation…

"Why don't you hang out with us instead of that shut-in of a dorm leader?"

His attention was on the group of boys talking to you, closing in on you

He was caught off guard as you punched the leader square in the nose

"That's for insulting my boyfriend."

Idia had to admit that he got excited over you being so cool! It's like you're the protagonist that rescues the archmage-

Wait… That means that he's the archmage…

After scaring away the group away, Idia ran up to you, hugging you. His jacket covered you both, as you looked up at Idia…

"YN… Thank you…"

Leona Kingscholar

Leona always invites you to laze around, so when you were late, he got irritated

He was competent enough to memorise your schedule, so he knew where you would most likely be

He made his presence known, although he didn't care about the other students in his way

His ears perked up hearing your voice. Why were you in the labs?

He peaked inside to see some boys corner you. Ah… Some students that don't know their place…

"C'mon! Just one date and then you can go to that lion boy toy of yours!"

Oh… Now he was ticked off…

Before he could make a grand entrance, he heard a thud

The student hurled over in pain, clutching his lower half and gasping for air…

Oh… so the little herbivore punched him there…

He couldn't help but laugh, kicking the door open. You immediately went to his side, huffing away from those rude students

As Leona escorted you to his room, he mischievously called you out on it, "I didn't take you for one to go for the crown jewels… You gotta sanitise your hands before touching my sheets though."

You poked Leona's cheek, stopping him from teasing you, "And you, Leona, I might kick yours instead if you don't stop teasing me!"

You yelped, being carried by him. "No can do YN~"

Vil Schoenheit

Vil wondered why you didn't come find him after classes. You'd usually have some afternoon tea with him

He didn't think you'd skip out on purpose, so he commanded Rook to search for you

He also walked around, asking the students in your year whether they saw you or not

He grew anxious, quickening his pace until he heard your voice-

"I don't have anything to do with you, so stop it!"

He turned the corner, seeing you and your arms crossed and a group of students confronting you

One reached out their hand to you, which you retaliated by punching him square in the jaw

The student fell on his other friends, and Vil decided that this was enough

"Ah… I don't think it was wise to mess with my sweet potato…"

The remaining students scrambled to their feet, fearing the dorm leader's magic

"Scram, won't you?"

Vil didn't need to say it twice. The students disappeared, leaving you with Vil

Vil hugged you, patting your head. "My YN… I'm glad that you can defend yourself, but if you continue to do this, your knuckles will be bruised and I refuse to allow that."

You stood on your toes, pecking him on the cheek. "I appreciate the thought Vil."

#twisted wonderland #twst scenarios #malleus draconia #malleus x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul x reader #idia shroud #idia x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #twisted wonderland scenarios

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wakaoujisenhime · 3 years

Note

Hi Hi could I request Kuroko, Kagamai, Akashi, Midorima and Murasakibara reaction to their s/o who's into photography and loves to take photos of them because they think their the most beautiful muse. They say things like "the light is hitting you perfectly please don't move until I take this picture." something like that lol

A/N: anon…this, THIS is a masterpiece of an idea and I love you for it (๑♡⌓♡๑) please enjoy! ♥️

Tags: the boys [KKMMA] x reader ✅ SFW ✅ fluff ✅

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

Kuroko:

ok so the first time you took a picture of him was during lunch break

since he usually likes to spend his free time in the classroom while eating his homemade bento, the moment you became a couple you’d always join him

one day you were a bit late because one of the teachers had held you up, so you quickly texted him an apology for your delay and told him you’d be there soon so he can start eating without you

when you finally arrived, you immediately proceeded to apologize but promptly shut your mouth as you saw the scenery before you

Kuroko was reading one of his many novels, his elbows propped on the very edges of his desk, bento box and chopsticks untouched before him, blue eyes fixated on the text before him

everything about this was perfect as is, but what really gripped you and made you unconsciously reach for your camera, that you always had dangling from your neck, was the way the morning sun hit his face casting an ever so small shadow that only further accentuated his beautiful and calm facial features

as if in trance you gently push the small button on top of your camera and the shutter goes off

surprised by the sudden sound he turned his head in your direction and wanted to greet you but you cut him off even before he uttered a single syllable: “Tetsu, don’t move! The way the sun hits the back of your head right now is perfect…I just need to take a picture so bear with me for a moment.”

the way you had your left arm outstretched to stop any of his movements while your eyes were hidden behind the small rectangular object didn’t stop your boyfriend’s light blush to spread across his cheeks

he wasn’t used to being the only one in a photo so that alone made him a little nervous and embarrassed, but your silent comments and compliments on how his hair looked even more remarkable under the sunlight or how his facial features managed to perfectly cast shadows on his face that made him look more mature made his heart race faster than any game

luckily for your lover, this situation showed him another side of you that he rarely got to see, and who was he to interrupt your adorable mumbling just because of his embarrassment?

since then you used any and every opportunity to take his photo, whether it was in Maji Burger as he drank his usual smoothie or when he waited for you in front of a fountain in the park where you scheduled your date

when he finally asked you about it you proudly announced: “I’m sorry, but I can’t help the fact that my lover is such an amazing model for basically any type of photo! I always thought that you were hiding your beauty beneath those bangs and turns out I was absolutely right!”

you continued showering him with compliments until he couldn’t take it anymore and shut you up with a gentle kiss

“If it weren’t for your keen eye, I could’ve continued hiding myself and avoid the other’s gazes”

“Do you hate being the center of attention that much?” you whispered out, your eyes directly peering into his own big ones

with a smile he gently caresses your cheek and answers: “Your attention is all I need.”

Kagami:

Kagami was aware of your fascination for photography, I mean how could he not be when every time the two of you were out together for different reasons, you’d always take your camera with you and snap a photo or two

what he wasn’t aware of though, was what or better said who the subject of your images was

every time you reached for your camera the lens was always aimed in his direction and it never bothered him, because he figured that you were taking a photo of the scenery behind him so he never bothered to pose, smile, or anything of that sort

one day though it made him wonder whether his presence might disturb whatever images you’d taken so the next time you aimed your camera he turned his head, looking directly into the object’s circular lens, and just as he was about to say something the familiar sound of the shutter shut him up

“Perfect…that might be the best one yet” you silently praised and smiled to yourself

W-Wait a second…

“(Y/N)?”

“Hm?”

“What did you just photograph?”

you looked at him with slightly wide eyes, confusion spreading across your face as you answered: “Why of you of course”

and that’s when it clicked

all this time you’d taken pictures of what he thought to be the nature and scenery but in actuality, it was him you’d focused on

“W-Wait! You mean to t-tell me that I wasn’t in the way of your photos a-and that you actually photographed–“

before he could finish his sentence he realized something else that made him blush even harder

Perfect…Absolutely breathtaking…I’m so glad that I took my camera with me…The lighting and wind make you even prettier…What tranquility and gentleness, I’m in love…You’re so beautiful

all these comments that he’d brushed off, thinking that they were some kind of weird quirk of yours that resembled his captain’s whenever he talked about his samurai series, now made perfect sense

when the reality of the situation hit him he couldn’t help but bury his face in his hands and grunt at his stupidness, meanwhile, you tried to wrap your head around what Kagami had been believing up until today

looking at him being that frustrated with himself made you chuckle, but it also made you feel bad since you never directly told him so you decided that now might be the best time

with a gentle smile, you once again raised the camera to your face, waited until his figure became the focus and blurred the background, and gently pressed down the shutter

the sound made the young man beside you flinch and ever so hesitantly glance up to you with a dreading expression on his face

after pushing some of the buttons you cozy up to your boyfriend until your shoulders touched and showed him the image you had just taken with a proud smile

“I’m sorry for not telling you about it, but if I shared the fact that you’re my muse with you, you probably would’ve never allowed me to take any” you reasoned as you looked into his eyes and observed the way his cheeks reddened the moment you called him your muse

“I’m your muse…?”

you nodded and showed him a few other photos that all showed him do average everyday things such as eating something, chatting on his phone, warming up, etc. and even though they weren’t that special, the way you managed to capture him, his expression, and even some of the background made them all look professional

“Taiga, you’re such a nice guy that you would’ve probably offered to be my model if I had asked you to, but I wanted to capture that raw beauty of yours, the one that you display on every basketball match and that was the only way to do it…or at least that’s what I thought”

you paused before returning to the most recent image

“Having you being aware might be better after all…just look here at the way your eyes sparkle and your posture, both tense and relaxed at the same time gives off the impression of confidence and a tinge of uncertainty, both summing up your profound character that I love so much”

listening to your explanation made his heart beat harder against his chest and to stop you from fawning even more he covered your camera with his big hand and murmured: ”I-It’s fine already…I get it”

after seeing yet another unexpected expression on your boyfriend’s face you tried to get another shot of him, but this time he tried his best to avoid you and the two of you ended up chasing each other around the park, attracting the attention of many fellow visitors, but to you, it was as if only Kagami and you existed

Midorima:

one afternoon during the end of basketball practice, you had joined your green-haired boyfriend with his supplementary exercises, observing him and the perfect way he shoots one three-pointer after the other

you’d asked him long ago whether it was alright with him to take his photo and despite the many protests he’d agreed under the condition that it happened during basketball practice

unfortunately, the way he played didn’t manage to ignite the spark you needed to snap that one photo you’ve always been hoping for, neither his skills nor his playstyle were to blame for that, there was just something missing that you couldn’t name

the way you sighed caught Midorima’s attention and made him stop mid-throw so that he could take a glance in your direction and when he saw the disappointed face you made it made his heart ache

“Is something the matter (Y/N)?” he suddenly asked as he sat beside you, towel in one hand and his drinking bottle in the other

you shook your head and tried to play it off, blaming your bad mood on one of your earlier classes and the complaisant boyfriend he was he let it go (also partially because he was afraid that if he prodded further you’d get mad)

out of the corner of your eyes, you could see how he took off his glasses and started cleaning them

and that’s when your heart throbbed

the way his long fingers carefully handled the fragile black frames, the skillful and cautious way he removed any speck of dust from the glass, mixed with the way some of his green hair’s strands stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead, and lastly his beautiful long eyelashes were what won you over

before you knew it, you had grabbed your camera and had taken a photo of his profile, the shutter’s sound startling both him and you

“D-Did you just take a ph–”

“Shush! Stay just like that!” you blurted out, your hand on his chest to restrict his movements and keep him in that exact pose he was right now

with a reluctant expression on his face, he avoided looking in your direction, hoping that you wouldn’t notice the light blush spreading across his cheeks, meanwhile you smiled to yourself at his futile attempt and once again snapped another picture…

thanks to that one coincidental photo you managed to take back then, you finally knew what you have been missing all this time, namely your boyfriend being himself and not the Midorima Shintaro from Shuutoku who never missed a shot

in order to achieve that “normality” you had to take as many sneaky shots as possible, but they unfortunately never stayed as secretive as you would’ve wanted them to be because he either caught you mid-photo or your own comments betrayed you

Just like that Shin, look more to the side!

Leave your glasses be, you’re even more beautiful without them!

Don’t touch your hair! The way it is right now compliments your face perfectly!

Even if you scowl at me, you still look good!

he’d always run up to you afterward, blushing at the entire situation and no matter how much he ended up protesting, scolding you, or trying to take the camera from you to delete the photos, he never truly was upset about it

the reason Midorima let it all slide was because he enjoyed the way you smiled when you looked at the images you’d taken

the way your eyes practically sparkled mixed with the slight flush of your cheeks made his heart race every single time

“Is something wrong Shin? You’ve been staring at my face for quite a while.”

embarrassed of being caught by you, he squeezed your nose and stuttered: “I-It’s nothing, k-keep looking at y-your photos!”

Murasakibara:

taking Murasakibara’s pictures wasn’t an issue, you simply asked him and he agreed with no resistance whatsoever

you were over the moon at first and even made sure to have your camera with you at all times so that when an opportunity presented itself you’d be ready

from a pedestrian’s point of view, you looked like a cute touristic couple which consisted of the somewhat bored boyfriend, who agreed to have his photos taken for your happiness, and you, who couldn’t hold the excitement of being together with this young man back while happily snapping one pic after the other

their thoughts weren’t that off from the truth, you truly were delighted to be able to practice your hobby, and even having the tall young man as your model made it even better

thanks to the amount of muscles he’d gained from his daily basketball training, his height, his beautifully long and purple hair, his constantly relaxed expression, and his surprisingly gentle facial features, your boyfriend was already photogenic as is so any photo you took was downright breathtaking

and yet, those fulfilling feelings were rather short-lived

as time went by and you shot one photo after the other you came to realize that you hadn’t managed to take a single photo where he genuinely smiled or grinned

getting him to do either was nearly impossible, even for you

all you ever managed to summon was a very loving and gentle smile that resembled that of an angel; it was so pure that you could read all of his emotions from it, but that smile was reserved for your cuddle sessions that always ended up with him almost crushing you with his embrace and his low giggles as the result to your mixed reactions

“(Y/N)-chin, let’s go over there and sit down…I can’t walk anymore”

you giggled and took his hand that he’d extended to you, following him to a bench that was protected by a couple of trees, which cast down a perfect shadow on the wooden surface

the young man plopped down as if he’d ran for hours without a single break and wrapped his big arms around your waist, burying his face in your tummy

his childish behavior made you giggle and you softly caressed his head

“Didn’t you want to eat your snacks?” you asked after a short while, only to receive a silent growl as an answer

“Let me stay like this for a while…please”

his cute way of pleading with you only broadened your smile, which turned it into a grin as soon as an idea popped into your mind

with one hand still on his head, you used the other to aim the camera lens at the young man’s head as you asked your lover to look up at you

it took him a short while to comply because he kinda had the feeling that you wanted to ask for yet another photo, but he ultimately gave in and cast his purple eyes up to you

still smiling you glanced at the small screen on your camera in order to make sure that everything was perfect when you subconsciously blurted out: “Everything about you is charming Atsushi, the way the wind caresses your hair, perfectly accentuating your gentle face’s features…I’m so glad to have you as my muse”

…

your eyes went wide as you noticed the change in his expression

his cheeks had taken on an unexpected shade of deep red, one that you’ve never seen on him before; his eyes were a bit glassy and maybe equally as wide as yours, and his mouth was slightly agape

“Wha-! What are you saying (Y/N)-chin?!” he screamed out and once again hid his face before you could manage to snap a picture of this rare expression

“Atsushi, wait don’t hide! Let me take a photo!”

your protests fell on deaf ears and no matter how much you struggled or tried to loosen his grip around your waist, his strength made sure to make all of your attempts futile

“I-If I let you see me like that…I won’t be cool in your eyes anymore a-and I don’t want that” he finally admitted in a low voice

it took you a short while to comprehend what exactly he was trying to say; and when you did you couldn’t hold your laughter in any longer, ruffled his hair, and kissed the top of his head, waiting until he had regained his composure and returned your affectionate gestures

Akashi:

having the famous Emperor as your lover was like a dream, but when it came to keeping things a secret you were at a clear disadvantage because this man read you like an open book

no matter how hard you tried to act innocent or clueless, he’d always be able to add two and two together and expose whatever you were hiding within a matter of minutes

same goes for your fondness of photography and the fact that you had your eyes set on him as your muse

one day when you visited his home the two of you were in the living room and he was playing a round of shogi against himself while you sorted your camera’s gallery

when you took a glance at the young man your heart throbbed

the soft light of the sun that managed to come forth between the many clouds of that day shone right at him; in order to block the light from disturbing his vision, he’d leaned his chin on his hand and let his fingers extend to the corner of his mesmerizing eyes; a soft smile adorned his lips as his left hand stretched out to move one of the many wooden pieces before him

you couldn’t help it and immediately proceeded to take a picture, successfully catching him off guard

“Did you take a picture of me?” he asked without shifting his line of sight from the board, a hint of amusement in his voice

“Mhm, I did…sorry” you apologized before sighing to yourself, “it’s just that you looked really beautiful and I thought it’d be a shame if I didn’t use the opportunity.”

being called beautiful was something he wasn’t used to, so as he heard that word pass your lips, he froze up and finally tore his attention away from the game, and now gazed at you with a warm smile

“You can take more if you’d like.”

“R-Really?”

and with that, he became your conspirator in your mission to take as many photos of him as your camera’s storage could handle

“Just like that Sei…look more to the lef- yes, perfect!”

you spat one command after the other as the young man before you held onto the reins of his gorgeous white horse and let his hand gently run along the animal’s head

after snapping a few more photos you looked at them in silence, an unusual scene for your boyfriend

“Is something the matter (Y/N)? Aren’t you satisfied with these?”

your head shot up and you violently shook your head, explaining that it was nothing and you were just lost in thought; even though he quickly realized that you weren’t telling the truth, he chose to keep silent until you were ready to tell him what truly bothered you

unexpectedly, your silence lasted longer than he’d hoped for and no matter how unique he tried to organize these little photo sessions you did, your mood never seemed to improve which frustrated him

when he saw you sitting on the couch all sad and unmotivated while you scrolled through your camera roll, he immediately turned around and went back outside to his garden to mull over ways in which he could help you out

so to distract himself, he picked up his basketball, started dribbling, and began perfecting his shooting

the sound of the ball hitting the wall caught your attention, causing you to get up and search for its source

when you opened the front door you were greeted by a similar sight as the one back when you’d first taken Akashi’s photo which made you smile

“Sei-chan, that’s what I was looking for” you whispered as you subconsciously took a photo of the exact moment where the young man jumped and gently threw the ball against the wall, simulating a layup shot

still unaware of your presence the young man wiped his sweat with his shirt’s collar and the moment he felt your arms wrap around his body he jumped ever so slightly

before he could ask you anything, let alone say something, you kissed his cheek and whispered: “I knew it…you’re always beautiful, but the moment you shine the brightest is when you’re being yourself”

moved by your words he turned around, returning your embrace and kissing your lips as he then proceeded to hide his blushing face and glassy eyes from you by pressing you closer to himself

#knb headcanons #knb imagines #knb fluff #kuroko no basket x reader #knb x reader #kuroko x reader #kagami x reader #murasakibara x reader #akashi x reader #━𝙺𝙽𝙱 #━𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽'𝚂 𝙴𝙲𝙷𝙾

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bnha-dumpster · 3 years

Note

Hey! Would you be ok with you writing Aizawa x reader where Aizawa is training with a (third year, legal) student and the student ends up in a compromising position when caught up in the capture weapon? It doesn’t help that the reader always had a thing for his teacher and thought about this before. (Slight choking, suspension bondage, and a mix of praise and degradation?)

sure! binding cloth content is always good content. also i was thinking reader is in a position similar to this. and then eventually maneuvered into a position on his back so aizawa can do this (replace the collar with his hands).

pairing: aizawa x male reader content warnings: suspension bondage, mild choking, a mix of soft praise and degradation, pet names (kitten) word count: 1.7k

Having Aizawa as a training partner is more than you could’ve asked for. Training with a Pro Hero puts your skills and progress into perspective. It helps you understand how close you are to reaching your goals. Of course, that’s not the only reason.

Ever since you were put in his class, you’ve always had a bit of a crush on the hero. It was originally something small, manageable. With the years passing by though, that crush turned into something else. These days you imagine yourself in all sorts of scenarios with him. Some mundane, simple and some more risqué. You’ve gone through so many scenarios that they often repeat. Of course, you never thought any of them would actually happen. Perhaps you should’ve been more open minded.

“Um, Aizawa-sensei?”

You can’t really tell what position you’re in. The most you know is that it’s uncomfortable and probably not something a student would want their teacher to see- well, a normal student. You’ve had several daydreams of being tied up in Aizawa’s binding cloth. Like this, the only thing different from them is the uncomfortable position you’ve been caught in.

He’s not in your field of vision and he isn’t making any noise. It’s a safe assumption that he’s behind you, at least you’d like to think it’s safe.

Trying to turn your head to look around makes your neck ache. Staying still is all you can do, knowing that trying to struggle out of the cloth will only make you even more uncomfortable. Muscles are already beginning to ache from the unnatural position. You’d rather not make it worse.

“Sensei, could you get me down now?”

There’s no verbal response, but you do hear footsteps behind you this time. It’s a few seconds before the familiar form of your teacher comes into view. He stands in front of you, face neutral. The hero makes no effort to unbind you, only staring down at you. You feel embarrassed under his gaze and you can’t look at him in the eyes.

“You look good like this.” The lustful tone in Aizawa’s voice isn’t missed, nor is the way he adjusts his pants to make the bulge more obvious. Had he been wanting something like this too? “I wasn’t expecting you to look so cute when you’re vulnerable. Maybe I should’ve done this sooner.”

He grabs your chin. But he doesn’t make you look him in the eye, no, he forces you to look directly at the erection beginning to strain in his pants.

“Aizawa-sensei?”

From the confused tone in your voice, the hero stops. He crouches a bit your eye level so you don’t have to strain your neck to look up at you. There’s a bit of concern on his face.

“Do you want me to stop?” The genuine concern for your comfort and consent makes you happy. While you do want this, you’re grateful that he wants to check. “If you don’t want this, let me know and I’ll untie you-”

“No, keep going please, Aizawa-sensei...”

With those words, the concern melts away. Aizawa’s pupils dilate and he stands up, adjusting the capture weapon’s hold on you so you’re eye level with his crotch. He doesn’t hesitate to step close to you, his straining erection only a few centimeters from your face. Your eagerness to reach out and mouth at his clothed cock spurs him to bring himself so you can do just that. A hand wraps in your hair to pull you closer, almost shoving your face against him.

Even through the cloth of his pants, you can feel the heat coming off of each other. His cock gets harder as you try to suck it through the fabric, tongue lolling out and smearing your saliva everywhere. Your teacher stares down at you as he plays with your hair.

“You’re so needy, kitten. You must want my cock so much, huh kitten? How bad do you want it?”

“Sensei...” You whine against him. There’s a twitch from his cock when you call him sensei and you know that he loves it. “I want your cock so bad, Sensei...”

The groan he makes when you call him Sensei goes straight to your core. Your own cock twitches within your training clothes. From your position, he can’t see the growing tent in your pants. It’s an exciting thought, that he’s going to focus on his own pleasure and not yours.

“Oh, kitten... Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

He undoes his pants and lets his cock spring out, slapping against your face. It’s hot, heavy and better than you could’ve imagined. Aizawa’s cock is thicker than it is long, but still an impressive length. You move your head so you can trail your tongue up and down the shaft. His scent is strong because of your training just moments before and it’s intoxicating. As you lick his cock, you taste how salty it is and try to reach the head to taste the precum leaking from the tip.

A hand holds your head in place as he pulls his hips away for a moment. With your mouth already open, tongue lolling out, he can easy rest the tip of his dick on your tongue. Aizawa lets out another groan when you circle the head with your tongue, lapping away at the slit. He pulls away again despite your whining.

You’re not sure what he’s going to do until he grabs the ropes and flips you onto your back. Now the tent in your pants is visible and it twitches when you realize that Aizawa can see it.

“Kitten’s feeling good, hm?” A hand travels down your chest to rub your cock through the fabric. The hero’s movements are slow and rough, clearly teasing you instead of trying to ease your arousal. “Now open your mouth for me.”

Obediently, you open your mouth once again, tongue sticking out. He slides it along your tongue a few times to let you taste him before he begins to sheath himself inside your mouth. It stretches your jaw as he goes in slowly. Aizawa forces past your gag reflex, shuddering from the way your throat tenses around his cock. When he’s fully sheathed, your face flush against his balls, he runs his fingers over your throat. There’s a small bulge from where his cock is inside you and he traces it, pressing down on the spot.

What he does next surprises you. Calloused fingers trace the skin of your throat before his hand properly wrap around your throat. The grip is soft, barely there. The atmosphere shifts as he makes sure you’re comfortable.

“This okay?”

Once you hum in affirmation, he begins to squeeze. It’s not hard, but it’s enough to begin to make you feel lightheaded. He slowly fucks your mouth, cock sliding in and out at a steady pace. Each time your throat spasms around his cock, Aizawa grunts and presses a little harder on your throat for a second. The hero is doing his best to make sure you’re still coherent, able to feel everything.

“You’re just a slut for my cock. Aren’t you kitten?” He doesn’t actually expect an answer but you let out a moan to tell him yes. “Mm... Good kitten.”

Aizawa continues his steady pace. He lightly squeezes your throat for a few minutes before letting you go to regain oxygen flow before going back to it. Your cock strains against your pants, your precum has made a wet patch through the fabric of your boxers and the training outfit. Eventually the hands completely let go of your throat and once again travel down your torso. The hero has to lean forward to reach your erection, pushing his cock even deeper down your throat.

He pulls your cock out of your pants, watching as it twitches from his touch. One hand steadies the capturing cloth and the other wraps around the base of your cock. Aizawa begins to pump your cock with the same pace he uses to fuck your throat.

You moan and whine against his length, tongue doing its best to lap the precum leaking from his tip when he pulls back. He forces himself to maintain his pace.

“So tight, kitten. How much do you want my cum? How much does my slutty kitten want my cum?” He pulls his cock out of your mouth with a pop, letting it rest against your face. This time he wants an actual answer. He wants to hear you say it. “Kitten.”

“Please Sensei... I need it so bad.” Have you always sounded this pathetic, this needy? “Please give me your cum, Sensei!”

The second those words leave your lips, he slides his cock back in. His pace with your cock is more erratic, harder and forcing you to your limit faster than you though possible. When he sheathes himself down your throat fully and stills, ropes of cum shoot down your throat. You eagerly swallow it all. And when he pulls it out slowly, you lick it clean, lapping up what’s left.

“Kitten...” His hand’s pace slows and becomes more languid. “Does my kitten want to cum?”

He gives you a soft glare when you whine.

“Use your words, kitten. Or maybe I should leave you here like this?”

“I wanna cum, Sensei! Please!” The neediness in your voice is more than enough for Aizawa to continue. One hand pumps your cock and the other rubs against your sensitive head. The extra aggressive stimulation forces you over the edge and you tense in your bindings, cumming into the hero’s hand.

“What a good, slut of a kitten.” Aizawa pulls the hand covered in your cum up to your face and hums, “Clean it.”

You eagerly clean his hand, wanting to please him. And when you’ve licked it clean, he undoes your bindings. He gently sets you on the ground and crouches in front of you.

“You good? That wasn’t too much, was it?” There’s the stoic yet kind teacher you know. “Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I can.” You’re a little wobbly but you stand, tucking your limp cock into your pants. “Could we... Could we do this again sometime, Aizawa-sensei?”

“We can set up another training session. It’ll be good to get some more training in before you graduate.” A small smile tugs at his lips. Ah, this is great.

#aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x male reader #aizawa shouta x reader smut #bnha x male reader #bnha x reader smut

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yanderenightmare · 4 years

Text

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle.

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them.

Or… begging him to take them out on a date.

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life.

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it?

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness.

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her.

She did everything he asked.

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much.

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt.

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night.

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter.

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever.

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him.

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand.

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful.

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that.

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex.

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly.

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices.

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit.

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking.

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul.

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial.

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive.

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface.

But there was still hope.

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him.

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious.

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk.

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso.

“But, you know what I find even funnier?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning.

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!”

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed.

“Is how much of an idiot I am.”

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt.

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.”

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him.

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths.

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk.

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.”

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties.

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.”

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her.

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs.

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin.

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this.

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did.

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…”

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out.

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way.

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned.

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling.

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead.

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it.

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath.

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat.

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal.

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth.

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.”

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips.

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was.

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change.

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met.

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips.

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…”

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him.

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…”

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo.

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo.

It was Bakugo.

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship.

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden.

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips.

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~”

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.”

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands.

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind.

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace.

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…”

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face.

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes.

“You’re so fucking adorable…”

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear.

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth.

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform.

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.”

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands.

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie.

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together.

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of.

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones.

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily.

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders.

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close.

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.”

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal.

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure.

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside.

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton.

He needed to change that.

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth.

“Don’t move.”

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat.

“Just… trust me.”

She didn’t.

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal.

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth.

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky.

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?”

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft.

“I’m joking…”

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his.

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.”

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body.

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

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